vi

“s’okay, love,” he murmurs back, eyes like molten chocolate as he looks up at you, sitting patiently while you tend to his wounds. busted up as his mouth is, the corners of his lips still turn up in a smile as he watches your face pinch up with worry. 

“what are you smiling at?”

his bruised knuckles find your waist, pulling you closer where you stand between his legs. “you’re pretty when you fuss over me, y’know.”

you click your tongue, brows furrowing as you brush the compliment off, more worried about the small cut going through his eyebrow. he doesn’t flinch this time, just basks in the gentleness of your touch as you brush his hair back and dab at the scratch. “you need to be more careful, jay.”

he tugs you closer still until you’re flush against him, no room for anything between you, until you’re close enough for him to bury his bruised-up face in your waist. “you should see the other guy.”

you resist the urge to laugh, not wanting to let him get away with this blasé attitude. “i’m serious.”

you can feel his smile on your skin where your (his) shirt is riding up to expose your waist. “so am i. i didn’t do too bad, y’know. wish you could’ve seen it, but i get too cocky when i know you’re watching.” 

it’s true. it’s part of the reason he stopped letting you come to his matches. (the other was just that it tended to get too rowdy and he was worried for your safety. his protective streak was cute). you remember how he’d drag himself home, proud and bleeding. you hadn’t fought him on it. 

“as much as i love you, i have no desire to watch you get beat to a pulp,” you reply, gentle fingers applying antiseptic and healing cream to the blemishes on his face. he’s pliant under your touch, letting you turn this way and that as he stares at your face with all the love in the world. 

“give me some credit,” he smirks as you tilt his head, eyes never leaving you. 

“how about i give you something else?” you murmur, the devious lilt to your voice prompting jay to ask what you mean. he doesn’t quite get the chance to before you lean down to kiss him — just the corner of his mouth, careful to mind the split of his lip, soft and sweet and over way too quickly for his liking. he doesn’t even feel the ache in his jaw anymore, not when you’re kissing him so sweetly. 

he almost whines when you pull away, half a mind to pull you back in, but the heaviness of his limbs is beginning to settle in. 

your eyes crinkle when you smile fondly down at him, catching the way his shoulders slump just the slightest. you squeeze his arms that are wrapped tightly around you as an indication to stand. “come on, superman, let’s get you to bed.”

he doesn’t protest as you help him to his feet and guide him to the bedroom. his lips are still tingling from the kiss when you climb into bed beside him, and it warms him as much as your body beside his. 

jay always sleeps deep, heavy after a match — but it’s not because he’s tired (even though he is). it’s because he always rests easier with you in his arms. 

The impact came fast and hard, sending a sharp sting across your cheek. Your eyes watered instantly as the ball bounced away somewhere across the field, but you barely noticed. For a second, all you could do was stand there, blinking in disbelief.

Seriously? Out of everyone on the field, it had to hit you?

A mixture of gasps and laughter erupted around you. Heat rushed to your face immediately, not from the pain, but from the sudden realization that half the football field was staring at you. Great.

Nothing was more humiliating than becoming the center of attention because a football had smacked you directly in the face. You pressed a hand against your cheek, hoping the ground would open up and swallow you whole.

A pair of hurried footsteps pounded across the grass, growing louder by the second. Before you could even recover, someone came to a stop right in front of you. “Oh my god.”

You looked up, it was Seonghyeon.His eyes were wide, his face pale, and judging by the expression on it, you’d think he’d just witnessed a murder.

“Are you okay?” he asked immediately. You opened your mouth to answer.

“I am so sorry.” Then closed it again.

“I wasn’t aiming anywhere near you, I swear. I don’t even know how that happened. Are you hurt? Does your head hurt? Can you see properly?”

The questions came so quickly that you barely had time to process them. For a moment, you just stared at him. It wasn’t really because your head hurt, more so because Eom Seonghyeon, the same Seonghyeon who usually looked far too cool and confident for his own good, looked like he was seconds away from having a complete breakdown. Finally, you sighed.

“I got hit by a football, not hit by a truck’’

‘’Some would argue that that’s worse.’’

Despite yourself, a faint laugh escaped you. The tension in Seonghyeon’s shoulders eased immediately at the sound of your laugh. For some reason, that made your stomach do something strange.

“You laughed,” he said, narrowing his eyes slightly.

‘’Hm?’’

“It means you’re okay.”

You blinked at him. Then, before you could stop yourself, you let out a quiet groan and pressed a hand to your forehead. Immediately, panic returned to his face. “Wait. What happened? Are you dizzy?”

“…Very.”

The reaction was instant.

“Oh god.”

You had to bite the inside of your cheek to keep from smiling. “Very” was apparently the wrong thing to say. Seonghyeon looked seconds away from calling an ambulance.

“I might die, it could be because of you.” you said dramatically.

“It’s that bad?!”

Then he sighed and ran a hand through his hair.

“Come on.”

“What?”

“I’m taking you to the nurse.”

You opened your mouth to protest, then closed it again. Actually…that didn’t sound so bad.

A few minutes later, you found yourself sitting on a chair in the nurse’s office while Seonghyeon hovered nearby like an anxious parent. The nurse had spent less than thirty seconds checking you over before declaring you completely fine. Unfortunately for Seonghyeon, he didn’t seem convinced.

“Are you sure?” he asked. The nurse looked mildly offended.

“Yes.”

“But the ball hit her pretty hard.”

“She’s fine.”

“How do you know?”

You looked away before either of them could see your smile. This was getting ridiculous. Yet you couldn’t remember the last time someone had worried about you this much. When the nurse finally sent you back out, Seonghyeon stayed beside you the entire walk down the hallway.

“You sure you’re okay? Do you want me to get you something? You’re not bruised, are you? Wait, let me check-” Before you could respond, Seonghyeon was already leaning closer, his eyes narrowing slightly as he examined your cheek. You froze for a second, suddenly very aware of how close he was. After a moment, he leaned back with a small frown.

“I think it’s going to bruise.”

A few days have gone by, and Seonghyeon had somehow managed to become your personal caretaker. At first, it had been small things.

A bottle of water placed on your desk every morning with a bright smile that had you not doubt why everyone is charmed by him. When you carried many books, he’d take them out of your hands without hesitation. Everytime he would walk past you, he’d ask you this very question:

‘’How’s your head today?’’ as if you were recovering from a life threatening injury. You have never met someone so commited. At some point, you stopped correcting him because everytime he checked on you, his face softened in a way you’d never seen before.

Before what happened in the football field, Seonghyeon had been one of those people you only knew from a distance. The kind of person everyone seemed to recognize. He wasn’t loud or constantly trying to be noticed, he never really had to. People gravitated towards him naturally.

Teachers liked him. Students liked him. Heck, even the security guard near the front entrance seemed happy to see him every morning. You had always thought Seonghyeon was cold and intimidating, which is why you have never spoken to him before. You weren’t exactly the type to walk up to people.

While Seonghyeon seemed to move through school as if he belonged everywhere, you preferred blending into the background. You kept your circle small, avoided unecessary attention and spent most of your time in your own world. The idea of starting a conversation with someone like Seonghyeon had never even crossed your mind. You were pretty sure he didn’t know who you were, or at the very least never bothered to pay any attention to you. Then he kicked a football directly into your face, now he wouldn’t leave you alone.

You really should’ve kept your mouth shut. It had been a completely harmless comment, a passing observation. Something you’d mutter to your friend while packing up your things after class.

‘’I’m hungry’’

You hadn’t asked anyone to get you anything, and you certainly hadn’t been talking to Seonghyeon. Yet somehow a few minutes later, he came back with a recognizable sandwich from the school cafeteria. You looked up in confusion.

“So..”

Before you could finish your sentence, Seonghyeon handed you the sandwich.

“You said you were hungry”

You stared at him, then the sandwich, then back at him.

“..oh.”

Very articulate. His expression didn’t change.

“Eat.”

“I was going to buy one after class.”

“Now you don’t have to.”

You opened your mouth to argue, then closed it again. Because the problem wasn’t the sandwich. The problem was that half the classroom had suddenly become very interested in what was happening. You could practically feel the stares.

The girls sitting by the window had stopped talking. Someone behind you let out a suspiciously amused laugh. Your friend looked seconds away from exploding. She had many questions, the look upon her face says it all. Heat immediately rushed to your face.

‘’Tha..nks.’’ You mumbled, taking the sandwich quickly in your hand while lowering your head. Seonghyeon was completely unaware of the crisis unfolding internally.

‘’Your head okay?’’

‘’Yeah..’

‘’You sure?’’

‘’Yes.’’

‘’Good.’’

The conversation really should’ve ended there. Instead, Seonghyeon remained standing next to your desk. Your face grew warmer. Why is he still here? Finally, after a few seconds he spoke again.

‘’Let me know if it starts hurting.’’

Then, as casually as he’d arrived, turned and walked away. You turned to your friend, you already knew where this was going.

‘’Y/n-‘’

‘’No.’’

‘’There’s like-clearly something going on that you’re refusing to inform me about.’’

‘’Like what?’’

Her expression changed, as if it was obvious and self explanatory.

Choi Haejin was the complete opposite of you. You were reserved, she was sociable and open. You were in your own world and Haejin was in everybody else’s, gathering information to gossip about later. Somehow this dynamic worked extremely well. You needed a friend to do all the talking, and you really do enjoy it.

‘’Hello? Why is he practically working for you?’’

‘’There’s obviously something going on!’’

‘’WHAT IF HE POISONED THE SANDWICH?!’’

‘’It’s not reasonable for him to have any hatred towards you though..”

‘’How are you so calm?!’’

Yes, one of Choi Haejin’s many loveable qualities. Her overwhelmingly stacked questions.

Seonghyeon’s concern didn’t seem to fade with time. If anything, it had simply evolved. A week after the football incident, you found yourself stuck in a conversation you had absolutely no interest in being part of. You’d only been trying to get to class. That was it.

Somehow, somewhere between leaving the cafeteria and reaching the stairs, a girl from your year had stopped you. You knew who she was, but not well enough to have a ten minute conversation in the middle of the hallway. Yet here you were, smiling politely, nodding occasionally and secretly praying for an escape.

“-and then she literally posted about it!” the girl continued. “Really?” you replied.

You didn’t even know what you were saying “really” to anymore. The conversation had dragged on for so long that you’d completely lost the plot. You shifted your weight awkwardly, glancing toward the staircase. Your next class started in a few minutes, but cutting her off felt rude. Standing here forever also felt rude to yourself.

“So then I told her-‘’

“There you are.”

The familiar voice made you look up immediately. Seonghyeon. For a second, you just stared. He stopped beside you, one hand shoved casually into his pocket.

“Why are you still here?” he asked.

You blinked.

“What?”

“Class starts in like two minutes.”

Your eyes widened slightly.

It did?

Before you could check your phone, Seonghyeon looked over at the girl.

“Sorry,” he said easily. “I need her for something.”

Need you?

The girl glanced between the two of you.

“Oh.”

You felt your face heat up instantly.

“Oh.”

Seonghyeon, meanwhile, looked completely unaffected. The girl quickly stepped aside.

“Yeah, of course.”

And just like that, you were free. You followed Seonghyeon down the hallway, still trying to process what had happened. Neither of you spoke.

“You didn’t need me for anything.” You began.

“Nope.” You stared at him. He glanced over.

“You looked like you wanted to escape.” Your steps faltered slightly.

“Was it that obvious?”

“To me?” he shrugged. “A little.”

You looked away before he could see the smile threatening to appear. The strange thing was that you hadn’t even told him you were uncomfortable. You hadn’t said anything at all. And somehow, he’d noticed anyway.

The next day, by the time you reached your classroom, you were expecting everyone to already be inside. Instead, a small crowd had gathered outside the locked door.

A few students sat on the floor scrolling through their phones while others stood around complaining about the teacher being late. Relieved that you hadn’t actually missed anything, you slipped into an empty spot against the wall and pulled out your phone, hoping to blend into the background until the classroom opened. It was working for about thirty seconds, then a familiar voice spoke beside you.

“You’re late, It’s not because of your head is it?’’

You looked up to find Seonghyeon standing there. Before you could answer, someone walking down the hallway lifted a hand.

“Hey, Seonghyeon.”

“Hey.”

Another student nodded at him as they passed. A group farther down the hall called his name and he acknowledged them with a small wave. It was such a normal thing that he barely seemed to notice it. You did.

Before he acknowledged you, this was exactly how you’d always seen him, from a distance. Someone who seemed to know everyone and be known by everyone. Teachers greeted him. Students greeted him. Even people who weren’t in his friend group seemed comfortable walking up to him. Meanwhile, you were usually trying to avoid being perceived altogether.

“Well?” he asked.

You blinked.

“What?”

“Why are you late?” You immediately looked away because the answer was embarrassing.

“I couldn’t find a pen.” Seonghyeon stared at you.

“A pen.”

“Yes.”

“You were late because of a pen.”

“It was an important pen.”

The corner of his mouth twitched, you felt strangely defensive.

“It was.”

A laugh escaped him.

Not loud enough to draw attention, but enough that you looked up in surprise. You weren’t sure why the sound caught you off guard. Maybe because Seonghyeon always seemed so composed around everyone else. Maybe because you’d spent months assuming he was intimidating. Now he was laughing because you apparently make hilarious jokes.

The interaction hadn’t gone unnoticed, somehow you caught two girls nearby glancing over before quickly looking away. One of them whispered something to the other. Heat immediately crept up your neck.

For some reason, whenever Seonghyeon talked to you, it felt like everyone else suddenly became interested too. Seonghyeon either didn’t notice or didn’t care. A few minutes later, one of his friends appeared and nudged his shoulder.

“Come here for a sec.” You expected him to leave but instead he glanced over briefly. “I’ll be there in a minute, Keonho.’’ His friend looked between the two of you before smirking slightly. “Right.”

The second he walked away, you wanted to disappear. Seonghyeon meanwhile, looked completely oblivious. The conversation continued in small pieces after that. Nothing important. Complaints about homework. A teacher neither of you liked. The upcoming test everyone was stressing about. You still weren’t saying much but for the first time, the silences didn’t feel awkward.

That was what surprised you the most because before all of this, talking to Seonghyeon had never even seemed like a possibility. Now you found yourself hoping the teacher would stay late for a few more minutes.

If there was one thing you’d learned from being friends with Haejin, it was that she was incapable of making a quick decision. She was supposed to buy a game for her younger brother’s birthday.

You were only there because she’d insisted she needed a “second opinion”. According to Haejin, this was a very important responsibility. According to you, she just didn’t want to go alone. Twenty minutes later, your theory was proven to be correct.

“You’ve been staring at these three games for like ten minutes”

Haejin gasped dramatically. “This is a life changing decision.”

“…It’s a birthday gift?’’

‘’Exactly.’’

You sighed and glanced around the store.

The place was busier than you’d expected for a saturday afternoon. The game store was warm and slightly crowded, lined with shelves stacked with colorful game cases and collectibles. Bright lights reflected off display screens scattered throughout the store, while the faint sounds of racing games, button mashing, and excited conversations filled the air.

Groups of friends wandered between aisles, kids begged their parents to buy things and somewhere in the back of the store, a racing game played loudly through a set of speakers.

‘’Oh, what do i do? Haemin likes all of these.’’ At this point, you were mostly waiting for Haejin to decide which game she’d buy for her brother so you could both leave. Then a familiar voice drifted across the store.

‘’You can’t blame me for that.’’

For a second, you thought you’d imagined it but then another voice answered.

‘’Oh yes i can.’’

You turned your head slightly. Near the racing simulator setup stood two boys. One was sitting in the simulator, controller still in hand. The other stood beside him with his arms crossed. You recognized them immediately.

Seonghyeon and Keonho.

You simply stared. Not because seeing them was surprising, you’re sure many highschoolers come here.

Because seeing them like this was.

‘’You literally drove into me!’’ Keonho blamed.

‘’I didn’t-‘’

‘’You did.’’

‘’I barely touched you.’’

Keonho looked genuienly offended.

‘’You sent my car into a wall.’’

‘’Well you suck at this game anyway.’’

A laugh escaped Seonghyeon.

Even after becoming friends with him, most of your conversations had happened between classes, in hallways, or during lunch breaks.

School Seonghyeon was confident, calm, and seemingly unbothered by everything. This version felt more relaxed, warm. More real. Like the moment he stepped outside school, some invisible pressure disappeared.

Beside you, Haejin finally noticed where your attention had gone. She looked at the two boys.

“No way.”

You already knew that tone.

“Haejin.”

“No way.”

“Haejin.”

“That’s Seonghyeon- and Keonho.’’

“I can see that.”

She looked far too excited about this discovery. Fate apparently hated you because at that exact moment, Keonho looked up and spotted the two of you. His grin appeared instantly.

“Oh, this is interesting.”

Seonghyeon frowned.

“What?”

Keonho tilted his head toward the entrance. Slowly, Seonghyeon turned around. For a brief moment, surprise flashed across his face. His eyes met yours. The first thing he did was smile, a genuine smile. Suddenly, becoming very interested in the floor seemed like a fantastic idea. Haejin had other plans. Before you could stop her, she grabbed your wrist and started walking.

“Haejin.”

“Nope.”

“Haejin, come on-”

“We’re already committed.”

“We absolutely are not.”

Across the store, you could hear Keonho laughing which somehow made everything worse. By the time the two of you have reached them, your dignity had already left the building.

‘’Y/n,’’ Seonghyeon said.

The fact that he greeted you first did absolutely nothing to help.

‘’Hi.’’

Haejin meanwhile, had abandoned all subtlety.

‘’What happened to fourth place?’’

Keonho immediately pointed at her.

‘’THANK YOU.’’

Seonghyeon closed his eyes briefly. ‘’You are not helping.’’

‘’You came fourth?’’

You really couldn’t help asking. The look Seonghyeon gave you was almost enough to make you laugh, almost. Keonho looked delighted. Finally, someone was on his side. “You see?” he said, pointing at you. “Even y/n agrees.”

“I didn’t agree with anything,” you replied immediately.

“You asked the question.”

“That’s not the same thing.”

“It basically is.”

“It absolutely is not.”

Seonghyeon looked exhausted.

“You two are impossible.”

The comment earned matching offended expressions from both you and Keonho which, unfortunately, only made Haejin laugh.

“Wow,” she said. “I’ve never seen him lose an argument before.”

“I’m not losing.”

“You came fourth.”

“I came fourth because somebody doesn’t know how to drive.”

Keonho gasped.

The betrayal.

The audacity.

The complete disrespect.

For a second, the two of them resumed arguing while you stood there trying- and failing not to smile. It was strange. Before today, you’d never really seen Seonghyeon with his friends. Not properly.

At school, people always seemed drawn to him. There was always someone talking to him, waving at him, asking him something. But this felt different, like it was more real, less intimidating.

“You know,” Seonghyeon said, glancing toward Keonho and Haejin, “I don’t think they’re coming back.”

You followed his gaze. Haejin was holding up two game cases while Keonho looked like he was defending his thesis.

“Yeah.”

“They’ve been arguing about the same thing for like ten minutes.”

“You say that like you weren’t arguing over a racing game when I walked in.”

Seonghyeon looked over.

“That was different.”

“Was it?’’

A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.

Neither of you said anything for a moment. You found yourself looking around the store instead, eyes moving over shelves packed with games you knew nothing about. Then Seonghyeon pointed toward one.

“Have you played that before?”

You glanced at the cover.

“No.”

“What about that one?”

“No.”

He pointed at another.

“No.”

Another.

“No.”

Seonghyeon stared at you.

“Have you ever had fun before?”

You were slightly taken aback.

“Excuse me?”

“I’m trying to figure out why Haejin brought you to a game store.’’

“I’m here to supervise.”

To your surprise, he laughed.

Slowly, Your conversations started to flow naturally. It felt easier to talk to him. Maybe because it didn’t feel like talking to the cool guy everyone knew. Or the football player.

Just Seonghyeon.

Talking to him was becoming easier than talking to most people.

“You owe me.”

You looked up from your phone.

Across the lunch table, Haejin was staring at you expectantly.

“What?”

“You owe me.”

“..I don’t think I do.”

“You do.”

You narrowed your eyes, then Haejin leaned forward.

“Aren’t friends supposed to support each other’s interests?” She gave you a cheeky smile.

‘’Mm..that depends.’’

‘’On what?’’

“Whether those interests involve dragging me somewhere against my will.”

A look of betrayal crossed her face.

“Wow.”

“You still haven’t told me where we’re going.”

“Haejin.”

She grinned. “What?”

You gave her a knowing look before she finally decided to answer.

“There’s a football match after school.”

You stared at her.

“Seriously? No.”

The answer came so quickly that she looked offended.

“You didn’t even think about it.”

“I did.”

“You really didn’t.”

“I absolutely did.”

Haejin pointed at you.

“See? This is exactly why I didn’t tell you sooner.”

Unfortunately, that was how you found yourself sitting on the school bleachers three hours later, questioning every life decision that had led you to this moment. It seemed fun though.

The field was already crowded by the time you arrived.

Students filled up most of the seats, scattered in groups with friends, snacks and far more enthusiasm than you could ever relate to. The noise was conversations overlapping, people calling out to eachother, the occasional burst of laughter carrying across the field.

You adjusted your position on the bleachers and glanced around.

“This is way more people than I expected.”

“Obviously,” Haejin replied.

“Why obviously?”

She looked at you as if you’d asked something ridiculous.

“It’s the biggest match of the season.”

“Oh.”

“You didn’t know that either?”

“No.”

Haejin sighed. Sometimes you genuinely worried about her blood pressure whenever she talked to you. The teams began gathering on the field below. A few students immediately started cheering. Others waved at friends playing.

You found yourself mostly observing, until a familiar figure stepped onto the field. The annoying thing was that you recognized him immediately. Not because of the jersey, not because he was standing the closest, your eyes had simply found him automatically.

You hated that, a lot.

Before he hit you with the football, Seonghyeon would’ve blended into the crowd of players. Now he stood out immediately. The realization was embarrassing enough that you quickly had to look elsewhere.

When you looked back a few moments later, your eyes found him again. And again. And again. It was becoming a problem.

The whistle blew.

The game began.

At first, you paid attention out of politeness. Haejin had dragged you here, after all. The least you could do was pretend to care. A few minutes passed. Then ten. Then twenty. Somewhere along the way, you realized you were actually watching.

Not football.

Seonghyeon.

The thing was, you’d never seen him like this before. At school, Seonghyeon always seemed relaxed and comfortable. The type of person who could walk into any room and immediately belong there. On the field, however, there was something different about him. He moved with an ease that made everything look effortless. Even from a distance, you could tell people listened when he spoke.

Teammates glanced toward him constantly. A few times, he called something out and everyone immediately adjusted. It was strange. Not because you hadn’t known he played football. Because you’d never really thought about what that meant.

