Jake noticed it, too. In fact, he noticed it almost often enough that he felt the need to tease you about it every time you sat down next to him for Mr Accetta's physics class on Thursday morning, his shoulder brushing yours as he grinned mischievously, eyes twinkling with mirth and great amusement behind the lenses of his glasses.

“You know,” he hums, doodling stars and what you assume to be a mangled “artistic” sketch of Layla, his dog, in the corners of his notebook with a very pink, glittering ink pen. “I kept count again, and I am pleased to inform you that I have got updated stats for the week.”

“Jake, don't start,” you groan, keeping your voice hushed so that old Mr Accetta doesn't catch the two of you talking in his class. The old Italian man was a great teacher and a bit of a gentle giant, but had little to no tolerance for whispered conversations during his lectures, a lesson you'd learnt the hard way during the first month of the freshman year of high school. “If Mr Accetta catches us, we're both going to be salami.”

“As if he'd say anything to me,” Jake rolls his eyes, pushing his glasses higher back up his nose. “I'm his favourite student. He'll automatically give you an excuse because it's me.”

“Narcissistic prick.” You kick his leg underneath the table, and he winces in pain. Shooting you a quick look of offense, he kicks your calf with the heel of his shoe in retaliation. “It's the truth,” he hisses through his teeth, rubbing the sore spot on his leg. “If you want to be spared from his lectures, then get better at physics. At least that way I don't have to tutor you every weekend.”

“I do well enough in physics,” you counter, quieting as Mr Accetta passes by your row. Jake snorts under his breath, tapping his pen against his notes with a look that screams ‘Really? YOU?’ and you barely resist the urge to smack the sophomore. “That's because I tutor you,” he pushes your elbow off the desk, “and you should be grateful I do, because I certainly do not enjoy thirdwheeling you and Sunoo the entire time.”

Your ears burn hot at his words. You promptly ignore them, and level a light glare at Jake. “You don't have to tutor me when he's around, then.” He tuts, shaking his finger. “Where's the fun in that? I'll miss my dose of weekly entertainment watching you squirm under Sunoo's gaze the entire time, then.” He dodges your attempt at whacking his head. “Seriously, you're both so in love, it sickens me. It's like no matter where you go, or how far apart the two of you are, you'll always go back to him.”

“Do you find a particular joy in my suffering, Sim?” You grumble, scribbling in the ‘X’ for your turn in the fifth game of Noughts and Crosses that started fifteen minutes into the class. “You're absolutely correct,” Jake sketches in the ‘O’ for his turn, leaning back in his seat with a pleased hum as he draws a line to win the game, three in a row. “And by the way, you'd actually suffer much less if you took my advice to heart and confessed to him.”

“He doesn't like me that way,” you mutter, cheering softly under your breath as you get your second win with an ‘O’ scribbled into the center of the new grid. Jake looks at you like you're absolutely dumb for saying that out loud, his pen hovering over the paper. “He looks at you like you've descended from heaven very specifically for him. Anytime you're both around in the same room, the first people you look for are each other. Don't give me that bullshit, alright?”

Before you can answer him, Mr Accetta's loud voice booms through the classroom, pointed towards the two of you. “What's the formula to calculate the escape velocity for an object leaving earth, keeping in mind surface gravity?” Thankfully, Jake's mildly ruthless style of tutoring has prepared you for surprise questions, and the formula slips past your lips as quickly as it can. “Square root of 2gr.”

Mr Accetta gives you a pleased nod, questioning Jake next, who answers the question with a calm, casual, and languid ease, the kind that comes when you're extremely sure about what you're doing. It infuriates and amuses you at the same time, because there's something so special about your best friend that is so dearly, incredibly endearing, for a lack of better term.

Jake turns back to you, a smug grin on his face. “Guess you really did listen to my tutoring instead of staring longingly at Sunoo's face the entire time.” You promptly stomp his foot. He jerks his leg high enough to knock his knee into the desk, screaming silently at the pain. The rest of the class turns your way at the sound, but when they don't find anything worth their time and interest, they turn away.

Glaring at you, he wipes the tears forming at the corner of his eyes with one hand, the other still cradling his sore knee. Settling back into his seat, he flips you off, before returning his attention to Mr Accetta once more.

You smile at the sight, turning back to the board. Your notes are a mess, streaks of pink glitter from Jake's pen still dusting the edges of your pages. You'll steal his later, and while he'll complain and whine about it, his hand will still be the one holding the book out for you to take.

The tips of your ears still burn, and your pulse still thrums like the strings and chords of a well-loved guitar under your skin.

Of course, it always started with the small things.

Sunoo is the sun personified, you decide, on a Thursday afternoon.

But it's not just any Thursday afternoon. The sun warms the pavement with gentle rays, and the sky is so blue and the clouds so fluffy and white, you'd think it was a scene pulled from a Ghibli animation. The roar of the sea is quieter at this point of time, but the salty, humid air of a seaside summer still clings to your skin.

There are a few birds chirping, their calls as sweet as the scent of the hibiscus that lingers in the passing wind, joining the gentle sway of the bougainvillea vine that's ever-so-sneakily creeped over the railings of the outdoor balcony, as the humming and chattering in the background quieten to a soft hush.

Everything about this day is perfect.

And really, why wouldn't it be? Because sitting across from you is Kim Sunoo, blond hair shining like strands of gold against the dancing rays of sunlight that filter through tiny gaps in the restaurant's terracotta tiled roof.

He's resting his head on his hand, browsing through the menu. As if feeling the weight of your lingering stare, he raises his head and catches your gaze. The corners of his eyes crinkle, almost disappearing, as his lips curve into the gentlest and softest of smiles. “Am I really that interesting?” He teases, but the hand that was holding the menu earlier is already making its way across the table, before it finds your own. “I doubt anything about me begs this great of a level of detailed attention. Most people aren't this attentive to me.”

His fingers thread with yours. Your pulse nearly stutters to a halt. Your ears burn with heat.

Still, you squeeze his hand.

“You're interesting to me.”

Sunoo blinks at that, as if he hadn't expected the answer. Perhaps he'd expected a joke, a deflection, or maybe even embarrassed avoidance—but not whatever… this was. A confession? An admission? Simply a statement? Or was it a fact? You're not sure what to call it yourself.

But something about your words—quietly spoken into the wind, with no hesitation behind them—must've clicked with him, because his expression softens some more, warmth seeping like dripping honey into the brown of his irises. His thumb rubs circles over the backs of your knuckles, before he lifts your hand to his mouth to press a gentle, reverent kiss against them.

The touch is fleeting—barely lasting a fraction of a second—but the featherlight press of his lips against your skin speaks to you more than a thousand words ever could. His eyes fall shut, even as he turns your hand over to kiss your palm, before finally leaving a last one on the inside of your wrist, this one lingering longer than the other two.

His hand still holds onto yours, the warmth of his body seeping through yours. Your skin still tingles in the places his lips had been to, but the shiver that trails down your spine is a pleasant one. When he opens his eyes once more, Sunoo smiles when he meets your own.

Your pulse quickens again.

But this time, it's because Sunoo's the one holding the guitar of your heart, thrumming the strings along to his whims, as he hums a melody of his own. You follow it without question, heartbeat spiking and dipping with the notes he's set in place for you.

Strangely, you don't mind it. If having him meant that you'd have to place your heart in his hands, you know that you'd do it without hesitation.

The reasoning behind it is simple.

Because this is the same young boy who cried over a fallen flower back when you were anything but tiny little kids all those years ago because he thought the plant would die. Because you know if you handed it to him, he'd cradle it with the greatest of care.

Because it's Sunoo.

And that's enough for you.

The chill of the swimming pool shocks you to your bones.

When you surface back up, clothes and hair clinging tightly to your skin, the perpetrators behind the “crime” of pushing you into the water grin down at you, blocking the sun from you with their shadows.

Jake and Sunoo sport matching, mischievous grins—the kind that tell you that they didn't have an ounce of regret about what they've just done. It's also the kind of grin that just makes you want to get back at them, because the way they look is so endearingly annoying.

Like a pair of cats who got the cream and licked it clean with zero remorse.

The corners of your mouth twitch upward.

Sunoo is the one who spots it first, because of course he's the one who notices everything about you first. Jake sees it a second later, but it's still a second far too late, because you're already leaping over the coping, water dripping onto the concrete as you grab both of them by their ankles and drag them in with a loud splash.

When you surface again, Sunoo and Jake are on either side of you, staring back at you with equal, identical looks of offense, like they couldn't believe what you'd just done. You hold their gazes for a moment longer, wet hair plastered to your forehead, the water rippling gently around the three of you.

Then, Sunoo laughs.

It's not one of those loud, full-bellied laughs, but it is one of those tiny, hushed ones that only come out when the two of you are up at 3 AM, trying not to laugh too hard at the videos you're watching because one of you couldn't fall asleep, the laughter being more snickers than giggles because you don't want to disturb the neighbours.

Jake joins in right after, his shoulders shaking as he giggles, leaning against the pool’s wall for support. Your own chuckles meld into the harmony of theirs, slipping in like a warm blanket on a rainy day.

Sunoo swims over to you, his sleek figure cutting through the water in clean waves, and wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you close to his body. “Had your fun, huh?” He tries his hardest to pretend to be annoyed, even frowning a little, but his eyes—oh, those pretty brown eyes—immediately give him away.

Not because they're crinkling at the corners the way they do when he smiles.

No, it's because of something else entirely.

It's because they look at you with such fondness it hurts.

Like you're the only thing he sees, in between the chaos of the pool party at Jay's. Over Riki's screaming and shrieking, over the sound of Sunghoon and Jay calling for him to be careful, over Heeseung's loud yells of glee as he sprays Jungwon and Riki with a water gun while Jake eggs him on.

He looks at you like you're his past, present, and his future—and he seems so sure of it all, that it leaves you breathless. The world slows down to a stop, the sun aligning just enough to create a little halo behind his head, the blond strands shining so beautifully—and the noise around you quietens to only the sound of your heartbeat thudding loudly in your ears.

“Yeah,” you rasp out, the air in your lungs still having trouble on the way out, smiling at him. “What are you going to do about it, hm?”

He mirrors your expression, his grin slowly widening as he takes you in. “Nothing much,” he hums, a hand coming up from your waist to cup the back of your neck. “Just a little punishment, nothing else.”

“And,” you lick your lips just a little, and his eyes follow the small movement for the slightest of seconds, before they flicker back to yours, “what might this little… punishment be?”

Your eyes never leave his, and neither do his break away from you.

“Just this,” he whispers, pressing his forehead to yours, as both his hands come to cradle your face properly, “and nothing else.”

Then, his lips are on yours, as he pours in everything he feels into the kiss.

His hands are still cold from the pool, but they slowly warm up as the heat from your skin seeps into his own. His thumb rubs circles on the apple of your cheek, while his other one tangles itself into your hair as he deepens the kiss. A sweet, syrupy sort of warmth spreads through your veins, and you welcome it wholeheartedly.

It burns and sizzles through the traces of everything else, until there's nothing else left in this world but the two of you.

At least until Jungwon interrupts.

“Oi, lovebirds!” He giggles, and now having wrestled the water gun away from Heeseung, he turns it on the two of you. “Get a room, or get soaked!”

Sunoo breaks away with a small scream from the coldness of the water, but his arm remains firmly wrapped around your waist, even as he playfully glares at the younger boy. “Oh, Yang Jungwon, you're so dead.”

Jungwon runs around the poolside deck as Sunoo finally lets go of you to chase after him, their feet leaving wet footprints all over the wood. Riki and Sunghoon swoop in to “help,” while Heeseung, Jay, and Jake cheer them on from where they lounge in the sun.

The laugh that bubbles out of you this time is loud and free and everything that you feel, watching all the people you cherish and love be so happy without a care. Sunoo's blond hair whips with the wind as he runs around, and your chest warms at the sight.

Yeah, there's no question about it.

You're absolutely, incorrigibly, undeniably in love with Kim Sunoo.

Jake's fingers are warm, as they brush against your nape.

Sunoo watches from nearby, with his arms crossed over his chest and a little quirk of his lips, as he leans against the old mahogany dresser in your bedroom.

“It looks good,” he finally speaks, strolling over to let his fingers brush against the smooth metal of the pendant resting on your collarbones, just as Jake steps away to sit on your bed instead. “You know my girlfriend so well, Sim.”

“Of course I do,” Jake scoffs, rolling his eyes playfully. “I've known this brat since she was but a snotty-nosed little toddler.”

You cuddle into Sunoo's side, and he presses a quick kiss to your temple, even as you stretch your leg to half-heartedly kick Jake on the shin. “I was not a snotty-nosed toddler. Are you really sure that your memory isn't failing you as we get older?”

“Oh, we're really going there now?” Jake scoffs in playful offense. “You want me to pull out the photographic evidence?” He threatens, hands already reaching for his pocket. “Your baby pictures are enough to prove my claim.”

“Why do you even have my baby pictures, you muppet?” You question, arm resting around Sunoo's waist. “Because your mum sends them to me.” He snorts, unlocking his phone.

