jaeyunwrld

[jaeyunwrld]

the misfortunes and misconceptions of lee heeseung

❝ i'll let you in on a little secret: wanting nothing to do with y/n starts with actually wanting nothing to do with her. ❞

PAIRING ▸ slytherin!heeseung x hufflepuff!fem!reader

GENRES ▸ fluff, crack, hogwarts au, idiots to lovers au

WARNINGS ▸ profanity, the classic amortentia trope because what screams valentine's day like love potions, heeseung is down horrendous, sunghoon missing half an eyebrow, jake is babygirl, lots of catastrophizing, minor bending of canon for plot convenience, and a kiss scene of course

SUMMARY ▸ by no means does lee heeseung hold any romantic feelings toward you. the mere possibility is jarring, considering his luck seems to take a turn for the worst whenever he’s around you. from getting hit with a bludger during quidditch to getting into trouble with filch for setting off dungbombs in his office, heeseung starts to think you’re some sort of bad omen. he’s prepared for disaster when you two become partners in potions, but why does the amortentia smell like you?

WORD COUNT ▸ 13,497 words

PLAYLIST ▸ lavender kiss by the licks

AUTHOR’S NOTE ▸ this is jayflrt's valentine for you ♡

LEE HEESEUNG WAS CERTAIN YOU MUST HAVE HAD AN AFFINITY FOR NEARLY KILLING HIM REGULARLY.

When he, Slytherin’s prized Seeker, got knocked off his broom by a bludger, there was only one potential suspect he could narrow the crime down to in his head. 

In your hand was the very bat that sent the bludger in his way, hitting his miserable self square in the gut. 

This seemed to be a pattern between the two of you, where it was mostly Heeseung experiencing great misfortune because of the Hufflepuff’s mere existence. His best friend, Park Jongseong, told him that he had probably wronged you in a past life for him to suffer this much around you. While Heeseung initially brushed it off as a joke, he couldn’t help but start to question if it was actually true.

Back in his first year, Heeseung met you during the Sorting Hat ceremony, where you accidentally tripped him right before he walked up to get sorted. Everyone in the Grand Hall laughed at him, which was not his idea of a welcoming initiation into Slytherin, so he glared holes into the back of your head for the rest of the year. 

In his third year, you ran into him at King’s Cross station, causing all of his trunks to go flying. While you were helping him repack everything, you two realized that the Hogwarts Express was long gone, and neither of you could even access the magical entryway to Platform Nine and Three-Quarters. Heeseung cried into his hands at the train station until a professor Apparated to pick them both up, and then you teased him about his tears for what felt like forever. 

In a similar sense, Heeseung had somehow always managed to get into trouble when he was around you. Now, he had naturally grown out of disliking you for causing him so much suffering (mostly because he was far more popular now and everyone had forgotten about how you sent him flying during a duel, unfortunately revealing his strawberry-patterned boxers to an entire room of second and third years), but Heeseung was still wary about the adversity that seemed to follow you.

Were you a friend? Heeseung couldn’t tell for sure. You two spent an awfully long amount of time together, but you both also had your separate friend groups that hardly intermingled. Heeseung supposed you were more of a thorn in his side that hurt more when he tried to yank it out.

Now, there was nothing left for him to do now but clutch his stomach in pain and pray that he didn’t need to spend another night in the infirmary because of you. (Madam Pomfrey started to keep a tally; “Oh, Miss L/N didn’t injure you again, did she? Have a toffee, sweetheart,” was what he was expecting to hear from the school nurse.)

“Heeseung! Are you okay?” you asked, running up to him with your other hand clutching your broom. Thankfully, Heeseung had managed to grip his broom with one hand on the way down until he had safely landed, so there were no damages to his Moontrimmer. “Who did this to you?!”

“I know you’re holding the bat behind your back, Y/N,” he got out through gritted teeth.

He watched as you let your arm fall defeatedly to your side, revealing the Beater’s bat that violated practically every safety protocol.

“Oh, how embarrassing,” Kim Minjeong, the Chaser for the Slytherin team, said with a giggle from behind her palm. She was still floating a few feet from the ground, witnessing the damage done from her broom. Heeseung glared up at her. “Not a good look for you, Captain.”

Normally, he would shut Minjeong up with his usual threat that went something along the lines of putting a curse on her bloodline. This time, however, Heeseung was in far too much pain and humiliation to come up with a witty comeback.

Madam Hooch came running across the field to see what happened to her star Quidditch player. On the bright side, Heeseung knew that you wouldn’t get in trouble because game was game; you were just doing what you needed to ensure your victory, even though Slytherin still had a huge lead on Hufflepuff. After momentary deliberation, however, Heeseung realized that the bright side should have been the fact that he was still alive. Why was he thinking about you, anyway? He would pay galleons to see you get in trouble—but not too much trouble (and Merlin’s beard, he was far too soft).

“He needs to be taken to the infirmary,” Madam Hooch said. She spared you a glance before making a shooing motion with her gloved hand. By this time, his friends (Park Sunghoon, a sixth year who Heeseung ‘adopted’ in his second year, and Yang Jungwon, a broody fourth year with a penchant for rule-breaking) had come running down the stands and across the field. “You can visit him after you finish the match, Y/N. Madam Pomfrey can handle this.”

“Yes, of course,” you murmured, turning to Heeseung again and muttering a pathetic apology, to which he cracked a grin at. Maybe he shouldn’t have been grinning since you nearly cracked his skull open, or maybe he had really lost it this time. 

“It’s only been a week since you’ve managed to nearly get me killed.” Heeseung shuddered at the memory of you accidentally setting his cloak on fire last week with a Blasting Charm. “Don’t worry. I knew something was gonna happen sooner or later.”

Words of affirmation weren’t exactly his strong suit. 

But upon seeing the awkward grin on your face, like a blast of light that hit him all at once, Heeseung was suddenly painfully aware of everything—the awfully pleasant scent of lavender wafting from you, the searing ache from his injury, the way your hair framed your face, and the cool metal balled in his fist. 

Wait—metal?

Before he was about to be carried out in a not-so-dignified manner, Heeseung raised his arm to open his palm, revealing the Golden Snitch that sat obediently, fanning its wings out once before closing again. A gasp rose from the crowd, and then the shocked looks from both teams followed. Minjeong nearly fell off her broom. The Slytherin house all but exploded in cheers after Madam Hooch gaped at the sight, fumbled for her whistle, blew it loudly, and then announced Slytherin’s victory over Hufflepuff. 

Heeseung sighed in relief and fully collapsed onto the ground, looking up at the clear sky with contentment lifting the anguish from his brows. And now that he knew the verdict of the match, the pain finally hit him all at once, and he hoped Madam Pomfrey could fix him up before his house started celebrating their triumph. 

“Heeseung! That was an incredible play!” Nishimura Riki, a fourth year Gryffindor, cried as he came running from the stands. If by incredible, he was referring to Heeseung getting bludgeoned to the ground, then sure, incredible—outstanding, even. The flash of Riki’s camera went off, capturing a pathetic-looking Heeseung lying limp on the springy turf. “This’ll definitely make the front page!”

Ever since the Nishimura kid got an internship at the Daily Prophet, the Slytherin team had been worried about appearing on the news unprompted—most likely in unflattering angles, too. It had even gotten to the point of Song Eunseok pinning up a poster of Riki to a corkboard in the locker room, as if he was a wanted criminal at large.

“Er, could we retake—”

“You grab his legs,” a voice from behind him ordered. It was Sunghoon, who had come running with Jungwon to carry him out of the field. “I’ll take his arms.”

Heeseung balked. “Guys, wait!”

But it was no use. He was already in the air, and Jungwon and Sunghoon were both ignoring his protests.

As if he was a rather sad sack of potatoes, Heeseung was carried out, body dangling and his eyes screwed shut as he heard more flashes of Riki’s camera going off. Most of all, he wondered if you caught sight of how pitiful he was. Surely, you found it hilarious, didn’t you? He was certain he would get teased endlessly in Charms next week. 

“Nice game, champ,” Jungwon commented oh-so-casually, and Heeseung’s blood started boiling. 

“Can you put me down already?! We have magic for a reason!” he blurted out, but his two friends ignored him all the same. 

“I saw Sunoo being carried out like this the other day outside of the Dueling Club meeting room,” Sunghoon mused, and Heeseung imagined the poor Slytherin also being hauled to the infirmary like a ragdoll. “I heard he got hit with a nasty Disarming Charm. Someone nearly blasted the poor guy right into the Clock Tower’s pendulum.”

“I know. He’s better at dodging than I thought,” Jungwon replied unsympathetically. “What a shame. I’ll get him next time.”

Heeseung blanched. Poor Kim Sunoo.

But then he remembered his current state and thought Sunoo was better off than him. At least Sunoo wasn’t carried out in front of the entire school. 

Really, the reason why Heeseung was so agitated was because being Slytherin’s Seeker meant that he had an important role. It was a responsibility that clearly set him apart, and it surely had to look impressive to others—for example, you—but here he was, being carried out of the Quidditch pitch like an idiot. It put all of his hard work and countless hours of practice to shame. 

Thankfully, although his failing jock status might have damaged his ego to the point of no return, Madam Pomfrey didn’t seem to think his injuries were too severe this time. After a few healing charms, which made him feel back to normal in no time, Heeseung was ready to leave the infirmary. 

Sunghoon and Jungwon ended up leaving right after dropping him off, claiming that they had to go celebrate their win in the Slytherin common room. Heeseung found it completely disrespectful to ditch the very person who brought them to victory. 

To his surprise, you were waiting outside the door, twiddling your thumbs and doing that annoyingly cute habit of yours where you chewed on the inside of your cheek whenever you were in trouble (which, frankly, happened a lot of the time). He made a great deal of effort to adjust his cape before walking over to you with raised eyebrows, wondering if an apology was coming his way. 

“I just wanted to say,” you started, voice uncharacteristically small and wavering, but then you followed up with an incomprehensible mumble that Heeseung could hardly decipher.

“What?”

“Uh,” you raised your voice this time, keeping it steadier with extra effort, “on the way here—funny story, really—I was telling Jake about how you set off a Dungbomb in Filch’s office the other week. Honest to God, I didn’t even see Mrs. Norris!”

Although you didn’t provide a solid conclusion, he was able to connect the dots and figure out what you were getting at. He almost wished he stayed oblivious because how was this happening to him twice in a day?

Heeseung’s face fell. “You’ve got to be joking.”

“Filch is looking for you,” you finished with a guilty look drawn across your face. 

It happened to be your second guilty look of the day, actually. Two too many for Heeseung to handle. 

There was one thing Lee Heeseung was quite sure of, and it was that he wanted absolutely nothing to do with you from now on. 

The aftermath of his scolding from Filch resulted in him receiving evening detentions for the rest of the week. All you brought him was terrible luck wherever he went, and despite how nice you smelled and how shiny your hair was, he didn’t need your misfortune clinging to him like it would be the last breath he’d take. 

Honestly, any longer around you and he was pretty sure he would be taking his last breath soon.

But it was honestly ridiculous how hard Heeseung had to restrain himself from going near you. He would pass by your unbothered self in the Courtyard, hoping to get some verbal recognition from you that would change his mind about his whole ignoring thing, but you simply just paid more attention to stupid Jake Sim from Hufflepuff. 

Who cared about Jake Sim, anyway? Surely not the several girls in his year that threw themselves at him. There was nothing redeeming about him, not even with his perfect smile and perfect grades and perfect robes. Honestly, where did he get those robes? Heeseung bought his at Madam Malkin’s, like virtually every other student, but they weren’t as perfectly trimmed and fitted as Jake Sim’s perfect robes.

“I’ll let you in on a little secret,” Park Jongseong, a sixth year Ravenclaw, sneered once he saw the glower across Heeseung’s face. “Wanting nothing to do with Y/N starts with actually wanting nothing to do with her.”

“Who said I didn’t not want anything to do with her?” Heeseung fired back, but even he was confused about his response, taking a few extra seconds to process what nonsense had just spewed out of his mouth. “Okay, look, just pretend I said the funniest thing you’ve ever heard when she walks by us.”

“Actually, that was the funniest thing I’ve ever heard.”

Heeseung gave him an exasperated look. “Are you serious?”

“Yeah, I mean, you’re not that funny to begin with. Kind of hilarious that you think you’d be able to tell me the funniest thing I’ve ever heard.”

“You literally just told me I said the funniest thing ever.”

“Funny because it was such a pathetic thing to say. There’s a difference.”

“You’re a stupid git, you know that?”

“Am I now?”

“The stupidest of stupid gits.”

In truth, Jake was the stupid git. Jongseong could tease Heeseung all he wanted, but Jake Sim was the one grinning down at you with a stupid sparkle in his eyes, taunting the Slytherin with those evil, perfect corners of his lips. Didn’t he have better things to do? Like not taking up the oxygen in a place where he was clearly unwanted?

Also, to set the record straight, Heeseung needed to make it perfectly clear (to himself, too, because this was clearly confusing for him and everybody around him) that he was not into you. 

Probably.

Sure, he felt a smidge of fondness because you two had gotten into life-threatening situations before (all your fault, by the way), so there was probably some semblance of friendship that was only due to the fact that shared trauma often brought people together. But that was all it was. Heeseung’s feelings did not extend into anything remotely romantic; he even shuddered at the very thought. 

That was right. He was your friend, and that was all he wanted to be. Heeseung most definitely did not think about anything like holding your hand, or plucking flowers to braid into your hair, or kissing you in hidden corners of the castle. That would be ridiculous and completely unlike him.

And then you really did walk past him and Jongseong, so Heeseung took it upon himself to punch his friend’s shoulder hard and burst into forced laughter. He tried extremely hard to convince himself that this was a very normal thing to do, but soon after the act, he wanted to lay on the floor of the Owlery until the owls collectively decided to fly his body out somewhere far away—hopefully another country.

“Idiot, I’m the one who’s supposed to laugh,” Jongseong reminded him once you were out of sight. (You did not pay attention to his charade, Heeseung was sad to note.) With a scoff, he added, “You should probably hit the books ‘cause acting’s clearly not up your alley.”

Heeseung let out a retired sigh and stood up from the stone bench they had been sitting on. “I’m going to Potions.”

“Oh, you attend class now? Shocking.” 

“I prefer not spending my evenings in detention.”

“Alright. I’ll update you later on the Jake-and-Y/N show.”

“You do that, and I’ll show you how good I’ve gotten at the hair loss curse,” he spat. “I’d start investing in some hats.”

“Is that why Sunghoon’s missing half an eyebrow?”

Heeseung didn’t answer. Honestly, Sunghoon’s predicament had nothing to do with him, but he left it up to Jongseong’s imagination for the sake of intimidation.

As he stormed away (well, more of a brisk walk; Heeseung wasn’t one to storm), he realized that his friends had all sorts of misconceptions about him. He couldn’t wrap his head around why Jongseong would possibly think he was concerned about you and Jake Sim. Sure, he spent a good portion of the morning glaring daggers at Jake Sim, but there was no way that meant Heeseung was that concerned about the Hufflepuff. 

What was there to be concerned about, anyway? Heeseung was the Seeker of the Slytherin Quidditch team, scored five O.W.L.s last year, and he was the top duelist at Hogwarts. Jake Sim was just another pretty boy who Heeseung could crush under the sole of his shoe if he wanted to. 

His mind wandered to thoughts of you and Jake Sim walking back to the Hufflepuff common room together. Your melodic laugh echoing through the halls because of a joke he told; your fingers entwined with his as he carried your books for you; and your eyes practically glowing with admiration as you watched him intently. 

The thought made Heeseung sick to his stomach. Not because he liked you or anything disgusting like that, but because Jake Sim didn’t deserve to receive that much attention—not even in a hypothetical scenario that played out in Heeseung’s wild, almost sadistic imagination.

One thought comforted him, though: You had Potions with Heeseung, meaning you had to pry yourself from Jake’s side to attend Slughorn’s class. 

As he was about to approach the classroom door, Heeseung realized he had forgotten his Potions textbook. He debated whether to go in without it or run to his dormitory to fetch it, and he eventually went with the latter to avoid being clueless if today required brewing a potion. This resulted in him being about ten minutes late to class, which he decided was your fault somehow. 

Immediately upon entering the room, the pungent scent of lavender filled his nostrils, and it was all he could smell. He later recognized that there were a few other smells mixed in—the smell of butterbeer and the smell of fresh ink. The lavender, however, was so intense that it overwhelmed his senses.

It smelled like you.

Before Heeseung was about to blurt out and ask why you doused the entire classroom in your perfume, Professor Slughorn turned to look at him with brows raised in pleasant surprise.

“Ah, Mr. Lee,” he greeted. “You’re early today.”

He was ten minutes late.

“Uh, just forgot my textbook,” he said, holding up the Potions textbook he walked several, brutal flights of stairs to retrieve. 

“If you’re ready to join us, I was just going over Amortentia.” 

If Heeseung’s memory served him correctly, that was either the potion that boosted one’s memory or the potion that induced laughter. He hadn’t exactly been doing his reading over the summer, which was probably not an intelligent decision on his part considering he was in N.E.W.T. level Potions.

Either way, he was a little too preoccupied mentally replaying how his eyes met yours briefly. Heeseung walked over to stand next to you—for research purposes, of course—because he needed to know if you had really drenched yourself in lavender perfume, or if he had just gone crazy.

He nudged you with his elbow and muttered, “You reek.” 

Okay, that was definitely not a chivalrous way of putting it.

“Excuse me?” Your unnaturally high-pitched voice was hardly a whisper, but Heeseung could detect… panic?

“No, I mean your perfume,” he corrected quickly. “It’s everywhere.”

“Is it that strong?” You lifted your sleeve to sniff at it. 

“Yeah? It’s—”

“—the most powerful love potion known to wizardkind,” Heeseung heard Slughorn say as he redirected his focus to the actual lecture. “Amortentia’s said to smell different to each person, according to what attracts them.”

So it turned out that his memory didn’t serve him correctly at all.

Heeseung had his fair share of near-death experiences—probably a few more than the average Hogwarts student.

Never had he wanted so badly to combust into flames on the spot like a phoenix. Except he didn’t want to rise from the ashes; he was perfectly content with staying dead and buried without ever having to relive the last couple minutes of his life, which he was sure would scar him forever. 

Immediately, Heeseung stopped focusing on Slughorn’s lecture to conjure up some lame excuse in his head. Maybe he could tell everyone that his Muggle-born father owned a lavender farm back in the day, thus his love for lavender scents bloomed. But, Merlin’s beard, that didn’t even make sense! Just because he loved the smell of lavender didn’t mean he was in love with it. The smell was always attached to the person—the very object of his desires.

And, of course, it all pointed back to you.

Heeseung should not have had the realization that he was in love with you in the middle of Potions, of all classes. Astronomy? Sure. He thought it would be romantic to come to terms with his feelings whilst observing the celestial bodies in the sky. Divination? Even better. Gazing into a crystal ball for answers made complete sense. 

But Potions? Seriously? This was probably the least romantic place in Hogwarts aside from the haunted bathroom in the South Wing. 

No, on second thought, Heeseung saw some potential in the haunted bathroom. Something about the complete isolation of the facility made it all the more exciting.

Potions, on the other hand, was simply downright dreadful. 

“Amortentia, as you all know, is extremely dangerous. I only have it out here for educational purposes, so do not even think about touching that cauldron,” Slughorn warned. “Instead, for today’s lesson, I want you all to partner up and brew something… more lighthearted—say, Elixir for Inducing Euphoria. You can find it in your Potions books in chapter eight.”

After his lecture, Slughorn made everyone write down what Amortentia smelled like for them, warning his class about the dangers of the love potion being slipped into someone’s food or drink. Heeseung hastily wrote his down on a scrap of parchment before pocketing it where he would surely forget it existed.

He had been hoping Potion-making was going to be individual work today. He despised partner work, especially when that meant Heeseung would potentially be working with you, which didn’t prove too successful for his heart or his grades. 

More importantly, Heeseung did not, by any means, want to work alongside you after accidentally admitting that the Amortentia smelled like lavender to him.

Not to mention you were atrocious when it came to Potions. Heeseung needed more than two hands to count all the times your cauldron blew up in your face this year. Even when Heeseung took the reins and stirred the ingredients himself, you would somehow manage to expertly worsen the situation.

Thankfully, Kim Sunoo also took Potions, so as soon as Heeseung spotted the Slytherin, he grabbed his robes by the nape. 

“You’re working with me.” 

It came off more as an order than a request, but Heeseung needed to be firm to emphasize the gravity of the situation he was in. What if he died working with you? Did Sunoo want him dead? 

“No way,” Sunoo refused. “I already told Sohee I’d work with him. Plus, you never bring the right ingredients.”

Well, that was that; Sunoo hated Heeseung and wanted him dead. 

“Are you serious? Sohee?” Heeseung asked, acting as if Sohee wasn’t one of the top students in Potions. “You’re turning your best friend down?”

“No, I’m turning you down.”

“Okay, ouch.”

“Sunoo, d’you have any Sopophorous beans on you?” Lee Sohee asked as he approached the two, reading off his Potions book. “I have Worm—oh, hey, Heeseung!”

With little enthusiasm, he greeted, “Hi, Sohee.”

“Heeseung needs a partner,” Sunoo explained.

“Oh, really?” Before Heeseung could stop him, Sohee turned his head and cupped his hands around his mouth, yelling, “Y/N! Heeseung needs a partner, too!”

“Sohee!” Heeseung hissed, suddenly wishing Sohee’s head was a Quaffle he could launch into oblivion. He lowered his voice to mutter, “Have you considered that maybe I’m asking Sunoo because I don’t wanna partner with Y/N?”

He shrugged in response. “How was I supposed to know that?”

Oh, this was horrible. Not only did Sunoo hate Heeseung and want him dead, but Sohee had joined in on the cause, too. They were both clearly plotting something wicked against him.

But now he had no other choice. It wasn’t like he could turn you down after Sohee had blatantly lied about Heeseung’s intentions. This was the worst outcome yet; he was probably going to fail Potions because of you, and then he would have to write a make-up paper on the stupid elixir they were supposed to brew.

“No one wants to partner with me!” you complained, shoulders sagging and lips forming a pout when you walked over to the Slytherin. “I can always count on you, though, Hee.”

Heeseung couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

No one wanted to partner with you? What had the wizarding world come to? Where was the comradery? 

He was almost infuriated by how spineless the rest of his classmates were. Sure, Heeseung was complaining about working with you seconds prior, but you said it yourself: you could always count on him. At the end of the day, failing today’s class and writing a make-up paper was nothing in the grand scheme of things. Heeseung would always extend a helpful hand to those who needed it, or someone he was potentially crushing on.

Get a grip, Heeseung, he scolded himself. You do not have a crush on her. She’s just a good friend, that’s all. A perfectly normal, platonic friend of yours who gets on your nerves sometimes… and smells rather nice… and sort of looks extremely pretty when she has her hair tied up… and—

Okay, this was getting ridiculous.

“Yeah,” he got out in an embarrassingly choked voice. “You were my first choice, anyway—well, after Sunoo turned me down.”

There often came a time when a man had to put himself through tough situations to overcome adversity. As Heeseung approached their table, his shiny cauldron gleaming under the lamp light, he knew exactly what he needed to do.

Make sure you didn’t lay a finger on his bloody cauldron.

Sunoo and Sohee were working at the same table, standing at the bench across from them. Heeseung quickly sifted through his bag, and, as Sunoo predicted, he didn’t bring any of the ingredients necessary for the elixir. What the hell was he going to do with Fluxweed and rose oil?

“I have porcupine quills,” you said, pulling a glass jar out of your bag.

“Uh, okay, so I need you to get a Shrivelfig and Wormwood from Slughorn’s closet,” he instructed you, giving you a thumbs-up once you nodded. “I’m gonna beg Sunoo for his Sopophorous beans.”

After you walked off, Heeseung leaned over the table and muttered, “Sunoo, please give me some of your beans.”

“No,” the prick replied. 

“Please,” Heeseung begged. “Eunseok’s table took the last of them from Slughorn’s closet.”

“Maybe, but I want something in return.”

“What do you want?”

A sly grin spread across Kim Sunoo’s face. “Tell me what the Amortentia smelled like for you.”

Honestly, Heeseung was perfectly content with writing another twenty inches to make up for a failed potion. He would even take detention, if needed. Anything to get himself out of this sick and twisted situation. 

In his head, he imagined Sunoo getting what he deserved, and that was his ass getting properly kicked during Dueling Club. He envisioned Jungwon flourishing his wand and blasting Sunoo square in the gut, knocking him straight into the fountain in the middle of the courtyard.

He gave his friend a reproachful look. “I wish Jungwon’s spell hit you.”

Sunoo chuckled darkly and held up his jar of Sopophorous beans, waving them teasingly in the air. This was almost too much for Heeseung, but he committed to working with you, so he couldn’t let you down while you were off getting the rest of the ingredients.

“Lavender,” he admitted through gritted teeth. “The Amortentia smelled like lavender.”

His eyebrows raised in mock surprise. “Hear that, Sohee? Heeseung smelled lavender. You know who else usually smells like lavender?”

At that moment, you returned with the rest of the ingredients. You showed Heeseung the jars and bottles you brought over, but he was too distracted to properly examine them. His gaze remained fixed on Sunoo, eyes burning with resentment. He prayed to Salazar that Sunoo wouldn’t slip up in front of you.

Sohee, who clearly had no idea who Sunoo was referring to, blinked slowly. “Uh, Professor Longbottom? He probably smells like it—you know, with all the time he spends in the Greenhouse.”

“Yes, Sohee, I’m in love with Professor Longbottom,” Heeseung deadpanned. “Thank you for your wonderful insight.”

You made a face. “You’re in love with who?” 

“No one,” Heeseung replied quickly once Sunoo finally handed him his desired ingredients. He lit the fire under the cauldron, dropping a sprig of peppermint inside to counterbalance the possible side-effects. “Just peel the Shrivelfig and chop the porcupine quills while I stir.”

The potion-making seemed to be going smoothly for the first few steps. However, when you were chopping the porcupine quills, Heeseung’s chest leaped when he heard an ouch come from you. He forgot about his cauldron immediately and looked over to see your finger bleeding.

“What happened?” He grabbed hold of your hand, inspecting the blood oozing from your cut. “Did you slice your finger?”

“M-my hand just slipped.”

This was bad. If Heeseung didn’t disinfect and bandage the wound, then it could possibly get infected and you’d die. (Merlin’s Beard, Heeseung, it’s hardly a flesh wound, his thoughts annoyingly cut in.) He needed to get you to Madam Pomfrey before—

“Heeseung!” Sunoo yelled from over the table. 

He whirled around to see that elixir had turned a deep purple hue, bubbling up to the rim. That was strange; it was supposed to be a bright yellow color by now. Considering he was handling the cauldron the entire time, nothing should have gone badly wrong. Time seemed to slow down as Heeseung speculated what in Salazar’s name he managed to screw up.

That was when he noticed the green bottle next to the cauldron—the Infusion of Wormwood he poured in earlier. Except it wasn’t Wormwood; the brown tag hanging from the neck of the bottle read Flobberworm Mucus.

Before he could curse himself for not reading the label properly beforehand, the failed elixir rose all the way to the top and shot out of the cauldron, spewing purple liquid all over their table and burning a hole through the wood. Slughorn’s head turned sharply in their direction, and he crossed the classroom to see what mess you and Heeseung had caused. 

“Evanesco!” the Potions teacher shouted, making the substance vanish in an instant. Slughorn looked mostly unsurprised as he turned to face you and Heeseung, letting a retired sigh slip. “Five points from Slytherin and Hufflepuff—and twenty inches on the properties of Amortentia by next class.”

“Twenty?” you cried, nearly gasping from the shock. “But, Sir, we have so much work from our other N.E.W.T. classes already!”

“And we have the Hogsmede trip after class,” Heeseung chimed in. 

And, bless his heart, Slughorn was far too kind of a soul to be too strict with either of you. He typically had high expectations for those he taught, especially the ones he sought out for his reputable ‘Slug Club,’ but he had a soft spot for his N.E.W.T. students.

“Alright then, well… you and Mr. Lee can write twenty inches together and bring it to me,” he decided in his bumbling voice. 

When he walked away, Heeseung let his shoulders sag. He couldn’t believe he had to write a paper over this—and with you, no less. He should’ve known that he was cursed to stumble upon misfortune again, but, at the same time, he just couldn’t find a way to blame you. Sure, you were the one who took the wrong bottle from the Potions cabinet, but Heeseung really should’ve double-checked the label before he poured it into the cauldron.

“Oh, well,” Sunoo simpered, wearing a proud smirk, “writing about Amortentia shouldn’t be hard for you, huh?”

Heeseung demonstrated his hair loss curse on Sunoo after class.

“I might get a D on my N.E.W.T. for Potions, Hee,” you complained to him later when you both had snuck away to the lakefront to work on your remedial paper. There was a nice patch of grass that Heeseung liked to sit on and contemplate his miserable life, so he figured that he’d share the location with you. “Or maybe even a T—oh, Godric’s Heart.”

“Hey, failing with distinction would be much more impressive than just downright failing,” he tried. 

“Not helping.”

“Sorry.”

Heeseung had a total of four words written on his parchment so far, which happened to be both of your first and last names. He wasn’t sure how he would get to twenty inches without delving into the smells of Amortentia, which he already figured he would need to use a personal anecdote for. He was trying his best to avoid that since it would lead to a rather awkward conversation. 

However, everyone was leaving for Hogsmede shortly, so Heeseung was hoping that you would decide to set aside the rest of the paper for later. 

As if the universe was rubbing Heeseung’s misery in his face, Jake Sim came strutting over in his stupid, perfect robes. (Except it was quite a normal walk; no strutting whatsoever, actually.)

“Just got out of Arithmancy?” you asked him with a gut-wrenching, brilliant smile on your face.

“Yeah, Seunghan and I were heading to Hogsmede with everyone else,” Jake answered before his gaze drifted to Heeseung. Something seemed to light up in his eyes and he started reaching into his robes. “Hey, nice game yesterday! Did you see that, uh… where did I put it…” After some rummaging through his pockets, Jake pulled out a piece of parchment which seemed to be a clipping from the school newspaper. “You made the front page!” 

Heeseung peered to see a moving picture of himself laying on the Quidditch pitch, half-conscious as the Golden Snitch rested in the palm of his hand. Next to him, Sunghoon and Jungwon gave the camera a thumbs-up and feigned shock at the sight of the Seeker on the ground. 

He was definitely going to be sending Riki a Howler. 

“Lovely,” he replied half-heartedly, fighting down a scowl when he realized that Jake wanted him to keep the clipping. “I’ll hang it up with the rest of my collection.”

Jake laughed, even though Heeseung was dead serious. He had an archive of mortifying photographs of him that Riki had taken ever since he stepped onto Hogwarts grounds. Collecting them was intentional, of course; Heeseung needed evidence for the Wizangamot if he planned to sue Nishimura Riki for defamation one day. If Heeseung had known how much of a nuisance the Gryffindor would be, he would’ve plotted for the kid to be sent back home right after his Sorting Ceremony. 

“We have a remedial paper to write,” you told Jake glumly, “so I don’t think we’ll be going to Hogsmede today.”

Jake shrugged. “I’ll see you in the common room later, then.”

“Bye-bye.”

Once Jake walked off to find his friend, Heeseung shot you a dark look. There might have been something warm and soupy in his chest whenever he even looked in your general direction, but he wouldn’t let this slide. 

“I’m not skipping the Hogsmede trip.”

“But we have to finish—”

“But Hogsmede,” he whined. “Can’t we meet in the library after and work on it?”

“I have a Transfiguration quiz I need to study for.” You sounded distressed for a moment, but you quickly brightened up. “Who are you meeting in Hogsmede?”

“Uh, well, no one in particular. Just wanted to check out some stores.”

“Then how about we go together?” you suggested. “We can work on our paper in The Three Broomsticks.”

“Oh.” Heat suddenly rose to Heeseung’s cheeks, and although he desperately tried to convince himself that your proposal did not sound like a date, he couldn’t shake how excited he was to spend some one-on-one time with you. “That works for me.”

On Salazar’s name, Heeseung was going to murder Sunghoon and Jungwon in cold blood.

While you and Heeseung had gotten cozy in an empty booth, brushing shoulders as you two looked over the first paragraph you started, his two dear friends decided to show up where they were clearly unwelcome. Apparently, mouthing get the fuck out of here wasn’t sending the message across.

Sunghoon was on some long tangent about how he barely scraped by on his O.W.L.s, but Slughorn finally gave him the green light to take Alchemy. For some odd reason, Alchemy was only available as a N.E.W.T. class, so Sunghoon had been anxious the whole summer over whether his O.W.L. results would be enough. 

“Didn’t you get five O.W.L.s?” Jungwon asked, bored.

“Six—A in Herbology,” Sunghoon corrected. “I hate plants.”

“Longbottom let you in with an Acceptable?” Heeseung raised his brows with mild interest, but he quickly steeled his expression. He was not entertaining their company, no. He started practicing the fine art of Legilimency to send a message to Sunghoon: go away, go away, go away, go away.

“He said he was especially impressed that I got into his N.E.W.T. class.”

“Oh, yeah,” you spoke up, pointing at Sunghoon. “Yizhuo told me she had no idea you were in her class until you showed up for exams.”

“I also didn’t realize she was in my class until you mentioned that.”

“How’d you even pass?” Heeseung asked.

“No clue,” Sunghoon replied honestly. “The exam was fine, but I thought the practical would be the end for me. Turns out I’m a natural. They even clapped after I ripped the leaves off a Venomous Tentacula. Like, big deal, it’s a plant.” 

Everyone at the table froze. Heeseung practically jumped seconds later, hitting his leg against the underside of the table. He had long abandoned his goal of kicking Sunghoon and Jungwon out of The Three Broomsticks. You choked on your butterbeer, wiping some of the foam off your chin. Jungwon’s eyebrows raised in disbelief. Heeseung’s knee hit the underside of the table, suppressing a groan. There was a shuffle below.

Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed you ducking under the table for a moment. However, he was too astounded by Sunghoon’s story to divert the topic. 

Heeseung set his butterbeer down and asked, “You just walked over and used your bare hands?”

“I suppose not showing up to class has its upsides,” Jungwon said. “Ignorance is bliss.”

“Sunghoon, do you even know what a Venomous Tentacula does?” you asked.

“What? Photosynthesis?” 

“Well, other than the snapping jaws that can either stun or kill you, and the vines reaching out to strangle you when you’re least expecting it,” Jungwon started (which didn't sound like a very pleasant start, to be honest), “there's also the venom that shoots out from its sprouts—oh, and the thorns that can kill you if you prick your finger.”

Sunghoon looked disturbed before muttering to Heeseung, “And they call Hogwarts the safest school on Earth. What a joke.”

You excused yourself shortly after the conversation came to an end, claiming that you spotted a friend a few tables over. Heeseung pretended to listen to Sunghoon and Jungwon trying to guess how old Professor Binns was, but really he was keeping an eye on you. Minjeong was whispering something to you, paused when you wrapped your arms around her, and then turned her neck to say something with sudden enthusiasm. 

Heeseung wondered how it would feel if he was sitting in that seat instead of Kim Minjeong, if your arms were draped around his shoulders like that. He thought of your hair falling into his face, how he’d brush it away and turn his head to kiss you—

Dangerous waters, he warned himself. Do not go there.

“Every time I ask him—and, mind you, it was only a couple of times—he falls asleep before he can even give me an answer!” Sunghoon complained, bringing Heeseung’s attention back to the topic of the ancient History of Magic professor. “Heeseung, has he ever told your class how old he is?”

“Couple hundred years probably,” he answered. “Can you guys leave now?”

They gawked at him, offended. 

Now Heeseung had realized he had driven himself into a corner. He couldn’t tell them the real reason why he wanted them to leave. If his friends found out that he wanted to spend time with you alone, then they would misconstrue the situation into something involving feelings—something which Lee Heeseung might have had but refused to admit out loud or to himself. 

“You two have been distracting us from finishing our paper,” he said instead, pointing at their unfinished essay. “Twenty inches! And we hardly have two.”

Jungwon, who saw right through him, asked, “You just wanna spend time with Y/N, don’t you?”

Heeseung coughed loudly, as if that would cover up whatever the Slytherin just said. “What?”

“It’s so obvious,” Sunghoon said. “Would we really be your best friends if we couldn’t pick up on who you’re into?”

“I am not into—” Heeseung paused to weigh his words. His recent revelation brought him to the point of no return; he couldn’t just lie about how he felt now. He threw an anxious look over his shoulder to make sure you were still preoccupied with Minjeong. “We have a paper to write.”

Sunghoon threw his head back to laugh. “See? You can’t even deny it.”

“It doesn’t even matter; she’s into Jake.”

They went silent. Glanced at each other out of the corner of their eyes. 

“Jake Sim?” Jungwon asked. “And Y/N?”

“Yes.”

“Jake Sim… and Y/N.”

“Yes,” Heeseung repeated with impatience seeping past his teeth. 

“What makes you think she’s into Jake?”

“Uh…” Heeseung was now irritated that he was being put on the spot because nothing was coming to mind. He just thought of you and Jake laughing together in the courtyard and jealousy wrapped tight around his heart. “I saw them together.”

“I saw you in Filch’s office the other day,” Sunghoon said. “Are you two a thing?”

Heeseung scowled at him, but before he could fire back at his friend, Jungwon said, “Just tell us you want us to leave so you can spend time with Y/N, and we’ll go.” A sly grin spread across his face, and he scarily resembled Kim Sunoo at that very moment. “You should probably make up your mind before she gets back.”

Struggling for a way out of this situation, Heeseung gave them both dirty looks. He had no choice but to give Jungwon and Sunghoon what they wanted. You were going to wrap your conversation up with Minjeong any minute now, so he had to act now before his friends terrorized him for the rest of their Hogsmede trip. 

“Fine,” he said sharply. “I wanna spend time with Y/N alone, so leave.”

Right on command, the two boys made a big scene about having to leave, throwing their hands up in exasperation and getting to their feet slowly. Sunghoon shook his head, rubbing the back of his neck as if it was a pain for them to be ordered around. Heeseung sank back into his seat in embarrassment. 

“Alright, alright, we’ll go,” Sunghoon drawled, “but you better tell us all the details after.”

Heeseung gave them his word, even though he was sure the update would simply be finishing their essay. Once Jungwon and Sunghoon strode out of the pub, he turned his gaze back to Minjeong’s table. For a moment, he just watched how your hair shone under the warm lighting. Heeseung had to avert his eyes when you turned around again to walk back to his table. There was a strange look on your face, like you were trying to work through a puzzle in your head. 

“Where’d the others go?”

For the entirety of their Hogsmede excursion, Heeseung had been trying his hardest not to look at you when you were so close to him. Now, though, with his friends gone, it was just you and him sitting almost shoulder-to-shoulder. 

He realized he was staring at your lips instead of answering your question. He licked his lips involuntarily and looked away. 

“Uh, went to check out some stores, I think,” he lied. “Should we get back to work?”

Slightly distracted, you replied, “Yes, let’s.”

The remedial paper was finally at an impressive twenty inches by the time you and Heeseung thought it would be best to start walking back to the school.