For the first time, you understood why so many people admired him. And for some reason, that realization made your stomach feel weird. Beside you, Haejin followed your gaze. Then smirked. You knew that smirk. It was never a good sign.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“Haejin.”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“You’re thinking something.”

“I am.”

You groaned.

“Please don’t.”

The smirk only grew.

Thankfully, before she could speak, the crowd suddenly erupted around you. Cheers echoed across the bleachers. Students jumped to their feet. You blinked.

Apparently something had happened. Unfortunately, you’d been too busy arguing with Haejin to notice.

“What happened?”

Haejin stared at you, then at the field, then back at you.

“You weren’t watching.”

“I was.”

“You literally weren’t.”

“What happened?”

She pointed toward the field and you followed her gaze. Seonghyeon was jogging back toward the center, teammates crowding around him.

“Oh.”

“Oh?” Haejin repeated.

“He scored.”

“He scored.”

You nodded.

For some reason, a smile pulled at your lips. A small one. One you didn’t even notice until Haejin did. Her eyes widened immediately.

“Wow.’’

Your smile disappeared.

“What?”

“You smiled.”

“So?”

“You smiled because he scored.”

Heat immediately rose to your face. You felt your ears swell.

“No i didn’t.”

“You did.”

“I did not.”

“You absolutely did.”

You looked away before she could continue. You weren’t entirely sure she was wrong. That realization lingered for the rest of the match. Long after the cheering died down. Long after the game resumed. Long after you’d convinced yourself you were imagining things.

Because every time something happened on the field, your attention drifted toward the same person. Everytime he did something impressive, you felt strangely proud. As if you’d somehow earned the right.

Which was absurd.

You were still trying to convince yourself of that when the final whistle blew. The crowd immediately came alive. Students began standing, gathering their things, and making their way toward the exits. Some headed toward the field. Others were already talking excitedly about the game.

You stayed seated. Mostly because moving required effort. Partly because Haejin had disappeared five minutes ago after spotting someone she knew. You’d just pulled out your phone when a shadow fell across you. You assumed it was Haejin. Then a familiar voice spoke.

“I need an unbiased opinion.”

You looked up.

And immediately wished you hadn’t. Seonghyeon was standing there. Still wearing his uniform. Still slightly out of breath. His hair was damp from the game, falling messily across his forehead. For some reason, that bothered you.

Not because it looked bad, quite the opposite actually. Judging by the expression on his face, something had clearly bothered him.

“Hello to you too.”

“That can wait-‘’

You blinked.

“That’s sort of concerning.”

“I was robbed.”

A pause.

‘’Didn’t you guys win?’’

‘’That’s not the point.’’

‘’Feels like a pretty important point.’’

Seonghyeon looked genuinely frustrated, his breathing was heavier since the game had ended.

‘’The referee was seriously against me.’’

You stared at him for several seconds before you shifted in your seat.

‘’You’re one of those people?’’

‘’What?’’

‘’The people who blame the referee everytime something doesn’t go their way.’’

‘’It didn’t go my way.’’

‘’Well, you won.’’

‘’Of course i did.’’

You laughed, the reaction was immediate.

‘’You didn’t even pay attention.’’

‘’I was.’’

‘’No you weren’t’’

‘’How would you know?’’

‘’Because if you did, you’d be angry too.’’

‘’I’m not emotionally invested enough to be angry.’’

The look he gave you suggested this was the wrong answer.

“Okay, imagine this’’

‘’Oh-‘’

‘’I score.’’

‘’You score.’’

‘’A beautiful score.’’

‘’According to whom exactly?’’

‘’Everybody.’’

‘’Mm.’’

‘’Then the referee- who’s job is to observe accurately, calls it offside.’’

You considered this, then shrugged.

‘’Well- maybe it was offside.’’

The betrayal on his face creeped up fast.

‘’I swear it wasn’t.’’

‘’Were you the referee?’’

‘’No.’’

‘’Then how do you know?’’

For a moment, Seonghyeon simply stared at you, then he pointed accusingly.

‘’You’re terrible at this.’’

‘’At what?’’

‘’At being supportive.’’

‘’You wanted an unbiased opinion.’’

‘’I wanted you to agree with me.’’

‘’That’s not quite what unbiased means.’’

The corner of his mouth twitched. You knew he was competitive, he shot a football straight at you a few weeks ago.

‘’You know what? Nevermind.’’

You laughed again.

This time, Seonghyeon shook his head dramatically and dropped down to the bleacher seat in front of you. The field behind him remained crowded with players and students slowly making their way home. Voices carried across the evening air while coaches gathered equipment near the sidelines.

“You stayed for the whole match.”

The comment caught you off guard.

“What?”

“The whole thing.”

He leaned back slightly.

“I thought you’d get bored and leave.”

You narrowed your eyes.

“You have a very low opinion of me.”

“I watched you spend twenty minutes in a game store staring at absolutely nothing.”

“I was being supportive.”

“You were wandering.”

“I was observing.”

“You were probably lost.”

“I knew exactly where I was.”

“Sure.”

You hated how satisfied he looked, with a smile to follow up on. His smile was genuine, like you could argue about anything- and it would still feel like you won, simply because he gave you that smile.

Then again, you hated how often he made you laugh. Before either of you could continue, a voice called from somewhere behind him.

“Seonghyeon!”

You looked up automatically.

A girl was jogging across the field toward the two of you, a bottle of water in one hand. She couldn’t have been much older than you. She looked pretty, and confident. The type of person who seemed completely comfortable talking to anyone. The type of person you immediately disliked for absolutely no reason.

She stopped beside him and held out the bottle. “You left this.”

“Oh.” Seonghyeon took it.

“Thanks.”

The interaction was completely normal.

The girl smiled. “No problem.”

Then she started talking, and Seonghyeon talked back. Which again, was normal. Because why wouldn’t he? But as you stood there listening to their conversation, a strange feeling settled in your chest. One you didn’t particularly like. The girl seemed familiar with him, she was comfortable like this wasn’t the first time they’d spoken. Obviously it wasn’t, Seonghyeon knew everyone. You already knew that.

Still, you found yourself looking away. Suddenly very interested in fixing the strap of your bag.

“You coming to practice on monday?” the girl asked.

“Yeah.”

“Good.” She grinned.

“Coach would’ve killed you if you missed it.”

Seonghyeon laughed. The same laugh you’d spent the last few weeks becoming far too fond of. Hearing it now felt different, a little less special.

You’d never thought it was special. Not really. Right? The realization hit, maybe that was the problem. You had.

At some point, without noticing, you’d started treating every conversation with Seonghyeon like it meant something. When in reality this was just who he was. He was friendly, easy to talk to. He was comfortable around everyone.

The girl finally glanced toward you.

“Oh.”

For a second, she looked between the two of you then smiled politely.

“Hi.”

“Hi.”

The conversation lasted another minute or two.

You weren’t really paying attention anymore because the stupid feeling in your chest had only gotten worse. Thankfully, someone else called Seonghyeon’s name from across the field. A teammate this time.

“Seonghyeon!”

He looked over, then back at you.

“I should probably go.”

The words were simple and harmless, but for some reason they felt disappointing.

“Yeah,” you said.

“See you monday?”

You smiled, disingeniously.

“See you.”

The second he stood up and walked away, you knew something was wrong. Not with him, but with you. You spent the entire walk home thinking about a conversation that hadn’t even involved you. You replayed everything, the exchanged conversation, his gaze, his laughter. You replayed him.

The realization irritated you more than anything else. It wasn’t as if Seonghyeon had done something particularly memorable. He’d talked to a teammate, that’s all. The interaction had been completely normal, yet somehow your brain insisted on revisiting it every few hours like there was some hidden meaning you’d failed to uncover the first time around.

By monday morning, you’d become so annoyed with yourself that you’d practically banned yourself from thinking about him altogether. Unfortunately, that lasted less than a day.

School carried on as usual. Teachers assigned work, students complained about it, and Haejin continued collecting gossip the way other people collected hobbies, which was admirable really. Everything felt normal. At least until the end of third period.

Your teacher had been gathering her things when she suddenly bent down and picked something up from beside one of the desks near the front of the classroom. It was a dark grey hoodie, slightly oversized and folded in on itself as if somebody had shoved it underneath a chair and forgotten about it.

“Did someone leave this behind?” she asked, holding it up.

A few students glanced over before immediately losing interest, you looked up too and knew exactly who it belonged to.

The answer came so quickly that you didn’t even question it at first. Seonghyeon. There wasn’t a moment of hesitation, you simply looked at the hoodie and knew.

Maybe it was because you’d seen him wearing it countless times over the past few weeks. Maybe it was because it had become one of those things your brain automatically associated with him. Whatever the reason, the certainty came naturally enough that you barely thought twice about it.

Then somebody behind you spoke.

“Oh, that’s Seonghyeon’s.”

Somehow, it felt odd. It wasn’t because they’d confirmed it, it was more so because they hadn’t told you anything you didn’t already know.

The rest of the class moved on immediately. The teacher placed the hoodie on her desk, someone made a joke and within seconds everyone was talking about something else. Everyone except you.

For some reason, that insignificant moment refused to leave your head. You spent the next hour trying to convince yourself it meant nothing. It was just a hoodie. People recognized each other’s belongings all the time. There was really nothing strange about it.

The argument would’ve been much more convincing if you hadn’t immediately noticed he wasn’t wearing it during lunch. The realization hit you before you even saw his face.

Your eyes found him automatically across the cafeteria surrounded by Keonho, Martin, James and Juhoon, the same group of friends he was always with. The first thing your brain registered wasn’t the conversation he was having or the fact that Keonho was laughing at something.

It was the absence of the hoodie. That’s why he looks different. You seriously didn’t like this, you in fact hated it. Seonghyeon, whom you hadn’t bat an eye on two months ago had occupied your mind the past four days. It was torture, simply because you refused to accept the thoughts. You denied everything, you brushed everything off and went about your day.

The following morning started with a problem. Not a particularly serious one, nor one that should have occupied more than a few seconds of your time, yet somehow you found yourself standing in front of your bedroom mirror far longer than necessary. You’d already finished getting ready.

Your makeup was done, your uniform was on, your bag was packed and waiting by the door. By all accounts, you should’ve been downstairs eating breakfast. Instead, you were still there staring at your reflection as if it had personally offended you. Something felt wrong.

The frustrating part was that you couldn’t figure out what. Your hair looked fine, more than fine actually. You had spent enough time on it to ensure that. Yet your hand still reached up to smooth down a strand near your cheek before stepping back again.

A few seconds later you found yourself leaning toward the mirror adjusting something else, then immediately questioning whether it had looked better before. The cycle repeated itself often enough that by the time you finally checked the clock, nearly fifteen minutes had disappeared. You frowned. That couldn’t be right.

Normally, getting ready in the morning wasn’t something you thought much about. You liked looking presentable and usually put effort into your appearance, but there was a difference between effort and whatever this was. This felt suspiciously close to perfectionism, except there was nothing to perfect.

Every time you fixed one thing, your eyes immediately found something else to focus on. A different hairstyle. A little more lip tint. Maybe a different pair of earrings. None of the changes were dramatic enough for anyone else to notice, but you noticed them, and apparently that was enough to keep you rooted in front of the mirror like an idiot.

Moments later, your phone buzzed. Haejin was texting you.

HAEJIN

Overslept.

Can’t make it to first period.

Meet you second period😴

Haejin was a bit careless when it came to school. You don’t think it’s on purpose, she just doesn’t see the need to wake up at 7:30 AM for merely first period. She makes it so justifiable, so you guess you could see it from her perspective, however not today. Today, was an important day.

By the time first period began, you were already feeling self aware. Now, instead of sitting beside your best friend, you found yourself alone at your desk while the teacher droned on at the front of the classroom. The seat beside you remained empty, which felt strangely noticeable. Haejin had a way of filling every space she occupied, and without her there the morning seemed significantly quieter.

When the bell finally rang, you gathered your things and stepped into the hallway with no particular destination in mind. Your next class was on the opposite side of the building, leaving you with more than enough time to get there. Normally, you would have spent the break with Haejin. Today however, you found yourself wandering alone through the crowded hallways.

“Y/n, hey.’’

The familiar voice made you turn immediately.

Seonghyeon stood a few feet away, one strap of his backpack slung over his shoulder. For a moment, your brain supplied an extremely unhelpful thought.

Did he notice?

You hated yourself instantly.

Notice what?

Your hair?

Your makeup?

The fact that you’d spent half your morning acting like a love island contestant? Thankfully, Seonghyeon seemed completely unaware of the spiraling thoughts currently unfolding.

“Haejin’s late,” you explained before he could ask. Before you could think of a more logical answer, like a simple hey.

Seriously?

What does Haejin have to do with this?

Why would he care?

Seonghyeon almost surpressed his reaction.

‘’Oh- right.’’

He was confused. Did you think he approached you to talk to Haejin? He didn’t read much into it though.

However, he did notice something was different about you today.

At first, he couldn’t figure out what it was.

Maybe your hair looked different. Maybe your makeup. Whatever it was, it gave you a slightly softer appearance than usual. Not dramatically different, just enough to make him pause for a second longer than normal.

“You look tired” he said instead.

You stared at him. Of all the things he could’ve said.

“Tired?”

“Yeah.”

A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.

“Didn’t sleep?”

The betrayal you felt was immediate. You had spent an embarrassing amount of time getting ready this morning. An embarrassing amount. And somehow the only conclusion he’d reached was that you looked tired. For a brief moment, you considered pushing him down the nearest staircase.

“That’s offensive.”

His eyebrows lifted slightly.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“No, tell me.”

“I’m choosing peace.”

Seonghyeon laughed.

Unfortunately, the sound did absolutely nothing to improve your mood. If anything, it made it worse. Because now all you could think about was the twenty minutes you’d wasted staring at yourself in the mirror. The universe clearly had a sense of humor.

“You look fine, by the way.”

The comment was casual. So casual that he probably didn’t think twice about saying it. You however, nearly forgot how to function. Before you could respond, Martin called Seonghyeon’s name from farther down the hallway. He looked over his shoulder, then back at you.

“I’ll see you later.” And just like that, he was gone.

Leaving you standing in the middle of the hallway wondering why two completely harmless words had managed to ruin the rest of your morning. The rest of the day passed surprisingly quickly after that.

Haejin eventually arrived halfway through second period carrying the same energy she always did, immediately filling the empty space beside you with stories, complaints and dramatic retellings of how she had supposedly fallen victim to circumstances completely beyond her control.

According to her, the blame rested entirely on a combination of faulty alarms, unfair school schedules and a universe that seemed personally determined to make her suffer.

“I woke up and it was 9:12.”

“You start at 8:30.”

“Exactly.”

“That’s doesn’t quite help.” Haejin pouted.

The rest of the day continued pretty much the same way. Haejin spent most of her time insisting she was being unfairly persecuted by the education system. By the final bell, you had almost forgotten about the awkward interaction from that morning. Almost. Unfortunately, while you were fully prepared to go home, Haejin apparently had other plans.

“I’ll be two minutes.”

“You said that fifteen minutes ago.”

“This time I mean it.”

“You also meant it last time.”

Ignoring you entirely, she disappeared back into the building after being stopped by a teacher regarding an assignment she had forgotten to submit. So you waited.

The afternoon air was cool, carrying the familiar sounds of students lingering around school grounds before heading home.

Groups gathered near the entrance, conversations overlapping as people delayed going home for as long as possible. You had been scrolling through your phone for several minutes when a football rolled across the pavement a few meters away. Your eyes followed it automatically.

Several members of the football team had gathered near the edge of the courtyard, passing time before practice. Some were kicking a ball around while others leaned against a nearby fence talking amongst themselves. The sight would’ve gone largely unnoticed if Haejin hadn’t finally emerged from the building at that exact moment.

“Oh.”

“What?”

Her eyes lit up. “Keonho’s here.”

Before you could stop her, she’d already started walking.

“Haejin.”

No response.

“Haejin.”

Still nothing.

Sometimes you genuinely believed she could hear only the things she wanted to hear. Unfortunately, Keonho seemed equally enthusiastic. A few minutes later, the two of them had somehow dragged everyone into the same conversation.

You weren’t entirely sure how it happened. One moment you were waiting for Haejin, the next you were standing in a loose circle listening to Keonho passionately argue that football players deserved special treatment during exam season.

“You kick a ball around.”

“That’s not all we do.”

“That’s literally what football is.” Seonghyeon let out a faint laugh. Keonho pointed at him immediately.

“See? He understands.”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“Your silence supports me.”

The conversation drifted from one topic to another after that. Homework became complaints about teachers, which somehow turned into stories from middle school and then an argument over who had the worst attendance record. At some point, Keonho glanced toward Seonghyeon.

“Actually, speaking of people abandoning their friends.” Seonghyeon already looked tired.

“You spend more time talking to y/n than you do with me nowadays.”

The comment earned a laugh from Haejin. You wished it hadn’t, because now everyone was looking at the two of you. Seonghyeon meanwhile, seemed completely unaffected.

“You’re being dramatic.”

“I’m serious.”

For a second, Keonho gestured vaguely between the two of you as though presenting evidence to a jury. The response came easily. Without hesitation. Without even a second of thought.

“She’s my friend.”

The following morning began with rain.

Not the kind that belonged in movies, where people stared moodily out of windows while life changing realizations unfolded in the background. This was ordinary rain. Annoying rain. The sort that turned sidewalks slippery and made umbrellas feel completely useless because somehow you still ended up getting wet anyway.

By the time you arrived at school, your shoes were damp, your patience was gone and Haejin was already waiting by the entrance looking personally offended by the weather. She immediately launched into a five minute rant about how rain should be illegal before eight in the morning, only pausing long enough to complain about an upcoming assignment and the fact that she had forgotten to study for a quiz she apparently hadn’t known existed until fifteen minutes ago.

The conversation continued all the way to class. Then through first period. Then through half of second period. That was one of the things you liked most about Haejin. Being around her left very little room for overthinking. Unfortunately not no room, just very little.

The thought arrived sometime during lunch. You were sitting across from Haejin while she attempted to convince three people that she deserved compensation for having to wake up before sunrise every day. Around you, the cafeteria buzzed with the usual noise of conversations, laughter and the occasional argument over stolen food. It was normal. Completely normal.

Yet for some reason, you found yourself looking up whenever the doors opened. The first time, you didn’t think much of it. The second time, you barely noticed. The third time however, you caught yourself doing it and immediately looked back down at your food. That was strange. You frowned slightly.

Because you knew exactly what you had been looking for. Or rather, who. The thought irritated you far more than it should have. The problem was that it happened automatically. You had not consciously wondered where Seonghyeon was. You hadn’t been sitting there waiting for him to appear. Your eyes had simply searched the room on their own before your brain had the chance to stop them. Annoying. Deeply annoying. Across from you, Haejin paused mid-sentence.

“…Why do you look angry?”

“I’m not angry.”

“You look like it.”

“I’m thinking.”

“That explains nothing.”

You stabbed a french fry with considerably more force than necessary. Haejin narrowed her eyes immediately. Never a good sign.

“What happened?”

“Nothing.”

“That’s a lie.”

“It isn’t.”

“It literally is.”

You sighed. The problem with having a best friend for years was that they became impossible to fool.

“You know,” Haejin continued, leaning back in her chair “most people don’t glare at potatoes unless something is bothering them.”

For a brief moment, you considered telling her. Not everything. Then immediately decided against it. Mostly because hearing your thoughts out loud would somehow make the situation significantly worse, and because deep down there was a part of you that already knew exactly what Haejin would say. The problem was that you weren’t entirely sure you wanted to hear it.

If someone had asked Seonghyeon whether anything had changed over the past couple of weeks, he probably would’ve said no.

Life looked exactly the same as it always had. Football practice continued to consume most of his afternoons and Keonho remained committed to making every situation at least twice as loud as necessary. The days blended together in the way school days often did. One class became another. One week became the next. Nothing particularly significant seemed to happen. At least, that was what he thought.

The realization didn’t arrive all at once. It wasn’t grand. It wasn’t even particularly noticeable at first. Instead, it appeared in small moments and then disappeared again before he could properly think about it. A hallway conversation that felt strangely short. An empty seat during lunch that shouldn’t have mattered. The first few times, he ignored it. By the tenth, it was becoming difficult to.

Thursday afternoon found him sitting through one of the most painfully boring lessons of the semester. Even the teacher seemed tired of listening to himself speak. Around the classroom, students had long since given up pretending to pay attention. Some were doodling in notebooks, others were staring blankly out windows, and James had somehow managed to fall asleep while sitting upright. Honestly, it was impressive.

Seonghyeon’s attention had drifted somewhere around twenty minutes earlier. His notebook remained open in front of him, untouched except for a few half finished notes written without much thought behind them. He wasn’t really looking at anything in particular when the teacher suddenly stopped speaking and sighed.

“Since nobody seems interested in participating today, let’s try something easier.”

Immediately, several students sat up. The word easier had that effect.

The teacher began asking questions instead, pointing at different students around the room whenever he needed an answer. Most people responded with varying levels of enthusiasm. Some answered correctly. Others guessed. One student somehow managed to produce an answer so incorrect that the entire class burst out laughing. Including Seonghyeon. For some reason, the moment reminded him of y/n. The thought appeared so unexpectedly that he almost frowned.

It wasn’t even a specific memory. Just a vague association. Something about the expression she would’ve made if she’d heard the answer. The way she tried not to laugh when she found something funny. The way she usually looked away immediately afterward as if being caught smiling was somehow embarrassing. For a second, he found himself glancing toward the row she usually sat in. Then paused, because that was strange. He hadn’t spoken to y/n properly in what felt like ages. It didn’t make sense.

A few weeks ago, running into her had somehow become normal. Conversations before class. Conversations after class. Random interactions in hallways that stretched far longer than either of them intended. Nothing major. Just enough that he’d stopped noticing when they happened.

Now he was noticing when they didn’t. The thought lingered for the rest of the lesson. Then followed him into the hallway. Then all the way to lunch. By the time football practice started, he still hadn’t managed to shake it. People got busy, that was all. School happened, life happened. There was no reason to think about it this much.

Unfortunately, that explanation became slightly harder to believe when he realized he couldn’t remember the last actual conversation they’ve had.

Instead, he found himself standing on the edge of the football field staring at absolutely nothing while the rest of the team warmed up around him.

“Earth to Seonghyeon.”

Martin’s voice snapped him out of it.

“What?”

“You’ve been staring at the same patch of grass for thirty seconds.”

Seonghyeon blinked.

Had he? Apparently. Keonho narrowed his eyes immediately.

“What are you thinking about?”

“Nothing.”

“Liar.”

Seonghyeon didn’t understand why he had thought about it this much. He wasn’t the type to. He’d logically examine situations, come up with a logical answer and move on with his day. Somehow this was different, yet he couldn’t pinpoint why.