“What?” Your offended shriek echoes around the four corners of the room. “Why is my mum sending my baby pictures to you of all people?!”

“Because she loves me,” Jake shrugs like it's only natural fact that your mother absolutely adores him (and it is, really, considering how long your family has known the Sims for), “perhaps even more than you.”

“OI!”

He laughs harder at your expression, clutching his stomach as he doubles over.

“If it helps,” Sunoo quips dryly, brushing a few strands out of your face. “Your mother sends them to me regularly as well.”

“It does not help!” You shriek, betrayed at the thought of your mother sending both your boyfriend and best friend embarrassing childhood pictures of yours.

“Well,” Sunoo shrugs casually, “at least I can say that I tried. Also, you were really cute as a kid.”

“As a kid,” Jake emphasises, pointing a pillow at you, “now she's just an obnoxious gremlin who likes to disturb my peace as soon as she gets a day off from her job.”

Your boyfriend chuckles, raising a brow in jest. “That I can't deny,” he hums, his fingers brushing along your arm. “But I must confess that I greatly enjoy the fact that she always wants to spend time together.”

You roll your eyes, but still kiss his cheek. Jake pretends to gag at the sight, clutching his chest. “Ugh, get a room! Leave! Shoo!”

You throw his empty can of Monster Ultra resting on your vanity at his head.

“You're in my room, you donkey! If anyone should be leaving, it's you!”

“Ugh, she's kicking me out already!” Jake's half-running, half-giggling as he makes his way out of your bedroom, before turning back to face both Sunoo and you in the doorway. “Thanks for keeping her out of my hands, Kim! See you!" he sings out, waving at your boyfriend.

Then he's off, slamming the door shut behind him just as you throw a pillow in his direction.

Sunoo laughs, his other arm wrapping around you as well to trap you in his embrace, his chest warm against your back even through the fabric of your shirt. “Well, he's not wrong. I'm more than happy to keep you to myself.”

Your hands come to rest on top of his, as the two of you sway in your bedroom to an invisible melody. “Good thing I wanna stay with you, then?”

“Yeah,” he whispers, eyes meeting yours in the mirror of your vanity. “Saves me the hassle of convincing you to stay.”

“Lucky you.” Your reflection sports a wide smile, the two little koi fishes (the one you'd taken to nicknaming as Sunoo and Jake in your head) on your pendant glinting in the evening sunrays.

“Mhm,” he hums, kissing your neck affectionately. “Lucky me, indeed.”

Lucky you, indeed. Ordinary days aren't so bad if they're spent with him.

Butterscotch seems to like cuddling Sunoo far more than you these days.

You stare at the cat sitting in your boyfriend's lap, curled up into a mangled little croissant of a ginger cat over his thighs, purring so loud that you can feel it in your bones.

“Butter,” you poke his little whiskered cheek, as Sunoo huffs in amusement at the sight. “You've always been a mama's boy. Why are you sticking to the spare human all of a sudden?”

That draws a snort from Sunoo, his hand reaching out to smooth over the few tufts of unruly fur sticking out from Butterscotch's fluffy coat. “Is that what I'm relegated to now? Not even ‘Dad’ or ‘Papa’?”

You stick your tongue out at him, poking Sunoo's cheek. “Yes, you're the spare human right now, because Butterscotch hasn't cuddled with me for three days straight. He's even begun to sleep on your side of the bed!”

“Good,” he pinches your cheek in retaliation, a smug smile on his face. “At least now you'll understand what it feels like to be given only an inch of space on the bed because my girlfriend and my son are too busy cuddling with each other.”

You glare at him, crossing your arms over your chest. “We do not take up that much space on the bed.”

Sunoo scoffs, though the sound is more amused than sarcastic. “I'm always half a turn away from toppling to the floor.”

“You'll be fine. The floors are warm.”

“So is the bed.”

“You can survive one night on the flooring.”

“I could, but only if you don't hog all the blankets at night.”

“I do not hog the blankets!” You definitely do, and you're well aware of that fact.

“Sure, you don't. And Butterscotch doesn't scream at us for breakfast at exactly 5:50 AM on the dot.”

“Sunoo!”

“You don't have to say my name so many times, you know? You did enough of that last night.”

You punch his arm.

He laughs harder.

But so do you.

“Butter, come back to mama,” you try to coax the little orange menace into your arms, but he stubbornly remains splayed on your boyfriend, even affectionately headbutting Sunoo's chin in response to your calls.

Sunoo snickers, leaning down to let Butterscotch brush against his head, a hand coming up to support the cat. “You're asking a senior citizen to listen to you. That is foolish, no?”

“He may be fourteen, but he has perfectly functional ears,” you huff. Sunoo kisses the top of Butterscotch's head. “Yeah, perfectly functional ears that he is using at the moment to ignore you.”

You pout, and Butterscotch finally relents his onslaught of affection on Sunoo, and turns to you for a little kitty kiss that you gratefully accept. “There's my boy.”

You scratch under his chin and the orange cat purrs happily, but his tail still reaches out to wrap around Sunoo's arm. “Do you want me to be closer, Butter?”

Butterscotch only meows once at him, and Sunoo moves close enough that there's no space remaining between the two of you, his thigh brushing against yours as he wraps an arm around your shoulders to pull you closer into his side. “Is that better, cutie?”

Satisfied with the proximity that's been created, Butterscotch’s purring grows louder and he settles between you and Sunoo, an equal half splayed across the both of your laps.

“Guess we've got to abandon the rest of the day, then,” Sunoo murmurs, a finger brushing over Butterscotch's closed eyes. “His Highness wants to cuddle with us.”

The trees sway with the wind, steadily growing obscured to the vision as fog takes over. The low rumble of thunder rolls outside, before the spitter-patter of raindrops against window panes slowly grows louder.

The apartment is warm, and the coffee machine buzzes with a low hum, still trying to make Sunoo's coffee for the past half an hour. You'll have to call the company and ask for a replacement.

But that can come later.

For now, you lay your head on Sunoo's shoulder. He rests his on top of yours. Butterscotch is now asleep in your laps, dreaming of things only kitties do.

It always is the little things that matter.

Jake shows up first, a bouquet of sunflowers and white roses in hand.

“Hey,” you smile at him. “You brought Butterscotch's favourite flowers.”

He mirrors the expression, though it's more somber and subdued than usual. “Yeah,” he murmurs softly. “Needed to make sure that the little guy could smell his favourite scents. He adores them so much, after all.”

You move to the side to welcome him into the apartment, and he walks in, his footsteps soft and careful, as if afraid to disturb the quiet that had settled over your home.

Heeseung and Jungwon arrive second, carrying an old, worn out toy each. They nod in acknowledgement, light footsteps making their way into the living room. You don't follow, opting to pace by the doorway instead.

Riki, Jay, and Sunghoon show up not more than twenty minutes after, Riki's hands tightly clutched around a brand new pack of tuna treats, while there's a baby blanket slung over Sunghoon's arm. The oldest of the three hugs you tightly, his hands warm against your back.

You lean into Jay, taking in the quiet feelings that bleed through his touch.

The clock echoes twice, signalling the arrival of the second hour of the afternoon.

You finally join them to reunite with the others in the living room, where they're circled around Sunoo on the floor. He leans his head against the sofa, eyes closed as if weighed by the dark shadows under them. Exhaling softly, he huffs out a tired breath when his eyes meet yours.

You take the time to take him in.

His blond hair, so vibrant before, is a bit more dull now. He's paler from the lack of sleep, but you suppose that you don't quite fare much better than him anyways. He gives you an exhausted smile, and pats the little space next to him.

Your eyes trail down to his lap, where Butterscotch lays on a giant, fluffy pillow. Jake brings over the vase of flowers, setting it down onto the wooden floors with a soft ‘Clink!’ that rings out in the apartment far louder than it should. Butterscotch lifts his head, nose twitching as he catches the faint wisp of the flowers’ scent.

Jay holds them closer for him. The feline takes a deep whiff, then lays his head back down. Riki extends his hand to feed him his sixth treat of the hour. Butterscotch eats it anyway.

The clock in the hallway chimes again. 2:30 PM.

You make your way over to them, cuddling into Sunoo's side. He leans his head on your shoulder, hair tickling your skin, but you don't move away. His eyes remain on Butterscotch the entire time.

Sunghoon drapes the baby blanket over him, tucking the corners under the cat, so that he's bundled up in the way he loves to be held. Jungwon and Heeseung wave the toys around, and Butterscotch bats at them exactly twice. They still smile at the sight.

The clock chimes thrice. 3:00 PM.

The bell rings. Nobody moves.

Then Jay gets to his feet, shuffling over to the door. The young woman you've gotten acquainted with over the past two years as Butterscotch's vet walks in, her nose and eyes red. She says it's from the cold on the way over to the apartment.

You don't point out that it's still June.

Jungwon and Riki move to make space for her. She kneels on the floor, leaning her head down to brush her forehead against Butterscotch's head. “Hi, Butterscotch,” her voice is soft, and the feline makes a low noise in his throat, one that you can only consider to be an acknowledgement. “It's Anya. You remember me? You purred so much I couldn't hear your heartbeat the last time I saw you.”

Butterscotch's slow purring starts again, and Sunoo runs his fingers through his fur.

Nobody comments on how laboured it is.

Riki silently hands her the bag of treats. She feeds Butterscotch three instead of her usual two. Then she smoothes his fur over, pressing a kiss to his head.

Sunghoon and Jungwon gently ink both his front paws. Jake carefully presses them onto the paper, leaving behind inked impressions of his paws and toe beans.

You wipe them clean, scratching under his chin.

The rest of the entire process is quick and efficient. Anya doesn't say a word the entire time. Neither do you.

Butterscotch twitches twice, and your hand instinctively reaches out to lay on his side.

The breath you've held the entire time finally seeps out of your lungs.

Sunoo lifts the pillow, and places a kiss onto Butterscotch's head, between his ears.

Anya pulls the stethoscope away, and nods her head.

You give her a watery smile. When she leaves, a heavy silence settles over the room. There's no one speaking. No one breathes out loud.

Then, you lean down to kiss the little orange menace.

Butterscotch doesn't lift his head this time.

Six pairs of arms wrap around you, as Butterscotch lays splayed across Sunoo's and your lap. This time, he remains still.

This time, the bell on his collar doesn't jingle softly as his head rests on Sunoo's palm.

The sound of the door to your bedroom slamming open is incredibly loud and jarring.

It brings you out of your daze, and when you look up from your feet, you find a fuming Jake standing in the doorway.

His breaths are heavy and laboured, as if he'd run all the way to you. Sweat drips down his temple, dropping to his white tee. His glasses are askew, his hair is all over the place, as if the wind had mussed it up, and his flannel is disheveled, one side falling off of his shoulder, while his socks are mismatched, one navy blue and one white.

He meets your eyes, and the fury in his own grows tenfold.

“What the fuck is he doing?” He hisses, storming over to you. You flinch at the volume, and he notices, softening his voice a little, although it does nothing to hide how angry he is. “Why did Jungwon call this morning to tell me that you and Sunoo broke up because he wanted “something more”? Did I seriously hear him right?”

You don't answer him.

Actually, it's more like you don't know how to.

So you keep quiet.

“No fucking way,” Jake breathes out, dropping to his knees next to where you're sat on your bed. “Did he just wake up and leave?”

“Jake.” Your voice is soft, and Jake's heart breaks at how small you sound. “It's not what you think it is.”

“Oh, I'm pretty sure I think I know what this is,” he snarls, scowling as he fists the sheets in rage and sadness. “I told you, he was acting so fucking weird since the time Butterscotch passed. At first, I tried to pass it off as just grief and that he was in mourning, and that I shouldn't say anything because different people grieve in different ways, but then he pulled away from all of us.”

You open your mouth to answer, but Jake doesn't let you, continuing his heated rant.

“It's been a year since then! It was okay when he started getting distant and pulling away. First, he wouldn't come around often, telling us he was ‘tired’ and ‘exhausted.’ Then he started speaking less and less to us. After that, he wouldn't even pick up our calls or read our messages, like he thought himself too good for us, but seriously?! He left you behind for something “better”?! What else or who else could he find that's better than you?!”

“Jake.”

He doesn't listen, continuing to ramble, his hands spinning and twisting in the air like a physical extension of his anger.

“Jake.” You try again.

He still doesn't hear you, his ranting growing louder and louder and louder till your head begins to throb from how much you've been crying all day.

“Jake!”

He stops still at the way you scream his name, and turns to face you properly for the first time since he arrived at your apartment. “Oh,” he breathes out, his own lip quivering at the sight of your red-rimmed eyes, and the way they're puffed from the way you've been sobbing since the morning when Sunoo finally left. “I'm so sorry, bug. I really am so sorry.”

His hands wrap around you in an embrace, but you don't return it.

He holds you for a bit longer, before finally letting go, as he looks up into your eyes. “Talk to me, bug. Tell me what's on your mind.”

You lick your chapped lips, before sighing softly.

“Sunoo's gone, Jake.”

“No, he's not. I'll bring him back, and he's going to apologise to you, and then the rest of us.”

“Jake.”