There weren’t many students around anymore as most people didn’t want to miss dinner in the Great Hall. Heeseung felt like something was off. You were focused on the paper the entire time, hardly engaging in any side conversation or recalling some fun memory. When you two ran out of things to write about Amortentia and stumbled upon the topic of describing its scent, Heeseung managed to steer away from writing about how the potion smelled for him. Instead, you two went for a more informational route with zero personal anecdotes.

The walk back to the castle was long, but Heeseung really hadn’t expected you to bring up the topic of Amortentia again. He thought hours of writing a paper on the potion would put you off of it for a long period of time. 

“So, you remember Slughorn showing us the love potion in class, right?” you started timidly while the two of you were crossing a bridge in Hogsmede. You didn’t even let Heeseung get to the trail to Hogwarts before you started your interrogation. “What’d it smell like for you?”

Fuck.

Why was everyone so interested in what the Amortentia smelled like for him? It wasn’t supposed to be some groundbreaking piece of information, and it wasn’t a big deal that it smelled like your signature scent! There were far more interesting things to converse about, like how nicely the leaves were arranged on the trees, or how interesting of a shade the sky was. 

But there was no way for him to avoid this question—not when you were staring at him so adamantly—so he resorted to lying. A white lie never hurt anyone, after all. Or, well, anyone important. 

“Like… books,” he answered, trying to keep his voice as level as possible. 

“Maybe you and the librarian are meant to be,” you teased.

“I guess sneaking into the restricted section makes the heart grow fond.” 

You laughed, and, Merlin’s beard, what a melody. Heeseung could listen to your voice all day. Preferably on a warm day while he was stretched out on some grass with your head on his lap, or maybe he’d like to be laying on your lap. Either way, he would be perfectly content just listening to you talk his ear off until—

“Y’know, that’s funny ‘cause… well, you wrote lavender here,” you said, chewing on the inside of your cheek and holding the very scrap of parchment that was supposed to be tucked away in Heeseung’s pocket.

Suddenly, he felt the urge to shut himself in the Slytherin common room and never hear you speak to him again.

In the couple of seconds he was malfunctioning for, many thoughts raced through Heeseung’s head.

First, he wondered if there was still time left to request a Ministry-issued Time-Turner under the guise that he would use it for his classes. Instead, its intended purpose would be to reverse time until Heeseung had somehow gotten himself out of this situation or destroyed that stupid piece of parchment.

The second revelation that struck him was that he must have dropped the paper in The Three Broomsticks. It must have fallen out of his pocket when he hit his knee under the table. There was a moment when he noticed you picking something up from the floor, but he hadn’t dwelled on it, expecting it to have just been a napkin. 

Lastly, he had gone extremely still—to the point of halting in his tracks and staring at you, wide-eyed. His body had completely seized up to the point where he almost thought he was shaking. Shaking—but he was shaking. He was shaking all over. Or maybe he wasn’t. He couldn’t tell. Heeseung clenched a fist to make sure he had control over his body. 

“Heeseung?”

You stopped walking, too, looking at him curiously. For a moment, it looked like you were going to apologize for reading what he wrote down, but you looked down at it again.

“Did the love potion smell like lavender?” you asked in a soft voice. Looking visibly flustered, you said in a rush, “I’m just asking because Minjeong said I always, uh… smell like lavender, and I just thought…” 

He needed to run. He needed to get out of here. He needed to disappear.

Heeseung felt like his blood was rushing through his ears, pumping so loud that he couldn’t hear anything but his heartbeat for a moment. You were saying something, but he couldn’t even make out the words your lips framed. The world had slowed down, and Heeseung wasn’t quite sure if his feet were planted firmly on the ground. 

He would have rather been anywhere else—maybe at Sunghoon’s house where his mother’s baked goods wafted from her kitchen window. He could envision the meadow right behind their house and how he spent the summer in the grass, practicing Quidditch with Sunghoon and his little sister. Jongseong would arrive days later to complain about his O.W.L.s for three hours straight until Sunghoon and Heeseung felt the life oozing out of their bodies. 

But here, with your eyes sparkling with determination, Heeseung felt like he was about to melt into a puddle. He was consumed with the ungodly urge to grab ahold of you and kiss you until his blood felt like electricity in his veins. Yes, he needed to be anywhere but here—anywhere where his feelings weren’t worn on his sleeve for the world to see. 

You started again, “Heeseung—”

Before you could get anything else out, Heeseung, who was overcome with the will to escape, felt something pulling him from behind. In a flash, he was whisked out of thin air with a tug behind his navel, leaving you gobsmacked and stranded in Hogsmede. 

He felt like he was being pushed through a thin vortex, squeezed by the fabric of reality tearing and reshaping itself around him. It took him some gasping breaths to get lungfuls of air into his body, but once he could breathe right again, he realized he was definitely not in Hogsmede.

“Excuse me?” Heeseung asked a nearby townsperson who was walking past him. He must have looked ridiculous in his Hogwarts robes, body awkwardly sprawled over two bales of hay. “Where am I?”

“Feldcroft,” the wizard answered.

He Apparated to Sunghoon’s hometown.

Not only did Heeseung spend thirty minutes trying to Apparate back to Hogsmede, but he was late for dinner. You were long gone, of course, but it seemed like you hadn’t exactly abandoned Heeseung. When he arrived on school grounds, Slughorn and McGonagall were waiting for him at the gate. This was definitely going to earn him a detention or two. 

Apparently, you ran back to school to tell McGonagall about what happened. The headmistress also noted that you were sobbing because you were convinced that it was your fault somehow. You happened to be under the belief that Heeseung wouldn’t know how to get back, which he couldn’t argue with because he considered himself lucky to Apparate back without splinching himself. 

After receiving a lecture from both professors about the dangers of Apparating unsupervised, Heeseung received two punishments: one week of detention and he wasn’t allowed to go on the next Hogsmede trip. However, he also received a pat on the back from Slughorn and a congratulations from McGonagall for a successful Apparition. 

When he recounted the story to Sunghoon, Jungwon, and Sunoo in the common room the following morning, they were howling with laughter. He had to pause approximately four times for them to catch their breaths.

“It’s not that funny,” Heeseung deadpanned.

Sunoo, who was wiping tears from the corners of his eyes, replied, “It’s kinda funny.”

Sunoo was also missing several patches of hair, which Heeseung generously didn’t point out. 

“Did my mom give you anything to bring back?” Sunghoon inquired. “I’ve been craving her tarts.”

“I didn’t exactly have time to drop by your mom’s and pick up some tarts! I was trying to Apparate back to Hogsmede, if that wasn’t already clear!”

“On the bright side,” Jungwon said, “you’ll probably pass your Apparition exam now. Sunghoon lost half an eyebrow while he was practicing yesterday.”

Sunghoon, with one and a half eyebrows, grimaced.

“So, you left Y/N hanging and she had to walk back alone?” Sunoo asked, tutting lightly as he shook his head. “Now you stand no chance of asking her out.”

Heeseung tried to cover up how taken aback he was by coughing into his arm, expertly hiding his reddening cheeks from his friends. “It’s not like that.”

“Uh-huh,” Jungwon said. “So, you’d be perfectly fine with Y/N going out with Jake?”

Heeseung’s face turned sour as he turned to look at the Slytherin. “She’s going out with who?” 

“It’s a hypothetical question.”

“Well… who she goes out with is none of my business.”

Sunghoon barked out a laugh. “Then why’d you get so worked up?”

“I’m not getting worked up,” Heeseung replied firmly, huffing as he got to his feet. “I simply don’t think she and Jake Sim are compatible, but my opinion’s got nothing to do with her.”

“Yeah?” A ghost of a smirk was plastered across Sunoo’s face. “Why don’t you think they’re compatible?”

There was a fire in the center of Heeseung’s chest, blazing and scorching his heart. He felt as if he would pass out from the immense pressure in his chest, but then his body felt so hot that everything seemed to slip away. He thought of you and Jake again, thinking about how you smiled up at him in a way Heeseung had never seen you smile at him.

The fire in his chest raged. 

“Because I exist,” he answered loudly. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a Defense Against the Dark Arts class to attend.”

Whether they were awestruck or dumbfounded, Heeseung’s friends watched him leave the common room with crooked grins on their faces. He was extremely satisfied that he managed to get his two cents in without his voice cracking or wavering.

After Sunghoon was left in the common room with Sunoo and Jungwon, he slumped back in his seat and asked, “Since when did he go to class?”

Defense Against the Dark Arts was Heeseung’s favorite class. Not because he particularly enjoyed dueling or any violence of the sort, but because Professor Weasley was the only teacher who didn’t assign papers every other day. He preferred a more hands-on teaching method, which usually involved partnering up and practicing spells on fellow classmates.

Plus, when Heeseung was in moods like these—moods where he felt like he was going to burst into flames much like a phoenix would—he looked forward to blasting someone across the room. Someone preferably like Jung Sungchan, who didn’t take it personally when he conjured columns of fire in rapid succession. 

Because he was so hot with unexplained anger and unrestrained emotion, Heeseung had to set the record straight (evidently for himself, too) that he most definitely harbored romantic feelings for you.

Admittedly, this was clear after he smelled the Amortentia, but Heseung refused to allow Potions to be the class that made him aware that he was in love. He could almost envision Slughorn taking credit for his future wedding, and the very thought made him shudder. 

The fire in Heeseung’s chest grew into more of a wildfire tearing through his body once he saw Jake Sim in Defense Against the Dark Arts.

He completely forgot that Jake took this class, too. The cherry on top was that Jake and Seunghan decided to sit at the desk right behind Heeseung and Sungchan, so he could hardly focus on Sungchan rattling on about Trelawny giving him detention when he was trying his hardest to eavesdrop on Jake’s conversation.

Right when Heeseung heard Jake talking about something potentially dark and dangerous (buying a Pygmy Puff), Professor Weasley raised his wand to signal that he was starting class. 

He started discussing familial curses, which Heeseung found especially interesting because he had almost considered a career path as a Curse-Breaker. It was a dangerous line of work, according to Professor Weasley, who used to be one himself before the second wizarding war, but Heeseung thought it was an honorable job to help remove dangerous curses.

Professor Weasley decided to stray from his usual ‘partner up with the person next to you’ and instead asked everyone to practice the Shield Charm with another student who was sitting around them. This, in turn, made Heeseung’s heart drop to his stomach.

If Sungchan wasn’t an option, then Heeseung was hoping he could partner with Seunghan. He quite liked the Hufflepuff, despite him being friends with the public enemy named Jake Sim. Seunghan had always been fun to talk to, and they became closer in fifth year when they were both sent to the infirmary and had beds next to each other. Madam Pomfrey was eventually tired of the two boys practicing jinxes on each other. 

Sungchan and Seunghan partnered up almost immediately, and then the girl sitting in front of Heeseung had run off to her friend as soon as the words slipped from Professor Weasley’s mouth. There was no one else for him to turn to—no one but Jake.

“Do you have a partner yet?” Jake asked shyly, and Heeseung had to fight down a bitter retort; obviously he didn’t have a partner, or he would’ve gotten up by now. “We can practice together, if you want.”

Heeseung reluctantly got to his feet. “Sure.”

They were an odd pairing, for sure. Heeseung couldn’t help but feel awkward around Jake, and it seemed as if Jake felt the same way, even though he did his best to be overly-friendly. 

Jake decided to be the one defending himself first, so Heeseung was graced with the opportunity to cast offensive spells at him all he wanted. He was having far too much fun casting Expelliarmus and Stupefy at Jake and watching the Hufflepuff draw his wand up just in time to shield himself. 

“You’re really good at this!” Jake said, eyes wide with what Heeseung assumed was fear. “Do you duel often?”

“Not really,” he answered. “I just have good aim.”

“Quidditch.” He made the connection quickly with a far too happy look on his face. “I’ve seen you fly. You’re really good.”

Quit playing nice! Heeseung was yelling at him in his head. It was proving quite difficult to viciously attack the Hufflepuff while receiving compliments in return.

“Yeah?” Heeseung gritted his teeth. “Do you watch Y/N—Stupefy!—play?”

“Y/N?” Jake looked confused for a moment, but his smile never faltered. “Yeah, of course! I always support Hufflepuff.”

Oh, right. They were in the same house. Logically, this was where Heeseung should’ve backed off, but jealousy seized him by the throat and made his head go funny.

He sent another streak of orange light flying in Jake’s direction, aiming right for his perfect hair. Jake deflected it. 

“Anyway,” Jake continued as he started to get the hang of performing wandless magic, “you guys are playing against Gryffindor next, right? I really think Slytherin’s gonna win. I mean, you guys have such a strong team, and…” 

As he kept droning on about how great the Slytherin Quidditch team was, Heeseung couldn't help but feel a bit confused. He was here to intimidate the Hufflepuff, but now he felt like he was at some sort of meet and greet. Why was Jake so bent on praising the Slytherin team? Heeseung assumed that the whole incentive for Quidditch games was for house pride, but Jake seemed to be taking it way too seriously. 

Come to think of it, Heeseung did find it strange that Jake had that defamatory newspaper clipping of Heeseung injured on the ground. Why would he specifically go looking for an article of the Slytherin team’s victory?

Heeseung lowered his wand when he heard a yelp to his right. Hong Seunghan had his wand raised over his head, a nearly-invisible shield circling his body that Heeseung could vaguely make out under the lamp light. 

“Watch it! This isn’t target practice, Heeseung!” Seunghan cried, looking absolutely distressed as he hastily adjusted his yellow-trimmed robes.

Heeseung’s Stunning Spell would’ve hit Seunghan if he hadn’t reacted in time. On one hand, he felt bad; on the other hand, he really thought Seunghan should’ve been patting himself on the back for his quick reaction time instead.

“My bad,” Heeseung mumbled. So much for his so-called good aim.

“And you,” Seunghan said—to Jake, this time, “stop distracting him with all your Quidditch talk!” 

Yeah, you tell him, Seunghan, thought Heeseung, who actually quite enjoyed talking about Quidditch.

To his surprise, Jake’s face started to flush pink. “I-I’m not trying to distract him or anything… I was just making conversation.” 

Seunghan threw him a lazy smirk before turning back to Heeseung and rolling his eyes playfully. “Put him out of his misery and set him up with your friend, will you?” 

“What?” Heeseung couldn’t stop himself from fuming at Seunghan’s words. The fire in his chest ignited once more, blazing with the heat of a thousand suns. 

Sungchan, who had been waiting patiently to attack Seunghan, rubbed the back of his neck. “Er—can we get back to—”

“Seunghan, drop it already,” Jake pleaded, his voice growing smaller and smaller. “It’s not happening.”

Seunghan shrugged and returned to blocking Sungchan’s attacks. The two of them seemed to be having fun with the exercise, at least. Heeseung and Jake were a disaster; Heeseung was far too vexed to think straight, and Jake was as bashful as a first year.

“You can ask her yourself, you know,” Heeseung said coldly, shooting a jet of red light in Jake’s direction. Jake barely managed to cast his shield in time to deflect Heeseung’s spell.

“I can’t,” Jake replied, all meek and timid again, which made Heeseung’s blood boil. 

He saw how comfortable Jake was around you, so why was he acting like this now? He was comfortable enough to walk up to you while you were with another guy; he was comfortable enough to keep eye contact while you smiled so radiantly at him; and he was comfortable enough to ask you to go to Hogsmede with him, so why was this such a big deal? 

Heeseung felt sick to his stomach. He wanted this class to be over so that he could go to his dormitory and wallow in his miserable state.

Jake sighed wistfully. “She probably has no idea I even exist.”

Heeseung blanked. 

He tossed around Jake’s words in his head a couple of times, trying to make sense of what he was saying. Heeseung perfectly understood being shy around a crush, but wasn’t this a bit much? From what he had observed, you most definitely knew of Jake’s existence.

Still confused, Heeseung replied, “I’m pretty sure she does.”

“Really?” Jake’s voice was louder, more hopeful. “She does? I mean, I guess she has to know I exist since we’re in the same class and all, but has she… has she ever mentioned me?”

Heeseung wondered if he should just stun Jake and leave class early.

Deciding against it for the sake of not receiving another week of detention, he answered, “Well, yeah, a couple of times.”

“Really? What did she say?”

“Uh…” Heeseung scratched his head as he tried to remember. “Something about telling you how I set off Dungbombs in Filch’s office.”

It was Jake’s turn to look confused. 

“That was Y/N,” he said.

“Yeah, I know.”

“Wait, did you think I was talking about Y/N this whole time?”

Heeseung had to duck this time when his spell rebounded off of Jake’s shield and went flying in his direction. He stood up straight again, this time with his eyebrows furrowed and his ears bright red from realizing that he was about to embarrass himself yet again. 

“You’re not?” he asked.

“No!”

“Then who are you talking about?” 

“M-Minjeong,” Jake stammered out. “Kim Minjeong.”

Heeseung stared at him. For a moment, he wasn’t even sure if this was reality; this could have all been some hyper-realistic dream—one of those absurd ones that hardly made sense but left him gasping for air when he woke up. 

But Heeseung’s feet were planted firmly on the ground and he had all ten of his fingers, so this couldn’t be a dream. Yet, when he drew in a shuddering breath, he couldn’t shake off the feeling that something was very wrong about this whole thing. Had he really been wrong about Jake Sim this entire time?

Also Minjeong? When he was friends with you? Heeseung wasn’t one to judge people’s tastes, but he’d swim oceans for you yet hardly cross a puddle for Minjeong. (Perhaps that was just because he resented the Slytherin girl for always making fun of his Quidditch screw-ups.)

So that was why Jake had been overly-invested in the Slytherin team. He wasn’t a Quidditch-fanatic whose house pride flew out the window; he was just harboring a crush this whole time! Heeseung was so relieved that the inferno in his chest had quelled. 

In fact, he was so relieved that he let out a shaky laugh without having half the mind to hold it in. Jake must have thought Heeseung was making fun of his crush, but Heeseung couldn’t help but laugh and laugh about how pathetic he had been this whole time. He had lost sleep over Jake Sim, only for him to like someone completely different. 

How ridiculous.

Heeseung crossed the distance between them and patted him firmly on the back, taking the Hufflepuff by surprise. “Minjeong, huh? I’ll introduce you.”

Jake’s eyes shone. “You will?”

“Of course I will. Now, tell me,” Heeseung started, his voice taking on a serious edge as he slung an arm around Jake’s shoulders, “where did you get your robes?”

It was such a lovely day outside; the grass was greener, the skies were bluer, and there wasn’t a single cloud in sight—perfect weather to fly. Heeseung could even hear the birds singing as he strode down the hallway, trying very, very hard to keep himself from skipping. 

He wasn’t even trying to eavesdrop, but he picked up on the conversation a couple of fifth years were having nearby.

"—heard they both had to go to the infirmary!” one of them whispered to the other. “It was that bad!”

“Over a silly game?” The other girl, who Heeseung named Girl Two in his head, scoffed. “I’ll never understand Quidditch.”

Girl One shook her head. “Not over the game. It was over Lee Heeseung.”

Heeseung, who was slowly realizing that he was the Lee Heeseung they were gossiping about, suddenly felt very engaged in this conversation that he wasn’t part of. His guilty pleasure happened to be listening in on all of the scandalous happenings at Hogwarts. For him to be indirectly involved was even more exciting.

“Lee Heeseung?” Girl Two frowned. “Why would Y/N pick a fight over Lee Heeseung?”

He nearly tripped over his own feet. Heeseung had to scurry behind a pillar before anyone saw him blushing like a madman, but now he was worried about how strange it looked for him to be spying on a couple of fifth years from behind a pillar. 

Yet, he couldn’t bring himself to pull away. You fought someone? And you were in the infirmary? His sick happiness was quickly replaced with dreadful worry. 

(But he also wasn’t too worried; you could clearly handle your own.)

“No clue,” Girl One said. “I suppose they’re dating.”

Heeseung couldn’t stop the giggle from escaping his lips. He clamped a hand over his mouth as soon as it slipped out, and Girl One and Girl Two looked around suspiciously. 

“Who was that?” Girl Two asked sharply. 

“Must be that Ravenclaw girl,” Girl One replied bitterly, taking her wand out of her robes.

Heeseung had no idea who ‘that Ravenclaw girl’ was referring to, but he knew that he was no longer safe in their vicinity. After casting a Disillusionment Charm on himself, he fled the scene immediately, only removing the charm once he was safely down the hall. 

He hadn’t even realized his heart was racing faster than it ever had in his life until he found himself sprinting in the direction of the infirmary. 

“Mr. Lee, no running in the halls!” Professor Longbottom cried over his shoulder, gripping the pot of a Mandrake tightly. “That’ll be five points from—oh, forget it.”

Madam Pomfrey looked unsurprised to see Heeseung walking in, all sweaty and panting. She simply pointed in the direction of where your bed was and walked off to tend to some second year who, judging by the twigs in his hair, decided to test his luck with the Whomping Willow.

You were sulking in bed, turned on your side so that your back was facing Heeseung. It looked like you were mostly unscathed, but when Heeseung rounded the corner of your bed, all he could see was red when he noticed the cut on your lip and gash on your cheek. 

“Heeseung!” you gasped, sitting up straight so that you could swing your legs off the bed. “How’d you know—”

“Who did this?” he asked angrily, drawing out his wand and looking around the infirmary. He remembered Girl One saying that both parties were sent to the infirmary, so they must have still been around. “Who hurt you?”

“It’s not that bad, I just—”

“Not that bad?” he repeated louder. “You’re hurt!”

“It’s not that bad,” you said again, quieter. You held onto Heeseung’s bicep with gentle hands, which happened to immediately calm him down. “Sit.”

Heeseung sighed and sat down on the edge of your bed. He had felt remarkably happier after finding out that Jake did not, in fact, have a thing for you, but now he was riled up again. He wondered what you thought about Jake, but then Heeseung wondered why you were picking fights over him.

“It was the Seeker from the Gryffindor team,” you told him in an oddly calm voice, although he couldn’t help but notice how you were fiddling with your fingers too much. “She was talking down on you during class, so I picked an argument with her after class. That’s how I got these.” You pointed at the cuts on your lower lip and cheek. 

“But you don’t need to worry about her; she’s worse off than I am. I got her with a knee-reversal hex,” you said with a sheepish grin. “Let’s see how she flies after this.”

Heeseung stared at you. “You’re insane.”

“I believe the words you’re looking for are thank—”

“I love you.”

He believed he said it very, very softly, but his words echoed in his head so loudly that Heeseung couldn’t be completely sure that he hadn’t yelled it for the infirmary to hear. If it weren’t for the second year complaining loudly about how unsafe it was to have a murderous tree on school grounds, then Heeseung was sure the room would have been dead silent following his confession. 

You didn’t move. The worst was happening right now; Heeseung had boldly blurted out his feelings just for you to not answer him and soon hate him for the rest of your life. It was fine. You two would graduate soon. He would no longer have to see you again, even though the smell of lavender would be a constant reminder of his first love and first heartbreak. He would die alone now. Oh, and he’d have to tell his parents with deep regret that they would not have grandchildren. 

“Heeseung,” you whispered, and your lips started framing soundless words that you couldn’t get out.

The cat was out of the bag, so all Heeseung could do was stand up and own up to his words.

“You were right,” he said. “My Amortentia did smell like lavender—like you.”

He grabbed the rag on the table next to your bed, soaking it in water and wringing it out. Normally, Heeseung would have been shaking like a leaf, but he was oddly calm as he delicately held your chin, tilting your head to the side enough to get a good look at you. 

“I must’ve fallen in love with you years ago—maybe even from the first time you tripped me at the Sorting Hat Ceremony,” he said softly as he dabbed at your fresh cut, and although your eyes were wide and glossy, you hardly even flinched. Heeseung was pretty sure he had never even admitted what he said out loud to himself. When he was done and set the rag aside, he said, “So… glad I got that out before I kept it to myself for the rest of my life. I’ll get going now and hopefully not kill myself on the way.”

He hurried past Madam Pomfrey, making eye contact with no one except the Gryffindor Seeker, whose knees were bent at an awkward angle. She leered at him, to which Heeseung paid no attention because he had far bigger things to worry about, like the fact that his life was over.

Before he got all the way down the hall, though, he heard footsteps getting louder and louder. When he turned to see you speeding after him, Heeseung panicked and started running himself. 

“Why are you running?!” you cried.

“Why are you chasing me?!” he yelled back. 

“Stop running! Get over here, Lee Heeseung!”

“No!” He was very embarrassed to note that his voice did indeed crack. “I’m scared!”

“Colloshoo!” 

It was like he had rammed right into a wall. Heeseung felt like his shoes were glued to the floor, and, with a grunt, he ended up falling forward and landing on his face when they wouldn’t budge. If only you had waited to hex him after he reached the grassy outdoors instead of the hard, stone flooring of the breezeway. 

“You hexed me!” He turned to look at you, exasperated. “How could you hex me after hexing someone for me?!”

“Now stay there.”

“No.” Stubborn, Heeseung started walking ahead—right down to the Great Lake so that he could wallow in embarrassment in that particularly nice patch of grass. He abandoned his shoes and trudged ahead in his socks. “And don’t follow me!”

“Heeseung,” you warned. 

He groaned and turned on you just before he was looking forward to sitting down on the grass, pointing an accusatory finger at you. “You—you’re terrible luck, you know that? Sheer bad luck. You know I’ve lived eleven years of my life perfectly fine until you showed up? Suddenly, everything goes wrong when I’m around you! And it’s not just missing the Hogwarts Express or blowing up a potion, it’s everything else!”

You calmly listened to him as he continued in his wild craze, “I can hardly breathe when I’m around you! I can’t even look at you for too long, or else I’ll probably combust. You make it so impossible for me to stay away from you, even though the very thing I need for the sake of my sanity is to stay away from you!”

“Are you done now?” you asked calmly, not quite breathing as hard as he was, but your chest was still rising and falling as if you were winded from running. 

“Yes,” he said, “so I’ll go drown myself in the—”

Before he could finish the rest of his sentence, you grabbed Heeseung by the front of his robes and pulled him down to kiss him senseless. He thought he had been hit with a Stunning Spell from how still he was, but when he realized that this was real life and you were indeed kissing him, his hand made its way to cradle your jaw as he kissed you back with searing passion.

He was ashamed to say that he had dreamt about this scenario many times, charted all of his next moves in great detail, and fantasized about doing much more than he’d like to admit. Heeseung felt like his heart was going to burst out of his chest, but he kept his lips pressed to yours like it was the only thing keeping him tethered to reality. 

This was everything and more than he ever expected. He was certain he could never grow tired of the taste of your lips, and he was honestly scolding himself for not having done this sooner. 

Your arms naturally found their way around his neck, and Heeseung took that as his cue to drop his to your waist. Still locked in a tight embrace, you pulled away to catch your breath, leaving Heeseung to chase after your lips.

“—Great Lake,” he finished his sentence in a breath, “and hopefully get eaten by the Giant Squid—”

“Oh, shut up,” you cut him off to kiss him again. 

Heeseung had no further objections. He supposed this meant that he had the shiny new title of being your boyfriend, which he considered a higher honor than Quidditch Captain. This was saying a lot because Quidditch Captains got to use the really nice bathrooms.

Your kiss was slower this time, as if you both realized you had all the time in the world. And when you both finally broke apart, Heeseung let his fingers trace the outline of your lips to commit its shape to memory. 

This time when you smiled, it was far brighter than any Patronus Charm he had ever seen.

“I love you, too,” you told him with a shy grin. “Always have.” 

“Seriously?”

“Since our first year. Tripping you was by accident, of course. I just thought you were cute.” 

Heeseung was pretty sure the average wizard's heart couldn’t handle this overload of emotions. In a few seconds, he was sure he would need to be admitted to the infirmary himself. 

Then, you punched his shoulder. Hard.

“If you didn’t Disapparate on the spot back in Hogsmede, then maybe I could've told you sooner!” 

“It’s not like I wanted to Apparate away, but… but you put me on the spot!” he exclaimed. Heeseung let his shoulders sag. “Either way, I thought you liked Jake.”

“Jake?” You looked confused before you burst into laughter. “What made you think I liked Jake? He’s so clearly into Minjeong!”

It seemed to be that everyone thought the notion of Jake and you liking each other was absolutely ridiculous. If it wasn’t too late, Heeseung was up for pitching himself in the depths of the Great Lake.

Girl One and Girl Two would surely get a kick out of this. 

“Okay, I get it. I’m stupid,” he said, but you wouldn't stop laughing. Heeseung sighed heavily as you wiped tears from the corners of your eyes. “Alright, that’s it, you’re so getting it.”

This time, he grabbed hold of your face (gently, of course, because he didn't want to add pressure to your gash), and he peppered kisses all over your face. You scrunched up your nose, giggling as Heeseung kissed your forehead, your nose, your cheeks, and then finally your lips. 

And this—this moment he had been anticipating for seven years—was loads better than letting the Giant Squid eat him.

AUTHOR'S NOTE ▸ the next morning, heeseung wakes up and basks in the afterglow of finally confessing to the girl of his dreams!! jay hands him the paper during breakfast and a picture of his shoes glued to the floor is on the front cover. anyways i hope you liked this fic!! so fun to write because i'm deep in a harry potter phase (how did this happen??) but happy valentine's day & thank you for reading <3

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#recs ⁝ lee heeseung #lee heeseung ⁝ fics

[jaeyunwrld]

every fragile thing

genre: figure skater au, college au, enemies to lovers, angst and fluff

pairing: park sunghoon x f reader

word count: 12.3k

soundtrack: jealousy, jealousy / brutal / the grudge / get him back! / good 4 u - olivia rodrigio

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After an ankle injury lands you in weekly physical therapy sessions instead of on the ice where you should be training for regionals, you’re certain you must be the most emotionally volatile figure skater within a hundred mile radius. Park Sunghoon proves you wrong.

or,

every fragile thing has one of two choices: become stronger or shatter into a million pieces.

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

Silence. One word, two syllables. A fairly straightforward term with a meaning that can be easily deduced from a quick scan of its Merriam-Webster definition. 

But unlike many words, silence is one that’s typically learned through experience. Through stilted beats, pregnant pauses, dreamlike moments in the dead of night while the world around you is at a standstill. 

In the moments just before the music starts, when it feels as if the audience around you is holding their breath. And you stand at the center of it all, blades of your tightly laced skates against ice, chest rising and falling in time with your heartbeat, mind spinning with possibility. In those moments, your long trained muscles take over, following the memory of countless repetitions as your body prepares to do what it knows best. 

There’s a question in that silence. One that’s asked with baited breath. 

Will I land this skill? Will I go home with a medal around my neck, cold weight a familiar comfort against my skin? Will this be my best performance yet? Will they love it? Love me?

That, as you’ve come to learn, is your favorite kind of silence. The kind that’s filled with endless possibility, with the promise of something beautiful or disastrous or some odd mix of the two to come. 

The feeling of freedom, of flying as blade cuts through ice, as your body defies gravity with every jump, every spin. 

But that is very much not the kind of silence that greets you where Dr. Min eyes you warily over the top of his pristine clipboard, a crease forming between his dark eyebrows. Frowning, he glances at the paper once more before returning his gaze to you. 

“You’re sure you’ve been resting? No weight on the fracture at all?”

It takes a good chunk of your willpower not to roll your eyes. Mostly because you’re lying through your teeth, but who’s keeping track? 

“Yes, I’m sure.” Gesturing to the thick black boot the lower part of your left leg and foot have been imprisoned in for the better part of a month, you add, “This thing’s still coming off in two weeks, right?”

Two weeks is pushing it, but you’ve done more with less. Two weeks puts you exactly three months out from regionals, which gives you exactly ninety-one days to pull together the most jaw dropping program you or the judges have ever seen. One that’s certain to land you on the podium and secure a spot at nationals. 

Once again, you thank your lucky stars for Coach Lee. She’s been with you since you were still struggling to lace your own skates, and there’s no one else you’d trust to have you ready for regionals in such a short time frame. No one else you’d bet your fate on like this. 

“That was our original time frame, yes…” Dr. Min trails off, avoiding your gaze in a way that has your stomach dropping unpleasantly. 

“And we’ll be sticking to it, I’m sure.” You hate the way the end of your phrase turns up like a question. 

Dr. Min sighs. “Look, ___, our original time frame was ambitious to begin with, and I hate to tell you this, but your ankle is not healing as well as we’d hoped. Fractures don’t heal overnight, and the best thing for you right now is rest.” 

The argument is already forming on your tongue. “But—”

“I know it’s hard to believe, but I’m not trying to ruin your life, ___. Truly. I’m saying this to you as the parent of an athlete and a former athlete myself. Pushing yourself now will only lead to reinjury in the future and will also very likely shorten your career. Your ankle needs to heal before you skate on it again. It needs to heal before you so much as put weight on it. And you need to let it heal completely.” The sincerity in his voice is hard to stomach when he says, “Believe me when I tell you that you’ll regret it for the rest of life if you don’t.”

And logically, you know he’s right. Know that this will be nothing but a minor setback if you allow it to run its course. If you follow his advice to rest and heal. But skating has never been something you’ve done with the logical parts of yourself. And Dr. Min doesn’t get it. You tell him as much. “You don’t understand what you’re asking me to do. Regionals are in less than four months, and—”

“I hear you. Believe me, I do. But this is your third year of university, which means you have another shot at nationals next year. If you push it and try to skate before you’re ready, you may very well lose that chance.”

“So I’m supposed to do what? Sit around and do nothing until my ankle decides to cooperate?” Even voicing the possibility has you suppressing a grimace. 

But Dr. Min has different thoughts. “Yes. That is exactly what you need to do.”

You don’t avert your gaze. Neither does he. Finally, after a moment, he sighs. “My recommendation at this point is still rest, but—”

“But?” Your excitement is impossible to contain fully. 

Dr. Min levels you with a cautionary look over his clipboard. “But, if you’re going to do anything, our athletics department does also run a physical therapy program, which I think could be beneficial. It would help to retain flexibility, mobility, and agility in the areas of your leg that support your ankle. It could help get you back on the ice faster and maintain the leg strength you’ve built. There’s a group session that runs on Tuesday afternoons—”

“Yes,” you nod, not bothering to hear the end of his statement. “Yes, I’ll do that.”

“I… okay.” As much as you want to hate him for it, Dr. Min has a point. And while you doubt physical therapy will be anywhere near as grueling as your usual workouts, it sounds a hell of a lot better than doing nothing. 

…

You’ve never liked hospitals. The odd juxtaposition of white, lifeless sterility and a culmination of some of life’s most painful moments has always left an unpleasant taste on your tongue. 

It’s one that has you double checking the address Dr. Min forwarded to you as you enter the oddly cheerful building that is apparently home to a renowned athletics physical therapy facility. Despite the medical purpose, there’s a distinct liveliness that envelops the space. 

The woman at reception informs you that this is indeed the right building and the session you’re attending has just begun in the room to your left. 

Pausing at the door, you’re struck with a sudden timidness. A physical therapy group for athletes will obviously be filled with, well, athletes. And although you can’t speak too harshly on that particular subsect of people, being one yourself, they can be intimidating. It must be the competitiveness, you think. The drive to push, succeed, win that gives off such a distinct aura.

Steeling yourself with one last breath, you remind yourself that’s why you’re here. To get back to that version of you that has everyone else feeling a little shier. That version of you that eats, breathes, and sleeps with ice skates laced on your feet and visions of the top of a podium driving your every decision. 

With determination straightening your brow, you push open the door. 

And immediately find yourself grateful for the mental preparation as three heads snap in your direction.  

Hitching your bag up an inch on your shoulder, you try not to melt under the sudden awkwardness. Thankfully, one of them is better at breaking ice than you.

“Hi,” the boy closest to you is the first to fill the silence. He’s all smiles where he gives you a friendly wave, moving a stray hair out of his eyes with a flick of his head as he tells you, “I’m Jungwon.”

You offer your name in return, trying on a smile to match his friendliness. You have a feeling it comes more naturally to him than it ever will to you, though. 

Regardless, he offers an equally cheerful, “Nice to meet you.” Glancing over to where the second boy is moving through a series of stretches, Jungwon makes eye contact, silently telling him he’s up next. 

Even mid-stretch, he acquiesces. “I’m Niki,” the second boy follows. 

“And I’m Jake.” The last boy doesn’t need any prompting from Jungwon. Nodding towards the walking boot that covers the bottom half of your left leg, he glances at a similar one that he wears on his own. “Looks like we’re twins. Tore up my achilles pretty bad in my last soccer match,” he explains. “What about you?”

“Fractured my ankle,” you return, a rueful smile dragging your lips up. “Figure skater.”

“Ah, man.” Jungwon winces. “That sucks.”

You shrug, forcing a nonchalance you don’t feel. “No worse than a busted achilles.” 

“That’s cool that you skate though,” Jake offers. “Kind of a funny coincidence, actually. There’s another—”

Whatever it is, he doesn’t get to finish the thought. At that moment, the door opens again, this time revealing a middle aged woman in a white physician’s coat. Her name tag reads Dr. Kim, and she introduces herself as such to you. 

“Looks like everyone’s here, including our new member.” She gives another cursory nod in your direction. “Welcome again.” Glancing around, the instructor pauses. “Oh, wait. Except for—”

“I’m here, I’m here.” For the second time in the span of a minute, the door behind you opens. You don’t miss the glance that passes between Niki and Jake. You turn to face the new arrival, but his back is to you as he sets his bag down and begins the process of switching his shoes. 

The way the new member enters with a dismissive wave of his hand and lack of proper greeting has you thinking tardiness is not an uncommon trait of his. Even from behind, you can feel the waves of arrogance he exudes. That seems to align more with your preconceived notions of athletes. 

Studying him for another second, a sinking feeling of dread begins to build in the pit of your stomach. Long, dark hair. Unnaturally graceful movements, even if all he’s doing is digging through his bag. Tall stature, broad shoulders, long legs. 

An athlete’s build through and through. Perfectly suited for the ice. 

“Great.” Despite the statement, Dr. Kim’s tone is flat. “Well, we were just getting started and introducing ourselves since we have someone new joining us today.”

“Hi,” he offers, still fixated on his bag, yet to offer as much as a glance in your direction. If anything, it only serves as a confirmation of his identity. “I’m—” You don’t even need to hear him say it. 

“Sunghoon?”

At that, he does finally look up. 

Gaze locking with yours, a moment of confusion is quickly replaced by a furrow in his brow, the slight downturn of his lips. He’s not thrilled to see you either. 

A beat passes. 

Two. 

Neither of you break eye contact. 

The silence extends to the point of discomfort for all four onlookers, each of them hesitant to break the tension that’s rising by the second. 

Finally, Dr. Kim takes a knife to the tension. “Do you two know each other?” 

Park Sunghoon. Renowned figure skater at your rival university. Someone with such a natural knack for carving lines through ice that whispers of prodigy have been shadowing his footsteps since the minute he put them on a rink. 

Someone with his head so far up his own ass you’re not sure how he can see half the time, much less keep his hair looking so perfect. 

Oh, you know him alright. 

“___?”

And it would seem he remembers you as well. 

It also answers Dr. Kim’s question well enough. 

“Ah, good.” It sounds like a question, like she’s hoping your acquaintance will be a positive thing instead of a disaster. You don’t have the heart to tell her otherwise. “The figure skating community is tight knit, I suppose.”

You suppress a scoff. That’s one word for it, you guess. 