Keonho had never been the type of person to let things go. In fact, if Seonghyeon had to describe him using a single phrase, it would probably be incapable of minding his own business. The moment practice ended, Keonho’s attention returned to the subject with the determination of somebody investigating a crime.

At first, Seonghyeon didn’t even realize it was happening. The team had just finished collecting equipment, everyone moving around the field in various states of exhaustion while the sun slowly disappeared behind the school buildings. Conversations overlapped from every direction.

Somebody was complaining about the coach, somebody else was arguing about where to eat afterward and a football rolled across the grass before being kicked back toward a storage cart. Everything felt normal. Until Keonho appeared beside him. That wasn’t unusual. The fact that he remained there in complete silence however, definitely was.

For several seconds he simply walked beside him without saying anything. Coming from Keonho, that was concerning enough on its own. When Seonghyeon finally glanced over, he immediately regretted it. Keonho was already staring at him. “Why are you looking at me like that?” Seonghyeon asked.

“I’m thinking.”

A sigh escaped him. The evening air had turned noticeably cooler now, students gradually filtering away from the field in small groups as the noise around them slowly faded into the distance. For a brief moment it almost seemed like Keonho might finally drop the subject. Then he spoke again.

“You know what I think?”

“No.”

“I think you’re lying.”

Seonghyeon barely reacted. Mostly because this conversation happened at least three times a week.

“About what?”

“I don’t know yet.”

The answer was so stupid that a laugh almost escaped him.

“No, seriously.” Keonho adjusted the strap of his bag before continuing. “You’ve been zoning out lately.”

That got his attention. It wasn’t the first time he’d heard something similar. Over the past week different people had made almost identical observations often enough that it was becoming difficult to ignore. Martin had asked whether he was tired. His mother had asked whether something was bothering him. Even the coach had commented on him being distracted during practice yesterday.

At the time Seonghyeon had brushed all of it off. Now however, standing on the sidewalk outside the school while Keonho kicked absentmindedly at loose gravel beside him, he found himself wondering whether they all had a point.

The problem was that he couldn’t figure out what exactly was different. Or rather, he could. He just didn’t particularly like the answer. Because every time he started pulling at the loose thread of the thought, it somehow led back to the same place. The same person. The same question. When was the last time he’d actually talked to y/n?

Not seen her. Not waved at her from the other end of a hallway. Talked to her, a proper conversation. The answer should’ve come immediately. Instead, he found himself drawing a blank.

And for reasons he couldn’t explain, that really bothered him.

By the time he got home later that evening, dropped his bag beside the door and collapsed onto his bed, the thought was still there. Which was annoying, because he had homework to finish and football practice again tomorrow. He had significantly more important things to think about. Yet somehow, while staring at the ceiling of his room, his mind drifted back to the same thing. He dug deep into his thoughts.

The first time was almost laughably insignificant. Class had just ended, and students were spilling into the hallways at every direction. Seonghyeon had been halfway through putting his books away when he spotted y/n a little farther down the corridor.

She was standing beside her locker, listening to something Haejin was saying. Or rather, dramatically performing. Haejin’s hands were moving so aggressively that even from a distance it looked less like a conversation and more like an emergency press conference.

Without really thinking about it, Seonghyeon started heading that way.

Then suddenly y/n grabbed Haejin by the wrist and dragged her around the corner. Gone. Seonghyeon stopped walking, he had simply stared at the space where she’d been stadning.

‘’Why are you just standing there?’’

He looked over and Juhoon was staring at him.

‘’Nothing-‘’

Juhoon looked unconvinced.

The second time happened during lunch, Seonghyeon had just entered the cafeteria when he noticed y/n sitting at her usual table. For some reason, the sight made him smile.

He grabbed his tray and joined his friends. Halfway through James’s completely unecessary rant about him having to balance both the exams- since he’s a few years older, and football practice, Seonghyeon glanced across the cafeteria again.

The seat was empty, he frowned.

‘’How dare they stack up on exams the second football season gets serious? I can’t be expected to memorize biology and score goals.’’

Yeah that was just background noise for Seonghyeon.

The third time was when it had actually started bothering him. School had ended, and the campus was filled by students and chatter. Seonghyeon, Keonho, Juhoon, Martin and James stood in front of the school, talking while Martin shot the basketball into the hoop continuously.

Suddenly, he spotted y/n coming out of the main entrance. She was carrying a bag over her shoulder, already heading toward the front gate. He considered calling her name, the thought had appeared automatically. Then he paused. Because that would be weird, wouldn’t it? He wasn’t even sure what he would’ve said. Hey? Hello? Why have we apparently forgotten how to exist in the same space lately?

Before he could decide, a group of guys crossed between them. By the time they passed, she had already disappeared around the corner. That annoyed him.

He found himself looking for her the next day. Which felt ridiculous, that’s what he told himself while scanning the cafeteria without realizing he was doing it. He didn’t understand why it had bothered him so much.

Everytime he looked up, she seemed to walk the other way. He could’ve sworn she stood wherever he saw her, then poof she’s gone again. He missed talking to her. The more he thought about it, the more he realized y/n hadn’t actually disappeared. She was still around.

The strange thing about time was that it continued moving whether you wanted it to or not.

A few weeks ago, you’d convinced yourself that liking Seonghyeon was some life altering catastrophe. Every conversation felt important. Every interaction lingered longer than it should have. You’d spent an embarrassing amount of energy thinking about things that in hindsight, probably didn’t deserve nearly that much attention.

Now however, life had begun settling back into place. It wasn’t really because your feelings had disappeared, they hadn’t. You still liked him, that much obvious.

The difference was that it felt like your entire existence no longer revolved around it. Somehow, focusing on all ordinary frustrations had made everything else feel smaller. For the first time in a while, you felt like yourself again, which was probably why you agreed to help one of your teachers after class.

It seemed harmless enough at the time. It was just a simple favour, five minutes of your time. Unfortunately, teachers had a very different understanding of the word simple. Twenty minutes later, you found yourself carrying what felt like the entire contents of a storage room through one of the academic buildings.

A stack of folders was balanced precariously against your chest, several textbooks were tucked underneath one arm and a plastic container filled with miscellaneous classroom supplies kept threatening to slide out of your grasp every time you took a step.

You couldn’t see properly.

You couldn’t walk properly.

You were beginning to suspect your teacher had deliberately chosen you because you looked too polite to say no.

The hallway itself was mostly empty. Classes had ended nearly half an hour ago, leaving only the occasional student lingering behind for clubs, sports or whatever mysterious activities seemed to keep people at school long after everyone else had gone home. The combination of limited visibility and questionable balance meant you didn’t notice someone approaching from the opposite direction.

Not until it was too late.

The collision wasn’t dramatic, nobofy went flying across the hallway, well just the stack of folders that immediately tilted sideways, and the plastic container that slipped- oh and a pencil case launched itself onto the floor.

And before you could react, several sheets of paper had already escaped and scattered across the hallway like they were making a run for freedom. For one dreadful second, you simply stood there staring. Of course this was happening. Then a voice spoke.

“Whoa.”

You froze. Slowly, you looked up.

Seonghyeon looked just as surprised as you felt, then he looked down at the disaster surrounding your feet. Then back up at you. Then back down again. A smile appeared.

“Don’t.”

“I’m not saying anything.”

“You’re thinking something.”

“I am.”

You sighed.

“Great.”

The smile widened slightly.

Without another word, he crouched down and began gathering the papers scattered across the floor.

You hated how familiar the sight felt.

A few months ago, seeing Eom Seonghyeon kneeling on a hallway floor collecting your homework would’ve felt absurd. Now it barely registered as unusual. Together, the two of you began collecting the mess. Most of it in silence. The kind that had somehow become normal between you before either of you noticed.

The strange thing was that for the first time in weeks, you weren’t hyperaware of him. You weren’t overthinking every word, you weren’t wondering what something meant. You were simply trying to stop your papers from disappearing underneath a nearby vending machine.

“You know,” Seonghyeon said eventually, handing over another folder “for somebody who was late because of a pen, I feel like this tracks.”

You stared at him then immediately groaned.

“No.”

“Oh, yes.”

“That happened once.”

“You were defeated by a mere pen.”

“I wasn’t defeated.”

“You absolutely were.”

To your annoyance, a laugh escaped before you could stop it. The sound earned a grin from him. The folders had been restacked, the notebooks gathered and the loose papers that had scattered across half the hallway had been retrieved. Only one sheet remained. It had drifted farther than the others. The hallway itself had grown noticeably quieter during the few minutes.

You moved first, or atleast you thought you did. The second you stepped forward, Seonghyeon did too. The realization seemed to hit both of you simultaneously. You stopped, he stopped. The paper remained exactly where it was.

‘’Go ahead.’’

You looked up.

‘’What?’’

‘’You saw it first.’’

‘’No i didn’t’’

‘’You did.’’

‘’I was being polite.’’

‘’You’re never polite.’’

The response left his mouth so quickly that he seemed to realize what he had said only afterward. You stared at him, and he stared back. Then a smile appeared, it was small. The kind that always seemed to show up before he could stop it.

‘’You know what i mean.’’

‘’Do i?’’

‘’No.’’

You smiled- it was stupid. You loved the conversations, you missed them. Both of you moved at the same time again. The result was immediate. Your shoulders bumped together.

‘’Ow.’’

You immediately laughed in shock. He was being dramatic, it was a small bump.

The past few weeks suddenly seemed a little ridiculous. Seonghyeon spent so much time wondering why something felt off only to discover the answer was embarrassingly simple. He’d missed this aswell.

Haejin had never been particularly interested in making your life easier. The first sign of trouble appeared at exactly 5:34 PM on a Saturday.

Your phone buzzed.

Haejin

Can i come overrrr~

You stared at the message. Of course she could, rather it was weird she didn’t show up at your door to ask that.

You

obv

Three dots appeared almost immediately.

Haejin

keonho is coming too apparently

You

Oh

Why?

Haejin

because he’s annoying and won’t leave me alone

he just texted me

he’s already on the bus

Before you could gather your thoughts to respond, another message arrived.

Haejin

oh Seonghyeon’s coming too

You nearly dropped your phone.

The thirty minutes Haejin had promised turned into forty three. Not that you were counting. You absolutely weren’t. The problem was that once somebody informed you that Haejin, Keonho and more importantly- Seonghyeon would be entering your house, suddenly every insignificant detail became a problem.

The blanket draped over the couch looked wrong. The cushions looked wrong. The stack of books sitting on the coffee table looked wrong. Even the framed photo sitting on the shelf near the television somehow looked wrong despite having remained in the exact same position for nearly three years. You were in the middle of rearranging the cushions for the third time when a voice spoke from behind you.

‘’Is Haejin coming over?’’

Your mother stood in the doorway between the kitchen and living room. Her eyes moved from you to the perfectly arranged couch, then to the freshly folded blanket, then to the coffee table you’d wiped down approximately fifteen minutes ago.

You nodded, before following it up.

‘’And two other friends.’’

‘’That’s fine- Should i go make something? A snackplate? Cut up some fruits?’’

‘’No, that’s okay.’’

The doorbell rang. The sound practically echoed throughout the house. The second your hand touched the doorknob, you could swear your heart dropped, like seriously. The door opened, and Haejin immediately walked inside without waiting for an invitation.

‘’Hello to you too.’’ You said.

‘’Thank you.’’

‘’What?’’

Behind her came Keonho, then Seonghyeon.

For some reason, seeing him standing on your doorstep felt stranger than seeing him anywhere else. Maybe because he’s become so firmly associated with school that your brain momentarily struggled to place him here. There was no football field, no hallway. Just your front porch, and Seonghyeon standing on it looking mildly uncomfortable beneath your scrunity. There was a long pause, it felt awkward.

‘’Hi.’’

Immediately, you wanted to throw yourself into traffic. It was a groundbreaking greeting, really. Thankfully, Seonghyeon wasn’t much better.

‘’Hi.’’

Behind him, Keonho sighed dramatically. ‘’This is painful.’’

The two of them stepped inside while Haejin continued acting like she had lived there for years. Almost immediately, your mother appeared from the kitchen.

‘’Hello, dear.’’

‘’Hi!’’

The response came so naturally that it sounded like a part of a routine they had performed hundreds of times before. Then your mother looked toward the boys. Before Seonghyeon could do anything, Keonho stepped forward.

‘’I’m Keonho,’’

‘’Nice to meet you.’’

‘’And that’s Seonghyeon.’’

A brief silence followed. Seonghyeon looked over, Keonho looked back.

‘’I can introduce myself.’’

‘’You were taking too long.’’

‘’You spoke first.’’

‘’Exactly.’’

Your mother laughed.

‘’It’s nice to meet both of you.’’

‘’Nice to meet you too.’’ Seonghyeon replied, then bowed out of respect, Keonho followed. Hearing him speak to your mother felt oddly surreal. Your mother smiled politely.

The second everyone made it upstairs, the energy somehow shifted.

Maybe it was because school had become such a permanent backdrop to all of your interactions that seeing those same people inside your house felt strangely unnatural. Haejin immediately made herself comfortable. Keonho wasn’t much better.

He wandered around without shame, examining random objects on your shelves with the confidence of somebody who had been granted permission despite the fact nobody had actually given him any. Meanwhile, you found yourself standing near your desk, suddenly hyperaware of everything around you.

The room wasn’t messy. That wasn’t the problem. The problem was that it was yours.

School only allowed people to know certain versions of each other. Hallway conversations. Lunch breaks. Shared classes. Small pieces. Nobody saw what happened outside of that. Nobody saw your room at midnight when you were studying for exams. Nobody saw the stuff lying on your vanity or the old concert tickets tucked into your mirror frame. Nobody saw the photos you had forgotten were hanging on the wall until this exact moment.

And Seonghyeon seemed to notice everything.

Not in an obvious way. He wasn’t walking around inspecting things. If anything, he seemed quieter than usual. While Keonho was busy making himself at home and Haejin was already flopped across your bed scrolling through her phone, Seonghyeon’s gaze occasionally drifted around the room before moving elsewhere again. Small observations. Brief glances. Yet somehow those felt worse. You couldn’t tell whether he was actually paying attention or whether your brain was simply inventing reasons to be nervous.

“You definitely cleaned.”

You immediately looked at Haejin.

“No.”

“Yes you did.”

“I didn’t.”

“You moved something.”

“I didn’t.”

Haejin’s eyes slowly travelled across the room.

“The cushions downstairs.”

You hated her.

The smile spreading across her face told you she’d won.

“Oh my god. You did move the cushions.”

“I hate talking to you.”

From somewhere beside the bookshelf, a laugh escaped Keonho.

“You cleaned for us?”

“It wasn’t for you.”

The room fell silent for half a second before Haejin started laughing because of Keonho’s reaction. The next hour passed surprisingly quickly. Conversations drifted from one topic to another without much direction. Somebody brought up an old teacher. That somehow became a discussion about embarrassing middle school memories. Then football. Then exams. Then an argument, nobody actually cared about the answer. The argument continued anyway.

At some point, somebody stole your blanket. At some point, Keonho and Haejin became invested in a debate so stupid that the original topic had long since been forgotten.

“You are fundamentally misunderstanding the point.”

“I understand it perfectly.”

“No, you don’t.”

“You’re just wrong.”

“I’m always right.”

“That’s not how opinions work.”

Watching them argue was a bit like watching two people accidentally start a fire and then continue pouring gasoline on it.

Eventually, they ended up sitting on the floor near your television, completely absorbed in whatever nonsense they were discussing now. For the first time all afternoon, the room became quieter. You were sitting near the edge of your bed, scrolling through your phone while the sound of Haejin and Keonho arguing faded into the background. Beside you, Seonghyeon sat comfortably against the wall. Neither of you were really speaking.

The silence wasn’t awkward. A few months ago, silence between you would’ve felt unbearable. Now it barely registered. You scrolled past an old photo without thinking, then immediately scrolled back. A small laugh escaped you.

“What?”

You glanced up.

“Nothing.”

“That’s never true.”

You looked back down at the screen.

“It was from middle school.”

“Let me see.”

Without thinking, you handed him your phone but the second you did, you regretted it. Because the photo was awful. Seonghyeon looked at the screen, then looked at you. He smiled.

“What?” His smile widened.

“You look twelve.”

“I was twelve.”

“You look younger than twelve.”

“Give it back.”

You reached for the phone. At the exact same moment he pulled it slightly away, your hand brushed against his. The movement was tiny, it was barely anything. Yet both of you froze for a second. The noise from the rest of the room suddenly felt strangely distant. You weren’t sure why, it was stupid. People accidentally touched hands all the time, nothing should’ve happened.

Then Seonghyeon handed the phone back.

And somewhere across the room, Haejin suddenly yelled:

“THAT’S LITERALLY NOT WHAT I SAID.”

Seonghyeon didn’t realize he was still thinking about it until he walked straight into his bedroom door. The impact wasn’t hard enough to hurt, but it was embarrassing enough that he immediately looked around despite being completely alone. A second later he let out a quiet groan and rubbed a hand over his face.

A few minutes later after showering and changing into comfortable clothes, he found himself sitting on the edge of his bed with a towel draped around his neck. His phone had been abandoned somewhere beside him. Downstairs, he could faintly hear the television playing. Everything felt normal. The day was over. There was absolutely no reason for him to still be thinking about it.

Nothing important had happened. They had gone to y/n’s house, wasted an entire afternoon doing nothing productive, listened to Keonho and Haejin argue about things neither of them cared enough to remember and eventually gone home. That was it. Yet every time Seonghyeon tried focusing on something else, his mind drifted right back there again.

The strangest part wasn’t that he had seen y/n’s room for the first time. It wasn’t even that he had spent several hours with her outside of school. It was the fact that every new thing he had learned about her somehow felt oddly expected. Not because he knew those things already, but because they fit.

The way everything looked slightly messy until you paid attention and realized there was a system behind it. Even the way she’d reacted whenever somebody pointed something out. Half embarrassed. Half annoyed. Like she wanted people to know her but only on her own terms.

A quiet laugh escaped him before he could stop it. He could already imagine how offended she’d be if she knew he was sitting here psychoanalyzing her bedroom.The thought should’ve ended there, instead another one immediately followed.

The look on her face when Haejin exposed the fact that she had obviously cleaned before they arrived. The way she tried denying it despite the evidence being painfully obvious. Then the laugh she’d let out later. Then the smile she’d been trying not to show when he teased her.

Seonghyeon dropped backward onto his mattress and stared at the ceiling. There it was again. That same problem. Every thought somehow led back to her. It was infuriating, it’s like his brain had no originality.

He had known y/n for what? A couple of months? Yet lately it felt like she kept appearing in places she wasn’t even supposed to be. In random thoughts, in conversations, in moments where he was supposed to be focusing on literally anything else. It was getting harder and harder to ignore. For the first time, Seonghyeon found himself staring directly at a possibility he had been avoiding for weeks. Not accepting it. Definitely not accepting it. Just looking at it from a safe distance. Then immediately backing away.

Nope, absolutely not.

For a long moment he simply layed there with one arm thrown across his face, feeling increasingly annoyed with himself. Because the more he thought about it, the worse his life defense became. Maybe there wasn’t some complicated explanation. Maybe the reason he had spent weeks looking for her in crowded hallways, noticing when she wasn’t around, and wondering why everything felt different lately wasn’t because something weird was happening.

Maybe the problem was much simpler than that, and that’s exactly why he didn’t wanna think about it, didn’t wanna consider it.

The problem started with a pencil.

Not because the pencil itself was important. It wasn’t. The pencil belonged to Keonho, who had somehow managed to drop it three separate times during a single class period. By the third time, the teacher looked ready to launch it out the nearest window.

A few people around the classroom were already trying and failing to hide their laughter, while Keonho seemed completely oblivious to the fact that he was seconds away from becoming someone’s least favorite student.

Normally, Seonghyeon would’ve found this entertaining. He probably would’ve made a comment. Maybe laughed. Maybe joined Martin in making fun of Keonho later. Instead, he was staring out the classroom window, his attention drifting somewhere beyond the teacher’s voice and the half finished notes sitting in front of him.

He wasn’t thinking about anything in particular. At least, that was what he told himself. The lesson had become background noise a long time ago, blending together with the scratching of pencils, turning pages and the occasional sigh from students who had already mentally checked out for the day.

Outside, students crossed the courtyard below in small groups. Some were heading back toward the academic building after lunch while others lingered near the benches despite the fact that the break had ended nearly ten minutes ago. From up here everyone looked smaller, moving through familiar routines without much urgency. It was the sort of thing he would’ve glanced at for a second before looking away.

Then movement caught his attention. Someone familiar stepped through the courtyard gate. Immediately, his eyes followed. Which would’ve been fine if he hadn’t recognized her from half a building away. That felt excessive.

The distance alone should’ve made it impossible. He couldn’t even properly see her face from here. Yet somehow he had known it was y/n before he consciously registered any actual details. Before he thought about it. Before he even realized he was paying attention.

She was walking beside somebody. Just some guy from their year that Seonghyeon vaguely recognized. For a moment, he found himself watching longer than necessary. Not because anything unusual was happening. The opposite, actually. They were just talking. The guy said something and y/n laughed before shaking her head slightly. Then the conversation continued as if nothing had happened.

Have they always been friends?

Worked on a project together?

Why was he even thinking about this?

Because he genuinely didn’t care. He shouldn’t, atleast. His eyes remained fixed on the courtyard for another moment before he finally looked away. The strange thing was that nothing about the situation actually bothered him. Y/n was allowed to talk to whoever she wanted. She was allowed to have other friends. The thought shouldn’t have occupied more than two seconds of his attention.

The thought lingered for the rest of the lesson. It followed him when the bell rang, when students immediately began shoving books into bags and when Keonho somehow dropped the same pencil again while standing up.

Seonghyeon barely heard Martin laughing about it beside him. His attention had drifted elsewhere. Not toward the courtyard anymore, but toward the uncomfortable realization itself. A few months ago, he wouldn’t have noticed.

A few months ago, y/n would’ve blended into the hundreds of students moving around campus every day. Not really because there was anything forgettable about her, but because she had never given people a reason to look twice. She wasn’t loud. She didn’t try to draw attention to herself. Half the time she seemed perfectly content existing just outside the center of things.

The weather was unusually good, good enough that nobody wanted to spend lunch indoors. The football field, basketball court and every bench around campus were crowded with students taking advantage of the rare sunshine. Conversations echoed across the courtyard.

Seonghyeon sat on a low concrete wall near the basketball court with Martin, Keonho, James and Juhoon. Or rather, everyone else was sitting. Martin had somehow convinced himself he was the next basketball prodigy and had spent the last ten minutes repeatedly shooting the same ball at the hoop missing every time.

“You know,” James said, watching another failed attempt, “at some point this becomes a public safety hazard.”

Martin caught the rebound.

“You people don’t understand greatness.”