“I refuse to believe he just up and went.”

“Jake.”

“Who the fuck does he think he is? Does he really think I'll just let him walk away like that, after taking so much from you? Selfish fucking bastard.”

“Jake.”

“I'm sorry I ever considered him a friend.”

“Jake!”

“What?” He glares up at you, his own eyes shining with unshed tears, both at grief for himself and for you.

“Sunoo made his decision himself. We need to respect that.”

Jake looks like he's bitten something that's bitter and sour at the same time. But he doesn't speak anymore, because the finality in your words tell him that you've already accepted this fate.

“Right. Right,” he nods. “Respect the guy who couldn't even leave us with a respectable goodbye.”

“Jake.” Your voice breaks, but it doesn't stop him from standing up. He removes his glasses to wipe away his tears, and turns to you, his face completely blank, with any and all traces of rage and sadness erased from it.

“I'll order in some dinner for you. Have that, and go to sleep early. You've got a shift in the morning tomorrow. Or take the day off. I don't really care.”

You sigh softly.

“I…” He pauses, then nods his head again. “I'm going home. Layla's been very anxious as of late.”

“Okay.” You agree. “Take care.”

“… You too.”

Then he's off once more, the sound of the door falling shut behind him echoing far too loud in your ears.

You cry some more into Sunoo's hoodie, still bearing his scent from when he'd worn it a week ago.

At least the silver lining here is that your boss likes you quite a bit.

The city truly comes alive at night.

It's been three months since Sunoo left.

Everyone else—Heeseung, Jay, Sunghoon, Jungwon, Riki—came after Jake left your apartment that Thursday. They asked the same questions that he did. “Why did Sunoo leave like that, so abruptly?”

You still told them the same thing you told Jake.

“Please respect that it was Sunoo's decision to leave.”

They seemed put off by that answer. Their expressions screamed that they wanted an answer beyond that simple, final sentence, but you didn't quite have the words nor the energy to explain everything to them.

Riki and Jungwon seemed the most affected by your easy acceptance of Sunoo's departure. They'd been the closest to him after Jake, and to see you simply tell them to leave the matter alone by framing it as Sunoo's decision, must've really hurt them. Probably hurt quite a bit too, considering the frequency of their visits to your home had slowly begun to dwindle.

First it had been the youngest two.

Then it had been Heeseung and Sunghoon. Work kept them busy, but even then, you could see through the gaps where they had begun to form.

The last one had been Jay. He'd been over one night, aware of how everyone had begun to drift away. He said nothing, but the forlorn expression on his face as he left told you enough.

Only Jake came over as often as he used to. But even his visits were shorter, dropping by to check up on you, before he left. Layla had been steadily growing more anxious over the last few months, and he'd also got himself a girlfriend.

You'd met her once, when Jake invited you out to eat, after you'd spent one too many weekends staying at home. She was pretty, but she was also sweet and kind—the kind that was perfect for Jake.

You smile at the thought of her. At least Jake has someone to take care of him now.

The air seemed especially cold tonight, and you pull your scarf closer to yourself. The early September chill had begun to seep in, just as warmer jackets and scarves had begun to make their yearly reappearances once more.

The street buzzes around you, lamp posts diffusing golden light over the pathways. Golden, you pause under one, looking up at the sky where a single, lonely star twinkles by itself. Just like him and his hair.

Everything about tonight seemed to be connected to Sunoo.

You pass by the fourth corner of the seventh street, where stands a giant billboard with an advertisement for his favourite brand of soda.

Then comes the park, with a couple laughing and spending time with each other in the swings. 1 AM. Two cans of vanilla flavoured soda resting against the metal poles of the swings.

You continue to walk.

The animal shelter by the lakefront appears. It's still operating, low hums of the generator melding with the soft meows and yips of its residents, cut by the gentle human voices that speak to them. Pink carrier. He'd been the one to pick it out. A very grumpy, old, and annoyed orange cat meowing—actually, howling—in your backseat the entire time you drove back to your apartment.

You flit past the entrance.

The grocery store at the second avenue. The neon signs have been replaced by something that's easier to read. LEDs, perhaps. You're not sure. Midnight grocery runs. You were never really sure about whether you wanted the strawberry chews or the lemon ones, so he'd put both in, sneaking in a bag of mint chocolate too. You always looked away at the cashier's counter.

Your feet remain in continuous motion.

The café on the third exit of the roundabout. The decor is finally more tasteful now, the horrendously large lights replaced in favour of softer, warmer lanterns. He always said that his eyes hurt, even when he sat in the booth farthest from the lights. Still, he came back—and forced you to come with him—every time because he adored their brownies.

The barista flips the sign to ‘CLOSED’ just as you walk past the door.

The florist tucked away in the third alley. You've never really been here. It's just on the way during an easier shortcut on the way back home. They usually display their flowers in the windowfront. Sunflowers, daisies, orchids, dahlias. Tonight, it's roses.

More specifically, white roses.

Your feet come to a halt by the storefront.

Your reflection stares back at you. He'd tucked the delicate bouquet of white roses into your lap the moment you got into his car. “It's a Thursday, and what kind of person even brings white roses to a first date?” He'd smiled so wide his eyes crinkled at the corners. “The kind that takes his date to a restaurant by the sea for a first date.” You smiled back.

The florist peeks her head out of the door, tapping your shoulder. You blink, turning to look at her. She's probably not older than nineteen, that youthful flush still colouring her skin. She gives you a shy smile, pointing to the flowers. “Would you like a few?”

You stare at her for a few minutes.

Then, you smile. “Sure. Make it pretty, please.”

She gives you a pleased smile, and ushers you inside from the cold.

Looking at her deft fingers carefully arrange the bouquet to your liking, your chest warms, the metal of the little pendant with the koi fish warming with your skin. You pay and thank her, heading back outside, the scent of roses clinging to your skin now.

The air is colder, and your scarf comes loose by just a bit. The streetlamps still shine golden. You look up at the sky, which has grown cloudier now.

But now, a second star shines besides the first one. Its glow is dimmer than its counterpart, more silver than gold, but it still shines through the clouds.

You smile at the sight, clutching the bouquet closer.

Yes, Sunoo had made his decision.

It was now time to make yours.

The phone in your palm rings once, twice, thrice.

“Hello?” Jake picks up on the fourth ring. Layla's excited yips mix with the soft coos of his girlfriend in the background.

Your smile grows wider at the sound.

“Hey,” you greet. “Where are you?”

“At home, why?” His voice crackles through the speakers. “Layla's finally a bit calmer now, so my girlfriend and I thought it'd be a good idea to have a date night.”

“That's good. Enjoy your time. Tell her that I said hi.” You hum softly.

“I will,” his voice is soft. “But did you need something? Why'd you call?”

“Oh, it's nothing much. Just wanted to tell you that I was going on a trip.”

“A trip? Now?” You hum louder. “Yeah. Wanted to get some self-reflection in. It's been a while since I've spent time by myself.”

Jake is silent for a bit, before he answers you again. “Have fun, then. When are you leaving?”

“Probably tomorrow,” the excited lilt returns to your voice. “Will you let the others know? It's pretty late, so I'm not sure that they'll pick up my calls.”

“Sure,” Jake replies, as if it was no second matter. “I will.”

“Thanks, Jake.”

The line is silent for a bit longer. “Take care.”

“Mhm, you too. Love you, Jake.”

He's quiet once again.

“What, you don't love me anymore?”

He scoffs at your playful jab. “Yeah, I don't. Not one bit—of course I love you too, you stupid bug. How long will you be gone for?”

“A while.”

“Short or long?”

“A bit long, I think.”

He pauses, and you hear the soft clink of a mug being set on the counter, as his girlfriend whispers to him that she's going to go set the movie up.

“… Have fun, bug. I've been a bit sick of seeing your face so much, too.”

You don't answer immediately.

The amused lilt of his voice makes you smile some more.

The wind picks up its speed, and a few rose petals scatter along with it.

“Yeah, don't worry about that,” you close your eyes, as the scent of roses grows stronger with each pass of the breeze.

Jake’s laughter echoes in your ears, the sound sweet as ever. Oh, how you truly did love Sim Jaeyun.

“I do plan on not coming back any time soon.”

The ink on the pages blurs from his tears, blotting the white sheet with splotches of running pink, glittering spots.

Jake holds the pendant in his hand, though with the way his fingers tremble, it threatens to slip out of his grasp, much in the same way his life had since today morning.

The sky had been somber, and the birds didn't chirp the same way they usually did, like they were grieving something they'd lost too.

Sunoo's letters had arrived that morning. Six of them. One for each of them. Labelled with their names and addresses in shaky handwriting, but still undeniably his. To Heeseung hyung. To Jay hyung. To Jake hyung. To Sunghoon hyung. To Jungwon. To Riki.

If he was going to be honest with himself, he wasn't even going to open his. The wound that Sunoo had left behind by leaving so abruptly still stung and festered, but Layla had fetched it from the table for him when he'd set it away.

And god, he would've regretted not reading it.

The letter itself had started simple.

Sunoo asked him about his life, about his girlfriend, about Layla. He talked about the sea by the place he was staying at, how the stars shone so brightly in the sky at night. He talked about the way the mint chocolate he'd get was so bland, he missed the ones from the grocery stores back here. Typical Sunoo.

Then he spoke about how sorry he was. And Sunoo seemed sorry for a lot of things.

He said sorry for missing their hangouts. For talking less and less to them. For not giving Butterscotch more kisses when he could. For missing Layla's birthday party. For not picking up his calls. For not picking up everyone else's calls. For not replying to their messages.

But he seemed really apologetic about one thing.

He said he was really, really sorry for not telling them about the illness.

The same one that had taken his final breaths today, with a severe heart failure. The hospital had called a few hours after. Said Sunoo passed in his sleep. That he was peaceful.

And the only thing Jake could think about after that call was you.

So he'd come over to your apartment as soon as he could, only to find it empty. The apartment itself was clean, with nothing out of place.

His phone rang with messages from the others, telling him that they'd be coming over soon, too.

For a moment, he thought about searching for you. Then, he remembered that you were out on a trip.

So he decided to call, because he knew you didn't read texts very quickly.

With his phone raised to his ear, the line was ringing, lying in wait for the other side to pick up, when he saw it.

An envelope, left behind on your vanity.

He tried his hardest to ignore it, but his curiosity won over anyways. So he walked right to it, and flipped it over. There was no address on it, and he was about to put it back down, when a familiar chain slipped out of the envelope.

He sets his phone down. The voicemail with your voice still rings out.

Jake's breath hitched at the sight. He carefully peeled away the glue, opening it up… and there it was. The pendant he gave you for your birthday.

The one you never took off.

The one with the two koi fishes you'd dubbed as him and Sunoo.

His eyes stung a little.

Your letter was written with a pink glitter pen. Much like Sunoo, you too talked about the sea and the flowers at the cliffside. About the way the birds came to chirp in the morning by your window, letting you know that they wanted you to feed them.

Then you talked about the illness. How the diagnosis had come two days before Butterscotch's passing. It was advanced cardiac cancer, the doctors had said. They'd do everything to help, but the chances of recovery would be low.

About how hard it was sometimes, to see Sunoo suffer under the weight of his own failing body. About how he wanted to move away to a different place for his treatment, so that his friends wouldn't have to see wither away, even if it meant that they'd hate him for it. About how you went over to him every weekend, just to see the way that the treatment procedures at the hospital seemed to sap his energy away day by day.

You wrote about Sunoo's letters, too.

About how you had to hold Sunoo's hand to support him as he wrote his six letters, and that he'd asked for his shaky handwriting to be excused for.

Then you apologised, too. About keeping it all a secret from him, from the others. That it was Sunoo's wish to be remembered as bright as he could be, and that there was no way you couldn't let the sun shine when it wanted to.

His vision grows blurrier, the letter grows harder to read.

You knew about it all.

Had known from the start.

The pendant slips from his fingers, clattering to the vanity table, as he reaches the end of the letter.

The sound of your voice ends, as the call hangs up.

Jake holds his head in his hands. His phone buzzes once more, lighting up with another call from the hospital. He stares at it for a bit longer, letting it ring.

Finally, with agonising slowness, he picks it up.

The person on the other end introduces himself as a doctor, and tells Jake that he's sorry for his loss. He thanks him quietly, and nods along.

The sound of the front door opening reaches his ears, as five sets of rushed footsteps head in the direction of your bedroom.

Riki bursts through first, his eyes red and face flushed. Jungwon and Sunghoon follow him after, as Heeseung wraps an arm around Jungwon to steady him.

The last one to meet his eyes is Jay.

The person on the line asks him to take care of his health, and to take his time to grieve. He agrees, and finally sets the phone back down.

“Why didn't he tell us?” Riki is the first one to break, sobbing into his hands. Sunghoon helps him sit down on your bed. Jungwon looks like he's going to throw up, and Jake feels like he will too. Still, he swallow the bile, and sits up straighter on the vanity stool.

Heeseung brings two glasses of water for the two youngest, trying to coax them into drinking some. Jay, his face strangely calm, turns to Jake. But he knows better—the hollowed look in Jay's eyes is something Jake understands entirely. “Was it the hospital that called you now?”