You remember when it felt that way to you, too. Before tight knit became too small. Back before university, when it felt like it was you and Park Sunghoon against the world, instead of against each other. Back when the two of you didn’t skate for opposing teams but instead were members of the same club. A time when you took the ice together, skated as partners until he—

You force your thoughts to stop in their tracks. Your blood pressure has spiked enough in the last few days, and thinking back on long days spent with Park Sunghoon will only send it skyrocketing again. 

If anything, you’ll use this opportunity to practice perfecting your poker face for when you inevitably run into him at future competitions. 

And future competitions means you need a healed ankle, not a bruised ego. And certainly not an unpleasant trip down memory lane. 

Turning away from Sunghoon, you’re the first one to answer when Dr. Kim asks if you’re ready to get started. 

“Yes,” you tell her, determination written across your brow, in the set of your shoulders, and perhaps most noticeably, in the way you avoid Sunghoon’s wandering gaze for the next two hours. 

…

Without the rink, days are quick to meld into one another. It may be concerning, considering that you still have a set schedule of classes and homework to follow, but your life has revolved around training for so long that it’s hard to tell Mondays from Wednesdays without a set practice schedule. 

Thankfully, you do still make it back to the clinic at the right time on the right day, this time for another session with Dr. Kim and your fellow band of broken athletes. 

Including him. 

Aside from the glaringly obvious exception, you’re not as bothered at the thought of returning as you feared you might be. 

Jungwon, Niki, and Jake have proven themself pleasant enough company, and Dr. Kim seems to have built an understanding of how difficult it is to be forcibly removed from the sport you love. As such, she’s one of the least aggravating medical professionals you’ve spent time around. 

“Hey,” Niki greets when you arrive. “Did you have a good weekend?”

You shrug. “Good enough. Mostly just catching up on homework.” Setting your bag down and switching out your shoes, you join him on the mat, beginning the series of warm-up stretches Dr. Kim instructed you through last week. “What about you?”

“Not too bad. I got some good news from my doctor, actually.” He switches legs in his stretch, and you’re almost envious of his flexibility. He’s a dancer, and an exceedingly good one at that. One with an unfortunate knee injury at the moment. “My x-rays are looking a lot better. He thinks I might be able to start easing back into regular use by next month.” 

“That’s great,” you smile, even as a pang of jealousy stabs somewhere near your gut. “I’m really happy for you, Niki.” 

“A month still feels like forever, though, doesn’t it?” He sighs. “I can’t remember the last time I was out of the studio for this long.” 

Jungwon slides down onto the mat next to you, joining in on the stretch routine. “Consider yourself lucky, man. They told me at my last check-up that I probably won’t be able to do any jumping or kicks again for at least three months even though the fracture is already mostly healed.” He shakes his head. “No jumping or kicking,” he echoes, sarcasm dripping from every word. “You know, things that are super easy to avoid in taekwondo.”

“If it’s any consolation, I just got told that I’m gonna have to sit out of regionals this year. Which means I’ll have no way of qualifying for nationals.” You wonder how many times you’ll have to admit that particular reality to yourself before the sting starts to fade. 

“That sucks.” Jake agrees, coming down to the mat and occupying the spot next to Niki. “I’ll probably have to sit for this entire season, too. I love my team, but it’s so frustrating watching them play when I know I could be an asset on the field.”

“That’s true.” You’re struck by a sudden wave of sympathy. “At least skating is an individual sport, so the only person I have to disappoint is myself.” 

“Speaking of skating,” Jungwon sounds hesitant as he approaches the subject. “Do you and Sunghoon, uh…” he pauses for a moment in search of a neutral way of framing the unmistakable tension that surfaced the last time he saw the two of you together. “Do you two know each other?”

Grimacing internally, you suppose an explanation was bound to be solicited after your icy reunion. “We skate for rival universities.” Your gaze fixes on a spot on the ground. “And before college we used to, uh, we used to skate for the same club.”

The three boys share a glance. It’s hardly an explanation for the venom you said his name with but before they can press you further, the subject in question enters the room. 

Again, he takes his time setting his bag down, getting his things ready. This time, he also pulls out an obnoxiously big pair of headphones, secures them over his ears before he bothers to turn around. Despite the fact that all three boys offer him friendly smiles and waves, he returns the gesture only with a tight smile, making his way to the mat on the opposite side of the room before he begins his stretch routine.

It’s a message that rings loud and clear. A frown passes between Jake, Jungwon, and Niki. It’s obvious to you, then, that you’re the reason he chose to set himself up as far away as physically possible. 

So be it, you think, letting the slight roll right off of you. It’s not the first time he’s given you the cold shoulder for something he plays an equal part in, and you doubt it will be the last. 

Besides, it will only make your sessions pass by quicker, if the burden of avoiding gazes and minimizing interactions falls on his shoulders instead of yours.

With nothing but a shrug, you adjust slightly, ensuring that the only view he has of you is of your back. 

…

It’s a pattern that continues as physical therapy sessions start to become a regular routine in your week. Sunghoon, with his apparent disdain for anyone’s time but his own, is always the last to arrive. He also continues his habit of picking the spot in the room furthest away from you. 

Despite the fact that you’d like to chalk it up to his social ineptitude alone, that explanation doesn’t track. Although there’s still a certain aura of aloofness that follows where he goes, it’s too often that you see him smiling at a joke cracked by Jake or sharing easy conversations with Jungwon and Niki.  

Hell, he even interacts with Dr. Kim with a level of warmth you didn’t know was possible coming from him. If there’s any disdain in their conversations, he directs it all towards his right wrist. It’s why he’s here, you assume. Encased in a brace similar to the one you wear on your left ankle, his right forearm seems to be the reason for his attendance. 

It’s hard to not be envious. While a wrist injury is nothing to scoff at, it doesn’t necessarily keep you off the ice. Not in the same way a fractured ankle does. 

Refocusing your thoughts, you push the boy across the room firmly out of mind as Dr. Kim helps adjust you into the next stretch.

“How about now?” Dr. Kim pushes your spine a fraction of an inch further, pressure light but demanding. Before, this much flexibility would have been an easy request of your body, but lack of use has your muscles feeling tight. “Any tightness or pain?”

“No.” The bead of sweat on your brow begs to differ, as does the way the negation slipped through gritted teeth. 

But you’re frustrated. Annoyed at the progress you’ve lost, at the new limits of your body, at the way you feel like a stranger in your own skin. 

Across the room, you miss the flicker of annoyance that flits over Sunghoon’s features. Headphones on as always, you imagine you’re nothing more than a blip on his radar, a pesky intruder that’s easily ignored as long as he has his back to you. 

“Hm,” Dr. Kim muses. “You’ve retained more flexibility than I expected.” She offers you a smile. “That’s a good thing, a sign of a quick recovery.”

You suppress a grimace. It should be a good thing. You should be recovering quickly. If only you could get your stupid body to cooperate. 

Stealing another glance at the boy across the room, you can’t help the way a small burst of rage bubbles in your stomach. Prodigy. Why does he always get to be the anomaly, the exception to the rule? His injury is already less severe than yours, and he’s probably recovering quickly, too. Without even having to fake it.

Easing you out of the stretch, Dr. Kim jots down a quick note. “I’ll have Dr. Min run another x-ray at your next visit.” Nodding towards your ankle, she adds, “I think there’s a good chance that things are looking a lot better, and updated x-rays will help guide our next sessions.” She pauses for a minute. “I don’t want to get ahead of myself or get your hopes up, but I think we might be able to start putting some weight back on it soon. Start getting it stronger again.” 

You’re hesitant to let your excitement grow too much. But it would be a lie if you weren’t already counting the days until your next visit with Dr. Min in your head. “Thank you,” you tell her. “I’ll hope those x-rays come back looking good, then.”

“Me too,” she smiles. “I’ll see you next week, then. Hopefully with good news.”

You nod, returning her smile before heading to the door to gather your things. Jungwon catches you on your way out. 

“Hey, ___, hold on a sec.” When you turn back towards him, he tells you, “The rest of us are gonna grab lunch at a place nearby, if you want to join.”

Your uncertainty must write itself across your features, because he’s quick to add, “Don’t worry. Sunghoon won’t be there. He’s got a class right after this.”

Slightly embarrassed by the way he read you so easily, you nod. “Sure. Lunch sounds good.” Despite their friendliness with Sunghoon, you’ve come to like the three of them. And it’s been far too long since you broke up the monotony of class, homework, and medical appointments with something as simple as lunch with friends. 

And as long as he’s not there, you imagine it will be nothing but pleasant. 

It doesn’t take long for them to prove you wrong. 

Niki barely lets you get one bite in before he asks, “So, what exactly happened between you two?” Even without the name, the question is obvious. 

Still, after choking on the sip of water you’d been taking, you answer, “Who?”

Jake just gives you a look. 

You sigh. “Like I said, we used to skate for the same club. We, uh, never really got along, I guess.” Avoiding eye contact, you add, “And now we skate for rival schools. I suppose it’s only natural to not like each other.”

Niki doesn’t miss a beat. “Yeah, that sounds made up.”

Jungwon swallows his bite, parts his lips like he has something to say. Internally, you heave a sigh of relief. If any of the three of them spare you, you have a feeling it would be him. “I mean, it does seem like something else must have happened.”

Or not. 

“You don’t have to tell us,” he adds. “But it’s just… I mean, the two of you can’t even look at each other.”

Sighing, you suppose the circumstances do look odd from the outside. “There was… an incident. Back when we used to skate together.”

“What?” Jake asks. “Did he steal your skates right before a show or something?” 

“No, no.” You shake your head. “It happened on the ice, actually. During a program.”

“Wait,” Niki interrupts. “You said you used to skate together. Do you mean like, as partners?”

The guilt on your face says it all. 

“No way.” Jake says. 

Jungwon’s eyes grow bigger. “What did he do?”

“Yeah,” Niki turns to face you fully. “Wouldn’t being his partner be a good thing? At least on the ice, I mean. I know he can be a little insufferable, but isn’t he some sort of prodigy—”

“Prodigy, my ass.” You’re so sick of that goddamn word. “Wasn’t a prodigy when he dropped me in the middle of our program at junior nationals, was he?”

The way all three or their jaws drop in unison is almost worth the admission. 

But the thing is, he was. No accusatory fingers pointed in his direction after it happened. No one blamed prodigy Park Sunghoon for the mishap. 

No, it was decided fair and square by the jury of public opinion that the mistake was entirely your fault, your burden to bear. And it’s not like you were immune to the criticism. Whispers followed where you went. And you always, always managed to hear them. 

Maybe if you’d trained a little harder, completed the second rotation a little sooner, the skill would have gone off without a hitch, they mused. Hell, maybe if you’d stuck to your diet a little better, those last two pounds would have spelled the difference between a perfect landing and your ass on frozen ground, program music still crescendoing as onlookers watched with horrified fascination.

“Oh,” Jungwon grimaces. 

“That’s rough,” Niki agrees. 

And they don’t even know the worst of it. Don’t know that back then, at sixteen, you’d had a giant, soul crushing, earth shattering, massive crush on your skating partner. That you searched for his approval just as eagerly as you’d sought out Coach Kang's. 

That you’d squeezed in as many extra practice sessions as physically possible for five months leading up to the routine just to make sure you were as close to flawless as possible, just to make sure you were chosen to be his partner on the ice. 

That you giggled, giggled, when you saw the matching costumes the two of you would wear for the first time. 

That you followed where he went with long sighs and lovesick eyes. That you looked forward to the grueling hours you spent on the ice with him, turning perfection into something even greater. 

That your heart skipped a beat every time you ran through your program, every time he caught you with sure hands and a strong grip. 

That Park Sunghoon never made a mistake, never let you fall, not once. 

Not until a spotlight was spinning dreams into reality and you were already anticipating the secret smiles you’d share with matching gold medals around your necks. 

Not until it all shattered in a single moment. 

It was cold, as you laid there on the ice, sprawled out and unable to move from the sudden shock of it all. Luckily, you’d avoided any critical injuries. You had staggered off the ice with nothing but some bad bruising, the worst of it staining your ego and your heart. 

And after it all, no matter how many times you passed him on your way to the locker room, shared the ice with him, or searched for the gaze he pointedly avoided across the room, Park Sunghoon never uttered the two words that just might have made you forgive it all. 

Instead of an apology or even the decency of an explanation, you got a cold shoulder and a lost friendship you were too confused by to mourn. 

In the end, you’d decided to turn it all into a blessing in a very thorough disguise. From that moment onwards, all of your time on the ice was dedicated to you and you alone. Never would you let anything but the sheer strength of your own will, your own goals, motivate you to become better, faster, stronger. 

And you found that victory tasted even sweeter, when the full weight of it could rest on your shoulders alone. When no one could whisper behind their palms that the only reason you stood on the podium was a prodigy of a partner. 

So fine. Park Sunghoon didn’t owe you shit. Not an apology, an explanation, or even a second glance. 

And if he was a prodigy, an ice prince or whatever stupid title he’d earned alongside his medals, well, you’d just have to be even better.

But now, sitting across from new friends with a fractured ankle and a ruined shot at medalling this year, a quiet part of you admits for the first time that maybe, just maybe, part of that resolve is nothing but spite in disguise. Part of the anger you’ve clung to for so long isn’t directed at him, but at yourself. 

That it was embarrassing to fall in front of a crowd, yes, but it was also humiliating to know that he was hearing all those little comments about your inferiority too. To realize that his silence meant he probably agreed. That you were a liability of a partner, unequal in both skill and importance. That he could move on from the incident, from you, completely unscathed. 

That your little crush was entirely one-sided, just like the respect and admiration you’d once felt for him. 

You stare at the half-eaten lunch in front of you, appetite suddenly completely gone. 

“What a coincidence that the two of you ended up injured at the same time,” Jake muses. 

“And in the same physical therapy group.” Jungwon nods. 

“Yeah,” you echo hollowly. “What a coincidence.”

…

When Park Sunghoon speaks to you for the first time in five years, it’s completely by accident.

As the weeks have continued on, you’ve fallen into a perfect routine during your shared physical therapy sessions. A routine of avoidance, ignorance, and as much space between the two of you as physically possible. It’s become so easy that the two of you navigate it with the kind of grace only two elite figure skaters could ever manage. 

If anything, it’s more awkward for the other members of your session than it is for the two of you. Jungwon, Jake, Niki, and Dr. Kim are the ones suffering as they try to stay friendly with both of you without icing out the other. 

It must be why he doesn’t even bother to check who it is that’s standing right next to him as he reaches for his bag on the shelf near the front door at the end of another session. Must be why he says it in a voice so casual you don’t think it’s him at first. “How pissed do you think Dr. Kim will be if I’m late again next week?”

Even though the voice doesn’t quite fit, you half expect to see Jake standing next to you when you turn to the side. 

Sunghoon realizes his mistake at the exact same second you do. You watch as shock flickers across his features, quickly replaced by something guarded, unreadable. Just as completely closed off to you as always. 

It pisses you off, the way he’s so utterly and completely unaffected by you. The way he can brush you off as easily as a piece of dust. Insignificant. Unimportant. Unwanted. It has you freeing the reins on comments you should bite back instead. 

“Hard to say.” Ice and resentment drip from every syllable. “Then again, I’m surprised you care about what she thinks. Doesn’t seem like something that would bother you.”

That at least earns you some of his emotion. Another bout of shock crosses his face before it shifts to confusion and falls finally to anger. You can see it in the furrow of his brow, the set of his jaw. The flare of heat in his eyes. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

If he falls to anger, you’ll rise above it. At least on the outside. There’s no accounting for the way your gut twists in rage. Still, you offer him a smile that’s almost as fake as it is sickeningly sweet. “I’m sure you’ll figure it out if you spend enough time thinking about it.” It’s patronizing, and intentionally so. You hope it annoys him enough to keep him up tonight. 

Reaching for the front door, you take your exit first. The hallways of this building have become familiar over the weeks. Even with anger clouding your vision and a bad ankle, you trace a steady path to the parking lot. You’re halfway to your car when the sound of your name stops you in your tracks. 

You freeze for a moment, turning the sound of it over in your brain, stuck on the way it almost sounds like a plea, a prayer coming from his lips. The sound of footsteps draws nearer. They fall quickly, as if he’s running. Your indecision still renders you immobile. 

“Hold on a second. Did I… Did I do something to upset you?”

If you thought you were angry before, you’re surely seeing red now. How dare he. 

Spinning around, you only hope you sound as outraged as you feel. “Is that supposed to be some kind of joke?”

“What? No.” His brow furrows. “I mean, I know our schools are technically rivals and all, but we haven’t really seen each other in years.”

“Right, because you’ve been so sunny and welcoming since I joined the group.” And because the last time we saw each other ended on such great terms.

“I was giving you space. You practically bolted like a scared cat when you saw it was me.” He runs a hand through his hair. You hate the way it falls perfectly back into place. And you hate the way he looks so good doing it. “But clearly you’ve got something against me.”

The audacity, the sheer, utter audacity. There’s no trace of humor when you say, “You’re hilarious, really.” And there’s no room for debate when you turn away from him again, continuing to walk towards your car. 

“Wait,” he tries, but it falls on deaf ears. “God, ___, would you just hold on for a second, I—”

You turn. To do what, you’re not entirely sure. But before you can decide, the grip he has on his car keys loosens, the fingers of his right hand less dexterous than usual thanks to his arm brace. He still has his reflexes though. With his other hand, he manages to stop them from falling completely. 

“Better take care of that.” You jerk your chin to where he awkwardly fumbles with his keyring, trying to find a better grip. “Wouldn’t want to drop those too.”

His gaze snaps to you, eyes wide, mouth slightly slackened. The keys fall from his grasp, metal clinking delicately on the pavement. A million questions swim across his features, none of which you’ll give the grace of answering. 

Instead, you turn around once more. You make it all the way to your car, all the way out of the parking lot, all the way home. 

And he never says your name once. 

…

The following Tuesday, you are the last one of the group to arrive. And while you would usually never pass up the opportunity to best Sunghoon at anything, including being the latest arrival, competition is not the reason for your tardiness. 

It’s avoidance. That, and the fact that you had to spend eleven minutes giving yourself a pep talk in the car before you could work up the nerve to approach the front doors of the clinic. In the end, it’s a glance down at the boot on your left foot that does it. You’ve let Sunghoon ruin your chance at a gold medal once, and you’ll be damned if you let him do it again. 

Besides, your last visit with Dr. Min was a good one. Your ankle hasn’t healed quite as much as Dr. Kim suspected, but progress is progress, and you’re making plenty of it, according to your most recent x-rays. 

You enter the session with an apology for Dr. Kim and concentrated efforts to not let your gaze wander to the back corner of the room as you make your way over to where Jake and Jungwon sit. Starting your stretches, you assume Niki is over with Sunghoon, but you can’t work up the nerve to confirm that. 

Despite her initial annoyance at your tardiness, Dr. Kim is equally pleased at your latest x-ray results and gives you the green light to switch out the resistance bands you’ve been using for the next level up. Just as you’re reaching for the set of red bands on the shelf next to the treadmills, a set of obnoxiously smooth hands gets there first. 

Turning to Sunghoon with narrowed eyes, you grab the end of the band set he just snatched out from under you, eyes ablaze. 

The little fucker has the gall to roll his eyes. “What are you doing?”

You yank on the band. He doesn’t even flinch, grip steady. “I’m trying to follow Dr. Kim’s instructions,” you inform, tone flat. 

This time when you yank again, he yanks back. Much to your annoyance, he’s able to exert enough force to have you stumbling forward. “You’re trying to provoke me.”

“And it’s working,” Niki whispers to Jake and Jungwon in the back corner of the room. Dr. Kim just shakes her head. 

“Just take the green bands,” Sunghoon suggests. 

“They don’t have enough resistance. I need these ones,” you argue. “Why don’t you take the green ones?”

“Pretty sure if one of us takes the lighter bands, it should be you.” Sunghoon tightens his grip. “Or are you seriously trying to claim that you’re stronger than me right now?”

“I’m using them for my legs, you absolute jackass. Which are definitely stronger than your forearms.”

Sunghoon cocks a brow. “Should we put money on it?”

“You are such a dick. Dr. Kim literally—”

“Has another set of red bands,” the woman in question interrupts. She levels the two of you with an exasperated look as she holds them out in front of her. “There’s another set of every color on the equipment shelf next to the door.”

“Oh, right,” you nod, pulling back a little on your end of the band before you release it, just to hear the small cry Sunghoon lets out when it snaps against the skin of his good wrist. “Thanks.”

And the satisfaction that comes from completing your usual number of reps with a higher resistance is almost as gratifying as when you see Sunghoon rubbing at the still reddened skin on his left wrist as you pack up to leave for the day. 

“Those two are gonna kill each other,” Jungwon tells Jake and Niki as the three of them walk to their cars, brow creasing in concern. 

“Or something,” Jake agrees. 

Niki hoists his bag up on his shoulder. “My money’s on ___.”

A contemplative look passes between Jake and Jungwon before they nod in unison, “Yeah.”

…

You’re in the middle of passing a medicine ball back and forth with Jake the following week when he asks, “Are your school’s finals next week too?”

And although it’s hard to believe, first semester is already drawing to an end as the days get shorter and assignments get longer. 

“Yeah,” you nod. “I’m up to my ass in essays right now.”

“Same,” Jake agrees. “Sometimes it makes me wonder how I do it when I’m training, too.” Although you agree, a pang of jealousy is the only thing his words inspire. Of the skaters on your team that are preparing to compete as you speak. That have already choreographed their routines and selected their music and are spending every waking moment perfecting each and every detail of their program. 

It’s hard. It’s brutal. You’d be the first to admit that. But you miss it all the same, so much it hurts. 

A moment passes before he continues. “Well, anyway, Jungwon, Niki, and I were thinking that since none of us are training right now, we should celebrate the end of the semester like everyone else does.”

You arch a brow. “You’re gonna have to be more specific than that.”

“Right, sorry,” he apologizes. “Consider this your formal invitation to get absolutely shitfaced with us next Friday.”

The laugh that bubbles in your throat is so unexpected you can’t quite bite it back. While you have your fair share of good, old-fashioned fun, he’s right. Every other semester, you’ve celebrated the end of finals season with a cup of hot tea and an early night in bed. Traded one source of stress for another as you woke up bright and early the next day to hit the ice. 

You send him a smile, tossing the medicine ball back in his direction. “Count me in.”

…

The following Friday night finds you double-checking the address on your phone before tentatively knocking on the front door of what you hope is Jake’s apartment. In the middle of the university district across the city from your own, you can’t say you’re familiar with any of the buildings outside of the athletic complex, which you’ve only ever visited for a handful of competitions. It strikes you then that this is also the university Sunghoon attends. And, stomach dropping, that you never actually asked who all would be attending tonight.

Before you have the chance to spin on your heel and high-tail it down the stairs you just climbed, the door swings open. It’s not Jake. 

“Oh,” you mumble. The boy who opened the door is not Jake, but he is very much attractive. “Sorry. I’m looking for Jake Sim’s apartment.” Your voice turns up at the end like a question. 

“You’re in the right place,” he smiles, and it’s gorgeous. “I’m Heeseung, Jake’s roommate. You must be ___.” He opens the door wider, allowing you space. “Come on in.”

“That’s me.” You offer him a grateful smile as you enter, hanging your coat and sliding your shoes off. 

The interior is surprisingly sophisticated, for a college boy’s apartment. It’s clean, for starters, and as you follow Heeseung down the hallway towards the kitchen, you can’t help but be impressed by their choice in decor. 

“Help yourself to anything.” Heeseung gestures to the impressive spread of snacks on the table. “But first, can I get you something to drink?”

“Um…” Your lack of alcohol-related knowledge is apparent, and the uncertainty must be obvious, because Heeseung just smiles again. 

“I’ve got you.” There’s an undertone of something in his words. Something playful, something bordering on flirty. But it’s too subtle to tell for sure, and you’re not one to bet on losing odds. He reaches for a glass and a handful of ice cubes. “Do you like fruity flavors?”

“Yeah,” you nod. “That sounds good.” Besides, it’s been a minute since you’ve been well and truly flirted with at a college party by a boy that looks like he could spell trouble in his sleep. This could be fun, you think.  

Glancing towards the adjacent living room, you notice the usual familiar faces. Jake and Niki are sitting on the couch while Jungwon chats with a boy you don’t recognize. Eyes tracing the perimeter, you feel your shoulders tense when they land on a familiar silhouette. Sunghoon has his back to you, but his identity is just as unmistakable as it was on your first day of physical therapy. Like Jungwon, he’s talking to another person you don’t know. 

Oh, well. It’s too late to back out now and too early to make an exit. If you and Sunghoon can coexist in a room once a week without starting too many fires, you’re sure you’ll manage to get through tonight just fine. 

Heeseung hands you a full glass. It’s cold where it meets your fingertips. 

“Should we join them?” He inclines his head toward the living room and you nod. 

Following in his footsteps, you wave a quick greeting to Jake before taking a seat next to Heeseung, enough space between you and Sunghoon for you to relax slightly.

“How do you and Jake know each other?” You ask, searching for something to fill the silence, to keep the conversation flowing. “Do you play soccer together?”

Heeseung shakes his head. “No, we’ve been friends since elementary school. But I am on the basketball team, which helps. I feel like student athletes just kind of get each other, you know?”

You do know, and you tell him as much. The crazy schedule, the unwavering commitment. It’s much easier to explain to someone that’s living through the exact same thing. 

“Speaking of which, you’re a figure skater, right? For the university across town.”

You arch a brow. “I’m surprised Jake told you so much about me.”

“Not nearly enough,” he flirts, and this time it’s blatant. 

You take another sip of your drink with upturned lips, weighing a response on your tongue. Before you can decide how many cards you’d like to show, you make eye contact across the room with the one person you were hoping to avoid. 

Sunghoon looks equally—scratch that—even more displeased to see you. Jawline so taught you could cut your finger on it and lips drawn in a straight line, he’s pissed where he locks eyes with you from his seat. Sunghoon is the one to avert his eyes first. Throwing back whatever’s in his cup, he slices through the moment of tension with a knife. 

If Heeseung notices the way your breath splutters, he doesn’t comment. Thankfully, Jungwon chooses the next moment to say his hellos and introduce you to the boys you hadn’t recognized earlier. 

“Sunoo,” he nods towards the boy he’d been sitting with earlier, who offers a friendly greeting. “And that’s Jay, over by Sunghoon. And you’ve already met Heeseung.”

“And you all go to school here?”

“Yeah,” Jungwon nods. “Jay and I live together, and Sunoo is Niki’s roommate.”

“You’re deep in enemy territory,” Heeseung elbows you lightly, teasing. “What are we gonna do with you?”

You lift your now empty glass towards him, grinning. “Get me another drink, hopefully.”

Sending you a wink, he takes the glass from your outstretched hand before standing from the couch. “On it.” You watch his back retreat into the kitchen, oblivious of the second one that follows it a handful of moments later. 

Jay, as it turns out, is not an athlete, but does play guitar for a local  band your friend has been raving to you about for ages. He’s already promising you two sets of complimentary tickets to every one of their upcoming shows by the time you realize Heeseung’s been gone for a while. Too long. 

Excusing yourself, you head toward the kitchen. And it’s just your luck that you find the person you’ve spent the evening avoiding, instead of the one you’re searching for. Even with the buzz of your first drink fading rapidly, your inhibitions are feeling low. 

Sunghoon barely has the chance to register your presence before you’re laying out accusations. 

“I know you don’t like me, but do you really have to spend the whole night glaring at me like that? In front of everyone?”

Sunghoon’s shoulders tense, a confirmation that he hears you, but he says nothing. Instead, he just swallows the remainder of his drink in one large gulp. His eyes are still flaring, and if you didn’t know any better, you’d think you did something to piss him off. 

But it’s just like him, to avoid conversations he doesn’t want to have with the end of another drink. To treat you like someone not even worthy of a response. You don’t know why you expected anything different. Scoffing, you notice the full drink sitting on the counter. Heeseung must have had the chance to refill it before disappearing. 

You move to step around Sunghoon and reach for it when he finally says, “I’m not glaring at you.”

The gaze you level him with is incredulous. “Do you think I’m stupid? I have eyes—”

“For all I know you are stupid!” Sunghoon sighs, drags an open palm down the length of his face. “I mean, are you really gonna let some guy you just met pour your drinks all night?”

“Heeseung?” You’re confused why all of his rage seems to be directed towards something so insignificant. “He’s Jake’s roommate”

“And a complete stranger to you.”

It’s infuriating, the way he assumes his opinion should hold any weight in your life. The way he thinks he has any say in your decisions. “So should I avoid all the food now too?” You’re being petty now for the sake of it. “I mean, since you’ve been in here unsupervised for quite a while now.” You take another step towards your drink and he moves, blocking your path with his body. 

When you look up, you find his eyes already trained on you, and there’s no ice in them now. Just pure, unadulterated heat. Fire. Flames that lick the base of your spine. “You’re so fucking agitating, you know that?”

“I’m agitating?” You take another step forward, hoping the proximity will force him away. It doesn’t. If anything, he leans into it. Into you. 

You reach for the drink again. This time, he stops you himself. Fingers of his unrestricted hand wrapping around your wrist.

“Yeah.” His words are low, voice a caress even as it drips venom. You feel his breath ghost across your cheekbone. “Real fucking agitating.”

Your eyes are still locked on his, and you search them for a hint of something coherent, something that makes sense. Every bone in your body drawn taught, it’s as if muscle memory reverts you to the last moment you were like this, the last moment he held you this close, body entwined with his own in a familiar embrace. Your wrist slackens in his grasp. 

Last time, he dropped you. Sent you scattering across ice until the only thing you could taste was the bitterness of defeat and the sharp sting of humiliation. 

Last time, he let you fall. 

You have no idea what he’ll do now. 

In the end, it’s the sound of approaching footsteps that has the two of you springing apart, your wrist falling from his grip. In the scramble, you remember your original target. 

Despite the long melted ice, this drink feels even cooler in your grip, a stark contrast to the simmering heat just beneath your skin. 

When Heeseung enters, he’s tucking his phone into his pocket with an apologetic look. “Sorry, I had to take a call. My brother gets chatty at the worst times.” Nodding to your hand, he smiles, “You found your drink.” 

“Yeah, I did.” You take a step closer to the living room, closer to Heeseung. Further from Sunghoon. 

Glancing between the two of you, there’s a hint of uncertainty when Heeseung asks if you want to rejoin the others in the living room. 

You put his worries to ease and your questions to rest when you agree easily, not even bothering to give Sunghoon a second thought. 

You do seek his gaze one last time, though, before you follow Heeseung back to the party. Looking directly at him, you raise your glass in a mock toast. Without breaking eye contact, you bring the cup to your lips, swallowing half the drink in one long sip. When you do finally turn away, it’s to find the empty seat next to Heeseung. 

The rest of the evening passes in a pleasant blur, trading stories and laughs with the people around you while Heeseung keeps the seat at your side warm. Sunghoon does you the favor of disappearing from sight after your stand off in the kitchen.

It’s easy to relax into the company of everyone else, so much so that you don’t see Sunoo until you’re running right into him, the contents of his cup saturating the front of your shirt. 

It’s a problem Heeseung is quick to solve, and the gray hoodie he offers you is cozier than any of your own with a scent that’s almost addicting. 

He’s sweet, you think. Sweet and charming and forward in all of the right ways. It’s solidified when he offers to join you on the porch when you tell him you’re stepping outside for some fresh air. It’s cemented when he accepts your refusal with nothing but a smile and the request that you “come back quick.”

Stepping outside, it takes you a moment to realize that you’re not alone. It would appear that your earlier assumption that Sunghoon must have gone back to his place was wrong. There’s no drink in his hand, but the way he sways with the gentle midnight breeze makes you think he’s still working through everything he downed earlier. 

Silently, you glance up at the cloudless night sky, at the way the stars seem to wrap around you. Gaze returning to Sunghoon’s back, you suppose the simplest course of action would be to leave before he realizes you’re here. You turn to do just that, to make good on your promise to Heesung, when the sound of your name stops you in your tracks. 

Or at least, you think that’s what he says. It’s hard to tell, with the way his syllables and sounds slur together. Turning back towards him, you find him already looking at you. He repeats your name, and this time around, it’s a bit clearer. 

His eyes trace a downward line from your face to your change in clothes. Something in his face crumples, withers. 

“‘M sorry,” he slurs, words not lining up quite right through the inebriation. 

“What?”

“That day.” The sudden onset of sincerity in his tone makes him seem more sober than he is. “I should have caught you.”

The stars in the sky suddenly don’t seem so far away. You must have heard him wrong. A crease forms between your eyebrows, eyes scanning over his features. They’re laid open in their honesty, no trace of deception. 

“I wanted to catch you. I tried to.” He sighs. “Was my fault.”

“I…” You search for words, for the vindication you’d always imagined you’d feel at his admission. In its absence, you find only confusion and an odd pang of regret. “What?”

“I’m sorry,” he repeats. 

“Sorry for what? Why are you bringing that up?”

He just shakes his head, eyes falling to his feet. 

“I’m sorry,” he says again. Like a broken record. His pain is wrapped up in there too, trapped in a loop time has never quite let it escape. 

When you return to the party, it’s with a jumbled excuse of needing to check on a pet cat you don’t have. 

In the haste of it all, you forget to so much as exchange numbers with Heeseung. But you do find the time to pull Jake aside on your way out the door, to make sure that he helps Sunghoon get home safe. 

…

The next morning greets you with a pounding headache and an unfamiliar hoodie draped over the back of your desk chair. It takes a moment of searching through hazy memories before recollection of that particular string of events finds you. 

With a sigh, you head out in search of water and Advil, sending Jake a quick message that you’ll stop by his apartment later to return Heeseung’s hoodie. 

Even a handful of hours later, you can’t decide if you hope Heeseung is home or not. It’s a Saturday afternoon after a long night, so you figure the odds are high. But you still can’t pinpoint whether that feeling in your gut is excitement or dread. 

In an effort to delay the inevitable, you take a detour before visiting Jake’s apartment again. Your rival university’s sports complex is just as nice as you remember it, large, pristine buildings that hold everything an athletics department could dream of. Fondly, you remember the first time you skated in this stadium, back in middle school. It had felt so big, then, so special, to be skating for such a large crowd. 

It felt even more special to be sharing the ice with someone who put dreams in your head and butterflies in your stomach. Still fairly new to pair skating, the two of you had put on a program with a less than favorable amount of deduction. 

But still. It was yours. It was special. It was shared. 

You wonder if he knew then, that one day he would be the reigning king of this very same rink. 

Probably, you think. Park Sunghoon never had the habit of letting things feel impossible. 

Looking down at the boot on your foot, you miss it, all of it, all at once. The late nights. The early mornings. The bruises and cuts and aching muscles. The determination after defeat. The elation after glory. The feeling of flying every time blade touches ice. 

The sign posted next to the stadium is an advertisement, a reminder, of the upcoming regional championships. There’s a pang of loss, a moment of grief, for your program that will have to wait for next year. 

But your x-rays are coming back better every time, and Dr. Kim is sure you’ll be back on the ice by the time spring comes. 

For the first time in a long time, you think it’ll be okay. You know you’ll be okay.  

In front of you, the stadium door opens, and you realize you’re standing right in front of the exit. 

“Sorry,” you mutter, quickly moving to get out of the way, but then you take a closer look. “Coach Kang?” you ask, just as she says your name with the same air of disbelief. 

It’s an odd feeling of synchronicity, to stumble into your childhood skating coach just as you’re reminiscing on the past. 

“It’s been so long,” she beams, pulling you in for a warm hug. “What are you doing here?”

“Just visiting a friend. What about you?”

“Coaches’ meeting,” she explains. “Trying to see if I can get some of my junior skaters in to watch a few practices before regionals.” Nudging you with her shoulder, she adds, “Speaking of which, how’s your program coming along? Are you getting excited?”

You shake your head. “I’m actually off the ice for this one.” Glancing down, you lift your booted foot in explanation. “Ankle fracture has me out for the rest of the season.”

“Oh, no.” Coach Kang places a consolatory hand on your shoulder. “I’m sorry. That has to be so hard.”

“It’s okay, actually.” You don’t know who’s more surprised, her at your admission, or you at the fact that you actually mean it. “Everything is healing up nicely, so I’m looking forward to an even better program next year.” 

“Well look at you, all grown up.” She smiles. “I can say that thirteen-year-old you would not have had such a good attitude about it. Honestly, I’m surprised a fracture was enough to stop you. You were always so stubborn about things. You and Sunghoon.” She lets out a short laugh as your shoulders tense at the mention of him. “I was just thinking about you two the other day, actually. We had a skater fracture his tailbone and argue until he was blue in the face that he still wanted to compete.” Shaking her head, she adds, “It reminded me of that time Sunghoon insisted on skating even though he’d just sprained his wrist.” She shakes her head again, releases a small laugh. “Never could keep you two off the ice.”

It all checks out, the stubbornness, the determination even when it was stupid. But you’re hung up on one detail. You’re sure you could list every one of Sunghoon’s skating injuries just as thoroughly as he could. But before the current one, you can’t recall any wrist injuries. “What? When did he sprain his wrist?” 

Coach Kang waves her hand flippantly, like the sinking feeling in your gut isn’t intensifying with every passing moment, like she isn’t about to confirm a realization you’re already dreading. “Oh, you remember. It was just a few days before nationals that one year.”

That one year. She skirts around it, for your sake probably. But you know exactly what she means, when she’s referring to. 

And suddenly, you’re falling through air again, plummeting towards ice as a hand makes a desperate attempt to catch you. As sheer will alone is no match for injury weakened bones and ligaments and muscles. As you’re sliding across frozen ground and he’s gripping his wrist with pain on his face and terror in his eyes. 

As your head spins, spots clouding your vision from the force of the impact. Before the world goes black, your eyes search for him. 

And in those last few moments of consciousness, you watch as his mouth moves to form words you can’t hear. 

“I’m sorry.”

…

Raising your fist, you pound at the door again. One, two, three times. At this rate, your knuckles will be bloody before you get a response. 

But before you can start your assault on the wood in front of you again, the door swings open slowly, revealing a familiar frame. 

“You absolute idiot.”

“Well hello to you too.” Rubbing at his eyes, you appear to have just woken him from a nap. If his head is feeling anything like yours was this morning, you almost feel sorry. 

But there are more pressing matters at hand. “Were you ever going to tell me?”

“That I’m an idiot? Probably not.”

“That you sprained your wrist three days before nationals? That you skated anyway? That you attempted to catch a person quite literally spinning through the air with a wrist injury?”

A beat of silence passes. 

And then another. 

Sunghoon suddenly looks wide awake. “Oh.”

“Yeah, oh. What the hell were you thinking?” There’s fire in your eyes, an anger that’s directed towards him but not in the ways he’s used to. 

He pauses for a moment, eyes searching your features for another beat. Finally, he sighs. “Would you have let me skate if I did?”

It’s not the answer you expect. And it’s just like him, to answer a question with one of his own. “I… what?”

“You heard me.” His eyes don’t leave yours. “Would you have let me get on the ice if you knew I was hurt?”

And what is it, him and his habit of asking ridiculous questions like they don’t have obvious answers. “What kind of question is that? Of course not. No one in their right mind would have let you do that program with a wrist sprain, much less your partner. And I love Coach Kang, but I’m about to file a negligence suit against her, because what the hell kind of—”

“Stop talking.”

