“uh… uh huh.”

sunghoon pushed on, gaining confidence after that little push. he cleared his throat, eyes fixed on the female in front of him. 

“my heart flutters every time you walk into the room, and every word you confide in me—” 

“nope. stop.” jake cut him off, waving his spoon like a referee. “dude, nah. what are you? you’re not 72, you’re only 23!” 

sunghoon groaned loudly, covering his face with both hands, elbows planted on the table. his dark hair fell forward as he slumped. “then how am i supposed to say it?” he mumbled through his fingers, voice muffled and frustrated. 

jake leaned forward on the chair, grinning. oh, his poor little bestfriend. he turned to the poor waitress, who was holding the pot of water as she refilled sunghoon’s cup for the fifth time of the night. 

“alright, be honest,” jake asked her, tilting his head. “would you accept his confession?”

the waitress blinked, cheeks tinting ping. she shifted on her seat, chuckling softly. “uh… um… well, it’s a bit too… much? like, too fast?” she gave a nervous little laugh. “i mean, that was really sweet! a little gross, but so sweet!”

jake clapped his hands in victory. “exactly. thank you.” he flashed her his charming smile. the waitress smiled back, scooting to leave the banquette chair. “also, can i get a cup of coffee? thank you.”

“sure,” she nodded quickly. before leaving, she glanced at sunghoon, whose head was still slumped against his palms. her voice softened a little. “and don’t worry too much about it. girls are simpler than you think. it’ll go well.”

sunghoon just muttered a soft, weak “thanks…” without lifting his head.

once she disappeared toward the counter, jake stood up, swung the single chair back to its original spot and slid back into the booth across from sunghoon. he stretched his arms along the back of the seat, sighing. 

they’d been practicing for the past hour straight, and it honestly wasn’t looking too good for sunghoon. every attempt came out either painfully stiff and awkward or overly dramatic—like it was so obviously scripted and rehearsed. 

the fluorescent lights of the diner above them flicked once, casting a brief shadow over sunghoon’s flushed face. he couldn’t believe they just stole away a waitress, her time, and made her the victim of his endless confessions.

jake watched him for a second, the grin faded into something more to sympathy. he leaned forward, arms on the table now. 

sunghoon finally dropped his hands, thoroughly defeated. “i’m never doing this again.”

“you’re overthinking it.” jake said, voice lower than before. “yn isn’t the type who wants fireworks and bouquet of roses. she literally laughs at the smallest things in the world and more than anything, she’d value your honesty and sincerity more than these… superficial things.” he tapped the table twice for emphasis.

“just be honest and direct. tell her how you actually feel when you see her. that’s it.” 

sunghoon finally lifted his head, dragging a hand through his dark hair. his jaw clenched, dark brown eyes tired under the warm lighting. “i know that,” he muttered, sighing. “but every time i think about actually saying it to her… my brain just goes blank, man.”

“what if i ruin it? everything? we’ve been friends for some time now—i can’t just fuck it we ball. what if she doesn’t feel the same and it gets weird?” 

jake shrugged, stealing a fry from sunghoon’s forgotten, unfinished plate. “then it gets weird for a bit. but at least you’ll know how it actually goes if you do confess.” he pointed a fry at his friend. 

“and besides, you know how she is. she’s not going to throw a friendship over some temporary feelings. she’s more mature despite her looks.”

sunghoon didn’t answer right away. he stared at his glass instead, watching droplets of condensation slide down the glass. the thought of you made his chest ache in that terrifying way of rejection. 

he could already picture it.

your soft voice saying no, the same voice that sunghoon loved hearing more than the sound of his band’s songs. the way your fingers would probably hold his’, telling him how sorry you are, the same fingers that strummed his guitar. how you’d look turning him down—no longer the peaceful look you always have on your face. 

ugh, fuck. you’d probably look awkward, guilty, and pity him. looking pathetic in front of you was the last thing sunghoon ever wanted. 

and the thing was—sunghoon’s feelings, he’s sure it’s not just temporary. they weren’t just a passing crush like how the other boys had for their crushes. this feeling settled deep in his chest and it only grew stronger every single day.

“i don’t know,” he finally said, voice low. his fingers messed with his hair again, tugging at the strands in frustration. 

“ah, fuck it,” sunghoon muttered under his breath, tipping his head back before his shoulders slumped. “i’ll just… shit, i won’t do it.”

jake’s eyebrows shot up. “hey, don’t be like that. what gives?”

sunghoon shook his head, refusing to meet his best friend’s eyes. he slumped back against the seat. “nah, i don’t want to hear it when she says no.”

there it was—the insecurity he kept locked away that’s slipping out in his tone. sunghoon wasn’t the type to say it out loud often, but tonight it sat right on the surface. jake knew this too well. 

jake leaned forward a little more, frowning in confusion. it wasn’t going well, sure—but sunghoon looked determined enough just a few seconds ago. “you won’t know that unless you try.”

“nah, it’s fine, man,” sunghoon replied quickly, scoffing. he leaned back, arms crossed over his chest. pure body language sign that he didn’t want to have this conversation anymore. “i’ll just regret it.”

jake, still slightly frowning, watched him for a few seconds, then sighed. “alright… well, you do you.” he paused, tapping his fingers once on the table before adding, more seriously this time. “i’m just saying… it’s not like you have all the time in the world. you either take the risk, or lose the chance.”

the words landed like the moon between them. sunghoon didn’t reply. he only stared at his cold glass again. jake quietly sipped on his coffee, drumming his fingers against the table.

the diner went quiet. 

——

when did it all start? 

maybe it was the first time he ever saw you.

it was a few years back—a lazy, hot afternoon in jake’s dorm meant to study but turned into doing nothing. jake had been showing him old photos on his phone, scrolling through memories when sunghoon wasn’t even in. 

then there you were, standing next to jake in one of the pictures, maybe fourteen, or younger than that. sunghoon couldn’t tell. but you were smiling brightly with messy hair and stained uniform. jake laughed and said something like, “that’s my childhood bestfriend, yn. she’s starting here this semester.”

sunghoon had only nodded at the time.

or maybe it started the day you stepped into their elective class—graphic web designing—half an hour late. 

you’d missed the bus, hair—again—slightly messy from rushing across the campus, cheeks flushed and the collar of your blouse was slightly wet with sweat. the professor made you introduce yourself in front of the entire auditorium as “punishment”.

just like others, you were embarrassed. but a cute kind. the kind where sunghoon was glad the bus ran late because he got to see you this way. 

or maybe the night his band performed at the campus music festival.

the lights were blinding and the crowd was loud. but in the middle of one song, his vision had cleared for a split second and he saw you. standing near the front with jake, smiling and not singing cause you had no idea what you’d just dragged yourself into. 

you’re an awkward girl, sunghoon could tell that. probably not as awkward as him, but definitely not as outgoing like the others in the crowd. when the set ended and you smiled up at the stage—not at the band or the performance, but specifically him when your eyes met—something within sunghoon shifted.

that was the moment he knew it wasn’t casual anymore. 

HONK!

sunghoon startled, snapping back into reality as the sharp sound of a car horn cut through his thoughts. he was behind the wheel of his sedan, halfway home. the traffic light in front of him had turned green while he was lost in his head. 

“gosh… jesus, calm down,” he muttered under his breath, cheeks warming with embarrassment even though he was alone. he quickly shifted gears, pressing the accelerator a little too hard before easing off. 

his hands tightened slightly on the steering wheel. that spiral of memories left a strange tightness in his chest. the way you looked at him. not the lights, not his bandmates, not jake. just him. 

he exhaled slowly, trying to shake the feeling off. driving usually helped him clear his head, but tonight, every red light felt like a warning. 

you either take the risk, or lose the chance. 

sunghoon bit the inside of his cheek. he wasn’t sure if he was ready to even risk it… but the longer he waited, the more he’s at a loss.

how was he supposed to say it then? 

sunghoon tried practicing in his head again, muttering under his breath like an idiot. 

“hey, yn… i’ve been wanting to tell you something for a while now…”

too casual. basic.

“i like you. a lot. more than a lot, actually—”

no. that sounded too desperate. 

“if you don’t like me back, i don’t know what i’m gonna to myself.”

what the fuck was that? sunghoon cringed hard, gripping the wheel tighter. he’s not saying that to you.

every version felt wrong. too stiff. too awkward. too much. not enough. 

damn. was this even the right thing to do?

you… you were so full of light. so whimsical and kind to everyone in a way sunghoon had never known before. smiling, laughing, giving pieces of yourself away so… so easily. sunghoon wanted that. he wanted all of it for himself. 

but what if you didn’t feel the same? what if you only saw him as someone from your graphic class? as jake’s bestfriend?

he hated how that was possible. and how much power you had over him without even knowing it.

“... i just want her to look at me,” he muttered quietly, drumming his fingers against the steering wheel.  “is that too much to ask?”

the selfish want sat heavy in his chest, mixed with the familiar fear of rejection. sunghoon didn’t think about what his confession might do to you. the thought about what not having you was already consuming him too much. 

——

“kibbles?” sunghoon called softly, voice echoing a little in the dim hallway. he kicked off his shoes by the entrance, setting it aside with his foot. “kibbles?”

huh. she’d usually come running. or at least meowed from her favourite spot on the windowsill where she liked to watch the car headlights. the sound of the door unlocked should already alert her that he was home.

but tonight there was nothing.

sunghoon frowned, sighing as he set his keys down on the console table. he made his way through to her usual spots first—the windowsill, none. the corner of the couch where she’d bundle in the blanket, none. on top of his speaker stack, not there too. under the dinner table, no sign of her.

“kibs, come on,” he muttered, a small thread of annoyance and worry creeping in as he walked further into the house. deciding to let her be for now, sunghoon went into his room and flipped on the bathroom light.

he froze.

there—kibbles was lying motionless on the cold tile floor near the sink, her small gray body curled unnaturally. a half–chewed blue-green pebble was sitting right in her slightly opened mouth. white, foamy drool trailed at the corner of her cat mouth.

insecticide bait pellets for the tiny ants he’d bought. 

“shit…” sunghoon whispered, heart dropping. 

he crouched down slowly, hand hovering over her without touching. she was already cold—must’ve been a while ago today while he was out the whole day. sunghoon glanced at the pellets he scattered around the floor. 

he must’ve forgotten to throw the rest of those pellets out after he placed them. he’d meant to, really had. but between band practice, the constant thinking about you, work, assignments—it had slipped his mind. 

“sorry, kibs,” he breathed, scratching the back of his neck, then ruffled through his messy hair. 

what a shitty fucking day. 

he crouched there on the bathroom floor for a long moment, just staring at her. she’d been with him since his first year—a low–maintenance companion who never asked for much, but always kept him together. 

and now she was gone because he’d been careless about throwing those damn poison pellets out. 

eventually, sunghoon stood up. he grabbed an old towel from the rack and gently wrapped her in it, carrying her out of the bathroom. she felt heavy and unnaturally stiff in his gentle grip. he placed her on the kitchen counter for a second while he looked for a bag.

once he found one, a paper bag, he carefully slid her inside and set the bag near the edge of the counter, meaning to deal with it properly later. to bury her outside, or something. 

but his phone suddenly rang, cutting through the silence of the house.

he pulled it out of his pocket. 

haewon.

“hey,” sunghoon answered, voice tired and weary. 

“hey, are you and jake okay?” haewon asked without much greeting. it’s always been like that anyway. she sounded like she was walking somewhere, keys jingling in the background.  

“yeah, why?”

“dunno… he just looked kinda bummed when he came home. you okay?”

sunghoon let out a long breath, leaning against the counter. his eyes drifted to the plastic bag holding kibbles.

“not really,” he admitted quietly. “kibbles died.”

there was a soft gasp, then followed with a short pause on the other end.

“oh gosh…” haewon muttered, her breath hitched in her lungs. “sunghoon, i’m sorry… what happened?”

“she just… she ate something bad,” he said, the words coming out carefully. he didn’t mention the insecticide pellets. didn’t mention he’d forgotten to throw them out days ago. it happened. 

“i found her in the bathroom earlier.”

he left it at that—vague, but enough. people didn’t need to know about details. part of him felt kinda guilty for not telling the full truth, but another part of him just didn’t want to hear the judgement in her voice. or worse, the pity.

haewon sighed softly on the line. “that’s awful… i know how much you loved her. do you need anything? want me to come over or bring you food or—?”

“nah, it’s fine,” sunghoon replied, rubbing his temple. “i’ll deal with it. thanks though.”

“oh—alright, just let me know if anything, okay?”

“sure.”

the call didn’t last much longer. after a few more gentle words from haewon, he hung up and set the phone down. 

sunghoon stood there in silence for a moment, staring at the paper bag. he then glanced at the clock on the wall—it was almost 2. too late to deal with this properly. he’d handle it tomorrow. whatever people did in these situations.

with a tired sigh, he picked up the bag and carried it over to the kitchen trash bin. sunghoon hesitated for half a second—he didn’t want to throw her out, of course; but he didn’t want to have a dead cat lying on the counter. 

so he dropped it inside.

the soft thud it made when it hit the rest of the trash felt heavier than it should have.

sunghoon didn’t want to think about it anymore tonight. what would change?

he turned off the lights, dragging himself to his bedroom, changed to his shorts before collapsing onto the bed. he closed his eyes, hoping sleep would come fast.

what a shitty fucking day.

——

“hah—ngh—?” 

you were underneath him.

a broken sound escaped your throat as pleasure coiled tight in your tummy. you were spread out on his bed, legs wrapped around his waist as he moved deep inside you in slow, rolling thrusts.

missionary. intimate. close.

“shit, yn…” sunghoon groaned, his fingers digging into the fat of your hips. you felt impossibly warm and tight around him. like a fucking vice. your hands were gripping his back, pretty little manicured nails digging into his skin every time he sank in fully. 

he leaned to kiss you hard, tongue sliding against yours, swallowing every little gasp and whimper that left your lips. your bodies were slick with sweat and saliva and cum—skin sliding together with every movement like oil on oil.

sunghoon pulled back just enough to look at your face—flushed, eyes hazy and teary and blurry with pleasure, lips parted with your lipstick smudged across your lips and his’. so fucking pretty. fuck—the way your tits bounced back and forth every single time he rammed into you.

that made him thrust harder, deeper, grinding against that spot that instantly made your back arch off the bed. your eyes rolled back into your head, and you gasped so aloud it made sunghoon’s hair stand up.

your head tilted back, nails digging into sunghoon’s back.

“ahh—fuck! right there!” 

your voice was wrecked, desperate, and so fucking sweet. you clung to him tighter like a lifeline, arms wrapped tightly around his shoulders, hips rolling up eagerly to meet every thrust. your tight walls fluttered and clenched around his cock, pulling him deeper with every desperate movement.

sunghoon groaned against your neck, kissing and biting the sensitive skin as he picked up his pace. he fucked you harder, grinding against up the pace. he fucked you harder, grinding against that perfect, gummy spot inside you with every stroke. the way your body responded—arching, trembling, soaking his length—drove him insane. 

“you’re so tight, ugh shit—feels s’good.” he moaned, capturing your lips in a messy, heated kiss, swallowing your moans as he drove into you again and again. your breasts pressed against his chest, nipples hard from arousal. one of his hands slid down to grip your thigh, spreading you wider so he could bury himself even deeper.

you moaned louder into his mouth, nails raking so hard and deep it left angry, red marks down his canvas of a skin. your hips kept rolling up like you couldn’t get enough. “g—gonna cum, i’m gonna cum—!”

so wet. so tight. so perfect.

sunghoon wanted to stay buried inside you forever.

“yeah—? oh jesus,” he grunted, nudging your head up to expose more of your neck so he could press his hot lips to your jugular. he kissed the spot first—soft and open–mouthed—before sucking hard on that soft spot, tongue dragging over your pulsing vein as he continued thrusting into you with deep strokes.

the wet, filthy sound of his hips meeting yours filled the room. 

he pulled back just enough to look at your pretty flushed face, eyes clouded with lust.

“i love you,” he whispered hoarsely against your lips. “do you love me?”

your eyes slowly fluttered open. you looked up at him with that soft, hazy expression he loved so much. your fingers brushed his messy, damp hair away from his forehead tenderly, then you smiled—sweet and warm and honey dripped. 

and then you whispered back,

“i love you, jaeyun.”

what—?

sunghoon woke up with a violent jolt, gasping sharply as he sat up in bed. 

his heart was racing so fast, skin covered in a thin layer of sweat, and his cock—his cock was painfully hard, straining against his boxes. the dream still clung to him, the heat of your body, the way you moaned, the way your tight pussy tightened and clenched around him felt so real.

but those last words hit him like ice water.

jaeyun.

sunghoon sat there in the dark of his room, chest heaving, staring at his own reflection on the wall in front of him. the name echoed in his head, twisting something ugly and sharp in his stomach. 

he ran a shaky hand through his hair, trying to calm his breathing. 

it was just a dream. just a stupid fucking dream that felt so, so, so fucking real. 

just a dream. shit.

he let out a heavy sigh and glanced down. the front of his boxers was visibly wet and sticky, soaked through from how hard he’d cum during the dream. at the age of 23. he cursed under his breath and pulled the blanket off his lap.

then he finally looked at the clock on his nightstand.

16:53

“damn…” sunghoon muttered, rubbing his face. he had slept through the entire morning and most of the afternoon. he’d missed practice—but thank god the rental store was closed for the day. 

RING—!

his phone suddenly rang, vibrating loudly on the nightstand. sunghoon reached over to grab it—the screen lit up with jake’s name.

he stared at it for a long second before picking up, his voice coming out rough and slightly annoyed when he was reminded of the dream. 

“what?”

“whoa, damn,” jake laughed on the other end. easy. “did i wake you up or something? you sound like shit.”

sunghoon leaned back against the headboard, running his fingers through his hair again. “uh—yeah, sorry. long night. what do you want?” sunghoon cleared his throat, sounding less… irritated. 

jake didn’t seem fazed. “band night at the hollow tonight. a couple of the guys from fine arts are playing. thought you might wanna come through. you in?”

sunghoon hummed, leaning his head back, staring at the ceiling. kibbles’ death and the dream was still clinging to him like sweat. 

“uh… no, i don’t think so actually.”

there was a short pause. 

“you are?” jake asked, both teasing and concerned lilt slipping into his voice. he wondered if sunghoon was still annoyed and bummed from last night’s conversation. “yn will be there.”

sunghoon’s grip tightened slightly on the phone. the mention of your name sent a mix of heat and unease through his chest. it’s nice if you were there—it’d been a minute since sunghoon last saw you. he figured he could…

kibbles.

his heart ached.

“uhm… yeah, no. i don’t know, maybe not,” he muttered, rubbing his eyes. “something came up.”

jake hummed, not buying it. haewon must’ve not told him yet about kibbles. “something came up, huh? you’ve been weird since last night, man. are you good?”

“i’m fine,” sunghoon replied a little too quickly. “just… ‘m just not in the mood tonight. tell haewon and yn i said hi though.”

a beat.

“...alright, sure.” jake didn’t push further, but his tone made it obvious he was suspicious and slightly disappointed. “but if you ever change your mind, we’ll be there from like, 8–ish. don’t rot in your room all night, hoon.”

“yeah, and i won’t—later, jake.”

sunghoon hung up and tossed his phone onto the bed beside him. he sat there in silence for a while, the wet spot on his boxers now cold and uncomfortable.

he glanced at the clock again—it’s a little past 5pm. knowing jake and haewon, they were probably going to drag you out to eat first before heading to the bar for the night. the thought made his tummy twist.

it’s so… bad.

sunghoon hated how easily jealousy sat in his chest now. hated how vivid that dream still felt. hated that even after everything, the first name that left your lips in his fantasy wasn’t his. 

with a heavy sigh, sunghoon forced himself up and out of bed. he stripped off his boxers, tossed them into the laundry basket, and headed to the bathroom. the shower water was hot when he stepped under it, steam quickly filling the small space.

he closed his eyes, letting the water run down his face. 

it’s because you and jake were childhood friends.

that had to be it. that closeness from time. the inside jokes. the way you finished each other’s sentences and food. the way jake could casually throw his arm around your shoulder and you’d just laugh it off, not tensing up. 

the two of you had years of platonic history. sunghoon had… what? a few months—a year, at least—of stolen glances, late–night study sessions, occasional group hangouts, and bar nights where he always ended up sitting near you but never close enough.

the four of you even worked together at the old movie rental store off campus. that was how he got to see you more often—organising shelves together, sharing lunch times together, the chats when the store was empty. those shifts were everything to him. 

sunghoon pressed his forehead to the cool tile, jaw tight.

he wanted more than that, though.

the water kept falling, but it did nothing to wash away the ugly twist in his chest.

——

after his shower, sunghoon stripped the messy sheets off his bed to replace them with fresh ones, trying to keep his hands busy, mind occupied. he was smoothing out the comforter when his phone started ringing again.

gosh. endless calls.

but this time, the screen lit up with your name. 

yn ♡

sunghoon’s heart jumped, and he nearly let go of the pillow he was puffing up. he cleared his throat a couple of times, quickly running his still–damp hair to compose himself before swiping to answer.

“hi, yn,” he said, trying to sound casual even though his voice came out a little lower than usual. 

“hi, sunghoon,” your voice came through the line, soft and warm like always. like you. “are you coming to the band night at the hollow later?”

sunghoon sat on the edge of his freshly made bed, fingers gripping the phone a little tighter. he sucked the inside of his cheek before replying, “uh… maybe not. i don’t know yet,” he answered, hesitating. did you call him just to ask if he was going? did jake put you in on this?

“are you?”

a short second paused before you answered.

“yeah, i am,” you hummed. “one of my girls is performing with her band tonight, so i have to show up,” you continued with a small laugh. there was another short pause before you added, 

“it’d be nice to have you there, though. i’ve got something to tell you.”

sunghoon’s tummy flipped. his heart jumped, and the words got stuck in his throat. 

“really?” his voice softened, a grin plastered on his face. “what is it?”

you let out a soft giggle. “haha, you’ve got to come then if you want to know.”

he couldn’t help the smile that rugged at his lips. canines digging down the flesh of his lower lip, sunghoon fumbled with his pants’ drawstrings. 

“hmm… we’ll see.”

there was another brief pause. then, you continued, tone shifting to something more casual but sincere. “oh, also… i wanna let you know that i’ve put in my two weeks at the store. i wanna focus on helping my mom with the family business we got going on.”

sunghoon’s smile faded. he hadn’t expected that. the only time he could see you for eight hours a day was when you shared a shift. but now, you were going? leaving him?

“oh… wow. that’s… that’s sudden.”

“yeah,” you replied quietly. “i’ll tell you more about it later if you come tonig—crap!” 

there was a sudden clatter on your end, followed by shuffling sounds like you were moving around quickly.

sunghoon sat up straighter. “yn? are you okay?”

he heard a soft grunt on the other line, then your voice. “yeah, yeah—but ugh,” you muttered, crouching down. he could hear the faint echo of your voice like you were near a tiled floor or drain. “my gem fell!”

“your what?”

“my necklace,” you explained, voice a little strained and clearly frustrated. sunghoon heard more shuffling on your end, like you were trying to look for it down the drain. “my onyx, ugh. it’s for protection and i’m supposed to bury it—it just slipped off…”

sunghoon’s lips twitched despite everything. even in small, troubled moments like this, you were still so you.

just as he was about to drift back into that dangerous fantasy, your voice pulled him back. “—of all days! i already feel so crappy, gosh.” 

there was a soft sigh on your end before you continued, “today’s been awful… anyway, i’ll see you tonight?”

sunghoon hesitated for half a second, then answered quietly, “sure. i’ll be there.”

your voice brightened, sunghoon could hear it. he bit back a smile. “really? okay, great. i’ll text you if anything changes. see you later, sunghoon.”

“mmhm. see you, yn.”

the call ended.

the promise of seeing you tonight—with the something you wanted to tell him—made his chest feel tight in a way that was both exciting and terrifying. 

tonight could be the night that everything changes.

——

“welcome to crystal cove.” 

sunghoon gave the girl behind the counter a small smile as he stepped inside the quirky little shop. the place smelled in incense and old wood, with soft ambient music playing in the background. he looked around slowly, taking in the shelves packed with crystals, tarots, and spiritual… weird trinkets. 

the girl, who looked to be around his age with dyed purple hair, multiple piercings, barely looked up from her nails at first. 

“if you need help with anything, let me know,” she said lazily, then went back to filing her nails.

sunghoon just nodded and wandered into the store, browsing quietly. after a couple of minutes, he cleared his throat. “uh, yeah… actually i do need help. do you have crystal or gem necklaces?”

the girl finally put down her nail file and walked out from behind the counter.

“yeah, let me show you.”

she led him to a small table that had a spinning display rack full of necklaces and pendants. different stones in shapes and colours hung neatly. 

“this is all we have,” she said, giving the rack a little spin. “they all have their own energies and stuff, so yeah… take your pick.”

sunghoon leaned in slightly, scanning the many options. “wow, thanks…” he paused, then asked, “what’s one for… calmness, or something like that?”

the girl tilted her head, thinking for a second before picking out a necklace with a smooth, pale blue stone. “this one’s blue lace agate. pretty good for calmness and communication. helps with anxiety too, supposedly.”

sunghoon stared at it for a moment, then nodded before taking it from her hand. “okay, cool… thanks.”

“mmhm,” the girl replied with a small hum, already turning away to go back behind the counter. she picked up the nail file again.

sunghoon held the necklace for a few seconds, turning it over in his palm. huh… yn’s not gonna like this. it felt too generic. he quietly placed it back on the spinning rack. 

just as he was about to walk away—get you another thing, bracelet, or something—something else caught his eye.

on the shelf right in front of him sat a small collection of boxes, tiny voodoo keychains, and other oddities. tucked between a "manifestation jar” and a pack of antique–degined tarot cards was an unassuming item labeled—

one wish willow.

the box was small and white, almost minimalist. on the front was a delicate illustration of a slender, weeping willow branch with a single growing orb at the tip. the text printed in a thin, elegant serif font:

grab your wish willow! 

break with intention. one use only.

below that, in a smaller faded letting:

wishes do come true. be careful what you ask for.

the packaging looked old, like something you’d find in an actual vintage shop rather than a crystal store like this. sunghoon turned it around. on the back was a simple set of instructions printed in the same font:

spark the middle, break in half.

he stared at it for another few seconds.

huh… a wish. a small, crooked smile tugged at his lips. 

“yn’s gonna like this.”

sunghoon grabbed the box without thinking twice and headed to the counter. the girl looked up from filing her nails again when he placed it down. 

“no crystals?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.

he shook his head, smiling. “this one’s better, i think,” he replied, shrugging.

she scanned the item with a bored expression. “oh right, sure. ‘cause you can make a wish. everyone wants a wish.” she said, her tone subtly sarcastic as she put the box in a small paper bag.

sunghoon let out an awkward laugh. “haha… yeah. it’s, um… it’s not for me.”

“right…” the girl glanced up at him, as she slid the bag towards him with a half-smile. “well, don’t come back complaining if it actually works.”

sunghoon raised an eyebrow. “oh, don’t worry, i won—wait, what do you mean? people complain about these?” 

the girl leaned her elbows on the counter, looking mildly entertained for the first time she puts her file down. “well, they’re from the 70s, so most people buy them as collectibles. not really meant to be used. the ones who do use them… usually come back complaining.”

sunghoon let out a short, disbelieving laugh. “haha, why? ‘cause they make regretful wishes or something?”

the girl didn't laugh. she just looked at him for a beat too long. 

“yeah. and then they wish they were dead.”

a heavy silence fell between them. the soft ambient music in the store suddenly went deafened.

sunghoon blinked, slightly taken aback. the girl didn’t bat her eyes away. 

“... what?”

she held his gaze for another second before she suddenly cracked a smile and laughed lightly, waving her hand. 

