Lala’s Corner

That change… finally became visible. Not something big, not something that instantly turned everything warm—but clear enough for you to notice without having to look for it.

Min Yoongi started to… smile. Not often. Not wide. But enough. And every time it appeared, you couldn’t deny one thing—it was sweet. Too contrasting with all the coldness he had shown all this time.

And that was exactly what made you more uneasy. Because a change like that… is never simple.

That morning, as usual, you stood in the kitchen. Cutting ingredients, adjusting the heat, tasting the food with full focus like you always did.

But today… you weren’t alone. Yoongi sat in the living room. Not just passing by. Not just showing up briefly. He was really sitting there. Quiet. Watching.

You could feel his gaze even without looking directly. You held on for a few minutes. Trying to focus. Trying to ignore it. But eventually, you gave in.

“What are you doing there?”

You glanced over slightly, brows furrowed.

“Usually you come down when the food is ready.”

Yoongi didn’t answer right away. He leaned back casually, his eyes still on you. “Just felt like it.”

That answer was light. Too light.

You let out a soft sigh. “It’s distracting.”

Not harsh. But honestly. He instead… smiled a little. “Then don’t look.”

You went quiet for a moment. Then retur to your cooking. But now… you were aware. Every movement you made was being watched. And that… made you uncomfortable. Not because you were scared. But because you knew—if this continued, the boundaries you kept… could slowly disappear.

In the following days, the pattern kept repeating. You came. Cooked. And Yoongi… was already there. Sometimes sitting. Sometimes standing near the kitchen. Sometimes pretending to be busy with his phone, but clearly his eyes kept drifting back to you.

And you—remained the same. Professional. Neutral. Keeping your distance. Even though inside… you were starting to feel something you couldn’t ignore.

Meanwhile, outside the house—Yoongi’s life started moving again. BTS was preparing for a comeback. Practice schedules became packed. Studio, meetings, choreography rehearsals, recordings—everything filled his days again.

And there… that change also started to show.

“Hyung, why are you smiling to yourself?”

Taehyung’s voice came with a small laugh. Yoongi immediately looked away.

“I’m not.”

“Liar,” Jimin added, stepping closer. “You’ve been different lately.”

“Different how?” Yoongi stayed flat.

“More… alive?” Jimin shrugged.

Yoongi didn’t answer. But his hand had already picked up his phone. Checking the time. Once. Twice. Repeatedly.

“Hyung, do you have somewhere to be?” Namjoon asked from afar.

“No.”

“Then why do you keep checking the time?”

“Just because.”

But it wasn’t just because. Not at all. Because even when they finished practice and someone suggested—

“Let’s eat, we haven’t eaten since noon.”

Yoongi immediately answered without thinking. “I’m going home.”

“Hey, eat first,” Jimin said.

“No, I’ll eat at home.”

“You’ve been eating at home a lot lately,” Taehyung narrowed his eyes. “You’re usually the laziest.”

Yoongi just grabbed his jacket. “Someone cooks.”

The sentence slipped out just like that. And instantly made a few heads turn.

“Who?” Jimin asked, curious.

Yoongi paused for a moment. Then—“Someone.” Short. Cut off. Leaving no room to continue. And that only made them more suspicious.

Meanwhile, at home—you didn’t know any of that. You only knew one thing—minutes before he usually came back, everything was already prepared. And somehow—lately, the timing was always perfect. As if he was really paying attention.

The door opened. Yoongi walked in. His gaze immediately went to the kitchen. To you. And there was one small second—where his expression… changed. Lighter. Calmer.

“You’re done?”

“Yes.”

You still answered briefly. Not lingering. He sat. Ate. Without comments. Without criticism. And you stood there, like always—but now, you could feel something different. Not just from him. But from yourself too.

Because even though you kept telling yourself—this is just work. It shouldn’t be more. The truth was—the more days passed, the harder it became to pretend that everything… was still that simple.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁.

Those days went by… too quietly. But not a comfortable kind of quiet. More like a quiet that held something unfinished.

In Min Yoongi’s mind, your words kept looping—

We need to keep our distance. You don’t belong in my world.

He tried to ignore it. Really tried.

Went back to practice schedules, to the studio, to the routines that used to be his escape. But strangely, now even in the middle of all that… his thoughts kept returning home. To the kitchen. To you. To the little things he never used to think mattered. And the more he tried to hold back—the clearer it felt.

He couldn’t.

Not because he was stubborn. But because that feeling… was already there. And it didn’t leave. So he stopped fighting it. Not in a big way. Not with something that forced things immediately. But… slowly. Carefully. Like someone who didn’t want to ruin something he hadn’t even had yet.

At home, that change started to be felt. You were still the same. Still keeping your distance. Still speaking only when necessary. Still standing on the line you drew yourself.

But Yoongi—started getting closer. Not directly. Not obviously.

That day, you were cooking as usual when you felt someone standing near you. Closer than usual. You didn’t turn right away.

“What are you doing?”

“You can see it yourself,” you replied.

Your tone stayed flat. He didn’t leave. Just stood there. Watching. Seconds. Minutes.

“Are you tired?”

That question… was simple. But different. You paused for a moment. Slightly surprised.

“I’m fine.”

He nodded slightly. Didn’t push. Didn’t continue. But also… didn’t leave.

Another day, you almost dropped a bowl because your hand was a little slippery. Before you could react—his hand caught it first. Reflex. Fast. Close.

The distance between you… was too narrow for those few seconds. You immediately pulled your hand away.

“Yeah, thank you.”

Short. Stepping back again. Like always. But Yoongi didn’t say anything. Just watched. And realized—every time he moved closer, you always stepped back. And that… didn’t stop him. It made him more careful. Slower. More… consistent.

Another night, when you finished cleaning the kitchen and were about to leave—

“Have you eaten?”

You stopped. Turned. “Yes.”

“Liar.”

You frowned slightly.

“I saw you haven’t eaten.”

You went quiet for a moment. Not expecting him to notice that much. “I’ll eat at home.”

He didn’t answer immediately. Then—“Just take some here.”

You looked at him. “I’m paid to cook, not to eat.”

“Just take it.”

His tone wasn’t forcing. But didn’t leave room to refuse. You hesitated. A few seconds. Then finally… took a little. Not because you wanted to.

But because you… were tired of rejecting small things like this. And that—was a small mistake that started opening something bigger.

In the following days, things like that kept happening. Small. Almost invisible. But consistent.