Jake nods, as Jungwon's sobs and Riki's wails grow louder. Sunghoon and Heeseung are tearing up too, despite the fact that they're still trying to comfort the other two. Only he and Jay are the ones who haven't cried yet.

“What did they say now?” Sunghoon asks, as Jay tries to calm Jungwon down. Jake answers quietly, that it was a check up call. But before he can say anything further, Heeseung cuts in.

“Where's she?”

Jake swallows softly. “Away.”

Heeseung nods. “Did she know?”

“Yes.” Jake's voice is calm as he answers. “But Sunoo asked her to keep it a secret.”

The older three frown at that, as the meaning of what you'd meant by “respecting” Sunoo's decision clicks into place.

“We were so wrong about both of them.” Jay mutters softly, his own eyes growing red.

“No.” Jake disagrees with that, as the last part of his conversation with the doctor echoes in his mind. “No, we weren't.”

“What do you mean?” Jungwon hiccups. Heeseung frowns, breathing heavily. “Now is not the time for cryptics, Jake.”

“I know,” Jake holds up your letter for them to see. “Remember how back in high school, we always used to joke about how she and Sunoo always searched for each other first?”

He points to the last line of your letter, and Jay sobs at the sight of it.

“We got one thing right.” Heeseung scoffs, wiping his tears. Sunghoon cries into Jay's shoulder, and Jake feels his own tears fall freely down his face. He smiles sadly, and it bleeds into a sob. “Yeah, we got one thing right.”

He picks up the pendant again, and clutches it to his chest.

Today, he'll grieve.

Tomorrow, he'll have two funerals to prepare for.

He looks back down at the letter, and smiles again.

Your handwriting is still there, etched into the paper like an epitaph to a headstone, only written in pink glitter, because he knows that it's the closest thing you had lying around.

Yeah, he really did get three things right. It was always a fucking Thursday with you and Sunoo, wasn't it? He spots the bouquet of white roses in the vase on the table next to your bed, the petals just beginning to brown at the edges. And those fucking white roses. The air freshner's scent of the sea wafts around the room. And the fucking sea. It was always those three with the two of you, wasn't it? A choked laugh bubbles out of him, as his eyes finally land on the little box displaying Butterscotch's faded pink collar.

[I love all of you. I especially love you a lot, my dearest childhood friend, Sim Jaeyun.]

The way the two of you are so in love sickens him so much.

[But I've already made my choice.]

Because no matter where either of you go….

[And both you and I know that there's nowhere else I'd be, other than his side.]

... or far apart the two of you are…

You'll always go back to Sunoo.

taglist: @kristynaaah @isa942572 @fataltrblr @yethoughts @hueningsgirl @graythecoffeebean @zoe1love @naiasayo

The sound of keys jingling in the lock was your cue to put the kettle on.

Jay always came through the door like the world outside was a costume he could finally peel off. Here, in the apartment nobody knew he shared with you, he didn’t have to be Park Jongseong, idol, performer, Enhypen’s beloved ace. Here, he was just Jay —your Jay. The one who danced with you while brushing his teeth, who left shoes scattered in the hallway, and who whispered stupidly sweet things into your shoulder when he couldn’t sleep.

No one knew.

Not really.

No one knew. The members knew he had a second apartment. A “quiet place.” They didn’t know about your toothbrush beside his, or the cardigan hanging off his desk chair, or how your presence had quietly settled into every corner of the space. Two years of careful balance. Secret. Contained.

Until tonight.

“Wifey,” Jay called from the front door, voice already smiling, “you didn’t burn the place down while I was getting the groceries, right?”

You laughed, meeting him halfway to steal a quick kiss and grab a bag from his arms. “Not yet. But there’s still time.”

He grinned. That same soft, boyish grin that made your chest ache.

The members were coming over for dinner —for the first time. The idea had started as some hopeful wishing, then turned into Jay sitting on the edge of the bed one night saying he was tired of splitting his life in half. He wanted the people he loved in the same room.

You’d hesitated. You understood what secrets cost in this industry.

“They’ll like you,” he’d said, stubborn and hopeful. “They just don’t know it yet.”

You weren’t convinced.

----------------------------------

When the doorbell rang, you forced yourself to breathe before opening it.

Jungwon. Heeseung. Jake. Sunghoon. Sunoo. Ni-ki.

Polite greetings. Polite smiles.

Their eyes moved slowly over the apartment. Your shoes by the door. The framed photo turned slightly toward the wall. The lived-in warmth that didn’t match the story they’d been told.

Jay, oblivious, clapped his hands once. “See? Not a cave.”

You offered drinks. Jake thanked you with an easy smile. Sunoo complimented the smell of the stew. Heeseung nodded warmly.

Sunghoon’s gaze lingered.

He stepped closer to the shelf, fingers brushing the edge of the photo frame before straightening it —just enough to reveal it fully.

A candid of you and Jay on the couch, his head tipped toward yours.

Sunghoon’s expression didn’t change. “Didn’t know this place was… decorated.”

His tone was cold. Too cold.

Jay laughed from the kitchen. “What? I live here.”

Sunghoon hummed softly. “Right.”

The word wasn’t agreement. It was assessment.

Jay returned with side dishes and slid an arm around your shoulder. “This is who I’ve been talking about,” he said proudly. “My wife—okay, not legally, but basically in my heart.”

You laughed, but you felt it—that slight tightening in the room.

Ni-ki muttered something under his breath. Heeseung shot him a look.

Sunghoon leaned back in his chair. “That’s a bold title.”

Jay grinned. “I’m a bold guy.”

Sunghoon’s eyes flicked to you. “I guess so.”

Jay didn’t hear it. Or pretended not to.

A few minutes later, Jay stood abruptly. “I forgot the sides. You guys talk. I’ll be right back.”

The second he disappeared into the kitchen, the air shifted.

You folded your hands in your lap. “So… schedules have been intense lately?”

Jake nodded politely. Sunoo smiled faintly. No one elaborated.

Sunghoon tilted his head slightly. “How long has this been going on?”

His voice was calm. Casual.

“Two years,” you answered, because lying would be worse.

His eyebrows lifted —just a fraction. “Two.”

There was something sharp in the way he repeated it.

“That’s… impressive,” he continued. “Keeping something like this hidden.”

You couldn’t tell if it was admiration or accusation.

“We were careful,” you said quietly.

Sunghoon’s gaze held yours. “You’d have to be.”

Jungwon stood then, muttering something about getting water. You excused yourself soon after, heart beating too loud in your ears.

The hallway felt narrower.

You’d barely taken two steps before Jungwon’s voice stopped you.

“You know this could ruin his career, right?”

His words were steady, controlled. Protective.

Your stomach dropped, but you kept your voice even. “Jay wanted you to meet me.”

“And if someone finds out?” Jungwon pressed. “You think the company’s going to protect this?”

The words hit like a slap.

You blinked. Swallowed. Your heart thundered behind your ribs, but you kept your voice calm, light, like you didn’t feel like throwing up.

“Jay’s been really excited for this dinner,” you said simply.

And then you slipped past him without another word.

You didn’t cry. Not when Jay returned to the table and tucked a stray hair behind your ear. Not when he laughed with his members, completely unaware of the tension you were wading through. Not even when he kissed your temple and whispered, “See? I told you they’d love you.”

You smiled and nodded and laughed at the right times.

You even helped clean up when they left.

And when Jay, blissfully unaware, fell asleep beside you that night, arm slung across your waist and smile still ghosting his lips

you got up. Quietly.

Finally letting the tears fall.

By the time the sun rose, your side of the bed was cold. Your toothbrush was gone. Your keys were missing from the hook.

And the apartment —the secret home you’d built together— suddenly felt a little too big for one person.

----------------------------------

The morning light slipped gently through the blinds, drawing soft golden lines across the bedspread. Jay stirred, groaning as he rolled over, expecting to bury his face in your shoulder, to feel your warmth curled into him like always.

But you weren’t there.

His arm stretched across the sheets, landing in the dip where your body should’ve been —but there was only the faint warmth left. 

Still half-asleep, Jay blinked his eyes open, the smile already forming.

“Babe?” he mumbled into the pillow.

No answer.

He sat up slowly, rubbing his eyes. The covers were still in place, the pillow you always used still nestled beside his —creased, slightly indented. Like you had only just left. It still smelled like your shampoo.

For a second, he closed his eyes again and inhaled the scent of you. He smiled faintly, thinking maybe you were in the kitchen. Maybe you were making toast, humming something off-key.

But something felt… off.

Jay stood, letting the blanket fall away as he padded out into the apartment.

No music. No tea kettle. No faint tapping of your feet on the floor.

He moved through each room, slower now. A creeping heaviness pulling at his limbs.

The mug you always used —gone. Not just in the sink. Gone.

He turned to the coat rack. Your favorite jacket? Missing. The hoodie you always said he stretched out too much when he wore it? No longer slung over the back of the couch.

He blinked rapidly, heart thudding harder.

He rushed back to the bedroom, flinging open drawers.

Empty.

Not completely —but enough.

Enough to know this wasn’t some morning errand. This wasn’t a walk to clear your head.

This was intentional.

The bathroom counter didn’t look like you brushed your teeth there this morning. The book on the nightstand you’d been halfway through? Gone.

Jay’s throat tightened as he looked around the space that was no longer a shared home —but just a place where you used to be.

His phone buzzed, dragging him out of the haze.

A group chat notification.

Jungwon [8:03 AM]:

Thanks again for last night. Good food. Hope you got some rest.

Jay barely read it.

He opened your contact instead.

Jay [8:03 AM]:

Princess, where are you?

Jay [8:04 AM]:

Are you okay?

Jay [8:07 AM]:

Please just tell me you’re safe.

He stared at the screen.

Nothing.

He sank back onto the bed, gripping the edge of the mattress, his knuckles white.

----------------------------------

Inside the dorm, he didn’t even take off his shoes. Just stormed in like a man possessed.

The air was off immediately.

They were all there. Relaxed. Normal.

He wasn’t.

“Where is she?” he demanded, eyes sweeping the room.

Confused glances. Uneasy shifts. A tension that wasn’t new—but now he could feel it like static in his chest.

Jake looked up from his phone. “What?”

“Y/N. She’s gone.” Jay’s voice cracked, but he kept going. “She left last night. Took her things. No note. No text. Nothing.”

His phone buzzed in his palm again.

He didn’t even try to hide it this time.

He looked.

Missed call: Mom

Not you.

His stomach twisted.

“She wouldn’t just leave.” His voice was softer now. “She wouldn’t do that unless something happened.”

He scanned their faces. Heeseung looked down. Jake bit his lip. Jungwon wouldn’t meet his eyes.

Jay’s heart sank.

“You knew something was wrong last night,” he said, realization hitting like a brick to the ribs. “You all knew, and you didn’t tell me.”

No one answered.

He looked around at them, at the silence that followed. Their guilty eyes. The way Jungwon didn’t even try to look surprised.

And that’s when it clicked.

He felt it like a slap.

“You knew,” he said, voice low. “You knew something was wrong last night.”

Jungwon finally stood. “Jay, you lied to us for years.”

“I protected her,” Jay snapped. “Because this world is brutal, and you know it. I wanted her to be safe. I never thought I had to protect her from you.”

His phone buzzed again. He fumbled for it this time, breath hitching

Random Email Notification 

He shut his eyes, pressing the phone to his forehead like it could stop the ache crawling through his chest.

“I let you guys meet her because I thought you’d love her,” he said, voice tight. “Because I love her.”

Sunghoon stepped forward cautiously. “We were hurt. It felt like you shut us out.”

“You think this is about you?”

Jay turned on them, rage and grief mixing in his throat.

“She sat at that table smiling through every cold stare. She went to that dinner knowing it might not go well —but did it anyway. For me. And when you guys left, she pretended it didn’t bother her. She kissed me goodnight like everything was fine.”

His voice cracked.

“And I believed her.”

He looked down at his phone again. No messages. No missed calls. No signs of you.

“Every time my phone buzzes,” he said quietly, “I pray it’s her.”

The screen lit up again.

Another random email.

He shoved it into his pocket.

“I don’t care what any of you think,” Jay said, backing toward the door. “I’m going to find her. Even if I have to check every café, park bench, and corner of this city.”

And before any of them could speak, he was gone.

----------------------------------

The soft hum of Chae’s hair dryer in the bathroom was the only noise in the apartment.

You sat on her couch, knees tucked under your chin, one of her oversized hoodies drowning your frame. Your duffel bag sat by the door —half unpacked, but still zipped just enough to suggest this was temporary.

Because part of you kept waiting for yourself to go back.

To him.

Your phone buzzed.

Again.

You didn’t have to check it. You already knew who it was.

Jay [11:03 AM]

I don’t know where you are, but I need you to know I’m sorry. If something happened last night that hurt you… please just tell me. Please.

You stared at the screen.

You had read every single one.

You just couldn’t bring yourself to answer.

Chae emerged from the bathroom, towel-wrapping her damp hair, eyeing you from across the room. “You’re gonna make a hole in the floor if you keep staring like that.”