“well, that’d be 15000 won.”

the eerie tension vanished as quickly as it came. sunghoon blinked, letting out an awkward chuckle but still a little unsettled. 

“ah, haha… um, here.” he handed her his card. she rang him up quickly, slipped the receipt into the bag. “you’re good at creeping people out.” he complimented her nervously.

the girl laughed, shrugging. 

“enjoy your wish.”

when sunghoon walked off with his paperbag, he turned to look at the girl behind the counter.

she smiled very still, eerily.

wow, sunghoon thought, shaking his head. she needs a raise.

——

the hollow was loud but cozy, being a small bar after all. a local band warmed up on stage followed by low chatter of regulars. the four of you were seated at a round wooden table near the back: you, sunghoon, jake, and haewon.

“—so this guy at the volunteering site tried to flirt with me in the midst of cleaning up the chicken’s cage. mid–scooping he goes, ‘you have really pretty eyes.’”

jake bursted out laughing. “ew, that’s disgusting. what did you say?”

“i told him my eyes were only pretty when i wasn’t smelling shit,” haewon replied, laughing.

you were laughing too, leaning forward with your chin resting on your hand. “he sounds silly. did he keep trying?”

sunghoon smiled along, but honestly, he wasn’t really listening. his eyes kept going back and forth from you, then haewon, then back to you again. under the table, he kept nudging jake’s foot with his own.

jake finally glanced at him, mouthing, what? 

sunghoon jerked his head subtly toward you, then gave jake a look that clearly said—leave us alone for a bit. 

jake raised his eyebrows, now?, then glanced at haewon who was still mid–story and fully engaged. 

haewon suddenly paused, catching the weird energy and the way they’ve been silent between the two boys. “what the hell are you guys doing?” 

jake’s eyes widened then he chuckled, shaking his head. “nothing! nothing, nothing.” 

nothing—was what he said, but jake’s foot nudged haewon’s underneath the table as well. she frowned, but was quick on catching it, haewon looked at sunghoon—then to you who looked a little confused, and a knowing little smirk appeared on her face.

“oh, oh, okay,” she said, clearing her throat and standing up, “well, i’m kinda thirsty so i’m gonna get more drinks. anyone want anything?”

you immediately started to stand too. “i’ll come with you!” 

then sunghoon suddenly spoke up. “wait—no, i’ll go.”

everyone paused. haewon blinked at him, jake—who was mid–standing in his seat, ready to go with haewon—looked back and forth between you and sunghoon. “uh…” 

“o—okay…” haewon murmured, slowly sitting back down. jake cleared his throat and plopped back into his chair as well. “alright, yn and sunghoon can go then. i just want a coke.”

you glanced at sunghoon, slightly surprised by the sudden switch–up when nobody wanted to go with haewon. still, you didn’t question it. “...sure,” you said with a small smile, gesturing toward the bar. 

“let’s go, sunghoon.”

the bar area was nicely lit with string lights hanging overhead, accompanied with chatters and a band playing on stage in the background. you and sunghoon found a small open spot, slightly away from the main crowd.

you leaned forward slightly, catching the bartender’s attention with a small wave.

“hi—yeah, can i, uh, get two beers, one coke, and a strawberry soju spritzer, please?” you ordered, then added with a grateful smile once he nodded. “thanks a bunch.”

the bartender tapped on the terminal. “alright, that’ll be 38,500 won,” he said. “oh, and we only take cards, hun.”

you nodded quickly, smiling. “oh yup, sure sure,” you replied, already reaching for your wallet.

sunghoon instinctively moved to pull out his own card, but you were faster. your card beeped on the reader before he could do anything. “no, no, it’s fine!” you said, smiling. the machine beeped in approval. 

“i got it.”

then, you gently pushed his hand back down with a soft laugh. sunghoon opened his mouth, then closed it again, a small smile forming despite himself. 

“you didn’t have to do that.”

“i wanted to,” you replied simply, flashing him that smile he loved so much. “you can bring the drinks later.”

sunghoon smiled. as the bartender turned to make the drinks, you turned toward him, resting your elbows on the wooden counter. he felt his pulse pick up, and rubbed the back of his neck before speaking.

“so, uhm… any new movies you’ve been watching lately?”

your eyes lit up instantly—movie talk was always a safe, comfortable topic between the two of you, having worked in a rental store and all.

“oh yeah, actually…” you got comfy. “i watched undertone two nights ago. but don’t tell kim, okay? i promised her i’d rent it at the store first so it counts toward our numbers.”

sunghoon let out a genuine laugh, the sound low. the tension from earlier eased a bit. “you watched it without renting? that’s bold. kim’s gonna kill you if she finds out.”

“i know, i know,” you giggled, covering your mouth with one hand. “i felt so guilty the entire time, but i couldn’t wait. it was so good, sunghoon. the sound design’s absolutely crazy, oh my gosh. i don’t think i’ve ever been so scared without all the jumpscares, ghosts action, you know?”

sunghoon nodded, smiling. he placed the top of his chin on his palm. “i’ve been meaning to watch it. everyone’s been talking about the score. was it as creepy as the trailer made it seem?”

“oh—creepier.” you said, eyes widening for emphasis. sunghoon loved all the expressions your pretty face could do. “if you’re ever gonna watch it, don’t watch it alone—i kept thinking, ‘why am i watching this by myself?”

he smiled. you always got that spark in your eyes when you talked about films. the way your eyebrows lifted, the small scrunch of your nose. so animated. it was one of his favourite things about you.

“haha,” sunghoon chuckled. for a moment, he almost forgot everything else. forgot about the confession, the dream, kibbles. but then he remembered—you said you had something to tell him tonight. 

“oh, yeah… about the thing you wanted to tell me—” he started, voice a little quieter. 

before you could hum a reply of what he was saying, haewon suddenly appeared beside the two of you.

“playgirl’s playing! they’re starting their first song!” she said excitedly, already grabbing your arm. playgirl was one of your friend’s bands that was performing for the night. 

“come on, we have to go back!”

your eyes widened slightly, quickly grabbing your phone on the counter. haewon gently pulled you away. “already?! wait—”

you turned your head toward sunghoon, giving him an apologetic but sweet smile. 

“finish what you’re gonna say later!”

sunghoon nodded, trying to hide his disappointment, annoyance, and embarrassment. he clicked his tongue, drumming his fingers against the bar counter.

dang.

“yeah… later.”

——

the group walked out into the parking lot together, still laughing about something from earlier. your voices echoed between the parked cars under the glow of the streetlights.

suddenly, you stopped mid–step.

“oh, an orangey!” you said, eyes lighting up. a small stray tabby was lurking near one of the cars. without hesitation, you jogged towards it and crouched down, rummaging through your bag until you pulled out a small pack of dry cat food. you tore it open and carefully poured some onto a clean tissue you’d taken out, placing it on the ground.

the three of them slowed down and watched you.

haewon tilted her head, amused. it hadn’t been that long since she became friends with you. “does she always have cat food around?” she asked the two boys.

jake nodded with a grin. “mmhm. pretty much.”

a few moments later, you stood back up, brushing your hands together as the cat approached the food. 

“sorry, what were we saying?” you asked, catching up to them again with an apologetic smile. obviously that small act of kindness towards the cat brightened you up, because you couldn’t contain the smile on your face.

haewon linked arms with you. “we’re going to karaoke! the night is still young~”

you let a tired groan, leaning your head on her shoulder for a second. “but i’m getting older~ ugh, i’d love to join but i’m just so sleepy…”

“awe, come on!” haewon whined, shaking your arm. “it’ll be fun! we haven’t done karaoke in forever.”

“i know, but…” you smiled tiredly, shaking your head. “nooo, seriously you guys, i’m kinda tired.”

jake chuckled. “you sure? you didn’t even drink a lot today.”

you turned to him with a pleading look. “but i do—jaeyun, please? i’m tired… i wanna go home.”

your childhood friend scratched the back of his neck. “my car is headed to the karaoke place though…”

you gave him your best puppy eyes, clasping your hands together like you’re praying. “please drop me off first?”

before jake could even respond, sunghoon stepped forward, unable to hide the quiet eagerness in his voice. 

“i can take you home.”

you turned to sunghoon with a slightly surprised but grateful expression. “are you sure?” 

“yup,” sunghoon nodded, trying to sound casual. “it’s uh… getting late for me too.”

haewon immediately pouted. “aw please, you never go to sleep right away anyway! who’s gonna play the bells while i sing, then?”

jake laughed, covering up haewon’s mouth. “i’m here, let them go home, already.”

you giggled, smiling softly at sunghoon. “thanks, sunghoon.”

the four of you exchanged quick goodbyes. sunghoon waved at jake and haewon—then jake pulled you into a hug. his arms wrapped around your waist.

“get home safe, okay?”

“mmhm, i will,” you murmured against his shoulder before pulling away.

sunghoon watched the hug a second longer than necessary, jaw tightening just slightly before he looked away.

——

the drive was quiet at first.

it wasn’t the first time sunghoon had ever driven you home, but every time he did—it always started quiet. like the two of you were giving yourselves some room to get comfortable. you sat in the passenger seat of his sedan, the streetlights casting patterns across your face.

in the smallness of the car, the alcohol had clearly hit you harder now. your movements were a little more abrupt, head occasionally leaning against the window as you stared off into the passing scenery and stores. your words started to slur just a tiny bit at the edges.

after a few minutes of silence, you turned your head toward him.

“oh, right… haewon told me about your cat,” you began, voice softer now, laced with sympathy. “i know it’s kinda iffy to hear it from someone else but… i just wanted to let you know i’m sorry about your cat.”

sunghoon’s hands tightened slightly on the steering wheel. he kept his eyes on the road.

“oh… no, no, it’s okay,” he replied quietly. “i mean… it’s not okay, but i don’t think it’s fully hit me yet.”

you nodded slowly, blinking a few times like you were trying to focus. you knew how much his cat meant to him—based on the amount of times he’s talked about it. “well… you can call me when it does. if you want. i’m here.”

sunghoon glanced at you for a brief second. even drunk and sleepy, you were still looking at him with that gentle care that always made his chest feel tight. 

“i know,” he said, flashing you a soft smile. “thanks.”

the quiet hum of the engine filled the car again before sunghoon spoke again. “oh, i got you something… but only after you tell me what you wanted to say.”

your eyes widened and you turned to look at him. the mood in the car shifted slightly. “you bought me something? you shouldn’t have—wait, why am i kinda nervous?”

sunghoon chuckled awkwardly, his eyebrows’ slightly pinched in slight confusion. “i don’t know. why is that a reaction?”

you scoffed playfully, shaking your head. “um—anyway, it’s nothing really,” you said, voice slightly slurred. “just wanted to tell you i put my two weeks in.”

the boy glanced at you, eyebrows furrowing slightly. “you told me that on the phone though?”

you let out a small, awkward laugh and nodded, looking out the window for a second. “i know… i just wanted to say it again in person.”

sunghoon didn’t buy it. it was obvious on his face—the slight tightening in his jaw, the way his eyes narrowed just a fraction. there was something more—he knew it. felt it. but before he could press further, you said something.

“also… you know my friend sieun?” you turned to look at him, trying to sound casual. “what do you think of her?” 

his grip on the steering wheel tightened a little. sieun? sieun park? your bestfriend? “...nothing? i don’t really talk to her aside from our rehearsal time. why?”

you smiled, humming. “well… what do you feel about her?”

sunghoon chuckled softly, glancing at you before his eyes drifted ahead. “you’re asking how i feel about her? like, if i like her?”

“just wonderin’ cause…” you shrugged, still looking out the window for a moment before turning back to him with a small, tipsy smile. “she likes you. and i think… you guys would be cute together.”

the words hit him harder than they should have.

sunghoon’s expression shifted—a flash of surprise, followed by something sharper, almost pained, and irritated. his crush—the girl he’d been liking for months—was trying to set him up with someone else. the irony burned.

“what?” he let out a short, disbelieving laugh. “that’s kinda silly. she doesn’t even know me. i don’t even know her.”

“well, maybe it’s time to get to know her then,” you replied lightly with a smile. as if it was the most obvious solution in the world. sunghoon swallowed. his chest felt tight. 

“i don’t… i don’t like her like that.”

there was a beat of silence. at the emphasis, you tilted your head, watching him with those soft, slightly unfocused eyes. 

“oh. so you have someone you like, then?”

sunghoon’s heart fluttered. he kept his eyes fixed on the road, then he glanced at you before replying. “yeah… i guess so.”

the air in the car suddenly felt a bit heavier—it was hard for you to grasp it in your drunken condition, but you knew enough not to push it further, just hummed quietly and leaned your head against the headrest.

sunghoon’s mind was racing.

how could you say that so easily? how could you just… tried to set him up with another…?

then, you turned your head to look at him again. “actually, i never thought you would have someone you like. you’re just so… composed and to yourself. it’s hard to figure you out.”

sunghoon gave a small, self–deprecating smile.

“well, i’m not exactly an open book when you wanna get to know me.”

still smiling, you replied, “i think you still are.”

a laugh escaped both of you at the same time—a little awkward, but it managed to ease the tension for a moment. sunghoon’s fingers tapped once against the steering wheel. he hesitated, then asked the question that had been burning in his chest since the starter of the conversation.

“what about you? do you have someone you like?”

you went quiet for a second, then nodded slowly. “i think so, yeah…” your voice was softer now, almost shy. “but i don’t think it’s reciprocated. or it is—i’m not sure.”

sunghoon’s heart picked up speed. so you have someone you like too. sunghoon wondered who it was—that lucky motherfucker. he tried to keep his voice steady.

“does he know you like him?” you shook your head, a small, embarrassed smile tugging at your lips. 

“no, i don’t think so. i get really… shy? around someone i like. so, yeah. if i like someone, nobody will know.”

the silence that followed was nothing like what’s in sunghoon’s mind. every word you said twisted something deep inside him—hope, frustration, and ache all at one. he wanted so badly to ask who it was.

he didn’t.

sunghoon didn’t even confess, yet it felt like he was already rejected. 

or maybe he never stood a chance.

“oh—well, we’re here.” sunghoon murmured as he pulled up in front of your grandmother’s house. you unbuckled your seatbelt, gathering your things. just as you were about to thank him and step out, sunghoon spoke again.

“oh yeah, um… do you have a partner for the end of the year party yet? or are you even coming? ‘cause i’m performing.” 

you paused, hand already at the handle, and turned back to him with a small smile. “oh yes, yeah. at jay’s house, right? i’m planning to ask jaeyun if he wants to come with me.”

sunghoon’s expression froze. 

i love you, jaeyun.

“...jake?”

“yeah. who else?” you replied, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

it’s always him.

the words left his mouth before he could stop them.

“do you like him?”

you blinked, a little confused by the sudden shift in his tone. your eyebrows pinched in confusion, and your head’s slightly tilted. “yeah…? jake’s my bestfriend…”

sunghoon’s jaw tightened. his voice came out lower, edged with something bitter. “...cause i’m pretty sure he likes liz.”

you stared at him for a second, the playful mood from earlier completely gone. it felt like the two of you were autumn. cold and warm air clashing, shifting from sunny to stormy, windy, and freezing in a matter of minutes.

“ah… okay? why are you telling me this?”

the words came out faster than his brain allowed them to. sunghoon shifted in his seat. “i don’t think he’s good for you. i mean… jake’s great as a friend, but he’s kind of all over the place. he doesn’t really commit to anything. one day he’s all in, the next he’s distracted by something new. i just don’t think he’d treat you—”

“sunghoon, stop.”

your voice was firm. sharp. 

you looked up at him with a frown—in confusion, disbelief, and disrespect that he just said that to your face. you gripped your purse tighter on your lap.

“he’s your friend. why are you saying all these things—? i don’t like this at all. you know how close we are.”

the silence that followed was heavy and awkward. 

you unbuckled your seatbelt quickly and opened the car door. “i’m going to pretend like i didn’t hear this at all.” before stepping out, you turned back to him one last time, expression tight and clearly, clearly, disappointed. 

“i’m really uncomfortable with you saying all this about jaeyun. um… thanks for the ride, anyway. goodnight.”

you closed the door with a soft but firm click and walked toward your house without looking back. sunghoon sat frozen in the driver’s seat for a second, staring at your retreating figure. 

“wait—fuck… shit…” he muttered under his breath. he quickly pressed the button to roll down the passenger window. “yn—!” he called out, but you had already disappeared. the door shut behind you with a thud.

the street fell silent again.

sunghoon leaned back heavily against the headrest, dragging both hands down his face. 

“what the fuck did i do…” he whispered to the empty car. “why did i do that… ugh, i’m so fucking dumb…”

his heart was pounding. the jealousy he wasn’t able to control that had been simmering all day had boiled over in the worst way possible. he’d badmouth his own bestfriend—jake, of all people—in front of you. the one person whose opinion mattered most to him. 

sunghoon groaned, tilting his head back and closing his eyes. 

“she’s never gonna look at me the same way again… fuck.”

the silence in the car felt suffocating. this was the most the car has been through since the last years sunghoon got it from his dad. his chest was tight, regret clawing at him from the inside. he needed something—anything—to take the edge off.

why the fuck did i say that? 

sunghoon knew why.

he reached down toward the glove box where he usually kept his pack of cigarettes. his slender fingers fumbled blindly in the dark, brushing against the small box before he fished it out without thinking. 

instead of his dark marlboro pack—it was a white box instead.

one wish willow. 

the illustration of the glowing branch stared back at him. the tagline at the bottom suddenly felt louder than it had in the shop. 

wishes do come true. be careful what you ask for.

oh. he was supposed to give this to you. 

sunghoon’s thumb brushed over the smooth packaging. his mind was still reeling of annoyance, disappointment, and that ugly twist of jealousy all mixing together. the way you defended jake so quickly. the way you looked at him with discomfort and disappointment before getting out of the car. the way you wanted to ask jake to go with you to the party.

his chest felt tight. his jaw clenched. if he were to keep and give it to you later, what would change? it won’t magically get rid of tonight.

sunghoon’s fingers tightened around the box, he turned it over and read the instructions printed on the back in that minimalistic, fun, red font:

usage:

hold the one wish willow gently with both hands. 

state your wish clearly and with intention.

break in half.

disposal: after granting your wish, the one wish willow loses its magical properties.

sunghoon mouthed the words as he read them, almost scoffing under his breath. 

he looked up toward the front door of your house, the porch lights still on. 

“as if…” he muttered, half bitter, half exhausted.

but his hands didn’t put the box down.

in the silence of the car, with the weight of the night pressing down and all the emotions came washing down upon him—sunghoon opened the box and held the small twig in both thumbs and indexes. 

wishes do come true.

be careful who you ask for.

his voice came out low, raw, and half–serious.

“i wish yn ln loved me more than anyone else in the fucking world.”

crack.

sunghoon broke the one wish willow in half. 

the sound was small and almost insignificant. like it was… nothing. a toy. a faint shimmer of something—dust? light? glitter?—seemed to sparkle for a split second before disappearing into thin air. 

sunghoon let out a drag, shaky breath and rested his forehead against the steering wheel, eyes closed.

the broken pieces of the willow sat in his lap.

a beat passed.

then a second.

then a whole minute.

nothing happened.

sunghoon let out a bitter scoff, tossing the broken pieces of the one wish willow onto the passenger seat. he wasn’t sure what he was hoping for—he bought it at a fuckin’ crystal toy store for fucks sakes. 

“fuck it,” he muttered. “should’ve known it was a scam anyway.”

he reached for the gear shift, ready to drive off—when a soft knock came from the passenger window.

shit—

sunghoon froze. through the glass, he saw the upper half of your body just standing there by his car. frowning slightly in confusion, he slowly rolled down the window.

it took you a few seconds to crouch down smoothly, elbows resting on the open window frame so your face was level with his. your eyes looked… different. not completely wrong, but off. a little too intense? a little too focused.

like something behind them was watching him more closely than usual.

you were probably still disappointed and bothered by it—and wanted to give sunghoon another warning. 

“uh, yn… hey,” sunghoon said, swallowing the lump in his throat. “i just… i just had to pull up directions.”

you didn’t respond right away. you just looked at him for a long second, head slightly tilted.

“you said you had something for me?” your voice was soft, almost too soft.

oh, crap—sunghoon glanced at the broken willow twig on the passenger seat. thank god it was so dark that you didn’t notice it. “oh yeah, i uh… i left it at my house.”

the silence that followed felt heavy. 

you visibly deflated a little, eyes dropping. “oh… okay…”

the quiet stretched. your fingers started tapping lightly on the window frame—slow, rhythmic, almost absentminded. the movement felt a little too precise. a little too repetitive. it’s almost like you didn’t want to get back inside.

sunghoon’s stomach twisted.

“i can bring it to work tomorrow…” he offered quietly, smiling.

you blinked slowly, then gave him a small nod. “um… okay…”

your voice dragged just slightly at the end. you stayed crouched there for another second, staring at him with the same unnervingly focused gaze. sunghoon swallowed the lump in his throat nervously, licking his lips. 

“well—uh, goodnight yn.” 

“wait, actually…” you tilted your head, eyes still locked on him. “um, i think you could use some company tonight. i mean, i did just lose my cat—”

sunghoon frowned. “...you lost your cat?”

you blinked again, like a glitch had passed through your expression. you shook your head, then quickly corrected yourself. “oh wait, i mean you lost your cat. i’m sorry… i’m so sorry for your loss.” your voice softened, but there was something oddly eager beneath. “what should we—are you—do you wanna come inside?”

sunghoon stared at you, visibly confused. his eyes flicked for a split second to the broken piece of the one wish willow. 

could it be…

“... are you okay?” 

you smiled—soft, almost too sweet. “are you okay?”

“yeah, i’m okay,” he answered slowly. 

“well… why don’t you come inside?” you offered again, fingers still lightly tapping the window frame. “we can—you know, talk about your cat and have a few drinks together.”

the invitation hung in the air. your eyes never left his face.

sunghoon rubbed his temple, trying to make sense of the situation. “yn, i’m a little confused…” he chuckled softly, dry. “i think you’re drunk.”

“no, i’m not,” you said quickly, almost defensively. “really.”

he sighed softly. “just… get some sleep, okay?”

that threw you off. 

“no, no, no.” you stood abruptly, crossing your arms over your chest. your posture was stiff, almost childlike in its stubbornness. “i know what you’re trying to do.”

sunghoon blinked. “what—?”

you didn’t answer. instead, you reached for the door handle, pulled it open, and slid back into the seat without warning. you sat directly on the broken pieces, the twig crunching faintly beneath you. 

“you’re trying to get rid of me,” you said, voice low but strangely intense, eyes fixed on him again.

sunghoon’s heart jumped. 

“what? no, no, no—” he stammered, hands lifting slightly in surrender and defense. he could never get rid of you as hard as he tried to. “i just—i just think you’re not in your right head right now.”

you pouted—a soft, almost childish expression crossing your face as you leaned over and pressed your cheek against the dashboard, eyes still locked on him.

sunghoon thought you were cute.

“i promise you i am…” you murmured. “i just… i feel really bad about your cat. you know how much i love cats, right? i don’t want you to be alone. and honestly… i don’t want to be alone either.”

sunghoon’s chest tightened. the way you said it—so vulnerable, so sincere. especially when you barely opened up to him like you did to jake—made something inside him soften despite his brain’s ringing warning bells.

“why? is everything okay?”

you stayed quiet for a moment, cheek still resting against the cool surface. then your voice came out smaller. “well… i don’t think my grandmother wants me around anymore…”

the words hit him harder than expected. your grandmother—? the same one who had been taking care of you since infancy? didn’t want you around anymore? you looked so small like this—curled slightly in his passenger seat, eyes glassy. sunghoon felt a strong wave of sympathy washing over him.

“oh… what? i—i’m sorry, yn… do you, um… wanna talk about it?”

you shook your head slowly, still not lifting your cheek from the dashboard.

“...not here.”

——

sunghoon wasn’t sure if you eventually convinced him, or if he convinced himself to let you come inside. 

the two of you walked into his house. the moment the door closed behind you, you looked around with wide, curious eyes. 

“your house is so nice…” you whispered, almost reverent as you took off your flats by the door. sunghoon rubbed the back of his neck, suddenly self–conscious. had he known he was going to have you over—

“i like it here.”

he glanced at the lotion bottle on the coffee table.

“oh, thanks… it’s your first time here, right? i’m sorry if it’s not really that clean… i wasn’t expecting company tonight so—”

he didn’t even get to finish his sentence.

while sunghoon was still talking, you had already wandered off toward the kitchen like you knew your way around. that gave him the time to put the bottle somewhere else though. you stopped in the middle of the room, closing your eyes and breathing in deeply. 

“it smells like you.” you said softly.

sunghoon froze by the kitchen arch. 

“...me? like… bad?”

you turned to him with a small, dreamy smile and shook your head.

“no. it’s nice. i like it.”

warmth bloomed and spread through his chest despite everything. sunghoon had forgotten about the whole incident that happened in front of your house. he cleared his throat. 

“yn,” he paused, trying to regain some control of the situation. “you need some sleep, okay? i’ll get you some water.”

sunghoon moved toward the fridge, but you stayed standing in the middle of his kitchen, watching his every move with that same unnervingly soft gaze. sunghoon poured you a glass of cold water, standing in front of you as he held it up.

“here.”

you looked up to him. instead of taking it in your own hands, you wrapped your hands around his’ and brought the glass to your lips, taking a sip. 

a few minutes later, the two of you were in his bedroom.

you sat on the edge of his bed, still fully clothed, one leg hanging off the side, the other folded beneath your weight. sunghoon lingered in the doorway, like a father bidding goodnight. 

“i’m sorry if i was being weird earlier,” you said quietly. your finger traced the hem of your midi skirt. “i don’t know what was wrong with me.”

“it’s okay,” sunghoon replied, smiling. his voice gentle. “you don’t have to explain it. you’ve been through a lot, so just take all the time that you need, alright?”

you nodded slowly, looking small on his bed.

sunghoon looked around, unsure what to do before he reached over and turned off the main light switch, leaving only the tall floor lamp by the end of the room. the warm, dim lighting cast long shadows across the walls.

he was about to say goodnight and leave when your voice stopped him.

“wait.”

sunghoon turned back.

“will you sleep with me?”

sunghoon froze. “what?” 

he looked at the state of you on his bed—slightly disheveled, looking a bit like a pretty mess. “i don’t think i should…” 

you looked up at him, eyes wide and pleading. “please… i can’t be alone right now. i’ll get in my head if i’m in here by myself.”

a beat passed.

sunghoon felt a heavy wave of guilt and unsure–rity settled in his chest. he exhaled slowly.

“...yeah. i can do that.”

he kicked off his home slippers by the door. you didn’t waste a single second either—started undressing right there and then, peeling off your top and skirt. sunghoon quickly looked away out of respect, but the mirror in front of his bed betrayed him. he caught the reflection of your body as you stripped down to just your underwear. 

his throat tightened.

he wasn’t complaining. 

shit… your covered breasts behind your white bra was even better than your bare tits in his dream. sunghoon loved the fats in your body, the little, subtle childhood scars and marks. 

when you were done, he turned around and approached the bed slowly. sunghoon reached out and softly touched your arm, almost like he was making sure you were real and on his bed. you gently pulled him toward you.

the two of you ended up sitting against the headboard. he stiffened as you immediately curled into his side, placing your head on his shoulder and nuzzling closer, almost like a cat seeking warmth. one of your legs draped lightly over his as you got comfortable, letting out a soft, content hum.

“i needed this,” you whispered, voice low and breathy against his neck. 

sunghoon’s heart fluttered. he couldn’t contain his smile. “really?”