He didn’t force conversations anymore. Didn’t look for big reasons. He just… was there. Near you. In a way you couldn’t reject without seeming excessive. And without realizing it—you started to… not always step back. Not always. Sometimes you stay. Sometimes you didn’t move away immediately. Sometimes you let the conversation last a little longer. And that was enough. To slowly change everything.

One afternoon, you were sitting for a bit after finishing cooking. Tang-ie was sleeping on your lap, the house quiet as usual. Yoongi sat across from you. Not speaking. Just watching.

“Why do you keep looking at me?” you finally asked.

He didn’t answer right away. A few seconds. Then—“Am I not allowed?”

You sighed softly. “You’re weird.”

He smiled a little. And again—that same smile. The one that made your chest… uneasy. Not because you didn’t like it. But because you knew—if you started liking it. And that was what you had been avoiding from the beginning.

“You said we should keep our distance,” he said softly.

You stiffened slightly. “Yes.”

“But you’re still here.”

That sentence… didn’t sound like an accusation. More like… a confession. You didn’t answer right away. Because you knew—he was right.

If you really wanted to keep your distance—you would have left from the start. But you didn’t. And that… was something you didn’t want to admit.

“You too,” you replied quietly.

He smiled faintly. And this time… no one responded. Just a different kind of silence. Closer. More honest. And for the first time—you felt something you had been holding back… starting to waver. Not because you were weak. But because he—was no longer pushing you. No longer hurting you. He just… stayed there. Slowly. Consistently. And somehow—that was much harder to fight.

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The weekend came, and for the first time in the past few weeks… the house in UN Village felt truly empty.

There were no small footsteps in the kitchen. No warm aroma of food that was usually there even before he truly realized he was hungry. No you.

Yoongi stood for quite a while in the living room, staring at the neat kitchen—too neat. Nothing was wrong, but that was exactly what felt strange. He opened the fridge. The ingredients were still there. But nothing felt… “ready.”

He closed it again. Let out a sigh. And for the first time, he truly realized—not just the food he had been waiting for every day.

That night, he sat on the sofa, phone in hand. The screen was open on a chat. Your name. He stared at it for quite a while. Typing. Deleting. Typing again.

Then finally—

Yoongi: What did you use… for what you cooked yesterday?

Sent. A few seconds. No reply. He frowned slightly.

A few minutes later—his phone vibrated.

You: Which one?

Your reply… short. Like always.

But enough to make the corner of his lips lift slightly.

Yoongi: The soup.

You: Oh. Just standard.

He stared at the screen. “Just standard” to you… but not to him.

He typed again.

Yoongi: How do you make it?

You paused for a few seconds when reading that. Honestly—it was strange. Not because of the question. But because of… who was asking. Min Yoongi. And he… texted you.

You let out a small sigh before replying.

You: You want to cook?

Yoongi: Maybe...

The answer was short. But you could imagine him sitting alone in that house, trying to… fill something empty.

And somehow—that made your chest feel a little warm. That night, your chat wasn’t long. But enough. Enough to make you realize—he was really… looking for you.

Saturday passed. And without you realizing, there was one person who was busier than usual—not in the studio. Not in practice. But on Instagram.

Yoongi opened your profile. Scrolling. Slowly. Not in a rush. Looking at simple photos—coffee, books, corners of a table, small things he had never thought about before. Then—your story appeared. You were sitting in a café, a cup of coffee in front of you, a book open. Simple. Calm. And somehow—he watched it until the end. Not once. Several times. As if that… was enough to make his Saturday feel a little better.

Sunday came. And he automatically opened Instagram again. Looking for the small circle at the top of the screen. Your name. Not there. He waited. A few hours. Still nothing. His brows began to furrow. Strange. This shouldn’t be a problem. But—it felt like… something was missing.

Finally, he opened the chat again. Without much thought—

Yoongi: Where are you?

Sent.

You, who were at home, reading a book as usual, saw that notification and… stopped. You stared at the screen for a few seconds. It still felt strange. Him. Who used to not even really acknowledge your existence—now… asking where you were.

You typed slowly.

You: At home

A few seconds. The reply came quickly.

Yoongi: Not going anywhere?

You smiled faintly.

You: No

Yoongi: Why didn’t you update?

You paused. Then let out a small sigh.

You: Why are you paying that much attention?

Silence on the screen for a few seconds. As if he just realized… he was too obvious. Then—

Yoongi: It’s nothing

Short. But you knew—that wasn’t “nothing.” You stared at the screen a little longer. And for the first time—you felt something… different. A feeling you had been trying to suppress from the beginning.

You were also starting to get used to his presence. To that routine. To the fact that every day… he was there. And now—two days without it—it actually felt different. Slightly. Subtle. But real. You took a slow breath. Typed again.

You: Have you eaten?

This time, you were the one asking. Yoongi looked at that message. And for a few seconds—he just stared. Then the corner of his lips lifted slightly.

Yoongi: Not yet

You closed your eyes briefly. As if trying to hold something back. But in the end—you still replied.

You: Don’t eat late.

Simple. Nothing more. Nothing less. But enough to make something inside him… feel warm again.

And in two different places—you both sat quietly with your phones. Trying to convince yourselves—that this was still within limits. Still safe. Still… just normal. When slowly—you both were starting to realize. Nothing was truly “normal” anymore.

Monday came faster than usual. Or maybe… it just felt different.

In the big house in UN Village, Min Yoongi was already awake earlier. There was no clear reason—no important schedule that morning. But he was already standing in the kitchen, opening the fridge, then closing it again.

Empty. Not because there was no food. But because you weren’t there yet. He glanced at the clock. Still too early.

He clicked his tongue softly, then sat on the sofa… but not really sitting calmly. His hand opened his phone several times, then locked it again. His foot moved slightly, restless without realizing it.

“Strange,” he muttered softly.

Even he realized it himself. He was waiting. And that wasn’t something usual for him. When the sound of the door finally came—he immediately turned.

You walked in as usual, taking off your shoes, unaware that someone had been watching you since the very first second.

“Morning.”

You greeted briefly. Yoongi stood up from the sofa, too quickly to look casual.

“Yeah… morning.”

You paused for a moment. Looked over. Something was different. His expression… lighter. And somehow—that made your heart feel a little uneasy too.

“You’re already here?” you asked.

“Yeah.”

“That’s rare.”

He shrugged. “Just woke up.”