You managed a weak smile. “Sorry.”

She plopped down next to you, pulling her legs up. “You don’t have to apologize to me. But maybe you should to yourself. For holding it all in that long.”

Your lips pressed into a thin line.

“I really thought they’d like me,” you said quietly.

Chae’s gaze softened. “I’m sure some of them do. But let’s be real, Jay dropped a bomb on them and expected them to throw a party.”

You stayed quiet.

She glanced down at your phone, which was now lighting up again.

Jay [11:10 AM]

I swear I didn’t know they treated you like that. I thought last night was perfect. I was so happy. I was so happy…

You locked the screen again.

“I don’t want to ruin his life, Chae,” you said, voice barely a whisper.

“You didn’t,” she said gently. “You were his life.”

You looked down at your hands. “Then why did it feel like I was the one being punished for it?”

Chae leaned her head on your shoulder. “Because people don’t like being left out of things that matter. And you mattered. A lot.”

You felt your throat tighten.

“I didn’t want to leave,” you whispered.

“I know.”

You turned your phone over so the screen faced down.

“I just don’t want to be the reason his dream fails...he works so hard.”

And finally, for the first time since you left, the tears came. Quiet and slow. The kind that didn’t demand attention but dragged every ounce of hurt to the surface.

Chae didn’t say anything more.

She just stayed with you —still and safe.

Outside, the city moved on. The world didn’t know anything had fallen apart.

But in Chae’s tiny living room, curled up in borrowed clothes and borrowed time, you felt like you were still holding on by a thread.

Your phone buzzed again.

But this time, you didn’t look.

Not yet.

----------------------------------

One Month Later

The dorm felt smaller somehow.

Louder. Heavier. Even when no one was speaking.

Jay sat at the edge of his bed, elbows resting on his knees, head bowed, fingers absently curling into the hem of an old t-shirt that didn’t belong to him.

It was yours.

Soft and worn, the faded fabric still held your scent —barely, but enough that he kept it close. He hadn’t washed it. Couldn’t. Like it would erase the last piece of you that clung to him.

Your pillow was behind him, propped against the dorm mattress like it didn’t belong there —because it didn’t. It looked wrong surrounded by his things. Out of place, like you were now.

He hadn’t gone back to the apartment.

Not since that morning.

He moved back in with the members after you left. Said it was just temporary. Said he needed “a change of scenery.”

But they all knew the truth.

He couldn’t bear waking up in that place without you.

Still, he hadn’t canceled the lease. The rent quietly left his account every month, untouched. The fridge was still stocked. Your slippers were still by the door.

He didn’t even know where to start looking.

You had friends, of course. A few he remembered from stories you’d told him in passing. But no one close enough that he knew their address.

He’d texted. Called. DM’d. Nothing.

He even emailed.

Nothing.

And every time his phone buzzed, he dove for it like a mad man.

One new notification

He looked.

A label reminder for a livestream.

Not you.

He tossed the phone down.

Then picked it right back up.

Opened your chat thread again.

Jay [9:17 AM]

I’m sorry. I know I said that a hundred times already but I need you to know I mean it. I’d say it a thousand more. Just tell me where you are. Please.

No reply.

The members had noticed.

Heeseung said nothing at first, but started showing up at his door with coffee.

Jake checked on him constantly, always trying to get him out of the dorm —even just to walk.

Sunoo tried to make him laugh, but even he started giving up when Jay’s smiles never reached his eyes.

And Jungwon…

Jungwon watched him like someone waiting for a string to snap.

“You should go back to the apartment,” Jungwon had told him once.

Jay shook his head. “I can’t.”

“Why not?”

Jay’s voice had been quiet. “It still feels like hers.”

----------------------------------

“Okay, no offense, but you’re starting to blend into the couch.”

You didn’t even look up from your spot, curled into Chae’s throw blanket like a blanket burrito, half-scrolling, half-sulking. “It’s a nice couch.”

Chae dropped beside you with a thud, tossing a pillow at your legs. “It’s a couch that’s seen you in the same hoodie for five days straight.”

You grumbled into the cushion. “I don’t have anywhere to be.”

“Exactly the problem.” She sighed. “Y/N, I love you, but this isn’t healthy. You barely go outside, you haven’t touched your makeup bag, and you’re on your fourth rewatch of weightlifting fairy kim bok joo.”

You tried not to smile, but your lips betrayed you just a little.

“Fine,” you muttered. “I’ll get out. But I’m only going for snacks. Your snacks, by the way. I’ve been stress-eating all your chips.”

Chae rolled her eyes, “As long as sunlight or moonlight hits your skin at least once today, I’ll allow it.”

You threw on a baseball cap, hoodie, and sunglasses —just in case. Not because you expected to see anyone you knew.

Especially not them.

The walk to the convenience store was quiet, the way you liked things now.

No questions. No stares. No reminders of the life you’d walked away from.

You wandered through the aisles aimlessly, grabbing a drink, a few bags of chips, and the candy you love. The place was mostly empty —just you and a guy grabbing ramen cups near the back wall.

It was peaceful.

You turned the corner toward the refrigerated drinks and froze.

There he was.

Jungwon.

Baseball cap pulled low, black hoodie, earbuds tucked in. He hadn’t seen you yet.

You ducked, heart slamming in your chest. Of all people —why him?

You turned fast, heading for the register.

“Y/N?”

Your name cracked the air like a whip.

You didn’t turn around.

Just dropped your items on the counter, trying not to shake as the cashier scanned them.

“Hey—wait! Y/N, it’s me!”

His voice was louder now. You could hear his footsteps behind you, closing in.

You tossed a crumpled bill onto the counter and grabbed your bag, mumbling a thank-you before turning sharply toward the door.

“Y/N, please—can we just talk for a second?”

You didn’t answer.

Just shoved the door open and walked faster.

Maybe if you could get around the corner. Maybe if you just made it to the end of the block—

“Y/N!”

You glanced back for half a second.

He had dropped the basket he was holding. Left it right there in the middle of the store. He was coming after you.

You turned back around and started walking faster.

But it was too late.

Jungwon was already jogging to catch up, calling your name like he has any right to. 

“Y/N—wait, please.”

You kept walking, arms crossed tight over your chest, shoulders hunched like you could fold yourself into invisibility.

But Jungwon caught up anyway.

He slowed beside you, breathing lightly, trying to keep pace without crowding you. “I just want to talk—just for a second.”

You said nothing.

“I didn’t know you were staying around here,” he said, cautiously. “Jay’s been trying to find you.”

You flinched at the name.

He saw it.

“Y/N,” Jungwon said, softer now, “he’s not okay.”

“Stop.”

Your voice came out barely above a whisper.

He blinked. “What?”

You turned to face him for the first time, your chin trembling even as you held your ground.

“Don’t,” you said. “You don't get to talk to me about him.”

He froze. You weren’t yelling. You were hurting.

Tears had begun to form at the corners of your eyes, glistening beneath your lashes, but you refused to let them fall.

Jungwon stepped back like he’d been slapped. “Okay. I won’t.”

Silence settled over both of you, thick and heavy. Cars passed on the street behind you. The city moved on, uncaring.

You took a breath.

Then another.

Then, without saying a word, you turned and started walking again —back toward Chae’s apartment. 

But behind you, after a few seconds, you heard his footsteps again.

Still there.

Still following.

You kept your pace steady, trying not to let the tears fall as you walked back toward Chae’s apartment. Jungwon matched your steps without a word.

The streetlights flickered on as dusk crept in, casting long shadows over the cracked sidewalks. The city buzzed faintly around you, but all you could hear was the steady sound of your own breathing —and the soft footsteps behind you.

As you reached the building, your heart hammered harder. You slowed, then stopped just before the entrance, the familiar doorframe suddenly feeling too heavy.

You turned quickly, catching Jungwon’s gaze.

His eyes were steady, calm —no judgment, no expectation. Just watching.

No words passed between you.

Jungwon nodded, then stepped away into the darkening street, his figure blending into the shadows as you pushed open the door and disappeared inside.

You didn’t look back.

But you knew he was still watching.

----------------------------------

The next day, the apartment door clicked open and Chae stepped inside, dropping her bag by the door with a tired sigh.

“You won’t believe this,” she said, toeing off her shoes as she crossed the room. “Some weird guy’s been hanging around the building all afternoon.”

You glanced up from the couch. “Weird how?”

She tossed her keys onto the counter, brow furrowing. “Black hoodie. Mask. Just pacing near the entrance like he’s waiting for someone.”

Your chest tightened before your brain caught up.

Jungwon.

You swallowed, the memory of his voice from the night before settling heavy in your stomach. Without thinking, you leaned forward and reached for your shoes. “I’m just going to check something.”

Chae blinked. “Check what?”

“I’ll be back,” you said, already standing.

Outside, the air was cooler than you expected, the sky just beginning to darken. You took the stairs instead of the elevator, your pulse loud in your ears. And then you saw him —leaning against a lamppost near the entrance, hood pulled low, posture tense but patient.

He looked up when you approached, surprise flickering briefly across his face before smoothing out.

“Y/N,” Jungwon said quietly.

“What are you doing here?” You kept your voice even.

He hesitated, then straightened. “Can we talk? It’s not about Jay. I promise.”

You studied him for a moment, weighing exhaustion against curiosity. Finally, you nodded. “Okay.”

You walked together, not back inside, but away from the building —toward a small park a few blocks down, half-forgotten and mostly empty. The city noise dulled there, replaced by the rustle of leaves and the low hum of traffic in the distance. A few streetlights cast soft circles over empty benches.

You sat beneath a large oak tree, the space between you careful, deliberate.

“I want to know who you are,” Jungwon said after a moment. His voice was low, cautious. “Not just… who you are to him.”

You let out a tired breath. “Yeah. I guess to you I’m just ‘Jay’s girlfriend.’”

He shook his head slightly. “That’s not fair. To you. Or to him.”

You stared at your hands, twisting the hem of your sleeve. “I just try to keep him grounded. That’s all. It’s harder when the people he trusts don’t even know I exist.”

Jungwon didn’t interrupt. His expression softened, not pity, but something closer to understanding.

You found yourself talking anyway. Small things at first. Your favorite coffee shop tucked between two bookstores. Your love for old movies with terrible endings. How you once tried to learn guitar and gave up because your fingers hurt too much.

For a few minutes, it didn’t feel like a confession. Just conversation.

Then you smiled faintly and added, “Jay tried to teach me once. I got the pick stuck between the strings and panicked like the guitar was attacking me.”

Your laugh came out uneven.

“He looked so offended,” you continued, voice wavering. “I laughed until I cried.”

The memory settled heavy in your chest. Your eyes burned, and you turned your face away before the tears could spill.

“I’m sorry,” you murmured.

Jungwon reached out, resting his hand lightly against your arm. He didn’t grip it. Didn’t push. Just there.

“You don’t need to apologize,” he said quietly.

You stood abruptly, brushing at your face. “I should go.”

He rose too, hesitating. “Can I walk you back?”

After a beat, you nodded.

The walk back was quiet —not awkward, just careful. When you reached the building, he stopped a few steps short of the entrance.

“Thank you,” he said. “For trusting me.”

You nodded once and went inside.

Over the next seven days, it became routine.

Each evening after practice, Jungwon would wait near Chae’s building. No messages. Just a shared understanding. You’d walk together to the same small park, sit on the same bench beneath the oak tree, talk about nothing and everything until the city lights felt softer.

Day 1

You talked about your childhood —the small town, the slow afternoons, the music that first made you believe there was more out there. Jungwon listened with genuine focus, asking questions, smiling at the right moments, laughing softly when you shared stories you hadn’t told in years.

Day 2

He opened up in return. About the weight of leadership, about how being relied on so heavily sometimes left him feeling unsteady and unsure. You didn’t interrupt, just nodded, letting him speak. It felt like trust was being built, piece by piece.

Day 3

The conversation lightened. Movies, shows, half-serious debates over characters and endings. Jungwon admitted he was terrible at binge-watching but promised —hand to heart— that he’d try your favorites anyway. You teased him for it, and he laughed, unguarded.

Day 4

That night was quieter. He spoke about missing normalcy —walking without being watched, existing without expectation. You didn’t offer solutions or reassurance. You just stayed, shoulder close to his, letting silence do what words couldn’t.

Day 5

He told you stories from the group’s early days, the embarrassing ones he clearly didn’t share often. You laughed until your sides hurt. By the end of it, the other members felt less like distant figures and more like people you almost knew.

Day 6

You brought snacks as a peace offering. He showed up with coffee from a nearby street cart, slightly too sweet, still warm. The exchange was small, almost trivial, but it felt like a bridge —something solid between two very different worlds.

Day 7

By the end of the week, words came easier. You talked about Jay —not the idol, not the image, but the person he was when no one was watching. Jungwon didn’t comment, didn’t judge. He just listened. When your voice wavered and you wiped at your eyes, he passed you a napkin without a word.

That quiet understanding stayed with you long after the night ended.

----------------------------------

The dorm felt quieter than he remembered.