“mmhm…” you rubbed your cheek against his shoulder in a slow, affectionate motion. “i’m sorry about your cat again…” 

there was something almost feline in the way you moved—slow, seeking constant contact. you pressed closer, tits flushed against his bicep. it was like you wanted to melt to him, fingers tracing patterns on his chest like marking territory. 

sunghoon swallowed hard, one arm hesitantly wrapping around you. 

you shifted slightly, then gently took his chin between your pretty fingers and tilted his face toward yours. your eyes were half–lidded, lips parted as you leaned in.

sunghoon’s breath hitched. 

“wait—” he whispered, pulling back just slightly. “i… i think you’re drunk.”

you shook your head slowly, still holding his chin. your voice was soft, but steady. “i’m not. i promise.”

he gazed into your eyes. in the warm lamplight, they looked darker, deeper, almost… bottomless. for the first time, he saw—really saw—his reflection in your eyes and realised how much he had wanted this. 

how long sunghoon had ached for you. how badly he had needed you to look at him like this. all the longing, jealousy, nights thinking of you—it was at this moment that worthed it all. 

sunghoon must’ve been the easiest man ever—

he succumbed.

he leaned in and kissed you—slow at first, then deeper and more passionate. his hand slid to the back of your neck, pulling you closer as his lips moved against yours with pent–up hunger. the kiss was hungry and desperate and full of everything he’d kept to himself.

you melted into it immediately, letting out a soft, needy sound against his mouth as your fingers curled into his shirt.

the two of you kissed. and kissed.

and the longer it went on, the more desperate it became. you climbed onto his lap, straddling him as your hands cupped his face. sunghoon’s hands roamed your back, pulling you closer, tugging onto the clasps of your bra.

he’s so lost in the heat of everything he’d wanted for so long.

his fingers gently touched the side of your neck.

and something in you snapped.

your eyes flew open. so wide it almost popped out of your socket. for a split second, the hazy, overly affectionate version of you vanished. you realised you were kissing sunghoon. half–naked. in his bed.

terror flooded your expression.

you shoved him back hard, scrambling off his lap and falling backward onto the floor with a loud thud. your back hit the floor.

“sunghoon—oh my god!” you gasped, eyes wide with horror as you stared up at him from the ground. 

sunghoon looked completely panicked, frozen at where he was. “what?! what, what?! holy shit?!”

you sat up quickly, covering your chest with your arms, face burning with embarrassment. “oh my gosh, i’m so sorry! i’m so sorry—!”

“you kissed me!” sunghoon blurted out, voice cracking slightly. 

“i know!” 

the terror on your face melted away into an apologetic look. you stayed on the floor for  a moment, blinking up at him with wide, watery eyes. “i’m sorry… i’m so sorry…” you kept whispering, voice small.

sunghoon’s heart was beating so fast—still in shock, breathing hard.

“no, shit—what was that?!”

you flinched at his tone. “don’t yell at me… i don’t know… i thought i saw something!”

your eyes welled up with tears. the sudden switch made you emotionally raw, and the sudden outburst from him broke something in you. your lips trembled as tears started falling down your cheeks. 

sunghoon’s anger and confusion immediately crumbled into guilt. 

“...hey…” he quickly got off the bed and crouched down, gently pulling you up from the floor. “i’m sorry, i didn’t mean to yell.”

you let him lift you, still sniffing. “i really don’t know… it's a panic attack, i—i panicked.”

he sat back on the edge of the bed and pulled you into his lap like a baby—one arm wrapped around your back, the other cradling your head as he tucked you into his chest. 

“i—it’s okay, i was just—” he murmured, rubbing slow circles on your back. “i was just surprised… cause you kissed me first.”

you curled into him, burying your face in his neck, still letting out soft, hiccuping sobs. your arms wrapped tightly around him like you were afraid he’d disappear. sunghoon held you close, heart still racing.

when sunghoon felt your body relaxed, he kissed the top of your head.

“don’t do that next time…”

——

the next day at work felt strangely normal.

you and sunghoon stepped into the video rental store together after arriving at the same time—having rode the same car and all. the bell above chimed as you both entered. 

“oh, right. can i stay—”

before you could finish your sentence, the store manager, kim, appeared from the sides and immediately grabbed your arm, pulling you aside. “yn! i don’t know how many times i have to tell people we don’t sell porn here—”

the rest of her sentence was cut off as she dragged you away.

sunghoon barely had the time to process everything before jake popped right in front of him like a damn jack in the box. 

“ooooohhh?” jake grinned, wiggling suggestively. 

sunghoon’s eyes widened. “breakroom. breakroom. breakroom.”

he turned jake around and shoved his friend toward the staff breakroom just behind the entrance wall. once they were out of sight, jake turned on him. 

“what happened last night?”

sunghoon ran a hand through his hair, exhaling sharply. he tasted the words on the tip of his tongue, unsure how to put it in words. last night was… to blame on the alcohol. 

“you wouldn’t believe me.”

jake’s eyes widened. he couldn’t believe it—his childhood friend, and his bestfriend—that had been liking you for so long. finally—?

“you guys FUCKED?”

sunghoon’s eyes widened, and he was quick to slap a hand over jake’s mouth, muffling the loud exclamation. “oh my gosh, keep it down!” sunghoon hissed, glancing nervously around the room. “and no… we didn’t.”

jake pulled sunghoon’s hand off his mouth, looking suspicious. “then what the hell happened? you didn’t update us at all last night, and now you’re coming to work together? something’s fishy.”

sunghoon leaned against the doorway, crossing his arms. “we just… we just slept together, that’s all.”

jake raised an eyebrow. “huh, okay.” then he grinned again. 

“well… how was she?”

“um, i don’t know…” sunghoon hesitated, looking visibly conflicted. “she’s… she’s acting weird last night.”

“weird? how?”

sunghoon paused, recalling the night in fragments. after the thing… that happened, sunghoon cuddled you to sleep, and you woke up the next day just fine. he dropped you off at your house to change, waited outside, then drove the two of you to work.

“well, first she said her grandma’s kicking her out.”

jake’s face instantly shifted from playful to shocked. “no way?” his voice dropped. “she’s been living with her grandma since we were kids. what happened?”

“i don’t know,” sunghoon admitted, shrugging. “we didn’t talk about it last night. but… she’s having like, this mental breakdown. she’d freak out one second, then be all happy and clingy the next, then start crying. it was… weird. really weird.”

jake stared at him, processing everything.

“damn… that doesn’t sound like her at all.”

sunghoon nodded slowly, a heavy feeling settling in his stomach. 

a beat of silence passed between them. 

“you think she’s on… molly again…?”

jake frowned deeply, crossing his arms. “she’s been sober for almost a year. she has no reason to… unless because of her grandma, that is.”  

“shit, maybe,” sunghoon muttered, rubbing his face. “i don’t know how to ask her though.”

“i’ll do it then,” jake said without hesitation. if anything, it’s weird jake didn’t know about it. you’d always come to him firsthand. sunghoon glanced toward the breakroom door, suddenly paranoid. 

“is she still staring?”

jake darted his eyes toward the entrance, peeking through the small gap in the door. he’s met with the sight of you standing behind the cashier machine, body looking forward, but head’s turned towards where jake and sunghoon’s conversation was taking place.

you were smiling.

“yeah.”

——

jake drove you home after work.

the moment he got back to his apartment, sunghoon dropped his bag, kicked off his shoes, and went straight to his computer. he opened a browser and typed into the search bar: does the one wish willow actually work?

u/sorrowfull: no it’s an urban legend. my cousin swore it worked but he was just high as fuck lol.

u/rik999: yeah it really granted a wish for me back in 2023!

u/godaddy: it’s not supposed to be used. my dad still has it unopened till now cause it’s just a collector thing. 

u/xuser: don’t even play with that thing lol i wished for braces cos my teeth was fucked and now theyre PERFECT

u/tickdrip: placebo effect at best. one can try though. 

sunghoon stared at the screen, conflicted and confused. he licked his lips, index finger tapping on the mouse like he wasn’t sure what to do with it. with a heavy sigh, he eventually shut his laptop, rubbing his face.

what the hell am i even doing…

for all he knew, his wish didn’t even come true, and it was just a coincidence. maybe you had a change of mind. maybe you finally had the courage to tell him you liked him. maybe—

knock knock. 

sunghoon whipped his head toward the door. it’s almost eleven, and he wasn’t expecting anyone at this hour. regardless, he walked over and opened it.

you—

you were standing there in a thin spaghetti strap black dress that hugged your figure beautifully, full makeup done perfectly—glossy lips, soft eyeshadow, curled lashes, flushed cheeks, the works. you looked stunning—it genuinely took him aback for a second.

“hi, hoonie,” you said softly, a shy smile on your face. 

“...yn? what’s up?” where are you going?” he asked, still a little stunned. 

you fidgeted with the hem of your dress, looking nervous. “i didn’t know what to wear…”

“what do you mean?”

you bit your lip, clearly nervous. 

“i—i’m really sorry about last night. jake told me what happened… you were freaked out—”

“no, no, it’s okay, yn!” sunghoon said quickly, waving his hands in front of him. you looked so cute and he was way too down to even regard everything last night as odd. even if it was. 

you stayed in the doorway for a moment, then swallowed the lump in your throat. “i probably shouldn’t have taken anything…”

a beat.

sunghoon blinked. “huh?”

you looked up at him. the outside light behind you made your eyes look darker than it already was. “yeah… i, um, i was on mdma and i was drunk. but i promise… no more.”

“right, okay…” sunghoon said slowly, trying to process everything. he knew you’d taken drugs before, but he never knew it was this bad. “well, do you remember… stuff?”

you stayed quiet for a second, eyes lowered. 

“most of it, yeah,” you finally answered. “if i was weird… it was because of the stuff i’m going through. i didn’t mean it…”

sunghoon’s eyes narrowed with a clear disappointment. your gaze shifted, a flicker of concern crossing your face as you noticed his reaction. 

he looked away for a moment. 

“...oh. okay.”

you took a small step closer.

“also… i want to be transparent about some things."

sunghoon’s heart spiked. out of pure fear—fear of being rejected, fear of hearing you say it was all a mistake, that you didn’t mean any of it, that you two should just go back to being friends and nothing more, or worse stopped being friends at all—

he quickly cut in.

“you don’t have to explain—”

“i know you like me.”

the words hit him like a truck.

sunghoon froze, quickly thrown off.

“no—i—why? what?”

your face dropped instantly. the hopeful, nervous expression you’d been wearing shattered into something vulnerable and raw, like you’d… just been rejected on the spot.

then, after a heavy beat of silence and unspoken things, sunghoon began, voice quieter. 

“...do you like me?”

you looked up at him, eyes soft and vulnerable. 

“would it freak you out if i said yes?”

a long beat passed. 

it was an oddly romantic moment—the kind you only see in movies. sunghoon stared at you, completely caught off guard. his lips parted slightly in surprise. then, slowly, a shy, disbelieving smile spread across his face as he let out a soft chuckle, almost like he couldn’t believe this was real. 

he rubbed the back of his neck, voice quiet.

“how long have you felt this way?”

you shifted on your feet, nervous but honest. “it happened over time… maybe with all the time we hung out, and by the time i knew it, i just—” you looked at him, head tilted, searching his face. 

“don’t you have feelings for me?”

sunghoon covered his mouth with his hand for a second, shy and overwhelmed. this was the moment he had dreamed about for so long—late nights wondering if you’d ever look at him the way he looked at you, replaying every small interaction in his head, wishing for exactly…

this.

“yeah,” he finally admitted. “i do.”

your face softened. you stepped closer, gently tugged the front of his shirt, and wrapped your arms around him. sunghoon didn’t hesitate. he hugged your back tightly, one arm around your waist, the other cradling the back of your head. you stood there in the doorway, holding each other like the world didn’t exist.

after a long moment, he pulled back just enough to whisper against your hair, 

“do you wanna sleep over tonight?”

——

sunghoon slammed you against the wall, kissing you fiercely. all the months of longing, stolen glances, and quiet admiration poured out in that single moment. his mouth was hungry, desperate, claiming yours like he’d been starving for you. 

his hands roamed your body—one gripping your waist, the other sliding up your thigh, pushing the hem of your black dress higher. 

“ah, babe—” you moaned into his mouth, hands fisting his shirt as you kissed him back just as desperately. the pent–up lust between you was explosive. sunghoon groaned, grinding against you as he pulled the top of your dress along with your bra, exposing your pretty tits. 

his mouth left yours to trail hot, open–mouthed kisses down your neck, then lower, sucking and biting at your skin while his hands squeezed and caressed your perky nipples. 

you arched into him, gasping, fingers tangled in his locks.

“f—fuck, hoonie…”

sunghoon was losing himself completely—the way you tasted, the way you sounded, the way your body responded to every touch. he wanted to devour you. whole and full. wanted to mark you. wanted you to be his in every possible way.

then, mid–moan, your pearly eyes locked with his.

your eyes widened like it was going to bulge out—expression shifted to sheer panic.

with a frantic shove, you pushed him hard. sunghoon stumbled backward onto the bed as you let out a blood–curling scream, body trembling violently. almost instantly, you hugged your body, colour drained from your body. 

“sunghoon, what the fuck?!”

he remained on the bed, shocked and unfazed for a split second—still breathing hard, lips swollen from kissing you. your lipstick stained the corner of his lips.

but within moments, the switch flipped again.

you crawled on top of him like nothing had happened, straddling his waist and sitting on his stomach. your wetness through your thin panties rubbed against his skin as you leaned down and kissed him again, deep and possessive—like you couldn’t bear even a second of separation. 

sunghoon didn’t question it. the disturbance registered as nothing more than a fleeting inconvenience.

you pulled back just enough to whisper against his lips, 

“sorry, baby…”

sunghoon smiled, hands sliding up your thighs, lifting up your dress until the pooled around your waist.

“it’s okay, baby,” he murmured, voice husky. “molly effect, hm?”

you giggled softly, nuzzling into his neck like a contented critter—pressing warm kisses along his jaw. 

the two of you kissed again—slower this time, but no less hungry. your hands roamed his chest, then lower, until you slid down between his knees. sunghoon’s breath hitched as you settled on the floor in front of him, looking up at him with those dark, adoring eyes.

sunghoon couldn’t believe this was happening.

you reached for his belt, undoing it with clumsy but eager fingers. when you freed him—his cock was curvy and at a perfect size, if not slightly bigger, for a lean man like sunghoon. it throbbed visibly in the air between you, the tip already glistening with beads of precum.

“s—shit, baby, look how hard you made me…”

you smiled, leaning to press a soft kiss to the tip first, almost reverent. your lips brushed against the sensitive head as you murmured, warm air hitting the slit. 

“you’re so big…”

you kept kissing the tip tenderly like it’s his lips—then dragged your tongue slowly across it, licking up the beads of precum with a soft, satisfied hum. the taste of him seemed to spur you on. you opened your mouth wider and took him in—slow at first, letting your tongue swirl around the head before sinking down further. 

sunghoon let out a low groan, head falling back for a second. “fuck…” 

his hand gently threading through your hair as you worked him with passionate, wet strokes. your mouth was hot and eager, sucking with just the right amount of pressure while your hand stroked what you couldn't fit. you moaned around him, the vibrations sending up sparks up his spine. 

“fuck… just like that, baby…” he whispered, hips twitching slightly but holding back, letting you set the pace. you looked up at him through your lashes, eyes watery but full of devotion as you took him deeper—hollowing your cheeks and bobbing your head. 

then, you pulled back just enough to catch a breather—lips glossy. 

“i’ve never done this before…”

sunghoon’s eyes widened, breath ragged.

“at all?”

you tilted your head, a small, hazy smile on your face. your hands continued to jerk him off back and forth, catching your own slicky saliva on your grip. 

“mmm… i think so?”

there was a strange, fleeting disconnect in your works—like your memories were clashing with one another. but sunghoon was too far gone to question it. 

you leaned back in, taking him deeper again. the wet heat of your mouth, the way you moaned around him, the way you looked up at him like pleasing him was the only thing that mattered was overwhelming. 

his breathing grew heavier, low groans slipping out as you worked him with sensual devotion. 

sunghoon’s breathing grew heavier. low, broken groans slipped from his throat as your head bobbed, tongue swirling around the underside of his cock while your hand stroked the base. every so often you’d pull back to kiss and lick the wet tip, almost in a teasing manner before sinking down again.

“baby,” he rasped, fingers tightening in your hair. “you’re so good at this… feels so fucking good.”

the sight of you on your knees, lips stretched around him, tits wet with your drippy saliva—it was better than any dream he’d had. imagining this exact moment, paled in comparison to the real thing—he was losing himself completely. 

his hips started twitching, thighs sensing as pleasure coiled tighter and tiger in his tummy. “hngh—baby…” he groaned, voice strained. “i need to be inside you.”

sunghoon pulled you up slightly with a wet pop, lips shiny and swollen. without a word, you climbed back onto the bed and laid down, pulling him on top of you.

he hovered over you, drinking in the sight. you looked breathtaking underneath him—flushed cheeks, swollen lips, hair fanned out prettily on his pillow, black dress bunched around your waist. your tits rose and fell with every quick breath, nipples hardened from arousal. your legs spread for him, panties pushed to the side. 

“you’re so beautiful,” he whispered, voice thick with emotion as he positioned the head of his cock at your entrance. “i’ve been wanting to tell you that for so long.”

you giggled shyly,  biting your lip as you looked up at him.

“come on… love me.”

“i do love you,” sunghoon breathed. 

then he pushed in. 

the first thrust was slow but deep, stretching you open around his curved length. you gasped, back arching slightly as he bottomed out. sunghoon groaned, forehead pressing against yours. 

“fuck… you’re so tight.” 

you moaned softly, nails digging into his shoulders.

“you’re my first—oh gosh, you’re my first…”

that single sentence sent a bolt of raw heat through him. sunghoon’s hips snapped forward harder, fucking you deeper strokes. the thought that he was your first—that no one else had ever had you like this—made something primal inside him snap.

he thrusted harder, the sound of skin slapping skin filling the room along with your moans and his groans. 

 it was going good—your pussy was tight and heavenly, and sunghoon had never felt a hold other than his hand so good like this. but then—

you suddenly laughed—a bright, almost delirious sound—and tilted your head back, arching your back as pleasure overtook you.

it freaked sunghoon out a little.

your body convulsed underneath him as uncontrollable giggles spilled from your lips. your eyes rolled back, whites showing for a terrifying second, like you found this whole situation fucking hilarous. 

it was wrong. inhumane, almost. 

his hand shot up instinctively, wrapping around your throat—not hard enough to hurt, but firm enough to pin you down and stop the violent twitching. 

“no, no… don’t do that, baby,” he rasped, still buried deep inside you, hips faltering for a moment. “stay with me—look at me.”

the laughter cut off abruptly.

your body went still. then your eyes rolled back into place, focusing on him again. the eerie, too–wide smile slowly softened back into normal. the smile he loved so much. sunghoon’s cock tip then kissed the gummy spot inside you, eliciting a soft moan from your lips.

“hngh—!” you gasped, eyes momentarily shut in pleasure before they opened again, finding his—but not entirely looking. 

“...sorry, baby,” you whispered sweetly, blinking.

      part two of two

ㅤ© ⌞hoonkitti⌝ ⁞ all rights reservedㅤ please don't share, copy, or translate my work.

the two of you were making breakfast together in his kitchen. you stood behind him while he cooked eggs,  arms wrapped around his bare waist, chin resting on his shoulders as you hummed. every few seconds you’d press a kiss to his neck or cheek.

sunghoon laughed softly when you stole a piece of fruit from the cutting board.

“you’re gonna eat everything before it’s done, baby,” he teased, squeezing your hands on his tummy. you giggled and kissed his jaw, pressing you chest against his back.

“can’t help it… you look so cute when you’re cooking.”

you both ended up eating at the counter—you sitting on the top and sunghoon standing in between your legs as you fed him pieces of bacon. he laughed at how cute you looked, and you giggled at his terrible jokes.

it felt domestic.

at work, you two couldn’t keep your hands off each other. 

in the breakroom, sunghoon had you pressed against the wall, kissing you deeply. your hands were in his hair, pulling him closer as you moaned softly into his mouth. you made the breakroom like his bedroom.

jake walked in at the wrong moment. he froze, eyes wide, then quickly looked away with a muttered, “jesus christ…” before backing out. he found it odd. weird, bizarre even to see sunghoon and you… but you, especially in this state.

he supposed he didn’t know you enough—despite knowing each other since the earliest days of jake’s life.

haewon, who had been right behind him, looked visibly uncomfortable, eyebrows furrowed as she turned and left without a word. 

you and sunghoon didn’t even notice. or even if either of you did—no fucks were given.

on the floor, you were “checking out cds” together—but really, it mostly meant him standing behind you with his arms around your waist as the two of you decided which movie to watch for the night.

even during his band practice time that you’d tag along—sunghoon spent most of it teaching you how to use his electric guitar, sitting on his lap with your back pressed flashed against his chest, sunghoon’s arms wrapped around your waist.

his members would give him a look, and so did your girl friends who shared the room.

it’s weird. it’s unlikely.

every night was spent together under the sheets. 

you loved kissing him. you could do it for hours, everywhere, anywhere—slow, deep kisses that turned hungry, soft pecks all over his face, neck, chest, or just lying there with your lips pressed against his for long moments.

you’d pull him on top of you, legs wrapped around his waist, whispering i love you between kisses like it you couldn’t bear even an inch of space between your bodies.

sunghoon wasn’t complaining. not even a little.

he had never been this happy.

waking up with you curled into his side, making breakfast together while you hugged him from behind, stolen kisses, falling asleep with your head on his chest every night—it felt like a dream he never wanted to wake up from. the constant affection, the way you looked at him… it filled every empty space he’d carried.

days turned into weeks.

and now it had been almost two months together.

“acoustic guitar?” 

you and sunghoon were sitting across from each other at a small table by the window, sharing a plate of pastries and drinks. your fingers were playing with his hand on the table—tracing his knuckles, interlacing your fingers, gently squeezing every few seconds.

you genuinely couldn’t stop touching him.

sunghoon chuckled softly, watching the way your pretty manicured fingers traced the lines on his palm. “yeah. the band’s been doing mostly acoustic sets now. the electric stuff is fun but… i don’t know, it feels different when it’s just the guitar. personal, i guess?”

you nodded, still playing with his fingers. were you even listening?

“i like when you play acoustic. your voice sounds really nice like that.”

“you think s—”

RING—!

sunghoon glanced down to his phone with its screen facing upwards—seeing jake’s contact. he simply acknowledged it before flipping his phone. 

the conversation flowed easily as it should between two lovers—about his band’s past gigs, practice, and whether he should start his own project since the band wasn’t as active anymore.

“you should,” you said, eyes sparkling. you squeezed his hand, nails lightly digging into his flesh. “you’d be amazing leading your own band. i wanna come to every show—wanna follow you everywhere you go.”

sunghoon smiled, warmth spreading through his chest. 

“of course you will.”

you picked up a piece of bread, tore a small chunk, and fed it to him with your fingers. sunghoon accepted it, lips brushing against your fingertips. he was about to do the same for you when his phone buzzed on the table.

jake was calling, again.

sunghoon sighed. “hold on, baby. it’s the second time he’s called now. i’ll be quick.”

he excused himself from the table and stepped outside to take the call. 

you watched him go, your expression shifting. your smile faded. a subtle annoyance flickered across your face as you stared at him walking away, fingers tapping lightly, impatiently on the table.

“what?” he answered, a little impatient. “i’m busy.”

“busy with yn?”

sunghoon sighed. “what do you want?"

there was a beat of hesitation on the other line.

“okay, so…” jake started. “i haven’t told anyone because i don’t know how true this goes, but i went to yn’s house the other day to pass some pie. her grandma was asking where yn is.”

sunghoon frowned, “your point?” 

“she thinks yn lives with me. thought she was sick of her. i didn’t tell her what yn said about her kicking her out but… something’s going on.”

sunghoon glanced back at you. you were staring in his direction, smiling in an unnatural, almost too–wide way. he gave a small wave. you waved back, smiling.

jake continued, voice lower. “and plus, this is just so weird, man… i’ve never seen her acting this way. i didn’t even know she liked you.”

that ticked sunghoon off—he didn’t like that. so what if it was fucking weird? so what if jake didn’t know you liked sunghoon? jake didn’t need to know everyfuckingthing there is to know in this world. just because you and him were childhood friends, it doesn’t mean you need to tell him everything.

his grip on the phone tightened. “what the hell are you trying to say?”

a beat.

“i’m just saying it’s weird,” jake replied carefully. “i’m happy for you two, really. but it’s… it’s like yn snapped into a different person.”

sunghoon looked back at you again. you were still staring at him with that same unwavering smile. it was as if you didn’t stop smiling, at all. 

jake kept going. “i don’t know what’s going on with her… or you… but i think you guys should be apart for a while. she literally hasn’t been home.”

a beat.

“hello? sunghoon?”

call ended. 

sunghoon hung up and slowly walked back to the table. he was annoyed, slightly shocked, and trying hard to hide it. his mind was still replaying jake’s words.

you looked up with him with that soft, adoring smile.

“everything okay, baby?”

he sat down, forcing a small nod. “um, yeah.”

you tilted your head, watching him carefully.

“actually, do you…”

“mmmhm…?” you hummed, leaning forward slightly. sunghoon hesitated, then shook his head. “nothing.”

you studied him for a second longer before smiling again. “hm, okay…. i have something for you.”

you reached into your bag and pulled out a small red box, sliding it across the table toward him.

sunghoon blinked. “what’s this?”

“...open it.” 

he hesitated for a moment, fingers hovering over the box, before finally opening it. inside was a beautiful gem—a deep, dark onyx with flecks that caught the light. it was attached to a simple silver chain, clearly old but well–cared for.

“oh… wow,” he murmured, genuinely surprised.

you smiled gently. “it was my grandma’s… then my mom’s, then mine. but i want to give it to you.”

sunghoon looked up at you, confused. “why are you giving it to me?” 

you reached across the table and gently took his hand. “well… it’s important to me. and so are you—but you’re way more important.”

sunghoon looked at the onyx in his palm, then back at you. “you sound like you love me,” he said, heaf–teasing, half–testing. 

you gave him an eerier, almost creepy smile—too wide, too unwavering, full of teeth. “hoonie… i love you so much. i love you more than anyone else.”

the way you said it sent a chill down his spine.

he tried to keep his voice light. “you’d be sad without me?”

you didn’t even hesitate. “i could die.”

the silence that followed was heavy. sunghoon played with the stone between his fingers, the weight of your words sinking in. then, what jake had said slipped into his mind.

i’ve never seen her acting this way. i didn’t even know she liked you.

yn’s grandma thought she was sick of her.

“yn?”

“yeah?”

“did your grandma really kick you out?”

a beat.

you blinked. then you started chuckling—low, strange sound that quickly turned into scoffing. you stood up from the table abruptly. 

“no, no, no, no, no…”

sunghoon looked up at you, confused. “what?”

you raised your voice, almost childlike in your denial. “nooooo, don’t you do that!”

the entire restaurant went quiet. heads turned, the uncomfortable tension was immediate—all eyes on your table, whispers began scattering around in the space. 

sunghoon stayed seated but reached out, gently grabbing your hand. 

“what? baby, calm down. let’s sit first, please?”

your eyes were twitching, and so were your fingers—gripping into the hem of your pretty sweater. “why does it matter?!”

he looked around, clearly embarrassed, cheeks burning as people continued staring. you pulled your hand back slightly but didn’t sit back down. 

“i thought we were having a nice date?” your voice trembled. your head jerked and tilted sideways, shoulders shuddering. to others, it might just seem like a girlfriend getting psycho over the boyfriend, but to sunghoon who knew better—

it was anything but it.

“we are! we are…” he tried to reassure you, lightly nudging you to sit down again—but you wouldn’t budge. 