An answer that… didn’t really explain anything.

You nodded slightly, then went straight to the kitchen like usual. But that day… you could feel something. That gaze. Again. And this time… clearer.

You tried to focus. Cutting ingredients. Adjusting the heat. But a few times you unconsciously grabbed the wrong spoon, or paused too long in one spot.

“What’s wrong with you?”

His voice suddenly close. You turned. He was already standing not far from you. Closer than usual.

“Nothing.”

“You grabbed the wrong salt.”

You immediately looked at your hand. True.

You clicked your tongue softly. “Yeah.”

He smiled a little. And that—made you even more unfocused.

“Don’t look,” you said softly.

He raised a brow. “Why?”

“It’s distracting.”

He chuckled softly. And that sound—rare. Warm.

“Now I want to look even more.”

You held your breath for a moment. Then returned to your cooking, trying to ignore the feeling that was starting to… become unstable.

That day passed quickly. And without realizing—the sky turned dark. Rain fell. At first softly. Then heavier.

The sound of water hitting the window was loud enough to make the house feel smaller… closer.

You stood near the door, looking outside. “It’s raining.”

“Yeah,” Yoongi replied from behind.

You sighed softly. “I’ll wait until it stops.”

A few minutes. It didn’t stop. It got heavier. You looked at the clock. It was already quite late.

“I’ll just go home,” you said finally, taking your bag.

Before you could open the door—Yoongi’s voice stopped you.

“Don’t.”

You turned.

“The rain’s too heavy.”

“I can—”

“I’ll drive you.”

Immediate. No pause.

You went quiet.

“No need,” you said quickly. “I can order—”

“No.”

His tone was firm. Not harsh. But clearly… not leaving room to refuse.

“I’ll drive you.”

You hesitated. A lot. But seeing the rain outside… and seeing his expression—you didn’t have many reasons left. Finally, you nodded slightly. “Okay…”

A few minutes later, you were already sitting in his car. And somehow—that felt far more nerve-wracking than it should have been.

The car interior was warm. Quiet. Only the sound of rain and the engine running softly. Yoongi drove with one hand, focused on the road. And you—you couldn’t help but notice.

The way his hand held the steering wheel. The way his jaw tightened slightly when concentrating. The way he occasionally glanced at the rearview mirror. Simple. But… handsome. Too handsome. Even though he was just wearing casual clothes. Your heartbeat became more irregular. You quickly turned your gaze to the window. The rain outside looked blurred. As if trying to calm yourself.

A few minutes passed. Silent. Until finally—

“Sorry.”

His voice was soft. You turned. He was still focused on the road. But his voice… serious. “For everything I’ve done.”

You didn’t answer immediately.

“The way I talked to you,” he continued. “The way I treated you.”

His hand tightened slightly on the wheel. “I know it wasn’t right.”

Silence. Only the sound of rain.

“I’m not asking you to answer now,” he continued softly. “I’m also not asking you to believe me right away.”

You looked at him. Quiet.

“But I’ll fix it,” he said. “Slowly.”

He took a breath. Still not looking at you.

“I’ll make you see it yourself… that I’m serious.”

That sentence—wasn’t big. Not dramatic. But precisely because of that—it felt more real. You looked down slightly. Your heart was still beating fast. Not because you were scared. Not just because you were awkward. But because… you were starting to believe him. A little. And that was the most dangerous part. Because you knew—if you started believing… you might not be able to keep your distance like before.

The car stopped in front of your house. The rain was still falling. You didn’t get out immediately. Just sat for a moment. Looking ahead. Then softly—

“Okay.”

That was all. A simple answer. But enough to make Yoongi finally turn to you. And in between the sound of rain—something had finally changed. Slowly. Surely. And this time—neither of you was really trying to hold it back anymore.

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That night should have ended… in the parking area in front of your house. It should have been after you got out of the car, after you said that soft “okay,” everything returned to normal. But it didn’t.

Because a few minutes after you got to your room—your phone vibrated. Min Yoongi’s name appeared on the screen. You stared at it for a few seconds. It still felt strange. Still unfamiliar. Then you opened it.

Yoongi: Are you in your room?

You immediately smiled a little. Simple. But… warm.

You: Yes

The reply came quickly.

Yoongi: Okay.

That was it. You thought it ended there. But a few seconds later—

Yoongi: Is it still raining?

You let out a small sigh. Strange. Not important. Especially since you were in the same city. Why ask about the same weather? But you still replied.

You: Yes

Yoongi: Don’t go out again.

You paused. Staring at the screen. Why were you listening to him?

You: Okay

And since that night—your chats… didn’t stop. Never anything important. Sometimes completely random.

Yoongi: If yesterday’s soup is reheated, does it still taste good?

You: Depends how you reheat it.

Yoongi: If I do it wrong, will it taste bad?

You: Yes.

Yoongi: …

You even laughed softly by yourself in your room.

Or—

Yoongi: You almost dropped the spoon earlier, right?

You: You pay a lot of attention.

Yoongi: Just normal.

“Just normal,” he said. Even though you knew—it wasn’t normal. The following days changed without you realizing.

Every time you got home— “Have you arrived?”

Every night— “Don’t stay up late.”

Every morning— “Are you awake?”

Small things. But consistent. And more dangerously—you always replied. Without realizing. Without being forced. The walls you built so high—slowly… cracked. Not because he broke them. But because you yourself… started opening them.

The next Monday, you stood in front of his house door in UN Village. Your heart—wasn’t normal. Even though this wasn’t your first time coming. But now… it felt different.

You opened the door. Walked in. And as if it was already routine—he was there. Sitting casually in the living room. Turning when you entered. And—smiling.

“You’re late.”

You immediately stopped in place.

“I’m… like usual.”

“No,” he said casually. “Today you’re two minutes later.”

You frowned. “You counted?”

He shrugged. “Just felt like it.”

You immediately walked to the kitchen, pretending not to care. Even though—your cheeks were already getting warm.

That day, as usual, you cooked. And as usual—he was near you. But this time… closer.

You stood in front of the upper cabinet, trying to reach a glass that was a bit too high. Before you could grab it—his hand was already above you. Taking the glass. His body close. Too close. Your breath hitched.

He handed the glass to you. “Here.”

You took it quickly. “Thank you.”

Then immediately stepped back one step. Reflex.

Yoongi saw that. And… smiled slightly. “What’s wrong with you?”

“What?”

“Like you’re avoiding me.”