“Stick to football, please.”

Martin looked offended.

Beside them, Keonho was lying dramatically across the wall as if he’d just survived a life threatening event.

“I’ve decided something.”

Nobody reacted.

“I’m serious.”

Still nothing.

“You guys never support me.”

Juhoon didn’t even look up from his phone. “That’s because your ideas are usually terrible.”

“See? Exactly what I’m talking about.”

James sighed.

“What realization have you had now?”

Keonho sat up immediately.

“I should get priority in the cafeteria queue.”

‘’Why?’’

‘’Because i’m an athlete.’’

‘’…and so are we.’’

‘’Yeaaaaah- whatever.’’ Keonho immediately leaned back again.

The bookstore had always felt different after sunset.

Because there were fewer people around, or because the street outside became quieter once the shops started closing for the evening. Whatever the reason, everything seemed softer at night. The warm yellow lights reflected against the shelves, the air smelled faintly of paper and old wood and somewhere near the front counter low music played quietly enough that it blended into the background. It was one of the reasons you came here so often. Nobody bothered you. You could spend an hour staring at the same shelf and nobody would question it.

Which was exactly what you had been doing for the last ten minutes. At least until a familiar voice drifted from somewhere deeper in the store. You didn’t react immediately. At first your brain simply registered the sound as familiar. Then a second passed. Then another. And suddenly your head snapped up.

For a brief moment you genuinely convinced yourself you were imagining things. The possibility would’ve been less embarrassing than the alternative. Slowly, you stepped around the end of a bookshelf and glanced down the next aisle. Immediately, your stomach betrayed you.

Because standing near the back of the store was Seonghyeon. Not somebody who looked like him. It was him. Seeing him here felt like spotting a teacher at the grocery store. Not wrong exactly, just unsettling enough to force your brain to restart.

He was standing beside a rolling cart filled with books, listening while the owner explained something. Every now and then he would nod before reaching over to place another book onto a shelf. Judging by how comfortably he moved around the store, this clearly wasn’t his first time here. Then the owner noticed you. His face brightened instantly. “Y/n.”

Oh great, Seonghyeon was turning around too. For a second, surprise crossed his face. Then he smiled. The same smile that had become increasingly dangerous for your emotional wellbeing over the past few months.

“Hey.’’

It still managed to make your heart forget how to function. The owner looked between the two of you before immediately deciding this was the most entertaining thing that had happened all week.

“You two know each other?”

The silence that followed felt unnecessarily heavy. Technically, the answer was simple. Still, none of you spoke immediately. Eventually Seonghyeon answered first. “We go to school together.”

The owner looked unconvinced. You understood why. Because there was something suspicious about the way Seonghyeon had smiled while saying it. As if the answer was technically true. Just not the entire truth.

The owner eventually disappeared toward the front of the store after receiving a late delivery, leaving the two of you alone with several half empty shelves and a cart stacked with books that apparently needed to be reorganized before closing. The task itself wasn’t particularly difficult, but the aisle he had assigned you to was.

It was narrow enough that every time one of you moved, the other had to adjust accordingly. At first neither of you paid much attention to it. The conversation flowed naturally. It should have felt normal. In theory, it was normal. Still, somewhere between reaching for the same stack of novels and arguing over whether a book belonged in the mystery section or literary fiction, you became increasingly aware of how little space actually existed between the two of you.

You noticed gradually rather than all at once. One moment you were focused on sorting books, the next you found yourself noticing things that shouldn’t have mattered. The sleeves of Seonghyeon’s hoodie were pushed up to his forearms. His hair kept falling into his eyes every few minutes. Every time it did, he would push it back before continuing whatever he was doing. It wasn’t remarkable.

It wasn’t even interesting. Yet for some reason, your attention kept returning to it. Across from you, Seonghyeon wasn’t doing much better. He had spent the last several weeks trying very hard not to think too deeply about certain things, only to discover that being alone with you outside school made that task significantly more difficult. At school there were distractions. Friends, classes, teachers, noise. Here there was only the soft hum of the bookstore, the occasional turning page from a customer somewhere in the distance, and you.

You reached for a book resting near the top shelf at the exact same moment Seonghyeon stepped forward to place another back in its place. Neither of you noticed the timing until it was already too late. The aisle was far too narrow for both movements to happen at once. One second you were focused entirely on the shelf in front of you, the next you found yourself stopping abruptly as Seonghyeon did the same. Far too close.

You hadn’t walked into him. Neither of you had. Yet somehow the distance between you had disappeared anyway. The narrow aisle had trapped both of you in the same small space and now neither of you could move without brushing past the other. Instinctively, you took a small step backward. Though, your shoulder bumped lightly against the bookshelf behind you, leaving nowhere else to go. The movement seemed to catch Seonghyeon’s attention. His eyes flickered toward you before immediately looking away again. Then back. That was worse.

Because now he was actually looking at you. Not casually. Not the way he normally did. The kind of look that lasted a second too long. The kind that made you suddenly aware of every inch separating you.

Neither of you moved. Somewhere outside, a car passed by. Somewhere inside, somebody turned a page. Neither sound felt real. Not compared to this. Not compared to the fact that Seonghyeon was standing close enough for you to notice details you never should have been able to notice. The faint scent of his cologne. The slight rise and fall of his breathing. The way his gaze kept dropping for the briefest moments before returning to your eyes again.

Seonghyeon wasn’t doing much better. A normal person would have stepped away by now. That was the logical thing to do. The obvious thing. Yet for some reason, neither of them seemed capable of being the first one to move. His hand was still resting against the shelf above your shoulder. Not touching you. Close enough that it felt like it.

Close enough that every rational thought in his head had abruptly stopped functioning. He couldn’t even remember what book he had been reaching for. Couldn’t remember what either of you had been talking about thirty seconds ago. All he knew was that you were looking up at him and that suddenly felt like a very torturous thing. The silence stretched. Your eyes dropped briefly, then lifted again.

Mistake.

Because the second your gaze met his again, something shifted. Neither of you moved, yet the distance felt smaller than before. Small enough that for one completely irrational second, the possibility crossed both of your minds at the same time. And judging by the way Seonghyeon’s breathing faltered, he knew it too.

The sound of a stack of books being dropped somewhere near the front counter shattered the moment instantly. Both of you stepped back so fast it almost hurt.

The rest of the evening felt strangely disconnected after that.

You had left the bookstore not long after, mumbling some excuse about needing to get home before it got too late. The owner had teased you for leaving earlier than usual, but you barely remembered what you had said in response. Your brain had been somewhere else entirely.

The walk home should’ve felt familiar. You had taken the same route hundreds of times before. The same streets. The same convenience store on the corner. The same traffic lights that always seemed determined to turn red at the worst possible moment. Yet everything felt slightly off, as if somebody had shifted the world half an inch to the left without telling you.

The problem was that your brain had apparently become incapable of behaving normally whenever he was involved. Every time you replayed the evening, you found yourself stopping at the same moment. Your thoughts kept drifting there on their own. The narrow aisle. The silence. The way neither of you had moved. The way you suddenly became aware of absurd things you never paid attention to before, like how close he was standing or how easy it would’ve been to reach out and touch him.

Meanwhile, Seonghyeon made it approximately twelve minutes before realizing he was completely screwed.

The bookstore owner had eventually returned to find him standing in the wrong aisle holding a book he had already shelved three separate times. Seonghyeon wasn’t usually the type to get distracted. If anything, one of the things people liked most about him was how calm he was under pressure. Football matches didn’t stress him out, presentations didn’t stress him out. Exams stressed him out a little, but not enough to make him lose sleep. One interaction with y/n had completely destroyed his ability to focus. The owner had asked him a question and Seonghyeon had stared at him for three seconds before realizing he had not heard a single word.

Every time he thought he had moved on, he would remember some tiny detail and immediately get distracted again. The way she looked up at him. The way she froze. The fact that neither of them had stepped away immediately. That part bothered him most. A normal person would’ve moved. A normal person would’ve laughed it off and continued shelving books. Instead, they had both just stood there staring at each other like complete idiots until somebody dropped books near the front counter and snapped them back to reality.

The days after the bookstore felt strangely normal on the surface and completely unbearable underneath. Y/n would be halfway through listening to Haejin before suddenly remembering the look on Seonghyeon’s face in that aisle and immediately losing track of the conversation. Seonghyeon wasn’t doing much better. Looking for y/n had somehow become a habit. Not a conscious one. His eyes just seemed to find her automatically now, and what bothered him most wasn’t seeing her. It was when he couldn’t.

By Thursday afternoon, students flooded out of their classrooms as the bell rang. Conversations echoed through the hallways while people pushed toward their next lesson. Seonghyeon was walking with his friends, half listening to whatever argument Keonho was currently having, when he spotted y/n a little ahead. She was walking through the crowd. He didn’t think about it. Not really. The words left his mouth before his brain had the opportunity to intervene.

‘’You coming this friday?’’ The second he said it, she turned around.

‘’What?’’

Seonghyeon blinked, for a moment neither spoke.

‘’Where?’’

And suddenly every functioning thought in Seonghyeon’s head disappeared. Apparently, he had skipped an entire conversation.

‘’You know..’’ He started. No, obviously she didn’t know.

‘’The game.’’ She stared. ‘’The football game?’’

‘’Yeah.’’ Only now did Seonghyeon realize how insane this looked. They had never actually discussed her coming. Not once. For some reason though, it had already become a possibility in his head.

‘’Oh.’’ The hallway suddenly felt far too crowded. ‘’You don’t have to.’’ The words came out faster than he intended and he immediately regretted them, because now it sounded like he didn’t care. Which wasn’t true. Not even remotely. ‘’You could- you-‘’ He paused, then looked at her. Actually looked at her. ‘’I’d like it if you did.’’

Y/n’s heart had stopped functioning. There was no reason that sentence should’ve affected her the way it did. It wasn’t a confession. It wasn’t even flirting. Yet standing there in the middle of a crowded hallway, it felt dangerously close to something else. And suddenly she realized he actually meant it.

He wanted her there. A smile threatened to appear, she fought it immediately and failed. ‘’Okay.’’ The answer came out softer than she had intended.

Something shifted in Seonghyeon’s expression. The tension in his shoulders eased and the smallest smile appeared.

By the time you arrived, most of the stadium was still empty. The match wasn’t starting for another hour, leaving the school caught in that strange period between preparation and chaos. Staff moved equipment across the field, a few students wandered through the entrance gates and somewhere deeper inside the athletic building, the football team was getting ready. You honestly hadn’t planned on coming this early. At least, that was what you kept telling yourself. The hallway leading toward the locker rooms was nearly deserted when you spotted him.

Seonghyeon was standing beside a row of lockers, already dressed in his uniform, one hand resting against the metal door while he searched through his bag for something. For a moment, you simply watched. It felt unfair how normal he looked. Like he hadn’t spent the last few weeks slowly becoming the cause of half your problems.

Maybe he felt you staring, because a second later he looked up and smiled. Not the polite smile. Not the one he gave teachers. The real one. The one that always seemed to appear before he could stop it.

“You know the game’s not starting for another hour, right?” The greeting caught you off guard.

“What, you’re kicking me out already?”

“No,” he said immediately, a little too quickly.

“I’m just trying to figure out why you’re here this early.”

You adjusted the strap of your bag. “Maybe I have nothing better to do.”

“That’s depressing.” You stared at him.

“You’re about to play an important match.”

“And you’re making fun of me.”

“I’m helping you stay humble.” A laugh escaped him, and for a moment neither of you said anything else. The conversation should’ve ended there. It didn’t. For some reason, Seonghyeon was still standing there. For some reason, you were too.

“You nervous?” you asked eventually.

“About the game?” You nodded.

“Unless you’re secretly taking a math exam afterwards.” His smile returned.

“A little.” The answer surprised you, it sounded genuine.

“You?” he asked. You frowned. “What?”

“Nervous.”

“Why would I be nervous?” Something shifted in his expression. “Good question.” The look he gave you made your stomach drop because suddenly it didn’t feel like you were talking about football anymore.

The silence that followed wasn’t awkward. That was the problem. It felt too easy. Too comfortable. The kind of silence that only happened when you genuinely liked being around someone. You looked away first, which immediately turned out to be a mistake because the second you did, you became aware of how close he was standing. Not close enough to be strange. Close enough to matter. When you looked back up, Seonghyeon was already looking at you.

Neither of you moved. Neither of you spoke. The hallway felt quieter than before, and you couldn’t remember what you had been about to say. His gaze dropped for the briefest second before lifting again. The movement was tiny. It still made your heart nearly stop. For the first time since you had met him, Seonghyeon looked completely thrown off, like he was realizing something at the exact same time you were.

The realization hung between you. Neither of you acknowledged it. Neither of you looked away. The distance somehow felt smaller now. A lot smaller. You weren’t sure whether one of you had stepped forward or if you had simply stopped paying attention to everything except him. Seonghyeon let out a quiet breath. His eyes flickered down again. This time neither of you pretended not to notice. The moment stretched. One second. Two. Three. Long enough for your pulse to start racing. Long enough for him to look like he’d completely forgotten where he was.

Long enough that if either of you moved even slightly-

“SEONGHYEON!”

The shout echoed through the hallway, making both of you jump apart so fast it was embarrassing. A teammate appeared around the corner. “Coach is looking for you.” Seonghyeon genuinely looked annoyed. Actually annoyed. Which somehow made everything worse.

“Yeah.” he muttered. The teammate disappeared again, leaving the two of you standing there in the aftermath of something neither of you seemed willing to acknowledge.

Then Seonghyeon rubbed the back of his neck and let out a short laugh. “I should probably go before he benches me.”

“Probably.”

Then he looked at you properly. Not past you. Not around you. At you.

‘’Stay until the game finishes.’’

You blinked.

‘’What?’’

‘’You came all the way here, it’d be rude to leave earlier.’’ The excuse was terrible, both of you knew it. You were smiling. You gave him a reassuring hum. His own smile softened.

The whistle blew before you were ready for it.

Almost immediately, the atmosphere shifted. The scattered conversations around the stadium disappeared beneath the sound of cheering as both teams surged forward. Whatever relaxed energy had existed before kickoff vanished entirely. Suddenly everything felt louder. Faster. More important. You tried focusing, you really did.

For the first few minutes, your attention stayed where it was supposed to. The ball moved rapidly across the field, players weaving around each other while the crowd reacted to every near miss and interception. It was impossible not to get caught up in it. Even people who barely cared about football seemed invested tonight.

Then your thoughts wandered. Without warning, your mind dragged you back to the hallway. To the silence. To the way Seonghyeon had looked at you. A collective groan erupted from the crowd. You blinked. Apparently you missed something.

“That would’ve been such a good goal!’’ Haejin complained beside you.

“Are you even watching?’’

‘’I am.’’

‘’You’re not!’’

Before you could argue, the game resumed and your attention returned to the field. This time it stayed there for a while.The match itself was good. Really good. Both teams were evenly matched which only made the atmosphere more intense. Every attack felt intense. Every mistake earned a reaction from the crowd. By the time twenty minutes had passed, even you had stopped pretending not to care. A player from the opposing team broke through the defense. The stadium collectively held its breath. The shot missed by centimeters and the entire crowd exploded. Students jumped to their feet.

And before you realized it, you were standing too. For a moment, you just stared then slowly sat back down.

Huh. Maybe football wasn’t completely boring.

The final minutes of the match passed in a blur. The score was tied. Every touch of the ball seemed to pull a reaction from the crowd, every mistake earning groans and every opportunity drawing people to the edge of their seats. Even students who barely cared about football were standing now. The atmosphere had become infectious. Somewhere beside you, Haejin had completely abandoned any attempt at acting normal. She was half standing, half leaning over the railing, reacting to every play as if her life depended on it.

The clock was running down when Seonghyeon received the ball near midfield. The crowd immediately reacted. Maybe it was because everybody trusted him. Whatever the reason, the second he moved forward thousands of eyes followed. Including yours. The play happened so quickly you barely had time to process it. A pass. A turn. Somebody shouting. Then suddenly the ball hit the back of the net. The stadium exploded, the noise that had erupted was unbelievable.

Students jumped to their feet. Teammates rushed across the field. People screamed loud enough to make your ears ring. Somewhere beside you, Haejin grabbed your shoulders and started shaking you like she had personally scored the goal herself. You laughed in surprise.

The first thing Seonghyeon did after his teammates swarmed him was lift his head and look at you. The distance between you was enormous. The field, the track, hundreds of people, yet he found you.

The final whistle blew moments later. The match was over. The celebration wasn’t. Students immediately flooded toward the exits, some heading for the field while others crowded around friends and teammates. The entire stadium seemed alive with movement. You lingered for a while, letting people pass before eventually gathering your things.

You weren’t entirely sure where you were going. Only that suddenly being surrounded by hundreds of people felt overwhelming. The night air was cooler outside the stadium. The noise became quieter with every step until it faded into the background completely. For the first time all evening, you were alone with your thoughts.

You had almost reached the corner of the building when you heard footsteps behind you. You turned around, it was Seonghyeon. He was still wearing his uniform, still slightly out of breath. He looked at you, the corners of Seonghyeon’s mouth lifted first.

“You were leaving.”

You laughed softly.

“Why does everybody keep accusing me of that?”

“Because you keep doing it.”

“I wasn’t.”

“You were.”

Maybe you would’ve argued. Maybe you would’ve defended yourself. You found yourself smiling instead. The noise from the stadium felt distant now. The world seemed smaller somehow. Reduced to the stretch of pavement between the two of you and the fact that neither of you seemed interested in leaving.

A group of students passed somewhere behind Seonghyeon still loud from the match, still arguing over goals and missed opportunities and who deserved credit for the win. One of them called his name. Normally he would’ve responded automatically. You had seen it happen a hundred times before. Yet he didn’t even turn around. His attention never left you. Something about that made your stomach flip.

For months, Seonghyeon had existed in constant motion. Surrounded by teammates, friends, conversations. There was always somebody looking for him. Always somewhere else he needed to be. Now, after one of the biggest matches of the season, after scoring the winning goal, after spending two hours being pulled in every direction, he was standing here looking at you like the rest of the world had become background noise.

The smile on Seonghyeon’s face faded slightly. Your pulse sped up immediately, you knew. Not what he was thinking, not exactly. However, you knew this moment mattered.

The distance between you felt ridiculous, like it was the only thing both of you could focus on. Every second stretched longer than it should have. Your heart was beating so hard, you became painfully aware of it.

Seonghyeon took a step forward. You hated how quickly your breath caught. You hated how your eyes immediately dropped before finding his again. You hated that he noticed. You were standing close enough to notice details you never should’ve noticed. The faint flush lingering across his cheeks from the match. The way his hair had fallen messily across his forehead. The fact that he looked just as overwhelmed as you felt.

Your hand found the sleeve of his jersey before you even realized what you were doing. The second your fingers curled around the fabric, Seonghyeon’s eyes dropped to your hand. Then back to you. Something in his expression completely softened. Then finally, after a dreadful amount of missed chances and interrupted moments and terrible timing,

Seonghyeon kissed you.

The football field, the crowd, the noise from the stadium, all of it disappeared into the background until there was nothing left except the overwhelming realization that this was actually happening. The kiss wasn’t rushed, it felt like both of you had spent so long circling around this moment that neither of you quite knew what to do once you had reached it. Your grip tightened slightly against his jersey without meaning to, and something about that made his hand find yours.

You had spent weeks turning Seonghyeon into a problem inside your head. Something complicated. Something impossible to ignore. Yet standing here now, there was nothing complicated about it.

Then, your lips crashed against his. Off-center at first, your nose bumping his jaw accidentally before you corrected. You were pulling him closer. Seonghyeon had reacted immediately, his hands reached to cup your face delicately. His lips were warm and softer than you had expected for a boy who felt so intimidating and cold at first. The contrast sent something sharp down your spine.

He shifted one of his hands to your waist, the touch light at first, like he was questioning if you’d pull away. You didn’t, you kissed him harder. He tilted his head, adjusting the angle, and suddenly the kiss fit differently, better, deeper. His chest was pressed against yours. Your heart was pounding, he could feel it. Or maybe it was his own heart.

His thumb was brushing along your cheekbone, tilting your face up to meet his more fully. He kissed you properly now, he matched your energy. He kissed you until his lips were numb, he kissed you with genuine love. He kissed you like he was trying to get inside your skin. He was a mess for you. He took over the pacing, guiding slowly through it.

At some point, neither of you seemed to care how long you had been standing there. When you finally pulled apart, it wasn’t because either of you wanted to. It was because breathing had become somewhat important. The distance between you barely existed. Seonghyeon’s hand remained at your waist, his forehead nearly brushing yours as both of you tried to remember how to function.

You simply looked at each other. Weirdly, after months of wondering and guessing and pretending not to notice, that felt like enough. For the first time since all of this started, neither of you had to question it anymore.

Seonghyeon liked you.

You liked Seonghyeon.

And after everything it had taken to get here, It felt so good.

The next morning felt strangely normal. The school building was still crowded. Students still dragged themselves through the hallways half awake. Somewhere down the corridor, Martin was already being unnecessarily loud before first period had even started.

He was greeting everyone with the biggest smile plastered across his face, he was way too happy at 8:30 in the morning. Not as happy as you though. Your cheeks hurt, genuienly hurt reaching the main building. Everytime you remembered yesterday, another smile appeared before you could stop it. You were very warm, you just hoped it wasn’t obvious externally.

‘’You look happy.’’

You looked up, Seonghyeon was standing beside your locker. Immediately your smile got worse, a strange feeling in your stomach had come from nowhere when you looked at him.

‘’Hi.’’

He smiled.

His hand found yours so naturally it almost sent shivers through your body. His fingers slipping through yours as though they’d belonged there since forever. The action sent a completely unreasonable amount of warmth through your chest.

the two of you started walking toward your classroom. The hallway buzzed with conversation around you, people moving in every direction. A few students greeted Seonghyeon as they passed. He greeted them back automatically. Everything felt familiar. Yet every few steps your attention drifted toward your joined hands again. It was such a small thing.

“You know,” Seonghyeon said after a moment, glancing sideways, “you look less tired today.” You immediately narrowed your eyes. “You said I looked tired.”

“I said you were tired.”

“No.’’

“I meant it differently.”

“Sure.”

You tried very hard not to smile. Failed immediately. Beside you, Seonghyeon looked equally hopeless. The two of you reached your classroom far too quickly. Students were already filtering inside. The bell would ring any minute now. Neither of you seemed particularly eager to acknowledge that. Eventually, Seonghyeon stopped outside the door.

“So.”

‘’So.’’

A smile appeared, and a matching one answered it. Then Seonghyeon sqeezed your hand once before letting you go.

‘’I’ll see you later.’’