“so why does it matter?” you repeated, voice getting smaller. just then, you started crying—softly, almost childishly, tears rolling down your cheeks as you stood there by the table with sunghoon’s hand holding yours.

the silence around you was deafening.

sunghoon was growing concerned and embarrassed—people were getting the wrong ideas, he could feel the judgemental eyes on him—the guy must have done something terrible to make his girlfriend cry in public.

swallowing the lump in his throat, he squeezed your hand gently. “doesn’t matter to me, baby. doesn’t matter,” he said quickly, voice low and soothing.

he finally managed to pull you toward him. you collapsed into his lap and chest almost instantly, sobbing quietly against his shirt. sunghoon wrapped his arms around you tightly, one hand rubbing slow circles on your back, the other cradling the back of your head.

you finally went quiet.

“shhh, it’s okay… i’ve got you,” he whispered into your hair, holding you close as your body trembled with hiccups. “it doesn’t matter. it doesn’t matter to me.”

the restaurant slowly, very agonisingly so, went back to their own conversations, but the uneasy atmosphere lingered. 

sunghoon kept holding and rocking you gently, completely focused on calming you down.

——

the night ended with another fucking session. tonight lasted slightly longer than usual—one sunghoon could only assume was due to your frustration from the dinner date earlier. admittedly, it was sunghoon’s fault. he shouldn’t have brought it up, shouldn’t have listened to jake, shouldn’t have put you on the spot.

if you really wanted to talk about it, you would’ve.

sunghoon accidentally woke up sometime in the middle of the night. groggily, he checked the time on his phone.

03:47

and your side of the bed was cold. 

he sat up slowly, rubbing his eyes as he looked around the dark room. at first, he thought you might have gone to the bathroom, or went down to get yourself a glass of water. but then his eyes caught something in the far corner—behind a stack of boxes.

a figure. barely visible. so faint it might’ve been nothing.

sunghoon sat up and leaned forward, squinting to get a clearer view. the figure stepped forward at his movement.

“yn…?”

you were standing there in nothing but his oversized shirt, the hem barely covering your ass. your nipples were visibly perky through the thin fabric, and your eyes reflected just enough light from the window to look almost glowing. eyeshine.

“go back to sleep,” you said softly.

sunghoon’s heart rate picked up.

“what are you doing…?”

you tilted your head slightly. a small, serene smile on your lips. 

“watching you sleep. you’re cute when you sleep, hoonie.”

then, without a word, you stepped back into the shadow of the dark corner, becoming almost invisible again. sunghoon stared at the spot where you had been for god knows how long—unable to shake the chill that ran down his spine.

“...can you come back to bed?” sunghoon asked. voice careful.

“no.”

“yn?”

“no.”

the silence that followed was thick and suffocating. sunghoon sat there in the dark of his room, heart beating faster, tummy gurgling with uneasiness. he was getting weirded out—uncomfortable—getting scared by the girl of his dreams.

you were just standing there, not doing anything. not fiddling with the hem of his shirt that you were wearing, not moving an inch, not blinking or cracking a smile. hell—sunghoon couldn’t even see your lungs expanding. 

it was… uncanny. 

he thought of calling out again—but out of nowhere, you started giggling. a childish, high–pitched sound that didn’t belong in the middle of the night, and was definitely not yours. your shoulders shook and trembled with each giggle that slipped past your lips, but you weren’t moving.

“yn—”

you were acting fucking weird when you hopped back toward the bed like nothing had happened, crawling onto him and kissing his cheek with wet, eager presses of your lips.

“you know i love you the most, right?” you whispered sweetly against his skin, voice dripping with something unhinged. “i love you sooooo much…” 

your hands roamed his bare chest possessively, cold fingers digging into his skin as you groped his bicep, squeezing like you were testing how much of him you could claim—ripped out with your bare hands.

you kissed down his neck, grazing your teeth along his pulse point—not quite biting, but close enough to send a shiver of fear through him.

“i could eat you up…” you murmured, teeth scraping harder this time, voice low and obsessive and not yours. “just…. consume every little part of you until there’s nothing left for anyone else—not even for yourself. wouldn’t that be nice? you’d be all mine. only mine. forever.”

your nails dragged down his chest as you nuzzled into his neck again, pressing your chest against him. sunghoon state frozen beneath you, heart hammering. the earlier warmth completely replaced by a deep, instinctive dread. 

with your hand roaming along his body, they travelled down until you were caressing his thigh, close to his boxer. sunghoon let out a small grunt as you licked the part where his major jugular vein pulsed, then followed it with wet, butterfly kisses along the slope of his neck.

sunghoon had never noticed or felt how sharp your canines are. 

“i wanna do it again,” you murmured, fluttering your pretty lashes with that same unhinged adoration. 

even through the fear he’d never felt before in his life, sunghoon couldn’t deny you. not when you leaned in closer, lips brushing his ear as you whispered,

“fuck me, please?”

——

sunghoon stepped out of the bathroom, still half–asleep as he adjusted his shirt. at the same time, you walked out of the kitchen looking as normal, cute, girlfriend–ly, and happy as ever—bright smile, fresh face, still wearing the same oversized shirt as last night. 

“oh! good morning, my baby!” you chirped, immediately walking over and kissing his cheek sweetly.

sunghoon smiled despite the lingering unease from last night. “hi, morning.” he hummed, kissing you back softly on the lips. 

he hesitated for a moment, then spoke carefully.

“... can we, uh, talk about last night?”

your expression shifted. you looked down for a second, then back up at him with wide, innocent eyes.

“ugh, i’m sorry,” you said softly. “i had a really bad dream… and i think i was sleepwalking or something. i don’t even remember most of it…”

sunghoon hummed, rubbing the back of his neck. “it was kinda scary. you were saying and doing stuff. and the way you looked at me—” “i know, i know,” you cut in gently, stepping closer and wrapping your arms around his waist. you hugged him tight, pressing your cheek against his chest. “i’m so sorry, baby. i won’t do it again—promise.”

he slowly hugged your back, arms clinging around you. his voice was relieved, but still worried. 

“it’s okay. just promise me it won’t happen again.”

“i promise,” you said sweetly, giving him a squeeze. “i love you so much.”

“i love you too.”

it’s all so weird, but also not. just last night, sunghoon swore he could piss himself on the bed—but came the morning, and he couldn’t help himself.

he reached for his nametag on the counter and pinned it on. “i’ll see you later.”

“mmhm,” you hummed happily. then you suddenly perked up. “oh! i made you a little something.”

you hurried back to the kitchen counter and came back holding a neatly packed lunchbox, handing it to him with both hands like it was a precious gift.

“since i’m not working anymore, i couldn’t stand not doing anything for you and feeling like a useless sex doll—”

sunghoon frowned almost instantly, cutting you off. “what? what are you talking about?”

for a split second, your expression glitched in real time—eyes flickering, smile twitching unnaturally like a bad video feed. your pupils constricted and dilated before it went back normal. you recovered almost instantly, laughing it off like it was nothing. 

“what? sorry, just forget it! here.”

you pushed the lunchbox into his hands with a wide smile. 

sunghoon took it, a little confused. “um… alright.”

you leaned in and kissed him again—soft, lingering, and full of that obsessive affection. he kissed you back, placing his hands on your hips momentarily. 

you pulled away with a bright smile, brushing off nothing from his shoulders like a doting girlfriend. then, you did that cute giddy thing—standing on your tiptoes, dropping back down, then rising onto your tiptoes again, hands clasped in front of you.

“enjoy your day, hoonie!” you said sweetly. “but not too much.” you smiled.

“i’ll be right here when you get home.” 

sunghoon gave you a small smile, and turned toward the door.

only to find it taped shut, literally. layers of grey duct tape crisscrossing over them frame and knob and wall, sealing it completely.

he stopped dead in his tracks, eyes widened in shock and disbelief. “uh… um…”

he didn’t say anything else. he just walked over and tried to pull the knob—the tape held firm.

behind, you stood perfectly still, watching with that same serene smile. you were still standing on your tiptoes, then dropping back down, then onto your tiptoes again. 

“you okay, baby?” you asked, voice soft and innocent. “you seemed to struggle a little… maybe you should just stay at home?”

sunghoon forced a chuckle, still tugging at the door. “no, no, i uh… i got this, baby. just…”

with a sharp rip, he finally tore enough of the tape off to open the door. he turned back to you, trying to act normal. 

“i’ll see you soon.”

you waved at him with an unnervingly sweet, cute smile. still standing in the same spot—still doing your tiptoes movement.

——

sunghoon and haewon were in the aisles arranging the new cd arrivals. 

“been a while since we hung out,” she said casually, sliding a few albums into place. 

“yeah,” sunghoon replied, not looking up from where he was crouching down. “got busy. and yn’s not exactly the hang–out type anymore.”

haewon paused, looking down at him with a raised eyebrow.

“what, really? she used to come over a lot and watch movies with jake and i.” she shrugged. “huh. guess relationships change people.”

sunghoon chuckled, then he smiled, finally looking up to her. “what’s up with that?”

the girl laughed lightly, shaking her head as she continued with her task. “nothing? i always thought yn was like this really cool, whimsical girl, you know what i mean? but now i barely even see you, let alone her. just… bummed.”

sunghoon’s hands slowed on the cds. “uh. i guess so.”

the silence between them grew a little awkward. sensing it, haewon quickly changed the subject with a brighter tone. “oh, yeah, also—jake wants to hold this big, cool movie night at our place tonight. you’re joining?”

sunghoon pursed his lips, then thought for a little while. true—it’s been a while since the three—or four, if including you—hung out together since sunghoon and you became a thing. it had also been a while since he properly talked to haewon and jake outside of work.

everything lately had revolved around you.

“...yeah, sure, actually,” he finally said. “who else is joining?”

haewon smiled, relieved that the awkwardness had passed. “mm, i think jake invited some band people too. aerona’s there too, if you remember.”

sunghoon nodded. “sure. yeah, that works.”

they were cut off by kim calling out from the front counter. “haewon! can you work on this aisle? and sunghoon, you can take your break now!”

haewon grunted softly, rolling her eyes. “i’ll see you tonight.”

“sure,” sunghoon replied with a small smile. 

with another grunt from him, he stood back up, rubbing his hands together and setting the box aside.

as he was walking toward the counter to head to the breakroom, sieun—your bestfriend—suddenly appeared in front of him. she was wearing a low cut sleeveless top and jeans shorts, boots that rose up till her knees.

“sunghoon, hi!”

he was slightly taken aback. “oh, sieun, hey. what are you doing here?”

he kept walking, slipping behind the counter and into the small breakroom to grab his lunchbag. the breakroom door was right behind the front counter, so sieun waited in front with her arms folded in front of her, pressed against her chest—making her cleavage appear more… prominent. 

when he came back out with the lunchbox you’d made him, sieun grinned.

“oh, you know… i kinda wanna rent something,” she said, voice playful. “secretary, maybe?”

sunghoon didn’t know sieun like that aside from sharing a band practice room together occasionally. so seeing her this way, kinda changed the way he viewed her. 

he hummed, letting out a small scoff. “we don’t sell porn here.”

sieun giggled, tilting her head. “oh! so you know?” she leaned forward a little more. “it’s not porn, though? it’s just… suggestive.”

the atmosphere between them felt changed—flirty on her end. 

“well, you gotta pirate it, ‘cause we don’t have it here.”

he then set the lunchbag you made him on the counter between them, creating a space. sieun’s eyes flicked to it. 

“awe, mommy made you lunch, sunghoon?”

“nope,” he replied, a small smile tugging at his lips. “yn did, actually.”

sieun let out a soft laugh, raising her eyebrows. “oh, how sweet. she’s the best at cooking,” she hummed, raising an eyebrow. “very… housewife material of her.”

sunghoon chuckled lightly and opened the lid.

the smell hit them both at the same time. 

inside was the most unappetising, inedible, atrocious looking lunch either of them had ever seen—it was just a sandwich. except, the sandwich was both burnt and wet at the same time—the bread charred back on the edges while the middle looked soggy and slimy. a small bug was even crawling slowly across the top.

both of them recoiled instantly.

siuen made a disgusted noise and turned her head away. sunghoon quickly slammed the lid shut, eyes wide with horror.

the lunchbox landed in the trash.

——

the drive started quiet. after shift, jake asked for a ride home in which sunghoon agreed—having lived in the same row of neighborhoods, after all. 

then, jake cleared his throat.

“i wanna talk about you and yn.”

sunghoon kept his eyes on the road. “what’s there to talk about?

“come on.”

the driver sighed, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel. “you know i like her. for a long time too.”

“i know,” jake said carefully, knowing how fragile the topic was. “but i just think you guys should be apart for a bit—”

“i’ve never been so fucking happy,” sunghoon cuts in, voice sharp, laced with defensiveness. “not after my dad passed.”

jake tried again. “it’s just for a little—”

“and you’re trying to give me reasons not to be.”

a heavy beat of silence settled in the car.

“look, i just don't want you, or yn for that matter, to get hurt,” jake said, tone more serious now. “she’s my friend, and you’re my bestfriend, and i’m totally thrown and weirded out by this. can we please break this down?”

sunghoon’s grip on the wheel tightened. “i don’t want to break it down for you.”

jake pushed. “she lied about her grandma. she didn’t have a reason to—”

“i’m still not breaking down our relationship—”

“we don’t even hang out anymore—”

“right, like i had to hear about your cool–ass party from haewon—”

“and you don’t think this is fucking weird at all?”

“were you going to invite us?”

their voices overlapped, the argument building fast and messy in the confined space of the car.

jake frowned. “don’t change the subject. and i wasn’t sure if i wanted to, if i’m being completely honest.”

sunghoon’s jaw clenched. “why not?”

the car slowed to a stop in front of jake’s house.

he turned to sunghoon, expression serious. “because it looks like yn is going through something worse than molly, and it seems to me that you’re taking advantage of it—”

“oh, for fuck’s sakes!” sunghoon snapped, turning to jake. his arms rested on the shoulder of the car seat. “she’s all over me! are you fucking kidding?”

“exactly!” jake shot back. “you were all over her, now she’s all over you and it doesn’t look good. it doesn’t look good at all, man.”

sunghoon let out a bitter laugh, gripping the steering wheel tighter. “why are you trying to ruin this for me? she’s the one who won’t leave me alone.”

jake exhaled, rubbing his face. “alright. then be a man, and make that clear. you can come, but out of love, yn can’t. or yn can come, and you stay at home.”

just before jake stepped out of the car, he paused, one hand on the door.

“i don’t want my friend’s relationship to be built on some weird codependency or what-the-fuck-ever.”

he shut the door behind him.

——

tired from the long day and the argument with jake, sunghoon pushed the door open and flicked on the lights. he just wanted to shower and rest—and cuddle with you until sleep took over.

but the moment he stopped inside, the smell hit him first—sour, acrid, vomit, and urine.

you were still standing in the middle of the living room, the same spot he left you in, soaked in sweat and vomit, standing in a pool of your own piss. the same shirt from earlier was ruined, clinging wetly to your body. urine stained your legs and the floor beneath you.

you hadn’t moved from that spot.

“hoonie!” you said brightly.

sunghoon froze, eyes wide with horror.

“oh, shit—yn?! what the fuck? are you okay?”

you seemed to realise the state you were in. at his reaction, you stepped back embarrassed, looking down at yourself with a small, confused frown.

“i—i’m sorry… oh gosh, i should’ve showered…”

sunghoon moved toward you quickly, concerned and utterly confused. he grabbed a tissue from the tv stand and started wiping your face, trying not to gag at the smell.

“what happened?” he asked, voice laced with worry.

you looked up at him, eyes glassy. “my body feels weird and i couldn’t stop puking… ugh, i don’t know…”

sunghoon’s eyes widened. he scrunched his nose at the overwhelming stench. “did you have a seizure or something?" 

you shook your head slowly.

“i was waiting for you to come home.”

you looked down at yourself again and shivered with visible revulsion.

“oh gosh… i’m so disgusting… you’re probably so disgusted with me. i’m so sorry—let me shower, and i’ll clean this all up.”

you walked toward the bathroom. sunghoon followed close behind, but you slammed the door in his face before he could do anything. the shower water turned on a second later.

“yn, i don’t understand how—” he started, voice raised above the noise of the water.

“i’ll clean it, baby,” you called back, voice sweet despite everything.

sunghoon stood right outside the door, shoulders slumped, forehead resting against the door.

“yn?”

“yeah?”

“...you love me, right?”

“yeah, a lot!”

he closed his eyes.

“...okay. so never do that again, hm?”

“do what? wait for you to come home?”

sunghoon rested his head fully against the door, voice tired.

“not that, baby. you can wait for me—but you know, you can also do things around the house.”

“okay, baby.”

a beat of silence.

“so uhm… what did you do today?”

“nothing, baby.”

another long pause. defeated and unsure, sunghoon finally spoke up again, “i’m going to jake’s house tonight.”

the shower water stopped. and everything went eerily quiet. 

you sounded hurt when you replied. “okay.”

“so i, uh… i’m gonna go there, okay?”

“yup. i can get dressed after this.”

“that’s nice, baby, but uh… i think it’s just a band thing.”

“oh, i know ‘cause sieun was telling me she’s going.”

sunghoon frowned, taken aback. “sieun too? what, really?”

the bathroom door suddenly slammed open. 

you stood there, drenched, wrapping only in a towel. hair dripping water onto the floor. your eyes were wide and intense. 

“yeah. why? are you happy? excited? is that why you’re telling me not to go?” with every sentence, you walked towards him. your eyes were wide, and your skin was warm and flushed from the hot water. you tilted your head once harshly, it threatened to break.

sunghoon stepped back until his back met the wall, hands raised. “no, no, no, baby, no that’s not it—”

then, like a switch, you stood still, like normal, with an innocent look on your face. “but um, okay. if you want me to stay at home, i can stay at home, hoonie.”

now he was feeling overwhelmingly guilty. he didn’t know sieun, your bestfriend, was coming too—so now it just seemed like an overall big misunderstanding. 

“no, it’s okay. i’m sorry—you should come.”

“mm, it’s fine. you can go without me.”

he started persuading you to go, but you kept insisting in that soft tone of yours—”i don’t want to bother you, i’ll just wait here like always,” “i don’t want to make you uncomfortable…”

sunghoon didn’t know what to do.

——

jake deadpanned sunghoon the moment he walked in with you clinging to his arm. sunghoon avoided his gaze. around the low table were two other guys from the band circle and sieun, who gave sunghoon a flirty little wave. 

you and sunghoon sat together on the couch, your body pressed close to his. jake and haewon were sitting on single chairs across the table, and others just scattered around.

the group was playing “dare or drink”—a stack of cards with ridiculous and explicit dares.

one of the guys, jaemin, pulled a card and grinned.

“switch spots with whoever you want.”

“hell yeah,” he said immediately, eyes landing on you. “i wanna sit next to yn.”

your eyes widened slightly and you instantly looked over to sunghoon, pouting and pleading, “nooo…” and caught sunghoon’s hand as he got up, squeezing it lightly. “baby, i’ve showered…”

he gave your hand a gentle squeeze back. “it’s fine, babe.”

he stood up and moved to the only empty spot—right next to haewon.

jaemin happily took his place beside you. you looked visibly sad, like a kicked puppy with your eyebrows frowned inwards, scooting slightly from the other guy. 

he laughed. “damn, sunghoon, what kinda spell you got on her?”

the group chuckled. sunghoon forced a smile but didn’t say anything.

it was now your turn. you pulled a card but didn’t read it out loud. instead, you stared at it for a long second before standing up and suddenly speaking in a soft, rambling voice—like you were telling a story no one asked for.

“my wish is to die like an angel, sinless… i don’t know what it is, and i don’t think i’m the only one. falling from the sky with wings made of glass, shattering beautifully so everyone can see who i really am inside. but i can’t. i can’t die like an angel, and i think i can’t die at all. i can’t die like an angel like i wanted to. i’m not an angel—i’m not—i don’t know. i just want to be something.”

the room went deathly quiet. whatever it was… hung heavy in the air—deeply unsettling in everyone’s ribs. jake blinked, swallowing the lump in his throat. haewon, too, blinking confusedly, her lips parting like she wanted to say something—but not sure what.

sieun made a face—a clear what the fuck….? expression—while the other two guys exchanged awkward glances, one of them muttering a quiet, “what…?”

sunghoon just stared at you, completely confused, mouth slightly open like haewon—wanted to say something but couldn’t find the words.

sieun finally broke the silence, raising an eyebrow. “uh… you good, babe?”

you blinked, sat down again, then smiled like nothing strange had happened at all. 

“yeah. i’m perfect.”

haewon cleared her throat awkwardly. “um… okay, sunghoon—it’s your turn.”

sunghoon blinked, snapping out of it. “oh shit, okay.”

he reached forward and pulled a card. his face paled the moment he read it. he glanced at you—you were leaning forward with sweet anticipation, smiling brightly. then he looked at jake silently pleading. 

“...kiss the person to your left.”

it was haewon.

“ooohs,” and “wows,” rippled through the group. sunghoon made eye contact with you again. your expression had gone completely dead—emotionless, empty. then, the corners of your mouth stretched downwards tightly while your eyes remained unblinking and wide.

then you stood up slowly. everyone’s eyes followed you. 

you stood behind haewon’s folded chair for what felt like forever.

swiftly, you moved behind haewon’s chair and grabbed the back of it—dragged it backward with a loud, grating creak that echoed through the room. haewon’s eyes widened and she gripped the armrests for support and balance. 

then you crouched right next to sunghoon’s chair, puckered your lips, and waited.

the whole room was shocked into silence.

sunghoon stared at you for a second. he hadn’t even planned to do the dare—he was going to drink instead. but the way you were looking at him now…

he leaned in and kissed you. 

then, you looked at sunghoon with glassy eyes.

“no one on this earth will ever comprehend what it feels like to love someone as much as i love you,” you whispered against his lips.

you stood up abruptly and giggled, clapping your hands once like a child who’d just finished a performance. 

“that was fun!”

jake looked almost hurt for a second, but then forced a smile. “um, okay… dare still count. who wants shots?”

a beat.

jaemin raised his hand. “i’ll take one.”

“god bless, thank you jaemin,” jake said, trying to keep the mood light.

“who else?”

you locked eyes with sunghoon. he looked rather uncomfortable. guilt suddenly washed over your face. your heart beat once, then twice, then thrice before something in you snapped.

you jolted violently, swiping the entire stack of cards off the table with one arm. before anyone could react, you grabbed the vodka bottle and smashed it hard against the edge of the table.

CRASH.

glass exploded everywhere. everyone jerked back in fear, chairs scraping loudly as people scrambled away. haewon nearly stumbled over her chair. 

“it’s not me!” you screamed, voice cracking. “i’m not the devil!”

you kept smashing the broken bottle against the table, shards flying. sieun gasped aloud, but wasn’t able to do anything to stop you. sunghoon too, just watched in horror.

“help her! shit—sunghoon!”

“get her to the fucking hospital!”

then, in a frenzied motion, you lifted the sharp, broken vodka bottle and stabbed the jagged end into the side of your face. 

the blunt glass failed to puncture deeply, but it still caused crazy damage—tearing open your cheek in a ragged, bloody gash. blood poured down your face instantly, dripping onto your pretty little dress (too pretty for a simple movie night) and onto the floor. 

sobbing, you kept pressing it in, twisting it slightly. more blood spraying as the glass cut deeper into your skin.

“please—it’s not me!”

the room erupted into chaos—people standing up, chairs knocking over.

“yn, shit!”

sunghoon just stared at you from where he was sitting, almost… emotionless. almost. he blinked like he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. his mind was racing—every moment, every strange behaviour, every time he’d ignored it all. he didn’t move.

he couldn’t.

you kept pressing the jagged glass into the side of your face for a few more terrifying seconds before you suddenly stopped. the broken bottle slipped from your bloody fingers and clattered to the floor.

your expression changed instantly. you blinked, looking around the room like you just woke up from a nightmare. 

“oh… oh my gosh, i’m so sorry…”

you looked horrifying. blood poured freely down the left side of your face from the ragged rash on your cheek, staining your pretty dress. your hands were cut and bleeding from gripping the broken glass—and your eyes were wide and teary.

you chuckled awkwardly, nipping at the bottom of your lip as you darted your tongue to lick the blood around your lips. 

everyone in the room was horrified. haewon had her hand over her mouth. sieun was colourless. the other guys were frozen. jake looked like he was about to be sick. 

you tried to smile, voice shaky as you stood up, wiping your bloody hands on your skirt. 

“okay, okay… i’m so sorry, guys. oh gosh, silly me,” you let out a weak laugh, tucking your hair behind your ear. “it was just a joke, um—i’m leaving. sorry, sorry…”

you started crying softly, tears mixing with the blood on your face.

then, you turned to sunghoon, voice small as you extended your arm out.

“come on, baby.”

everyone’s eyes snapped to him.

——

the hospital didn’t take you in.

the nurse had asked sunghoon to make a report and leave you there for treatment, but he refused. he didn’t want to leave you alone. not now, not like this, not ever.

so he drove home instead, your head nuzzling into his shoulder the entire ride, one of your hands tightly gripping his free arm like you were afraid he’d disappear.

back at his house, sunghoon sat at the dining table. the cut on your cheek had stopped bleeding but the parted flesh looked raw and ugly. it gave him chills how you were so unbothered by it.

he was about to stand up when you grabbed his hand.

“where are you going…?”

“just getting water, yn…”

you looked down on your lap, still holding his wrist. sunghoon stared at you for a long, heavy moment—contemplating, licking his dry lips wet.

“why did you do that?”

you finally looked up to him, eyes showing visible sadness, your eyebrows dropped. “...you and haewon were going to kiss…”

sunghoon sighed. he’d half–expected that’d be your answer. sighing, he ran his other hand along his face. “i wasn’t even going to do it,” he said, frustration creeping in. “i was going to drink—you… you scared everyone.”

swallowing the lump in your throat, your gave his wrist a gentle squeeze. “i don’t know why i did it…” you whispered. 

sunghoon shook his head, sitting back down. “look at your face,” he said, voice softer but still strained.

“i’m sorry—i got scared…”

he reached out and gently wiped the dried blood from your cheek with his thumb. you leaned into his touch like a starved animal. 

then, you added quietly, “sieun likes you too.”

sunghoon’s patience finally snapped. he frowned, and pulled his hand back, growing frustrated. why the fuck would it ever matter if sieun liked him? 

“that’s… god, that’s—”

you looked up at him, confused, pulling your hand back. “what…?”

it all blew up.

“god, everything was fucking normal!” he burst out, voice cracking as he stood up. sunghoon turned around to face the wall, clear frustration, anger, disappointment, confusion—all displayed on his face. 

“and now you’re so—you’re so—!”

sunghoon turned and stopped himself, seeing the way you flinched, eyes wide and shocked and teary. 

“i’m sorry… i’m sorry,” he said quickly, voice breaking as he reached for you again. his hands were shaking as he held your cheeks, thumbs gently brushing away the tears. 

“you’re normal,” he whispered, voice cracking. “you’re so normal, and you’re so beautiful and i love you so much but—oh god, yn, please don’t ever do that again.”

sunghoon’s eyes were glassy, filled with fear and guilt and love all at once.

“it’s not okay,” he murmured, shaking his head. “this isn’t okay.”

you looked up at him. he searched for your face desperately, still cupping your cheeks.

“do you… do you like me?”

“of course, hoonie. i love you—”

“no, no, no, no, no,” he cut you off, shaking your head frantically. his grip on you tightened a fraction. “do you like me? do you even like me?”

you tried to answer again. “i lov—”

sunghoon frowned—he almost pressed his thumbs into your flesh. “did yn like me?” he pressed, looking right into your eyes for answers. “is yn happy? did she like me?”

slowly, you cracked a smile, all teeth and almost like a grin. 