You immediately busied yourself at the sink. “No.”

“You clearly are.”

“No.”

He stepped a little closer again. “Are you scared?”

You immediately turned quickly. “I’m not scared.”

“Then?”

You went quiet. No safe answer.

He leaned slightly, bringing his face closer—not too close, but enough to make your heart completely lose control. “Nervous?”

His voice was soft. Almost like a whisper. And that—was dangerous. You immediately stepped back again. “Ugh… you’re annoying.”

He chuckled softly. And again— that sound made everything more unstable. “You said you’re not scared.”

“I’m not.”

“But you stepped back.”

You glared at him—or at least tried to look annoyed. When in reality—you just… didn’t know what to do.

“Are you going to help or annoy me?” you asked.

He shrugged. “Help by annoying.”

You held back a smile. Hard. Too hard.

Days like that kept repeating. Small things. Close. Warm. And without realizing—you started waiting for it.

Waiting for him to be in the living room. Waiting for his texts. Waiting for the little things you used to avoid. And that—that was what scared you the most. Because you knew—you were no longer fully in the same place as before. And he—never stopped getting closer. Slowly. Consistently. As if he truly intended… to not let you drift away anymore.

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The following days felt… too light for something you were initially afraid of. The changes in Min Yoongi were no longer something small you had to search for. Now… they were clear. And that was exactly what made you even more uneasy. Because he was no longer just “there.” He was truly… getting closer.

That day, you were standing in the kitchen, trying to reach something from the top shelf. Your fingertips almost touched it—but not quite. You lifted yourself slightly on your toes. Still not enough. And before you tried again—two hands suddenly appeared on either side of you. Holding the edge of the counter. Trapping you between his body.

You froze instantly. Your breath caught. Yoongi stood right behind you. Close. Too close.

“What are you doing?”

His voice was low. So close to your ear. Then you turned your body around.

“I… I’m getting that,” you answered, your voice softer than you realized.

His hand moved past your head, grabbing the item you meant. But he… didn’t step back right away. Still there. Still close. Your heart—was already a mess. You could feel his breath. Warm. Slow.

And somehow… everything felt like it stopped. You swallowed slowly. Then—without realizing—you closed your eyes. For a split second. You thought… he would—

And suddenly—a soft laugh was heard. Close. Warm. “What are you doing closing your eyes?”

You immediately opened them. Your face heated up instantly.

“I—I didn’t—”

Before you could finish—he leaned a little closer—and… He gently patted your head.

You completely froze.

Yoongi stepped back slightly, still with a faint smile on his face. “Cute.”

You couldn’t respond right away. Your heart felt… too loud. Too fast.

“Ugh… what are you even doing,” you muttered softly, trying to sound annoyed but clearly failing.

He chuckled again. And this time… didn’t try to get closer again. As if he knew—that was enough. No need for more. No need to rush. And that—was what made everything feel more real.

Since that day, you couldn’t act normal anymore. Every time he was close—you got nervous. Every time he spoke—you became too aware of his tone. Every time he looked at you—you had to pretend you didn’t notice. Even though you did. Everything.

And Yoongi—clearly knew. But he didn’t push. Didn’t force. He just… stayed there. In the same way. Slow. Consistent.

That night, when you finished working and were getting ready to go home—you grabbed your bag as usual. “I’m heading home.”

“I’ll take you.”

Direct. No pause.

You let out a small sigh. “No need, it’s not raining.”

He was already standing, taking his car keys. “I’ll take you.”

“Aren’t you tired?”

“No.”

His tone was casual. But clear. Not something you could refuse. You finally gave in. “Okay…”

In the car, the atmosphere felt… different than before. Not awkward. But not entirely relaxed either. More like—you both knew something had changed. And neither of you wanted to say it first.

Yoongi drove like usual. Focused. Calm. And you—once again couldn’t help but notice.

His hands on the steering wheel. The side profile of his face. The way he occasionally glanced at the road with sharp but calm eyes. And without realizing—you smiled a little.

“What?”

You snapped out of it. “Nothing.”

He glanced briefly. “You smiled.”

“I didn’t.”

He smirked slightly. “Liar.”

You turned toward the window. Trying to hide it. Even though—it clearly didn’t work.

A few minutes later, the car stopped in front of your house. You unbuckled your seatbelt.

“Thank you.”

You were about to get out—but his voice stopped you. “You’re coming tomorrow, right?”

You paused. Turned. The question was simple. But the way he asked—it wasn’t.

“Yeah,” you answered softly.

He nodded slightly. Didn’t say anything else. But his gaze—was enough. And as you got out of the car, walking toward your house—you could feel one thing becoming clearer every day—you were no longer just trying to hold on. You were starting to… fall. Slowly. Without realizing it. And this time—no one was really trying to stop it anymore.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁.

That morning, you still came. Like usual. Even though… it didn’t fully feel usual. Your steps were slightly slower as you entered his house. You still took off your shoes, still went straight to the kitchen, still tried to do everything as if nothing had changed.

Even though your body felt heavy. Your head slightly dizzy. And you knew… you weren’t really fit. But you still came. Because this was your job. And you didn’t want to look weak.

Tang-ie greeted you as usual, but this time you only managed to pet him briefly before opening the fridge. Cold. Too cold.

You stood in front of the fridge a little longer than usual, trying to focus on the ingredients—but your vision was slightly blurry.

“What’s wrong with you?”

Min Yoongi’s voice came from behind. You immediately closed the fridge.

“Nothing’s wrong.”

You tried to sound normal. But you didn’t turn around. And that was already suspicious enough.

Yoongi stepped closer. “You look pale.”

“You’re exaggerating.”

“You look pale,” he repeated, softer.

You took a breath. “Just lack of sleep.”

You started taking ingredients, trying to ignore him. But your hands trembled slightly as you held the knife. And before you could start—Yoongi immediately took it from your hand.

You were startled.

“Sit.”

You shook your head immediately. “No, I can—”

“Sit.”

His tone was firm. Not loud. But… not something you could argue with.

“I’m paid to cook,” you tried again.

He looked at you. For a while.

“And I said sit.”

Silence. A few seconds. You exhaled softly. And for the first time—you didn’t resist. You walked to the sofa. Sat down. Still feeling uneasy. Still feeling guilty.

Meanwhile in the kitchen—Yoongi stood. Alone. Looking at the ingredients you usually handled so easily.