“Excuse me?”

“Sorry,” he grimaces, and you’re still getting used to the way apologies sound on his lips. “That came out wrong. What I was trying to say was that you… Well, I… I mean…” He trails off for the third time, casts a tentative look at the way your eyebrows only raise higher and higher every time he stops a train of thought in its tracks. His gaze falls down, somewhere between your nose and chin. An exhale passes through parted lips. Something in his resolve slips. “Oh, fuck it.”

And then he’s kissing you. 

Lips against lips and hands in your hair. It’s messy and awkward, and you can’t quite get the timing right. 

Sunghoon pulls back a fraction of an inch, catching his breath and letting you do the same. 

“What are you doing?”

There’s heat in his eyes and fondness too, a soft sort of expression that only melts further every time he looks at you. But now there’s anxiety in the mix, a crippling fear that he’s misjudged everything entirely, done something horribly wrong. 

“I’m sorry.” Before today, you could count his apologies on one hand. Now, you’re running out of fingers. “Did you not want—”

This time, it’s you that pulls him down, hands lacing around the nape of his neck, exhaling a soft sigh against parted lips that sends his mind spinning. 

And it’s only the second time, but it’s already better. Already a natural rhythm that the two of you seem to fall into with a little more grace. 

The expanse of his door is cold against your back when Sunghoon finally pulls you into his apartment using his good hand, and he’s a quick study. Attempt number three is an even greater improvement as hands search for new skin to discover and things start to fall into place, one at a time. 

Reaching for Heeseung’s forgotten hoodie, Sunghoon breaks the kiss only to toss it somewhere outside your current plane of existence. In this moment, you exist only within the space the two of you occupy, everything else an afterthought. 

And you have the feeling attempt number four will be your best yet. 

…

epilogue

“Are you ever gonna join me or do I just have to stay out here looking stupid forever?”

You don’t even take a moment to consider. “The second one.”

“Come on,” Sunghoon pleads, skating back towards you where you remain planted firmly to the bench on the perimeter of the rink. He moves towards you with a grace that used to inspire a raging, stomping green monster of envy. Now, you just admire the way he cuts across the ice with the agility of a dancer. “It’s fun out here, I promise.”

Avoiding his gaze, you let your eyes fall to your feet instead. They’re already laced up in your favorite pair of skates, black boot all but forgotten since you had it removed at your last visit to Dr. Min’s office. Since he gave you the green light to return to the thing you love most. 

You had been ecstatic then. Brimming with so much extra energy Sunghoon had to physically intervene to prevent you from accidentally knocking over an elderly lady on your way out of the hospital. But now, with the opportunity you’ve been dreaming of for long, hard months at your fingertips, something in you hesitates. 

Sunghoon says your name, and suddenly he’s serious. “This is all you’ve been talking about for months.” Sliding down onto his knees in front of you, you’re suddenly at eye level. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” He casts a doubtful glance. “Really, I just…” It’s hard, to speak your fears into existence, to let them take flight. Even if the boy in front of you makes it a little easier. “What if it’s not what I imagined?”

It’s a million little worries wrapped up in one. What if your ankle isn’t the same? What if it’s never the same? What if you’re not as good as you were? What if you’re not good enough? 

Sunghoon hears them all, and puts them to rest with a smile, a gentle touch as he rests his forehead against yours. “You and that big brain. Always worrying about the wrong things.”

“Hey! I—”

“It won’t be what you imagined.” He draws back a few inches, and your eyes have nowhere to land but on his own. “It will be different. It will feel weird, and your legs will feel wobbly, your muscles will feel weak, and your ankle might give out.”

Your lips flatten into a thin line. “If you’re trying to make me feel better, you’re doing a terrible job.”

Sunghoon just pinches your cheeks together, forcing your lips to purse. “So you’ll show up. Over and over again. Every day until your skates start to feel like a second pair of feet and the ice starts to feel like home again. Until your ankle and your muscles and your stamina are all built back up, in a way that’s different from before but will feel familiar before you know it.” He presses a single, delicate kiss to the tip of your nose. “Until I’m dragging you off the ice instead of onto it, because your boyfriend needs attention and is feeling a little jealous of all the time you’re spending here instead of with him.”

You roll your eyes. “You’re so needy. It’s gross.”

Sunghoon only smiles. “Only for you.”

This time, when he gets back on his feet and extends a hand, you take it. You follow him onto the ice and headfirst towards your insecurities feeling a little bit like a newborn deer, a bike without its training wheels. 

He laughs when you stumble and brushes hair out of your face when you pout. 

After an hour, you’re already feeling more solid than before. After two, that feeling of flying is starting to return. 

It’s somewhere just before hour three when Sunghoon says, “Remember how I told you earlier that you’re worrying about the wrong things?”

“Yeah.” You drag the word out slowly, not liking the hint of deviousness in his sudden grin. 

“This is what I was talking about. Instead of worrying about getting back on the ice, you should be worrying about how long it will take you to be able to beat me on a lap around the rink.”

“You absolute asshole. I fractured my ankle!”

Already halfway around the rink, Sunghoon just laughs. 

…

outtake—five years ago. 

Sunghoon’s vision is blurry. It’s a terrible combination of things—the exhilaration of the spotlight, the pain in his wrist, the grief of an egregious error. The sudden onset of tears that sting in the corners of his eyes and fall without his permission. 

Despite all of it, he finds his way back to his dressing room. Choking back a sob, he reaches for the glass of water he’d left out earlier. It tastes acidic on his tongue, burns like regret on the way down. 

Stupid, he was so stupid. His hands tangle in his hair. He wants to pull it out. Wants to scream until his throat is raw and he can’t anymore. 

It was a terrible enough decision to gamble his own fate on an unhealed injury, but as the reality of the situation comes crashing down around him, he realizes he’s done something much worse. 

Eyes open, eyes closed. It doesn’t matter. All he can see is you, sprawled out on ice, limbs bent unnaturally, eyes dazed at the impact. 

The unexpected impact. Because you trusted him. You trusted him so much that of course you’d never considered what you would do if his hands failed, if his wrist gave out. If he decided to risk your program, your fate, you, all on a whim, on an inflated sense of self-importance and a lack of regard for the injury he was so certain he could power through. 

He couldn’t imagine it, three days ago. Telling you that he was injured, that he couldn’t skate the program. He couldn’t imagine watching as the features he bashfully considered so, painfully pretty twisted into disappointment. Into anger. 

So he turned his shame into resolve, into determination. One that allowed him to catch you with a fractured wrist in every practice run. Every time, except for the time that mattered. Biting back grimaces and cries of pain all for the fool’s hope of seeing you smile in a few days’ time, a gold medal around your neck. 

Instead, he got to see you spinning through the air, slipping through his fingers, landing with a sickening thud. He wants to ask what hospital they took you to, wants to ignore the pain in his wrist a little longer and run there himself, just to make sure that you’re okay.

But then he imagines the way you’ll look at him when you see him. The way all that disappointment and anger he’d wanted to avoid so desperately will surely be all you have to offer him. 

He understands. He does. He wouldn’t want to see him either. 

Turning away from the mirror, he tucks away his shame for the future. But that only leaves his gaze landing on the bouquet of flowers sitting on the table. The one he’d spent nearly an hour agonizing over, the one his mother had assured him a dozen times you would love. The one he made sure had all of your favorite colors. 

He snuck his own favorite in there too, in hopes of what exactly he can’t be sure, but he knows he likes the way they look together—your favorite color and the deep blue irises that represent his own. 

It seems so stupid now. After everything, after this, he can’t imagine you want his flowers, and even less his favorite color. He can’t imagine that you want anything to do with him. 

So he doesn’t seek you out. Not in the hospital that day, not when you’re cleared to practice and back on the ice again, not when chance has the two of you colliding five long years later. 

Not until he watches you walk away from him with all that anger and resentment and disappointment he’s been so avoiding for so long. Not until it strikes him in the face and he realizes that he can’t live with it, can’t let bygones be bygones and hope time and the absence of him in your life have healed you for the better when it still hurts to even look at you. 

On a dressing room table, five years in the past, a bouquet of flowers wilts. 

And Sunghoon learns that with love and patience and a little bit of sunlight, beautiful things, even the fragile ones, bloom when you water them. 

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

#recs ⁝ park sunghoon #park sunghoon ⁝ fics

[jaeyunwrld]

this is so insane. 1000 notes IS CRAZY. thank you so much what the hell😭😭 im dreaming theres jo way😭

enha hyung line when you go for another idol's fansign !

a/n. heavily inspired by that fansign of op asking members about what they'd allow their so to do 😊 (edit: wow this is blowing up so while im here, shameless promo!!! i have other text works on this acc and also a main that has even more works aka @jaeminri ‼️)

© JAEYUNWRLD, 2023

[jaeyunwrld]

breathing room — a lee heeseung drabble

2.5k / enemies to lovers

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

Lee Heeseung is having a hard time breathing.

Partly because he’s pretty sure he just got the wind knocked out of him. A little bit because of the year-old rib injury he had neither the time nor patience to let heal properly.

And mostly because there’s a blade being held to his throat.

Yours, to be exact.

It’s a nice one, all things considered. Despite its lethality, it’s small, delicate almost. From this angle, he can just make out the detailing on the hilt. A series of vines wrap around each other intricately, forming kaleidoscopic patterns that extend all the way from the blade to where your fingers are wrapped around the hilt, knuckles white from the way your hand is straining. 

Jesus, he thinks. If it takes that much concentrated effort for you to not let the knife press any harder against his skin, draw any blood, then maybe he should start taking the threats you throw his way like extra change a little more seriously. 

Lazily, he lets his eyes trace a line from your fingers to your face. Skipping over the rather boring details of the plain black training shirt you wear, he directs his attention to the way your brow furrows in concentration instead. 

Under usual circumstances, a knife to the throat would encourage all of his senses to narrow in on the sensation of metal against his pulse point. Would spur his brain to work a bit faster through all the biological fight or flight mechanisms in a last ditch attempt at survival. 

But these are not usual circumstances. In fact, ever since the two of you were split into separate training cohorts a handful of months ago, this has become a rarity. And the only thing Heeseung wants to do is enjoy it a little more. 

Without his self-preservation instincts kicking in, his brain has plenty of room for other things. The forgiving surface of a training mat beneath him, slightly soft where he lets his body relax into it. The unusually warm air of the training room, courtesy of a busted air conditioner that no one has gotten around to fixing just yet. 

The way your hair falls around your face as you lean over him, chest still heaving from your recent bout of exertion. Your eyes are pure fire, embers and ashes and every stage in between as you sit atop his ribcage, knees on either side of his torso where you pin him to the mat. 

But even as the lead trainer adds another tally underneath your name for another sparring match won, your gaze doesn’t soften. Doesn’t brighten in the afterglow of victory. After all, victory only tastes sweet when it’s earned. Judging by the way your lips twist above him, Heeseung thinks the victory he just handed you on a silver platter must be horribly bitter. 

Slowly, he raises his hands in mock surrender. There’s a half smile that looks a little too much like a smirk tugging at his lips when he says, “I concede.”

“No fucking shit.” You flick a strand of hair out of your face. Your knife presses a little tighter against his throat. “Did you even try?”

Heeseung maintains eye contact. “I think I’m doing us a both a favor by not answering that one.”

Narrowing your eyes, annoyance makes itself the most prominent of your visible emotions. “Interesting choice of words from someone with a knife to his throat.”

Heeseung all but rolls his eyes. “What are you gonna do? Kill me in front of everyone?” The way he wraps sarcasm up in every syllable is almost as infuriating as the way he just let you win without putting up any semblance of a fight. “You’ve got a mean streak, princess, but that’s a bit much, even for you.”

The pressure on your blade increases, and Heeseung fights a wince as he feels it break the barrier between his skin and blood. It’s a miniscule cut, surface level at most, but he hears the threat all the same. “It’s like you want to die,” you marvel. 

Heeseung’s eyes betray nothing, other than the fact that they can’t quite seem to stray from your own. Does he? No matter how deep inside himself he searches, the answer is always a resounding no. Despite the effort he put into this particular spar, or rather lack thereof, his survival instincts are still kicking. His pursuit of life is still alive and well. 

So no, he doesn’t want to die. Quite the opposite in fact. But if he were to explain in plain terms that he never feels quite as alive as he does in the moments when you’ve got a knife on his throat and hatred in your eyes, he has the distinct feeling you might well and truly make good on your frequent promise to send him to an early grave. 

And it’s not like he means to do it, not really. Heeseung might be a glutton for punishment these days, but there was a time when he tried to get your attention in all the regular ways. As he quickly found out, sweet words did nothing but make you roll your eyes and his skills on a sparring mat were only as impressive as they could be used to hone your own. 

He was a tool, in your eyes. A means to an end as you did your best to work your way up the ranks. 

You never looked at him, the person behind all the hand-to-hand combat training and advanced levels of weapon artistry. At least not until he started annoying the ever-living shit out of you. 

Back then, it had been easy. As new recruits, you were in the same training cohort, which meant you had the same daily schedules. As long as Heeseung had the chance to beat you to the last piece of toast in the dining hall at breakfast or tie the laces of your training boots together the night before an early morning, he was guaranteed at least one of your signature glares and a few choice words that would make his grandmother blush. 

Granted, he knows that one-sided hatred is not a very stable foundation to build anything solid on, but he thinks of it in the same way he thinks of sparring. 

He doesn’t need a knockout. He just needs an in. 

A little bit of breathing room. Something that will have his partner lowering their guard, weakening their defenses just enough for him to strike. Once. Twice. Again. Over and over until the match is won and victory rests on his square shoulders. 

Heeseung’s in this for the long haul, and he’s come to find that he doesn’t really care how many bruises he picks up along the way. 

Across the room, the lead trainer heaves a long sigh. 

“Alright, ___, that’s enough. You’ve earned your tally.” The most of anyone in today’s group. But you’re still glaring at him, and he knows it isn’t enough, not for you. “Heeseung, get it together. I expect better from you next time.”

You scoff. “Don’t hold your breath.” 

Expectations are only met when people are held to them, and you doubt Lee Heeseung has even become acquainted with the concept of a consequence. 

Releasing one final, sharp exhale, you pull your knife away from his throat, tucking it back into the sheath on your upper thigh in one fluid motion. Swinging your leg over his torso, you remove your body from his own, give your anger some space to breathe. Without looking back, you let your strides eat up the distance between you and the exit. 

Someone – you think it must be Jay, or maybe Jungwon, tries to catch your attention on the way out, asking about a maneuver you pulled in the middle of the match. A tricky bit of knife work you’ve been perfecting over the last few weeks. Something that looked stupid as Heeseung did nothing but stand there, as if your blade was nothing but decorative. Made you look stupid as he stood and watched with nothing but a mildly amused expression on his face. 

You hate him for it. Want to show him just how pretty your knife can be stained with the deep crimson he must bleed as surely as anyone else. 

Lips pulled in a taut line, you unsheath the blade at your thigh once again, this time sending it spinning with deadly accuracy towards the line of trees that skirt the outside of the training facility. 

You don’t miss. You never do. 

It still feels like defeat. 

…..

Heeseung notices when you’re not at dinner later that evening. Despite the fact that you no longer train together, the inter-cohort spars have shifted this week's schedule. You should be here, sitting next to Jay and Jungwon, probably, pointedly avoiding his gaze. 

But you’re not. And he can only think of one other place to find you. 

The training hall is dark when he arrives, but Heeseung is no fool. It takes a moment for his eyes to adjust, but he sees you soon enough. Silhouette dark against the empty expanse, he has half a mind to intervene before you shred yet another punching bag to irreparable pieces. Instead, he just watches for a moment longer. He doesn’t know what to do with the feelings that start to simmer, that always linger. Doesn’t know if it’s admiration or longing or something far worse. But he wants to. Wants to examine them until he knows them as intimately as the back of his own hand, until he can recite them by name and express them in ways that don’t make you want to press a knife against his neck. 

And he wants to keep watching, keep looking, keep noticing. 

Even from a distance, even in the dark, he can read the frustration in the set of your shoulders, sense the exhaustion in the way your legs move just behind the rest of your body. 

You need a break. 

He needs an in. 

Across the room from you, Heeseung clears his throat. 

Startled, you nearly fall on your ass mid-kick before you turn to the source. It’s dark, but you know it’s him. Who else would it be? 

Chest rising and falling rapidly with exertion, you finally catch your breath well enough to tell him, “If you’re not here for a rematch, then you have exactly ten seconds to get out of this building.”

A beat passes. 

Another. 

Heeseung exhales. “And if I am?”

Bathed in the dying glow of moonlight, you go still. “Then you better put in your best fucking effort.”

Heeseung is across the room before you can release another breath. It’s ridiculous how quickly he disarms you. And you’re caught off guard, yes, but it doesn’t matter, not really. Your knife in his hands, he throws it to the corner of the room. And then it’s just the two of you. 

Heeseung spares neither time nor effort knocking your legs out from under you, sending you careening towards the mat. Screwing your eyes shut, you brace for the impact of a training mat that never comes, the back of your head cradled in a hand that serves as a barrier between you and the ground below. 

It’s a complete reversal of your earlier roles as he lets his legs fall to either side of you, face inches from your own. There’s no knife on your neck, and he was gracious enough to break your fall, but suddenly find your breath a difficult thing to catch regardless. 

Above you, his eyes are dark. Your noses nearly touch. “This is what you wanted?” he breathes, and you feel his words as much as you hear them. They dance across your cheekbone, your lips. Have your bones feeling molten, all your hard edges malleable. “You want me to fight you like I mean it? To really fucking spar with you?”

You’ve rehearsed your answer too long to deviate, even as your mind screams with sudden uncertainties. “Yes.”

Heeseung doesn’t spare it a second thought. “Too bad.”

“Why? You have no problem f–”

“I was there, you know.” Unbidden, the hand that doesn’t hold your head falls to the bottom edge of your black training shirt. Heeseung pauses there for a moment, lets his fingers trace the seam. Something in the air shifts, tightens, waits. Despite the way he has you caged, your hands are unbound. You could stop this, if you wanted to. Stop him. 

You don’t. 

Slowly, his hand begins to track an upward journey, taking your hem with it. The air of the room is warm, choked with summer heat and the odd sensations that simmer just beneath your skin, but you suppress a shiver anyway  as a sliver of skin is revealed. 

You know what he’s after, where his eyes fall to. It’s his fingers that hesitate. Dangle with uncertainty a hair's breadth from the scar that sits just above your hip bone. 

Heeseung inhales, eyes returning to your own for a moment. They’re searching for permission you won’t give and boundaries you won’t set. If he wants to walk this tightrope, he’ll have to navigate on his own. 

It’s a challenge he rises to. On his breath out, Heeseung lets his fingers find a home on the bare skin of your stomach, trace the jagged line that’s a shade paler than the surrounding area. 

It’s a scar you hardly think of, one you can’t believe he remembers. Gifted to you in your early days of training, when a fellow recruit thought the best way to better his ranking was to discard the strict sparring rules set by your superiors and draw blood as a last ditch attempt at victory.

You’d still won, even with a fresh stab wound on your lower abdomen. And he’d been shown the door, like all recruits that break protocol. 

“So what?” Your voice doesn’t come out nearly as biting as you intend it to. You curse the waver in your words. “I get one scar and suddenly I’m delicate?” 

Heeseung glances up, something sincere in his eyes when he matches your gaze. His hand is still on your skin. “We’re all delicate. And we all have the scars to prove it. I’ve just developed a particular… aversion to seeing evidence of it when it comes to you.”

You’re quick to school your features into neutrality. At least on the outside, you won’t give him the satisfaction of catching you off guard. “That sounds like a you problem.”

“Apparently not,” Heeseung counters. “Since I’m not the one begging for a fight.” He holds your gaze when he adds, “And I have to say, princess, if you wanted me to put you on your back, there are much easier ways to ask.”

It’s as if you’ve been submerged in hot water, as if you’ve been burned, when you push him off of you with a speed that’s almost comical. And from the way heat rises in your cheeks, you just might have been. 

Your voice is dangerously low when you tell him, “You have three seconds.”

“Until what?” Heeseung knows better than to be hopeful. 

“Until I find my knife and put it to good use.”

Heeseung doesn’t need to be told twice.

#recs ⁝ lee heeseung #lee heeseung ⁝ fics

[jaeyunwrld]

my god. thank you sm for 800 notes. this is crazy :( i never thought so many people would enjoy this !!!!!!!

enha hyung line when you go for another idol's fansign !

a/n. heavily inspired by that fansign of op asking members about what they'd allow their so to do 😊 (edit: wow this is blowing up so while im here, shameless promo!!! i have other text works on this acc and also a main that has even more works aka @jaeminri ‼️)

© JAEYUNWRLD, 2023

[jaeyunwrld]

damn. thank u for blowing this up guys :( i have not received this much love b4 on here.....

enha hyung line when you go for another idol's fansign !

a/n. heavily inspired by that fansign of op asking members about what they'd allow their so to do 😊

© JAEYUNWRLD, 2023

[jaeyunwrld]

❛ 𝒊 𝒎𝒊𝒔𝒔 𝒚𝒐𝒖 ❜ — PSH

SUMMARY. Sunghoon doesn’t realise just how much he craves — how much he needs — your presence until it’s no longer there.

pairing. park sunghoon x fem!reader

genre. angst with comfort, fluff, one shot, friends to lovers

word count. ~ 4-5k

notes. inspired by this prompt here 🤩🤩 i’m so sorry it took so long to do i totally forgot about it 😭 BUT here is the friends to lovers with sunghoon 😮‍💨. ( gif divider by @cafekitsune )

𖤐 𓈒࣪ ᭡ ˖ one. 𝙞 𝙢𝙚𝙚𝙩 𝙮𝙤𝙪 . . . 𖦹︎ ִֶָ ࣪ ៹

“SORRY, EXCUSE ME! COMING THROUGH!”

You stumbled across the ice rink like a newborn fawn, following no clear path, relying solely on your waving arms to keep you upright. Skaters passing by gave you a wide berth as you sped forward. Children watched as you flew by. 

You should have expected that you’d eventually ram straight into someone. You just weren’t expecting it to be him of all people.

“Ow...” you winced as you lifted your back off the ice. When you spotted a boy across from you, you gasped and immediately got up (or, at least, as fast as you could with your level of skill, anyway). “Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry! Are you okay?”

The boy barely looked affected, as if he was used to the sensation of falling. “I’m fine,” he responded quietly, before standing. It was like he didn’t just have a fully-grown teenaged girl slam into him.

It was that moment you got a good look at his face.

Park Sunghoon, the so-called ‘Ice Prince’ of Hybe High. 

He had a… reputation, one could say. With a face that seemed carved from marble and an aura that left one guessing, it was no wonder why he had so many girls pining after him. Paired with his status as an accomplished athlete—a figure skater at that—it didn’t take a genius to know how he had earned his title.

Except, things weren’t usual all that simple, were they?

Park Sunghoon was an ‘Ice Prince’ in every definition of the word: not only did he reign supreme on the rink, he also had a knack for driving people away with his cold stare and even colder tone of voice. (Or so, the rumours went.)

It was just your luck, you supposed, that you had to bump into him.

He won’t be mad, would he? You fretted. 

But to your surprise, he was just the opposite.

Instead of telling you to “Get lost” (okay, you had to admit you only had your mangas to blame for this expectation) or to “Watch where you’re going” (again— the mangas), he actually held out a hand to you.

“Are you okay?”

In that moment, you were glad you were on the ground, because there was no way you like stay upright if Park Sunghoon looked at you the way he was now while standing.

You were already hyper aware of his physical attractiveness after seeing him from school. But those minor glimpses you’d get of him during class (when he wasn’t absent for figure skating training) or from across the hall did no justice to his face up close.

As he looked down at you, eyes full of concern, and a ray of light shining down on him, you couldn’t tell if he was real or—as cliche as it sounded—an Angel from above.

Oh, have mercy on my soul, you thought. You hesitantly reached out to accept his outstretched hand— and, wow, how was it that his hands were just as beautiful as his face?

As he gently lifted you from the floor—no, really, he had basically pulled you up with his strength alone—you felt your cheeks heat up, despite the cold of your surroundings.

“Are you okay?” he asked, his tone of voice nothing like what you’d heard from your gossiping classmates.

“Yeah, I’m okay!” you squeaked.

In your embarrassment, you quickly tried to pull your hand away from his. But just as you did, you faltered and almost planted on your butt… again. Out of reflex, you immediately reached out to the closest thing to you.

And of course, at that moment, the closest thing happened to be one Park Sunghoon.

You didn’t know what was more surprising: that he actually let you hold on to him, or the fact that he put an arm around your waist to stabilise you. Just like that, the two of you remained staring at each other. The world around you was full of movement and chaos, but in that moment everything came to a stand still.

You felt heat bloom in your cheeks.  

That’s it, you thought. I’m dead. He’s killed me.

Sunghoon’s ears started to redden at the tips as you continued to stare at each other. After a moment, he awkwardly removed his arm—though not too fast that you would topple down—and scratched the back of his neck.

“Ah…” Sunghoon chuckled shyly. “Sorry about that.”

He offered you a smile.

His resting face was a sight in itself. But the sight of his smile, the small dimple that it revealed, and small fangs that peeled out from his mouth, had your heart spiralling out of control. If your classmates saw him now, there was no way they could call him cold. (And no way they would be able to resist him.)

“I should be the one apologising…” you giggled. “Or rather, I should be thanking you, I guess— you saved me from potentially embarrassing myself more than I already have. I guess skating isn’t really my thing.”

Before Sunghoon could say anything you smiled at him. “But you’re really good. I’ve seen you quite a few times.”

It was about a month ago: your younger sibling decided that they wanted to take up ice hockey, and joined the local club. Since your parents were busy during some of their practices, you ended up chaperoning them. Simple enough, but boring.

Until you witnessed something magical.

You happened to look over to the side, just in time to catch a skater launch into the air. You watched in awe as the skater spun mid-air, before landing elegantly in the ice below— leg extended backwards, gliding like a swan across a lake.

You were definitely oversharing at this point, but you had already shared an awkward moment together. What was another on top of it?

You were half expecting Sunghoon to seem weirded out by your confession. But in fact, he didn’t seem surprised at all.

“I know,” he replied. 

You blinked at him. “Sorry?”

As it turned out, you weren’t as slick as you thought.

Apparently, Sunghoon had known for a while no that you were an avid fan of his, and knew who you were as a result. But you couldn’t really find it in you to complain, seeing as it brought you closer to the boy. Who would have known that you would end up drinking hot chocolate with the Ice Prince Park Sunghoon as if you were best buddies.

“You know, it’s kind of funny how this is our first time talking despite knowing each other for so long.”

You had been attending the same school together for a year, and had quite a few classes together. But you’d never even uttered a hello to each other before. Now, here you were.

Sunghoon chuckled shyly. You decided right then and there that you would never grow tired of seeing his smile—the dimples, fangs, and all.

“I’m not a very social person,” he admitted, looking down at his lap. His ears were flushed red, his fingers tapping against the styrofoam cup that held his hot chocolate. “I’ve never been good at making friends… especially with girls.”

To say you were surprised at the confession was an understatement. There was no way you’d imagine that Park Sunghoon of all people—who people would say was as cold as the ice he skated on—was just… well, shy!

“Wow, really? That’s a surprise…” you took a sip from your hot chocolate.

Sunghoon hummed. “It probably would be to someone like you… You’re so social and you get along with everyone. You have so many friends…”

You raised your eyebrows. Were you dreaming or did Sunghoon say that with a twinge of envy? Him? Envy you? That was a completely foreign thought. (There was also the fact that he somehow observed you enough to know you were a social butterfly who got along with everyone— but that didn’t bother dwelling on that fact for too long.)

“Well, you’re not bad at making friends either,” you assured the boy, patting his shoulder. “I mean you managed to talk to me, right?”

Sunghoon blinked. “I guess you’re right...” He turned to you with a shy smile. “But you’re pretty easy to talk to, so that’s probably why.”

“So, you’re saying I don’t count, huh?” You asked teasingly.

Sunghoon shook his head. “No! That’s not what I meant…”

You laughed. “Don’t worry, I know what you mean.” You took another sip of your hot chocolate before looking at him. “In that case, why don’t we just make it official?”

Sunghoon cocked his head in confusion. “What do you mean?”

You smiled.

“Let’s be friends.”

𖤐 𓈒࣪ ᭡ ˖ two. 𝙞 𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙨𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪 . . . 𖦹︎ ִֶָ ࣪ ៹

ONE DAY, IN A STRETCH OF BOREDOM, YOU QUICKLY PULL OUT YOUR PHONE TO SEARCH FOR SUNGHOON’S CONTACT.

Perhaps you were coming off a little strong, considering you two have only been friends with each other a week by now. But you really couldn’t help yourself. Something about him was so endearing to you. Especially when he made that confession the

You flopped onto your bed and opened up your messages.

You: hey!!! how are you going?? hope you’re doing okay! You: but anyway! just wanted to see if you wanted to meet up before school tomorrow? 👀

You tilted your head. Does this seem too clingy?

You quickly added another text to the first one.

You: i thought it would be nice since we have class together

You bit your lip as you watched the screen, waiting for the typing bubbles to appear. When the ‘read’ notification popped up, you felt your heart quicken. But seconds turned into minutes and he still hadn’t said anything back.

You pouted. Did I use too many exclamation marks?

Dropped your phone, you turned to lie on your side. You just hoped you hadn’t come off as too familiar— after all, the last thing you wanted to do was hold the poor guy victim. You wondered if he thought you were strange…

But just as you were debating whether to send another text (‘Or not! It’s cool if you don’t want to!’), your phone pinged. You instantly sat up.

Ice Prince: no problem Ice Prince: sounds good

You stared. You blinked. Then you burst out laughing. 

He’s a bit of a dry texter, isn’t he? You thought. Now that, I saw coming.

If he were one of your long-time friends, you would have spammed him with random questions. (As the extrovert of your group, you usually found yourself carrying the conversations.) But, seeing as you’ve only really known him for a few days, you decided to have mercy on him.

Until you would eventually fill his world with chaos.

You: yay!! see you then!! ☺️ You: oh and goodnight by the way!

You smiled when you saw his reply.

Ice Prince: See you Ice Prince: Goodnight

You giggled to yourself as you closed your messages with Sunghoon and began to text your other friends. At that moment, you had another goal to add on to your list of things to do.

Mark my words, Park Sunghoon! you thought to yourself resolutely. One day, I will get you to use an emoji!

You greeted the next morning like a new friend.

You had nothing but good dreams the night before. And now, you were properly rested for a day of school—and, of course, hanging out with your new friend Sunghoon! If your parents noticed anything about your chipper mood, they didn’t say anything. But regardless of their odd looks, you didn’t care.

Nothing was going to bring you down from cloud nine.

You hummed as you grabbed your phone off the bench, bidding your family goodbye as you rushed out the door. Just then, you got a notification.

Ice Prince: I’ll be at the benches behind X block

You smiled as you flicked back a text.

You: okey!! I’m on my way to school now! so see you soon! ☺️

With that you skipped away. You couldn’t think of any other day where you had been so excited to go to school—if there ever was one, to begin with. You found yourself enjoying every little thing around, not taking it for granted: the buzz of the morning rush, the feeling of sunlight on your skin, the sight of freshly fallen flowers lining your path.

Today was such a good day. And it only got better when you caught a glimpse of a certain someone from a far.

How does he look so good just sitting there? you wondered.

You observed the way the sunlight managed to reflect off of him at just the right angles to illuminate his features and the wind gently brushed through his locks in a way you suddenly wanted to try for yourself. It seemed some people were just born to be loved by nature. And Park Sunghoon was one of them.

When you finally managed to shake yourself from your reverie, you bounced up to the boy, who didn’t seem to feel your eyes on him. (You supposed he was used to the sensation.)

Feeling mischievous you decided to approach him from behind. Taking quiet steps, you felt yourself smile as you got closer. Then, before he had the chance to realise your presence, you put your hands on his shoulders.

“Boo!”

Sunghoon jolted in his seat. He whipped around to face you, confusion over his features. Then—at the expense of your heart—his lips slowly curled into a smile.

“You’re here?” he said. “You could have just yelled out to me, you know?”

You giggled. “That’s not as fun!” Without waiting for an invitation, you plopped yourself down next to him. “So! What are we doing?” You tilted your head up to the sky to mimic the position he was sitting in before you disturbed him. “Are we cloud-gazing?”

“Huh?” Sunghoon blinked. He shook his head. “No. I was just thinking.”

You blinked back at him. The two of you blinked at each other, before you found yourself bursting into laughter. “Pfft—”

“You were ‘just thinking’?” you repeated with a smile.

Sunghoon nodded, causing you to laugh even more. “Why?” he asked, confused as to what it was he said that you found so funny. “What is it?”

“I mean, it’s just… who does this—” (You posed melodramatically, like a character on a movie poster.)  “—when they’re just thinking?”

“Ishhhh…” Sunghoon scrunched his nose, before standing up. His hands were balled into cute fists as he looked down at you. “Yah! How can you tease me like this? Huh?”

But his little ‘reprimand’ did nothing but make you giggle even more. For someone who was known as an ‘Ice Prince’, he had a lot of adorable habits.

“Okay, okay.” You patted him on the arm, trying your best to ignore how muscular they felt under your hand. “I know, so calm down now, yeah?”

Sunghoon sat down beside you, and the two of you enjoyed a moment of silence.

“By the way…”

You turned to face Sunghoon. “Yeah?”

You noticed that Sunghoon hadn’t lifted his head to look at you, instead lowering his head to hide the blush forming across his face. At that moment, your heart melted, endeared by the sight of him.

“I was thinking… did you want to walk home with me after school?”

Your eyes widened. But seconds later, you smiled.

“Sounds good!”

𖤐 𓈒࣪ ᭡ ˖ three. 𝙞 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪 . . . 𖦹︎ ִֶָ ࣪ ៹

TIME PASSED IN THE BLINK OF AN EYE. Days flew by, then weeks, and then a month. And during that time, you only grew closer to your friend Sunghoon. Sunghoon, who you could now barely remember what it was like before meeting him.

You never would have thought you’d be attached to the hip with the infamous ‘Ice Prince’, but here you were, walking among a crowd of eager-to-leave students, shoulders almost touching with how close you stood together.

You’d be lying if you said you didn’t feel a little slip of joy when Sunghoon had been the one to ask you first. And now, you two had made it a tradition of sorts to walk home together every day.

You hadn’t ever needed someone to walk you home before. But you would be a fool to turn down an offer from Sunghoon.

As such, you were planning to make the most of it.

“You got along with the others okay, didn’t you?” you asked, referring to the group of friends you had introduced to him today.

Sunghoon nodded with a smile. “Yeah. I even got Beomgyu’s number.”

You smiled cheerfully. At least it wasn’t Ning’s or Yunjin’s, you thought. You couldn’t really explain why, but you felt a little twist in your stomach at the thought of either of them (the only females, coincidentally) in his messages. It was an unwarranted feeling—one that you didn’t have any right to—but you couldn’t help it. 

Whatever it was, you would ponder it later. For now, you simply wanted to enjoy the scenery. Flower petals falling from the trees, twirling in the air as they fell gently to the ground, lining your path with pink omens of romance and love.

Ha, you thought, I think I’m getting delusional.

“I’m glad you got along well with them,” you said. “Look at you go— you’ve already gotten new friends with little to no effort required. You’re a lot more sociable than you think.”

Sunghoon looked at you with an unreadable expression. “Really?”

You nodded eagerly. “Of course!”

Sunghoon smiled gently. “You know, when I first met you, I thought you were kind of strange.”

You burst out laughing at the sudden admission. “Oh, really? And what about now?”

“Now?” Sunghoon hummed as if he was in deep thought. When he turned to you, there was a glint of mischief. “Now I realise… you really are pretty weird.”

You faked a scandalised gasp. Slapping the boy hard on the shoulder, watching as he started to laugh at your reaction, you couldn’t help but giggle. If he was teasing you, that meant he considered you to be comfortable enough to joke around with. So, you couldn’t be too annoyed at him.

Especially when those dimples of his poked out. 

Gosh I really am weak, aren’t I? you thought.

“It takes one to know one, dummy,” you responded.

Sunghoon chuckled. “Then I guess we’ll be weird together.”

Your eyes softened. If, right then and there, someone were to say you had honey dripping from them, you would believe them. Otherwise, there was no explanation for how bright and golden the boy in front of you appeared at that moment.

“Sure,” you said. “Together.”

Yes two of you walked in a comfortable silence for a few moments after. But you had decided at that moment that you wanted to delay your parting— even if just by a little bit.

“You mentioned that you don’t have training tonight, right?” you asked Sunghoon. The male nodded in response. “Well, there’s an arcade nearby that just opened recently. Wanna check it out?”

Sunghoon smiled, his fangs peeking out as he did. “Sure.”

“Cool.” You then surprised Sunghoon by bolting off. “Race you there!”

“Aish—!”

You giggled as you heard the boy curse before taking off after you. You didn’t care how many looks you got on the way. The sound of your laughter mixing together as you raced down the pavement was music to your ears.

Your new favourite song by far.

That afternoon, you had spent all of your time laughing in the arcade, spending hours like they were nothing but minutes, living solely in that moment. After several games against each other, you two found yourself before the claw machine, counting the last few of your tokens.

“Ahhhh!” You groaned in frustration when you missed the cat plushie you had your eyes set on for the last five minutes. “I just needed to get a little bit to the right!”

Sunghoon chuckled from beside you, watching as you almost tore your hair out. You had only meant to spend one or two tokens on the plush, but after gradually getting closer with each try, you insisted that you “might as well go all the way”… only for you to get nowhere at all.

Now you were tokenless and left feeling like you wanted to smash open the machine.

You sighed as you turned to Sunghoon. “Looks like I’m done for today,” you said with a laugh. “What do you want to do? You still have a few tokens left.”

Sunghoon smiled. “Move.”

You blinked as he gently nudged you aside so that he could get to the claw machine controls, wordlessly slipping a token into the coin slot.

“Ayeeee,” you drawled out, crossing your arms over your chest. “Didn’t you see me before? It’s obviously rigged. You shouldn’t waste your tokens on this.”

But it was too late. Sunghoon was already starting to operate the machine, a smile on his face as he nudged the claw so that it hovered over a penguin plush. You immediately perked up.

You wanted the penguin plush at first, but after seeing how difficult it would be to retrieve it from the corner that was stuck in, you chose to play your cards smart and opt for the cat plush. But while the car plush was much easier to get based on its position, you still failed. So the fact that Sunghoon boldly went after your first option piqued your interest — if not a little ire.

You meant down to his eye level, your heads bumping together slightly as you watched the claw make countless turns to get an optimal angle.

“Someone’s confident.” 

Just as you said that, Sunghoon hit the button. You watched as the claw descended, taking the penguin plushie up in a pinch, before slowly making its way over to the dropping bay. 

Imagine your surprise when the penguin made it all the way.

You gaped as Sunghoon retrieved his newly retrieved plush from the tray, before fluffing it right in front of your face.

“Wha— but how?” You stuttered out. “No way…”

Sunghoon simply laughed, his dimples poking out from the force of his smile.

“Confidence,” he replied.