“yeah.”

sunghoon let out a shaky breath, eyes filled with pain and confusion. “yeah… no, no, no, no…” he whispered, suddenly pulling away, standing up and walking away.

you stood up too, voice small and scared. “where are you going?”

“bathroom, yn,” he said almost quickly, not turning around. “can i even do that?”

you frowned, now looking frustrated. the obsessive mask cracking as it bled through like the blood from your cut fleshes. “well, can you tell me you love me?” you said, tone laced with something of annoyance and eagerness. 

sunghoon stopped and turned around. his eyes were red, exhausted, and full of everything he’d been holding in.

“yn… this is all i’ve ever wanted.”

you tilted your head before stepping closer. “of course. i know that. this is all i’ve ever wanted too.” 

sunghoon shook his head slowly, stepping back. “no… it’s not…”

you stepped forward, eyes wide and pleading. “yes it is. this is all i’ve ever wanted.”

“i want this to work so bad,” he murmured, pain clear in his voice as he rubbed his face. 

“it can,” you said quickly, almost desperately as you stood before him. “of course it can.”

“no, it can’t.”

“yes it can.”

he ran a hand through his slightly sweaty hair, exhausted but not quite slowing down. sunghoon was borderline tearing up too out of frustration that you were just not getting it. “okay—so i’m gonna send you home and we’re gonna take some space—”

you immediately broke. your shoulders slumped like your soul just left you, like all the energy within had drained out. “noooo…” you started crying, then sobbing, then full–on wailing in a matter of seconds. 

“i don’t want space! i don’t wanna be apart from you! tell me what i should do!”

sunghoon frowned, voice cracked with frustration as he stepped away. “just be normal! be normal, yn!”

you screamed through your tears, “i can be normal!”

“god, i just want you to be yn!”

“i can be yn!” you screamed back, voice breaking and sobbing as your shoulder trembled. you followed wherever he went. “i can be anything you want!”

“don’t say that.” sunghoon said quietly, obviously drained. he held your shoulders, pressing his thumbs into your flesh to keep you steady. “yn will never say that.”

“it’s true!” you insisted, tears screaming. you held onto the hem of his shirt like an upset child. “i’ll be anything!”

sunghoon looked completely exhausted, no emotion left on his face. he was quiet now, staring at the floor. 

your lips parted when he didn’t look at you in the eyes. 

“oh… i’m so sorry. i’m so sorry, baby.”

you dropped to your knees in front of him with a thud, wrapping your arms tightly around his leg, clinging desperately as you buried your face against his thigh. your tears wet the fabric. 

“i can be yn… i can be yn… i’ll be whatever you want.” you murmured, kissing his thigh through his jeans.

“i’ll be sweet, and soft, and kind, caring… like yn… i’ll take care of you and we can cook and read together. i can be yn…” you continued, pressing your cheek into his flesh.

sunghoon slowly crouched to your level, cupping your cheeks so you were looking at him. 

“i love you too…” he whispered, voice breaking.

sunghoon really did.

then something in you snapped.

your face went completely emotionless. your eyes were empty, and you weren’t smiling—and it was as if your tears just stopped trailing down your flushed cheeks. you stood up in one unnaturally smooth, but quick motion—moving backward toward the table with stiff, mechanical steps. 

it didn’t look human.

sunghoon’s eyes widened in terror as he stumbled backwards against the desk, knocking things over. 

“stop! stop—fuck, yn, stop!”

you stood still in the darkness of the room, body rigid. for a terrifying second, he couldn’t predict what was coming next—only hearing his own heavy, ragged breathing and loud thumping of his own heart beat in his chest.

sunghoon didn’t know what was coming—cause you lunged forward, running straight at him—

but you stopped yourself.

“i’m sorry,” you murmured. 

a beat passed.

sunghoon was terrified, chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath.

“okay… god, okay. yn, i… i’m gonna step out. why don’t you… why don’t you take the bed, and i’ll just… i’ll just sleep somewhere else and i’ll come back in the morning before you’re even up.”

you stared at him for a long moment—sunghoon couldn’t see, but he could tell you were because of how heavy everything felt.

“okay.”

then you turned around and walked into the kitchen. a loud crashing sound echoed through the house—glass shattering, cabinets slamming, steel pans and pots clattering through the tiles. 

sunghoon flinched, frozen in fear. 

“yn?! what the fuck is happening? what are you doing?!”

the loud chaos went on for the next few seconds before it completely stopped. eerie silence. you came back out of the kitchen, still shrouded in shadow. your voice was calm, almost sweet, but the words were nothing but. 

and you were holding a knife.

“well… if i have the bed all to myself tonight…” you tilted your head, voice distant and almost flat, like you were not in the same space as he was. “...you’re not going to touch me. so i’ll do it myself. over and over and over. i’ll keep going until there’s nothing left inside. until every piece of me is used and hollowed out. my hands will move long after they go numb—and my body will keep moving even when it stops feeling like mine. it won’t stop until it hurts, and i won’t stop until i’m empty. i’ll just keep pushing until the last little bit of me breaks,” 

“...and then there’ll be nothing.”

the sharp blade of the knife in your hand glinted.

then you switched again.

“or you can stay!”

sunghoon’s eyes remained wide in terror as he gripped the carpet beneath him. trembling and shaking in fear, he let out a soft—

“...yeah.”

——

“do you love me?” 

that was the 27th time you asked that night.

you were on top of him, riding him slow and deep, hips rolling in a rhythm. your arms were wrapped tightly around his neck, pulling him as close as physically possible. you wanted to intertwine the cages of your ribs with his’—if that was possible. 

you couldn’t stop kissing him. kisses that tasted like salt from your tears and blood from your cut cheeks that didn’t want to leave your skin.

“do you love me?” you whispered against his lips for the 28th time that night.

sunghoon groaned softly, hands gripping your waist as you sank down onto him again, taking him to the hilt. despite everything—the fear, the confusion, the guilt, the violence—it felt so fucking good. too fucking good.

you’re perfect around him, warm and tight and desperately his.

“yeah…” sunghoon breathed, voice hoarse. “i love you.”

you smiled against his mouth, kissing him deeper, tongue sliding against his as you rode him harder. your hips moved with needy, possessive rolls, like you were trying to fuse your bodies together. 

“i love you so much, hoonie,” you murmured between kisses, whispering the confession straight into his insides. “i love you so much like no one else can…”

sunghoon’s eyes stung, wet. a tear slipped down his cheek as the overwhelming mix of pleasure hit him. he loved you. he loved you so much. even like this, he still loved you.

you noticed the tears and slowed your movements, cupping his face with both smaller hands. 

“why are you crying, baby?” you whispered sweetly, kissing the tear away. “i love you so much. i love you so much…”

you rode him again, slower this time, grinding down deep as you kissed him like the world was ending tomorrow. your bodies moved together in the dark of his room. 

sunghoon held you tighter, burying his face in your neck as tears fell down your shoulder, along your collarbone, tits, and down.

he didn’t know what this was anymore.

and he wasn’t sure if he wanted to know.

——

some hours later, after the sex and the clinging, sunghoon was awoken by the soft buzz of his phone.

slowly, quietly reaching for it and careful not to wake you up. the screen lit up.

sieun: can you meet me at the park? sieun: i need to tell you something about yn.

at first, he quickly typed back with one hand.

sunghoon: i can’t. sieun: please. it’s important.

sunghoon: text.

the bubble appeared, then disappeared.

siuen: if youre not cmg, then im cmg over sieun: its about yn

he stared at the scene for a long second. 

sunghoon: fuck. fine

he glanced at you—sleeping on his arm, naked beneath the blanket, looking as soft and calm as ever. slowly, very slowly, he moved your arm off his chest and slipped out of the bed. he put on his pants and shirt as quietly as possible.

sunghoon was just about to leave the bedroom when—

“sunghoon.”

he froze.

“i’m just getting water…” he whispered back, heart pounding. he didn’t want to deal with another breakdown. 

there was a long pause. then your voice came again—different, smaller, quieter. 

“sunghoon… kill me. please.”

he stopped dead in his tracks, ashamed and in disbelief as he stared at your unconscious, sleeping body.

“what?” “shh… she’s sleeping. it’s me.”

despite the tremble in your voice, you were sleeping soundly. 

“you are you, yn.”

“shh… please don’t wake her up.” your voice cracked, desperate. “just kill me.”

a beat of heavy silence.

sunghoon’s throat tightened as he glanced at the floor, before returning to your sleeping form. your hair covered your face, but even so, he knew your eyes were closed, and your mouth was shut.

“what would be so bad… about being with me?”

he could hear the tears in your voice. 

“i’ve never been with you, sunghoon.”

a single tear slipped down your cheek.

“just kill me. please.”

sunghoon stood there, frozen. his heart shattered like it had never been before. without sparing you another glance, he turned and left the room. 

behind him, your voice followed, weak and broken, repeating and chanting like a prayer—

“please… please… please… please… please…”

——

sunghoon got into her car, closing the door behind him. 

“alright. so what about yn?”

sieun raised an eyebrow, unbuckling her seatbelt. “jeez, calm down… what’s up with her first? is she fine?”

sunghoon darted his eyes away, sighing. “nothing. she’s uh… she’s fine. she just wasn’t feeling well at the party.”

the girl gave him a look. a long one. full of suspicion and doubt. “she was about to kill herself.”

“i know,” sunghoon said quickly, trying not to recall the moment you stabbed yourself in the face with a vodka bottle. “but she’s fine now. she’s just going through something.”

the car fell quiet for a moment. sieun tapped her fingers on the steering wheel before she shifted in her seat.

“um, okay… well, first of all, i’m saying this as yn’s friend. and also your acquaintance, somehow.” she paused, raising an eyebrow, then continued. “i’d hate to see your hurt, and—oh, yn too, i guess. and i wouldn’t have done this if you guys weren’t together.” 

sunghoon frowned. “yeah…?”

sieun took a deep breath, dropping her hands from the steering wheel and onto her lap where she played with the hem of her short skirt. “i promise yn i wouldn’t tell you this.”

“what are you on about?”

“well… yn and jake have been hooking up on and off like, three years ago—and they’ve stopped, but i’m not sure when. probably a year ago, or something. it’s chill. i don’t think it’s romantic. and i know jake’s your bestfriend and all, and i’m sure he stopped going after her because he knows you like her. i’m just saying this just so you know.”

sunghoon stared at her, stunned. his heart was beating as fast as it could. he never knew this. he never fucking knew you had a history—a fling—with his own bestfriend before. 

the thought of jake fucking you the way sunghoon did was making his blood boil. the thought of you moaning jake’s name the way you did in his dream was making his skin crawl. the thought of the two of you sharing a kiss—the same lips sunghoon kissed every night—was making him… repulsed.

“what the fuck…?”

“yeah,” sieun said softly. “i just… i don’t know if she’s told you that, so i felt like i had to.” she said, still playing with the fabric. “you couldn’t imagine what it’s like being me, and having to be in a room with jake, you, and yn all together.” 

the mood in the car shifted. sieun leaned a little closer, her voice dropping into something more… slicky. 

“i just think you deserve someone more… outgoing. or something. like, chill…”

sunghoon looked at her and swallowed the lump in his throat. distracted, his hands landed on the way her fingers were moving around the skirt. 

he parted his mouth to say something when—

CRASH.

the driver–side window shattered violently. 

glass exploded inward as you ran head–first into it like a battering ram. before sieun could even scream, you wedged a brick against the steering wheel, grabbed a fistful of her hair—so tight it threatened to rip off her scalp—, and slammed her face down hard against the brick.

HONK!

the horn blared with every slam..

you didn’t stop.

you yanked sieun’s head back by the hair and smashed her face into the brick again.

HONK!

blood sprayed across the dashboard and onto sunghoon’s face. sieun’s nose crunched on impact, splitting open. her cheek tore wide open, teeth falling down on her lap. 

HONK!

more blood poured from her broken nose and split lip. her cheekbone cracked with a wet sound. one of her teeth flew out, clattering against the windshield.

HONK!

you were relentless, animalistic. your face was covered by your hair, unfiltered rage as you kept yanking her head back by the hair and driving it down over and over and over again. 

HONK! HONK! HONK!

it was a bloodbath inside. on the seats, the roof, the windows, sunghoon. her face was unrecognisable, swollen, and mangled, one eye swelling shut, the other was exposing her eyeball. she was gurgling, choking on her own blood,

dead.

nothing to the name anymore.

playgirl’s just lost the lead singer.

sunghoon sat frozen in the passenger seat, paralysed by shock and terror. his body wouldn’t move, not a centimeter. his mouth hung open in silence as he watched you—the girl he loved—violently smashing her bestfriend’s face with raw force. 

he could only stare.

HONK!

with one last slam, you let go of sieun’s chunk of hair that you’d pulled out. her body slumped lifelessly against the seat, head tilting back. warm blood poured from her face, dripping down.

sunghoon stared. smoke from the broken horn lingered in the air like a ghost. he was paralysed—eyes widened, body frozen in horror.

you finally sighed, lifting your head up to face him with a bright, almost cheerful smile, blood smeared across your cheek and hands.

“oh—oh gosh! i’m sorry you had to see that, baby!”

you moved your hair out of your face, still smiling.

“my heart took a path i never chose… but just know you wanted this. this is all your fault. this is what you’ve wished for.”

sunghoon’s face was pale, mouth slightly open but nothing came out. upon his terrified reaction, your heart broke and the smile was instantly wiped off your face, replaced with a concerned look. 

“oh, no no no no no—” you rushed to his side, opening the passenger door. you cupped his face with your bloody hands, wiping the sweat and specks of blood from his skin. “breathe, baby, breathe,” you said, taking deep breaths.

“it’s okay. i’ve got you. that’s all that matters… you’re fine, baby. i’m soooo sorry for the drama, but this is your fault. sieun’s your fault.”

you pulled him into a tight hug, pressing your blood stained cheeks against his chest. 

“and you’re gonna have to help me get rid of her body, okay?”

sunghoon shook his head frantically. “no… no no no—”

“yes, baby. you’re gonna help me.”

“no, no, no—” he groaned, voice breaking.

you pulled back, still holding his face gently, eyes soft but insistent.

“baby, i forgive you and i won’t hold it against you. but we have to get rid of her, okay? now shake your head yes.”

he shook his head again, tears welling up.

you smiled patiently. “yes. yes. yes, baby.”

he kept shaking his head.

“nod your head yes.”

realizing he had no choice, sunghoon finally nodded, tears slipping down his cheeks.

——

sunghoon helped you move sieun’s body into the trunk of your car. you kissed him softly on the lips before saying you’d take it from here.

he drove back to his house but couldn’t bring himself to go inside. the fear was too heavy even though he knew you weren’t inside. the thought of being in his house by himself, waiting for you to come back was too much.

so instead, he drove until he reached crystal cove. 

it was barely 8 in the morning when he barged in, the bell above the door ringing violently. he went straight to the shelf where he’d found the one wish willow—

it wasn’t there.

“what the fuck…”

out of breath, sunghoon rummaged through the other display boxes, panicking—if it was all just his imagination. when he couldn’t find it, he stormed to the cashier, voice shaking.

“where is it? where’s the one wish willow?”

“what?”

sunghoon’s eyes twitched. “the one wish willow! it’s—it’s a white box with a twig that you can only wish for one thing!”

the cashier, with a cup of coffee in hand, raised an eyebrow, clicking his tongue.

“hey, look—you gotta chill… it like 7AM. what’s with the vibes you’re giving off?”

sunghoon was frantic, he looked around the shop for it. “come on, one wish willow! please, please—”

he stared at the bloodied guy like he was crazy. “...what? are you okay?”

sunghoon’s heart dropped. “what…?”

was it because of the blood on his shirt that nobody was taking him seriously? or was it because there was no such thing as one wish willow in the first place?

he was in disbelief. “no, no, no—don’t fuck with me. you guys had those!”

the cashier looked at him weirdly for a second—before chuckling like it’s the funniest fucking thing ever.

“chill out, jeez… i’m just messing with you. we moved them here.” he pointed right at the counter, where a small display now sat. 

sunghoon frowned, wanting to flip the cashier off but decided there was more important matter now. he grabbed the remaining one wish willow box from the display. 

“how can you fucking sell this to people?!”

the cashier shrugged, sighing. “look. we just sell what the boss wants us to sell. now if you can’t chill out and wipe that theatre blood off your face, i’m not gonna scan those for you.”

sunghoon snapped out of his rage for a second, realising how crazy and unhinged he sounded. he let out a deep breath and rubbed his face with one hand, on the verge of another round of tears and break down.

“sorry… fuck, i’m so sorry. oh god…”

the cashier’s expression softened a little when sunghoon calmed down, then he glanced at the boxes, and realisation kicked in.

“... what did you do?”

sunghoon couldn’t speak. the words wouldn’t come. 

the cashier sighed. “oh well. that’s just how it is.”

sunghoon’s voice cracked as he put the boxes on the counter. “help me reverse it.”

he shook his head. “nope. already used mine.”

“please, please, please—” 

sunghoon was begging at this point.

“nooo, you know that’s not how it works. it’s one wish for a reason! the box is full of warnings—did you read the instruction paper?”

“instru—dude, please, please—”

“nope. you know what you were wishing for.”

“i didn’t—”

“no.” the cashier said firmly, now looking at sunghoon straight into his eyes. “you do. there’s no way to undo, or break the wish unless you kill youself—”

sunghoon’s eyes widened, he froze.

“—unless you kill youself, or have someone else reverse it.”

“k—kill… myself?”

the cashier nodded, drumming his fingers against the countertop. “yeah. that’s usually the easy way people do it. i’ve dealt with unsatisfied customers like you all the time for the same reason. it’s too much of a hassle to explain it to others, so they just kill themselves.”

sunghoon remained frozen, swallowing the lump in his throat. his hands shook around the box. the weight of his mistake finally came crushing down on him when he realised just how heavy the consequences were. 

noticing sunghoon’s reaction, the cashier sighed, rubbing his head. 

“just have someone undo it for you. that’s probably the best option you got here—since,” he lifted an eyebrow, seeing sunghoon in a state of shock.

 “...you don’t wanna kill yourself.”

the cashier scanned all the one wish willows for sunghoon.

——

sunghoon knocked on jake’s door—loud, frantic, over and over until jake finally opened it, looking confused.

“hey, what’s up? you almost knocked my door over.”

sunghoon ignored it and pushed past him into the house. jake closed the door behind. the friend wanted to ask about the stain and blood on sunghoon’s shirt, but didn’t get the chance to when sunghoon began.

“is haewon here?”

jake frowned at his friend’s urgency before shaking his head. “no… she left cause she wanted to check up on yn…”

“what—?! fuck, uhm, okay, listen to me first. listen to me well. you know—you know how yn started acting all weird and liking me all of a sudden?”

jake nodded slowly, still confused. “...yeah?”

sunghoon pulled out one of the one wish willow boxes from his pocket and held it in front of jake with shaky fingers.

“it’s ‘cause… it’s ‘cause i made a wish. i made a wish—and i broke this twig and at first i was confused as hell but it’s real!”

jake frowned, staring back and forth between sunghoon and the box. “what…?”

“no, it’s real!” sunghoon insisted, voice shaking. “you can make a wish, but just one! just one… and it’ll work. i wished yn loved me, and i didn’t think it was gonna work but it worked and it’s why she’s acting insane all of a sudden!”

sunghoon’s voice cracked. “you don’t even recognise her anymore.”

a beat.

jake took it all in, quiet for a long moment. then he looked at sunghoon with wide, stunned eyes. 

“...you made a wish… on yn?”

sunghoon looked down on the box in his hands. “...yeah.”

jake was shocked, almost disgusted. it felt as if he didn’t know who was standing before him. “why the fuck would you do that… why the fuck would you wish something like that on her?”

“because i fucking like her, jake!” sunghoon exploded. “i fucking like her and you know it and you would’ve done the same too if you had this! and—and i know you guys have been fucking!” 

jake’s face hardened. “what the fuck? that’s none of your business! and for the record, you know i liked yn first. you fucking know it but you decided to like her too and i’m too kind of a friend to give that to you!”

he snapped, heart pounding. jake’s never fought with sunghoon this bad, ever.

quietly, like a murmur, he continued, “and no, i’m not that big of an asshole to wish something like this.”

sunghoon scoffed, bitter. “sure. right. ‘cause you’re yn’s most perfect guy that she loves. because you’ve been with her since childhood—so naturally, you guys are meant to be together? is that it?.” 

the tension in the room was suffocating. 

not being able to stand jake anymore, sunghoon swallowed the lump in his throat before storming away from the house, slamming the door behind him loudly.

——

“...yn…?”

the house was dark except for the slivers of sunlight cutting through the curtains and the candles flickering across the house. the air smelled like wax, and heavy with metal.

you were nowhere to be found.

but on the coffee table was a memorial, or at least what looked like it—photos of sieun, locks of her hair, her eyeball that threatened to roll out of the skull, her id, and her belongings from the car. 

there was also stuff of haewon’s, arranged carefully with flowers and little trinkets. it looked like a shrine too. 

next to the table, on the tv—played clips of sunghoon sleeping, with you recording and appearing every now and then.

sunghoon’s stomach dropped. “yn…?”

“i’m right here, baby.”

you stepped out from behind him.

you were wearing sieun’s clothes—a short denim skirt, boots, and a tight tank top. your hair was cut shorter, choppy, and you’d stabbed a nose piercing through your nostril. blood still trickled down from the fresh wound.

you smiled at him sweetly. 

“do you like me better now?” 

sunghoon was stunned, shocked into silence. his mouth opened, but no words came out. he couldn’t get his eyes off you.

“...yn… yn, i need you to do something for me… okay?”

you tilted your head, eyes wide and glassy. even after all these, you still weren’t enough for him. 

“why can’t you just love me? why don’t you love me?”

you started hitting yourself—hard, open–palmed slaps against your own face until sieun’s rings and bracelets split your cheek open, fresh blood running down. 

“i just want you to love me!”

“stop! stop!”  

you stopped, standing still. sunghoon stumbled backwards, backing away slowly, terrified. you stepped closer, voice dropping obsessively, hungrily, and almost sweetly inhumane.

“gosh, i want to eat you up… i want to be with you,” you licked your lips, tilting your head as you followed him. “i want you to love me… i love you more than anyone else in this world…”

sunghoon’s breath hitched.

outside, a loud knocking started on the door. 

jake’s voice came through, urgent. 

“dude, i’m sorry! i’m so sorry—tell me again what’s happening and let’s fix it! can we still save her?!”

sunghoon’s eyes widened. he fell back onto the couch, mouth open like he wanted to scream at jake not to come in—but he couldn’t bring himself to. the words died in his throat as he’s forced to look at you.

you straddled his lap, eyes wild and unhinged. the screaming outside grew louder as jake kept banging on the door. 

“hoon—i’m coming in! shit, i’m coming in!”

you pressed the tip of the knife you’d been holding right in front of your left eyes, smiling with pure psychotic glee as blood trailed out of your mouth. 

“i’ll kill myself, hoonie! i’ll fucking kill myself right in front of you!”

the horror in sunghoon’s face was pure. his body was shaking as he stared at the blade hovering too dangerously close to your eye.

right at that moment, you turned with crazy speed and hurled the knife toward the door.

THUD.

the blade sank deep right into jake’s chest the second he forced the door open. he stumbled back, eyes wide with shock as blood instantly soaked his shirt. he collapsed, back hitting the door shut.

dead, before he even hit the ground.

almost instantly, you turned back to sunghoon, fisted the collar of his shirt before screaming—

“i’ll rip my fucking eyes out of my skull and shove them up my fucking cunt, hoonie!”

you vomited stomach acid right at his face. sunghoon flinched, shutting his eyes as the warm, burning  liquid slid down his skin. 

he was trembling, broken, unsure what to do or what was real anymore, but the words still came out soft and full of the love that had ruined everything. 

“i love you. i love you, yn. i love you.”

you screamed at him, eyes wild. “scream it!”

“i love you! i love you, yn!”

like a flick of a wrist, you fell on top of him, sighing contentedly as you rubbed your cheek against his chest. your voice dropped into that sickly sweet tone again.

“i know… i know. i love you too, baby. you owe me that. you owe me that.” 

sunghoon’s voice was hoarse and dry as he lifted his arms to wrap them around your frail body. “we can… we can work this out.”

his hand came upon your head, brushing your hair. 

“mmhm. mmhm. i’m sorry for the drama… ugh, i don’t know why i do that. i know you love me. i’m gonna stop on the mollies…”

he nodded slowly, still in shock. if you could feel, or hear his heartbeat—you didn’t comment.

you nuzzled closer, kissing his jaw. “i’m such a mess… i’ll be pretty again, i promise."

“no, no,” he whispered, holding you tight as he planted a kiss on top of your head. “you’re gorgeous, baby. i love you so much. i love you.”

“i’m sorry—”

“you’re beautiful. my beautiful girl.”

you smiled against his neck, all soft and loving. 

“i love you so much. more than anyone else in this world.”

he knew that.

sunghoon closed his eyes and looked up, tears slipping down his cheeks. he’s fucked up. he’s fucked up like no one else ever did before. he’d ruined you—an angel, the sweetest girl anyone’s ever met. he’d turned you into a version of yourself not even your parents could recognise—admit it was theirs. 

a version not even you, would know. 

“let’s take a shower. let’s take a shower, okay? freshen ourselves up.”

you hummed happily. “mmhm.”

——

“open up! open this fucking door, hoonie!” 

you were yelling and slamming on the door like manic, voice shifting from wild rage and sickly sweet.

“baby, please… i’m sorry, i’m so sorry—did i scare you? just open the door. i love you. i love you so much. don’t leave me! don’t you dare leave me—!”

“let me in, bitch! fuck you, fuck you!”

“oh shit—just a second, baby! just a second!” he screamed back.

“okay, just a second. thank you!”

sunghoon stood in front of the sink, staring back at himself in the mirror. his face was bloodied—did some belong to him? some yours, some sieun’s. he’d like to think jake’s and haewon’s were there too.

his eyes were empty. he couldn’t cry if he wanted to. there was just nothing left.

he touched the onyx necklace you had given him, the stone cold—meant for protection and grounding, felt meaningless in his hand. 

“baby?”

a beat.

“i thought about what you said, and maybe you were right… we need some time apart for us…”

sunghoon opened the cabinet with shaking hands and pulled out a razor. he held it to his wrist, then his throat, then his neck—aiming for the spot that would it fast. 

his hand trembled as he pushed the blade deeper into his skin, not yet puncturing, but making a dent.

he couldn’t do it.

“if space is what you need—then sure, okay, we can take some space.”

sunghoon pulled away with a deep breath, shaking his head and tossing the razor aside. he rubbed his face and pressed the heels of his palms deep into his eyes—praying this was all some sick nightmare that was about to end.

and then he’d wake up, and everything will be fine. you’ll invite him over for a movie night where he would come in bringing popcorn and drinks. and he’ll confess—tell you everything he’s been keeping to himself.

just like the way he rehearsed it. 

“i’m really sorry for scaring you, hoonie. i just—i just love you but i want to respect your decision.”

instead, sunghoon opened the cabinet again and found the old bottle of insect poison pellets—the same ones that had killed kibbles.

he sat on the toilet, staring at the bottle for a long moment. he knew there was no turning back. he poured one pellet into his palm, then put it in his mouth and swallowed it.

not convinced enough, he dumped the rest of the bottle straight into his mouth and forced them all down, choking them dry.

“hoonie…? baby, please open the door…”

sunghoon got off the toilet and rested his forehead against the door, when he knew you were standing and waiting for him on the other side of the door. 

he spoke softly, exhausted.

“um, yn… i… i’m really sorry.”

he swallowed hard, eyes closed.

“i’ve liked you for so long. so fucking long. i just… i couldn’t find the courage to confess. i thought you didn’t like me back and i was scared of losing you,” sunghoon said, the tip of his nose brushing against the hard wood.