He stayed still for a moment. Then… started. His movements weren’t as smooth as yours. Not as fast. But enough. He remembered. The way you cut. The way you cooked. The small things that all this time… he had been paying attention to.

Meanwhile, you on the sofa—at first still tried to sit upright. Waiting. Holding on. But your body… wasn’t that strong. Your head felt heavy. Your eyes slowly closed. And without realizing—you fell asleep.

Yoongi finished cooking. Not perfect. But decent.

He wiped his hands, then walked to the living room. And stopped. You were asleep on the sofa. Your position slightly tilted, your hands folded at your side, your face looking… tired. Paler than usual.

He stood there. For a few seconds. Watching. No intention to wake you up. No heart to do it.

He walked closer. Slowly. Sat beside you. Still silent. Just watching. And somehow—his chest felt… strange. Not tight. Not light either. More like… something he couldn’t explain.

A few seconds later—without you realizing—your body moved slightly. A reflex. Searching for comfort. And slowly… you leaned against him. Your head fell onto his shoulder. Warm. Close.

Yoongi froze instantly. For a moment. But he didn’t move. Didn’t pull away. Didn’t stop it either. He just… stayed still. Letting it happen. Slowly, he adjusted his position slightly. Shifting his shoulder so you’d be more comfortable. His hand moved hesitantly—then stopped. Not touching you. But close enough. As if ready… if you needed it.

Tang-ie climbed onto the sofa, sitting near your feet, looking for a moment… then staying still too. The room was quiet. Calm. And for the first time—there was no distance you forced. No boundaries you held. There was only you… asleep on his shoulder. And him—who didn’t want you to wake up too soon.

Yoongi stared straight ahead. But his mind… was full. About you. About everything that had changed. About how without realizing—you had already become a part of this place. And maybe—part of him too.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁.

You slowly woke up. The living room lights were already dim, leaving only a soft, warm glow. For a few seconds, you stayed still… trying to remember where you were. Then you realized—earlier, your head had been resting against something warm. And now… you had shifted slightly.

You turned your head. Beside you, Min Yoongi was asleep. His position slightly tilted, one arm folded at his side, his face looking… much calmer than usual. No cold expression, no distance. Just… peaceful.

You stayed quiet for a few seconds. Strange. All of this felt… too different from when you first met. You glanced at the table. The food. It's already cold. And somehow… your chest felt warm. He cooked. For you.

You took a slow breath, then moved a little closer. “Yoongi…”

Your voice was soft. No response. You hesitated for a moment, then lightly touched his arm.

“Yoongi… wake up.”

He let out a small groan, his brows slightly furrowed, then slowly opened his eyes. For a few seconds… he looked confused. Then—his focus landed on you.

“You’re awake…” his voice was still hoarse.

You nodded slightly. “Yeah. Sorry… I fell asleep.”

He immediately sat up, almost reflexively. “How are you? Still dizzy?”

The question came quickly. Too quickly. You were a little surprised.

“I’m better now.”

He looked at you for a moment, making sure. Then nodded. “Good.”

You glanced at the table. “The food… is already cold.”

He looked too, then immediately stood up.

“I’ll heat it.”

You were about to stand as well, but he stopped you right away. “Just sit.”

His tone wasn’t harsh. But… clear. You finally stayed still. Sitting. Watching him in the kitchen. His movements still weren’t as smooth as yours. But now… there was something different. He was serious. Focused. As if it mattered. And somehow—that made your chest feel… strange.

A few minutes later, the food was warm again. You both sat at the table. Facing each other. And for the first time—eating together like this felt… very different. No comments. No criticism. No rigid distance. Just—warm. Quiet. But comfortable.

You took a bite. And without realizing—smiled. He noticed immediately.

“What?”

You shook your head slightly. “Nothing.”

But—it tasted good. Not perfect like your cooking. But… enough. And more than that—there was effort in it.

After finishing, you stood up slowly. “I’m going home.”

He immediately stood too. “Who’s at home with you?”

You paused slightly. “No one.”

His brows furrowed instantly. “No one?”

“Yeah.”

He stayed quiet for a moment. Clearly didn’t like that answer. Especially seeing your condition today.

“You… should just stay over.”

You turned quickly. “What?”

He hesitated a little now. But continued. “Just stay here. You’re sick.”

You were completely blank for a few seconds. Then… you almost laughed. “That’s absurd.” Direct. No filter.

Yoongi went silent. And for the first time… he seemed aware. “Yeah…”

He rubbed the back of his neck slowly. “It’s… kind of unreasonable.”

You held back a smile. The situation was awkward. But also… funny. In the end—he still grabbed his car keys. “I’ll take you home.”

And you didn’t refuse. In the car, the atmosphere wasn’t as tense as before.

Lighter. Closer.

When you arrived at your house—you got out. “Thank you.”

“Yeah.”

He was still sitting there, looking at you. “Go rest right away.”

“Yeah.”

You went inside. Closed the door. And a few seconds later—your phone vibrated.

Yoongi: Are you in your room?

You smiled.

You: Yeah.

A few minutes—

Yoongi: Take your medicine.

You: Okay.

Then again—

Yoongi: If you feel dizzy again, tell me.

You even let out a small laugh. It was obvious. He was worried. And honestly… it was cute. But also warm.

You went to your room, took a quick shower, trying to freshen up. And without realizing—you left your phone for quite a while.

When you came out—the screen was full of notifications. Several messages. And one… video call. You froze instantly.

“…Seriously?”

Your phone vibrated again. Video call. From Min Yoongi. You hesitated. A lot. But finally—you answered. His face appeared right away on the screen. Hair slightly messy, still in casual clothes, his expression… clearly worried.

“Where were you?”

Straight to the point. No small talk. You almost laughed.

“I was showering.”

He paused for a moment. Then let out a breath. As if he could finally calm down.

“You didn’t reply.”

“You even video called?”

“I was worried something happened.”

Simple. Honest. And that… made your chest feel warm again.

You looked at the screen. Strange. Everything felt strange. But also… comfortable.

“I’m okay.”

He nodded slowly. Still looking at you. As if making sure himself. And you realized—the wall you built… was almost gone. Not because you gave up. But because he—never stopped trying.

“Yoongi…”

You called softly.

“Yeah?”

You hesitated for a moment.

“I’m still scared.”

Honest. He went quiet. Didn’t answer right away. Then—“I know.”

His voice was softer than usual.

“I’m not asking you to stop being scared immediately.”

