Latest Posts by hans0ul - Page 2

evil infodumping where you just tell lies

"you sound smart" that's because i've spent years doing academic writing to the point that it's my default cadence plus or minus the use of profanity as a tone indicator

"you sound stupid" that's because i'm dumb as fuck

14.12.2023 XCSS Weibo

I SUPPORT THE POCHAKYEOM AGENDA JUST AS MUCH AS I SUPPORT THE SHUAMOROLL ONE

HAECHAN LOVE HAECHAN LIFE

Ugh, the new Allure pictures they just released of Johnny. The ones of him by the water. Running in the water in the bucket hat?! HIS SMILE?! Help.

im screamingnrnemdnnxnxjcjxjcjcjcnOkggg OMGGGGGGG LIKE NO U DONT UNDERSTANDDDNCNVNNC

blondes are done with fun ✲ h. renjun

pairing. journalism student! renjun x journalism student! fem! reader starring. huang renjun, lee donghyuck, yoo jimin, huh yunjin genre. college au, acquaintances to lovers. angst, fluff, smut warnings. alcohol consuption, swearing, renjun is a dick at the beginning, sexual content (fingering, unprotected sex) word count. 31k (31.320) a/n. awsten knight please stop making music so i can stop writing fics about your songs thanku. also this is my first smut please be gentle with it also if you're my friend please don't read the smut parts orif you do dont tell me abt it or i will literally kms

playlist. cherry red - waterparks ; fake happy - paramore ; heaven angel - the driver era ; blonde - waterparks ; disaster - conan gray ; raspberry - grouplove ; black butterflies and déjá vu - the maine ; fuck about it - waterpakrs, blackbear ; robbers - the 1975

a rumor has it that the popular couple in town broke up after years of being together. having to share your favorite seat in class with the male part of said relationship, you try to find out how to make your heartbroken project partner warm up to you— or— huang renjun goes blonde when he's sad.

✲ PART 1 OF THE SIMPLIFY ROMANCE SERIES ✲

“A rumor has it Huang Renjun and Huh Yunjin broke up,” is the first sentence that lands into your ears when your feet cross the imaginary border of the school premises one early morning, a cup of coffee in your hand as your best friend Jimin breaks the news to you, walking by your side into the university building.

Snapping your head around to look at her in shock and surprise at the news, eyes wide in question, you’re already invested in the love life of your classmates more than you probably should be, but due to multiple reasons that could explain it; one of them being the ordinary human curiosity– mainly created in your brain thanks to the fact that these two had dated for as long as you can remember– another reason being the gossip-oriented side of your personality– the part of it you like to explain through the fact that you’re a Journalism major and the love for gossip is just another part of your (hopefully) future occupation– and the last reason, the one that is probably the most harmless of them all (or maybe the most, depending on how you look at it) is the mere fact that while Huang Renjun had been a taken man for as long as you remember, he is also insanely attractive, and you’re just a simple woman. The idea of him being finally attainable is irking something in your brain, and even though you would feel embarrassed to admit this out loud, you can’t help but wonder what happened between those two after such a long time that made the legendary couple– iconic, even– break up. 

“What happened?” you ask, walking alongside the girl as you round the corner of the hall, in a rush to get to your morning class. The two of you slept in by accident, watching too many episodes of Keeping up with the Kardashians last night to notice the clock striking well past midnight, and now the journey to school was more difficult than it already is, with your dorms situated 30 minutes away and the class starting at 8 o’clock sharp. The time is now 7:58AM and while you’re already in the building and yours and Jimin’s classes are different, they are both on the fifth floor– and with the frequency of your visits to the gym, the way up there is hard not only because of the time pinch, but also because of the shortness of your breath when you rush to walk up there in less than five minutes before you have to take the walk of shame to your desk, watched by the professor with passive aggressive eyes.

“Nobody knows,” Jimin heaves out, taking two steps at once now, “I just heard from Yizhuo that Yunjin deleted all of their Instagram posts together and she supposedly stopped wearing that necklace he got her for their anniversary. Oh and also, Renjun didn’t drop her off at school on Friday, so something must be up.”

Humming in agreement, you rush up the stairs, the halls already emptied out because all of the students are hidden in their respective classroom. You manage to keep your voice down in case anyone’s listening in on your insensitive gossip, now that your voices aren’t drowned out by any other noise. “That’s weird. They’ve been together for so long, I’m starting to lose faith in real love if they really broke up.”

“No, yeah, I know,” Jimin squints as the two of you finally reach the fifth floor, the girl checking the time on her wristwatch huffing out at the sight of already being late, “something bad must have happened, if they really broke up, because the two of them didn’t seem like they’ve had any problems, you know.”

“Definitely,” you nod, pacing along the hall as you finally reach the door to your classroom, waving your roommate off with a tight-lipped smile, still trying to catch your breath. “I’ll see you after class?”

The girl doesn’t even turn around as she agrees with you, long legs striding down the hall into the last classroom on the left, waving at you with her right hand. “See ya!”

Silently opening the door to the classroom, you notice the professor already standing at the very front of the class, turning around to look at your figure once the almost unhearable noise of the door cuts through the silence in the room. Offering her a shameful smile, you hurriedly scan the space, feeling the eyes of everyone glued to your sweaty and out of breath body, as you try to find a place to sit. Your usual seat is right at the corner of the room, at the very back– it has the window in close accessibility, so you don’t have to worry about being too hot or too cold, depending on the weather, because you regulate the freshness of the air in the classroom. The window also provides a good distraction to you once the class gets too boring to listen to, so you’d say with 100% sureness that the desk you chose to sit at the very first day of your Journalism class was the best option. 

However, when you look at the usually empty desk for two– one of the chairs, the one closer to the corridor being your handy armrest as well as a place to put your coat and bag on as you sit on the other one, the one closer to the window– you notice a man sitting at your usual place, eyes glued to the whiteboard. Feverishly scanning the classroom once again, realizing in terror that there is no other empty space for you to sit at, you sigh in annoyance as you near your usual desk, cursing the intruder in your brain for breaking the unwritten seating plan. 

Taking the bag off your shoulder, you softly land it to the ground, afraid of making any noise that would interrupt your professor’s lecture again. After sitting at the chair and trying to listen to the words coming out of your professor’s mouth, trying to see what she’s talking about, you find yourself drifting off into the mess of your thoughts, choosing to daydream about the amazing lunch you’re about to have once your classes are over for the day, your eyes knowingly moving away from the whiteboard to their place out of the window. It’s a little harder to gaze out of it in the different position– you tell yourself you’ll come earlier next week so the intruder doesn’t take away your spot again and you can go back to your usual plan of watching people walking through the campus and making up fake stories about them in your brain– when your periphery vision takes notice of the side profile of your seatmate, the curve of his nose and the slight pout of his upper lip sparking interest in you as your brain finally connects the dots.

Only slightly moving your head to the side, so your seatmate doesn’t notice you staring, you observe Huang Renjun sitting at your desk. The image in front of you (or beside you, to be precise) surprises you to an extent nothing has ever surprised you before (no, not even the birthday parties Jimin has thrown you have made this effect on you– but that’s probably because she can’t keep a secret and always spoiled the surprise), and once again, there are multiple reasons for your surprise. To list a few, you’d start with the fact that Huang Renjun almost always sat at the same desk with his girlfriend Yunjin– the desk was at the very opposite corner of the room, leaving you to occasionally observe the couple as he landed a hand onto her thigh or let her put her leg into his lap, away from the eyes of the professor– but due to the news that were broken to you just a few minutes prior, maybe this is the only reason that shouldn’t surprise you with the sight of Renjun sitting by your side. Continuing the list, you’d state the fact that the boy looks lifeless– his eyes lost their usual spark and there are dark circles adorning his lower eyelids, the sick look making you feel almost sorry for your classmate. And to finish the list, you’d state the fact that takes you by surprise the most– the one that shocks you to your core, for it’s the reason why you didn’t recognise the boy when you first sat down in the first place. His hair is now bleach blond, and while the look definitely suits him, it’s something different, something new– because for as long as you can remember, not many things changed in Renjun’s appearance over the years, and you’re not so sure if you can consider this as the side effect of his breakup, or if he really just wanted change.

Blinking at the male, as if to make sure that you’re not dreaming, you take notice of the dead strands falling into his eyes, contrasting well with the darkness of his eyes. Once again noting that you’re just a simple woman and Huang Renjun is simply put, a very attractive man, you can’t help but gaze at him with a newly found interest, everything you’ve learned about the male this morning irking you with undeniable curiosity.

The sad and embarrassing reality of it all is, though, that you’re not the only one who gets that weird feeling of someone staring at you in public sometimes, only for that feeling to be true as you turn around and see someone with their eyes burning through your skull; Huang Renjun gets them as well, it seems, as he turns his head to you with his eyebrows furrowed, as if to silently ask you why the hell you’re creepily staring at his side profile in the middle of your Journalism class. The two of you were never close, despite sharing multiple classes over the course of multiple semesters, and so being caught only made you feel more embarrassed as you sharply turn your head towards the front of the classroom– so much for being subtle and nonchalant about it, erasing all the possibility of playing it off in the process– feeling heat creeping up your neck. 

This is not how you imagined your morning to go.

Trying hard to pay attention to the class instead, in order to both learn something and also forget about the events happening only a few seconds prior, there’s no use as your brain now decided to replay the moment over and over again, making sure you never forget about it and randomly think of it in the middle of the night 5 years from now, still not moving on from the shame. In the process of trying so hard to focus, you actually do quite the opposite– as if your brain decided to turn off from the essence of humiliation instead to protect you– and before you notice it, the class is over and everyone is scattering out of the classroom with their things and bags hung over their shoulders. At least it’s finally over, you think, when a voice lands into your ear, shaking you out of it.

“We’re doing the project together,” he says, and as you turn around to face the owner of the saccharine voice to inquire him on what the actual fuck he’s even talking about, before you get the chance, the man is already out of the room, leaving you standing in full dumbfoundance.

Maybe you should’ve paid more attention to the class, after all.

Next week, even though you arrive to class earlier than the last, it seems like your designated seat in the corner of the classroom is now your and Renjun’s designated seat in the corner of the classroom, and if you’re being totally honest, this is exactly the thing you did not expect to come up on your Junior year bingo card. Talking over the whole interaction with Jimin right when you got to dorms– alongside with the takeout you ordered in the restaurant that’s at the corner of the street– the both of you stared into your plates with a newly found sense of absolute, utter confusion. 

You also had to shamefully text one of the only classmates from your Journalism class whose number you have– Osaki Shotaro, who you had a thing with in Freshman year because you thought he was an exchange student and would go back to Japan after summer, surprising you with his smiley face in the class in your Sophomore year (and this year, once again) as you had to be reminded of making out with him at a party every time your eyes landed on the poor boy– about the assignment. The truth is, you could just ask Renjun when you got into class, but you also wanted to spare yourself the embarrassment of that action. Through your fling from Freshman year, you learned that you have to work in pairs on a magazine of some sort– and while the assignment still wasn’t clear to you, after Shotaro ended the text message with ‘i’m sorry tho, i already have a partner ://’, you didn’t have enough dignity in you to pry him for any more information.

Clearing your throat as you step inside the classroom with an encouraging slap to your bottom coming from your roommate walking along to her usual class at the end of the hall, you walk over to your seat and put your bag onto the ground, silently sitting on the chair next to the corridor– the thing that makes you the most furious about this whole thing– as you prepare for the next lecture. From what you’ve gathered, the assignment was 70% of your final grade, and you really didn’t feel like failing your most favorite subject, especially if it’s something you could see yourself doing in the future. Working on something like this with someone you’ve hardly ever spoken to was a scary feeling, though. 

The class starts as soon as the noise of footsteps fills your ears, your professor standing at the very front of the classroom announcing her arrival with a heartfelt smile on her face. Sometimes you wonder if it’s her cheery demeanor that makes you like the class so much, but then again, you’ve always been interested in the topic– her character is just a bonus.

“Hello class,” she greets, full of energy despite it only being 8 in the morning, “I decided that instead of following with the lectures today, I will leave you some space to plan out your final project for the class. It has the weight of 70% of your grade, so it’s kind of important, so make sure you plan it well and come up with something original and interesting. The contents are 25-35 pages and you have until the end of the semester to complete it, so I hope you all put in some effort!”

Nods and hums of understatement are shared along the class, the pairs turning to each other in soft murmurs as some even take out a journal to note down all the things they come up with. You think it’s not a bad idea to at least brainstorm a little, but with how awkward you feel at the moment with your project partner sitting right next to you, you don’t think you can start. And the thing is, Jimin told you you could just pick a different partner– but as you look across the filled classroom, you really don’t think working with anyone else is possible, since you don’t have many friends in this class and everyone seems to be paired up already. Huang Renjun is your only choice, and although it doesn’t fill you with relief, you wonder why he chose you, when in reality, he’s the popular one– he has many different choices to pick from. Maybe he was just too lazy to ask anyone else. Who knows.

Clearing your throat again, you avert your gaze from the front of the classroom and try to sneak a look on your seatmate. The platinum blonde hair neatly styled on his head doesn’t fail to make you shocked again, but you figure you must start to get used to it now, because you can’t keep living with the constant urge to stare at the boy just because he dyed his hair. Waiting for him to look at you or give you any sign of the fact that he’s willing to work on the project, you continue your little staring contest with his side profile– it seems like he’s in the mood to ignore you today, so you gotta bring out the big guns and actually talk to him instead.

“So… how do you want to work on this?” you mumble out, nervously bumping your knee up and down. Human interaction isn’t your favorite thing in the world, mainly because you don’t like things you’re not good at– this includes sports, but mainly volleyball, drawing, knitting and mixing drinks as well– but you’d say with full confidence that making friends and talking to new people is truly the worst thing you could ever imagine. 

You notice that your seatmate finally recognised your efforts to spark up a conversation– he rewards you with a shrug of his shoulders as he not only does not look at you, but also decides to lay on the desk instead, closing his eyes as if this was the perfect time for him to catch up on his lost sleep. “Dunno,” he says, “we have plenty of time, let’s not do this right now.”

Blinking a few times at the male, you are once again struck by lightning that is his weird attitude to things. If this was how he behaved with Yunjin, you can’t blame the girl for breaking up with him– everything about the smug look on his face and the fact that he chose to take your favorite seat in the classroom makes your blood boil with annoyance. 

“W-what?” you stutter out, still not quite believing your ears. 

The man doesn’t reply to you– it’s too much effort, it seems– only making you angrier. Why did he even choose you as his partner if he didn’t want to work on the project in the first place? You’re no stranger to procrastination and leaving work for last minute, and you’re also not really a fan of the feeling of stress creeping up your back whenever you give in to the inevitable action of procrastinating; so if it comes to a project that is quite literally 70% of your grade, you would rather not do everything the week before.

Seeing that you’re getting ignored again, you put on your brave face as you fold your hands on your chest, determined to do something about the issue at hand. “Can’t you just put in some effort, man? I’d rather not do this last minute. I know that you probably don’t give a shit, but I do care about my grades, y’know,” you get out, seeing as the man next to you finally straightens his back and looks at you sharply– as if he has any right to point you with the killing look in this dark eyes– before he squints in mock agony.

“Do you really have to be such a fucking perfectionist?” he snaps at you, taking you by surprise. 

This is not how you imagined Huang Renjun to be. Looking at him over the course of the years, more often than not, you always saw the boy with a welcoming smile on his face. Whenever he was around Yunjin, he was all sweet words and gentle touches, erupting laughter whenever he was around his friends. When you were a freshman, somewhere in the back of your brain, you even envied the circle of friends he had around him, daydreaming about fitting in with them when you were lonely at lunch break. That was before you met Jimin at volleyball practice– the extracurricular you lasted in only for a week with the intention of making some friends (at least it worked) – and moved in with her in your second semester when both of your roommates decided to drop out. The girl provided you with undeniable love and care, and while you no longer desired to fit into a circle like Huang Renjun’s, talking to him now makes you feel like a child with crushed dreams.

“I’m sorry?” is all you get out as you stare at him with shock. If you were in a better mood, you would’ve searched through your brain to find a snarky remark to bite back at the boy. It’s too early in the morning and you weren’t prepared for his attitude, though, so you only opt to stare at him as he sighs in what you presume is annoyance– or defeat– as he scatters through his backpack and takes you a notebook, opening it to the first page and clicking his pen he found somewhere in the depths of his bag so he can write with it.

Too taken aback from his sudden change of mind, you wait for him to initiate any other action. You really don’t feel like getting screamed at again, so you chose to play it safe as you watch the man scribble the words Final project at the very top of the paper, underlining it two times and circling it five, the weird ritual making you furrow your eyebrows in confusion.

“25 pages. We split half and half, so you can come up with whatever you want. We can do the design together and I really couldn’t give less shit about who works on the cover, so if you really want to do it, you can. Good?” he says, not once looking at you as he writes the words down on the paper. 

“Amazing,” you bite back with irony, shuffling your chair closer to the table so you can take a look at his notes, “the magazine has to have a coherent theme, though, doesn’t it? If we work on the pages by ourselves and just do whatever, as you said, it’s gonna be shit.”

You chose to accommodate yourself to the pattern of his speech– a habit you always do with new people, but in this situation, what feels the most safe. Seeing the man sigh again, twirling the ballpoint pen in between his fingers, he shrugs at your point and offers you a half-assed solution.

“We can figure that out later.”

Biting back a chuckle at his comment, it’s now your turn to sigh. Why was he being so difficult? Is it really that hard to make an effort on something important, especially when he was the one who said he wanted to work with you in the first place? Shaking your head in disbelief at his actions, you lean back in your chair and take out your own notebook, set on the decision of brainstorming as much as you can, hopefully coming out with some solid ideas you could incorporate in the magazine.

You have no idea what direction Renjun would go with. You don’t know anything about his interests or hobbies, and you surely don’t know what would inspire him or what he would want to write about. And with his new change of persona, you find him even more unreadable than he’s been in the past– and you can’t say you like the way he treats you right now. It seems like his sudden metamorphosis managed to change his brain synapses as well, because this is not the idea of Huang Renjun that you knew until now.

Chewing on the end of your pencil, you take a glimpse of your seatmate. He is messily scribbling something down onto his paper, seemingly realizing that the sooner you start working on this, the better, and with how full his paper seems to be, you wonder if this project won’t be that hard to complete after all.

“We’re doing the cover together,” you mumble out, seeing as the boy tears his eyes off his paper, glaring at you instead.

Almost expecting him to snap at you again, awaiting his suggestion that you will be the one doing all the work, you’re left with an answer that satisfies you with yet another surprise. “If you really insist…”

“Are you really sure you want to do this right now?” Jimin asks you as you put on your shoes at the door, slinging your backpack containing not only your laptop and notebooks, but also snacks just in case you get hungry. Looking at her through the hair falling into your face that you efficiently get out of the way with a poof of breath coming out of your mouth, you chuckle at her distress. The girl’s been watching you get ready for the last 15 minutes, with her robe on and bowl of guacamole in her right palm, eating up on the tortilla chips every once in a while as she squints at you with disbelief.

“Yeah, why not?” you shrug. “If he’s initiating this, I don’t see a problem. Besides, I think that if I don’t take every chance I get, I’ll end up working on the project alone, and I really don’t like that idea.”

Humming in agreement for the first time since you told your roommate that Renjun texted you if you wanted to work on the project today, Jimin motions to the phone sitting at the entryway table next to the front door. “Well, just make sure to text me if anything goes wrong and I’ll come pick you up,” she suggests, making you giggle at her noticeable worry. 

“Okay, mum,” you shake your head in disbelief, finally slugging the backpack over your shoulder and walking out of the door of your apartment. 

The truth is, you can’t really blame Jimin for her over-protective behavior. Ever since you retold her everything that happened that one time in Journalism class, she’s been wary of Huang Renjun. You would agree with all of her arguments of how much of a dick he is when acting like that, but you also don’t really think you have to put more energy into hating him at this moment, since it won’t really help you with your assignment and you don’t have any other choice. You are stuck with a grumpy project partner and that’s how the rest of your semester will go– you just have to learn how to live with his annoying remarks and snarky comments at whatever you say. Who knows, he may be in his ‘hating all women’ era, considering the breakup and all…

You can’t say you weren’t surprised when he added you on Instagram and messaged you about the project this afternoon, though. Considering that you were always the one initiating the talks about the final assignment over the course of the last few weeks, you weren’t expecting him to finally be the one reaching out. You would be stupid to not take him up on the offer, since you don’t know if it will happen ever again– who knows, he might have accidentally smashed his head into something and get a sudden revelation that is only a one time type of situation– and that’s exactly why you responded to him almost immediately (to which you admittedly, got a bit of an ick from yourself) and agreed to meet him at 6 in his apartment.

You were pleasantly surprised to learn that his place was only a 15 minute walk away from yours when he texted you the address, and after a few more minutes of scrolling through his Instagram that was private– and therefore hidden away from your eyes until now– you set yourself on the difficult journey.

Upon arriving at the apartment building, ringing the door bell and texting him to let you in just in case, so he knows it’s you, you start to feel a bit nervous, though. The truth is, you don’t really know what you’re getting yourself into as you walk into the elevator and press the button that takes you to the fourth floor– as he texted you the moment the door to the complex opened– and you think it’s safe to imagine you could be running out of that apartment at any given moment. Maybe Jimin was right and you should’ve taken at least some self-defense tools with you. You never know these days.

Once the elevator door opens and you step outside of the small space, you get prepared to take out your phone again to text him and ask which door leads to his apartment– the right or left– when you’re surprised with the sight of Huang Renjun already waiting for you in the doorway, loose sweatpants, messy hair and all, expecting your arrival.

Clearing your throat, you tightly smile at the male. “Hello.”

“Hi,” is all he responds as he moves away from the door and disappears into the apartment, seemingly thinking you're going to follow him and get inside, no questions asked. You expected at least an invitation to his premises, even a wave of his hand would be nice, you think, but you guess you can’t really have expectations that high when it comes to men– especially if the man in question is the insufferable Huang Renjun.

Taking your shoes off at the entrance– because even though your host doesn’t have good manners, you still do– the figure of Huang Renjun suddenly appears in the doorway of one of the rooms, watching you put the sneakers into a corner that seems to be designated for footwear. Looking up at him with expecting eyes, he finally breaks the awkward silence as he takes a step inside one of the rooms, calling you to go after him.

“We can work here, I guess,” he mumbles, leading you into what you presume is a living room connected to a kitchen– the place is not that big, but you are a broke university student too, so you don’t have it in you to judge. The place is surprisingly clean and adorned with multiple plants all around the corners of the room and windowsills, the only thing out of place being some dishes at the kitchen counter, waiting to be either used or put away, since they look washed. There’s a sofa in the shape of an L in the middle of it all, a TV sitting right opposite of it on a small TV stand, and when you notice an opened laptop on the coffee table, you presume that this is your work station for the day. You half expected him to invite you to his bedroom, but you guess that you can’t really complain– this feels much less awkward anyway. 

Nodding at his words, you move to the sofa and rest your backpack against the foot of it. Taking out your laptop as well, you sit crossed-legged at the soft cushions as you watch Renjun walk over to the kitchen side of the room, opening up a cupboard and taking out two glasses, bringing them to the crowded coffee table alongside with a bottle of soda. You think this is his way of welcoming you in as your guest, but you don’t have it in yourself to thank him– he’s the one being silent all the time anyway. You won’t put effort unless he does.

The boy silently takes a seat opposite of you, but chooses the carpeted floor instead of the sofa– a sight that almost makes you chuckle in amusement when he struggles to fold his legs in the small space– sighing and bringing the laptop closer to himself, rubbing a palm across his face in presumed tiredness. 

“Did you work on the ideas for the articles?” you ask, voice low, as if you were afraid to speak first, now that you’re in his space. “If they’re too different from mine, we can make like… sections… in the magazine… or something like that. But I think it would be easier if they correlated, you know.”

Renjun hums, not giving you many words this time either. He’s always difficult to work with, but today, it irritates you twice as much– maybe because you’ve gone out of your way to meet him at his apartment, when it was all his idea to work on the project today in the first place. Sighing in disappointment, the boy takes it as a hint that you expect more of him than tired hums and silent nods, and so he opens his mouth to speak, soft voice echoing through the silent apartment.

“I did,” he says, “don’t really know what you’re going for, but I have a short list.”

Satisfied with his answer, you nod. “Can I see it?”

Shrugging, he looks around for a while, eyes searching through the place as he finally finds the paper peeking out from the bottom of the coffee table– so much for the seemingly clean space– and offers the A4 format to you, scribbles in blue ink almost unreadable as you squint onto them, bringing them closer to your face. Once your eyes finally get adjusted to his handwriting, you manage to decipher a few of the words he’s written down; some of his ideas are neatly described, yet, some of them are just a simple word that barely gives you any idea of what he truly meant to say.

The difference between more thought-out ideas like ‘Karaoke songs (history, questionnaire of favorites across the campus…)’, ‘The importance of art in education’, ‘How to really use wikipedia’ and simple words like ‘campus’, ‘festivals’ and ‘soccer(?)’ almost makes you laugh out loud, but you note that the boy actually took the time of his day to work on the project like he promised you he would the last time you spoke about it in class, so you can’t really say anything mean to him, for you truly think it would hurt his pride. Nodding as you finish reading over the list, you offer the paper back to him, noticing him watching you with eyes full of undeniable expectancy.

“Satisfied?” he asks, irony seeping through his voice. 

Rolling your eyes at him– because of course he has to be annoying about everything– you choose to not play by his rules, opting to nod instead and let the tiniest bit of irritation show only through your ironic smile as you reply to him. “Very, actually.”

Seeing as he’s satisfied with himself, you choose to continue to lead this meeting with the same energy as to this moment. You think it’s the safest choice, and it’s also what he seems to be comfortable with, so you don’t beat around the bush and speak up again. “I think it won’t be that hard to combine our lists, since our ideas aren’t that different,” you note, cringing at the suggestion that you and the man in front of you actually kind of think alike, “but I think it would be nice if we chose a few topics and wrote about them together. I bet the professor would like to see some articles written by the both of us, so it shows that we actually worked on it together, don’t you think?”

“Not really,” he mumbles under his breath, taking you off guard. See, maybe you got ahead of yourself when you thought that this afternoon might go by smoothly– you forgot for a moment that Huang Renjun enjoys the idea of being a total ass to the people around him (or you, at least) these days. Huffing at his response, you furrow your brows in disbelief.

“Why not?”

“Just… don’t wanna,” he answers shortly, shrugging in nonchalance.

The sight of him in front of you, not even sharing eye contact as he points his gaze towards his laptop, makes your blood boil. What does he even think of himself? You were starting to think that Jimin was right– you should’ve rethought this interaction over and spared yourself the trouble, because this was surely not going anywhere.

“Look, I don’t know what’s gotten into you, but you were clearly the one that told me we were project partners, so I don’t know why you’re being so difficult about this-” you huff, but are instantly cut off by your partner.

“I’m being difficult?”

“Yes,” you jump in, “yes you are! And I don’t get why you even invited me over to work on this, when you clearly don’t have the slightest intention to do so in the first place!” you complete, almost ready to stand up from your place on the light-brown sofa and storm out of his apartment. 

He chuckles at your outburst, rolling his eyes. “Well, I’m sorry I’m not in the mood to work on a stupid project after arguing the whole day on the phone with my cheating ex-girlfriend,” he mutters.

The moment those words come out of his mouth, it seems like the already silent apartment gets even quieter. Staring at him in dumbfoundance, the spark that ignited the anger in you suddenly dies out as you ponder on your next actions. Because what does one do when your project partner suddenly overshares possibly one of the most traumatic and heartbreaking facts about himself so casually, in between snarky comments and a petty argument? Sure, you do feel sorry for him now– because no matter how shitty a person acts to you, nobody deserves to get cheated on– and you suddenly wonder if the whole change of atmosphere in his character isn’t the direct result of this very fact. 

You can’t tell him that you’re sorry– because frankly, you know that Huang Renjun doesn’t want your pity. He doesn’t want to hear that you feel sorry for him and what happened, because you’re not friends and you’re not close enough for you to express such feelings towards him. A question arises in the very same essence, though, making you wonder why he even chose to share this information with you in the heat of the moment in the first place, and even though you could excuse his lack of motivation to work on the project by this fact, it still doesn’t change the reality that he was the one initiating the whole thing, and suddenly, you feel confused. 

He invited you over to work on a project, even though his mood was shitty and he didn’t have the motivation to do so. One would find that ridiculous, but if you really look past the sharp eyes and the bleached mess on his head, you could see the true intention behind his actions– the poor boy just wanted a distraction. And with how empty his apartment seems to be right now– his roommate, Donghyuck (a person that Jimin shares a Finance class with, as you learned this very afternoon) is nowhere to be seen– you only bet you were the last option he had instead of wallowing himself in pity and terror. 

Jimin would argue that you’re stupid for your next actions– you would even agree, because this truly doesn’t feel like you– but still, despite going against yourself in a way, you close the laptop sitting in your lap and reach over to the soda he placed in the middle of the coffee table, pouring yourself a glass. You don’t leave his apartment like you fantasized of doing just a few minutes ago; instead, after downing the sickeningly sweet liquid, the bubbles hurting your throat, you rest your back against the sofa and watch the boy in a new light.

“Okay, let’s not work on the assignment, then,” you calmly say, “wanna watch something on Netflix instead?” you ask, seeing him staring at you with confusion in his expression.

“I don’t-”

“It’s okay if you don’t have it, I can log in with my roommate’s account. She’s probably watching Single’s Inferno right now, but I’ll text her to find something better to do instead,” you don’t let him finish his sentence– because you already know that he’d try to protest to your suggestion– shrugging in nonchalance as you reach over to the TV remote you find sandwiched between the sofa cushions.

Turning the TV on, not even sparing a glance to the grumpy-looking boy sitting on the floor opposite of you, the shuffling of clothes and socked-feet on the ground lands into your ears, a figure taking the remote out of your hand when you can’t figure out how the TV works, a low mumble full of fake offendance masking the shameful, yet clear gratitude in his voice.

You don’t miss it as you look over at him with a tight-lipped smile, though, seeing the Netflix app suddenly come up on the TV, his shoulders relaxing as he settles into the cushions of the sickeningly colored sofa. 

“Of course I have Netflix, what do you think I am, poor?” he grunts.

…and the old Renjun is back.

Arriving at class the next week, you’re finally met with less nervousness than the last few times. After interacting with Huang Renjun more and seeing him break his stone-cold demeanor in front of you as you two watched Netflix– he even made popcorn after the second episode of Unsolved mysteries you decided to watch when you saw the show in his ‘continue watching’ list and gushed about how it’s your favorite (to which he told you that you’re weird, but he’s the one binge watching it too, so you really don’t know why you’re the problem and he's not). Thankfully he doesn’t seem as smug and insufferable as he did before. It’s not like you’re suddenly best friends or anything, but you can feel the ice between you melting with every word he sends your way that isn’t laced with irony– not that there's many of them, since Huang Renjun loves his sarcasm– but it’s progress in your book.

Walking over to your usual seat in the classroom, making your backpack fall to the ground next to your desk with a soft thud, you sit at the chair and take out your things for the class when you notice something standing in the way of your notebook and pencil case in the middle of the table. 

Furrowing your brows in confusion, you move the cup of coffee out of your way, closer to your seatmate’s side. Sighing, you mumble under your breath. “Don’t you have enough space for your things on your side of the table?”

“That’s yours,” he deadpans. Gaze switching between the cup of iced americano from the coffee shop at the corner of the campus (you know it by the plastic cup with their logo on it– it's too tacky for your liking and you even gushed about it to Jimin the day the café opened) and the blonde boy next to you, confusion doesn’t seem to leave your insides as you let out an unfocused hum, showing him that you’re still not following. 

“Do you not like coffee or something?” he hisses, seemingly annoyed at your expression. If you saw yourself in the mirror, maybe you’d understand his frustration– your brows are furrowed and there's a crease in the middle of your forehead from how hard you're racking your brain to come up with answers– but now, you’re just in utter disbelief. Maybe you are a little slow– it’s only 8 in the morning, to your defense– but you really don’t remember bringing coffee to school today. Especially not an iced americano– you don’t like the bitter taste, opting to choose a sweeter drink like a caramel macchiato or the infamous pink drink that Jimin teased you for the last time you got it. So how did this strange cup of coffee end up on your table?

Looking around the space, noticing another half-empty cup of coffee on Renjun’s side of the table, the label on the plastic the same as the cup that was waiting on your side, you finally connect the dots. “Did you get that for me?”

“Yeah,” he nods, not even looking at you as he agrees, taking another sip of his coffee instead. 

Now, you do finally know where the strange cup of coffee came from. Why did Renjun buy you coffee in the first place, though, is still a mystery to you, but you guess with how he’s avoiding your gaze, eyes glued to the white board and an uninterested expression sitting on his face, you think it’s better to not ask him any other follow-up questions. He did something nice for you, and with how your thoughts and rationalization are the only clues you can use in figuring out the reason behind it, you wonder if this was his way of apologizing for being rude to you and thanking you for hanging out with him last week.

“Thanks,” you mumble out instead, smiling at his humming figure that barely acknowledges your spoken gratitude. Taking a sip of the drink, while trying really, really hard not to scowl at the bitter taste, you shift your focus on the class instead, taking notes from time to time. Drinking the coffee as if it was a disgustingly tasting medicine your mother forced you to take when you were little– you hated the taste, but had to get through it anyway– you eventually finish your iced americano somewhere in the middle of the lecture. You feel kind of proud of your acting skills, but there’s also an annoying voice somewhere in the back of your head asking you why you even forced yourself to get through that drink anyway and why is it that you didn’t want to hurt Renjun’s feelings by refusing it in the first place. 

But like anyone in your position would, you shush that voice out of your head.

“Did you finish watching the whole season last week?” you ask instead, suddenly interested in having a conversation with him. After you told Jimin about how your weird hang-out with Renjun went, she practically scolded you for not going home right after he let out the first snarky comment out of his mouth. And maybe she’s right and the whole thing you’re trying to do– but what are you even trying to do in the first place? – makes you seem like you’re out of your mind, but at the end of the day, you did finally progress in watching the TV show after putting it on hold for multiple months because your dear roommate wouldn’t stop begging you to watch all of the seasons of Too hot to handle with you instead, so it’s a win in your book.

“I didn’t,” he replies, his voice quiet enough only for you to hear, not interrupting the rest of the class, “Hyuck, my roommate, didn’t come home until like 11pm and I got too creeped out to watch it alone after you left,” he completes, his face completely serious as he utters out the laughable words.

Chuckling at his response, you see him crack a smile from the corner of your eye. The sight is a rather pleasant one, for you think you've  forgotten how it looks in what seems like ages since the obvious breakup with his girlfriend happened, the reminder of his squinted eyes and full cheeks making you feel accomplished, in a way. “Didn’t think you were the type to get scared so easily,” you tease him.

“Not scared,” he huffs out, offended, “just creeped out. That’s different.”

“Did you wait for your roommate because you were too scared to go to sleep?” you test the waters with more teasing, your tone light and playful.

“No, I waited for him because the last time he got home late and I was asleep, he came home drunk and broke down the door to his room and we had to get it replaced,” he announces, making you cover your mouth with the palm of your hand as you almost burst out into a loud giggle. 

“You know what? Yeah. Valid.”

Your conversation falls silent after that, and it makes your spirit fall for a split second. You don’t even know why you wanted it to continue– you don’t know your seatmate, and frankly, you shouldn’t have the desire to do so in the first place. But the sudden act of service thrown your way, although the coffee was disgusting and he could’ve presented the gift to you in a different, more welcoming way, made you get your hopes up– about what exactly, though? 

Jimin always told you that desperately wanting to be everyone’s friend (despite being socially awkward and kind of nervous around new people), is one of your best and worst qualities at the same time. Best, because it means that you’re nice to people– worst, because you’re nice even to people that don’t deserve your kindness; and you also get too disappointed when people don’t share the same enthusiasm with you. Maybe some friendships are meant to keep at surface level, and if this was the type of relationship you and your project partner are about to have, you’re going to have to let go of that annoying voice in your head that keeps telling you to get deeper than that level.

“Why did you dye your hair, by the way?” you ask him nonetheless, after a few heartbeats of silence, curiosity getting the best of you. The moment this question leaves your mouth, you regret it– thinking you somehow could’ve made the boy uncomfortable, your words annoying to his ears– but instead of rolling his eyes at you or telling you to shut up, he replies instead. The reaction surprises you– he really conditioned you to think that every question of yours is going to be met with spite and tantrum, didn't he?

“Dunno,” he says, shrugging, “they say blondes have more fun, so I think it’s only natural to go blonde when you’re sad. To cancel it out, or something,” he snickers as he looks at you, realizing the implication of his words makes the whole statement kind of embarrassing, his tight-lipped smile being the proof of his internal battle not to cringe at his explanation.

You understand, humming in acknowledgment. You’re just a simple woman, after all– you very well understand the urge to change your hair after a breakup. While it is a visible proof of his mental breakdown, you guess you can’t really blame him for trying to feel like there are things that are under his control; even if it’s just the color of his hair.

Walking along Renjun, the atmosphere is thick and a little awkward. Your bag is heavy on your back and you’re slowly starting to feel a bit of an ugly sting in your bones from it; you mourn the fact that you decided to ask Renjun to walk there with you instead of having to take the bus by yourself, too afraid of getting the address wrong and getting lost along the way. You’d love any kind of transport instead of your own two legs right now, since the walk seems to be never ending and you’re pretty certain that the backs of your feet have calluses from wearing your new shoes that you got from a clearance sale from the Nike store at the corner of the town. 

Clearing your throat, you decide to spark up a conversation. It seems like you always have to be the one to initiate things when it comes to Renjun– it’s kind of ironic, though, when you think of the fact that he was the one that made you be his project partner in the first place.“Why did you wanna do the article about the shelter? I didn’t know you were an animal person,” you hum, testing the waters with a casual question. 

Looking up at you, furrowing his brows, the man offers you an indifferent shrug. “My friend Taeyong works there and he wanted to advertise the shelter a little, so I offered to take pictures for his Facebook page in exchange for me writing the article about it,” he mumbles, “he thinks that would give the shelter more exposure too, but I doubt it. Nobody’s gonna read our fake magazine anyway, it’s just an assignment…”

Humming, you kick the rocks on the pavement, a tight-lipped smile appearing on your face. Huang Renjun must do a lot for his friends, you think. You remember him taking pictures for his friend Xiaoting once– she’s an influencer (a model, if you want) and well known around the campus. When you saw his instagram username in one of the picture descriptions one day, you were surprised at the quality of those shoots (and it also led you to stalking his instagram for a bit, but that’s not the main point of this conversation). You also remember seeing him with his friends Shotaro and Yangyang in a team when it was your school’s annual Sports day (you’d argue that you’re not high schoolers anymore and this day is useless, but your classmates seem to think otherwise) trying his best, despite not really liking sports in the first place– or so you heard and seen from how badly he did in most disciplines except from running– and if that’s not a sign of him doing everything he could just to make his friends happy, you don’t know what is. So to see him doing an article about the animal shelter Taeyong works at, despite being more of a plant person himself, you’re not as surprised as you thought you’d be. He does show affection to his friends, after all– you’re just not one of them to see that side of him often.

Walking some more, you eventually end up in front of a big building painted a light tangerine color, windows decorated with pretty curtains on full display to you. Renjun chimes in like a regular, crossing multiple halls and taking sharp turns before you’re met with the image of a taller man with dark brown hair putting small, pastel colored collars on necks of a few little creatures running around the room, despair clearly written on his face.

“No! Don’t run away, oh god-”

Chuckling at the view of yet another kitten running away from his hands, you admire the fluffy little cats crawling all around the place, your heart quickly softening at the sight of them. It’s been a while since you were around animals yourself– the dog you had back home died the summer before the semester started and you weren’t really in the mood to get a new one, since you weren’t going to be around much anyway. 

When yet another kitten escapes the man’s hold, you find yourself watching Renjun as he crouches to the floor and swiftly takes one into his hands, walking closer to the man with collars in his hands, grinning to himself. “Here you go.”

“Man, the cats hate me… where did you two get here?” he shakes his head in disbelief, putting a collar onto the small cat before he pets it on its tiny head.

“Just a minute ago,” Renjun says, “is that one Poppy?” he asks, reading the name tag dangling from the little band around its head, affection filling his words.

“Now it is. I got confused when they all started running around,” he shrugs, sighing as he looks around the room, counting the last few kittens that needed their collars. His eyes soon land on you, a welcoming smile spreading on his boxy lips. “Hey! I’m Taeyong. You must be Y/N.”

“Nice to meet you,” you smile, trying to make yourself seem as nice as possible. You don’t know what Renjun told him about you, but if they were bad things, you only hope to undeceive the man with your warm attitude. 

Renjun then puts the kitten down, and while you’d expect it to run away from him and join its siblings in the corner of the room, the creature does quite the opposite– it stays by his side and lays on the ground close to him, making even Taeyong himself gasp at the image. “Wow,” he snickers, “you should start coming here every time I need to put these on them, you’re like a cat whisperer.”

While the two of them chat, you stay a little behind, not really wanting to intrude. You take off the heavy bag and take out your camera, deciding to take a few pictures of the shelter instead, so you can say you worked on the interview with him. You think it’s expected of you, since he asked you to come along despite being absolutely fully capable of doing the interview with his friend alone, so you do your work and zoom in on the two of them talking, snapping a few quick pictures. 

After a while, you take a seat on the ground– being the infamous enjoyer of sitting on the hard surface of it, earning yourself a lot of scolding screams from your mother growing up– and fully take in the interior. The walls are the same light tangerine color as the outside ones, and there’s a little enclosure in the corner of the room that would surely make Taeyong’s job much easier if only he had used it. There are bags of cat food in the other corner of the room, and while the shelter doesn’t look very modern or fancy, you think it’s kinda homey and welcoming. You bet kids would love it here– with the colorful atmosphere and the smiley worker running around catching kittens, and after a while of taking pictures of everything your eyes land on, you find your inner child healing, little by little.

The truth is, you always wanted a cat. But you were never able to get one, because your mother hates them. No matter how hard you tried, no matter how many times you petted strays on the street and begged her to take them home, you never won this battle– so you had to settle on a dog. And don’t get me wrong, you loved your dog, but at the end of the day, you knew you were more of a cat person anyway.

Reaching forward a little, noticing the kitten waddling your way, you think of petting it– it quickly jumps out of your reach, though, too scared of your touch, and you’re left frowning, the bubble bursts at the rejection from the small ball of fluffiness.

“Taeyong?” you hear a voice of a woman call from the door, the man swiftly turning to her with brows raised in question. “They need your help with the big dogs. They keep dragging Yeri on the leash and she’s too weak to get them to their cages.”

“Oh,” the man deadpans, scratching his neck for a bit before he turns to Renjun again, escaping the room in one swift motion, “I’ll be right back!”

The room falls silent after that, no longer having the background noise of their conversation playing as you observe the animals. You feel the atmosphere growing thicker again, and as time passes by, you find yourself taking short glances at your project partner, wondering what’s on his mind. One moment, he’s crouching down and petting the cats that come his way, the other, he is gazing out of the window with a soft frown that takes over his features like a dark shadow, and you wonder when this expression really settled into his face and made itself the default, and why is it not willing to leave. Not really knowing what to say or what to do to make the boy that’s still so out of your reach feel any better, you opt for silence, even though it does get quite heavy and thick over time– and the truth is, you don’t even know why you notice yourself feeling this way so often around him, when all he’s done was give you the cold shoulder so often and then offer you an iced americano you don’t even like in the first place.

Minutes pass and the silence slowly makes your ears ring; you desperately try to find a good solution in your brain– create a script where hanging out with Renjun is easier and less nerve-wrecking– but still, there’s nothing and you’re left with the awkwardness and hesitance. Sighing when another kitten escapes your grasp, you put your hands into your lap and give up on the task, settling on just watching them instead– there was no use in you trying to pet one when all it wanted to do was run away from you.

Watching the group of fluff jumping at each other and sleeping all around the room, your focus only shifts when there’s a kitten suddenly thrusted into your point of view, its big blue eyes staring you down making you awe. You wonder how it got there in a moment of full stupidity before you look up and see your project partner, the cat magnet himself, holding the cat up to you, waiting for you to take it into your hold and pet it. Gazing at him with mouth agape in confusion, he slowly puts the cat into your lap, petting the creature when it settles, and takes a seat opposite of you all in the span of a few seconds, the action making you smile uncontrollably.

“They’re adorable, aren’t they?” he mumbles, watching as you pet the kitten in your lap, cooing at the soft fur. There’s a hint of you that desperately wants to adopt it once you finally pet the small cat, but you know that it wouldn’t be a smart idea– animals are banned at dorms and you don’t think you’d have enough energy to take care of another living creature right now anyways.

“They are,” you hum, “I always wanted one.”

“Why didn’t you get one, then?”

“My mum doesn’t like them very much,” you mumble, pouting at the small creature in your hold, as if to apologize for the words coming out of your mouth.

He hums in acknowledgement, picking up another kitten that waddles his way, putting it up on his thigh– his body now sitting cross-legged on the floor. Watching as the animal crawls up his body and tickles him with its claws, soft laughter erupts out of him, making you smile unconsciously at the boy. 

“I’m not really into animals that much,” he says, further proving your earlier claims. See– in some ways, Renjun is easy to read. Just by looking at him, you could tell he’s not a fan of sweet beverages; you can tell he enjoys black coffee– just like the one he brought you that day– and herbal teas, perfectly matching the image of him in your head that’s surrounded by plants rather than animals, just the bit of greenery you saw around the kitchen very clearly still alive and thriving making you believe you are correct in this assumption as well. One can say a lot about a person by the way they dress, and with Renjun’s casual, yet cozy attire, you can tell he dresses for himself, choosing comfort over style, but still looking effortlessly put together at the same time. You would never strike him as someone that makes spontaneous decisions, rather being more focused on a plan, so to see him dye his hair so randomly is a sign of the fact that there’s something crumbling inside of him– a sense of security, maybe a feeling of stableness– that he tries so hard to grasp. 

“They are into you, though,” you giggle when the kitten purrs at his touch, pointing at the cross-eyed creature. 

“What can I say,” he shrugs, “I guess I’m that irresistible.”

There aren’t many opportunities for you to laugh at his jokes. Mainly because he doesn’t make many, but also because you always notice them being self-deprecating, and you don’t want to support that idea in his head. At this one, though, you send him a soft chuckle and a roll your eyes, showing how you seemingly think the idea is ridiculous and his joke is corny, but deep inside knowing that you resonate with his words.

In a moment of selfishness– an indulgence you try to mask by the fact that you came here because of the assignment and this was your job in the first place– you take your camera and snap a picture of the boy in front of you, his hands holding the small kitten up in air and snickering when he sees you pointing the lens to him in order to capture him playing with the creature. You don’t know what it is that makes your heart warm up at the image that comes up on the screen shortly after, but you figure that’s a problem of future you and there’s no use in pondering about it now.

You don’t know how many minutes pass with just the two of you playing with the kittens, but when Renjun takes his phone out of his pocket and checks the time, you furrow your brows before he hums. “He’s taking so much time,” he says, sighing. 

All while playing with the fuzzy small balls, you didn’t even notice the time passing by so quickly. You don’t know how much time it’s been, but you assume it could be more than 35 minutes of the two of you left alone in the room, Taeyong seemingly too overwhelmed with the shelter responsibilities.

“Maybe we should go,” he offers, catching you off guard.

“Oh,” you hum, “well, maybe. But you haven’t even done an interview with him yet,” you mumble, your hands lost in the soft fur of the kitten still laying in your lap.

“I can just send him the questions to his email. Perhaps, I’m sure you’ve taken more than enough pictures of the kittens for his Facebook page,” he snickers, shrugging, “I don’t see why we should be staying here if he’s busy, we’re only putting more work on him.”

“I- I mean…” you mumble, trailing off at the end. You don’t really wanna say goodbye to the kittens, the healing in your heart not quite done yet, when the boy next to you laughs at what you presume is your emotions showing clearly on your face.

“Unless you wanna play with them more, of course. We can stay a little longer, then.”

The autumn season slowly fades into winter, time passing by quicker than you could even grasp. The shock and surprise of having to work on the lengthy project with Renjun morphs into a feeling of ordinarity, getting used to his mood slowly shifting from reserved and irritated to a one more pleasant, full of hesitant smiles and soft words when he notices you feeling down or disappointed with yourself, and a one more close to a brother-like teasing when he watches you arrive to his apartment to work on things. One would say you hit it off, your energies matching as you slowly get to know the boy, but still, there’s a hint of something inside of you that makes you grow nervous around him whenever he is too close to your figure, your body falling limp and your brain working on overdrive. You wonder if it’s the sheer fact of simply not being fully used to his presence; while Jimin says you’re down bad for the man. She’s wrong– or at least you’re convinced that she is– and that’s why you simply think the uncertain feeling of uneasiness that settles in your bones sometimes is the effect of the fact that you never truly know what to expect when you arrive at Renjun’s place.

Some days, when you arrive, there’s a mess waiting for you in the living room, where you usually work on the project with Renjun. There are pots and pans with dried food everywhere and your partner’s hands are foaming with washing liquid when he opens the door for you, and you giggle at the sight. Other days, the apartment is full of people you don’t know and Renjun has to throw them out with a scream saying that the group was supposed to leave two hours ago, and when you come on weekends, he lets you in wearing sweatpants and bed hair, as if he spent the whole day in his sheets. Dare you say, this is your favorite version of him– his eyes are half-lidded and he moves slowly, even his remarks aren’t as harsh as they tend to get. Jimin once argued and told you that you two don’t even need to meet that often for the sake of the project– and on a weekend as well– but you’d say it adds to the value of the magazine if you two can get opinions out of each other and review each other’s writing in real time. 

Some days, his roommate is home, and that’s when you join Renjun in his room so you two get a bit of privacy (not that you’re doing anything that requires privacy. His roommate Donghyuck is just very nosy and he keeps asking you questions you don’t have the time and energy to answer). 

Today is one of these days, with his energetic roommate roaming the halls of the apartment, but this time, you two don’t hide away in the comfort of Renjun’s small, yet very organized room. Sitting in the living room of his and Hyuck’s shared apartment, your bottom meeting the carpeted floor instead of the cushions of their couch, your laptop screen darkening when you don’t work on the device for some time and it puts itself to sleep mode. The reason for said action is your attention being somewhere completely else– on Donghyuck’s figure trailing in and out of the room, each time wearing a different outfit than before.

“What about this one, Y/N? Do I look good?” he asks, posing like a model that didn’t pass an audition in any modeling agency, their dream of flashing a smile on the title pages of Vogue fading out of their sight.

You burst out laughing at the weird combination. You don’t remember Donghyuck ever being bad at fashion from the few times you've met him before he left their apartment to attend a party or go to class– you’re quite certain that his habit to always tuck in his shirts into his skinny jeans, the stylistic choice showcasing his long legs making not one, but many girls, boys and others salivate over him. But when seeing him in a tragic combination of cowboy boots and a cow-print shirt, you can’t help but giggle.

“Hyuck, now you’re just taking the shit. That’s your Halloween costume from last year,” the boy next to you on the ground whines, running his hands through his hair in despair.

“Okay, but what if I really want to wear it?” he asks all innocent, his roommate now faking a cry in response, “besides, I was asking Y/N, so you shut your mouth.”

“I think it’s great,” you nod, wiping the corner of your eyes from the stray tears that fall off from the laughter you’ve been doing at the interaction. Your assignment was long forgotten the first moment Donghyuck decided to pay you a visit in the living room, starting with shitting on his professor for making him study on a weekend (which you argued that he could’ve started with earlier in the week, to which he glared at you and asked if he looks like a nerd), and then proceeding to do everything but study– starting with making a smoothie in the living room– while efficiently making so much noise with the mixer every time Renjun spoke up, annoying the short male– to giving you a make-shift fashion show.

“Do you want me to embarrass myself? See, I wore this to test if you were being genuine, but I see now that you’re on Renjun’s side,” he scoffs, shaking his head in disbelief and escaping the living room, making you burst out laughing even more as you hear the door to his room shut with a loud thud.

He’ll come back soon– you’re sure of it.

And you’re right. After Renjun manages to let out a loud noise of despair at the fact that he has to live with someone like Lee Donghyuck– not only now, he complains about it every other day, when the latter drags him to parties only for him to be the designated driver for the night and get him home safely, or how he makes him pay for dinner he orders for the both of them without asking– the other man joins you in the living room again, now dressed casually in sweatpants and a loose shirt.

“Okay, the fashion show’s over. I think I’ll go with the first outfit, just by the way, because it matches my eyes,” he says, quite seriously, to which Renjun only sighs.

“Hyuck, your eyes are brown.”

“Okay and?”

“That what you wore was– you know what, never mind…” Renjun shakes his head as he stops himself mid-sentence, making you snicker at the mental image of the outfit Donghyuck’s talking about, because frankly, Renjun is right with his frustration. The shirt his roommate wore was blue, and while it didn’t clash in the slightest, it surely didn’t match the brown depth of Donghyuck’s orbs, and that’s what makes the whole thing that much funnier.

Turning your head around to watch Renjun’s roommate moving through the kitchen area, opening up the fridge and pouring himself a glass of milk– you don’t even dare to question him anymore– you ask. “What is the occasion anyway?”

“Jisung’s birthday party,” he mumbles, taking a sip, “you know Park Jisung, right?”

“Never heard of him,” you shake your head, seeing as the man widens his eyes at you with surprise.

“No? Well, you’re gonna get to know him soon, then,” he says, shrugging.

“That sounds like a threat,” you giggle, “what do you even mean?”

To that, Donghyuck shifts his eyes to his roommate sitting next to you on the ground, shrugging. “Well, I assumed you were invited…” he says, grinning to himself.

The man next to you audibly sighs– what is the reason behind his frustration this time, you truly do not know, but with Renjun, there’s always something getting on his nerves. He has a problem with having his anger in control sometimes.

Furrowing your eyebrows at the proposition, you shake your head. “Why would I be invited to Park Jisung’s birthday party?”

“Because it’s quite the event! Park Jisung’s turning into an adult, and to that, he’s throwing a big party, which means friends of friends of friends are invited,” he says, as if it was the most matter-of-fact information you’ve ever heard, “and since you’re a friend of a friend, I’d assume you get a pass.”

Shrugging, you mutter. “Well, I wasn’t invited,” you add, not paying the whole party much thought. 

The man squints his eyes at the two of you, eyes drifting from one figure to the other, humming to himself as if he was lost in thought. “Okay, then…” he mysteriously mumbles under his breath before downing the glass and putting it into the sink, completing his visit by exiting the living room.

“Would you come back and wash your dishes after yourself?” Renjun yells into the depths of the apartment, a sneaky remark being thrown his way almost immediately.

“No, thank you!”

And after watching the interaction, you come to the conclusion that if you were living with Lee Donghyuck, you'd turn kind of crazy too. You can’t even blame Renjun anymore. Truth be told, though, you didn’t get much work done that Saturday, and you think his sheer presence might be the reason why.

“What do you think?” you ask, turning your laptop towards Renjun, the two of you currently sitting in the library, working on your project. Originally, you had planned to go to your place– but Jimin texted you last second that she has a guy over, and Renjun said his roommate has a gathering of some sort at his apartment, so you settled on the comfort and silence your university library provides. Not a lot of people are here during this time of the year; the exam season isn’t that close yet and no one’s panicking about last-minute studying, so only a few responsible students are currently scattered across the spacious room on the second floor, working on their essays. You bet they’re humanities students– they always have the most shit to do when it comes to essays. You study Journalism, but your roommate is a Sociology major, and you don’t think you’ve ever seen anyone write as many essays as Jimin in a single semester.

What you’re showing Renjun is an opened Microsoft Publisher document, your shared magazine shining from the blue light of the screen. Renjun sent you his copy of the pages he’s done with the animal shelter interview, and as you were looking at the columns of text and off-centered pictures, the perfectionist in you woke up and forced you to fix the tiny mistakes that didn’t escape your eye.

“It’s different,” he hums, eyebrows furrowing as he examines the two-page spread, resting his head on his hand, plopped up on his elbow, and pushing his rimmed glasses further up his nose bridge. “Did you change anything?”

“I just… played around with it a little,” you mumble, afraid of what he thinks. As far as you know, he could flip out any second and scream at you for doing his work when it was perfectly fine the way he sent it to you– at least the Huang Renjun you met a few weeks ago would certainly do that– and so you don’t think it’s that unexpected of you to be so nervous about his opinion.

“This picture wasn’t here before,” he says, pointing to one of the pictures you neatly slotted into the corner of the page– it was one of your favorites, you must admit with severe embarrassment– with Renjun holding up a baby kitten, looking at it with softened eyes. When you looked at the page spread he sent you the other day, you couldn’t believe he didn’t add that picture. Something about it being your favorite– finding yourself admiring it when you look through the pictures on your camera’s SD card– was enough to make you think it’s surely his favorite as well. It didn’t matter that it didn’t really fit the professional aura the whole spread radiates. For you, the magazine wasn’t complete without including it– think of that what you will.

“It was asymmetrical without it, so I had to add it…” you say, scratching the back of your neck. That’s a partial lie– you could make it work if you moved the pictures around a little bit, but Renjun doesn’t have to know that.

He hums, eyes scanning over the text, shrugging. “It’s nice. As long as you didn’t change the text part, I don’t mind,” he says, relief making your shoulders slouch down, not even noticing how tense you’ve become, “I actually got bored while working on this, so I get that it didn’t really look nice before. Thanks,” he completes, offering you a soft smile as he takes a sip of the black americano sitting on the desk.

“Good,” you nod, shaking off the nervousness from before, “okay.”

Scrolling through the document, moving a few things around, adding better punctuation here and there, the number of pages is still not hitting the criteria for your final grade. That’s okay– you still have a lot of time to complete the magazine and you still have plenty of ideas. To execute them is another thing, but you’re sure you’ll find a way.

“What about your interview?” Renjun suddenly asks, almost making you jump up from the surprise that is created by his voice suddenly cutting through the silence of the library.

“What about it?” you hum, looking at him. His hair is a little tousled– he’s been putting in way less work than you today, laying on the table occasionally when you don’t show him anything on your laptop for a while, acting more as your company than a help. It looks like the coffee on his table is the only thing keeping him awake, and you suddenly feel a little bad for insisting on working on the project even though your initial plans of doing it at your place fell through, because he seems to be exhausted.

“Well, I did the shelter, so you should do something too,” he says, shrugging, “or do something similar, you know… I think it would be nice to have you write about something from a reporter's perspective.”

“Oh,” you nod, “well, I dunno… I had a few ideas, but it’s…”

“Hm?” he motions for you to talk when your voice drifts out, eyes looking at you with patience and genuine interest. The change of demeanor that’s been happening with him lately slightly shocks you, but you welcome the new character in him with open arms. Still, it doesn’t mean you don’t get a little hesitant around him whenever he shows you this side of him– you don’t really know how to react, or what to expect of him anymore. It’s like walking on eggshells, but you can’t say you hate the strange anticipation.

“Well, it’s stupid, but…” you start, seeing him roll his eyes at the beginning of your proposition, “my favorite writer is doing some sort of a fan sign slash q&a thing in the local library next week. She’s coming out with a new book, and I think it would be nice to get an interview with her, but she’s probably very busy and everything, so that won’t work out.”

Looking at Renjun, feeling shy of the sudden revelation of hopes and dreams, you chew on your bottom lip in anticipation. The range of answers he could give you is truly big– he could laugh at you, tell you to go alone, or he could tell you that it’s a stupid idea, a boring one, even, or he could be supportive– the least likely response, you think. Sharing your idea with him makes you a little hesitant again, feeling a little naked in front of him, and you even avert your gaze towards your laptop and aimlessly scroll through the document to avoid his gaze, to seem more nonchalant and not at all bothered by his lack of words, when he gives you a tired hum.

“Well, you could at least do an article about the library, then. To advertise sustainability, and all… And kids these days don’t read much, so I think it’s nice to talk about it,” he says, once again folding over the table and burrowing his face in the space between his folded arms and his chest, half sitting, half laying down on the furniture, “wanna go next week? Maybe we can catch that writer of yours.”

Allowing yourself to look at him, relief once again washing over you at the acceptance, you can’t help but smile at his slurred words of affirmation. “I mean, I’m down…”

Doubting you could get the interview– not even trying to reach out to the writer, already setting yourself up for the expected failure– you make plans to visit the library the said day with Renjun anyway. You’ll get your camera and maybe get some nice shots, maybe ask around for an interview from one of the nice, old librarians instead. It’s not a bad idea, and it fits the vibe of your magazine quite nicely.

Who knows, maybe you could even get your book signed. Doesn’t hurt to try.

You think it was safe to say that you didn’t expect to see a text message pop up on the screen of your phone one afternoon, the black letters shining darkly on the bright screen with a hesitant, yet a little hurried invitation to Park Jisung’s birthday party. The whole interaction you had about it with Renjun and Hyuck was awkward, and so to see getting an invitation for yourself the day of the said event was a shocking concept, leaving you scrambling your things from various places of your apartment and putting them into a handbag before getting dressed for the occasion. 

Quickly learning that Lee Donghyuck is a man of his word– meaning that he never lies, especially when it comes to big parties– your mouth hangs open when you arrive to the address Renjun texted you in the afternoon, the big mension-like building full of people you’ve never seen before, leaving you to acknowledge that friends of friends of friends must have been invited to fill up the whole place, since it’s not possible for poor Park Jisung to know everyone at his birthday party. The fact makes you feel less special; the invitation not really making you feel like you were wanted there, the place breaking in its seams making you internalize a thought that you were there just to fill up the blank spaces and Renjun invited you only for the sheer fact of needing a lot of people for his friend’s party. A little disappointed, yet, still kind of amazed at the size of it all, you walk out of Jimin’s car– she offered to drive you there– and hesitantly set your foot to the  grass that divides the land from the sidewalk. 

Feeling a little lost, turning your head in various directions to try to find anyone you’d know– Huang Renjun being the best alternative, since he was the one who invited you, after all– you start to feel a little out of place when no one pays you any attention and the loud music filling your ears only acts as a distraction that slowly makes you oversaturated with stimulus. Just when you go to take your phone out of your bag to call either Renjun or your roommate to come back to pick you up and drive you to the safety of your apartment, a hand lands on your shoulder and makes you turn around in your tracks, a strange sense of comfort enveloping your insides when you see the short blonde peeking at you from under his carelessly styled bangs, a grin sitting on his face. “You’re here!”

“Yeah. I told you I’d come…?” you mumble, observing Renjun’s sudden enthusiasm at your arrival, letting the man drag you inside of the building. 

You’d be lying if you said you didn’t feel all the eyes of the guests on you. While you were a stranger to all of them, you are almost certain the popular Huang Renjun was one of the more known people of the bunch, catching attention of multiple friends of his and also friends of their friends, and suddenly, the feeling of his touch on your wrist as he drags you inside makes your skin burn, your brain almost overheating when you realize this might as well be the first time you’ve had any sort of physical contact with the male. Fixing your gaze on his back, enveloped in an oversized leather jacket, you start to wonder if he’s drunk.

“Do you want anything to drink?” he asks, finally turning back to you when you arrive in the spacious kitchen. You wonder if this house is rented, or if Park Jisung’s one of the wealthy kids in the town. You truly have no knowledge on the man, and when you hesitantly look around the room, trying to sort out what alcohol they have in store– while mentally thinking of what would make you the least hammered, considering your low alcohol tolerance– you feel Renjun’s eyes glued to you, heat inevitably rising to your cheeks. “What’s that in your hand?” he asks, making you jump out of your haze.

“Oh,” you stutter, “I brought a birthday gift for Jisung,” you mumble, seeing Renjun’s glossy eyes blink at you a few times, his lips suddenly twitching up in amusement. In this moment, you think he truly must be drunk, his fingers reaching towards the gift bag in your left hand as he peeks inside, noticing the handwritten card and a box of chocolates you brought to the boy you’ve never seen before. Your project partner cracks up as he puts the bag away to the corner of the room.

“You’re too sweet for this world,” Renjun giggles as he looks back at you, making you widen your eyes in surprise at the affectionate words falling off his tongue.

“Why?”

“Nobody actually expected you to bring a gift, you know,” he says as he walks through the half-empty kitchen, eyes roaming over the solo cups filled with alcohol, “you don’t even know him. Half the people here don’t know him and I’m pretty sure half of his actual friend group didn’t give him anything.”

“Oh,” you blink, suddenly feeling stupid. “Well, I didn’t want to seem rude…” you sheepishly mumble, scratching the back of your neck in hesitance. Maybe you did go a little overboard– nobody can really blame you, though. You’re not a big party goer, and since it’s someone’s birthday, you only assumed it’s socially expected of you to bring a gift. And it’s Renjun’s friend, on top of that– one would say you wanted to give off a good impression, as his plus-one to the party, whatever that means. If you were considered that, to be exact– with the amount of people here, though, you were starting to feel a little lost in the situation.

“See, you’re too sweet,” he says, shrugging,  eyes still fixated on the kitchen counter as he seemingly searches for a specific drink. Arm motioning towards one of the red solo cups, he suddenly turns to you and offers you the contents, smiling. “He loves chocolate, though, so that gift’s gonna be his favorite. Well, if it even gets to him in this whole mess… rum and coke?” he asks, and without much thought, you eagerly take the cup from his hand, nodding.

“Thanks,” you say, tasting the alcohol on your tongue. You don’t tell him that rum and coke is your biggest enemy– not because it tastes bad, quite the opposite, actually. You enjoy the mixture too much for you to control yourself sometimes. You can only pray that you don’t get too loose tonight.

The man’s eyes stay strangely glued to your figure as you sip from the cup, and you almost open your mouth to tease him about it– or ask if there’s something on your face, either or– when there’s a chant coming out of one of the rooms outside, incoherent screams slowly forming into one recognisable word– a name, to be exact– the voices calling Park Jisung, tonight’s birthday boy. Renjun’s eyes widen at that, his body moving fast as he tugs you by your hand again, almost spilling your drink in the process, your figure suddenly standing in a living room seemingly bigger than your whole apartment, the sight in front of you making you laugh.

A tall, lanky boy is thrown up in the air by the arms of multiple men– one of which you recognise to be Hyuck– as the whole room chants Jisung's name, the sight  a little comedic in your eyes. Rose tint settles on Park Jisung's face as the whistling only gets louder, a few phones with the flash turned on pointed to his face, the moment captured in time. You wonder what the boy did in his life to get this amount of popularity, but you can only imagine that, as one would say, this could very well be a core memory for him. You only turn adult once in your life, and for some reason, the thought of Park Jisung doing so surrounded by his friends that threw him perhaps the biggest birthday party in the history of your university campus, you get a little emotional for him. Maybe Renjun was right with you being too sweet for this world– in this moment, though, you think you’re too soft instead.

After a while, the men get tired of holding up his weight and the boy slowly comes down from the high, the hollering getting more quiet as it turns into the birthday song, making you join in with the singing. The thought of being an outcast, just a random person in the crowd slowly seeps away when you feel included in the moment, worry leaving you as you watch Donghyuck– the biggest hype man of his friends, or so it seems– shake the birthday boy vigorously by his shoulders before he lets go and plants a sloppy kiss to his cheek, which leads to the two of them chasing each other around the crowded place.

Watching the whole scene unfold right in front of your eyes, you find yourself gazing at Renjun from the corner of your eye, the bright grin on his face making your heart squeeze in a weird way. He seems so happy in this moment, dragging you from room to room excitedly as if he was a regular in this place, the joy of celebrating his friend making his flushed face glow in a healthy way. You got used to seeing his face clouded in a shadow; the worried crease in between his eyebrows and the darkness under his eyes regular visitors in his expression, so to see him seep in the ugly orange lights of the luxurious house tugs at your heartstrings in a way you choose to not recognize or name. 

“Y/N!” you hear your name screamed from somewhere in the room, making you tear your eyes away from the man standing by your side. Looking at the source of the yell, you find Lee Donghyuck striding towards you with his long legs, the action almost threatening, yet, his face beams in an excited aura.

“Hyuck!”

“You came!” he yells back in the same energy as last time, although his body is now only a few steps away from you, making you giggle. You recognise his outfit to be one of the multiple he showed you back at their apartment before he started acting all silly, the memory making you laugh in fondness.

“I did!” you nod, “I got invited,” you say, voice almost sounding proud of the achievement. 

“Yeah, I know,” he says as his eyes drift from you to Renjun, his eyebrows wiggling suggestively before he earns himself a punch to the shoulder from his roommate, a sharp, over-exaggerated scowl escaping his lips at the motion. “Come meet Jisung!” he quickly switches up the topic, dragging you along with himself like a rag doll in an instance. He must be drunk; you think. 

You wonder why you keep being dragged around the house– maybe it’s a sign that you’re too weak and should probably start working out more so you can stand your ground. Nonetheless, you follow the man as you look around, as if to apologize to Renjun for leaving him, when you see the blonde following you to the small group in the corner of the living room, recognising them to be the ones holding up Jisung just a few minutes prior. 

“Jisung! This is Y/N!” Donghyuck utters out as soon as you get to the small gathering, all eyes suddenly glued to you. You wouldn’t say it made you feel comfortable or even invited– quite the opposite, to be honest– but the man that was addressed cutely turns to you, a shy smile plastered on his face when he greets you.

“Ah! Hello!”

You doubt Park Jisung even knows who you are. You doubt any of these people do– with how they’re looking at you in examination, but you still bite through it as you force a smile on your face. “Happy birthday,” you say to him, earning yourself a bright smile from the recipient.

“Thanks!” he beams. “You’re Renjun hyung’s friend, right?” he asks  in response, almost making you choke on your spit in surprise at the fact that the boy knows who you are, which leads you to believe that you were talked about in this circle before.

“Sort of,” you nod, forcing out a giggle.

“Sort of?” the annoyed voice of Huang Renjun himself fills your ears from your right, making you jump up at the proximity of him that you weren’t aware of before, the mock offense on his face making you giggle when you think of the remorse he treated you with when you first met. He looked like he never wanted to speak to you in his life, and now he’s acting offended at you not fully calling him your friend? Yes, you did that to spite him– because if you weren’t friends, you truly don’t know what you were even doing here in the first place– but you still think the whole thing is a little ironic. “You’re at our house at least once a week and we’re not friends in your eyes?” 

“Well, that’s only because I have to,” you argue, when the man only shakes his head at you in disbelief.

“Okay, you’re not allowed to eat our snacks when you come over anymore,” he says, shrugging in nonchalance. Laughing, you find yourself looking over the group you’re standing with, the discomfort slowly fading away when you engage in conversation with Renjun. You catch a few names you can’t really place to their respective faces– mainly because Jisung was the only one formally introduced to you– when you notice a girl staring at you in examination, her figure not noticed by you before. 

The longer you stare at her, the longer you start to recognise her, and before you let panic overtake you– in all honesty, you don’t even know why you’d panic at this fact– you realize it’s none other than Huh Yunjin, your friend’s ‘cheating ex-girlfriend’ looking at you with something resembling spite in her eyes, her jaw clenched and her look glazing from your outfit to your face, as if mentally scoring you on your attractiveness, judging every detail of your body, all while a tall boy hugs her to his side– whom you presume is her new boyfriend.

He looks nothing like Renjun– he is quite the opposite, if you really think about it– and even though you tear your eyes away from her figure, your brain still screams at you with arguments that you look nothing like her; even though it shouldn’t really matter. You’re not Huang Renjun’s new girlfriend– not even the object of his desire, or the new girl by his side– you’re just his project partner, a classmate he’s grown to calling a friend, but still, you can’t help but notice her radiating beauty, the outshining features on her face and the charismatic aura she radiates– the polar opposite to everything you’d describe yourself as; and the comfort you felt while talking with Renjun’s friends is suddenly swept under the carpet, long forgotten when you still feel her eyes burning through your skull, her gaze making you like an intruder, someone who’s not supposed to be here, someone who doesn’t belong. 

And to make things even worse, you suddenly feel Renjun’s hand around your waist, and when your eyes lock with his you swear you see a hint of understatement in them, something that lets you know that he’s aware of his ex girlfriend’s burning stare; his protective side kicking in, yet still making you question the matter even more.

You bet he did it to soothe you. You can even clearly read his intentions in the warm smile he sends you when he squeezes your side, hugging you closer to himself, but the more you’re aware of his burning palm on your flesh, the more uncertain you become, the less engaged in the conversation you get, and the more uncomfortable you feel under the orange lights of the living room.

“Wanna go outside? I’m pretty sure they have a karaoke machine there, if you wanna play,” you feel Renjun whisper into your ear, his warm breath hitting your skin, the hint of vodka in it supporting your earlier claims and that he was at least a little tipsy after all. 

Nonetheless, you nod and find him leading you outside, not before you turn around to look at Yunjin for one last time, though, seeing clear jealousy shading her expression; making you wonder if you were invited just because she was too, and if you just fulfilled your designated role for the night.