“and now… now this is happening and there’s nothing i can do to fix it. i just like you so much. i love you so much.”

a beat of silence.

it felt like hours passed in a matter of seconds.

then a whisper, barely audible through the door—

“she likes you too.”

sunghoon’s eyes snapped open.

“what?”

before something shifted.

a spark ignited within him. the world snapped back into focus as the heavy fog that clouded everything lifted. 

his eyes widened. he stared at the bathroom door like it was the first time he was seeing it. slowly, sunghoon opened the door and walked out.

you were standing across from him, smiling shyly at him, a little nervous, a little hopeful. your hands are clasped in front of you. all sweet and innocent girlfriend.

he smiled back.

the two of you laughed together.

it was romantic when he approached you. sunghoon leaned in and kissed you passionately, hands cupping your face. his lips moved against yours with all the love and longing he had. on your tiptoes, you cupped his cheeks as well and with a soft flick of his tongue, you parted your lips partly and he wasted no time slipping his tongue in, overlapping and dancing your own. 

“i love you,”

when sunghoon pulled back slightly, his face was covered in blood from your wound, but neither of you cared. 

then suddenly, his knees buckled.

sunghoon collapsed—but you caught him, lowering him onto the sofa on your lap. pure panic flooding your face as you cradled his cheeks, hands trembling.

“baby… babe… oh gosh, don’t leave me alone—what did you do? oh gosh, baby no!” 

your voice cracked, high and desperate, as you searched his face for anything. his eyelids fluttered, skin already turning clammy. you could feel his warmness fading beneath your palms.

“no, no, no—stay with me. stay with me, baby,” you whispered, pressing frantic kisses to his forehead, his temples, his lips. tears streamed down your cheeks, mixing with the blood still drying on your hands. “you can’t leave me. i love you more than anything. i did everything for you… everything. don’t you dare go. i won’t let you.”

you wailed, hugging his head tightly to your chest, rocking him back and forth. you stroked his hair while the other clutched his shirt, fingers digging into the fabric as if that could hold his soul down.

sobs wrecked your entire body as you buried your face in his hair, breathing in his scent. his breathing was growing weaker and shallower—white foam of saliva began forming to the corner of his mouth as his body went limp. 

"i love you... i love you so much, hoonie, please—"

his body gave one final, weak shudder in your arms.

then everything went still.

for a heartbeat, the room was silent except for your ragged breathing.

the moment his heart stopped beating, you snapped back. 

your eyes widened in horror—followed by a blood-curdling scream ripped from your throat as you shoved yourself backward, letting sunghoon's limp body fall onto the bloodied floor with a dull thud. 

you stared at your bloodstained hands first—they were coated in sticky crimson that you could probably never remove no matter how many times you washed your hands. then your gaze darted around the room, confused, panicked, scared.

jake's body slumped by the door, eyes still open.

the memorial of haewon's and sieun's on the table.

and... sunghoon's motionless on the floor when you'd pushed him off you.

the wish shattered, and reality crashed over you like ice water.

"no... no, no, no—"

you scrambled onto the sofa, pulling your legs up and hugging your knees tightly to your chest. your sobs came harder and harder, violent, whole body shaking as you rocked back and forth. 

tears poured down your face as you buried it between your knees, screaming and sobbing louder. the weight of every horrible thing you had done—despite being only a witness hit you at once.

you were finally yourself again.

and you had never felt more alone.

ㅤ© ⌞hoonkitti⌝ ⁞ all rights reservedㅤ please don't share, copy, or translate my work.

the first time he was exposed to the idea was when he was a young teenager alone in his room. he was playing an online game when he accidentally clicked a shady advertisement that brought him to another website—a hentai website. 

curious, adolescent, and horny, sunghoon clicked on a particular video that stood out to him. it was about a shapeshifter who fucked his lover, then got overstimulated and shifted into a big, heavy bear before biting off the head of the woman. that scene stuck and buried itself deep in the crevices of sunghoon’s mind.

how powerful, sunghoon thought; to love someone to the point of aggression.

from then, he began to believe that love is meant to be devoured and devouring. even the bible itself is full of consumption when it says—the holiest act of devotion is the ritual of eating the christ’s flesh, to drink his blood—because to love God is to consume him. 

love is consumption, and faith is flesh, and it is all intertwined. 

the boy also knew that in ancient greece, lovers would bite each other until they bled, which quickly became the proof of passion marked by bruised skin and torn lips. the king and queen of gods—rhea and cronus—were no strangers to hunger either. cronus swallowed his own 5 children whole as soon as rhea delivered them in fear that his newborns would one day overthrow him. there was also zeus, who swallowed metis for his own benefit—but sunghoon liked to think it was so that she could never leave him.

love was never gentle, and it was apparent in folklore too. sunghoon didn’t understand it back then why the witch fattened children before the feast, the vampire draining his lover dry, the wolf licking his sharp, fangy teeth before sinking it deep into the plush flesh of little red. 

but that was years ago, he was a child back then, he screamed and cried when his little sister bit his finger. sunghoon understood it now—love was to take. love was to consume. love was to destroy.

while they were not romantic by any means, there’s a similarity, a fine line barely blurred between cannibalism and wanting to have someone be as close to you as possible, physically. both are driven by an insatiable need, an urge—although once devoured, what else is left? even then, it’s still not close enough.

——

sunghoon had seen your stuff before he saw you. 

his neighbour moved out a few months ago from a job offer in another state, and for 4 months, the room was left vacant. not that he was complaining—it was better for him that way. he could play his instruments, games, have friends over, and blast music as loud as he wished to without having someone pounding on his door, telling him to shut the fuck up. for four months, he was in heaven.

but heaven on earth doesn't last forever.

and this was better than any heaven could offer.

he wasn’t curious in any way so neither him, nor you, ever introduced yourselves to one another. there was no housewarming party from you, and sunghoon didn’t bother showing up with fruitcakes.

but slowly, he started noticing. not in a friendly or neighbourly way of exchanging polite nods of acknowledgement or holding the elevator door open—hell, he didn’t even bump into you or cross paths.

no, sunghoon noticed you in the way a shadow notices the body it follows. 

it started with the small things. the cardboard boxes stacked in front of your door from your move a couple days ago (that were still there, even after weeks), labeled in rushed neat handwriting, a packed delivery food hung on your doorknob, the perfume scent of white flower lingered in the air when he exited his door for morning classes. 

you, to sunghoon, were just a collection and fragments of objects and moments.

then, he started noticing more than just things.

sunghoon started listening too. 

the wall that separated the two rooms was thinner than anybody would like to have. so thin he could hear the sneeze you held back, your conversations with your parents, the refrigerator noise when you didn’t fully close it, your dryer signalling the end. so thin he could hear your humming to your favourite song while you were showering, the blurred and incoherent dialogues from late–night sitcoms you’d left turned on the whole night. 

so thin he prayed you wouldn’t hear the things he did in the dark. 

soon, sunghoon found out that you attended the same university as he did—your name printed among the rosters as his. fate hadn’t been kind to him often, but now it seemed and felt like it was cradling him. 

he took forensic science, while you took education. it fits you, sunghoon thought—you were soft-spoken in the hallways when you thanked the other neighbour for leftovers, or when he had overheard you scolding your little brother for something, and sunghoon couldn’t tell if you were mad, or disappointed. 

you’d make a great mother.

the first time sunghoon properly saw you, he was alone on the complex’s rooftop. a cigarette smoldered between his lips, the night sky cracked open above him. you weren’t occupied in his mind nor was he searching for you, yet there you were. 

like a sacrament being offered—body and blood disguised in soft skin and breath.

walking along the entrance with your cardigan clutched tight around your frame, tote bag hanging loose off your shoulder. your steps were small, unhurried, the rhythm that told him you probably thought you were safe since you were already in the area. the cold breeze caught in your hair and pulled strands across your cheek.

sunghoon’s chest cinched tight. you’re adorable, he hummed. taking another drag of his cigarette. no, adorable is an understatement. there was something soft about the way you move, the innocence swimming in your eyes, the little push of your lip against your cheek. 

how unfair, he exhaled slowly. feeling the smoke escaping his lungs. someone like you existed in the same world as him. 

he watched—you were so far below despite living right next his door. sunghoon watched as your figure slipped into the building and out of sight, and he realised he was holding his breath—lungs aching not from the smoke, but from something more, something’s missing.

the ember at the tip of his cigarette had burned out completely, leaving only the taste of ash in his mouth.

the taste… so familiar—so close to what he felt when he came to the hentai he watched when he was younger. 

——

you were like a disease—and sunghoon the host. it began with a single spore in his lungs that went unseen but felt–able, then multiplied with each breath until he was drowning, and all sunghoon could feel was raw ache.

you curled into his veins until every beat of his heart pumped you deeper and deeper. his body became a chamber of contagion, gnawed hollow by desire.

 “—hoon, sunghoon!” 

his head jerked up, thoughts breaking like glass. jake was staring at him across the cafeteria table, brows slightly furrowed. sunghoon blinked and brought his latte to his lips, snapping out of it. “you spaced out again, man. what’s gotten into you?”

sunghoon licked his lips, wetting it before shaking his head. “nothing,” he murmured, setting his cup down. “what were you saying?” 

jake studied him for a moment longer, then shrugged it off. “the communication department is holding a festival this weekend for every major. there’ll be food stalls and booths and we’re all going to support sunoo. figured you might want to tag along.”

sunghoon pursed his lips, stirring the liquid in his cup with the flimsy wooden stirrer. yeah—he had no plans for the weekend except bedrotting and completing the endless tedium of reports. his professors were merciless with deadlines and memorising blood samples and decomposition stages—but he figured he could make time for some fun.

“sure,” he gave a small, practiced nod. jake smiled, already leaning back in his chair to ramble about his days. sunghoon let the words wash over him, feigning interest with the occasional hum. his mind was elsewhere but here.

sunghoon wondered what you could be doing right now. it’s lunchtime. do you have lunch in the cafeteria? crossed legs and stirring your juice and laughing with your friends? he tried to picture what you’d order. you didn’t seem like someone who’d for anything greasy—maybe something light. like a sandwich, or pasta.

what kind of meat do you like? sunghoon wondered, eyes drifting toward the untouched food on his own plate. what do girls as pretty as you even eat?

beef, maybe—rich and dark, the kind that melts apart in your mouth if cooked just right… tender, but tough if overcooked. sunghoon hated that the most. maybe chicken, simple and clean and hard to mess up. he could picture you chewing slowly, suppressing a smile. pork, though—he thought of the sweetness of it, the glaze, the stickiness that would cling to your fingers. but pork carries pathogens and parasites that are hard to kill despite being cooked. 

you wouldn’t like that. 

again, sunghoon imagined you savouring it—taking small bites politely, licking the sauce from your thumb—unconscious, devastating. you never realised that someone out there would’ve given anything to taste you.

“—jesus, hoon,” jake waved a hand in front of sunghoon, knocking reality into him. he blinked, swallowing the saliva he didn’t realise was pooling in the back of his throat. he straightened up, looking at jake. “yeah?”

“what time are you free this saturday?” 

——

“i’ll just takeaway a salad, thank you.” 

you’re a vegetarian ever since you could remember. you didn’t eat meat by choice, lived untouched by blood and bone and filth. your meals were soft in colour, greens, steamed broccoli, grains, nuts. 

you preferred knowing nothing died for your sake—food that never screamed, never struggled, never bled. you ate gently, every bite was an act of mercy. 

“just that?” wonyoung asked, thanking the cashier as she tapped her card on the terminal. you nodded, taking the bag from the waitress. “yeah, this is enough,” you hummed, smiling. “i really can’t afford eating too much and puking later.” 

your friend nodded, linking her arm around your wrist as the two of you made your way out. “is sunoo already there? has he texted you yet?” she asked, peeking slightly from your shoulder as you fished your phone out. 

“mm, hold on,” you murmured, thumb swiping across the screen. “he’s already there,” you said, glancing up at her. “he said he’d told jiwoo that we’ll be a little late.” 

wonyoung grinned. “thank god. i don’t want her to nag in our ears later.” 

“no one dares to nag at you, wony!”

the air was already beginning to be filled with chatter and sizzles from the food stalls lined up beneath unlit string lights. the scent of oil and spice hung heavy. you, wonyoung, and sunoo sat crowded around a small metal table, your takeaway salad box nearly empty, spork resting on the rims of your bowl. 

“god, this was so good,” wonyoung sighed, leaning back in her chair. “now i have some energy to serve for the next seven hours.” 

sunoo laughed, wiping his mouth with a napkin. “thanks for the meal, wony. i didn’t have time to drop by to get breakfast.” 

wonyoung waved a dismissive hand. “it’s fine, don’t mention it! we prefer not rushing anyway.”

before you could respond, a voice cut through the din. 

“kim sunoo!” 

the three of you looked up. jake was grinning, waving as he made his way over with heeseung and sunghoon trailing behind him. 

“oh, you guys are here so early!” sunoo perked up, waving them over. “yeah,” heeseung said, still standing beside jake. “we figured we’d check out the other booths before the crowd gets worse.” jake nodded, “yeah, then we’ll come back for you again during lunch.”

then, jake leaned forward slightly, eyeing your table. “man, this looks good. you got food without us, sunoo?”

“you were late,” sunoo teased, nudging his forearm playfully. “anyway, this is wonyoung, and—” he turned toward you with an easy smile. “—this is yn. my friends from the education department.” 

wonyoung gave a polite wave, and you just smiled, murmuring a quick hello. 

sunoo then gestured to the three boys. “and these are my high school friends—jake, heeseung, sunghoon.” 

you looked up at the name, eyes briefly meeting sunghoon’s but staying the longest as he was the last one to be introduced. there was a flicker of recognition—or something close to it—but you brushed it off just quickly. 

“nice to meet you,” you said softly.

sunghoon’s lips quirked into a polite half–smile. “yeah,” he murmured, voice low enough that it nearly disappeared under the hum of the crowd—meant only for you. “you too.” 

like a blooming flower in rot, something unfurling where it shouldn’t. that quiet sickness—nourished by the ghost of your gaze—spread slow beneath his ribs.

he saw the crumpled paper bag from the restaurant, half–buried in the trash beside the booth. his friends were already walking ahead. “go on, i’ll catch up,” sunghoon called, forcing a small smile.

they didn’t think much of it.

when they turned the corner, sunghoon stood before the bin, his shadow looming across the metal. his fingers brushed against the paper. it still held the faint scent of greens. opening it, the container inside was empty except for smudges of sauces.

sunghoon stared for a moment too long. then, as though he couldn’t control his body, he peeled open the plastic container—and slipped the spork you’d used into his pocket.

pulse thudding in his throat—something sweet and rotten bloomed quietly in his chest. 

——

sunghoon didn’t talk to you for the rest of the festival—not like there was a reason to in the first place. you were with your friends, and he was with his’. while you were doing your task in your little food stall both, he lingered somewhere in the periphery, eyes observing you handling the food.

it’s alright, he reassured himself. the two of you are neighbours. for any time sunghoon decides that he wants to talk to you, he can just knock on your door. simple. easy.

the day ended like any other.

that night, sunghoon set the spork on his desk. unwashed. the faint smell of vinaigrette still clung to it, sweet and sour. was that the flavour you liked? sunghoon thought you’d prefer something more umami. 

he placed it neatly beside his keyboard, the plastic catching the lamplight.

it’s weird. it definitely was. no sane person would rummage through the bin and take a used item. especially one that had entered someone’s mouth. that’s disgusting—unsanitary, even. 

sunghoon knew that. he wasn’t stupid.

but there was something about it—the evidence that you had touched something he could hold. disgusting, he thought. then again, he didn’t put it back. 

in fact… he wanted to do it again. 

“later?” you talked over the phone, the device pressed between your ear and your shoulder as you washed the dishes. you glanced at the clock on the wall, chewing the inside of your cheek. “no, i can’t… sorry. i promised jin–sol i’ll come over tonight to study.”

the plates made a slight clinking noise when you placed them on the dish rack, wiping your hands dry. “maybe tomorrow? it’s been almost two weeks since the festival and the data team still hasn’t sent their analysis anyway.” 

“yeah, tomorrow i’ll come over. sorry, toni.”

this was it—you weren’t going to be home for a few hours. sunghoon heard it all from his room as he pressed his ear against the wall, eavesdropping. his pulse quickened when he heard the sound of your footsteps, the jingle of your keys, then the soft click of the door closing—each detail carved into his nerves.

fuck, he’s really going to do it. 

sunghoon sat still for a moment before slowly creeping out of his apartment, peeking from the hallway balcony to make sure your silhouette had disappeared from turning the corner. the air outside felt heavier somehow—maybe because of what he was going to do.

he stood in front of your door. sunghoon knew where you kept your emergency key—buried beneath the wilted soil of one of the flower pots, tucked away like a secret. his fingers brushed against the damp earth, searching, soil stuck beneath his fingernails, and sunghoon only stooped when the cold metal finally kissed his skin. 

the lock clicked open with a soft sound—almost too easy, he thought. sunghoon didn’t wait a second lingering there as he immediately slipped inside, not wanting to get caught by the other tenants. 

your apartment was clean, smelled faintly of your detergent and something floral. a pair of cat slippers sat neatly by the entrance, an umbrella leaned against the wall. everything had its place and purpose. 

he trailed his fingers along the edge of your counter. there was a mug in the sink, lipstick–stained on the rim, the water inside was just tap. your living room was small, a folded blanket on the couch, book facedown, faint indentation on the cushion where you sat.

sunghoon then took a slow step toward your bedroom door. this was the closest he had ever been to you in terms of intimacy. he’d seen you before, of course—at the festival—but this was quiet, private. 

this was you with the things you left behind. 

his breath caught as he turned the knob, the faint creak of hinge slicing through. the scent inside was different—warmer, more personal, it smelled like your honey shampoo, your vanilla lotion, your mist. yeah, all of those belonged on your skin, didn’t they? 

sunghoon’s gaze darted across the room: your bed, slightly rumpled, cardigan draped over the chair; a bottle on the nightstand. 

but it wasn’t your bedroom that he was interested in—the fridge hummed softly. that’s what he wanted to know. what you ate. what kept you alive.

“let’s see…” sunghoo crouched, fingers curling around the handle as he pulled the door open. cold air washed over him, sharp and clean, and inside—neat rows of containers, fruits sealed in public, half–finished salad bowls. your world was colourless. green and yellows, nothing red,

nothing raw. 

your fridge had not a single meat to it.

his gaze lingered on a jar of olives and pickles, a small tub of hummus and greek yogurt. these food that don’t bleed when bitten into. sunghoon tilted his head. “you eat clean, huh,” he muttered, studying the paper bag of wrapped sweet potatoes. 

he imagined you eating it—your tongue brushing over vegetables, your teeth never knowing what it's like ripping apart fleshes. then, sunghoon wondered what you would look like tasting something heavier, darker. filling your mouth with warmth and iron—because there was no way greens would taste good hot. 

sunghoon turned away from the fridge, shutting it as his eyes drifted to the small bin beside the counter. heart pacing quick and uneven as his fingers dipped into the pile. “god…” every sound in the apartment seemed to grow louder as he rummaged through the trash bin.

pushing aside fruit peels, paper towels, plastic wrappers—sunghoon’s hand came in contact with a plastic cup. a paper straw. faintly bent, slightly wet, the tip stained a soft shade of pink. your lipstick.

the proof that your mouth had been there made his stomach twist. lifting it to his nose, sunghoon inhaled the tip of the straw—very faintly sweet of your matcha, artificial lipstick scent but you, nonetheless. 

what the fuck am i doing…? the thought occurred to him as he tucked the straw into his pocket, flattening the limp paper straw.  sunghoon moved through your apartment like a shadow without its owner. 

the next door he opened was the bathroom—small for two, tiled, faintly damp and still wet. the mirror was fogged at the corners, toothpaste crusted by the sink. your toothbrush rested in a cup, pale bristles worn from daily use.

sunghoon’s throat felt dry as he stood before the mirror, looking everywhere but his reaction. he was ashamed, humiliated, disgusted—but fuck, he couldn’t help it. his fingers curled around the small handle, staring at it—the soft drag of bristles against your gums, pressed into your tongue—how it must’ve tasted like peach mint and saliva and you. 

slowly, sunghoon brought his head up—his reflection looked wrong and calm—eyes hollowed with want as he brought the brush to his lips. the bristles grazed his teeth. it was an absurd imitation of closeness, he knew, yet something in him swelled with a trembling sort of pleasure.

is this how you taste like? part of you? the sound of bristles dragging faintly against his teeth filled the silence. sunghoon pressed it harder, dragging them across his enamel until the flavour bloomed into something he swore tasted like you and him at once. 

saliva pooled, thick and warm, he swallowed alongside the leftover dried paste. 

his tongue found the bristles next—slow—searching the places your tongue had pressed, the grooves where you spit had dried. each stroke only aroused his curiousity—is this the curve of your gum? is this the soft underside of your lip?

the toothbrush was making a map on sunghoon’s tongue. a low sound escaped him—half groan, half moan—when he tasted the faint iron of his own blood mixing with the mint from brushing too hard. the bristles were soaked now, darkened with the pink of his gums but still he dragged them back and forth, back and forth. 

look at you, his reflection stared back at him. look at what you’re doing. sunghoon watched his mouth open, watched the toothbrush disappear between his lips like a lover’s finger. his thighs pressed together against the sudden ache, fuck, this was giving him a hard–on.

when he pulled the brush free, strings of saliva stretched and snapped. sunghoon rinsed the brush under the tap, watching the swirl down the drain like a secret. then he placed it back in its holder, bristles up, exactly where you’d left it.

sunghoon by no means is religious—but in christianity, as what he was taught when he attended a christian kindergarten and sunday churches, saints’ relics were kept, and sometimes ingested. holy fragments of the divine sealed in boxes for believers to kneel before. 

a way to keep faith close, to let holiness rot beautifully in glass.

he supposed he was a devout now if you were a religion.

in the ritual of his own making—the straw, a single sock, a strand of hair snagged in a hair tie he’d found in the bedroom, a discarded band–aid carefully in tissue. small things you would never notice missing anyway.

next time, he’ll be bolder.

——

“kim sunoo!” jake’s voice cut through the chatter of the restaurant, loud enough to turn a few heads. he waved from across the table, grinning. sunoo smiled, waving back. “i brought wonyoung and yn too. figured it’d be nice.” 

“that’s alright, the more the merrier anyway.” heeseung smiled, greeting the two of you. you and wonyoung sat opposite of sunoo, quietly placing your respective orders. the table got lively quickly with jake’s cheerful demeanor, and heeseung’s outgoing personality. sunghoon though, sitting at the far end, hadn’t said much, just the occasional nod and hum. 

but you supposed you too, content with listening to their stories. to anyone else, sunghoon looked indifferent, disinterested. but every now and then, his eyes flickered toward you. he watched the way you gathered your hair in one hand (was it because he took your hairband?) to sip your soup, the way you laughed and leaned to everything wonyoung said. 

everything you did was small and nothing remarkable, yet it caught him like static. 

watching you now was strange. weird, even. sunghoon had been inside your house more than once after that night. had touched your things, had used your toothbrush and lotion, laid on your bed, pressed his palm against the hollow your body left on the sheets.

and yet, the real thing was here. so oblivious to the things that were happening to you—your apartment while you were gone. so oblivious that he was your neighbour eavesdropping to your everyday life through the thin wall. so unaware that your nail clipper and earpick had been used, shoes had been sniffed, spoons had been licked. 

yeah. as long as you had zero idea about it, sunghoon should be alright. 

he might be disgusting, but you’re a plain idiot.

“i’m so sorry i can’t send you back tonight, yn,” wonyoung frowned, glancing at her phone. “my sister needs me to pick her up from the station.” 

you waved her off with a small laugh. “it’s fine, wony. i don’t live far.” 

“still. text me when you get home, okay?” wonyoung pressed, already half turned toward her parked car. “mmhm,” you nodded, giving her a quick hug before stepping into the night. 

you didn’t notice him at first. sunghoon walked a few paces behind. everyone left almost at the same time—pretending to check his phone, pretending he didn’t see you in front or the fact that he knew you guys were neighbours. 

it wasn’t until you turned a corner that you caught the faint echo of footsteps matching yours. you slowed down, so did he. your fingers curled around your strap tighter, when you glanced back, you saw him—tall, eyes downcast. 

sunghoon looked up then, caught your gaze—your steps faltered—and for a brief, awkward moment, the silence stretched. 

“...uh,” you said, swallowing the lump in your throat. “sunghoon, right?”

sunghoon’s lips twitched into the faintest smile, almost polite. “yeah,” he murmured, rubbing the back of his neck. “hey.”

you nodded quickly, slightly relieved that at least it wasn’t some creep or pervert or rapist. that it was a mutual… friend? someone your bestfriend knew. “do you live around here?” you asked softly, coming to a stop.

sunghoon took a few steps closer, it didn't bother you. “yeah,” he replied, gesturing with his hand toward the building across the street. “i live in that one.” 

you followed his gesture, letting your gaze travel to the familiar shape of the apartment. that’s where you lived too! “what, really?” a small laugh escaped your lips. “that’s… i live there too.” 

he raised his eyebrows, lips parting slightly. “you serious?” he chuckled, feigning confusion. “that’s a crazy coincidence. what room?” he added. sunghoon looked like he was genuinely curious in your eyes. 

“33A, and you?” 

you watched as his eyes widened just a fraction. “...32A,” he said, voice low, a shy laugh escaped him. “right next door, huh?” you blinked, a little startled by the coincidence. “yeah… oh wow—we’re literally neighbours…”

he nodded slowly, as if letting the reality settle. “that’s… uh, crazy,” he murmured, brushing another hand over the back of his neck. there was a pause, a strange tension in the air. you smiled nervously, finding yourself walking alongside sunghoon.

“how come i never noticed you?” you broke the silence, looking up at him. sunghoon glanced down at you. your eyelashes are really pretty, aren’t they? long, curved, brushing against your cheeks… your mascara sure is lucky, pressed so close to the wet shine of your eyes, kissing the thin skin every time you blink, drinking in the salt of your tears and running down your cheeks when it’s wet.

“...not sure,” sunghoon finally replied, swallowing the lump in his throat. he broke his gaze, looking forward. “i’m not home often, so…” he murmured in reply, shrugging. “how come i never noticed you?” 

lies after lies.

you smiled, now it was your turn to shrug. “i’m not always home either,” you replied, tilting your head just enough for the streetlight to catch the gloss on your lower lip. “and i just moved so maybe that’s why.” 

sunghoon couldn’t focus on what you were saying, his gaze snagged at the plump, shiny, imprint of your teeth where you’d bitten down earlier when you probably thought you were being followed. oh yn, the danger is closer than you thought it is. 

that lip gloss, was it the one he saw on your vanity? the one he wanted to take, but it’d probably be too obvious, he thought.  cherry, maybe. or vanilla, if lip gloss had scents. 

sunghoon wanted to lean in, wanted to drag his tongue across that shine and taste the wax and heat and your lips. he wanted to kiss you until the gloss smeared across his mouth, until the flavour was indistinguishable from the salt of his skin. he wanted to bite down your lower lip, to hear the small startled moan you’d make when his teeth met flesh.

but of course, he didn’t. he looked away before you noticed. 

“sunoo will be so surprised if he knew we were neighbours.” you giggled, a smile etched across your face. “then he’ll come over more often, just so he can hang out.” you continued, running your hand through your hair.

sunghoon just managed a soft yeah, swallowing the urge. his tongue pressed to the side of his cheek. if i take it now, you’ll know. if i take it now, you’ll run, the thought hissed. 

by the time you knew it, the two of you were in the elevator heading up to the third floor.