Silence.

“But I’m serious,” he continued. “I’m not playing around.”

His gaze was steady. Not avoiding. “I’ll prove it.”

You looked at him. Quiet.

“And if you want… we can try slowly.”

He paused for a moment. Giving space. “Together.” That word… fell softly. But it was enough.

And for the first time—you didn’t pull away immediately. Didn’t shut yourself off. You just… stayed there. With feelings you could no longer hide.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁.

You stayed still for quite a while after the call ended. Min Yoongi’s words kept echoing in your mind—slowly… together. It felt warm. But also scary.

You sat at the edge of your bed, taking slow breaths a few times. This wasn’t a small decision. This wasn’t just “trying things out.” You knew… once you took a step forward, you wouldn’t be able to pretend nothing happened anymore.

Your phone was still in your hand. You stared at the blank screen for a few seconds. Then finally—you typed.

You: Yeah… let’s try.

You stared at the sentence before sending it. Your heart beating faster. Then—send.

Not even a few seconds later—a reply came. Not long.

Yoongi: Wait.

“Wait—?”

What you didn’t know, he was already on his way when you hadn’t replied earlier. He was that worried. A few minutes later—the doorbell rang. You froze instantly. Your heart dropped. Slowly… you walked toward the door. Peeked. And there he was. Standing in front of your house, wearing a hoodie, a mask—but still—you knew it was him.

You panicked right away. Quickly opening the door, pulling him inside.

“Yoongi, are you crazy?!” you whispered quickly while closing the door. “What if someone sees?!”

He took off his mask slowly.

His gaze went straight to you. Serious.

“I can’t say this through chat.”

One sentence. And the atmosphere shifted instantly. Quiet. Tense. Too close.

You stood in front of him, still a little shocked, still trying to process—but your eyes couldn’t leave him.

“If you said you want to try…” he continued softly, “I don’t want it to be halfway.”

Your heart started racing again.

“I also don’t want you to think this is just… temporary,” he added.

There was no joking tone. No hesitation. Just… serious. You swallowed slowly.

The atmosphere in the living room became too tight, too full of something unspoken but already felt.

“If you trust me,” he said again, softer now, “I’ll also do my best.”

You looked at him. Quiet. And somehow—this time you didn’t step back. Not like before. Yoongi took one step closer. Slowly. Giving you time… to step back if you wanted. But you didn’t. And that was already your answer.

His hand lifted, hesitating for a moment… then touched your cheek carefully. Warm. Gentle. Your heartbeat went out of control.

“Can I?” he whispered.

His voice was low. Close. You didn’t answer. But you didn’t move away either. And that was enough. He leaned in. Slowly. And when his lips touched yours—everything felt… still. Soft. Warm. Not rushed. As if he was really making sure you were comfortable. And that—only made your heartbeat even more uncontrollable.

Your hand, without realizing, gripped his shirt slightly. Pulling him closer. And from there—everything changed. No longer just hesitation. No longer just “trying.” But something… both of you felt. Close. Real. And impossible to stop.

That night felt long. And too fast at the same time. You didn’t know exactly when you moved. When your steps led toward the bedroom.

When you stopped thinking. What you knew—was that night, you didn’t hold back anymore. Everything felt… warm. Close. And real. Without force. Without the hesitation that used to be so big.

Just two people—who finally stopped hiding from what they felt. Time passed without notice. And when everything settled—what remained was unsteady breathing… and a silence that felt comfortable. Not awkward. Not unfamiliar. Just… close.

Yoongi stayed there. Didn’t leave. As if he never intended to. And you… didn’t ask him to. That night, for the first time—you didn’t feel the need to keep your distance.

Morning came slowly. Light slipped through the curtains. You woke up gradually. Warm. That was the first thing you felt. Then you realized—there was an arm wrapped around you.

You froze for a moment. Then slowly… turn your head. Min Yoongi was still asleep. Close. Very close. His face calm, his breathing steady, and his arm… still holding you like last night.

Your heart started beating again. But this time—not from fear. More like… something warm spreading slowly in your chest. You stayed there. Not moving. Not pulling away. For the first time—you didn’t try to run. And maybe—that was the beginning of something truly new.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁.

That morning came slowly, softly, with light slipping through the gaps in your bedroom curtains. You woke up first. And the first thing you saw—was Min Yoongi. Asleep beside you. Close. Too close for something you once thought was “impossible.”

You stayed still. Watching his face. His hair slightly messy, his breathing calm, his lips slightly parted—and for the first time, you saw him… without all the layers he usually showed the world. No coldness. No distance. Just… him.

And you really didn’t expect—him to be in your bed. Yours. Not in his luxurious villa. Not in a place full of distance. But here. Close. Real. Without realizing it, you smiled softly.

“Morning…” you whispered, even though you knew he wasn’t awake yet.

But he was. A little. His eyes still closed, but his hand moved, instinctively searching for you. Then—finding you. His arm wrapped lazily around your waist, pulling you slightly closer.

“I don’t want to wake up yet…”

His voice was hoarse. Heavy. Still half asleep.

You let out a small laugh. “You have to wake up.”

“Don’t want to.”

And before you could say anything else—his hand moved slowly, brushing against your thigh casually, like a reflex that was too comfortable.

You immediately tensed a little. “Yoongi…”

“Yeah…”

“Wasn’t last night enough?”

The words slipped out faster than you expected. He paused for a moment. Then—eyes still half closed—the corner of his lips lifted slightly.

“Not yet.”

His answer was casual. Too casual. And that instantly made your heart race again. Before you could move away—he had already pulled you closer. His kiss this time felt different. Still soft. But more certain. More… knowing. Not rushed, but clearly not hesitant. And you—who were still trying to hold back—immediately lost your rhythm again.

That morning moved slowly. Warm. Filled with small pauses, soft laughter, breaths colliding, and touches that were no longer awkward. Nothing rushed. Nothing forced. Just two people—who finally let themselves… be close.

After everything settled, the two of you stayed there for a while. Quiet. Calm. And this time… you didn’t feel the need to run from the feeling.

“Is it enough now?” you asked softly.

He chuckled lightly, still with his eyes closed. “More or less.”

You lightly hit his arm. “Hey.”

He smiled. And you realized—you liked seeing that. Getting out of bed felt… lighter than usual.

The two of you eventually went to the kitchen. Still with a slightly awkward but… warm atmosphere. You started preparing a simple breakfast, but Yoongi immediately took over part of it.