You remained frozen in place, still unable to process what had just happened. But what shocked you most was what happened next. Before you could say anything, Sunghoon held out the plush, offering it to you with a tint of red blooming across his cheeks.

“Here,” he said. “You can have it.”

You blinked in surprise, an eruption of butterflies setting off inside your chest. Slowly, you reached out, your fingers brushing against his as you took the penguin plush from his hands.

“Thanks, Hoon,” you said, using the nickname special only to the two of you.

“Like it?” he asked, watching as you softly squished the plush, your eyes filled with wonder.

You held the plush to your chest. You smiled at him and nodded.

“I like it.”

I like you.

𖤐 𓈒࣪ ᭡ ˖ four. 𝙞 𝙢𝙞𝙨𝙨 𝙮𝙤𝙪 . . . 𖦹︎ ִֶָ ࣪ ៹

PEOPLE OFTEN CALLED SPRING THE SEASON OF ROMANCE. Of pink flower petals, pink as the cheeks of lovesick youths; of blossoming love, nurtured by the warm encounters shared between two people hopelessly lost in each other’s orbit.

But not everyone was meant to experience that feeling for themselves. And you were one of them, it seemed.

“I like you.”

The words fell from your lips as easily as the petals of the cherry blossoms from the tree above you. His eyes widened at your sudden confessions, his head turning to face you, no longer occupied with watching the shifting clouds hanging over your heads.

Your voice is soft. Full of hesitance, yet honest all the same. But he doesn’t make a move to reciprocate. He could only stand there, frozen as the ice he held dear to himself.

Maybe you shouldn’t have said anything. Maybe you should have gone on pretending that you didn’t feel anything for him. Pretend as if Park Sunghoon — one of your closest friends — didn’t make your heart burst like the kaleidoscope of colours at the storefront of a flower shop.

But there was no denying it. You couldn’t lie to yourself… and not to him, either.

“What?” he asked, his voice weak with shock.

You swallowed heavily, the weight of your words squeezing down on your chest.

“I like you,” you repeated. “I have for a long time now.”

You stood there for what seemed to be an eternity of silence. Sunghoon looks at you, his eyebrows furrowed in a deep frown, his shoulders tense. And at that moment, you probably already knew what was coming.

“I… I’m sorry.” Sunghoon lowered his head, unable to look at you. If you listened closely, you could hear the sound of shattered glass — the remnants of your heart breaking at his words.

You forced a smile, despite how much it pained you to do so. “It’s okay,” you said. “It happens… I just wanted to let you know.”

Sunghoon but his lip. “We can still be friends, though… right?”

You nodded. “Of course.”

That’s what you told him. But truth be told, you didn’t know how you could go on, acting like nothing had happened. Acting like you didn’t wish to be something more. And so, that afternoon, when you walked home alone — needing time to yourself to wipe the tears that fell down your cheeks as you mindlessly dragged yourself to your bed — you could only think of one thing.

That from this moment forth, you would do what needed to be done to save your own heart. Even if it meant breaking it at the same time. So when Sunghoon texted you later that night, budding you sweet dreams, you didn’t reply.

Unaware that his own heart was breaking just as much as your own.

Sunghoon stared at his message, waiting for the text bubbles to appear on your end, which would signal that you were about to respond. But as minutes passed — and soon, an hour — and there was no sign of reciprocation on your end, he finally turned off his phone and dropped it on his pillow.

He sighed deeply, running his hands through his hair.

Your confession had completely caught him off guard. He hadn’t expected that you felt anything more for him than friendly affection, considering how easily you endeared yourself to others. How easily you smiled, how easily you made others laugh, how easily you broke down any walls around their hearts….

Himself included.

But he didn’t know what it was that he felt for you. For a long time, he barely had any friends to call his own — acquaintances maybe, but never friends. And then you came out of nowhere, literally crashing into his life, with the bold proclamation of being his friend within hours of knowing him.

He didn’t know how you did it. How you made him so curious about you that he woke up every morning waiting for your texts, or anticipating the sight of your smile.

He didn’t know what you were doing to him. But he didn’t want it to change. He wanted you to always be there with him, to share all his moments with him, small or big, good or bad. But now…

One last time, Sunghoon checked his phone.

No answer.

He closed his eyes. He hoped with all his heart that this was temporary. That tomorrow morning, when he woke up, he would see your name as a notification, bidding him good morning with that smiley emoji you seemed to favour so much.

He hoped — more desperately than words could say — that he didn’t just lose you forever.

But he started to see the signs.

The next morning, he didn’t hear a word from you. When he got to school to your usual meet up spot, you were nowhere to be seen. And when he got to class, taking his seat next to your empty desk, imagine his surprise when he found out you weren’t coming to school.

“She said she was feeling sick,” Yunjin told him, surprised. “She didn’t tell you?”

No. You didn’t. And Sunghoon didn’t know what was worse — that he was the only one who didn’t know, or that he was the only who knew the real reason why you weren’t there.

You were avoiding him. And it only became obvious when things continued the next, and the next day after…

Slowly, but surely, you were slipping from his grasp.

Slowly but surely, he was losing you.

One day, he realised, you would stop being there altogether. One day, you would go on and find new people to surround yourself with. New people to tease, new people to spam with cute texts, new people to go to the arcades with…

And a new person to like. Perhaps, more than him.

Sunghoon felt sick at the thought of you with someone else. The thought of you confessing to them the way you did to him. And he was starting to realise why.

“Hey, Yunjin.”

Sunghoon stopped by the girl’s desk as soon as the bell rang.

“Hey, what’s up?” she asked curiously. 

Sunghoon pointed at the notes she was currently on the middle of putting away in her bag. The notes she was asked to copy down and give to you so you could catch up from home.

“Those are for her, right?”

At your house, buried under your covers, you had no idea of what was happening. Completely oblivious to the desperate boy on his way to your house, running as if his life depended on it, you curled into a ball, your limbs feeling too weak to leave the cocoon you made for yourself on your bed. 

A knock on your bedroom door causing you to lift your head.

“What?” you asked in irritation.

“Don’t you know how to check your phone?” Your older brother, Heeseung asked. “One of your friends from school is here saying that they were meant to give you your catch up notes. But you weren’t answering.”

You sat up in your bed. Checking your phone, you saw several missed calls from Yunjin. You groaned. You quickly texted an apology before kicking your sheets off your figure and rushing to the bathroom to fix your appearance.

Despite having taken a shower not too long ago, you still looked utterly miserable, and the wetness of your hair only added to the drowned rat look you were sporting, with your oversized white tee shirt and old gym shorts.

You sighed as you quickly fixed your hair as best you could. Hopefully, Yunjin wouldn’t care too much.

You trudged to your door, slamming it open to see Heeseung standing there with raised eyebrows.

“Are you sure you wanna go down looking like that?” he asked.

You rolled your eyes. “Who cares? It’s just Yunjin.”

Heeseung’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “When did I say—?”

But before Heeseung could finish, you were already pushing past him. You really didn’t have time for his nagging, especially when he had already been doing it for the last few days, urging you to get out of your room and even trying to drag you out by force. He might have thrown you into the back of the car to drive you away from home — where you had been locked up for days now — to go anywhere with fresh air if it weren’t for your mother scolding him.

With a tired sigh, you made your way downstairs. Since both your parents weren’t home, it was completely quiet, and you could hear your footsteps echo as they padded across the tiled floors of the kitchen to your front door.

You cleared your throat as you opened the door.

“Hey, Yun—“ your eyes widened when you saw who was at the door. “Sunghoon?”

Sunghoon smiled tiredly, panting, his shoulders rising and falling as if he had just ran a mile.

“Hey.”

You gaped.

“I— what— why—?” You couldn’t even make out words in your shock. At that moment, you remembered what Heeseung said about your appearance and gasped. “Wait, I’m not dressed—“

You almost closed the door in Sunghoon’s face. But before you could even move, he had already reached out to grab your arm pulling you to his chest. Your eyes widened at the feeling of his arms enveloping you, covering you in warmth.

“Hoon…?” you asked, your voice shaky.

Sunghoon took a deep breath. And only then, you realised he was crying.

“Hoon? What’s wrong?” you asked. You tried to pull away and look at his face, only for him to tighten his grip on you.

“I like you.”

You froze in place.

“What did you just say?”

Sunghoon took another shaky breath, his forms hovering as he held onto you as if you might disappear at any moment.

“I didn’t realise it until now… and I’m so sorry it took so long,” he whispered, his voice shaky and hoarse. “But I like you. I like you a lot. And when you were gone I missed you like crazy.”

He pulled away, looking you in the eyes.

Your heart hammered away in your chest. We’re you dreaming? Or did Sunghoon really just say he liked you — you, of all people. The whole time you spent lying in bed mourning your broken heart, he had been feeling the same way for you that you did for him?

“I…” your voice shook as you pulled away from the hug. You looked into his eyes, wet from tears. Those tears were from you, you realised. You did this to him. You made him cry. “I’m so sorry…”

Sunghoon sniffled, shaking his head. “It’s okay.” His hands, still shaking from his raging emotions, slowly made their way up your arms, before cupping your face. “Just tell me… please tell me you haven’t moved on.”

You shook your head, swallowing the lump in your throat. “Never.”

“Then be mine,” Sunghoon whispered, almost as if he was praying.

You didn’t say anything in return. Instead, you pulled his tie down, so that his lips crashed against yours, fitting like two pieces on a jigsaw puzzle. You let your lips move against his own without any thought but the feel of his mouth on yours. Of the feeling of him holding you to him, like you belonged there on the first place.

And you did.

You were a fool to think otherwise.

A few minutes later — after Heeseung had chased Sunghoon away, claiming “kids should be in bed by now” — you lay on your bed to find a new message from Sunghoon.

Hoon: can’t wait to see you again

You giggled.

You: you only just left 😆

Hoon: i know just can’t help it

As you read his next message, a warm feeling wrapped around your heart.

Hoon: i miss you 🤍

#i know its good angst when i feel the literal ACHE IN MY HEART #AND HIM USING THE EMOJI AT THE END?? #wow depicted so well #because sunghoon never experienced having #frienfs #so he didnt know what anything felt like #and how to differentiate frienfs and more than friends #so it was so #ONDGSINSISKSK #recs ⁝ park sunghoon #park sunghoon ⁝ fics

[jaeyunwrld]

HIDDEN LOVE ⋆𐙚 lhs

꒰ SUMMARY ! ꒱ to others, he was lee heeseung: musical prodigy, star of the basketball team, and golden boy of his college. to you, he was hee: your brother’s best friend, your safe place, and your first and final love.

pairing brother’s bsf!heeseung x fem!reader (ft. brother!jay) warning mention of violence, assault, profanity, blood and injury, not proofread word count 9.2k notes happy bday @bluriki! love u rora bb & hope you like my gift! ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

THE FIRST TIME YOU MET LEE HEESEUNG, he was nineteen and you were seventeen.

School bag in hand and sweat on your forehead, you sighed in content as the coolness of the air conditioned home kissed your flushed skin. The summer heat was unforgiving, so no one could blame you when you rushed towards the freezer, throwing the door open in search of the precious stash of mango popsicles you saved for yourself as treats for enduring another tedious day at school. The last thing you expected was to find that there was none left.

In disbelief, you rummaged through the drawers, wondering if you misplaced them. But it soon came clear to you that this wasn’t an error on your part. There was no one else in this household who had the same appetite for ice cream as you did — and this time, you just knew he was to blame.

You slammed the door of the freezer shut, your mind made up as you stomped over to your brother’s room. Since he came home from college for summer break, he had been invading every bit of territory that you claimed as your own upon his departure from home. You didn’t even need to question when he had the opportunity to steal your precious ice cream. The evidence was all against him. So you didn’t hesitate to enact justice when you saw him.

“Hey!” you yelled at the top of your lungs. You twisted open his bedroom door, throwing it open with all the annoyance you could summon. “Park Jeongseong, you—!”

You froze mid sentence, eyes comically wide as they stared at the sight before you — one that wasn’t your brother. A person who could only be a character of a manhwa who had come to life. Had you been idealised without even realising? Because the stranger in front of you was far too pretty to be real.

Sitting in the halo of the sunlight that filtered through your brother’s window, the person before you cradled a guitar over his lap, slender fingers pausing in the middle of a gentle strum. Doe-like eyes met yours, giving him the appearance of a deer caught in the headlights. Still, with the framing of his soft hair against his forehead and the soft angles around his face, he didn’t look any less handsome in his surprised state. With his casual baggy t-shirt and jeans, he looked like the typical flower male leads of high school romance dramas.

“…Bastard…”

You swallowed thickly, eyes blinking rapidly at the unwilling words which left your mouth. The handsome stranger raised a perfect brow at the sudden name-call, and you felt your face flush. Somehow, even such a simple action seemed attractive when he did it.

“Sorry, not you!” you amended immediately. “I was just—!” You were about to explain yourself like a burglar who was caught in the middle of a heist, only to realise that wasn’t right at all: pretty or not, the person in front of you was a total stranger inside your home, in your brother’s room. You crossed your arms over your chest, standing your ground against the curious gaze of the intruder. “Wait a second— who are you? And why are you in my house?”

The intruder looked at you. You looked back. Then after a few seconds, he laughed. In your confusion, you failed to notice your older brother creep up behind you with an unimpressed look. “What are you doing in my room? I told you not to go in without knocking.”

You turned around to meet your older brother’s questioning gaze. By now, you had completely forgotten about the ice cream, instead focusing on the new mystery in front of you. “But!” You pointed to the stranger on your brother’s bed like a child pointing out a stray puppy to their mother. “There’s a random guy in your room!”

Jeongseong — or rather, “Jay,” as he liked to be called — followed the direction of your pointed finger, his gaze landed on the boy on his bed. Your brother let out a sigh. Like an adult dealing with a troublesome child, he looked down at you with a flat look. “That ‘random guy’,” Jay said, “is my best friend from college.”

Your eyes widened comically, a small ‘o’ forming on your lips. “You have friends?”

There was silence. Then, the emptiness was filled with the sound of rich laughter, and you felt your cheeks heat up at the warmth of the sound, your head turning to look at the source. Your brother’s so-called ‘best friend’ was smiling at you, his eyes dancing with mirth. Your brother rolled his eyes from behind you, unaware of the infatuated look in your eyes as you took in the sight before you.

“Heeseung, meet my little sister, [_____].” Jeongseong’s rough palm landed on the top of your head, forcing it down into a polite nod, and breaking your trance with the older male in front of you. You furrowed your brows and shook off the weight of his heavy hand, lifting your head to meet the eyes of this ‘Heeseung.’ “[_____], say hi.”

You timidly bowed your head, fidgeting slight under the amused gaze of the handsome boy in front of you.

He nodded at you, a soft smile on his face. “Nice to meet you, Little Park,” he said, his voice full of the gentleness one might have when speaking to a baby kitten. You could have sworn your heart skipped a beat. “I hope you don’t mind me hanging out in your home.”

You blinked, too startstruck to do anything else. And from that moment on, your world was never the same.

THE FIRST TIME YOU REALISED YOU MIGHT HAVE A LITTLE CRUSH ON LEE HEESEUNG, it was only a few days after meeting him.

Ever since you met Heeseung, he had been around the house more often, seeing as he had won over your parents as easily as he seemingly won over you — with his charms and smile, the couple instantly invited Heeseung to hang over at your home more often. And surprisingly enough, the boy instantly agreed.

You had always been shy around strangers. But at your age, within the walls of your school, someone as handsome as Lee Heeseung was rarer than a Shiny Pokémon. And while your own brother was considered good-looking by many people, including your friends, you had grown immune to his face from years of exposure to it and because of many embarrassing childhood memories of him attached to it. To you, Lee Heeseung was from a whole different world from your own. And that was why you couldn’t help but treat him differently than you did other boys you met.

You were skittish around him, avoiding him like a cat would water. You made sure you weren’t alone with him for too long out of fear that you might embarrass yourself with your awkwardness. On the other hand, he had always been the one to give you warm smiles out of kindness, greeting you whenever you somehow crossed paths. And you had to admit that it made you feel warm inside. But at the same time, having him around your house constantly was a little unnerving. Especially when he witnessed all the little moments that happened in your own home — even those you wished he wouldn’t have witnessed at all.

You had a test coming up for one of your classes which you had been struggling with, and in a last ditch effort to save your failing grade, you enlisted the help of your much more academically gifted older brother. You were sitting on the floor of your living room, your books and stationary scattered across the small coffee table, while your brother sat on the couch behind you, arms crossed over his chest and a ruler in his left hand, painting the image of an old-school teacher with Spartan teaching methods.

“Okay, so which formula do you use to solve this?”

You furrowed your eyebrows as you stared at the paper in front of you, trying to mentally flip through all the pages of formulas you had tried to cram in your head under your brother’s expectant gaze. You frowned when you could only remember the first few parts, completely unable to decipher the rest from the random jumble of letters and numbers that your brain came up with to fill your gaps in knowledge.

“Ouch!” You yelped when you suddenly felt the familiar feeling of the end of Jeongseong’s ruler lightly knocking your skull. You raised your hands defensively to plant on top of your head. Pouting, you turned around to glare at your brother. “What was that for?”

“I was giving your braincells a manual reboot,” he said plainly. “How hard is this? I already told you so many times how to do it.”

You huffed, your pride wounded as Jeongseong chided you. It would be fine if it was only you and your parents in the home to witness your lack of mental capacity for math. But as it happened, your brother’s best friend was pouring himself a drink in the kitchen, and happened to witness everything with front row seats.

“Seriously, how are you this dumb?” Jeongseong asked.

You drowned in embarrassment as you felt Heeseung’s eyes on the two of you. Even if he was your brother’s best friend, he was still essentially a stranger to you, and it was always more humiliating to be humbled in front of people you didn’t know. So for your brother to call you ‘dumb’ in front of him, you couldn’t help but feel wronged.

You glared at your bother. “You don’t have to be such a jerk about it,” you hissed under your breath, your hands balling into fists at your side. “I’m trying my best.”

Before Jay could ask what was wrong with you, you quickly stood from your seat, your hair falling over your eyes as they remained glued to the floor. And without another word, you stormed to your room. You slammed the door shut, ignoring the protests from your older brother. Flopping onto your bed, you buried your face into one of the plushies, your limbs laying limp by your side.

You thought about the way you left the scene and groaned. Now you probably looked weird and stupid at the same time. You reached over to your bedside subconsciously, and groaned again when you realised you hadn’t even brought your phone with you. Your laptop was still in the living room, as well, so you couldn’t carry out your plans to waste the day away in your room like you had planned.

Great. Just great.

Seems like you would just have to force yourself to take a nap instead. Closing your eyes, you willed yourself to fall asleep. But a knock at your door had them snapping open once more. Was it Jeongseong? What did he want right now?

Groaning, you dragged yourself off the bed. At the door, you readied yourself to give the meanest glare that you could possibly give, in case he tried to give you a hard time because of your attitude. But when you opened the door, you were surprised to find someone who wasn’t your brother.

“Hey, Little Park,” Heeseung greeted. Your eyes widened, and you felt your breath be caught inside your chest. Because why was Lee Heeseung currently in front of your room? “Sorry to bother you, I just came to bring these for you.”

Your eyes flitted down to the tray inside Heeseung’s hands that you didn’t notice upon seeing his face. It had a glass of juice on it, as well as a plate of fruit that he had cut. “This is for me?” you asked in surprise. “What’s it for?”

Heeseung chuckled warmly at your reaction. “Your brother asked me to bring it for you, since he knew you probably didn’t want to come out into the kitchen after…”

You lowered your head in shame at the reminder of how you suddenly stormed out the living room. “Please forget that happened… It’s embarassing.”

“Don’t be embarrassed,” Heeseung said gently. “Your brother did a lot more embarassing things in front of me. His mood swings were the worst during puberty.”

You laughed as you recalled memories of your older brother when he was fourteen. He had a bit of a temper, and got angered at the slightest inconveniences. One of his infamous grievances — or so you heard from your parents, when they came back from a parent-teacher interview for your brother — was when he gathered all the members of his football team in the locker rooms and gave them all a dressing-down for leaving their dirty towels scattered across the changing rooms.

Seeing your smile, Heeseung returned it with one of his own. He held out the tray in his hands, and you took it gratefully into your smaller ones, your fingers brushing slightly from the contact. You expected him to let go straight away, but to your surprise, he kept his hands there. You looked up at him questioningly.

“I know you probably wouldn’t want to hear this right now,” he said, “but your brother really cares for you.” He gestured to the fruit on the plate. “I know for a fact that whenever me and my older brother argued, he would never think to feed me afterwards.”

You lowered your head at Heeseung’s words. You knew this very well, in fact. Your brother was the person who cared about your most on this world, aside from your parents. Your mother often told the tales of how your brother had refused to leave your side when you were younger, insisting on sleeping in your room with you in case you got lonely. And then when your parents woke up to check on you when you started crying in the middle of the night, by the time they made it to the room, your brother was already by your side, gently patting you back to sleep.

Even when the two of you bickered, you knew you were fortunate to have a brother like Jeongseong.

“I know,” you told Heeseung, your head lowered.

Heeseung chuckled. And a second later, you found yourself freezing when you felt his palm on the top of your head. “Hey,” he said, meeting your surprised gaze with a smile. “Don’t feel bad.” He gave your head a gentle pat, chuckling awkwardly when you seemed even more confused. “Sorry. I don’t know why I did that.”

The two of you laughed together, and the earlier gloom above your head was chased away by the brightness of his smile.

“I should probably go back to study,” you said, suddenly feeling invigorated.

Heeseung hummed. “How about I help you?” Upon seeing your surprised expression, he smiled warmly. “I have the free time, and your brother is still moping in his room. So we can go over some of the things you’re struggling with.”

You eagerly accepted the older boy’s offer, and the two of you sat down at the coffee table, knees brushing against each other, and your heads bumping slightly as you hunched over your school work.

You looked up at one point, after a particularly problematic equation, discretely watching Heeseung as he scanned your working. At this angle, you could admire the length of his eyelashes and the perfect outline of his side profile, and the way his chocolate brown irises appeared like caramel in the lighting. You almost flinched when those eyes of his met yours. And then he smiled at you, his hand reaching up to the top of your head once more.

“Good job, Little Park,” he said warmly. And you couldn’t help but beam under his praise. “You should take a break, though. It’s been a while.”

You didn’t refuse. After all, you would much rather not do any more equations. You worried it may be awkward between you and Heeseung, though, seeing as you’ve never had a proper conversation before today. But soon, the living room was filled with your voices as you discussed topic after topic.

“So you have an older brother, right?” you asked, remembering how he mentioned it earlier. “Do you get along?”

Heeseung hummed, and you couldn’t help but note the smooth but low register of his voice when he was relaxed. “We get along like all brothers do — but I’d say you and Jay seem to be closer than we are.” Heeseung smiled as he observed your facial features. “You’re really similar, too. Me and my brother never had a lot of shared interests.”

You tilted your head curiously. “How so?”

Heeseung leaned back onto the sofa behind the two of you, looking up at the ceiling, and giving you a nice view of his Adam’s Apple. “He was always more studious. Top student and everything. I liked music and basketball better — and apparently I’m pretty good at it.”

“Really? That’s cool!” Music and basketball was an interesting combination. But It made sense, too, considering Heeseung’s physique: Heeseung was much taller than average, and even your brother was quite a bit shorter than him; his fingers were long and slender as well, and probably skilful with the piano — though you, of course, wouldn’t say that out loud. “So you’re good at basketball? I can see it,” you said, nodding sagely. “You have the height for it.”

Heeseung chuckled. “I think I’ve heard that one before.”

The more you spoke to Heeseung, the easier for you to let down your guard. While your first impression was someone out of reach, you realised he was actually very comfortable to be around. “By the way,” you said, looking up at Heeseung, “do you have a girlfriend?”

Heeseung blinked, obviously surprised. “Why do you ask?”

“I mean…” You shrugged, trying to seem nonchalant. You couldn’t let him know you wanted to see if he was available — especially since you only just met. “Most guys your age have girlfriends, right?”

“Your brother doesn’t, though,” Heeseung pointed out.

You nodded. “Well, that’s because my brother is terrible at flirting with girls. So it makes sense.”

Heeseung raised an eyebrow, amusement dancing in his eyes. “So what about me, then?” The corner of his lips tugged into a smirk. “If you think I have a girlfriend, are you saying I’m good at flirting?”

You blinked, not expecting that sort of question to come from him. You awkwardly avoided his eyes, humming uncertainty. “Well… I mean— you probably wouldn’t be bad at it… Right?”

Heeseung paused. Then, he laughed, the sound so full and resonant it caused your heart to beat wildly in return. “Well, I’m flattered,” he said while looking at you with amusement. He leaned towards you, his voice and smirk holding a teasing lilt. “But just so you know — I’m single.”

You didn’t realise it then, but that fluttering feeling inside your chest when you made eye contact was the beginning of your first and only love.

THE FIRST TIME YOU REALISED THAT LEE HEESEUNG REALLY CARED ABOUT YOU, he was twenty and you were eighteen.

A year had passed since you met Lee Heeseung in your brother’s room, and since then, you could say that — whenever he was on break from college — the older boy had become something of a constant in your life from there on. Every day, when you came home from school, he would be there with a cup of juice for you to fend off the heat. And when winter came, the juice would be replaced with hot chocolate. And one the first day you saw each other during his seasonal breaks, he would have a gift for you.

The first time it happened, you hadn’t been suspecting it. But as soon as Heeseung laid eyes on you when he walked through the front door of your house, he had immediately gestured you over to him. You, being the lovesick puppy you were, immediately bounded up to him. And your eyes lit up when he held out his hand with a keychain of your favourite Sanrio character.

“Here,” he said to you, in that same gentle tone he always did. “I got this for you. I saw it at a gift store and thought you would like it.”

Jeongseong gave him an ugly look. “Where’s my present?”

Heeseung walked past him. “It’s me.”

Your brother, having his delicate feelings offended, immediately pounced on his friend in retaliation. Their laughter bounced off the walls of your home. And as the two tall males brawled playfully in front of the entrance to your home, you simply stared at the keychain in your hand with a smile, before clutching it close to your heart.

It had become routine, and it had gotten to the point where you had been used to his presence. So, whenever your brother was home, but you didn’t see Heeseung’s face, you pestered Jeongseong about it.

“Where’s Hee?” you asked one day, as you returned home from school, only to find the familiar head of ashy silver hair was no where to be seen.

Your brother gave you a narrow stare, and you briefly wondered if he had caught onto your little puppy crush on his best friend, and had consequently chased Heeseung out of his home in his typical overprotective fashion. But instead, he turned back to his show on the television, brushing your question off with a dismissive explanation.

“He’s busy,” Jeongseong said.

You frowned at the news.

“Did you ask about if he was coming to my graduation?” you asked your brother. It was your final year in high school, and in a week’s time, you would be graduating. Since Heeseung had grown close to your family, you thought that perhaps he might come. But your brother nipped that thought in the bud.

Jeongseong turned around and gave you a strange look. “Why would he?”

You paused. That was a good question: why would Lee Heeseung attend your graduation? Even if it was a milestone in your life, were the two of you really close enough that he needed to be there to share it?

“Ah,” you said, disappointed. “Never mind…”

You knew it was foolish of you to be upset about this. After all, he didn’t have an obligation to be there. The two of you wouldn’t even know each other if it weren’t for your older brother. It was childish of you to assume he would be there, as if you really meant anything to him — as if you weren’t just someone he treated well for the sake of being related to a good friend of his.

Besides, he was busy. What right did you have to demand his time?

You dragged your feet as you went towards you room, phantom puppy ears flattening against your head. As if sensing the sulking aura from you, Jeongseong let out a heavy sigh and said, “Bring your phone.”

Your head whipped towards your brother in shock. “What?”

“If you want to ask him to go to your graduation, then you ask him yourself.” Jeongseong looked at over form over the couch, holding his hand out to you. “I’ll give you his number.”

You rushed to hand your phone over to your brother like he had offered you a pot of gold. You weren’t sure why your brother was offering you his best friend’s number, but you didn’t question it. Heeseung was the only friend of his he ever allowed near his home — so it went to show that your brother didn’t mind if he was around you. You just had to make sure you weren’t obvious. So after Jeongseong had typed Heeseung’s number, you feigned calmness as you thanked him and went to your room.

But the second you closed the door behind you, you jumped onto your bed while kicking your feet giddily. After saving his contact under your nickname for me — accompanied by a hamster emoji — you quickly sent a text his way, letting him know that your brother gave him your number. It didn’t take long before you received a reply.

Hee 🐹: thanks for letting me know

Hee 🐹: i’ll save your number

You smiled as you sent another text.

You: sorry to bother you btw

You: i just wanted to ask if you were free next friday

Hee 🐹: next friday??

Hee 🐹: sorry little park but i’m busy on that day

Hee 🐹: why do you ask?

You frowned at the reply. Of course. Your brother had told you he was busy, so you shouldn’t have been disappointed. But a small part of you — the naive part — was hoping that, by some twist of fate, he would be free to celebrate what was a special day in your life. Biting your lip, you sent back a solemn reply.

You: no, it’s nothing

You: just asking

You quickly changed the topic, not wanting to alarm the boy. Knowing him, he would feel guilty if he knew he was missing out on your graduation: he was just kind like that. Always wanting to be there for everyone, always wanting to make everyone happy. You supposed it was selfish to want to keep him to yourself.

You: are you okay?

You genuinely didn’t want him to be overworking himself, so you had to make sure.

Hee 🐹: i’m fine don’t worry about me

Hee 🐹: i’ve been working at a music store lately to earn some money

You tilted your head. You knew Heeseung was talented when it came to music, but you didn’t know he worked at a music store. His parents were well off much like yours and Jeongseong’s, so he didn’t need to worry about funds — just like you and Jeongseong were told by your parents to simply focus on studying rather than getting jobs before you graduated. But it was admirable seeing Heeseung be independent, regardless.

Smiling, you sent back a text of your own.

You: oooh i didn’t know that you had a job!

You: congrats! 🥳

You: hope i’m not bothering you

Your heart skipped a beat at the next text.

Hee 🐹: you could never be a bother to me

You didn’t realise how much Heeseung meant that until a week later, after you had walked off the stage with your graduation certificate.

Your cheeks had hurt from smiling so much, your graduation certificate held carefully in your arms. Being able to celebrate it with your family and school friends you spent years with made the lack of Heeseung’s presence feel a little less empty. So you, were content with what you had, and didn’t dare ask for more.

After taking photos with your friends, you stuck by your family the entire time, until your brother had excused himself for a second to answer a call.

“Hey, are you here yet?” Jeongseong asked on the phone, making his way away from you and your parents. You didn’t pay attention to what he might be saying, too focused on posing for more pictures as a photographer your parents hired snapped away on their camera.

Time passed since your brother had left, and you didn’t know when he came back, but when he ran back towards you and your parents, he promptly apologised by saying, “I had to go pick something up.”

You furrowed your eyebrows. “Pick up what?”

A tap on your shoulder caught you off guard, and you whipped your head around to face the perpetrator. You hadn’t expected to come face to face with the person you had been missing tonight. You gasped and broke away from Heeseung in shock, a hand flying to your mouth. He simply chuckled at your expression, eyes crinkling and sparkling with mirth. “Happy graduation, Little Park.”

“Hee!” you exclaimed excitedly, and you jumped on him, almost tackling him to the ground. You giggled with glee as he returned your embrace, his arms wrapping around you gently, and a hand coming up to the back of your head, cradling it to his chest. Your parents chuckled on the background, and your brother sighed. You pulled back, eyes full of wonder as you looked up at your crush. “But didn’t you say you were busy? I mean, you had work, right?”

Heeseung smiled. “I couldn’t miss your graduation, could I?” He then pouted at you. “I’m a bit disappointed that you didn’t mention it, though.” You sheepishly lowered your head, and he chuckled before patting your head. “Don’t worry. That’s what your brother is for. If there’s one thing he’s good at, it’s telling people all about your business.”

“Hey!” Jeongseong protested at having been exposed for his habit of bringing you up any chance he got. You blinked in surprise, not expecting that side of him. But as if he didn’t like the way your attention drifted from him, Heeseung cleared his throat.

You immediately looked at him. And then, as if he didn’t surprise you enough already, he suddenly pulled a bouquet out from behind his back — one that had to be bigger than the size of your head, but which happened to have all your favourite flowers.

All of a sudden, you remembered a conversation the two of you had, a few days ago on the phone.

“Can you help me with something?” Heeseung asked on the phone. You, of course, eagerly agreed, and he explained his situation. “I want to buy my brother’s girlfriend some flowers to welcome her into the family, but I don’t know which ones a girl would like. Can you give me some ideas?”

You “ooh”ed in understanding, racking your brain for some common flowers. Secretly, your heart fluttered at the thought that — of all people, and of all the girls he most likely knew — you were the first person Heeseung came to for help. You definitely didn’t want to mess this up.

“It depends, though. Everyone is different,” you replied.

There was a slight pause on the other side of the line, and you were scared that you had disappointed Heeseung. But instead, he simply hummed, and made an ‘ah’ sound out of realisation. “Then why don’t you tell me what flowers you like?” he suggested. “If I got you a bouquet, what would you want in it?”

You scolded yourself for immediately picturing Heeseung in a suit, holding a bouquet of your favourite flowers as he gave you that same warm smile that he always did. Shaking your head, you immediately started to name the ones that you preferred.

You didn’t think the information you gave him would end up being used like this. With a wide grin, you accepted the flowers, your eyes sparkling like the night sky as you looked at the boy in front of you — not in a suit, like you had imagined, but handsome all the same. He always was, after all.

“Thank you, Hee,” you said, full of genuine gratitude.

He smiled at you. “Anything for you,” he said.

And now, you knew he meant it.

THE FIRST TIME YOU SAW LEE HEESEUNG ANGRY, you didn’t even know he was capable of it.

You had always been used to a warm Heeseung. The Heeseung who teased you with smirks, and simultaneously doted on you with kind smiles. But you didn’t realise that he had a side to him that was fierce, just as he was gentle. That even his blood was capable of boiling if someone pushed him far enough.

Having graduated from high school, and awaiting news from college applications, you spent your free time working part-time at a local convenience store, which happened to be fairly close to the music store Heeseung worked at. You worked day shifts, so you never worried for your safety. But one particular day, you got unlucky.

“How’s work going?” Heeseung had asked through your AirPods. He was on break, while you were simply waiting for customers to show up. At this time, you guys usually had phone calls to pass the time, and you would stack shelves with your earphones in, listening to Heeseung’s voice as he talked about his day and you told him about yours. It was one of the things you liked most about working at the convenience store — apart from the endless supply of nearly expired snacks you were allowed to eat for free.

“It’s going okay,” you replied. “Really empty, though.”

You weren’t surprised. Since it was winter, most people opted to stay inside to keep away from the cold. At most, you would have the nine-to-five workers who popped in from the office buildings across the convenience store during lunch hours. But it was already going on to four in the afternoon, so the buzz had already long died down by now.

At that moment, the door opened to signal the arrival of another customer. “Welcome,” you greeted politely, going over to the counter to get out of the way and wait for the customer to make a purchase. Heeseung didn’t say anything, allowing you to focus on your job. And it was then that you realised something was wrong.

The customer who had just walked in was stumbling over their own feet, an empty soju bottle in one hand, the other wiping his mouth after taking a swig. He was an average-looking man, middle-aged, with beady eyes and a strong stench of alcohol surrounding him. You subconsciously moved closer to the emergency button when he stumbled into one of the shelves, cursing loudly when a bunch of items fell to the floor with a clatter.

Heeseung, of course, had heard this, and instantly questioned you.

“Little Park,” he said, his voice uncharacteristically tense. “What was that?”

You blinked, watching as the customer aggressively ripped a few soju bottles from the fridge, causing others to fall on the floor. The sound of shattering glass immediately followed, and you flinched. “Sir,” you called out shakily, scared that you might set him off. “If you break items, you have to pay for it.”

“Fucking hell, just shut up already!” You flinched at the customer’s raised voice. You thought you were overreacting, so you didn’t alarm Heeseung when his voice once again rang in your ear.

“I’m being serious right now,” Heeseung said. “Are you okay?”No, went unsaid. But you didn’t need to say it, because there was already a loud shuffling on the other side of the line, followed by the sound of a door being swung open. Heeseung didn’t even let you protest as you heard the sound of him running down the concrete pathway. “I’m on my way, just stay on call.”

“Huh?” You glanced at the time on your watch. His break would finish in five minutes, he really didn’t have time to be running out on your account. “But your break—!”

“Hey.” You froze upon being addressed by the man, who had suddenly appeared in front of you. And even if there was a protective screen in front of you, you couldn’t help but feel threatening as he glared at you, aggressively placing his bottles on the counter. “Who are you talking to?”

You furrowed your brows. Why was it any of his business? “Are these all you’re buying?” You asked, ignoring his question and gesturing the the alcohol bottle. You then looked at the mess he made near the fridge. Since you weren’t going to risk stepping outside the booth, where he would be able to reach you, you did your best to assess the damage from where you stood. “I see three broken bottles, so that will be added to your total.”

You reached out cautiously to grab the bottles on the counter for scanning, wanting him out of the store as soon as possible. But just as you tried to grab them, you let out a scream when the man suddenly grabbed your arm, holding your wrist like a viper trying to cut off circulation.

“You little bitch!” he cursed. “You tried calling the police, didn’t you? Just like that woman!”

“Help!” You ignored the man’s rambling. But that seemed to only make things worse. He lunged at the screen between the two of you, nails reaching for your face. You let out another scream, your eyes stinging with tears as you tried in vain to free your hand. You somehow had the sense to press the merges services button under the counter, but who knew when they would get here. “Help! Is anyone there?!”

At that moment, as if the world had answered your prayers, the door to the convince store opened. And there stood Heeseung, chest heaving, his phone clutched in his hand. Upon seeing the sight in front of him, his eyes flashed with rage beyond words, his phone falling to the floor as he marched up to the man holding your wrist captive.

He grabbed the back of his collar before ripping his form away from the counter with strength you didn’t he possessed. You watched with wide eyes as Heeseung threw him to the ground, straddling him before throwing an unforgiving fist to the man’s face. The sound of flesh and cracking bones rang out as Heeseung levelled the man relentlessly in silent rampage, not once letting a single curse slip.

You watched as Heeseung’s knuckles became bloodied, busted and bruised. And seeing him like that, you finally snapped out of your frightened daze.

“Hee!” You yelled, scrambling from behind the counter. As if you placed a spell on him, Heeseung immediately stopped, his fist pausing mid-punch. You immediately wrapped your arms around his torso, tears flooding your vision as you squeezed him as tightly as you could. “Hee, stop!”

You didn’t care for the man who tried to attack you. But you could never forgive yourself if Heeseung got into trouble because of you.

“I’m okay,” you assured him. “I’m okay…”

Heeseung let his fist fall to his side, and he sighed as he looked at the unconscious man beneath him, whose face was beaten beyond recognition. By the time the police arrived at the scene, the only thing they found was the man on the floor of the convenience store, while you and Heeseung stood to the side, the latter hold you in his arms as he stroked your head and whispered gentle words into your ears.