“oh we’re here,” you said, stopping in front of your door. the old hallway light flickered once, then twice before steadied. you turned the key and the door sighed open. did you know sunghoon know where you kept your extra key? 

sunghoon unlocked his door too, waiting for you to step inside first. “that didn’t feel like a long walk.” he chuckled, smiling. you smiled, leaning against the frame. “well,” you hummed, eyelashes fluttering prettily. “night, neighbour.”

he nodded, throat dry. “night.”

you hesitated then lifted your hand in a small wave. the door shut with a soft thud, then the lock slid home.

sunghoon stayed in the hallway, staring at the 33A number until it felt like they blurred. just three steps from his own door. his key scraped the lock, inside, the dark greeted him. 

tomorrow, he decided. tomorrow he’d borrow sugar. tomorrow he’d stand closer. and soon, he’d taste the gloss for real. the obsession settled in his chest, it was still something he couldn’t quite name, but it had teeth now, still small but growing.

only hunger had a name, and it wanted you. 

——

ever since that night, things had… shifted. subtly at first.

like magic, you and sunghoon started running into each other more often—sometimes at the garbage disposable downstairs, sometimes at the lobby mailbox, sometimes the two of you left your rooms at the same time. he’d always smile, small and reserved while you were always embarrassed to be caught at the same time.

it became a quiet routine. you’d wave when you saw him through the balcony smoking, he’d greet you in the morning, and before long, it felt strange not to see him around after… practically never seeing him at all since the past few months. 

you supposed it’s true—that once you become aware of someone, you can never stop. 

“hngh, fuck, fuck, fuck,”

sunghoon’s forehead rested against the thin wall that separated your apartment from his’, big hand clamped around his bigger cock as he jerked himself off. he was on his knees, legs splayed just enough for balance. 

“i’m making dinner, right now,” you said, phone pressed between your shoulder and your ear. on the other line that only you heard, wonyoung asked what you were doing. it’s a friday night, and everyone was apparently too busy for a hangout. 

“gym? you’re going to the gym right now?”

he let out a soft, inaudible groan under his breath silently as he pressed the palm of his hand against the hardening cock, pumping his cock back and forth with his eyes shut tightly. if he tried hard enough, he could imagine you splayed underneath him, legs spreaded—showing that pretty, meaty pussy that was all his to devour. 

gym—hah, fuck, sunghoon thought. you didn’t need that. you didn’t need to lift or sweat or burn away the softness that made sunghoon so captivated to you. you were already perfect—so tender in all the right places, so soft it made his jaw ache and teeth sensitive just thinking about it.

it’d be so nice to bite you, flesh between his teeth as he grinded and dug his canines inside… 

his cock throbs in his hand at the mere thought, the length of it bobbed and seemingly increased. the head of it was red and flushed, oozing out beads of precum that trailed over his hand. 

“ngh, f—fuck, yn, keep talking,” he moaned softly, chest heaving, the sound barely audible against the quiet hum of his room. his breath was uneven, quick. every inhale trembled, every exhale came out in a low, broken sigh.

his cock was so achingly painful. 

“he’s still bothering you? using a new number?”

his hips twitched as he began thrusting his cock in his fist like cunt, his wet cum making it easier for sunghoon to glide his cock back and forth, his other hand braced against the wall, palm pressed firm. something needed to keep him grounded as his body trembled, his forehead rested close to his wrist.

in short, hot bursts of breath, spine arched with each staggered breath as he fucked his fist. squelching noise filled the room from where his skin met the base of his cock. he wanted to sink into the thought of you, chew through the distance until there was nothing left between your body and his need.

“men are shit, anyway… did you report him to the professor?”

sunghoon increased his pace in stroking his cock, his thumb rolling around the tip of his flushed head, suppressing from cumming—he did not want to cum just yet. sunghoon was so hungry. the kind of imagination sunghoon had was not like the other guys when they jerked off to the girl they liked. 

he didn’t just want to make love to you, he wanted to consume you. he wanted to more than just lick your pussy, he wanted to eat it. press his teeth on the flesh, tug on your little clit. sunghoon didn’t want to just fondle your tits, he wanted to squeeze those boobs until the flesh spilled between his fingers.

it was more than lust—it was appetite. 

“oh, i cooked extra—should i send some to sunghoon? did you know he’s my ne—”

sunghoon groaned softly, painfully suppressing his moan in his stomach as he tipped his head back. “oh, fuck, fuck, fuck, ‘m cummin yn, ‘m cummin for you,” his entire body tensed, his huge cock jumped in his hand as he came, cum spurting all over his wall. he panted, shoulders dropped as the semen trailed down slowly like waterdrop.

that concluded it. sunghoon didn’t just want you—it was clear now. 

he wanted to live inside your skin and be your birth and death and your beginning and end and your undoing and betterment. he wanted to eat you whole, to tear flesh by flesh, chew your skin between his teeth, grind your strands of hair, bite off your fingers and toes, and to suck off your tender meat off your bone like marrow.

sunghoon’s eyes widened, and he spiraled, eyes spinning, head gyrating. he needed to ingest you, to metabolise you in him. 

you too—yeah. you can have sunghoon’s heart, if you can stomach it.

sunghoon looked down on his cum covered hand, strings of semen dripping down his digits and onto the floor. he’s ashamed and humiliated at himself, but there was nothing he wanted to do to fix it. 

“—hoon? sunghoon?” 

his head snapped towards the door, eyes wide and panicked, heart hammering, he scrambled, jerking his pants up and fumbling with the waistband, hands shaking as he tied the ribbon. the sound of the faucet splashing echoed through the small kitchen as he hurriedly washed his hands, water running over his skin and washing away his sins.

sunghoon opened the door before you could knock for the second time, leaning against the frame. “hey, sorry,” he tried controlling his breath, chest rose. “i was… in the bathroom.” 

you smiled, shaking your head dismissively. “it’s okay, i should’ve texted. i made too much food. thought you might be hungry.”

yeah. his eyes flicked to the container in your hands—japchae. but with mushrooms and tofu instead of meat. he swallowed, forcing a casual nod. “ah… yeah, i haven’t had dinner yet anyway,” he said, stepping aside lightly.

“if you haven’t either, do you wanna eat together?” 

you blinked, slightly taken aback at the offer. the thought of eating together, especially one that’s invited, almost made your stomach flutter. after a brief pause, you nodded shyly. “mmhm… sure.”

he gave a faint smile. letting you slip past him, sunghoon shut the door close, taking the container from you to place it on the dining table. 

you sat across sunghoon, unpacking the japchae. “so…” you began, reaching for the chopsticks. “just what were you up to, today?” sunghoon lifted a small bundle of noodles to his mouth, looking at you from his bangs. 

today? today i cum to you. 

“nothing much,” he shrugged. the flavours were simple and clean. “just completed some reports and… yeah, that’s pretty much all.” he glanced as you ate, trying not to stare, yet stealing glimpses when you weren’t looking. “what about you?”

you hummed, chewing and swallowing. the munched noodles bobbed from beneath your throat. “also nothing interesting,” you chuckled, pressing your lips together. “except i just learned how to make japchae so… you’re like the first one to try.” 

sunghoon let out a soft, amused hum, the corner of his lips twitching. “so i’m your test subject?”

“mm, yeah, i guess you could say that,” you replied, smirking. the tension that had hung in the room since he’d opened the door eased just a little. sunghoon tilted his head, eyes narrowing slightly with curiosity. 

“it’s really good. but… you don’t eat meat, yn?” 

you shook your head, fingers pausing. “no, ever since i can remember. i just… can’t.” your tone softened, almost apologetic, though not ashamed. “i can’t handle the blood, the… killing. knowing they suffer for me, for my own hunger—i can’t eat something that’s been hurt. it makes me feel… guilty.”

sunghoon’s gaze flickered down to his plate. of course, he thought, you were gentle, careful, soft in all the ways he wanted to consume. and yet, here you were, refusing the very thing that sunghoon might have wanted to offer—the rawness, the bite, the blood.

he forced a small nod, swallowing the strange curl of disappointment and fascination that pooled in his stomach. you didn’t want to eat living beings, yet here sunghoon was. “i… see,” he murmured, looking up at you with an understanding smile. “you’re just kind like that, yn.”

you giggled, shaking your head. “nooo, please, i’m not,” you took a sip of your drink. “besides, i didn’t grow up in seoul but in the countryside, so seeing my chickens and sheep being… a meal kinda gave me the ick.” you continued casually.

“ah,” sunghoon nodded slowly, watching the way your lips curved between words, the faint gleam of moisture on your lower lip after you took another sip. “that makes sense.” 

you laughed softly, tucking a strand of hair. “yeah, i mean… i used to name them, so it felt wrong when they ended up on the table the next day.”

he smiled faintly, wrong when they ended up on the table. 

you went on, oblivious to the way his gaze lingered. your attention was on your dinner, anyway. “so i just stopped eating meat. it’s easier and better that way. people claim they love animals, but how could they—” you paused, twirling a few noodles around your chopsticks. 

“—love something and still hurt it?”

you looked down, shrugging, expression softening. “i don’t know. maybe i’m too sentimental.”

sunghoon’s gaze sharpened on you. he had long paused from eating. one hand flexed and twitched against his knee, jaw tightened. the words distorted and sweetened in his head. how could they not? he thought. how could love exist without wanting to consume and make it a part of you?

if you really love someone, don’t you want to be with them all the time?

he watched as you lifted the mushroom to your lips, eyes half–lidded as you chewed, and something inside him twisted into something more than hunger. 

you didn’t get it. you could never understand the depth of what he felt for you—love, to you was soft, gentle, harmless—all sunshine and rainbows and everything good in life. but to sunghoon, it was the bite and the swallow.

the meal dwindled to silence and you dabbed at your lips with a tissue, sunghoon watched as you set it aside. when you stood to put your cups in his sink as he insisted, sunghoon slid the crumpled tissue into his pocket. 

the boy thanked you for the dinner, sent you back next door, and wished you goodnight. 

when the latch clicked shut behind him, sunghoon looked down at the tissues folded neatly in his palm—his little souvenirs from the evening. 

——

slowly, the friendship between the two of you began to bloom—almost without you noticing. it wasn’t sudden, just small things that fit together like puzzle pieces.

sunghoon was attentive. not in the loud, overbearing way most boys tried to be, but he was gentle, calm. he remembered tiny passing details you thought no one really heard, or cared. in fact, he knew things you were pretty sure you never told anyone.

and he listened. really listened. when you spoke, sunghoon’s gaze stayed fixed on you, his replies thoughtful and quiet, almost like he was careful with what he was saying which was something you appreciated. 

sometimes, when you caught him staring, you’d laugh and ask what he was thinking about—but he’d just smile, shake his head, and say, “nothing.” 

it felt easy with him, somehow. like right now.

“you’re spacing out again.”

sunghoon blinked, his pupils refocusing as your voice broke through his daze. he shook his head slightly, caught off guard by the teasing in your tone. 

“sorry—” he murmured, a small sheepish smile tugging at his lips. his voice was soft. “just… thinking.”

you tilted your head, a playful glint in your eyes. “about what?”

his fingers tapped lightly against the table, as if buying time. you, he thought. always you. only you. but instead he just chuckled under his breath. “how you just have a basket of fruits, but never offered me some.”

your eyes widened a fraction, before a grin etched across your face. “really—?” you chuckled, brows knitting in slight confusion. “i didn’t know you wanted some. you should’ve said so.”

sunghoon shrugged, lips quirking. “didn’t want to impose.”

you smiled, shaking your head as you got up towards the kitchen. picking up a peach, you placed it on the cutting board. “please, you’re practically a regular guest at this point.” the knife scraped softly against the board as you sliced.

sunghoon watched as the blade was just a fraction away from the tips of your fingers—close enough to nick the skin. he wished bones were that easy to slice through. wished he could part the metacarpals with the same clean whisper the knife made through peach flesh. 

“see?” you broke his train of thought, holding up a neat smile. “there’s no need to shy about it.”

but then—slip. 

the blade caught the pad of your finger, a quick sting blooming before the bead of red followed. “ah—” you gasped and hissed quietly, instinctively pulling your hand back.

sunghoon got up from the carpet, his expression shifting in an instant. “you’re bleeding,” he said. you just awkwardly chucked it off, bringing your finger to your lips. “yeah, it’s fine. just a little cut.”

your lips closed around the cut, tongue curling to lap the blood in one slow swipe. sunghoon’s pulse stuttered. the wet shine of your mouth, the faint smear of red left behind, the soft suction as you drew the taste of yourself in. 

mine, he absentmindedly thought, raw and sudden. i could take that finger, keep it warm between my teeth until the marrow cooled.

“ugh,” you mumbled, pulling it free with a soft pop. a final crimson bead welled up. you turned to the sink, cold water hissing over the wound. sunghoon just stayed by you, sighing. “that won’t do,” he stepped closer, “where do you keep your band aid?”

you pointed at a drawer. sunghoon reached for the small box, fumbling a strip free. “let me…” he trailed, gently taking your hand in his, turning it palm–up so the cut faced the light. the blood had slowed to a lazy seep, a single drop sliding down the curve of your finger.

sunghoon pressed the pad to the wound, smoothing the edges with his thumb. the gauze drank the red instantly. “there,” he said, voice low. “better?” he didn’t let go.

you shyly nodded, not bothered pulling it away. 

“mmhm,” you looked up to him from underneath your lashes. “better.”

with sunghoon, the world felt like it was moving slower and quieter. when he laughed, he did it with his whole body—leaning forward slightly, covering the bottom half of his pretty face with the back of his hand, eyes crinkling faintly. 

and in the best way possible—maybe because of the calmness he carried, it made you sleepy. not one that came out of exhaustion, but safely. 

like right now.

your eyes fluttered shut, still sitting on the floor with your back against the couch, the hum of his voice and the tv slowly fading. sunghoon glanced at you, a small, almost disbelieving smile tugging at his lips. 

you looked peaceful, head tilted slightly, hair brushing against your cheek. carefully, sunghoon crawled towards you and crouched, slipping one arm beneath your knees and the other behind your back.

your body fits nicely in his hold. would you melt if he hugged you?

you stirred a little when he lifted you, murmuring something incoherent that sunghoon hushed you under his breath. he carried you to the bed with slow steps as he didn’t want to wake you up if he wasn’t gentle enough.

“...there,” he muttered softly, laying you down and tucking the blanket up to your shoulders. sunghoon stood there for a moment, watching the rise and fall of your chest. the faint scent of your shampoo clung to his sleeve. 

then, quietly, his gaze drifted to your hand—the one with the cut from earlier. reaching for it, his fingers ghosted over yours, before peeling the edge loose.

the band aid came off easily, leaving your skin bare. he folded the used sticker, blood–side in, and slipped it into his pocket. 

you looked so peaceful amidst the chaos in sunghoon’s mind. if only you knew a fragment about what he was thinking about you, you would be horrified to death. you would hate him. loathe him.

without realising, sunghoon leaned over you, getting a closer look at your features and your tiny details. your lashes cast shadows, your lips slightly parted, breathing. he hovered, breath ghosting the corner of your lips.

one kiss. just one, you’ll never know. 

his hand found your jaw, thumb setting in the hollow beneath your ear. 

the kiss was barely contact, lips to lips, yes, but a little dry and quick. warmth flooded his mouth, letting the lower one graze the same of yours, tasting faintly the peach you had. the kiss was feather–light, but his teeth ached more.

just a nip, it purred. just enough to feel… 

sunghoon traced the shape of your mouth with his own, mapping the bow, the dip, the plush at the center. he pecked, imagining how your lower lip would brush purple before bleeding if he’d bite it down.

the thought alone flooded his mouth with saliva that slipped in yours. 

your breath hitched, and he froze. tongue moved behind your teeth, sunghoon didn’t pull back. instead, he pressed harder, dragging his mouth over yours. his hands slid from your cheeks down to the sides of your neck where he he cradled the fragile columns of muscle and tendon, thumbs settling beneath your jaw. 

sunghoon could feel the flutter of your pulse against his fingertips, like a morse code saying: alive, alive, alive.

lips parted, a soft exhale escaped your lips as he drank it in, the tip of his tongue dragging across your teeth where he felt every ridge, every little mamelon. this is the map, he thought. this is the place i’ll open first. 

when sunghoon finally pulled away, your lips were slightly swollen, glistening with saliva. a single thread of it stretched between you, snapped, and clung to his lower lip. sunghoon licked it clean. 

“hah…” he breathed, your head lolled to the side, exposing the full column of your neck. sunghoon started, thinking of the painting where wolves bit the sheep as the little white animal had its eyes closed peacefully. 

you were the little white.

sunghoon leaned in, pressed his open mouth to that spot—no teeth, just heat from his breath—and felt the thrum of your life against his lips.

then he let go. 

when he finally turned to leave, sunghoon fiddled with the band aid in his pocket, thumb brushing over the faint trace of your skin into the adhesive. later that night, sitting on the edge of his bed in the dim light of his room—

sunghoon sucked the band aid into his mouth, tongue tracing the taste of your sweet, metallic blood on the dressing—his eyes fluttered shut and rolled behind the thin skin, savouring it like a secret snack.

——

“so… you and sunghoon?” 

you blinked, looking up from the laptop screen. “what?” you raised an eyebrow, darting your eyes back to the screen. “what about us…?”

sunoo raised his brows, a teasing lilt in his tone. “you guys go home together and come together and eat together and have inside jokes together and—”

you let out a soft, awkward chuckle, waving your hand dismissively. “oh, that’s just because we live in the same building. it’s… convenient.” 

“convenient,” he repeated, smiling knowingly, pushing his tongue against the inside of his cheek. “riiiight. and the same lunch boxes?”

your mouth fell open slightly. “what—how do you even notice those things?”

your friend shrugged, scoffing playfully. “hah—you should see his face when you talk to other guys too.” you rolled your eyes, trying to hide the warmth creeping up your neck. “he’s just… protective, i guess. he’s nice.”

sunoo leaned back in his chair, smirking. “yeah, he is. but y’know—guys don’t just look at their friend, especially one that’s supposed to be just neighbours like they like them.”

your eyes widened, unsure whether to laugh or deny it. “w—what? no, it’s not like that,” you stammered, the corners of your lips twitching. “we’re just… friends, really.”

sunoo gave a small hum, not quite convinced. “mm. if you say so,” his tone was light, teasing. “just… be sure with what you feel. as both you and sunghoon’s friend, i can tell you—sunghoon’s a lot of things, but he’s not the one to play around.”

“so if you don’t like him, just tell him. he’ll understand. he can be intimidating sometimes, but he’s not cruel.”

you bit the inside of his cheek, gaze falling to your hands. the words stuck somewhere in your throat—because the truth was, you did like sunghoon. probably more than you should. 

“so you think i should just tell him?”

sunoo looked up from his screen, tilting his head. “do you like him?”

you nodded, lips pressing into a thin line. “yeah,” you admitted softly, almost embarrassed by the way your chest fluttered around it. “i do… he’s just so easy to be around. not like i planned it or anything.”

his expression softened, the teasing in his eyes faded into an understanding. “aw, then tell him,” he said simply with a shrug. “it’s probably mutual, anyway. i can feel it.”

you laughed under your breath, tapping your fingertips against your laptop’s palm rest area. “right… i don’t want to keep wondering if he feels the same either,” you sighed, shoulders dropping. “i just don’t wanna make things weird between us if it goes south,” 

“he’s… important to me.”

sunoo leaned back, nodding. “if it’s real, it won’t get weird. and even if it does, sunghoon will make sure it isn’t.”

you didn’t know why—but that gave you the little boost you needed to let sunghoon know how you felt that night.

“—sorry, that was probably so sudden,” you said quickly, words tumbling out before you could stop them, “i just—ugh, this is embarrassing.” you fingers twisted the edge of your sleeve, and you looked everywhere but at him. “you don’t have to say anything. i just didn’t want to keep it in anymore, and i’m sorry if this makes things weird—”

“wait, wait wait wait,” 

sunghoon’s eyes widened in disbelief, his lips parted slightly. “wait,” he said again, letting out a breath of chuckle. “you’re serious?” 

you nodded, cheeks warm. “yeah,” you managed, trying to laugh, though it came out shaky. “i know it’s stupid, i just—”

“it’s not stupid.”

sunghoon leaned closer, the corners of his mouth twitching like he couldn’t decide whether to smile or not. his heart felt like it was beating everywhere—in his throat, his hands, his skull. “yn,” he said, swallowing the hunger in his throat.

“i feel the same way.” 

you blinked, caught off guard by his answer—and the way his voice trembled ever so slightly. “you… what?” you asked, half laughing in disbelief. 

sunghoon’s lips parted, his chest rising. “...yeah,” he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. “for a while now, actually.”

your heart felt like it might burst out of your ribs. “why?” you asked suddenly without thinking, still dazed, a nervous grin tugging at your lips. “why do you like me?”

he huffed a soft laugh, his eyes darting away as if the question embarrassed him. “that’s—you first.”

you groaned. “what? nooo, you can’t just deflect like that.”

sunghoon shrugged, smiling faintly. “i asked second. besides, i probably like you first than you do me.”

“fair,” you rolled your eyes playfully, looking down at your bowl of rice. “honestly… you’re just so easy to be around. i’m comfortable, and you’re—kind… and quiet, in the best way possible…”

his eyes softened as he watched you, propping his chin on the heel of his palm. “that’s all?”

“what do you mean that’s all!” you laughed, throwing him a look.

“i don’t know,” sunghoon said, grinning now, shrugging as he pulled his chair closer. “just thought you’d say something about how good–looking i am too.”

you let out a small snort, resting your cheek on your palm on the table. “fine. you’re handsome too. but that’s just a bonus.”

he laughed, his eyes crinkle like crescent moon. “your turn,” you said, nudging your chin playfully. “why do you like me?”

sunghoon tilted his head, considering. “aside from the obvious—how pretty you are,” he began, voice light but eyes sincere. “i think it’s just who you are. you’re… soft about life, but not weak. you care about the small things, so caring, considerate, lovely,” 

he laughed a little under his breath, tilting his head slightly like he’s in awe. “when i’m with you, it’s… quiet in my head, but i also just can’t stop thinking about you.” 

you blinked at him, caught between smiling and forgetting how to breathe. “that’s…” you trailed off, searching for words. “probably one of the nicest things anyone’s ever said to me.”

sunghoon’s lips curled, shy but sure. “then i’ll keep saying them, if it means you’ll keep looking at me like that,”

“but before i do all that… can i be your boyfriend, yn?”

——

one would think that sunghoon would settle after this—after getting what he’d wanted which was you. after being allowed closer, after becoming yours in a way he used to only fantasise and dream about. 

one would think he’d calm down. be normal. relax now that he didn’t have to secretly snoop into your apartment or eavesdrop to your conversations just to know how your day was going. now, you were the one who told him everything—gave him your spare key, let him borrow your stuff and even let him put his toothbrush in your bathroom just incase. 

but the truth was—dating you only made it worse for him.

because before, he had to imagine which could only go so far.

but now he got to see. 

now you waited for him on your couch in tiny tank tops without overthinking if sunghoon thought you were seducing him, now you tied your hair up in front of him and exposed the slope of your neck without a second thought. now you sit between his legs on the floor while you fold laundry—his jaw clenched because your back, the curve of your spine was all his to view. 

when before you hid your softness around him—now you trusted him with it.

and sunghoon didn’t know how to handle that.

being allowed to love you didn’t soothe the obsession. it only fed it, watered it, growing it into something even bigger, heavier, and hungrier. the closer you got, the more it was clear to him: sunghoon needed you inside him. not in that way—but you needed to be beneath the layers of his skin, threaded through the muscle, fused to the marrow of his bones. 

sunghoon loved you, but not in the gentle way you wanted. 

“o—oh god, hoonie, your mouth,” you gasped, arching your back against his mattress as your grip tightened around his locks. sunghoon’s dick twitched at your moanings, his hand travelled up to cup your soft tits in his large palms, the flesh spilling from between his fingers. 

sunghoon kissed and nibbled the outline of your panties and your inner thighs, his sharp canines tugging at your skin and leaving teeth marks on it. his thumbs grazed and flicked your perky nipples. he’s such a tease—purposely avoiding the wet patch on your panties just centimetres from his lips. 

your pussy twitched and pulsed, and if it wasn’t for sunghoon’s arms pinning your folded thighs down, they would've started trembling from how needy you were getting. “baby please, don’t tease me,” you whined, breath hitching in your lungs.

your boyfriend smirked and nuzzled his face into the warmth of your inner thigh, darting his tongue out to finally give your clothed entrance kitten licks. god, you tasted so sweet, so wet for him, so desperate. 

and just finally, he plated a kiss on your cunt. you whimpered, hips jerking up slightly. sunghoon pinched your nipples like a warning to stay low—your fingers curling around his locks. “calm down, baby, let me enjoy this,” he murmured against your pussy, his warm breath sending shivers down your spine. 

sunghoon gave your kitty a few more kisses before hooking his finger beneath the waistband, sliding it down and bunched loosely beneath your knees, caught around both legs. you shivered at the cold air hitting your slicky cunt, sunghoon’s warm breath against it not helping at all either. 

“whoa,” he took a long, nice inhale of your natural scent, saliva pooling in the back of his throat. fuck—not only did you look good, but you smelt good too. sunghoon wondered how you tasted like—though he’d rather take his time with you, savouring every inch instead of rushing a single bite.

“my honey’s so gorgeous,” his breath was heavy as he licked his lips, salivating with the way your hole twitched, walls clamping around nothing. “all this for me.” 

you squirmed, heat rushing to your cheeks as sunghoon took his time enjoying the view—all self–conscious and horny. your hips trembled as they tried to shut, but sunghoon’s wrist anchored it down as he played with your nipples. “don’t… don’t look at it like that…”

disregarding you, sunghoon leaned and darted his tongue to lick at your needy cunt, all wet and dripping. he licked long strips between the lips before the shorter ones, the tip of his tongue tickling and flicking your little pea of nerves. 

you gasped softly, lips parted, tipping your head back against the mattress. “hngh! sunghoon—!” you squirmed, toes curling in the air as sunghoon began french–kissing your cunt, molding and moving his lips against the labia like it’s your lips. the tip of his nose kept brushing against your sensitive clit. 

shit felt so, so, so good. both for you and for him. sunghoon’s long, skilled tongue and mouth that made out with your cunt, his soft palms that tugged, pinched, and flicked your pretty perky nipples, his occasional soft moans, grunts, groans, and breath hitting your naked pussy.

and of course, for sunghoon—this was heaven. the ravenous kind of paradise. no wonder why adam and eve did what they did to the apple—when something looks that forbidden, that soft, that sweet, that appetising, how could anyone resist sinking their teeth in?

your pussy was so meaty, so fleshy. it felt like eating and biting into a really, really juice steak with juices dripping out. shit, sunghoon could devour this cunt all day and night long. with your sweet, honey dripping moanings and whimperings too. 

nibbling here and there, sunghoon ran his tongue up and down, back and forth, lapping, slurping your folds before attaching himself to your clit where he sucked and tugged it. your moans grew louder, and you could only pray to god that your neighbours were out. 

“oh god, just like that, hoonie, just like that,” you cried out, bucking your hips with your limited movement against sunghoon’s handsome face. he grunted, the vibration from his voice sending shivers through you. “so needy,” he chuckled, plunging his tongue into your throbbing hole, nose pressed against your clit as he practically shoved his face into his meal.

running your hand through his hair, you tangled them again, giving it a tug forward. your boyfriend picked up his pace, thrusting his tongue in and out of you like it’s his cock, curling the muscle to press on that soft, gummy spot in your cunt. 

you tensed up, shivering, legs trembling in the air as your breath hitched. “hngh—! hoonie! there, there, there, oh god, there, baby,” you pleaded, writing beneath his grip on your boobs. his lips never stopped working either—it slurped and sucked your cunt noisily, tongue exploring the domain of your cunt. 

trembling, you began suppressing your moans by biting the back of your hand, tears welling in your eyes as the pressure began to build up—overstimulation washing over you. “uh—fffu, hnghh…” you whimpered, incoherent words spilling from your lips. 

sunghoon didn’t care that he practically couldn’t breathe properly from being suffocated by your sweet pussy—he loved the feeling, more than anything he’s ever felt before. 23 years of being alive, and nothing could ever top this high. 