“You just sit.”

“I’m already better.”

“It’s fine.”

His tone was casual, but still… protective. You finally sat on the chair, watching him. And again—strange. Seeing him in your kitchen. Cooking. In your house. Like this.

“Where are you going later?” you asked.

“Practice.”

“Oh.”

He nodded. “All day at HYBE.”

You nodded slowly.

“So you don’t need to cook today.”

“So nice,” you mumbled.

He chuckled softly. Your breakfast was simple. But it felt… enough. After that, Yoongi got ready to leave. Before stepping out, he paused in front of you. Looking. As if making sure of something.

“Take care of yourself.”

You nodded. “Yeah.”

And before you realized—it, he kissed your forehead. Brief. Warm. Then he left.

That day, in the practice room—Yoongi tried to act normal. Like usual. Focused. Professional. But… his phone was never far.

During breaks—the screen lit up immediately. Your chats.

Yoongi:  What are you doing? Have you eaten? Are you at home?

Jimin glanced from the side. “Hyung… are you in love?”

Yoongi immediately looked up. “What are you talking about.”

“You check your phone every five minutes.”

From afar, Taehyung chimed in. “Seriously, you’re so different now.”

Yoongi didn’t answer. But the corner of his lips… lifted slightly. And that was already enough of an answer.

On the other side—you read his messages. One by one. And without realizing—you smiled. Because now—it wasn’t just him who changed. You did too. And this time—you both knew—this was no longer something that could be called “temporary.”

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In the practice studio, Yoongi tried… to look normal. His movements were the same. Focused. Professional. Not talking much like usual. At a glance—nothing had changed. But if you looked longer… it was obvious something was different. He checked his phone more often. Smiled to himself more often. And most noticeably—he looked… impatient.

“So weird,” Jimin muttered while watching from afar.

“Why?” Taehyung asked.

“Hyung looks like he’s waiting for something.”

Taehyung narrowed his eyes. “Or… someone.”

Meanwhile, Yoongi pretended not to hear.

Even though… It was true.

Since morning, his messages to you hadn’t stopped.

Yoongi: Don’t sleep yet tonight. I’ll finish pretty late. Wait for me.

And you—who initially only replied briefly—slowly got pulled in too.

You: Aren’t you tired? Practicing all day and still going out?

The reply came quickly.

Yoongi: I want to.

One word. But enough to make you pause… then smile to yourself.

Practice felt longer than usual. Every break, Yoongi checked his phone. Every time it almost ended, he looked at the clock. And when finally—

“Alright, that’s a wrap for today.”

He stood up immediately. Fast.

“Wait, want to eat first?” Jimin asked.

Yoongi grabbed his jacket right away. “No. I’m tired. I want to go straight home.”

Taehyung smirked. “Tired… or in a hurry?”

Yoongi only glanced briefly. “Tired.”

But the way he left the room—was too fast for someone who was just “tired.”

Outside, he got into his car. And before the engine fully started—a message was already sent to you.

Yoongi: I’m on the way.

You, who were almost asleep, immediately sat up from your lying position. Your heart—felt strange. Different from usual. The minutes felt longer than they should. Until finally—another notification.

Yoongi: I’m outside.

You almost stood up immediately. Quickly grabbed your bag. Check yourself briefly—then go out. And when you opened the door—the car was there. Dim lights. Engine running. And him—waiting.

You got into the car. And before you could say anything—Yoongi immediately looked at you. “Finally.”

His tone… relieved.

You smiled softly. “You look like you’ve been waiting forever.”

“I have.”

Short. Honest. And that immediately made your cheeks warm.

The car started moving. Not to any particular place. No clear destination. Just… driving around. Because you both knew—going somewhere crowded was too risky.

So your world that night—was just that car. City lights. And roads that kept moving. The first few minutes were quiet. But not awkward. More like… enjoying it.

Until—suddenly Yoongi’s hand moved. Searching for yours. And holding it. You immediately turned. Your heart—shot up.

“You’re driving…”

“I can.”

Casual. As if it was nothing. Even though it wasn’t for you. His hand was warm. His grip not too tight. But enough to make you… constantly aware. You tried to focus outside the window. Failed. Because you were too aware—your hands were still connected.

“You’ve been quiet,” he said.

“So have you.”

“I’ve been looking at you.”

You immediately turned quickly. “Watch the road.”

He chuckled softly. “Yeah.”

But his grip… didn’t let go. The car kept moving. City lights passing one by one. And in the middle of it all—you both… felt like you had your own world.

“Are you tired?” you asked softly.

“Tired.”

“Then you still went out?”

He glanced briefly.

“Because of you.”

Direct. No hesitation. And that—was too honest. You immediately looked down slightly. Unable to hold back your smile. Unable to stop your racing heart either.

“I feel guilty,” you muttered.

“Don’t.”

He lifted your hand slightly. Still holding it.

“This… is better than resting.”

You didn’t reply. Because you knew—if you spoke now, your voice wouldn’t be steady.

A while later, the car stopped on the side of a quieter road. City lights are still visible. The atmosphere is calm. And for the first time—you were truly still. No distractions. No reason to look away. Just… the two of you.

Yoongi turned. Looking at you. Longer than usual. And you—didn’t look away right away. Your heartbeat sounded too loud in your own ears.

“Are you still scared?” he asked softly.

You paused for a moment. Then—“Still.” Honest.

He nodded slightly. “It’s okay.”

His hand is still holding yours. Warm. Steady. “I’m here.”

That sentence was simple. But enough. And inside that car—on that quiet night—you both smiled softly. With the same feeling—light. Nervous. And… blooming, like teenagers falling in love for the first time.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁.

The car finally slowed down. The rounds that had felt too fast… had to stop eventually. The lights in front of your house were already visible, and somehow—this time, the atmosphere felt different. Heavier. Yoongi turned off the engine.

But neither of you got out right away. Your hands were still intertwined. Neither of you wanted to let go first. Silence. Just the sound of the engine fading and the distant city in the background.

“We’re here,” you said softly.

“Yeah.”

But neither of you moved. You turned slightly. So did he. And for a few seconds—you just looked at each other. As if both of you knew… you didn’t want this moment to end.

“Tomorrow…” Yoongi started.

You waited.

“…you’re not coming over, right?”

You smiled a little. “Yeah. It’s the weekend.”