“Are you sure you don’t mind?” you ask, looking at your companion as the two of you sit on the stairs outside of the university building, your bags carelessly placed at your feet. It’s getting quite dark out, the winter days still being insanely short even though it’s the middle of February and spring is slowly approaching the town. The two of you had worked on your assignment in the library before Renjun told you that he has to wait for his friends Jeno and Donghyuck to pick him up, since they are meeting up with their friends from high school, their friend group living out of town requiring the two of them to take a drive there.

“Of course not,” Renjun shakes his head, “I offered to drop you off, so why would I mind?” 

“What about your friends–”

“If they have anything against it, I’ll make sure to choke them, so don’t worry about that,” Renjun softly laughs at his own joke, trying to ease you. Still, there’s something inside of you that makes the atmosphere heavy and thick, having you crack your knuckles as you sit in silence, chewing on your bottom lip from nerves.

“What’s up? You’ve been acting weird lately,” Renjun hums, looking at you from his place on your left. 

You tried hard to mask your hesitance, especially because you think the worries inside of you are stupid, but you can’t help but feel a hint of discomfort whenever you think of Jisung’s birthday party. Sure, you had a great time– his friends were nice to you, Hyuck even dramatically sang a song at the karaoke with you when Renjun got tired, the two of you taking shots together when you were done. You danced with Renjun after, the music keeping you close, and when you got tired, he walked you home. Everything felt normal between you– except from the weird closeness and occasional touches he sent your way– but you presume that was the effect of alcohol, so you didn’t ponder on it that much.

The eyes of his ex girlfriend on you the whole evening is what made you feel a bit itsy about the situation, and even though there was no hint that would further prove your previous claims, you can’t help but think about Huh Yunjin from time to time, and that’s what makes you feel at least a bit awkward about the whole thing.

“Nothing, I’m fine,” you say, trying to play it off.

“Come on,” Renjun sighs, “tell me. Is it something I did?”

Shaking your head, you roll your eyes at his insisting. The shift in dynamic is ironical, to say the least– 4 months ago, he wouldn’t care about what was making you feel so down, he wouldn’t even care about you walking home from university alone in the darkness of the evening hours, but now, the crease between his brows almost makes him look worried about you, and you can’t say you hate it– even though in this moment, you’d rather have him not care at all.

“Okay, so I’ll just play a guessing game, then,” he scoffs, humming, lost in thought. “You’ve been weird since the party. Something happened there?” 

“No,” you disagree, tone of voice almost sounding desperate and harrowing, not really wanting him to keep asking about the reasoning behind your mood.

“Okay, so that’s a yes. Did someone make you feel uncomfortable? Do I need to beat somebody up? Oh god, was it Hyuck? That fucker said something to you, right? I’m gonna lock him out of the apartment, I swear to god–”

“It wasn’t Hyuck,” you giggle at his outrage, deciding to save his roommate’s life.

“It wasn’t?” he asks, seemingly genuinely surprised, expecting his devilish roommate to be the reason behind all the bad things in the world. “Okay, so it must have been me, no? What did I do?” 

Sighing and shaking your head in disbelief at his insistence, you grunt. “You didn’t do anything wrong, Jun, can you just stop asking?” you say, the nickname rolling of your tongue automatically, without much thinking. 

There’s a moment of silence between the two of you. It does nothing to help you relax or feel better about the situation, but at least you think Renjun finally dropped the topic and won’t ask you about it again. You’d rather have the ground swallow you whole than to admit what’s been bugging you, especially when it’s Renjun himself you’re talking to about the matter.

You were, once again, wrong in your assumptions. Renjun did not drop the topic– no, he just took his sweet time to hit the nail on the head.

“Was it because of Yunjin?” 

The question opens a pit in your stomach, the embarrassment creeping out of your body and making you heat up not helping your case. Hands clammy as you shake your head and gesture, trying to prove your disagreement with the question to the best of your abilities– but only making yourself look stupid and like you’re trying too hard– your words come out weirdly high-pitched, only further proving Renjun’s point.

“No, it– it’s not that, I– I–”

Renjun scoffs at you, shaking his head. “It’s okay. Did she– did she make you feel uncomfortable? I know she’s been staring a lot the whole evening, I’m sorry about that…”

His words do a little to comfort you. You wouldn’t say you were perfectly fine with the fact that he knows that it was his ex girlfriend that’s been on your mind the past few days– because you two aren’t dating, and realistically, this shouldn’t matter to you– but his understanding eyes bearing into yours make you calm down a little when you sigh and avert your gaze, chewing on the inside of your cheek before you speak back up again.

“It’s okay,” you hum, “I– It was expected, I guess?”

Renjun hums, eyes focusing somewhere into the unknown. Picking at the skin on your cuticles, you think the conversation is over and you’ve done a good job at playing it off, half of your worries now soothed, but Renjun is a man full of surprises, it seems, when he looks at you again, licking his lips in hesitance.

“But that’s not all, is it?” he asks, but he gets no answer from you. It doesn’t matter– your silence is enough of a conformation. “Look, I didn’t… I didn’t invite you to make her jealous, or anything, if that’s what’s running through that brain of yours, okay? I didn’t even know she would be there.”

Blinking a few times at him, not expecting him to read you so well, you let out the breath you didn’t even know you’ve been holding, nodding at his reassuring words. “Oh…”

“I invited you because I thought you’d have fun… and because I kind of wanted you there. And so did Hyuck, actually, he thinks you’re his platonic soulmate, or something–” the man rambles, explaining his intentions to you, the frantic words coming out of his mouth making you giggle. Relief washes over his face at that, noticing the ease in the atmosphere, his hand gently squeezing your knee when your laughs get quiet. “Everything’s good now?”

“Yeah,” you nod, “thanks. It was silly, but– you know,” you shrug, awkwardly grinning to yourself.

“Yeah,” he sighs out, looking back in front of him, the moment of silent sincerity between the two of you having him open up to you, “it wasn’t like that. me and her… it wasn’t quite the same for a while, you know? Like, I knew it was over before it really happened, but nonetheless, I didn’t expect her to… to do what she did to end it.”

You hum, not really knowing what words you could offer him to console him. Not really wanting to ask any more questions, you wait for him to talk by himself, to assure you’re not insensitive or prying too much. You’ll let him tell you how much he wants, and you’ll silently thank him for the trust he has in you when holding up his feelings to you on a silver platter, naked and vulnerable for you to see and examine. 

“It’s like… I wanted to end it, but not with her cheating on me. That– that hurt more than the actual break up, I think. And maybe it shouldn’t matter, because I wasn’t in love with her anymore anyway, but it still… left a scar, I think,” he hums, and by the way he plays with his fingers in his lap, you can tell he didn’t expect himself to open up to you like this– maybe this is the first time he’s even sharing this with anyone, and the urge to protect him and his heart is suddenly stronger than ever before, even though it’s been somewhere there, deep inside of you, all along.

“That’s valid,” you say, “nobody deserves that to happen to them, no matter how your relationship looked at the time. You were still together, and she shouldn’t have done that,” you mumble, hoping to provide comfort to him, but also hoping your words aren’t unwelcome at this very moment.

The blonde looks at you, an appreciative smile appearing on his face. “Thanks,” he says. There’s nothing to thank you for, you think, but perhaps those are the words he needed to hear for a while now. Perhaps your sentences just mended something in him, perhaps you were the voice that finally made him admit that what he’s been feeling about the situation wasn’t stupid or irrational.

In a moment of weakness, a selfish masochism, even, you let out a prying sentence slip out of your lips– a sentence that could hurt you, have you not been prepared for the outcome. And maybe you were going too far, maybe you should’ve stayed quiet, but you can’t turn back time and the words were already spoken. “Do you ever miss her?” 

Renjun thinks for a while– a heartbeat of a second that makes you feel like you’re falling into a deep abyss– before he shakes his head. “Not really. Not her, I don’t miss her. I think that sometimes, I just miss what we had, but… that’s long gone.”

Humming indifferently, you accept his response in a quiet solace. 

You don’t know where this conversation brings you, but you bet it’s a step in some direction.

After a while, with Renjun’s head soundly resting on your shoulder when the silence gets too long, yet a comforting aura still shades the two of you sitting at the stairs, there’s a black Ford Fiesta honking at the parking lot, the two of you jumping to your feet. The boy drags you to the backseat, your bags hitting the floor of the vehicle, as Jeno looks back at you from the front, smiling at you with moon crescents in his eyes.

“Hello!”

“Hi,” you breathe out.

“Is Y/N tagging along?” Hyuck gasps from the passenger’s seat, turning towards you two, a face of a pleasant surprise written all over his face. You know what, maybe Renjun was right and you and his roommate are platonic soulmates of some sort. Or at least that’s how Lee Donghyuck’s been acting ever since the day he met you.

“I’m not,” you giggle, shaking your head in disapproval.

“Jeno, can you drop Y/N off at her apartment?” Renjun hums, and suddenly, the previous worries leave you as soon as the tall man nods and tells you to navigate him to your place. There was no reason why you’d be rejected by Renjun’s friends– for more reasons than one, you just aren’t aware of them yet.

The ride to your apartment is filled with laughter. Squinting at your project partner sitting next to you at the back of the car, you notice that he’s glowing brightly in the reflections of the lampposts shining through the windows of the car, a stolen galaxy swirling in his eyes when your eyes meet when you pay your goodbyes to the guys while getting off at your driveway a few minutes later.

And it’s quite funny. You don’t even live that far.

–

Clapping when your favorite writer completes the little interactive Q&A at the local library on a Monday afternoon– all throughout you didn’t have any courage to ask any questions yourself, even though you had plenty– you stand up from your place at one of the little, lanky folding chairs in the back of the room and smooth your hands over the skirt of your dress, getting the creases out. You’ve learned a lot about the author today– all from how she started writing, what inspired her to write your most favorite novel, and where she finds her inspiration for writing. You have a lot of information, yet, you still bet you could master more questions, if you were to do an interview with her– you wouldn’t even have to try as hard. 

Reading is one of your passions, it’s something that brought you to the love you have for writing, and although you didn’t stick with fiction for long, finding that the world building and creating plot and characters got boring for you after a while, you found your love for writing shining through when you type articles; making sure your headlines are captivating, that your articles are well-structured and bring something new to the table. It’s a completely different branch– some would say a less creative one– but it’s undeniable that the love for it started in you when you first started reading books, when you were little, in the quiet and comfort of your room.

Glancing back at Renjun, the boy follows you like a lost puppy (you bet it’s his first time at the library, despite him owning quite a few books himself– you noticed so while examining his room one time and found classics in his bookshelf), he offers you a soft smile, nudging you to keep walking. There’s a line forming towards the head of the room, where the writer is still sitting, numbers of passionate readers and fans of her work waiting to get their books signed. There’s a little stand in the middle of the far right wall, containing numerous books written by the person currently sitting in the same room, breathing the same air as you two, and you don’t hesitate to buy the latest one, the one you haven’t had the chance to read yet, with the intention of getting it signed.

“Which one’s your favorite?” Renjun asks, standing close to you and pointing towards the stacks of books on the stand.

“That one,” you hum, bringing his attention to the paperback cover at the very corner of the stand, watching as the man takes it into his hands and flips it over, reading through the summary. He looks like one of those Pinterest boards you’d title ‘Dark academia’ with a series of emojis that fit the ‘aesthetic’, with his plaid coat layered on top of a knitted, light brown sweater, the blonde fringe slightly falling into his eyes. 

“I’ll get this one, then,” he looks at one of the ladies behind the stand, smiling at her as he gets his wallet out.

“Don’t you want the latest one?”

“Nah,” he shrugs, smiling at the lady once again when the book is back in his hold, paid for and now in his ownership. His eyes are back at you when he offers you the explanation. “You said you liked this one, so I wanna try it. And you don’t know if the latest one is any good, so at least I’ve heard a good review on this one and don’t have to be afraid of buying a shitty book,” he snickers, making you roll your eyes at the tone of his voice, but still, there’s a little man in your brain screaming at the top of his lungs– screeching, even– at the action, the gears in your brain turning faster and faster as you let yourself indulge and overthink his words. He bought it because it’s your favorite– so he said– and in a split second of delusion, it doesn’t matter to you if it was just because he wanted to be sure the book is good, or if it was just him wanting to read your favorite book as a way of learning more about you.

“As if any of her books could be bad,” you mumble, moving slowly through the line. You’re the last ones waiting for the autograph, and while there’s still a lot of people in front of you, you can’t help but feel a little nervous at the promise of an interaction with the author.

“Well, you can never really know. Everyone has bad days.”

Snickering at his argument, you shake your head in disbelief and move a few steps forward again. You’ve taken a few photographs of the library while you were sitting and listening to the talk; a few of the author– to capture the nice memory– and some of the interior as well, showcasing the numerous shelves filled with books of different genres that the library provides. Still, you take the camera into your hands again, taking a few more– you were sure to get permission from the smiley and welcoming librarians when you arrived– trying to capture the atmosphere and the heartwarming aura of it all. A little selfishly, for your own memory, you turn to your companion and point the lens towards him, seeing as he poses with the book, acting a little silly when you take the picture, and when he breaks into an amused grin after, you take another one– a moment captured in time, his toothy laugh on full display. When you look at the picture again, your heart warms up a little at the image. Maybe you could get it printed out and add it to your memory book alongside the pictures you have from your first university parties and moving into the new apartment with Jimin– just so you have something to look back to.

Soon enough, you reach the front of the room, your bodies only a few steps away from the author. When the last guests in front of you leave, paying their goodbyes, you take a step forward with a little sigh, trying to encourage yourself and also calm down the erratic beating of your heart, ready to face the idol you’ve been looking up to since you were 11. With Renjun on your side, you put on your most picture-worthy smile, clammy hands offering the book to the writer when you reach the long table, choking on your words.

“Hello,” you greet, not really knowing what to say. You would be lying if you said you didn’t rehearse this in your brain seventy different times ever since you talked with Renjun about going to the library last week, trying to make up the perfect scenario and find the best words to use when you finally meet her, but in this very moment, the whole script flies through the window and you’re left silent and hesitant, heat rising to your cheeks when you can’t seem to find the right words to say.

“Hello,” you hear Renjun greet shortly after you, bumping into you a little with his hip when he stumbles to the table, seemingly more calm than you, trying to save the day, “my name’s Huang Renjun,” he says, and you want to kick him in his shin– because who even does that? Who tells their full name to a stranger, an author he’s never heard of before actually attending this meet and greet, acting as if he was an old friend of hers, meeting the famous writer after a long time? You almost thought he’d save you from the embarrassment and lead the way, from the way he approached her, but after hearing those words come out of his mouth, you almost go to scold him for his behavior.

To your surprise, though, the writer’s eyes widen in what seems to be realization, nodding to herself. “So you must be Y/N!” she says, looking back at you, a welcoming smile appearing on her lips. 

“I- I-” you stutter, suddenly feeling really confused. Is this a dream? Are you asleep? Or is your favorite writer suddenly a psychic too? What are you missing?

“Yeah! She’s just a little nervous right now,” he grins, taking a short look at you before he turns back to the author, “so… I take it as you haven’t changed your mind about the interview?”

“Not at all! I’m actually really happy to hear that students are taking interest in my writing and that they want to interview me,” she says, quickly signing your books on the front pages, offering them back to you, “I usually don’t give interviews just to anyone– you know, it would get a little too busy if I did that– but your passion really caught my attention.It reminds me of myself when I was your age… Just give me a few seconds, I have a phone call to make right now, but after I’m done, I’m all yours!” 

“Of course!” Renjun nods, watching as the author stands up from the table and disappears in one of the back rooms, seemingly to take care of the call. Turning back to you, still finding you dumbfounded from the interaction, he can’t help but let out an amused laugh. “Are you okay over there?”

“I- What-” you stutter, shaking your head as if to make your brain reboot, dragging your hand through your hair to get it out of your face, “how did you even manage to- she doesn’t even-” you fail to create coherent sentences, shock and surprise overshadowing your otherwise good choice of vocabulary, confusion spreading over your face like a shadow.

“I have my ways,” he shrugs nonchalantly, as if this was the easiest thing to accomplish, once again breaking into a grin when he sees your stoic face, “maybe try to smile a little? She might think you’re terrified of her if you keep frowning like that.”

“I am,” you mumble, still not quite comprehending the situation.

Rolling his eyes at you, he snickers. “Come on,” he says, “I bet you have plenty of questions for her up in that brain of yours,” he points to the middle of your forehead, shaking his head at your frozen figure.

“I do, but-” you mumble, catching yourself mid-sentence, “how did you even-” the words stream out your mouth, a puzzled expression not leaving your face.

“You can thank me later. Now focus on your job,” he says, turning you by your shoulders and pushing you a little towards the author that has now emerged out of the back room, a welcoming glint in her eye when her eyes land at the two aspiring journalists.

On that Monday afternoon, with sweaty palms and tongue-tied as you stutter out the curious questions, making an interview for your imaginary magazine, you learn that contrary to the popular demand, Huang Renjun is quite full of surprises. 

The longer you know Renjun, the more you hang out without the purpose of working on your assignment together. Truth be told, you started working on it pretty early into the semester, and while others were now aimlessly pulling all nighters to complete the magazine, you and Renjun were pretty much done with it already by now, since you forced the man to start working on it as soon as it was possible. He didn’t say it out loud, but you can tell he was thankful for that– it would kill the both of you if you had to focus on the project now, when exam season is slowly, but surely in reach and you’ll have to start studying soon.

It was a little awkward at first– you still remember the first time you watched Netflix with him in the silence of his apartment, with his mood very apparently below zero– starting with the two of you taking breaks in between working on your assignment, talking about the latest episodes of the anime you two have, coincidentally, chosen to watch at the same time; later progressing into full on sessions of gossip with his roommate Donghyuck joining the two of you at the comfortable couch. You’d say your friendship started a little this way, with you and Renjun running to the convenience store when you ran out of snacks in the middle of your study sessions and the two of you randomly laughing at something in your Journalism class, earning yourself scolding looks from the professor. It was unexpected, but you grew familiar with the antics, flowing through the days together, filling the boring days with texts full of TikTok links and Donghyuck sending you random pictures of your project partner all zoomed in on Snapchat. You even invited Renjun over a few times, Jimin accepting the new man in the comfort of your home when she realized he’s not as bad as he used to be before, as you ate up all of your snacks this time around instead, having impromptu karaoke sessions in your room, trying to quiz each other on the lyrics of your top tracks of the last year on Spotify. 

Everything felt casual, growing more in tune with the man he was, learning his antics and all about his character. You quickly learned that when he’s feeling down, he gets a little snappy– a bad habit you made him recognise and try to eliminate, at least when you’re around. You found out that when he’s nervous, he bites his nails, and you choose to slap his palms from the proximity of his lips whenever you catch him in the act. When he’s annoyed– much like when you prevent him from the action of gnawing at his fingernails until the skin around them  bleeds– he rolls his eyes and sighs, sometimes even shakes his head at you in disapproval. He looks adorable while doing so, but to save both of you the embarrassment, you’d never tell him out loud.

And you’d even dare to say he learns about you too. He’s an observing individual, and you’d even argue that he cares about you at least a little. For one, he’s not rude towards you anymore, the way he was when you two first started talking, and also, he shows his affection towards you in the most Renjun ways possible. He’d argue that he’s not good with words, but he’s always there to affirm you with them in his true love language whenever you’re stressed or overwhelmed with responsibilities. He also remembers your favorite drinks and snacks, opting to save them for you whenever you come by his place, and even slipping some into your bag before you leave his apartment. He’s a caring individual, a big hearted man, delicate in all directions.

You believe it’s impossible not to fall for him at least a little. Not when you really know him– the way you do, from up close, in his most joyful moments and the ones where he tries to battle you away when the ghosts in his brain try to make him shelter himself away from everyone too.

But you wouldn’t tell him that. Never in a thousand years.

“I hate all this fucking snow,” you tell him instead, when you walk by his side with your groceries in hand, the tips of your fingers brittled from the cold. “Why is it even snowing in the first place, it’s the end of February, for fuck’s sake!” 

The two of you decided to go for a grocery run together, and while some would say it’s not a fun activity to do, you think you like experiencing mundane things with your close ones the most. If you enjoy someone’s company, you truly do not care what you do together– you always go pick up packages from the post with Jimin, or drive your little sibling to the store when you’re back home, even though the action itself doesn’t provide you any conventionally ‘fun’ experiences, most of these are a fond memory in your brain, because you got to spend time with someone you love. It’s the same right now– even though it’s snowing heavily and you can’t feel your feet from the cold– you went to buy groceries with Renjun when he texted you about it, realizing you could buy some things you ran out of as well, opting to walk there together.

“I thought you liked winter?” he snickers, seeing your grumpy expression. 

“Why would you think that?”

“Because you said you hated summer,” he says, matter of factly, making you giggle to mask the warmth spreading on your insides from the knowledge that he remembers the random fact you once told him when you were working on your project together.

“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean I like winter either,” you say, shrugging.

“Do you even like anything?”

“No,” you shake your head, totally serious before you burst into laughter, “kidding. I like spring,” you smile at him, eloquently, shuffling your legs along the snowed-in ground, moving closer to the campus, near to where you both live.

“I like spring too, actually.”

“Because your birthday’s in spring?” you snicker, teasing him.

“Maybe,” he admits, laughing with you. “No, but I think spring’s neat for a number of reasons. It always feels… like a new beginning, perhaps? After months of silence, you can finally hear the chirping of birds in the morning, and the sun sets later too, so the days feel longer…” he says, and you find yourself observing him, admiring the love he has for the season.

“Exactly,” you nod, pointing your gaze towards the ground when you notice that he caught you staring, embarrassment creeping up your back before you shudder from the cold, heavy snowflakes falling on top of your head, drenching your freshly washed locks and making your cheeks burn with cold. You can’t remember the last time it snowed so hard– you were in for a couple of warm winters for the last couple of years– and as much as you hate to admit it because of your noticeable aversion towards winter, you must say it looks quite magical.

“Look, I know you hate winter, but you do have windows in your flat, right?” he jokes, making you roll your eyes at the nagging you know you’re about to hear. “Maybe look out of them before you go out, so you could dress for the weather the next time.”

“Very funny,” you snicker, “I’ll let you know, it wasn’t snowing when I was getting ready.”

“Okay then, maybe start using the weather app. It’s great if you want to know how cold it really is outside, and you’re quite good with technology, so maybe you could-”

“Oh, fuck off,” you snap, but feel yourself grinning at the teasing.

The man lets out a sigh– a habit of frustration he does a lot whenever you’re around– before you feel him tugging something onto the top of your head, your ears suddenly shielded by soft fabric. Looking up at your companion in shock, you notice that the beanie that had been sitting on his head until now is covering yours instead; and although you appreciate the gesture with a giddy clench on your insides, you find yourself protesting.

“Jun! You’ll get cold,” you pout.

“Okay, but so will you, and as far as I’m concerned, I have more layers on than you right now, so you need it more than me,” he shrugs, all nonchalant, making you hesitantly smile at him and shut up, keeping the warm wool over your head. 

Next time, you’ll look at the weather app to save your heart some trouble. 

Or maybe you won’t.

Walking closer to your apartment complex, naturally accepting the fact that Renjun decided to walk you home– or just hasn’t realized he’s doing so yet– you fall into comfortable conversation, mostly consisting of you complaining and Renjun finding your tangent amusing.

“My groceries will get all wet! Fucking hell, Renjun…”

“I didn’t force you to come,” he laughs.

“Well, but you have the weather app, as opposed to me, so maybe you could’ve predicted the fact that it was going to snow soon,” you pout, shaking your head in disbelief. 

“And if I did?” 

“Then why’d you drag me out?” you huff, nearing the steps that lead up towards the front door of your building, being careful not to slip on them as you stand on the first one, towering above the man that takes his position opposite of you while you say your goodbyes. 

“Okay, next time get your groceries alone, if you’re just gonna complain the whole way,” he giggles at your fake offendance, looking up at you from under his eyelashes. Snowflakes settle on the tops of his cheekbones, the rosy tint in his face taking your breath away, something in his eyes captivating you and hypnotizing you into doing things you would’ve never dared to do as you reach out towards his hair, now wet from the snow that manages to melt away on his body, brushing your hand through the locks.

“It’s gotten so long,” you muse, “the blonde’s all grown out now.”

He hums, the eye contact making you heat up despite the coldness that’s been trying to seep into your bones. “Maybe I should dye it back to black, then.”

Grinning, you shrug as your hand escapes his scalp. “Yeah,” you nod, “maybe you should.”

“It’s a plan, then,” he says before he grins, poking you in your forehead with his pointer finger as he takes a step back from you, heading towards the direction of his apartment. “I’ll text you,” he adds.

Paying your goodbyes to him, you stumble inside and reach your flat, your whole body on fire even though you’ve been freezing until now as you take off your wet shoes and tug the borrowed beanie from your head. Putting away the groceries, you wonder if there’s a significance in his decision, if the change of hair is the same as the reason why he loves spring; if new things are beginning, or if you’ve just tricked yourself into falling for him too hard.

“You have to mix it together with this first!” Renjun whines, sitting at the edge of the bathtub as he watches you open the box dye you bought together at the drugstore a few hours ago, pointing his finger at the white pack containing the mixing solution.

“Oh,” you mumble, clammy hands flying around and trying to read the instructions instead, too worried to mess up again and accidentally burn Renjun’s hair off. After a few moments of you silently turning the big sheet of paper around in all directions, you hear your companion snicker under his breath, standing up from his position at the edge of the bathtub and mixing the dye with the solution in a little plastic container he got from under the sink himself instead.

“Let me do it,” he shakes his head, “didn’t know you were this useless.”

“If you didn’t want me here, you could’ve just said so,” you put the instruction paper down, crossing your arms on your chest as you take a step back and look at him with an offended pout, watching as he gets everything ready. His hair is sticking all over the place and the shirt he has on is stained with bleach– you suspect he wore this exact outfit a few months ago when he dyed his hair blonde– the fabric hanging loosely down his shoulders. 

“I’m perfectly capable of dying my hair on my own, if you didn’t notice,” he says, “me wanting you here is the sheer reason for your presence.”

Heart skipping a beat at the sentence, masking it off with a fakely annoyed sigh, you watch him take a seat back at the edge of the bathtub when he’s done, motioning for you to take matters into your hands and start dying his hair. “Don’t fuck it up.”

“I’ll do so just to spite you,” you argue back, taking the plastic container with the dye into your hand and standing close to Renjun, parting his hair down the middle as you get the chemical-smelling mixture into his growing locks. Focused on the task at hand, trying really hard not to get the dye all over the place, you almost get lost in the motion of playing with his hair and pay too much attention to each section, your touch gentle not to tug at his hair. It  makes you not notice the way you’re suddenly standing in between Renjun’s opened legs, your skin covered by fabrics of sweatpants touching.

His head suddenly moves, making you almost dye his whole forehead black, when he plops a gummy worm into his mouth and regains his previous position. 

“Stop moving or else it’s gonna look bad!” you scowl, frustrated with the fact that he made you lose your focus.

“Want a gummy worm?” he asks, looking up at you with an innocent smile instead– as if to make you forget all about his actions from before– and you reward him with an annoyed shake of your head that shows him disapproval which he seemingly chooses to ignore as he reaches into the pack of gummies again and holds one up to your lips, fingertips brushing against the skin of your mouth making you feel heat in your cheeks. You didn’t want a gummy worm, but with the proximity of his hand to your face and the starry gaze he offers you when you meet his eyes, you don’t hesitate to take the gummy into your mouth and chew on the candy, earning yourself a satisfied smile.

Turning towards his hair again, the last few strands left undyed waiting for your attention, the man suddenly squeezes your thigh, making you wince. “How is it going up there?”

“Good,” you choke out, suddenly hyper aware of his hand resting on the skin of your leg, as if to hold you in place, his other hand working almost on auto-pilot as he completes the symmetry and grazes your other thigh, his touch on you so gentle you could almost miss it if you didn’t pay enough attention.

“If it’s patchy, I’m blaming you and not the dye,” he teases, drumming against your leg with his fingers, each little gesture making you less and less focused on his hair and more on the way his eyelashes fan over his cheekbones from above, biting down hard on your lip to keep yourself from making any sound close to frustration or the sound of perhaps losing your mind. 

“Well then, maybe you shouldn’t have bought the cheapest one.”

“I’m staying on budget,” he says, making you snicker.

Forcing yourself to focus back onto his hair, you finally complete your task of dying the man’s hair back to its original color. Taking a step back from him and putting the plastic container onto the sink, you start to miss the feeling of his hand on your skin; his hair slicked back by the dye makes him look oddly amusing, though, so you let a grin slip out at the sight of your companion sitting at the edge of the bathtub like a scolded child, his legs outstretched right in front of him and a pack of gummy worms once again firmly gripped in the palm of his hand.

After cleaning up the mess you’ve made on the bathroom sink, with Renjun singing to himself as he put up a timer on his phone for 20 minutes, you find yourself in his kitchen, walking around and finding a pot in which you could cook some ramen for dinner. It’s getting quite late and it’s rare that you find yourself alone in Renjun’s apartment with him, his roommate finally getting out after the dreaded exam season to celebrate, and you can’t help but find the domesticity of sharing his space with him– although this is not the first time– overtake you in a deep feeling of intimacy.

Stirring the noodles around with a fork you found in one of the drawers, listening to the low hums of Renjun singing in the bathroom as he cleans up the skin on his forehead and behind his ears with a wet cotton pad, you wonder how you managed to get used to this– how you even managed to find yourself in the presence of Huang Renjun so often, after only hearing about him from gossip around the school halls and hating his presence when you first had to work with him. It’s ironic, but you don’t hate it quite as much as you would think. 

“You’re making ramen?” he asks as he finally reaches the kitchen, big eyes full of thankfulness meeting yours when he notices you getting out some plates to transfer the meal into, since you’re close to being done.

Humming in agreement, you see him lean on the kitchen counter from the corner of your eye, a satisfied smile reaching his lips. “I should invite you over more often.”

“I’m here like twice a week, Jun,” you mumble, focused on not spilling the meal all over the place.

“Well, if it means you’ll cook all the time, you can even move in, if you want to” he jokes, making you shake your head in disbelief as you take the plates and move them to the coffee table you are so used to sitting at by now, since the boys don’t really have a dining table in their apartment, making them (and sometimes you joining) eat all the meals at the coffee table, sitting on the ground.

“And where would I sleep? On the couch? No, thank you,” you shake your head, digging into the noodles and blowing on them to make them cool faster.

“I’ll kick Hyuck out, so you can have his room,” he mumbles in between bites, following you. 

“So you just want me to be your maid, got it,” you nod.

“That’s not what I said,” he looks at you with offense, before digging into the noodles again, mumbling under his nose before taking a bite, “although you would look nice in a maid dress-”

Kicking him in the leg, seeing as he chokes up on the food from laughing, you shake your head in disbelief at his antics. You think it’s the hair dye getting to his brain, so when his timer goes off in a few minutes after you’re both done with the food, you thank god for bringing you out of your misery. 

Listening to the sound of the shower as he washes the hair dye off, you take it upon yourself to clean up the dishes. You’d feel bad for leaving a mess in his kitchen, and you also think it’s a nice thing to do. It only takes a few minutes before he’s out of the bathroom again, hair damply sitting on his forehead, his figure twirling like a ballerina– reminding you of the way you did little fashion shows for your father whenever you came home from shopping with your mum– waiting for what you have to say about his new look, although in true reality, he looks just the same as a few months ago. 

“Does it look good?”

“I can’t tell ‘cause it’s wet,” you say, squinting your eyes at the mess on his head, “go blow dry it.”

“Fuck no,” he shakes his head, protesting, “I hate blow drying my hair.”

“Why? I can’t tell if it’s patchy this way,” you say.

“My hands get tired and I get bored and I just really don’t enjoy the experience,” he simply states, and he wins– whether this was his intention or not– as you drag him back to the bathroom and get out of him where he keeps the blow dryer, plugging it in and moving to do it for him. 

There it is again– that funny feeling in your stomach as you move your hands through his hair, brushing his bangs away from his forehead as you blow dry his locks. The feeling makes you weak in your knees as you look at the boy who now has his eyes closed, seemingly enjoying the motion of your fingers threading through his freshly dyed strands, and when you finally turn the device off and watch him open his eyes, looking at you half-lidded and seemingly a little tired, you once again notice his hands on your thighs as he sits at the bathtub, although now the touch is more firm, pulling you close to him. 

“Are you happy now that your hair is black?” you find yourself asking, your eyes bearing into him as you reference the dialogue you two had when he dyed his hair blonde, when you two didn’t know each other well just yet and he told you the wishful secret of wanting to have more fun as a blonde since he was sad when his hair was black. 

His smile looks a little drunk, despite the both of you being completely sober as he replies, acting as if he was getting tipsy off your proximity and gentle touch. “My hair’s black because I’m happy, not the other way around,” he mumbles, your eyes momentarily drifting to his pretty lips as he talks, their rosy plumpiness making it hard for you to unstuck your gaze from the curve of his smile and focus on other features of his face.

“Good,” you nod, your hands finding their place at his shoulders, almost going for a hug, but never really completing the action. 

“So how do I look?” he asks again, your conversation growing quiet in the intimate atmosphere, voices not wanting to interrupt the calm, yet tense harbor. 

Examining him, you find yourself once again attracted to the boy you see in front of you. He looks exactly like he did before his break-up– yet now, you’d argue and say he looks even better; healthier and more radiant, his features gentle, hair a little longer and his smile reminding you of an angel. Humming to yourself, you brush your hands through his black strands again, letting yourself indulge in your growing feelings for the man for just a second, before the moment is gone. “Really pretty,” you mumble, watching as his smile grows for a mere second before his eyes drift from yours down to your lips, making you forget how to breathe.

Your hands continue to get lost in his hair as you stare at each other for a while, silence in the bathroom making you listen in on each other’s breathing, before your brain fails you and you let yourself operate on auto-pilot, leaning down to his face, surprised to see him meet you in the middle. You kiss him as if you’ve been waiting ages to do so, your lips molding in with his in a perfect harmony, firm, yet still unmistakably gentle contact making you shiver. 

It feels like a century before you pull away, ready to face the consequences of your actions, when he captures your lips in another kiss, drunk on the action. Feeling him standing up from the edge of the bathtub and moving his hands to firmly grip your waist before he walks you backwards against the tiled wall, the coldness of it mixing with the heat spreading across your body makes you gasp into the kiss and invite his tongue into your mouth.

Your hands fall from his hair and find their way around his neck, tugging him close, while one of his gentle palms rests on your jaw, angling your face in a way that lets him take control and have you even closer, two bodies seeking each other’s presence.

“Renjun…” you gasp when his lips move away from yours, leaving kisses down your jaw, slowly reaching the delicate skin of your neck and the conjunction of your shoulder. 

He hums into your skin, a cold hand sneaking under the hem of your shirt making you wince, all of his actions making your senses hyper aware to the touch and feeling of his lips pressed against you, especially when he finds the sweet spot behind your ear and makes you squirm under him, the feeling of his smile against your skin turning you crazy.

Finding yourself tugging his face back to yours, taking back his lips, his hand travels up your side, leaving goosebumps all over your skin with the cold motions of his fingertips, you shiver under his caring, yet teasing touch. The kiss feels as if it’s one step away from heaven, letting out a satisfied sound when he softly brushes the underside of your breast.

Pressing him closer against you, leaving open-mouthed kisses down his neck, you feel him hard against your thigh, neediness overtaking you as you lightly move against him, hearing him choke out a breath. “Is- is this okay?” he asks, voice not louder than a whisper before you continue with your motions, answering with your actions before using your words, breathing growing quicker with the way the friction makes you feel.

“More than okay with me,” you mumble, seemingly encouraging him as he presses you firmer against the tiled wall, helping you guide your desperate movements. Foreheads pressed against each other, breathing mixing in the silent room, you can’t seem to find it in you to stop, completely losing yourself in him and in the way he makes you feel, selfishly chasing down release from all the butterflies and electric stares he’s been sending your way.

Grunting when you press up against him in a way that sends sparks down his spine, his hand reaches up under your thigh, almost on the skin of your butt, holding up your leg to make more room and get you even closer to him, before he heaves out a sigh. “Let’s go to my room?” he asks hastily before you nod and let him plop you up against his figure with your legs entangled around his middle, escaping the cold tiles of the bathroom and walking over to the his room smelling of fresh laundry detergent and vanilla, soft sheets enveloping your body when he lightly drops you into his mattress.

A giggle escapes your lips at the contact of your body with the bed, earning yourself a playful roll of Renjun’s eyes as he leans over you, plopping himself up on one elbow above you, caging you in his embrace. Maintaining eye contact with him, blissful smiles stretching on your lips, you almost think the moment is over, but he quickly brings you back to the neediness you felt before as he leans in again, kissing you painfully slowly while his hand reaches under the hem of your shirt, letting his palm travel against your body. His actions make you shiver as his fingertips softly tickle your side, moving towards the dip of your waist, then back up across your stomach as he traces mindless shapes against your skin, occasionally letting himself travel up towards the fabric of your bra. Cupping one of your breasts into his hand, you let out a soft grunt when he squeezes the flesh softly enough to make you yearn for more.

Mirroring his actions, your hand moves under his loose shirt, hypnotized by the heat of his flesh. Enveloped in his warmth and the smell of him in his bedsheets, you let yourself roam up his abdomen, embracing the way his muscles jolt a little under your touch, before your hand settles onto his back, fingertips dancing up and down his spine.

“You’re driving me crazy,” he mumbles, making you break into a blissful smile, before his hand lazily dips down your belly, seeking approval in your eyes, “can I?” 

Nodding, afraid of seeming a little too eager– although maybe he would welcome that with open arms– you feel his fingertips messily dragging down the waistband of your sweatpants a little by little, leaving you in front of him only in your underwear, his lips swallowing your sighs when he hesitantly brushes his thumb against your clit. 

His movements get more confident as he adds more pressure, making you let out a few more muffled sounds he welcomes with a cocky smile, demeanor shifting as he presses a wet kiss against your cheek when he drags your underwear down and gets back to where he was before, but now acting more gently– as if the contact of your bare core with his fingers made him afraid you’re gonna break in his hold. Softly nudging your thighs, opening up your legs and softly tracing his pointer finger down your slit, he makes your cheeks flush from the contact and the feeling of air against your naked bottom half.

He doesn’t say much as he tests the waters, dragging his digits along your folds, examining your reaction when he circles your sensitive bud and sees you crumble under his touch. Your hands grip his pearl white sheets, not really knowing what to do to ground yourself back to reality, the man above you finally finding enough courage in him to insert one finger, then two inside of you, watching you react to his actions.

“Feels good,” escapes your lips, and truthfully, you didn’t even catch yourself saying it. It left your mouth on itself, your tone a little fragile but full of eagerness, wanting more– and seemingly understanding, he moves inside you with more reason now, hitting the right spot that makes your eyebrows crease and your breathing hitch in your throat.

“There?” he asks, as if to tease you. In any other circumstance, you’d find it in you to bark back something full of sarcasm and irony, but now, vulnerable and sensitive to his every move, you only nod eagerly and meet his eyes which are now clouded with lust, a view you’ve never experienced before, but welcome with undeniable curiosity.

Angling his fingers inside of you just the way you need them, you quickly feel yourself reaching your high, one of your hands flying to his forearm as if to let him know or warn him, somehow. Judging by his actions, he got the memo– showing his experience when he continues with the same speed and pressure, keeping still– before he slowly trips you over the edge, having you clenching around his fingers as you let moans slip out from your lips, euphoria taking over your whole body.

His figure leans into you, holding you close as your breathing comes back to normal, his lips press soft kisses to your temple. It’s almost a hint that the act is over, his actions growing more tender as opposed to the way he had you just a few moments prior, but you find yourself not wanting it to end, tugging his shirt up and earning yourself a questioning look.

“More?” you mumble, looking at him, grabby hands helping him take his shirt off. Your please sound almost like a question– they may as well be, for you don’t know if he wants this too– but he reacts to you positively when you have your eyes roaming across his bare torso, hands flying towards your own shirt, taking it off before you chastly press against him, both of you sitting at his bed, meeting him in a kiss as you settle yourself into his lap. 

In this moment, there’s nothing but him. Your head spins with his essence, your brain painfully aware of everything; of your hands holding his cheeks when you tug at his bottom lip with your teeth, chasing after his neck in a desperate need of leaving a mark, wanting evidence of you being there the next morning, so you could remind yourself that this wasn’t just a dream or a product of your own imagination. When you press down against his lap, dragging your naked core against his hard on, his hands grip your sides, sneaky fingers trailing up after a moment as he tugs the straps of your bra down before slipping it off completely, leaving you naked in front of him.

Lifting you by your hips and moving you back against his pillow, laying you into his sheets, he lets you drag his sweatpants down, your fingers dipping below the waistband of his boxers and gently dragging along the sensitive skin, feeling needier at the sounds of satisfaction escaping his lips. Bringing him closer with your other hand, he takes a moment to confirm with you one last time. 

“Are you sure you… want this?” he doesn’t seem to find the right words, leaving you softly laughing at his puzzled expression.

“I am,” you nod, assuring him, “I- I want you,” you mumble, still loud and clear, and he wastes no time in freeing himself of his underwear and aligning himself with your entrance.

He slowly pushes inside of you, his whole length filling you up. He leaves you some time to adjust, checking in with you with a look to your eyes, fingertips gently dragging your hair out of your face before you confirm with him that you’re okay with a soft nod, making him move and gently thrust inside of you; painfully slow at first, but reaching deep, taking in every inch of you. Pleasure builds inside of you as his thrusts become more quicker, finding a rhythm that makes your toes curl and your hands fly to his back, scratching down along his skin when he hits your spot and your eyes shut in a spell of satisfied sighs.

“You’re so beautiful like this,” he mumbles, pressing a kiss against your lips, a sentence sweet enough to make your cheeks flush under him– yet you think the heat you feel is more than shyness from his words, but from the contact of his skin on yours, driving you absolutely crazy.

His finger gently plays with your clit, slowly, but surely tipping you over the edge. You hold back a moan, head falling to your side on his pillow, Renjun’s lips pressing kisses into the now exposed areas of your neck, still going at a steady rhythm. 

“Fuck,” you let out when he picks up at speed, the imaginary glass of pleasure in you getting fuller and fuller, making afraid of it spilling out when he keeps going, your hand flying into his hair, tugging at it in a desperate attempt to ground yourself, “I’m close.”

He hums against your neck, softly biting a bruise into your flesh. He doesn’t say much, again– his loving is quiet, only occasionally letting out needy noises out past his lips here and there, grunts slipping out when you feel just right around him. You find it hard to keep up with the silence, blissful sounds escaping you when he takes you over the edge. Your walls clench around him as he’s still thrusting into you, chasing down his climax and making the most out of yours. You swear you can see stars, the tips of your fingers starting to tingle when you get a little too overstimulated, but before you can do anything about it, he slips out of you and warmth spreads on your stomach, his body crashing next to yours.

He doesn’t say much after either. The room falls into silence, your bodies heaving with deep breaths as you try to calm down the erratic beating of your hearts. Mindlessly threading your fingers through his hair, you stare at the ceiling, his arms draped over your middle, occasionally playing with the flesh of your hip, squeezing it with his palm and dragging his fingertips across the soft skin. Looking down at him, not seeing much other than the raven locks falling into his forehead and his closed eyes, you try hard to appreciate the closeness of his body, just in case you don’t get to experience it ever again.

Feeling his nose nuzzling into your skin, you wonder if he’s happy.

Dark, wallowing pit opens up in your stomach, the harrowing feeling you didn’t know you could recognise fills you up to your rim; your vision goes a little blurry at the sight in front of you and after a few seconds of torturing yourself by watching, you feel the bitter taste of blood on your tongue from gnawing at the gentle skin of your bottom lip too hard. That alone wakes you up from the weird transe you’ve been put in, making you turn on your heel and chime outside of the building, the iced americano in your hand thrown in the nearest trash can as you take the short way home, suddenly wanting to hide away from everyone and everything, too fragile to deal with the outer world today.

You open up the door to your apartment with a little struggle, your hand shaking not making it easy for you to put the key inside the keyhole, and when you finally get to the comfort of your little place, you’re met with Jimin’s concerned eyes waiting for you in the hall, her figure hesitantly walking over when she heard you struggle with the door.

Closing the door behind you a little too loudly, careless in your actions from how hard your heart is hammering against your ribcage, your roommate approaches you with gentle words. “What happened? Weren’t you meeting up with–”

“No,” you shake your head, cutting off her sentence before his name manages to come out of her mouth, your throat closing as you choke out the response; the soft gaze she offers you at the stern words of disapproval makes your eyes water even though you already promised yourself you wouldn’t cry over this.

“Oh, sweetie,” Jimin mumbles as her long legs make their way towards your shrunken figure, enveloping you in her arms. You let yourself be comforted, almost yearning for the slow strokes she gives your back, her long fingers threading through your hair. There aren’t many instances where you two had to hold each other in the entrance hall, too afraid of letting go before one of you breaks. You remember her breaking up with her boyfriend Jaehyun– they dated for a couple of months last year before he had to move away and a long distance relationship wasn’t something either of them was willing to put each other through– but that time, it was in the comfort of her bedroom and you watched the first season of Too hot to handle together after it was done to take her mind off things. You, however, don’t have much dating experience. Not a significant one anyway– you only dated in high school, and even though the boy you crowned your first in many things was sweet, you simply fell out of love with him after a few months and called it quits, with no tears shed and no hearts broken.

“I think I was just a rebound,” you get out in between your quiet sobs, the image of Renjun sitting at the cafeteria with Yunjin, his soft gaze offered to her as she leaned over the table and said something quietly to him before pressing a kiss to his cheek only further proving your claims.

And you guess you were the stupid one– you guess you were silly for thinking he was over his ex already, even if it’s been a couple of months since they broke up, even if he told you he didn’t miss her, but was sad to let go what they had– because the sweetness in his eyes when he looked at her hurt you more than you could’ve ever imagined, because you think you remember him looking at you like that the evening you dyed his hair black; you remember him looking at you like you hung up the stars on the sky, and you believed the gentle gaze– you believed there was something more than sex to it, you believed he felt the same feelings as the ones you’ve been harboring for the boy ever since you first hanged out at his place and watched Netflix with him to take his mind off the said girl.

Jimin doesn’t ask any questions– she knows you’ll tell her eventually, you just need comfort right now. Sniffling as you try to come down from the heartbreak you’ve caused yourself, you groggily get out a sentence that hurts to say out loud perhaps the most from the feelings freely roaming around your brain. “I don’t think it meant anything to him– I– I don’t think I meant anything to him.”

As if to torture yourself even more, the images of you two getting closer over the time flash through your brain– and you wonder if you were just lying to yourself the whole time. If his words weren’t what he made them out to be, if his gentle nature that overtook him when you were around was just him treating you as one of his friends. If he hooked up with you only because he was horny, and not because he cared for you enough to want to explore you further, deeper– if you were the only one in it for something more, if he was just keeping himself busy while trying to get over his ex.

And much like that time at the party, where he held you close and spent the whole night pretty much glued to your side, right in front of everyone’s eyes, you wonder if you just fulfilled your purpose in his life. 

“Shh,” the girl shushes you out of your self-destructive thoughts, still not getting any context on what happened, but being there for you anyway, “let’s just watch something, okay? We have the whole day off to ourselves, let’s watch this new anime I’ve been eyeing, what do you say?” she mumbles, seeing as you tiredly nod and she affectionately squishes your cheeks together, leading you towards the living room.

If you weren’t so numb right now, you’d even giggle. Jimin doesn’t watch anime– the amount of reality TV she watches is quite concerning sometimes– and her effort to aimlessly search through the internet for the first episode of an anime she randomly saw on Tiktok one day and thought would suit your watching style both amuses you and makes your heart warm just a little. Indulging in TV series is one of the only coping mechanisms either of you can ever come up with, it seems.

When the opening credits roll, you hear your phone’s notification sound pop up, your hand reaching for the device. You don’t even get an opportunity to look at who is texting you before your roommate snatches the phone out of your hand, swipes across the screen and turns it off with one swift motion, forcing you to focus on the animation going on the TV.

Sometimes, all you need is your caring roommate to take over everything. Today, more than ever, you’re more than willing to give yourself into her hands.

After that, you do what you think anyone in your situation would (or wouldn’t do, to be precise). You don’t text Huang Renjun random things throughout the day like you used to– you no longer laugh at weird memes he finds funny with him and you no longer read his texts that are full of random complaining, mostly about his roommate Donghyuck, throughout the day. You don’t meet him to work on the project together. It’s almost done and you still have time– you are planning on just finishing it by yourself and turning it in on the day it’s due, with no contact with the male. You also don’t call him when you’re walking home alone in the late hours of the evening, scared and yearning to find comfort in his saccharine words. You don’t even look at his messages– he sent you multiple– only letting yourself to check the contact name before you swipe the notification away without giving it much thought, making yourself ignore all of his calls the moment you hear your ringtone go off. Worst of all, you don’t even attend class anymore. You’re glad for the past you that managed to attend every single class, because now, you have more than enough absences to use up before the semester ends and you go on spring break.

You do everything in your power to erase him out of your life. It takes an admirable amount of self-control, you must admit.

And sometimes, it even feels silly. It feels stupid to react so much to seeing him with his ex girlfriend, because frankly, you two weren’t dating. No amount of touches, gentle words, hang-outs after the sun sets and intimacy means that you are a couple; it didn’t matter that you opened up to him so much when neither of you confirmed to this being inclusive. The day before you dyed his hair back, you two were just good friends, after all. Sex didn’t change anything– even though you thought it would. 

And maybe that’s what’s making you feel even more angstier about the whole thing. You gave him every last ounce of yourself you had, every inch of your body, from the inside out– so now, you feel thrown away, as if you were useless.

The cold nights slowly turn into warmer evenings, birds chirping outside waking you up in the mornings even more reminding you of the man you lost somewhere along the way. Spring was the favorite season of you both, but somewhere deep inside of you, you’re starting to dread it. Maybe it’s the fact that you were yearning for a new beginning for yourself in spring; for something to be born seemingly out of nothing– but it seems like you are supposed to bloom by yourself now, and you’re finding it harder than ever. 

It’s the beginning of the second week of March. Warm sunlight makes your feet spring up from your bed in the early morning, forcing you to take a walk. You’ve gotten used to going on these, as many call it, ‘mental health walks’ lately– you read on the internet that they help your mood, and even though it’s a slow progress, you’re willing to try anything, at this point. 

You chose a fixed destination you walk to every other day. It’s on the opposite side of the campus– where the Science buildings are– and you would be lying to yourself and everyone if you said you didn’t carefully craft the journey so you wouldn’t get in contact with the man you’ve been trying to avoid for the last two and a half weeks. It’s far away from your apartment, and even further away from his. There’s no reason for him to visit those parts of the campus, and you find comfort in the fact. 

Finding a bench under a cherry blossom tree– it’s slowly starting to wilt these days– you sit in silence for a while on some days, and on others, you put in your earphones and watch the world around you go by without you moving a single finger, trying to find comfort in the fact.

Listening to the playlist you made in the crack of dawn last night– Renjun always made fun of you for the fact that you once listed ‘making Spotify playlists’ as your hobby– you fall deep inside of your thoughts. When this happens, it’s hard to control your mind and think of something positive. The only thing left for you to do is to hope and pray you don’t spiral.

Why did it even matter so much to you anyway? It was just a kiss to his cheek. It’s not like you caught them in the act…

However, still, the image of them looking so comfortable together broke your heart; because somewhere along the way, you thought he’d always feel resentment towards the girl. She broke his trust, she made him feel worthless, and it was left for you to take all those broken pieces of him and glue them back together. You didn’t realize it back then, but just the fact that you didn’t give up on him back when he was being difficult was enough for the boy to feel at least a little better again. Your nagging, yet silent acts of meeting him somewhere in the middle, even on his worst days, was a source of comfort for him. And after a while, you started noticing that– you started noticing him warming up to you every time you met, you started noticing his gratitude towards you in the little acts of service he brought with himself when he bought you snacks or texted you if you came home safely after your meetings. 

You guess that seeing Yunjin talking so freely with him, seeing her kiss his cheek with such tenderness, made you feel so deeply, easily replaceable in his life. You guess you always feel like that with everyone anyway. It’s a bad habit you find hard to break– maybe you too, just need someone to be patient with you while you heal.

“What are you listening to?” you hear a voice, tone close to honey, ask from the place next to you. It makes you jump in terror, both from recognising it so easily and from not expecting him to find you here, so far away from everything, as you look at him with surprised eyes.

You don’t know what it is that keeps you silent. Perhaps it’s surprise. Perhaps it’s pettiness. Perhaps it’s shame. 

The feeling makes you stiff in silence, everything in you refusing to respond to his sudden casualty. “Okay, I’ll just stalk your listening activity on Spotify when I come home again, then,” he shrugs, his uninhibited demeanor making you boil inside. You feel like your insides are on fire, you feel like the whole world came crashing down on you because of mere seconds of seeing him with someone that he once held so dear to his heart, making you  feel replaced and forgotten, and yet, he comes to you so easily and doesn’t even acknowledge your hurt?

“What are you doing here?” you ask, voice soulless as you turn your music off and put your tangled earphones into your jacket pocket, finally choosing to recognise his presence. 

“Talking to you,” he shrugs, “I… brought you coffee,” he smiles, showing you the Starbucks take-out cardboard holding two drinks together, one iced americano and one caramel latte, the sight making your heart warm up quite dangerously at the thought that after all this time, he got your coffee order down, he noticed you sweetening your drinks, and he remembered.

Chewing on the inside of your cheek, you scoff. “How did you know I’d be here?”

The man shrugs. “I didn’t, at first. I… I came to your apartment to talk to you, but Jimin said you weren’t home, so after a few minutes of begging her to tell me where I could find you, she gave up and sent me here.”

You guess you’ll have to have a serious talk with your roommate when you come home.

“Why… why are you here, then?” you ask, still feeling the bitter pettines on your tongue when the words escape your mouth.

“Well,” he starts, taking a deep breath in, collecting his thoughts, “at first I thought I’d give you space. I thought you didn’t want to talk with anyone and you kept ignoring my texts and calls, so I texted Jimin to ask if you were okay, and when she told me you were doing fine, I figured it had to do something with me. And then– and then I thought I’d give you some space, since you looked like you needed some, but… but I think I need to face the problem now, since it’s clearly… something big, you know…” 

It’s undeniable that Huang Renjun is quite the smart individual. His ability to instantly sense your emotions and decipher the meaning behind them never fails to catch you off guard, though.

Looking at him from the corner of your eye, you suddenly notice the nerves he tried to mask by fake casualty. He keeps chewing on his bottom lip and he’s picking at his cuticles so hard you think they’ll bleed at any minute, his frame small and hesitant as he turns away from you, afraid to meet your eyes. He looks so, so guilty, and you suddenly feel stupid for making such a big deal out of something that shouldn’t have mattered to you in the first place.

“What… What did I do to hurt you?” he asks, voice barely louder than a whisper. “Because you must be hurt, if you’re avoiding me this much.”

Taking a deep breath in, you shake your head at the whole situation. He’s right, though– perhaps it’s time to finally face your problems now, so you can move on. Maybe this closure is what you need, maybe you need to hear it from him– to hear that it didn’t mean anything to him, to hear that Yunjin apologized and he’s gonna get back together with her, because somehow, your brain convinced you this was the case– to finally let him go and stop mourning something that was never there in the first place. “I–” 

Your words fail you.

“Do you… regret it?” he asks, voice so small you almost don’t hear him. 

The sentence takes you off guard. Looking at him, you can’t even bring yourself to speak, confused eyes roaming over his tense features. Opening up your mouth to ask for clarification, he mumbles again before you get a chance to speak. “Do you regret sleeping with me?”

Blinking at him a few times, a crease appearing in between your eyebrows, you shake your head. Is this really what was running through his brain? Is this why he left you alone for more than two weeks? Because suddenly, it makes sense– the way he gave you space and let you avoid him for two weeks before he came to find you in person– but again, this is not at all what was running through your brain all these days. Never once did you regret what you two did, no matter how shitty you’re feeling about it now after your brain convinced you of things that weren’t even real in the first place. “No,” you simply say.

A hint of relief washes over his face, his shoulders relaxing just the tiniest bit– it looks like this was what he’s been scared of the most; it looks like he feared he hurt you in this way. Still, he insists on talking it out once and for all. “What is it, then?”

Shameful to meet his eyes, you point your gaze towards your feet. Convincing yourself that your feelings are valid and that you were right to feel the way you do, the same way you did to him all those weeks ago at the stairs in front of the university building, you confess to your worries. “I saw you with Yunjin the other day.”

Now it’s his time to stay silent, and somehow, your brain can’t find a way to deal with not getting a response from him, so you ramble to cope. “At the cafeteria, I mean. I– I wanted to surprise you, and you said you were getting lunch alone and I was at the campus, so I thought I’d come to keep you company, but then… then I saw you with her, and you two seemed so comfortable together, so close, and then she kissed your cheek and it made me… it made me feel like… like you maybe wanted to get back together with her, or something…?”

“And really, it’s fine, if you want to do that, I guess I just… for the sake of both of us, or maybe just me, I think… I think it’s better for me to keep my distance from you, then.”

Watching as his expression shifts to one full of disbelief, you swear that what you want the most in this moment is to disappear. “Is this why you’ve been avoiding me those past two weeks?” he asks.

Pressing your lips into a thin line, suddenly feeling insanely silly and unreasonable when you say all of those things out loud, you avert your gaze from him, pointing it somewhere into the distance. 

“Is this really it?” he asks again, insisting, full of disbelief. “You made me feel like you regretted having sex with me, and this is it?” he chuckles, and you don’t know if it’s because he’s looking down on you, or if he just truly finds the situation funny. 

“Look, I–” 

“Fuck, Y/N,” he gets out, looking as if every nerve and stress in his body finally let go, relief washing over his face like waterfalls, “I was so scared, and this is what’s been bugging you?” he asks, shaking his head in disbelief as he runs his hands through his hair. “She came to apologize to me. Not that it mattered something to me, and not that it made any difference, but I didn’t have it in me to tell her to fuck herself, you know? That’s what you saw. She told me she wishes me well and that she hopes I find joy in someone else too. She didn’t even– she didn’t even sit with me at lunch. She went to eat with her boyfriend.”

And here it is– the inevitable notion of shame intensifies. Finally having the explanation you’ve been wanting to hear, but purposefully avoiding for two weeks; finally feeling relief in your chest, your worries escaping out like the summer wind, and even though you should be happy, you can’t even bring yourself to meet his gaze.

“I’m sorry,” you mumble.

“No, I mean– it’s just… I’m sorry too, it’s just…” he trails off, making you look at him with examining eyes, eyebrows raised in question. You don’t really know what he’s apologizing for. Maybe for leaving you space even though he was convinced that’s what you needed– had he approached you earlier, you wouldn’t have to avoid him for two weeks.

“It’s just…?”

“I find it ironic how you thought I wanted to get back together with her, when in reality… you were the one I wanted to get together with in the first place, you know?” he asks, and if you squint hard enough, you could still see hints of nervousness in his body when he asks the rhetorical question, soft eyes scanning your face when your eyes meet.

“Oh,” you hum, mouth agape in surprise.

“Yeah,” he nods, lips pressed into a thin line, “cause I like you… like, a lot, actually, so…” he mumbles, the confession reminding you of your first weeks with Renjun– tense and awkward, but with a promise of something new the more you got to know him.

“Oh,” you repeat again, your brain still not catching up to the situation.

Suddenly, the two weeks of avoidance feel even more silly. You don’t know what happened in you to cause this much distress for the both of you, but you’re filled with delight with the fact that even though you expected him to get mad at you– to call you unreasonable, maybe even a little stupid– he seems to be understanding of your emotions. He seems to accept them, willing to put up with them and everything that requires of him; he seems to be willing to find you even at the end of the world and try to get you back into his life. Because only god knows how much he appreciates your presence in it. 

“So…” he mumbles, a silent question hanging in the air, making you realize you were too caught up in your thoughts to really give him an answer.

“I… I like you too, if that… wasn’t obvious,” you snicker, shrugging as a wide smile spreads across your cheeks. The words fall a little bashfully off your tongue, the confession ringing strangely in your ears, but you don’t mind the little uncomfort the shyness in your demeanor brings you.

There are no long confessions, no deep words of love. Once again, Huang Renjun is a man of few words– he shows you his care through actions. 

He finds you when you’re avoiding him. He makes sure you get home safe. He tries hard to work with you on a project he originally wanted to avoid, only because he notices you finding interest in it, your passion slowly sparking up his. 

He keeps annoying the publicist of your favorite author for a week straight to let you make an interview with her, even though he got declined twice over an email with messages filled with bitter and annoyed words. He remembers your coffee order and he invites you to hang out with his friends to show you that you are now a part of his circle, that you are one of his close ones. He lets you make fun of him with your roommate, but doesn’t give you the same treatment he gives Donghyuck when he tries to bully him. He sends you all the cat pictures he gets from his friend Taeyong, sometimes even asking for some when he hasn’t sent you ones in too long, and he also thinks of you any time he sees the snow– because he gets reminded of the walk you two had in the midst of the snowflakes, even though you hate the cold. 

He reads your favorite book and finds pieces of you scattered all across the pages, he feels his love for you in the poetic words and metaphors hidden in the plot. He lets you dye his hair to signify that a part of his life is now over and a new one started– with you being the main actor of the subtle metamorphosis as he slowly shifts back into his old self, yet now a little wiser. 

He is a man of few words, affection coating them only sometimes, when he reassures you over a mug of hot tea in the evenings before you present your assignments in class and when you get too scared of crowded places; but somehow, the words he keeps to himself translate to you despite not being spoken.

In the beams of the warm sun, you gravitate to him like you’re two planets in the solar system, always sharing the same space. And when his smile meets yours in another kiss, you think that after all, you get the kind of new beginning you wanted in spring.

You and Huang Renjun may be the prime example that love, just like cherry blossoms, always blooms in patience. 

@sakuraslibrary

i always find it so funny that choi seungcheol, mr. modesty himself, has one of the most feral fans in seventeen. i honestly don’t think i’ve seen anything below his left clavicle and yet,,,,

96z catboys nyaaa~

彡 in your favour, i’m in your arms. — choi seungcheol

notes ๑ gn!reader, college setting. guest appearance, jeon wonwoo & kim mingyu. yn’s circle: soonyoung and seungkwan / seungcheol’s circle: jeonghan and joshua!! unrequited love occurs.

genre ๑ fwb/situationship to lovers, angst, fluff.

warnings ๑ physical affection (kissing (part eleven), sleeping in each other’s bed), characters getting drunk, mentions of eating. possessive characters. (lmk if i missed any!!<3)

word count ๑ 12k

from aya: reblog if you enjoyed! i’ve been working on this for 3 months. i hope you enjoy :(；ﾞﾟ'ωﾟ'):.

one, current location — cheol’s apartment.

your phone buzzed and your phone screen lit signing you got a notification. you knew who it was from cause everyone else was muted. “mm— cheol—“ you struggled in between kisses wanting to part so you could read the message. he sighed and only parted his lips yet his face was still close and his hands were on your hips, “yea?” his eyes were on you, and yours was on the text message you just received.

”give me a second, let me reply to this guy,” you moved away from him and unlocked your phone. seungcheol stood at the side and rested his arm on the counter behind you.

you read the text and smiled softly. the text was from a guy you’ve been talking to in class, jeon wonwoo. his text read, “hey, i’m free tomorrow after the class we have together, we can meet up then?”

he was responding to something you said earlier where you asked if he was interested in getting coffee or lunch with you. he said yes but he needed to check his schedule first. he then asked for your phone number so he could message you and let you know.

as you read his response you instantly felt the need to talk about it to your friends. “i gotta go,” you hopped off the stool you were sitting on and gathered your things in a rush, “can you unlock the door please?”

“huh? where are you going?” cheol furrowed his eyebrows and reached out for you arm but you moved too quick, placing your shoes on already. you always stayed until dinner but you had to cut your time with him short. “i’m gonna meet kwan and kwon!” you smiled brightly. your smile brought a warmth to him that no one else could. usually he’d convince you to stay but it seemed like it was an emergency?

“alright take care of yourself okay? tell me when you get back home,” seungcheol opened the door of his apartment and stood against the frame with his arms crossed. “always will! sorry you have to eat dinner alone,” you finished getting your shoes on and stood up.

he tilted his head in confusion and adoration for how you felt bad over something like that. giving you a kiss on the forehead he affirmed, “i think han and shua should be coming home soon but even if they weren’t, it’s okay.” you exchanged your goodbyes and you walked to the elevator simultaneously texting your friends you’d be on your way to their place.

「kwan: 👍」

+

two, current location — kwan and kwon’s.

you ringed the doorbell and didn’t get a response for a few seconds. you turned the doorknob just to try and it turned all the way meaning it was unlocked. you sighed, “soonyoung!” the two were on their couch totally immersed in the k-drama they were watching so they barely noticed you.

seungkwan turned his head and his eyes widened when he saw you. “oh my god-“ he smacked soonyoung’s head. “what!” soonyoung rubbed his head. “you forgot to lock the door? again?” you stomped in frustrated.

“we are actually going to have a burglary and murder case one day,” seungkwan points out as he’s still hitting soonyoung. recently soonyoung has been forgetting to lock the doors of their apartment and it’s becoming a problem.

after the two settled they welcomed you in and poured you a glass of your favourite drink. they bought a carton specially for you. “so what’s up, what story do you have for us today?” seungkwan sat down beside you on the couch.

“you will not guess who i got a date with!” you shifted your position to face the two.

soonyoung looked at you puzzled but based on your excitement, it had to be someone weird, “yoon jeonghan?”

you denied quickly, “no? jeonghan and i would never work out.”

“damn, so you’ve thought about it,” seungkwan rested his chin on his hand in disbelief. “i had to! we played truth or dare and jeonghan asked me if i’d date him! that apartment is like a frat house.”

they snickered at the story, “is it xu minghao?” seungkwan continued.

“oh my god do you think i can get with the xu minghao?”

“no not really.”

you ignored him and showed the text from wonwoo.

“jeon wonwoo!?” soonyoung shouted, “pro gamer jeon wonwoo!?” “the nerdy guy that sits behind you in that one class!?” seungkwan jumped in his seat.

“nerd? i'm pretty sure he benches more than you!?” you argued.

“he does?” soonyoung covered his mouth from shock. “nerdy has nothing to do with the gym,” seungkwan rolled his eyes.

“why is it such a shock? isn’t he hot?”

“hot? i guess but your type? i didn’t think so,” soonyoung squinted his eyes as if he was trying to picture you two together.

seungkwan stood up, hands on his head as if it’s a crisis situation, “how did this even happen?”

you just giggled and shrugged your shoulders, “i don’t know, i’ve talked to him a couple times and i made him laugh one time, next thing i knew, i was asking him out and he said yes.”

seungkwan snorted and teased, “you made him laugh one time? were you pointing a gun at his head that one time?” you hit him with a pillow multiple times.

“so are you letting go of seungcheol?” seungkwan looked at you intently, “wonwoo does not seem like the type who would be okay with your…habits? current routine?” referring to the way you were practically sleeping in seungcheol’s bed every night.

your eyes bounced around the house. if you were being honest, you liked seungcheol and seungcheol was undeniably smitten with you.

but that’s as far as you two go.

it became clear you guys weren’t exclusive when he had no reaction to you going out with someone else that wasn’t him. the zero signs of care in his eyes when you walked by him with the new guy made you understand that he only needed you there for the convenience and to fill the void of affection.

and so you silently told everyone that’s what you wanted as well. at the very least, it wasn’t as heartless as other friends with benefits existing out there, he cared about you and that’s what made it so hard to leave. but eventually, you grew out of it. you wanted to put a label on something.

bottom line, you wanted more.

perhaps that’s why wonwoo was so exciting to you. it’s something new. he’s someone that potentially wants what you want.

soonyoung nodded in agreement, “right? like he seems like he’s into long term, that kind of stuff.”

“guys i haven’t even went out with him yet!” you wailed. “give it awhile then maybe we can start looking further than just friends, you know?”

“of course, of course,” seungkwan raised his eyebrows quietly processing everything.

soonyoung who was sitting on the floor shifted closer to you and rested his cheek on your knee, “what’re you wearing tomorrow?” “omg i don’t know! let’s go plan,” you grabbed him and seungkwan and ran to the guest room where you left some of your clothes in case you stay the night.

+

three, current location — seungcheol, jeonghan & joshua’s apartment.

the sound of the door unlocking echoed into the apartment. “we’re home!” jeonghan and joshua lugged into the space. they were seungcheol’s roommates or more like parasites—

“welcome home, what do you guys wanna eat?” seungcheol got up from the couch. “we can just order today,” jeonghan said before walking into his room to freshen up.

“no yn?” joshua looked around. “no they had to leave to meet up with soonyoung and seungkwan, seemed urgent.”

“urgent?” joshua tilted his head. “yea why?” “the last time yn left for an ‘urgent’ reason, it was cause they started going out with that kim mingyu guy?”

seungcheol scrolled on his phone looking for food to order completely uninterested in the conversation “and?”

“and then you told mingyu to fuck off so mingyu cut ties with yn?” joshua passive-aggressively recalled.

“yeaa, that was funny he didn’t stand a chance with yn, he didn’t even try,” seungcheol scoffed.

joshua looked at seungcheol with a touch of flame in his eyes, “don’t you think you’re being unfair to yn?”

“what do you mean?”

“just asking, have you ever genuinely asked them what they wanted? if they ever wanted to have something more than a friends with benefits?”

“why do you think yn wants that?”

“oh i don’t know, maybe with the fact that despite being with you they’re still trying to see other people? yn and mingyu were a great couple until you crashed it.”

“the fact they came back to me after that, kinda makes it clear they didn’t like him all that much.”

“what are you gonna do when one day they don’t come back?” joshua crossed his arms.

seungcheol looked up from his phone, “why do you care?”

joshua rolled his eyes and started walking to the fridge, “i get it, you two aren’t in a relationship but you and i know you care about yn. i don’t want you to regret something you do or didn’t do in the future.”

seungcheol just exhaled and raised his brows, “alright.”

“so what have you ordered!” jeonghan walked out of his room excitedly. as he noticed the tension in the air he instantly knew, they were talking about you.

jeonghan sighed and went by seungcheol who was aimlessly still looking for food. then, he looked at joshua who seemed to be in heavy spirits.

things that jeonghan knew: jeonghan knew or atleast suspected that seungcheol has feelings for you. jeonghan also knew that joshua was struggling to keep something from seungcheol, something you told him.

—

one night where you stayed over and you all drank, you got drunk but so did seungcheol. you ended up sleeping in joshua’s bed so that he could monitor you. joshua was looking for a trash bag in case you had to throw up while jeonghan was preparing you for sleep. as jeonghan wiped your body with a damp cloth, you happened to utter,

“i really love cheol. i can’t believe we’re just watered down to friends with benefits.”

they both heard it. joshua just stroked your hair with his hands until you were fully asleep.

he couldn’t lie, since then he’s been frustrated cause he knew how good your heart is. as close as he is with cheol, he can’t help but think, isn’t your relationship with cheol was holding you back?

but honestly he felt that you two would end up together one way or another, any interference might mess things up. in the end, the sober two came to the mental agreement it was your situation to deal with.

—

“you are taking too long! order fried chicken and let’s do karaoke today!” jeonghan tried to lighten up the mood. “sorry, grandpa’s struggling to see his screen with his poor eyesight,” joshua targeted to seungcheol. “you didn’t even try to help!” the eldest retorted. joshua laughed at his reaction and got up to set up the living room so that they could watch shows and eat.

at the end of the day they were each other’s rock. joshua was just scared for your feelings with seungcheol’s unpredictable actions.

+

four, current location — college.

you could barely pay attention in class knowing that you were going to go out with wonwoo in a few minutes. you have gone on a ton of dates before but for some reason this one was exciting. it was going to be different from the rest.

the class soon ended and wonwoo stood by your table, “hey.”

“hi!” you greeted him back. “so i was thinking we can go to this restaurant but it’s kinda far.” “it’s okay i have a car,” he smiled wiggling his keys in his hand.

not like it was rare for college students to have a car but you just thought he was extremely cool that your jaw almost dropped from his actions. wonwoo tilted his head to the door, “come, let’s go, send me the location by the way.” you nodded and skipped to his side.

you both got to the parking lot and he opened the door of the passenger seat for you. “thanks,” you said before he closed the door. he was sweet. you didn’t even talk about this being a date but he was certainly treating it like one.

wonwoo got into the car and you went on your phone to send the location of the restaurant. wonwoo was looking to his left where you were sitting and you thought maybe he was staring at you. you did spend around two hours matching clothes you left in seungkwan and soonyoung’s place. you were so close to just going home to look at other clothes but they didn’t let you since it was late at night—

“yn?” “yea?” “do you know them?” he pointed to the window at your side.

low and behold, the devil and the angel, jeonghan and joshua in the car beside you who were practically staring you down out of shock.

you got shocked yourself but thought nothing of it as you lowered your window, “hey!” you casually greeted. “yn! where’re you going?” joshua returned to you.

“gonna go to my favourite restaurant, oh by the way this is wonwoo,” you introduced.

“ah yea, i think i have… one class with you?” jeonghan squinted to the guy behind you. “i think so?” wonwoo pursed his lips.