☘︎

════════════════════════════════════

( ℰ🪽 ) —— no divider again bcuz of the pic limit LMFAOO i didnt realize i went over 30 :'(( so for part 2, i'll add those parts that didnt make the cut ! ALSO after i post this, im making the hoon smau part 3 !

perm taglist / my loves ( ´ ∀ `)ノ～ ♡ @kienhawon @evangelicai @hyuneskkami @mailovesreading @vikeuchu @coergene @ilofflee @bhunlit

The house was alone, just you and your thoughts, your parents were not home because they had a wedding outside of the city, and your sibling decided that they wanted to hang out at some friends house. You needed to handle it by yourself.

You chug a lot of water, and braced yourself for the best, or worst. Changed shoes and walked out of the door. It was chilly as always and out of the anger and tiredness you felt for the situation, you forgot to wear a coat. With steps that didn’t show how anxious you were feeling, you walked towards your neighbours house. It had happened before, you asking him to shut the fuck up, but it always made you insecure. He probably thought you were annoying and a killjoy girl that had nothing better to do, but if that allowed you to sleep, you’d take it.

The house seemed normal on the outside, fancier than yours, but normal. You knew the parents of the house, they were kind and your parents would chat with them if they met on the street or the supermarket, but it was their kid the loud one.

You knocked on the door, rang the bell, knocked on the door, and on the third rang of the bell your neighbor appeared.

Jay.

“Hey.” he said cautiously. “What’s up?”

“Hi, can you stop? It’s now four am.” you said as softly as you could, without sounding rude and without saying what you really wanted to scream at him.

Tone it down, you fucker.

“Oh, shit. Sorry.” He nodded. “I apologize.”

“Good night.” you said flatly, turning your back to him and walking home quickly.

In less than five minutes people came out in a horde, with disappointed faces and stumbling. You were peeking through the window of your parent’s bedroom and smiled when the lights of the house dimmed.

Finally a peaceful two hours of sleep until your exam.

You fell asleep tired and worried, hoping you’d do well on your exam. Jay fell asleep happy and content to see you complain, after all, it was the few times he’d be able to talk to you.

The exam was hell, you forgot everything you had studied and only remembered how much you hated the noisy parties and Park Jay. You had been stressed in a way you had never been before, and that exam was something you needed to ace, if only you had slept better.

Why the hell did your teacher want four examples of what a Masterpiece literature was?! And why did you forget all the examples you had prepared? You just resigned and walked home, hungry and moody.

“I needed to do some homework but I'm just too tired.” Your friend, Mina, said through your phone. “I miss you, you know?”

“You do?” you ask popping on one elbow on your bed. “I miss you too.”

“Sometimes college is too much for me.” she confessed. “Besides, in my classes there’s not many interesting people. I miss you bickering about how much you hate your neighbors or any guy that crosses your path.”

“I can always complain still through texts.” you said jokingly. “I feel everything is a bit heavy, you know? Sometimes my classmates are just that… not attentive, like I would do, you know?"

“You are a sensitive soul, Y/nnie. Don’t let them turn that down, and we knew it would be hard for you.”

“I know.” Your eyes were covered in tears, you really needed sometimes the words of your best friend, but that was interrupted when someone rang the doorbell. “Someone rang the doorbell. I need to check the camera.

You made your way to the kitchen, where the camera of the doorbell was, and a very disheveled Jay was outside.

“What the fuck. Jay is outside.” you whispered on the phone.

“Oh my god! Go get your boyfriend.” You hung up after telling Mina you’d text her what happened and with still some tears in your eyes for missing your friend you opened the door.

You blinked fast to focus on Jay and dry the tears that were left.

“Hey, sorry for… um. How are you?” He scratched his neck nervously. You stared at him up and down with a frown. “I’m Jay."

“I know. We have been neighbors for a few years.” You said stating the obvious.

The guy knew how to dress up, you had to admit, and he was handsome too. Hair placed perfectly, he was wearing simple clothes, a shirt and some pants, but he did look put together… and handsome.

“Sorry, right.” he nodded. “I’m sorry for the noise. I apologize, it won’t happen again.”

“Really?” you crossed your arms, remembering the noise and getting mad. “Look I get it, but it was a bit extreme and loud, the fact that my walls were rumbling and it was four AM basically.”

“I know, and I apologize.” He looked genuinely sorry, and you couldn’t deny that he had a face that made you feel inclined to forgive him. “It won’t happen again.

“It’s fine. I accept your apology.” you said monotonous.

You thought of turning back and getting home, but you had no clue on how to end the conversation. A wave? A “shut up forever”? A smile?. Thank god he seemed more skilled, as he just smiled and continued.

“Are you busy right now? Can I borrow you for a few minutes?” You showed your confusion in your face and he smiled. “I invite you to a coffee. The new coffee shop that opened here. I pay.”

You looked down at your outfit, you were with your worse clothes, and you had decided to spend your afternoon inside, but a free coffee would do. The fact that you’d have to maintain a conversation with him made you feel a bit nervous, but Jay exuded a confidence that you decided you’d just follow his lead.

“Let me grab my keys.”

In less than two minutes, you had a coat on and phone in your pocket. You walked the two blocks to the new coffee shop that had opened recently. It was a family that had decided to turn it into a cozy space, with tables on the patio and the front. Jay and you settled on a small table with a big window that illuminated the whole place, next to you.

“I’ve never been here.” You admitted looking around the coffee shop.

“My mom came the other day and said it was cute.” he said looking at the menu. “But I hadn’t found the right occasion to come.”

You scanned the menu and chose a latte.

“Can you give me your Venmo details? I’ll transfer you the money.”

“No. I said I’d pay.” he said, settling down the menu and smiling at you.

The waiter came and took your orders, you both asked for the coffees and the waiter excused themselves.

“Take it as an apology for the parties.” he delicately said and smiled.

“Okay.” You nodded. But still feeling wary of him.

Your orders came in quickly, and Jay was great at turning small talk into interesting topics, the way he’d joke and talk about small things fascinated you and made you admire him a bit. Having that smoothness was something you always wished to achieve, but eventually gave up. To each their own, right? Maybe small talk, or even talking wasn’t your scene. But Jay? He was definitely smooth.

Soon you found yourself chatting freely, and you had again ordered another latte as you started to feel comfortable with him. In less than two hours this guy made you feel comfortable enough to laugh, which was something it took you weeks to achieve with normal people.

“I have seen you at the bus stop, you go to uni?” He asked, sipping his coffee and you nodded. “What do you study?”

“Literature, with a minor in marketing.” you stayed silent after answering, but realized you had an open space to keep the conversation flowing: “Do you?”

“I Do” he smiled. “I study business, no minor for me.”

“You don’t look like a business guy.” You said bluntly, but blushed, you didn’t want to make him feel uncomfortable. “Sorry, that wasn’t meant to be…”

“No worries, I know.” He laughed “What do I look like?”

“I don’t know, like a… nice boy.” you stated and he smiled. “Not that business people are mean, just— I had some classmates of that major and they were… you don’t seem like that”

“I don’t have the stuck-up attitude?” He asked. He didn’t take any offense on your comment and that made you feel warmer. Safer.

“Exactly.”

You walked home back together, he said goodbye with a small hug and you texted MIna first thing when you got to your room:

y/n: he invited me to a coffee y/n: he was nice y/n: he apologized for the noise.

mina: omg!!!!!! mina: i think he has a crush on you!

y/n: for a coffee? he was being nice

mina: omg this is huge mina: you think a MAN is nice

y/n: shut up :(

mina: never!!!! mina: i have to go to an online class mina: but remember, ii am so proud of u ynniee mina: pls remember it

The few days were slow in your life, a week had passed and your classes had been as quiet as ever, no tests, no essays to turn in, no group projects, nothing to worry about. You did take your time in the mornings, you did your make up and left for uni on time for the bus. The routine had been monotonous, so a random day you expected the same.

The cold air hit you, and you hid your face on your scarf. It was still dark outside, but with each step the darkness was vanishing and getting clearer. You sat on the bench of the bus stop, and looked at your phone to check the bus status. Five minutes until the next bus.

Quick footsteps sounded behind you. You turned around quickly, scared. Jay was running towards the bus stop.

“Hi.” He said out of breath. “Did the bus pass already?”

“Which one?” you asked. “The red one comes in five minutes.”

“Great.” he exhales and sits next to you. “I thought I had lost it.”

You waited in silence. The bus stop started to fill around you two. People dressed up for work, in their suits and kids dressed up for school in their uniforms. Jay sat still next to you. Even as the bus arrived, he sat next to you, all the time in silence, but totally comfortable.

“What’s your stop?” he looked at you.

“Seventh one. Yours?”

“Almost the last one.” he said looking outside the window. “I just stay the whole time here and look around.”

“Does it get boring?” you asked.

“Not really. I read texts for class, listen to music, and sometimes I sleep a bit. It depends on the day.” he explained and continued the conversation.

You’d ask questions and he’d answer them happily, he would ask questions and you’d answer them with a shy undertone. He did realize that you were a bit shy in conversations, but Jay did his best in acting as if he didn’t notice, he had made it his mission to make you feel as comfortable as he could. When you hopped off the bus, Jay was grinning ear to ear. He had been able to talk to you again, and you seemed each time more comfortable with him. He decided that was the best start of his day, and that he wouldn’t mind starting his days like that.

“Hey, what’s up?” you asked, walking up to Jay.

The doorbell had rang in the afternoon, you were so focused on writing your essay that it startled you. Your sibling didn’t lift a finger to open the door, so you had to pause and get down,

“I never…” he looked around, and his cheeks turned pink. “Can I get your phone number?”

“My— why?” you asked confused.

“I want to talk to you more.” he said frankly. “If you are comfortable, I mean.”

“Sure” you shrugged and grabbed his phone when he opened the contact screen. You typed in your number but left the name slot empty, he’d name you however he wanted. Maybe “y/n neighbor” or “y/n neighbor that complains”.

“Sorry if that was sudden.” he said apologetically. “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

“It’s fine.” you said smiling.

“I—”

“I—”

You both spoke at the same time, he chuckled and you smiled. You signaled him to go first.

“I should go, I have some homework to do.” Jay said looking at you with a smile. “i’ll text you, so you can save my number.”

“I will.” You smiled. “Have a good afternoon, Jay.”

The next morning, you got a text at exactly seven am.

jay: hey! did you leave home yet? jay: we can walk together to the bus stop.

The first time, he was waiting for you outside your house. Then, two weeks into his messages asking if you had left home, your parents just looked at you with curious eyes as you’d leave home with a smile, but you shrugged it off.

You tried to act cool about it, but Jay was over the moon. When he got to class his friend looked at him, grinning ear to ear. Jay was mostly stoic, so the fact that he was smiling too early on the day, his friends found it weird.

“What’s got you so happy?” Jake asked, eyeing him.

“Nothing.” Jay said getting serious suddenly and setting his things ready for class. But Jake didn’t drop it, he never did.

“Wait… is this about your neighbor?” Jake looked excited and Jay blushed a bit. “It so is!”

“Shut up.” Jay tried to end the conversation.

“Jay is in love” Jake joked and pushed Jay’s shoulders. “Man, I never thought I’d see the day.”

“You talk as if I was banging everything.” Jay sounded offended at his friend’s surprise.

“Nah, but you were Mr. Love is a waste of time.” Jake said and looked at Jay, who was trying to keep a stoic expression.

Jay did have a crush on you, he just hoped you could have a crush on him too.

Some days for you were harder than others. People were too much sometimes, too noisy, too cold, too complicated for you, and you felt too small next to them. It was something you knew how to deal with, but it became heavier everyday, especially since you didn’t have your best friend anymore to make you feel comfortable.

y/n: was a bad day:( y/n: I miss you, like a lot

Your day had started okay, the daily walk with Jay and the ride on the bus, but once you got into the classroom it went from bad to worse. The girls you hung out with at college forgot to save you a spot, when you always did that for them, so you had to sit in the back of the class. Normal, right? Those things happen. Next, at lunch time no one waited for you, and when you went to the table where they were eating, they just excused themselves, said they forgot about waiting for you and that they were too hungry to wait. Again, you let it slip, but it didn’t mean it didn’t hurt.

Small things like that happened during the day, they’d walk in front and leave you behind, they’d all disappear together and leave you there. Those things you would never do to someone, but well, college worked like that. You started to distance yourself from them, they weren’t worth it, but even in your fourth year, those things made you sad. Moments when you felt excluded made you miss Mina more.

The bus was mostly empty when you got up, and you felt a lump in your throat. You wanted to get home and be able to cry, it was stupid, but for things like that you felt so alone. You only had your family, your best friend, that was kilometers away and that was it. That was where your loved ones ended.

You had always had problems reading social things, you came to understand your brain was wired differently, small things bothered you, loud people, repeated noises, and you would overthink everything and overfeel things that for some people didn’t seem like a big deal. It was very hard to be inside your head sometimes, sometimes your own brain was too loud.

You scanned the bus quickly to see if any seats were available, and there it was one, next to a guy. You came closer, and realized it was Jay, he smiled and waved at you, patting the seat next to him.

“Hey!” he said cheerfully. “How was your day?” You tried to smile at him, but it probably looked very bad, as his face changed into a worried expression. “You okay?” he turned his body to you as best as he could on the bus seat.

You nodded weakly, but you felt the tears prick in your eyes. You didn’t want to look at him, as you knew you’d probably cry, but when one tear fell down your cheek and onto your lap, you looked at him, and out of nowhere you went and hugged him, out of nowhere.

He stroked your hair softly as his arms wrapped around you, with soothing movements on your back. You kept crying, not sobbing, so you weren’t making any noise that would make people stare, but you were too sad to even care about things anymore. Jay was warm and you needed someone at that moment. With him holding you, things for a few minutes felt easy. He was whispering sweet nothings in your ear, trying to calm you down, but not forcing you to stop crying.

When you had calmed down, you sat up straight again. Jay looked at you, fixed the hair that was stuck to your face thanks to your tears, and you thought that probably, you looked awful, all your makeup smudged and the mascara down your cheeks, you didn’t want to check a mirror, because you’d feel more embarrassed.

“It’s our stop.” he said softly, grabbing your hand. You nodded and both got off the bus.

“I’m sorry, I probably stained your shirt.” you spoke with a strained voice.

“It’s fine.”

You walked slowly, small steps as you felt drained of energy. But Jay’s hand was still holding yours, with a firm grip, steading you. He didn’t pressure you to speak, just walked home with you in silence, at your own pace.

“I had a bad day.” you confessed. “Sorry for crying on you.”

“It’s okay.” he said and you felt him looking at you. You were staring at the floor, still embarrassed. “I don’t mind. Thank you for trusting me to hold you.”

You looked up. Shocked that he saw that moment like that. He didn’t say it in a mocking tone, but so honest, soft, that it gave you chills and made you feel special.

“You’re welcome? I don’t know what to say.” You confessed and he chuckled.

“Don’t worry. Just, so you know… I’m here.”

When you got home, you took your shower and just laid in bed. You told your family you didn’t feel like eating and that you were too tired, but you just wanted to sleep. You opened your phone and went to MIna’s chat.

y/n: today was a bad day :( y/n: the girls at college just always push me aside y/n: i don’t know if its my fault tbh y/n: i really miss you y/n: i feel so pathetic sometimes, but idk y/n: we havent talked much :( y/n: i know we are basically on exam season but i miss you y/n: sorry im just sad and i get clingy y/n: have a good day Minaa ily

When Jay meant he was there for you, he indeed meant it. For the next three weeks after your breakdown, you decided to open up more with him, and he did so, too. You’d tell a bit about each other, not just your sad parts, but how you enjoyed books, and Jay would tell you how he liked to play the guitar. You’d complain about your class and he’d do the same, building a small net of knowledge of each other in your minds.

“You don’t host parties anymore?” You asked one day as you both were on the bus.

“I don’t need to, anymore.” He said. “I never enjoyed them.”

“They are too loud.” You said, agreeing with him. “When you had parties I would be very…” you paused trying to look for the words.

“Angry?”

“No, I would get dysregulated.” You confessed, feeling a bit exposed, but after all you started to become friends, right? And maybe you did like him a bit, but that was not the point. Even if not many people knew how sensible you were to some things, you wanted Jay to understand you. “I’m not saying it to make you feel bad.”

“But… how so? Dysregulated as…?” he looked confused.

“Palpitations, panic attacks, all that. It sounds extreme but for my brain sometimes small things are too big.” you confessed, suddenly feeling small. “So everytime I would wear noise cancelling headphones, or just go and ask for you to stop.”

“I… didn’t know.” he said, looking at the floor, totally still.

“It’s okay… you didn’t have to” you chuckled.

“Y/N, I am so sorry.” he looked at you with a worried expression. “I am so fucking sorry.”

“Why?” You were confused by his reaction, he looked guilty and genuinely sorry at the same time. BUt what was he sorry for? For you being “weird”? Maybe he was apologizing because you felt too much? Maybe he did think you were weird after all, maybe you shouldn’t have to talk to him.

“I… organized those parties because I realized you would come by to hush, and I would see you, and I thought it would give me a topic to chat with you, but I didn’t know they affected you.” he started explaining fast. “I did it because I wanted to see you and apologize and talk to you but I never thought… fuck, I’m an idiot.”

“Wait… you wanted to see me?” you looked at him. Jay looked genuinely apologetic and conflicted.

“I did! I do, I mean… I always thought you were very pretty, and when my parents would talk about you, I wanted to get to know you, but I didn’t know how to approach you.”

“Talking to me wasn’t an option?” You tried to joke, sensing his anguish, but not knowing how to stop it.

“It was! I mean, I am really sorry.” He held your hand in his. “I apologize.”

“You… thought I was pretty?” You asked, catching up to what he was saying. “Is this like a confession?”

“If you want it to be, it can be.” He nodded quickly. “And I still think you are very pretty, breathtakingly beautiful.”

“Don’t say nonsense.” You pushed him softly and he shook his head.

“I’m serious.”

Jay and you started to move through quiet interactions. He was more straightforward, telling you how pretty you looked, or sometimes waiting for you at the bus stop of your college so you’d ride the same bus back home. He was inserting himself into your routine step by step, and you didn’t mind it. He seemed to understand you. When things got overwhelming, he’d show up and take you for a walk around the block so you’d clear your head. Your parents invited him for dinner once and he appeared with flowers and a small pie he said he baked. So when your birthday came, you were expecting a bit to see if he’d still show up.

“Happy birthday.” he said outside your door. He had a pink bag, a bouquet of flowers and a balloon that said birthday girl.

“For me?” you asked, touched that he was doing that for you.

“I don’t see any other pretty girl whose birthday is today.” He handed you the bouquet of pink flowers and your gift. “Happy birthday, Y/N.”

“You didn’t have to.”

“Of course I did, I have to show you I am boyfriend material and you deserve the best.” He said as a matter of fact.

You blushed but tried to ignore his comment, maybe he just said boyfriend material for everyone? But that day was your birthday, you allowed yourself to think he wanted to be your boyfriend, because you’d be lying if you said your crush on him wasn’t growing bigger and bigger each day.

“I have a class today, but I will see you later?” he said looking down at you and you nodded. He bent, kissed your forehead. “See you.”

When you went inside, you gave the day to yourself. You didn’t have classes, but the rest of your family had things to do, work and school, so you were happy you’d be home alone. You laid on your bed and watched reruns of any tv show you could find on the TV.

You looked at your phone, and Mina still hadn’t written anything. She was one of the first people to congratulate you, but it was radio silence from her. You really tried not to think too much about it, but what if she had forgotten? You didn’t want to remind her that it was your birthday, but… what if she…

You had to stop those thoughts, and your parents arrived just in time to have lunch with you. They ordered your favorite food, and while you chatted and ate, your dad took out a bag out of the closet. They had hidden your gift there. You laughed as you hugged them, and they received it with a smile on their faces. You did love gifts, you couldn’t lie.

You opened it fast, and took out the box from the paper bag. It was a new laptop.

“You… didn’t have to.”

“We knew yours was old, and you were saving for a new one.” Your dad shrugged and gave you a smile.

“I brought you something too.” your sibling handed to you some books that you were eying. “I hope you like them.” They just smiled, you didn’t expect a hug or smile from them, so they just fist bumped you. Teenagers were weird but you’d take what they gave.

You were so happy to be around your family. And the afternoon just got better, you watched a movie together, but that didn’t stop you from checking your phone every few minutes. Mina hadn’t uttered a word through text.

At exactly five pm, your doll bell rang. Your sibling went up to get it, and when they opened the door the just screamed:

“Y/N, it’s for you!” you jumped out of the couch.

Probably it was Mina, could it be? She did like surprises a lot, and maybe that was the reason why she had ignored you for the past days, so you’d be shocked, so you opened the door ready to see your best friend, but she wasn’t there.

It was Jay.

“Oh, hi.” you said, trying to mask your disappointment, but you were still happy to see him. “What are you doing here?”

“I am here to take you out.” He pointed to his car.

“But I’m not even dressed up. I’m still in my pajamas.” You looked down at your outfit.

“You look perfect, but if you want, you can change and I’ll wait here.” he said.

“No, just come in.” you moved and let everyone know that Jay would stay for a while

He walked into the living room and started chatting with your parents. You went upstairs quickly to change clothes and maybe do your make up, but to be honest, you didn’t feel much excitement to wear make up. So you settled for a cute outfit that made you feel pretty, after all it was your birthday, and you deserved to feel pretty.

“I’m ready, I tried to be as fast as possible.” You announced, putting your coat on.

“Let’s go.” Jay said, smiling and getting up from the couch. Said his goodbyes to your parents, as charming as always and you both walked out of the door.

The ride to the coffee shop, where Jay was taking you, was quiet. You had your mind set on your best friend, wondering why she hadn’t called or texted you yet, but you had Jay next to you. It felt unfair to him to be focused on a problem when he was literally driving with you because he wanted to celebrate your birthday with you.

“You okay?” he asked.

“I am.” you said fast.

“You are thinking very loud.”

“It’s just, you remember my best friend, MIna?” you started explaining. He nodded. “She hasn’t said anything to me.”

“No?”

“I don’t know, the other day I asked her if she’d be home for her mom’s birthday, it’s tomorrow, so I assumed she’d probably be in town, but she said she had too much homework and wouldn’t travel” you sighed.

“Has she said something to you that made you feel weird?” He asked, following the conversation.

“That’s the thing! She hasn’t said anything.” you tried to ignore the lump in your throat, as you felt your thoughts eating you on the inside, but you took deep breaths to calm down. “I’m sorry, I’m a bummer.”

“Never.” he held your hand, and parked in front of the coffee shop.

You looked at the outside of it, and it was gorgeous. It had a lot of flower decorations around the door, and a big window that showed the inside. A few people were sitting, under the soft glow of the lamps and the creamy walls. The baristas were moving around, and it felt cozy.

Jay opened the door for you and you smiled at him. You both sat at a table at the end of the coffee shop, and started looking at the menu.