Not because it actually was —someone had music playing down the hall, laughter drifted in and out from a late-night game— but because everything reached him like it was underwater. Muted. Distant. As if the world had lost saturation.

Jay sat on the edge of his bunk, the familiar creak of the mattress barely registering. In his lap was the hoodie you used to steal, fabric worn soft from being claimed as yours. Beside him lay a pillow he’d taken from the apartment, still holding the faintest trace of you.

He’d tried washing one of your shirts once.

The scent disappeared too fast.

He never made that mistake again.

It had been over a month.

He still paid the rent on the apartment. Still transferred the money on time, every time. But he hadn’t gone back —not once. The thought of stepping inside felt unbearable. Every room existed in his mind as it was the last time he saw it: untouched, suspended, full of echoes he couldn’t face.

The guys didn’t mention you.

Not directly.

They spoke carefully, like your name was something fragile, something that might break him if handled wrong. And maybe it would have. But Jay wasn’t angry. He couldn’t be. Anger required direction.

What he felt was hollow.

He knew he’d missed something. More than one thing. He’d been so wrapped up in finally letting himself be happy that he hadn’t noticed the cracks forming around him. The way your voice tightened around his members. The way your smile stayed polite instead of warm. How your laugh that night never quite reached your eyes.

He should have known.

Every day, he checked his phone too often. Every vibration made his heart jolt before reason caught up. But it was never you. No texts. No calls. Nothing to explain the silence.

At night, he played guitar quietly, careful not to wake anyone. He’d started writing again —lyrics that weren’t meant for stages or albums. Just fragments. Lines about the way you used to curl into his side. About the empty space you left behind.

Sometimes he dreamed of you coming back, standing in the doorway with that familiar smile, teasing him for losing his keys again.

Other nights, he stayed awake until dawn, staring at the ceiling, replaying the moment he realized you were gone.

He didn’t know where you were. He didn’t know how to fix what he’d broken.

But every day, without fail, Jay still waited.

Just in case you came back.

----------------------------------

Jay came back from practice exhausted, sweat clinging to his skin, limbs heavy, head still pounding from a full day of pretending he was fine.

The dorm was unusually quiet. Most of the guys were still out or or haven’t left their rooms yet. He barely registered it as he pushed open the door to his shared room —until he stopped short.

Something was wrong.

His bed was… neat. Not the way he left it.

The blanket was tucked in, smooth in a way it never was. The sheets were freshly changed. His pillow —your pillow— sat fluffed at the head of the bed, perfectly arranged.

His stomach dropped.

“No,” he muttered, crossing the room in two quick steps. “No, no—”

He grabbed the pillow and pressed it to his face without thinking, breathing in desperately.

Nothing.

The warmth was gone. The faint scent that had lingered for weeks —yours— had been stripped away, replaced with clean cotton and lavender detergent. Sterile. Wrong.

His chest tightened. His breath came shallow, uneven.

“Jay?” Jake’s voice came from the doorway.

Jay turned sharply, eyes wild. “Did you do this?”

Jake froze. “Yeah—I mean, yeah. I thought it needed to be washed. It hadn’t been touched in weeks, and you’ve been looking wrecked, so I just… I thought I was helping.”

“You washed it?” Jay said, his voice cracking before he could stop it. “You washed her pillow?”

Jake took a cautious step forward. “Jay, I didn’t know—”

“That was the last thing I had that still really smelled like her,” Jay said quietly. Too quietly. “It was all I had left.”

The words hung there, heavy and unmoving.

Jake’s expression shifted, guilt settling in fast. “Shit. Jay… I’m sorry. I really didn’t know.”

Jay didn’t respond. He sat down hard on the edge of the bed, staring at the pillow in his hands like it had betrayed him.

“I didn’t even get to say goodbye,” he murmured.

Silence filled the room. Jake stayed near the door, unsure whether to leave or stay, the weight of it pressing in on both of them.

Jay hunched forward, the pillow still in his lap, his thumb tracing the seam absently, like muscle memory might bring something back.

Then, barely above a whisper, he said, “I bought her a ring.”

Jake looked up sharply. “You—wait. You were going to propose?”

Jay let out a hollow breath, shaking his head. “Not like that. Not… officially.” He swallowed. “We knew marriage wasn’t possible. Not publicly. Not like normal people.”

Jake didn’t interrupt.

“I just wanted her to have something real,” Jay continued, voice strained. “Something that meant I was serious. Even if no one else ever saw it.” His jaw tightened. “We joked about being married all the time—‘wifey,’ ‘hubby’—but I didn’t want it to just be a joke to her.”

He ran a hand through his hair, fingers trembling. “I was waiting. I thought after she met you guys—after everything went well—I’d give it to her.”

A bitter laugh slipped out. “I didn’t even notice how uncomfortable she was that night. I didn’t see it. I just kept smiling like an idiot, thinking it was the best night of my life.”

His voice dropped. “Meanwhile, she was already halfway gone.”

Jake finally moved, sitting beside him. “Why didn’t you tell us?”

Jay shrugged weakly, eyes glassy. “Because if it got out… if the company found out… I couldn’t let her become a secret someone else exposed. I couldn’t do that to her.”

He reached for the drawer beside the bed and pulled out a small velvet box. His hands hesitated before opening it.

Inside lay a simple gold band, a single diamond catching the light. Elegant. Unworn.

Jake stared. “She doesn’t know?”

Jay shook his head once. “She never even saw it.”

His voice broke on the last word.

Loud voices cut through the room before either of them could speak again.

A door slammed. Sneakers scraped hard against tile. Something hit the wall with a dull thud. The sound shattered the fragile quiet Jay and Jake had been sitting in, the room suddenly too small, too thick with unspoken pain.

Jay blinked and snapped the ring box shut on instinct. He didn’t put it away. The weight of it stayed pressed into his palm.

Jake stood first, already turning toward the door. “What the hell was that?”

Jay followed without answering.

They moved down the hallway, the voices growing sharper with every step. When they turned the corner into the main room, Heeseung stood near the front door, arms crossed, jaw tight.

Jungwon had just come in. His shoes were half off, hair damp from the humid night air, shoulders slumped with exhaustion. He didn’t look defensive.

He looked guilty.

“Are you serious right now?” Heeseung snapped. “It’s past midnight. You left without telling anyone. Do you know how dangerous that is?”

“I’m not a kid,” Jungwon muttered, eyes fixed on the floor.

“That’s not the point,” Heeseung shot back. “You disappear constantly lately. No texts. No location. Nothing.”

Jay stepped forward, his voice low. “What’s going on?”

Jungwon looked up, startled to see him. His gaze flicked between Jay and Jake, lingering a beat too long on Jay before dropping again.

Jake glanced between them. “You okay?”

Jungwon didn’t answer.

Jay’s chest tightened. Something felt wrong —more wrong than it already had. “Where were you?”

“I just needed air,” Jungwon said quietly.

The answer was too careful.

Jay narrowed his eyes. “That’s all?”

Silence.

Jungwon’s gaze lifted again, sharper this time —and then dropped.

To Jay’s hand.

The ring box.

Jay hadn’t even realized he was still holding it, thumb pressed into the velvet lid like it might disappear if he let go.

Jungwon’s breath caught.

Jake noticed too and stepped forward quickly. “Okay—let’s not do this right now. Everyone’s exhausted. We can—”

“What is that?” Jungwon asked, already knowing.

Jay lifted his eyes slowly. “It’s a ring.”

The room went dead quiet.

Heeseung looked between them, confused. Jake winced.

“For her?” Jungwon asked.

Jay nodded once.

“Jay,” Jake tried again, gentler. “You don’t have to—”

“Yes,” Jay cut in. “I do.”

He looked at all of them now —eyes tired, hollow, stripped bare. “I bought it before dinner. Before everything fell apart. She never knew. None of you did.” His voice faltered just slightly. “Because I didn’t trust anyone else to keep it safe.”

Jungwon dropped his gaze, guilt curling tight in his chest.

“I thought if she met you guys, it would finally feel right,” Jay continued. “Like the two best parts of my life could exist in the same room.”

He exhaled sharply. “I was wrong.”

No one spoke.

Jay turned toward the hallway, the ring box clenched hard in his hand. He needed air. Silence. Something that didn’t hurt this much.

He barely made it two steps.

“I know where she is.”

Jay froze.

The words were quiet, almost gentle —but they split the air cleanly in two.

Slowly, Jay turned back.

Jake tensed. Heeseung went still.

“What?” Jay asked. His voice was flat. Dangerous.

Jungwon met his gaze. “I know where Y/N’s been staying.”

Jay’s grip tightened. “How long?”

“A little over a week,” Jungwon admitted. “I ran into her. By accident.”

Jake dragged a hand down his face. “Jesus.”

“And you didn’t tell me,” Jay said.

“I didn’t know if I should,” Jungwon replied. “She didn’t want to see you. She didn’t even want to talk about you.”

Jay took a step forward. “You lied to me.”

“I didn’t,” Jungwon said steadily. “I kept it quiet. She was hurting, hyung. And I was part of why. I didn’t want to make it worse.”

Jay’s breath came fast. “You’ve been seeing her.”

“I wanted to make sure she was okay.”

“And is she?”

Jungwon didn’t answer.

Jay’s voice broke. “You don’t get it. I lost the only person that mattered. And you knew.”

“I know,” Jungwon said softly. “That’s why I’m telling you now. She’s not okay. But neither are you.”

Jay laughed once —short, hollow. “So what? You sneak out every night to see my girlfriend?”

“It’s not like that.”

“Then what is it?” Jay snapped. “You know where she is. You talk to her. You’re the one she trusts now—not me.”

Jungwon didn’t raise his voice. “She didn’t choose me over you. She needed space.”

“Then why keep going back?”

“Because she’s hurting,” Jungwon said quietly. “And because after I understood her… I realized you needed to understand too.”

Jay shook his head. “I don’t need—”

“Tomorrow,” Jungwon interrupted. “Go tomorrow. I was supposed to meet her. You should go instead.”

Jay stared at him. Raw. Unsteady. “She won’t want to see me.”

“She will.”

Jay looked down at the ring box, knuckles white around it.

“She still loves you,” Jungwon added, gentler now. “She just thinks she’s the problem.”

Jay didn’t respond.

He stood there, the weight of everything pressing in —grief, anger, longing —all of it tangled around a small velvet box in his hand.

And for the first time in weeks, hope hurts worse than the silence.

----------------------------------

You go to the park the same way you always do.

Same path. Same bench beneath the crooked tree with the peeling bark. Same time of night, when the air is still cold and the city is sleeping.

You sit, hands folded in your lap, eyes drifting across the walking trail.

The park is almost empty at night, but that doesn’t make you feel safer.

Streetlights cast uneven pools of yellow across the paths, and every passing car makes your shoulders tense. You sit on the familiar bench anyway, hands tucked into your sleeves, eyes flicking toward the entrance every few seconds.

Jungwon is late.

He’s never late.

Your stomach twists. You tell yourself not to read into it, not to spiral—but the quiet feels heavier tonight, like something is about to break.

Then you sense him.

Not footsteps. Not movement. Just that pull you’ve never been able to explain.

You look up.

Jay stands half-hidden beneath a tree near the edge of the park, hood pulled low, mask on, hands shoved deep into his pockets. He hasn’t stepped into the light. He’s watching you like he’s afraid you might disappear again if he blinks.

Your breath catches.

“No,” you whisper.

You stand immediately, heart racing —not because he’s here, but because someone else could be. Because this is exactly how things go wrong.

You cross the distance quickly, keeping your voice low and tight. “What are you doing here? You can’t —Jay, this is insane.”

“I know,” he says quietly. “I wouldn’t have come if I wasn’t sure.”

“That doesn’t matter,” you hiss. “One person. One phone. That’s all it takes.”

He steps closer, careful. “I missed you.”

Your chest aches at how small his voice sounds.

“That’s not a good enough reason,” you say, even as your hands curl into fists to keep from reaching for him. “You have too much to lose.”

“I already lost you.”

“That’s different,” you say immediately. “I chose to leave. Your career didn’t.”

Jay exhales, slow and shaky. “Do you really think loving you was ever a risk I regretted?”

You shake your head, blinking hard. “I love you too much to let you ruin your life for me.”

The words hurt both of you. You can see it on his face.

You take a step back, forcing space between you. “We shouldn’t be standing this close.”

He doesn’t move. “I didn’t come to pull you back into something you’re not ready for.”

You look at him again, surprised.

“I came to ask for a redo,” he continues. “That night. Meeting everyone. I failed you. I was so focused on how happy I was that I didn’t see how scared you were.”

Your throat tightens.

“I want another chance,” he says. “But this time, I promise I won’t let you disappear beside me. I’ll see you. I’ll protect you.”

You shake your head instinctively. “Jay… that’s dangerous.”

“I know.”

“You can’t promise things like that.”

“I can promise to try,” he says. “And if I can’t do it right, I won’t do it at all.”

Silence stretches between you, filled with the hum of the city and the distant sound of traffic.

“I shouldn’t,” you whisper finally.

His shoulders drop, just slightly. “Okay.”

The disappointment in that single word hurts more than anything else.