“It’s okay,” he said, his lips against the shell of your ear as your body trembled from the shock of the events that just unfolded. He closed his eyes, burying his nose into your hair while you sobbed into his shoulder. “I won’t let anyone hurt you…”

That day, you realised just how unforgiving Heesung was. And yet, as he held you in his arms, you felt nothing but comfort. Even then — especially then — he was warm, gentle. He was safe.

“That bastard got lucky,” Jeongseong said as he picked you and Heeseung up front the police station, where you were required to give your own statements of what happened. Your older brother gripped the steering wheel until his knuckles went white. As soon as he heard the news of what happened, he was ready to send the person responsible for the bruise on your wrist to an early grave. And if it weren’t for the police present, holding him back when he stormed into the station, you were sure he would have. “If Heeseung hadn’t gotten to him first… I would have seriously killed him.”

Heeseung reached over from the backseat to pat your head as you zoned out in the passenger seat. You rubbed your arms for warmth, and the scent of Heeseung’s hoodie on your figure caused you to drift off to sleep while your brother ranted his frustration in the driver’s seat beside you.

And you just prayed for anyone else who ever raised a hand against you in the future. Because you knew you weren’t leaving Heeseung’s side any time soon.

THE FIRST TIME YOU KISSED LEE HEESEUNG, it was just a few months later.

It was your first day of college, and you had been nervous as you moved into your new accommodation on campus. Your parents were even more so, and you had a tearful goodbye. But as soon as they left, your brother and Heeseung — who coincidentally went to the same institution that you would now attend — stayed behind to help you move your furniture in.

“That’s all of it,” Heeseung said as he dusted off his hands. He smiled at you, before wiping sweat from his forehead. And you shamelessly watched the way his skin shone under the sunlight filtering through your window. “You’re good to go, Little Park.”

You smiled. Although he didn’t seem too different, you could tell you had somehow gotten closer to him after the convenience store incident. And ever since then, his presence had always been a source of security for you. You didn’t worry when he was around.

“Remember what I said, okay?” Jay asked. He was in typical overprotective brother mode as he lectured you on what you could or couldn’t do, and it gave you flashbacks to your first day of middle schools, where he had threatened off a little boy for gifting you a flower. Hopefully, he wouldn’t be getting into any fights this time around — but who knew? He had an unpredictable temper at times. “Be careful of boys!” Jeongseong warned passionately. “You can’t trust any of them, no matter how nice they look?”

You raised a brow. “But what about you and Hee?”

Jeongseong waved a dismissive hand. “Obviously, I’m your brother, so I don’t count. And Hee basically sees you as his little sister with how long he’s known you, so he doesn’t count, either.”

You froze. And all of a sudden, it was like a cloud of doom gathered over your head, threatening to drench you in your own self-pity. You would be lying if you said you didn’t have the fattest crush on him — and you had been trying to delude yourself into thinking he might feel the same one day.

But when Jeongseong raised a point, it was often a very good one. Heeseung had essentially spent two years in and out of your home, making it a second home of his own, and was as close as brothers with Jeongseong. He was a ‘safe’ man in Jeongseong’s eyes — because the way your brother saw it, there was no way Heeseung could hold any romantic feelings for you.

And you hated to admit that he might be right.

You glanced hesitantly over at Heeseung to find that he had a clenched jaw, his posture tense as he stared straight forward. You bit your lip, lowering your head. Now that you thought about it… Everything he did for you— was that just an act of brotherly affection? Did he really not see you as anything else?

“Anyway, we should head off,” Jeongseong said. “Have fun, and don’t forget to call if you need anything!”

With that, Jeongseong turned and opened your door, ready to leave. But at that moment, he noticed Heeseung was still standing where he was — unmoving. “Hey, man,” Jeongseong called out to him, “you okay there?”

You looked at him curiously, wondering the same thing. As if snapping out of a trance, Heeseung shook his head. “No. I’m fine. Let’s go.” He turned to follow Jeongseong out the door, but paused for a moment to look at you. You spared a small smile, hoping to give off some semblance of normalcy. But to your disappointment, he simply averted your gaze and turned away.

He left without looking back, leaving you wondering what you had done wrong.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” You looked at your friend, who you had met on Orientation Day, and who you hit it off with immediately. Kim Sunoo was the same age as you and coincidentally from the same degree. So, the two of you quickly stuck together like glue. “You seemed out of it since we met up.”

You quickly shook your head, not wanting to bring down the mood. Even though Sunoo knew about your feelings for Heeseung (you couldn’t resist telling him, when he seemed invested in your story), you didn’t really want to think about his strange behaviour. This was a day out for the two of you to enjoy. Remembering this, you smiled. “It’s nothing!” you assured. “Just missing home.”

Sunoo, thankfully, bought the lie (mostly because it was actually true), nodding sympathetically. “I get it. I miss my family a lot, even if it’s only been a day.” After a moment, he then made a noise like he remembered something. “By the way— if you’re not too tired, there’s a party at the dorms tonight. Some seniors that I know are holding it for us first years. Wanna come?”

Your eyes widened. “Really?” You hadn’t been invited to parties much in high school, because everyone knew you were related to Park “Overprotective” Jeongseong. Besides, your parents would have never allowed it. But now, you were slowly realising how much freedom you had as an adult. Just once, you felt like experiencing this part of your youth you never got to taste. “Sure.”

Hopefully, if nothing else, the party would be a nice distraction…

“You know Lee Heeseung?”

Or not.

Upon arriving at the venue where the supposed party was being held (which happened to be in the common rooms, meaning a relatively short walk), Sunoo had immediately dragged you over to a group of older girls, who were all either second or third years. You chatted with them awkwardly until they brought up the name all too familiar with you, fawning over his good looks. And Sunoo, who sensed the sudden spark of jealousy in your eyes, had been quick to subtly stake your claim on him.

Not that he needed to, considering Heeseung wasn’t yours…

“He’s my brother’s best friend,” you explained. Though you wished you kept your mouth shut, after seeing the glint of excitement in the senior’s eye. “Why?”

One of the other seniors grasped your hands. “Then do you think you can introduce me to him? He’s totally my type!”

You frowned.

“Oh, I forgot I was supposed to meet with some other friends,” Sunoo suddenly said. He then turned to you, grabbing your wrist out of the senior’s hands. “Come on, [_____]. They said they wanted to meet you, too.” With one last half-assed apology, Sunoo dragged you away from the seniors. He glanced at you, frowning at your vacant expression. “Sorry about them.”

You shook your head. “No. It’s okay…”

You supposed you should have seen this coming. Who wouldn’t want to be close to Lee Heeseung? It was only natural. But deep inside, you couldn’t help but wonder, if there was someone — someone like those pretty seniors you were with — who Heeseung wanted to be close to. After all, you knew he was single, but that didn’t mean his heart wasn’t taken. So who? Who was it?

“Little Park?”

You immediately froze in your tracks, causing Sunoo to pause right beside you. That nickname… Only one person ever used it. And there was no mistaking that voice. You immediately turned around, as your body was driven by some subconscious reaction to respond to him. Your eyes widened when you met gazes with Heeseung.

And he did not seem happy.

Heeseung’s eyebrows furrowed as his eyes landed on Sunoo’s hand on your wrist. His hand clenched in a fist by his side, and his jaw was clenched. He was as gorgeous as always, with his silver hair shining under the dim lighting of the common room, creating a nice contrast with the black shirt that clung to his form, moulding itself perfectly over his muscles. But the thing you noticed first was not the glare in his eyes, or his beauty.

It was the busted lip he was sporting, and the purple bruise on his cheek.

Your eyes widened, a gasp slipping past your lips. You didn’t know when Sunoo had dropped your wrist, but you didn’t care in that moment. You immediately ran to Heeseung, eyes trained on the injuries on his face. “Hee!” you gasped out, raising your hand to his face, your fingers hovering over his injury. “What happened to you? Your face…”

Heeseung looked down at you, sparing a weak smile, all his precious displeasure fading from his face. “Don’t worry.” He lifted his hand to grab your own, eyes holding the same light it always did when he spoke to you. “I’m fine.”

“No, you’re not!” You said. And it was probably the first time you ever raised your voice against him. But he simply grinned even wider, despite the pain he must feel from the cut on his lip. “Come on, we’re going to get your wound treated!” You turned around, facing Sunoo who was watching the two of you with raised eyebrows. “Sorry, but we have to go. I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

Sunoo barely got to say goodbye before you were bounding up the stairs. You pulled Heeseung behind you and he followed you like a lost puppy as you navigated your way up the stairs, towards your room at the end of the hallways. You threw the door open, making Heeseung sit on the bed as you looked around at your unpacked boxes.

“Where did I put my First Aid Kit?”

You went to reach for one of the boxes, only to be stopped by Heeseung’s hands on your own. “Hold up, Hee,” you said absently, not looking at his face. “Let me just—”

“[____].”

You froze at the sound of Heeseung’s voice calling you by name — your actual name. Not ‘Little Park’, the name that ensured he only looked at you as an extension of his friendship with your brother, but your name. Just you. You slowly turned around, wonderstruck at how the sound of your name on his tongue was both unfamiliar but right.

Heeseung smiled at you, and you thought at that moment that the look in his eyes tonight were the most beautiful things you’d ever seen. “Just stop for a moment, okay?”

Before you could say another word, Heeseung was pulling you towards him, so that you were standing between his legs. Your eyes widened, and your breath hitched in your throat. His nose brushed against yours as he looked up at you, eyelids hooded as his chocolate orbs stared into yours, looking as if he was trapped in some daze. You swallowed the lump in your throat as you looked at the bruise on your cheek.

“But your wounds,” you whispered, worry causing your lips to tug downwards in a frown, despite the way your soul sang at your proximity.

“I deserve them,” Heeseung whispered in return. “If I were Jay, I would beat me up, too.”

You froze, your blood going ice cold. “My brother did this to you?”

Your brother — Heeseung’s best friend — Jeongseong was the one responsible for the injuries on Heeseung’s face? Just what had happened in the few hours that you didn’t see the two of them? What was severe enough to warrant punches between all-but-blood brothers?

“I let him,” Heeseung said. “I said something I knew would piss him off, and gave him a free shot at me.” Heeseung laughed, as if recalling some fond memory. “He always did like bargain deals…”

You stared at Heeseung, dumbfounded. “What did you say to my brother that was bad enough to earn you this?”

Heeseung stared at you in silence. You stared back. The room was filled with a heavy tension as Heeseung’s eyes flickered down to your parted lips, his fingers curling into your waist. After what felt like an eternity, his eyes wandered up to yours.

“I told him that I liked his sister.”

You gasped silently, your eyes widening comically at Heeseung’s words. What did you even say to them? It was funny how you had been chasing after him for so long, and yet never imagined what might happen given the possibility that Lee Heeseung would feel the same way for you. And now that it was happening, you were helpless to react, your throat closing up and swallowing your words.

Then you remembered his strange reaction to Jeongseong’s words this morning, and if all made sense. “So this morning… You weren’t mad at me?

Heeseung smiled seeing your reaction. “I could never be mad at you,” he said, thumbs caressing your sides. “I’m sorry if it seemed that way… I was more frustrated with myself.” You gave him a questioning look. “I just knew I couldn’t keep hiding from the truth any longer: Your brother is smart, but he was wrong this time. He said I didn’t like you — but I do. I have for a while now.”

You didn’t even know what to say. If this was even real, or if you would wake up in your bed any second now with a hangover and the taste of vomit on your tongue. But all you knew right then and there was that you didn’t care if this was a dream or not. All you could think about was the you from two years ago, who had fallen for this man for the first time because she had looked into his eyes just like you were doing now.

“And what did my brother say after he punched you?” you asked breathlessly, your heart wrenching now that you knew just exactly why Heeseung was in the state he was.

Heeseung gave you that smile of his. The same one from when you meet. The same one you fell for. The same one you dreamt about every day since.

“He made me promise to love you like my life depended on it,” Heeseung replied. “And that’s exactly what I did.”

You don’t know who moved first. But within a split second, your lips met Heeseung, and a sharp hiss was ripped from his throat from the pressure on the cut on his lips. But before you could even think about pulling away, his hand found the nape of your neck, melding your lips further into his own.

Heeseung stole your kisses like it was breathing in air. You let him take them the same way he took your heart.

“I like you,” you whispered as you pulled away from him. “I like you so much.”

When the two of you fully parted form each other, you looked into Heeseung’s eyes to see an unfamiliar fire in them. “Before I ask you to be mine, I just have one question.” Heeseung smirked coolly as you swallowed nervously under his gaze. “About the guy you were with earlier…”

You blinked, surprised. “Sunoo? What about him?”

“You’re not a thing, are you?”

You raised your eyebrows, taking in Heeseung’s expression. The green in his eyes, and the distaste in his tone. You burst out into laughter upon seeing his jealousy shine through for the first time since meeting him, a warm feeling settling over your chest.

“I’m flattered you think every man I come across is interested in me…” you leaned in and kissed him on the cheek. “But just so you know — I’m single.”

Heeseung smiled softly, a distant memory of the past flashing through his mind. “Not anymore,” he claimed, before his lips found yours again.

You smiled into the kiss, too starstruck to do anything else.

All of a sudden, it was like you were seventeen again, and he was nineteen, playing guitar in your brother’s room. And just like then, you knew, your world was never going to be the same. With Lee Heeseung by your side, it could only be better.

✉️ PS 노트 ! this fic inspired by the drama ‘hidden love’ and the novel ‘secretly, secretly, but unable to hide it’. the pretty dividers with the bows are by @/v6que, but the header was made by me!

#bro i loved hidden love #SO THIS?? #top tier omg #recs ⁝ lee heeseung #lee heeseung ⁝ fics

[jaeyunwrld]

someday

pairings: teacher!jake x single mom!reader

summary: Being a single mom to a 6 year old daughter isn’t always easy, and it doesn’t help that her class teacher awakens feelings inside of you, you haven’t felt in a long time. Will the love between you blossom, or will your complicated life drive you apart?

words: 11.6k

story colour: green

warnings: one heavy (?) make out session and a lot of tension

masterlist of ‘enhypen as jobs’

Life can change.

From one second to another, everything can change. Everything you have once known to be normal, everything you were used to. It all can get ripped away from you in the matter of a few seconds.

From one second to another a seventeen-year-old girl finds out she got pregnant from a boy that wasn’t ready to commit to a life like that yet and parents that felt nothing but disappointment towards their teenage daughter.

From one second to another this girl had to move away, raise a child on her own and build a life save for them to live in. She had to find a job with a steady income, find people who could help her and put all her needs aside for the small bundle of life she brought into the world.

Not only did she have to change her life, but she also had to rebuild it. She had to create a new, healthier and secure one. Suddenly it wasn’t about what outfit to wear to school, how to sneak out to go to a party or new drama that happened at school. It was about changing diapers, sleepless nights caused by a toothing child and soothing countless emotional outbreaks. It was about raising her child, teaching kindness and blaming every bad thing on herself.

But at the end of the day, it was being grateful, loving the child unconditionally and not being able to imagine her life any different. It was feeling purpose, feeling needed and feeling loved. It was showing exactly that love to her child and never letting her forget that.

♡❀˖⁺. ༶ ⋆˙⊹❀♡

Listening to the waves crashing against the shore, you soak in the last moments of this morning, the soft rays of sun on your face, the slight breeze making your cheeks rosy and the faint sound of birds chirping somewhere close by. You soak in this moment, because moments like this are rare in the life you’re living, quiet and undisturbed, protected from all the daily stress and complications.

You breathe in the air one last time, before you see someone approaching you out of the corner of your eye.

“Look mommy, I found a pretty shell.”, your 6-year-old daughter Nuri says as she holds her hand out for you to see. You show her a bright smile, admiring the pretty shell in her hands. Your daughter has always been a collector, shells, flowers, rocks, even leaves, nothing is safe from her. And it’s something you love about her. How she sees the beauty in the small things, always so eager to show you the new things she discovered, with her big bright eyes.

“It’s so pretty, Nuri. How about you put it into your bag and later we will get the other shells you collected and make a pretty necklace out of them?” You watch as the little girl enthusiastically nods, putting the shell carefully into her bag, before sitting down beside you on the blanket you laid over the sand.

“Are you excited about starting school today?”, you ask your daughter, as you gently pull her onto your lap, stroking her hair with one of your hands. Whenever you look at her, you get stunned by how much you see your younger self in her. The more she grows, the more the resemblance grows. But you also realize how awfully fast time passes, and how much has changed since the day you held your little baby in your arms for the first time.

“I am.”, Nuri says, her big eyes almost disappearing as she grins widely at you, showing off her missing front tooth. “But I will also miss kindergarten a lot. And I will miss you too, mommy.”

In an instant, tears fill up your eyes and it takes you a moment to swallow them down, not wanting Nuri to see you like that. You could cry after you dropped her off at school, but for now, those tears will have to stay hidden. “I will miss you too, sweet girl. But it is just a few hours that we don’t see each other. Every day after school I will pick you up and we can do whatever we want to do, okay?”

Nuri nods her head again, before wrapping her arms around you, pulling you into a tight hug. “Do you think I will make any friends?”

“Of course, you will.”, you tell her, truthfully. Your daughter, in contrary to you, never had problems talking to others. She is a social butterfly, making friends wherever she goes. You admire her for that, wanting to have the same trait. Because while she plays with all the kids in the playground, you can only watch the other mothers sit together, talking about everything and nothing. Part of you wants to just go up to them, ask them if you could join them, but the other part of you feels anxious, scared of getting judged, the way you always do. Being a mom so young has only brought you trouble, wherever you go. And while Nuri is the best thing that has happened to you, others seem to not support that opinion.

If you got a dollar for every time someone told you that you would destroy your kids future, or that you are way too young to have this kind of responsibility, you would be rich by now. Everywhere you go, if it’s grocery shopping, getting gas, at restaurants, people try to give you advice or comment on the things that apparently went wrong with your life, without even knowing you or your story. You heard everything, from your parents not raising you right or having daddy issues because your dad left you when you were young, to being whore that slept around until she eventually got pregnant.

But they don’t know that it was just a simple accident. That it was two teenagers having their first times together, being nervous and not really knowing what to do. It was two teenagers who didn’t think and had to deal with the consequences of their moment together. Well, at least one did. It wasn’t your parents’ fault; it wasn’t you sleeping around. It was just something that happened, unplanned but not unwanted.

And they don’t know that ever since Nuri came into your life, everything felt like it had a purpose. You felt like you had a purpose. Being a mother has made you find out who you truly are, and what you truly want. It made you more aware of the process of growing up, and made you realize all the stupid things you did as a teenager. It helped you through the hardest times and gave you something to hold on to, a reason to fight. Nuri is the reason you wake up every day, the reason you can get out of bed and the reason you finally have a routine in your life.

And you truly believe that it was meant to happen. You were meant to get pregnant with her and build up a life for the both of you.

“If someone will make a lot of friends, it’s you. I just know that everyone will love you, just how I know that I love you, so so much.”

-

It’s a weird feeling, picking your daughter up from her first day of school. You watch all the kids run up to their parents, excited little faces, already going on and on about everything that happened while they spend a few hours apart.

And while you’re waiting for your daughter to exit the school, you realize you can’t wait to be with her again, to hear her tell all the stories about her experiences on her first day, to get ice cream with her and make necklaces and bracelets. You realize that this must be harder for you than for her. She doesn’t realize the quickness in which she grows up, but you do.

It feels like yesterday when she was still in your belly. It feels like yesterday when she took her first steps, falling face first to the ground. It feels like yesterday when she said her first words, going up to every stranger in the grocery store and proudly repeating that word to them. It feels like yesterday when she lost her favorite toy and cried for two days straight. When you threw a little goodbye party for that toy with her and explained to her that maybe another child found her toy and gave it a new home, only to find the toy four days later under your bed. And it feels like yesterday when she came into your room, telling you she had a nightmare. She crawled into your bed and shortly before sleep took over, she whispered that you are the best mommy in the whole world.

All these memories start crashing over you, one by one. Tears fill your eyes yet again, and it takes everything in you to blink them away, not wanting to break down in front of all these strangers.

“Mommy.”, you hear her voice before you see her. Turning in the direction of the voice, you see your daughter running up to you, her arms wide open. You kneel down, opening your arms yourself and a bright smile lighting up all your features.

“Hey, my sweet girl.”, you say as you wrap her tightly into your arms. All the sadness you felt a moment ago washes away the moment you relish in the feeling of having the most important person in your life in your arms. “How was your first day?”

“It was so amazing, mommy. We learned a new song and ate a lot of fruits together. I made a lot of friends, and all my teachers are so nice.” You can’t help but smile brightly at the excitement of your daughter. “Do we have some time before we go home? I want you to meet my teacher. He is still in the classroom, so we have to hurry.”

Before you can answer, Nuri already takes off with your hand in hers, leading you inside the school and to her classroom. You marvel at all the colorful decoration, the helpful quotes and the artistic pictures. “Hello, Mr. Sim.”, your daughter says, excitedly waving at her teacher.

You take another step into the classroom, looking for the man that is busy packing his bag. But when he turns around and shows your daughter a bright smile, it almost takes your breath away. You never expected a teacher to look this… gorgeous. Mr. Sim looks young, your age probably, his skin is soft and glowing, his eyes a deep shade of brown and his black hair framing his perfect face. He has full, pink lips and a smile so bright, it resembles a puppy.

“Hey, Nuri. What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be on your way home?” Even his voice sounds like it was dipped into honey and laced with cream and sprinkles. It does something to you, you haven’t felt in a really long time.

“I wanted you to meet my mommy.”, she says, pointing over at you. And the moment Mr. Sim’s eyes meet you, you can feel something in the air change. A uncuttable tension fills the room, and you can’t stop staring at him. You can’t stop looking at his perfect face and his perfect eyes and his perfect lips. You feel ashamed for feeling this way, for thinking about your daughter’s teacher that way, but you can’t help yourself. “Mr. Sim this is my mommy.”

“Hi.”, he says, his voice breaking with this simple word. “I’m Mr. Sim, but you can call me Jake.” Jake wipes his hand on his pants before reaching it out for you to take, which you do. Gently you place your hand in his, giving it a soft shake, almost sighing at the feeling of this small contact. Jake has big hands, long fingers and veins traveling up his arms, but his skin is so soft and smooth it almost doesn’t seem fair.

“I’m Y/N, Nuri’s mom.” You almost punch yourself for sounding so weak and pathetic. The last thing you want is for Nuri’s teacher to know what an effect his mere presence has on you. “Are you Nuri’s class teacher?”

“For now, yeah. I’m a substitute teacher since their actual teacher got into an accident and has to rest for probably a few months. I was meant to start at another school but got transferred here last minute.” You could listen to him speak for hours. “But you probably don’t care about that.” He chuckles softly, letting a hand nervously glide through his silky hair. “What you probably do care about is that we have a parents’ conference next week. I wanted to send an e-mail to every parent, but you know, seeing as you are here, I just wanted to let you know beforehand.”

You nod at him, showing him a small appreciative smile. “Thank you, Jake. I will see what I can do to come. Maybe someone will have the time to look after Nuri for a few hours.”

Jake nods one time, then another, before letting his hand fall to his side. “It’s a pretty important conference, seeing that this has a lot of information about the first school year. Maybe her father can look after her, so you can come.” You can hear the lingering note in his sentence, subconsciously knowing that he’s testing the waters.

“Nuri’s father is not in her life.”, you say, looking down at your daughter who only smiles up at you. “It’s just us, right, sweet pee?”

“Yep.”, she says, nodding her head a few times. “Our house is a girls’ only zone.” Jake chuckles at the words of the little girl in front of him. He reaches into the pocket of his jeans and takes out his phone to hand it to you.

“You can see if you find someone to look after her for a few hours and if not, you can just text me and we will find a solution. Is that okay with you?” Stunned, you take his phone, seeing his contact list already open.

“Yeah, yeah of course. Thank you so much, Mr. Sim.”

“Jake.”, he tells you again, a gentle smile resting on his lips. “You can just call me Jake, okay?”

-

“God, it was so embarrassing.”, Jake says as he drinks a sip from his coke. “I kept on rambling and stuttering. Like my hands got all sweaty and I couldn’t even really look her in the eyes.”

He hears his friends laughing at him to which he just frowns. Jake knows the way he acted around you, his student’s mom, wasn’t appropriate, but it was like the moment he saw you his brain stopped working. All the blood rushed out of it, leaving him stupid and unable to form thought through sentences. It was like he was sixteen all over again. A teenager nervous around pretty girls, unable to talk to them without making a foul out of himself.

“Dude, you seem down bad for her.”, Jay, his friend, says, not being able to hide the amusement in his voice. It’s been a while since the boys heard any stories about women in Jake’s life. Jake always tried to keep in love life as clear as possible, only looking for something serious and whenever he noticed the other person wasn’t reciprocating the same feeling, he ended whatever it was between him and the other person. Ever since Jake was young, he had one wish and that was to be in love. To love unconditionally, find someone who feels the same way and spend the rest of his life with them. To marry, have kids and grow old together. That’s what Jake always wanted, and still does to this day. But finding someone with the same wish turned out to be harder than he thought it would.

“But doesn’t she have a kid? Doesn’t that mean she has a husband, or boyfriend?”, Sunghoon asks, joining in on the conversation.

Jake just shakes his head, sighing as he lets his free hand nervously glide through his hair. “No, I already asked her. It’s apparently just her and her daughter. But I don’t know where the father is, didn’t think it would be appropriate to ask her that.”

“Wait. You asked her about a man in her life?”, Heesungs’ eyes are wide, and he has to swallow the laugh that threatens to leave his lips. “Bro, there is no way, you had the balls to do that. She definitely knows that you are interested in her.”

“What?”, Jake exclaims, bewilderedly looking at his friends. “What do you mean she knows I am interested in her?”

“Bro, you asked if she has a boyfriend or not, that’s the first sign of testing the waters, checking if she’s single. Everyone knows that and I bet she does too.”

Jake lets his head fall into his hands, a frustrated sigh leaving his lips. “She probably thinks I am a weirdo. God, what if she doesn’t want her child to be in a class with a teacher that was shamelessly hitting on her? What if she tells the other parents and I’m going to get kicked out of that school?”

“Jake.”, Sunghoon puts a comforting hand on his friend’s shoulder. “I doubt she would do that. And come on, maybe she is interested in you as well. Look at you, you are an attractive man. Don’t overthink this whole thing, okay?”

-

“And they lived happier ever after. The end.”, you finish reading the bedtime story for Nuri, closing the book and putting it on her nightstand.

“Mommy?”, you hear her quiet voice asking for you. Immediately, you take her hand, showing her a soft smile. She looks so small with her eyes just half open, tiredness written all over her face.

“Yes, sweety?”

“Do you like Mr. Sim?” The question surprises you, makes you take a few deep breaths before feeling ready to answer.

“I think he is a lovely person. He seems very sweet to you. Why do you ask that?”

Nuri adjusts her position, trying to open her eyes more to look at you clearly. “I think you are in love with him. Mrs. Kim said that when someone is in love with another person, they get very nervous and start stuttering in their sentences. She told me that you can’t stop looking at the person and that you seem kind of starstruck. Just like the way I look at ice cream.” She hugs her little teddy bear closer to her chest before continuing. “That’s how you looked today when you looked at Mr. Sim.”

You can’t help but shake your head as you hear the words your elderly neighbor has told your daughter. But it shouldn’t surprise you. Mrs. Kim has always been a hopeless romantic, going on and on about how you will find the right guy for you, that you just have to be patient. She has been watching over Nuri ever since she was a little baby, and it was bound to happen that at some point she would fill your daughter’s head with this nonsense.

“I am not in love with Mr. Sim, baby. I don’t even know him.”

“But you could get to know him. And then you will fall in love with him and live happily ever after with him, just like in the stories you read me every night.” You can hear something underlying in your daughter’s voice. Something she hides as she speaks those words.

“Nuri, why do you want me to fall in love with Mr. Sim?”, you ask her, squeezing her hand softly. You can see the sadness forming on her little face and it breaks your heart seeing her like this. Whatever it is that she was thinking at that moment, must have been on her mind for a long time.

“Ever since last year the kids in kindergarten asked me why I don’t have a dad. Every kid there has a dad, just not me. I want to have a dad, too, just like all the other children do.” Small tears start dripping down her cheeks, and you can’t hide the ones threatening to leave your eyes too.

“Oh, my sweet girl. Come here.” You gently pull her into a hug, cradling her head in your hands. “Why didn’t you tell me about it?”

“I didn’t want to make you sad. I know that talking about my dad makes you very sad, and I don’t want you to be sad, mommy.” Twice, you felt your heart break within a few minutes. You hadn’t realized the effect this theme has on you, the sadness that still lingers whenever you think about her father. You hadn’t realized that your daughter noticed that. Your empathetic six-year-old daughter. A part of you feels proud of her for being such a sweet considerate little girl, but the other part is scared of how much other stuff she has noticed.

“Nuri, I am so sorry for not talking a lot about your father with you. I promise I will answer you every question about him in the future. And I am not sad when you mention him, okay? It is so important for you to communicate your feelings with me. When something worries you, you can always come to me and tell me about it, no matter what, okay?” You can feel her nod against your chest, her little hands wiping away the tears on her face. “Good. Now try to sleep, sweety. You need to have a lot of energy for school tomorrow. I love you, Nuri.”

“I love you too, mommy.”

-

You feel nervous as you park at the school building. There are several cars there already, all parents who will also be at the conference. Anxiety builds up in your belly, the fears of judgement towards you rising inside of you. This happened a lot at parent conferences when Nuri was still in kindergarten. The parents would be delighted to see you at first, asking if you are her sister but when they find out you are her mom, all you got was weird looks and whispers from other parents. It made you almost skip every conference after that, but you had to go, for Nuri’s sake. So, it’s understandable why your hands are shaking as you enter the school.

You dropped Nuri off at Mrs. Kim’s appartement, not before telling her to stop bringing Nuri’s hope of you getting a boyfriend up. A part of you knows that Mrs. Kim didn’t mean it with any bad intention, but you still don’t want Nuri to think that she will get a dad. Her real father is still uninterested to be in her life, and you don’t think that will change any time soon, and bringing a new father figure into her life is something you are still afraid of. People these days are not looking for serious commitment, they get scared when they hear about the child in your life, and they leave before anything serious can even start to develop. And the last thing you want is to introduce someone to Nuri’s life, just to have them leave a few weeks later. You don’t want to do that to her.

“Y/N.”, you hear someone call out for you and when you turn around you are greeted with the bright smile of no other than Sim Jake. “You made it. I am so happy to see you.”

“Yeah, sorry for not texting you. I kind of forgot about it with the whole stress I was having the best few days.” Jake seems to only smile brighter at your words, one of his hands nervously scratching the back of his neck. It gives you a moment to take him in. He is wearing a baggy pair of blue jeans with a black button up shirt, the arms of his shirt rolled up, exposing his arms. You can’t help but to let your eyes trail to his hands, his beautiful hands, but before you let yourself trail off too long, you let your eyes wander back to his, only to be met by a smirking Jake. Jake noticed your wandering gaze, the way your eyes shamelessly roamed his body. And he can’t say he isn’t flattered.

“Don’t worry, Y/n. I’m just glad to see you again. I hope you are, too.” You can hear the shift in his voice, the confidence and pride in it. And it makes a shiver run down your spine. “But we should go inside the classroom, before the parents get worried where I am.”

For the whole conference, you try to stay focused, to take notes and remember everything Jake was telling the parents, but your mind always drifted off. You got lost staring at the way he was talking so animatedly with his hands, biting his lip, and licking it with his tongue after every sentence, and how he brushes his hair out of his eyes every few seconds. And looking around, you notice that you don’t seem to be the only one staring at Jake. Some other mothers in the room developed a certain fascination with the young teacher, tugging their hair behind their ears and looking at him with a starstruck gaze. Watching them, you notice that you must look the same way when you look at Jake, just how Nuri told you. And it makes an embarrassed flush appear on your cheeks. You should really get yourself together. This is the teacher of your daughter, you shouldn’t be thinking about him in that way, shouldn’t be staring at him with such hungry eyes.

So, when you Jake announces the end of the conference, you can’t help but to hastily back your things into your back and make your way to head out of the classroom. “Y/N.” But Jake’s voice stops you from that. “Can you stay back a bit? I want to talk to you.” You turn around and give him a quick and shy nod, before sitting down on one of the chairs again and waiting for all the other parents to leave. Which turns out to take longer than you thought it would, almost all of the moms line up in front of him, asking him questions and wanting his attention.

Every now and then you see the look on Jake’s face, the tight-lipped smile and the alarming eyes, seeming almost uncomfortable. But you could be wrong about that impression.

Finally, the last one left, leaving only you and Jake in the classroom. He turns to you, a soft and honest looking smile on his lips. “Thank you for waiting, Y/N. I really appreciate that.” You smile back at him, standing up so you can walk over to him.

“Why did you want me to stay back?”, you ask him as you stop in front of him, looking up at him with your wide eyes. Jake seems to be losing the ability to talk again, your eyes driving him crazy. You give him the type of look that makes him want to press you against the next wall and kiss you until your lungs give out.

“I wanted to ask you how you liked the conference.” His voice is low and coarse, and he has to clear his throat a few times to get rid of the lump in it.

“You wanted me to stay back just so you could ask me how I liked the parents conference?”, you ask him, eyebrows raised in a question.

“Yes?”, he answers, his yes almost sounding like a question itself. He scratches the back of his neck again, feeling suddenly so self-conscious. “I mean it was my first time doing something like this and I guess I just wanted to know how I was. You know, if I came across as nervous or insecure.”

You shake your head at him, a constant smile on your lips. “Jake, you did so well. Everyone in this room liked you, and you seemed so confident when you talked about everything. Believe me, no one could have done it better than you.”

Jake feels his heart swell at your words, not having thought you would say something like that to him. It has been a long time since Jake has gotten praised in such a way, and it does something to him, something he can’t admit to himself.

“Thank you.”, he mumbles, a faint bit of blush on his cheeks. “Hearing that means a lot to me.”

You gently squeeze his arm, showing him another bright smile. “No need to thank me. I am just telling you the truth.” You take a step back again, hand sinking back to your side. “But I sadly have to go now. I have to pick up Nari since it’s a school night and I don’t want her to stay awake for too long.”

“Yeah, sure, of course.”, Jake quickly says, walking to his bag and starting to pack in his things. “Give me a second, I will walk you to your car.”

-

This has been the third time in four months that you were too late to pick up Nuri from school. With the newfound time, your boss thought it was a good idea to give you more work, and normally you would decline this amount of work, since it gives you less time that you can spend with Nuri. But more work also means more money, and you need it more desperately than ever lately. The rent in your apartment got raised, fuel got more expensive and all the school stuff that you had to buy also didn’t make your bank account look good.

With your head lowered and guilt tripping down every part of your body, you walk into Nuri’s school. As you step into her classroom, your eyes widen. Jake is sitting beside Nuri on a desk, drawing inside a book with her, while talking to her with a soft smile on his face.

“There you are Ms. Park.”, you can hear the voice of Nuri’s other teacher Mrs. Song.  “We waited for you for 30 minutes now. This is the third time this has happened, and I cannot tell you how disappointed I am with your punctuality. I get that you are young, but that doesn’t give you the right to abandon your own child for whatever party activity you have to do.”

Almost immediately you feel the guilt replace itself with anger. You know that picking up your child too late is irresponsible, but claiming you abandon your child and go partying is reaching too high. You feel like you’re seventeen-year-old you all over again, when everyone told you that you won’t be able to raise a child, that your child will grow up traumatized, wishing they had all the things other kids her age have. They told you to give Nuri up for adoption, that it would be the best possibility at your age.

“I am so sorry I was late picking up Nuri, again. But your accusations are what are disappointing here. As a teacher you shouldn’t have such prejudices against parents. Yes, I am young, but that doesn’t mean I am not able to love and provide for my daughter. Live on day in my shoes and see how well you can manage it.”

A short beat of silence fills the room, and before Mrs. Song can open her mouth to say another word, Jake speaks up first. “Mrs. Song, how about you take Nuri to one of the vending machines and get her a snack, while I talk to Ms. Park.”

With a heavy sigh, Mrs. Song nods, taking Nuri’s hand and walking out of the room with her, leaving you and Jake alone. “Y/n.” He gently says as he walks over to you. And there is something about his voice, so gentle and caring and something about his presence so comfortable and safe, that makes the tears in your eyes break their way free to roll over your cheeks. “Oh, come here.”

Jake gently pulls you into his arms, one hand on your back, comfortingly stroking it, and the other on your head. You wrap your own arms tightly around him and allow yourself for the first time in months to let it all out, the stress, the hurt, the pain, the longing, everything. A sob wracks through your whole body, and it breaks Jake’s heart. He doesn’t know how to help you, what to do to take all this pain away from you. So, all he does is pull you closer – if that’s even possible – and whisper encouraging words into your ear.

“Do you want to talk about it?”, Jake gently asks as he pulls away from the hug, taking your face in his hands and wiping the tears on your face away with his thumbs.

You close your eyes for a few seconds, trying to calm down from your little breakdown, before starting to talk to him. “Everything has just been so hard lately. I can barely pay rent, I have to work longer and harder to earn all the money I need, and Nuri hasn’t stopped talking and asking questions about her dad. I try to act unbothered by it, but if your daughter talks about the boy that has not only broken your heart but left you alone when you most needed him, it makes you relive it all over again. And I just feel like the worst mom on earth for not being able to give Nuri the live she deserves. Everyone is telling me that over and over again, what if they are right?”

“No.”, Jake says shaking his head. He cups your cheek with one hand, the other one taking its place on your waist. “Listen to me. You are an amazing mom, Y/n. God, half of the people that say those mean things want to be just like you. You sacrificed so much to provide for your daughter and that is more than just admirable. You should be proud of yourself, not doubt yourself. Nuri loves you. In fact, you are all she ever talks about. She admires you so much, Y/n, and she loves you with all her heart. That’s what matters the most.”

More tears start to stream down your cheeks, and you whisper a quiet ‘thank you’ to Jake, before pulling him back into your arms. He holds you close, leaving a gentle kiss at your temple every now and then. “How about we get Nuri and then we go out for ice cream? I don’t want to leave you alone right now.”

You nod against his chest, not ready to let go of him yet. “Thank you, Jake. For everything.”

-

Something changed between you and Jake after that day. It started with texts, him checking up on you every now and then, seeing if you need help. Then it developed to calls, once a week, talking about your feelings and worries, but those calls quickly got more frequent and happened every night after you put Nuri down to sleep. And you don’t know how it happened or when it happened, but now you find yourself getting ready to meet him for the first time in another place other than Nuri’s school.

“I think the purple top looks prettier on you, mommy.” Nuri says from where she sits on your bed. You have been changing outfits for an hour now, never finding the right thing to wear.

“You think so?”, you ask as you put it over put it on yet again. “I think you are right. This should be good enough.” You turn around to face Nuri, just to see her snuggled up with her teddy bear, big eyes watching you attentively. “You ready to spend some time with Mrs. Kim, sweety?”

You are answered with a wild nod and a bright smile. You know you could just take her with you, Jake wouldn’t mind that at all, but there is a part of you that really wants to spend some time with him alone. Just you and him.

You shouldn’t feel selfish about it, but you do. You feel like you put your own needs before your daughters’ ones. You know it’s far reached since this is the first time in a while that Mrs. Kim has to look after Nuri, but you hate depending on people. You hate having to drop Nuri off somewhere when you have plans. You hate that you can’t do this alone.