“Do you want a latte?” he looked at you smiling. You nodded. When the waiter came and took your order, Jay held your hand on top of the table as you kept staring at your phone “Hey.”

“Sorry.” You looked down, but he just brushed your knuckles with his hand.

“I get it, but… I really don’t want you to be sad and if—”

You stopped paying attention to his words when the door opened and your best friend walked in. Laughing with another girl, who you knew as her other friend, Joon. Your attitude instantly changed when you recognized her, and Jay noticed that. He looked at the door and muttered:

“Fuck.” he tightened the grip of his hand on yours. “You want to go?”

“I… yeah” you said, your eyes filling with tears. “I mean… what am I supposed to do?”

“You could go say hi to her, and maybe she has an explanation?” he said and sighs, realizing that there was not a single good side to the story. “I really don’t know, but whatever you do, I support you.”

“I’ll just go say hi, and… maybe—” you lifted your shoulders. “Then we can go?”

“Of course.” He started to get up and grab his jacket. You walked quickly, forgetting your coat. Jay took it for you, and walked behind you slowly, giving you as much space as he could.

You touched her shoulder.

“Mina, hi.” you said and her face dropped.

She knew she had lied to you by saying she wasn’t going to come to her mom’s birthday because she was too busy, and that you had caught her. She had her phone right next to her, and she always did, so you realized she was blatantly ignoring the messages you had been sending to her for the past month. You saw the discomfort on her face.

“Y/N…” she looked at her other friend, who looked as equally uncomfortable as Mina did. “This is my best friend, Joon.”

“You said you wouldn’t be in town.” you said, suddenly feeling small.

“I… yeah, I know.” she said, suddenly her features became cold.

You felt Jay’s hand around your waist, you nodded to him and he directed you towards the door. You felt his arm around your waist starting to draw soothing circles on your side, while you just stood numb.

“She didn’t just forget my birthday, she lied to me and she… Jay, is it bad that I feel replaced that she called best friend her other friend?” you said quickly as you got into the car and Jay drove. “I know people have more than one best friend, but… She always complained that the Joon girl called her spoiled, or mocked her for her money, and there she goes and hangs out with her, on my birthday!”

Jay just listened to you.

“I’m… so mad. I’m not even sad. I mean, I am so sad, but I don't know.” you sighed and let your head fall back on the seat.

“It’s okay.” He looked at you at a red light, and held your hand, you had started to fidget with them, and apparently he had picked up on that habit of yours. “I'd be hella pissed too, so you are not alone. I am even pissed and I don’t know the girl.”

You chuckled sadly.

“You wanna go home?” he asked.

“I have coupons for a drive through." you offered softly, still feeling bad that you ruined his plan.

“Save them, I pay the drive through.”

You both ate in his car, in silence. He didn’t try to make any conversation, and you didn’t feel like talking. You didn’t feel like crying either, you were angry and felt lied to. She hadn’t even texted, and you really wanted to turn off your phone.

“Thank you.” you said, turning to Jay. “Really, for tonight and for everything.”

“Always here for you, told you.”

When you got home, you did your routine, but went to Mina’s chat to see if there was ever a sign that made you understand why she acted the way she did, but the chat was mostly your messages, you were about to leave the chat, when you saw the bubble on her side appearing. Maybe she was going to apologize and wish you happy birthday, you really did hope so.

mina: to be honest i have been ignoring your messages mina: you just tire me sometimes mina: you became so clingy and its exhausting mina: you act all jealous like wth mina: i mean we can still be in touch on ig mina: and answers each other's stories but mina: don’t expect me to text you much mina: i have a lot of exams now and i dont have time for you mina: so we can still stay in contact mina: just dont expect me to answer

You stared at your phone, frozen. You felt every part of your body touching the covers of your bed, you felt how your hair prickled your neck and even how each tear followed a path that ended on your neck. You weren’t able to move, you weren’t able to breathe. You were just rereading the cold words that someone you called best friend said to you.

You just texted back:

y/n: im sorry i ever made you feel that way y/n: making you feel bad was the last thing i ever wanted to do y/n: because i really love you so much y/n: and i apologize if i made you feel bad

You closed the messages app and turned off your phone. You looked at the calendar for the next day, you had a day packed with classes, but you knew you’d stay in bed. You hid your phone in a drawer and went to sleep, crying in silence.

Was that how you just ended the friendship that made you believe you weren’t too much? The only persona that ever made you feel special said you tire her, the one person who you had gone to war for literally iced you out. You loved her so much, but you weren’t going to beg for a friendship and you weren’t going to accept, not even half of her friendship. You weren’t going to wait around for her, not after she used your insecurities against you.

You woke up to your doorbell ringing. You had no clue what time it was, you just remember someone coming into your room to ask you if you were going to class and you just lied and said that your teachers had cancelled most of your classes. The doorbell didn’t stop ringing, so you went and saw through the camera a very worried Jay.

You quickly went and opened the door.

“Hey” you said but you realized your voice sounded weak.

“What happened?” he said, holding your arms. “Did something else happen with your friend?”

You were too stunned by the doorbell that you didn’t even process why you hadn’t gone to classes, and why you suddenly felt too sad to explain what had happened to Jay. You weakly nodded and moved to the side to let him in.

“What the fuck?” he said looking shocked at your phone. “That… Sorry, I can’t say that, but—” he scooted closer. Held your hands and looked at you in the eyes. “Do you know you are nothing of the shit she tells you?”

“Am I?” you didn’t feel so sure after what she said. After the person you trusted the most told you how you were, were you supposed to not believe her?

“Of course!” he grabbed your face in his hands, softly. “I swear, she’s nuts, like she has a problem. You are perfect, and she should have felt lucky that you called her best friend. Fuck, she should feel lucky that she had you in her life.”

Your tears started to fall.

“You are perfect, Y/N. Not because she says it is true, she is just a shitty person now, and you are too good for her. Really, you are too good, too pure for this world. Hell, no one deserves to be in your presence.”

“You’re just saying things, Jay.” You tried to stop blushing, but you also tried to stop crying.

“I am not, I try to be deserving of your presence as much as I can, and she had it and wasted it. You don’t deserve people like that in your life. I’m so sorry for all of this, if I could make it better I would.”

You just went and launched on top of him, giving him a hug. Apparently that had become a habit when you were crying, but he received you with open arms and buried his head on the crook of your neck. You both laid back on the couch, and he made sure you were comfortable, while still holding you. You cried on his shoulder and he never stopped you, just kissed your head, and rubbed your back to sooth you, trying to make you feel safe. Eventually, you fell asleep on him, and he just let you stay still. Not moving an inch, and being thankful you trusted him enough to let him hold you when you were vulnerable.

Days passed and that was the last conversation you two had. You felt like you needed closure, but not having it also felt like one. You felt sad most days, except for when you walked with Jay or spent time with him, which made you fall for him more and more.

He never pushed, he never complained, he gave you your time and space, and you really appreciated him for that. You had your doubts and insecurities about if he’d leave, but you started to shut them up. And the first step was telling him how you felt.

After lunch, you went to his house and knocked. His mom opened and smiled at you.

“You look gorgeous, honey! It’s been so long!” she hugged you with a smile on her face. “Jay has been talking about you non-stop.”

“Really?” you asked amused, and a bit shy, and she nodded, happy. “I… actually wanted to see if he’s home.”

“Yes, darling.” She moved to the side and made a gesture so you’d get in. “He’s in his room. Right door on the second floor.”

You thanked her and went up the stairs without taking a look around the house. You didn’t want to seem noisy in front of Jay’s mom, but on the stairs there were some pictures of Jay as a kid and teenager, so you looked at them quickly with a smile on your face. You stood in front of his door, that was ajar. You peeked your head a bit to see if it actually was his room and his backpack on the floor confirmed that.

You still softly knocked on the door.

“Come in!” he screamed.

“Hi.” you said fully opening the door. He stood up so fast that you laughed at his shocked reaction. “Sorry for coming without telling you.”

“No! I mean… don’t apologize.” he said, coming up to kiss you on the cheek. “But… what are you doing here?”

“I wanted to tell you something.” He nodded and grabbed your hand so you’d sit on his bed with him. “I…” you looked at him with hope in your eyes, he still was holding your hand, and you really hope you didn’t mis-read his signs “I really like you, and I wanted you to know.”

He stood frozen, his eyes fixed on you and his mouth hanging open. Maybe you had misread everything.

“If you don’t like me, it’s fine. I just really wanted you to know.”

“Not like you? Are you out of your mind?” He placed some hair behind your ear. “I’m head over heels for you, Y/N.”

“Really?” He nodded, smiling.

“Of course I am, I tried to be as obvious as possible, but I didn’t want to push you. I wanted you to realize on your own your feelings, even if they weren’t the same as mine, but I really like you.”

“You do?”

“Yes, of course.” He hugged me tightly. “God, I am so happy, I could kiss you.” He froze and moved back from the hug, but not moving his arms that still stayed around you. “I mean, I don’t… I do want to but if you don’t… I am okay.”

You chuckled and grabbed his face, placed a small peck on his lips and he smiled. He went and kissed you deeper making you fall backwards on the bed, laughing. When you both separated to breathe, he started kissing you loudly, your cheeks, your eyes and your forehead tickling you.

“Be my girlfriend, please.” He said. “I’ll beg if I have to.”

You laughed and nodded.

“Yes, I will.” you answered and he grabbed you and turned you around so you’d stay on top of him. “Jay!”

“I’m so happy I could kiss you.” He said again. “And as your boyfriend, I can kiss you whenever I want.” he said and kissed you again, softly.

When you were in your last class of the day, a classmate you had gotten closer to, Anna, sat next to you while you both took notes. Waiting for the class to end, both of you were sharing a package of cookies that was almost empty. For when the teacher dismissed all of you, the cookies disappeared and you both stood up saving your stuff in your bags.

“I have to go to my next class, are you heading home?” Anna asked you, walking together towards the door of the class. You nodded, smiling. “Gosh, you’re so lucky.”

“Have a good class.” You waved at her and went your separate ways.

You placed your scarf around your neck as you saw someone coming towards you quickly and grabbing you. You looked at them scared and hit their arm, after recognizing them.

“You scared me. How are you here?” you said smiling and hugging him.

“Can’t a guy surprise his beautiful girlfriend?” he said, holding your hand and grabbing your bag. “Your university is big, so I had to ask people how to get to your faculty.”

“I know, but you get used to it.” You smiled at him. “You really came? Why?”

“No reason, I wanted to see you and pick you up.” he stopped to give you a quick peck on the lips.

“But…”

“Accept my love and devotion for you, okay?” he kissed your cheek and you blushed. “Are you blushing?”

“Shut up.” You looked to the ground, avoiding his gaze

“Months together and you still blush even when—”

“Shut up.” You hit his arm softly and he laughs.

“Let’s go home?” he suggested, now hugging you by the waist, pulling you closer, even while walking. You nodded, you really wanted to sleep "Can I stay at yours?”

“You literally live next door.”

“You always say that but end up agreeing.” he kissed your cheek and you both walked out of the building into the cold air. Together.

you hadn't shouted back. you never did. you’d just stood there, the plastic bag of food crinkling in your hand, your eyes glassy. you’d apologized—god, why did you apologize?—and turned around.

ten minutes later, the rain had started. twenty minutes later, his phone had buzzed with a call from an unknown number. thirty minutes later, the world had ended.

chan stood up abruptly, his legs feeling like lead. he walked into the kitchen, his eyes landing on the counter where your keys usually sat. they weren't there. they were in an evidence bag at a police station, probably scratched or bent from the impact.

he reached for a glass of water, but his hand shook so violently that he had to set it back down. he looked at the clock. 3:00 am. this was usually the time you’d text him to see if he was heading back, or if he needed a ride. he pulled his phone out of his pocket, his thumb hovering over your name in his contacts.

1 unread message.

he hadn't opened it. he couldn't. it was sent at 11:42 pm, exactly three minutes before the timestamp on the police report. his heart hammered against his ribs, a frantic, painful rhythm. he finally tapped the notification.

i'm sorry for bothering you, channie. i left the food on the table. please eat it when you get a chance. i love you so much. drive safe if you come home later.

chan let out a sound that wasn't a sob—it was more like he’d been punched in the gut and all the air had been forced out of him at once. he sank to the floor, his back sliding against the cold refrigerator.

"i'm sorry," he whispered into the empty kitchen. "i'm so sorry."

the members had tried to come over. changbin had stayed for four hours yesterday, just sitting on the sofa in silence because chan wouldn't speak. minho had brought over a bag of groceries, wordlessly stocking the fridge before leaving with a heavy hand on chan’s shoulder. they wanted to help him carry the weight, but they didn't understand that he deserved to be crushed by it.

if he hadn't been so cruel, you would have stayed. you would have sat on the studio couch and fallen asleep under a blanket while he worked. you wouldn't have been on that bridge. you wouldn't have been in the path of a driver who couldn't see through the torrential rain.

every decision he’d made that night had led to you being gone.

he stood up and walked toward the hallway, his feet dragging. he opened the door to your shared bedroom, the scent of your perfume still clinging to the pillows. it was a soft, floral scent that usually made him feel like he could finally breathe. now, it felt like it was choking him.

he saw your favorite oversized hoodie draped over the back of a chair. he picked it up, burying his face in the soft fabric. he expected to feel a sense of closeness, but all he felt was the stinging reality of your absence. the hoodie was cold.

he went to his desk in the corner of the room, the one he rarely used because he was always at the studio. sitting there was a small stack of mail he’d ignored for days. on top was a postcard you’d bought a week ago, something you were planning to send to your parents.

chan is working so hard, you’d written in your neat, looping script. i'm so proud of him. i hope we can all grab dinner when he’s less busy.

"less busy," he choked out, a bitter laugh escaping him.

he was free now. the comeback was delayed. the schedule was cleared. he had all the time in the world, and none of it mattered. he realized then that he’d spent so much time protecting his time with you, guarding his work, and being the leader that he’d forgotten how to just be your person.

and now, he’d never get the chance to learn again.

the sun started to peek through the blinds, casting long, pale strips of light across the floor. it was a new day, which felt like an insult. how was the sun still rising? how was the world still turning when you weren't in it?

he walked back to the kitchen and saw the container of food you’d left. he hadn't touched it. he opened the lid, the smell of braised short ribs—his favorite—wafting up. you must have spent hours on it.

he took a bite, but he couldn't taste anything. it felt like ash in his mouth. he forced himself to swallow, tears finally spilling over and dripping into the container. he ate the whole thing, shivering in the quiet apartment, every bite a penance, every swallow a reminder of what he’d thrown away for the sake of a song that he now hated with every fiber of his being.

he looked at his reflection in the dark screen of his laptop. he looked like a ghost. his eyes were bloodshot, his skin sallow. he looked exactly how he felt: hollowed out.

he reached for a notepad and a pen. his hands were still shaking, but he pressed the tip to the paper. he didn't know who he was writing to—maybe to you, maybe to the void, maybe to the version of himself that had been so arrogant as to think he had forever.

i’ll never forgive myself, he wrote. the ink bled into the paper where a tear hit it. i spent so much time trying to be everything for everyone else that i broke the only thing that actually mattered. you were my home, and i locked the door on you.

he folded the paper and tucked it into the pocket of your hoodie. he stayed there on the floor long after the sun had fully risen, a leader with no one to lead, a producer with no music left in him, just a man sitting in the wreckage of a life he’d accidentally destroyed with one tired, sharp word.

LEE KNOW

it was the silence that felt like a physical blow. lee minho was a man who understood the nuances of noise—the rhythmic thud of a heavy bass line in a practice room, the demanding meows of three cats, the sharp, teasing banter that had been the foundation of your relationship for years. but this silence was different.

it was a vacuum, sucking the air out of his lungs until his chest ached with the effort of breathing.

he was sitting on the floor of his living room, exactly where he had been three days ago when the two of you had had the fight. the remnants of it were still there, mocking him. a knocked-over stack of dance magazines, a half-empty bottle of water, and the heavy, invisible wall he’d built in the heat of the moment.

he’d been exhausted—beyond the point of rational thought. the choreo for the new title track wasn't clicking, his legs were aching, and when you’d shown up at the dorm with a gentle reminder that he’d missed your anniversary dinner, he’d turned into someone he didn't recognize.

"i'm trying to actually build a career here," he’d snapped, his voice a cold, jagged blade. "i don't have time to worry about a calendar every five minutes. if you’re so lonely, go find someone who doesn't have anything better to do than eat overpriced pasta."

he remembered the way you’d recoiled, as if he’d physically struck you. he remembered the way your lip had trembled for a fraction of a second before you’d pulled your mask of composure back on, like you were trying to make the hurt smaller.

you hadn't yelled. you hadn't even said anything. you’d just set your keys on the counter, looked at him with a hollow kind of disappointment, and walked out into the rain.

"go then!" he’d yelled after you, driven by a toxic mix of pride and fatigue. "don't come back until you realize the world doesn't revolve around your dinner plans!"

and you hadn't.

minho stared at his phone, the screen cracked from when he’d thrown it against the wall after the police officer had left his apartment. he’d been staring at the last text he’d sent you, sent only ten minutes after you’d left, when his heart had finally caught up with his mouth.

i’m an idiot. i’m sorry. come back and i’ll make you the stupid pasta myself.

it was marked as delivered. it would never be read.

a soft weight pressed against his side. soonie bumped his head against minho’s arm, letting out a small, questioning meow. the cat knew. animals always knew when the person who smelled like home was missing. minho reached out, his fingers trembling as he stroked soonie’s ears, but the comfort he usually found in his cats was gone. he felt like a fraud.

how could he take care of them when he’d failed so spectacularly at taking care of you?

he stood up, his joints popping, and walked toward the kitchen. he saw your favorite mug sitting in the sink, a ring of dried coffee at the bottom. he couldn't bring himself to wash it. if he washed it, the last physical evidence of your morning together would be rinsed away, down the drain and into the dark.

he leaned against the counter, his eyes burning. minho didn't cry easily. he was the one who kept his emotions tucked away in neat, categorized boxes. but the box labeled you had burst open, and the contents were suffocating him.

he found himself walking toward the hallway closet. he pulled out your heavy winter coat, the one you’d forgotten because you’d been in such a rush to leave his anger behind. he buried his face in the faux-fur collar, inhaling deeply.

it still smelled like your shampoo—something bright and vanilla—and for a split second, his brain tricked him into thinking you were just in the other room.

"i didn't mean it," he choked out, the words muffled by the fabric. "i didn't mean any of it."

he thought about the "what ifs" until his head throbbed. what if he’d just taken a nap before you arrived? what if he’d just said happy anniversary instead of complaining about the choreo? what if he’d run after you the moment the door clicked shut?

the police told him the driver hadn't seen you through the sheets of rain. they told him it was instantaneous, that you didn't suffer. they meant it to be a kindness, but to minho, it was a horror.

he had been the last thing you’d seen—not a sunset, not a smiling face, but his sneering expression and the sound of his cruel voice.

he wandered back into the living room and saw your keys still sitting on the counter. he picked them up, the metal cold against his palm. dangling from the ring was a small, worn-out keychain he’d given you as a joke a year ago. it was a cat with a grumpy face that you’d insisted looked exactly like him when he woke up.

he gripped the keys so hard the edges bit into his skin. he deserved the pain. he deserved the silence. he deserved the way the apartment felt like a tomb.

minho sat back down on the floor, the darkness of the evening beginning to swallow the room. he didn't turn on the lights. he didn't deserve the light. he just sat there with soonie, doongie, and dori hovering nearby, a man who had spent his whole life learning how to move his body with perfect precision, only to realize he’d stepped on the only thing that had ever truly anchored him.

he closed his eyes, and in the quiet, he could almost hear your laugh—the way it used to cut through his moods like a flashlight in a dark basement. it was the most beautiful sound he’d ever known, and he was the one who had silenced it.

"i'll find you," he whispered into the empty air, a promise that felt more like a plea. "next time, i'll find you and i won't let go. i'll never let go."

but for now, there was only the rain against the window and the crushing, eternal weight of the things he had left unsaid.

CHANGBIN

the gym was empty, the fluorescent lights humming with a clinical, biting edge that made the space feel more like a cage than a sanctuary. changbin was staring at a heavy barbell, the iron plates stacked high, but he couldn't bring himself to reach for it.

his hands were shaking. it wasn't the kind of tremor that came from a heavy set of reps; it was the kind that came when your world had collapsed and you were trying to hold up the ceiling with nothing but your bare skin.

it had started with something so stupid. a misunderstanding about a schedule, a missed call, and a week of built-up pressure that he’d decided to unload on the one person who didn't deserve it.

"you're always just there," he’d groaned, his voice dripping with a frustration he didn't actually feel toward you. "don't you have anything else to do? i'm trying to focus on my life, on the group, and i feel like i have to constantly check in with you like i’m reporting to a boss. it’s exhausting."

the silence that followed had been sharp. he’d watched you slowly set down the bag of laundry you’d brought over—his laundry, that you’d picked up because you knew he was too busy to do it.

you hadn't looked angry. you had just looked tired. a deep, bone-weary kind of tired that he’d been too blind to see.

"i'm sorry i'm such a burden, binnie," you’d said softly. "i'll let you get back to your focus."

you’d walked out of the dorm, and he’d let you. he’d actually sat back down on the sofa and felt a twisted sense of "victory" for finally getting some space. he’d waited an hour, then two, his pride slowly dissolving into a hollow ache.

he’d finally picked up his phone to text you a half-hearted apology, but the screen was already flooded with news alerts.

major accident on the highway. flash floods. multiple casualties.

now, changbin sat on a weight bench, his head in his hands. the smell of iron and sweat—usually the things that made him feel powerful—now made him feel nauseous. he looked at his reflection in the wall-to-wall mirrors. he looked strong. he looked like the powerhouse everyone expected him to be.

but inside, he felt like a house of cards in a hurricane.

he’d spent his whole life building himself up, making himself sturdy so he could be a shield for the people he loved. but what was the point of a shield if you used it to crush the person you were supposed to protect?

he reached into his gym bag and pulled out a small, crumpled receipt he’d found in his pocket earlier. it was for a pair of high-end running shoes you’d bought him two weeks ago because you noticed he was complaining about his arches. you’d spent your own savings on them, joking that you were "investing in his gains."

he’d never even thanked you properly.