“well you two have fun, yn are you gonna have dinner at ours later?” joshua asked.

“uhm,” you gave a glance to wonwoo who just gave a soft smile while raising his eyebrows. “i don’t think i will, maybe next time tho!” you rejected.

“ahh gotcha,” jeonghan replied while resting his body on the wheel.

you waved at them saying your goodbyes and closed your window. soon enough wonwoo drove out of the parking.

“you often have dinners at their place?” wonwoo asked curious. “yea, sometimes.” more like you practically live there.

“sounds fun.”

“it is! it’s a really nice way to let off some steam from all of the college stress,” you laughed

what would wonwoo think if he knew what you were actually there for. would wonwoo still go out with you?

-

“did you get a photo of them?” jeonghan peeked at joshua’s phone.

“yup, goodluck to seungcheol,” joshua lightly giggled while looking his screen.

+

five, current location — kwan and kwon’s.

you crashed into the apartment, you don't even know if soonyoung locked the door, “guys i just had the best date ever!”

there was one guy sitting at the center table they had for meals who looked quite reckless and overwhelmed with all of the papers around him, “yn….it is almost midnight,” seungkwan glared.

“bad time?” you asked, backing up.

“nope, i was actually waiting for you so that i had an excuse when i don’t pass up my work tomorrow,” he said getting up and dragging his blanket to the couch.

“what are you gonna say when your teacher asks why you didn't do it?”

“soonyoung ate it.”

you just pursed your lips and nodded simultaneously and suddenly soonyoung’s door swung opened, “is that yn i hear?”

you peaked your head to the hall showing you were present and in an instant, soonyoung ran to the couch, “spill.”

“oh my gosh he's so cool like he owns a car and he drives it!” “wow,” seungkwan says unimpressed.

you looked at him up and down before continuing, “we ate at my favorite restaurant and he said he'd order whatever i recommended and he liked my recommendation!” “i thought this was the best date ever but it's really just starting off like any other date.”

"go back and do your work if you're gonna be such a hater!" you stood up. "continue!! just ignore him!" soonyoung demanded, pulling you down.

"after that, we just walked around a park nearby and we just talked and got to know each other. we're not alike but we can agree on so much!" "oh that's actually very sweet." seungkwan commented.

it was sweet.

you got out of your head and finished explaining your day, "eventually he got tired and so we went back to his car and we talked more but it was getting late so i asked him to send me here but on our way here he kept taking the wrong turn, on purpose!" you recalled. it made you laugh just thinking about it.

"where do you find these guys," soonyoung squinted his eyes. it genuinely felt like a romance from a movie no matter how you see it. "manifesting?" you joked.

"well i'm happy you're happy," seungkwan patted your head. you laid your head on his shoulder, "i am."

it was just the first hangout yet you've never felt happier.

or is that just what you wanted to believe and feel?

-

the next day you woke up in their guest room and used your phone. there you found a notification.

「12:09am wonwoo: do you wanna go out tmr?

7:29am yn: hey! sorry just woke up! but yes, let’s go!

wonwoo: it's kinda late?? are you ready for class?

yn: oops

yn: it's okay they won't miss me.

wonwoo: are you in the same building i dropped you off at yesterday?

yn: yea, why?

wonwoo: i'm picking you up. go get ready.」

+

six, current location — seungcheol, jeonghan & joshua’s apartment.

"seungcheol. hey!" the pillow made a comically 'puff!' sound effect as jeonghan hit his oversleeping roommate up. "you're gonna be late, again, get going," his roommate sighed. for the past two days seungcheol had been waking up without you in his bed. that meant, no human alarm clock. he was like a child who needed his mother to wake him up...as weird as that analogy might sound but it was true. seungcheol sat up, eyes still closed.

"by the way, joshua and i are planning to have bbq tonight, is yn coming? i wanna know how much i have to buy."

"i'll send them a text."

"alsoo, why didn't yn come over yesterday?" jeonghan leaned on the doorframe and asked before leaving. "yesterday? they messaged me saying they had a project."

if seungcheol's eyes were open, he'd be able to see jeonghan's bewildered reaction. you lied about your whereabouts, but for what? jeonghan silently kept his composure and reminded, "alright, well let me know about yn at least before 4pm," before running to joshua's room to report the news.

seungcheol lazily grabbed his phone from his bedside table and searched for your contact to message. it was a foreign feeling, he almost never texted you. ever since you two started wherever you had, you were always with him, except for when you were with mingyu of course, not like that lasted long.

「cheol: you coming over today?

cheol: were having bbq.」

+

six.5, current location — wonwoo’s car.

“i think you should invest in those fancy biometric door locks, at least those lock automatically,” wonwoo suggested after you explained all of the times soonyoung forgot to lock his apartment door out of pure stress. he was amazingly entertained by your stories.

you wheezed, “oh my gosh- that’s so smart actually, i’m gonna tell that to them!” you got your phone out to text your group chat with soonyoung and seungkwan, until you saw notifications from him.

「cheol: you coming over today?

cheol: were having bbq.

cheol: think the guys miss you, they keep asking where you are.

cheol: think i miss you too, it's been hard waking up alone.

cheol: hope you finish your project soon.」

you clicked on your chatroom with seungkwan and soonyoung. afterwards, you cleared your notifications.

"so where are we going later?" you turned to wonwoo.

"i don't know actually i didn't know i was going to pick you up in the morning, i was going to brainstorm where i should take you when i got to class."

you blurted a laugh, "brainstorming a date when you should be paying attention in class"

"oh it's a date?" he glanced at you then back to the road. you covered your mouth, you kept calling your outings with wonwoo a date when you were with seungkwan and soonyoung, it just slipped out. "i’m just playing with you," he stated.

you scoffed and leaned into your seat, "so what are your ideas for later?" "i don't know, i haven't gotten to class yet," he shrugged his shoulders. you playfully rolled your eyes, "don't think about it too much, listen to your lecturer. i don't want to be the cause of you failing your classes."

"little late for that, i literally skipped my study group to hang out with you yesterday," he admitted.

you shot back up, "wonwoo!" you said in a whiney tone. he held back a smile as you scolded him for his lack of seriousness towards his school life. it lasted the whole ride until you reached campus.

little did you know, wonwoo had been eyeing you for a while. of course, he'd skip a class or two just to hangout with you. luckily, he found being with you worth the skip.

+

part seven , current location — yn’s favourite cafe.

few days had passed and you still haven’t replied to cheol's messages. maybe you can live a life without him.

-

"order for yn!" joshua called out brightly, he got excited when he got a glimpse of your name on the cup that held the contents of your signature drink. he didn't think he'd see you today at his part-time job, you usually only came on weekends or in the late hours of the weekdays. he hadn't seen your face in a while and he honestly missed your presence in the apartment.

until he realised it was in fact not you ordering.

his expression changed in a flicker of a switch, "what the hell are you doing cheol?"

seungcheol raised a brow, "i'm ordering?"

"ordering yn's usual drink under their name? do you miss them that much that you have turned to impersonating them?" joshua pushed the cup towards his friend.

"i'm not weird like that, i’m gonna give it to them if i can find them today."

the barista created an 'o' with his mouth, he was proud of the effort. he carefully packed your drink into a bag and stuffed in the straw and some tissues. he even snuck in a free lollipop of your favourite flavour before lightly pushing the bag to cheol, "yn's class is a completely opposite to your building, sure you can make it?"

seungcheol scoffed, "of course."

joshua had his elbows on the counter, face resting on his hand. "have fun then, say hi to yn for me," he said in a teasing manner.

seungcheol nodded lazily and got on his phone after waving goodbye to his roommate.

+

seven.5 , current location — outside your class.

tapping away at your phone, you leaned on the wall outside the class you just finished. it was your last class so you were free for the day but wonwoo’s class was running longer than yours so you had to wait.

he had messaged you saying that he would be the one to go to you and you had no objections since you didn’t even know where his class was anyways. soon as you replied to wonwoo, you heard a familiar voice, a voice you recognised all too well.

“yn,” cheol quietly called out to get your attention.

you instantly stood up straight and placed your phone into your pocket, “cheol? what’s up!…what are you doing here?” your tone sounded mildly excited but astonished at the same time. you furrowed your eyebrows knowing his next class was located on the opposite side of the campus, yet he was here, you couldn't help but question it. “just dropping this off,” he subdued a smile while extending his arm to give you the drink. “hope it gives you energy during your project, how’s that going by the way?”

you held the drink in one hand and the other held tissues cheol provided. your heart sunk as he mentioned the project but you still continued the lie. “wow thanks, this is so sweet cheol! and the projects going well but we’re kinda slow,” you let out a breathy laugh.

“well don’t burn yourself out. if ever you need a break, my door is always open,” he gently reminded. “anyways, i gotta get to class. tell me if you need anything alright, we may not be under the same major but i could probably assist.”

“psh, of course, i have your number.”

he patted your head before leaving. as he walked past you, you got a whiff of his scent. it was a prominent smell, it was easy on your nose and you hate to admit but it was comforting. you felt your chest burn as he disappears from your sight. your heartbeat was rising and you knew it was because of him. time how does he manage to make you feel like this all the time.

you brought the drink closer to your chest and let out a sigh. you read the label which had the contents of your drink printed on. it was completely accurate to what you always order. only cheol could ever remember it. as you took a sip from the drink you started to wonder why you were avoiding him. should you come over tonight? you thought about it until you felt a tap on your shoulder.

you swiftly turned around and you were dragged down back to earth. wonwoo stood behind you with his head tilted with concern on his face, “penny for a thought?”

“wonwoo!” you greeted, “what do you mean?” you questioned after processing what he had said. “you seemed like you were in deep thought. you feeling okay?” he asked as he leaned on the wall beside you.

“never been better," you expressed with a sweet smile.

he nodded and sighed his worry away. his eyes trailed downwards and yours followed. you raised a brow confused but then he pointed downwards with a playful frown, “you got a drink without me?” you giggled and placed your arm around his shoulders, “i’ll go buy you one stop sulking.”

+

eight , current location — wonwoo's apartment.

wonwoo stepped into his apartment, his footsteps for some reason, felt lighter than the day before. he'd just came back from his outing with you and he couldn’t lie, those hangouts really made his days brighter. he’s smiling just thinking about it.

"you came home late today," his roommate, kim mingyu pointed out as if he were a mother waiting at home, worried sick about his son who goes out too much. in reality, wonwoo and mingyu weren't even close, they just happened to live together cause rent was expensive. but mingyu had always hoped to get closer with wonwoo and he took every chance he could to start a conversation with him.

"yea, was out with someone," wonwoo replied as he hung his bag on one of the dining table chairs.

mingyu got up from the couch and walked to the fridge fiddling with the things inside it, he was actually just closing the distance between him and wonwoo as much as he could. it seemed like today was a good day since usually, wonwoo would just head straight into his room but today he sat at the dining table. he never does that!

mingyu glanced at wonwoo and prolonged the conversation, “like a date?“

“i wouldn’t call it that, more like whatever you do after a talking stage i guess.”

mingyu shot a proud smile and crossed his arms, “no wonder you’ve been so smiley, what’s their name?”

“would you know them?” wonwoo asked but his eyes were on his phone since he was helping you find electronic door locks for your friends door.

“most probably, campus may be big but i know most people.”

“true,” wonwoo looked at mingyu as he nodded in agreement knowing how extroverted his roommate can be, “their names yn,” he answered before returning his eyes to his phone.

a sudden deafening silence washed over the room. mingyu took too long to respond.

wonwoo looked up, “what’s wrong?” he became concerned, wondering what caught the curious cat’s tongue.

there was a clear look of dislike on mingyu’s face as his smile disappeared and the look in his eyes changed.

“yn ln?” the roommate confirmed. wonwoo pursed his lips and looked up to recall, “yeah, i think that’s their last name.”

mingyu shortly laughed but wonwoo could tell it was a type of laugh not for something funny, but for something that was unbelievable, “no fucking way,” mingyu spat.

wonwoo furrowed his eyebrows, he assumed mingyu was just making fun of him, like mingyu thought he wasn’t good enough for you, “is there a problem?” he asked defensively.

“not at all, just, look for someone else, yn’s not worth your time.”

wonwoo’s heart dropped and suddenly his feet felt heavy again.

then again he knew his roommate was a semi brat. in the sense that he’s nice and all but he might hold a grudge if something doesn’t go his way. wonwoo sighed slightly uninterested in the topic, what could he possibly have to say about you?

wonwoo thought, at the very least you must’ve just rejected mingyu and it fucked with his ego big time. in any case wonwoo was always willing to listen but that doesn’t mean he’ll pick sides. “what makes you say that?”

“i get the attraction to yn, i knew them from last semester. i’m sure you’ve heard, they’re a great friend and that may be true i don’t know about that but from what i know, yn isn’t all that great in terms of romance, trust me.”

“what do you know?” wonwoo faced mingyu.

“long story short i’ve went out with yn last sem and they were fun but, yn has some ties i’m pretty sure they haven’t let go off even until today. my relationship with yn didn't last long because of said ties,”

“can you stop beating around the bush? just tell me exactly what happened between you and yn,” wonwoo firmly spoke.

mingyu gave a glare to wonwoo as he rested his jaw on his hand, recalling the story, “there’s this guy yn's super close with, you should know him, his names choi seungcheol, he's from a different department but he's popular. he and yn has been in a whole will they won’t they period, you sure you wanna go out with someone like that?"

"that was last sem, a lot could change in a few months.”

mingyu scorned, bobbing his head forward, "i literally saw yn walk to his class a few days ago, i don’t think anything has changed, regardless, why would you go out with someone with a past like that?"

"because people can change. plus, i’m not a child, what happens between yn and i is for me to deal with,” wonwoo spoke without even batting an eye to the taller man.

“suit yourself,” mingyu shook his head and walked away. he thought today was the day he could finally get closer with his roommate and ease the awkwardness but today, the distance has never been bigger.

wonwoo picked up some food and a bottle of water before descending into his room hoping that would be enough so that he wouldn't have to cross paths with mingyu for awhile. he felt a bit frustrated. he knew in his heart that you were good but then again, why would mingyu lie to him?

+

nine , current location — wonwoo’s car.

it was the next day, wonwoo had offered to pick you up again.

wonwoo tapped to the beat of the song on the radio onto the wheel of his car while waiting for you. until, from the corner of his eye, he saw you ecstatically running down the steps of your building.

he launched forward slightly to reach your car door, opening it from he inside, "hi yn."

"wonwoo!" you greeted energetically. he enjoyed hearing it but, at the same time, there was a tinge of bitterness as it rolled into his ears when he heard your voice today.

you sat down with a grin and you went on talking about your morning, the usual.

you usually did the talking as wonwoo listened.

and wonwoo was known for being quiet, but this level of quietness was unusual, even for him.

"wonwoo?" you called out. it was as if he was mentally elsewhere.

he was. he was stuck with his thoughts since last night. in his head, there were lingering questions about your past relationships. do you know a seungcheol? did you even know who mingyu was?

"sorry, didn't get enough sleep last night," he laughed it off.

shit, whatever mingyu told him that night stuck to him.

+

ten , current location — college cafeteria.

“gosh- yn i’ll change the date for you!” chan, your peer or more like your little brother held onto your forearms. he was sitting across you and he was practically off his seat convincing you to do something for him.

“you’ll what?” you snickered at his words.

“when are you free? i’ll move the party to that date.”

your hand that held your food fell to the table out of disbelief, “now why would you stoop that low chan?”

“i wanna meet new people and you have the best connections out of everyone in campus.”

“so you're using me?”

“you're fun as well," he innocently fluttered his eyes.

"then you'll have no problems with only me attending then?" you smiled like the joker.

he scoffed and rolled his eyes, "at least bring seungcheol and his friends while you're at it, if they go then surely, tons of people will come."

your eyes widened at his words but you could only bare to sigh, "you've become greedy chan."

"does that mean you'll bring him?"

you laughed, sighing softly until you remembered a tiny problem.

you had 5 unread messages from cheol.

but perhaps, someone other than cheol could come.

+

ten.5 , current location — college.

you and wonwoo sat on the grass. it had became a staple spot you both met at since it was conveniently close to your classes. you were sitting across each other sharing some convenience store food. you decided to bring the question up.

“hey do you know lee chan?”

“yea, why?” wonwoo was still picking on the grass but he made eye contact with you. “he has this party on friday night, are you interested in going?”

wonwoo stayed silent so the fear of rejection creeped up on you.

“you don’t have to go, i’m just offering an invite.”

“think im busy that day, sorry,” he said as he pursed his lips in guilt.

you gave a reassuring smile and brushed his hair with your fingers, “it’s alright.”

“im really sorry yn.”

you let a mischievous grin slip and played with him a bit. you placed your face into your hands, covering it hinting that you were upset.

“ahh yn don’t be like that.”

you spoke in a whiny tone to add to the act, “but this should’ve been our first party together—“

but suddenly his arms wrapped around your waist and he placed his head on yours.

he didn’t know what else to do but this.

“we’ll get to the next one, okay?” he does want to go it just happened that he can’t this time.

honestly you did want to feel disappointed that wonwoo couldn’t come. but you didn’t.

even with his words and actions that were meant to tell you ‘you have my full interest’. you didn’t feel anything from it.

you didn’t feel shit for him.

-

you’ve wounded up here again because there was no way you were going to attend a party alone.

cause how could you say no to chan.

this was for chan.

you’re only messaging him for chan.

「yn: do you want to go to a party?

cheol: depends, who’s is it?

yn: my little brother

cheol: …? did your parents conceive another child

yn: he’s not my biological brother

cheol: adopted?

yn: it’s lee chan

cheol: 💀

cheol: when is it?」

+

eleven , current location — lee chan’s party.

cheol’s arm snaked around your waist, “ready to go in?” he asked. “yea,” you confidently answered. this was like the thousandth party you’ve attended, why did he have to ask.

he opened the door and the once muffled cheers were heard perfectly. you flinched slightly at the noise to which he chuckled at.

you playfully rolled your eyes at him and walked in.

it reeked of alcohol already. it wasn’t as crowded as other parties you’ve attended but it was certainly something that could be considered a party.

cheol kept you close, having your back sandwiched to his chest as he held you by your shoulders. slowly, you passed through all the people and found your way to the drinks.

cheol instantly poured you your favourite drink and placed it in your hands as he swiftly poured himself one as well. you tapped your cup against his and downed it all in one go. no matter if you could actually handle it or if it was just for show, it still entertained seungcheol every time.

“yn! you’re here!” chan ran to you excitedly. “of course, why wouldn’t i?” you giggled.

“thank you for coming seungcheol!” he suddenly bowed to which seungcheol quickly pushed up the younger boy to stand up straight. “you’re nice, good thing you didn’t take after this mean senior,” cheol teased as he patted your head.

“hey you have never bowed to me ever, what’s so special about cheol?” you brought up to chan.

“he’s him, you’re you,” he coldly said. you turned to cheol who was covering his cheeky grin with his cup.

from afar it looked like you were scolding your husband and son.

“well enjoy the party, let me know if you guys want other drinks i’ll get it for you!” chan said as he skipped away with a smile.

“well obviously you’re not biologically related to someone like him,” cheol leaned on the kitchen counter as he turned to you with a smug look on his face.

“what’s that supposed to mean?” you questioned as you took a sip from your cup.

“he’s sweet.”

“what does that make me?”

“mm..” he hummed.

slowly, he leaned in towards you, closing he distance between you two as he casually placed his hand on your hip. pulling you closer, he held your chin and tilted your head upwards.

there on your neck, he placed a soft kiss.

“ahh, you’re sweeter than him.”

you felt a burn in your heart.

you squeezed the drink in your hand, thinking of how to respond. but you couldn’t even think.

next thing you knew, your body reacted in its own.

you grabbed his hand that held your face and leaned in, kissing him on the lips.

it must’ve been weeks since you’ve done this.

he parted away from you, furrowing his brows. as far as he remembered, he was always the one who initiated kisses.

not like it was a rule but this was new. perhaps you missed him?

you couldn’t lie, you did.

he held you by your chin, taking a good look at your helpless expression but as he saw a pout form on your lips, how could he not give you what you wanted?

he pulled you closer, continuing the kiss.

gosh, he still had you wrapped around your finger.

it was sensual and passionate. you placed your arms around his neck pulling him closer as if he was going away but his hands softly caressed and slid against your back reassuring you he was here to stay.

you parted away, letting out a breathe. “i’ve missed you,” you blurted as you rested your head into the crook of his neck.

he smirked at your words as he patted your head, “you did?”

you couldn’t face him with how desperate you were being but nodded to answer his question.

“can’t be helped, you had that project right,” he took another sip from his cup.

you clenched your jaw and scrunched cheol’s jacket in your fist. that lie was lingered with guilt in your heart.

“yn? you barely finished your cup, don’t tell me you’re already tipsy,” he giggled as he glided his fingertips on your back.

suddenly, you stood up straight, placing your cup in his hands and walked off, “i’m going to the washroom.”

seungcheol didn’t think much of it, he just nodded and bopped his head to the music and waited for your return.

-

like any other party, there was a line but luckily, it wasn’t long. you decided to go on your phone to pass time while waiting but it wasn’t necessary since someone tapped on your shoulder.

you swung your head to look at who it was, it was someone you weren’t expecting.

it was a girl named mira, behind mira was a few other girls, probably her clique. you knew her due to being in the same class but you didn’t know much about her or the group in general, but it was evident they wanted something.

you leaned back into the wall confused on why she didn’t start talking despite you giving her attention. “can i help you?” you tilted your head.

she seemed hesitant as she fiddled with the ends of her clothes but eventually, she spoke when her friend nudged her, “uhm, you’re close with choi seungcheol right?”

‘duh, did you not see us earlier?’ is what you would’ve said but you had some decency.

“i am, why?” you crossed your arms.

“you two aren’t dating or anything, right,” a friend behind her smirked as she walked forward, asserting some dominance.

“what’s it to you?” you looked back at your phone after realising what they were here for. this was actually the first time people were running to you asking for favours for seungcheol. you’ve always experienced people asking for help with jeonghan, joshua and others but never seungcheol.

and you had underlying feelings for cheol. not like anyone knew about it but that wasn’t he point. it’s the fact that these girls clearly knew there must’ve been something between you and cheol, yet they’re still ambushing you hoping for a tip. that shit irked you.

“mira here wants his number. since you two aren’t dating, it’s okay to give it right?” the friend answered.

you looked at her up and down before going back on your phone. cheol would hate a girl that was too shy to ask personally.

you were thinking of just ignoring them but by then, the washroom was finally free so just before you walked in you replied with a firm, “no.”

you could hear them clicking their tongue as they walked away and heard the rage and it made you giggle a bit.

but god, your possessiveness over cheol only made it ever so clear that you weren’t over him.

-

when you walked out the toilet they were already gone and you made your way back to seungcheol.

“you ‘kay?” cheol brushed your hair as you fit yourself between his legs and rested your head on his chest. “yeah.”

he gave back your cup and used her free hand to hold yours. you looked down at your interwined hands and couldn’t hold back a smile.

then you wondered, if cheol was asked for his phone number directly, would he have given it?

you and cheol were pretty open to each other so you had no trouble bringing it up.

“cheol, this girl wants your number, should i give it?” you titled your head upwards to look at him.

he squinted his eyes at your words but he slowly responded, “i mean you can?”

ah. he’d accept it.

or so you thought.

just as your heart sunk, he continued, “i’m probably not going to reply to them but you can,” he chuckled.

you quickly turned and faced him, “huh? why not?”

“cause, i have you?” he raised a brow.

suddenly it’s as if the music had stopped.

did cheol actually think of you two as exclusive for once?

you couldn’t take your eyes off him but he didn’t think much of the way you were blatantly staring at him cause you did it often.

“wanna go dance?” he twirled your hair with his finger.

you snapped out of your daze, “uh- ha? since when do we dance at parties?” you laughed. you both usually only went to parties for the drinks, the vibes and nothing more but cheol felt like partying tonight.

“don’t know, just feel like it,” he gave a gummy smile.

“let’s go then,” you pulled him with a grin as he followed behind you.

you actually got it wrong earlier when you thought that he would hate a girl that was too shy because the correct version of that statement was that cheol would hate it if anyone but you tries to get with him.

you two got to the dance floor, residing somewhere at the side and instantly got into it but you fell into embarrassment as you moved to the beat of the music. cheol on the other hand seemed to have a plethora of dance skills up his sleeve. in this moment, his cold aura was gone. as he saw you covering your face, he pulled you out of your shell and held your hands. he guided you and placed your arms around his shoulders and you two swayed to the trap music as if it were classical jazz. the situation was slightly comedic, you both got a good laugh out of it.

it was these moments you shared with cheol that made you fall in love with him. and cheol would share this side of him with you and you only. if it were anyone else he probably wouldn’t feel comfortable enough to do so.

you both were practically gasping for air after laughing. you looked at him in awe as he did too. naturally, he leaned in for a kiss.

and his kisses felt like home. this was where you were meant to be.

the moment was perfect.

click, the sound of a camera shutter echoed but it was faint. it was way too faint for you to notice.

-

「mingyu: look at who i saw today at a party.

wonwoo: ?

mingyu: sent an image attachment」

+

twelve , current location — who’s apartment???

you went home with cheol that night. not like you had a choice since you were out of it.

“oh we’re here! kwaan, soonyoungie?” you slurred as the front door opened.

like meerkats, their heads turned simultaneously to the source of the sound.

“yn?” jeonghan jumped off the couch and ran to the front door excitedly. he prominently blurted out an ugly laugh that echoed through the buildings hallway as he got a good look at your face, “shit, they’re so fucking shit faced, what happened?”

“happened to get a reality check mid dancing. after that they proceeded to drink every cup they saw,” seungcheol laughed.

“are they good?” joshua slowly walked towards the three of you as he helped seungcheol bring you in. you were hanging on seungcheol by a thread. seungcheol had to continuously fling your arm around his shoulders so that he could somewhat carry you. even in the car he had to monitor and hold you up by placing his arms across your chest as an extra seatbelt to hold you upright cause if you were to hit your head on the dashboard, you’d be gone.

“i’m gonna freshen them up, can you guys get me a damp towel?” seungcheol looked to his roommates and surely, they followed the request as it was for you.

seungcheol rested you on his bed and wiped your face wth the damp towel jeonghan prepared. he even changed your shirt cause it reeked of alcohol.

soon enough he was laying beside you, joshua and jeonghan spectated at the side of the bed.

“so, yn’s back huh?” joshua crossed his arms.

“yeah,” seungcheol bluntly said as he ran his finger through your hair.

jeonghan had a smirk on his face, “you seem touchier with yn, what happened?”

he eyed the two of them, slightly annoyed but he knew they’d never shut up about it unless he gave a proper answer. “i guess you could say i don’t want to take them for granted anymore.”

“shit, really?“ joshua smiled widely.

“what’s when the reaction?” cheol stopped stroking your hair as he saw the roommates devilish expression.

“nothing it’s just, isn’t this you basically saying you admit you like yn?”

seungcheol’s eyes drifted back to you and he looked at you sincerely.

“yea, i like yn.”

joshua took a breathe and nodded. “glad you could admit it,” he clapped his hands quietly.

“well i’ll leave you two to it,” he said as he patted his friends back and exited the room with jeonghan following him.

there it was.

choi seungcheol likes you.

actually if he was a bit more honest, he would’ve admitted he loves okay but perhaps it was a bit too early for that.

but he was sure of it. after all, those few weeks you were gone must’ve been the most tough to get through without you there to brighten his day.

after that day you didn’t stay for dinner, seungcheol couldn’t lie or hide the fact he was upset by it but hey, what’s it to him? you’re not his, and why should his mood matter if you were there or not.

the second day you were gone, you didn’t even pass by his class like you usually would. he couldn’t help but wonder where were you the whole day. he’d been spending the day refreshing his feed like a fool waiting for an update of you on social media but he was mildly proud that you must’ve been so focused on your project that you didn’t go online. he loved an academically focused person.

but maybe it was for the better. seungcheol never wanted to fall for you. and seungcheol always thought that with the distance between you and him, these meek feelings would fade. but he couldn’t be more wrong.

because few days had passed and he literally found himself at your favourite cafe. was he finding excuses to see you? no, he was there cause he thought you needed a treat especially since you were working so hard on this project. but by this point he couldn’t deny his feelings. choi seungcheol liked you. seeing your face again after not-so-many-days. he felt like he was at home. the way his heart fluttered at the way you cutely turned your head when you heard his voice. your smile that shined. he wanted to call you his.

and ultimately, seungcheol could not deny his feelings any longer. especially not when he jumped out of his bed after receiving a text from you. he was so incredibly lucky that day. he was so lucky you texted him and he was so lucky jeonghan and joshua wasn’t home to hear his cheer of joy.

he was even luckier today since the person he loved most was finally back in his bed.

“kwannie, i need water,” you rolled over, facing seungcheol. he held back his laugh, you really thought you were at seungkwan’s place?

“here,” he placed the cup to your lips as you drank momentarily.

you stopped drinking and seungcheol placed the cup at the bedside table. his hands traced the outline of your body.

all that filled in his head was that if he was to make things official with you, there was no way he was going to fuck it up. he believed that you belong with him.

-

you woke up, head pounding. you swear you might die from the pain.

you mustered up the strength to sit up straight. you took a breathe in and that’s what woke you up. the scent of your surroundings that was one of a kind, you instantly became aware of the situation.

gosh you ended up sleeping in his bed again?

but you weren’t too bothered. there was a slight feeling of comfort that this is where you woke up.

you freshened yourself up in the washroom then walked outside the room.

you stood close to the door and you could hear someone in the kitchen but other than that there was no person in sight.

“looking for seungcheol?” joshua’s head peeped out from the kitchen giving you a startle.

“shit joshua— uhm yea, where is he?”

“not sure, he left a bit in a hurry but i’m sure he’ll be back.”

you hummed and lightly smiled, walking to the kitchen to get a glass of water. you leaned by the stove joshua was cooking at and he glanced at you. “want me to cook you something?”

“i think i’ll just have a bowl of cereal.”

he was amused, you always had cereal at their place for some reason even if it was night time. “go for it,” joshua grabbed the box of your favourite cereal from the cupboard above him. they always made a mental note to buy it when doing groceries despite you being the only one who ate it.

as you poured yourself a bowl, joshua started a conversation.

“so, not like i don’t like that you’re here, i'm actually glad but, i thought you were getting closer with wonwoo?”

shit.

you forgot all about him.

“oh well i was more or less hanging out with him in the friendly sense yknow.”

joshua tilted his head, listening intently, “i see.”

you also completely forgot joshua and jeonghan had full knowledge about you going out with someone that wasn’t cheol yet they’re treating you as if nothing happened. you couldn’t help but wonder why.

“hey, did you think it was weird i went out with wonwoo?” you couldn’t hold back your curiosity.

joshua’s eyes were focused on the dish he was preparing but he still answered wholeheartedly, “not at all, i mean you said it yourself you went out with wonwoo in the friendly sense, right?”

you went silent and joshua didn’t miss a beat to tease you, “or is that not the case?” he asked with wide eyes.

you were appalled and could only let out a nervous laugh. eventually joshua felt bad and told you his honest opinion.

“regardless if you were or not, you and seungcheol were never exclusive, so why would it be weird?” he asked as he faced you. you sullenly nodded your head as you followed him to the dining table with your meals so that you could sit.

“shua?”

“yea?”

“does cheol know i went out with wonwoo?”

he was just about to take a bite of his meal but he couldn’t help but laugh at your question. “are you afraid he does?”

you nodded a yes as you took a bite of your cereal.

“yn, do you like seungcheol?”

you were once again taken aback. no one has ever asked you if you liked cheol. it was always are you dating him or something of the sort but never an explicit, do you like him.

well it’s not like you were fighting wars to hide it but you just never wanted to answer it. but what was the point of lying now.

“yea.”

joshua let out a breath and smiled. “glad you could admit it.”

“you could tell?”

“i mean. i understand the concept of friends with benefits but you and seungcheol seem beyond it.”

you tapped your spoon on the milk, taking in joshua’s words.

“so you’re afraid seungcheol’s knows you went out with wonwoo because you think seungcheol would drop you afterwards?” he tried to puzzle the pieces together.

you expressed a yes and he sighed. “well i can’t blame you, you must’ve been tired of waiting for seungcheol, right?”

you finally raised your head up. that’s exactly how you felt.

he giggled at your expression, he could tell you’ve been bottling this in.

“well yn, what’s your plan for now?”

“i don’t know. but i think firstly, i need to talk to wonwoo.”

joshua rested his chin in between his fingers, he wasn’t expecting that but he could see where you were going with it.

“well i support you, if you need help i’m here.”

you acknowledged his words with a smile and coincidentally, the front door opened.

you heard a plastic bag rustling and sounds of shoes tapping on the floor, there cheol stood, surprised to see you awake.

“hey, eating breakfast without me?” he pouted.

“where were you?” you crossed your arms.

he scowled and swung the plastic bag in front of your face before taking a seat beside you, “i was buying you some stuff that might help with your hangover.”

ah, that’s right, he always bought you stuff like this.

your eyes lingered in his in awe. he was too busy reading the contents of the things he bought to notice.

“your head alright?”

“a bit.”

“okay well you can take this after you’ve eaten then,” he pointed towards one of the pills as he patted your head.

you and seungcheol were never exclusive. but you wished you were.

and maybe you could.

cause his touch felt like home. being here by his side felt like home.

suddenly the regret of your decisions seeped in. what the fuck have you done.

+

thirteen , current location — wonwoo’s room.

wonwoo was just having a peaceful friday night. he always spent his friday nights like these, it was a way to recharge before another week of school falls upon him.

but for some reason, he couldn’t help but wonder should he be at the party with you. wonwoo was no stranger to your general character.

he knew you were pretty popular, he never knew for what reasons but you were still always humble about it. he knew that many people found you good looking cause he was one of those people. he couldn’t tell what type of person you’d be but as he hung out with you, he realised there was so much more to you than looks.

cause you had humour, you had drive and you had passion. sure it’s not rare to find people like that but to wonwoo, someone who likes to keep to himself, found himself wanting to be with you. that meant something to him.

cause wonwoo has tried to date but no one has appealed to him as much as you have.

and so wonwoo also knew that you liked partying hence why, if he was to prolong his relationship with you, shouldn’t he be making efforts to be with you?

until that text popped up.

「mingyu: sent an attachment」

a clearly zoomed in photo of you in seungcheol’s arms, kissing.

parts of him was disgusted at his roommate for taking photos of you without permission.

plus, the reasoning of why mingyu sent it was annoying. it was like a big slap of ‘i told you’ onto wonwoo.

but honestly there wasn’t any pain felt as the image projected into his brain.

because wonwoo wasn’t that dumb.

he may have been in denial about that seungcheol guy existing but he was not dumb.

wonwoo has noticed the way you stare at your phone as if you’re waiting for someone to text you. he’s noticed the way you get so frazzled when you’re at campus hanging out with wonwoo, it was like you were expecting someone to show up.

he’s also noticed the widgets of you and another guy on your phone that you never got rid of. he just assumed it must’ve been a guy best friend but as it turns out, those photo widgets were selfies of you and seungcheol.

wonwoo knew you would never be his. he knew it since the day you asked to get coffee or lunch with him because though you were with him, through the lack of eye contact, lack of reciprocation of advances, wonwoo didn't need a hint to know your heart was or must've been with someone else. it only solidified when mingyu brought up your past. after that, there was no denying, he had no chance with you.

but even with how things ended up, he’s embarrassed to say that he would say yes if you asked to get coffee or lunch again.

because you were a good first date.

but the thing about dates is that they always come to an end, right.

he realised that as he woke up the next morning and all that filled his mind was that he needed to talk about it with you.

because if he didn't end things now, he might just continue being with you despite knowing there was someone else in the picture.

but he was better than that, so he texted you.

「wonwoo: hey, i need to talk to you, in person.

yn: oh, is everything alright?

wonwoo: yea

yn: okay, where are we meeting?」

well. he enjoyed it while it lasted.

fourteen , current location — some cafe.

you both agreed on meeting at a cafe nearby campus so that it wouldn’t be too confusing.

you got there first, sitting comfortably while texting wonwoo where you were for some direction.

though you sat comfortably, there was an unsettling feeling lingering. cause you couldn’t guess what wonwoo possibly wanted to talk about.

but he showed up and in your eyes, he seemed normal.

he ordered a drink and soon sat in front of you.

“hi wonwoo," you plastered on a smile.

"hi yn," he returned the smile.

"so what did you want to talk about?"

he swirled his drink with a spoon, he seemed hesitant to start but he just wanted to get it over with, any longer and he might just chicken out and act like nothing happened.

"well i’ll be straightforward with you so be honest with me, are you seeing someone right now?" he asked not threateningly but more in a, 'let me understand you' way.

you were taken aback. out of all of the things wonwoo could've spoken about, wonwoo questioning your relationship status was something you didn't expect.

what possibly made him ask this.

"why are you asking?"

“well i have this roommate, he seems to know a bit too much about you. when he found out you and i were hanging out, he didn’t really like it. he wounded up sending me a photo of you and another guy at the party last night.”

fuck, the situation was really bad. it was out of your control.

especially with the way yesterday’s events rolled into your head, you and seungcheol were so close. you could only imagine what the photo portrayed.

your head instantly shot down and you could only apologise.

you did notice the ways wonwoo hinted he liked you. you couldn't imagine how wonwoo was feeling in this moment.

“i’m sorry wonwoo.”

“i don’t really know why you’re saying sorry,” he softly chuckled as he leaned back into his chair. “it’s not like you and i are dating.”

he was right, yet, you felt so much guilt.

“i’m only asking because i didn’t know you were seeing someone,” he continued.

“well i’m not actually exclusive with him,” you muttered.

his eyes showed his shock, that kinda sucked to hear, “so are you like this with everyone?”

“no! no, it’s just, i wasn’t seeing him during the time you and i were hanging out, i promise—“

wonwoo cut you off, he didn’t want you to be stressed over this, especially not when you and him weren’t exclusive either, “yn, it’s okay, whether you were seeing him or not, i don’t have a say in that. besides, your outings with me were only platonic right?”

as much as neither of you found the outings platonic, it was technically the bitter truth.

“i know but, i liked hanging out with you,” you said with some sort of desperation in your voice.

“me too.”

“i liked you wonwoo.”

“but you love him, right?”

your eyes were glued to the table, you swear you could hear your heartbeat in your ears.

“it’s okay, we tried,” wonwoo patted your head.

you were always the one who took the lead in conversations so he’s never seen you so silent. and your silence was worrying to him.

with sincere eyes, wonwoo got to your eye level and smiled, “i don’t resent you yn.”

he was so gentle with you, he made you believe you did nothing wrong.

“really?” you lifted up your head.

he had a smile plastered on the whole time which was comforting at the very least but at the same time, it stung you, cause how could he be so calm about this indirect rejection. on top of it all, you acted without thinking about how this affects wonwoo.

but he answered with such kindness, it killed you.

“yea? i still think you’re really cool, sure it’s a shame we didn’t work out but i can’t be mad at you for finding someone else. well if anything, i’m happy for you, i think you’re lucky.”

“lucky?”

“like, to find someone is lucky, not everyone gets to experience love like that at this age. i mean, i don’t know if your relationship with him is like that. but i just hope that when you find someone that gives you their all in the future, you don’t take it for granted because you deserve the best.”

"i hear you wonwoo, thank you."

wonwoo always knew what to say. it’s truly unfortunate you weren’t in love with him but, the least you could do right now was oblige to his hopes.

fifteen , current location — on the sidewalk.

‘you’re lucky.’

if anything you were lucky to have met wonwoo because without him, you wouldn’t have realised that all that you were looking for was right in front of you.

you’ve been holding back for so long and you’ve lost and hurt people because of it, you were done with that.

most of all, you were tired of acting like you weren’t in love with cheol.

the sun was disappearing and the streetlights were starting to light up but you couldn’t go to sleep until you saw him. your favourite cafe was somewhere cheol could reach quickly. you hurriedly walked on the sidewalk as you made you way to the cafe while simultaneously finding cheol’s contact to call him. as it was you calling, he picked up within one beep.

“yes yn? whats up—“ “meet me at my favourite cafe right now,” you cut him off.

you’d probably never find out but his heart dropped at an alarming speed as he heard you words. nevertheless, he responded in a heartbeat, “i’m coming.”

-

surely, he arrived in just a few minutes.

he easily spotted you awkwardly standing outside the cafe. he jogged towards you, hands in his pockets. his dimples deepened as he greeted you with a smile, “were you bored of something?” he laughed. it was common for you to drag seungcheol out at night so it wasn’t like he was weirded out by this spontaneous call.

“i just dumped a guy,” you blurted. i mean, more like he dumped you but that wasn’t important.

seungcheol’s eyes widened and instantly his smile faded, “what?“

“i dumped a guy because i don’t think i could be with someone that wasn’t you,” your head was tilted down as you dug cresents into your arm. you don’t think you could continue to see cheol without telling him this.

he took a step towards you as he took your hands into his, "what?"

"why have you never asked me out?" you looked at him woefully as you squeezed his hands.

seungcheol didn't know how to react. it was as if his dreams were coming true with your indirect confession but you were clearly hurt and he hated that he made you feel this way.

he knew he strayed from his feelings from you but that was only because he always thought that you were made for someone else.

but perhaps that someone was him.

"i kept going out with people but every fucking time, i only end up thinking about you," you spoke as if you were frustrated, and you were.

it was almost as if the way you felt was irreparable. but he caressed your face with his hand and he looked into your eyes sincerely.

“i’m sorry if i ever made you feel like you were unwanted, that was truly never my intentions yn, believe me,” his face was full of visible concern, fear even. but he continued, filling the silence of the tranquil night, “yn, i’m sorry for making you wait. if it’s not too late i’m willing to make something out of us as long you are aswell.

you blinked your eyes unsure if this was reality but the grip his hand hand on yours was like a pinch telling you this was all real.

“you’re willing to try?”

“always, you’re all i’ve never wanted.”

“like, exclusively?”

“as we always should’ve been,” he breathed out a smile.

there was a sting in your eyes, it felt like tears were forming in your eyes but it wasn’t enough to form a tear drop. but that’s how happy you were.

it’s what you’ve wanted to hear this whole time.

“so yn, will you be my significant other?”

your face that was so close to his was still in his hand, his other hand held your hand. there was no space between you yet you were comfortable. how could this not be the person you’re meant to be with.

you finally let out a smile and answered, “yes cheol, i’m yours.”

naturally with your face so close to his, he pulled you in for a kiss. but unlike the other kisses, this one was soft and sweet. it was new and it felt like a new beginning.

‘fuck, it was that easy,’ is what you both thought as you two parted.

you two pursed your lips as you looked at the ground, embarrassed at the situation as if you were in elementary school doing something scandalous but cheol knew how to move on. “let’s go in and get a drink?” he tilted his head towards the cafe.

“at this time? what are you gonna get from a cafe?” you furrowed your brows.

“i don’t know? a victory doughnut?” he sarcastically spat.

you could only let out a laugh. he stuck his hand out for you to hold and you held it with no hesitance as he guided you two into the cafe.

“ok now tell me more about that guy you dumped.”

“is that really something you want to talk about right now? also he dumped me.”

“really? i should thank him or something, what’s his name?”

you won the guy wanted most at the cost of wonwoo, you’re the one who should thank him.

“jeon wonwoo,” you answered.

“pro gamer jeon wonwoo?! how did you not leave me for him?” cheol’s eyes widened.

“hey, what the fuck?”

by his side, talking about how to move forward, it may have been complicated but it was worth going through as long as it meant you two would be together.

in your favour, that night, you went back to his place and into his bed.

and in cheol’s favour, you’re in his arms.

Every single ship/pairing/otp/brotp/friendship etc in Seventeen💎

3&10: Joshua & The8 

iwaizumi hajime x f!reader, 3.3k

THEMES: seijoh 4, iwaizumi is an amazing singer (REAL), oikawa being oikawa

SUMMARY: Oikawa dares Iwaizumi to serenade his crush through karaoke. What’s he supposed to do? Get clowned and be called a coward for saying no?

A/N: when i first wrote this i had a justin bieber song in mind for no other reason than i think it would be funny to think about. it’s a silly lil fic but here she is (again)!!!!

Iwaizumi considers himself a reasonable person. Even though everyone on the Seijoh team teases him about his anger issues, most of the time he’s actually pretty calm.

Most of the time. Nobody activates his murder instinct more than Oikawa Tooru.

Sometimes, Oikawa will look at him with those beady little eyes and his stupid smirk and Iwaizumi has to fight the urge to punch him in the face.

Iwaizumi knows he should be the bigger person, he should go to his happy place or whatever and not let a demon ruin his peace of mind. Unfortunately for him, Oikawa happens to be his childhood best friend. (Trust him, if he could, he would turn back time.)

He has to see Oikawa everyday during practice, has to spend lunch with him, has to listen to him opening his big mouth about whatever it is he’s interested in that day. Okay maybe he’s being unfair— Oikawa isn’t all that bad. Just mostly.

It’s just that his best friend seems to have a knack for baiting him into doing things he most certainly does not want to do.

Nobody gets to tell Iwaizumi what to do, especially things that he doesn’t want to do. (Except maybe his mom of course, he’s not a monster). Yet every time Oikawa challenges him, opens his big mouth and almost taunts him about it, he always ends up doing it anyway and it makes Iwaizumi want to jump in the middle of oncoming traffic.

He never seems to learn however, and this time he’s afraid he can’t fix it just by outsmarting him or throwing a volleyball at his head. No, this time, Oikawa’s got him cornered.

For context, this is where Iwaizumi is coming from:

Iwaizumi was minding his business during lunch, tuning out Oikawa as he yapped on about something he couldn’t pretend to care about today, when Makki claps him on the shoulder and asks, “What about you Iwa? You in?”

He looks up from his food to find the entire table staring at him. “What?”

“Karaoke after practice tomorrow? Mattsun found a new one round the corner.”

“So I can listen to Shittykawa’s screeching? No thanks.”

“Hmph!” The setter indignantly huffs, tossing a used tissue at him which he swiftly dodges.

“I’m gonna invite some people from my class.” Makki says.

“And I should care because?”

“You should care because she’s in my class.”

Iwaizumi flushes bright red at the mere mention of you. A fact that doesn’t go unnoticed by Oikawa.

“You still haven’t asked her out on a date?” Oikawa asks, brow raised.

“No, and it’s none of your business Shittykawa.”

“Don’t you want her to be your girlfriend?”

His girlfriend. Even the thought of it is sending a tingling feeling in his spine.

“Dude, you’re so whipped.” Mattsun retorts, snorting at the look on his face.

“I just… I don’t know how to do it.” Iwaizumi mumbles. “I’m not good with feelings and shit.”

“Well, for starters maybe try asking her out.” Oikawa suggests.

“I don’t even know if she likes me.” Iwaizumi sighs, hating that he has to explain this.

“I think she does.” Mattsun pipes in. “She has heart eyes everytime you talk to her, and I’ve never seen a girl be more affectionate than Oikawa’s fangirls.”

“She’s affectionate with everyone, she’s just nice like that.” Iwaizumi reasons. He’s seen you with other people and you’re just as friendly with everyone else— he doesn’t want to get his hopes up. “Plus, if she liked me, wouldn’t she have said something by now? I’ve dropped enough hints.”

Makki slaps the back of his head. “Idiot, you’re supposed to be making the move.”

“Isn’t it worth asking her? Maybe she’s been waiting for you to ask her all this time and you’re here waiting for her to make the move.” Mattsun says.

“Iwa-chan, if I may-”

“You may not.”

Oikawa pouts. “If you ask her, you could be dating by now.”

Iwaizumi huffs. Easy for him to say, girls confess to him everyday that he’s probably desensitized to it all. Isn’t it much easier to be confident about your feelings when you know the person reciprocates them?

“How about you serenade her at karaoke?” Makki suggests, half a sandwich shoved in his mouth.

Oikawa lights up his suggestion and shoots him a Cheshire cat smile. Iwaizumi’s heart drops to his ass.

“You want romance? Sing her a love song as a confession.” Oikawa grins.

“Oh my god, as if I would take any advice from you.” Iwaizumi rolls his eyes.

“Oh my god,” this time Oikawa rolls his eyes, “all I’m hearing are excuses. Are you really that much of a coward? The Iwa-chan I know could easily sing his favourite love song to the girl he’s been crushing on forever and do it coolly.”

Iwaizumi feels a vein throbbing in his head. “You want me to serenade her in front of you guys?”

Oikawa shrugs. “Or maybe I’m wrong and you’re just lame.”

Oikawa’s words feel like a knife against his throat.

Easily sing his favourite love song. The words echo in his head. The girl he’s been crushing on forever. His fist tighten by his side. Do it coolly.

The words light a fire in his gut. Iwaizumi clears his throat, and in his most casual voice says, “I could do it.”

The three of them turn to look at him. Oikawa’s brows raise in surprise. Mattsun stops mid-air from shoving more food in his house. Makki chokes on his drink.

“Are you serious?”

“Would I say it if I wasn’t?” Iwaizumi knows he’s going to regret this. He’s already regretting it, staring at the disbelief in their eyes.

“No way,” Oikawa says, “I can’t believe you’re actually going to do it.”

Iwaizumi does not want to do it.

“I mean,” Iwaizumi takes a gulp of water, “I will totally do it if she comes. She might not even come.”

“Oh, don’t worry about that part. We’ll make sure she comes.” Oikawa grins.

Dumb and dumber share a shit-eating grin. “Yeah, don’t worry about that part Iwa. I’ll call in a favour.”

Fuck, Iwaizumi thinks. There’s no way you won’t attend now, Makki forever brags about how he helped you out in a test that one time so now you owe him.

He sighs. If he’s going to do this, he might as well do it well.

.

.

.

Iwaizumi spends the rest of the day rehearsing the stupid song. Even now, he’s at practice and he’s humming along to the rhythm in his head. His lines, the shit-eating grins that will be plastered on his friends faces, his movements.

Your reaction.

Iwaizumi watches you as you hand over your notes to Makki. Almost like you felt him watching you, you turn around and wave at him as you walk over.

“Hey!” you greet, smiling at him.

Iwaizumi thinks he could throw up right now, just at the sight of you before him. You look as pretty as ever, and here he is, a sweaty mess after spiking god knows how many balls.

“What’s up?” he greets, trying to hide just how out of breath he is.

“Tired?” you question. “You look like you’ve been practicing a lot.”

“Well, they don’t call me the ace for no reason.”

“Damn, didn’t know anyone could compete with Oikawa’s massive ego.”

“Oi, watch it.” he pretends to be offended.

“Sorry, sorry. Just never thought you of all people ever got tired.” you observe.

“I’m allowed to be tired. Babysitting Shittykawa while balancing school and volleyball is a full time job.”

“Well, I hate to break it to you, but exam season is coming up. You might not want to spread yourself too thin.”

“Well, if there’s a vacancy for a babysitting gig- you interested?” Iwaizumi asks, grinning at you as you roll your eyes.

“No thanks, my plate is full enough as it is.” you wrinkle your nose at the suggestion. He thinks it’s the cutest thing he’s ever seen.

Funnily enough, making fun of Oikawa is how the two of you met. Makki had tried to set your friend Sakura with Oikawa in first year, much to your displeasure, and the whole time you had been trying to talk her out of it, much to Iwaizumi’s pleasure.

You tried listing all the reasons why it was a bad idea, and he had no trouble joining you and adding in a few reasons of his own. Together you were the dynamic duo, on a mission to stop girls from inflating Oikawa’s ego anymore than it already was.

After that day, you had exchanged numbers and a few days later found out you were both in the student council. (Not that Iwaizumi was complaining, he was looking for an excuse to talk to you more).

Speaking of the devil, Oikawa bounds out of nowhere.

“My favourite person in the world! Are you going tomorrow?”

“If you’re there, then no.” you respond, rolling your eyes at the setter.

Oikawa huffs. “You’re just like Iwa-chan.”

Makki joins in the conversation, “Karaoke tomorrow night. You’re going because Sakura already agreed.”

“Whatever happened to freedom of choice?” you question, eyebrow raised.

“Do you think this is a democracy? I run this shit.” Makki says, puffing out his chest in a bid to look more suave.

You look at Iwaizumi. “These are your friends? Really?”

“Trust me, I’m not happy about it either.” Iwaizumi replies, sighing.

“C’mon, what’s the worst thing that could happen?” Oikawa says, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “There’s a performance you wouldn't want to miss.”

“Is it you?” you ask him suspiciously.

“I’m flattered you wouldn’t want to miss my singing, but unfortunately not.”

“That’s not what I meant!” you scowl, making Oikawa laugh as he walks away.

“Well I gotta get going. I’ll see you guys tomorrow, I guess.” you say, giving Iwaizumi a quick hug that makes him freeze for a few seconds, before high-fiving Makki and giving Oikawa a pointed look before you disappear through the gym doors.

It’s that small act of affection, that small moment that makes his heart skip a beat, that makes him wonder whether there is something there.

He’s half tempted to run after you and get this whole i like you do you like me situation over and done with so he can save himself the humiliation tomorrow, but his feet remain firmly planted on the ground.

Practice resumes and Iwaizumi once again gets lost in the rhythm playing through his mind.

.

.

.

Turns out, serenading his crush in front of his friends is a bigger deal than he thought.

Iwaizumi didn’t have a lot of nerves practicing last night, he’s the school’s volleyball ace for god sake, he’s used to having eyes on him— But knowing that he has to confess his feelings, something he’d rather not do, well… It's something completely different.

He feels vulnerable. He isn’t the hearts and flowers type of guy, even though he secretly wants to be. He would never admit it, but he secretly envies the easy conversation that Oikawa is able to strike up with just about anyone- he wishes he had those people skills but he just comes out as emotionally and socially constipated.

“You don’t have to go through with this.” Mattsun says, eyeing him as they reach the karaoke bar and walk up the stairs to the room where everyone is waiting for them.

“It’s a little too late now.” Iwaizumi says, forcing a smile. “I can do it.”

“You’ll be okay.” Mattsun replies, clapping him on the back for reassurance. “Plus, if she says no, I have a cousin you might be interested in.”

Iwaizumi huffs, lightly shoving his arm off him as Mattsun laughs.

“I’m just saying, you have options!”

.

.

.

“You know,” Oikawa says, “I didn’t think he’d actually do it.”

Mattsun snorts. “As if. You practically baited him into it.”

Oikawa pouts, shooting him a look. “I was just giving him good relationship advice!”

“Or, you could just say you care about Iwaizumi and want to see him happy. As much as you guys bicker, we all know how much you care about each other.”

Oikawa would deny it, but it’s no use. Not when he’s right. “Fine, I’ll admit it. It would be nice to see Iwa-chan be happy; plus it’s getting unbearable seeing the yearning in his eyes.”

Before Mattsun can respond, they hear the opening melody of a song they’ve become too familiar with for the past day and a half. Iwaizumi looks like he’s about to pass out, but to his credit remains standing.

Oikawa glances over at you, and he smiles softly at how smitten you look while looking at his best friend.

Iwaizumi clears his throat, the sound booming throughout the whole room.

“Iwa! I didn’t know you were the type to sing at karaoke.” You exclaim, giggling as you watch him fumble with the mic.

“I never really thought I’d be doing this. But someone,” Iwaizumi pointedly looks at Oikawa, “thought I would be too much of a coward to do this. And I just think it’s important to stand up to the bullies in your life.”

Oikawa’s jaw drops at his words. Mattsun and Makki are laughing so hard beside him, they starting to sound like pigs.

Oikawa is about to yell about how he did it for you, or about how his best friend is such a liar, but Iwaizumi beats him to it.

“I’m kidding.” Iwaizumi continues. “As satisfying as it is to prove people wrong, the reason I’m doing this is because there’s someone I like and I’m tired of running away from my feelings. So I’m going to sing this song to let her know.”

Your eyes go wide. Your heart is pounding so loud it might jump out of your chest.

“Who is it?” Sakura asks, giddy in her seat. She already knows the answer; there’s only two girls in the room, and she’s not on the receiving end of Iwaizumi’s googly, heart-shaped eyes. Which leaves…

Iwaizumi calls your name, bright red, “This is for you.”

“Oh my god.” Oikawa hears you mumble. But there’s nothing else you can do- you just have to listen.

Although his friends were just teasing him to try and get him to confess to you, they didn’t realise that Iwaizumi could actually sing. He was so good that they were left speechless.

Iwaizumi sings with almost enough charisma that Oikawa could fall in love with him. He sings each verse, each line, like it’s his personal truth, as if he had really written this song just for you.

It’s more romantic than any cheesy rom-com they’ve ever watched— Makki almost tears up, and Mattsun suddenly whips out his phone to record Iwaizumi singing (this is prime blackmail stuff after all).

The lyrics get a bit too specific at some parts, and in those moments Iwaizumi actually manages to look directly at you. You don’t know whether to pass out or scream.

Mattsun wonders if he should be recording you instead, how you seem to be glowing at the sight of him singing for you. But he reckons that this menory will be stored away in Iwaizumi’s head for a long time anyway.

“He’s going all out.” Oikawa whispers to Makki.

“He’s doing it to spite you.” Makki replies.

“Trust him to still get back at me while simultaneously getting the love of his life.”

Before they know it, the song ends and the cheers and hollers from the four of them fill up the room. Iwaizumi smiles and lets out a sigh of relief, the weight of the world finally falling off his shoulders.

Oikawa wants to ask what you think, but you’re already grabbing iwaizumi’s hand and dragging him out of the room.

They’re gone.

.

.

.

Iwaizumi’s sure he blacked out.

He’s sure he did well considering everyone’s cheers bursting through the room as soon as he finished, but if anyone were to ask him what happened just mere minutes ago? He wouldn’t have a clue where to begin.

He felt like a man possessed with cupid or whatever. Everything’s a blur after he made eye contact with you.

You.

You’re standing right in front of him now, in front of the karaoke bar. Your eyes are blown wide, unmistakeable. The street outside is empty.

You bite your lip, and Iwaizumi thinks this is it. The moment of truth.

“Did you like the song?” Iwaizumi asks, trying to sound casual.

“You were… amazing.” you breathe. “I didn’t know you could sing that well.”

Iwaizumi almost reaches heaven at the praise falling from your lips. He could die a happy man right now, but still, it’s not what he’s looking for. “Thanks, it was for you.”

You make a strangled noise, a mix between a scream and a loud gasp. “Iwa--”

“Listen,” Iwaizumi looks at you bravely, holding your hands in his as he stares at you earnestly, “I really like you. Always have. Would you like to go out with me?”

You stand there for what seems like hours, face growing redder by the second. “I, uh, well,I—”

Iwaizumi can’t tell if you’re trying to find a gentle way to let him down or if you’re just at a loss.

“Is that a yes or no?” Iwaizumi asks. “It’s ok if you say no, I don’t mind. Well, I would mind but it’s fine if you do—“

“No!” you blurt out, before slapping your hands across your mouth.

“Oh.” Iwaizumi says, brows raised in surprise before he almost starts to look crestfallen.

“No, that’s not what I meant!” You wave your hands in front of his face, trying to get your point across. You desperately have to fix this mess you’ve created.

“No, no, I didn’t mean no! I meant that, um-“ you stutter out.

“Be honest with me.” Iwaizumi says, trying to calm you down in your flustered state. “It’s just me.”

You seem to swallow the lump in your throat because you look up at him then, eyes shining with an unspoken feeling and Iwaizumi’s breath catches in his throat.

“I like you too, Iwa. I like you a lot.” you finally say, and his heart soars in his chest. “I was just processing what happened back there.”

Iwaizumi grins, “What, no one’s ever serenaded you before like that?”

“Of course not!” you laugh. “But then again, no one’s like you.”

“And what am I?”

“Cool. Seijoh’s volleyball ace. A great singer. Unbelievably handsome.”

Iwaizumi starts giggling at your words, unsure if this is real life. His crush actually likes him back? He feels like a child finally getting their favourite toy.

He knows he’s far from composed right now, but he could care less. Tonight, his crush is out here saying she likes him back and he’ll be damned if he doesn’t look like a lovesick fool right now. He can look cool some other time.

“Can I kiss you right now?” he asks.

You shyly nod, and Iwaizumi gently cups your cheek in his hands, leaning in.

Before he can kiss you though, he hears the last person on earth he wants to see calling his name.

“Iwa-chan!” comes Oikawa’s familiar voice.

Iwaizumi could fucking kill him right now.

“Oof, bad timing dude.” Makki says, and the setter actually looks sheepish for once.

“Sorry! We’ll wait for you guys inside.” Mattsun ushers them back in, sending Iwaizumi a wink.

Iwaizumi doesn’t even get to yell out insults, or wave goodbye to them because suddenly, your mouth is on his and his brain can’t process much more than that at the moment.

You’re kissing him. He wonders why he didn’t do this sooner.

Oikawa Tooru lives to see another day.

No one deactivates Iwaizumi’s murder instinct more than you.

learning languages | lee donghyuck

pairing: lee donghyuck | nct haechan x reader word count: 18.5k genre: university au, getting together, smut, fluff, angst summary: in which you're an exchange student and donghyuck teaches you the essential korean phrases you need, and eventually how to fall in love with him tag list: @smwhrinthehaze @byungbyungbaek @sundamariis @thiccfullsun @yesohhsehun @haechoshi @najmnluvr @liz-zo @heyitsconysstuff @magicastle @novawon @gaeulswrld author’s note: I’m so sorry it took so long, but here it is! I imagine conversations with everyone in Korean, except for Mark! 😊 I imagine the conversations with Mark in English. I also have 0 knowledge with the Korean language except from the common phrases every Kpop fan knows lol. So please bare with me and feel free to correct me! ^^ Please also consider tipping me if you want to! NCT Dream is coming to my country this April and I’d love to see them if I could :) TIP ME HERE.

날씨가 추워 (nalssiga chuwo) – the weather is cold

The rain is pouring when you arrive in Incheon. 

It’s not as harsh as it is where you come from, but the February breeze still makes you shiver and curse under your breath, and while you’re wallowing and pouting over the fact that your first day in South Korea is not going as well as you wanted, Mark is chirpy—a little too happy for your liking. 

Of course, Mark is happy. Your bitterness over the weather is not going to spoil his energy, the exact same one—maybe stronger—he has had over the past couple of weeks, counting down the days he’d be back in Seoul, finally. Mark has told you that it had been over a decade since he last visited South Korea, and the Student Exchange Program from your university had been the best opportunity for him to come back after so long, too long. The stupid smile on his face somehow makes you feel better, especially when he jumps from his seat when he sees his childhood friend walk towards your area. 

Renjun is handsome like the picture that Mark sent you a week before your flight to South Korea, but it feels a little unfair that he’s even more attractive in person. His voice sounds like honey and the corner of his eyes crinkle when he smiles as he approaches you and Mark. 

They jump into a tight, dramatic hug that makes a few other people in the waiting area look, but the boys don’t care. Mark lifts Renjun up from the ground, it’s almost embarrassing. The sight makes you feel warm. You wonder how Mark feels. 

It must be amazing, you think, to finally meet someone you’ve been longing to see. Mark had always expressed his yearning for the place—the people, the friends he always had to leave behind when visiting during summer—and it makes you wonder how it feels like to have friends and family away from you. 

Evidently, this is your first time to be away from home. You live (or used to at this point) in a dormitory, a two-minute walk to the campus, a good hour away from home, but you always went home whenever you craved for your mother’s dishes. You’ve never considered living away from home. Sure, you had plans to move out eventually, but not in a different time zone, not in an entirely different culture. Mark, on the other hand, is frequently moving around, dragging his suitcase from place to place, leaving people behind and promising he’d come back when he can.

Born in Canada, Mark had been to more places that you could count, but he has told you many times that nowhere else feels like home, like Seoul. He’s told you many stories of the time his family lived there for a few years before going back to Canada, of his annual visits in the summer, and of his devastation when life had caught up with him that he had to stop visiting when he turned eleven. 

You remember his voice, its tone and emotion, when he called you a couple of months ago, informing you of the exchange program that the university’s administration had posted on the students’ corner, and how fucking amazing it would be if you could sign up with him. 

“It would be a good addition to your credentials,” he had told you. “It’s not going to be for a long time, a semester at least. And we have the option to stay the whole academic year if we wanted to! Plus, I already know a lot of people there. We’ll be fine!”

“I don’t know, Mark,” you had answered, feigning hesitation, even when you knew deep down that Mark had already convinced you by the tone of his voice when he revealed the news. “I’ve never been that far away from home. Remember when we went camping in ninth grade? I cried. For three whole days. I’m not going to survive a semester. Besides, I know not a single Korean word.”

“Come on, Y/N,” he had begged. “Think about it. You’ll be with me the entire time. If we pass the screening, the program will sign us up for free Hangul lessons—though, let’s be honest, I don’t really need it.”

“Why do you have to bring me anyway?” you had asked out of curiosity.

“Because I know you’ll love it there,” he had answered. “Your obsession with studying culture and languages will be satisfied because there is no better way to learn a culture than experiencing the whole thing with your best friend!”

You remember humming in response, as if you’re thinking deeply about it. Mark sighed on the other line, his words making you laugh and finally agree. 

“The chances of Mom letting me go is bigger when I tell her you’re coming with me,” he had admitted. Mark, upon hearing your agreement to his proposal, began listing out the places he would take you. The phone call lasted for three more hours and it had seemed like Mark already had an entire plan in his head before he even asked you if you would go with him. 

Passing the program had been easy and so was acquiring your visa. What was truly the pain in the ass, you admit, is learning the damn language. You salute Mark for being able to speak Korean so fluently, but he’s shit at teaching you and you had to rely on the free lessons you had taken every weekend and your favorite language mentor, Lee Minho in Legend of the Blue Sea. Your Korean is awful. Your tongue is a little too short, too stiff, for said language, and the situation almost makes you back out of the entire program and ditch Mark. 

But here you are, still shit at Korean, but standing among hustling people and waiting for your best friend to wrap up the moment he’s sharing with his long-time friend. Renjun finally catches your eyes as you awkwardly watch them on the side, your backpack becoming heavier each second you’re standing on the airport tiles. He pulls away from Mark, smiling, beaming towards you and offers a handshake. 

“Hwang Renjun,” he introduces. You remember their last names go first here. “Nice to meet you.”

It almost startles you when he speaks English. Mark forgot to mention his friend is fluent, you think. 

You tell him your name, voice smaller than it usually is, and express your relief that he speaks English. 

“I’m originally not from here either,” he explains. “I’m Chinese. My family had to move here before I could even properly pronounce words for my Dad’s work. Went to an international school, where I met Mark back in second grade.”

So, he’s cute and multilingual. How unfair.

“And I’d love to chat longer,” he says, switching to Korean now, before you can even respond. “But Hyuck is waiting in his car. We could talk on our way to your dormitory. For now, let’s go. Hyuck hates waiting.”

“Hyuck drove? What happened to your car?” Mark asks, helping you with your luggage and pushing the cart himself. Renjun insists to carry your backpack, and he had already gently pulled it from your shoulder before you could refuse.

Mark and Renjun talk about Hyuck, both switching to speaking Korean now, on their way out of the arrival area and it doesn’t take long for them to spot their friend’s car outside. The rain had stopped pouring by the time you’re settling yourselves inside their friend’s car. The second you settle yourself on the leather seat, you sigh in relief. Traveling is a lot more exhausting than you had initially thought. 

Renjun sits on the passenger seat, right beside Hyuck, you assume, and Mark settles himself beside you.

“Mark Lee,” Hyuck greets, looking at Mark through the rearview mirror. “A pleasure to finally meet you.”

It takes you a second to understand what he said. It’s only then that you realize you really are in Korea. 

“Lee Donghyuck,” Mark responds in the same tone. “You’re real. I’m happy to see you in person and not just through Facetime. I want to hug you.”

“Am I better looking in person?” Hyuck teases. “Hug me when we’re at your dormitory. I’ll even kiss you on the lips if you want to.”

“Disgusting,” Mark grimaces. “By the way—” He turns his attention to you the same time Hyuck begins driving. “This is Y/N.”

Hyuck only smiles, nodding a little to you through the rearview mirror, brushing his brown hair using his fingers to fix it up. Renjun begins to ask how the flight was and Mark replies. All three boys strike up a conversation in Korean and it was all too much, too fast, for you to catch up and understand anything, so you stay quiet on your seat, leaning against the window, and begin to wonder how things will go for the entire spring semester you’ll be spending in this foreign city. 

Mark never told you that the drive from Incheon to Seoul is long, so far that you didn’t even realize you had fallen asleep.  When you arrive at the dormitory, it’s past six in the afternoon and Mark’s friends ask kindly if you want to go out for dinner. Politely and quite incoherently, you tell them that you’d like to stay. Mark insists on staying home with you and unpacking your belongings, but you urge him to go, spend some time with his friends and walk around. Mark hesitates, but agrees nonetheless, promising he will come back in an hour.

The place the program had picked for you and Mark is not that bad. It’s nothing like home, but it’s not bad. It makes you wonder how Mark does it. You remember not being able to sleep on the first few nights on your dormitory’s bed when you were a freshman. Mark had never told you if he’s had trouble adapting to places he’s been. Maybe you could ask him in the morning. 

The exhaustion hits you again upon entering one of the rooms. Room assignment is yet to be decided, but Mark wouldn’t mind if you sleep on one of the beds while he’s out. And so, you sleep. 

You don’t remember what you dream of. And Mark wakes you at seven in the morning, reminding you that you had to unpack and go grocery shopping. Momentarily, you forget where you are. It hits you the same way it does in his friend’s car. You’re in a different country. A different language. A different time zone. 

It doesn’t feel like home at all even though it’s cold. But you guess you’ll have to make it work. At least until the semester ends. 

약속해요 (yagsoghaeyo) – I promise

When Mark told you he knew a lot of people in Seoul, you should’ve known he was bluffing because he literally knew only seven people.

Mark Lee’s friends are warm and loud and somehow you feel out of place when they all decide to hangout where you and Mark are. It’s the first week of the semester, and you have completed all the orientation and tour you need; Mark, on the other hand, is still catching up with everyone.

By everyone, he meant Kevin Moon, a senior who is also Mark’s cousin’s long-distance boyfriend who happens to be studying in SNU too, Hwang Renjun from Natural Sciences, Lee Donghyuck from Music, Lee Jeno and Na Jaemin from Engineering and Architecture, Zhong Chenle from Humanities, and Park Jisung from Business Administration. Which is why every day, for the past five days, you’re at a place called Arcade, with Mark and two or three people from their group.

It turns out Huang Renjun and Na Jaemin were Mark’s friends from childhood, the others are friends by extension.

Huang Renjun, you understand why Mark is closest to him among all. He’s soft all over but sharp in the mouth. Renjun, you learn, likes to talk about life and likes to give people advice when they need it. He’s reserved with other people but is the complete opposite when he’s with his friends.

Lee Jeno is shy. He normally joins the group after his internship at a construction corporation in the outskirts of Seoul, which is why you haven’t really seen him much—only twice. You haven’t had that many conversations with him yet, but he’s kind enough to pass you the ketchup when he sees you staring at it from the end of the table.

Zhong Chenle and Park Jisung are best friends. There’s not a day that you have not seen either without the other, kind of reminds you of how you and Mark are. They join whenever one is available—two peas in a pod.

Na Jaemin is the closest with Lee Donghyuck. You see them talking in their bubble more frequently than the others. Jaemin is mysterious and a little cold—the complete opposite of Lee Donghyuck.

Lee Donghyuck, well, you’ve got a lot to say about him.

It isn’t necessarily an uncomfortable feeling, because Mark’s friends are kind enough to slow down when they talk to you and are quite protective of you, especially when a random stranger bravely comes up to you to introduce themselves. Lee Donghyuck, in particular, who’s as warm as the sun touching your skin at nine in the morning and whose voice is careful and assuring, ensures that you’re never out of place—even when you feel it all the time. From the day the semester started, there hasn’t been a day when Donghyuck isn’t hanging out with you and Mark at Arcade.

Mark normally picks you up from class because thank God your schedules are aligned to each other despite having different majors. The College of Social Sciences is quiet, unlike the building right beside you, College of Music, and Mark usually takes five minutes to find you, because you can’t trust yourself to walk around on your own—at least not yet. But today, Mark asked if you could meet Kevin first because his girlfriend had something for him from Canada.

“Hyungseo!” You hear someone call, making you look up from your phone to see Kevin walking towards you. He stops and turns around, a girl you’ve seen around the college of social sciences once or twice running towards him.

“Don’t forget to bring the laminated cards we need for Friday!” the lady shouts. Kevin gives her a thumbs up and turns back to you.

“Y/N, right?” he asks in English. You nod. He offers a hand. “I’m sorry we haven’t met personally yet. But I’m Kevin.”

“She called you Hyungseo, though,” you trail off, accepting the handshake anyway. “I’ve seen your pictures from Giselle’s phone, so I knew it was you.”

He laughs. “Hyungseo’s my Korean name. You should’ve packed her with you.”

You reach for your bag and hand him the box that’s been sitting in your backpack all day. “Here,” you say. “No plans on visiting sometime soon?”

Kevin sighs. “I wish I could,” he answers. “It’s not as easy as we thought.”