You step forward before you can stop yourself, fingers brushing his sleeve. “I didn’t say no.”

He looks up, eyes wide in the dim light.

“One redo,” you say softly. “That’s it.”

Jay lets out a breath, almost a laugh, almost a sob. “I swear I won’t waste it.”

You glance around the park again, anxiety spiking. “You need to go. Now.”

“I will,” he says quickly. “I just—”

You step closer, heart pounding, and press a brief kiss to his cheek. It’s soft, familiar, and far too intimate for how dangerous this moment is.

“For your walk home,” you whisper.

You pull away immediately and walk back toward the path, not daring to look back.

Behind you, Jay stays where he is, fingers lifting to his cheek like he needs to remind himself it was real.

You don’t breathe properly until you’re back inside Chae’s apartment.

The door clicks shut behind you, locks sliding into place, and only then do your shoulders finally sag. Your heart is still racing, hands trembling slightly as you slip off your shoes and pad down the hallway. Chae’s bedroom door is closed, the apartment dark and still.

Safe.

You sit on the edge of the guest coach, phone resting in your palm like it weighs too much.

You stare at the screen for a long moment.

Then, before you can overthink it, you type.

I made it back.

You hesitate, then add:

Please be careful getting home.

You hit send and immediately regret how fast your heart jumps afterward.

Jay is still awake. He’s lying on his bunk, phone face-down on his chest, staring at the ceiling like sleep might eventually take pity on him. His mind is still in the park —your voice, the kiss, the way you walked away without looking back.

The vibration against his chest makes him freeze.

He grabs his phone so fast it almost slips from his hand.

Your name.

For a second, he just stares at the screen to make sure he’s not imagining it.

Then he sits up abruptly.

I’m home.

He types, deletes, types again.

Thank you for texting me.

Too much? He exhales and keeps going.

I couldn’t stop worrying.

There’s a pause. Thirty seconds that feel like thirty minutes.

Then his phone buzzes again.

I know. I was worried too.

Jay smiles without realizing it.

Really smiles.

His fingers move before his nerves can catch up.

We’re off this Thursday.

He hesitates, heart pounding, then sends the next message anyway.

If you want… you could come by the dorm.

Another pause.

Jay presses his thumb against the screen, trying not to spiral. He’s already bracing himself for a polite excuse, a careful boundary.

Then—

I’ll think about it.

It’s not a yes.

But it’s not a no.

Jay exhales, leaning back against the wall, phone clutched tight in his hand.

That’s enough for me.

He adds, softer:

I’m really glad you’re safe.

On the other side of the city, you lie back on the bed, staring at the ceiling, phone resting on your chest.

You close your eyes.

For the first time in weeks, the quiet doesn’t feel so lonely.

----------------------------------

Thursday comes faster than you expect.

You stand outside the dorm longer than necessary, hands tucked into your sleeves like you might still turn around if you wait long enough.

You’re just about to knock when voices leak through the door.

Loud. Chaotic.

“I swear to God, if anyone touches the food before she gets here, I will actually kill you.”

Jay.

You freeze, then smile before you can stop yourself.

“There is no way you’re threatening murder over some food,” someone laughs —Jake, you think.

“I’m serious,” Jay snaps. “It has to be perfect. The plates, the drinks—why is that cup there? Who put that there?”

“It’s a cup, hyung,” Sunoo says, amused. “Relax.”

“I cannot relax,” Jay says loudly. “This is important.”

“Bro’s pacing like it's life or death,” Ni-ki adds, followed by more laughter.

You let out a quiet breath, something warm loosening in your chest.

These are the people Jungwon talked about. The ones who bicker and tease and show up loudly for each other. Not the tense, guarded strangers you met that night. Not the silence.

You lift your hand and knock —soft, almost hesitant.

The noise inside stumbles to a stop.

Footsteps approach. The door opens, and Jungwon’s face appears, eyes widening slightly when he sees you.

“Oh—hey,” he says, voice gentle. “You made it.”

You nod, suddenly shy. “Yeah.”

Before he can say anything else, there’s a rush of movement behind him.

“Move.”

Jungwon barely has time to step aside before Jay pushes past him, hands already on the door, eyes locking onto you like the rest of the world just shut off.

“You’re here,” he says, breathless.

You smile, small but real. “Hi.”

For a second, he just stares at you, like he’s confirming you’re real. Then he steps back abruptly, glancing over his shoulder.

“Shoes off—no, wait—actually, yeah, shoes off. I mean—come in. Please. You’re—yeah.”

Someone snorts behind him.

“Hyung, breathe,” Jake mutters.

Jay shoots him a look without taking his eyes off you. “Don’t start.”

You step inside, the door closing softly behind you.

Jay hovers, clearly unsure what to do with his hands.

“I, uh,” he starts, then stops. “Are you okay? Did you—was it hard getting here?”

“I’m fine,” you say quickly. “Really.”

He nods, still searching your face. “Okay. Okay.”

Jungwon watches the two of you for a moment, then quietly clears his throat. “I’ll—uh—give you guys a second.”

Jay barely registers it.

You glance around the room again, hearing laughter from down the hall, the clatter of dishes, someone arguing about music volume. It feels… normal. Alive.

You look back at Jay. “This is the side of you he told me about.”

Jay blinks. “What?”

You smile a little wider. “The loud one. The one who cares too much and pretends he doesn’t.”

His ears turn red instantly.

“Oh,” he mutters. Then, softer, “I’m really glad you came.”

You nod. “Me too."

The tension you carried in with you slowly fades as the night settles.

It starts small. Sunoo handing you a drink and immediately asking if you like mint chocolate ice cream. Jake insisting you sit because “Jay’s been pacing for hours and someone needs to ground him.” Heeseung hovering just enough to make sure everything’s okay, but not pushing.

Jay stays close without smothering. Always half a step behind you, like he’s ready to step in but doesn’t want to crowd you. You notice it. You don’t comment.

Dinner turns loud fast.

Ni-ki complains about the portions. Jay snaps back that he cooked and therefore decides who starves. Someone puts music on too loud. Someone else argues about it. You find yourself laughing before you realize you are.

It feels… easy.

At some point, Ni-ki eyes you over the table, grin sharp and mischievous. “So,” he says, dragging the word out, “you’re the reason Jay turns into a domestic menace.”

Jay straightens immediately. “Hey—”

You beat him to it.

“Oh, absolutely,” you say, unfazed. “I trained him. He didn’t even know how to properly wash rice before me.”

Ni-ki bursts out laughing. “No way.”

Jay sputters. “I knew how.”

“And you flooded the kitchen,” you add calmly.

The table erupts.

Jay opens his mouth, ready to defend himself —or you, it’s unclear—but stops when he sees you smiling, eyes bright, completely unbothered.

Ni-ki points at him. “She’s scary.”

You lean back in your chair. “You’re welcome to challenge me, but I don’t recommend it.”

“Hyung,” Ni-ki says, still laughing, “how do you survive?”

Jay just watches you, something soft settling in his chest. “I don’t,” he says quietly. “I just accept my fate.”

You glance at him, amused. “Drama queen.”

He smiles to himself, small and private, like he’s storing the moment away.

Later, when the plates are cleared and someone suggests games, Jungwon sits near you, noticeably more relaxed than before. He listens as you talk, nods along, fills in details when needed. The awkward edge from before is gone.

At one point, Jay goes to grab more drinks, and Sunoo leans toward you conspiratorially. “He’s been like this all week, you know.”

“Like what?”

“Cleaning. Stressing. Threatening violence over anything.”

You laugh. “That tracks.”

Jay returns just in time to hear Sunoo say, “We like you.”

Jay freezes. “You do?”

Sunooi shrugs. “Yeah. You make him less annoying.”

“Rude,” Jay mutters.

You smile, warmth spreading through you. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

As the night winds down, Jay finds himself standing a little apart, watching you laugh with his members, watching how naturally you fit into the noise.

Not forcing. Not fading.

Just there.

And for the first time in a long while, the tight knot in his chest loosens.

By the time the board games come out, the night has fully settled into something comfortable.

You’re cross-legged on the floor between Sunoo and Jake, surrounded by scattered cards and pieces, laughter coming easier now. Someone keeps changing the rules mid-game. Someone else keeps cheating badly enough that it’s obvious.

Ni-ki, obviously.

“That’s not how you play,” you tell him flatly, taking the card out of his hand.

“It worked though,” he argues.

“That doesn’t make it legal.”

Jay laughs from across the room, leaning back on his hands. “See? She’s on my side.”

Sunghoon snorts. “You say that like it’s rare.”

Heeseung watches the chaos for a moment, then stands. “Okay,” he says, stretching. “We’re switching gears.”

He disappears briefly and comes back with a couple bottles and cups. Nothing wild. Just enough.

“To relax,” he says simply, setting everything down.

The energy shifts —still light, but slower. Softer.

Jay’s laughter fades just a little.

You don’t notice at first when he stands. He does it quietly, slipping toward the hallway like he doesn’t want to draw attention.

Jungwon notices.

Jay murmurs something under his breath —an excuse about grabbing something— and disappears into his room.

You’re distracted anyway.

Jake pours drinks, handing you one carefully. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

You smile. “I’m good. Thank you.”

Ni-ki squints at you. “You’re surprisingly normal.”

You raise an eyebrow. “What does that mean?”

“I don’t know,” he shrugs. “Jay made you sound intimidating.”

Jay’s room door clicks softly down the hall.

You laugh. “He’s dramatic.”

Sunoo grins. “We know.”

Conversation drifts easily after that. Stories from trainee days. Dumb arguments. Inside jokes they pause to explain for your sake. You listen, ask questions, fill in where you can.

Sunghoon sits nearby, quieter than the others but relaxed, watching the way you fit without effort.

“You’re good for him,” Jake says suddenly, not even looking at you.

You blink. “What?”

He shrugs. “He’s happier when you’re around.”

The words land heavier than you expect.

Before you can respond, footsteps sound down the hallway.

Jay reappears.

He looks… different.

Not obvious enough that anyone else would notice, but you do. His shoulders are a little tense. His jaw set like he’s bracing himself for something. One hand disappears briefly into his pocket before he sits back down beside you.

“Everything okay?” you ask quietly.

He nods. “Yeah.” But his knee bounces.

You don’t push. You just stay close, your arm brushing his, grounding him in the noise and warmth of the room. He glances at you once, eyes soft.

The night continues around you, laughter rising and falling, the game resuming like nothing shifted.

But something has.

And Jay knows it.

----------------------------------

Jay tries to talk to you. He really does.

Every time he leans toward you, someone appears.

“Hey, have you tried this card combo?” Jake asks, shoving cards between you.

Jay opens his mouth— “Hyung, you’re sitting on my phone,” Ni-ki says, crawling halfway across the floor.

Jay exhales, nods, waits.

You meet his eyes again—

Sunoo plops down beside you. “Okay but settle this. Pineapple on pizza.”

Jay closes his eyes.

He shifts closer again— Heeseung asks him something about tomorrow’s schedule.

By the fourth interruption, Jay’s jaw is tight, leg bouncing, hand flexing like he’s holding himself back.

You notice.

“Jay?” you murmur.

He huffs out a breath, stands abruptly. “I need a drink.”

It’s not angry, exactly —but it’s close.

He heads for the kitchen, shoulders stiff. You hesitate only a second before standing and following him.

The dorm kitchen is dimmer, quieter. Just the low hum of the fridge and the faint noise of laughter drifting from the living room.

Jay grabs a bottle, twists the cap off with more force than necessary.

“Sorry,” he mutters without looking at you. “I’m not mad at you. I just—”

“I know,” you say softly.

That makes him stop.

He turns, really turns, and for a second the words look like they’re choking him.

“This might be the only time tonight I get you alone,” he says quietly. “So I’m just gonna say it. Okay?”

Your heart starts racing. “Jay—”

“I love you,” he says immediately. No hesitation. No buffer. “I’ve loved you since before I knew how dangerous it was. And I don’t care.”

You shake your head, panic blooming. “You can’t say things like that—”

“I would risk everything,” he continues, voice shaking now. “My career. My image. My life as I know it —if it meant I got to be with you honestly.”

Your chest tightens. “Jay, stop, you’re scaring me—”

He steps closer. “I’m not asking you to ruin anything. I know we can’t have the real thing. Not yet. Maybe not ever the way people expect.”

He reaches into his pocket.

Your breath catches. “Jay—”

“I know,” he says quickly when he sees your eyes widen, your body tense. “I know. Just—listen. Please.”

He pulls out a small velvet box.

“I don’t want a big moment. I don’t want pressure. I just want you to have something that proves this wasn’t a secret to me. That you weren’t something temporary.”

Your hands shake. “Jay…”

“I need a better reason to call you wifey,’” he says softly, almost smiling through the nerves. “Something real. Something that says I chose you. That I’m choosing you.”

Then, slowly, deliberately, he lowers himself to one knee on the kitchen tile.

Your breath leaves you in a soundless rush.

“This isn’t a proposal,” he says. “It’s a promise. That I see you. That I won’t miss you again. That no matter how hard this gets —I’m yours.”