“fuck, mhh,” he muffled in your cunt, your walls spasming around his tongue. you gyrated against sunghoon’s mouth, rubbing your wet pussy on his face—making a mess. he thrusts and curved his tongue along your walls, dragging the tip of his tongue as his loops made sloppy wet sounds. your walls contracted and pulsated. 

“hoonie—!” you cried out, back arching, legs tensed in the air. you’re so close to cumming it’s crazy—your whole body quivered, tingling, quaking, toes curling, hand tightened around his hair while the other biting down on your skin hard. 

feeling you getting close, sunghoon grazed his teeth on your pussy, making your stomach pulsate at the sensation. your breath stuttered—shallow and uneven and heavy and short—each exhale catching on the rise of the heat building in your belly.

sunghoon slid one hand from your tit down to your abdomen where he pressed his palm flat on the flesh, pressuring into the soft give of your stomach. your stomach fluttered under his palm, a tight, hot pull low in your belly made your breath stumble. everything felt too close, too overstimulating, too much. “n—not there, ‘m gonna cum, hoonie, i’m gonna cum—!” 

throwing your head back, a silent cry left your throat. you clamped down on your bottom lip to keep any noise from leaving your mouth—quickly reminding yourself that you don’t live by yourself. “mhh!” an intense wave rushed through your entire body, arching your back in pleasure—you release both your creamy orgasm and squirt on your boyfriend’s face. 

your thighs trembled as sunghoon pressed your abdomen harder, forcing all liquids to come out of your body. sunghoon continued fucking your cunt with his tongue, slurping, sucking, gulping down straight down his throat. 

his adam’s apple bobbed as he gulped down. 

“hnghh, mhh—! sunghoon!” you whimpered, crying out. your legs threatened to squeeze around his head, hips bucking against his face as you chased your high. his nose brushed between your folds.

everything dripped down his face to his chin, sunghoon pinched the fat on your stomach to ground himself as he lapped his tongue flat on your pussy. you tasted so, so, so fucking good—sweeter than any fruit he’d ever bitten into, sweeter than any dessert he’d tasted. your liquid kept sliding down his throat like it never ended as he drank it all—he swore his eyes went crossed. 

like a starving animal getting a mouthful yet still not satisfied, sunghoon did something no creature of instinct ever could—he hungered past your body, craving the soul beneath the skin. 

sunghoon bit down—clamping his canines and row of perfect teeth into the meaty flesh of your cunt. it bit down sharply, the way one would bite down their steak, hard enough for the skin to split with a wet squelching noise. he held the bite, jaw locked, feeling the pulse beneath the meat throb against his tongue.

alive, alive, alive.

sunghoon pulled back an inch where the wound yawned open before him—the muscle dark and wet, a ribbon of blood spilled free, thick and crimson metallic, tracing the curve of his lower loop before dripping in a slow, deliberate line down his chin. your blood clung to the sharp line of his jaw, then fell in a perfect scarlet bead onto the sheet between your thighs.

oh this was it—sunghoon savoured it, tilting his head up so the blood would slide along the hollow of his throat, pooling at the notch of his collarbone. the taste coated his tongue: iron and salt and sweetness, with your chunk of flesh in his mouth, where he bit, chewed, grinded it against his molars like a really, really chewy meat. 

the first mouthful was revelation: warm, velvet muscle parting under his teeth. sunghoon leaned to drag his tongue over the open wound, slower time time, savouring the layers of your flesh beneath your skin. 

sunghoon pressed his face into the wound, nose buried in the open wound, and inhaled. this scent—sex, blood, and you—he wanted to bathe in if it was possible. sunghoon wanted to open you up, crawl inside like a reversed baby coming out of their mother’s womb—he wanted to live there and live under your skin. 

another lick, a gush of blood escaped and spread on his tongue, clinging to his teeth like syrup. sunghoon sucked gently while he munched down on your flesh, breaking nerves and venules apart with a grind of molars. your muscle fibre tore like silk. 

ah, so this is what you taste like.

he bit again, teeth scraping your skin where your inner thigh met. the skin here was thinner; it parted like how you would tear a paper—a new river of blood spilled free, tracing the corners of his mouth, hollowing his collarbone. 

he didn’t immediately swallow, letting the flesh sit on his tongue warmly. 

he would never be hungry again, he would never be empt—

“sunghoon—?” 

you panted, your eyes glistening with tears, wide and glassy, pupils blown from the aftershock of your climax. your thighs trembled, the sheets beneath you were soaked—not with blood, but with the slick of your release. 

your fingers were still clawed at his hair, trying to pull him up, but he stayed buried between your legs, mouth still latched to the soft inner fold of your thighs where the skin was flushed crimson.

not from the bite marks where he’d bitten, but from the bruising suction of his lips, the scrape of his teeth, and the relentless drag of his tongue.

the fantasy had bled so deep into reality that when sunghoon finally lifted his head, his lips were swollen and wet, shining with your juices, his saliva. a thin string of saliva and arousal stretched from his mouth to the tender spot he’d been devouring, snapping only when he blinked, like waking from a fever dream. 

“it… it hurts,” you whispered, voice cracked and trembling. “can you… come here… please?”

sunghoon’s breath hitched and he couldn’t even mutter an apology as much as he wanted to. he crawled up your body on shaky arms, and when he hovered over your face, you saw it—that feral glint flickering in his eyes, the way his tongue kept darting out, licking his lips.

you cupped his jaw with trembling fingers. a tear slipped down your cheek. this was the first time he looked like someone else. “you okay?” you breathed.

your boyfriend leaned in, pressed his forehead to yours, and said the truth with the softest smile.

“never better.”

——

you can be on a diet for only so long before you get really, really hungry again.

if you never confessed to sunghoon (months ago), you’d never know that he was so… clingy. he got that cute, shy–boyish way about him, sure—but he also couldn't just stop touching you. always tugging you closer by the hem of your shirt, always slipping his fingers between yours even when you were just walking to take the trash out, always resting his chin on your shoulder.

sunghoon’s favourite thing to do was pressing his fingers against your pulse. 

sometimes on your wrist to check if you were real and alive. sometimes under your jaw where the sudden movement made your breath catch. sometimes against the inside of your thigh when he thought you wouldn’t notice, waiting for that jump under his fingertips.

sunghoon swore your pulse gave him morse code that told him you’re—alive, alive, alive.

he liked knowing you were alive under his hands.

he liked knowing you were still alive because of him.

sometimes it creeped you out, but lately…. it’s been a lot.

you can hold your breath for a while, but eventually your lungs will start begging for air.

“sunghoon,” you said, mumbling against his bare chest as he held you in his arms. your boyfriend replied with a soft hum, fingers playing with the lock of your hair. “...i think we need a break,” you said—quiet, careful, distracted. 

sunghoon blinked. a little crease forming between his brows. he pulled back, immediately propping himself up on his elbow so he could see your face better.

“what… break?” he asked, voice barely above a whisper like he was afraid he’d misheard you. 

you swallowed, looking away. “just some space… just—just a little. we’re not breaking up, i just need some—”

“space? from me?” he even points to himself. wishing there was someone else you’re talking about. “but… why? did i do something?” 

you opened your mouth, but the words tangled on your tongue. you could feel his eyes on you—almost frantic. you didn’t want to tell sunghoon he’d been clingy, too much. you didn’t want your boyfriend to change himself… but then again, you didn’t feel good about lying.

“i just…” you tried again, an uneasy gut forming in your stomach. “hoonie, you’ve just been all over me lately. i just need to breathe a little.”

sunghoon’s shoulder stiffened. his fingers, which had been resting lightly on your waist, curled in resistance from grabbing you and holding you in place. “all over you?” he echoed, disbelief laced in his tone. “i am all over you. i love you, isn’t that what i’m supposed to do?”

his eyes searched your face like he was trying to find the part where you were joking. space shouldn’t be a word that applies to him. when you didn’t respond, sunghoon let out a weak laugh. “baby, i don’t… understand,” he admitted, voice softening. 

“how can you need space from me? we’re finally together, we finally get each other.” sunghoon sat up straighter, leaning against the frame. “i’ve waited for us for so long. why would you want distance now? what do you mean i’m all over you?”

“if i’m being too much, you can just… tell me. i’ll fix it. i’ll be better. i’ll do anything. just don’t—” his voice caught, barely. “don’t pull away.”

you felt the weight of his desperation settle thickly. his need wasn’t loud or violent; it was quiet, pleading, woven into every tiny movement he made. his thumb brushed over your shoulder like he was trying to reassure himself you were still there.

he didn’t need to fix himself. he didn’t need to apologise or shrink or adjust anything just to accommodate you. you weren’t asking him to be smaller or softer or different. but god, the way he looked at you made the guilt bloom sharp and sour in your throat. 

“hoonie…” you murmured, sitting upright. “you don’t get it…” you tug on your bottom lip, finding the right words to tell him. “i need time to get my head straight. i don’t want these thoughts—that you’re being too much to take a toll on me.”

his expression twitched, not with anger, but confusion. “then i just stop being too much, then.” he shrugged like it was that simple. was as easy as flipping a switch. you frowned, feeling almost disrespected. “sunghoon,” you murmured—but he leaned forward.

“i can tone it down,” he insisted. “i won’t hold you as much, won’t cling, won’t—” his voice cracked for just a fraction. “won’t touch you, if that freaks you out.”

“no,” you exhaled, heat rising in your chest. “you’re hearing what you want to fix. not what i’m saying.”

“how is that wrong? i’m trying. what am i supposed to do?”

just like that—? “you’re ignoring how i feel,” you shot back, fingers curling the blanket. “i’m telling you i need space, and the first thing you say is that you’ll change for me. i’m not trying to ask you to be a different person.”

his jaw tensed, frowning deeper. ”well—what am i supposed to say? okay, go ahead, leave me alone? that’s insane.”

you blinked, stunned. “so my feelings are insane now?”

“that’s not what i said.”

“but that’s how it sounds.” you countered, heart pounding against your chest. “you make it feel like what i need doesn’t matter unless it lines up with what you want.”

sunghoon’s eyes widened. “that’s not fair. i always think about you.”

“exactly!” you said, voice cracking. “you think about me so much you don’t leave any space for me to think about myself.” 

his lips parted, breath catcing—because he hadn’t expected that from you. he didn’t expect you to raise your voice, or be so angry about what he think he did right. 

you dragged a hand through your hair, visibly frustrated. “it makes me feel disrespected when you say things like that. like my boundaries don’t matter.”

sunghoon shook his head quickly. “what—? no, that’s not tru—”

“then listen,” you said firmly, removing the covers off your body. “i’m asking for a break. not a breakup. i need it, and you need to respect that.” getting off his bed, you take your items—phone, bracelets, and glasses—from his bedside table. 

your boyfriend swallowed hard, throat bobbing. “i don’t know how to do this,” he murmured, voice breaking. “i don’t know how to be away from you.”

the front door slammed shut, the sound ricocheting through the apartment. 

you had actually walked away from him.

——

“you did what you gotta do,” wonyoung said, tossing you a towel as she settled beside you on the couch. her apartment was the embodiment of her, all soft and warm. 

you sighed, groaning as you stretched your limbs above your head. “i know, i know… i just—”

the guilt swelled up in your chest, thick and heavy. “i feel awful, wony. he looked so… wrecked. it felt like i kicked a puppy.”

she chuckled softly, shaking her head. “yeah, a very clingy, tall, big puppy who doesn’t understand boundaries.” she leaned her head back, eyes narrowing slightly. “it’s been weeks, he’ll come around.”

you frowned, leaning your head back as well on the backrest. “he didn’t take it well,” you murmured, staring at the ceiling. “i’ve never seen him look like that. wonder what he feels now…”

your friend let out a slow exhale. “yeah, but you needed the break. i mean… you know i’m not his biggest fan.”

you hugged the towel around your shoulders. “i know that. he’s not bad—”

“i didn’t say he’s bad,” she cut in gently. “i’m just glad you decided to draw some line. he’s so intense and possessive sometimes. you’ve been stressed for weeks before this. that’s not normal.”

you sunk deeper into the couch. yeah—it wasn’t just you who noticed how sunghoon changed after getting together with you. wonyoung, sunoo—his friends did too. 

wonyoung noticed it first. she’d give you little looks when she saw the marks on your skin that you failed to cover up. not hickeys—those are still considerably normal. bite marks. actual teeth marks. sunoo’s brows knitted so tightly you thought they’d fuse together when sunghoon had gotten up to follow you to the bathroom. even heeseung—who you would assume wouldn’t care so much once said with an awkward laugh, “he’s… really into you, huh?”

you had brushed every comment away then. it was just young, new, eager, overwhelming love. but now, sitting on wonyoung’s couch with guilt sitting like a stone in your chest, you wonder why you didn’t acknowledge it sooner. 

he wasn’t just clingy.

he was spiraling, and you’d gotten caught in the center of it. 

——

have you ever had something so good you couldn’t stop thinking about it after?

you were like one of those rare delicacies one would stumble upon once in their life, the kind that ruins everything else—because after having it once, nothing else compares. nothing else satisfies. 

sunghoon stuffed himself full with all kinds of sweets, spice to numb his tongue, salt that gave him migraines—jerk himself off that he swore he’d nothing left inside, grind against his bolster, fucked his fist, folded his pillow into two and fucked the hole it made—to your voice, your clips, your face, your stuff that he stole—cum on your shoe outside your door, on the cookie you baked that’s been in his fridge longer than it should. 

he’s still hungry. 

the more distance you put between you and him, the more violently he remembered. like hunger after a long journey, teeth aching for something familiar again. you weren’t just someone he loved, you were the first thing that made him understand obsession. 

you were the person who made sunghoon the way he was. you were the person who made sunghoon realised he might be a—

cannibal. 

it speaks to the carnal human desire to be touched and remain impossibly close to another person.

“hoonie?” 

sunghoon shuddered at your soft voice. you’re still alive—his lips trembled as tears welled in his eyes. “yn,” he swallowed. “i—i missed you,” he choked, fingers curling around the hem of his shirt. “i really can’t… i really, really, can’t do this anymore.” 

“i feel so sick without you. i can’t eat, i can’t do sleep, i can’t do anyt—”

his voice dissolved into a harsh exhale, his chest rising and falling with the frantic rhythm of someone who’s trying not to break down. 

something about him made you open the door wider, taking his hand in yours. “hoonie…” your other hand rose to cup his cheek, always so gentle. you knew it must’ve hurt him, but you didn’t know it was to this extent—he looked so… devastated. 

sunghoon looked like his world crumbled apart. 

“come inside.” you murmured, gently tugging him in. your boyfriend stumbled inside, eyes glassy and wild. as the door clicked shut behind him, he felt it settle into his bones—he would never be able to let you go.

you should never feed the hunger that was supposed to just starve and rot.

“‘missed you so much,” 

“i missed you so fucking much,” sunghoon nipped the shell of your ear, lifting your hips up to tug you closer, drawing your bodies together. you let out a soft yelp, wrapping your arms around his heck. “mh—!”

your boyfriend darted his tongue out to lick the curve of your ear, tracing the delicate shell—the triangular fossa, down to your concha and just flicking the inside—you squirmed, tilting your head away but sunghoon caught it, squishing your cheeks to keep your head still. 

“it tickles—!” you gasped, the laugh breaking into a breathy moan as his sharp teeth grazed the love, not biting, just holding. his tongue followed the path again, wetter and slower this time, mapping the ridge and hollow. 

this cartilage, this pulse—mine to keep. 

sunghoon’s warm breath entered your ear as he kept grinding his cock between your clothed pussy lips. the two of you were so dying to fuck—but sunghoon wanted to foreplay first. “stay still baby,” he rasped, sucking the antitragus—the pointed cartilage bump on your outer ear. 

his mouth travelled down to nip at the soft hollow just beneath your ear, that fragile cradle where your pulse beat visibly if sunghoon squinted his eyes. his teeth closed gently, the skin dimpled, then released with a soft, wet pop; he chased the spot with his tongue, flicking the tip around it, lapping at the warmth as he darkened the mark.

yeah—this too, his pulse.

sunghoon nudged your panties aside with the head of his cock, rubbing the mushroom head between your labia, rubbing it up and down your pussy lips. he dipped his head just enough to stretch your cunt before pulling it out, smearing your juices all over your cunt.

you whimpered in frustration as your breath hitched, “hoonie, please—please fuck me right now baby,” your back arched in desperation—needy for his cock that you’ve longed for for weeks. “need your cock inside me, please,” you pleaded desperately.

not sure if it was your fervent begging, or sunghoon’s meal time that grumbled, but he obliged. sunghoon slid his cock inside, stretching your pussy with the best kind of burn sensation. he buried his face into the crook of your neck as he groaned, the warmth of your cunt engulfed his throbbing cock. 

“fuck, you’re s’tight,” he murmured, tugging on your skin with his canine. you moaned out, tightening your grip around his neck as the discomfort emerged. “h—hngh! wait, wait,” you gasped, mind fumbling to focus on his cock or his lips. “you’re so big, fuck,”

slowly, sunghoon began to pull his hips back, then thrusted forward as gentle as he could. the pain subsided as he continued to move, and it started to feel good—like how it’d been feeling at this while. 

you missed your boyfriend so much. 

sunghoon raised his head from your neck, the other hand that’s not propping himself beside your head played with your tender tit, fondling, squeezing, squishing the flesh. “you feel so amazing.” he murmured, leaning to kiss you again. kissing might be his favourite thing to do, afterall—

a kiss is the beginning of consumption.

sunghoon moved at a pace where it’s pleasurable for the two of you, his hips pressed to your pelvis. he’s breathing deep, hurried breaths, sweat began forming at his temple. “s’deep hoonie, hngh,” you grasped his shoulders, clawing your nails into him. 

“yeah?” a guttural moan escaped him, head thrown back in a second as he picked up his pace, intensifying his rhythm. “i’m about to give you more pretty girl,” the corner of his lips twitched into a smirk, leaning to feast on your neck once again. 

his favourite altar. sunghoon imagined the give of it—how the thin layer would split like wet parchment, how the blood would flood his tongue, how the flavour would be richer than anywhere else—he kissed harder at the thought.

and so did his cock. the head slammed and knocked against your cervix, quicker and more insistent—the bed beneath shook under the combined weight. “hngh, fuck, yn, i—” he winched at how tight your pussy clamped him down. 

your muscles clenched and released, the remnant of his cock shoved inside, balls deep and slapping against the curve of your ass. “hoonie, hoonie, t’deep, too deep—” you arched your back, turning your head to nibble your bedsheet beneath. 

sunghoon dismissed your pleadings, dragging his teeth along the tendon again, counting heartbeads like rosary beads with the tip of his tongue. every throb of his cock: your vein, this life. his hips stuttered as he buried his cock deeper. 

do it, the hunger hissed. do it now. 

do it sunghoon. do it do it do it do it do it do it do it do it do it do it do it do it do it do it do it do it 

do it do it do it do it do it do it do it do it do it do it do it do it do it do it do it do it do it do it do it do it do it 

he did it.

sunghoon’s jaw snapped shut like a trap.

his sharp teeth and canines punched through your skin with a crack, the carotid parted under his canines like an overripe peach, a soft hiss of surrender broke apart as the artery split and the blood surged and squired all over.

the copper iron taste hit his tongue in a scalding flood, sweeter and alive, and real with the frantic drum of your pulse—before your screams did. 

“ahh—!” your body jerked beneath him in a single, shocked spasm, and the motion only drove his teeth deeper until his upper molars kissed the bottom ones. a sudden, scalding gush flooding the hollow of your neck, spilling down your collarbone in thick waves. you felt it leaving you and straight being sucked into his mouth into greedy, rhythmic pulls—

much like the rhythm of his hips rocking against yours.

your vision tunneled, the ceiling blurred. “sunghoon! sunghoon—!” you cried out, body thrashing, fingers clawing at his shoulders, nails dragging his skin red and drawing blood, but your limbs were already going heavy, agonisingly slow.

this isn’t real, your mind screamed. 

“fuck, mmh, fuck,” sunghoon moaned as he lapped his tongue over the open wound, sticking the muscle inside where it wriggled around your flesh. he collected drops of your blood like communion.

his cock grew at the taste—he couldn’t even move anymore, just kept it buried warm and comfy around your warmth, throbbing and pulsing each time a gush of your blood entered his stomach.

your boyfriend pulled back slowly, like a man surfacing from deep water. 

his face was ruined. horrific. 

blood coated in his mouth in a glossy, obscene mask—dripping from his chin in slow ropes that splattered onto your chest, trailing down the side of your tits and landed on your collarbone. it streaked his cheeks in wild, smeared acts, clung to his lashes in clumps, painted his sharp jaw in dripping crimson. 

“yn…” his lips were swollen, split at the corner from the force of the bite. when he smiled, his teeth gleamed red. “you taste fucking amazing.”

his eyes were blown wide, pupils swallowing the brown, reflecting the lamplight like a… like a madman. a low, guttural laugh rumbled in his chest as he dragged his tongue through the blood. 

you were raggedly, shallowy breathing—still alive. 

your hand fluttered weakly to your neck where your fingers brushed the wet, pulsing ruin that left a hole of the bite. white–hot pain exploded behind your eyes. “sunghoon—” your voice cracked, barely a whisper. “what… why did you—”

your pussy twitched, unintentionally clamped around him. sunghoon winched, tilting his head before leaning in. his forehead pressed to yours as he brought his hand to squish your cheeks, smearing crimson across your skin like paint. 

“shhh,” he murmured, “you’re okay.” 

sunghoon kissed you, his balls smacked against the curve of your ass with powerful thrusts, the tip of his cock delved so deep you swore it went past your womb. “hngh—!” you whimpered, his mouth crashed over yours. the taste exploded across your tongue and went straight to your brain.

so dizzying you felt the room spinning. all of it you, all of it his. his lips were swollen, warm, sticky, thick from the mess of your neck, and when he pressed harder, slipping his tongue inside—the wound on your throat throbbed in pain.

your hands weakly tried to push him off—digging your nails into his flesh, but it was nothing compared to the impact he had on you. it’s so painful, it’s crazy—

sunghoon’s teeth caught the corner of your mouth where he bit down again, sharp and sudden, the soft flesh of your lower lip splitting under the pressure. your eyes widened in horror as fresh bead of blood welled up down your chin.

“this is it,” he moaned, rasping as he sucked it cleaned, tongue curling around the flappy skin where he tore a piece off, munching on it. so… chewy, so porky… “‘this is t’taste,” his tongue traced the path of the tear he’d shed. 

even whimpering felt weird—your mouth opened a little wider at every attempt that you realised shutting up might just be better. tears escaped your eyes, mixed with the blood smeared on your face. salty and irony, salty and irony—it’s painful.

everything’s painful. your neck’s throbbing and hissing, your mouth felt weird and swollen, the corner of your lip stinging where his teeth had split it open, you’re so horrified and aghast your pussy squeezed his growing cock. 

a broken sob tore from your chest. tears spilled hot and fast, cutting clean tracks. your hands shook as they flew to your neck, putting pressure on the wound where you tried to stop the bleeding and the pain surging. 

“it hurts—” you choked, body heaving and jerking and shivering. “it hurts s’much,” another sob, louder, wetter—you hoped the neighbours were here this time, shoving and forcing themselves inside your apartment and save you. your body curled in on itself, shoulders shaking, painful breath hitching in sharp, panicked gasps. 

sunghoon’s eyes twitched, his spine straightened, looking down on you wrecked. split mouth, blood–slick chin. your sobs grew louder as your chest heaved in pain, exhaustion dragging you under. your fingers even inserted themselves into the wound because blood just won’t stop spilling.

“just a little,” your boyfriend dug his nails into the soft part between your ribs, burying his nails until the skin split with a wet ripping sound. “it won’t hurt,” the flesh parted like warm butter, a line of blood welling up. he pressed deeper, the heat of peritoneal cavity just beneath,

his fingers curled, hooked, and pulled.

your skin tore like a peeling fruit. warm viscera spilled into his palm. the small intestine glistened, pearlescent and alive and warm, steaming. sunghoon’s salvating—he swallowed the lump in his throat as he lifted it to his mouth like a newborn. 

sinking his teeth into the delicate wall of your intestine, the taste was obscene—the faint sweetness of bile, the tang of blood, the earthy warmth of your core that had never seen light. that part that held your breath, food, and life. 

sunghoon chewed slowly, reverently, blood dripping along his chest and stomach and abs and abdomen, down to your cunt—where his dick disappeared inside your tight hole. the tissue burst between his molars, the fluid flooding his tongue in sweet rush.

he bit it like steak pieces, swallowing. 

cannibalism is the most stomach-churning version of possession.

“won’t hurt you,” your boyfriend murmured, pupils blown wide. he leaned to press his blood slick mouth, giving your wound open kisses. his tongue delved into the wound of your stomach, lapping at the slick walls, the coiled organs,

everything that had once been you—

“inside me now,” he whispered, burying his face between your torn ribs. “forever.”

the hunger had been appeased.

there was no desperation claiming at his ribcage now. no frantic ache in his chest. no restless, twitching need to hold you closer until he couldn’t breathe. consuming you—talking all of you into him—he had become calm. 

anchored.

peaceful, even. 

your body laid open beneath him like a split, overripe, ruined peach. 

your eyes were wide and lifeless, soulless as death claimed you—matte pupils fixed on the ceiling. the wound in your abdomen yawned wide, intestines spilled out like how a cotton would when the plushie is torn, pooling across your tummy and bedsheet. 

sunghoon pressed a trembling hand to his chest, right over the heart.

beat–beat.

beat–beat.

that rhythm—your rhythm, now his as well. 

that long, dragging craving that had haunted him worse than devils and ghouls, the rabid need that made him shake—all of it had dissolved into this fullness. that blissful numbness. 

if hunger was a torment, then this was salvation.

he had eaten you whole.

in his imagination.

“hoonie…?” you whimpered softly, squirming beneath him as you put your hands on his chest to create some distance. sunghoon blinked himself to reality—pupils going back to normal size, lips parting open with saliva pooling at the back of his throat.

he looked down on you, your eyes glassy, cheeks puffed and flushed, eyelashes wet with tears clumps—he’d long cum inside of you, cock still buried like he wasn’t letting any of his lovemilk oozing out. 

you came as well—orgasm drowned and rushed you like a waterfall, squirting and wetting your mattress. your chest heaved for air, panting, chest rising 

sunghoon’s eyes darted towards your neck—the skin flushed rose, full of his lovebites and marks but nothing wounded. no blood, no bite… he swallowed hard, throat clicking. then his eyes darted towards your lips, no tear, no split. just your perfect, lovely lips—glistening with shared saliva from kissing.

then under your chest. still intact, still sewn together, rising and falling in soft, exhausted waves.

he exhaled slowly—the sound trembling in the quiet.

you were still alive. you were untouched in all the ways his mind had ravaged you just moments before. “hah—” he chuckled dryly, running his clean hand through his face where wiped down his sweats. 

in the back of his throat, he could still taste your flesh between his teeth.

you reached out to brush his strands sticking onto his skin. how lonely your boyfriend must’ve felt throughout the break period—how could you ever do that to him?

swallowing the guilt in your throat, you sucked the inside of your cheek, thumb caressing the apple of sunghoon’s flushed cheek. a low, rumbling sound vibrated in your tummy.

“i’m hungry…”