“You guys sound okay though,” you comment. “I mean, Giselle always sounds so happy when she talks about you back home.”

This makes Kevin smile. “Oh, she does?”

“Why would she think of getting you a gift all the way from home if she’s not?” you ask, biting your tongue as soon as the words come out. “Sorry, I shouldn’t ask.”

“Let’s talk about this over some soju when you find a dude you want to spend the rest of your life with here,” he jokes. “Thanks for bringing this. You and Mark have been so busy; he’s been declining all my invitations to hangout.”

You sigh, “Yeah. It’s only the first week and there are lot of things we had to do. I’ll ask him if we can hang out on the weekend?”

Kevin agrees and hands his phone to you, asking to put your number so he could call you. You do and tell him you’re grateful you could talk to someone in English aside from Mark and bid him goodbye when he leaves. You shoot Mark a text, telling him you’ll be waiting for him and that Kevin’s dropped by to get his gift from Giselle.

Hence, you wait outside, busying yourself with your phone, trying to avoid any interaction as much as you can, and you don’t notice Donghyuck standing beside you until he taps your shoulder and gives you a warm smile.

“Mark is running late,” he says slowly. “Let’s go to Arcade together.”

You smile at Donghyuck’s attempt to pronounce Arcade how you would and nod at him. He leads the way out of the building, his backpack on one shoulder, and asks you how your classes are so far.

“It’s okay,” you answer because it’s all you can think of. “Thank God my professor in Psychology speaks English.”

Donghyuck hums. “It must be difficult for you.”

“It is,” you confess.

Among everyone you have met so far, Donghyuck gives you the feeling of comfort; you’re not exactly the most outgoing person nor the least—you were in between. You were okay with that. And you were okay that Donghyuck is okay with that, too. He doesn’t push you to speak more (probably because he knows you most likely do not know how to say whatever you had in mind), but can be very persuasive when there’s a hint that you’re relaxed.

Lee Donghyuck is bold and charming and amiable like nobody you’ve ever known. Normally, or at least with how you’re used to, people are a little more reserved around people they just met. And culturally speaking, you didn’t expect Donghyuck to be so forward and already so comfortable hanging out with you, what more with having conversations like this.

“Don’t worry, though,” he assures. “You’ll be fine. You’re here for about six months, anyway. I promise it’ll be the best six months of your college years.”

He’s also bright like this—optimistic and kind and assuring. You’re glad Mark is friends with people like him, with Donghyuck.

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” you try to say, a phrase Mark taught you the other night. “Did I say that right?”

Donghyuck giggles, stopping and reaching up to ruffle your hair. “You’re absolutely adorable.”

“That, I am,” you joke back, more comfortable around him now.

“I promise,” he says. “It’ll be so good; you wouldn’t want to go back to Canada.”

한국말 잘 못해요 (hangugmal jal moshaeyo) – I don’t speak Korean well | 죽을래 (jug-eullae) – Do you want to die?

Donghyuck turns out to be a better teacher than Lee Minho and Mark Lee combined. He gifts you a small, pocket-friendly notebook, asking you to keep it for the rest of your stay, notably commenting that the material’s size will allow you to bring it everywhere you go. Hence, the tiny, brown faux leather notebook is safely tucked between your necessities inside your bag.

The first sentence he teaches you turns out to be the most essential: I don’t speak Korean well.

Donghyuck takes you to a café called 7 Days, an entirely different vibe compared to Arcade. You don’t question Donghyuck when he puts an arm on your shoulder as you walk together inside the café, but he asks you right away when he must have felt you stiffen from the touch: “Is this okay?”

“Yes,” you answer quietly.

Donghyuck smiles warmly at you. “Here, have a look around and I’ll get you something to drink before we decide what we want to eat. I have the perfect drink for you!”

He goes before you could say anything. You look and realize that the café is not so bad. Its aesthetic is the complete opposite of what Arcade’s going for—cozy, serene, almost like a good place to study or sleep in, whatever you need to survive the day—and the Biscoff latte is bomb, you don’t think you can drink latte differently now.

Conversations with Donghyuck could, well, unfortunately, go only where your limit is. He’s fun and likes to tell a lot of stories, but it’s always interrupted with you asking what a word means and him pulling up his phone and have his translation app say it for you. He makes jokes that you regrettably do not understand, but Donghyuck doesn’t take it to the heart and only says: “By the end of the term, you’ll be saying these jokes to Mark Lee.”

Donghyuck excuses himself to go to the toilet about an hour later and allows you a few minutes by yourself, which you happily spend taking pictures of the interior of the café. You sigh when you realize you didn’t take a picture of the Biscoff latte when it was full and pretty. Someone taps you on the shoulder, and it could only be Donghyuck, so you turn with a smile.

“I forgot to take a picture of the drink—Oh.” It’s not Donghyuck. “I’m sorry, how can I help you?” you ask politely.

The man towers over you and he smiles warmly. Your cheeks flush when he does, because you probably mispronounce each syllable from that sentence. “I’m Sanha.”

You bow courteously, still have 0 idea why the man is talking to you.

“I don’t see you around often,” he says. “And I’m here, like, almost all the time unless I have a class. My dad owns the place. How do you like it so far?”

“It’s… okay,” you say. Sanha chuckles, and your face is hot you probably look like a red potato now. “I mean, not just okay, I just can’t find the words to—”

He takes Donghyuck’s seat. “I can teach you,” he offers. “We can meet up here, and—”

Donghyuck calls your name, voice firm and monotonous like never before. “It’s getting late. Mark texted me to take you home early because Chenle’s making dinner at your place.”

You look at Sanha apologetically, still unable to reply properly so you only say, “I’m sorry.”

Donghyuck doesn’t give you the chance to say anything more because he’s already helping you out of your seat, turning you around so you could start walking towards the door, pushing you until you’re out of the café.

You hear him sigh as you walk away from the café, arm around your shoulder like how you entered the place.

“Y/N, my sweet pea,” he softly says. “Please don’t to talk strangers.”

You shrug, “It’s not like I could just ignore him when he was already taking you space.”

He scoffs. “When strangers start talking to you and being all brave and upfront, you tell them: I don’t speak Korean well. Then just start hitting them with English words and exaggerate your accent. That’s how Mark Lee tries to avoid conversations with girls sometimes because he’s a loser and women make him nervous.”

“I don’t speak Korean well,” you repeat, slowly pronouncing each syllable.

“Where’s the notebook I asked you to bring everywhere?” Donghyuck asks. “Write that down.”

You nod and tell him you’d do it later. Donghyuck leads the way towards the stop just in time for the bus that’s about to leave. You and him hop in, taking the seats in the back, giggling when Donghyuck almost topples over as soon as the bus starts to move. He lets you sit by the window and starts telling you about how his sister always fights him to get the window seat and he’s never won so he naturally just gives people the said seat.

You’re nearby the next stop when you ask him: “Donghyuck, what if I tell people I don’t speak Korean well and they wouldn’t stop bothering me?”

Donghyuck looks nice in his brown, fluffy jacket, face bare, his eyeglasses sitting on the bridge of his nose. He looks even nice whenever he smiles like this.

“Y/N, do you know how cute you are?” An answer you don’t expect. “You’re so cute when you ask questions like this. I want to put you in my pocket.”

“Donghyuck,” you sigh, expecting a serious answer.

He reaches up to pat your head. “You won’t have to worry because we won’t let you be on your own unless you ask us to stay away. Especially me. Not me. I’ll make sure to take care of you and Mark while the two of you are here.”

You nod, still not satisfied with the answer. The Sanha situation awhile ago makes you realize how helpless you’d be if you weren’t with Mark or any of his friends. Donghyuck probably notices your dissatisfaction when he feels like you’re sulking, which you definitely are, because he chuckles and pokes your cheek to get your attention again.

“If it makes you feel better,” he says. “You could always ask them if they want to die.”

“That’s mean!” you gasp.

“Or tell them to fuck off,” he shrugs.

“Donghyuck!”

“What?” he asks. “It’s not like I don’t hear you and Mark say ‘fuck you’ to each other every day.”

You laugh at that. “Saying it in Korean hits different.”

“Right!” Donghyuck agrees. “I’ve been telling people saying fuck you in Korean has more impact than in any other language. I can say the word fuck every day.”

“You kiss your mother with that mouth?” you joke.

Donghyuck coos. “Oh, I’m so proud of you. You’re cracking jokes now.”

The bus halts at your stop, and Donghyuck helps you up by taking your hand the way he’s helping you learn the language. It’s only when you’ve reached the street to the apartment you share with Mark that you realized you’ve been holding hands all the way from the bus stop.

저 알러지 있어요 (jeo alleoji iss-eoyo) – I’m allergic

“Do you not understand what you just did, Mark Lee?” you ask in disbelief.

It’s only a month into your stay in Seoul, and Mark does the dumbest thing ever. Mark Lee comes home with a pet cat.

There were three rules for the spring semester, three very specific and very easy rules: one, to always text each other’s location as soon as you step foot outside of the apartment (which you and him are constantly compliant about; you love Mark Lee for that); two, to never skip a class unless you’re sick (you’re only here until July; Mark decided he’s not wasting a single day in Seoul, even if it means going to classes on time and by schedule without fail); and lastly, don’t keep things you won’t be able to take back home.

Mark had said that these rules are specifically for you because rule number one ensures your safety, rule number ensures you get the real Korean education experience, and rule number three apparently ensures you’re not leaving anything important at the airport when you leave—which now you think is bullshit. The rules are more for him than you, but you love Mark Lee, and it’s not like the cat isn’t cute.

“But, Y/N,” Mark pouts. “She kept on staring at me with these eyes when Renjun was busy comparing brands of dog treats. It was like her eyes were calling me, asking me to take her home!”

The calico cat is a baby; Mark said it’s not even five months old yet. It’s the last from seven siblings, the last one to be adopted (and you think Mark is only telling you this to convince you this is a good idea. She jumps out from Mark’s lap and goes to you, staring at you first before settling herself on your lap.

“She loves you already!” Mark comments.

You sigh. “Mark. You know we can’t take her home, right? We’re leaving in like, five months.”

“Which means I have five months to convince our friends to adopt her while I’m in Canada!” he answers enthusiastically, his eyes almost sparkling with the way he’s talking. “I couldn’t just leave her there. My heart wouldn’t allow me to leave without her!”

“Fine,” you give up. “Don’t cry on me on the plane back home when we leave her.”

Mark chuckles. “I think I should be more worried about you crying on the plane back home.”

Someone knocks on your door before you can ask what he means by that. It’s Mark who stands and welcome the person, and of course, it’s Donghyuck.

It’s Saturday. Saturday means Donghyuck comes and hangs out at your place because he no longer has to work in the university library on the weekends. He’d quit, saying his big mouth isn’t fit for the library, and had asked the school administration to reassign him to another facility. Part of his scholarship is to work at least 16 hours a week in one of the university’s facilities. He’s paid, of course, but Donghyuck says he’s not paid enough to keep his mouth shut for 16 hours a week. The admin asked for a week to figure out where he’d be assigned next, so he had this entire weekend all to himself, which, to how it looks like now, he’d decided to spend with you and Mark.

Mark lets Donghyuck in. The latter’s smile falters when he sees you; he only gives you a curt nod. And it’s not like you’re expecting Donghyuck to cuddle you on the couch, alright? It’s just that, you’ve known each other for a month now, and have hung out together a handful of times—just the two of you—and he called you yesterday telling you he’d come hangout with you and Mark for the weekend, even said something about teaching you to play Apex if you have the energy for it. And it’s not like he’s obligated to come sit beside you as soon as he enters your apartment, but you’re confused when he sits on the single couch far away from you, stance uncomfortable and his face looking like he’d rather be elsewhere.

Mark’s voice fades away when he asks Donghyuck what their plans are, to which Donghyuck answers: “I’m actually just here to say hi. I’m leaving in a bit.”

“No way,” Mark protests.

“Or we could go out?” Donghyuck offers.

“Uh-uh,” Mark refuses. “Y/N has been excited all morning to see you. You’re not going to disappoint her today.”

“I didn’t say anything—” You try to say, but couldn’t translate what you want to say quick enough. “Donghyuck obviously doesn’t want to be here.”

Over the course of a month living in Seoul, you and Donghyuck had grown closer more than anyone. It would be ridiculous to deny Donghyuck’s seemingly unceasing affection towards you, and in the same manner, it would be a lie if you’d say you’re not enjoying all the attention he’s been giving you. Above the flirty and friendly advances he makes (but never crossing the line), Donghyuck has grown to be a good friend. During the first couple of weeks, you would refer to him as Mark’s friend; it’s safe you say you’re friends with him now.

Donghyuck’s decided to pick you up from the college of Social Sciences, convincing Mark that his building is literally next to yours and that a ten-minute walk to Arcade with you is not going to hurt him—Mark’s been walking with you for many years anyway, he would mumble under his breath, close enough for you to hear but distant enough for you to understand what he truly means. Hence, with the growing friendship you have with him, you wonder what you had done this time.

“It’s not like that,” Donghyuck answers the question you had in mind, both hands raised in defense. You raise an eyebrow. “That.”

Donghyuck points at your lap, Mark’s unnamed cat sleeping soundly now. Oh.

“I’m allergic,” he explains. “I can’t be around one within like a five-meter radius otherwise, I would, like, you know, die.”

“You’re exaggerating,” Mark comments. “Are you really?”

“Yeah,” Donghyuck confirms. “The allergens are getting to me. My throat is starting to close up. I have to leave now.”

This startles you and Mark, the latter quickly taking the calico cat from your lap and quickly taking it to his room. You reckon the cat’s allergens are all over you so you sit as far away as you can from Donghyuck.

“It’s fine,” he assures, but he already looks like he’s choking. “It’s not that serious. They usually just give me allergic rashes and kind of triggers my asthma. So, we’re good.”

“But you have a dog!” you remark. “You never told me you’re allergic to cats!”

He chuckles, “Well, you learn something every day.”

“There are some anti-histamine tablets from the cupboard,” you point out, still seated where you are. “I probably have allergens on my hands; please go get yourself one.”

Donghyuck does what he’s told, taking one and opening the fridge to get himself a bottle of water. You tell him you’re changing your clothes and ask him to wait up, offering to go out and have a meal with him instead.

Mark knocks on your door a couple of minutes later, finding you dressed up, a knowing smile playing on his lips. “Donghyuck said he’d wait outside. You look nice.”

“I know I look nice,” you say as you go back to your vanity to throw whatever you’d need for the day in your small dumpling bag, including a box of Benadryl. “You’re not coming with us because you have cat all over you.”

Mark chuckles, leaning against the doorframe. “Donghyuck literally told me the same thing. He’s growing on you,”

You only hum in response, checking your bag for the last time before walking towards the door where Mark Lee is still leaning on, the same smirk playing on his lips still plastered.

“What?” you ask.

Mark doesn’t say anything, but he raises and shows you his right hand, sticking three fingers up.

먹었습니다 (meog-eossseubnida) - The meal was good.

Seoul National University’s library is as quiet as it can be; it’s almost scary how the only sounds you’d only hear are the faint sounds of pages being flipped and pens gliding on notepads, and the eerie echoes of the tension coming from students who are either cramming on an assignment or jumping from one subject to another in hopes of getting everything they read retained in their head.

Donghyuck used to tell you this is the exact reason why he didn’t like working at the library. It’s too quiet but too loud at the same time. You chuckle at the memory of him telling you anecdotes of his short-lived employment in the library and wonder how different it is being the soccer team’s laundry guy. He’s probably pouting all the way from the beginning of his shift until the end.

“Here,” Jung Sungchan disrupts your thoughts, keeping his voice as quiet as possible. “I found these, maybe it could help bridge the gap we’re struggling on.”

You and Sungchan are paired up for a two-week long assignment for one of your major subjects. The objective was to present a summarized and substantial report on the welfare state, and you think Sungchan must have tripped on all the bad luck in his life to have been paired up with someone who couldn’t speak Korean that well, because, well, the books they had are mostly in Korean. If speaking and understanding Korean is a struggle for you, reading the damn language is hell.

“This is a good thing,” Sungchan assures. “There are resources online that are mostly in English. We can combine everything we find and construct the report from there!”

You nod and hand over the book you’re reading before he arrived, explaining that you found a chapter that could be very helpful. The boy fires up his laptop and starts accessing the website your professor had recommended you to use.

Sat side by side, you and Sungchan study in silence, except for when he asks you to read an article for him and explain what it means. The session lasts for hours, thank God you and him didn’t have classes for the rest of the day, and within those hours of studying with Sungchan, you can’t help but notice the looks you were getting anytime someone passes by the two of you.

It’s no secret that Jung Sungchan is probably one of the most attractive men in the university. He’s tall and has skin that’s as clear as a day in summer, smile that could swoon a lot of people off their feet, broad shoulders that’s probably carrying the entire hockey team for this year’s season—and yes, it doesn’t help the fact that Jung Sungchan is the most popular jock at the moment, apparently for hard carrying the team to win last year’s trophy, ending Seoul National University’s 10-year drought and awakening the school’s love for sports back. And you think it’s quite unfair that people like him exist. Because you would expect that he’s an asshole who doesn’t care about his grades because he’s essentially SNU’s hero at the moment, but he’s not. Jung Sungchan, you learn, takes his degree in Social Sciences very seriously.

And it’s evident with the way his eyebrows are furrowed as he reads the tenth book he found from the shelves.

“I think this part makes more sense now,” he points out, leaning closer so he could show you the article he’s reading. “In residual regimes, welfare-seeking units are primarily family and market. On the other hand, in the institutional welfare regime, the function of providing welfare belongs directly to the state.”

“But countries with different social conditions and lifestyles should have differed in terms of welfare states,” you argue. “We have to consider that the development of industrialization and production growth could be very different from one country to another.”

Sungchan hums. “Good point. Perhaps we can find more of that from Wilensky and Lebaux’s work. Do you have the book over there?”

You nod and hand him the book. Just as Sungchan flips the book open, Mark occupies the seat across you.

“We’ve been calling you,” Mark whispers to you, then turning to look at Sungchan. “Hey, man. Mark. Y/N’s best friend.”

Sungchan gives him a polite nod before going back to the book. You raise an eyebrow at Mark and slip your phone from the pocket of your backpack and find all the missed calls from him, Renjun, and Donghyuck.

“My phone’s been on silent for like, I don’t know, four hours,” you tell him, slipping your phone back to your back. “And I texted you I’d be at the library.”

“Yeah, like four hours ago,” he answers. “I didn’t think you’d really stay here for four hours. Anyway—” Mark pulls out a lunch bag and slides it across the table. “Donghyuck made this for you. He figured you’d be hungry.”

It’s only then that it hit you. The last meal you had was that bagel you had for breakfast on the way to school, which you had seven or eight hours ago.

“My sweet Donghyuckie,” you coo, thankful for his thoughtfulness. “Thanks, Mark. Sungchan and I will share because we’ll be here until we finish at least the structure of the report.”

“It’s getting late though,” Mark points out.

Sungchan clears his throat. “I can drive you home.”

“Great!” Mark exclaims, which earns him multiple shushes from the other students studying. “Sorry. Great!” he says again, in a whisper this time.

Mark bids goodbye to you and offers a handshake to Sungchan, telling him he’ll see him often in the next two weeks or for as long as you and him are paired-up on your major subjects. Sungchan gives him one last assurance you’ll be home safe.

You ask Sungchan to take a break and open the lunch bag. Inside it are two bento boxes full of food, too much for one person, and you don’t take another minute to wait. Sungchan must have been hungry too, because he doesn’t refuse when you offer the other half of your meal to him.

You’re not really sure how much longer you and Sungchan stay in the library, but as soon as you’ve finalized the structure of the report and have agreed on assigned topics, he suggests that you and him go home and meet up again on Friday so you can start assembling the presentation. And as promised, Sungchan drives you home, glad when he realized your apartment is only ten minutes away from his.

It’s already ten in the evening when you reach home. Mark’s probably already sleeping, you think when you don’t see any light peaking from smallest of the small space between his door and the floor. It’s late anyway, and you don’t really have much energy to tell him about your day like you always do. In fact, you don’t even have the energy to shower anymore, and because you don’t like sleeping on your bed with your outside clothes, you opt to sleep on the couch tonight.

The last thing you do is shoot Donghyuck a text message: “The meal was good.”

삼각관계 (sam-gak-kwan-gae) – love triangle

Jung Sungchan invites you watch to one of his preliminary games the day after you completed the report with him. Mark teasingly tells you that you have boys wrapped around your finger not even two months living in Seoul. You deny the claims, of course, because Sungchan is nothing but a good friend and you don’t see him as anything more.

Donghyuck is the first person you think of when Sungchan gives you two spare tickets for the game, and you like to think that it’s only because you don’t want Mark teasing you and accusing you of romance all afternoon, and also because Donghyuck has a car and Mark is a shit navigator so you can’t trust him to commute with you from the university to the indoor arena where the game is being held.

SNU’s team wins, of course, and you proudly cheer for Sungchan, which earns you a side eye from Donghyuck. You shrug it off and pretend that you didn’t see.

“Can we go now?” Donghyuck asks, bored, when people start leaving the arena.

You shake your head. “Sungchan asked me to wait for him after the game.”

“You know that barbecue place I told you we’d go to?” Donghyuck reminds. “We can go there—“

Your phone rings. It’s Sungchan. Donghyuck sighs.

“Congratulations, nerd!” is the first thing you tell him. Sungchan thanks you, laughing from the other end of the call, and apologizes that he can no longer meet you because the team’s been hogging him the second they won the round.

“It’s fine,” you assure. “I’m with Donghyuck, anyway. I’ll see you at school?”

“No, no,” Sungchan answers. “There’s a small celebration party at Shotaro’s house. It’s a twenty to thirty-minute drive from your apartment. I’ll send you the location. Go there.”

Sungchan hangs up, and not even a second later, you receive a text from him, a location pinned on the message. You show the message and pout at Donghyuck, and he’s looking at you all bored, rolling his eyes, before nodding and taking your hand so you and him could leave the arena.

The drive to the place takes about an hour from the arena, and you spend it singing along to Michael Jackson’s songs.

“You have a really nice voice,” you comment. Donghyuck laughs.

“Baby,” he says. “I wouldn’t be pursuing a career in music if I had a shitty voice.”

The nickname gives you a flush, and you could only hope Donghyuck wouldn’t notice.

Almost two months into meeting Lee Donghyuck, you find yourself unable to keep your heartbeat down whenever he does things like this—calling you nicknames, randomly showing up in places where you are just to say hi, holding your hand, texting and calling you every day, spending his weekends and times off with you, and doing simple and domestic things for you—and your heart tells you it’s okay. There’s nothing wrong with a whirlwind romance in Seoul. Donghyuck doesn’t ever hesitate, and the fact that you’re holding back means you really like him. But the rational part of you says it’s not really a good idea to be in a situationship with someone who will most likely forget you as soon as you go back to Canada, and you can’t afford a heartache from miles away. Besides, Donghyuck probably isn’t that serious with whatever that’s going on.

Rumors say (by rumors, you mean Chenle and Jisung) that Donghyuck is the type of guy who dates one girl after another. Because he’s bold and charming and amiable and likes to expand his choices, and he finds that there’s nothing wrong with dating as long as he doesn’t date multiple women at the same time. You haven’t really seen him out on a date since you had met him. Rumor (Chenle) says that he’s been single since fall of last year and had committed to stay single this year because of the messy breakup and also because he’s on his last year of college, he’d need to focus on stepping up his game if he wants entertainment companies to fight over him as soon as he starts looking for agencies after graduation. Another rumor (Jisung) says he’s rejected many women who have tried to sleep with him since news broke that Lee Donghyuck is newly single. The rumor says he’s as popular as Jung Sungchan when it comes to women, which, if you’re being honest, gives you some kind of pedestal to walk hand-in-hand with him in the university grounds. You realize now that you get the same look from women when you’re with Donghyuck like the stares you got whenever you and Sungchan are stuck in the library for hours of studying.

The only difference is that, well, you like that people stare at you with a hint of jealousy whenever you’re with Donghyuck.

“Why haven’t you invited me to your gigs?” you ask before you could even think about it. “Sungchan’s only been friends with me for like three weeks and he already got me tickets to his game. You, on the other hand…”

The car halts to a slow stop, Donghyuck’s phone telling you that you’ve arrived at your location. Donghyuck doesn’t switch off the engine though. He chuckles licking his lips, then poking his tongue on his cheeks, fucking with your heart and hormones in the process. He keeps his hand on the steering wheel and turns to look at you, eyes hazed in attraction like he’s pulling you in.

“Baby,” he says in a whisper almost. “I don’t like love triangles.”

“Love… triangles?” you repeat.

“Love triangles,” he says in English. “I fucking hate it. And we’re not about to go through that trope in our love story here. So, let me make it clear before we go inside and before you even think about sticking to Sungchan all night.”

You gulp.

“There’s no Sungchan in the equation,” he states like a command and you find yourself nodding, agreeing. “It’s only you and me. Tonight, there will be a lot of people and none of them will be in the equation. Tonight, you’re sticking with me and we’ll talk about this tomorrow. Have fun with me and see if you want to take this to another level, because if you ask me, I’ve been dying to fucking kiss you since the semester began.”

This territory is new, and this Donghyuck is new, too. He’s always been affectionate and he’s never held back, but this new level of honesty is astonishing. Damn attractive if you’re being honest.

“Come here,” he says, ridding himself from his seatbelt. You do the same, leaning closer to him. Donghyuck holds your cheeks with both hands, smiling down at you before leaning in to kiss your forehead. “I’m not giving you mixed signals. This is me giving you a clear, direct sign that I like you and I like what we have, but I’d love to take another step. I’ve been thinking about it, and I don’t really want someone to enter the equation while I’m trying to woo you.”

You giggle. “You already successfully wooed the romance out of me the second you started holding my hand, Lee Donghyuck. And no, there won’t be love triangles.”

Donghyuck’s honesty fires up some courage in you, and you like the feeling of watching him falter when you lean in, hand on the back of his neck, and kiss him for the first time. The man melts in your kiss and in your touch, but doesn’t wait for another heartbeat to kiss you back. And despite of the bottled-up and eagerness from both sides, the first kiss is soft the first time, featherlike and sweet. His lips are even softer than they look and his lips already look plump as it is, and when Donghyuck licks your lips and invites himself in, God, he makes sure you taste the sweetness from his mouth and in a minute you’re addicted and you kiss and kiss and kiss, lips locking, tongue gliding, breaths gasping.

It’s him who pulls away, leaving you with dazed eyes wanting, wanting, wanting more.

Donghyuck gives you one last kiss on the forehead. “Let’s go.”

이렇게? (ireoke) – Like this?

You don’t end up seeing Sungchan at all in the party, and you don’t mind because Donghyuck keeps you glued to his side. The party is fun, but you and Donghyuck decide not to drink a single drop of alcohol. To him, it’s because he has to drive. To you, it’s because you want to be entirely sober to remember whatever happens tonight.

Donghyuck makes out with you in the corner of the living room where people are crumpled, and you like that he doesn’t care that people see. He holds you by the waist and on your neck, and you get it now. You get why women are lining up to sleep with Donghyuck, because if he can kiss like this, what else can he do with his mouth?

You shoot a message to Sungchan with a selfie of you and Donghyuck, thanking him for inviting you to the party and telling him you’ll see him on your next class together (Donghyucks suggests you send Sungchan a picture of you and him making out.) and prompt to leave. Donghyuck says goodbye to a few people he knew, holding you by the waist all the way from the house to where his car is parked.

Donghyuck drives you to his apartment and tells you he’s told Mark you’d be sleeping at his place tonight. The drive itself was intense enough and Donghyuck’s doing an amazing job keeping his cool while you’re practically sweating from the passenger’s seat.

You don’t even get a good look at his apartment when you arrive, because Donghyuck’s already kissing you as he rids himself of his jacket. Donghyuck doesn’t kiss you softly this time; he kisses you like he’s leaving a mark on your mouth, almost like he wants to bruise his presence inside you. He helps you get slip out of your jacket, pulling away quickly to kick his shoes off, before carrying you bridal style and bringing you to his room, kicking the door behind.

Despite the roughness of his kisses, he puts you to bed gently, ridding himself of his shirt and kneeling on the floor so he could help you out of your socks. He leans up once he’s done, one hand on your jaw to pull you down for another kiss, the other caressing your thigh.

“Please tell me this is okay,” he whispers. You nod. “I need your words, baby.”

“Yes, Donghyuck,” you answer, breathless when he starts kissing your neck. “This is okay. Please touch me.”

Donghyuck pushes you a little so half of your body is lying on his bed, your feet flat on his carpeted floor, tugging the loops of your jeans, urging you to lift your hips so he can rid you out of the material. He pulls you back up to take your shirt off from your torso, then he’s helping you back up from the edge of the bed towards the headboard as he crawls on top of you.

“Donghyuck,” you gasp when he goes back to kissing you. You realize that Donghyuck like kissing with the way he’s using his mouth to imprint his presence in you, his tongue licking everywhere it can reach inside your mouth, and he tastes like mint and the soda he had at the party, and he’s everything that you want. “Touch me, please.”

“Like this?” Donghyuck reaches down to rub your clit through the material of your underwear. He rubs slow, teasingly, and kisses you on the mouth when you groan. He dips his head lower and kisses your neck; he bites and nips and sucks and you’re sure it’s leaving a mark you’d have to conceal the next day. “Want me to touch you like this, baby?”

A moan elicits from your throat, and Donghyuck doesn’t waste any more time. He slips his warm hand between your skin and your underwear, really touching you, rubbing your clit gently, his digits dragging itself on your slit slowly, gathering your wetness then going back to rub your clit again, more roughly with the pool of wetness his fingers have now.

“Like this?” he asks again, pushing a finger inside when he finds your hole, urging another moan from your lips.

“Oh my God, Donghyuck,” you gasp when he fingers you gently, your wetness making a sound when he adds another finger. Donghyuck takes his time, biting his lips as he watches you writhe underneath his touch.

“Pull your bra down,” he breathes out, and you do. When your breasts are out on the open, Donghyuck doesn’t waste time and locks lips with your nipple, sucking and licking as he fingers the sanity out of you. He alternates from fingering you with two digits and rubbing you using his thumb, and you’re all putty and messy under him, and you want more, more, more, more.

“Baby, please fuck me,” you beg. “Please, Donghyuck. Please fuck me”

Donghyuck hushes you. “I will, baby. I’ll fuck you so well, you’ll come running back to me tomorrow and the day after, and the day after.”

But he doesn’t. He pulls his fingers out, hold you by your jaw so you could lock eyes while he licks the proof of your attraction to him from his fingers, sucking and showing you just how well he could use his tongue. He doesn’t fuck you get but he rids you of the last garments from your body and does the fucking impossible.

Donghyuck eats you out like it’s the last meal he’ll ever have. He swirls his tongue on your clit as he pushes his digits back in your hole, fingering you like it’s all he’s ever wanted, and he’s got you chanting his name like a prayer when his tongue laps your sex, even more when he replaces his fingers with his tongue. You’re writhing and screaming and Donghyuck’s holding your legs apart while he pleasures you with his mouth and hands.

You don’t want to cum yet, but Donghyuck’s so, so good, and it looks like he’s not stopping anytime soon. He tongues you back to your clit and fingers you with three digits, fast and rough.

“Donghyuck, I’m going to—” You see white and stars and you stay still when Donghyuck continues fingering you, moving all three fingers in an upward motion, reaching where you want him the most, mouth sucking your clit as you ride the first orgasm you’ve had in months.

Donghyuck lets you have your moment when it’s done, taking the time to lick the slick wetness from his fingers down to his wrist, kneeling between your legs. You push yourself up so that you’re sitting with your legs wide open, your palms flat on his sheets, head tilted for a kiss. Donghyuck leans over and kisses you again, and you never thought you’d like tasting yourself in his tongue. You guess everything tastes sweeter when it’s in Donghyuck’s mouth.

“Off, please,” you murmur, pulling the loops from his jeans. Donghyuck obeys, removing all pieces of clothing until he’s naked.

You marvel at his beauty, licking your lips when you finally see him bare and clean. His golden skin looks like honey and you want to kiss the fuck out of his collarbones and leave your mark for everyone to see. Your eyes travel from his chest down to the trail from his tummy down to his erect cock. He’s hard and red and you salivate from how big he looks and feel yourself getting even more wet at the thought of him fucking you. Before you know it, you’re reaching out, moving so you could kneel, and taking his hardness in your hand. Donghyuck moans for the first time tonight, and you plan to elicit that sound from him all night.

Stroking him slowly, you feel a rush of satisfaction when Donghyuck pants your name. “Oh my God,” he moans when you bend over, a palm flat on his sheets, your other hand stroking him as you take him to your mouth. He gathers your hair and watches you from above, and you purposely stick your ass up higher when you feel him twitch as you take more of his cock into your mouth. When you’re about halfway, you stroke the rest of what you can’t take and start sucking and licking, and Donghyuck makes the absolute best sound ever. You like his voice when he sings, but you don’t think anything could compare with how he’s whining your name as you suck his dick thoroughly, licking and jerking off whatever your mouth couldn’t fit. A part of you wants to ask Donghyuck to fuck your mouth, bruise your throat with his dick and cum straight down your fucking stomach if he wants to, but that could be arranged next time. This time, with his dick hard and wet from your mouth, you want him to fuck you.

You suck him one last time before you pull away, a string of your saliva following when you look up at Donghyuck. “Now, will you fuck me?”

Donghyuck looks fucked out, eyes dazed with lust, and you want nothing more than for him to ruin you. And Donghyuck doesn’t need to be asked twice.

He crawls back up until you’re lying on your back, legs wide open for him, and kneels between your legs. “Ready and sure?” he asks for the last time, stroking himself.

“Pull out when you cum,” is all you say and Donghyuck goes for it. He gives you a kiss and rests one of his forearms beside your arm, massaging the head of his cock on your opening until he’s stretching you out.

“Fuck,” Donghyuck groans when he feels your tightness. “God damn, Y/N, when was the last time you got fucked?”

“I—I can’t remember,” you say. “None of them were worth remembering.”

“And me?” Donghyuck asks as he pushes deeper until he’s fully stretched you and his pelvis is leaning against your clit. “Will you remember me?”

“Ask me next time,” you breathe out. “I think you’ll have to fuck me every day so I can remember.”

Donghyuck gives you some time, kissing you softly. “When was the last time you fucked anyone?” you ask in return.

“I can’t remember,” he parrots. “None of them were worth remembering. All I know is that this is the first time I’m feeling someone raw.” Then he bottoms out, gives you only half a second before he’s thrusting back and out and back and out and back and out, slowly but surely fucking you well.

Donghyuck fucks you like he means it. His hips snap roughly but makes sure you feel all of him before he thrusts out and he’s everywhere. His tongue is in your mouth, then on your neck, his free hand is caressing one of your breasts, playing with your nipples, and he’s making you feel so, so good and you’re not sure how you go back from here. You’re not sure how you could go on with life knowing how well Donghyuck can fuck you. He’s got you squirming and reaching your second orgasm only minutes into fucking the life out of you.

When you’re close, Donghyuck pushes himself up so that he’s kneeling again, and lifts both your legs, resting your calves on either side of his shoulders, hugging your legs so he can fuck you deeper in this angle. The precision makes you chant his name over and over again and he takes one of his hands down to rub your clit. You try your best to hold back from cumming because the way he’s fucking you now feels so damn good that you want it to last for a long time. He thrusts in and out quickly, his balls hitting the bottom of your ass again and again.

“Come for me, baby,” he says. “Let go.”

So, you do, and Donghyuck keeps on fucking you through it. Donghyuck lets you finish, before he’s pushing the back of your knees down so your thighs are pressed up against your stomach, chasing his own orgasm, and fucks you hard, without rhythm, until he is moaning your name like praise and he’s pulling out so he could release on your stomach. You reach up to caress his cheek as you watch him in awe as he finishes, his face contorted in pleasure, lips wet and eyes closed.

When it’s done, Donghyuck kisses you on the forehead and helps you clean up. He leaves to go to the bathroom for a minute to grab a warm, wet towel, cleaning your stomach, and carries you back to the bathroom with him. The shower is warm, and Donghyuck is gentle and sweet when he cleans you up, giving you kisses when he pats you dry once he’s gotten rid of the shampoo and body wash from your hair and skin. Donghyuck tells you there’s a spare toothbrush on behind the mirror and washes himself as you brush your teeth, naked but warm.

Donghyuck tells you to that the right side of his closet is where you can find the clothes he uses at home and you follow as he finishes cleaning himself up. You take the liberty to take one of his shirts that are still too big for you despite Donghyuck’s frame and slip a pair of cotton shorts.

Donghyuck finds you half-asleep when he’s done showering; he sleeps shirtless, you reckon, because he crawls to bed only in sweatpants. He cuddles you from behind, kissing the clothed shoulder, and the last thing you hear before you drift off to sleep is him humming a song your mind can’t recognize and a promise that you’ll talk about this the next day.

You wake up to the smell of Spam, an empty space beside yours, and the sound of Donghyuck singing a song from BOL4, which you learned is one of his favorite musicians.

Donghyuck smiles warmly at you when you find him in the kitchen, just about to finish pan-frying the last piece of sliced luncheon meat. He’s still shirtless, but is wearing a cute pink apron, and he gives you a quick kiss on the lips like it’s the most natural thing ever. The second his lips pull away from yours, you reach up and touch where he kissed, lips tingling—in disbelief that what happened last night is real.

“Good morning,” he hums. “Just in time for breakfast.”

“Donghyuck,” you trail off. “Can we talk first?”

Donghyuck nods, offering that you sit on the high stool across the small kitchen island. He sits next to you, turning the seat so that you’re face to face, knees touching. “What do we want to do?” he asks.

“You know I’m leaving in like, four months, right?” you start.

Donghyuck whistles. “We just started and you’re already breaking up with me?”

“No, no,” you say, exhaling. “This… this. I like. You. I like.”

“Baby, construct your sentences properly,” he laughs.

“I like you,” you confess. “And I like this. I like holding your hands. And kissing you. And what we did last night. I’m just worried because—”

“Because you’re leaving,” he finishes for you. “I know, but I also like you a lot. More than you probably think. And I don’t want to miss my chance getting to know you more just because you’re leaving in a few months. I don’t know what you want, but here’s what I want, you let me know if it works for you, if not, then I’ll still be a friend. Who might cry for two weeks straight if you reject me.”

You laugh but urge him to continue.

“I want to date you, and get to know you even more. Your quirks, the things that make you angry, your comfort food, the movies that give you the ick,” he continues. “Your family, how you were raised, if you like Marvel or DC more, what Hogwarts house you belong to, if you like pineapple in pizza or not, whether you pour milk or cereal first, if you ever kissed Mark Lee, if Mark Lee’s ever had a crush on you.”

“What does Mark have—”

“Shh,” he stops. “It’s my turn. Talk later. Anyway, I want this—” he gestures the space between you and him. “And I want you. I want to keep teaching you the language and I know what’s ahead of us is scary, and there’s only two things that could happen: this is going to be either the biggest heartbreak of my life or you’re going to be the greatest love of my life. It’s a fifty-fifty chance, Y/N. Let’s just say I’m willing to risk whatever if it means I have 50% the chances of having you as the greatest love of my life.”

Oh. You don’t realize you’re staring quietly until Donghyuck holds your hand.

“Now tell me,” he asks slowly. “What do you want?”

You don’t hesitate. “I want you, Lee Donghyuck.”

일어날 수 있는 최악의 상황은 무엇입니까? il-eonal su issneun choeag-ui sanghwang-eun mueos-ibnikka? What’s the worst that could happen?

It doesn’t come out as a surprise to anyone when you and Donghyuck arrive at Arcade holding hands, a shy smile playing on your lips, a proud one in Donghyuck’s. You were thankful that there were no teasing remarks coming from your friends—that they were taking this so well, like it’s normal. Like it’s meant to happen anyway. There’s a knowing smirk on Mark’s stupid face, but you love him and you can’t wait to tell him all about how you feel towards Donghyuck. “Okay, so my birthday falls on a weekend,” Jeno announces. “And I think it’s the best time to go to the amusement park. Will you have work then, Renjun-ah?”

“Most likely,” Renjun answers, mouth full of food as he chews on a bite of pizza. “But I can have Yerim cover for me. I’ll just return the favor if she needs me one day.”

“Sweet!” Jeno exclaims. “So, it’s decided then. We’ll go to the amusement park on my birthday.”

As you and Donghyuck play footsie under the table, Mark stands, turning to you. “I’m going to get another milkshake. Come with me?”

You nod, kicking Donghyuck one last time and standing to follow your best friend. Somehow, you feel bad for not saying anything about your growing feelings for Donghyuck, considering that Mark is your best friend in the entire universe and you’re his. If it were him, he would’ve told you the second he caught feelings to anyone. But Mark knows you’re not the kind to admit feelings like this as soon as it starts inflating in your chest; he knows you’re the type to hold it in until you can’t anymore. Having had terrible relationships in the past, Mark has always known that you’re the kind to be careful.

“I didn’t think you’d actually go for it,” Mark says as soon as you and him are out of earshot. “Don’t get me wrong. I’m happy for you. I just didn’t expect this to happen so quickly.”

“Me neither,” you mumble under your breath. “Sorry for not saying anything.”

Mark chuckles. “You didn’t have to. I mean, we all kinda always known this would happen. I just couldn’t imagine how you and Donghyuck sealed it so quickly, like considering how shy and quiet you always were whenever he was around.”

“I was shy and quiet with everyone around,” you remark. “Donghyuck taught me all these slangs and now I can’t stop talking.”

The woman in the counter asks you what she can help you with when you reach her. Mark tells his order alongside some sides Renjun had asked him to get. He leans on the counter, turning back to you. “Anyway.”

“Yeah?”

“I think you’re serious serious.” Mark clears his throat. “Like, I’ve known you for so long and you’ve always been hesitant to do shit. I’ve always been the spontaneous and reckless one between us, and you’re the careful one. The one who thinks everything through before deciding on it—this trip to Seoul included on the long list.”

“Your point is?” you ask, even though you know exactly where this is going.

Mark licks his lips before continuing: “What I’m saying is, you’ve never been this certain so quickly.”

That’s right. Not to be cliché or whatever, but this is normally how it goes for you. Relationships used to be difficult for you—from the pining to the confession to its climax to its end, until the bargaining and acceptance—and you’d never been the type to go through things so quickly and easily. With Donghyuck, you’d somehow done it backwards (and Mark doesn’t need to know that you slept with Donghyuck before you even sealed the damn relationship) but for some reason, you had forgotten how you’re supposed to act around people you like romantically. It scares the shit out of you, the connection between you and Donghyuck, but you’ve always been a firm believer that if it doesn’t scare you, it probably isn’t something worth doing. It feels like jumping from a cliff, to the bottom of the unknown, and it’s new, but it makes your heart pound like never before.

“I don’t want to get ahead and say something that’d make you change your mind somehow, because I also like you and Donghyuck together,” he explains when you only stare at him. “But, as your best friend, with the best intentions only, please don’t go breaking your heart before we leave, yeah?”

You nod, understanding and appreciating Mark’s sentiment. “What’s the worst that could happen?”

Mark shrugs. “We won’t really know. Take care, yeah?”

You smile stepping closer to hug Mark. “I love you, you know that, right?” he asks. You nod, your face buried on his chest. “Good. I’ll beat Donghyuck’s ass if he hurts you in anyway.”

“I sure hope you do,” you reply, just in time for the staff to call Mark’s attention, the tray of his order ready for him.

Donghyuck is pouting when you return, asking why you and Mark took too long because the seat beside him is all cold now. You kiss him on the cheek and tell him Mark just told you he’s beating his ass if you’re hurt in anyway.

“Mark can’t hurt a fly,” Donghyuck remarks. “What makes you think he can hurt me, huh?”

Mark scoffs. “You’ll be the first.”

계절과 계절 사이 (gyejeolgwa gyejeol sai) – between seasons

When the seasons start to change—from the rainy, cold spring transition to a warm, sunny summer—you and Donghyuck change, too.

From the euphoric blooming of your relationship—the playful dates, the passionate moments in his bedroom (because ever since Mark adopted that cat, Donghyuck could never stay at your place for longer than an hour), the heart-warming feeling of seeing him waiting for your after your class—to the warm, comfortable attachment stage, you feel like you know Donghyuck in a deeper sense now.

The small notebook he’d given you at the beginning of the term is halfway full, its pages messily scribbled with phrase and sentences you had learned—likewise the memories those words carry—and soon enough you find yourself more comfortable with the language, and eventually with Seoul. You find yourself enjoying, and not in a way that makes you think you’d want to visit again soon.

The journey with Seoul was initially a play to learn the language and its beautiful culture: a detour. A diversion from your plans. A stop while you figure out what you want in life. Your last year in university is supposed to be the year you finally decide what to do next. Visiting Seoul was an opportunity for you to really get to know yourself beyond your comfort zone, to really challenge your capabilities, to learn beyond what your hometown had in store for you.

But these days do not feel like Seoul is a place to visit.

In a way, liberating albeit frightening, you find yourself thinking that perhaps Seoul is a place to build a home in. The home is built from arms that hold you on days when it’s extra cold, your nose red and hands frozen, and its shelter is made from Donghyuck’s warm smile and the assurance of him being there for you. And right now, while you sit closely together at the back of your friend’s car, their obnoxiously loud voices singing to some pop song along the radio, you feel it: home.

Jeno likes the phone case you had customized for him, and he gives you a big, bear hug as soon as he take a peek of what’s inside your present.

“I love you. I literally love you with all my being,” he dramatically says as he squishes you.

“That’s my girlfriend, you idiot,” Donghyuck complains, pulling Jeno’s arms away from you. With the way you three are seated at the back of Renjun’s car, you sitting in between them, it’s uncomfortable and Donghyuck insists on taking part of the little moment you’re having with Jeno.

Jeno whines, “Let me love her. This is the best gift ever!”

Donghyuck ends up puffing air out of his mouth, pouting and leaning back so Jeno could hug you. You’re laughing and Jeno whispers how easily they could make him sulk these days because you’re around.

Mark, who’s sitting on the passenger seat beside Renjun, announces you’ve arrived at the amusement park, just as Jaemin’s car halts to a slow stop behind you.

It’s the first time you’ve ever visited the famous amusement park in Seoul, and Mark looks excited with the way he’s jumping as you line up for the tickets. Donghyuck has his arm around you, taking pictures with his other hand. The rest are chattering, talking about the rides they’d love to try.

The secretly group decides to stick together for the entire day to celebrate Jeno’s day, despite the birthday boy himself telling everyone they can go wherever they want to. You could see how much they really care about one another and they all just hide it in their mean, vile jokes. For example, the man who has his arm wrapped around you likes teasing Jeno like it’s his full-time job, but is hiding a birthday present inside the trunk of Renjun’s car (and would most likely give it before you all head home, act like his best friend’s birthday isn’t that much of a big deal).

Most of the day is spent following Jeno around, whatever ride he wanted to try and your ears ringing because of how loud Donghyuck is screaming. The temperature has gone from freezing cold to warm, the humidity making it a little harder for everybody to move around under the warmth of the sun.

“I never realized how much of a scaredy cat you are, Donghyuckie,” you tease as soon as you walk out of the roller coaster ride. “Not much of a tough guy now, huh?”

Donghyuck whines, “I liked you better when the words you spoke were only yes and no.”

Mark laughs, slapping Donghyuck on the back. “Oh man, that was really good.”

“Yeah?” You rebut. “And I liked you better when you weren’t screaming like a kid.”

Donghyuck smirks, “And I like you better when you’re screaming my name.”

Renjun and Jisung cough in disgust, and Mark just straight up slapped the back of Donghyuck’s head. “You two are disgusting. I can’t believe I live with you, Y/N.”

Donghyuck laughs, turning to you. “It’s pretty hot. Want me to go grab you a can of soda? Ice cold water?”

“Water, please,” you say. Donghyuck nods and gives you a quick kiss on the cheek before pulling Chenle with him and walking to the opposite side where a small shop is. In the meantime, the rest of you occupy the benches under a shade, Jeno asking which ride to go next.

Donghyuck and Chenle return in a matter of time, bottles of drinks in their hands. They give everyone their preferred drinks, Donghyuck sitting beside Mark and extending an arm so he could hand you your drink from his side.

“Fucking summer,” Donghyuck curses. “I hate summer.”

Renjun raises an eyebrow. “Suddenly?”

“It’s not even summer yet,” Jaemin points out. “What happened to you? You’ve always been so excited about summer.”

“It’s so hot. I can’t stand this fucking temperature,” Donghyuck mumbles.

Renjun scoffs. “You start planning our summer getaway as early as March.”

“It’s already April and you have nothing yet,” Jisung points out.

“Yeah, what the hell, man. I hate your ridiculous ideas, but we can’t survive summer without you,” Jeno adds, then looks at Mark. “Yo, Mark, what about you? What are you doing this summer?”

You and Mark freeze, looking at each other for a second, before the latter speaks for you both: “We’re, uh, we’re supposed to go home.”

It seems like Jeno didn’t know the weight of his question because he apologizes as soon as he realizes it. The group falls into silence, no one says anything, or perhaps nobody could think of anything to say, not even you or Mark.

With your days in Seoul numbered, you realize now that you haven’t really talked about it—not you and Mark, not you and Donghyuck—and it never really felt real. You had always told yourself you’ll cross the bridge when you get there, and the bridge is nearby.

Donghyuck clears his throat. “The sun’s going to kill me. I think I saw a burger joint that has an air-conditioning system down the corner of that street. Shall we go there?”

Everybody agrees and stand to leave. Donghyuck holds your hand, pulling you close and steals a kiss on your cheek. The gesture makes your heart flutter. Donghyuck is warm, but not in the way the sun is hot right now—in a way that gets you thinking: can this warmth reach Vancouver?

Your skin hurts when the sunlight hits you. You hate summer.

 오해 하지마 (ohae hajima) – Don’t misunderstand

Donghyuck had a face that looked like what an artist would draw in a whim—spontaneously—like it was done in a rush, like a portrait from a park done by a street artist, something done with a pencil. Ink stains are harder to wash off, and anyway, figments aren’t mean to last—and he’s almost unrecognizable in this light.

You can’t recognize him on the night of his birthday.

His Mother had gone above and beyond and invited all of their closest relatives and family friends for his 23rd birthday, and it’s also your first time meeting them.

It’s nerve-wracking to say the least, but his Mother smiles at you kindly when she greets you from the entrance of the restaurant they rented for the evening. You could tell his family was wealthy, and it makes sense because Donghyuck got the most bare minimum job he could find, and it’s most likely because he doesn’t need to get one; he probably only got one so he could talk about work, too, just like the rest of his friends.

The birthday party is a surprise and it was Renjun who connected with everyone to make sure they attend here tonight. You had to make up some excuse to Donghyuck when he asked why you can’t join him for dinner with his family tonight and had promised to make it up to him the day after.

You’re sat in the same table as Mark, Renjun, Jeno, and Jaemin, a bit far away from Donghyuck’s family’s table, as you wait for the birthday boy, your present sitting on top of the round table. Mark talks about his cat, letting Jaemin watch snippets of his pet from his phone, and Renjun is narrating a story about his “ridiculous and absurd encounter with Liu Yangyang (and you and Jeno can’t pass up the opportunity to tease him about it).

Then, someone comes sit beside Jaemin, the boys gasping when they see her.

Karina is beautiful, and even saying that isn’t enough to describe the woman’s beauty. Soft-spoken and brilliant, Karina naturally allows everyone to gravitate towards her. All, including yourself, are pulled like magnet when she arrived. Jeno introduces you and you allow yourself to throw a quick and inaudible “hello” when she reaches over and asks you how you are.

Donghyuck’s Mother almost screams when she sees Karina, excitement filling up the air as she hugs her and thanks her for attending.

“I wouldn’t miss Hyuckie’s birthday for the world, eommoni,” Karina answers, and before you could ask Renjun how she’s related to Donghyuck, Jisung, who’s seated in another table with Donghyuck’s younger siblings, announces that the birthday man himself has arrived.

Donghyuck enters the hall, surprised and happy when he sees everyone, a dramatic cry leaving his lips as everyone greets him happy birthday. He feigns complaint, whining that he’s no longer eight years old, but hugs his parents anyway.

His parents thank everyone for joining a precious day and celebrating their eldest son’s birthday with them. Donghyuck bows and starts to go around to thank people.

You don’t recognize Donghyuck when he finally reaches your table and he gives you small smile, hugging you quickly before moving on to the next person. You don’t recognize Donghyuck when he goes to Karina, lifting her as he hugs her tightly, and thanking her for being able to come. You don’t recognize Donghyuck when his Mother joins the little reunion and he laughs when his Mother jokes about them missing each other too much.

“She’s the one who left me all alone here in Seoul,” Donghyuck pouts. “We wouldn’t have missed each other this much if you had stayed!”

“Don’t be such a drama queen, Hyuckie,” Karina says, rolling her eyes. “You visited me in Tokyo literally six months ago.”

Six months ago, which means, it was right before you arrived in Seoul.

You want to be anywhere else but here, and you don’t want to listen any further, but the scenario runs like a comedy show and the punch line is you.

“You two better decide whatever the hell you want to do with your lives by the end of the year,” Donghyuck’s Mother comments. “I mean, no one’s stopping you from moving to Tokyo, Donghyuck. You and Karina can rekindle whatever light was burnt last year. I’m glad you stayed best of friends despite the long distance. You’ve always made a great couple.”

Your breath hitches like your lungs had just been punch. Donghyuck, it seems, finally remembers you’re watching this unfold. Mark holds you, and bless him because your legs feel like they’re about to give up. You and Donghyuck make eye contact, but you don’t recognize him at all.

“Eomma,” Donghyuck clears his throat. Everything else he’s said come out like a blur, and Mark is just holding you close.

“Don’t misunderstand,” Renjun whispers closely. “They’re just friends.”

You don’t recognize Donghyuck when he watches you leave.

천천히 말씀해 주세요 (chun-chun-hee mal-sseum-heh ju-seh-yo)  - Please speak slowly | 집 (jib) - home

Karina turns out to be the one that got away. The one true love. The greatest love. The childhood best friend who’s always been there. The leading woman. She turns out to be the protagonist in Donghyuck’s story.

You learn all of these from Renjun. Even when he refused to say a single word and had begged for you to talk to Donghyuck instead, you learn the truth by asking Mark to ask Renjun.

Donghyuck and Karina. Karina and Donghyuck. Two peas in a pod. A tight knit. Knowing each other like the back of their hands. A buy one, get one kind of deal. Where one is, the other would follow. And everyone and their moms know that it has always been like that, will always be like that.

Donghyuck and Karina, born on the same year, grew up in the same small village in Jeju island. Having been inseparable since, they ended up moving to Seoul together in high school. Donghyuck’s parents were supportive of Donghyuck pursuing a career in music, and they believed that moving to Seoul was the first step for their beloved son to find his spotlight. Karina’s parents, however, couldn’t afford moving alongside the Lee family despite wanting to support their daughter, too. Donghyuck begged his parents to have Karina move in with them so her parents would only worry about paying her tuition and allowances. The Lee family agreed, of course, because Donghyuck and Karina were fifteen, and they were the best team the world has ever known.

Karina is a talented dancer, and with a face like hers, it would be a shame to keep her in a small town in Jeju island. Her moving to Seoul had been the first step to her early success, because as soon as she reached puberty and had gained a butt and a pair of breasts, agencies were scouting her, creepily waiting for her outside of hers and Donghyuck’s high school. She’d declined, of course, with a promise to Donghyuck that they’d go to stardom together, but Donghyuck wanted to study and make music, and he felt as though he needed to go to college for that.

Karina eventually moved to another dormitory when she started training. Donghyuck moved downtown to start college. They were in different places, but they were still inseparable.

Pretty much every day Donghyuck would meet up with Karina when she started training; if not, then he’d be on Facetime with her during the hours when she’s not working. He had brought her to SNU many times, and they had started dating by the time Donghyuck is in his second year. All the other guys know Karina and her place in Donghyuck’s life. Somehow, a bitter part of you feels betrayed that none of them ever mentioned about Donghyuck’s great love, but you can’t really blame them for not saying anything.

They broke up on the latter months of last year because Karina had to move to Tokyo. There was no big fight apparently, just the decision that it’s most likely not going to work because—listen to this; this is the biggest punch line of this comedy show—Donghyuck can’t handle long distance.

You had answered one of Donghyuck’s calls by mistake. He’s mad for some reason, perhaps angry of the fact that you’re ignoring him and he doesn’t have much control like he normally does.

“Y/N, for fuck’s sake, why haven’t you answered?” he had cried out as soon as you answered.

“I was busy,” was all you could come up with. You brain had not been working good enough to translate things to Korean.

“What do you mean you were busy?” he had asked, voice loud and angry. “You literally disappeared on me! On my fucking birthday! And I’m done playing nice and cool because this is unfair. Whatever the fuck you’re doing is unfair you’re not letting me in. If you could just let me explain, things—”

“Please speak slowly.”

“—would be easier for the two of us. Whatever Karina and I had, it’s been over since last year. It’s over way before I met you. I never thought of her, not even for a goddamn second since we got together. I wouldn’t fucking betray you like that—”

“I can’t understand you.”

“—and I can’t believe you don’t trust me enough to let me at least tell you what happened! I never mentioned her because I never even thought about her! My Mother doesn’t know anything! I’ve wanted you to meet my Mother for a long time, but given our situation, a fucking time bomb ticking, I didn’t know if it was too early to go to that stage.”

“Time bomb?” you had asked, repeating the syllables slowly. “What’s that?”

Donghyuck sighed on the other line. “The thing that explodes at a predetermined time.”

“Oh, a time bomb,” you asked in English, chuckling. “That, we are.”

“Huh?”

“We’re a fucking time bomb,” you said, again in English, because if Donghyuck could keep talking in his mother tongue without considering if you’d understand a single word, so could you. “We’re ticking and we’re just waiting for this shit to explode. And I can’t wait and watch myself burn, Donghyuck. I can’t.”

“Please speak slowly,” he pleaded in Korean. You don’t.

“This isn’t going to work,” you responded, still in your mother tongue. “Maybe this is a clear sign for us, Donghyuck. Goodbye.”

Mark finds you crying on floor of your living, your back leaning on the feet of the couch, two weeks after Donghyuck’s birthday.

The first week, you had convinced your friends you were fine and that you just needed time. Donghyuck’s been reaching out to everybody, and Mark, being the best friend he is, lies regarding your whereabouts every time Donghyuck visits.

You don’t know how many calls Donghyuck had tried to make and how many text messages he’d left because you had completely abandoned your phone for the last couple of weeks and only relied on your computer to check any e-mails from your professors.

“I’m sorry,” Mark says, and you feel a rush of relief when he talks to you in English. You’ve had enough of Korean and Korean men these days. “It sucks, man. I don’t even know what to say. I’m so fucking disappointed with Donghyuck.”

“Shouldn’t you be more disappointed with me?” you sniffle. “I should have listened to you. We were moving too fast.”

Mark shakes his head, pulling you closer so that your head is resting on his shoulder. “I couldn’t blame you. Donghyuck’s charming, and I genuinely thought he was in love with you. I mean, I could say is, because I really think he’s sorry about everything.”

“We didn’t even get to properly break up,” you cry. “Our flight back home is in like, two weeks. I was supposed to talk to him and decide what we’d do with our relationship. For his birthday, I made a stupid mixtape that he could keep in his car and a very expensive and fucking cheesy set of touch lamps I found online for whenever he would miss me. And I keep making stupid letters like a fucking idiot so I could leave him with a bunch of poorly constructed letters just so he knows how much I’ll fucking miss him.”

Mark stays silent as you sob your heart out.

“And can you believe I actually thought it’d work?” you say, exasperated. “I’m so fucking sorry to myself. I’m just glad it’s over before I did shit I’d regret later on.””

“Shit like?” Mark asks.

You sigh, sniffling and screaming internally because the tears would stop. “I was already looking into internships here. For my last semester in college. I had already decided to decline the internship they were offering back home—thank God I haven’t sent that e-mail from my drafts—and I’ve found really good companies here. And if I’m lucky, I was thinking of moving here after college.”

Mark clicks his tongue. “All because of Donghyuck?”

“Because he feels like home, Mark,” you reason out. “He’s warm, and I can’t believe I’m admitting this now, but I love him. I love him so fucking much.”

“Oh, Y/N.”

“And we would have been happy. I would’ve done everything I could,” you confess. “And this fucking language barrier will be the death of me, but I would’ve learned more. I’d be an expert by the end of the year. And now, this whole Karina thing made me realize how much more I need to know about him.”

Mark holds you closer as though holding you would make things better. “When we were kids,” he starts. “Whenever I told you stories about how much I miss all the people I had to leave behind whenever we had to move from one country to another, one state to another, you’d always tell me to never build houses out of people.”

You remember. You always admired how Mark could move from one place to another, his suitcase and the ghost of the friendships he made following his trail, and he’s always told you about the loneliness it comes with.

“You used to tell me shelters aren’t supposed to be made of arms wrapped around you on a cold night, or hands that hold you when you’re feeling lonely,” he continues. “And I can’t blame you, because humans are known not to follow their own advice. But I hope you find home in things you’d never lose.”

You nod. “I’m sorry for breaking rule number three.”

“You’ll get over him,” he assures. “If you decide to really end things here, I mean. I’m sure you can get over him. It’s easier to get over people when you don’t see him.”

You nod, “Let’s go home, Mark.”

“Back home?”

You smile. “Yes. Back home.”

갈망 (galmang) - longing

It’s Giselle who picks you up from the airport.

You reunite like old friends, but Giselle really didn’t change that much. Even the weather didn’t change much. The same old. You wish you could say the same to yourself.

The flight to Vancouver was the most painful ten hours of your life, both literally and figuratively. It was hard watching your friends bid you goodbye, and you could tell they were dreading your departure as much as you and Mark were. Mark assures them you and him would save up to visit them again this year and as much as you’d wanted to stay, your student visa would allow you only six months. Mark promises he’d work on a tourist visa or whatever because despite being 100% ethnically Korean, but legally, he can’t just visit whenever he wants.

The pain from your breakup with Donghyuck is nothing compared to seeing Mark leave his friends again. You know how much they mean to him, and by extension, how much they mean to you regardless of what happened before your departure.

The head of student exchange program sends you warm greetings through text, followed by a series of messages from your friends and family. You’re glad Giselle had decided to pick you up from the airport, because you don’t think you’re in a good state to pretend like you’re okay, and Giselle knows.

Of course, she knows.

Giselle’s been your anchor during your last weeks in Seoul. Mark reckons that if anyone would understand you best during this time, it would be Giselle. After all, she’d gone through the same thing.

Like Mark, Giselle moved to Seoul with her parents for a few years. She had a similar experience with Mark, considering that her parents are constantly moving around—from Japan to South Korea then to Vancouver. Giselle was only in Seoul for two years before her parents moved back to Vancouver again, and in between those years she had met Kevin Moon, the love of her life.

They have been dating for almost four years now, two of those years, they dated long distance.

“How’d you make it work?” you had asked Giselle over Facetime once.

“It wasn’t perfect,” she admitted. “We broke up a couple of time because it was really difficult. And neither of us were willing to move for each other. I mean, don’t get me wrong, Kevin and I, we love each other. Truly we do. But I wouldn’t want to plant my entire life in Seoul for him. In the same manner, I don’t want him to move from Seoul to Vancouver for me when we both know for a fact that he’d be more successful in Korea than here. I guess, I don’t know, I don’t have an advice I could give you.”

“I’m not asking for advice,” you denied. “I mean. Donghyuck and I have only been dating for like, two weeks. I wouldn’t think that far at this time.”

Giselle had laughed at the other end of the line. “Let me tell you one thing, though.”

“Mhm.”

“It’s all a matter of choice,” she had said slowly, like she wanted to imprint the words to your brain. “Your heart isn’t made of diamonds. Your lungs aren’t made of steel. Somehow, inevitably, you’d grow tired—tired of timezones and how you never get the timing right, tired of not having someone to hug when you need it, tired of having to compromise—and it’s not an easy game.”

Giselle was smiling when she’d said the rest: “But Kevin is so worth it. I’ll grow tired of the baggage long distance comes with, but I don’t think I could live without him, you know? And it’s exaggerated, I know, and neither of us know what the future holds, but we’re choosing us. We chose to stay.”

It would have been beautiful, you think, if things worked out between you and Donghyuck. You would have written poems and prose in places about how you chose to stay. You would have learned about time zones and the best time to call, could have learned how to purchase the cheapest flight tickets to see each other, would have learned love and compromise together.

But you’re here, back in Vancouver, the voices of Mark and Giselle all blurred out from the backseat, and all you could think of is how much you miss Donghyuck.

예기치 않은 (yegichi anh-eun) - unexpected

The head of the student exchange program asks you to write an article about your experience in Seoul and gives you until the fall semester begins, just in time for the university’s own publishing house to produce this year’s school paper. You’re stuck at two hundred words and a stupid title Mark came up with: “Learning Languages”—and you’re thinking about withdrawing from that spot in the newspaper but Mark keeps calling you a heartbroken loser and you’re not about to let Mark Lee get the last word.

You’re eating cereal and watching an episode of Suits to prepare to write again (yes, a 30-minute preparation time is needed for such task) when someone knocks at your door.

You know how, in movies, the main character would see things in slow motion as soon as the love of their life enters the scene? That’s exactly what happens when you open the door and find Lee Donghyuck standing outside your dorm room, a too-large for his body backpack on one shoulder and his heart upon his sleeve.

미안해 (mianhae) – I’m sorry | 사랑해 (saranghae) – I love you

“I’m sorry,” are the first words that Lee Donghyuck comes up with, and truthfully are the words you needed to hear from him. He says it in his mother tongue and you feel his heart in his voice.

“Mark?” you ask, knowing full well it’s Mark who helped him.

“Yes but no,” he answers. “He said he’d only give me your address but he’s not picking me up or helping me. My flight landed literally six hours ago and I’ve been looking for you since.”

Donghyuck sits across you on the small table you own inside your small room. His backpack is sitting on his feet and his shoulders are slumped. Donghyuck allows himself to look small compared to all the times you were with him.

“Y-you look good,” he comments, eyes glued on you. “I’m glad you’re healthy, at least.”

“You, too,” you mumble. “Tea? Coffee?”

“Water would be fine, please and thank you.” You reach over to hand him a bottle. “And who are you kidding? I look awful.”

He does. He looks exactly what he said he had done to get here. Look for you for six hours after a ten-hour flight from Incheon. Donghyuck downs the bottle of water. Poor guy probably hasn’t eaten.

“Why are you here, Donghyuck?” you ask as soon as he’s done drinking.

Donghyuck clears his throat. “I don’t really know what I want out of this trip.”

You keep your arms crossed over your chest.

“And I’m not about to beg you to take me back,” he continues. “I just wanted to explain. I just want you to know what happened. I can live without you, but I can’t live with you thinking I had betrayed you.”

“Donghyuck, there’s really no need to explain. Renjun has told Mark all I needed to know.”

“No, let me say it please. I spent a fortune to come here, and I’m going to make you listen if it’s the last thing I’d do. After this, I’ll leave. I have a ticket back home tomorrow, and I’ll leave.”

Ridiculous. Who would spend a fortune on a set of roundtrip tickets only to leave a day after? Of course, only Lee Donghyuck.

“Karina and I go way back,” he says. “We’ve known each other since we were kids. And she’s not someone I could just get rid of just because our relationship didn’t work out. We’re better off as friends, and that’s a fact we had come to learn when we tried dating. And it was painful, but I couldn’t lose her just because we didn’t know how to date, how to play boyfriend and girlfriend to each other. That’s the first thing I need you to understand.”

“Like I don’t know that already?” you remark sarcastically.

“Karina is a part of me.” Shit’s painful.

“But now like how you are a part of me.”

Oh.

“She’s my best friend, almost like a sister now, and my parents care about her,” he continues. “It was a mistake that we even tried to date just so we could relate to everyone dating everybody. It almost ruined us, and Karina and I, we can’t afford to lose each other just because of that. The person who I am now, part of it is because of Karina. But Y/N, the person I’m about to become, I want it to be because of you.”

He clears his throat again. You look at the bottle of water he finished drinking because you really can’t look at Donghyuck now. Not when he’s vulnerable and out in the open. Not when he’s exactly the way he was when you fell in love with him.

“And I had plans. For the long run,” he says like a promise. “I had started looking up how to get a tourist visa to Canada and how to get you a tourist visa to Korea. I’ve been saving all my allowances and the money I’ve been earning from work so I could book a ticket to Vancouver for the summer and spend it with you. And I was supposed to tell Mom, but I haven’t had the chance yet—that one I have no excuse for. But the timing was off and she met you before I could tell her. She had no idea and she’s genuinely sorry she made it seem like she wanted me to end up with Karina. If she had known I was already in love with someone else, she wouldn’t have said that in front of you. She would have loved you.”

Donghyuck pauses. You look up to see him wiping his tears from his cheeks. “And I’m sorry that the timing didn’t go well for us, but I promise you I had plans. I just didn’t want to spend the rest of your weeks in Seoul thinking about you being gone as soon as the semester is over. I wanted to seize the moments with you and make you—I wanted to make you feel that I love you.”

Your breath hitches. Donghyuck locks eyes with you.

“I love you. I love you and I’m so sorry that I made you feel like I didn’t,” he confesses, bursting into tears and you do, too. “I’m so sorry that I didn’t try hard enough to make you stay. I’m so sorry that I talked to fast that time I finally got you to answer my call; I should’ve explained more calmly. I’m so sorry that we’re here, in Vancouver, hearts broken. But I love you, and I wish I could say all of these in English if that’s what would make you believe it’s real and it’s true.”

But he doesn’t have to.

“I love you,” you say in your mother tongue before switching to Korean. “I love you. And I know you love me. And I’m so sorry for jumping to conclusions and not trying hard enough. Just like you, I had plans to. For the long run. And I can live without you, too, but I can’t live without you knowing how much I love you.”

Donghyuck giggles through his tears and reaches out both hands to wipe off yours. “Let’s not live without each other.”

It’s him to moves, standing a little, so he could kiss you.

The kiss says everything the language barrier can’t. I love you. I missed you. I’m sorry. This is everything I’ve ever wanted. You are everything I’ve ever wanted.

Donghyuck spends the night tracing your body with his mouth like he’s writing a love song and he needs to taste you first before he could write the first melody. You spend the night underneath Donghyuck’s love, whispering his name like praise, taking, taking, taking everything he’s giving you.

You wake up to arms around you and the love of your life kissing the back of your neck. You and him spend the entire day (or at least, the seven hours he had until he had to take the flight back home) talking about your plans and making a list of thing you have to talk about over the phone, but today, you’re taking him out on a date under the warm, sunny skies of Vancouver.

And you do. You and Donghyuck have the best day ever together. Donghyuck gives you the other pair of the touch lamp you’d given to him as a birthday present—you’d forgotten you left it when you ran off; you were supposed to watch him open it so you could show him how it works—and makes you promise to touch the lamp whenever you missed him. He thanks you for the mixtape and confesses he cries whenever he plays it inside his car. He also gives you your small notebook of learning languages back (because you had dramatically left it to Renjun before you boarded the plane), saying you’d need it again.

Mark refused to come because he wants you and Donghyuck to talk and spend the day creating a game plan to make your relationship work. At the end of the hours you had with him, you don’t come up with a solid game plan.

Because Giselle was right, after all, it all comes down to the choices you make. There was no formula on how a long-distance relationship would work. Neither you nor Donghyuck had survived one, but you knew one thing:

Today, you and Donghyuck choose each other.

It’s only the beginning, it seems.

The sun is out and bright when Donghyuck boards the plane.

It’s a lot warmer than the rest of the year, but you don’t really mind.

matchy-matchy with seventeen

a/n: me in my single era pt 2093520395 and here’s me projecting just a little bit yk. also i tried really hard to make these creative i hope it went well

seungcheol: jackets

✧ specifically varsity jackets or those racing jackets

✧ maybe not exactly the same, maybe it’s the same style of jacket but in different, but complementary colors

✧ absolutely loves knowing that it’s so easy to tell that the two of you are a couple when you walk together

✧ his lock screen is a mirror picture of the two of you :’)

jeonghan: hair accessories

✧ matching hair accessories oh myyy

✧ it could be in simple barrettes or clips with little cutesy designs

✧ or ribbons !!

✧ one day he sees you tie back half of your hair (like a semi-updo) and he just asks you, “can you do that to me too?”