"i'm so small," he whispered, his voice cracking in the vastness of the gym. "i'm so pathetic."

he finally stood up, but instead of lifting, he walked over to the corner where he kept his personal locker. inside sat a small, handwritten note you’d tucked into his gym bag months ago: don't overdo it today. your muscles need rest, and i need you in one piece. love you!

he pressed the paper to his lips, his shoulders finally heaving. the tears came then—not the quiet, dignified kind, but a violent, racking sob that tore through his chest. he collapsed back onto the bench, the note clutched in his fist like a lifeline.

he thought about the way you used to wait for him at the door, the way you’d always have a protein shake ready, the way you’d listen to his rough demos and tell him his verses were the heart of the song.

you were the only person who saw seo changbin—not the rapper, not the idol, not the bodybuilder, but the man who was often scared he wasn't enough.

and he had told you that was exhausting. he had told you that you were exhausting.

the guilt was a physical weight, heavier than any plate in the room. it was sitting on his chest, squeezing the air out of him. he realized with a terrifying clarity that he would never be able to out-work this pain. he couldn't sweat it out. he couldn't lift it away.

it was a part of him now, a permanent shadow in his peripheral vision.

he stayed in the gym until the sun started to bleed through the high windows, turning the iron plates into silhouettes. he didn't want to go home. home was where your shoes were still by the door. home was where the laundry you’d dropped off was still sitting on the floor, a monument to his own cruelty.

he finally gathered his things, his movements slow and robotic. as he walked toward the exit, his eyes caught the "maximum capacity" sign on the wall.

"i'm at capacity," he muttered, a bitter, broken laugh escaping him.

he walked out into the cool morning air, the city beginning to wake up around him. people were starting their days, coffee cups in hand, oblivious to the fact that the world was missing its brightest light. changbin pulled his hoodie over his head, hiding his face, and began the long walk back to an apartment that was no longer a home.

he didn't know how to move forward. he didn't know how to be himself anymore. how to exist without you.

but as he walked, he kept his hand in his pocket, his fingers tracing the edges of your note. it was the only thing he had left that wasn't heavy.

HYUNJIN

the studio apartment was bathed in a cruel, mocking gold as the sun dipped below the horizon. it was the kind of light hyunjin usually lived for—the perfect golden hour that he would spend hours trying to replicate with tubes of ochre and zinc white.

but now, the light just felt like an intruder. it crept across the floor, illuminating the dust motes dancing in the air and the half-finished sketch still sitting on the easel in the corner.

hyunjin was sitting on the floor, his back against the cold brick wall. his long hair was a tangled mess, falling over his eyes, but he didn't have the energy to push it back. his hands, usually so expressive and nimble, were stained dark with charcoal and dried ink, looking bruised in the twilight.

he couldn't stop looking at the door.

it was the last place he’d seen you. he could still hear the sharp, echoing thud of it closing—a sound that had felt like a period at the end of a sentence he wasn't ready to finish.

they had been working on a new performance, and hyunjin had pushed himself past the breaking point. his muscles were screaming, his mind was a frayed wire, and when you had shown up at the practice room with a gentle suggestion that he was overworking himself, he had lashed out.

it wasn't even about you. it was about the fear of not being perfect, the crushing weight of expectation. but you were the one standing there, and you were the one who caught the edge of his tongue.

"you don't get it," he’d hissed, his voice cold and unfamiliar. "you just sit there and watch. you don't understand the pressure. you’re just annoying me right now. if you’re so worried about my health, go worry about it somewhere else. i don't need you hovering over me like i’m some child."

he remembered the way you’d gone still. the way your eyes, usually so full of warmth and soft encouragement, had shuttered. you hadn't even argued. you’d just nodded once, picked up your bag, and left.

"i'm sorry," you’d whispered. "i won't distract you anymore."

two hours later, the manager had walked into the studio, his face pale, his hands shaking as he held his phone.

now, hyunjin reached out and touched the canvas in front of him. it was a portrait of you he’d started weeks ago. he’d wanted to surprise you for your anniversary. he’d captured the way the light hit the bridge of your nose, the specific curve of your smile that only came out when you were laughing at one of his jokes.

but it was unfinished. your eyes were still just empty outlines, waiting for the depth and color he’d promised to add.

he’d never add it. he couldn't. every time he picked up a brush, he felt like he was suffocating.

"i'm sorry," he whispered, the words sounding thin and pathetic in the empty room. "i'm so sorry, i didn't mean it. i was just tired. please, just come back and tell me i’m an idiot."

he stood up unsteadily and walked to the small table by the window. your coffee mug was still there, half-full of cold, stagnant liquid. beside it sat a small scrap of paper where you’d doodled a little ferret while waiting for him to finish a painting session.

he picked up the paper, his fingers tracing the shaky lines. you weren't an artist, but you always tried for him. you’d draw little things to make him smile, to remind him that life existed outside of the lines and the shades.

he collapsed into the chair, clutching the scrap of paper to his chest. the grief wasn't a sharp pain anymore; it was a dull, constant ache, like a bone that had set wrong.

it was the realization that he had spent his whole life trying to create beauty, trying to capture the essence of the world on a flat surface, while the most beautiful thing he’d ever known had been right beside him, and he’d thrown it away because he was tired.

he looked at his paints. the reds looked too much like the sirens he’d seen in his nightmares. the blues were too cold, like the rain that had been falling that night.

hyunjin grabbed a tube of black paint and a palette knife. in a sudden, violent burst of movement, he smeared the dark pigment over the unfinished portrait. he covered your smile, your hair, the bridge of your nose. he couldn't bear to look at the ghost of what he’d destroyed.

when the canvas was nothing but a void of wet, glistening black, he dropped the knife. it hit the hardwood with a hollow metallic sound.

he sank back onto the floor, the shadows of the room finally swallowing him whole. he’d always been a man of colors, of light, of vibrant expression. but as he sat there in the dark, hyunjin realized he had finally painted his masterpiece. it was a perfect representation of his heart: empty, dark, and utterly silent.

he closed his eyes, praying for a dream where the door would open again, and you’d tell him that the light was perfect for a sketch. but the only thing that met him was the silence, and the knowledge that he was finally alone with his art.

HAN

the noise in the studio was usually a comfort to han jisung—a messy, chaotic layer of synth pads, vocal chops, and the frantic clicking of a mouse. but tonight, the silence was screaming. it was a high-pitched, ringing void that seemed to radiate from the empty swivel chair in the corner of the room.

jisung sat at his desk, his hands hovering over the keyboard, but he couldn't remember a single chord. his brain felt like it had been short-circuited. every time he closed his eyes, he saw the same frame: the harsh, fluorescent light of the hallway reflecting in your eyes as you looked at him with a mixture of shock and pure, unadulterated hurt.

it had been such a small thing. he’d been struggling with a bridge for seven hours, the melody slipping through his fingers like sand. when you’d pushed the door open, balancing a tray of iced coffee and your own laptop, he hadn't seen his best friend. he hadn't seen the love of his life, his everything.

he’d seen another distraction.

"can you just—for once—not be in here?" he’d snapped, the words coming out louder and sharper than he’d intended. "i have actual work to do. i can't be your emotional support animal twenty-four-seven. just go. find someone else to cling to for a night."

you hadn't snapped back. you were used to his moods, his high-strung anxiety, his "genius" tantrums. but this had been different. he’d targeted the one thing you were always self-conscious about: your fear of being a burden.

you’d stood there for a long beat, the ice in the coffee cups rattling against the plastic. "okay, hanji," you’d whispered, blinking tears back, your voice so small it barely carried over the hum of the cooling fans. "i'll go."

you’d turned on your heel and disappeared. and jisung, fueled by a toxic surge of adrenaline and a desperate need to finish the track, had turned back to his monitors. he’d worked for another three hours, convinced himself the song was a masterpiece, and finally reached for his phone to send you a meme as a peace offering.

the notifications were already there.

the police report mentioned the rain-slicked pavement and a driver who hadn't seen the pedestrian in the crosswalk. it mentioned the time: 11:14 p.m.

jisung had sent his stupid meme at 11:16 p.m.

now, he grabbed the edges of his desk, his knuckles turning white. he felt like he was drowning in the air of his own studio. he stood up, his legs shaking, and walked over to the corner chair. on the floor beside it was a small, crumpled-up piece of paper. he picked it up, his breath catching in his throat.

it was a doodle. a little quokka with oversized headphones, holding a heart. you’d probably drawn it while waiting for him to finish his previous session, waiting to show it to him when he finally took a break.

"i'm so sorry," he choked out, the sound echoing off the soundproof foam on the walls. "i'm so sorry, angel. i didn't mean it. i love you. i love you clinging to me. i need you to cling to me."

he sank to his knees, burying his face in the seat of the chair where you always sat. it still smelled like your laundry detergent—something soft and clean. he grabbed the fabric, bunching it in his fists, and finally, the dam broke. jisung was a loud person—he laughed loud, he talked loud, he rapped with a piercing intensity—but his grief was a quiet, jagged thing.

it was a series of broken gasps and muffled sobs that felt like they were tearing his lungs apart.

he thought about all the lyrics he’d written about love, about loss, about the "one that got away." they all felt like a joke now. they were just words, shallow and meaningless compared to the crushing reality of your absence.

he realized he’d spent so much time trying to capture the perfect emotion on a track that he’d failed to protect the real emotion standing right in front of him.

he reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. he scrolled through your messages, his thumb trembling over the screen. your last text to him was from that afternoon: don't forget to eat, sunshine. i'm bringing coffee later. see you soon!

"sunshine," he whispered, a bitter, agonizing sob escaping him. "you called me sunshine."

he looked at his monitors—the glowing bars of the song that had cost him everything. he reached out and hit the delete key. then he hit confirm.

he watched as the project file, the work of ten hours, the work he’d prioritized over your life, vanished into nothing. it didn't make him feel better. it didn't bring you back. but it was the only thing he had left to sacrifice.

the sun began to creep through the small window of the studio, a pale, grey light that didn't feel like morning. it felt like the end of the world. jisung stayed on the floor, curled into a ball next to your empty chair, the little quokka drawing pressed against his heart.

he was a songwriter, a storyteller, a man who always had a witty comeback or a clever rhyme. but as the world woke up without you, han jisung found he had finally run out of things to say. the only thing left was the silence, and the ghost of a girl who had once called him her sunshine.

FELIX

the apartment still smelled like the apology brownies he’d pulled out of the oven only an hour before the phone rang. it was a sweet, heavy scent—the kind of smell that usually made felix feel like he was wrapped in a warm blanket. now, it made him want to claw his own throat out.

he was standing in the middle of the kitchen, his hands still dusted with a fine layer of powdered sugar. the bright blue mixing bowl was sitting in the sink, half-filled with soapy water. everything was so incredibly normal, so horrifyingly domestic, that it felt like a sick joke.

it had been his fault. he knew it with a certainty that felt like lead in his veins.

they had been fighting over something so small it didn't even have a name. he’d been coming home later and later, his body aching from the physical toll of a world tour, his mind frayed by the constant need to be "on." when you’d gently suggested he take a break—just one night to be lee felix instead of stray kids' felix—he’d snapped.

"you think it's that easy?" he’d rasped, his voice dropping into that deep, jagged register he only used when he was truly hurt. "you think i can just turn it off? you have no idea what i do for this. you’re just sitting here in this perfect little bubble i built for us, judging me. if you hate how much i work so much, then why are you even here?"

the look on your face had haunted him for the forty-five minutes you’d been gone. it wasn't anger; it was the look of someone who had just realized the person they loved most in the world thought they were a burden.

you hadn't even grabbed a proper coat, just your keys and your shoes, walking out into the freezing slush of a seoul february.

"i'll leave you to your work then," you’d said. as much as you tried to hide it, your tears had slipped down your cheeks. that was the worst part. like you had been trying to hide yourself from him.

the phone call from the hospital had been short. precise. the kind of words that didn't leave room for hope. a patch of black ice, a driver who couldn't stop in time, and a girl who had no business being out in a storm without a coat.

felix felt the first wave hit him then. it wasn't grief—not yet. it was a physical rejection from his own body. he stumbled toward the small bathroom off the hallway, his knees hitting the tile with a bone-jarring thud. he barely made it to the toilet before he was retching, his stomach turning itself inside out.

he puked until there was nothing left but bitter bile and the lingering, nauseating taste of the chocolate he’d sampled earlier. he stayed there on the floor, his forehead pressed against the cold porcelain, shivering so hard his teeth clattered. his blonde hair, which he’d spent so much time styling for your date night at home, was damp with sweat and stuck to his temples.

"please," he gasped into the empty, tiled room. "please, not her. anyone but her. take me. it was me. i said it. please."

he crawled back into the hallway, his movements slow and agonizing. he reached the coat rack and saw your spare scarf hanging there—the soft, pink one with the loose threads at the end. he pulled it down, wrapping it around his hand, pressing it to his face.

it still smelled like the perfume he’d bought you for christmas.

he thought about your hands. he thought about how they were always warm, even when his were like ice. he thought about how you used to trace the freckles on his cheeks like they were stars in a constellation only you could see.

and he thought about how those hands were now cold, sitting in a room with white sheets and bright lights, because he couldn’t keep his mouth shut.

the sunshine of the group.

that’s what everyone called him. he was the one who brought the light, the one who gave the hugs, the one who made sure everyone else was okay. but as he sat on the floor of his dark hallway, felix realized the sun had finally gone out. he had extinguished it himself.

he looked toward the kitchen, where the brownies were still sitting on the cooling rack. they looked perfect. they looked like a "sorry" that would never be heard.

he let out a sound—a high, broken keen that didn't sound like a human voice at all. it was the sound of a boy who had finally realized that all the brownies and heart-shaped notes and grand gestures in the world couldn't fix a broken soul.

he’d wanted to give you the world, but instead, he’d given you the street on a rainy night.

he curled into a ball on the floor, the scarf clutched so tight his fingers went numb. he didn't want to get up. he didn't want to go to the hospital to identify a body that used to be his home. he just wanted to stay here in the dark, in the smell of chocolate and the cold, until the world forgot he ever existed.

"i'm sorry, angel," he whispered, his voice a ghost of itself. "i'm so, so sorry."

the clock on the wall ticked—a rhythmic, heartless sound that reminded him he was still alive, and you weren't. and for lee felix, that was the greatest punishment of all.

SEUNGMIN

the air in seungmin’s apartment was stagnant, heavy with the scent of unwashed coffee mugs and the faint, lingering smell of your favorite citrus perfume. he was sitting at his small dining table, the one where you’d spent countless nights helping him memorize lyrics or just arguing over which convenience store had the best spicy ramen.

in front of him was a notebook, open to a blank page. his pen was held loosely in his hand, the tip resting on the paper until a small, dark blot of ink began to spread, staining the wood beneath. seungmin was known for his precision—for the way he hit every note with surgical accuracy and the way his life was organized into neat, predictable rows.

but precision didn't help when the world stopped making sense.

he’d been the one to start the fight. it was a stupid, prideful thing about timing and careers. he’d been stressed, his voice feeling strained after a long recording session, and when you’d suggested he take a day off to rest, he’d turned that sharp, observational wit of his into a weapon.

"you’re so focused on the now, but i’m trying to build something that lasts," he’d said, his voice quiet but biting. "you don't get it because you don't have to be perfect for anyone. i do. so just stop acting like you know what's best for me. it’s annoying."

he remembered the way you’d blinked, the hurt flashing behind your eyes before you’d masked it with that careful, yet kind, expression you only used when he was being particularly difficult.

"i'm sorry for being annoying, seungmin," you'd said, eyes wet. you hadn't slammed the door. you’d closed it softly, with the same gentleness you’d always shown him.

that was four days ago.

the call had come from the hospital later that night. a driver had run a red light. a pedestrian in the crosswalk. no time to react.

seungmin finally dropped the pen. it clattered against the table, the sound echoing too loudly in the silence. he stood up, his movements stiff, and walked into the kitchen. on the counter sat a small box of herbal tea you’d bought for him because you were worried about his throat.

he hadn't even opened it yet.

he reached out, his fingers tracing the plastic wrap. he’d spent his whole life being the anchor, the one who stayed grounded while everyone else drifted. but without you, there was no ground left to stand on.

he walked toward the window, looking down at the street below. the city was still moving, people were still laughing, and the cars were still rushing through the intersection where everything had ended. it felt like a betrayal.

how could the world be so loud when you were so quiet?

"you didn't deserve that. you're too kind to me. too good," he whispered, his forehead pressing against the cold glass. "too good for me."

he went to his closet and pulled out a hoodie—one you used to steal all the time because it was too big for you. he buried his face in the fabric, desperate for a hint of you, but the scent was fading, replaced by the sterile smell of his own life.

he thought about all the times he’d teased you for your "poor life choices," all the times he’d played the role of the cynical boyfriend while secretly counting down the seconds until he could see you again. he’d been so busy being the person who knew everything that he’d forgotten to be the person who said anything.

he couldn't remember the last time that he told you he loved you. it hadn't been on the last day he'd seen your face. but what about before that?

he tried to retrace the weeks, digging through the mundane conversations about groceries or the weather, looking for the words. it felt like they had just slipped into the background, something assumed rather than said.

maybe he’d muttered it while you were half-asleep, or maybe he’d just thought it so loudly he convinced himself he’d actually spoken it aloud. now, the silence of the room just made the lack of it feel heavy, like a debt he’d forgotten to pay until it was too late to settle up.

what if you'd died doubting that he had? that he did love you?

seungmin sank to the floor, his back against the bed, pulling his knees to his chest. he wasn't a messy person, but his grief was a disaster. it was a jagged, unpolished thing that didn't fit into a four-four time signature.

he closed his eyes and tried to remember the sound of your laugh, but all he could hear was the click of the door closing and the sound of his own cold voice telling you to go.

"i'm an idiot, pup," he choked out, the nickname feeling like a physical weight in his throat. "i'm just an idiot."

he stayed there until the room went dark, the only light coming from the streetlamps outside. he was waiting for the buzzing of his phone, for a message asking for an sos, for a rescue flare that would never come.

the most observant man in the room had missed the only thing that mattered, and now, seungmin was finally left with a silence he couldn't fix.

I.N.

the cold on the rooftop was the only thing that felt honest anymore. it was a sharp, biting wind that cut through the layers of jeongin’s coat, stinging his cheeks and numbing the tips of his fingers. he stood near the edge, his chest heaving as he tried to catch a single, clean breath of air.

but the oxygen felt thin, like it was being filtered through a thick layer of ash.

it had been two weeks since the news. two weeks since you walked out of his apartment, teary-eyed and hurt, because of him. because of his cruelty.

and jeongin felt as though he had been submerged underwater the entire time. the world was a blur of muffled voices, bright stage lights that felt like needles in his eyes, and a relentless, crushing pressure in his lungs.

he didn't think he would ever breathe properly again. the simple act of inhaling felt like a betrayal. how could he fill his lungs when yours had stopped?

he leaned his weight against the cold metal railing, his head dropping into his hands. his body felt heavy, a shell of the person he used to be. every muscle ached with the fatigue of trying to pretend he wasn't hollow.

tucked between his shaking fingers was a small, faded slip of paper—a ticket stub from the very first date the two of you had gone on. it was a movie he hadn't even liked, a poorly paced thriller that you’d spent the entire time whispering critiques about into his ear.

he had kept it in the secret compartment of his wallet, a lucky charm he’d pull out whenever the pressure of being an idol felt like it was too much to carry. it was his anchor. it was proof that he was loved by someone who didn't care about his stage name.

for a split second, the wind whistled through the vents of the building, and jeongin’s heart stopped. it sounded like a hum—the specific, soft melody you used to absentmindedly whistle when you were focused on a task.

"angel?" he breathed, his head snapping up from his hands.

his eyes darted frantically across the rooftop, his pulse racing with a sudden, agonizing burst of hope. for one beautiful, terrifying moment, he expected to see you leaning against the doorway, your hair windswept and a teasing smile on your face, telling him he was being dramatic.

but the roof was empty. the hope died as quickly as it had flared, leaving behind a coldness that was even deeper than before.

he looked down, his gaze drifting toward the street below. across the road, a girl was walking, her laughter carried upward by the wind. she was glowing under the streetlamps, her hand firmly interlaced with a boy’s as they swung their arms between them.

they were young—his age—and happy, and entirely oblivious to the fact that a world had ended just a few stories above them.

in the distraction of the moment, jeongin’s grip on the ticket stub loosened. a stray, aggressive gust of wind caught the corner of the paper, snatching it from his numbed fingertips.

the ticket stub fluttered out of his hand, caught by a stray gust of wind, and he watched as it danced over the edge of the railing, disappearing into the dark abyss of the city below.

"no," he gasped, his body lunging forward, his hands grasping at the empty air where the paper had been a second before. "no, please. wait!"

he gripped the railing so hard the metal dug into his palms, his eyes scanning the darkness for a flash of white. but the street was a sea of moving lights and shadows, and the ticket—the last tangible piece of that first night—was gone.

it wasn't just the ticket. it was the realization that he couldn't hold onto any of it. not the smell of your hair, not the sound of your voice, not the way you looked when you were laughing at his terrible jokes.

it was all leaking away, dissolving into memory, and he was powerless to stop it. soon, he feared, even the memories would start to fray at the edges, and he would be left with nothing but the shape of a person he used to love.

the first sob broke out of him like a physical wound. it was a jagged, raw sound that tore through the quiet of the night. he collapsed onto his knees, his forehead pressing against the cold concrete of the roof. sobs racked his thin frame, violent and unforgiving, shaking him until his vision blurred with tears.

he felt so small. he was supposed to be the one who stayed strong, the one who kept the peace, the one who smiled through the exhaustion. but the smile was gone, replaced by a grief that was too big for his body to contain.

jeongin looked through the gaps in the railing at the drop below. it would be so easy. a single step, a moment of weightlessness, and then the quiet. the noise in his head would finally stop. the constant, agonizing ache in his chest would vanish.

he could follow the path of the ticket to the ground, and maybe, in whatever came next, he would find you waiting there with that same ticket in your hand.

he stood up slowly, his legs feeling like lead. he placed one hand on the top of the railing, looking down at the pavement. the thought of the impact didn't scare him; what scared him was the thought of waking up tomorrow and having to do this all over again.

but as he looked out over the city, he stopped. his hand gripped the metal until his knuckles turned white.

"i don't get to go," he whispered, his voice thick with salt and despair.

he didn't deserve the easy way out. he didn't deserve to escape the pain he felt. if he left now, who would remember the way you looked in the morning? who would remember the specific way you’d tuck your chin when you were embarrassed? if he died, those memories died with him, and he couldn't let you disappear completely.

he had to live with it. he had to carry the weight of your absence until it became a part of his bones, a permanent shadow in his soul. that was his duty to you. to bear the pain, to feel every second of the silence, and to keep your name alive in a world that had already moved on.

jeongin slid back down against the wall, his face hidden in his knees as the wind continued to howl around him. he stayed there long after his tears had dried, long after his skin had turned blue from the cold. he was alone on the roof, a boy who had lost his anchor and his heart, and for the first time in his life, he didn't try to hide the darkness.

he just sat there, breathing in the cold air, waiting for the sun to rise on a world that would never be bright again.