“Hey, pretty girl.”, Jake says as he sits down beside you on the picknick blanket you pulled out for the two of you, a bright smile is on his beautiful lips. “Can I ask you why exactly you wanted to meet here?”

You look at the ocean in front of you, at the soft waves crashing against the shore, glowing under the soft light of the sun peeking through the clouds. There is something magical about this place, something you can’t describe in words.

“I used to come here all the time when I was pregnant with Nuri. It was the only place that seemed to calm me down. I guess I just wanted to share that with you. You have become a very comforting part of my life, and I just thought you would like this place as much as I do.”

There is something in Jake eyes that changes the moment you speak those words. They seem to go lighter, wider, like a little puppy. It makes all the blood in your body rush right up in your cheeks and lets goosebumps rise over your skin. It makes you think about things you aren’t supposed to think, feel things that definitely aren’t appropriate to be thought in public.

Jake takes one of your hands, giving it a tight squeeze before sighing gently and looking out into the sea. You follow his gaze, admiring the sand glittering in the sunlight and listening to the sounds of the seals far off on the water. Both of you relish in the tranquility of the moment, no words needed.

“It’s my birthday next week,” Jake says after a few minutes. “I am throwing a small party. Just me and my three friends and I wanted to know if you want to come as well.”

You look at him only to be met with his hopeful, big eyes. He shows you an encouraging smile, and for a moment you unlearn the ability to speak. “Uhm, yeah, sure. Is it okay if I bring Nuri with me? I hate having to leave her at Mrs. Kims place all the time.”

“Of course, I was assuming she was going to come as well.” Your heart swells at his words, appreciating his attentive soul. You know how much Jake grew fond of Nuri. He talks about her approvements in school all the time, telling you about funny jokes she makes or impressive questions she asks. Jake tells you how smart and polite she is, and how she always tries to include everyone into the little friend group she built. He also tells you how well you raised her, and how proud he is of you for that, but that’s not something you want to focus on, because it makes you think about inappropriate things.

“Then we will definitely be there.” Jake shows you another one of his bright smiles, white teeth on his display. Sometimes when you look at him, through the phone or in real life, you wonder what it is the two of you have. You wonder if it is just a friendship the two of you are building up, or if it is more than that. There are moments- you don’t know if you are imagining them or if they are real- where the tension between you heightens, so much it could be cut with a knife. There are moments in which it feels like if one of you makes a move something is going to happen, something big and heavy. There are moments in which you think that this could be it. This could be yours forever. It sounds crazy, farfetched, but Jake is the type of person you always wanted to spend the rest of your life with. He is the kind of person, you know would treat you right, the kind of person that would have a good influence on Nuri. You know you two haven’t fully gotten to know each other. Jake may be in a completely different chapter of his life. He may not want to commit to something so serious, especially since he is only at the start of his teaching job, or because he is too young to think about having a family. You don’t know what this is between you guys and while you desperately want an answer to that question, you don’t want to risk losing whatever it is the two of your built up in the past weeks.

But when you look at Jake again you can feel the same tension, heavy and thick. You notice his eyes darkening, the way he licks his lips more often and glances down at your own every few seconds. One move, it will just take one move, and one of you is going to break the distance between the two of you.

Jake gently places one hand on your thigh, and you can feel his warmth burning through the material of your jeans and right onto your skin. You have to swallow the gasp that threatens to leave your lips, shocked at what such a little touch from him does to you. His hand travels further up and it almost feels impossible for you to think clearly. Every last piece of sanity left your body the moment Jake touched you and all you can focus on is him. Him and his plump lips, him and his big hands that are touching you in the most alluring way. And him and his big brown eyes, pulling you in and hypnotizing you.

“Y/n.”, he whispers, voice hoarse and rough. Suddenly, his face is closer, lips almost touching yours. You just have to lean forward a little more, but you are frozen, lost in his scent. You want him, you need him. Everything inside of you screams for him, in a way you have never experienced. Your body is pulled towards him like a magnet, and you need him to take you home to him right now. 

But before any of you can suggest that a voice calls out for Jake in the background. Almost immediately the two of you pull away from each other, awkwardly looking around. “Hey Jake. I knew that was your big head.” A man, around your age, approaches the two of you. He is tall, with black hair and a few prominent moles on his face. His smile reveals two little fangs which you find quite adorable.

“Oh, sorry. I didn’t see you have any company.” The man awkwardly glances at the two of you, noticing that he just interrupted something between the two of you.

“All good, bro.”, Jake says, not being able to hide the disappointment in his voice. “Y/n, this is Sunghoon. One of my friends I told you about.” You show Sunghoon a polite smile, reaching one hand out to for him to take.

“It’s nice to meet you, Sunghoon.” Sunghoon can’t hide the surprised look on his face as he takes your hand and gives it a quick shake.

“Hold on, you are Y/n?” You nod your head at him, confused as to why he was reacting like that towards you. “Wow, I heard a lot about you.” From the corner of your eyes, you can see Jakes head falling into his hands, as he lets out a frustrated grunt. A smug grin appears on your lips as you cock your head at the boy in front of you.

“I hope you only heard good stuff.”

“You best believe it was only good stuff. Jake won’t stop talking about you. All day long he goes on about ‘Y/n is so-“ But before he can continue his sentence, Jake slaps one of his hands on the mouth of his friend, shutting him up indefinitely.

“That’s enough from you, Sunghoon. Man, you never know when to shut up.” Jake mumbles that last part, but you hear it anyway. All the doubt you had in your mind earlier leaves your head. Maybe Jake does want you the way you want him. Maybe he really is different than all the other man you met.

“Well as much as I wanted to hear whatever your friend had to say, I have to go now. It was nice meeting you, Sunghoon. And we will call later, right?” As you ask the last question, you look at Jake, eyebrows raised, waiting for his answer.

“Yes, of course. I will call you.”

“Okay, then see you later.” You give Jake a quick kiss on the cheek and show Sunghoon a last goodbye smile, before grabbing your things and walking to your car, leaving an embarrassed Jake and a widely grinning Sunghoon behind.

“So, this is Y/n, huh? Man, now I get why you won’t stop talking about her. She is hot.”

“Hey, come on. Don’t talk about her like that.” Jake shakes his head, blowing out some air from his lungs and closing his eyes for a moment to clear his still foggy mind. He still hasn’t recovered from the moment you two had just a few minutes ago. Jake was so close to kissing you, so close to asking you to go somewhere private, because he knows you felt it too. He knows you could feel the tension in the air, the arousal dripping from your body. He knows it, and he could feel it by the way your body was reacting to him. “She is so much more than just hot.”

“I’m just saying.” Sunghoon shrugs his shoulders, reaching one hand out to help Jake stand back up. “I’m glad you finally found someone, Jake. Happiness looks good on you.”

-

Nuri and you spent three hours baking and decorating the cupcakes for Jakes’ birthday party, and judging by the way Jakes friends stuff them into their mouths, it was worth the effort.

At first you were worries bringing Nuri to a birthday party with three strange men she doesn’t know but watching her giggle at the cream smeared faces of Jakes’ friends, all the worry flew right of the window. From the moment you entered the apartment the boys made it their life mission to entertain Nuri. They went from playing tea party, to performing dance routines, to laying on the ground and acting like they are mermaids. There was not one single wish Nuri expressed, that they didn’t grant in a heartbeat. She wants them to put on lipstick and towels as dresses to make a fashion show. Done. She wants them to act like knights and protect the princess- her- from a dangerous attack. Done. She wants them to carry her around, spin her in circles and throw her high up in the air every five minutes. Done.

And you can see that Nuri enjoys all the attention she is getting. She thrives in it, and it gives you a sense of relief.

“They are so good with children.”, you tell Jake who is sitting beside you, watching as Nuri counts down from ten to search for Sunghoon, Jay and Heeseung in a game of hide and seek.

“They are.”, Jake says, resting his head on your shoulder. “They all want children someday. We had that conversation before, so I knew that they would also love it when Nuri comes over.”

“And you?”, you ask Jake, looking down at him. “Do you want children?”

You can feel him smile from where he has his face buried in your neck. He leaves a gentle kiss at the space between your shoulder and your neck, before lifting his head to look into your eyes. “Yes.” There is no sign of hesitation in his voice, his eyes reflecting his sincerity. “Yes, I really want kids.”

“Now, or in a few years?”

“I don’t care.”, he says, grabbing one of your hands, and playing with your fingers just for a few seconds, before intertwining your fingers. “If now or in five years, I’m ready to have kids. I’ve always wanted them. Why would you think I work at an elementary school?” You can feel the weight lifting from your shoulders. This question has been bothering you for some time now, and now that it’s finally out and is answer is so fitting, you can’t fight the smile lighting up your face.

“Hey, you two love birds. I hate to interrupt your little moment, but I just wanted to ask you if it’s okay that we take Nuri to the playground a street down from here?”, Heeseung asks, looking straight at you. “Ever since we told her about the playground, she has been begging us to take her there. I swear we won’t be long, and we will take good care of her. I swear, I will never leave her out of my sight and stay by her side the whole time.”

This isn’t something you would normally do. You wouldn’t trust someone you barely know to take your child somewhere, but it’s something about the way they took care of her today that makes you trust them. And you trust Jake. You trust him to know what kind of people to introduce to your daughter. “Of course, yes.”, you tell Heseeung, smiling as you see the excitement on his face. “Just make sure to be back by dinner and to not let her on the swing for too long. She always gets sick when she’s on it for a longer time.” With one last nod and a ‘We promise to take the best care in the world about her’, they are out of the door.

It takes a few seconds for you to realize that you and Jake are alone. And it takes another few seconds for you to face the man sitting beside you. There it again, the look in his eyes, making you weak in his knees.

1, 2, 3 seconds pass and Jake can’t handle this silence anymore. He can’t handle the way you look at him and what it does to him. With one tug, Jake pulls you closer and it doesn’t take him long before he presses his lips against yours.

This is different than any kiss you have ever experienced. Jake kisses with a passion, with a longing, you have never felt before. His hands are on your body, in your hair, holding your cheeks. He pulls you onto his lap, never once stopping the heated kiss. You have your arms around his neck, pulling him closer to you, needing to feel him everywhere.

There is an urgency in the kiss, a need to big it’s going to explode. Every pent of thought or longing the both of you have kept to yourself over the past week flows right into the kiss. It’s wild, passionate and so indescribable good. You can feel it tingling all over your body, waking up needs you didn’t know you have, thoughts you always tried to repress. Jakes hands wander over your body again, your thighs, your hips, your waist, your back. And it makes you moan softly into the kiss, breaking free just to take a deep breath which gives Jake enough time to explore the soft skin of your neck. He trails down kisses, stopping at the point where he feels your pulse and licking the sensitive skin.

Another soft moan slips out of your lips, and it drives Jake crazy. It makes his head spin and takes his breath away. There is no clear thought in his head anymore, everything is clouded by the pleasure of this moment. His hands pull you closer to him, eyes closing at the feeling of you, and you have to take another deep breath before whispering your next words.

“Take me to your room, Sim Jake.”

-

“You’re so beautiful.”, Jake whispers as he raises his hand to softly stroke your hair out of your face.

“Good morning to you too.” You have been waking up to the sight of Jake for the past few months now, and no matter how many times you see him like this, you never get used to the sight. His hair messy from the night’s sleep, his naked chest shining in the morning sun and his puffy pink lips puffy from the night before. He is gorgeous, ethereal even. No word describes the beauty he is carrying.

Jake pulls you into his arms so that your head lays on his chest and his arms are tightly around you. “I will never get used to this.”, he whispers. “This is a dream come true.”

“What is a dream come true?”

“You. This. Waking up next to you, getting to spend every day with you and Nuri. This, this is perfect.” You close your eyes, letting this moment sink in for a while. You capture it, take a mental photo and put it in a special box somewhere in your brain, so when things get hard again, this moment will remind you how easy life can be.

“I love you.”, you whisper softly, kissing his chest a few times before laying your head back down on it.

“I love you too, Y/n.” His voice is louder, clearer, like he never wants to hide those words from you, ever. “And I want this, forever. I know I have to move away soon for my job at another school, but we will make this work. I want to make this work. It’s just a two-hour drive, that’s practically nothing.”

You lift your head to look at Jake, admiring the soft glow of his skin. There is an ounce of doubt lingering in the air. You know that his move will complicate things for you. Visiting will be hard with Nuri having to go to school and you having to work every day, but there are always weekends. And if Jake believes that the two of you can make it work, then you will.

So, you nod your head, scooting up to leave a few kisses on his plump, puffy lips. “We can make this work. We will have to.”

-

The sun is shining brightly as you pull up to the school to pick Nuri up. Normally you would wait in the car until she walks out of the school, but since Nuri had an ‘end of the school’ project today, she wanted you to come in and take a look at what she made.

Life has been good, better than good, actually. Everything has been perfect. Jake had become a constant part of your lives, visiting a few times a week and taking the two of you out on trips. Nuri and Jake’s friends- well your friends as well now- have grown incredibly close. She doesn’t talk about anything else other than the boys and how fun it is to spend time with them. They have grown closer to you too, finding a weird kind of solace whenever you are around them.

Everything is the way you always wanted it to be. And sometimes you catch yourself thinking that everything is too perfect, that something is bound to happen any time soon to destroy the little perfect life you build yourself. But you never thought it would happen this soon.

As you walk inside the school, you search for the classroom where they exhibited the projects, stopping when you hear some voices not far from you. You know it’s rude to eavesdrop but when you hear your name in the conversation, you can’t help but to stop and listen.

“Yeah, apparently she and Jake are in a relationship.”

“What? Really? She is really trying to fuck herself to the top, isn’t she?”

“I mean we could have seen it coming, right? The way she always looked at him, like she wanted to eat him alive. It was concerning. It’s a real wonder he didn’t run away when he still could, but now she got him all under her claws.”

“I have known her since our daughters were in kindergarten, and she has always been like this. Whoring around and not caring about her daughter.”

“I mean I knew she was still young and immature, but that is shocking. First, she carelessly gets knocked up at seventeen and then instead of maturing she stays a naïve little girl who fucks her daughter’s teacher. If I were here, I would be embarrassed.”

“It’s no wonder she has no support from her parents anymore. I wouldn’t support my daughter if she were a disgrace to the family like she is.”

“I mean all that aside, I think she should take the time to mature first. She is still so young, not fit to be a mother. Maybe all she needs is a clear mind before she faces the hardships of life. Maybe no one taught her how to be an adult yet.”

“Are you defending her?”

“No, of course I am not. I’m just saying she needs a wake-up call. Something that will help her get all the horniness out of her mind and get her to take better care of her daughter.”

The world has stopped. You could feel it. The air feels heavier, time doesn’t go on anymore and all sounds went quiet. Everything has stopped, except for the thoughts in your head. A dark heavy cloud forms over your head, raining down on you with an intensity, you didn’t feel in a very long time.

Maybe you jinxed it. Maybe your constant worry of something ruining your perfect little life was the one thing that ruined it all together. You should have known it.

The worst thing is knowing that they are right, not with everything of course. You aren’t ready yet. There is so much you still need to learn, so many lessons you haven’t faced yet. You aren’t ready yet. You need to mature; become a proper adult and you really aren’t ready.

You noticed it a while ago, the lingering feeling in your chest whenever Jake was around, the nagging question in the back of your head. You noticed that there was a part of you- a part that grew stronger and stronger with time- that simply wasn’t ready for a relationship yet. And while whatever the women were saying was rude and uncalled for, they are right. They spoke out what you were too scared of admitting. They spoke out what you were too scared was going to ruin all the things you built up.

You can feel it now too, the pain consuming your heart, filling your lungs, and coursing through your veins. The tears filling your eyes, the stop stuck in your throat. But you can’t let it out, not here, not now. First, you have to be a mother. First, you have to look at Nuri’s project, tell her how proud you are of her and take her home to be the mother she deserves. Later, when she’s in bed, that’s when you can let it all out.

“Excuse me.”, you say, your voice surprisingly stable and strong. All four women turn around in a second, looking at you with wide eyes and open mouths. “I was searching for the classroom where they exhibit the school projects. Would you mind telling me where it is? I don’t want to get caught, what did you call it? Ah, yes, whoring around.”

A loud gasp leaves one of the mothers’ mouths and it takes all the strength in your body not to laugh out loud at their faces. One of the other women points in the direction of the classroom for you, gulping almost visibly as you show her a bright smile.

“Thank you so much.”, you say. As you walk past them, you stop, something nagging in the back of your head. “And don’t be jealous that my needs get satisfied every night, I bet your husbands will keep up eventually.”

-

You know that ignoring Jake’s calls wouldn’t be a good idea, but you didn’t think that he would turn up at your doorstep at 10 pm shortly before you were heading to bed.

You spent the past days thinking about your situation, about your relationship with Jake and your and Nuri’s future. Over and over again did you go through all the solutions in your head, trying to figure out what’s right for you, what you want. Because for once, just one time in your life, you have to think about yourself, what you need.

You thought that it wouldn’t take long for Jake to turn up at your doorstep, but seeing him standing in front of you, hair messy, cheeks tinted in a soft red and a worried look on his face, makes you want to change your mind all over again.

“Hey.”, he says, showing you a forced smile. “Are you okay? I was worried. You’ve been ignoring my calls. Did I do something wrong? Did I say something that hurt you? Because if I did then please tell me so I can make it up to you again. I swear the last thing I want is to lose you, but I can’t make it up to you if you don’t talk to me, if you don’t tell me what I did to make you shut me out.” There is an urgency in his voice, pain lingering in his words. You haven’t thought about what the past few days must have felt like for Jake, too caught up in your own head. He tried to call you multiple times and got disappointed every time you didn’t pick up yet again. It must have been torture for him not knowing if he did something wrong, not knowing the reason behind your sudden radio silence.

Looking at him like this, worried and distressed, tears fall down your face almost immediately. “Oh, baby.”, Jake softly coos. Carefully he takes a step towards you and as he notices that you make no move away from him, he pulls you into his arms, holding you tightly against his chest. “Please talk to me, Y/n. Please tell me what’s going on.”

You clear your throat, shakily wiping away the tears on your face. “I don’t want to hurt you, Jake. Please, you have to believe me that that is the last thing I ever want to do. I love you, so much. Sometimes it scares me just how much I do, but lately I’ve been realizing that I am not ready. I am not ready for this, not ready for a relationship. There is so much in my life that I need to fix, so much about myself that I need to fix. I still haven’t lived, you know? I don’t know what it is to actually live, to find myself, to know what I want and what I need. I have so much to learn. And I know that you would be by my side through whatever I am going through, supporting me and lending me a helping hand. But I realized that I need to do this alone. I need to fight through this on my own and grow from it. We are still so young, Jake, so much in our life can still happen and I don’t want you to get caught up in all of this. Especially since you’re moving away and starting a whole new chapter in your life.”

There is a beat of silence, a few seconds where everything is quiet. You only hear your own heart beating out of your chest. Jake wipes at his eyes, one, two times before he nods, slow and steady. “Okay.”, he whispers. Silence again. It’s like Jake is fighting with himself, having an inner conflict, he doesn’t want to share with you. He blows out a long breath, rubbing a hand over his face before looking back at you. His eyes red from the unshed tears.

“Okay, Y/n.”, he repeats again, blinking a few times. “Everything inside of myself is screaming for me to fight for you right now, to tell you that we can work this out and fix those things together. But I know you, and I know that once you made up your mind about something, no one can change that again.” He sighs another time, long and hard. “So, I will let you go. For now, at least. As you said, we are still young. This may be our end now, Y/n, but it won’t be our end forever. I will never give up on you. Someday, I will find you again. Someday, I will make you mine again.” Jake cups one of your cheeks in his hands, gently letting his thumb caress your soft skin. One small tear drops down his face, that is the only one he allows to escape, before he softly places a kiss on your lips. It is not a long kiss, not the type of kiss that leaves you breathless, yearning for more. It’s the type of kiss that is so soft, you wonder if it even happened after it’s over. It’s the type of kiss that rips you open from the inside, tears your heart out and leaves you bleeding out. It’s the type of kiss that makes you want to turn back time and fix all the mistakes you made in your life.

It's the type of kiss that makes you hope for a tomorrow, for a forever.

-

There is nothing you love more than a warm autumn day, watching the leaves fall down the trees, coloring the ground in bright orange and brown shades, or feeling the cold breeze in your hair. You love listening to the rustle of the trees, watching squirrels searching for nuts on the ground and tasting the fresh air on your tongue.

But what you love the most is sitting on a park bench, not one person in sight, with a book in your hand. It has become your favorite activity over the past few years. You read books like it is your job, finally having the time with Nuri almost being eleven years old. It became your little break from reality, something to look forward to on stressful days, something that would ease your mind.

Looking at the watch on your wrist, you realize that it’s almost time to pick Nuri up from her friends’ place, since you promised her to go visit uncle Sunghoon who lives a few streets from you. You put your book back into your bag, swinging it over your shoulder and standing up from where you were sitting to head to your car. But before you could even take one step, you stop in your tracks.

It's been years, you realize. Years since you’ve seen that familiar face. Years since you last hugged him, touched him, kissed him. Years since you heard his voice, seen his face. You almost can’t believe your eyes, thinking that your mind is playing a trick on you. But when you hear him speak for the first time, in what felt like forever, you know that this is real.

“Sunghoon told me I would find you hear.” He steps forward, not stopping until he is right in front of you. His wide, puppy like eyes, look down at you, lips pulled into a wide grin, as he takes the shock on your face. “Hey, Y/n.”

And that’s when it hits you. All the promises he made about not letting you go about making you his again. Now, years later, with everything different, he still intended on making all his promises come true. And you realize that it’s perfect. Right now, it’s perfect. Right now, you can start your forever.

“Hey, Jake.”

Bonus scene

You lean back in the chair on the front porch of the summer house you rented for you and the boys and watch the way Nuri teaches the other kids how to draw a butterfly with chalk. It’s a strange sight to see, Nuri all grown up, taking care of all the small little children. It makes a deep feeling of pride blossom in your chest, admiring just how far you have come.

“It’s crazy, isn’t it?”, Jake speaks up from the seat beside you. “Just how fast the time passes.”

You let your gaze wander to him, to his perfect face with his perfect eyes and perfect lips. He looks older now, more mature. But it is a good look on him. It suits you perfectly.

“It is.”, you say, letting out a soft side before leaning your back against Jakes chest, enjoying the feeling of being in his arms. “But I am so grateful for this. I am so grateful we get to watch the boys’ kids grow up. I am so grateful I get see Nuri so happy and content. And I am so happy I can be with you, Jake.”

“Forever?”, he asks, eyes looking deeply into yours and a soft smile, that is only dedicated to you.

“Forever.”, you answer his question, and you have never been more honest in your whole life.

#recs ⁝ sim jaeyun #sim jaeyun ⁝ fics

[jaeyunwrld]

DENiALㅤ. . .ㅤ﹫ park sunghoon ★

꒰ 📒 ꒱ park sunghoon & fem reader. ㅤg fluff, comedy, college au, situationship, smau oneshot. ㅤw pet names, kissing, drinking, jealousy, cursing, mentions of death & violence. both hoon & the mc call K by his last name.ㅤlibrary

⠀ ⠀ SOOV © 2O23

ㅤ𝗿𝗲𝗶’s notes ⪩⪨ hoon brainrot goes hard!!!!

#recs ⁝ park sunghoon #park sunghoon ⁝ texts

[jaeyunwrld]

hey, heeseung! - lhs series masterlist

"hey heeseung, i know looks can be deceiving but i know i saw a light in you / and as we walked we were talking and i didn't say half the things i wanted to" - hey stephen by taylor swift

part of the 100 kisses event

pairing. best friend's brother!heeseung x fem!reader

synopsis. Heeseung comes back from his first year of university a new man - forget nervous, fidgety, dorky Heeseung and say hello to confident, teasing, flirty Heeseung. This change of attitude doesn’t help your longstanding crush on your best friend’s brother, and neither does the rising tension between the two of you - a tension that is bound to explode.

genre. 3-part series, fluff, smut (mdni), angst that will be quickly resolved, half nerd half bad boy heeseung

part 1. gorgeous - 8.1k - 45 “we shouldn’t do this” but they do so anyway

part 2. our secret moments - 24.2k - 4 breaking the kiss, your lover instantly pressing their lips back to yours + 26 "i was supposed to take a shower, alone, but go ahead jump right in" + 19 "if we're caught kissing we're most likely dead but let's risk it"

part 3. dancing in a snow globe - 5.8k - 78 pushing your lover onto the bed, kissing down their stomach

series taglist: @doll4hoon @pshchives @jakelux @hoonslutt @jainandan @wntrnghts @enhastolemyheart @mymeloem19 @qkxaya @pussymastere @jak3sgf @woahsehun @inniessick @fakeuwus

let me know if you'd like to be added to the series taglist or to my permanent taglist! © asahicore on tumblr, 2023. please do not repost, translate or plagiarize my works. reblogs and feedback are always appreciated!

#recs ⁝ lee heeseung #lee heeseung ⁝ fics #THIS IS SO CUTE #LIKE HELLOOOO the pining and the hesitance #i reread this so many times im still not bored😊 #like i love downbad heeseung so much #and every scene was described so well too

[jaeyunwrld]

the long way home

SUMMARY. In which Park Sunghoon decides that nothing is more important than having you in his life.

PAIRING. sunghoon x y/n ft jake

GENRE. high school au, fluff, angst

WORD COUNT. 4.8k

RELEASED. 11.05.2023

AUTHOR'S NOTE. feedback is appreciated! experimented with writing style so sorry if this is bad and makes no sense 💔 enjoy 🙏

masterlist

"Two cotton candies, please."

The first time Park Sunghoon speaks to you, you're dressed head-to-toe in a blinding, neon pink.

The fundraiser uniform was your co-president's idea. She'd suggested it offhandedly in a delirious, late-night planning session, and in a rather unserious fashion, you'd agreed. It's hilarity overruled any embarrassment bundled with it.

When Park Sunghoon is the one standing in front of you, embarrassment crashes into you with the force of an eighteen wheeler.

His presence is overwhelming. It looms over you as you prepare his order. It sends a shiver down your spine, which is absurd when you've never even met him.

Someone could tell you that Sunghoon lives on a completely separate plane of existence and you'd believe them without thinking twice.

He's the basketball team's star player. He adorns the number twenty-three with poise and grace. He's the principal actor in people's dreams and fantasies.

To you, Park Sunghoon is like the moon.

Beautiful, and so, so far away.

The two cotton candies you hand him are less than perfect. Without much thought, a mumbled apology falls from your lips. He still accepts them with a polite smile. It sends a nervous jolt to your chest.

You watch him as he walks away and joins Jake Sim's side, handing him one of the cotton candies.

You know Jake Sim from your physics class. He catches your eye and sends you a friendly wave. You shoot him one back before hastily turning around.

A second later and you would have noticed Sunghoon's gaze, lingering.

Tuesday after school, Sunghoon agrees to meet with Jay and Jake in the East Wing.

He leans against a locker, watching his two friends bicker with each other. Occasionally cracking a smile when one of them says something particularly nonsensical.

Someone rushes past him. His breath hitches. Gaze flickering. When they stop in front of a classroom door, Sunghoon realizes it's you.

You knock on the door. While you wait, he takes you in.

The way your yellow sundress hugs your body in all of the right places. The way the pearl barrettes clipped to your hair reflect the afternoon sun. The way you tug the sleeves of your cardigan down over your hands. Sunghoon has the urge to roll them back up and interlock his fingers with yours.

Each second Sunghoon spends taking you in, his chest grows tighter.

The metal behind him is suddenly freezing to the touch. It bleeds through the fabric of his shirt. Pierces his shoulder blades. Is he shivering? He doesn't know.

The classroom door is opened. Another girl appears in the threshold, an easy smile on her face. The two of you exchange words before breaking out into giggles.

Park Sunghoon takes notice of you.

There’s a part of him that finds it unbelievable that he hadn’t done it earlier. There’s another that is deeply unsettled about it happening at all.

Either way, he takes great care in memorizing the outline of your figure. Grasping onto each note of your laughter.

Sunghoon bails on this week's team outing. His reason is that he has an important language arts assignment due at 11:59PM.

He isn't lying. His teacher had carved the words ‘no excuses’ into the very core of his being.

When the words on his page start looking like globs of nonsense, Sunghoon’s mind drifts.

The basketball season begins soon. Who is the first game against?

He searches up the school website intending to find the season schedule.

He pauses when he sees a photo of you.

It’s from the other day. The same day Sunghoon saw you in that pretty sundress. You’re watching the other people in the photo strike funny poses with a soft, tender smile on your lips.

The list of names goes left to right, top to bottom. Sunghoon’s eyes dart around.

L/N Y/N.

That night, Sunghoon has an important language arts assignment due at 11:59PM. His teacher had carved the words ‘no excuses’ into the very core of his being.

That night, Sunghoon spends his time learning about you.

Curiosity spared no mercy for the cat. You pray it's kinder to you.

There are three other water fountains located around the school, all perfectly capable of refilling your water bottle. Yet, their existence escapes you when you realize the person using the one you'd chosen to go to is Park Sunghoon.

You try to leave. You can't. His presence binds the soles of your feet to the tiles of the floor.

The first game of the season is a few, short weeks away. The air is full of the distant screeching of basketballs. Sunghoon's hair is damp with sweat. His arms and nape glisten under the fluorescent lighting.

Sunghoon's lips leave the jet of water. A loud exhale follows. You watch as he wipes harshly at the corners of his mouth.

When he turns around, his eyes widen. He looks surprised to see you.

Why wouldn't he? The two of you are strangers. Mutuals, at best.

Yet, he doesn't move from his spot. He doesn't cast his eyes away or walk past you.

His stare is heavy. You feel like he's peering into your soul. Judging it. Tearing it to shreds.

He silently moves to the side. You realize he's making way for you to use the fountain. Embarrassment floods your system.

The sound of running water ceases when your foot lifts off the pedal. A double twist ensures the cap of your bottle is screwed shut. You're set to leave.

But a hand encircles your wrist, stopping you. Spinning you around.

You're inches away from Park Sunghoon.

You're shocked.

You don't tug away.

Your eyes dart around his face, searching for an explanation. His expression is indecipherable. He suddenly won't meet your gaze, only unravelling your closed fist with gentle fingers.

You notice a slip of paper clasped in his hold. You watch it as he places it into your open palm.

His voice is near silent. Words evaporating when they leave his lips and hit air. You manage to catch them before they're completely gone.

"Call me."

When Sunghoon is sure the slip is securely slotted in your hand, he leaves.

There is an unfathomable amount of things Sunghoon's worried about. You throwing his number away. Laughing at him. Thinking he's a freak.

But in the deepest part of his brain, where he keeps his muscle memory of how to ride a bike or snap his fingers, the voice of his first ever coach resounds; something about missing one hundred percent of the shots he never takes. Sunghoon thinks he's heard it more in his lifetime than he's heard his own name.

It dawns on him that you being in his life, as even just the smallest of features, was not a shot he was willing to ruin.

You call Sunghoon at a quarter past midnight.

The clock on your wall ticks loudly, mocking you for taking so long.

You don't expect him to pick up at all. You don't need him to. Hearing his voicemail would be enough to assure you that what had happened was real. That it wasn't a figment of your imagination.

Park Sunghoon had left you paralyzed. All of your work had been neglected because of that crinkled slip of paper.

It's been on the edge of your desk for hours. It taunts you.

When you will yourself to call him, you had climbed onto your bed. The slip of paper stayed on your desk, untouched.

You didn't need it to call him. The digits of his phone number were already engraved in your head from how many times you thumbed over them on the way home from school.

The line rings. Once. Twice. Three times.

"Hello?"

You finally breathe.

"Sunghoon?"

A pause. Shuffling sounds from the receiver. "Y/N?"

"You told me to call you."

"I'm happy you did."

You hear the sound of birds singing.

You wonder if it's coming from outside or the other end of the line.

"Sunghoon?"

"Mm?"

"It's nearly six. We have school soon."

A huff. "Shit."

You break out into a smile.

Sunghoon makes hours feel like seconds. Conversation flows between the two of you with the ease of changing seasons. You don't think you could ever grow tired of listening to his voice.

There's a certain playful lilt to it. Teasing, yet kind. Each syllable spoken with a gentleness you can't quite grasp. Each boyish laugh that leaves his lips sweeping you off your feet. When periods of silence dotted your conversations, his slow breaths filled them in.

He had yawned, here and there. You told him to go to sleep. He refused. You didn't protest. Selfishly, you wanted to have him for a bit longer.

You can't discern what about him makes your insides turn upside down. He makes you feel vulnerable. All he'd have to do is ask and you'd be willing to bare your soul to him.

You decide you're okay with that.

"Y/N?"

"Yes?"

"Talk to you soon?"

"Yeah."

Your friendship with Sunghoon is a quiet one.

It's found behind small actions that seem to communicate everything.

Candies slipped into lockers. Split-second eye contact in the halls. Candid photos of each other in the courtyard. Your eyes searching the cluster of players during games from above, his searching each row of the bleachers from on the court.

It's hidden away from prying eyes, and that makes you cherish it even more.

At the first game of the season, Park Sunghoon scores a tie-breaking basket just as the countdown hit zero.

The gymnasium erupts into a thundering ovation. His teammates roar with victory. Tackling him to the ground. Clapping him on the back. Hoisting him into the air, tossing him up. Your heart lurches at the absolutely radiant smile on his face.

Chants of his name fill the entire venue. The commentator's voice booms through the speakers. Ladies and gentlemen, number twenty-three: Park Sunghoon.

You silently watch the scene, a ghost of a smile on your lips.

The difference between the intensity of a crowd and the stillness of the night air is jarring.

Park Sunghoon confuses you. You don't know how he has the opportunity or the desire to meet you after the game. He should be out with his teammates celebrating.

Instead, you receive a message to wait by the West gate.

Tonight is colder than usual. Icy wind grazes your bare knees. As you wait, anticipation knocks at your front door. You let it in when you catch sight of Sunghoon making his way towards you, a golden medal dangling from his neck.

He's glowing. Victory looks good on him.

A gasp escapes you when your feet leave the ground. Sunghoon spins you around in his arms, adorable giggles falling from his lips. Blissful warmth sprawls across your chest, seeping in every crevice.

"Tonight's MVP and you still have time to spare for me?" you tease, eyes shining.

"I have all the time in the world for you."

Sunghoon recounts the game with fervor. Galaxies swirl in his irises. You wonder if you'd ever feel as elated as he looks.

When he embraces you again, head slotting into the crook of your neck, holding you like he never wants to let go, your wonders are answered.

Park Sunghoon does not idle.

He walks with a destination in mind. He gives courteous greetings to those who he passes by in the halls, but his movements never stop.

The only thing Sunghoon willingly stops for is the sunset.

On days where he leaves school late, he takes the long way home. Down a street lined with yellow ginkgo trees, a left turn too early. Across the bridge bound for the city centre.

The long way home never really takes him home.

Sunghoon ends up on a pier in the harbour, letting vermillion and marigold rays of warmth soak into each pore of his skin. Unwinding with a low puff of air.

Recently, Sunghoon stops for you, too.

Whenever he sees you, there's a stutter in his strides. A stiffness in his fingers. A clog in his airway. The world around him starts to spin, yet he himself freezes.

The next time Sunghoon takes the long way home, he stays with the sunset for longer than usual. He sits instead of standing, letting his feet dangle off of the pier's edge. It makes the sloshing sound of the water below him even clearer.

Sunghoon closes his eyes. He inhales the salty, sweet air. Feels his teammates hugging him. Hears hundreds of people chanting his name.

Sunghoon closes his eyes, and sees you.

It takes ten games for defeat to seize Sunghoon by the throat.

Under the dim light of the locker room, Jake eyes his friend warily. He searches for any sign of emotion in the lines of his stone cold face. If he didn't know him any better, he'd believe he's simply reserved.

But Jake Sim has spent too much time uncovering Park Sunghoon to be ignorant to his character.

He’s torturing himself.

"Jay," Jake whispers. Caution laces his voice. "I feel like we should do something."

Jay's eyes flit over Sunghoon's figure. The air is heavy before he responds.

"I think it’s best we don’t pry."

When the sound of their steps fade away, Park Sunghoon drives his fist into a locker door.

He knew something was off. When their score plateaued while the opposition's climbed. Frowns painted themselves on his teammates' faces. Shots kept getting fumbled. Intercepted. Rolling off the rim.

Sunghoon feels his knuckles throb as he lets his hand fall to the side.

Anger and guilt are a dangerous pairing. They swirl in the pit of his stomach like a storm and render him feeling weak.

He hates how badly he's taking this.

"Sunghoon!"

Peace of mind reaches out to him in the form of anxious footsteps.

From around the wall, you appear. Worry taints your features. It's a blow to the stomach for him. "I- I was waiting for you outside but I heard a noise-"

In two urgent strides, Park Sunghoon's lips are on yours.

Time pauses. Uncertainty hangs in the air. Sunghoon is racing at a million miles an hour.

When he feels you kissing back, he crashes.

Anger and guilt are a dangerous pairing. They join forces and leave desperation in their wake.

Sunghoon kisses you harder. He wants you to fill in all of the parts that feel empty. He wants you to help him feel whole.

You're pliant under his fingers, back slightly arching whenever he squeezes your waist. Sunghoon revels in the gasp that leaves your mouth when his hands slide under your shirt and paint landscapes on the expanse of your back. It's music to his ears. He records it in his mind before drowning it out with another searing kiss.

When you part to catch your breath, your forehead instantly presses to his. Chasing his touch, craving more of his skin against yours.

You look up at Sunghoon. His eyes are downcast to the floor. He feels your hand travel up to his hair, gently pulling on it. A silent plead.

He doesn't meet your gaze. He's floating. Adrift at a lawless sea. His palms continue to rub up and down your sides.

Sunghoon doesn't know how long the two of you spend in each other's arms. He doesn't want to know. Knowing would define a beginning and an end.

Sunghoon never wants this to end.

Seven days.

It's been seven days since Park Sunghoon last spoke to you.

With the way he walks past you without a mere glance, you wonder if what happened was even real.

But, you can still feel it. You can still feel him.

He had kissed you in that locker room. He had stolen the air from your lungs and never returned it. His scorching hands had burned themselves into your skin.

You pass him in the hall wordlessly. That's how it's always been, except there's no more eye contact that asks silent questions of 'How are you?" and speaks delicate words of "I'm happy to see you today."

Every one of your waking hours is spent wondering what went wrong.

You begin to neglect assignments and reject invitations to go out. Teachers eye you with concern. Friends ask if you've been feeling off. Everyone spares you a glance and a hushed whisper, except Sunghoon.

A frustrated hand cards through your hair.

Do you consume his mind as much as he consumes yours?

The hateful part of you prays it does. Prays that he's getting a taste of his own, cruel medicine.

When you lie in bed, you peer out of your window. The moon glows as brightly as ever. Oblivious to your broken resolve.

To you, Park Sunghoon had always been like the moon. Beautiful, and so, so far away.

Except, for once, he didn't.

He didn't feel so far away when his lips were on yours, hands roaming your bare back, rough fingertips grazing your sides. When your breathing had mixed into one exchange. He'd felt so, so close.