✧ you two can be dainty together 🫶🏽

joshua: rings

✧ perhaps he’s a simple romantic

✧ rings can go with any outfit and he wants a reminder with you everywhere he goes

✧ loves seeing his ring on his finger in all of his daily activities

✧ also loves to hold your hand to look at the ring on your finger only to follow with a soft kiss to the back of your and too

jun: earrings

✧ maybe he’s a little more subtle with it

✧ but he finds earrings aa an easy way to be connected with you, knowing you have the same pair

✧ all that matters to him is that it’s something that the two of you know about - and maybe others if they’re paying attention

hoshi: tiger phone cases

✧ ofc you support his tiger agenda and one day he just surprises you with matching tiger print phone cases

✧ falls a little more in love with you when you don’t hesitate to swap your current case with it LOL

✧ loves taking mirror selfies where you can see your cases and as the two of you make the tiger claw hand gesture

✧ if you’re with literally anyone else together, he’ll just grab both of your phones to go “look!”

wonwoo: headphones

✧ thought of this because he games but headphones are also pretty necessary in general

✧ you each pick sticker packs and you place some stickers on your own pair

✧ then you swap headphones and fill up the rest of the negative space of each other’s :’)

woozi: pajamas

✧ he’s someone who’s also very lowkey methinks

✧ he doesn’t feel the need to flaunt his relationship too much, go out on his rest days either

✧ he likes the moments you have just between the two of you and pajamas are a cute way to still have that

✧ whether you’re cuddling on the couch or just walking around the house, his heart is content seeing your matching home outfits

seokmin: shoes

✧ just felt like this would be soooo cute with him

✧ it gives you both freedom with your outfits and individual styles but anyone looking at you two together would know that you’re dating

✧ he love love loves taking those pictures of your matching shoes

✧ maybe he even takes a short video for his story and you can tell he’s happy in it because he can’t stop his feet from doing a little dancey dance

mingyu: hoodies

✧ adores seeing the two of you matching so obviously in the reflection of windows, mirrors, etc. when the two of you are out

✧ takes so so many pictures of you two

✧ you definitely have more than one matching hoodie

✧ will fall in love with you more if matching couple clothes was your idea first LOL

minghao: nails

✧ i had to, i HAD TO, just imagine the two of you with the prettiest hands ever

✧ maybe he lets you pick a color first and then he’ll pick a second to complement it aaa

✧ and even if you aren’t too much of a nail person, maybe you just get one nail painted with a little image or design to match the color scheme of his

✧ also imagine the intimacy of painting each other’s nails and he’s holding your hand close to his face and blowing on your nails to dry them

seungkwan: bracelets

✧ the two of you make your matching bracelets at one of those shops meant for dates

✧ i just know he would try so hard !! to make yours so pretty

✧ his heart ACHES when you find these 2 bear charms to represent the two of you (so you can have a little bear of each other)

✧ “this one’s me and this one’s you, don’t you think?”

vernon: beanies

✧ he’s always giving you his beanies when it’s cold out anyway

✧ then on this day he’s shopping and he can’t pick between 2 options (they’re both the same 2 colors but in different combinations)

✧ vernon just gets both and lets you pick the one you like more

✧ he knows you’ll look good in either one :)

chan: crewneck/hoodie-sweatpants-set

✧ this is various things but here me out, he’s a dancer and he probably has a good amount of athleisure

✧ sometimes you visit him during his solo dance practices and he likes to try to convince you to dance with him

✧ one day you stopped by without the intention to dance and he just casually pulls out the set for you that coincidentally matched with his

✧ he’s so giddy when you change. so so many recordings of you dancing together (regardless of how coordinated the two of you actually are) and mirror selfies to capture your outfits

how seventeen react to being accidentally called the wrong name

requested by anon: "hello! i wanted to send this in since ur requests are open, so if it's okay what do u think svt's reactions would be if u call them by the wrong name? (it could be on an accident or part of some prank, up to you) hehe."

masterlist

seungcheol, hoshi, junhui, seungkwan

offended. heartbroken. cannot believe that you'd even Think of him as someone else. looks behind him when you call him another name, eyes going wide when he realizes that you'd accidentally called him the wrong name. sulks for hours, doesn't let you ask the question you'd originally wanted to ask when you'd called for him. needs to be consoled with kisses and pouty apologies and a promise that you'll wear a shirt with his name printed on it in neon pink. you're still only half sure that he was joking about getting it custom-made for you. 

jeonghan, joshua, wonwoo, minghao, chan

doesn't bat an eye. at least, that's what he leads you to think. doesn't react outwardly when you call him by another member's name and just smiles when you apologise. but then when it's his turn to speak he's calling you every name other than your own. calls you by your mom's name, your dad's name, the name of the pet fish you had when you were five that had died from overfeeding. even calls you his own name. does it with a completely straight face, and does it for literally an entire week. he's not letting go of your mishap that easily. 

woozi, mingyu, dokyeom, vernon

has a mini existential crisis. you call out to him "chan!! come look at this!!" so naturally and without batting an eye that he kind of just responds automatically, before reeling backwards and being like 'wait what????' blinks so adorably confusedly that once you realise what you've done, you're laughing into him and pinching his cheeks because he just looks so cute. literally thought that he was chan for all of three seconds and was like "am i not who i think i am?", and is just the cutest. 

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reaction tags: (under the cut)

@jeonginssa ,, @magicaltonaru ,, @weird-bookworm ,, @minhui896 ,, @turningcarat ,, @nakedgrapes ,, @bunnyiix ,, @slytherinshua ,, @haowrld ,, @belladaises ,, @iheartyujin ,, @summery-bat ,, @newgirlygirl ,, @moonlitskiiies ,, @interlude-z ,, @ejspencer14 ,, @cinnamoroxie ,, @wonranghaeee ,, @saythename-chess ,, @yonabutnotyuna ,, @youthoughtiwasfeelingyou ,, @crackedpumpkin ,, @wqnwoos ,, @butiluvu ,, @sunshinekyeom-sang ,, @ocyeanicc ,, @zozojella ,, @thesmellofcoffeeandrain ,, @kthstrawberryshortcake-main ,, @kawennote09 ,, @a-wandering-stay ,, @icyminghao ,, @nananacomeonnnn ,, @valenhui

quarantine chronicles 2

pairings: jaehyun, johnny, jungwoo, jaemin, mark x fem!reader

word count: 55.2k (i have nothing to say for myself)

genre: SMUT, (like…really smutty) mild humor, light fluff

summary: as the period of self-isolation extends, how do five roommates fare?

notes: hi hi! this is the second part to quarantine chronicles which i will not link bc then this won’t show up in the tags :( i hope you enjoy and p l e a s e leave feedback! there will be one part left after this! thank you to @gentledreaming​ and @xiaomoon​ for beta-reading this monster of a fic :’)

contents: sex with multiple partners in short timeframes, oral (male & female receiving), fingering, exhibitionism, bondage, sex toys, male anal play, creampie, unprotected sex at (most of the) times (wrap it before you tap it), choking (giving and receiving), dom!reader at times, somnophilia, two threesomes, sub/switch!mark at times, sub!jaehyun at times, sub!jaemin at times, temperature play, sensory deprivation, wall sex, shower sex, rimming, overstimulation, edging, nipple / breast play, degradation, praise kink, face sitting, light daddy kink (it’s, like, barely there), some spit play, light face slapping (let me know if i missed any warnings!)

Day 15

“Jaehyun,” You say loudly, curled up comfortably in your bed.

“What?” He yells back from his room after a beat of silence, and you clear your throat as you prepare to yell again.

“C’mere!” You call, waiting patiently until Jaehyun opens your door, leaning against your doorframe. “Hi,” You coo, and he grins at you.

“What’s up?” He asks, and you raise your arms, blinking up at him expectantly.

Keep reading

🤕💕

JOSHUA & MINGHAO BEAUTIFUL, FOLLOW IN SEOUL 2023

don't u just love it when the camera angle squishes joshua's face and he looks so cutie ittle baby

JOSHUA DARL+ING @ UNESCO Youth Forum

when you forget to save your work 😨

Mary Oliver, "The Fourth Sign of the Zodiac." Blue Horses

His Love in Her Force

Pairing: undercover detective!Jaehyun x ballerina!reader

Genre: fake marriage au, hate to love, action, drama, fluff, romance, small town au, slow burn, smut, suspense

Word Count: 28k (it's worth it if you like slow burn, promise)

Summary: Fleeing from a ruthless stalker, you are forced to participate in a witness protection program at the other side of the world, pretending to be the wife of a taciturn undercover detective from now on. Despite all differences, you slowly start to settle with your new life as a married couple - until your newfound happiness is stripped away from you all over again.

A/N: Loosely inspired by a friend's friend case that went viral where I live. Jaehyun goes by several names here (Jay Jung, Jung Jaehyun and Jeong Yuno).

Imagine leaving everything behind. 

Your home, your friends, your family.

Life as you knew it, vanished overnight, and you had to start anew at the other side of the world.

People easily let such a wish slip when their ordinary life got too exhausting. But what many truly meant was that they wanted to take a break from their daily routine and relax a few weeks under the tropical sun. 

They could always come back to the security and comfort of their stable home, and that was why only the minority was serious and courageous enough to actually go through with the plans of starting anew somewhere far away.

And then, there were people like you. The ones who didn’t have a choice.

“Mrs. Jung, please put up your table, we’re starting to descend,” the stewardess told you.

Mrs. Jung. That was your new name now. 

You had no relation to this surname that you had gotten assigned to only sixteen hours ago through a fake ID and passport at the airport. It sounded so foreign and disturbing to your ears. 

This “Mrs. Jung” wasn’t you, yet you had to slip into her role and pretend to have been someone else’s wife for a significant part of your life already. It was a role you didn’t deem yourself to be suitable for at all.

You were a young, single woman who lived her childhood dream of being a ballet dancer. After having attended different dance academies around Asia and Europe, you had settled with your first engagement, the Korea National Ballet, back in Seoul for the meantime where your family was residing.

A week ago, you had gotten the confirmation letter that you were accepted into the Dutch National Ballet after having studied there the year prior.

Your life was finally everything you had been working so hard towards since you were little.

And then, your future had gotten stripped away from you. Just like that.

“Mrs. Jung?” The stewardess passed by again. “The table.”

“Oh sorry,” you quickly apologized and put it up to properly lock it.

You then proceeded to stare out of the window, the plane having brought you to a continent you had never set foot on ever before. Narrow streets, tiny houses and small forests passed by you in a blur of earthly colors as the plane slowly angled downwards to start its final descent. 

You hated your new life already.

_____

“My duty here is finished,” the officer, who had been accompanying you all the way to the US, told you. “I’ll be taking the next flight back. But no worries, a driver is already waiting for you and will escort you to your new home. You must be relieved, you’re almost there now, Miss.”

“Relieved, detective?” you mocked and crossed your arms in front of your chest. “I’ll be exchanging the life of a successful ballerina for the one of a housewife, stuck in the nowhere on the other side of the world, because you couldn’t do your job right. What in the hell should I be relieved about, tell me?”

“Listen, Miss.” He lowered his voice as though there were other people besides you in this domestic charter flight. “Detective Jeong is one of our best people for this job here, I heard. So when it’s about life or death, there is no other place you’d rather be at the moment. He surely wants to be elsewhere as well, so that makes you two people that have to arrange themselves with this situation.”

“Jeong?” You raised a brow. “Isn’t his name Jung also?”

“Your fake name applies to the both of you of course. It’s a fine, but grave detail to his real one, also for easier spelling. Don’t ever use it in front of anyone though.”

You barely listened to him. “I don’t care. I don’t care about any of this.”

“I’m sorry this happened to you, really.” He sounded almost empathetic. Almost. 

“Don’t be, I know that deep inside, you aren’t. You think you did a good job, detective. If you wouldn’t have sat on your asses all day long and laid out all my collected evidences properly instead, I wouldn’t even be here on this stupid plane, in this stupid country!”

“I already told you there is nothing that we can do anymore, Miss. Stalking cases, where the suspect hasn’t done any harm yet, are always hard to handle since not everything can be considered solid evidence. That’s the thing with social media.” He was tired of leading this conversation, but you weren’t, because you knew you were right. “Besides… The judge hasn’t even passed the sentence yet.”

“But they’re close, and we all know what the sentence will be, otherwise I wouldn’t be here! And it’s only because my father pays such a huge amount of money that you’re willing to get me into this program and away from him.” Your heart was full of hostility, and you let him feel every single bit of it. “Otherwise I would possibly be dead by tomorrow.”

“Again, I’m sorry this happened to you, Miss.”

“Screw your half-assed apologies! I’ve lost my trust in the police a long time ago!” you yelled at him. “You’d rather want a woman dead than get a stalker behind bars!”

And, once again, replied with, “I’m sorry, Miss.”

You didn’t want to hear any more of this, so you remained quiet for the rest of the landing approach and just bid an annoyed farewell to the detective when you disembarked the aircraft. By the exit, after you had picked up your luggage, you were welcomed by the announced driver. 

“Hello, Mrs. Jung. I will accompany you to your new home,” he greeted you. “Welcome to Connecticut. Follow me please. Here, let me help you with your luggage.”

You tagged along with a distance of two steps until you got out of the airport and into his car. The ride distanced you from the airport and thus from the next city as well. While you were hoping to cross another town soon, no such thing happened.

“How far is it?” were the words you finally brought out after half an hour of driving. “It’s been quite a while and all I’m still seeing is… green.”

“Oh, it’s still an hour, Mrs. Jung.”

“An hour?” you squealed and sat straight up from the backseat. “Where are we driving to? Maine? This was Connecticut already, how far into the province are we going?”

“Where your persecutor won’t find you that easily, Mrs. Jung.”

You swore to god, if he called you “Mrs. Jung” again, in every sentence… But it was the first time someone used the word “persecutor”, and it kind of caught you off guard to have someone not talk down on your case.

You leaned back in your seat and closed your eyes to relax after such a long flight that also included a layover. It worked out a bit too well in the end though, sleep eventually engulfing you with the mundane sound of the car rolling over the road in the background.

You only woke up much later when the car had already come to a halt. At the outside, when you groggily opened your eyes, you saw two figures talking to each other in front of your side window. One of them was the driver who had brought you here, the other though, you could only make out the outlines of as he stood with his back turned to you, but it was definitely a much taller man.

“Couldn’t you have gotten someone else?” the unfamiliar man spoke. 

“Since when do detectives in your position get to choose the person they will protect?” the driver asked back.

“It’s just… that she’s…” He faltered.

“A young dancer at the peak of her career?”

“Don’t go there.”

At that moment, he turned around to you and your eyes met. You didn’t know who was more shocked to see the other. So that was him, your “husband”. How dare he speak about you like that! As though you were happy over this situation!

Your eyes were wide open now and you aggressively unbuckled your seatbelt. Opening the door, you stepped outside, getting greeted by the driver right away.

“You’re awake, Mrs. Jung! May I introduce you to your husband Jaehyun? Around here, for better pronunciation, he’s known as Jay.”

The unfamiliar man, obviously going by the name of Jaehyun/Jay, said nothing to you, not even during the entire time your eye contact didn’t break. You felt him clearly examining you from head to toe though, but not in the way a guy checked out someone he was interested in.

No, he was eyeing you from head to toe like he was inspecting a piece of leftover meal that he was unsure of whether to still eat after finding it in the very back of his fridge seven days after preparing. He was full of disgust, and his off-putting behavior was masking how ridiculously good he looked at the same time. 

In the end, he decided against the meal and shifted back to the driver. “She’s looking even gaudier than in the pictures.”

“Excuse me?!” You clenched your fists. “What do you mean?!”

But he ignored you. “She’s looking like a Christmas tree, drawing attention to her wherever she goes. So flamboyant.”

“This is called fashion! People in Seoul wear such outfits!” you retorted, upset that he was still treating you like you weren’t there and simultaneously insulting you. 

The driver just patted his shoulder. “I’ll get going.”

When he had driven away, you were left alone with Jaehyun or Jay - if that was even his real name, but you supposed it wasn’t, a fake name like yours and your both’s surname most likely as well. 

You stood there kind of awkwardly in the small driveway of the house you needed to call your new home from now on. Judging from the outside, admittedly, it looked like a cozy country style bungalow, spacious enough for two people and with no other houses in the immediate radius. 

You would have liked it very much for a short vacation if you wouldn’t have to share it with a stranger who apparently didn’t have the hots for you anyway.

“Let’s go inside,” he barked with suppressed anger, and you wondered why he was already behaving so hostile towards you. 

But at least, the feeling was mutual since he was a policeman as well. Starting from the day they had laughed at you when you called 911 shortly after the physical stalking had started, you had vowed to hate every single one of them.

When you stepped through the entry door, heaving the luggage up the stairs yourself, because Jaehyun was not gentleman enough to help you, you were positively surprised. 

The interior was bright and modernly furnished. There was a huge kitchen, open to the living room that looked equally comfortable and cozy with a soft couch. Additionally, there was an entire wall filled with books only at the opposite of the window facade by the entrance.

“The bathroom is over there.” Jaehyun stood next to you and pointed with his finger to one of the two doors behind the kitchen. “And that is the bedroom. No worries, it’s all yours, I’ll sleep on the couch.”

“You better do so,” you murmured and went straight to the bedroom, dragging your luggage behind you.

“You’re not allowed to go outside all alone. Either I accompany you or you ask for my permission and tell me exactly where you go and for how long.”

He spoke like a robot who had memorized an instruction, and who knew, perhaps he was even one. This already felt like jail. Whether you were here or at home, leaving either wouldn’t be safe for you. It didn’t make any difference except that you hated it here. And him.

Jaehyun cleared his throat. “I’ll prepare dinner.”

“I’m not hungry.”

You shut the door behind you and looked around in the room before you let yourself fall onto the huge bed and stared at the ceiling. Minutes later, you found yourself crying so hard like you had never cried before in your life. 

Your entire body shook, and you sobbed so loudly, you feared that Jaehyun might hear it. But you actually didn’t care. You would gladly let him know that he wasn’t the only one feeling miserable in this situation you two were in, even though you voiced it differently.

Missing your parents, grandparents, friends and everyone else dear to you, you now realized that you were all alone. You hadn’t been allowed to keep your phone in case you’d be tracked down and thus weren’t allowed to get in touch with anyone from your former life either in case someone accidentally revealed your whereabouts.

Another part of you mourned the end of your career that you had been working so hard towards and that hadn’t even really started yet. This same part hated your father for putting you into this program, but loved him at the same time to go through these lengths to ensure your protection. 

But the biggest part of you hated the man who had laid his eyes on you a year ago and vowed to never leave your side again in the most controversial ways. 

The man who had ruined your life. 

This was what he had wanted for you - cornered, shut off, frightened. When admiration turned into hatred, there was no space for happiness anymore. You had never felt more agonized. And lonely.

And with this feeling, after your sheets were all wet from too much crying, you slept in long after night had fallen.

____

The ringing doorbell woke you up, and judging by the misty light that flowed into the bedroom from the outside, it must not be past nine in the morning. You must have slept for over fourteen hours.

Opening your eyes in a slow manner, it took you a few moments to adjust to your surroundings. At first, you were happy to have woken up in your home again - until you realized it quite wasn’t and reality dawned on you, a dreadful feeling instantly weighing down on your heart that nearly caused you to bawl right there and then again. 

You grabbed a pillow and put it over your face to drown out the noise that was coming from the door. If anything, it was Jaehyun’s responsibility to open it as he was closer to the source, and you weren’t even sure whether you were allowed to let strangers in. 

But the string of constant noise just wouldn’t subside, and jet lag was hitting you hard.

“Goddammit!” you yelled in annoyance, jumped out of the bed and stormed into the living room.

But there was no sign of Jaehyun, the couch neatly made, so no one was even able to suspect that someone had slept on it the night before. You tiptoed to the window close by the entrance door to get a look at the person standing outside. 

It was an old, asian woman with gray hair. 

The moment she spotted you by the window, she quickly hurried over and excitedly signed you to open the door. In her hands, she presented a bag, dangling it in front of your vision. You neither had the time nor the patience to put up with her right now, but since she had spotted you already, there was no chance that you could still avoid her.

“Yes?”

You opened the door, not paying attention to your disheveled hair and the clothes from the day before. Whatever she wanted, you hoped that she would finish fast.

“My, my!” she called out in delight. “You must be Mrs. Jung, having arrived yesterday, right?”

You nodded, still not having adjusted to that name. At least you were fluent in English. “Yes, that’s me. May I help you?”

“I brought you a set of dumplings as a welcome gift. Here, take them. According to the villagers, they taste the best in my restaurant, Mrs. Jung. I’m sure they only say it because I’m running the only restaurant here, though.” She winked and then laughed as you took the package into your hands, slowly waking from your petrification. “Far away from your home country, I thought you needed something familiar, and food always manages to lift the mood, am I right? I must know, because when I immigrated here from Vietnam, I also felt lonely.”

This old woman’s surprising genuine gesture seemed so sweet to you though, you had to gulp big time to hold back your tears that were still present from before. Amidst a sea of turmoil, she radiated so much warmth and grandmotherly love, it made your chest tighten and soothed your pain at the same time, and you regretted your malign thoughts from earlier.

“Thank you so much,” you said wholeheartedly, softly.

“Grandmother Anh!” The two of you simultaneously spotted Jaehyun hurrying in your direction while crossing the front yard. “What are you doing here so early in the morning?”

“I wanted to drop by and bring you a set of dumplings as I remembered your wife must have arrived by now,” she explained and pointed at the bag in your hands. “Freshly made.”

“Thank you so much, grandmother Anh!” He wasn’t paying attention to you. “It wasn’t necessary for you to come all the way up there though!”

She waved aside. “A short trip up to here hasn’t hurt anyone yet, right?”

“You want to come inside for a cup of tea?” you offered her as you deemed it suitable for a situation like this despite not knowing whether you actually had tea. It earned you an angry gaze from Jaehyun though, and you wondered what you had done wrong.

“No worries, dear, I have work to go after now, and I’m sure you want to have some time to adjust yourself to your new living situation. Thank you for the invitation though. And don’t forget to step by my restaurant!”

When she was gone, you retreated to the inside, but as soon as the door closed behind you, Jaehyun threw a fit.

“What the hell were you thinking?” he yelled at you. “Oh, I know! You weren’t even thinking! Opening the door for someone you don’t know, even though you’re currently in a security program, are you nuts?!”

“Of course I’ve looked through the window before!” you shot back at him angrily. Stranger or husband, nobody was allowed to talk to you this way, and in contrast to the day prior, you had enough energy now to give him hell back. “If it was a suspicious looking man, I wouldn’t have let him in, but this was a nice grandma! My stalker is still in detention until the court decision, so he won’t come here so easily, and I doubt he has accomplices in the middle of the american nowhere when he’s just a simple korean man!”

“Listen up here, I’m trying to teach you a point,” Jaehyun pressed through gritted teeth, urging you to move backwards until your feet hit the baseboard and your back rested against the wall. “You know why you’re not allowed to use the phone or the internet? You log yourself into your social media account, congratulations, you just disclosed your location and he’ll appear here once he’s free. You call a friend while being connected to a local radio mast, congratulations, you’re now in danger again, because he’s hired a technician to track your steps. The same goes for people. One tells the other who they’ve seen here, words spread, someone knows someone who knows someone who knows him. Or one of them takes a picture, it lands on the internet, and things on the internet stay on the internet. It will then only be a matter of time until he comes across it. How do you know what he’s capable of? Because he’s ‘a simple korean man’? You’re smarter than this!” For the time he paused and inhaled deeply. “I’m here to prevent all this from happening, to prevent him from finding you, so you have to follow me. Since you’re not known by anyone yet, I have to run a background check, and we still have time to study our story so that they’re going to match. Until then, you’re gonna stay quiet and inside.”

“I didn’t ask you to be my protector!” you defended yourself, his closeness flustering you still. “No one from the police has ever helped me anyway, so stop acting like you care about my wellbeing!”

“Care about your wellbeing?” He revealed his pearl white teeth when he scoffed. “I don’t care about your wellbeing. It’s just that I want to get out of here as fast as possible and you’re just something that holds me back if I don’t take care of it. So you play by my rules or you go back now.”

“You-!” You swallowed the rest of the sentence.

With a slip to the side, you escaped from his fearful presence and crossed the living room in a hurry to lock yourself inside the bedroom again.

Only hours later, when hunger got the better of you, you dared to come out. The dumplings laid on the dining table where you had dropped them off earlier, and you couldn’t ignore the gurgling sounds your stomach was making anymore. 

Jaehyun was sitting on the couch, typing something into his laptop and minding his own business without looking up to you. You were grateful for his ignorance as neither of you wanted to back off from your argument earlier, so you took half of the dumplings and retreated back into the bedroom from where you didn’t come out for the rest of the day.

At night, you cried yourself to sleep again.

____

“Let’s go grocery shopping.”

You were very much surprised when Jaehyun offered to take you on a short trip to the supermarket two days later. Yesterday, you had only been living off leftover dumplings and hadn’t felt any appetite, even until now. This was your very first interaction since the argument.

“I don’t want to,” you blocked it off.

“It’s weird and actually more suspicious when everyone now knows that you’ve already arrived, but don’t show yourself. We have to blend in, that’s how it works here in the countryside. And I have already done a background check on everyone, they’re clean. Besides…” He hesitated. “You should start eating properly.”

You didn’t care about his reasoning as you didn’t want to go out at all. Staying inside, hiding and being left alone sounded like the proper activity according to your mood, but Jaehyun wouldn’t budge, so you had no other choice than to finally dress up and accompany him against your will.

You hadn’t seen anything from the village except for your own house so far, so you got a bit excited when you finally stepped out onto the streets. The sun was shining brightly that morning, and it was kind of comfortably warm already for early spring. 

When you did a 360 degree turn, you silently noted that the village was located on the slope of a hill, your house placed on the highest point and the other houses stretching a few hundred meters apart from each other along the main street and scattering into narrower ones. 

The view and the location were splendid, you had to give credit for that. You weren’t the kind of person to seek this kind of tranquility as you were more a fan of a buzzing city, but somehow, you didn’t find it so bad here. 

The houses were all so small and looked so cozy, embedded and blending in with nature, and the village overall was surrounded by trees and the greens of the connected grasslands that reached to the very top of the mountains.

“If we should come off as a couple, you have to stay by my side.”

You hadn’t noticed how Jaehyun had gone ahead already and quickly fell into his step. You were kind of grossed out by the idea that he would suddenly want to take your hand or do something else that young couples usually openly showed to prove their affection towards each other, so you kept your arms close to your body. But luckily, he didn’t seem to be fond of such a thing right now as well.

As you were walking down the street leading to the village center, Jaehyun told you, “I’ll be starting my work tomorrow. I’m a police officer here, so I’ll be gone for the majority of the day.”

“You work?”

“In contrast to you, I have to.”

“I see,” you noticed curtly. It wasn’t like you minded. No, you rejoiced even!

“But don’t get the wrong idea,” he reminded you as though he was reading your thoughts. “It doesn’t mean you can do what you want and go wherever you want.”

You rolled your eyes. “I understood the first time already.”

“Very well. We’re here,” he then declared when you stood in front of a store, not bigger than a 7/11.

“That’s it? That’s the grocery store?”

“Yeah. What did you expect anyway?”

Yeah, what exactly did you expect to discover in this small village? You sighed. “Let’s go inside.”

A high-pitched voice directly greeted you from the inside. “Mr. Jung! Is this your lovely wife? I can’t believe I finally get to see her! Welcome, Mrs. Jung!” A middle-aged man approached you from the counter, took both of your hands and shook them excitedly. “I’m Mr. Jones. Please help yourselves. You’ll find here everything that you need. My store might be small, but it’s rich in its ingredients.”

You felt Jaehyun’s stares in your back when you carefully greeted him back with a, “Nice to meet you, Mr. Jones” before you went back to his side like the obedient wife you were supposed to play.

Jaehyun was wandering through the small aisles and put one grocery after another into his shopping basket. From afar, he truly looked like a caring husband. But you knew better. 

“What do we want to cook for dinner?” he asked nonchalantly, almost kindly.

For the first time, his voice wasn’t filled with anger or tension that you would also find in your own tone whenever you opened your mouth to speak to each other. In front of the people, you had to conceal your negative feelings towards each other. 

“Hmm…” You looked through the shelves, Jaehyun tagging along. “I’m kind of craving fried rice.”

“I’d rather have steak.” He put the meat in the basket. 

Of course he’d get what he wanted. But you didn’t want to back down either and bought the ingredients for your own cravings.

“Mrs. Jung, please make sure to step by again,” Mr. Jones told you when he packed your groceries. “We always have fresh fruits, you’ll love them!”

You nodded, totally not in the mood for smalltalk with strangers.

Back at home, you waited until Jaehyun had finished preparing his steak before you cooked your own dish. You ate in silence, him on the couch, you in the bedroom, both of you then cleaning after yourselves in silence, too. 

And that slowly became your arranged routine. Silent and separate, yet still together physically.

____

You had spent the past days inside the house mostly, reading, watching TV and staring at the ceiling. At home, you barely had time for these trivial things as you were always practicing, even during your free time. But your free time now was endless, and simple leisure activities prevented you from falling back into this deep, black hole that engulfed you every night, luring out your tears.

You didn’t want to go out, you didn’t want to talk, you barely wanted to eat.

When you felt like this at home, you would just start dancing, but now, you didn’t even have that. Your life was dull after you had been ripped off your passion and your entire future. You didn’t know whether, if you’d ever return, you could catch up again.

At this point, you were asking yourself whether this life was actually worth living. But if you were to give up now, it only meant your stalker had succeeded. This was what he wanted, and you wouldn’t give him this.

As you were lying on the couch that evening again, staring into space, you heard Jaehyun coming home and immediately shot up to go back into your room. You wanted to spend as little time around him as possible.

But he didn’t let you go far. “Mr. Jones saw you in the driveway this morning as he drove by.”

“...And?”

“You know for sure that this isn’t allowed,” Jaehyun hissed sharply. “I prohibited it.”

“But why?” you genuinely wanted to know. “I was only catching some fresh air, nothing to fret about.”

He didn’t show any compassion. “If you want some fresh air, open a window, but, under no circumstances, are you allowed to leave the house when I’m not there. Think about what would have happened if it was someone else driving by, not Mr. Jones!”

“You’re totally nuts!” you yelled now. “And paranoid! That man doesn’t even know I’m here, so technically, I can roam around freely if I want to!”

“This is why I didn’t want you,” Jaehyun growled, his voice full of contempt. “The moment I saw you in the car, I knew what kind of person you would be. And I was proven right. You’re so reckless and neglecting in regard to your own life. On top of that, you’re so audacious as well, and I actually despise people like you. You didn’t even need this program, you’re only here because your father wanted to protect his little princess!”

You froze, and Jaehyun turned stiff in the same breath, your eye contact not breaking despite the interruption. Almost simultaneously, it became clear to you both what he had just said, and the extent of his hurtful words.

Jaehyun opened his lips, his eyes wide in shock. “I-”

The ringing doorbell broke through the distressing silence between the both of you and Jaehyun crossed the living room to hurry to the entrance door.

“Hello Mr. Jung!”

“Grandmother Anh, what a surprise!” he greeted her, still a bit overwhelmed, but trying to downplay the situation. “What brings you here?”

“I was wondering whether you and your wife already have plans for dinner and whether you are interested in joining me and a few other villagers at my restaurant this evening?” she asked politely, trying to get a glimpse of the inside. 

“My wife is doing fine, only still adjusting. There is just so much work to still go after inside the house, so we barely have time at the moment. I’m afraid we have to decline.”

“That’s unfortunate,” the old woman commented. “But I still hope that you can make time this evening and join the dinner. We would be really pleased!”

“I’m going to ask her, alright?”

“Actually I wanted to ask her pers-…”

“Grandmother Anh?” you popped up behind Jaehyun and interjected. “I would happily join the dinner along with my husband! Thank you so much for the invitation!”

“Oh dear, I’m so glad! Then I’ll be going to prepare something nice for you two then, alright? See you later!”

When she was gone, you didn’t resume the topic from earlier, but instead said, “She probably heard it. She probably heard everything and was anxious about what was going on in here. Perhaps, she even thought we were physically fighting, so I had to show myself to let her see that everything is okay.”

“You could have just politely declined,” Jaehyun interposed.

“That’s not the point,” you explained calmly, walking around in the living room and pulling the curtains together. “The whole point of us being here is that we will pretend to be a happy couple, not drawing any suspicion on us. Doing grocery shopping every few days together just doesn’t do it. Didn’t you yourself say that words spread fast here?”

He didn’t want to concede it, but Jaehyun’s following words were his own gesture of acknowledging your believability. “So, what do you suggest we should do?”

Perhaps, he also realized at that moment, that he was missing something that you had been contributing from the very beginning: the ability to not only think rationally, but also compassionately. 

And that sometimes, your reckless acts originated from this character trait of yours, being a person who relied mostly on emotions and urges. He opened his mouth to say something, but quickly closed it again.

“We’re going to show everyone how happy we are as a couple. That it was a usual lovers’ quarrel, that we don’t physically fight, and that you don’t keep me locked up or whatever. And since you’ll be there too, it’s safe. Satisfied?”

You weren’t fond of all that, of the thought of going out, meeting people and pretending you were living the happy life of a married couple. But you had no choice.

You didn’t admit this openly, but this was your only way to survive this hellhole and eventually return to your old life one day.

____

You were more anxious than excited to finally step out of the house again. When you stood in front of the restaurant later that evening, you barely brought yourself to crack a smile. How were you supposed to pretend to be happy when all you wanted was to cry?

“Stop.” Jaehyun held you back when you already wanted to enter through the front door. “Didn’t you forget something?”

You cursed inwardly, having hoped that he had forgotten about it. Why had you even mentioned such a thing as holding hands to prove the nature of your relationship? You would rather not, but you also saw that it was necessary to come off as a true couple and not two strangers who had just met. Even though the latter was true.

So you placed your hand in Jaehyun’s for the first time. It felt surprisingly warm and tender, and so different from the attitude he always showed you. How could someone so grouchy and cold have such tender and warm hands?

Jaehyun’s fingers enclosed around yours, and the unexpected feeling he caused you to experience currently didn’t have anything to do with the fear of getting touched by him. By far not. Not even something close to it.

You were so flustered that you barely noticed how he led you into the restaurant, right towards a large table on which a handful of people were already seated, and all their heads turned to you.

“Oh my, it’s the Jungs!”

You directly spotted grandmother Anh who approached you from behind the counter, taking your hands into hers and out of Jaehyun’s grip.

“Welcome! Dear, let me introduce you to the other villagers,” she addressed you. “Mr. Jones already told me that you two met, but these are…”

She proceeded to list four names that you forgot right after again, and you then took one of the two left free seats at the table along with Jaehyun while the old woman was bringing in one dish after another.

“Please help yourselves!” grandmother Anh then announced after she had sat down well. “Dig in!”

The entire table was filled with different dishes from the region, but also asian food. You felt your mouth watering after having lived off your humble cooking skills ever since your arrival.

“You see, this is a special restaurant,” grandmother Anh explained to you. “I’m not specialized on Asian or Western food. Basically, I can cook anything by order.”

“That’s true,” a middle aged woman next to you answered, Mr. Jones’ wife. “Mrs. Anh started off with an Asian restaurant, but since she’s running the only food place here, the requests started to pile up.”

You swallowed the last bite of delicious fried rice - your go to comfort food - before you responded, “No matter Asian or Western, your food is very delicious, grandmother Anh.”

“I’m so happy you like it, dear!” She smiled from ear to ear. “Hurry, eat up before all the others do!”

You nodded, and for the first time since you had gotten here, you didn’t only feel hunger, but also appetite as you reached for fried chicken, more fried rice, baked potatoes and steamed vegetables all at once. 

When you were training - which was usually all the time - you hadn’t had the pleasure to eat such delightful food as you had to follow a very strict diet to remain your figure. Just a few grams more would have gotten you kicked out of every academy. Of course you stole a secret bite of fast food and sweet treats here and there, but tonight was the first time you could actually eat without compunction.

“... And you left everything behind for your husband, even your job?” Mrs. Jones casually dropped when the dinner slowed down and everyone was finishing off. “That’s so courageous!”

Before you had come here, you had studied both of the roles that had been assigned to you very thoroughly. Jaehyun was the cop who had found a new job here, and you, his wife, had followed from Korea to settle with him in rural Connecticut. That was the part of the script that bothered you the most as this was something you would never ever consider doing in the first place. Giving up your dreams for a man - they wished!

“The things women do for the love of their life, hm?” you only brought yourself to say reluctantly, dripping with hidden sarcasm.

“My husband also made us both move from Vietnam to here,” grandmother Anh clinked herself into your conversation. “He was always dreaming so big, dreaming about living the American dream. I wasn’t fond of the idea, but I was even less fond of living a life without him. So I followed him.”

“Where is your husband now?” it blurted out of you, and you regretted it right at that moment already when her face fell. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to-”

“It’s alright, dear,” she brushed it off in understanding about your unawareness. “It’s been five years without him, and I still miss him dearly. With my experience, I can put myself in your shoes very well. You feel lonely and depressed very often, hm? A new country, new people, an entirely new environment, and a husband who’s not home for the majority of the day. It’s hard to adjust.”

Those feelings had nothing to do with Jaehyun, but with yourself only, so you confirmed them with a nod. 

“How about you join our female poker round every wednesday?” Mrs. Jones then proposed. “It’s grandmother Anh, the girl sitting over there named Rosie, and me.”

When the girl heard her name, she briefly raised her head and smiled at you.

“Poker?” you asked carefully. “I’ve never played poker before.”

“You’ll learn it in no time!” Rosie encouraged you. “I’m pretty sure we aren’t playing it accurately either, but we’re having lots of fun and drinking lots of wine. You’ll love it!”

Poker with two elderly women and a girl around your age that you had barely interacted with before didn’t sound like your usual pastime activity back there in Korea. But at least there would be alcoholic drinks, and it would help you avoid this dark hole for a little while, you assumed.

“I’m afraid my wife might not be able to join,” Jaehyun then cut you off at the moment you wanted to excitedly accept their invitation. The three women looked at him in the same confused manner as you. “She’s really busy with work around the house and chores.”

“I’m sure I’ll be done by wednesday, that’s how fast but thorough I always work,” you affirmed to the women, avoiding Jaehyun. “So I’ll join you for sure.”

Jaehyun opened his mouth again, but it perhaps dawned on him that when he objected now, he’d look more like a husband mistreating his wife. The fact that he was known as a police officer didn’t affect the situation positively. 

“Okay,” he then gave in. “I’ll let you ladies have fun.”

“Oh it’s going to be so fun!” Rosie exclaimed and clapped her hands together. 

You were really looking forward to something now as well, for the first time since you had gotten here.

____

“Go, yell at me,” you provoked Jaehyun when you walked through the front door of your house after the dinner.

But he didn’t. Instead, he hung up his jacket, totally muted, put his phone on the kitchen counter and walked straight into the bathroom, locking the door behind him. Whatever, if he didn’t want to talk about it, then you didn’t need to talk about it either.

With dragging steps, you then moved over to the kitchen yourself to get something to drink before your eyes fell onto Jaehyun’s phone.

Your front teeth sank into your bottom lip as you stretched out your hand in the direction of the device. You knew it was wrong, you knew what consequences it would all bring, yet you couldn’t hold back. The temptation was too strong.

Your fingers glided swiftly over Jaehyun’s display as you typed the name of your stalker into the search bar. And the first article that popped up was the one reporting about his release. 

Dated today. You knew it. You just knew it.

You cursed under your breath as you read through the comments that were almost all defaming him and the acquittal following everything he had done to you. When it had gotten public that a popular ballerina had been stalked, the media was quick to cover the story. Before, no one had cared about it. 

The majority of people having your back in the comment section were only a drop in the bucket. But it still was soothing somehow.

When you went back to the search results, you found an article about you retiring from the Korea National Ballet. It wasn’t a big one, but had still gotten covered by a local newspaper after your absence from the performances had been noticed, and they were quick to link your decision with your stalker not getting a sentence because the state of evidence was too insufficient. 

Your fingers trembled, because now, as soon as he picked up these news, he would start searching for you and carry out his threat that he had sent to your home through a letter a week before you had started your new life here,

I will come for you.

“You know for sure that this isn’t allowed,” Jaehyun scolded strictly next to you, and you flinched, nearly letting the phone drop before he snatched it out of your hands. “Didn’t I already tell you that with today’s technology, every time you go online, you leave traces? You want that? Having him here?”

“I didn’t log into any social media or anything,” you defended yourself. “I just… looked him up, and hundreds of other people pulled up that website also, so.”

“Even that is not-”

“He’s free,” you interrupted him, your breathing only coming in hitches as you realized what it meant for you. “As of today, he’s free again, and he’ll come for me. Like he wrote in that letter.”

You shut your eyes, ready to get yelled at, but Jaehyun didn’t say a word again. With the phone in his hand, he went into the bedroom - your room - and you followed him. You didn’t know what this meant. Had you gone too far tonight? 

“What are you doing?”

He jerked something out of the closet, and at second glance, you recognized the thing in his hands as your suitcase which he then threw at your feet.

“Go pack. You’re going home.”

You blinked in confusion. “What?”

“If you don’t give a damn about your life, you don’t deserve to stay here. So you should go home.”

He was so cold and indifferent about it, it made you shudder. And that stare of his. You hadn’t seen it before. This was serious.

When you had first come here, you would have rejoiced and would have willingly accepted a flight ticket back. But with this knowledge, the thought about setting a foot on Korea’s grounds with your stalker on the loose raised your hackles. Then, this entire nightmare would start all over.

Hesitantly, you brought yourself to admit that this was where you were the safest now. On the other side of the world, by the side of a detective. 

“Please…” you started.

“What am I supposed to say?” Jaehyun asked, overly annoyed, not breaking eye contact. “You defied my orders. Again. You think I didn’t know about this? I knew before you did, before the media did. It’s because of your reaction that I wasn’t supposed to say a word. Now look at what it has done to you! Will you ever get a good night’s sleep again?”

“I’m sorry!” You had never said that to him before, so this was a huge step for you. But you meant it. “I couldn’t resist. I had to know.”

“Of course you had to. You always have to meddle. Did something positive ever result from your meddlings? Perhaps, your meddlings have even brought this upon you!”

You stared at each other and Jaehyun’s face fell when it dawned on him what he had just said. Once again.

“You’re not better than any of them,” you hissed. “Yet, I’m not going anywhere.”

You picked up your suitcase and threw it back into the closet. When you turned around, Jaehyun had left your room already, so you quickly closed the door in case he would return and hid in the safety of your familiar four walls until the next morning. 

____

When wednesday finally came around, you were still feeling some sort of anticipation that Jaehyun’s hurtful words hadn’t been able to entirely tear down. You had only interacted with him when it was truly necessary since the day he wanted to kick you out, otherwise avoiding him at all costs. At least, he hadn’t prohibited you from going today.

“Remember to only share the most necessary things about us,” Jaehyun repeated again as you walked along the streets to grandmother Anh’s restaurant. “And not more. Don’t invent anything, just dodge the topic. If someone wants to take a picture, prohibit it. But luckily, people here aren’t so obsessed with social media.”

“It’s so easy for an emotional klutz like you to say such things,” you grumbled. “But it’s something entirely different when people put pressure on you, especially when you’re in such a small group.”

“Whatever,” he shrugged it off. “Just dodge everything you can dodge.”

You rolled your eyes. You hadn’t wanted him to come with you, but one of his conditions was to still accompany you everywhere once you stepped outside of the house, so you had no choice but to walk with him all the way there. 

“I’ll pick you up at ten, okay?” Jaehyun confirmed, and you nodded. “If something happens-”

“What should happen? We’re in the middle of nowhere and I’m just playing poker with the three less suspicious people on earth. Give it a rest already.”

“If something happens,” he continued unbothered, “or you start to feel uneasy… even if you only want me to pick you up no matter the reason, even if you’re only a few minutes away…” He reached his hand into his pocket. “Take this, just in case.”

He held up a black flip phone in front of you. One which you had only seen in action way back then in primary school, and which you deemed antique by now, because you were only able to send text messages and make calls with it. That kind of phone.

You took it into your hand and opened it up. The black and white display only showed one number when you pulled up the contacts list. You proceeded from the assumption that it was Jaehyun’s.

“It’s curbed, so you can only call me. Shortcut is one. The card has fifteen bucks on it, but I doubt you’ll spend it all unless we talk to each other for six hours straight. So don’t even think about calling someone you know from back home.”

Perhaps, a tiny part of him did care in the end. At least more than any policeman back there in Korea throughout the span of a year.

“Okay.” He cleared his throat. “See you later then. At ten.”

What you had wanted was an apology. But this was nearly just as good and his very own way of saying sorry, you saw that now.

Jaehyun turned his back to you and slowly walked back while you stored the phone away in your purse and entered the restaurant through the front door.

Not much later, you found yourself laughing among the other three women, having forgotten about your miserable situation for the evening as you hadn’t had so much fun in a long time already. 

Poker had faded into the background and you were getting to know about the other women more than playing cards. And while you were talking, you emptied one bottle of wine after another.

“So tell me,” Rosie urged, “how did you and Jay meet? It’s so rare having such a young couple deciding to live with us so secludedly!”

“We’ve met when we were both still in university,” you revealed, having studied this part of your new identities very carefully so that your stories would match. Yet, you couldn’t help but to spice it up a bit. “Through mutual friends. We couldn’t actually stand each other at first. I hated his guts, and he hated mine. But we slowly warmed up, and the rest is history.” 

“At first, I couldn’t quite read him as well,” Rosie admitted. “So I found his character very off-putting. But Jay is actually really warm-hearted and caring.”

No way she was talking about Jaehyun. You suppressed a laugh.

“That’s true!” Mrs. Jones nodded. “When he came into the hardware store earlier today, I was there too, talking to Mr. Alden. And he was searching every shelf high and low for an MP3 player. You know, one of these old things that you can only listen to music with which no one uses anymore. Mr. Alden didn’t have one of these of course, so he ordered it for him. He looked very stressed about it, but in a desperate and not angry way. More like a gift he needed promptly.”

An MP3 player? What would he need it for? In your world, your husband wasn’t capable of showing or even bearing feelings at all. Why was it then, that these people had a whole other picture of him?

“One time, at my father’s pharmacy,” Rosie added, “he asked what my father could recommend if someone suffered from a stomach ache. Apparently, his wife, so you, was in pain one night, and he wanted to be prepared for the next time this could occur. So, I would say you truly have a dedicated husband.”

You frowned. You had indeed suffered from a stomach ache one night, searching through the shelves and ending up making tea instead as you hadn’t found any medicine. That you had found it the next day, you had blamed it on your absent-mindedness.

“Mr. Jung surely has a warm heart despite his stoic demeanor. Otherwise he also wouldn’t have helped me when I had fallen on my back. That happened only last week. He carried me all the way to the doctor’s,” grandmother Anh continued.

There had truly been a day when Jaehyun had only come home much later than usual, and he was commonly very strict in keeping his routines. You hadn’t asked him about it though and had shrugged it off again. That was how indifferent you always were at home. Perhaps, you then realized, you should start doing exactly that: communicate. 

You couldn’t continue living with a person you openly despised and didn’t care about. Jaehyun had said a few awful things to you, but the phone in your purse and what people were telling about him were proof enough to you that he was, indeed, different from the cops you had encountered until now.

Most likely, he wasn’t so awful and you had only failed to see. Jaehyun had given you a few second chances. Now, it was your turn to give him one.

“Why the long face?” Rosie pulled you out of your thoughts. “Let’s celebrate the start of your new life here! Grandmother Anh, I’m going to open another bottle, alright? The night is still young, cheers!”

You heard it pop for the second time.

____

You woke up the next morning with a headache. You didn’t know how you had gotten home or when, but the last time you had gotten so drunk, it was in the academy in the Netherlands. These village people’s alcohol tolerance was really on a whole other level!

A glimpse at your phone told you that it was midday already, and you suddenly were sitting up straight in your bed. But since you had no business anywhere anyway, you fell back against the mattress.

You then slowly drifted off to sleep again when the doorbell interrupted your nap. That was the downside of living in such a small village. People just came over whenever they wanted.

“Have you just woken up?” Rosie asked you.

A bit embarrassed, you scratched your head. “Maybe…”

“It’s been a tough way home, hm?” she laughed. “Jay also didn’t quite know what to do with you.”

“To do… with me?” you repeated with widened eyes.

“Oh my!” Rosie covered her opened mouth with her hand and giggled. “You can’t remember a thing?”

You shook your head. “Nothing.”

“You were so drunk after our fourth bottle of wine, you slept in right there and then. Jay had to carry you in a piggy back out of the restaurant and all the way home up here, and you didn’t even bat an eye.” She chuckled again. “And then, you only cried, ‘I wanna go home, I wanna go home!’ while he constantly replied, ‘You’re gonna be home soon’. And you said again, ‘But not this home!’”

“Holy!” you gasped. “I really can’t remember!”

Everyone knew about the drunken truth, and Jaehyun had also certainly known that you didn’t mean this home when you had said you wanted to return. If the alcohol had gone to your head much more, you would have probably revealed your true identity by accident! You suddenly felt so defeated. You had put yourself in danger. Again.

“Make sure to reward him properly for all the convenience with a nice meal or otherwise, okay?” Rosie winked and handed a paper bag over to you. “And start out by giving him these painkillers for his back pain. My father doesn’t recommend using it on a daily basis. Perhaps, change your mattress to a less soft one as they probably stem from that.”

“But our mattress is not soft,” you commented naively and accepted the painkillers when it suddenly crossed your mind that he didn’t even sleep on the bed. “It’s probably only because he naps on the couch so often,” you briefly corrected yourself. “I’ll have an eye on it.”

After Rosie said goodbye to you, you closed the entry door behind you and directly went into the bedroom to prepare something before Jaehyun came home.

When he eventually walked through the front door a bit later that day, he didn’t say a thing about the night before, but calmly took off his jacket and went to sit on the couch without greeting you. 

Communicate. Your start. “Can you come to the bedroom real quick, please?”

Without a complaint, he arose again and followed you. When you opened the door, you presented a room to him with your clothes and other stuff all gone, the bedding freshly exchanged.

“This is your room from now on.”

Jaehyun blinked in irritation, and it was not the first time that you witnessed him turning so startled. You continued to take him aback. “I don’t understand…”

“I’m sorry,” you apologized to him quietly and bowed. “For having caused such havoc last night, being a burden to you again. When Rosie told me what happened because I can’t remember a thing, I realized that I put us both in danger again, now with my habit of drunkenly telling the truth. It wasn’t my indication to do so, and I will look after my alcohol consumption much better from now on. As I will do with everything else, of course. I will be obedient and follow the rules.”

He slowly turned around to you, his expression not quite distinctive enough for you to read. “Okay.”

“And because of your back pain, Rosie dropped by earlier with the painkillers. But I know it’s all because of me too. So, here, have the bedroom. It’ll be much better if you sleep on the bed as the mattress is not as soft. I’ll take the couch, I’ll be fine.”

You both stood there, quiet for a while. Until Jaehyun broke the silence himself. “There is a mattress.” 

“What?”

“Here.” He crouched down, put his hands in the compartment under the bed and pulled out a small mattress that had been kept there apparently. “It’s too small for me, but for you, it should be fine. Let me carry it to the living room for you, okay?”

You smiled and nodded. “Thank you. And thank you for the stomach medicine as well.”

He opened his mouth to return something, but seemed to get too flustered and closed his lips again. It was familiar to you.

“I’m sorry too.” You turned keen-eared. What had he just said? Jaehyun’s ear tips turned red as he looked to the side. “I- I didn’t mean it. You’re not… you know.”

He didn’t elaborate what he referred to. But he didn’t need to. You knew what he had exactly apologized for, and accepted it. All the things, little and big. About you being a princess, about you always meddling. And about you having brought this upon yourself.

Your husband wasn’t a man of many words, but he had silently accepted your apology too by starting to sleep in the bedroom that night and leaving the new mattress to you. 

You hadn’t been much of a great wife either, and you silently promised to him to be a better one from now on.

____

You were alone the next night, Jaehyun working overtime as one of his colleagues had spontaneously wanted to change shifts, so he had to take up on two in a row.

That was why, even by 1am, you still weren’t able to sleep. In your pajamas already though, you wandered up and down the living room, your thoughts swimming. You had kept the lights turned off as you went back to your mattress every now and then when you felt ready to finally fall asleep, only to fail once again.

You had gotten so used to having Jaehyun sleep in the room next to you that now that he was gone, you couldn’t fall asleep at all as you felt so defenseless. You were not paranoid about your stalker having gotten here, but with Jaehyun around, you had been able to fall asleep with more ease.

All by yourself though, you felt at your own fear’s mercy.

THUD

You froze on the spot. What in the hell was that?

You were currently facing the window, but the noise came from the other side of the closed door where the bedroom was located. Believing that your hearing might have fooled you, you held in your breath and listened closely.

Thud.

Again. This time, not that loudly, but it was clearly the same noise as before. You almost didn’t dare to make a move. It was in the middle of spring, the weather was warm and the moon was shining brightly. This was not the background noise of a thunderstorm.

Thud.

No, you hadn’t been fooled by your own hearing. There was definitely something going on in the bedroom that should not be going on, and Jaehyun was not here tonight! Restraining your breathing volume, you tiptoed to the kitchen area, hoping the parquet under your feet wouldn’t audibly give in.

THUD.

Louder. Your heart was racing, but you told yourself over and over again that you couldn’t afford losing your nerves now. Perhaps, it was an animal trying to get in, perhaps the wind pressing a branch against the glass, but perhaps also someone trying to break in. 

It couldn’t be him.

… right?

He was still in Seoul, you had obediently followed Jaehyun’s rules, you had left no traces. There was no possibility that he could be here.

… right?

The faults you had made hadn’t been that grave. You were now obediently following the rules.

… right?

As your gaze fell upon the kitchen counter, you reached for the phone Jaehyun had given to you and dialed the shortcut. The phone was shaking in your trembling fingers as the display lightened up and you saw it trying to connect to Jaehyun. 

But he didn’t pick up. You tried again and again. But he didn’t pick up even after the fifth attempt. You nearly wanted to cry. What was a police officer husband good for when he wouldn’t even come to rescue you? 

Whatever, you didn’t need him anyway. You were a strong, independent woman, you would take matters in your own hand. Literally. So you grabbed the pan that was lying on the stove and headed for the bedroom door. 

At this moment, you didn’t know what was louder. Your own heartbeat, your own breathing or the thudding that came from the bedroom. Perhaps, all at once, and the only thing that kept you going right now was the thought that you just didn’t want to die here, all alone, on the other side of the world, without having seen your friends and family again. 

BAM.

“Hey!”

You flinched the second you stretched out your hand to press down the door handle as the lights suddenly turned on, and a sharp scream escaped your lips as you were sure your life was flashing before your eyes. The pan fell onto your feet, missing your toes by a hairbreadth, as a pair of strong arms wrapped around you from behind.

Then, you realized that you were crying as you twisted and turned, trying to escape. “Let me go! Let me go!”

“It’s me!” a familiar voice then came through to you. “It’s Jaehyun! It’s me!”

His voice, his scent. This all suddenly embraced you as it dawned on you that indeed, it was him. You had just not known what it was like to be held by him which had startled you so much as you had never had any physical contact before.

In his arms, your chest was still heaving up and down heavily, but he held you closely and tightly, with no intention to let you go now as tears continued to stream down your face.

“It’s okay,” you then heard Jaehyun whisper, his voice close to your ear. “I’m here now.”

He only let you go after you had stopped trembling and crying out loudly, and only reluctantly with a deep sigh from your part. You didn’t know where that had exactly come from though.

As you then turned around to him, you clenched your fists and hammered against his chest. “You idiot! Where have you been?!” you yelled at him. “I’ve called you five times, but you didn’t pick up! What do you have a cell phone for!”

Jaehyun didn’t hinder you from letting out your anger. Only when your strength was slowly subsiding as exhaustion settled, he enclosed your fingers and explained to you calmly, “I’m sorry. I didn’t hear it ring as I was in the car with my colleagues, and when I got out, I was already here and saw that you have called five times.”

“I- I… I heard,” you stuttered, but you didn’t quite know how to explain your situation. What if he would think you had only imagined it and didn’t take you seriously? 

But Jaehyun did exactly that without you having to explain yourself. “My colleagues are currently searching the property high and low. I came here the moment I left the car.”

“I heard a thudding noise coming from the bedroom. As though… I don’t know. Someone was trying to get in. Through the window… I don’t know, there was definitely something!”

“Okay, let me check.”

You were hiding behind Jaehyun as he slowly pushed the door open and got in position. Then, he switched the lights on and you saw, as you peeked from behind him, exactly nothing. With slow steps, Jaehyun crossed the room and positioned himself in front of the closet. As he drew the door open, as expected again, you only found clothes inside of it.

“All clear inside here,” he then confirmed and approached the window to open it, calling outside, “What’s up out there?”

“All clear out here!” you heard someone yell in the distance.

“All clear in here as well!”

“You want us to stay put?” 

Hesitantly, Jaehyun turned around to you, and then back to the window. “It’s okay, for tonight, I got this. Thank you.”

“Alright.”

Your teeth sank into your bottom lip as you stood by the door and felt embarrassment crawling up your cheeks. “I’m sorry. I was so sure…”

“Don’t ever apologize for such things,” Jaehyun cut you off, and you faced him with insecure eyes. “You were scared, and your feelings are valid. Nothing else matters.”

The majority of people would have brushed it off. But Jaehyun had taken you seriously the moment he saw you all alone, so scared.

Only later that night, when you were ready for bed again, it sank into you that this was probably what the other women had talked about when the topic revolved around Jaehyun last week. Finally, even for only a short moment, he had shown you this part of him as well.

“Where is my mattress?” you then asked when you came out of the bathroom.

“In the bedroom,” Jaehyun deadpanned. “Come.”

You raised a brow, but willingly followed him to the bedroom where you found your mattress lying next to the bed. 

“Tonight, you can stay here. Just…” You heard him gulp. “... just… in case you feel unsafe and scared again.”

He made it sound like you had requested for it, which you surely hadn’t, and you both knew. It was Jaehyun’s manner of offering you some kind of security and solace, just because he wanted to, not because you had asked for it.

“Thank you.”

“And next time when I have the day off, I’m going to show you how to shoot with a gun.”

“... what?”

For the first time since you had come here, you didn’t cry yourself to sleep. You didn’t know whether it was because of the shock that was still lingering or because of someone else sleeping right next to you, even though not on the same bed.

“Jaehyun?”

“... Hm?”

You had your back turned to the side of the bed and were facing the wall from your small mattress, eyes wide open while listening to Jaehyun fiddling with the blanket just two feet away from you.

If you had faced him at this moment, you didn’t know if you would still have said what you were about to say.

“I take it back. You’re better than all of them combined.”

He knew what you meant, and despite his missing audible answer, you were sure he had gratefully acknowledged it.

When Jaehyun’s breathing rhythm became quieter and more regular, you could finally relax as well, a foreign nervousness falling off your shoulders and letting you drift off to sleep shortly after.

You felt so safe like never in your life before.

____

“What exactly happened with that man, if I may ask?” 

You were standing in the backyard, Jaehyun getting the gun prepared while you watched him.

“I thought you had all the background info about me before I got here already?” 

“Not the details. I only know about a guy who’s stalked a popular ballerina in Seoul. She dragged him to court, but the judge decided that the evidence was too insufficient and that he’d most likely get free. Since the ballerina claimed he had threatened her again, she was put in this program voluntarily.”

“I didn’t claim that he threatened me,” you disagreed. “He sent a letter. With a death threat. To my home. But the judge said it cannot be proven that it’s from him.”

“I only told you what I heard.”

Yet, he had still taken your fears from the night before seriously. You wondered whether, if Jaehyun had been responsible for your case back there in Seoul, you would still be here now.

“It started with a simple bouquet of roses after every performance shortly after I joined the Korea National Ballet a year ago,” you started. “I just returned from the Netherlands and it was my first engagement as a professional ballerina. At first, I found it flattering to already have such a dedicated fan. He’s a man in his early thirties, neat, groomed and very polite. Until he made his intentions clear and I rejected his advances. That’s when he stopped being polite.”

“That’s where it usually starts,” Jaehyun noted.

You nodded. “Admiration turned into obsession with bouquets that got even bigger and more pompous. With letters that claimed his unconditional love for me. With presents that I’m too embarrassed to talk about. Then, obsession turned into harassment. With phone calls from different numbers over one hundred times a day. With a date’s car tires all slashed. With fake online profiles of mine where manipulated nudes popped up. Back then, I still thought I could handle this all by myself. I’m a grown up woman. I’m responsible for myself.”

“When did it change?” Jaehyun questioned. “When did you report everything to the police?”

“When I started getting texts like ‘Better pull the curtains together when you sleep’ right after I went to bed and ‘Home sweet home’ with a picture of me entering my apartment building. I never disclosed my home address to anyone.”

Jaehyun was lost for words.

“And what did the police do? Nothing. Because they had too little conception of such things, they told me. The guy never signed his gifts, never showed up physically again as well. Presents, calls and letters aren’t a crime. And they didn’t take the phone calls as well as texts seriously enough to track the source as they claimed they wouldn't be able to do it.”

“I’m sorry.” Jaehyun released the gun’s safety catch, and you heard it in his voice that, in comparison to the detective from the plane, he was sincere about it. “There are detectives who care and detectives who don’t care. After all, we’re all normal people. But they were clearly people who didn't care enough.”

“I’m not alone with this situation. There was a case where the stalker waited under the girl’s bed. Another one waited in her roommate’s closet. Another one waited for her right on the streets. And they all ended up dead. I don’t want to join them. I’m only lucky to be here, because my father had the money to. These other girls weren't so lucky. But I want to be lucky and strong for all the girls who couldn’t be and can’t be in the future.”

“What do you mean?”

“I will come back home,” you responded determinedly. “I will come back home and get him imprisoned. This time, forever.”

“I haven’t encountered a woman like you until now,” Jaehyun concluded after some beats of silence passed by in which his gaze didn’t divert from yours.

You furrowed. “Like me?”

He nodded and held up the gun. “So fearless.”

You took it as a compliment and smiled. You hadn’t heard such kind words out of his mouth until now. But then again, this was the first proper conversation you two shared since you lived together.

“Here.” Jaehyun showed you how to properly hold the weapon. “Make sure this finger is here and this one here. Right now, it’s not locked anymore. If you pull the trigger…”

“... it will shoot.”

“Yes. Here, let me lock it again and then try releasing the safety catch yourself.”

You took the gun from his hand after he was done and placed it in your own palms. Positioning your fingers where Jaehyun had shown you, you weren’t able to get it right on the first attempt.

“Your index finger must be here.” Jaehyun touched it and moved it around. “And your thumb… right. Here. But a bit lower for a better grip.” He gently motioned this finger down as well. 

Where you had loathed his touches before, you still minded them. But oddly, not in the same, negative way. No, better say in a way that made you wish he would have his fingers placed on yours for a little bit longer and one that made you crave for more than these little touches.

“You wanna know how to aim at your target?”

Excitedly, you nodded and heard Jaehyun chuckle. For the first time, very genuinely. It was like last night had broken the ice between you two that should have melted weeks ago already.

“Hello? Someone home? It’s me, Rosie!”

“Quick.” Jaehyun took the gun from your hands and hid it behind his back.

“We’re outside!” you called out and saw Rosie turning around the corner a moment later. 

“Hey you two! What a beautiful sunday, right? I hope next week, the weather will be just as beautiful, because then… drum roll please… we’re going to hold our annual spring festival!” She lifted up her hand and presented a few colorful flyers to you. “Please come, okay? There will be boots, an animal competition and a stage for karaoke!”

Immediately, you were hooked. “Of course!” But then, it crossed your mind that you were only allowed to go outside with Jaehyun’s confirmation and instantly fell back into silence, unsure whether to face him.

“You two have fun together. I have volunteered to patrol that day, so I’ll be kind of there anyway.” 

Jaehyun had indeed given you indirect permission!

“Oh, it’s going to be so cool, trust me!” Rosie clapped her hands. “Okay, I’m going to inform the next house! I’m telling you, the people coming into the village center less than you are the Schmidts! See you next week at the latest, alright? And you, we’ll be seeing each other tomorrow at poker, okay?”

You hadn’t known that you were invited again, that you had gotten welcomed with open arms and accepted into this community. But it made you very happy, and you nodded.

“Of course. See you tomorrow.”

Later that day, Jaehyun placed a small object on the table that you hadn’t seen in quite a while. Since primary school, to be exact.

“This is for you.”

“What’s this?” you asked, even though the answer was quite clear. 

You were sleeping in the living room again, but somehow, since the night you had spent by Jaehyun’s side, you felt a bit more lonely than before. You weren’t crying yourself to sleep at all anymore, yet the feeling of loneliness still lingered. 

And it was not the kind of loneliness that made you long to hear a family member’s voice, it was more than that. This, you were sure of.

“An MP3 player,” Jaehyun announced and crinkled up his nose. “I figured, if you were to spend your time here with no connection to the outside world aside from the TV, you might as well spend it with your passion.” He placed a pair of earphones next to the device. “You can use it to listen to music only or to dance. Just as you please.”

You looked at Jaehyun, and saw it clearly now. With the person who had made you feel so unwelcome the day you had landed in this unfamiliar country, he had nothing in common anymore. 

This was not only a side of him, this was him. 

The man Mrs. Jones had talked about who had searched the shelves high and low for exactly this device. The man Rosie saw buying stomach medicine and the one who had helped grandmother Anh when she had fallen. 

This man had finally shown himself to you too in all his aspects.

You didn’t know what had made Jaehyun accept you for who you were to him, but somewhere along the way, he had settled with this arrangement.

And you were getting adjusted to your new life as well, you realized as your features softened. 

“Thank you.”

____

When the day of the festival finally came around, you stood with Rosie in front of grandmother Anh’s booth and tasted her dumplings together.

“My dear girls, you need to try these too! I experimented with another filling, so please give me feedback.”

The old woman shifted another plate in your direction, but you and Rosie waved aside in unison.

“Granny, we’re so stuffed already!” Rosie said. “And you don’t even want us to pay! Leave these for your actual paying guests.”

“Alright, alright! But I’ll make them for our next poker night! And then, you’ll tell me how they taste!”

“Okay!” you agreed. “We’re going to Mrs. Jones’ booth now, grandmother Anh. See you later!”

Linked with Rosie’s arm, you made your way through different booths, passing by people from neighboring villages as well as the stage, until you reached Mrs. Jones at the other side of the festival ground.

“Hello my favorite girls!” she greeted you cheerily. “Look what I have! A cotton candy machine! You can each have one for free!”

“Are you sure you can operate this?” Rosie skeptically raised a brow. “When people serve these, they look so professional, but you haven’t ever used one before, or am I wrong?”

“That’s not true!” the woman whined playfully. “Don’t be so rude, Rosalind Richards, or I’ll have a talk with your father!”

“Guess I’m not one of her favorite girls anymore!” Rosie whispered to you, and you chuckled while Mrs. Jones prepared the cotton candy for each of you.

In the end, the outcome wasn’t even that bad, she only needed to practice a bit more. With the cotton candies in each of your hands, you and Rosie walked over to watch the animal competition. 

People had brought their dogs and walked with them up the stage where they demonstrated different tricks. You and your friend were standing there for the entire time, eating your cotton candy and watching the dogs show off what they had practiced for. When the competition was over, you rode a few rounds on the small ferris wheel and visited the other booths, only finishing your tour when the sun was already setting.

Your last stop was a shooting gallery where you met Jaehyun overlooking the situation. He had been here since the morning, so you assumed he was off duty now as he wasn’t in his uniform anymore, standing at the sidelines, joking with another colleague. 

You had never seen him effortlessly interacting with other people in daily situations before, and for the first time, you perceived him as the normal man that he was outside of your fake marriage. Casually standing there, talking, laughing. A normal man whose dark hair was blowing in the wind, his sleeves rolled up, his arms folded in front of his chest.

A perfectly normal man who was also very attractive. 

As his head slowly moved to the side, your gazes met, and you gulped, somehow embarrassed that you had gotten caught, although it was only natural to look at your partner. 

Jaehyun was a man you could have easily felt attracted to if you had met under normal circumstances, not as your fake husband and your taciturn protector.

You had only failed to see clearly until this day.

“Oh look, it’s your husband Jay!” Rosie then finally noticed as well. “Let’s go over to them!”

A smile spread across Jaehyun’s face and he lifted his hand to wave at you. When you approached his group though, he got called over to the booth and took a rifle in his hand. Apparently, he had lined up to shoot.

“Oh let’s watch him!” Rosie urged.

“Jay is our best shooter,” one of his colleagues said proudly. “Look closely.”

He was leaning over the booth’s counter, his rolled up sleeves revealing his muscular arms and veiny hands. His entire body was tensed up, every single nerve concentrated on bringing down the targets. The air was almost static due to the tension as even other people stopped to watch.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

Before you could even process what had happened, Jaehyun had shot down all three targets at the first go, and the spectators were rejoicing. 

“Wow!” Rosie exclaimed. “What was that? I couldn’t even follow the happenings!”

Indeed! You watched Jaehyun giving back the rifle and having presented the prizes in the back of the booth which offered everything, from giant plushies, different toys to knick-knacks. Knowing Jaehyun, he would probably take a pass on that, so you were quite surprised when he chose something from the knick-knacks.

You couldn’t see what it exactly was, but as he shifted around to you, Jaehyun approached you with a keychain dangling between his fingers. It was a yellow elephant that wore a red tie. It looked hella ridiculous and childish - but not to you. 

Stretching out his hand, Jaehyun held it out to you, and you were stunned, not exactly knowing where to turn your attention to: the gift or Jaehyun who looked at you with a gaze you had never seen on him before.

As you didn’t move, you felt Rosie’s elbow poking into your back, pulling you back to reality. No, you shouldn’t behave like a dumbfounded twelve-year-old, this was officially your husband after all!

So you raised your hand and took the keychain between your fingers. It was a plush knick-knack that probably wasn’t valuable at all. But Jaehyun had chosen this one among everything he had been offered to give it to you. And you would treasure it dearly.

You smiled. “Thank you.”

“It’s late. Let’s go home?”

You nodded and said goodbye to Rosie before you followed Jaehyun across the festival ground. You had trouble keeping up with his steps among all these people, so Jaehyun did what every other good husband would do: he reached for your hand and kept it in his until you had left the premises.

That was only for the show in front of all these people, you kept telling yourself the entire time. You had to prove to them that you were a happily married couple, and such couples did things like these.

The keychain, which you had attached to your purse, dangled with each step you took as you raised your voice, “Jaehyun…”

“Hm?”

“Why are you here?” you wanted to know. “You know my story, but what about yours? Is this your department?”

You spent every day alongside this man, yet knew nothing about the true him. At first, you hadn’t cared either. But the more time you spent by his side, the more it irked you that he was still such an enigma.

You thought he’d stonewall, but he gave you a clear answer, “I’m the NYPD, as a matter of fact.”

“Oh, I see. New York, hm.” You nodded. “And… why are you here?” 

The way his fingers cramped up around yours made you freeze despite having to keep up with his pace while walking. You had hit a sensitive nerve, you immediately became aware of that.

“I’m sor-”

“You really want to know?” he asked back. 

“Yeah.” You shrugged. 

“I did something a good detective should have never done.”

And with this sentence, he wasn’t about to tell you more. He didn’t need to express this, you were able to read the atmosphere. But that only kept your thoughts spinning. What was something so terrible that a detective could do that got him transferred to another area of responsibility?

You didn’t believe that Jaehyun was a bad person. 

He was cold at times, but an entirely cold person wouldn’t have let you sleep on the bed while they were enduring back problems. He was grumpy at times, but an entirely grumpy person wouldn’t have warmed up to the point of letting a smile slip every now and then. He pretended not to care at times, but a person who entirely didn’t care wouldn’t make sure that the people around them would be well and healthy. 

He was crude at times, but an entirely crude person wouldn’t have held your hand until you were home.

____

“What are you doing?” Jaehyun asked you when he came home from work that day and found you sitting at the edge of the bathtub with the bathroom’s door wide open.

“Dyeing my hair.”

“Pink? Red?” he asked.

“Magenta. It was quite an adventure until I had the base, but I think I’m there now,” you explained while you stirred the color in the small bowl in your palm. A huge amount had already been put on your head.

“Isn’t it too…” He stopped.

“Too flamboyant?” You intentionally used the word he had described you with the first time you had met. “Probably. But, just in case someone will ever make a connection between me and the ballerina from Seoul, they will dismiss the thought immediately since my English is almost flawless and my hair doesn’t match the color.”

Jaehyun seemed to ponder about it, but then confirmed your way of thinking. “I think you’re right.”

“Besides…” You smiled mildly. “Ever since I was little, I was never allowed to alter my appearance. A ballerina has to look perfect where perfect means we all have to look the same. Same hair, same makeup, same figure. It’s kind of nice to try something new after all this time.”

“Okay.” Jaehyun held up a plastic bag. “Grandmother Anh gave me these dumplings when I dropped by her restaurant today. I’ll prepare them for dinner, okay?”

“Alright!”

“Hurry up, they’ll be done in a few.”

“Got it.”

You quickly finished dyeing your hair and wrapped it all up with a shower cap before you went to the dinner table where Jaehyun had not only prepared the dumplings, but also different side dishes such as rice and vegetables.

You hadn’t known that he was such a good cook, but thinking back, Jaehyun had always prepared more extravagant dishes in comparison to you who just threw rice and vegetables together.  In fact, you had never quite learned how to cook.

This was the first time that you and Jaehyun ate dinner together and the first time that he had cooked for you, too.

“You look ridiculous,” he commented while he scooped rice on each of your plates. But was this a chuckle that had accompanied his voice?