🏷️ ( stray kids / general ) : @beautifulsharkgoatee @susu6944 @emilywjinnie @emotionalstrawberries @babythisisourcinema @maliatate96 @sapphirewaves @iconicallyher @fussel9913 @yawwni @inlovewithstraykids @foppishitudinality @gadriezmannsgirl @straystar-8 @narratedforbutterflies @yawngnab @yawwni @teddybeartaetae

“Please! I promise you that I won’t be too much trouble! I’ll just walk behind. You guys won’t even notice me there.”

You sigh, turning around to face a customer. You hand them their coffee, saying a quick bye before turning around to face Mai.

“Now you’re just starting to sound like a stalker. If you really want to go with us, just come.”

You check the orders, twisting in place to grab another large cup. You can see the way Mai’s eyes light up at your words, her mouth curling up into a relieved smile. 

You knew she liked Eom Seonghyeon for a while, her crush dating back since her first day of middle school.

She had always been too shy to say anything, but now that you were in the first year of high school, she had decided it was finally time to ‘make a move’.

“Really? Thank you! Oh my gosh what am I going to do…” she jumps around, almost squealing in excitement.

“You can start by pumping the fucking caramel.”

The next day, Mai invites you to her house, telling you that she was stressed and needed more help than ever.

“Which shirt should I wear?”

She holds up two, a pretty pink polo and a white long sleeve.

“Just layer the pink over the white, it’s gonna be cold out anyway.” You yawn, relaxing into her bed.

“But, I want him to offer me his jacket…” she pouts.

“Then wear the pink one, if you’re really that desperate.” The last part earned you a slap to your shoulder.

“Whatever.” She turns back around, switching through her hangers for a few moments before holding up two skirts. 

“What skirt should I wear?” 

You mentally slapped your forehead, realising it was going to be a long morning.

She ended up wearing a pink button up, paired with a short denim skirt you picked out from the depths of her closet. She had even sprayed the citrus perfume that he had once called nice.

“Do you think he’ll think I’m cute?”

“Mhm, and with this outfit he’ll also get down on one knee and propose to you.” You remarked dryly, scrolling through whatever text messages Seonghyeon had sent now.

Today 11:34 am

Priss/prick

when are u comingggg

bro people keep staring at me

are you sure my fit doesn’t look weird?

you know ive just stopped trying with my fits now

You

Why tf are u typing with ur caps off

Ik damn well u don’t know how to turn auto cap off

Are u doing it manually like a loser?

Priss/prick

Shut up

Also finally u responded

What took u so long

You

Js wait

Mai is coming w us

Priss/prick

Your friend?

Why is she coming?

I js wanted it to be us two

You scrunch your nose at his words.

You

Broski watch ur words

We are NOT a couple

Priss/prick

Yk damn well that’s not what I meant

Wtv js hurry uppp

I keep getting Grandma’s come up to me and ask if I want to date their granddaughters

You

Maybe they js feel bad bc u look so ugly

Priss/prick

Sybau

You chuckle, locking your phone and shoving it into your pocket.

“Maiii, are you done yet?” You drawled, walking over to the outside of her door.

“Yes, I just couldn’t find the sambas he told me looked good!” A short moment later, her apartment door finally opens.

You both say a quick goodbye to her parents before walking to the elevator.

“By the wayyy, has he said anything about me coming?” She asks, her eyes filled with hope.

Although you’re not too sure about what she’s expecting.

You shrugged. “Nothing much.”

She deflates a little, pursing her lips.

“Don’t worry about it too much. Just be yourself.” You try to comfort, patting her shoulder gently as the doors open.

She nods, taking a deep breath to reassure herself.

You meet Seonghyeon at a park 20 minutes later.

He had sat on some random picnic table, his long legs crossed over each other. “Finally, what took you guys so long?”

You shrugged and Mai just awkwardly smiled behind you, a pick tinge already at the corners of her ears.

“Hi.” She says.

Seonghyeon stands up and waves at her before staring at you.

“What?”

“I thought Saturdays were just for us two. Why did she have to come?” He doesn’t say it with any malice, his tone light and barely harsh. He just seemed…curious? Maybe confused? 

Your eyebrows connect for a millisecond at his words. He can’t be serious, you think.

“She just wanted to come. Also, be nice to her.” You say, taking a step closer and flicking off some lint on his hoodie. “You’re acting like the whole hangout is ruined just because she came.”

He shrugs at that. “I’m not saying it’s ruined.”

“Then why do you keep asking me why she came?”

You don’t realise how close his face is until you make eye contact. His eyes almost soften as they look down into yours, or maybe you’re just imagining things. 

“I just like it better when it’s us two.”

The hangout went as well as you expected it to.

Although it had a rocky start, with a few uneasy silences and awkward comments, by the end of it everyone was laughing.

He had even offered her his hoodie when it got colder, an action that made her almost as red as Martin when he was embarrassed. 

He also treated her to açai, buying her a bowl and when you had visited a cafe after, he had opened her water bottle for her.

She had gushed all about it after, pacing around in her room in happiness.

“And he even knew the sidewalk rule! Gosh, he’s just so…perfect!” She says, plopping down onto her bed and smiling. 

She grabs her plushie and lays down next to you, staring at the ceiling as she probably recalled the whole day once more.

You had been scrolling on your phone the whole time, responding to her sentences with various hums.

“He’s just so nice! And handsome, and cute…”

“You gonna name him the whole dictionary of nouns?”

She hits you with the plushie, turning on her side to face you.

“Say, how come you never liked him?”

The question makes you furrow your eyebrow. You look over at her, her curious eyes looking right at you.

“Well, I mean I’d never thought of him that way before.”

“Reallyyy? You can tell me anything, I won’t be mad.” She says, but you can see the way her hands tighten around the plushie, the twitch of her jaw telling you that she was nervous to hear what you had to say.

You sigh. What have you gotten yourself into? “Don’t worry, it’s not like I’d catch feelings for him anytime soon.”

The first time you had met Eom Seonghyeon was on the first day of middle school.

It wasn’t anything special, just an assigned seat in math class.

At first he was quiet.

He didn’t talk much, and he was quite shy.

Others would even tease him, calling him a princess because of how his demeanour and looks were.

You didn’t really care about that though, just as long as he wasn’t a snitch.

You would try to say hi every morning, trying to at least be polite.

After a week of awkward conversation, you had both finally started getting comfortable around each other.

You would both offer the other a snack snuck in through your bags, give each other answers, and even laugh at the most stupid jokes together.

A month after you had met, you went over to his place to meet his parents for the first time.

They were nice to you, offering you food and making sure you never went without a drink. His younger sister also quite liked you, discussing and watching dramas with you, something she had called ‘the intellectual’s talk’.

You found yourselves talking more outside of math class, even sitting together in classes you hadn’t before.

Then when you started working at your parents cafe, he started showing up there. You would mess around with him during breaks, sometimes even taking bites out of his food. When things got too crazy, he would come behind the counter just to help you out.

“So when can I apply to actually work here? You know I won’t be doing free labour forever–“

“Hyeon, I’m going to smack you if you ask that question one more time.”

When he started swimming, you would show up to his practices, timing his laps and giving him towels when he needed. Some of his club members would even joke that you were like a housewife, except after a few weeks of ass-beating, they stopped calling you that.

During his meets you would cheer the loudest for him, even resorting to buying a megaphone just to yell his name out.

It wasn’t really helping your reputation, but you just thought that was what friends were supposed to do.

You met Mai during your second year.

You hadn’t exactly planned to become friends with her. You were polite when you needed to be, but never nice enough to say you wanted to be ‘best friends’.

But then she started getting bullied.

You had caught them in an alley close to the school.

They had been kicking at her, making her curl up into a ball.

You had run in, grabbing one of the beer bottles off the floor and smashing it against the walls.

They had run off quickly after that, scared that you would actually hurt them.

She looked scared and her lip had been bleeding. You walked her home, carrying her bag and making sure she was alright.

The day after that, she started sticking around you more. She sat close to you and Seonghyeon during recess, even following you around until she reached her class.

At that point you just decided to become friends with her.

She told you about her crush a couple months later, saying that she saw him sitting next to you at the back of the classroom and thought he was the prettiest guy she had ever seen.

Now here she was, sending him love eyes from across the cafeteria.

He sat right in the middle next to Martin and Keonho, two guys he met through swimming. James and Juhoon sat across from them, both eating silently as the three bickered over something else.

She sighs wistfully, staring at him like he was a work of art. “Do you think he ever thinks about me?”

“No.” You had said immediately.

She smacked your shoulder, making you rub the spot she hit.

“Just tell him you like him already. The worst thing he could say is no.”

“See that’s what you think! I just want to get closer with him. Like how close you two are!”

You turn, raising an eyebrow at her statement.

You think about it for a moment. How close were you two? You never thought of being ‘best friends’ with him, but you were close enough that you could probably show up to his place unannounced and he wouldn’t even care.

You shake your head, pressing your lips into a thin line. “I don’t think we’re as close as you think we are…”

“Well how close do you think you are? Because back when I first started having a crush on him, I thought you two were like, close to dating already.” She reaches over your lunch, taking a few bites out of your sandwich.

“I wouldn’t say we’re close, but we’re not exactly strangers either.”

“So what would you call yourselves?”

You look back over at him. He’s laughing at another joke when he catches your gaze, his eyes staring right back at you. He waves at you before turning back around and talking to his friends.

You look back at Mai, who seems to be finishing up the sandwich now.

“Casual. I’d say we’re casual friends.”

“You think we’re casual?” Seonghyeon asks. 

He sits in front of you, tilting his head against the train window.

Your parents had both decided to go on a strawberry picking trip together, saying that they all needed to try something new. Much to your disappointment, his little sister was at a sleepover, so it was just you two.

You hadn’t told him about Mai’s crush, but you did bring up the topic of what you had been talking about.

“Is that how you see it?”

He shakes his head, looking out the window now. “I did think we were a little more than that though.”

“Really? What did you think we were?” You’re not sure why you asked that, knowing that some part of that question could have alluded to something more.

He seems to think for a moment before sitting up, staring at the train ceiling.

“I don’t know. A lot of the stuff we do together are things that best friends would do, and sometimes we grow a little too distant but still come back to each other.” He shoves his hands into his pockets, thinking about his next words. “We talk, at least once everyday even though we’re not in the same classes anymore, but we also went through that period where we just didn’t have the time to be close, but we understood each other enough to know that we didn’t mean to hurt each other.”

You stare at him as he speaks, the way his lips form different shapes to speak, the way his eyebrows twitch as he recalls all the memories, the way his hair falls over his eyes as he moves around. 

You realise that everything he says is true.

To say it simply, you had stopped talking for about three months in your last year of middle school.

It wasn’t anything abrupt, and it wasn’t like you guys had some big argument.

You just stopped.

He stopped sending you those nonsense reels and you stopped calling him.

It wasn’t like you guys had been rude or said something unforgivable.

You were both just really burnt out.

The cafe wasn’t doing well and he kept getting injuries that prevented him from swimming.

He kept getting some type of shoulder and neck pain, which prevented him from doing his events, while your parents kept struggling to pay the cafe bills.

You ended up having to take a few other jobs around town, getting one at a record store and another cafe.

It started off small, with missed calls and texts. Sometimes you would both leave the other on read, too tired to respond back. 

After a while, Mai found it awkward to choose between sides.

“So don’t. You don’t have to stick around either of us–you have other friends.”

You don’t know what caused you to say that. You had smacked your hand over your mouth, and had apologised immediately after. She knew you didn’t mean it in a bad way, you had just said it in a bad manner.

She knew you were too stressed and tired to care, so she ended up taking your advice just to make it easier.

You still feel bad months later, but it ended up helping her as she actually began to put herself out there more, even hanging out with girls she had once told you terrified her because they were so pretty.

The interactions with Seonghyeon before the break were just filled with ‘sorry for missing out’ or whatever favors your parents needed from the other. You two just got too busy to keep each other in your lives, so you let go of it.

You remember his last message before the break being ‘See you.’

The odd thing about it was that you didn’t miss him at all during the three months.

You were too focused on trying to keep things at your jobs together while also keeping up with your studies.

It didn’t feel awkward seeing him at school, but it didn’t exactly feel comfortable either. 

He didn’t disappear from your life. His presence was still there, just quieter. 

You didn’t wave to each other like you always did, instead just making eye contact before looking away. 

You remember the day you had reconnected.

The cafe was doing well again, and your parents could even hire another person to work so you didn’t have to. You didn’t hear much about him, maybe a few updates from Mai, saying that he was doing really well in swimming now.

You had just been sitting around your room, watching some random show when your phone started vibrating.

It was a facetime call from Seonghyeon.

The photo that popped up was an old baby polaroid of him, something that his parents had shown you last year. You had forgotten you had set it to that picture, remembering his protests about it.

You didn’t know how to feel.

You weren’t shocked, but you weren’t upset either.

Were you happy? Overjoyed? You didn’t know.

You simply swiped to answer, as if you didn’t just spend weeks not talking. 

You find his face staring back. 

You recognised the swim lockers behind him, but that wasn’t the point.

He held up a gold medal, smiling stupidly as Keonho and Martin cheered behind him. Water was still dripping down the sides of his hair, the pink towel you had always brought for him now wrapped around his neck.

“I won.”

Back to the present, you sit down on a wooden bench in the shade, fanning yourself as hot air blows past.

Your parents all had scattered across the field, both your mothers taking pictures almost everywhere. Your fathers had decided to do a little bet, something about who could pick the most.

A few school kids ran around the bushes, playing some random game and even seeing who could pick the biggest berry. Their yellow hats peeked out just above, the bright sun shining down on the plastic.

You stared at the ground, watching some ants crawl across the dirt.

“What are you thinking about?”

You hear his voice behind you before something cold is pressed against your neck, making you flinch.

You turn, staring at him in annoyance.

“Where did you even get that?”

Seonghyeon opens the soda one handed, giving it over to you while sitting down.

“Receptionist? I don’t know what it’s called but there was a vending machine where you had to sign up.”

You hum in acknowledgment, taking a quick sip.

“How many strawberries did you pick?”

“Like 30? I gave them to my mum though, I’ve no idea what she did with them.” You shrugged. “What about you? How many did you pick?”

“Hmm, 40? I just picked whichever ones looked good. I think my mum wants to make a jam out of it.”

“Is she on a baking spree again?”

The conversation flowed easily after that. 

The topic went from school to work, swimming to basketball. After that, you both decided to walk through the fields, taking photos off of the digital camera he bought you last spring. 

Although for some reason he ended up taking more pictures of you than himself.

Weird, but you didn’t question it.

After about an hour, you returned back to your parents, only to see a frantic woman screaming out some kid's name.

“Wooju! Wooju! Where are you?” Her voice echoed across the farm, making a few other visitors turn their heads. Her voice was hoarse and starting to crack, clearly tired from how many times she had probably called out for the kid.

20 kids were already around her, calling out Wooju’s name with their shrill voices. A few were even starting to cry, their wails becoming louder than the teacher.

Your dads had decided to help the lady, while also dragging you two along. A few of the other visitors ended up looking as well, along with a bunch of other teachers from different schools.

You and Seonghyeon walked to the far edges of the farm, calling out the kid’s name.

Your voices echoed right after the other, the calls becoming much more intense as the search went on.

“He can’t have gone into the forest, right?”

“Don’t jinx it. Let’s just keep our search in the field and if we’re really desperate, we’ll go into the forest.”

After a few minutes, the sky had started to go dark. The previously blue skies were now turning into a muddled orange.

Luckily your mother’s had brought flashlights, so you and Seonghyeon had delved deeper into the fields while sticking closely together.

At this point, a whole search party was out for the kid.

Farmers from across the town were all in the field, along with a few big helpers who decided to go into the edges of the forest in case the kid had really gone that far.

After a few minutes of searching with Seonghyeon, both of you stared into the forest close by. The forest looked way darker than it was this morning, looking more like a horror film set rather than a peaceful painting.

“Should we check?” You had asked out of worry for the small boy.

“It wouldn’t hurt.”

You didn’t want to seem scared in front of him, so you hardened your resolve and walked forward. You stood in front of it, the fence only reaching your thigh. It felt forbidden to cross, but you bring your leg over, pushing yourself onto your arms and landing on the other side.

He hopped over the fence right after you, staying very close to you in case something happened. You both walked tentatively, cautiously looking around for anything that even looked slightly dangerous.

You couldn’t hear anything from the fields, and the ground in front of you was starting to get darker. The trees were starting to get denser as well, the path now only able to fit three people.

You were a little scared, but you tried to push it down, knowing that the kid was probably more scared than you.

You took another step forward, bringing your flashlight anywhere in front of you. You could only recognise the sound of your breathing and the faint crunch of the leaves underneath your shoes.

“Hey..” 

You flinched at hearing Seonghyeon’s voice so close to you. In the silence, you realised your heart started beating against your chest loudly, adrenaline and fear raging through your body.

“What?”

Your tone came out a little brash, sounding harsher than you meant it to be.

He didn’t seem to care, just sighed and switched over his flashlight to his right hand.

“Hold my arm.”

“Huh?”

You couldn’t process what he had said properly until he held out his arm, offering it to you.

“If it makes you feel safer, hold my arm.”

You were about to refuse until a cold breeze blew in, the darkness around you starting to seem much more clearer than before. The branches rustle all around you, the trees suddenly feeling much, much bigger. You hear crows cawing out far away from you, but it’s loud enough that it sends you shivers up your spine.

“Fine.”

You wrapped your hand around his arm, the fabric of his long sleeve soft and warm.

This doesn’t mean anything. You thought to yourself.

Mai was the one who liked him, not you.

Every step you took forward made you feel more nervous than the last, but at least you knew Seonghyeon would be next to you the whole time.

It’s not that his presence comforted you–

Well, maybe it did.

But, maybe it was more like ‘if something happened you could just push him as bait and run away’ type of comfort.

“Wooju?”

You had called out, trying to hear anything else other than your thunderstorm of a heartbeat.

“Wooju!” Seonghyeon had echoed, looking over to the left.

It’s too quiet.

You want to turn back, but the image of a little boy curling up and crying pushes you forward. You can’t imagine how scared he must be–you just hope that he’s okay.

“Hello?”

The small voice comes from the left, interrupting your thoughts.

You both turn immediately, finding a yellow hat peek out from behind a tree.

Two eyes pop out as well, their pupils dilating as you immediately point the flashlight in towards that direction.

“You were saying my name.”

You immediately let go of Seonghyeon, rushing over to the kid and making sure he was okay.

You look all over him, seeing if there were any injuries. You see a giant red smear on his calf, calling Seonghyeon to come over as well.

Wooju notices your gaze, looking down at his legs. “That’s just strawberries; Kana rubbed all of us with it!” He had laughed out, giving both of you a toothy smile.

You notice the top part of his gum bleeding, immediately making you lean back down.

“What happened here?” You pointed at it, making sure he was comfortable with you pulling his lip up.

“I bit into a really big strawberry and lost my tooth! It’s in my pocket-wait,” the small boy rustles around his short’s pockets, digging through whatever trinkets he had in there.

“Here!” He pulls the large strawberry out–almost deformed with the ridges and leaves at the top. Stuck right in the middle is a small tooth, the dried residue of blood staining the part that was attached to his gum.

You look at Seonghyeon, who also looked relieved but also exasperated.

“My mummy said that the tooth fairy gives you more money for bigger teeth!”

Seonghyeon snorts, pushing his free hand into his pocket. “Oh actually the tooth fairy isn’t–“ you kick the back of Seonghyeon’s leg before he could say anything.

“That’s very sweet Wooju. Now, has she also told you that you shouldn’t go into forests without anyone with you?” You try to say in a soft voice, reminding yourself that you were still in the forest where anything could happen. 

You already knew that Seonghyeon was probably making fun of you behind your back, probably pretending to gag at your soft act.

Wooju frowns, a pouty expression now on his face. “The lady said we could go anywhere!”

“Right. Well, you have to go back now.”

“No!” He shakes his head, crossing his arms over his puffed out chest.

You sigh before Seonghyeon steps in front of you, leaning down just enough so that he’s the kid's height. “Do it or we’ll feed you to the wolves.”

“Do you think Seonghyeon likes me back?”

You wake up to hearing those exact words, already having regretted opening your eyes.

“Shut up.”

You turn, begging for sleep to take you back, only for the windows to be abruptly opened.

You groaned, opening your eyes and finding Mai’s silhouette standing right next to the bed.

“Can you please help me?”

You sigh, propping yourself up on your elbow and rubbing your eyelids. You notice from the corner of your eyes that she starts to pace around the room, her hands scrunching the hem of her skirt.

“I really like him, but I realised last night that he barely knows me!” She sighs.

“I know he’s probably just being nice, but I really do like him! And I don’t want to be confused about anything when I’m with him, so can you help me?”

“No.”

You turn, about to cover yourself in your blankets when she rips them off of you, the covers thudding against the floor.

“Please! Even if it ends in rejection, I still want to try!”

You sighed, staring at the ceiling. “If I help you, can you give me my covers back?”

“Yes.”

“Okay.”

You sit up properly, watching as she almost jumps at you.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!”

She smiles, her eyes sparkling in excitement.

“So, what’s the first step I should take?”

You get off your bed, grabbing your covers and folding them onto the bed. “Well, first, I’m gonna tell him that all three of us should hang out, and then I’ll pretend to cancel so that you two can get some alone time.”

“If that’s your plan, couldn’t I just ask him to hang out?”

“Well, are you going to ask him?”

She thinks about it for a moment before shaking her head, her lips pressed into a thin line of embarrassment.

“So, is that it?”

“Yep.” You say, popping the ‘p’ a little too loud. “I’ll text him and say we’ll be going to the mall.”

“But what if he gets suspicious?”

A week after the football incident, you found yourself stuck in a conversation you had absolutely no interest in being part of.

You’d only been trying to get to class.

That was it.

Somehow, somewhere between leaving the cafeteria and reaching the stairs, a girl from your year had stopped you. You knew who she was, but not well enough to have a ten minute conversation in the middle of the hallway.

Yet here you were, smiling politely.

Nodding occasionally.

Praying for an escape.

“—and then she literally posted about it!” the girl continued.

“Really?” you replied.

You didn’t even know what you were saying “really” to anymore.

The conversation had dragged on for so long that you’d completely lost the plot. You shifted your weight awkwardly, glancing toward the staircase. Your next class started in a few minutes, but cutting her off felt rude.

Unfortunately, standing here forever also felt rude.

To yourself.

“So then I told her—”

“There you are.”

The familiar voice made you look up immediately.

Seonghyeon.

For a second, you just stared. He stopped beside you, one hand shoved casually into his pocket.

“Why are you still here?” he asked.

You blinked.

“What?”

“Class starts in like two minutes.”

Your eyes widened slightly.

It did?

Before you could check your phone, Seonghyeon looked over at the girl.

“Sorry,” he said easily. “I need her for something.”

Need you?