He nodded slowly. His expression shifted slightly. Not obviously sad… but enough for you to feel it. Heavy. And somehow—you felt the same. Thinking about not seeing each other for two days… felt long.

“What if I come to your place?” he suddenly asked.

Direct. No hesitation. You immediately turned. “What?”

“We’ll just stay in. Not going anywhere.”

His tone was casual. But clearly… serious. Your heart immediately grew restless again.

“Yoongi…”

You hesitated. A lot. “That’s risky.”

“We’ll be careful.”

You shook your head slowly. “What if someone sees?”

He stayed quiet for a moment. You continued. “I’ll just come to your place instead.”

He looked at you. Slightly surprised. “Really?”

“Yeah.”

You took a slow breath.

“UN Village is safer, right? Security is tight, outsiders can’t just get in.”

He immediately nodded. Without thinking. “Okay.” Quick. Almost too quick.

You even laughed softly. “You didn’t even think about it first?”

“No need.”

His answer was casual. But clear. “I actually prefer you coming over.”

You looked down slightly. Unable to hide your smile. “You…”

He leaned a little closer. Still in his seat. But enough to make the distance feel smaller again.

“You’re coming tomorrow?”

“Yeah.”

“Promise?”

You looked at him. Then nodded softly. “Yeah.”

And that was enough. His smile appeared again. That one. The one that always made your heart race for no reason.

“I’ll be waiting.”

You slowly opened the car door. Got out. But before you could really walk away—his voice called.

“Y/N.”

You turned. He was still in the car. Looking at you. And without many words—he just smiled slightly. But this time—it was different. More… clear. More warm. More honest. And somehow—that was enough to make your chest feel full.

You smiled back. Then went inside. Meanwhile in the car—Min Yoongi leaned back in his seat for a moment. Looking ahead. And for the first time in a long while—he was truly… impatient for the next day.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁.

The next day, you really came. Your heart still… refused to cooperate. Even though this was already a decision you both made. Even though you already knew this would happen. Still—your heart raced.

When you entered the villa in UN Village, the atmosphere immediately felt… different. Not like a workday. No “work” rhythm. No pressure. Just—Yoongi. Already waiting.

Min Yoongi stood in the living room, casual, wearing a light hoodie, his hair slightly messy—and when he saw you walk in, his expression immediately changed. More alive.

“You came.”

His tone was light, but clearly… happy.

You nodded slightly. “Yeah.”

You glanced toward the kitchen.

“The ingredients—”

“No need.”

He cut you off immediately. You turned.

“I already ordered food.”

You frowned. “Why?”

He walked a little closer. “I don’t want to waste time.”

That answer… was too honest. And it instantly made your cheeks warm.

“You usually take a long time in the kitchen,” he continued casually. “Today… I want you here.”

Your heart—immediately lost its rhythm. You tried to act normal.

“Ugh… you.”

He just smiled slightly. And without many words—you were both already sitting on the sofa. The TV was on. But honestly—neither of you was really watching.

Yoongi sat close. Too close. His hand slowly pulled you a little—and before you realized it—you were already leaning on his shoulder. Quiet. Comfortable.

His arm wrapped loosely around you. Occasionally brushing your arm softly. And you… didn’t refuse. Didn’t pull away. Just… stayed there. Enjoying it.

“This is better than going out,” you muttered softly.

“Yeah,” he replied immediately.

“You’re afraid of getting caught?”

You nodded slightly. “Very.”

He lowered his head a little, his voice softer. “Me too.”

You turned slightly. “You?”

He nodded. “But not because of me.”

You stayed quiet.

“Because of you.”

That sentence—instantly made your heart drop again.

Before you could respond—

Knock knock.

Both of you froze instantly. Reflex.

Yoongi immediately looked toward the door. So did you. Your heart shot up.

“Did you order something else?” you whispered, panicked.

He shook his head. “No.”

Knock knock.

Clearer. More real. You looked at each other. And in one second—panic.

Yoongi stood up immediately. “You… just sit normally.”

“Normally how?!”

He was already walking to the door. And when it opened—you both knew… this wasn’t a normal situation.

His mother. Standing at the door. Holding a small bag.

“I just stopped by for a bit—”

She paused. Looking inside. Looking at you. You immediately stood up. Your heart—completely chaotic.

“Auntie…”

You bowed slightly, nervous. She looked at you. Then at Yoongi. Then back at you.

“Oh… you’re here?”

Her tone wasn’t angry. But clearly… surprised. “Aren’t you usually here on weekdays?”

You opened your mouth. Not knowing what to say. “Yeah, I—”

“She…”

Yoongi suddenly spoke. You turned instantly.

“Has… extra work.”

You froze. What?!

His mother frowned. “What kind of work?”

Yoongi paused. Clearly… unprepared. “…just… work.”

You immediately looked down, holding yourself back from reacting. That was… absurd.

His mother looked at both of you. Silent for a few seconds. Then—nodded slowly.

“Oh… I see.”

Her tone was… odd. Like she didn’t fully believe it. But also didn’t want to push further.

“I just came to drop this,” she said, handing over a bag of bread. “I won’t stay long.”

“Yes, Auntie.”

You were still a bit nervous. Yoongi stood beside you, slightly too close… without realizing it. His mother noticed. Briefly. And a small smile appeared on her face. Not too obvious. But enough.

“Alright, I’ll go now.”

“Yes, Auntie.”

The door closed. And once it fully shut—you both went silent. For a few seconds. Then—you quickly turned to Yoongi.

“Extra work?”

He looked at you. Then—laughed softly.

You immediately covered your face for a moment. “Oh my God…”

“You were about to say what?”

“I didn’t know!”

The two of you finally… laughed. Softly. But relieved. Yoongi walked closer, pulling you gently into his warm embrace, then pressed a kiss to the top of your head.

Meanwhile outside—his mother walked away from the house. With a wide smile. Wider than before. She shook her head lightly.

“That kid…”

Her tone was warm.

Because it was obvious—her son had been lying. And just as obvious—he was in love. Especially—with you. And that—made her happier than anything.

← Part 1 | Part 3 →

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Author Notes: Wow! I have to release this part earlier than I expected because it turns out so many people enjoyed this story and somehow it reached 500 likes so quickly. I honestly thought I’d be posting Part 2 around the end of June. Maybe because quite a lot of people reblogged it, more people found it and pressed the like button faster.. I hope you like this part too. Don’t forget to leave a like, reblog, or comment on which part you liked the most.