“It’s not quite done yet. Wait until it’s washed out and dried. I’ll be the only pink-haired ballerina walking on this earth!”

You threw your hands in the air, almost tipping over a bowl, but you didn’t mind. Somehow, this was a very good feeling - to finally make your own decisions for your own body, your own appearance. It was only a minor change, but to you, it felt like you could conquer the world. 

“Enjoy the meal!” you announced and then dug in. 

By the first bite you could tell that Jaehyun was not only a good cook, but an exceptionally good cook. This, you also told him, which turned him all flustered. He then asked about your day to which you answered that you had thought of finally picking up dancing again after much struggle.

“Why did you struggle?”

You lowered your head. “Because the last time I danced, it only brought me misery.”

You were at your last bite, but suddenly didn’t feel like finishing anymore. Before, you had felt something like easiness, even happiness almost for quite a constant while. Now, your thoughts got thrown back to your stalker who was roaming around in freedom.

“If it’s your passion, you shouldn’t lose sight of it. Because you don’t know whether you will still be able to enjoy it whenever you want in your future.”

You didn’t know what he meant with that, but he wasn’t keen on explaining either as he gathered your plates and brought them over to the sink the moment after.

It was the first evening in a long while that you peacefully enjoyed without a burdened heart. You wouldn’t mind this becoming your routine.

Later that evening, when you had washed out the dye and dried your hair, you hid in the backyard of your house where no one could see you with earplugs in and the MP3 player attached to your body, picking up some ballet moves again.

Sheltered from the whole outside world, you tried to let the fact sink in that you were safe here and that no one would come to make your life miserable after a performance. Here, you could actually be at peace again.

And then, you danced until it turned dark.

When you returned to the inside, Jaehyun had accidentally fallen asleep on the couch with a book on his chest. On tip-toes, you sneaked up to him and wanted to take the book out of his hand to put a blanket over him when something suddenly urged you to halt.

The first two buttons of his white shirt were open, and right there, between the first and second one, you spotted a scar.

Of course. A detective always went hand-in-hand with danger. He was your husband, you saw him every day, yet this was the first time that you noticed this visible mark on his chest. How many more dangers had he encountered so far? How many more bullets had he caught during his young career? You knew nothing about it.

You stretched out your hand, determined to touch the spot, but snapped out of your trance-like state just before you laid your fingers on him. In your head, you scolded yourself. What in the hell were you thinking, behaving like such a creep?

You tried to calm yourself down when suddenly, Jaehyun’s hand snatched forward and wrapped around your wrist before you could even blink. You got bent forward over the backrest with his other arm then enclosed around your neck, his eyes full with surprise as he brought your face close to his.

“You’re so beautiful.” Barely a whisper from him.

You stared at each other for a moment in near disbelief, and you didn’t know where the ground and where the ceiling was anymore as everything around you seemed to rotate. Your whole body felt so hot as though you were suffering from a fever, but your heart beating out of its usual rhythm told you that the reason for your body reacting this way was nowhere near something rational things could explain.

A part of you wanted to break free, another part wanted to look into his soft eyes just a bit longer.

“It’s you!” With a sigh of relief, Jaehyun let go of you and fell back down on the couch. “I wasn’t able to recognize you at first because of your new hair! I thought it was a thief or something!”

“Ha.” You couldn’t even explain the sounds coming out of your mouth anymore, and thus decided to remain quiet about it. “I’ll go take a shower.”

“Okay. I’ll go to bed then. Good night.”

When the door fell close behind you, you leaned against the bathroom’s tiles, trying to calm yourself down once again. But even when you placed your palms on your cheeks a few minutes later, you were still hot all over.

Staring at your face in the mirror over the sink, you gritted your teeth, having tried to fight against this feeling for so long. But looking at your reflection, you came to the realization that this was the expression of someone who had lost this fight a long time ago.

You had never wanted this to happen, because you wanted a way out of this fake marriage someday. 

Now, it seemed like the exit door was blocked by your own feelings.

____

“Can I tell you something?” Rosie asked you the next time you gathered to play poker. “Because you’re my friend now, I want to be honest with you.”

Mrs. Jones was currently giving out the cards, and while you collected them, you nodded. “Go ahead. Is it my hair? You’ve been staring at it forever. I like it though.”

“I love the color, but it obviously looks like you did it yourself. Why didn’t you call me? I could have helped!”

“I’m sorry, it was an urge, I’m very impulsive. So, what is it then?”

“To be honest, in the beginning, you and Jay didn’t quite radiate the happiness of newlyweds to me. You were so distant and cold towards each other,” Rosie laid out her first impression. “I thought it was because of the cultural difference. I know from grandmother Anh that in Asia, public display of affection is not very common and you both immigrated from there. But it was like…” She halted. “Like you were strangers. Not familiar with each other at all. As though you had just met.”

You didn’t know how to properly react to this revelation, and Rosie wanted to apologize right away before grandmother Anh stepped in to support her, “I second that. You tried so hard to conceal it and pretended to be a happy couple, but my old eyes can see beyond that. When he bought the music player for you though… I knew that something had entirely changed between you two.”

Between you two?

You had only assumed that for you things had changed since the day of the festival. When he had looked a little too good that day. When he had smiled a little too genuine. When he had held your hand a little too long.

But never for him either.

“Everything has changed,” grandmother Anh continued. “You look so in love, just like when my late husband was courting me back then.”

You pressed your lips together to a fine line and you tried so hard not to blush, but to no avail as you looked into everyone’s eyes and encountered a smug grin from each side. 

No, you were wrong. The day of the festival was the day you had assumed first, admitting it to yourself the day you had picked up ballet again. But something had changed for you before all that. Slowly, continuously. And it was still in process.

“See?” Rosie teased. “This is how Jay looked as well when I told him exactly the same!”

“Quit joking,” you replied briefly, but your voice only came out as a whisper while the hotness wandered further to the very tips of your ears. “You’re giving out cards now or what?”

“Let me tell you something!” Mrs. Jones now meddled too, not wanting to be left out. “After so many years of marriage, I haven’t seen my husband getting so stressed about buying a gift for me, not even on my birthday!”

But you hadn’t even talked to each other regularly back then when Jaehyun was looking for the MP3 player for you. 

It just didn’t make sense to you.

Or were you just in denial because it couldn’t actually be possible? After everything that had happened between you two, Jaehyun had grown fond of you from the very beginning already, even before you? 

“Oh dear, why are you making such a face?” Grandmother Anh sounded worried as your hands still laid on the table, not touching the cards you had been given while everyone else had already picked up theirs. “Are you not feeling well?”

You were certainly not feeling well. Your stomach had turned upside down, and you suddenly felt like you couldn’t breathe, on the verge of a collapse. While it had become so obvious to everyone around you, you had been left in the dark this entire time.

“I need to get fresh air.”

You arose, pushing the chair under you away with your legs and hurried to the entrance door before you thought you were going to run out of air entirely now. But even the outside didn’t make a difference, and you were supporting your arms against the wall while breathing in and out heavily.

After a while, you heard the entrance door open and close again, and judging by the shoes that you could see from your position, Rosie had followed you to the outside. 

“I called Jaehyun to pick you up.”

“What?!” Your eyes widened and you felt your stomach turn. In your hot ears, you heard it ringing while simultaneously, your loud heartbeats tried to steal the show. “I’m all fine!”

“Yeah,” she chuckled. “But I thought you’d rather want to be with your husband today than with us, and this is a good excuse to leave the round. Just pretend to be a little dizzy.”

“Rosie!” you called her out while the next moment, you heard fast footsteps approaching in your direction. “I’m not coming to your birthday barbecue anymore next week!”

“I know you’re lying.” She winked.

“Are you okay?!” Jaehyun came to a halt in front of you, totally out of breath and beads of sweat visible on his forehead. He only needed a brief moment to take a breather before he faced you, his features drawn with apprehension, his eyes mirroring pure concern. 

The next moment, his palms were on your cheeks, and he gasped, feeling your heat burning against his skin.

“You’re all glowing and hot!” Jaehyun stated in shock. “Do you have a fever?”

“I-I’m… I’m all fine!” you tried to brush it off, but his hands cupping your face possibly made it only worse as you felt like melting from within.

“Jay, you need to take her home, okay?” Rosie persuaded him. “The gathering is over. Have a good night!”

With these words, she turned around and closed the door behind her, leaving you alone with Jaehyun. Despite having been alone with him so often already, with all this new knowledge, everything was different now.

You were jittery and all nervous around him, having problems looking into his eyes, and he noticed of course - but for all the wrong reasons.

“Come, we’re going home! You’re sleeping in the bed tonight, no questions asked. I’ll get a few more blankets so you’ll have it all warm in case you’re catching a fever. Tomorrow, you’ll be doing fine again, no worry. It’s probably the change in weather since it’s been unusually hot these past days for spring.”

You hadn’t ever seen him so talkative and openly expressing worry, and it somehow took you by surprise. Goosebumps raised all over your arm as Jaehyun’s hand slid down your side and his fingers intertwined with yours.

There were no other people aside from you out here at this hour, there was no need to pretend being a couple - yet, he held your hand as you walked all the way up to your house in silence.

It didn’t feel real to you.

But the night sky was your witness.

____

A few days later, long after nighttime had fallen, you were lying on your mattress, still wide awake like the nights before. 

You hadn’t noticed until now, but your life wasn’t so dull anymore. You weren’t on the verge of depression anymore in contrast to the first month in your new home. You had made new friends, had picked up your passion for ballet again, trained during daytime, and spent the evenings with Jaehyun, cooking, eating and then watching a movie or taking a stroll on the hill behind your house together. 

It was an entire different life from the one you had lived back at home in Seoul, but nothing you enjoyed less. No, which you enjoyed even more, if you said so yourself. 

A warm feeling embraced you every time the clock approached the hour your husband would return home, and even though you saw each other every day, it was like seeing him for the first time, your heart almost jumping out of your chest whenever he walked through the door, greeting you with a smile.

You were able to clearly name that feeling now that made you so excited, you were barely able to sleep at night while Jaehyun was lying in the room next to you, sleeping peacefully.

Or… could he not either?

There were noises coming from the bedroom. You sat straight up on your mattress, feeling a rush of hotness wash over you with your heart beating out of its usual rhythm. Flipping the blanket over, your naked feet touched the wooden floor, but you didn’t bother slipping into your shoes.

You tiptoed to the bedroom to make sure that your ears hadn’t misled you, but you swore you could hear him walking up and down in there as well. With a trembling hand, you placed your fingers on the handle, but before you could even think about how in the hell you could explain what you were doing in front of Jaehyun’s bedroom in the middle of the night, only dressed in your light pajamas, the door suddenly opened from the other side.

Jaehyun was just as shocked to see you as you were shocked to see him. You wanted to stutter something about sleepwalking, but as you made eye contact, you realized that he wasn’t expecting an explanation from you.

He wasn’t expecting anything as he closed the last remaining gap between you two, his hands cupping your face again, this time to pull you against his chest. 

And as his lips met yours, you now were assured that he had lied awake every night like you as well. 

____

With hasty movements, Jaehyun unbuttoned your pajama top all while not letting his lips slip from yours, his fingers rather fumbling, but knowing exactly and precisely what they were doing and the carelessness most likely stemming from pent-up anticipation, because he was finally getting what he had wanted all along:

You.

You felt him smiling into the next kiss that came rather sloppy in his hurry as your shirt glided from your shoulders, the palpable traces along your skin getting replaced by Jaehyun’s fingers that drew down the same path in a feathery-light manner. 

He was holding himself back until it almost hurt, you felt it as his fingers’ grips were first tight, then froze and softened lastly. But you didn’t want him to hold back. You had both been holding back for way too long already.

Both of your hands slung around Jaehyun’s neck as you deepened the kiss until it almost became hard for you to breathe, that was how wildly and hungrily you were craving for each other. With a little jump, you also hooked your legs around his waist, feeling him supporting you instinctively from the bottom with a strong grip.

You moved from the door frame to the bed where Jaehyun seated himself down and placed you on his lap, but you had no intention of moving away as your fingers vanished under his shirt and pulled it over his head in one swift motion.

But Jaehyun’s lips didn’t find their way back to your mouth. Instead, they traveled down the side of your neck, eliciting a moan from you in the process, and stopped by the raising of your breasts. You threw your head back, your nails digging into the flesh of his shoulders, leaving red marks as he took your nipple between his lips.

Sucking sounds mixed with the audible rhythm of your heavy breathing, thwarted by suppressed squeals whenever he bit into it, pulling it between his teeth and teasing you until you couldn’t take it anymore. So Jaehyun then wrapped his arms around you and flipped you both around.

“You have no idea for how long I’ve been holding back,” he told you with an expression on his face that you had never encountered before as he was hovering over you. 

Lust, desire, and so much… passion. 

Yes, you for sure had had no idea. But you luckily did now. 

Strands of your red hair had gotten disheveled, partially disturbing your view, and he brushed them off, smiling. For a short while, you shared a moment of loving understanding, and your heart thumbed so fast against your chest, you were scared he was going to hear it.

There was a distinct feeling growing inside of you that didn’t want to admit. That you couldn’t confess, not even to yourself. Because you knew, this was only temporary.

“Then show me,” you challenged him.

“Very well.”

His grin widened, revealing his teeth even in the semi-darkness when his mouth came back down on yours, his hands roaming across almost every single inch of your body as though he wanted to keep a map of your body in his mind. As though he shared the exact same thought with you:

That this was not permanent, struggling with holding himself back to prolong the experience and going through with the act as fast as possible because he had been looking forward to it for so long already.

Jaehyun’s lips left yours, passing by your neck and tracing down to your stomach where he placed butterfly kisses around your navel, and you shuddered from the soft touches that you had been missing out on for a very long time already.

Your hands disappeared in the thickness of his hair as his lips further approached your nether regions, and you gave him credit for still being so patient when release was so close as it made you almost go crazy in contrast.

Tender warmth covered your core, the fabric of your pajama bottoms being the only barrier between the two of you, and you craved for nothing more than to feel his tongue inside you right now, feel how it dipped into your wetness, his mouth doing the same as he had done to your breasts before.

But Jaehyun’s patience had reached its limit. There was nothing left of it anymore.

After several moments of internal conflict, Jaehyun decided to not withhold anymore and to go for it instead. At the end, he had the entire night, and he would make use of every single second he had left.

The mattress gave in under you when he hooked his fingers into the waistband of your pajama bottoms after he had removed his own boxers, the feeling of his weight then carefully pressing back down on you, now the both of you entirely naked. It felt so surreal to you as you locked your gazes, and you needed a moment to process this situation, to let the fact sink in that this was indeed real.

Then, as though he had just done the same, Jaehyun eased between your thighs and started to enter you. The night was still so long, but it felt like he didn’t want to lose any time, and neither did you. You hadn’t noticed how wet you had gotten throughout the foreplay which had made his entrance so easy, almost imperceptible.

Your pupils rolled to the ceiling as he adjusted and you finally felt him inside you fully. You couldn’t quite remember the last man you had been intimate with, even though it had happened only shortly before moving here, but somehow, Jaehyun had clouded your memories of every other man in your life who wasn’t him at this point.

As a matter of fact, on the contrary, you now knew that you had never desired another man this much. Every fiber of your body was longing for him so badly that despite him being right here, it ached so much not to have him even closer. And that wasn’t even physically possible.

“What’s wrong?” Jaehyun asked suddenly, having noticed your conflicted expression and coming to a halt.

You shook your head. No, nothing was wrong. Everything was perfect, it was almost unbelievable.

“I-... I…” You were so overwhelmed by your feelings, the words nearly slipped carelessly out of your mouth. Luckily, for you though, you were able to swallow all of them. Instead, you said, “I’m just so happy.”

The corners of Jaehyun’s lips tilted up, and he took this moment of sweetness to tenderly peck your lips and confess, “Me too. I’m happy too.”

Soft moans fell from your lips as he started moving inside of you again. His motions were deliberate and powerful, and you enjoyed every single thrust of his. Jaehyun was so excited, but put you first still, and you appreciated that.

There were times, his thrusts seemed insatiable as he rammed into you nearly in a trance, seeking for his release, but despite you enjoying these rough phases very much as well, he always calmed down and feeded you with slow, sensual pushes that put you on the verge of being delighted and desperately wanting more.

His lips were wet and warm against your lips when his hips got a rest on top of yours, and you were quick to hook your ankles around his waist when he picked up his pace for the nth time, but this time being the last that would finally bring the long awaited release, you both knew at that moment.

Jaehyun’s chest glistened with a paper thin layer of sweat, and your eyes wandered along his neck to his face where you watched him in awe changing his features to a more tensed one, working towards your orgasms. Your fingers slithered up his arms that were propped up to the left and right of yours, and you held tightly onto him, breaking your eye contact to not let his hard work go to waste and concentrate on yourself.

You bit into his arm as you came, and he let out a groan, whether it was because of your bite or because of him reaching his own heights as he released into the sheets next to you, you didn’t know. But at that moment, as you slipped out of this world for a few seconds, you wished that you could have this for the rest of your life.

Especially for - no, because of - what followed after.

Your grumpy and always stoic husband rolled onto the space next to you to take a rest, a smile spreading across his face that just wouldn’t vanish anymore as he turned his head aside and looked at you. And you genuinely felt the same. 

Instinctively, you moved over to him, and he stretched out his arms to pull you onto his chest where you laid yourself down. You didn’t say anything for a long time until you felt him pressing his lips on your forehead.

Now, you truly felt like you had arrived at home.

There, it was so warm, and so comfortable that you wanted to stay forever.

____

Rosie’s birthday barbecue took place the next day where the festival had been held weeks prior. If anything, you knew by now that her father, the pharmacist and major apparently, technically built this village. Aside from the pharmacy, he owned several other stores here.

Unfortunately, you had come all by yourself. 

Jaehyun had left early in the morning already, rudely awakened by a call from his supervisor, so you weren’t able to fully concentrate on celebrating Rosie’s big day right now as you wished, but for reasons that couldn’t wipe that grin from your face.

Your thoughts revolved around Jaehyun as well as around what had happened the night before - several times in different positions as though he had feared he was running out of time to do all this to you.

This morning, you had woken up with your limbs entangled and strands of your hair in his face, but he hadn’t complained. Instead, after getting the call, he had pulled you closer to him, lying in bed with you a few minutes more and even kissing you goodbye when he had walked out of the door.

You flushed when you recalled the memories.

“My, my! What’s that?” Rosie called you out as she took the seat next to you. “What’re you blushing for? Long night with your husband?”

“Rosie!” you called out indignantly, totally shocked, but she only laughed.

“Come on, nobody heard! Lucky you!”

You shook your head and shifted a small box in your friend’s direction. “Open it.”

“What are you doing?” Rosie feigned upset. “I told you to not get me anything!”

“Well, the gift shopping area in this village is very limited, but I didn’t want to come empty-handed.”

You could tell Rosie was very excited as her fingers fiddled with the ribbon that held the gift wrap together. As she untied it, a small, flat box was revealed.

“It’s not much, but where I come from, these are very trendy now, and I’m more of a personal gift giver than buying something random. My husband had to order them from the internet, but the rest was made by me. I hope you like it.”

Rosie stilled her motions. “Did you just say ‘my husband’?”

Did you? You gasped nearly inaudibly. You had never referred to him like this before, and truth to be told, you hadn’t even intended to do so now. It had just slipped somehow.

Your friend giggled. “Your husband always refers to you as ‘my wife’, and I found it odd that you hadn’t until now. Perhaps, it took you longer to get used to it, right?”

“...Right.” You kneaded your fingers in uncertainty.

“Are you kidding?!” Rosie then squealed as she opened her gift fully and pulled out a pearl bracelet. “It’s so cute!”

It was made of freshwater pearls in different colors that you had beaded yourself with all the colors Rosie liked the best. You had never seen her wearing jewelry, so she apparently didn’t want to bother taking them on and off.

“It’s an elastic band, so you don’t have to close and open it every morning. You can wear it all the time or take it off and put it on easily.”

Rosie pulled it over her hand and held her wrist against the sunlight. “Such pretty colors! Thank you so much! I will cherish this all my life! It’s a token of our friendship!”

She cuddled you a little bit too tight for your liking, but you didn’t mind. You hadn’t seen such an openly pure reaction to your gifts ever when you had given presents to your friends or family all along. And they had been more expensive and impressive than what you had given to Rosie.

Here, life was much easier. People seemed to be content and satisfied with the little things life had to offer, that was why they had chosen to stay in the countryside. You admired this mindset as people in the big city always thrived to achieve more and to be better than everyone else. 

You wanted to be more like Rosie and the villagers.

“Okay, let’s eat now! The meat is ready!”

You really wanted to enjoy the barbecue, and more often than not, you earnestly did. But watching Mr. and Mrs. Jones' banter-like but loving interactions, along with many other married and dating couples, made you long for something which you had never expected to be missing. 

“What is it, dear?” Grandmother Anh then asked you as most of the people were slowly finishing their meals and moved on to play with the children or to talk with each other. “You look so somber.”

You, among only a handful of other guests who were still eating, had remained in their seats. Next to you, there was an extra plate with food that hadn’t been touched yet.

“Grandmother Anh…” You turned to her, your eyes expressing exactly what was going on inside of you. “Is it possible to miss someone so much, your heart hurts even though you had only been together in the morning?”

Because that was how you were feeling now. You wanted to be around Jaehyun all day, all night, not missing out on his presence even a single moment. Where you had loathed his existence before, it was all you could think about now and how you’d probably die of a heartache if he was ever gone.

You had never experienced something close to this.

“Oh dear…” Grandmother Anh squeezed your arm and smiled compassionately. “I miss my husband starting from the moment I open my eyes in the morning. And I even felt like that when he was still with me. We weren’t separated for a single day, and I know that even now, he’s with me.”

Because they loved each other wholeheartedly. You couldn’t say the same about what Jaehyun felt for you.

“But why are you so upset right now, dear?” she asked you. “He’s here now.”

“... what?”

You looked up and spotted Jaehyun walking down the street in your direction. You suppressed the urge to blink a few times in case this wasn’t real. But grandmother Anh had just said so, and he would be standing right in front of you not too long from now.

Suddenly, you were all nervous and excited like a child on the first day of school. Jumping out of your chair, hitting the table’s edge in the process and flushing to your cheeks, you didn’t quite know what to do at first. You wanted to run towards him and jump into the safety of his arms like this morning, but were too shy to do so.

What if he rejected you?

What if last night and this morning were an exception?

What if he had returned to being the reserved and taciturn Jaehyun from the beginning?

These were thoughts that were running through your head when you were standing there awkwardly to welcome him.

“I…” you then started when he stopped right in front of you, his mien not quite expressive enough for you to read. “I saved you some meat and potato salad.”

You didn’t know what you were saying, you were only trying to downplay this awkwardness that had weighed down the lighthearted atmosphere of the party as Jaehyun also clearly didn’t know how to behave after your intimate encounters.

“Are there n-”

But your words got stuck in your throat as Jaehyun stretched out his arms and cupped your glowing cheeks with his palms. It was almost magical how instantly, you were able to calm down. Then, he pulled you towards him, covering your lips with his as though he had been waiting all day only to do that.

As he kissed you there, in front of everyone, chastely, but also deeply, you knew that this wasn’t an act. This was not staged for the villagers to believe that you were a truly married couple.

This was honest. His feelings were real.

“God, I’ve wanted to do that all day,” he admitted, tucking a strand of your hair that had gotten loose behind your hair. “I thought time would never pass.”

And you were on the same page.

You were still on the same page when the front door of your house closed behind you later that evening and Jaehyun shoved you against the door, devouring all of you with an open mouth and his tongue, his fingers locked with yours in a tight grip, pinned against the wall above your head.

You were still on the same page when he bent you over the kitchen counter, not even showing the slightest patience by undressing you clothing for clothing as he just dragged your pants down and pushed into you from behind with a long-suppressed groan that made you scream in excitement.

You were still on the same page when you laid your palms flat on the surface in the illusion of getting support, moving along his length to meet his thrusts whenever he pulled out to just slam back into you full-force, because you couldn’t take being apart from him for even a second.

You were still on the same page when you were shaking from past-orgasm spasm, his cum dripping down your hips as he had released on your back, and he carried you on his hands to the bedroom with the words,

“I’m not done yet.”

It was raw.

And it was real.

____

For the fifth morning in a row, you woke up next to Jaehyun. And every time, it still felt so surreal to you that you wanted to give yourself a pinch to make sure this was real. But whenever you turned to his side, his arms tightly wrapped around you, and looked into his eyes that were so sincere and clear, you didn’t mind if this was a dream after all if only you wouldn’t wake up from it.

But today, his expression was clouded, and you could tell something was bothering him gravely that he couldn’t let go of.

“What is it?” you asked him, barely awake yet, but irritated that he wasn’t cuddling with you as usual. “Did something happen?”

It was odd. The fact that you could live with a person for so long and still know nothing about them. That was what Jaehyun told you the next moment.

“What do you mean?”

“That you don’t know my biggest secret yet. And that it might make you hate me.”

You feared that your whole world would teeter under your feet the further he spoke about what he had to confess to you. At this point, you loved him so much, you didn’t know what could possibly make you hate him. After all, he was a detective, and one of the good ones.

The last thing he would have done was kill an innocent person.

… right?

Jaehyun’s struggles were almost palpable for you as he inhaled and exhaled deeply, the muscles on his chest straining and never seeming to relax anymore as he withdrew into a deep hole of silence.

Minutes passed without him crawling out of it, and you sat up yourself, leaning against the headboard while Jaehyun was leaning forward, not facing each other. You wanted to hug him from the back to give him comfort, but also sensed that this would only restrain him from crossing over the final line he was so close to reaching.

And he really wanted to pass it.

“I could never hate you,” you told him. “I l-...” You gulped. “You’re a good person. What would ever make me hate you?”

“Not even knowing that I ruined someone’s life?”

There it was. The elephant in the room that rendered you totally motionless and emotionless. Ruining someone’s life was a wide term and could come in many shapes and forms, each that had a different impact on the victim, and the culprit. 

You desperately wanted to know Jaehyun’s dimension, and you knew he desperately, finally wanted to tell you.

“Explain to me. Has it got something to do with the scar on your chest?”

“Yes. As a detective, my job is to protect the victims. But I failed to do so once when I purposely hurt them.”

“How so?”

Jaehyun bent further forward, and you perceived how he lifted his hands to ruffle his hair in aggravation before he continued, “Last week, at Rosie’s birthday party when I got called to my supervisor, I told you it was about my case.”

You nodded. You hadn’t pushed the topic, because if Jaehyun had wanted to talk, he would have come forward. And now, it was apparently the time.

“This case has brought me here to this witness protection program. I’m clearing my name and serving my sentence, because I hurt a victim. The trial is long finished since the victim decided not to press charges, but hurting a hostage is not seen as a peccadillo among the police nonetheless. After I got suspended for a few months, I got sent here to prove myself again while working in another unit and eventually return to the NYPD.”

You had a hard time processing what Jaehyun tried to get into your head. Inwardly, you were repeating every single syllable until they settled.

“I ruined a life. That hostage, a woman… I shot at her,” he pressed bitterly through gritted teeth. “There, you have it. The reason to hate me.”

Your brow arched. “I don’t quite understand. Why did you shoot at a hostage?”

Being nosy was one of your characteristics, but the best part of it was that you never judged a situation before you got all the details, and you hadn’t collected enough details to waive Jaehyun’s action as something bad yet.

“The kidnapper was holding her hostage with a gun pointed at her head.” 

It was difficult for Jaehyun to speak about this situation, you could tell from the way he expressed himself, with hitches and deep breathers in between, but you gave him all the time he needed.

You lifted your hand and touched his back in a reassuring gesture, scared he would shy away, but still wanted to try. Instead of retreating, you felt his muscles relaxing under your palm, and you exhaled in relief, letting him know you were there for emotional support, no matter what was to come.

And what was about to come was really hard to digest.

“Instead of shooting at the kidnapper, I shot at the hostage’s leg. Of course I didn’t want to hurt her on purpose, but at this moment, it was the best thing that I could do. I could see it in his eyes. He really wanted to pull the trigger, that was how ruthless and brutal he was. As soon as I would shoot at him, he would shoot at her. So I had to do the last thing a policeman is supposed to do, and aimed at the hostage instead.”

Your forehead was in creases. You couldn’t grasp the entire situation as it sounded just so absurd to you. As a ballerina in the spotlight, you had never gotten in touch with this dark side of the world.

But Jaehyun was a good person. So good, that he omitted the entire story from you.

“You shot at the hostage, because an injured hostage is useless to the culprit,” it suddenly became clear to you. “You’re not a bad person, Jaehyun. That’s very courageous. And honorable as you did everything to save the hostage.”

His shoulders shook, and you were irritated whether he was laughing or crying. Until you noticed that his shaking was actually trembling, and that he was uttering indistinct sounds. Only moments later, you realized that he was, indeed, silently crying.

You just weren’t sure whether these were tears of guilt or tears of relief for finally coming clear with you.

“The scar… it’s from a bullet, right? Did he shoot directly at you after that? Is that how you got it?” 

“Even if, at the moment I pulled the trigger, he let go of the culprit and shot at me, I didn’t save her life.”

You felt a tight knot in your stomach. “Jaehyun… that woman… is she still alive?”

It didn’t sound like she didn’t survive the entire incident, but you wanted to hear it from him. Almost instinctively, he nodded with much hesitation, and relief washed over you. 

“But at what cost?” he broke through your thoughts. “That woman… one of her legs was rendered useless. I hit der at such an unfortunate spot-”

“But she still has her life,” you interfered. “And you risked your own life for her. You were ready to die for a victim. But she’s still alive, and you as well. That’s all that matters.”

“All that matters? Here’s the thing you’ll hate me for…” He sucked in a rush of air. “She was a professional ballerina. Just like you.”

You didn’t know what to say. Perhaps, it was best to not say anything at all now.

For a ballerina to lose the ability to use even one of her legs was the most unfortunate thing that could happen. All your life, you were trained to rely on your legs. They were your pillars that carried your passion, your career. You were dependent on your legs. You hadn’t learned how to use anything else to get through life.

You leaned forward and replaced the palm of your hand on his back with both of your arms. Gentle, you snuggled up against him and held him in your arms, resting your head in the crook of his neck and closing your eyes, listening to his silent cries.

“Jaehyun. Still. You didn’t ruin a life.”

Everything happening in the past weeks suddenly made so much sense to you. Why Jaehyun had been behaving so hostile upon seeing you for the first time, why he hadn’t wanted you to think so lowly about your safety, why he had wanted you to pick up your passion again, why he had bought you the MP3 player…

“You saved hers.”

Reluctantly, he placed his arms over yours. You really felt his insecurity, but your support was unwavering, and you let him know.

“And you saved yours as well. No lives were lost. You’re a good detective.”

At that moment, you assumed that you were the first person he actually opened up to. And the first person who actually truly understood his deepest feelings.

“Thank you.”

Jaehyun turned to you and kissed you. It tasted of tears and despair. 

And a bit of wishful thinking.

____

“I’m still in therapy because of it,” Jaehyun spoke the day after when he was ready to pick up the topic again. “Well, when I’m in New York, I mean.”

It was constantly warm outside nowadays, you two sitting on the slope of the hill behind your house, and you couldn’t wait to finally embrace summer fully in this part of the world where you had never experienced this season before. 

Your hair was glowing in the bright sunlight. Jaehyun liked to compare it to a pink rose when you woke up in the mornings and he ran his fingers through the strands.

“That’s good,” you coaxed him, showing full support ever since his confession. “I think it’s always good to speak with a professional about traumatic experiences. They will never go away at some point, but we all have to learn to live with them.”

You stood by your opinion that Jaehyun had had no other choice and actually had made the right decision in this situation. You respected him for that, and you had learned that the hostage, who had attended the trial of course, thought so as well as she had voiced during the process.

It was only the inner demons Jaehyun was fighting now, and you would help him get every single one of them caged.

“It’s odd.”

“What is?”

You stretched yourself, enjoying the warmth. “The fact that I know about your most traumatic experience, but not even where you were born.”

“I was born in Seoul, as a matter of fact,” he clarified instantly.

“The city where I live?” you called out in surprise. 

Jaehyun nodded. “I lived there with my mom until I graduated from high school. Then I went to New York because my dad has been working there, and pursued a career as a policeman.”

You pulled grass between your fingers, the mild breeze playing with the tips of your hair strands. “Why did you want to join the police?”

“I’m good at solving cases. And I really want to help people, but didn’t have the patience to go to med school.” Jaehyun looked up, smiling softly against the wind. “Why did you take up ballet classes?”

Yeah… why? You shrugged. “It was something I was passionate about ever since I was a little child.” Your reasoning was not as extensive and detailed as his, but for you, it had always been enough.

And for Jaehyun as well. He turned his head against the sky and basked in the sun. “That’s great. Anything else you want to know?”

“Fair enough, since you knew every fact about me before I even set foot in this country. Do you have siblings?” you jumped at the chance. 

“No.”

“Favorite food?” 

“Nothing specific. I like anything.”

“A country you’d like to visit one day?”

“Japan.”

“A country you have visited and is your favorite?”

He smiles. “I’ve only been to South Korea and here, so… Here.”

“Can you imagine going back there though?” you then asked. “To Seoul, I mean.”

“Absolutely not.”

You didn’t know why his answer hurt you. Disappointment seeped deep into your heart at the realization that your real home and his real home were separated by an entire ocean if you were ever to go back. 

“Do you miss your home?” Jaehyun then returned.

Did you still?

You weren’t so sure about that anymore. You missed your family and your friends, as a matter of fact, and not a day passed in which you didn’t think about them. But not as much and as hurtful as in the beginning where tears had kept you up all night. Your sadness had stepped back, making space for a feeling that was much greater.

But you didn’t want to tell him that.

“Yeah, I do.”

Jaehyun shifted his head back to you. “I can imagine that.”

He kissed you then, right at your favorite spot in the entire village, his fingers entangled in your rosy hair. You felt so happy, yet so regretful as you hadn’t had any memory of a moment where you had been at such a high in your life back there in Seoul.

There, you had everything. The spotlight, your family and your friends. But despite everything, right here and now was where your heart was going to burst because you didn’t know how much bliss it could still grasp.

There were so many more questions you wanted to still ask him.

How his life back there in New York was. How he imagined life when this was all over. Whether he had someone he held dear back home.

But you swallowed all of them down. You were scared of the answers.

You didn’t need to know every little detail about a person’s life to fall in love with them. All it took was to know how they treated others, how they treated you and their outlook on life, nothing more.

Not even their real name.

The rest would fall into place.

Deep down, you had accepted your new life with every aspect it offered itself to you, and whenever you thought about the village and its people, a certain warmth enclosed your heart that nearly made you teary-eyed.

You didn’t want to leave anymore. That was now clear to you.

____

Call it intuition. Gut feeling. A woman’s instinct.

Whatever it was called that you were experiencing that day, it would be right. Your whole world crashed when Jaehyun walked through the door after work that day.

“You have to leave,” were his first words as soon as he spotted you. “Now.”

“... what?”

With widened eyes, you watched the sweat drops on his forehead slowly rolling along his temples. Had he run all the way here? And why did he seem so anxious as though he was trying to uphold a friend? You had never seen him like this.

“Go pack your things. You have five minutes.”

“Jaehyun…” You stood up from the couch. “I don’t understand, only last wee-”

“It’s all settled,” he interjected calmly but curtly. “The day I got called to my supervisor, you remember? They told me I was free to return to the NYPD. My job here is done as they finally found someone else for you. I can go back home, to my old life.”

“That means…?” You halted. You wanted to cover your ears. You didn’t want to hear.

But Jaehyun broke the hard truth down for you. “You’ll be moved to another city, get assigned another fake husband, exactly. The driver will be here in a few.”

You were flabbergasted at how factual his way of delivering the news to you was. “You only stayed with me to deal with your bad conscience, right? Because I’m a ballerina as well, and for protecting me, you would pay your debt? Now that the time is over, you want to get rid of me?”

Of course you hoped he would deny everything you had just accused him of. But he didn’t. This was like a nightmare.

“This program works like that,” Jaehyun explained to you like you were some twelve year old, with much repulsion written all over his face. “You move from one city to another, from one husband to another. You brought this upon yourself.”

Here was the deal with anger. You didn’t feel how it got implanted into you. You couldn’t feel it grow and feed on your pain. Suddenly, it was there, and you didn’t have any control over it until, from one moment to another, it made itself aware verbally and physically.

You wanted to scream, grab for the nearest vase nearby and throw it against the wall, yelling at him how much of an asshole he could be, leading you on this entire time. But sometimes, people were stronger than anger.

And so were you.

He had never led you on. You had always been aware of the rules. He didn’t owe you anything.

“Is that all?” you only brought out dryly, the vowels stuck in your throat. 

You didn’t want to cry, you didn’t owe him a single tear in return, not a single word anymore, because you had known all along that this was about to come eventually. 

This… all this wasn’t real. This wasn’t your life. And the next one wouldn’t be your real life either.

You didn’t know what your next fake home and fake husband would be like. You didn’t know for how long they’d stay this time. All you knew was that you didn’t want them. You didn’t want anyone else other than Jaehyun.

“That’s all.”

But he didn’t want you anymore.

You just wondered how he could stand there, as stoic and taciturn and as cold as when you had first met. 

What had happened to the Jaehyun that woke up next to you every morning, playing with your hair, snuggling up against you and kissing the nape of your neck? The Jaehyun that showed you a different side every night, making you feel so special and loved? The Jaehyun that had let you into his deepest secrets?

Perhaps, he was just so good at his job. No wonder they wanted him back in the NYPD.

Your fingers grabbed just whatever piece of clothing they could find, regardless of whether you had picked up everything that belonged to you or not.

When you rolled your suitcase to the door a few minutes later, you had digested the first waves of shock and were only barely able to hold back your tears. You had expected that the end would come in little steps, with signs that would indicate the last days were approaching, giving you time to adjust, prepare and linger around.

Now, it was like ripping off a band aid. 

As you turned away from him, who had not moved since, tears were burning behind your eyes, but you didn’t want to lose your dignity in front of him. You wanted to defy him again, show him that you were just as strong as him and that it all didn’t bother you. That you had only played the role of a wife so perfectly, you had not only fooled the ones around you, but him as well - just as he had done with you.

But in contrast to Jaehyun, for you, it had meant everything to the point you had wished that this was your real life.

This, you couldn’t lie to yourself about. And it was the thing that hurt the most.

When the car pulled up the next moment, you expected Jaehyun to still say something to you, but he just stood there, with an expressionless face, watching you getting into the vehicle. Your eye contact didn’t break, even though you wished so. You just couldn’t tear your gaze away from him as you still hoped that he would raise his voice and beg you to stay.

And you would have.

But he didn’t.

When the car reverted, he just stood there. When you drove along the main street, he just stood there. Even when you were almost out of his sight, he just stood there.  

“You’re going to Phoenix this time, Miss!” the driver, the same as from your first day, told you, looking through the rear mirror. “I’m sure you’ll like it there!”

No, you wouldn’t. 

This was the most miserable day of your life, and still in the car, you broke down in tears.

You would have given everything to sit down with Rosie, grandmother Anh and Mrs. Jones just once again, playing cards and drinking wine. You would have given everything to go shopping with Rosie and hear her lighthearted laughter again. You would have given everything to eat grandmother Anh’s dumplings and get her advice again.

You would have given everything to just spend another day in the village, appreciating what you had had and saying goodbye to everyone.

But even this, he had pried out of your hands, rendering you so defenseless and vulnerable.

You hated him.

And whenever your gaze fell upon the key chain of the yellow elephant wearing a red tie on your purse, you cried even harder, wanting to rip it off and throw it out of the window.

But no matter how much you wanted to hate him and talk yourself into it, you couldn’t bring yourself to truly feel so.

You didn’t care about your old life anymore. You didn’t care whether you could never go back. You didn’t care about your career, about your future.

You were willing to give all of this up forever just to spend another day in the life that had been such an illusion, but had made you the happiest so far.

“Uhm… Miss…”

____

Klick.

The sound of the safety catch of a gun getting released.

“You’re late,” Jaehyun announced into the semi-darkness as he took the weapon back into his hand. “She’s not here anymore. She just left.”

“I know,” a voice he had never heard before, answered back. “I actually came for you.”

“Oh. Be my guest then.” Jaehyun chuckled with sarcasm. “I wasn’t sure when exactly you’d arrive since my people couldn’t find the flight you boarded, but this is what I call perfect timing as I just left the door open. So, how did you find us exactly?”

He shrugged. “You know… it cost me a fortune and a few private detectives, but I was always watching her, even during detention. I always knew where she was. That I’m only coming now is because I thought that eventually, when she sees that I’m free and behaving, she’d come back.” His voice cracked. “But she didn’t.”

Jaehyun remembered the night you had claimed to have heard someone roaming around in the bedroom or garden. So there had been truly someone among you, a private detective most likely. He hated himself at that moment for not having been able to protect you better. 

“You know what happened to the former guy she dated?” 

The stalker stepped into the light that flooded into the room from the window, and as Jaehyun looked into his face, he encountered a man who he, and probably every other person, would deem harmless at first glance. He looked like a normal office worker, not intimidating or even dangerous at all with his slicked back hair and wide glasses.

“They packed their things and went away as soon as they met me,” he illustrated, almost boastful with much pride in his voice. “One of them didn’t want to back off, so I had to slash his tires. That was when he got the message.”

“Lucky you that I’m not one of these guys. I’m not scared of you.” Jaehyun grinned. “I’m her husband, and I’m going to protect her at all costs.”

“She doesn’t belong to you!” he then yelled, throwing around his arms. “She belongs to me! … But… she’s always running away from me… She never comes back to me. Why would someone do that when you’re destined to be together?”

Despite the semi-darkness, Jaehyun saw the insanity coming forward in his eyes that gradually slowly took power of his entire body. He wasn’t familiar with stalking cases personally himself, but had read quite a few things prior to your arrival.

Clearly, this guy followed the delusional disbelief of your both’s romantic destiny despite you having made it clear several times that no such thing existed at your side. Yet, his obsession with you had made him want to continue being a part of your life and change your mind at all costs until it turned unhealthy and dangerous for you, watching you and following each of your steps. Admiration had quickly turned into the sadistic urge to torment you, because if he couldn’t have you, nobody could.

And now, you didn’t even deserve to live if it wasn’t with him.

“I’m not going to run away like the other guys,” Jaehyun spoke calmly. “I’m here to set an end to this, because she deserves to live freely and happily. And I want to give this to her.”

“No!” he screamed, sweat dripping down his temples, and only now, Jaehyun saw the blade glistening against the dim light. “She can only be happy with me! With me only, not with someone else or even alone!”

Jaehyun lifted up his arms and aimed the gun at him. He flinched. “She’s happy with me. How does that sound, asshole?”

Suddenly, he laughed. “If you shoot at me, you’re going to jail, and you’re not going to have her either.”

“I don’t care,” Jaehyun spoke calmly and the guy raised his brows. “I don’t care if I might go to jail because of this, because no one else before cared enough. I don’t care if I have to give my life for hers, because my life is not worth living if she’s dead. I don’t care if I have her or not. I just want her to be far away from you and live her life to the fullest, because she deserves it. Because this is what love is.”

“Oh, you fool.” He laughed again, this time like a maniac. “She has you in her force. That’s what she usually does.”

“Maybe.” Jaehyun’s finger enclosed the trigger. “But that’s what love also is. Forceful.”

The stalker raised his hand, the huge knife between his fingers fully visible now as he prepared himself to dash forward, but the second he moved, your voice echoed through the house.

“Stop!”

You stepped into the living room, totally out of breath, but lucky to have convinced the driver to turn around before it was too late after he had empathized very much with you during your breakdown in the car and told you the entire truth.

“It’s okay,” you breathed, having reached the premises only seconds ago. “I see it clearly now. I can’t be with you, Jaehyun. I can’t run away from my feelings either.” You smiled mildly and stepped closer to the stalker. “I see where I belong to.”

Jaehyun couldn’t believe what he had just heard. “What-!”

“I know we didn’t have a great start,” you said, your gaze not wavering from the guy who had made your life on earth a living hell, yet you tried to conceal that you were trembling all over and sweating in fear as this was the only way to save Jaehyun. “While you only wanted to protect me, I always tried to defy you. I felt caged, imprisoned and really unhappy. It was only later that I realized that you did all that because you cared. About my safety… about me.”

Jaehyun saw that you were directing these words to your tormentor, but he also saw that they were not lies. They were only directed at the wrong person.

“Yes, yes!” the guy blurted. “That’s totally it!”

“Will you now please put away the knife? I will willingly come with you.” Then, you finally spun around to Jaehyun. “Please put the gun away as well.”

“But-!”

“Please!”

Hesitantly, he did as he had been told, so did the persecutor. He knew where you had come from as the guy wouldn’t have done the same, but still didn’t find the thought to be so weaponless appealing. 

After the stalker had placed the knife on the kitchen counter, he turned around to you with a bright smile on his face, but it got wiped out very quickly - with your knuckles rolling nearly in slow motion over his cheek and continuing along the bridge of his nose. He lost balance and was thrown against a chair, folding like a piece of paper as he collapsed against the furniture.

Your fist had met his face full-force, and you stilled the seconds after, having totally caught him off guard - and yourself as well.

“The knife!” Jaehyun then screamed, reaching for his gun once again.

But as your fingers moved to reach for the weapon, your hand got slapped away and the blade vanished in front of your eyes and back into the possession of the stalker. Only this time, the knife was not the only thing he claimed to have taken control over.

The sharp blade slightly buried itself into the side of your neck as he had rendered you motionless by having you in a choke with his other arm wrapped around your middle. All your twisting and turning didn’t benefit you in any way as he was much taller and stronger, and you could only watch all the color drain from Jaehyun’s eyes as he looked back at you in horror.

“What wishful thinking, I’m such a fool,” the stalker whispered into your ear, blood streaming down your side, and the pain slowly overshadowed the shock you had initially felt. “If you can’t have someone yourself, all you can do is kill the person.”

You heard it click as Jaehyun was now pointing his gun at you. “Not before I kill you first.”

And then, there was pain.

____

When you were in the hospital, you dreamed of Jaehyun.

He was holding your hand at night, not leaving your side. It was tender and warm, just like the first time he had held your hand when you had joined the dinner with the other villagers. You could even hear what he was saying to you. Many words you had been longing to hear for so long.

Too bad that these were only fever dreams.

Because instead, when you woke up three days later, there was Rosie.

… Rosie!?

But you weren’t able to bring these words out as your throat was dry, so the syllables only came out as rasping sounds. She was quick to serve you a glass of water before you were finally able to ask,

“...Rosie? What happened?”

“Jesus!” she let out in wonder. “You can’t remember a thing?”

You shook your head. “Do you?” And then cocked your brow. “... what do you know exactly?”

“Jay told me everything. About you. About the program.” Your eyes widened and you prepared yourself to sit up, but Rosie gently pushed you back against the pillow. Only then you noticed that you couldn’t have made it further anyway. Your entire middle hurt. “It’s okay, lay still. Nobody can harm you anymore. He’s dead.”

“... dead?” You barely believed your own ears. 

Rosie nodded. “Jay’s bullet hit you, but it was only a graze, barely visible, but enough to take the stalker by surprise so that he suddenly let go of you. But… he was on top of you the next moment… with the knife.” She struggled to find the right words. “When I arrived after the reinforcement you called before… there was so much blood, and Jay was holding you in his arms… he was screaming… wailing. He thought he’d lost you, and so did I.”

You got stabbed?!

That would explain the immense pain that turned more distinct with each bypassing second, and you were so close to calling a nurse to pump some more morphine into you.

“W… what happened to… him?” you asked, though a part of you already knew the answer.

“Jay shot at him. He died on the spot.”

You didn’t blame yourself for feeling so much relief at this moment. For the past year, this man had robbed you of all your happiness and freedom. Now, it was all over. You were safe and free. You had every right to be happy.

But you weren’t.

“Where is…” Suddenly, you stilled as a dangerous thought crossed our mind. “Is he-”

“He’s fine.” The corner of Rosie’s lips tilted up. “Even now, you’re only thinking about him. He’s outside. Should I call him in?”

“Yes, please. And Rosie?” You reached for her hand, squeezing it. “Thank you for coming. It means a lot.”

She squeezed your fingers back. “Even though this life of yours wasn’t real… I know our friendship is.”

She was so right.

When Rosie left, Jaehyun didn’t come in right away. You waited for at least five more minutes until the handle moved downwards and the face you had been longing to see all along finally appeared in your room.

“How are you doing?” he asked, and it made you shudder how distant he sounded as opposed to the look in his eyes. 

They were telling a whole other story, and you wondered what was holding him back from running over to you and finally taking you into his arms. 

“Fine.”

The pain in your stomach really did feel fine when the pain in your heart was a much graver one.

“Don’t lie to me. You got stabbed right through. It’s not like it’s nothing.” He lowered his head. “And it’s my fault. Again.”

You saw where he was coming from after everything that he had been through. Your mind was still working only slowly as it hadn’t been able to make the connection right away, but now, it was all clear.

“It’s thanks to you that I’m still alive. I’m very grateful.”

Eventually, the pain in your stomach would pass, leaving only a scar. You couldn’t imagine what the stalker would have done to you if Jaehyun wouldn’t have been there. You counted yourself very lucky to still be alive.

“Thank you, honestly.”

He acknowledged your feelings with a nod, though you weren’t entirely convinced that he thought the same about you. And as he didn’t move away from the door further in your direction, you finally grasped that he just wasn’t there by your side yet. Not only physically, but also emotionally.

At some point, everything happening in the past months had been real for him too. But now that he could have it all, he was getting cold feet. You didn’t know why, but you knew that it wasn’t your fault, and it certainly wasn’t in your power to lay out all the reasons as to why he shouldn’t feel this way.

He just wasn’t ready.

“You’re going back to the NYPD, right?”

“Yeah. Tomorrow already, as a matter of fact. I have things to take care of.” He scratched his head in nervousness. “You’ll be okay?”

Oddly, you could affirm his assumption.

You’d return to Seoul and to the Korea National Ballet. If you’d had a talk with the academy, you were positive that you could also still join the Dutch National Ballet as originally planned. You had your old life back, and it would all fall into place.

Your future, everything you had worked so hard for, laid in front of you again.

And without Jaehyun. 

Again.

“I’ll be okay.” Despite these insights, you smiled through your pain. “Really.”

“Okay.” Jaehyun’s smile was equally painful. 

Perhaps, he had wished for another outcome as well. But whatever was holding him back was more powerful than everything he’d ever felt for you, and you wished that you could share his pain again, telling him that he didn’t need to go through this all alone.

But you knew, this time, he wouldn’t let you.

Rosie was there for you after he had long left, comforting you throughout the entire night. She was also there when you got discharged two weeks later, bidding you farewell at the airport and showering you with so much love a friend could possibly feel for another. 

“We’re going to meet again,” you promised her.

“I’ll come visit you,” she promised you too.

And with that, you returned to your old life.

____

The curtain call was your favorite part of each performance. Then, all the burden and pressure fell from your shoulders and you could finally breathe again, showering in the spotlight and relishing the applause.

Today was the first time that you stood on the stage of the Korea National Ballet again after the events in the States and thus, your first curtain call after such a long time.

Your hair had returned to its natural color, and despite the fact that you hadn’t changed at all from the outside, you knew that on the inside, you were an entirely different person. Nothing would be like before ever again.

“Good performance,” your instructor remarked and moved on to tell the same to the others as well.

You hadn’t danced an important position, only moving in the background as your instructor had been sure that you had let things slide in the months you were away. Before, you would have gotten angry, practicing day and night to lose the remaining weight and catch up with the others. Yes, you surely had let things slide, but to you, nothing of this was important anymore.

The Dutch National Ballet hadn’t wanted you back, and you couldn’t hold it against them. You were glad to have been able to pick up some kind of engagement again. Until you were back at the top, a lot of time would pass.

You just weren’t so sure anymore if you wanted to climb up that high again.

You took off your tight shoes in the dressing room and rubbed your wounded feet, your thoughts drifting off. You had seen him again. In the audience, sitting in the first row and watching you. Usually, you didn’t let your eyes wander through the people, but this time, your role had given you enough time to do so.

Not your stalker, but Jaehyun.

He had sat there, in a black tuxedo, and had watched you with the same gaze that he would share only with you during your time together.

You knew immediately that this wasn’t real. He wasn’t here. He couldn’t be here. 

Because lately, you saw and felt him very often. Next to you on the bed when you were waking up, walking close to you as you strolled through the streets, and in the mirror whenever you lifted your head after washing your face. 

This was what it was like when you couldn’t let go of a person you had once loved so much.

“There is someone waiting for you in the lobby,” another dancer told you in passing.

“Who is it?” 

“Said his name was Yuno.” She shrugged. “Wears a black tuxedo and waits by the stairs.”

“Okay.”

You didn’t know a person named Yuno, so you didn’t hurry changing your clothes and took your sweet time, until a sudden thought crossed your mind. This was how it had started out with your stalker as well! 

But it couldn’t be. He wasn’t alive anymore, and here, nobody would give you the same attention as you were only a background dancer. You sucked in a rush of air, halted, and then continued your way.

You’d be fine.

Just as you had promised Jaehyun.

“Mister…” you called out when you came around the corner. You didn’t know his surname, so you faltered, only able to watch him from behind as he stood with his back to you.

“Jeong. Mister Jeong.”

“... Mister...”

Your voice was stable, in contrast to your inner feelings as a storm broke free deep within you. You hadn’t seen him in so long, and you wanted to cry, scream and slap him all at once.

“I saw your performance.” He smiled. “You’re marvelous. I wanted to bring you a bouquet of flowers, but thought it would be a bit too tactless…”

“You’re late,” you interrupted him.

“I know,” he agreed. “There were a few things I had to take care of.”

“Things that took you three months?” You folded your arms across your chest. “I thought… I thought you moved on.”

“Is that what you think of me?” He looked hurt. “Have you moved on?”

Not a single bit. Every night, you lived through every moment you had spent together in the States. As much as you had wanted to, you hadn’t been able to move on.

Almost unnoticeably, you shook your head.

“You want to know what I did during this time?” He stepped closer to you as the lobby was emptying, and you didn’t retreat. “I visited the ballerina. She’s doing well. She’s a counselor now, helping people who are as handicapped as her. She said it’s fulfilling and that she’s very happy, and she thanked me again for saving her life. Hearing it from her personally takes a huge burden off my heart.”

Despite your controversial feelings, you smiled. “That’s good to hear. I’m happy for you.”

“And I finished my therapy sessions,” he continued. “For a long time, I thought I was the person bringing harm to people. I’m a detective, why am I only bringing harm to people I desperately want to protect? It just didn’t get into my head. My therapist said that not everyone is made for this life and I should focus on finding a partner who is as equally courageous and fearless as me. Who shares my views on life, who doesn’t back down and looks danger right into the eye. Only then, when I have a partner who can take care of themselves, I don’t have to fear for two lives, but only for one. For mine, because my partner will be fine by themselves.”

Then, he smiled too as you recalled, “I slapped the hell out of that asshole.”

“Yeah, you did. You also defied all my orders. You always know how to take care of yourself. You don’t run away when it’s getting dangerous. And you didn’t hesitate even for a single second when you found out that I lied that day. You came back right away to help me. If there is a woman suitable for me, then it’s you.”

You chewed on the inner flesh of your mouth to keep the growing smile from showing. You still didn’t know what exactly this all meant, but you were eager to hear it from him soon.

“But I didn’t come here to tell you this only.”

You tilted your head. “What did you come here for then?”

“I came to pick up my wife,” was his answer that nearly made your heart jump out of your chest.

You stared at him, lost for words and mouth agape.

“I’m sorry that it took me so long. I wanted to get everything cleared and settled. I wanted to be emotionally ready for a new path in my life, with you by my side. I… I mean… If you hate New York and want to stay in Seoul instead,” he hemmed and hawed, “I would be happy to cross the ocean again as long as you’ll be waiting for me at the other side. But if you want to come back to the US, I’ll be fine with that as well. In Seoul, New York or Connecticut… I can call any place my home as long as you’re with me. This time, as my real wife.”

You felt tears gathering in the brims of your eyes. “As… as your wife?”

“As my wife.” He nodded. “You want me to repeat that again?”

“Yes, please.” You blinked, your shoulders starting to tremble.

“Perhaps, you rather want to read it,” he dismissed softly and reached into the inner pocket of his tuxedo to pull out a sheet that he carefully unfolded and handed over to you.

You read attentively.

MARRIAGE CERTIFICATE APPLICATION

of

Jeong Yuno

and

….

There it was. His real name. Your real name. 

This was real.

You looked up to him, the tears now streaming down your face, and you desperately tried to dry them with the back of your hand.

“If we get all your papers together, we can apply tomorrow and be officially married by next week.”

You could barely see through the blurry curtain of tears. 

“This time, for real?” 

you asked as Yuno, as his real name was, took your hands into his, and it felt just like the first time when you had walked along the streets of the little countryside village.

“This time, for real,” he promised.

die in your arms

pairing: prince!jaehyun x (f) reader

genre/warnings: smut, angst, horror, arranged marriage, unprotected sex, graphic descriptions of violence, mentions of vomiting and suicide, major character death

word count: 22.4k

summary: Every single night before bed, you play your royal husband, Jaehyun, a song on his grandfather’s piano as a distraction from the ominous sounds you hear. To the public, you’re all smiles, but discreetly, you’re a slave to your suspicions. Though it seems the more you pry, the more secrets you start to unravel.

author’s note: so, remember when i said i wasn’t writing a halloween fic? yeah, i lied. happy spooky season!

Don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop, you chanted to yourself, running because your life depended on it. 

Your feet hurt and you had lost track of how long you had been running for, but you pushed yourself forward even as your energy from the adrenaline started to dwindle. 

Never had you needed to fight for your life before. Fight for anything. Your legs burned from ache, begging for a break while your bare feet slapped against wet dirt. Your face was damp with tears and rainwater. But you never stopped. Not even for a second. 

Not as long as he was behind you. Even after hours of running, you knew he wouldn’t stop until he had at last caught you. He could run across acres of land and never break a sweat. 

Lightning struck and you screamed, only to realize it was the shrouds of darkness looming over you. You were on edge. 

“My love,” Jaehyun sang, calling out to you from a distance. 

His voice made you shudder, but you bunched your dress into your fists, the white gown difficult to run in. You didn’t look back, though you knew that he wasn’t far. 

Pushing Jaehyun’s voice to the back of your head, you tried to find an escape route. The garden had to stretch across at least a thousand acres. There was no end in sight. You were inclined to believe you were running in circles across perfectly manicured grass and stone trails. 

Jaehyun had the upper hand. It was his palace, for heaven’s sake. He had grown up wandering around these paths and exploring halls that were carbon copies of each other. You had barely made it out of the palace, clearing corridor after corridor, though unsure if you were making any distance because of how they paralleled.

You found another stone footpath, feeling the ground harden beneath your feet where moonlight shone through the tiniest of puddles. For whatever reason, seeing your scared face in your reflection gave you chills. Your face that was once perfectly made was ruined with streaks of mascara, black. 

What should have been the happiest day of your life had quickly turned upside-down. 

When you glanced aside, what you saw nearly got another hair-raising scream out of you, but you bit your lip hard enough to make yourself bleed. 

Horror was beginning not to explain your feelings as you fought for survival, wide eyes drifting around the pond in a perfect rectangle. There were tombstones surrounding the pond, watered by rain. You could see names etched on them; your parents, Jaehyun’s parents, and some of his servants. Dead fish floated in the water. 

“No,” you cried out, kneeling aside your parents’ gravestones. You didn’t care that your dress dirtied. You lost all purpose for it the second you saw him for the monster he had been all along. 

From the beginning this had only been a perfectly crafted game where you never had a chance. You were baited like an animal and Jaehyun was somewhere watching you like a hawk in the sky, because little did you know, you would never make it out. 

He had made sure of that. 

“This is your home now,” Jaehyun exclaimed, but it was all white noise to you. You didn’t even know where he was or how far he stood from you. Your mind was racing but empty all the while. 

You knew there had to be a shed somewhere. If you were quick, maybe you could hit him over the head with a trowel or a really heavy pot. If you wanted to make it out alive, you had to escape on your own. You knew there was nobody else alive out here aside from you and Jaehyun. 

Not to mention thinking about what Jaehyun would do to you if he caught you made your blood run cold, because you simply didn’t know. He was an enigma to you now. You went from living every little girl’s dreams of becoming a princess to living a never-ending nightmare.

“Darling. There you are,” Jaehyun said, as if he hadn’t already had you trapped. 

You screamed, screamed a silent cry, unable to hear his wet footsteps over the sound of your mind racing a thousand thoughts per hour. It was over. You lost. He had caught you. 

Jaehyun swept you into his arms and crooned, “Shh, it’s alright. Everything is okay, darling.”

Every exhale was a battle. You heaved, chest undulating, and tried to regain some semblance of composure. Your eyes studied the room and you realized you were no longer in Jaehyun’s boundless garden, but in his chamber. There was no rain pouring on you. Only sweat beading at your skin, cooling at your neck. 

“It was just a nightmare,” Jaehyun whispered, voice sweet and tender as it had always been. 

You still shuddered, but you were relieved that it was only a dream. You leaned into Jaehyun’s touch, breathing in the crisp air. 

You flitted your gaze to the balcony attached to the giant chamber, blocked off by a glass door. The royal blue curtains were drawn, giving you a perfect view of the garden it overlooked. Rain fell brutally and little droplets gathered at the screen. 

Nights like this were a recurring series of events ever since you started sharing a bed with Jaehyun. You would wake in the middle of the night, damp with sweat, screaming your lungs off. Jaehyun would hold you and whisper sweet nothings in your ears, trying to calm you down. 

If you were being honest, it wasn’t Jaehyun that was giving you nightmares, in spite of the fact that the one key element they all shared was that he would be hunting you down in all of them. It was the dangerous lack of sleep you were getting. Interestingly, the monarchy had owls that kept you up at night, and when you finally fell asleep, bad dreams loomed over you. 

For whatever reason, sleep deprivation made you prone to them. You tried to remind yourself Jaehyun was a great guy and your stupid brain playing tricks on you was not a reflection of his character, but the fact that you consistently had more or less the same dream solely about him made you antsy. 

Grow up. Dreams don’t mean anything. You sound like a little girl afraid of the monsters under her bed, you hissed to yourself, chastising. The fact that it was so silly was enough to make you promptly dismiss your worries. 

For the three months you had been engaged, Jaehyun took the extra time to get to know you. It was strange, because he didn’t need to. Your marriage was a business proposal rather than the kneeling before your lover kind, and both of your parents had influence throughout the country. You had never spoken until then. 

In spite of that detail, Jaehyun treated you as if he could see himself truly loving you one day. Maybe because he wanted things to be as non-awkward as possible, given that you would be sharing the same bed at night. 

By day, Jaehyun would flaunt you in front of the media and hold you flush against him at royal events as he did throughout your betrothal. The wedding had to have been the most remarkable occasion of them all. It lasted throughout the entire day, hundreds of thousands of people present to celebrate your nuptials. 

When you married, you moved into the palace, which was precisely when the nightmares started. Because of those goddamn owls. 

Some nights later, you shot up again, having yet another nightmare. Noticing the bedside lamp was switched on, you glanced to your side, observing Jaehyun with a book in hand and spectacles sitting squarely on the bridge of his nose. “Another bad dream?”

You nodded, biting your lip. You felt bad and slightly embarrassed. Never had you and Jaehyun shared a bed until your honeymoon, so his first impression of your sleeping habits were you being prone to crying out in the middle of the night. 

Jaehyun, setting his book to the side after marking his place, opened his arms for you. You crawled into them without hesitation. Over time, they had started to feel like home. It took the edge off your homesickness. 

This is your home now. You shivered. It’s just a dream. It’s just a dream. It’s just a very bad fucking dream, you comforted yourself.

Jaehyun whispered tenderly, “Tell me what you saw.”

You swallowed and damped your throat. Though you had told him about the owls, you kept to yourself the bit about him chasing you like a serial killer. “It’s a little dark,” you told him in fair warning. 

Jaehyun didn’t seem to give a damn. “It’s only a dream. It can’t scare me. Unless a monster is going to hop out of your cute brain and yell, ‘Boo!’”

You giggled. Leave it to Jaehyun to make you laugh when you needed it most. He had come to learn your needs over those three months of bonding.

Jaehyun threw you an expectant look. “Well?”

You hesitated, but ultimately gave in. Jaehyun was your husband now, for fuck’s sake. What couldn’t you tell him? “Well, every night I have the same nightmare about… you. You’re always chasing me throughout the castle. Every time, I get close to escaping, but you catch me in the end. And then I wake up.”

“It’s not very realistic.” 

You pulled back, giving him a look. “Hm?”

“I would never chase you,” Jaehyun said. “I will always have you right where I want you.”

Your eyes flickered. It was an unsettling comment, but you tried to let it go. Jaehyun doesn’t have an evil bone in his body, you reminded yourself. He’s harmless.

Jaehyun clambered out of bed, sitting his spectacles on top of his book, and stood on two feet. When you merely watched him with interest, he beckoned you to mirror him. “Come on. I have something to show you.”

Hesitantly you obeyed him, crawling from bed and sliding on your slippers. Following him into the halls, you walked hand in hand with Jaehyun the entire time who had laced his fingers through yours comfortably. The gesture made you smile, no matter how little. 

Like in your dreams, the corridors were of length and resembled each other almost precisely. High stone walls stood tall, statues at its sides, and chandeliers glared at you from above your heads. Given it was after nightfall, the halls were dimly lit. 

One of the statues you swore you saw move and give you a mean glower. You asked curiously, “Did you ever break anything when you were a child?”

“Not that I remember. No.”

“Huh,” you retorted. “You must have been a wonderful child.”

“I stayed in my room and looked out the window,” Jaehyun muttered under his breath. 

Your eyes flickered.

Jaehyun brought you to a room at the very end of the passage but before he drew the doors open, he told you softly, “Close your eyes.”

You rolled your eyes, but did as told, giggling. Jaehyun got a hold of both of your hands and placed them over your face for safe measure. Then, he drew the doors open, pushing you inside. 

Jaehyun guided you mysteriously throughout the room and you let him without question. You knew he had switched the lights on, the corners of your vision getting brighter in spite of the dark void, and he stopped you momentarily. 

“Now, open.”

You slowly opened your eyes, squinting while you adjusted to the bright lights. Then they focused in front of you, and what you saw made you giddy with excitement. 

“Whoa,” you gasped, running a hand over the grand piano. It was royal blue, monarchical patterns thoughtfully designed over the lid. 

Jaehyun was sporting the biggest smile you had ever seen. “Do you like it?”

You bobbed your head. During your engagement, you remembered telling Jaehyun, en passant, that you had been enamored with playing pianos since you were little. “You remembered,” you said quietly, touched. 

Jaehyun’s dimples showed and it was the cutest thing ever. He spoke softly, “This was my grandfather’s piano. He hated bad weather and played it when it stormed. I know that it’s not the same, but I thought that maybe if you played the piano before bed, it would help with your nightmares.”

“That’s really thoughtful of you, Jaehyun,” you replied, heat spreading through your chest like wildfire. “Do you want me to play you a song?”

“Yes,” Jaehyun said and pulled out a chair. 

You sat on the piano bench, getting comfortable and warming up your fingers lest they cramped in the middle of your impromptu performance. For a multigenerational piano, it was still in perfect condition. 

“My mother taught me this,” you told him in preparation. 

You proceeded to play him a mind-blowing masterpiece, your eyes and hands trained to the keyboard. Jaehyun was dumbfounded that any human being could be so graceful while playing an instrument and kept himself fixed to your supple fingers. He was enamored, knowing then and there that he wanted to hear you play your sweet song forever. 

Eyes closed, everything disappeared behind the sound of the keys, and you carried yourself to a world where there was nothing but you and your piano. Where no harm could reach you. 

Me and my song. That's how you got through everything. As long as you had a piano, everything would be okay. 

When you were done, you glanced up at Jaehyun, studying him for a reaction. 

Jaehyun was all smiles. He was endlessly proud of you, clasping his hands together in applause when the performance ended. His heart was asking for an encore, and he knew you most likely wanted one yourself. He could see that you were truly at peace when you played, in a world of your own, at your happiest. 

“You’re the most talented player I've ever heard,” Jaehyun whispered sweetly. 

Heat filled your cheeks and you hid it with a roll of your eyes. “You’re only saying that because I’m your wife.”

Jaehyun took your hands in his palms again, kissing the back of your palm tenderly. “You are my talented wife, who I love very much.”

Your heart stopped. His wife. Who he loved. He loved you? You expected to be merely something he had to put up with, but Jaehyun had come to genuinely love you. To say nothing of yourself. This boy had swept you off of your feet in no time at all. 

“I love you too,” you whispered back, smiling so hard your cheeks hurt. Now that he had done such a thoughtful gesture, you loved him even more. 

Jaehyun saw the stars in your eyes and squeezed your hand. “Are you ready to go back to bed?”

“Yes,” you chirped with glee. 

Jaehyun hoisted you into his arms bridal style and you squealed in surprise, wreathing your arms around his neck while he carried you back to the bedchamber. 

You slept soundly after that. No screaming. No nightmares. 

As it turned out, his grandfather’s piano was the perfect countermeasure for your night terrors. You were dumbfounded that you actually managed to sleep through the whole night, well rested for the formal dinners and publicity appearances that came with being royalty.

For each of them, you clung flush to Jaehyun’s side, radiant. You didn’t speak unless spoken to. It was no question why you of all the women from a handpicked list were selected to become his wife. You had been cautiously groomed for the role, the pretty and obedient little thing meant to stand by the prince's side and carry his children. Especially his son.

Maybe it seemed demeaning, though you had no intention of making waves in the monarchy. You kept in step, rather than marched to the beat of your own drum. You were more than content to silently bathe in their luxuries and confide in your husband.

But it did get lonely.

One lazy afternoon, just after lunch, the king approached you and Jaehyun as the two of you were shooting the breeze in The Great Chamber. You noticed his father first and greeted him respectfully, “Good afternoon, Your Majesty.”

Jaehyun opted for a polite bow. 

The king motioned his head. “Good afternoon. I am only here to announce your mother-in-law and I’s departure. We will be traveling abroad on business for a couple of weeks. Your mother-in-law is already with an escort waiting outside the exit hall.”

That baffled Jaehyun. “Why the abrupt exit?”

“We have some affairs to attend to that couldn’t wait and we owe the prime minister a favor. We will return as briefly as possible.”

Jaehyun nodded. “Travel safely.”

“Of course. And son, the country is yours in our absence,” said the king. Then, he locked eyes with you. “Yours as well.”

You were stunned for a couple of seconds, but masked it well and replied demurely, “Yes, sir.”

The king bid each of you farewell individually then scurried to the exit hall with his wife to be chauffeured to their private charter. 

Jaehyun met your eyes with a mischievous smile and said when his parents were out of earshot, “Appears it’s just the two of us.”

“Mm-hm,” you hummed, amused by the amount of sheer mischief in his stare. “Just me, you, and the hundred other people that live in this palace.”

Jaehyun chuckled, lifted your wrist, and pressed a sweet kiss to the back of your hand. “What if I sent everybody home? You heard my father. I’m in charge.”

“I also very clearly heard him mention that I’m in charge too. And I don’t think that’s a very good idea. Who’s going to make the spoiled prince’s every meal three times a day, everyday?” 

“Fair point,” Jaehyun mumbled. “Do you really think that I’m spoiled?”

You replied without skipping a beat, “Rotten.”

“What a shame,” Jaehyun said. “Would it also be a shame if you came upstairs to spoil me some more?”

“Only if you didn’t spoil me back,” you replied tamely, but Jaehyun could see the unbridled lust in your eyes. It never lied to him. 

You two scurried through the halls like a pair of hormonal teenagers, staggering towards the elevator with dwindling patience and giggling the entire ride upstairs. 

When you came to bed that night after spending an undocumented amount of time playing Jaehyun the piano in what was once his grandfather’s bedchamber, he threw his big arms around your waist and drifted off to the view of your backside. 

But when you abruptly woke, he was nowhere to be found.

You sat up in a panic. He’s just using the bathroom. Yeah, that sounds about right, you consoled yourself. The clock stared back at you on the wall, and noting the time, you decided you would wait for him to return. 

Jaehyun never returned to his bedroom. You watched hours tick away at their own pace, but there was no sign of him. And in lieu of your husband’s soft snores, you only heard those familiar owls, feet dragging down the hall, and impatient ticking. 

Which was completely unnerving.

You didn’t get any sleep that night. Not until Jaehyun at last came back and worriedly asked why you looked as if you had just finished a twelve-hour shift in the dungeon. 

Choosing to ignore him, you snarled, “Where were you?”

Jaehyun’s eyes flickered. “Well, I was in the study. I had some late night affairs to attend to.”

“The king and queen are absent. Our royal activities have been suspended. There is nothing you could possibly need to take care of at four in the morning,” you pressed, arms folded. 

“Most of our royal activities have been temporarily suspended,” Jaehyun corrected with a swiftness. “Why do you think my father left us in control? The country never sleeps.”