He opens the box.

The ring catches the low light, simple and perfect.

“Will you let me give you this?” he asks. “Will you be my wifey… for real?”

You’re crying before you can stop yourself.

“Yes,” you breathe, then louder, breaking, “Yes.”

Jay laughs —a shaky, relieved sound— and stands just long enough to slide the ring onto your finger before you surge forward, grabbing his face and kissing him hard.

It’s desperate. Joyful. Real.

Somewhere behind you—

“OH MY GOD.”

You break apart just as the kitchen fills.

Jake, Sunoo, Ni-ki, Heeseung, Sunghoon, and Jungwon—all crowded in the doorway, clearly having been watching for longer than they should’ve.

Jungwon grins. “We said don’t interrupt him again.”

Jay groans, burying his face in your shoulder. “You all are dead.”

You laugh through your tears, holding him tight, ring warm against your skin.

For once, the secret doesn’t feel so heavy.

For once, it feels like a promise kept.

-permeant taglist- enhypen: @naqkja @rikismura @nocturnebite @sunooselle @staarflowerr @luvteyamm @opiumhee @kristynaaah @ancnymcnzjy @b3lly-we1lyy1009 @gojoslittlecumbucket @aliceskzfan @candidupped @livie23 @in-somnias-world @fialtorelle @osmoisiss @inlovewithparkjisung @st4rg1rlies @kpoplover667 @kireistrawberryjayla @yatta-exe @jaerisdiction @enhalxvr @ah-2212 @sa1ky @mariaelizabeth21-blog1 @c9b7luv @twinklingsparkling @levisswaifuu @why-th0 @hellkithy @parkedsunghoon1009 @wooohh1324 @heavnrth @bangtanniesimjaeyun @vtyb23 general: @chenlesfeetpic @haolovre @vampgege @yuyita-rosier @page0brooklyn @walkintoclouds @zealouscookierebeltrash @multifandom-messsss @enhacolor @dana-nite

What on earth are you doing as you please?

Did you come into my heart?

I can't get it out. I'm going to close that door now (can't get out)

Even though the environment was suddenly so new and different for her, she found herself adjusting because of how professional she was and because of you. Over time, she was getting well together with the members and developed a special bond with you that the fans adored. "Wonyoungie looks really pretty today..." Rei beams at the camera filming the behind the scenes of an award show the group attended, Wonyoung smiles down at her, gently playing with a strand of her hair. She opens her mouth to thank and compliment her back but her eyes fall on you, playing around with Leeseo behind the camera and blurts out, "I think Y/n looks the prettiest today..." The shorter one immediately makes a face, giving a side eye to the camera before the video cuts.

@Wony/ntruther : DID YOU GUYS SEE THAT. DID YOU JUST SEE THAT. I ALWAYS WIN.

@livesbiann : Oh that was soooo random she's down badd for her😭😭😭

@gaeulfalls : REI'S FACE IS KILLING ME😭

@theonlydive : Confused if I want to be wonyoung or Y/n🤔

❤︎

You had looked up to Wonyoung ever since you became her fan, she was your biggest inspiration during your trainee days, you often compared yourself to her, "Would Wonyoung give up this easily?" "How would Wonyoung style this skirt?" Sometimes, you even felt jealous of her but what you didn't understand was the way your heart would flutter when she would wink at the camera, when you started wondering how it would feel like to hold hands with her when you would see her holding hands with her former members in videos. You thought you were weird for having such thoughts because why would you even think of her like that? She's not a guy, After all you have such feelings for a guy and not a girl...right?

Just being in the same company as Wonyoung made you the happiest girl in the world but to debut with her? You dreamed of it and here you were one day, meeting her as a member of your group. You had cried when the company told you that you were debuting but you bawled your eyes out when you found out THE Jang Wonyoung was going to be your bandmate. It was a dream come true for you.

❤︎

"What's going on between you and Y/n?" Wonyoung stops scrolling through her phone at Yujin's sudden question, she stays silent for a while keeping her phone aside with a sigh before speaking, "Honestly? I don't know..I have never felt like this before, whenever I look at her, my heart aches in this weird way, I feel happy and I feel protective of her, it hurts me when the staff yells at her, even when she stubbs her toe on the sofa's edge because she's so clumsy-" "Woah woah...easy there lover girl" Yujin chuckles "You're in love" Wonyoung's head turns to her at light speed at the declaration, her lips parted in an 'o' and her eyes slightly wide. "You think so?" Yujin quiets down, looking away before she looks back at her with a smile that doesn't quite reach her eyes, "Trust me, I know." Wonyoung sighs for the umpteenth time, her head falling back against the glass mirror, "What if she doesn't like girls?" Yujin falls silent at that, humming softly, "That...is a concern actually, you remember when we passed by Jungkook sunbaenim that day? She was fawning over him, and didn't she also mention he was her ideal type during the inter..." She trails off when she sees wonyoung face, "Hey...I'm sorry I didn't mean to hurt you" Wonyoung scoots over to her without a word, leaning her head on Yujin's shoulder, the elder gently wraps her arm around her shoulder as she comforts her, ignoring how her own heart aches, ignoring how she can feel her shirt getting wet from tears, and also ignoring you who's standing in the doorway, watching them before rushing away and maybe, just maybe it was selfish of her to not tell wonyoung anything about that.

❤︎

No, no doubt in my mind, you are definitely special in my heart

Making you mine, making you mine, the perfect you

Making you mine, making you mine, I want it

Wonyoung noticed as you distanced yourself, you would stick to Rei more now as you used to, it's normal right? Maybe she's the one who's so busy with her solo schedules it feels as if you're distant, but she knew it wasn't true. Her heart ached everytime you sat next to anyone but her in the car on the way to work, everytime you sticked close to anyone but her, everytime you smiled at everyone but her. Did she do something? Did she say something wrong? Did you find out that she likes you? After a schedule Wonyoung decided she was done, she needed to talk to you, apologise if she said or did something wrong. "I'm going to tell her." Yujin's eyes widen slightly, she keeps her phone aside on the table and turns to Wonyoung, grabbing onto her arm. "Wonyoung..look, this isn't the right time to talk, the staff or anyone! could hear you and-" Wonyoung stands up abruptly, shaking her head "I don't care, I need to tell her, I need to let her know..." Something in her sincerity makes Yujin let go of her hand, as if she realised something, "She's in there.." she mumbles softly, starting at her own hands on her lap. A soft smile forms on Wonyoung's face as she rushes out towards the room yujin showed her.

You jump at the sudden knock on the door which pulls you out of your thoughts. "It's open!" Your smile fades a little when your eyes meet Wonyoung's through the mirror as she enters, closing the door softly behind her. "You..changed?" She asks awkwardly, pointing at your clothes and you look at yourself, "Oh yeah! Yeah I did.." The room is back to awkward silence, you watch her look around and do the same. "Y/n? are you upset with me?" She asks softly, so softly, it makes your heart ache. "What? No! Why would I- Why would I be upset with you?" She shakes her head, exhaling heavily before she moves closer.

Don't you know, you're definitely special in my heart

Lock in my mind, lock in my mind, little by little you

Lock in my mind, lock in my mind, I will have it

"I like you Y/n." You think the air gets knocked out of your lungs at that, you stop breathing, paused in your place while you process her words. "Y/n?" You snap out of your trance, taking a deep breath as if suddenly remembering how to breathe, you don't turn to look at her, you don't dare to. "I'm sorry I-I think I heard you wrong" "No you didn't Y/n, I said I like you" she says it firmly this time, with more confidence. "Unnie.." You trail off, but she continues before you can complete. "No Y/n it's okay, I just needed to let you know I swear it wasn't my intention to make you upset, I just don't know, I like you a lot but you don't have to say anything! I was-" "I like you too!" You exclaim, half in nervousness, half in anticipation. You finally turn around to look up at her, her eyes widen and she gasps softly, "What? Why did you never tell me?" You look down at your feet, your voice quieter, "I saw you with Yujin unnie that day at the practice room, I thought.." "That we were together?" You nod softly and she steps closer again, this time lifting your chin up with her fingers to look at you before her warm hands cup your face, "Oh Y/n..I only like you even then, I was telling Yujin about how much I liked you, how badly I wanted to tell you about how i feel.." The way she looked into your eyes, with so much love and sincerity made you want to cry. "Wonyoung unnie.." She smiles softly, leaning in "Can I?" You nod in a yes, not trusting your own voice at the moment. You can feel her smiling when her lips meet yours, the kiss is so soft, full of love and adoration, the two of you a bit breathless when you pull back, bursting out in giggles, "Hi..." "...Hello" you remember something, looking around, "Unnie, what if there are cameras here?" Your now girlfriend gives you a silly smile, "Then I'd like to take the recording home with me."

ping!

(notification!)

[@wonyzzz pics : "wony/nz selca!"]

@Wony/ntruther: THEY'RE GETTING MARRIED IT'S CONFIRMED AND I'M THE BRIDESMAID

Making you mine, making you mine, I will have it ❤︎

❤︎

꒰ ✉︎ ꒱ : im afraid im experiencing writers block because half the things i wrote in this fic don't even make sense to me? it's a bit rushed so forgive me pls this has been in my drafts ever since i started my account that's how long it's been and i finally completed it now, but hopefully if the heaven's on my side you'll like my first ever ive fic♥️

pictures / dividers used are from pinterest!

likes and reblogs are appreciated a lot if you liked the fic!❤︎ reply if you

want to be added to my perm taglist for IVE!

Jay grinned mischievously. "A spontaneous date. Thought we could escape reality for a while." "You really went all out," you teased, but warmth bloomed in your chest at the effort he'd put in.

Settling onto the blanket, you gazed out at the horizon. The colors of the sunset reflected on the shimmering waves, creating a breathtaking scene. Jay leaned back on his hands, eyes focused on you instead of the view. "You look beautiful," he murmured. Heat rose to your cheeks. "You flatter me too much." "I mean it," he insisted, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. "I love seeing you happy."

Your heart swelled at his words, and for a moment, you could only gaze at him, overwhelmed by the sincerity in his eyes. The vulnerability between you was palpable, but Jay never shied away from it.

As the conversation flowed effortlessly, you shared stories and laughed until your sides hurt. Jay's warmth and presence made the world fade away, leaving only the two of you in this perfect bubble.

"Hey," Jay said after a while, breaking the comfortable silence. "Do you remember our first date?" You chuckled. "How could I forget? You spilled soda all over your shirt, and I was too polite to laugh at you."

Jay groaned, burying his face in his hands. "Don't remind me. That was so embarrassing. I thought I ruined everything." "You didn't," you assured him, nudging his shoulder. "It was actually kind of cute."

He peeked at you through his fingers, eyes glinting with amusement. "So you're saying I should spill soda on myself more often?" "Please don't," you laughed. "But it definitely made the date memorable." Jay's expression softened. "Every moment with you is memorable."

The sincerity in his voice caught you off guard. You swallowed the lump forming in your throat and looked down at your intertwined hands. The music playing from the speaker faded into the background as Jay's thumb brushed gently over your knuckles.

"Can I say something?" he asked quietly. You nodded, meeting his gaze.

"Being with you feels like home" he confessed. "I've never felt this way about anyone before, and it honestly scares me a little. But I know that I don't want to be anywhere else but here, with you."

Emotion surged through you, and tears prickled at the corners of your eyes. Jay had always been thoughtful and affectionate, but this confession touched a part of your heart you'd kept guarded.

"I feel the same way," you whispered. "You make me feel safe and cherished." Jay's breath hitched, and without hesitation, he cupped your face, his touch gentle yet firm. "Can I kiss you?" Your response was immediate. "Yeah"

His lips met yours in a kiss that was both tender and intense. The world faded into the background as you melted into him. Jay's hand slid to the back of your neck, holding you close as he poured all his emotions into the kiss.

When you finally pulled apart, breathless, Jay rested his forehead against yours. "You're incredible," he whispered. You smiled, brushing your thumb over his cheek.

The sun had dipped below the horizon by the time you both settled back onto the blanket, content to watch the stars emerge. Jay's arm wrapped around your shoulders, pulling you close.

"This is perfect," you sighed. "It really is," Jay agreed. "Thank you for being you." You tilted your head to look at him. "And thank you for being you."

As the night deepened, Jay pulled out a small portable light from the basket and set it up, casting a warm glow around you. He opened a box of snacks and offered you a piece of chocolate.

"Sweet for my sweet," he said playfully. You rolled your eyes but took the chocolate anyway. "You're cheesy." "And you love it," he teased, nudging you playfully.

As the stars twinkled above and the sound of the ocean filled the air, you realized that moments like these were what made life beautiful. With Jay by your side, everything felt right.

The night ended with you lying in his arms, your fingers tracing random patterns on his chest as he hummed softly.

"Let's do this more often" Jay suggested. "What, spontaneous beach dates?" you asked with a smile.

"Yeah" he nodded. "But more importantly, spending time together. Just us, no distractions." "I'd love that," you agreed. Jay pressed a kiss to your forehead. "Good. Because you're stuck with me now."

You laughed, snuggling closer to him. "I wouldn't have it any other way."