You sulked, especially grumpy from the lack of sleep. 

Jaehyun watched you with surprise. Your grouchy, irritable attitude graveled him, because he couldn’t comprehend what he had done that was so wrong. “What’s gotten into you?”

You exhaled loudly. Maybe you were overreacting a little. Jaehyun did make a valid point, after all. Somebody still needed to nurse the country in the king and queen’s absence. “I’m sorry. You’re right. I’m being unreasonable,” you replied, unable to justify your cynicism. 

Not to mention you couldn’t think of a single other thing that Jaehyun could have been doing so early in the morning. It was a completely plausible excuse, whether you believed it or not. And it wasn’t as if Jaehyun had ever given you a reason to doubt him. 

But the feet dragging through the halls was the second most eerie sound you had ever heard, just after those evil owls that reminded you too much of gargoyles. You chalked it up to some staff members keeping guard on a late shift and gave it up. 

Jaehyun pried your stubborn hand away from your crossed arms and you let him. His touch was exactly what you needed to soothe your unease. “You look tired,” he commented. “Have you been sleeping?”

“No, I was waiting for you to come back,” you grumbled gruffly and stifled a yawn out of habit. It was unladylike, they said.

Jaehyun chuckled in amusement, but scolded, “You shouldn’t wait up for me. I’m a busy man and a princess needs her beauty sleep.”

“Maybe I feel safe when you’re next to me,” you mumbled under your breath, eyes fixed to his thumb rubbing circles at your wrist. 

“I’m never far from you, baby,” Jaehyun reassured you gently. “I’m always two steps behind you.”

“Behind me or ahead of me?”

“I’m omnipresent,” Jaehyun whispered and kissed your cheek sweetly. “You can play the piano. I can sing. Would you like for me to sing you a song?”

“Yes,” you replied without stopping to mull it over. 

Jaehyun told you to lie back down and you obeyed without a second thought, slipping under the blankets. You felt even warmer when he snaked his arms back around you and started to croon softly in your ears, voice tickling your neck and ultimately lulling you back to slumber. 

Whether or not he got back up after that was entirely unbeknownst to you. 

You slept so peacefully in Jaehyun’s embrace that you didn’t even rouse until afternoon, well after Jaehyun had slipped from bed and told you good morning, whispering something in your ear about how he had duties to attend to.

You, on the other hand, were cleared of any scheduling. Which gave you ample time to explore the gardens. 

Now sporting a pretty knee-length dress, you had some tea and toast as a makeshift breakfast and scuttled outside in quick, short strides. The grandiose garden was easily your favorite spot in the whole palace. You could get lost in its labyrinth of superbly pruned shrubs and terraces decked in flower petals. 

For lack of a better word, it was a humbling experience. It made you feel small to be isolated in such a huge garden. You may have been a princess, next in succession to the queen’s throne, but you were also just some girl in a world larger than you would ever know. 

You could prance around and gawk at pretty flowers day in and day out. It didn’t take much to keep you happy. But you rather liked company. 

When you noticed one of the gardeners you recognized tending to some blossoms, you chirped, “Hi, Giselle.”

Giselle greeted you very respectfully, curtsying at your presence. “Greetings, Your Royal Highness.”

“Oh, please,” you said, almost rolling your eyes. “You can call me by my name.”

“The king and queen wouldn’t approve of the informalities, ma’am.”

You didn’t really give a damn and waved her off, replying nonchalantly, “While that is true, the king and queen are not here, and it’s only the two of us in this garden. When we are alone, you may call me by my name and I will call you by yours.”

“If you insist,” Giselle replied, followed by your name. 

You smiled triumphantly. 

From your previous encounters and run-ins, you had already gathered that Giselle unfortunately wasn’t very much of a talker, though you couldn’t fault her. She did what she was told and minded the business that paid her. Literally. It would do her no good to kindle conflict in the monarchy. 

“These flowers are pretty,” you remarked absentmindedly. 

Giselle hummed. “They’re azaleas.”

“Elegance, temperance, and death,” you said knowledgeably, staring from the terrace. 

Which surprised Giselle. “Are you into flower symbolism?”

You shrugged. “I know a thing or two.”

“Hm.”

You pointed to some other flowers. They were very recognizable to you at this point. “Those are white roses. Purity, innocence, loyalty, and fresh beginnings. It’s no secret why they were scattered all over my wedding.”

“Secrecy and silence,” Giselle added offhandedly.

For a couple of seconds, that, metaphorically speaking, threw you off balance. “That too,” you said quietly.

Giselle said nothing. 

You considered making peace with the silence, but with your thoughts at daggers drawn with one another, you quickly accepted that wouldn’t be possible. Secrecy and silence. There was no doubt it suited the monarchs aptly. Sometimes you even wondered what you knew about Jaehyun, because he was ghastly private.

Maybe you weren’t the closest of married couples, but you knew enough. Jaehyun liked music and singing. He was introverted and quite shy, which was laughable when considering that he was soon to become king. He was calm and sensitive. Sensual, but reticent. 

Jaehyun already made clear he loved you. Maybe with time, he would show you his heart. 

Then, you had another thought. Secret, but not so much silent. “Hey, Giselle,” you called out. “Do you ever hear strange noises in the palace?”

“I don’t know what you mean. Everything is normal in the royal palace.”

You frowned. It hit you that you never asked Jaehyun if they bothered him. It was possible that growing up in the castle had numbed him. “I hear owls at night.” 

“That is because there are owls and they are nocturnal. We haven’t tried to get rid of them because they are helpful with the garden,” was all Giselle said. 

“Well, sure,” you mumbled, because it was an entirely logical explanation. “But what about the noises I hear in the hallway?”

“Some employees take late shifts to keep guard of the palace. They are merely monitoring the halls.”

That was what you told yourself, because it was completely reasonable. But something about this place gave you a bad gut feeling and left a bitter taste in your mouth. You couldn’t explain it, because it was just a hunch. 

“In all due respect, what you hear is elementary. Word of advice? Believe what I tell you now or get two hours of sleep at night later.”

You recoiled in surprise. “Excuse me?” 

Giselle turned around, glanced around for any watchful eyes, and made eye contact with you. She stepped onto the terrace and whispered, “I hear scratches in the walls and cries in the floorboards. You can rationalize footsteps in the hallway, but whimpers in the chamber? Not so easy. Convince yourself that it’s nothing while you still can.”

“If I have to convince myself that it’s nothing then that means there’s something,” you shot back, looking her plain in the eye. Which also meant there was something she wasn’t telling you. “What are you hiding?” 

Giselle wavered, hesitant. She wore it on her face. Her body language was screaming at you and you desperately wanted to know what it was saying. “You’re royalty,” she finally said after a moment. “You have lived lavishly your whole life without ever needing to worry about a thing. Maybe I envy what you have, but I’m not telling you this from a black heart when I say my woes are not yours.”

You didn’t bristle, but softened. She was opening up to you, and you knew there was more to this tangent of hers. 

“I come from a poor background and work here to provide for my household,” she said tamely, harboring no resentment whatsoever. She wasn’t the least bit vindictive. “Because of that, I can’t afford to poke my nose where it doesn’t belong. Even if it keeps me up at night.”

“The noises,” you said. “They keep you up at night?”

“Because of that piano,” Giselle grumbled under her breath. 

“What?”

Giselle pivoted and walked back to the plants, dismissing your concern. “I’ve already said too much. Please, mention this to nobody. But if you must, leave my name out.”

You nodded. “Off the record.”

Giselle smiled thinly. 

Backpedaling, you pointed to another shrubbery of flowers. “What are those?”

“Hydrangeas. They might seem high maintenance, but they are fairly easy to take care of. The queen loves them, so I give them some extra attention,” Giselle told you while hoisting a watering pot. 

You hummed. “Blue flowers.”

“Desire, love, and infinity,” Giselle sighed poignantly. 

For half an hour, you volunteered to help Giselle with her gardening duties before she shooed you away, claiming you had done enough of her responsibilities. You wandered in the garden still, lingering, just outside of Jaehyun’s bedchamber window.

When you glanced up, you saw him watching you fondly through the balcony screen, and waved him down with a beaming smile.

Jaehyun was downstairs in a flash, sporting chinos and a casual blazer. He looked very handsome, which was nothing new for him. Plus with his pretty brown eyes and adorable dimples that were both impossible to not get lost in, you had to will yourself not to swoon.

“Hi,” you greeted. 

“Hi,” Jaehyun replied, mirroring you. Except he leaned in to snake his arms just below your ribs and kissed the corner of your mouth. 

You smiled at his affections, though they had disarmed you a long time ago. His ability to unsettle you when he was gone but soothe you when he touched you was to be studied. “How has your day been so far?”

Jaehyun groaned. “Next subject.”

That got a chuckle out of you. Being the ruler of a country was no easy feat, but if there was anybody fitted for the role, it was Jaehyun. “Hopefully your parents haven’t left you with too much trouble.”

Jaehyun shrugged his shoulders. “I want to relax. You look like you’re having fun.”

“Something like that.” 

You decided against confiding in him about the reality of your day thus far. Not because you didn’t trust him, but because you weren’t sure of anything yourself. Giselle had mentioned something about the piano he had gifted you. Jaehyun might have been your best bet at knowing what she meant, but you needed to do a little more investigating before you got him involved. 

Now that you had another person’s opinion, you could say with total confidence that you weren’t crazy. There was something spooky going on in the monarchy and you wanted to know what. 

For now, you would shove the thought to a corner in the back of your mind. Days at the palace were full of whimsical fun. The nights were terrifying. 

Speaking of whimsical fun, Jaehyun spoke up and asked, “Do you want to ride the ferry with me?”

That caught your attention. “Ferry?”

“Yeah. There’s a huge lake down this path and we have a mini ferry that travels from one end to the other. You interested?”

“Sign me up,” you exclaimed enthusiastically. 

Getting a hold of your hand, Jaehyun walked you through the courtyard to the wooden dock at the top of the lake. Unsurprisingly, it had a decorated roofed patio with a lounging nook to wait for the vessel to return.

Fortunately for you, it was already waiting at the dock, unoccupied save for the captain Jaehyun had called up during your relaxed walk to the boating site. 

Jaehyun helped you aboard, having done this more times than he cared to admit. When you were safely secured on the tiny ferry, you thanked him for being a gentleman and watched him climb aboard himself. 

The captain exited the wheelhouse. “Once to and from, Your Royal Highness?”

“Make it twice. We have time to waste,” said Jaehyun, looking at you with all the affections a man could possess. 

Shortly afterwards, you started moving. You stood beside Jaehyun and gripped the railing, watching the water splash beneath the boat. This place was beautiful, no doubt. Your choice to get married in the garden was unregretted. 

Eerily beautiful, you thought. Though you loved the garden, there were a couple of places you avoided. Mainly the ones that made appearances in your nightmares, like the shed. 

The silence was comfortable, both you and Jaehyun soaking in the view, but you broke it to say, “You’re an only child.”

“I guess you could say that.”

You gave him a look. “What do you mean?” 

Jaehyun shook his head, dismissive. “Nothing. Keep talking.”

You were curious, wanting to know all there was on this boy, but let it go for his sake. “Doesn’t it get lonely - alone in this big palace? Your parents are busy nurturing the country like it’s their own child.”

Jaehyun didn’t show a single fucking emotion on his face, though that was far from shocking by now. When it was time to get personal, he became the iciest man you knew. His cold indifference somehow burned you.

You grimaced when you saw his face. “Sorry if I crossed a line.”

“No, it’s okay,” Jaehyun replied, giving you a reassuring kiss to the cheek. “I was lonely before I met you. No siblings. Few people I could trust. When I was young, I learned rather quickly that life is a game of survival. You can never be too sure who’s friend or foe.”

You listened attentively, nestling closer to his chest. 

“I was taught to be my own guard, in a way. And there’s nobody to blame but myself for chasing away everybody who tries to get close. But then you came,” Jaehyun said, smiling at you adoringly. “And there was an instant connection. I think I saw pieces of myself inside of you.”

“You did?”

Jaehyun bobbed his head. “Yeah. Some people see this meek, demure princess, but I see the woman that almost cooked my ass when I wasn’t tucked into bed with her,” he joked, getting a laugh out of you. 

You giggled. 

Jaehyun was smiling like an idiot. It was cute and wholesome. “On a serious note, I see somebody strong and assertive. Somebody who’s not afraid to fight for what they want, even if it means going through hell and back. Somebody unbroken and undeterred.”

“Mm-hm. And you liked that,” you hummed, giving him a hooded stare. 

“You have no idea,” Jaehyun purred before leaning in to smash his lips against yours.

You giggled into his mouth. Your heart skipped a beat or two when Jaehyun kissed you, tempted to leap into the palm of his hands where she belonged. The Jaehyun you had come to know was a romantic and there was nothing more romantic than making out with your lover on a beautiful ferry ride. 

Except for making love with your lover below a beautiful ferry ride. 

“Below deck,” Jaehyun murmured in your ear, delicately slipping his hands from your waist to lace his fingers through yours. You didn’t hesitate to follow him through the little hall, coming out in a bedroom at its very end. 

You hardly even got to stand long enough to take note of your surroundings before Jaehyun hoisted you up and threw you against the silk sheets. You cried out in shock. Jaehyun had taken you more times than you bothered to count, but you were in awe at how rough the prince got when it came to sex.

When Jaehyun crept over you, staring at you with a blend of awe and unbridled lust in those pretty brown eyes of his, you combed your fingers through his dark hair and drew his mouth to yours again. 

You could hear your heart thudding in your ears as you kissed him slowly. Your lips only knew each other and you could taste the ecstasy on the tip of your tongue. To say nothing of the touches. While you were fisting his hair, Jaehyun stripped you naked, tossing your dress and groping your perfect breasts. 

Jaehyun was warm to the touch, but his fingers never failed to make you shiver. “I love the way your lips feel,” you confessed when he separated from your mouth. 

Only to kiss his way down your stomach, lips gentle and tender. Jaehyun cocked you a glance and grinned. “And what about my dick?”

“Don’t ask stupid questions. I love your dick, duh, but that’s a different conversation deserving of its own speech. Particularly a long-winded one with a very heartfelt peroration at the climax.”

Jaehyun’s head bobbed as he snickered at the thought, before teasing, “Well, we have the Great Chamber for that when you’re ready. Feel free.”

Your laughter rang out in the little bedroom. Then, Jaehyun switched on a dime, dragging your legs towards the edge of the bed before spreading them apart like jelly and burying his face between your thighs. 

Every time Jaehyun took you to bed, you remembered the first night of your honeymoon. When he took you to a cabin in the woods in April’s spring, flipped you over, and made you cry for all the forest to hear. By day, you watched nature and waltzed to his many vinyls, and by night, you made love for hours. 

And to think that was only a month ago. You felt as if you’d loved Jaehyun for years.

Jaehyun ate you out until you came undone at the mercy of his brutal tongue, clamping his palms at your thighs while you convulsed and shuddered, and undulated. Fuck, he knew your body too well. You arched off the bed one final time then slumped down, defeated.

You gawked in disbelief while he watched you scramble for breath with a cocked brow. Your body’s capacity for pleasure knew no bounds when Jaehyun was the one pleasing you. “Ready to take my cock?” he asked, excitement nipping sharply in his chest at the thought of ruining you.

You nodded your head almost instantly. Your lack of patience was written all over you and you wanted him. Right now.

Jaehyun’s hands were quick to reach for his cock, steering himself skillfully to bury himself inside of your pussy. A wet sound filled the air when he sank inside and you instantly moaned his name as though it was an instinct. 

You drove Jaehyun mad when you called out his name like that; with pining and desperation, and everything in between. Heaven had brought you to him and fate would keep you by his side until the very end. 

“Jay,” came your airy voice. Just being filled with your husband’s cock made you feel like you were elevating, ascending into the air. 

Your sounds were euphoric and drove Jaehyun to the very brink of madness, and with the last of his restraint gone, he was impelled to move at long last, thrusting into you at a leisurely yet hard pace. He lowered his face to meet yours, lips locked in a wet smack. You were skin to skin, your stiff nipples pressed against his bare chest. 

Every moment was as special as the first. As a woman groomed to become a figure of importance, you were raised to remain chaste until marriage. And the day you exchanged vows with Jaehyun, he made your whole body shudder. 

“God is a woman,” Jaehyun rasped, heart racing so quickly it might have burst. You were warm all over and his hands roamed every nook of your body, every curve. 

Even though you wanted to laugh, all that came from your mouth was a breathless moan. Moments like these where you knew nothing but Jaehyun, scooped into his strong arms, you couldn’t help but realize how lucky you were. Not a second went by where you took him for granted.

Things could’ve been different. Jaehyun could have been an insufferable spoiled prick that acted entitled to his wife, but he was far from the visions of him you saw in your nightmares. You were grateful to be married to a man that both respected you and valued your happiness. 

You locked your legs around him, pulling him into you deeper, and kissed him until the two of you were gasping for air. “You get me so wet, Jay,” you whispered, tangling your fingers through his head.

At those words, Jaehyun released an animalistic growl, so aroused you thought he might break. His thoughts revolved solely around you. How much like poison you were. How outrageously perfect you were. Head to toe. 

You beamed with pride, pleased to have such a dangerous effect on your husband. The two of you meeting each other was mutually assured destruction. Nothing had been the same since Jaehyun laid eyes on you. When he saw you for the first time, he knew that he had to have you. 

While your body rocked from the sheer force of Jaehyun’s thrusts, the boat gently thrashed in the water. Your breasts bounced and the sight had made Jaehyun lose what was left of his mind. One day, in the none too distant future, they would be swollen with milk and Jaehyun imagined you carrying his children. 

That thought alone could have finished him. He thought of it every time he fucked you full of cum, pumping his load inside of you rough and deep, just the way you begged for him to. Watching your belly swell with your shared child would do unspeakable things to Jaehyun’s psyche. 

Part of you drowned out the sounds of the water splattering against the boat in favor of listening to Jaehyun’s relentless groans. Your husband always had a flair for the romantic. Hopelessly, he used to think, until he met you. 

Staring up at Jaehyun, you were bewitched by the gentle gracefulness of his features, especially as they tensed with unbridled pleasure. “Can I tell you something?” you asked. 

Jaehyun nodded his head. “Anything,” he whispered. 

“You smell so good.”

Jaehyun’s laughter rang out in your ears. The sight and sound brought a smile to your face. You didn’t know anyone with a more perfect laugh and you would give anything to see it again. “That’s so random.”

“But true,” you added, inhaling his scent the closer he got to your naked chest. There was hardly any space between you two at all. 

Jaehyun was all smiling from ear to ear. “Can I tell you something?”

“Always.”

Jaehyun leaned into your ear, deepening his voice to a breathtaking whisper, “You’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen.”

Your heart stopped. There was something about his voice tickling your earlobe that made you gush and tighten around his cock. After searching for the ability to speak, you replied, “Funny. I feel the same way about you.”

Jaehyun chuckled deeply and you swore you became lightheaded. “Yeah?”

“Can I tell you one more thing?”

“Go for it.”

“I’m about to cum,” you told him, climax threatening to rip you apart. 

“I’m gonna make you cum,” Jaehyun said, voice dark with determination. You gasped when his fingers sank to your clit and his thumb teased your bundle of nerves. 

Heat swallowed you whole. You couldn’t process all of the sensations that your body was experiencing all at once. A scream came out of your mouth and Jaehyun stifled them with his palm as you trembled with orgasm, cursing the stars. 

Jaehyun didn’t stop fucking until he was certain that you couldn’t take anymore. You went round after round, fisting the sticky sheets, grateful that he chose to take two trips across the lake. You had time to kill. 

Your body was worn and utterly spent when Jaehyun was finished with you. You fell slack against the sheets, unable to move your stiff limbs. Given that Jaehyun was left with more than a handful of responsibilities, it should’ve come to you as no shock that he took his stress out on you.

And you were more than eager to let him. When Jaehyun made love to you, the power he wielded over you was endless. Your body was seized by him and your heart was his on a platter. 

“I love you,” Jaehyun whispered deeply in your ear. It was enough to drive any woman mad. You were too breathless to say anything back, chest undulating. 

For a couple of moments neither of you could hardly move and you stayed nestled into each other’s side till you regained the strength to hunt for your tossed clothes. Flush against Jaehyun’s skin, the sexual tension still lingered, and he was overwhelmingly aware of how naked you were. 

After quickly redressing yourselves, you just sat on the bed for a little longer, feeling the boat still sway and knowing you weren’t back home. Jaehyun’s hand was flat against your backside, never letting you forget that he was at your side. 

You tried to fend off some wandering thoughts, but your curiosity got the better of you and you surrendered to your need to know. “Jaehyun, I have something to tell you.”

Your tone was not lost on him. “It sounds serious.”

“Yeah, kind of,” you replied, swallowing the taste in your throat that made you nauseous. “It’s about my dreams. It’s not just the owl noises. I think there’s something else going on.”

Jaehyun’s brows were furrowed. “Like what?”

There was a lump in your throat. After you confided in him about your doubts and suspicions, there was no going back. “Like the piano,” you said, unsure of yourself. 

Jaehyun’s demeanor shifted suddenly, aggressively. He went from cool and collected to stern on a dime, chastising, “Stop looking.”

His tone affronted you. “Excuse me?”

“It’s for your own safety. You need not to worry your pretty little head.”

Narrowing your eyes, you pressed, “So there is something going on that you’re not telling me.”

Jaehyun exhaled a heavy breath, smoothing a hand through his hair. “Promise me you’ll stop prying. This is serious. I will tell you everything that you need to know when it’s time.”

“Jaehyun, you know I can’t promise that,” you whispered. 

“Please,” Jaehyun said, eyes glistening. 

God, he was begging you? It had to have been serious. You couldn’t fathom him pleading for you not to investigate otherwise. But rather than discourage you, it only intensified your will to get to the bottom of the matter. 

Massaging your temple, you sighed, “Okay. Pinky promise.”

You giggled when Jaehyun interlocked his pinky finger with yours, but you weren’t certain how long you would be capable of keeping that promise. 

Soon after your confession, the captain signaled that the boat had returned to the dock. Jaehyun led you back through the narrow hallway with your hand in his, as if nothing had happened. 

The sex. The little divulgence that followed. He’s way too naturally gifted at slipping back into this royal character, you realized. In a way, you already knew that. Jaehyun could fuck the daylights out of you then smile and wave at the media as if he was their innocent successor to the throne.

Though this was different. Jaehyun obviously had no intention of letting you know exactly what he was hiding any time soon. And if he thought you would just sit around and wait for answers, he had severely underestimated you just like every other man in this country. 

Something unforgivably dark and sinister was happening. That was undeniable. You just needed to find out what.

Hours came and went, as did people. Jaehyun was right, you supposed. The country never slept. The palace alone was bustling with life at all times. 

Which made you think. If both you and Giselle were apprehensive of the obvious skeletons the monarchy had in its closet, there was no way you were alone. Somebody else had to know something. Somebody with just as much to lose. 

You just had to play your cards right. Giselle didn’t lie when she said that she had a lot more at stake than you. Even if the royal family abandoned you for whatever reason, you had the safety net of your own wealthy family to fall back on. Not everybody was as fortunate. 

When the sun set below the horizon, Jaehyun accompanied you to his grandfather’s bedchamber, though only because you didn’t want him to grow suspicious. The piano was the only way to bulldoze your ceaseless thoughts. You were lost in your own head. 

“I love you, Jaehyun,” you told him out of nowhere.

Jaehyun looked pleasantly surprised. It wasn’t often you confessed your affections. “Where’s this coming from?”

Your mind wandered back to earlier. Though you weren’t happy about him brushing off your concerns, your heart couldn’t deny the way it thumped for him. “I never said it back. And you didn’t make me.”

“Because I already know.”

You blew out a breath. Your heart told you not to risk losing his trust, but your mind was screaming that he was keeping something from you. Days ago, you would’ve been more than content with submissively obeying your husband’s commands. 

But peace had never been an option. 

It wasn’t long before you crept into bed with each other. You slept peacefully and uninterrupted by any nightmares. Again. 

Breakfast was spent together as always. Now that his parents had left the two of you in charge, it was often the only time you had available in the mornings to share. 

Any other morning, you would complain, but you were waiting with bated breath for the opportunity to get away and sneak around like a thief in the night. You weren’t keen on lying to Jaehyun, but he would just have to understand the rationale. You couldn’t keep living antsily. 

You spread some butter on your toast and asked, “Would you like to visit the markets with me this afternoon?”

Jaehyun frowned. Had he not been so busy, he would’ve done whatever you wanted. You wondered why your schedule was so clear, because when Jaehyun was preoccupied, half the time so were you. “I would love to, but the committee needs my opinion on some political stuff.”

Your tone was disappointed, “Political stuff?” 

Jaehyun nodded. He seemed to have fallen for it somehow. “I won’t bore you with the details.”

“Well, I won’t keep you, then,” you said, taking a sip of steaming hot coffee. Jaehyun had made it for you just the way he knew that you liked it. 

“Are you trying to get rid of me? I’m not expected to be present for another fifteen minutes.” Jaehyun’s tone was light, but the accusation made your heart beat faster.

Donning your most innocent voice, you assured him, “Of course not. I just know how much you like to be punctual.”

“That is true,” Jaehyun muttered. 

Ironically, the hours seemed to drag on, because you couldn’t wait for Jaehyun to leave for once. The second he was finally far out of your vicinity you discarded your leftovers and prepared yourself for the grueling task ahead of you. 

Only when you emerged from the dining hall and set out on your little exploit did it occur to you that you didn’t have even the slightest clue who to ask. A couple of servants had been around quite longer than others, yet they were dreadfully tight-lipped. But for good reason. 

Bumping into a younger one, you exclaimed, “Oh, good heavens! Pardon me, Mr. Kim.”

Jungwoo bowed gracefully and replied, “No, I apologize, Your Highness. I’ll pay closer attention.”

“It’s fine. I’ve been out of it since I got out of bed with Jaehyun,” you confessed, flashing a courteous smile. 

To your surprise, Jungwoo threw you a baffled glance. “You share a bed with the prince?”

“Yes, he is my husband. Is that odd?”

“I’m surprised. It goes against tradition. The king and queen have always had separate bedrooms,” Jungwoo told you, scratching the back of his neck. 

That was news. Though given how secretive these people were, everything was news to you. “I didn’t know that.”

Jungwoo rifled through his pockets for a spare key, pressing it into a lock on a nearby door as he rambled, “I wouldn’t either, but my dad worked here. And my granddad. With their debts, they passed down useless knowledge.”

Your interest was quickly piqued. Maybe you didn’t need to take your chances with an older worker after all. Jungwoo, way more affable and approachable, bore the knowledge of generations. “No knowledge is useless.”

“Yeah, maybe, but it’s not exactly power,” Jungwoo said, grabbing some items out of a utility closet.

“What do you mean?”

You watched Jungwoo shut the door and promptly lock it behind himself. “There are some things it’s better you don’t know, ma’am.”

“I’m sick of other people telling me what’s best for me,” you grumbled irritably. “I already know about the piano. Well, kind of.”

Jungwoo’s entire attitude flipped on a dime. Glancing across the hallway twice as if he was preparing to cross a road, he dropped his items on a cart and spoke softly, “Follow me.”

Obviously, you were confused, but you didn’t dare disobey. This might’ve been your only chance at getting closer to the truth.

Jungwoo led you to a door hidden behind the stairway with a big sign warding off intruders, though it was locked, as to be expected. This family apparently couldn’t afford to take any chances. With what, you had no clue. 

Strangely enough, Jungwoo had a key and wheeled his cart inside of the room after it clicked open. You curiously trailed behind him once he locked it behind you, wanting to know all there was to learn about this place.

There was a chain to your right and Jungwoo tugged on it, watching the lights barely flicker on. It was dim and empty, and though it was a test of your willpower, you fought off your nerves and remained unbroken. 

Narrowing into a hallway, the entrance seemed to go on for a hundred miles and a half. Your footsteps bounced off every wall and the sound made you nervous. Of course, Jungwoo would never in his life knowingly lead you astray and you chose to have faith in the belief that he’d never bring you straight to danger. 

But it made you wonder. If you recalled correctly, Giselle mentioned something about scratching in the walls. Your understanding of architecture was limited, but this place had to be built in between other parts of the castle. 

Weird, you whispered to yourself, rubbing your arms. It seemed that the deeper you went down this hallway, the colder the air got. 

“Watch your step. It’s creaky,” Jungwoo warned, leaving his cart in the hall. You glanced around him to see what he was talking about and that was when you noticed another set of stairs.

You shook your head and cursed, “Pardon my language, but Jesus Christ - how deep does this shit go?”

Jungwoo chuckled. “Too deep, ma’am.”

You had no strength to tell him to drop the titles. This was a few conversations far from your first encounter with Jungwoo and he respectfully declined each of your suggestions for him to call you by your name. 

The floorboards did indeed creak as you stepped down them and the sound couldn’t have been any more unnerving. You appreciated Jungwoo dutifully walking in front of you as if he was defending you with his life. Not that there was anything down here to jump out and get you. 

You hoped. 

Whatever disaster of a room that you just walked inside of was far from what you expected this staircase to lead to, though you weren’t too sure. At the end of the seemingly never-ending hallway was nothing but a pile of junk. If you were being frank, it looked like a bunch of hungry wild animals had a field day. Things had been tossed. Almost as if a fight of some kind had unraveled here. 

It was a hot mess. The place looked a solid minute away from crumbling in on itself, and that was you being generous. Your arm hairs were standing at attention now. You took one good look at the barrels just shy of you, noted the temperature, and pieced together why. 

“It’s… a cellar,” you said, noticeably disappointed. 

“It was a cellar,” Jungwoo told you, glancing around and wrinkling his nose. “This room hasn’t been used for at least a decade.”

Voice dripping with sarcasm, you deadpanned, “You don’t say.”

“Oh, I say.”

Your lips parted and the room echoed with your laughter. You were very grateful that Jungwoo made you laugh, because it helped you forget how anxious everything about your surroundings made you. “Why?”

Jungwoo outwardly processed every emotion and confusion was the most expressive of the plenty. “Pardon?”

“Why did you bring me here?”

Jungwoo stepped forward, inspecting the walls as if he was checking for damages. And there were many. “Because I have something to tell you that I can tell nobody,” Jungwoo said, his usually chipper tone borderline stern. “But first I need you to tell me what you know.”

Those weren’t exactly inviting words, but it was Jungwoo. You could trust him. Or maybe you wanted to, at least, but you couldn’t even trust Jaehyun. You confessed, “Assuming you mean the piano, it’s nothing much. But I know it’s connected. To the sounds I hear at night, I mean.”

“Oh, the walking. And the whispers,” Jungwoo said like it was the most normal thing in the world. 

You shook your head in disappointment. You weren’t fucking crazy and Jaehyun’s family wasn’t going to trick you into thinking that you were. “I knew I wasn’t the only one.”

Jungwoo’s tone was only slightly accusatory, “Jaehyun doesn’t know that you’re investigating.”

You frowned. He was a little too good at this. “You didn’t phrase that like a question.”

“There’s no way that he would let you get this close.”

“It’s been justified,” you huffed, irritated. All this secrecy and suspense was killing you. You just wanted to get to the heart of… whatever.  

Skeptical, Jungwoo’s head was tilted. His loyalty was in you, but also the heir. “Has it?”

You donned your most assertive voice and reasoned, “Jaehyun is obviously keeping something from me. Things that keep me up at night for hours. I refuse to continue my life in such a manner. It’s an eye for an eye.”

Jungwoo listened to your rant and agreed that your actions were justified. Thus he would be keeping this between the two of you. With a nod, Jungwoo replied, “Okay, I understand.”

You nodded. “Good.”

“But I also understand the prince.”

Your eyes darted to Jungwoo. 

Before you could part your lips to speak, Jungwoo added, “Because once you know the truth, it spreads and festers like a wildfire. If you let it, it can consume you. That’s why I hate that you know this.”

“I don’t know anything,” you grumbled. 

“Jaehyun’s grandfather used to own that piano in his bedchamber,” Jungwoo started, passing down what only moments ago he thought was useless info. 

“Yes, I know. Jaehyun told me.”

“Yeah, well, his grandfather was extremely territorial with the piano,” Jungwoo said hesitantly. “If there was a problem, he cleaned it himself. Mended it himself.”

You were yet to understand what that had to do with anything. “Sounds like he just didn’t want anybody touching his stuff.”

“That’s what my dad thought, but apparently anybody who touched it either died mysteriously or disappeared without a trace soon after.”

Your expression shifted from confused to painfully perplexed. “That’s foolish.”

“I told you that my father worked here. He thought it was rubbish. Then, one day after leaving to clean that very bedchamber, he never came back home,” Jungwoo said, willing himself to keep it together. After so many years, grief was a nonfactor. Despair was channeled into anger.

“Jungwoo…,” you trailed, choosing your words carefully. You knew what it was like to lose somebody. “Are you sure?”

Jungwoo’s eyes were sharper than you had ever seen them. You never knew such an easy-going guy was harboring so much pain. “I’ve been told that because I’m grieving a loss, I’ll believe anything for closure. I don’t agree. There’s something fishy going on and unlike the others, I’m not afraid to admit it to myself.”

“This is a lot,” you told him. 

Jungwoo nodded, wholly aware. “True, but it doesn’t stop there. Did you know that Jaehyun had an older brother?”

Your shoulders stiffened, because you recalled mentioning that Jaehyun was an only child yesterday, and he became deflective. “No, I didn’t.”

“Yeah, four years older. Apparently, he died after falling out of a window.”

You grimaced. “He commited suicide?”

“So the story goes,” Jungwoo answered, but his tone said loud and clear that he didn’t buy it for one goddamn minute. “And get this - he fell from the window of his grandfather’s bedchamber.”

Scratching the back of your head, you asked skeptically, “How come the public didn’t know about the first-born son?”

Jungwoo snorted. “I had a feeling that you would ask. The royal family waits five years before announcing the birth of their children. Isn’t that convenient?”

“Almost too convenient,” you mumbled under your breath. If Jaehyun’s older brother died just shy of five years old, that would’ve simplified the process of covering up his death. 

Jungwoo glanced over at you, aching. And maybe a little desperate. “Do you believe me?”

A tiny sigh escaped your mouth and you planted your palm on your forehead, overwhelmed by the load of information that was just dumped on you and unsure what to do with its weight. “If what you’re saying is true, this is dangerous,” you replied levelly. 

Jungwoo huffed, “You’re telling me.”

“But Jaehyun and I have touched the piano on several occasions. I play it every night just so that I don’t have to hear those godawful noises,” you added, hesitating. “Shouldn’t I be dying?”

Jungwoo fell silent for a sudden, mulling something over. Then, he said quietly, “There is another possibility...”

“What?”

“Perpetuity,” was Jungwoo’s response, voice quieting even though only you were there to hear him. “This one I’m not so sure of. The rumor is that if you touch the piano, you meet one of two fates. Death at your hand, or being condemned to your worst nightmare. It sounds like bullshit.”

His confidence seemed to waver, but you were interested. You were driven by a determination to discover all there was to know about this godforsaken place. “How exactly is one condemned to their own nightmare?”

“Your deepest fear will become your ultimate fate,” Jungwoo explained, wrapping his arms around his torso. “Your worst nightmare will come to life. And you’ll live it everyday until you die.”

You devolved into nipping cold shudders. And it had little to nothing to do with the basically subzero temperature of the room that you occupied. Of course, Jungwoo didn’t mean literal nightmares, but it didn’t help that not too long ago you were being haunted by bad dreams. 

Your worst fear was living the same day for the rest of your life. Adventure was your natural instinct and curiosity was your vice. It’s what you stood for and a part of yourself that you refused to negotiate. You could’ve had every dollar that the world had to offer, but you would never gamble away your freedom. 

Thankfully, this life gave you more than enough. So what you were expected to be beautiful and ladylike when people had their eyes fixed to you. Did it matter? That didn’t change that when there was nobody there to judge you, you were liberated. 

Because it had always been that way, ever since you were a kid. You knew that to some people your existence served one purpose. And you didn’t care. You got to be yourself in the solace of this gigantic palace. 

At least for now. Freedom came with a sacrifice; your own sanity and peace of mind. And truth be told, you weren’t sure if it was a fair trade. 

“I’ve been having these dreams,” you started, swallowing. 

“What kind of dreams?”

“Bad ones,” you confessed, wanting to curl into yourself. Those dreams put the fear of god into you. “When the noises weren’t keeping me awake, these nightmares would take their turn. Jaehyun hunted me down in all of them. And I would wake up after he catches me.”

Jungwoo noticed that your voice was a little shaky and offered you a compassionate hand squeeze, saying, “It’s okay. They’re not real. Jaehyun wouldn’t hurt you.”

“I know, but…,” you trailed. “I had them repeatedly. Same dream, different night. The only other difference was that they would happen in another place. But they stopped after Jaehyun started taking me to play the piano before bed.”

Jungwoo stiffened. “That’s… convenient.” Like a lot of things here. 

“I know,” you agreed, shaking your head. Just the thought of Jaehyun was making you tremble with anger. You knew he was secretive, but it felt like he was borderline lying to you. 

Then again, Jaehyun didn’t deny that there was something that he was keeping from you. Instead of telling you cheap excuses of consolations, he admitted that there was something grave enough he couldn’t even confide in you about it. And you didn’t know if that was worse. 

Things were beginning to appear increasingly more eerie. “Do you want to know why I took you down here?” Jungwoo asked quietly.

Bobbing your head, you shifted to give Jungwoo your undivided attention. Something about the vibes of this room put you off. You didn’t like it. You could sense that something heinous had occurred maybe in the very spot that you stood. 

“The prince’s grandfather spent a lot of time down here.”

“Really?”

Jungwoo nodded. “Apparently, he flipped out one day and trashed the whole place. It happened a few days before he passed, so the story goes. Then, they relocated the cellar and closed this room off.”

That explains the mess, you thought to yourself. But not much else.  “Why would they do that?”

“Like hell I know,” Jungwoo replied with a shrug of his shoulders. “My bet is that they’re hiding something. Which we already knew, but I get lost every time I try to figure out what it is exactly.”

“You aren’t the only one,” you droned, releasing a pained breath. 

Jungwoo mustered a smile, but it was thin. “Well, if it’s quite alright, I would like to return to my duties, Your Highness.”

“Yes, of course. Thank you for everything. You’ve been a great help,” you said, bowing respectfully in gratitude. 

Jungwoo mirrored your movement. “It’s been a pleasure,” he told you sweetly. “I can’t skip out on my daily responsibilities, but if you ever need me, say the word and I’ll come.”

After thanking Jungwoo again and him assuring you that you weren’t in any way indebted to him, you trailed him up the creaky stairs and headed your own separate ways.

The brightness of the hallway compared to the lifeless cellar made you squint your eyes and wobble towards the edge of the stairs as you took a moment to readjust. Your brain also needed a second to process the newfound information. Now you had more answers, but twice as many questions. 

Maybe Jungwoo was right. Maybe knowledge wasn’t power; it was a burden. But you were already in too deep to quit looking. 

Jaehyun was too preoccupied to accompany you to his grandfather’s former bedchamber tonight and thus you opted out of the visit altogether. Of course, you knew what would inevitably happen if you didn’t press those keys, but you had an aggressive curiosity to sate.

The piano and your dreams were related. You knew that now. But if one of the piano’s unpredictable fates was to prolong its victims' agony, how come it abated yours instead?

For half a second, you wondered if Jungwoo was really telling the truth. You wanted to believe him, you really did, but something came to you and whispered not to trust anyone. 

Not even Jaehyun. Hell, especially not Jaehyun. 

Pulling the blankets over his thighs, Jaehyun glanced over to you as he crawled into bed and asked, “Did you have a good day without me?”

“It was long without you,” you replied, plopping a glass of water at your bedside in case you got thirsty. 

“I’m sure. What did you do?”

“A little bit of everything. I had the most wonderful dinner. I only wish you could’ve stuck around for dessert. The chef said he misses cooking in front of you.” It was only partly a lie. Your weakened appetite wouldn’t allow you to eat in spite of the full-course meals prepped for you. 

Jaehyun was smiling at some passing memories of him tagging along with you to aggravate the chef with curious banter. Though you mainly did all of the talking. “That’s good,” he said, chuckling quietly in amusement. “Tell him that I’m sorry I wasn’t there to hush you.”

Rolling your eyes, you grumbled, “Whatever.”

Jaehyun's infectious laughter filled your ears again. “Goodnight,” he whispered, leaning in to press a kiss to your brow.

“Goodnight,” you said back, releasing a shaky breath. For all of a second, you forgot that you were mad at him. His arms felt safe. Like home. 

This is your home now. A cool shudder wrecked through you. How Jaehyun could feel so dangerous but so inviting all at once was beyond you. 

You sank to your bloodied knees, unable to withstand the cramp shooting its way up your calves. Your tireless sprinting left you with just enough strength to crawl behind a door, thanking god that it was unlocked and quietly pushing it closed. 

The space was completely silent, save for your labored breaths that you endeavored to suppress. Jaehyun couldn’t have been too far. It was a blessing that you even managed to escape him.

For now. Something told you that he wouldn’t give up so easily.

Pure darkness suffocated you with its chokehold. You glanced up and searched desperately for a light source. Your surroundings were virtually invisible. Propping your hands on the door, you pushed yourself off of the floor and groped the wall for a light, finding a chain and tugging it impatiently.

It took a couple of tries for the lights to flicker on. The space around you was hardly any less dim, but at the very least, you could make out where you were.

“Darling, come back,” called out Jaehyun’s featherlight voice just outside of the door. “Let’s just talk. All I want is to talk.”

He was closing in. You never realized your heart could thump at this quick of a rhythm. You never imagined the day where you would be terrified for your life. Your eyes winced in pain as you moved along the cracked wall, but you couldn’t stop. 

Shivers tensed your entire body as you descended down the hallway. Bare feet hit the cold naked floor, because you opted out of running in heels minutes earlier. 

Jaehyun’s footsteps came louder, closer. You swore quietly to yourself, realizing that the lights might’ve shone under the door and given you away. But the harder you tried to move, groping the wall for purchase, the more tempted you were to cry out in excruciating pain. 

And then the worst happened. The door opened, a fraction of outdoor light stretching down the hallway to where you stood. 

Your heart screamed in panic and alarm. Fear was merciless. None of this was fair. Jaehyun could give chase for hours, and he would if it came down to it, but you were running on empty. 

“Baby, I know you’re in there,” Jaehyun called out gently, yet menacingly altogether. 

It took everything in you not to mutter, “Fuck,” under your breath as you tried to get further and further away from him, hoping and wishing that he wouldn’t follow you if you were quiet enough.

Taking in one deep inhale, you tried to stabilize your breathing, but after running halfway across the palace, your work was cut out for you. You walked inch by inch, careful with your motions in case your injured legs misstepped and you came to the ground with a resounding thud, and moved as soundlessly as you could. 

To your shock, you came across a stairway. In spite of how strangely familiar it seemed, you didn’t know where it would take you, but there was absolutely no way in hell that you were turning back.

 It was only down from here. 

Except there was a problem. The stairs had no railing and you didn’t trust yourself to feel your way through without tumbling down to your doom. You dropped to the floor again, putting your back to wherever the stairs led, and began to descend. 

Jaehyun’s footsteps let you know he was still there, easing his way down the dark hallway. You didn’t understand why he walked so leisurely, taking his time to capture you. Almost like he knew you wouldn’t get far either way. 

Your feet passed one stair at a time, cautious. You didn’t want to make any noise, but that ship sailed when one of the stairs creaked loudly. They reacted unfavorably to too much pressure, whining in response. 

Panic made your blood thump in your ear and you hoped that Jaehyun didn’t hear, but you gave up on that when he said, “Darling, I can hear you.”

With all hope gone, you scurried down the stairs, ceasing to care about how safely you got there as long as you still made it alive in the end. You didn’t focus on breathing. Only on getting the fuck out of here.

You kept glancing up the stairs just to make sure Jaehyun wasn’t too near until your foot touched a different cool surface and you knew you were at the bottom. When you turned around though, your terror only intensified. 

There was no place for you to go. Nowhere for you to run. There were no other paths for you to take because the room was a dead end. 

“Give up, baby,” Jaehyun said, finally at the top of the stairs. He was coming down, slowly but surely, and he was going to take you. “I’ve got you. There’s nowhere else for you to run.”

With every step he took down the stairs, you took twice as many backwards, wobbling towards a wall. Like there was some kind of secret passage that would save your life. 

There was no use anymore. Jaehyun set his feet on the floor and grabbed you just as you tried to turn away from him, pulling you into his open arms. You never stood a chance. He was stronger than you. Faster than you. 

“It’s all okay,” Jaehyun whispered as you sobbed, your back burning wherever his fingers attempted to soothe you. “We’re together now.”

Your body veered to life, jerking awake. Your eyes instinctively snapped to your legs, searching them for injuries, but at worst they looked slightly stiff. 

The rest of you trembled. You knew this was going to come, but it felt worse than you remembered. With a quick glance to your left, you noticed that Jaehyun wasn’t there. 

You didn’t know if it was really something that you should’ve thought twice about or if the circumstances were just naturally making you suspicious. Either way, you wanted to know where he was. After a long day of handling his responsibilities, he should’ve been unable to leave bed, and yet, his side of the bed wasn’t even a little warm. 

Too cold for him to be in the bathroom. Too cold for him to take a quick trip to the kitchen for a midnight snack. 

You impulsively decided to investigate and rose to your feet, putting your toes in your slippers and stealthing down the corridor. You didn’t know where to look, but it helped that you saw a light coming from just down the hall, and you followed it discreetly. 

All it would take was one wrong move for Jaehyun to overhear your footsteps. There didn't seem to be anyone patrolling down this corridor, which was typical, because Jaehyun’s family usually had their guards stand outside the entrance doors. 

That only meant that you had to be quieter. The door to Jaehyun’s office was wide open, inviting anyone to see what he was up to, but you didn’t want to make yourself known yet. You wanted to see who he was when you weren’t there. 

Ignoring the formidable stares of the statues, you crept closer to Jaehyun’s private office, breathing solely through your nose. The same hallways you loved to cruise seemed so much scarier when the lights were off.

Finally, you approached the light, hearing chatter the closer you grew to the door. You attached yourself to the wall, peaking your head inside ever so slightly. But when you saw what was happening inside, you stifled a gasp. 

Jaehyun was at his document-laden desk, looking far from exhausted, and he was sitting face-to-face with Jungwoo. 

“Accordingly, I will have to take charge of the country a little longer and my parents duties will fall into my palms,” Jaehyun said, folding his arms across the desk.  

Given that you were at an awkward angle, you couldn’t see Jungwoo's face, but you could hear the confusion in his voice, “I understand, Your Highness, though respectfully, I don’t see why you asked me here.”

“I’m requesting a favor.”

“May I know what it is?”

You shuffled to get a better glimpse into Jaehyun’s office, but scraped the floor with your heel in the process. You swore under your breath, hoping they didn’t hear you, and sensed your heartbeat quicken. 

Jaehyun stiffened in his chair. “Did you hear that noise?”

“Well, this palace is infamous for them, but I’m afraid that I can’t say that I’m a victim of sound,” Jungwoo replied, cocking his head to trail his gaze where Jaehyun’s had fallen. 

Your face tensed with confusion. Jungwoo didn’t hear the noises?

“That’s not what I meant,” Jaehyun said, standing from his seat to investigate. 

At the sound of footsteps, you quickly tiptoed towards a nearby door, pushing it open and squeezing yourself between hardware supplies. It was a tight fit, but you only focused on avoiding Jaehyun.

He glanced around both sides of the hallway, as if he was preparing to cross a bustling road. There was nothing. You were hiding in a closet merely a few feet away. 

You exhaled a quiet breath of relief when you heard him retreating, but frowned when you heard the door close behind him. You were clueless. What did Jaehyun have to hide? And with Jungwoo of all people, you wondered. 

Stumbling out of the closet and into the darkness, you crossed your arms. Jungwoo was one of the few people you found reliable here, but there was something he knew right now that you didn’t. You turned the corner to withdraw back to Jaehyun’s bedchamber, immediately jotting down a mental note to press him about it later. 

When you came back to bed, you found yourself still nervous without Jaehyun beside you. And you rebuked yourself for it instantly after. 

You didn’t realize it in your sleep, but the place where your dream occurred was the cellar Jungwoo had taken you to. Only darker. And with a soon-to-be king chasing you to the end. 

You shook your head with a groan, deciding that you would catch some sleep. For whatever reason, you had a strange feeling that you’d be needing it soon.

To your shock, it was daylight when you rose again. Somehow, you actually slept through the entire night. The only sounds that jolted you awake were those of impatient knocks coming from the bedchamber door. 

You exhaled grumpily and groaned, “Can I help you?”

“Good morning, Your Highness. Per your husband’s wishes, I’ve come to wake you for your schedule today,” came Jungwoo’s voice. 

Your eyes snapped open. Glancing to your side, you noticed that Jaehyun wasn’t there, and wondered if he ever returned. “I wasn’t aware that I had anything scheduled for today.”

“It was arranged overnight.”

“May I ask what was arranged?”

Jungwoo answered, “There will be a dinner party this evening in the east wing in honor of His Highness’ grandfather. The staff will be coming to style you shortly.”

Huh, I didn’t know that his grandfather’s birthday was today. Then again, Jaehyun was very private. “Okay, thank you.”

“You’re very welcome.”

Before he could run off to take care of his other tasks, you called out, “Jungwoo?”

“Yes, ma’am?”

You considered asking Jungwoo about his encounter with Jaehyun the night before, but decided at the last minute that you didn’t need him to know that you had been there. “Nevermind. Thanks a ton.”

For a whole day, you were kept preoccupied in Jaehyun’s bedchamber with a number of women fixed to you. The hours were so busy that you barely had time to think about your ongoing crisis. And half of you wondered if it was deliberate. 

At least for a minute, you did. With the corset throttling the life out of you, it was difficult to focus on anything else. You were grateful when they lessened the pressure on your organs. The dress was a sparkling royal blue, like you suspected the bulk of the guests attire would be. According to Jaehyun, it was his grandfather’s favorite color. 

It took hours for the women to finish with your makeup and hair. When the final touches were added, it was rapidly nearing dusk. The sun would be retiring below the horizon and the moon would settle over you now, quietly watching. 

Just after seven o’clock, an nth staff member came to escort you to the ballroom on the east wing. You were disappointed that Jaehyun hadn’t come, but sucked it up. Like you, he had most likely been preparing for the party. He must’ve had other roles to fulfill. After all, it was in honor of his late grandfather. 

His parents were out of the country, too. You remembered overhearing him mention to Jungwoo that their visit had been extended for whatever reason.

In a nutshell, he was a busy man. 

Most eyes fell on you when you entered the ballroom’s double doors. You greeted anyone nearby courteously and extended them a polite thanks for coming, as a princess should welcome her guests. 

But your attention was quickly drawn to your husband. You were still mad at him, or at least part of you wanted to be, but he looked mighty fine in that royal blue suit and his dark hair slicked back to hell. Goddamnit. 

“Jaehyun,” you said when you finally caught up to him, almost out of breath. He refused to stay in one place for longer than a minute, one-by-one mingling politely with the crowd. 

“There you are,” Jaehyun said, appearing more than glad to see you. Then, he grabbed your wrist, pressing his thumb to your pulse with an arched brow. “Your heart’s beating fast. Did you run a marathon before you got here or something?”

“Or something,” you murmured, shaking your head. Your husband was light on his feet. 

Jaehyun said to a server passing by, “Please get my wife something cool to drink.”

“Yes, immediately, Your Highness,” the servant replied, making a break for the kitchen. 

In the meantime, you scanned your husband. Other than his sexy suit that had your mouth watering to hell and back, Jaehyun was sporting a beaming smile, grinning from ear to ear. He looked happier than usual, in a way. 

“You’re giving me that look.”

You flinched. His voice broke your thoughts, but your eyes kept wandering; wondering. “What look?”

Jaehyun retorted teasingly, “The one that makes me feel like you’re going to eat me.”

You snickered. “It’s your grandfather’s birthday. He’d be turning in his grave.”

“I’m sure he wouldn’t mind as long as we had fun. My grandfather was big on milking a celebration for all that it was worth. He partied until his last breath,” Jaehyun joked. 

That was delightful news to you. “I didn’t know royals knew how to really party.”

“Please. You should see my mother after three shots of vodka when there’s no camera rolling. She’s full of crazy.”

Your heart simpered. There was a lot you didn’t know and hadn’t seen about this family. Remembering the thought itching at the back of your mind, you wanted to mention how he wasn’t in bed last night, but didn’t know if it was a good time. Instead, you opted for a quiet, “You didn’t tell me your grandfather’s birthday was close.”

You expected Jaehyun to respond with something deflective, but it caught you off-guard when he replied honestly, “There’s a lot of things I don’t tell you.”

Your eyes shone with shock, but you played it off. “Like what?”

Jaehyun kept his eyes fixed to your face without a word, as if he was studying you before making his move. “Darling, If I told you all there was to know about me, we’d be here for days,” he finally said. “Maybe weeks.”

“I want to know you,” you whispered, something poignant in your voice. 

“You do know me.”

The gleam in your eye shifted from sad to vicious, to coy. “Do I?”

Jaehyun nodded his head, gently smoothing a hand down the small of your back. “Yes, you do. I may not always lay my heart on the line, but deep, deep down inside, you know me. The real me, baby.”

Your eyes were staring into Jaehyun’s, like they were trying to forcibly peel back his layers and bare his soul to you, but it was all in vain. All you could liken it to was looking at someone with drunk double vision, your eyes deflecting two different images of him and your mind unsure of which one to trust. 

Sometimes I feel like you tell me just enough to keep me satisfied. And then you feed me more crumbs when I start to get cranky, like giving a bottle to a baby. 

“That drink you wanted, sir,” came a manly voice from beside you. 

“Thank you,” Jaehyun replied politely, handing you the glass of water. 

You accepted it gratefully, although your thirst was no longer for anything tangible. Nothing that you could touch with your bare, naked hands. It was for something deeper. 

Only a couple seconds later, Jaehyun said, “Well, I’d better get going.”

Your eyes went wide. “You aren’t staying with me?”

“I have some more guests to greet and then a speech to give, and then I should be all yours,” Jaehyun told you, shooting you a consoling grin. “You look beautiful in that dress, by the way.”

Your lips spread into a tired smile. “Thanks. I’ve been wearing it all day.”

Jaehyun snorted and gave you a final pat on the back of reassurance before stepping away. 

The party seemed to drag on without Jaehyun near your side and you were irreparably bored. You chatted with some guests with a polite set of white teeth ready to flash, but only because it was the expectation. Sneaking a couple of peeks at Jaehyun, it looked like he was still making his rounds. 

Usually, the king and queen would help, but they obviously weren’t here. Thus, it was Jaehyun’s problem. He couldn’t just leave his own grandfather’s party unattended. That wouldn’t be in good taste. 

You took a curious glimpse around and wondered how long you could disappear without anybody noticing. Probably only a couple of minutes. The whole ballroom would definitely know if you made a break for the double entrance, but if you slipped away through the kitchen, you had better odds. 

With your glass of water in hand, you casually sauntered towards the little back hallway, hopeful your guests wouldn’t question your getaway. 

When you entered the kitchen, you were immediately asked, “Where are you going?”

“Ten,” you gasped, a hand on your chest. He hadn’t even glanced up from his phone. You nearly dropped the glass of water. It had exhausted its purpose. “Would you ask that to a server?”

Ten retorted, “Would a server enter the kitchen with clacking six inch heels?”

“Touché,” you said. That explained how he knew it was you without even looking. 

Ten was the only son of the family chef and he had no regard for the royal life. Well, that was debatable. Your in-laws would’ve thought he was disrespectful, had they (god forbid) ever met. You took Ten as someone unafraid to challenge the status quo. Of course, the two of you vibed. It was refreshing to talk to someone who didn’t remind you of your title every now and then. 

Ten never, ever called you Your Highness. Not because he thought it was beneath him, but because he recognized your need for a friend. Not a follower. 

“You didn’t answer my question.”

“Just getting away for a second, if that’s okay with you,” you deadpanned, crossing your arms.

Ten gasped dramatically. “During the party in loving memory of your husband’s dead grandfather? That’s scandalous, babe.”

You scoffed. “Please. You’re not even at the party.”

Ten shot back, “I’m not married to the prince, either.”

Though you didn’t mean it at all, you snarled, “You make me sick.”

“You hate that I’m right,” Ten said boastfully, sporting a victorious grin. 

“Yeah, whatever,” you grumbled. “Where’s your dad? I thought the stew was supposed to be out fifteen minutes ago.”

Ten shrugged. “Smoke break. I wouldn’t eat it if I were you. Gave me the business.”

You winced. “Jesus. Well, I’ll be back. I need some fresh air.”

“I’ll let the hubby know if he asks questions.”

“Thanks.”

Then, you were on your way. 

The corridors were less dense than they typically were, though considering there was an event happening not too many feet away from you, you figured security was keeping a close eye on the hallway on the other side. 

If you were being frank, you had no clue where you were going. You just knew that you couldn’t be in that room with all those people much longer. Maybe you were starting to realize that the royal scene wasn’t for you. Or maybe it was your heightened suspicion planting those thoughts in your head. 

Whatever it was, you didn’t like it. You wondered if Ten would take you in. You had no idea what a day in the life of Ten Lee was like, but it wouldn’t hurt to find out. That was a nice backup plan. 

But leaving Jaehyun would sicken you in ways more lethal than any deadly disease. And Jaehyun would never forsake this life in this castle. 

It was a part of him. 

You’re talking crazy, you hissed to your insane thoughts. Perhaps it wasn’t a great idea to leave you alone by yourself with nothing but your thoughts and the silence that fed them. You might’ve been better off finding a guest with ears prepared to be talked off. 

The east wing was unfamiliar to you although much of it looked identical to the west one. When you somehow traveled back over to your side, it came to your attention that the gardens were nearby. Curious, you made a beeline for the doors, wondering if Giselle was out finishing up her obligations for the day. 

Night had dulled the sky completely when you stepped onto the familiar stone paths. The moon was there in her full glory, round and curvy with a thin veil of mist overneath, and the stars were few. 

The clacking thud that Ten spoke of was a telltale sign of your presence, but you didn’t see anyone there to warn. Instead, the sound grounded you in reality, keeping you as far away from your teetering thoughts as humanly possible. 

Wind was the only other sound. Actually, that was a lie; you heard owls lurking somewhere in the distance and knew they were wide awake. A sign that the night had truly begun. 

“Hello?” you called out. “Giselle?”

Silence. That was strange. These people usually worked from bright and early in the morning until unsettlingly dark and late at night, but of course, if Giselle had gotten off early, you couldn’t complain. Good for her. 

You were prepared to turn away and disappointedly retreat back to the party when you barely noticed something out of place in the corner of your eye. 

Blood. 

You were a curious person by nature. But this wasn’t an inquisitive investigation. This was a precautionary measure to make sure that nobody was injured. 

But what you saw made you physically nauseous, a stir settling in your belly instantaneously. Your first instinct was to scream at the top of your lungs. Giselle was sprawled out just shy of the ice cold stone, lying on her stomach in a thick pool of her own blood. 

“Oh my heavens,” you exclaimed, paralyzed with shock. Or fear. Probably a little (or a lot) of both. 

Given that there was a ladder pressed against a tall tree and pruners almost right near her body, you made the reasonable assumption that she’d fallen. The shock dimmed a little in order so that you could think, and you kneeled over to check her for a pulse, but came to the heart-stopping conclusion that she was dead. 

You backed away from Giselle. Your heart ached for her, but you couldn’t touch a dead body. The smell of death was foreign and overwhelming and you didn’t know how to keep yourself composed. Finding your bearings, you did what any reasonable person would do after discovering a lifeless body. 

You went to find help. 

It looked like an accident, like she had taken a wrong step and made a fatal mistake, but that didn’t mean you could just leave her there to rot. Somebody still had to call the police. And an ambulance. 

Tears blurred your vision as you ran back to the east wing. You couldn’t believe that Giselle was gone. You didn’t want to believe that. She never let you get too close, but you recognized Giselle for the hard-working woman she was that had her life all too suddenly ripped away from her. 

Fuck, this shouldn’t have happened. Giselle divulged to you about how her family needed her. They survived off of her income, her grueling long hours of hot hard work. 

Your mind couldn’t help but come to the worst possible conclusions. What if she knew too much? She was the first one to mention the piano to you and she seemed to be in denial about something. 

No, that’s ridiculous. There’s no way the monarchy would kill a devoted worker for keeping their filthy secrets, especially from their newest addition. She’s been inadvertently doing them a favor. 

Then again, someone was guaranteed to keep a secret if it died with them. Still, there was no evidence that her untimely death and the piano’s curse was even remotely linked together. You saw the scene yourself. It looked like an accident, not a crime. 

That made you remember what Jungwoo told you in the cellar about the deaths and disappearances. About how anybody who touched the piano either died mysteriously or disappeared without a trace. 

You had no way of knowing for sure if Giselle ever touched the piano, but if she was a victim of sound, as Jungwoo put it, that should’ve somehow placed a target on her back. And yours. You shuddered at the thought. 

Spooky sounds meant contact with the piano. You had done more than touched it. You’d played it. Almost every night for weeks. Jungwoo mentioned to Jaehyun that he didn’t hear the sounds, but he never told you if he touched the piano, either. 

But if his father had, then knowing what Jungwoo knew, you doubted that he would. 

Whatever it was, nothing made it easier to cope. Pictures of blood kept flickering behind your eyelids whenever you blinked. Your sobs echoed off the hallway walls with your hurried footsteps, but noticing the double doors finally come into view, you tried to pull yourself back together. 

You subconsciously sighed out in relief when you got there, but when you came to draw it open, the hands refused to budge. “Fuck!” you cursed out. 

Not that anybody would hear you. There was music thumping beneath your feet even outside the door and it would’ve done you no good to knock. It was strange that the door was locked, though. Now that you thought about it, there also weren’t any guards in the hallways. 

But there was another entrance through the back. 

Ten, you thought, already running again. Your legs ached from sprinting in heels, but somebody needed urgent medical attention. And Ten had a cellphone. 

The kitchen entrance luckily wasn’t too far from where you already were and you came prepared to charge through the doors, but those, like the others, were also locked. You started to bang tirelessly on the door, yelling with complete vigor, “Ten, open the door! Someone needs help!”

There was no answer. You tried to beat harder, to scream louder, but every effort seemed useless. With your voice turning hoarse, that glass of water you left inside the kitchen suddenly sounded tempting. 

“What the fuck,” you grumbled under your breath, exhausted and confused and in shock. You needed to lie down, but you refused to rest until help was on the way. 

Why would Ten suddenly leave? Dinner couldn’t have even been ready yet. You didn’t know why he tagged along with his dad sometimes, but you did know that they came and went in the same 

vehicle. 

There was a door just to your left, one that led outside where Ten’s father would’ve parked. You immediately made a beeline for it, curious if they were gone. It was the only way you could rationalize the locked door and Ten’s absence. 

You hoped to see somebody out there, and you did, but they weren’t breathing. 

The chef was on the ground where he usually took his smoke breaks, bleeding as if he was torn from every seam and had been ripped open from every angle. You gaped, fixing a hand to your mouth as you wobbled in surprise, gripping the nearest wall for purchase. 

Turning away from him, you heaved for breath and tried to keep your stomach's contents inside where they were. But there was blood splattered everywhere you looked. And if you thought the stench was overpowering earlier, you were in for the wildest ride of your life. 

This death said loud and clear everything that Giselle’s didn’t. This was no mistake. Matter of fact, this scene was so messy that it couldn’t have not been done deliberately. 

“Oh my god,” you rasped, unsure of what to say. And what to do. Never had you seen a dead body outside of a funeral backdrop and having seen not one, but two very dead people was seriously wounding your ability to think. 

All you knew was that something was fishy. You thought Giselle’s death was a self-inflicted mistake, but you weren’t so convinced anymore, all things considered. This was the second body to wash up, metaphorically speaking. And this one had been undeniably murdered. 

There was a serial killer on the loose. 

Your first thought was Jaehyun and you started to panic, but you consoled yourself with the reminder that he had an entourage of loyal servants to protect him with their lives and shield him with their bodies. He was okay. Giselle and Ten’s father, on the other hand, not so much. 

Speaking of Ten, you still had no clue where he was or what he was doing. For all you knew, he could’ve been the killer. 

No. There’s no way. Ten didn’t have a mean bone in his body, much less a murderous one. Plus, what would he have against Giselle?

And why would he kill his own father?

I don’t know. None of this makes sense. I don’t know why anyone would hurt Giselle or the chef, or anyone for that fucking matter, you huffed, angry. These people didn’t deserve to die. The person responsible would pay. 

Unable to withstand the stench, you pinched your nose and turned for the door. Of course, it would be the only one unlocked. You had the misfortune of seeing what was behind lucky door number three. 

Back in the halls, you only walked aimlessly. You had no idea where the fuck you were going and it was probably a terrible idea to be out and about with an anonymous blood-hungry murderer on the loose, but you weren’t thinking that far. 

Images continued to flicker in your head. You wondered what were the last things these people saw before they died, if they knew what they had coming. And you realized what a shame it was that everything these people knew died the second they took their last breaths. 

You couldn’t wrap your head around this happening. And you wanted to know why. With the chef’s murder, accidents were completely out of the window, and you thought about the piano again. But that made even less sense. 

What business would the chef have with the piano? You doubted that man had ever strayed further than the dining hall. 

Your thoughts traveled even further. Giselle was a gardener. The bulk of her work happened outside and there was hardly any need for her to come indoors when all the tools for her job could be found in the shed. 

More than ever, you needed answers, and more than ever, they seemed impossibly difficult to come by. 

The further you traveled down the hallway, the louder the sound of jagged breathing grew until it finally snapped you out of your biohazard of thoughts. You stiffened with alarm, body alert, and realized it might’ve been in your best interest to locate a useful weapon. 

You ducked behind a corner, not wanting to be caught like a helpless damsel in distress if it was the killer (though only a lousy one would’ve been so noisy), but you heard a groan and knew in your heart that you recognized that voice. 

Peeking around the corner ever so slightly, you noticed Ten clutching his stomach and clinging to a wall for dear life, sticky with hot sweat. And you discerned that he was no threat. 

“Ten,” you called out, approaching him with concern. “What’s wrong? Did someone hurt you?”

Ten shook his head, only barely keeping himself standing. You came to grab him and noticed he was burning up a thousand degrees, helping him slowly sit on the floor. “I told you. That stew gave me the business.”

“This isn’t just a stomach ache, Ten. I think you were poisoned,” you said, crouched down to be eye level with him. 

Ten forced a smile even though he was clearly uncomfortable and in a lot of pain. “Yeah, you’re telling me. But my father was the only one controlling the food. He wouldn’t do that to me.”

The mention of his father made your shoulders stiffen. You scanned Ten’s face, wondering if you should’ve told him what you knew. If he was still alive by the end of this, he would find out one way or another. “Ten, have you seen your dad?”

“I know he’s dead.” 

You cocked him a glance. “You don’t sound disappointed.”

“Do I sound like I’m in a lot of pain?” Ten asked. 

“You sound like you’re trying to keep yourself whole.”

“That’s because I’m kinda dying here. I’m sorry if I’m bad at multitasking,” Ten hissed, paling on the spot. 

Your gaze turned apologetic. “Listen, I’m sorry,” you whispered quietly, glancing around the hallway for suspicious onlookers. “I’ve found two dead bodies and I’ve been running all over the palace looking for help. Please, don’t be the third.”

“Trust me, I don’t wanna be any more than you want me to be…,” Ten trailed, wincing. “Holy fuck. Holy fucking shit. I’m gonna die.”

“Don’t say that!” you screamed. 

Ten threw his head back and groaned, “Babe, I feel like my guts are being ripped open, and not in a good way.”

You wanted to laugh and cry at the same time. Ten was good at keeping the mood as light as it could be as he literally died right before your eyes. And there was nothing you could do to save him. You felt helpless. 

“We’ve got to find help,” you told him, grabbing his hands in yours. 

Ten shook his head. His skin was glistening with a thick layer of sweat and each of his breaths sounded labored. “I can’t move. The room feels so hot. I think I’m gonna pass out.”

He looked like it, too. Tears threatened to fall from your eyes, but you fought them back. At the very least, if Ten was going now, he wouldn’t go alone. “Ten, somebody did this to you. You already said your father wouldn’t. Somebody else had to be in the kitchen.”

Ten shrugged weakly. “So many people went in and out of the kitchen. I don’t even know their names. It could’ve been anyone.”

You released a shaky breath. That answer helped no one. 

Ten’s eyes started to flutter and you shook him in your arms, begging, “No, please don’t close your eyes on me. You’re a fighter. Fight.”

“I’m fighting,” he whispered, voice on the verge of silence. “But sometimes we just lose.”

“I can’t lose you, too,” you cried, trembling as you held him. For as long as he was there, breathing and talking to you, you wouldn’t let him think that he was alone. 

Ten shook his head. You knew he had given it his all, because Ten wasn’t the type to go down without a fight, even if he didn’t win in the end. He’d never let someone else claim a peaceful victory. “If I die right now, I want you to know it’s been a pleasure knowing you.”

“Ten…,” you said. Tears made your eyes burn now. You were clenching your fists so hard his hands were probably sore. 

“They might come for you. Don’t surrender. Whoever this guy is, you give them hell until you can’t anymore.”

A lone tear finally slipped past your cheek. “What if I don’t make it?”

“Then you die knowing you did absolutely everything you could to stay alive,” Ten whispered with the last of his strength. 

Your heart was bursting with sadness and unadulterated rage. To watch somebody in their final moments was different than imagining it unfold. This made it even more real. This was a picture you would never forget even in death. 

Finally, Ten’s strength gave out, and you lingered there for a minute even after. Your thumb pressed to his wrist and you noted that he still had a weak pulse. 

You nodded your head. That was enough for you. But you had to find help immediately. 

And you absolutely had to find out who was responsible for this. They would have a brutal punishment. 

You wiped the tears from your eyes and started to run again, but you didn’t get far before you collided into Jaehyun’s chest, and you released a breath of relief when you saw him. “Oh my goodness, Jaehyun. Thank god it’s you. I’ve been trying to get help for ages. Two people are dead and I think Ten’s on his way out.”

Jaehyun’s voice was unbothered. “Really?”

You realized then that the night was far from over. 

You pulled back, suspicious. You just told him that two people had died in his castle. He should’ve been fuming. “Why do you sound so nonchalant?”

Jaehyun’s lips were in a line. “I warned you not to go looking too deep. You should’ve listened like a good girl.”

The realization was starting to settle in, but you didn’t want to know the truth. You didn’t even want to fathom it. For so many weeks, you’d been unknowingly wallowing in ignorance. “This is your fault. You did this, didn’t you?”

“Yes. All of it was me,” Jaehyun said, like he was proudly boasting about his murders. 

You shook your head. You knew there was something going on, something that your husband was at the heart of, but not like this. “Ten’s dying.”

Jaehyun looked and sounded completely indifferent, “Okay, that’s dramatic. He shouldn’t be dead. He’s in for a solid nap, though. And a concussion if he hit the ground too hard.”

That didn’t happen. You had been the one to personally lower Ten to the ground. Either way, you were none too pleased. You weren’t sure if that was supposed to be reassuring, because Jaehyun’s tone was empty and his face was borderline inscrutable. 

Your whole body felt weak. The room was spinning. Your own body was on the brink of collapse. 

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” Jaehyun commented, studying your appearance. You probably looked like you had actually run a marathon. 

“You’re a monster,” you snapped, brimming with loathing and hatred. 

Jaehyun didn’t flinch. “It’s been said,” he told you, like it was only a regular insult to him. 

You shook your head. This couldn’t be happening.

Jaehyun took a step closer to you, and you took twice as many back. You wanted to be nowhere near him. This wasn’t the Jaehyun you knew. He was cold. Alternatively, maybe this was the Jaehyun you’d known all along, the one you’d tried to suppress. 

Your mind was showing you the warning signs. She was giving you all the right signals. And yet, you were blind to each of them. 

Jaehyun tilted his head, looking at you with fucking nothing. There was nothing in his eyes. Nothing on his face. “Do you believe in happy endings?”

“Not with you in it,” you seethed, convulsing with a newfound anger you never thought you could possess, much less direct towards your husband. 

Jaehyun snickered for the first time since you’d last seen him. “I’m giving you the chance to have yours.”

You glared at him, wary. “What does that mean?”

“It means that you have thirty minutes to leave this castle and have your happy ending without me, but if I catch you before then, you’re mine. It’s like hide and seek.”

You wanted to rage. This man had the audacity to play fucking games with you when so many lifes were gone and many more were probably at stake. There was no telling who else he’d hurt. “When do my thirty minutes start?”

“Right now.”

You left then and there. You couldn’t stand to be in proximity of Jaehyun for another fucking second. And he didn’t follow. He was letting you think that you had a chance. 

When you turned the corner, safely out of his vision, you could finally acknowledge the beaten and battered condition of your heart. The look Jaehyun had given you only moments ago was unlike any other you’d ever seen. It was colder. 

You should’ve seen it coming. Jaehyun was the missing piece. This was all happening because of his grandfather’s piano, for fuck’s sake. The same grandfather whose birthday happened to be today. Of course, it wasn’t a coincidence that bodies started dropping that same day. 

You were angry. You were hurt. To be honest, you were just the right amount of everything. And yet, you were thinking about how madly you were still in love with Jaehyun. 

Wincing your eyes closed, you wished that this was just a nightmare like everything else. That you would wake up in Jaehyun’s arms and he'd tell you that it was all a bad dream. Unfortunately, the longer the night went on, the more you accepted that that couldn’t be farther away from the truth. 

The only real difference was that Jaehyun wasn’t right on your tail. He was giving you an opportunity to escape and free yourself from this hellhole once and for all. Your shoulders suddenly felt cold when you recalled something that he’d told you.

I would never chase you, Jaehyun had said. I will always have you right where I want you.

The statement made you feel uneasy then, but you overlooked it, because you wrongfully assumed that Jaehyun was harmless. 

You shook the thoughts away. He wasn’t worth thinking about right now. Survival was your top priority and escaping was the only way you’d ever know peace. 

The palace had a grand total of four entrances stretched across its acres - the main gate, the east entrance, the south entrance, and the west entrance. Only the east entrance was nearby. You knew Jaehyun wouldn’t have made this easy, but it wouldn’t hurt to try. 

You hurried to the nearest exit leading outdoors and breathed only a little easier when you were met with the fresh, crisp night air. Given that you’d been running in heels for what felt like hours, you finally ditched them near a bush and started to run again. 

Traveling to the gate would take forever without a car. The same could be said about the rest of the castle, far from tiny, and you only had thirty minutes on the clock.

You had to make every minute count. 

You wanted to sob, but you focused solely on getting the fuck out of there. You hadn’t forgotten about Ten, but you couldn’t help him here. Jaehyun had apparently taken mercy upon him, sparing his life where he hadn’t hesitated to steal others. 

Why? Was it some kind of reflection of control? Did he realize that Ten wasn’t the root of his need to kill?

Whatever that was. 

“Too much is going on right now,” you whispered to yourself, heart thudding quicker.

For a second you wondered if the other staff you cared for was alright. These were people you saw everyday, working from dusk till dawn, and yet still treated you with respect and kindness. Their sweetness deserved to be spread, not eliminated and forgotten. 

Giselle was gone and had no hope for revival, but as far as you were concerned, Jungwoo was still skipping around with a burden of secrets on his shoulder. Part of you couldn’t bring yourself to fully trust him, not after his disaster of a meeting of Jaehyun, but that didn’t mean he should’ve died. 

Apparently, you and Jaehyun weren’t on the same page. The worst part was that you couldn’t even begin to fathom what he got out of slaughtering his employees like animals. You’d never been able to see inside his head. 

The east gate came into view and you circled in on it, desperate to make an escape. You briefly considered the possibility of Jaehyun being nearby, potentially having taken a closer exit, prepared to hinder you by any means necessary. 

But when the gate refused to budge like you feared, you came to the conclusion that he was definitely far away. Jaehyun was five steps ahead of you. 

He had all of the advantages in this twisted game, you realized. Jaehyun grew up in this palace; he obviously had to know all of the ins and outs, every nook and cranny. It would take you, on the other hand, the entire thirty minutes to navigate from one end of the place to the other. 

This game was never created to be fair. You remembered him showing you little shortcuts along the palace to make your trips shorter. If you wanted to survive, you’d have to fight for your life. 

“Fuck,” you groaned under your breath. You had no way of telling for sure how much time had passed, but if you had to guess, at least ten minutes. 

The sky was dark and mistier than it was earlier. At least it felt that way. The tears stinging your eyes made it even harder to see and you were inching closer to succumbing to the battle. If Jaehyun had rigged it from the start, you knew there was no way in hell you were getting out. 

But Ten’s words rang out in your brain. He was alive for now, but as far as he knew, they could’ve been his final ones. And you knew you couldn’t give up yet.

Mustering the courage to continue fighting like Ten would’ve, you remembered something. There was an emergency exit near Jaehyun’s grandfather’s room. You didn’t care to know why. Bad things just seemed to happen when he was involved. 

Without a second thought, you headed back inside. If you wanted out, you didn’t have a choice. 

Your sanity fought for control against your pumping adrenaline and you came to accept that it wasn’t possible for both to coexist with each other. One or the other. And if you were up against a sicko like Jaehyun, you needed to fight fire with fire. 

You had to degrade yourself to his level, meet him where he was at. You had to become you at your worst version. A hell-raising monster with a thirst for blood. 

There was a familiar ground nearby when you approached the door. The part of the garden you never wandered into, because it was the same place that godawful dream happened. With the pond and stone galore.  

You quickly swiped a pitchfork, throwing it over your shoulder, and when you were finally through the door, started sprinting back down the hallways. The emergency exit was all the way in the west wing and you had less time than you would’ve liked to make it the hell out of there. 

Every bone in your body ached, but you had too much to fight for. You didn’t even know what all was at stake if Jaehyun won, but you didn’t want to know, and you couldn’t sleep beside him at night anymore knowing who he was and what he’d done. 

Turning each corner, you looked around for signs of a lingering Jaehyun before you kept going. Every hallway looked exactly the same as the one that came before it and it made you feel like you were walking in circles, impossible to tell if you were even going anywhere. It was thrusting you far past the brink of madness. 

Minutes passed, but courtesy of the painful yet handy adrenaline rush, it felt like seconds when you found the west wing stairs. Taking the elevator would’ve been a quicker option, but if Jaehyun was nearby, he would know if the elevator was preoccupied, and you had no interest in playing russian roulette with your life. 

But there was a familiarly pungent smell in the air. 

You wanted to be sick when you saw the source. The others were messy, but this death was brutal in ways you had never witnessed. Jungwoo’s remains were perched on the stairs within a pool of nauseating blood, sitting in his own overkill. 

His insides were definitely on the outside. Matter of fact, they were everywhere, decorating a number of steps. Jungwoo was savagely mangled and mutilated, similar to how a wolf would ravage an elk, like his killer wanted there to be little to nothing of him left. 

“Jungwoo,” you gasped in shock, crouching down as your legs started to tremble. 

His dead body was on display. Like the person who killed him wanted you to see what they’d done. And you couldn’t bring yourself to accept that Jaehyun was the reason why.

All the skepticism you had towards him devolved into regret. Of course, Jungwoo wasn’t to blame for any of the wicked stuff happening in the shadows. Like his father, he was a victim. And at the end of the day, like you, all he wanted was answers. 

There was a weight on your chest and an unbridled rage spiraling inside your heart. “I’ll find them for you,” you whispered vengefully. 

Then, you heard it. Scratching in the walls stretching near the stairway. In spite of the several claims of their existence, you’d never heard them until now. Soon after, you could’ve swore you heard a familiar voice. 

Jaehyun. He was in the fucking walls? 

Stepping around Jungwoo’s bloody corpse, careful not to step your bare feet in any stray specks of blood, you headed upstairs with a sparkling revolve keeping your blood pumping. The emergency exit was close. 

It was actually right down the hallway. When you were walking from the bedchamber with Jaehyun, the journey felt longer, but you ignored every glare from those evil statues and came right in front of the emergency door. 

After yanking the knob, it begrudgingly opened and you stepped inside without a moment of consideration. There was no time. Do or die. 

The door closed behind you on its own terms. You just kept pushing. This was your only ticket to escape and though you weren’t exactly sure where the path led, you had no intention to stop and fret about your whereabouts. It was worth nothing though, that the deeper you came, the more it felt like a secret passageway. 

The hallway didn’t look the way you pictured an escape route. The walls were accessorized with portraits and lights. And you couldn’t believe your shock when you saw it diverge into different paths like a crossroad. 

This fucking was a secret passageway. 

There was something else you noticed. Those scratches sounded closer than they had when you were outside, like somebody dragging their nails onto the walls as they walked. 

“What the fuck?” you wondered. 

You stiffened when you heard your husband’s voice, “Darling, is that you? Your thirty minutes are over.”

Nope. Silent as ever, you made for the other path. You were picking your battles. 

Jaehyun was probably closer to the way out of here after all. He would’ve never given you a free opportunity. He was probably guarding the escape just in case you were clever (or lucky) enough. 

His footsteps were slow. You couldn’t see him, but you could hear him, and he was in no particular hurry to catch you. You worried that you were walking into a dead end, but when you came out on the other side, there was another set of doors. 

Your eyes flickered between them. You had time to waste before Jaehyun even got anywhere close to you, but you wanted to get ahead. After a moment of carefully contemplating, you made the nerve-wracking decision to go for the right. 

When you stepped out, you found yourself right back where it all began. You were outside, but not as far as you would’ve liked. It was the gardens. You glimpsed around and saw the tree you wed Jaehyun under. 

Though it had been full of white flowers the day you exchanged vows, promising each other eternity, they had unfortunately succumbed to the drier air. 

“That was a fun day, huh?”

Your startled body jolted with alarm and the usual ease that filled you when you realized it was only Jaehyun behind you was nowhere to be found. He was the evil you’d been searching for, hiding in plain sight. 

He had you fooled. He made you think that he was somebody he wasn’t. Worst of all, you believed him. You trusted him, completely and utterly. You were willing to give him all of you at the drop of a dime. 

“Stay back. I’ll hurt you,” you threatened, posing the pitchfork in your sweaty hands. 

Emotion flickered over Jaehyun’s face; amusement. “A pitchfork? That’s really medieval, don’t you think?”

Your tone darkened, “I’m warning you.”

Jaehyun stepped closer, leaving himself open and vulnerable. “Then, do it. I’m right here. I have no weapon,” he said, holding his hands above him. 

Panic settled in. It occurred to you that your feelings for Jaehyun would never let him hurt you unless your own life was threatened, and for some reason, you believed that Jaehyun would never hurt you. He had all of the opportunities. Yet he had never a finger on you. 

Plus you still needed answers. For yourself, and for the people whose lives were taken because of them. Tears stinging your eyes again and a shattering echoing out in your heart, you tossed the pitchfork aside and roared, “I hate you!”

“That isn’t true,” Jaehyun said, gentle and tender. His voice was loving, but his eyes were soulless. “You love me. I make you happy.”

You shook your head vigorously. “I’ve spent the past couple of hours in distress, all because of you. Why? What’s really going on, Jaehyun?”

“At the end of the day, the piano calls, and I answer. The responsibility skipped my father, but it’s what my grandfather did. I didn’t have a choice,” Jaehyun said, wholly convinced that this was some god-given obligation. 

And you were having none of it. It was just excuses. “That doesn’t make sense. You killed all of those people because of a fucking piano?”

“This is why I couldn’t tell you. I knew that you wouldn’t understand. You have to live it to know.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” you seethed, stepping away from him.

Jaehyun didn’t follow. He was comfortable standing there and watching you, because he knew you had nowhere to run. “This isn’t a regular piano. It hands out curses like candy. It’s an entity and to prevent itself from being destroyed, it chooses its protectors.”

The whole world was spinning. Was he trying to tell you that the piano was alive or something? 

“He was the chosen protector - my grandfather, I mean. Like I said, it skipped my father and went to me. The piano gives anyone that touches it one of two curses to protect itself. I only enforce that fate.”  

The world around you was starting to blur. Jaehyun didn’t see those corpses as people. Instead, he saw them as curses that needed to be removed. 

Standing required too much extra strength that you didn’t have. You stumbled and staggered, weakening by the second, and when you started to head for the ground, Jaehyun caught you in his strong arms. “Careful. You might get hurt.”

He was perfectly composed while everything as you knew it was falling apart, piece by fucking piece. Glancing into his eyes, you hissed, “What are the curses?”

“Hm?”

“You said that when someone touches the piano, they get one of two curses. What are they?”

“Death,” Jaehyun said as normal as ever. “Or perpetuity. They have to live their worst fear until the day that they croak.”

You didn’t think that you could get any angrier, but that didn’t even begin to describe the sharp pain heating your whole body up to hell. “You let me touch that piano, you encouraged me to, knowing I would immediately be cursed.”

Jaehyun saw where you were going with this and replied coolly, “If I knew you were going to die, I would’ve kept you away from it.”

“So you knew I would’ve been cursed with perpetuity,” you said in an accusing tone. “Meaning you knew my biggest fear.”

“I might’ve exploited my power. Your every nightmare revolves around me. You’re so scared of me it keeps you awake at night. I had to use that to my advantage. I can’t lose you.”

And there it was. The ugly truth on a silver platter. Jaehyun gave you the creeps and instead of trying to prove his innocence to you, he took advantage of your fear, making sure to create a reality where you would never be able to get rid of him for as long as you both breathed.

This was the end. Glancing at the tree where you exchanged vows only earlier this spring, you realized that everything pointed back to Jaehyun. It always had. 

Pulling back from Jaehyun, because you couldn’t stand to touch him, you snapped, “You didn’t chase me, because you knew that in the end, everything led back to you.”

Jaehyun didn’t deny it, chuckling. Like he thought that he was clever. “Why would I chase you when I’ve already bound you to me?”

You physically felt weak and sick. You didn’t want to believe that Jaehyun had somehow manipulated your fate so that you couldn’t leave him. Your only escape was through death. Every shaky exhale you took ached. 

Jaehyun continued, “That’s why your little dreams don’t make sense. It doesn’t matter how far or quickly you run away from me. I will always catch you without trying. I always get what I want and you’ll never slip through my fingers. You’re mine.”

At those words, you wobbled away, but it was more like a vicious drawback. “You killed Giselle and Jungwoo and Ten’s father. Why?”

Like he was incapable, there wasn’t a lick of remorse in Jaehyun’s voice when he replied, “I put Giselle out of her misery. She had the perpetuity curse. No matter how hard she worked, she was going to be doomed to her worst nightmare for the rest of life - dying poor. I only made it happen sooner. It was quick.” 

You felt like regurgitating yesterday’s lunch the longer this conversation happened, but you held it back. 

“Jungwoo had it coming. He didn’t have the curse, unlike his father, but it was obvious that he had a thing for you and it was disgusting. I honestly did him a favor. He doesn’t have to live in pain anymore.”

Had a thing for you? You never got that vibe from Jungwoo. He was polite and respectful, and you treated him likewise. You never thought you would get a man killed for his manners. 

“And the chef,” Jaehyun began, pleasure flickering onto his face for the briefest of seconds, but you swore it was there. “He was just practice and a victim of opportunity. It’s been a minute. I’m rusty.”

“You killed him for no reason,” you spat. 

“It appears that way.”

Your body recoiled with every unpleasant feeling it had to offer. “You killed Jungwoo for no reason, too. He was just a nice guy,” you said through gritted teeth. 

It was like the angrier you got, the calmer Jaehyun stood, taking every one of your metaphorical hits like they were a gentle nudge to the shoulder. “I killed him out of love for you. He wanted what was mine. I had to remind him of his place. He was a nobody.”

Turning away, you decided that you couldn’t look at Jaehyun any longer. You couldn’t believe the words coming out of his mouth. You were upset and disappointed and everything in between. 

Jaehyun’s eyes were fixed to that goddamn tree. “I had no feelings for you at first. Marrying you was just another duty I knew I had to fulfill for my country. It was business. But then we started to get to know each other, and I fell for you.”

“I had feelings for you too,” you croaked, voice shaking with pain. 

Jaehyun was quick to add, “You still do. Don’t you see what I did for you? I turned you into royalty.”

“I never fucking asked you to,” you screamed off the top of your lungs. Letting the whole palace hear you for all you cared, if anybody was still alive in there. “I married you because it was what my parents wanted. I just happened to actually like you for a minute.”

“You’ll come around,” Jaehyun said nonchalantly, unfazed by your aggression. “You’ll realize that you were made for me. And you’ll accept that our love was written in the stars.”

There were no stars when you glanced into the night sky. Not even a sliver of the moon. Even she was too ashamed of what was happening under her nose right now and couldn’t bear to witness it unfold. 

But it dawned on you then. The only time you would ever see the moon and her stars again was if you stepped onto the grounds of this very garden. Jaehyun had caught you. You waltzed straight into his trap and now you had to reap what you’d sowed. 

You were his. Whether you liked it or not. You might’ve not ever given up on escaping him, even if it took a lifetime, but for right now, Jaehyun had won. 

“Let’s go, baby,” Jaehyun said, wrapping an arm around your waist. You shuddered. His hands were cold to the touch. “It’s late. We should get ready for bed. We have to stop by the piano so that you don’t have bad dreams.”

The walk to Jaehyun’s grandfather’s bedchamber was quieter than it had ever been. You kept him at arm’s length, ashamed. And maybe a little fearful. 

And there the piano stood in its glory when the door opened, untouched and unmoving. She was evil as ever, wallowing in her curse. Your fingers ran across the keys as the curse wrecked through your blood, present and constant. 

“I’ll never forgive you for this,” you whispered, glancing up at Jaehyun. 

For the first time in a minute, Jaehyun smiled. He replied sweetly, “Darling, it’s okay. You’ll understand soon. We only have each other now.”

You didn’t want to know what that meant. Instead, you pressed your fingers to the bitterly cold keys, squeezing your eyes closed as you played a melody by heart.

Finally, tears started to fall down, gathering on the keys. Then, you realized that you weren’t a victim of sound, but an indulger. Your body was there, but your mind was with nature. With the blowing wind and gentle breezes, the rippling water and swimming critters. 

Your mind was with your friends. With Giselle in the garden, helping her trim branches and plot plants for the queen. With Jungwoo, exploring new places around the palace that you never knew existed. With Ten, rambling about anything and everything under the sun. 

You escaped through every harmonious noise, fingers pacing ruthlessly, and keeping your eyes closed as you pretended that everything was okay. 

Jaehyun came behind you, resting his head on your shoulder while his arms came around you again. His touch was familiar and though it used to keep you whole, when you sat there, defenseless and helpless, you could feel a piece of you break off and die in his arms. 

prettiest goofiest best friends

insomnia | city lights series | h.js

The last bit of sanity in your mind vanished the moment before you asked your hot neighbour to be your fuck buddy. Whatever prompted you to muster the courage to get the words out was something you didn't know you had inside you. But he wasn't saying no.

✮ pairings: joshua hong x afab!reader ✮ genre: smut mdni you'll get blocked ✮ word count: 11.8k ✮ aus: rocksinger!joshua (not famous), neighbours with benefits

₊🎧: insomnia - shinee | closer - jihyo ₊ tagging: @aaniag @dkluvrsclub @zezedoesshit @cottoncheol @mindofthescattered @ac1dhao @lovelyhyuka14 @lilsafsafbooyah @agustjin ty for your comments, tags and rbs!! ty lovelies love y'all. tell me if you'd like to be in my forever tag list!! ♡︎ヾ(•ω•`)o ♡ ₊ nsfw warnings under the cut

✮ warnings: smut with plot, softdom!joshua, bigdick!joshua, somewhat inexperienced reader, sex talks, a bit of corruption kink (it'll get worse i promise), instalove(ish), pet names: sweetheart, pretty, baby, princess (hers). a bit of size kink, wet dreams, dirty talk, foul language, making out, oral sex (f), protected sex, squirting, multiple orgasms (f)

part i

A soft thud startled you. What followed then were muffled sounds of a woman crying out and moaning continuously, bed creaking loudly and pushing rhythmically, and then frantically against your bedroom wall.

You groaned.

Lying on your mountains of pillows and squishmallows, you covered your face with your duvet as the moans continued, crying out and being muffled by the walls, but you could still hear them.

It's the second night you hear your neighbours have really loud sex. The first time you didn't mind, since you were deep in a writing session and you have pretty good headphones that cancelled the sounds of your neighbour fucking someone into the walls.

But now there was no way to avoid hearing them.

Given that you'd presented the first rough draft of your manuscript early, you had time to relax for a bit. To the exception that you've pushed yourself so hard lately that your sleep schedule was deeply fucked up and now your body was wide awake during the middle of the night.

You jumped out of your bed and grabbed your coat, scurrying away from the sounds of your neighbours going at it.

You felt somewhat disturbed, but not in the way that anyone would if they hear their neighbours having sex. You felt rattled, as if your neighbours having a good time and not you was the actual problem and not that they were too noisy in the middle of the night.

The only way to the rooftops was through the emergency stairs, so when you got there, you were panting silently. The midnight air cooled you off and brushed your hair gently when you stepped out to the rooftop.

Beyond the door, a wide concrete square stretched off into the distance. Your typical route took you east, where the lookout point offered an impressive view of the city skyline.

The perimeter of the rooftop was lined with a brick mid wall that stood up to chest height, providing a protective barrier along the edges.

You were convinced that you were the only one visiting this place. Since it was vacated every time you came here to wind down and take fresh air away from your computer.

The night was so still that it offered you some solace, it made your imagination run. You loved this piece of tranquillity, the times when you came here in the dead of the night to presence the stillness of the city.

During sleepless nights, you found solace in this place, waiting for the dawn. As the city slowly awoke, you reflected on the ordinary lives of the people, contemplating their daily routines. It gave you some incentive to keep working on your manuscript.

You let an hour pass. It seemed reasonable to you. Drawing from your own lived experiences, an hour was too long but you decided to give your neighbours the benefit of the doubt.

When you returned to your apartment, it was quiet enough to force yourself to sleep. But instead, the hours went by and you stared at the ceiling for while, lying in your bed.

It usually happened this way; whenever you felt like sleep was drawing near, something would snap in your brain and kept you awake until you'd blackout.

Wide awake, you were overcome with a curiosity that led you to wonder about your next-door neighbours. Although you had a vague idea of who lived there, the occasional sounds intrigued you. Sometimes a guy's loud singing would drift through the walls, or you'd hear the casual strumming of a guitar in the middle of the afternoon.

And also, the obvious loud moans of a woman in the middle of the night.

You have never had the chance to meet them, and you were pretty sure that you didn't want to now that you've heard them fuck twice.

It was 7AM the last time you remember looking at the clock before finally falling asleep.

The curtains of your bedroom blocked out the light from outside completely and there wasn't any strange or loud noises that could possibly interrupt your long awaited sleep.

Until you heard someone strumming an electric guitar quite loudly on speakers. The sound came from the next door neighbour, the same you heard last night having really loud sex.

The same chords were strung over and over again, as if rehearsing a tune.

"Oh my god," you muttered under your breath.

Throwing the bed covers away, you jumped out of bed again. A deep feeling of rage boiling inside you when without thinking, you marched outside the hall of your apartment and knocked on the door of your immediate neighbour; loud enough for them to hear it over the guitar speakers.

What followed then was the sound of speakers dying abruptly, a shuffle of steps of someone coming towards the door. A tall man opened it, and you met his face. Big brown eyes looked down at you, while raising one perfect eyebrow.

The rage inside you smouldered down at the sight. You weren't counting on your neighbour being... well, being hot as fuck.

His hair was dark, with a few stray strands gently touching his eyebrows, you noticed the ring adorning one of these. Big eyes were dark and curious, like those of a doe, scanning you up and down. The ghost of a smile adorned his pinkish red lips, hiding his teeth.

"He-hello," you mumbled awkwardly. "I'm your neighbour from 317."

Why wouldn't you just say you were from next door, you didn't know. Probably you were so sleep deprived that you didn't know how to act human anymore.

Your neighbour showed you a kind smile. "Hi. I'm Joshua," he rose a hand and waved friendly. "Can I help you with something?"

"Yeah," you said, but after two seconds added: "can you keep it down, please? I'm trying to sleep."

"Uh, sure. Sorry about that, I was just testing equipment," he said while smiling politely.

You quickly glanced at his strong arms as he crossed them over his chest and leaned against the door frame. You realized he was using his body's motion to check you out too.

The anger inside you dissipated quite quickly and that was good enough of a reason to be angry again. It felt like your brain was short circuiting, struggling to control emotions properly.

"Maybe you could play at a more reasonable hour. Not this early in the morning," you blurted out before you could make sense of your own words.

He chuckled. It wasn't mocking you at all, it was as if he enjoyed being chastised.

"It's 12 PM," he informed while coughing to mask his chuckle.

12 PM? You felt your shoulders slump down a little. You were making a fool of yourself, not only that, you probably looked crazy. Sleep deprived, irritated, standing in your hot neighbour's doorstep wearing bunny pyjamas.

And then, your mouth lost all filter.

"Well, I lost track of time since you couldn't keep it down last night," you accused.

The pierced eyebrow arched up. "Last night?"

"Yes! You were really loud last night!" you felt your cheeks blush.

"Me?" his brow furrowed. And for a minute, you thought he was trying to play dumb.

"Yes! And it's been two weekends in a row now!"

His mouth parted in bewilderment. "Oh, no," he chuckled awkwardly. "I'm afraid that wasn't me."

The heat from your cheeks was so prominent now you swore that it would show on your face and neck.

"Maybe your girlfriend's been cheating on you cause I heard them having really really loud sex!"

His lower lip was still hanging a little, his brow deeply furrowed but he composed himself quickly to say: "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Well, whatever! Just try to be more prudent of your neighbours!" you hushed and then stomped off before you could embarrass yourself any further.

"Prudent," you heard him snort. "Kay. I'll keep it in mind! Nice meeting you!"

As soon as you closed your apartment door you let out a long frustrated groan.

You made your way back to your bed. Slumping down on your pillows and squishmallows to let out yet again another groan.

But your neighbour didn't use his guitar again.

Suffering from chronic insomnia could vary depending on the person experiencing it.

The first time you remember having insomniac nights was when you were in university, pulling all-nighters had affected your sleeping habits and in the aftermath, you'd find yourself waking up in the middle of the night feeling just as energetic to go for a run.

So you've tried a variety of options to counterattack the insomnia. Ranging from sleeping pills, calming teas, meditating, to some more questionable ones.

The one option that you resorted to sometimes when you were feeling up to it, you'd go to the gym. It wasn't as expensive, or addictive and it had good results on your overall wellbeing.

You closed your apartment door, the noise from it echoing along the long dust-smelly hall. As you walked to the elevator, you checked if you brought everything you needed with you, keys, id card, phone, earphones; the latter you already had them on you.

The doors parted and you stepped inside, a shadow followed you closely behind. You turned to see who it was, only to turn back around to face the reflecting doors of the elevator.

From the brief glimpse you caught of him, your attractive neighbour was leaning back against the mirrored elevator wall. He had swapped his earlier attire of washed-up jeans, a black t-shirt, and a denim jacket. He was carrying a large guitar case over one shoulder.

Pretending to be oblivious to his presence, you couldn't shake the feeling of being watched. Sneaking another glance through the mirrored elevator doors, you caught him looking at you briefly, his eyes taking in your entire frame. In the reflection, your eyes met his, and you sensed the corners of his lips rising in a small, knowing smile.

The blood on your cheeks seemed too burn. You bit your lip as you pretended to busy yourself on your phone, changing songs on your playlist frantically until the elevator stopped and you stepped out, rushing to the doors of the building.

The workout session that night was interesting, to say the least. As you were working on the mat, trying to strengthen your abdomen as best as you possibly could, your mind would wander elsewhere, inevitably falling on the thought of your hot neighbour.

You'd think on the way he looked leaning against the elevator wall, the very poise of him was unsettling. And something made you think that he probably knew the effect his looks had on people. Looks and attitude.

Involuntarily, you scoffed quite loudly in the middle of the gym. Like a knee-jerk reaction. Luckily no one seemed to notice you, but you felt embarrassed either way as you continued working out.

That night you had a sound sleep, much thanks to the exercise. It was all going al right until your dream turned into a really unusual one.

Because, you were in your bed, panting, squirming in your bedsheets. Then when you looked down, there was someone with you in the covers, you could see a shapeless someone on top of you under the sheets.

In your dream, you half knew what needed to happen next, as if you were a mere witness of your own wet dream. Your hands grabbed at the covers of the bed at the same time you experienced an orgasm, tensing your body in low whimpers and skin sizzling.

Slowly pulling your covers back you found a man of raven black hair slotted between your thighs, still ravaging your core with his mouth. Intuitively you knew who it was, but couldn't see his face, only the single silver ring adorning his eyebrow.

You woke up abruptly after that, feeling a tingling a rush of warmth in the apex of your thighs. Did you just...? Your hand snapped underneath your panties, fingers digging between your pussy lips to find out that you were pooling, your aching core pulsating in need for more attention.

A groan came out from your mouth. Feeling helpless, you went in and grabbed the drawer from your nightstand to get your vibrator, even though you knew that what you needed was something more than that.

Your thoughts couldn't go pass the fact that you just had a wet dream, one that included your neighbour who you barely knew. You tried to reason with yourself that you're just lonely, he is hot as fuck and been quite literally hammering loud sex into your bedroom wall for two weekends in a row.

Yeah, that sounds reasonable.

The jarring sound coming from the boiling kettle startled you.

You jolted and stood from your couch to turn off the stove. The steam when you poured the boiling water on your travel tea tumbler caressed your face, and you let the smell of peppermint tea leaves in inhaling a big breath.

It had been over a week since you got your manuscript back with all the comments from your editor, letting you know succinctly that now you had a lot of work to do.

But there was a suggestion from your editor and the publishing team in general that left you perplexed for what followed for the rest of the week.

Between all the things that needed fixing in terms of narrative and structure of your manuscript, your team suggested to maybe include some mature sex scenes. You knew from the moment you signed in for this novel that there was a possibility to write in some erotic scenes but it was never settled. And you thought you might have gotten away with it.

But your literary agent and newfound best friend, Yena, told you that it was almost inevitable. Your romance novels have been fine without sex scenes so far, but now that you had signed up for a lengthier fantasy trilogy including vampires, you just had to be more serious about it.

"You can't have sexy vampires without the sex part," Yena told you over the phone.

"Yes I can," you countered, feeling a bit stand offish.

"Your book is already rated for adults with all the violence it has. There is nothing bad with adding a few scenes of your main character getting dicked down."

You sighed and looked up to the ceiling, as if you'd might find some escape there. "You're sounding really ridiculous right now, Yen."

Yena laughed. "I know. This is me trying to convince you. Trust me, this will be great for sales."

"I don't care about sales," you lied a bit. You cared, but it wasn't at the top of your priority list.

"Well, I care. Will you do it for me?" you couldn't see her but you could imagine her big puppy eyes beaming at you.

"I'll work on it. But I can't make any promises."

"Nuh-uh," she tutted. "You pushed so hard to distance yourself from your teenage love romance novels. So now you commit."

"Pffft," you chuckled. "You got it."

"Hey, but take it easy," she suggested. "You're still behind the deadline."

You knew that. But there was an eagerness inside you to get this out in the world. You had been lucky to be picked up for your 'teenage love romance novels', but deep down you always wanted to write something into the fantasy-romance, or romansy, genre.

But now with the evident push in erotica lately, you also knew that this was going to be asked in your books. It was an option at the beginning, but you decided to play dumb about it.

However you couldn't play dumb any further.

So, you hid in the best place you knew. The rooftop was busy with the noise of the big city. Lights from the endless maze of tall buildings shut on and off sporadically. You could see the traffic lights change every few seconds, and cars honking every now and then.

You brought your tumbler with you to sip peppermint tea as the noise from the busy night swarmed your senses, you closed your eyes, taking the night in.

It would be nice to bring a chair.

Before you could react promptly, you picked up some faint noises from behind you, a shuffling of steps and suddenly, you opened your eyes to see your neighbour standing next to you.

"Oh my god," your hand flew to your jolting chest. "You fucking scared me."

He was looking up the sky, a calm expression on his face. When he heard you cuss he turned his smiling gaze to you. "Sorry. I didn't mean to."

"What are you doing here?" you asked, still a bit breathless.

Joshua shrugged, his hands were deep in his pockets. "I wanted to see where you'd go every time you take the stairs."

You eyed his dark frame up and down. Dressed in all black, black converse, jeans, t-shirt and leather jacket. He looked like he was attending a rock concert.

He noticed you eyeing him up, so you quickly had to put in: "You've seen me come here?"

"I only hear you. In the middle of the night, in the morning. You know, from someone who yelled at me for being 'loud', you do slam doors pretty loudly."

Your cheeks burned. "I didn't yell at you," you mumbled. "And you were the one who was really loud."

"It was nearly noon when I was playing," he smiled down at you.

"What about the nights you were loud too?"

"I told you," he pointed. "It wasn't me."

"I heard your girlfriend too," your brow furrowed. "Don't try to tell me that what I heard were two ghosts fucking."

The sound of your neighbor's laughter triggered a response within you. It seemed to intensify the warmth in your cheeks, yet the tightening sensation in your stomach was far more distracting.

"I don't have a girlfriend, 317," he crooned with his sweet voice.

"Well, I heard a woman," you insisted, trying to ignore that he called you by your apartment number. Three-one-seven. Anything could sound pretty coming from his mouth.

"Hasn't it occurred to you that I might have a roommate?" he asked, putting his arms up the border of the rooftop.

"Oh," you bit the inside of your cheek.

"Mmm-huh," he nodded his head once. "I suppose that your room is next to his and the woman you heard is his girlfriend."

"Crap," you muttered under a breath and you shut your eyes. "I am so so sorry."

"It's okay" he smiled politely and ran one of his large hands through his dark hair. "They can be quite loud, though."

"Right?" you murmured. "I'm still sorry you had to see me in such disarray, though."

"Disarray," he chuckled. "Why were you in disarray?"

He emphasized the word in a goofy tone, making you smile a little but you quickly rolled your eyes.

"Sometimes I get insomnia. Most nights actually," you told him simply. "And I'm quite protective of the few hours I do get to sleep."

"Protective is an understatement," he muttered. "More like feisty."

A laugh erupted from your belly. The sound made him look at you again with his smiling eyes.

"She can laugh," he said feigning surprise.

"She is not usually as feisty as you got to see a week ago," you countered. "You just had the misfortune of meeting me in a bad night."

"It wasn't even night time," he chuckled.

"Whatever," you quipped with a childlike tone and his smile grew broader.

The tea was cold when you lifted it to your lips. You poured more into the little pink cup in your tumbler, the steam lifting the city lights.

"So what brings a pretty girl like you here every night? Besides the insomnia" he asked, looking up to the building lights.

You looked at your neighbour. The sound of him calling you pretty shouldn't have the effect it had on you. Your mouth went dry and you felt the knot in your stomach tighten.

"I uh... come here for inspiration," you muttered shyly.

You knew you had zero reasons to trust him but damn, you were lonely.

His eyebrow arched slightly. "Inspiration," he repeated slowly.

"I'm a writer," you mumbled shyly, diverting your gaze from your hot neighbour.

"Oh, I see. Makes sense," he replied shortly.

"Why?"

"You say big boring words," he smirked.

"Big boring words," you blinked. "No I don't. That doesn't say I'm a writer anyway."

"It says that you're just boring, then," he teased.

"I'm not," you whined. "You're a tease."

He laughed, he was enjoying this. "I might be. But at least I don't say disarray, or what was it? Prudent."

"I like big boring words," you grumbled with a pout.

A soft sigh came from your neighbour, he had a small smile on his face.

You drank your cup of tea while it was still hot and poured a little more.

"Am I interrupting your moment of inspiration, then?" he wondered.

"No. I'm actually procrastinating," you sighed. "I have to fix some subplots of my manuscript. I don't even know what to write yet so I came here to escape from it for a bit until I figure it out."

He arched one eyebrow again, his lip popping outwards and nodded. "I'm going to pretend I understood what you just said."

Fuck. He was also cute. The sharp pain in your stomach returned. It irritated you a little that he wasn't actually doing anything and you still thought he was cute. Or hot.

"I... was asked to add sex scenes to my novel," you rolled your eyes again, cringing from embarrassment.

His eyes read your face for a brief moment and you resisted the urge to hide away. You found it a bit amusing that your neighbour didn't seem to shy away from the abrupt shift in the conversation topic at all.

"And... you don't want to?" he mused, his brows almost touching together.

"I don't–well I do want to," you muttered, feeling defeated.

Your neighbour tuned his back to the border of the rooftop and propped his elbows up at his sides.

"I'm confused," he mumbled.

"Apparently it's a trend that guarantees success in the genre I work with. This book deal is important to me and I don't want it to fail just because I can't write a few graphic scenes."

The corners of his lips rose slightly. "How graphic do they have to be? The scenes."

"Well... let's just say I can't just do the 'pan over to the next day' bit," you sighed. "I agreed to write explicit sex scenes and I don't–I can't write them."

With a frustrated groan, you buried your face in your hands. Your heart was beating so hard and loud in your chest that it was also reverberating in your ears.

"Why?" you heard him ask slowly.

You turned your back the same way he had a moment ago, leaning your back against the brick mid wall. "I don't know. I just go blank," you murmured.

The truth is that you lacked first-hand experience.

What little experience you had, it wasn't something you could even put into work for something to write about. And all the times you read explicit erotic scenes, you couldn't even compare it to your experiences, so it seemed more like a fantasy.

You knew you didn't actually require the experience to write, but still it would be a good starting point.

"You lack the inspiration?" your neighbour mused with a grin on his face. He cocked his head to look at you, his dark hair falling away from his forehead a bit.

You gulped.

"Yeah," you sighed, feeling your cheeks burn as you looked up at the night sky.

It grew quiet for a moment, even the busy noise from the city appeared to have died down.

"Well," he said, starting to walk away, "I wish I could help but I have to go to work. Have fun in your little writing adventure, 317."

Your heart still strummed in your ears when you heard yourself say, "Wait!"

Joshua stopped midway through the rooftop and turned to face you.

"You can help me," the words escaped your mouth. "F-find some inspiration."

The tall dark haired man closed the distance between you. His frame was so tall that you had to look up to find his big curious eyes.

"What do you mean?" he cocked his head to the side.

You sighed, trying not to roll your eyes at how ridiculous you felt while asking your neighbour to fuck you. "I need to build up some experience. To write."

The corners of his pretty lips raised as he spoke. "You want to use me to have something to write about?"

"No," you breathed. "I want you to use me."

As soon as the words left your mouth, you felt something in the air between you and him change.

His dark eyes searched your face in disbelief. "You're actually asking me to fuck you."

The tone in his voice was pure awe.

"Yes," you sighed.

"My, you aren't as boring as I imagined you to be," he marvelled, a playful smile on his rosy lips.

The last bit of sanity in your mind vanished the moment before you asked your hot neighbour to be your fuck buddy. Whatever prompted you to muster the courage to get the words out was something you didn't know you had inside you.

But he wasn't saying no.

"For how long?"

"Till I finish the manuscript," you blurted out, feeling a strange reassurance invade your emotions.

His eyes searched your face, their impatience palpable, as though you had triggered a chord of fascination in his mind. "What do I get from this?"

"You get to have your pretty, boring neighbour in any way and whenever you want to," you whispered.

There was a strange feeling of assertiveness that replaced the messy nervousness from a minute ago. For you could no longer ignore the times you'd caught him staring at you. Even in your bunny pyjamas.

As if trying to test you, he grabbed your chin between his thumb and pointer finger. You blinked and gasped at the touch, a mix of emotions invaded you instantly. Your skin prickled.

"I don't even know your name," he narrowed his eyes. "You want me to fuck you but you haven't given me your name."

You mumbled your name out, feeling hot in the face but still not moving an inch from his grasp.

"Such a pretty name," he said, repeating your name, savouring it in his tongue. It sounding pretty coming from his lips and sweet voice, a tingle rushed down your spine.

"So much better than 317."

That was the last thing you said before his lips slid in between yours. A small sigh bubbled up in your chest and you let your eyelids flutter shut as his lips moved in yours.

It was a brief, sweet kiss. But it already had your heart battering against your chest frantically.

"I have to go now," he whispered, still so close to your mouth you felt his lips brush against yours. He placed a small peck on them before pulling away from you.

"Do I... get your number?" you felt stupid asking that.

You saw his back as he walked towards the door to the inside of the building. "Just knock on my door and I'll come by. Or I'll knock on yours, whatever you prefer."

"Mine," you called. "Knock on mine."

Your neighbour pulled the door open and before disappearing inside he placed his free hand up his forehead, saluting at you. "Got it. See you tomorrow then."

Tomorrow.

"What?!" you gasped, but he was already gone.

Most sundays are quiet for you. Since you actually had set a boundary for yourself and made sundays for yourself only. No work calls or mails, and definitely not turning the computer on.

Normally you would've stayed in bed, or go grocery shopping. Whatever you hadn't done during the week you would tend to on your free day.

This sunday however, was different.

A constant buzzing in your head made it nearly impossible to unwind. You even woke up earlier than usual. So you decided to get on with your sunday routine as you normally would.

Said routine consisted in deep cleaning your apartment. Normally you would do the laundry and kept yourself busy tidying up your apartment completely. It wasn't much work, since you lived alone and you considered yourself an organized person.

But today it was a hard task to tackle. You tried to keep your mind away from the memory of your neighbour kissing you softly, tauntingly.

As you were bathing, you laid a plan in your head. You knew you had to relax so, planning your next steps seemed like the best idea to follow down your path to stop your body from being so jittery.

First step was to move your collection of squishmallows to your study. There was a couch in your study so you laid all your squishmallows on it.

Next step was finding the best piece of underwear you had. Now, despite having little to no action in the sex department, you did treat yourself to nice things. So you wore a nice set of panties and bra.

It was nearly 9PM. And you started to actually feel your body burn in anticipation. Joshua didn't say when he would come around, but you thought that it would have to be soon.

Aside from chronic insomnia, you were also a victim to your vivid imagination. You couldn't help but daydream of the things you wanted to do with your neighbour.

His pretty lips on your body, his large hands caressing on your skin...

You let out a frustrated sigh. Joshua wasn't even in your apartment and you were already feeling a little bit impatient. Pathetic. You felt pathetic.

The minutes turned into hours, and you were deeply tempted to just go out and knock on his door like he said you could. But you didn't want to tell on just how desperate you were. If that were even possible still.

At 11PM, you changed into your pyjamas which weren't the bunny ones; just plain blue shorts and a matching top. Feeling embarrassed, but still not sleepy to go to sleep, you decided to wind down in the best way you knew how.

So you were sitting at your couch, playing a videogame with headphones on when you heard a thud over the soothing music of the game.

You removed your headphones, curiously looking at the door. And then you heard it clearly. A knock.

All the plans you had made in your head vanished the moment you saw him.

Scanning him up and down, the very first you noticed that his black hair was wet and pushed back in a relaxed style. He was wearing a white t-shirt along with some black sweatpants.

"Sorry I'm late," was the first thing he said.

"That you are," you pointed but moved aside to let him in since it was nearing midnight and you didn't feel like having a conversation with him at your doorstep.

He crossed your door and noticed the shoe shelf sitting in the entrance and stepped out of his Nike's, leaving them neatly beside your shoes.

You saw him to your living room, where you had abandoned your Switch and headphones. Seeing your neighbour standing in your living room made you feel butterflies in your stomach.

You half expected him to kiss you as soon as he crossed your door. Crashing his lips in yours, his strong arms pinning you to a wall. Like in movies.

"I'm sorry to keep you waiting," he said. "Something came up and I didn't have a way to let you know."

"It's okay," you sighed. "I wasn't expecting you'd come."

The pierced brow arched. "Why? I told you I'd come."

"I know," you replied. "I grew tired of waiting."

Your face tingled as he noticed you were ready to go to bed, sending a flush of warmth across your cheeks.

"Mm, I can see that," he noted, taking two steps towards you. "I'm here now. What can I do to make it up to you?"

He stood so close to you that you could catch the smell of his shampoo and soap from his skin.

"I," you gulped feeling your heart beating on your throat, "d-don't know."

He showed a playful smile reached his eyes. "You don't know? This is your idea, miss writer, just tell me what you want."

"I didn't exactly make a list," you muttered, even though secretly you had crafted some fantasies during the time you spent waiting for him to show up.

"Then why don't we just get a feel of each other first?" he suggested, surveying your face as if not knowing how you'll react. "We can get into making your list for next time."

You nodded with your head quietly, and his lower lip pressed up in a cheeky smile. Probably revelling at the reconfirmation that there will be more nights like this. Joshua leaned toward you, one hand on your chin, holding your face up to his.

"Wait," you breathed, and when your hand flew to the middle of his chest, you felt his lean pecs.

He stopped as soon as he heard you. The smile faded and he searched your eyes.

"I uh... haven't done this in a while," you mumbled awkwardly. "Years, actually."

His brow furrowed slightly. "I'm okay with that," he mumbled. "Just tell me what you like and what's off the table."

A sheepish smile appeared on your flushed face. "I've only done vanilla. So... anything's on the table, really. I'm game."

The hand that was on your chin moved down to a shoulder, pushing off from you to look at your frame. "Anything?" his eyebrows arched, his lips smiling. "You can't be serious."

"Why?" you laughed feeling embarrassed.

"You've ever done something other than missionary?" he asked, you could tell he wasn't mocking your sexual experiences or lack there of, he was genuinely curious.

"Uhm, cowgirl," you muttered, your tone sounding off.

He smiled sweetly. "And you really want to try new things in one night?"

"Why, we could just do what you like," you mumbled, feeling a little too eager. It made your cheeks flush again.

"You need a bit more practice for most things I'm into," he put in simply.

"Oh," you blinked.

That made you think what could he possibly be into that you weren't ready for in that moment. But decided not to pry any further yet.

"Have you ever had an orgasm?" he asked suddenly.

"Of course," you blurted out, feeling a rush of blood flow to your cheeks again.

He rolled his big eyes swiftly. "Let me rephrase: has someone ever made you cum?"

Your breath hitched slightly, but just about enough for him to notice. He only nodded with his head when you didn't vocalize an answer.

"That's what I thought," he mumbled, his eyes locked on yours. "If we're going to do this, I think we need to start there."

You coughed up a chuckle, feeling your fingers shake a little on his chest. "And how are you going to do that?"

He lowered his gaze, and you might have felt yourself grow smaller under his curious eyes.

"I think we can find that out together," he whispered. His hand moved from your shoulder, sliding on the crook of your neck and then you felt your self angle your face for his lips.

At first it was only a small peck, his lips captured yours and broke away briefly once. And then they slid in yours expertly, dominating the kiss, you only followed.

As the kiss deepened, your lips became more comfortable in his. Your body felt more relaxed as your other hand joined in, feeling his hard chest through his white t-shirt.

You could almost swear that Joshua felt your heartbeat with his hand on your neck when it circled to the back of your neck, fingers tangling on your hair, pulling you closer. A moan escaped you and your lips parted on his, giving access to his tongue.

Testing, his tongue lapped on yours once, the noise you made only made him repeat the movement again, at the same moment one of your hands slid from his chest to his lats, and you heard his breath shift a little bit.

That gave you a bit of confidence. You pulled your head back, your lips leaving his briefly.

His rosy lips parted a little, but before he could say anything, you took one of his wrists and started to lead him to your bedroom.

The soft warm light from your night stand lamp was just enough for you to see him clearly. But when you got to your bedroom and saw him standing there, your mind went blank again. It was just as if you didn't know what needed to happen next.

Joshua noticed. He smiled under a small sigh, using the wrist you were still grabbing to pull you to his body again. "Come here," he muttered.

Your chest clashed with his with a small yelp from your mouth. The sudden movement startled you a little. But you liked feeling the proximity to his hard body.

"I'll take care of you," he mumbled. "You don't have to do anything, just tell me if you want to stop. Got it?"

A strange warm feeling swarmed inside your chest. "Okay," you breathed.

"We can take it slow," he suggested with a small shrug.

A thought emerged in your head when hearing his words of reassurance. This wasn't what you had expected from the hot rockstar neighbour at all. You had half expected him to throw you in the bed and follow on what you had dreamt about him.

You blinked. "Don't hold back," you blurted out, "I don't want you to."

A chuckle came out of his mouth. "Okay, princess. Whatever you say," he mumbled before cupping your face to kiss you again.

"'m serious," you stuttered in his mouth.

"Get in the bed," his response was also muffled by your lips. His hands found your waist and he gently pushed you, making you take two steps backwards.

You felt your back hit the edge of your high bed and you sat down, at the same moment that Joshua took the hem of his t-shirt and pulled it up his body and dropped it on the floor. Your mind went blank, it happened just as when you had to sit down and write.

Involuntarily, you swallowed thickly at the sight of his bare torso and arms. God, he's so fucking hot, you thought. The t-shirt had ruffled his wet hair a bit, so his hand brushed it back as his eyes found yours.

He approached toward the bed and placed a knee beside you. "Lie back, princess," he muttered softly.

Princess. You felt your skin tingle at the sound of him talking to you in that way. Even hearing him calling you princess was hot. And you were discovering how much your body liked it.

You scooted backwards in your bed until you were in the centre of it, your knees pulled up. Joshua followed you as you moved in your bed, until he stopped before your feet, kneeling on your light-pink duvet.

Lying down on your fluffy pillows, you got a good view of his wide and lean chest and shoulders, his strong arms and his hands as they reached your knees.

With light fingers, he caressed your thighs as he moved them to slot himself between your legs. Your skin prickled under his touch and your eyelids fluttered a bit.

Joshua made notice of your bedroom, as if he was exploring it with his eyes and his eyes fell on your metal bed posts. He smiled slowly, and you could almost see what was formulating in his mind.

"You want to tie me down?" you mumbled.

"Would you like that?" he asked, his head cocking to one side.

"I think so," you muttered sheepishly, body squirming under his gaze impatiently.

His hand cupped your chin, and he leaned down, his free hand sinking on your pillow next to your head as his lips slipped between yours. "I'll keep that in mind, sweetheart. For later."

He continued kissing you, his hand moving from your chin and soon you felt it on the other side of your head in your pillow.

"We can stop whenever you want to. Okay?" he whispered before his lips trailed down your jaw, pressing gentle and wet kisses.

"Okay," you whispered back, closing your eyes when Joshua got to the crook of your neck, planting open mouthed kisses, the brush of his tongue in your skin made you squirm and moan softly in his hear.

A hand crept up your cheek, his lips left the crook of your neck and slipped in your lips sweetly, slowly. You felt your heart racing, thrumming in your neck as his lips parted, and knowingly you gave access to his tongue with a moan from you.

Your hands cradled the back of his neck, pulling him closer as you felt yourself aching under his touch, and under the fast, hot kiss, his tongue sweeping on yours, eliciting moans and whimpers from you.

"That feels good," you muttered when his lips went down on the other side of your neck.

Joshua only hummed softly in response when he heard you, then two of his fingers tugged the neck of your top to leave more open mouthed kisses on your collarbone. You felt your skin prickle, your nipples hardening against the thin fabric of your top.

"Joshua," you whispered, craning your neck to give him more space for him to kiss.

"Mmm?" he hummed again as the tip of his tongue lapped along your collarbones, earning a whimper from you.

When you made no response he stopped kissing your neck and lifted his head to face you properly.

"Undress me," you breathed nervously, your fingers twitched a bit on the back of his neck.

He grinned, planting a small kiss on your chin, and another on your lower lip. His hands grabbed the lower part of your top and tugged it upwards.

"Arch your back for me, princess," he mumbled.

When he removed your top off your body, a hand caressed your bumpy skin, his thumbs playing with your nipples to watch you squirm and moan in pleasure. He knew you liked that, so he bent down and captured one of your nipples with his lips, while the other was still being fumbled between his fingers.

The noises coming from your mouth only egged him on, his tongue circling your nipple and kissing it, sucking gently earning louder moans from you and then he would carry onto doing the same for the other nipple.

The sensations overwhelmed you. The smell of his shampoo on his wet hair as his head bent down to tease your nipples with his mouth, the inevitable response of your body as your skin prickled and your aching core pooled in your panties, throbbing desperately for attention.

You held his body, one hand tangled in his raven black hair and the other down the back of his neck. Breathing hard at the sensation of his tongue swiftly licking your tits, his teeth grazing softly on your skin and tugging to find out whatever made your moans louder, needier.

Kisses trailed down from your sternum all the way down to your belly button, casually lapping your skin with his tongue, tasting your skin as if he was familiarizing with it. You bit your lip down when the sensation of his tongue on your skin sent shivers down your spine, making you squirm in your bed.

You watched him lift his face, his dark eyes finding yours.

"Don't do that," he muttered, a thumb pulling down your lip from your front teeth. "I like hearing you."

"I don't want to be loud," you mumbled shyly.

His eyebrow lifted. "Why?" he smiled playfully. "You can get payback on my roommate now."

You chuckled. "That's rude, Joshua," you said, but considered it for a second.

His lean shoulders shrugged. "I think is fair game."

And then his fingers grabbed at the band of your shorts, his body pulling back on his knees to yank the other piece of your pyjamas down your legs and throwing them away.

"You're so pretty," he muttered, slotting himself between your legs, bending down to deposit a hot kiss on your lips. "So hard for me to say no."

"You're not so bad yourself," you blurted, a shy smile emerging on your lips. "Not bad at all, actually."

He chuckled, a soft sound that made your chest flood with a warm sensation. "D'you like me?"

His question caught you off guard, and for a moment and you hesitated, thinking that he might be teasing you. Then, you took a deep breath and met his gaze.

"Yeah, I do," you admitted with a frustrated sigh. "I like you a lot."

He let out a small giggle. "Oh, really?" he asked as he continued placing sweet pecks on your chin and under your jaw.

"Yeah," you breathed, feeling a bit dazed. "I even had a dream about you once."

He hummed, his head was now between your legs, kissing your inner thighs as his hands caressed your legs with soft touches. "Tell me more about this dream."

"Y-you, oh god," you uttered at the same time his mouth nibbled gently at the soft skin of your thigh, your grip on his hair tightened. "You were in my bed with me."

Joshua lifted his head to find your eyes, the ghost of a smirk showed on his red lips. "Pretty baby had a wet dream of me?" he cooed, his fingers gingerly tugging at the band of your shorts.

You swallowed thickly, seeing his fingers tug at your pjs and nodded.

"Tell me what happened in your dream," he muttered. You could notice he wasn't being a tease now, there was a relaxed tinge in his eyes as he slid your shorts down your legs.

"I–don't remember much," you stuttered a bit, seeing him caress your legs again, his large hands on your skin. "You were beneath my covers and..."

Then two of his fingers slid down between your legs, gently touching your clothed core. The movement was swift, but it had you stuttering and arching your back under the tingling sensation on your core that ached for more.

"God," you whispered, shutting your eyelids tight. "Mmm..."

"What happened next, princess?" he purred, his fingers moving to the last piece of clothing you were wearing, sliding it down your legs slowly, a sticky string of your arousal trickling down your thigh.

"Uhmm," you hummed as you saw him slot himself between your thighs, kissing down your belly, nibbling gently at the soft flesh of your thigh, licking the string of arousal that had trickled on your skin.

You gasped loudly when you felt his hot wet tongue so near your pussy. Your fingers instantly grabbed his dark wet hair. "Y-your face was between my thighs and you were... you were... eating me out."

You caught a glimpse of his smirk, and he shot you a glance with those large, expressive brown eyes. "Like this?" he muttered before bending his head down your core, licking a strip of arousal with his tongue.

Your back arched involuntarily as your words got caught in your throat, followed by a long high keen whimper. "Oh, m'god. Joshua," your voice sounded broken and distant. You felt lost in the movement of his tongue down your soaked core, licking your arousal and teasing your clit with the tip of his tongue. "Yeah, just like that."

His tongue gave a few gentle strokes to your core, teasing and tasing. He hummed while doing it, a sound of approval before pressing his tongue flatly on your sensitive bud, moving his head up and down in small movements, moving his tongue on you.

While he was exploring your cunt with his mouth, you couldn't stop the sounds of your whimpering and moaning coming from your mouth, your body squirming and trembling with every movement of his mouth on you.

"Oh–god," you whimpered, feeling your body move uncontrollably on your bed. You screwed your eyes shut, and tried to calm down but it was just too much.

"What's wrong?" he asked, pulling his mouth from your core with a smacking noise from his lips.

"N-nothing it's just–ahmm," you gulped hard when you felt his breath caress your sensitive clit. "I've never been eaten out before," you managed to get out.

You darted a look at him, his hands were still angling your legs open for him so it was easy for him to dip his head down and plant soft wet kisses on the soft inner side of your thigh.

"Think of how good you're feeling," he muttered softly. "Think of how good you're going to feel when you cum all over my face," he said and then ran his tongue flatly on your thigh.

You squirmed and moaned, the crudeness of his words sent a warm sizzling wave through your body.

"Can you do that, baby? Just relax, let your body lose while I eat your pretty pussy out," he muttered.

Before you could give him a verbal reply, his tongue slid across your folds again, the only response coming out of you was in the form of a loud moan, your fingers tangling on his wet dark hair again.

Then his hands crept on your lower belly to stop you from moving, as his mouth sucked on your clit, nibbling at the soft flesh with his lips, testing you. You moaned again when the tip of his tongue swirled around your clit, but kept commanding your body to lie still and relax.

The sizzling sensation in your body grew, you could savour your release, your face and limbs growing numb as Joshua drew you closer, his mouth ravaging your cunt as if he were hungry for the taste of you. His hands pressing down your belly at the same time the tip of his tongue darted at the bud, swiftly and unstopping.

Your breath hitched and your eyes shot open, your hands clenching at his soft wet hair. "Oh–," you whimpered. "Oh, Joshua. Don't stop. Please, don't s-stop."

Something inside you snapped, and you couldn't hold it any longer. A fiery wave of pleasure took over your body, your limbs succumbing to the warm trembling orgasm.

All you could hear were the sounds of pleasure you made as you were cumming on his mouth. The whimpers and cries, moaning his name until you started panting, his tongue relentlessly flicking your clit until you felt it ache.

Breathless, your fingers relaxed on his hair as you came down your high, his tongue still licking softly at your core, the flickering movement around your clit made you flinch. You sighed hard, noticing there was a small trail of drool in the corner of your mouth.

Joshua saw you wipe your lips with the back of your hand as he climbed on top of your body, licking his chapped lips, still savouring your taste in them. He dipped his head to capture your lips in his, his tongue swiftly making its way to yours so you tasted yourself in his mouth.

A moan bubbled in your chest. You had never tasted yourself in someone else's lips. You tasted slightly salty, almost had no taste at all but there was a taste in his tongue you recognized as yours.

"You taste so fucking sweet, princess," Joshua whispered as he deposited small feathery kisses on your lips.

You hummed, still languid from your orgasm but you could feel your core still spasming a little. "Joshua," you whimpered in his lips.

"Mmm? What's wrong?" he muttered, his hand cupped the side of your face.

"Want more," you muttered, pressing your lips in his.

"We have all night, sweetheart," you felt his lips smile.

"I want you, Joshua," you whispered, feeling shy at your word choice, even though it could still be open to interpretation.

Joshua was lying on his side next to your body. He was still half dressed in his black sweatpants, his bare torso showing his muscly arms, chest and shoulders.

He smiled softly when your fingers traced an invisible line on his collarbones, almost as if they had mind on their own.

"Sure you're okay, sweetheart?" he muttered, capturing your hand in his, his fingers started tangling with yours playfully.

His hand was huge in comparison with yours, the size difference looked almost cute. You nodded. "Yeah. I want to keep going."

Compliant he nodded, his pierced eyebrow lifted slightly. "What do you want me to do?"

Your other hand slid down the back of his head, pulling his face closer to yours. Your lips locked on his, to capture his lower lip with your teeth, grazing, the tip of your tongue looking for his shyly as he moaned softly on your mouth.

"Just take me, Joshua," you whimpered, your lips brushing on his still. "I want you inside me."

He pressed lazy kisses on your lips. "Pretty girl is greedy," he hummed. "Just came on my face and wants to cum again."

You giggled, feeling shy under his teasing. "Stop it," you whispered.

His fingers tangled in your hair as he pulled you into another quick kiss. "I have to get you ready for me first, sweetheart," he mumbled.

Your eyes followed him as he got out of bed, you saw his stocky bare back and the dimples where his muscles bulged in his shoulder blades.

"What d'you mean?" you whispered, searching for his face.

"Are you on birth control?" he asked, his voice was low as he seemed to be appreciating your naked body lying on your bed.

You shook your head. "Mmm, nope," you muttered.

He nodded, seeming knowingly. His hand moved to dig in the pocket of his sweatpants. The only thing he had brought with his person was a pack of condoms, which he placed on your nightstand before removing his sweatpants and stepping out of them.

You hadn't noticed before the big bulge in his pants, but you did now. It looked huge, even if it was still kept inside his underwear. The outline of his hard cock pressed on the stretchy fabric of his black underwear, there was a small wet stain where the tip of his cock rested.

Suddenly you realised that maybe he was a bit too big for your body. Your past lovers, though evidently not many, weren't as big as he was, and you haven't even seen the full length of his cock. You gulped hard.

Joshua climbed back on your high bed, slumping his body beside yours again. He cupped your chin, pressing a chaste kiss on your lips.

"You're so pretty," he muttered with his sweet voice, his eyes studying your face briefly. "I knew I wanted to do this the moment I saw you standing on my doorstep, all grumpy at me in bunny pjs."

"Y-you wanted me?" you stuttered, your face blazing hot.

His lips brushed yours softly, almost kissing but not quite. "I wanted to see you flustered. Wanted to see your pretty face when I make you needy," he muttered on your lips.

You tried replying, but his hand was too distracting, moving from your chin to the apex between your thighs. His ring and middle finger ran down between your pussy lips, sliding in your wetness.

"Then you asked me to fuck you–my pretty neighbour. Never would've imagined that," he sighed almost as if in awe.

You flinched and your eyelids fluttered when the tip of his middle finger slipped in your entrance. Your hands grabbed at his shoulders when Joshua buried his finger inside you. "Oh, my–Joshua."

He bit his lip at the same time he grinned. God, he was insanely hot. "You like that?" he muttered, searching your eyes.

"Yes," you whimpered, feeling hot in the face. "I can take more."

He complied silently. His ring finger slipped along the middle finger, the squelching sounds from your cunt caused by his two fingers as he pumped them inside and out you deliciously.

"You want more?" the corners of his pretty lips rose.

"Please," you whimpered breathily. And you could see that he liked it, hearing your pleas.

"But baby, you're so tight," he replied softly while looking at his hand work on your cunt. "Practically sucking my fingers in."

You bit your lower lip and closed your eyes, feeling his fingers massage your cunt expertly. Whimpers were muffled in your mouth when Joshua crooked his fingers against your soft inner walls, the squelching noise growing even louder.

"I want to hear you, sweetheart," he muttered, and you opened your eyes to see him. You were face to face, since he was lying on his side next to you in your bed, his hand between your thighs, stimulating your pussy, stretching its walls with his fingers.

"Joshua," you whimpered when the palm of his hand pressed on your clit his fingers massaging your walls. The pressure in your body starting to build up.

"Mm?" he hummed, pressing a soft kiss on your cheek. Then you felt his fingers scissor inside you, stretching your cunt more.

"Oh, god," you moaned above the sounds of your soaking wet pussy. "Please, Joshua. Fuck me, please. I want to feel you inside me."

His eyes widened slightly, as if something stirred inside his mind every time he heard your pleas for him.

He grinned and kissed your lips before pulling his fingers out of you. You shivered at the loss of stimulation but felt the anticipation rising in your body almost immediately when he stood yet again from your high bed.

"I want you here baby," he placed a hand on the edge of your mattress.

You moved in your bed as he got rid of his underwear, making you stop and freeze when you saw his hardened cock slap his lower abdomen.

It was large and thick, for some reason it looked heavy too, leaning to the side a little bit. You spotted a faint mark of a vein that trailed on the length of it, and that the dark pink tip of his cock looked wet in his precum.

While Joshua grabbed a condom from your nightstand and opened it, you placed your ass at the edge of your high bed, realising that he was just as tall that his hips were just on par with yours.

Joshua rolled down the latex down his thick cock, his hands grabbing your hips to position you so that his cock aligned with your core. He bit his lower lip as he dragged his cockhead across your wet cunt, smearing your pussy lips and clit with it before stopping at your core, the crown of his cockhead teasing you slightly, making your breath hitch.

"Ready, princess?"

"'m ready," you muttered, searching for his big doe eyes, which were wild in lust.

He grabbed your hips, supporting your legs with his arms as he started to push his hips to meet yours, his cock sliding inside your wet gummy walls so slow what you could feel him filling you up inch by inch.

It stung a little. You glanced down at where your bodies were connecting, the sight of his cock disappearing inside your cunt was so arousing that you felt a rush of heat flood inside you. You moaned in both pain and pleasure as he slid himself to the hilt, filling you up so good like you've never been before.

"You're okay?" he asked, his voice taut and breathing hard.

"Yeah," you breathed, lying back down on your bed. "'m fine."

A second later, Joshua started pushing his hips against yours, moving slowly as if he were trying to get you to adjust to him.

"You feel so fucking tight, princess," he gasped softly when he started to move faster. "So good."

He gave you a few shallow thrusts to then hoist your legs up and placed your ankles on his shoulders.

You thought the position was awkward, until Joshua pushed his length in again pressing his hips down on you, making you feel his cock buried fully inside you.

"Ahhmm," you tried to utter, your hands clenched in your duvet as your eyes rolled back. "You feel good too. S-so big."

You heard him chuckle. "All for you, sweetheart," he muttered, his breathy moans became more frequent as he thrusted his cock in and out your cunt in a delicious pace.

You opened your eyes to search his face. He was working on your body as if it were the only thing that mattered, his hands keeping your legs resting on his shoulders, his eyes taking you in, flickering down to where his cock was pushing in and out.

Your eyes followed down your lower belly, where you could feel his cockhead hitting your gummy walls each time he pushed his cock inside you.

Then, his pace started to pick up speed and depth. Almost methodically, as if he already knew you needed it without you having to verbalize it. His thrusts became more forceful–animalistic. His hands gripped your legs tighter, his arms circling on your legs to keep your body in place as he rammed his cock inside you.

Joshua had his eyes closed, his sweaty temple rested on the side of your knee as he bit down his lower lip. "Fuck, princess. You sound so fucking good too."

The lewd sounds coming from your mouth were almost foreign to you, unknown to your ears. Words coiled in your throat, broken moans trying to verbalize just how good he felt inside you. You'd whimper when you felt his cock reaching a glorious spot you didn't know could be reached, every time he hit there you felt yourself sink down in pleasure.

"Joshua, I'm–" you called in a breathy whimper.

"You're going to cum again?" he asked, and groaned softly when you nodded with your head. "Rub your clit for me. I'll cum with you."

Your fingers slipped between your pussy lips, finding your swollen clit and started rubbing, reaching your climax in just a few seconds. Joshua's generous thrusts on you and your fingers working on your clit.

A long moan came came from your mouth as tears sprung from your eyes almost instantly, your walls clenching erratically around his cock as he fucked you relentlessly through your high.

"Oh–Joshua," you whimpered breathlessly. "Fuck! Fuck. Fuckfuckfuck."

Your eyes fluttered shut as you felt your body languidly reach its high, a rush of warmth flowed between your legs. But it was wet–it came gushing out from you, smearing on the soft side of your thighs and onto Joshua's crotch.

He groaned loudly, shoving his cock inside your cunt to his hilt, in and out, until the plunging of his hips became mindless. You opened your eyes to see his face, his furrowed brows, his parted pretty lips and the sweat that covered his face faintly.

God, he's just so fucking pretty.

In languid movements, you removed your hand from your clit and felt your arms slump on your duvet as you tried to catch your breath. Joshua's hips were coming to a stop lazily on yours as you heard him breathe hard as well.

You blinked slowly, and saw him look down his body, sneaking a finger between your bodies to run his fingertip on his pubic hair. "You squirted on me, baby," he muttered in a tone of surprise.

"That's what it was then," you said sounding almost as surprised as him, you glanced down to find that he was covered in a glistening wetness.

His chapped lips rose in a faint smile. "Was it your first?"

You nodded with your head, still feeling breathless. "Yeah," you breathed. "It felt good."

He replied with a nod too. "I know," he panted, his chest rising and coming down in heavy breaths. "So fucking good."

He eased your legs back down on the bed as he slowly pulled out from you.

"My legs are shaking," you whispered feeling embarrassed.

He nodded knowingly, he gently held your shaky legs and motioned you to lie down on the centre of the bed. "I'll get myself cleaned up," he muttered.

"The bathroom is the first door on the left," you muttered unconsciously as you crawled languidly to slump down on your pillows face down.

"I know," he chuckled and walked out your room.

A few moments later, you heard water running, the continuous sound of the stream seemed to calm you down from your high and you decided that you could fall asleep like that, naked in your bed and tired after all the work Joshua put you through.

You don't know how much time passed when you heard Joshua return to your bedroom, but you turned to see him picking up his things from the floor. When he found his underwear, he put it on with one swift movement.

"Leaving already?" you asked.

He lifted his head, you realised that you had startled him. "I just thought you were asleep," he explained. "I can leave if you want."

"Can you stay?" your voice sounded small.

Joshua's face seemed to relax. "Of course," he replied.

You patted the space next to your bed and he smiled softly, climbing on the bed and lying down next to you.

"D'you want to cuddle?" he asked with a small sigh. "I don't know what you like doing for aftercare."

"For what?" you mumbled.

He chuckled. "What did you usually do with your ex partners after sex?" he asked, his curious eyes locking on yours.

You shrugged. "I'd usually leave. Call a taxi, dunno," you replied, frowning. "You?"

"God," he sighed, suddenly sounding disappointed. "Who you've been with?"

"A couple of idiots," you replied flatly.

He rolled his eyes and nodded briefly as if saying 'no shit', but a faint smile rose on his red lips. "Turn around," he instructed gently and you did, turning your back to him.

His strong arms encircled you, pulling you closer to his warm body on the bed. A warm sensation filled your chest, making it hard to breathe.

"This is aftercare?" you mumbled, feeling a bit uneasy.

"You don't like it? We can do summin' else if you want," you felt him shrug behind you.

A small kiss pressed on your shoulder blade, soothing you instantly. Then another, his breath brushed your skin and caused it to prickle.

"This is fine," you mumbled, closing your eyes briefly.

"Kay," he whispered.

After a brief while, it grew quiet in your bedroom. You lied so still that you could feel Joshua's heartbeat against your back, his soft breathing landing on your back.

"Are you okay?" he asked softly. "I didn't ask if I was too hard."

You swallowed. "I'm okay. I liked it hard," you answered sheepishly, in a small voice.

He let out a chuckle. "We're just warming up, princess," he muttered, placing more kisses on your back.

You giggled at the feeling of his lips on places where no one had ever kissed before.

"You're ticklish," he cooed. "Oh, princess. I'm going to have so much fun with you."

Your whole body was set ablaze again, a gentle reminder of what was yet to come.

"I'm glad I asked you to do this," you mumbled with a sigh.

"You do?" he asked, his voice was low but sweet.

"It felt good. I didn't think it would be this good," you sighed, feeling shy again.

Then the tip of his fingers started tracing invisible lines along your back gingerly, as he hummed a tune faintly, almost absentmindedly.

"Mmm, I'm glad you liked it," he sounded distant, and you thought that he might be dozing off. "Was it material you can put into your book?"

You glanced back to find his face, he eyed you playfully, a ghost of a smile in his lips.

"I wasn't thinking of my book," you admitted sheepishly.

"Good," he muttered, his eyes wandering to the rest of your body. "I wanted you to enjoy this."

Then you felt it again. That tingly warmth sensation on your chest, it struck you for a moment, leaving you breathless.

"Why?" you had to ask.

His eyes locked on yours again. "You were nervous," he shrugged. "It was your first time with a stranger, right?"

You nodded briefly.

"Though you did say you like me," the corners of his lips rose. "A lot, if I remember correctly."

You groaned, sinking your face back to your pillow and that made him laugh. "Ohmygod," you mumbled.

The gentle caress of his fingers reached the small of your back and moved to the side of your glute. You heard him sigh softly when your skin prickled, and you could imagine that he was smiling.

"What's wrong, princess?" he asked sweetly. "Were you lying? Was it the heat of the moment?"

You could tell he was teasing you, but the fingers on your skin were too distracting. Even the sound of his voice was alluring.

His fingers moved from your back and found your jaw, he lifted your face from the pillow and you found his eyes. "Mm? Tell me," he insisted.

Was he really that egotistical? You brushed his hand from your jaw and he laughed quietly.

"I wasn't lying," you mumbled sheepishly, feeling like it was easier to be honest.

Joshua's mouth curved into a smile. It looked predilect, as if he found you cute.

He bent down and locked his lips with yours, his hand cupping the side of your face as his lips moved on yours passionately. Then he planted small lazy kisses on your lower lip and chin and went back to cuddling you.

"Joshua?" you muttered.

"Mm?"

You turned in his embrace, finding his face. "I wanna go again," you mumbled sheepishly.

His eyebrows arched up and he laughed. "Right now?"

You nodded, a bit too eagerly. "I want you again. Please?"

Joshua's hand moved to cup your face, his mouth pressed on yours, slowly locking his lips with yours. You parted your lips to give access to his tongue, and he moaned in resignation.

"So hard for me to say no."

✮ a/ns: ahhh this reader is my most personal one because i suffer from insomnia (˘･_･˘) anyway, if you liked this feel free to let me know with a like, reblog, comment, whatever you prefer wink wink

please let me know if you like the songs i suggest at the beginning of the chapters?

if you liked reading this, stay tuned for part ii and check out my other fics from its shared universe! k bye ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶

my taglist is open! just send me a message and you'll be tagged for the next one or my other fics!