If only you knew he was going to be out of reach again so quickly.

For someone who's ranked 230th out of 239 students, Jake Sim is exceptionally sharp.

With a gentle tug aside to an empty classroom, he asks you the question you've lost nights worth of sleep over in a single, easy breath.

"What's going on between you and Sunghoon?"

You shift uncomfortably in your spot. The straps of your bag were suddenly too tight, suffocating you.

You take your time loosening them. Jake only watches you silently.

You're exploiting his patience. Trying to dodge the inevitable. But, what can you do? Confrontation frightens you to no end.

You choose the easy way out: you tell a bad lie.

"Nothing's going on between Sunghoon and I. What business could I possibly have with Park Sunghoon, of all people?"

Jake subtly rolls his eyes. He can tell that you don't even believe your own words.

"I might've believed you if I hadn't seen the way you look at him in the hall, Y/N. I can tell Sunghoon's been off, too. He's all tensed up."

For a second, you rejoice. You haven't been the only one losing yourself to blurred lines and longing.

When that second is over, emptiness settles back into you. "I see."

"I didn't know the two of you knew each other," Jake muses innocently.

It takes all of your strength to turn away from him and grasp the door handle.

"We don't."

Desperation doesn't overpower fear. Fear is still there as you march up to Park Sunghoon's table in the cafeteria.

You just simply cannot take it anymore.

Jake notices you before Sunghoon does. He isn't any closer to discovering what had happened between the two of you. Your entire relation leaves him at a loss.

But, he can tell by the way the smile you flash him in greeting doesn't reach your eyes. The way your gaze immediately falls back onto Sunghoon with melancholy.

You're tired.

Lightly, he kicks Sunghoon in the shin. Jake ignores the glare he receives, only nodding his head towards you. He's praying he's done you a favour.

For the first time in weeks, Park Sunghoon looks you in the eye.

His silence stifles the rest of the table. Their attention weighs heavy on your shoulders.

Fear looms much closer and higher than before. Fear is about to pinch your nose until you pass out cold.

"Sunghoon."

His name is already bitter on your tongue. Is it from all the times you've cursed it in your head?

He stares at you before redirecting his gaze to his food. Like you're some sort of eyesore.

Fear drops to the ground, dead.

"Park Sunghoon, what is your problem?"

Whispers surround you. Chills travel the length of your spine.

You think back to your brief conversation with Jake. How you had said there was nothing happening between you and Sunghoon, and how evident it now is that all of that was bullshit.

But now, you couldn't care if the whole universe is privy to you and Sunghoon's relationship.

All you want is to know is what realization he had. In this moment, you're desperate to realize it too.

"When will you cut the shit?"

Silence. A fork scraps against a plate.

"You know, Sunghoon. I've thought many things of you. How could I not? The school's star athlete who has everyone at his feet."

A dry laugh, a nervous glance to the side.

"You had me, too."

Sunghoon's knuckles turn white from how harshly he grips his fork.

"Never did I think of you to be a coward."

The sound of your steps bounce off the walls. Every pair of eyes in the room trails behind you, this time, including Sunghoon's.

His brain is a broken record machine. Replaying your words again, again, and again.

What is Park Sunghoon so... afraid of?

What is he so defenseless against that it's worth seeing the lights in your eyes die?

Sunghoon doesn't know what compels him to ignore you. To walk past you each day, as if you didn't convince him that happiness doesn't exist anywhere except for in your arms.

Perhaps, it's that you are a whirlwind of unfamiliarity. An onslaught of foreign emotions. You make him unsure of what to do with himself. Perhaps he finds it easier to avoid that than to approach it.

He's been so adept at pushing it away, that he doesn't realize you're slipping through his fingers until his head is an echo chamber of your words.

He had you.

"Sunghoon..." A voice cuts through the fog. Sunghoon isn't sure which of his friends it belongs to. From the intonation, he assumes that it's Jake.

"Whatever this is, you've got to fix it."

Sunghoon has listened to your voicemail play six times. He's been trying for an answer, yet he doesn't mind dialling for a seventh.

You sound happy in your voicemail. He never wants to forget what you sound like happy.

"H-Hello?"

Sunghoon's been lingering at the summit of a cliff. Carefully composing himself to avoid slipping off the edge.

When he hears how utterly broken your voice is, suddenly, he's plummeting.

"Sunghoon?"

Falling, falling, falling—

A sniffle, followed by an impatient sigh. "Sunghoon, if you're just going to waste my time-"

"I'm outside."

Sunghoon closes his eyes. He sees the ridges and lines of your front door. He thinks they're permanently printed into his eyelids from how long he's been standing on your doorstep.

Don't hang up. Don't hang up.

"What?"

Sunghoon opens his eyes.

"I'm outside your door."

In his peripheral, the curtains of a window crack open. His heartbeat reaches his ears. You don't question him any further, but he hears distant footsteps from your end of the line.

The front door opens, then stops. Ajar. Hesitating.

Sunghoon knows you're on the other side. He prays you don't retract your movements.

You don't. You push through.

When you appear in the doorway, his breath dies in his throat.

Slightly bloodshot eyes. Strands of hair astray, haphazardly held together with a claw clip. A large sweatshirt swallowing your frame.

Sunghoon doesn't think he's ever seen anyone as beautiful as you.

He should've spoken by now. He'd planned on speaking by now, yet all he can do is look at you. Eyes trailing over every delicate curve. The slope of your nose, the moles on your hands.

When he hears the small sigh leave your lips, he knows you're slipping away.

His brain goes into overdrive. He needs to act fast.

Frantically, he clears his throat.

"Come watch the sunset with me."

A breeze blows by. The neighbour's wind chimes knock together, playing a soft jingle.

"Please."

The only words you speak to Sunghoon on the bus are to ask where you're going.

He tucks his bottom lip between his teeth, remaining silent.

You close your eyes. Surrendering. You're so sick of his silence.

You shouldn't have come. You're stupid to have believed otherwise—

"Don't."

Eyes snap open.

You turn to look at Sunghoon. You find that he's already looking at you.

"Don't- don't regret this," he pleads. Desperation pours from his voice. You would've scoffed if he wasn't wearing the rawest expression you've lived to see.

Park Sunghoon leaves you in despair.

No matter which lens you look at him through, he has no solution. He's wrung you dry of hope, yet you don't find yourself objecting when he brings your head onto his shoulder. His hastiness screams craving for proximity. Craving for reassurance.

Deep down, you know you're just the same.

You let Sleep take you.

It's the soundest you've slept in weeks.

You've seen the sunset thousands of times in your life.

From every place you've ever been. School grounds. Your bedroom. The drive home. Through the eyes of others.

And yet, none of those thousands of times hold a candle to the sight from the pier.

"It's beautiful," you breathe out.

A small hum in agreement. You smile weakly.

You know he isn't looking at the sunset, but you don't face him just yet.

"Sunghoon?"

He steps closer.

"What happened?"

You can feel him stiffen. Your eyes never tear from the vermillion sky. You're not sure if you're paralyzed by beauty, or by fear.

A head drops onto your shoulder. Its weight is comforting. Slowly, he readjusts himself to stand in front of you. Face pressing into your neck. Hands wrapping around your waist, holding on like you'd disappear if he let go.

His body shakes with each breath. It takes every bit of your resolve to not wrap your arms around him.

You let Park Sunghoon cry on your shoulder.

You don't think you'd ever deny him of it.

The sun doesn't budge from where it sits in the sky. It seems to be waiting for the two of you.

When Sunghoon peels his face away from you, you finally look at him. You can feel your heart fall apart in your chest.

Park Sunghoon is more beautiful than any sunset you'll ever see.

A careful hand reaches up. It barely rests against his jaw. You nearly chuckle at how he instantly leans into your touch.

He's staring at you through half-lidded eyes. Slightly parted lips. A gaze filled with longing, remorse, and a million unspoken words.

He leans in, nose brushing against yours. Before he can mouth the words he wants to say, you meet him half way.

The kiss is slow. Delicate. Fragile. Sunghoon is too scared to treat you as anything less.

It lacks the hunger of the one before. Your body is pulled flush against his. He's trying to convey thousands of apologies all at once. Hoping his sincerity can penetrate your skin, travel through your veins, and reach your soul. The way he's kissing you is heart-wrenching.

"I-" he gasps when you part. "Please. Please forgive me."

"Come back to me," you croak. "Why did you shut me out?"

He presses kisses to your jaw, then to your cheek. His hands slide up to your cup your face.

"Because I love you."

You close your eyes. Soaking in each sacred word that falls from his lips. Shuddering.

You feel like crying.

"I love you so much that I don't know what to do with myself. With you, nothing feels real. Time stops ticking. Everyone else fades into oblivion, and I feel like I'm on top of the fucking world," he whispers, voice wet and rushed.

Your forehead connects with his. A gentle rhythm is tapped onto his nape with the intention of calming him down.

"I've never felt like this before. I- I just-"

Sunghoon's face twists. He's fighting against his emotions.

You watch as he deflates.

"Please... find it in your heart to forgive me."

A small smile graces your face.

Under the glow of the setting sun, everything is okay.

"Stop staring at me like that."

Sunghoon peers up at you from your lap. His face glows golden.

A mischievous smile appears on his face. It infects you like a virus.

"Is it illegal for me to admire my girlfriend?"

"Yes." You shoot him with a finger gun. "Hands up."

Soft laughter fills your ears. You let Sunghoon pull you down into a gentle, loving kiss.

You'd let him do it for all of eternity.

To you, Park Sunghoon is like the moon. Beautiful, and so, so far away.

Now, you think Park Sunghoon is more like the setting sun.

Beautiful, and just on the way home.

#bro this fic is gorgeous #DESERVES SO MUCH MORE #I SWEARRR EVERYTHING IS SO PERFECT IN THIS FIC #ANGST OH MY GOD I LOVE ANGST #recs ⁝ park sunghoon #park sunghoon ⁝ fics

[jaeyunwrld]

enha hyung line when you go for another idol's fansign !

a/n. heavily inspired by that fansign of op asking members about what they'd allow their so to do 😊 (edit: wow this is blowing up so while im here, shameless promo!!! i have other text works on this acc and also a main that has even more works aka @jaeminri ‼️)

© JAEYUNWRLD, 2023

#enhypen #enhypen texts #enhypen smau #enhypen x you #enhypen x reader #enhypen x y/n #heeseung x you #heeseung x reader #heeseung x y/n #heeseung texts #jay texts #jay x y/n #jay x reader #jay x you #jake x you #jake x reader #jake x y/n #jake texts #sunghoon x you #sunghoon x reader #sunghoon x y/n #enhypen heeseung #enhypen jay #enhypen jake #enhypen sunghoon

[jaeyunwrld]

i don't want you to go to bed, mad at me

pairing: jake x reader word count: 2.2k type: angst, fluff. synopsis: in the middle of an argument, you want to go to sleep— but jake refuses for either of you to go to bed feeling mad at one another. warnings: slight arguing, mentions of breaking up, jake being the sweetest guy he is, there’s no specific mention of the reason why the argument started, overthinking, reassurance, comfort, lmk if there’s more i shld add

make sure to listen to this song as you read. it is the song that the story is based on. [ mad by ne-yo ] (rlly sets the mood, ngl)

Before you and Jake started dating, there has always been one established rule that the both of you agreed on. Never go to bed mad at the other. Always resolve and communicate about your problems before going to sleep. Never leave it for the next day.

It remained consistent, until tonight. For the first time in your four-year-long relationship, you think you can’t follow that rule as the millionth yawn leaves your lips in the middle of an argument.

Jake sat on the couch; his face buried in his hands as he heaved a sigh again. No words were shared, and the silence between the both of you was deafening. After yelling over each other for nearly 20 minutes straight, you figured it was stupid to open your mouth again— knowing it’d lead to another screaming match.

Seated on the other couch, you found yourself fidgeting with the bracelet on your wrist. “This isn’t working, we’re going back and forth.” You tell him, tone different from the one you used earlier. He looks at you, shoulders slumping. “Well, if you’d just listen to me, we would be done with this.”

“Jake, you won’t even listen to me.” Tightness is evident in your eyes and voice as you look at him. He clicks his tongue, shaking his head. “This is so stupid.” He muttered under his breath, and you could barely hear it. But you do.

“Well, I’m sorry if it’s so stupid, maybe, just like you said— if we weren’t trying to scream over each other, this would’ve been done an hour ago.” You tell him, trying to fight your drowsiness.

Jake looks at you when you say that, taking in the tone of your voice. Before he could open his mouth to speak, you rose from your seat on the couch, crossing your arms. “I’m going to bed,” You announce, the words leaving your mouth causing a small trigger of panic in your lover's mind.

“Y/n,” He gets up as well, trying to get you to look at him— not liking where this is going. You look down at your hands, “We both are tired. As much as I want to talk about this…” Your words trail off as you move towards the door frame between the living room and the hallway. “I think we need to cool off before we say anything too crazy.”

You don’t see it, but Jake’s expression falls as soon as those words leave your lips, and he curses to himself as you submerge into the hallway, away from his sight. “Fuck,” He sits back down, running a hand frustratingly through his hair.

After half an hour passed, you stood in front of the mirror, brushing your teeth after finishing your skincare routine. The door to the bathroom opened, and Jake had a pinched mouth as he moved past you, reaching for his toothbrush.

You quickly finished up brushing your teeth, refusing to be in the same room as him any longer— the silence killing you slowly. You refused to show him how vulnerable you are, choosing to avoid his eyes as you put your toothbrush away and trudged out of the bathroom.

As soon as you shut the bathroom door behind you, Jake stared at himself in the mirror. He hated every second of that silent treatment of yours, and he was determined to fix things before it could lead into the next day.

You were lying on your side of the bed, turned away from Jake’s. You feel the bed dip from behind you, and Jake doesn’t spare another second before talking to you. “I don’t want to go to bed. Not like this,” he tells you.

Your lip’s part, but no words leave your mouth.

“What about the rule?” He asks when you don’t give him a response. “What happened to not going to bed angry at one another?” He adds, desperation laced in his voice.

When those words leave his mouth, you can’t help but feel bad. It was a rule you both established, and agreed on— so this time, you take a minute to think of how to respond. But before anything, Jake unknowingly shuts those thoughts down as soon as he mumbles a short ‘good night’.

In defeat, you move carefully, turning to look at him. Only to be met by Jake’s back facing you, just like you had done to him.

Biting your lip, sadness crept into your body as you turned away once more— the tiredness in your body dissipating like it was never there to begin with. Still, you try to fight with your thoughts and attempt to go to sleep.

You looked at your phone for the nth time, watching time pass. It’s been 3 hours, and your restless attempts of going to sleep have gone nowhere. You fought internally with yourself and kept turning, looking towards Jake after you assumed he’d fallen asleep.

Your boyfriend’s back is still facing you, and your emotions get the best of you as tears well in your eyes— threatening to slip out. He fell asleep so easily.

After a couple more minutes, you blink your tears away and decide to text your best friend, knowing she would be up. Hey Ningning, can I come to sleep over?

Receiving a text message of confusion and follow-up of approval, you sit up from your spot— but before you make the move to get up, you look at your boyfriend once more. A frown settles on your face, looking at his ruffled hair pressed against his pillow. As much as you badly wanted to run your hands through it, you shook your head and looked back to your side of the bed, ready to get up.

“What are you doing?” Jake’s voice fills the silence of the room. You had no idea, but during that entire time you were stirring around— he did not get even a blink of sleep. He felt the bed shift whenever you’d turn to look at him, but when he felt the dip from your side rise, he knew you’d gotten up.

“I’m going to Ningning’s apartment.” You mumble, unable to look at him. Jake stills at this and sits up slowly when he processes your words. Your phone is swiped from your hands as quickly as you’d reach to grab it.

Going to bed pissed at one another is already a living hell for Jake, but you being pissed to the point where you feel like you can’t even sleep in the same bed as him? No. He had to do something. Quick.

You finally turn to look at Jake, “Jaeyun, give it back.” Your voice is small but desperate. It’s only then that you realize you can actually see your boyfriend, the moonlight slipping through the window perfectly structuring his facial features. “No.” He shook his head at you, putting your phone on his side.

“No?” You echo what he said, confused. “Not until we talk properly.” He exhales deeply, clearly tired from the past couple of hours.

Silence engulfs your bedroom, and you can’t bring yourself to respond to him anymore, thoughts filling your mind when the words ‘talk’ echo in your head. Talking could mean anything, you thought to yourself.

Jake takes in your silence, and he hates how quiet you’ve gotten. For some weird reason, he found himself wishing you’d just yell at him again, just like the both of you had been hours prior. But he could tell you were thinking again, and this time— you completely shut him out. And he hates that during times like these, he’s unable to read your thoughts like he usually can.

“Baby—”

“Are we breaking up?” You asked, voice shaking slightly. Jake’s facial expression drops almost immediately when those words leave your mouth, “What?” He lets out, tone heavily coated in disbelief.

A gasp leaves your lips, and you’re quick to bring a hand to your mouth when you realize you said that out loud. “Sorry,” you tell him, looking away. For once, you felt like you couldn’t look at your boyfriend. “I didn’t mean to say it out loud.”

“Holy shit.” Is all Jake could say for a couple of seconds, before looking at you like you’ve gone crazy. “Is that what you were thinking?” He asked you, hovering his other hand over arm as a signal to look at him. “That I want to break up?”

Hardly being able to speak correctly, you frown at him as soon as your eyes examine his soft gaze. “I thought…” You started, and his fingers unconsciously began to caress your hands. “I don’t know, it sounds like—”

“We are not breaking up,” He spoke softly when he cut you off, making you lie back in bed with him. You yelp and almost scold him before he continues.

“Yeah, we argued, and yeah, we said mean things to one another, but we are not breaking up.” He’s looking you in the eye, his other hand finding your waist— meaning to pull you closer towards him. “This is something we are working through together, it’s what will bring us closer.”

Tears threaten to fall from your eyes, and you desperately try to fight them— only to fail miserably when Jake smiles sadly at you. “I love you, Y/n. Fights and arguments are normal, and as long as we’re alright by the end of them— before we go to bed— I know I’ll love you even more as the next day comes by.”

You cry into his chest as he buries his face into your neck, almost like magnets as you press into each other’s warmth. “Talk to me, baby.” Jake spoke after a couple of minutes, desperate to hear your voice once more, “Just let me hear you.”

“Jaeyun,” Your voice sounds like a drawl, hardly above a whisper. “Jaeyun, I love you.” Is what leaves your lips, letting your fingers grasp onto Jake’s hoodie. “I hate it when we argue.”

He frowns, pulling back and looking you in the eye. “Me, too.” He spoke softly, pressing a kiss on your forehead. “We always want to be the one who’s right.”

“I don’t even remember what started this argument,” You give him a soft smile, and Jake’s pupils dilate at the sight. “I think it only got worse when I mentioned going to bed…”

Jake hums, “We were in the middle of arguing baby, I didn’t want you going to sleep mad at me.” He moves a strand of your hair behind your ear, staring at you. “I couldn’t even sleep.”

You give him a look of confusion, “But Yun,” You started, and you swear that his eyes brightened up at your usual nickname of endearment for him. “Yeah, baby?” He responds, his voice soft— urging you to continue.

“You were asleep… You stayed in one spot for three hours.” You mumble, head resting comfortably on his bicep, his hand landing on your waist as he tugged you closer.

“Baby, I was awake.” He tells you. “You have no idea how many times I wanted to turn around and take you into my arms.” He heaves a sigh, shaking his head at memory. He feels your body shake slightly, and Jake quirks an eyebrow. “Are you cryi—”

“I can’t believe you stayed still for three whole hours…” You laugh into his neck, your shoulders shaking. Jake lets out a breath of relief, all the tension leaving his body when he realizes you weren’t crying but laughing.

After a couple seconds, he finds himself laughing too, “Yeah, me too.”

You look at him for a couple seconds, and he seems to catch your gaze. “Hi,” He lets out, his voice sounding breathless. A soft smile forms on your lips, “Hi.” You responded in the same energy. “Everything’s okay between us, right?” You ask him, searching for reassurance.

“Because I’m honestly beginning to feel sleepy.” You mumble groggily, throwing an arm around his body.

Jake stares at you for a couple of seconds, before pressing his lips on yours. You’re taken aback for a couple seconds, but quickly melt into the kiss when he pulls you closer.

You two kiss for a while, and Jake pulls away to let you catch your breath. He smiles against your lips, “Yeah, everything’s okay. Everything’s perfect, baby.” He says it twice, to let it sink in your head that it’s okay. That you two will be perfectly fine tomorrow morning. Jake grins, “We can sleep now.” He spoke softly as your eyes fluttered close. “Good night, Y/n. I'll be right here when you wake up in the morning."

“Good night, Yun. See you.”

copyright © eneiyri 2023 a/n: jake brain rot but when am i not

#recs ⁝ sim jaeyun #sim jaeyun ⁝ fics

[jaeyunwrld]

Whispers From My Heart (pt.2) - Won (양정원)

Do you believe in fate? If you were asked this question 2 years ago, you would've said no. But now, you're not so sure. ꒰ wc: 5.5k ꒱

[pairing] brother's best friend! jungwon x fem! reader [genre] brother's best friend trope, unrequited love, coming-of-age, fluff, slow burn [warnings] cursing

read part 1 here

your bookshelf 📓✧˖°.

“I have a secret.”

〰

When people think about their job, the first things that come to mind are their demanding boss, the clock on the wall that drags on, and that coworker who always gossips and never works. To sum it all up: stress.

But it was different for Jungwon. 

While people around him would hate having to wake up at 6 am every day to get ready and drive to work in the heavy, bumper-to-bumper traffic or have to get squashed against the window like sardines in a crowded train, Jungwon didn’t mind.

He loved getting up in the morning to water his plants, feed his Birman cat as she curled up around his ankle, and eat breakfast as he scrolled through the daily news. Most of all, he loved his job. 

Making desserts and pastries started as a way for Jungwon to take his mind off his family situation when he was younger. But as time went on, it evolved into something more than that. It became a hobby that eventually blossomed into a dream. 

He had been working at his current job for a little over a year now. It was a cute family-owned cafe near his old job that he came across one day while he was scarfing down his lunch on the side of the street. The sign on the door that read “hiring!” was practically screaming at Jungwon. 

He had been in desperate need to find a job since his monthly rent was almost due, and his last job was a total nightmare. Working 13-hour shifts, seven days a week, delivering food on a motorcycle proved too much for Jungwon. Paired with the constant mistreatment from his boss, making him work overtime with no compensation, and the difficult customers, it was too much to handle. 

The final straw for Jungwon was when a customer threw a scalding bowl of soup at Jungwon because he had gotten there too late. He had tried to explain that there had been an accident in the middle of the road and that was the reason for his delay. Not only did Jungwon get his clothes dirty and burnt, but his boss screamed at him for 30 minutes while he bowed continuously. The cost of the meal was even taken out of Jungwon’s hard-earned paycheck that could barely get him by.

Even though Jungwon desperately needed money, he had dignity and self-respect. So the next day, he called his boss, telling her that he was done. Enough was enough. 

Now his dream is to save up enough money to open his own cafe so that he can do the thing that he loves forever. 

Out of his right back pocket, Jungwon pulled out his phone to check the time, 6:31 am. Right on schedule, he had about ten more minutes before he had to walk to the nearby subway station to catch his train to work.

With a hint of hesitation, his finger hovered over the messaging app before giving in and tapping on it. He swiped down past his coworkers and boss, skipping over Sunoo’s name, and finally stopped. It hadn’t been long since he changed your contact from little sis to Y/N, although the alteration feels somewhat pointless since you had stopped replying to him or even reading his messages. But even still, he found himself lingering over your contact every single day. 

Today was no different. His message from 6 months ago was still left unread, much like with the 20 other messages before that. 

A sharp pang of disappointment jabs at his heart, he should be used to it now, but it never gets easier. 

Jungwon wondered what had happened. 

From what he remembered, you guys left on a good note. He never went back to your house to visit after he moved back to his hometown to take care of his family problems, but it wasn’t like he vanished without a word. He had called your family to deliver the news, and he remembers saying goodbye to you. But you only responded with an “Okay, take care.” 

Back then, Jungwon hadn’t thought anything of it, but now, thinking back, he couldn’t shake the feeling that he might have offended you in some way.

Over time, you had become a very close friend to him. You comforted him when his father was diagnosed with cancer. You showed genuine care and concern without any judgment about his background or circumstances and didn’t pity him like his other classmates. Your whole family was his savior, and it really saddened him that you two were no longer in contact. At some point, you had stopped replying to him, not even responding to his birthday or holiday wishes to you.

Jungwon accepted it, but he still found himself checking, just in case. 

〰

The walk to the subway today felt different. There was an indefinable shift in the atmosphere that Jungwon couldn’t quite put his finger on. Everything seemed a little brighter, and the people around him seemed a little happier. It’s like that feeling you have when it’s a national holiday, and everyone is excited to participate in the festivities of the season. 

But today was no holiday. It was a weird feeling, but Jungwon shook it off and continued walking towards the subway station. 

It was a normal occurrence for the subway to be crowded with people, especially around 7 am, with everyone trying to get to work or school. 

But, yet again, today was different. If Jungwon moved one step to the left, he would accidentally step on the grandma next to him, or if he stepped back, he would step onto the wheels of a child stroller. 

The subway was jampacked, filled with the usual commuters hurrying to their destinations, but Jungwon also saw new faces. Ones that looked around, some in awe, while others in confusion. 

Jungwon turned to the elderly lady standing next to him and asked, “Good morning, Grandmother.” the older woman turned towards him slowly with a nod and a gentle smile, which Jungwon returned before continuing, “Do you happen to know what’s happening today? Why are there so many people?”

The grandmother’s face scrunched up in confusion, suggesting she might have a hard time hearing him, which prompted Jungwon to kindly repeat his question, leaning a bit closer this time to ensure she could hear him clearly.

“Ah! Yes! We’re having a conjoined parade with the city next to us because we recently helped them fix that one big bridge that broke…what was it called again?” The grandmother’s face once again scrunched up in confusion as she turned her brain inside out, trying to remember. “The…uhh…I’m afraid I don’t really remember,” she concluded, looking away while scratching her head. 

Jungwon smiles, offering a slight bow of gratitude to the kind lady before turning his attention back to the front. Now it made sense why there were so many people who looked confused. They’re probably lost. Jungwon would be, too, if he were stuck in the middle of a crowded subway in a new city. 

Amidst the hustle and bustle, the loudspeaker suddenly blared, a woman’s voice ringing through the station. Jungwon strained his neck to hear her announcement over the crowd.

“Train 2A arriving at station 3 at 6:57 am. Train 2A arriving at station 3 at 6:57 am.”

Jungwon heaved a sigh of relief as he moved with the crowd. They moved like currents in the ocean, pooling into the open doors. In the midst of the chaos, someone behind Jungwon accidentally stepped on the heel of his shoe, causing Jungwon to stumble slightly before finally crashing onto a seat by the window. 

Jungwon wraps his arm around his bag protectively as he settles in, ignoring the rest of the people still scrambling to find a seat. 

Looking out the window, Jungwon can see that the crowd had slightly dissipated a bit after the arrival of the train. Those who were once confused were now determined after finding out the way to their final destination. It was starting to look and feel like every other Tuesday morning. 

Resting his head against the cool glass window, Jungwon allows his gaze to drift downward, observing the passing scenery. The sound of the train doors closing signals its impending departure, and for a moment, the world outside appears to be in motion, just like his thoughts. 

Would things have turned out differently if he hadn’t looked up at that moment as the train was pulling away? Maybe someday in the future, he would’ve regretted this thing that he didn’t even know was about to happen.

But as fate would play out, Jungwon would lift his head up at the last moment. And the world around him seemed to slow to a crawl as he locked eyes with you. 

〰

“Do you believe in fate?”

If you were asked this question two years ago, you would’ve confidently said no. 

But as you stood amidst the bustling crowd, eagerly waiting for your train inside the subway station, your life took a drastic turn. You locked eyes with someone sitting on the train, and at that moment, everything changed. 

The encounter lasted a mere two seconds, but in that fleeting moment, time seemed to stand still. As the train swiftly picked up speed and moved away, you couldn’t tear your eyes away, your mouth parting open in shock. There was no denying it; the boy staring back at you with wide eyes was undoubtedly Jungwon. He had the same innocent look on his face with his big round eyes and cute dimples. 

All of the feelings that you had carefully stored away in your heart came back to the surface the second you saw him again. It was like you never stopped loving him. 

Your heart felt heavy, and a flood of emotions washed over you like a tidal wave as you watched the train become smaller and smaller before finally disappearing from view. The impulse to chase after Jungwon tugged at you, but you quickly gave up that thought. There was no way you could outrun a train and get to the next stop before it. It also wasn’t guaranteed that Jungwon even recognized you. It had been two years. Even if he did recognize you, who’s to say he would get off on the next stop? The doubts and uncertainties weighed heavily on your thoughts, making your desire to pursue him seem utterly ridiculous. 

Plus, the thought of seeing Jungwon and approaching him again left you paralyzed. What would you even say to him after all this time? Admit that you purposely didn’t reply to his messages even though you read every single one over ten times? Maybe if you were stupid enough, you would even accidentally confess your love for him. The thought of that possibly happening made you cringe so hard; you’d rather finish your 20-page research paper on prehistoric art. 

You were a part of the crowd that was visiting for the day for the celebration. After hearing about this event, you finally had an excuse to be in Jungwon’s hometown. At least that’s what you convinced yourself. There were many times in the past when you were close to dropping everything and calling up Jungwon to meet up, but a part of you was always hesitant. And as time went on, it became harder. You lost a reason to even talk to him, let alone meet up and confess your feelings. 

A violent buzz in your pocket snaps you out of your daze. Your hand reaches into your pocket, pulling out your phone. Upon seeing the screen, you smile softly. The picture on the screen was taken 4 years ago when you were still 18, and Jungwon was 23. You both had on a beanie, your noses red from playing in the snow, and you were chucking snowballs at each other. 

A tinge of sadness crept into your smile. You guys were so close, and now here you are, turning off your phone, shoving it back into your pocket, rejecting Jungwon’s call. 

“Call me a coward, but I’m not ready to face this,” you whispered to yourself, taking in a deep breath.

〰

Nothing significant happened after your short encounter with Jungwon at the subway station. Seeing him again felt odd. You were expecting him to look completely different. You had imagined him looking like a middle-aged workman who was unkept because he was too busy worrying about his job. Maybe he would have some slight facial hair and a half-done tie. 

But he looked the same, maybe even better than ever. You hated that. Your heart still raced at the sight of him, even now, as you sat in the lecture hall, thoughts of him lingering in your mind.

Jungwon had texted and called you nonstop in the past few days, but you hadn’t responded to any of them. His text messages were all along the lines of “I know that was you I saw at the subway,” or “Why won’t you talk to me?” and “Did I do something wrong?”

At one point, you thought to yourself, “Heck, what’s the big deal? Why can’t I just tell him that I love him?”

But thank goodness you didn’t let your impulses take over. The consequences were too large, and the risk was too great. After all, Jungwon was your brother’s best friend ever since middle school. Admitting to him that you fell in love with his best friend was asking for a death sentence. Sunoo was already so protective over you. If he found out the guy you liked was his best friend, it would be disastrous. Though Sunoo usually radiated sunshine and rainbows, his anger could make the world feel like it was coming to an end.

As you were lost in your thoughts, you noticed the students around you starting to pack their things as the class came to an end. Letting out a sigh, you began organizing your binder and stowing away your laptop in your backpack. As you zipped it up, you pulled out your phone and dialed your friend’s number. 

The dial tone rang twice before a cheerful voice rang out. “Hey!”

“Hey, Jake. Where are we meeting up later again?” you inquired.

“Oh, don’t worry about it. I’ll meet you outside your dorm around 5,” Jake replied cheerfully, his thick Australian accent adding a friendly touch.

“Sounds good! Also, don’t forget-“ you started.

“-your melona popsicle,” Jake interjected with a chuckle. “Yeah, yeah, already got it!”

With a giggle, you blow a playful kiss toward your phone, “You’re literally the best.”

“Very funny, Y/N,” came Jake’s sarcastic reply. “The only time you say that is when I bring you food.”

“Ha ha…you know I’m only joking…” you playfully pouted. 

“Love you too,” Jake laughed. “Okay, I’ll see you later. Remember to put on sunscreen.”

“Yessir!” you playfully saluted, even though he couldn’t see it over the phone. 

After hanging up, you took your usual five-minute walk through the park to get to your dorm.  The weather was fair today–sunny but not overly heated. The distant chirping of birds and the cheerful chatter of students filled the campus atmosphere.

Since finals had just ended, you and your friends had plans to go roller skating later in the day. So you had to get ready. Wearing a skirt to go roller skating was not ideal. 

Upon opening the door to your dorm, a soothing silence greeted you. Your two roommates were still in class, leaving you to enjoy some quiet time. Glancing at the clock on your desk, it read 4:13. Okay, good, you still had a good chunk of time before meeting up with your friends.

After changing into suitable attire and applying sunscreen as per Mr. Jake Sim’s request, you settled back into your chair. Nervously picking at your nails, you read and reread Jungwon’s last message to you, “Y/N, please. I have something I need to tell you.”

Your eyebrows knit up in confusion. What was there that he so desperately needed to tell you? It’s not like you had any common topics you could talk about. It was probably his witty way of tricking you into talking to him–Jungwon was always a sly one. 

With a heavy sigh, you let your head roll back, allowing the chair to rotate slowly as your mind wanders. Your eyes fixated on the spinning ceiling, and before you knew it, your eyelids fluttered shut as you drifted off into a light slumber. 

〰

“Come on, Y/N! You’re so slow!”

Grumbling, you roll your eyes and retort, “Sunghoon, unlike you, this is my first time skating!”

The tall boy only lets out a laugh as he skates near you, reaching out to grab your arm. “Come on, grandma, let’s get you standing at least.”

Using your sleeve, you wipe across your forehead, collecting all the sweat that had accumulated there. “You liar, you said this would be fun.” 

“It is!” Sunghoon whined. “You just have to get the hang of it. You’re almost there!”

Out of the corner of your eye, you can see Sunghoon trying to hold back a cackle. You shoot him an annoyed look, “Fuck off, do I look like I’m getting the hang of it?!”

Currently, you are bent over with one hand on your shaking knees while Sunghoon holds your other hand. As you struggled to gain balance, you watched as a little girl skated expertly past you two, and you let out an embarrassed grumble as Sunghoon doubled over in laughter. 

“What’re you two laughing about?”

Sunghoon’s eyes brightened at the sight of Jake. “Nothing, just complimenting Y/N for her vogue-worthy pose here,” he snickered. 

Jake raised his eyebrows at you, to which you returned with a glare. 

“You better not start laughing at me, too,” you warned.

“Wasn’t planning on it,” Jake responded, trying to look offended. 

Before you could retort, you winced slightly from the discomfort coming from your feet. Twisting and turning on the wooden floor to gain balance has taken its toll, and now your ankles are burning from the friction caused by the skates. 

Sunghoon noticed your pained expression and gently asserted, “Okay, that’s enough for now,” as he gently tugged you towards a nearby table. “Rest for a bit. We can continue later.”

Relief surged through you as you gratefully sat down, finally relieving the tension off your aching feet. From your seat, you watched as Sunghoon chased after Jake around the skating rink, both of them laughing as Jake was eventually tackled. You smiled fondly at the sight of your friends. Letting out a sigh, you rubbed your hands on your sore ankles. 

As you winced in pain, a shadow suddenly appeared on the ground next to you. A person approached, their form towering over you, catching your attention. The figure kneeled down, and your eyes widened in shock when you realized who it was. 

Jungwon gently loosened the laces on your skates while murmuring, “Be careful. Your skates are too tight.” 

His unexpected presence left you momentarily speechless, but you managed to find your voice, “J-Jungwon? What are you doing here?”

He looked up with a sad smile, his eyes filled with years of unspoken emotions. “Were you ever going to talk to me if I didn’t approach you?” Jungwon asked softly, his vulnerability evident in his voice. 

His question caught you off guard, and you found yourself grappling with your feelings. At that moment, you realized how much had changed since your last interaction, and you couldn’t help the pang of guilt that was eating at your heart. 

Taking a moment to gather your thoughts, you took a gulp before replying, “I…I don't know. Jungwon, I really don’t know.” Your mouth felt dry, and you silently cursed at yourself. That was not what you wanted to say. 

The weight of your unspoken emotions seemed to hang in the air, creating an awkward tension between you. You prayed that Jungwon couldn’t hear your heart panging against your ribcage. 

Jungwon’s sad smile remained, his eyes searching yours as if trying to decipher your thoughts. You looked away because it felt like he could see all the secrets you had kept hidden for all these years. 

“I just…I want things to go back to how they used to be,” you finally managed to add, your voice tinged with vulnerability. “But it’s so much more complicated now.”

Jungwon’s eyebrows knit together in confusion. “What do you mean? It doesn’t have to be complicated. We can go back to how we were,” he pleaded softly. 

Rubbing your hands over your face, you let out a frustrated sigh. “Let’s talk about this outside,” you suggested, wanting to be in a more private area. 

You noticed that Jake and Sunghoon were making their way toward you and Jungwon with a concerned look on their face. Despite your inner turmoil, you managed to shoot them a reassuring smile and a thumbs up, signaling that you were fine and there wasn’t a problem. 

Jungwon followed after you in silence, and the awkwardness seemed to linger like an invisible cloud. Once outside, neither of you knew how to break the silence that had settled between you. 

You winced and absently kicked your foot against the concrete, watching as a rock skipped two times before coming to a stop. The sound of the rock hitting the ground echoed in the air, mirroring the uncertainty in your heart. You knew there were things that needed to be said, feelings that had to be acknowledged, but finding the right words was proving to be a challenge. 

How do you casually tell Jungwon you are in love with him without risking him hating you?

Finally, Jungwon took a deep breath and spoke softly, “I’m sorry if suddenly appearing in front of you caught you off guard. I didn’t mean to make things awkward between us.”

“It’s fine,” you mumbled, unable to meet his gaze.

“So…uhm, how have you been?”

You took a moment to compose yourself. You were being rude, and Jungwon didn’t deserve this. “I’ve been okay,” you said, keeping your tone neutral. “Life’s been busy with school and everything.” 

“I can imagine. College was so rough, finals and assignments all chasing after my ass.” Jungwon laughed, his eyes crinkling up into crescents. 

Your heart couldn’t help but ache at hearing his laugh again, the sound bringing back a flood of memories and emotions. 

Your heart swelled at seeing his smile again. 

You couldn’t do this anymore. You couldn’t continue pretending like everything was fine. 

“Jungwon,” you began, palms sweating from the nerves. “What’s the meaning of all this? What’s the point in coming all the way to this city to find me?”

Jungwon’s laughter subsided, and his expression shifted to a look of hurt and confusion. “Y/N,” he started, his voice tinged with frustration as his tongue poked at the inside of his mouth in annoyance. You were shocked. You had never seen Jungwon so visibly angry before. 

“You can’t be serious, right? You’re the one that threw our friendship away. Now, I’m here trying to fix it, and this is all you have to say?” His words cut through you like a dull knife, slow and painful. 

His raw emotions left you feeling exposed and vulnerable, causing you to instinctively bite the inside of your mouth, “It’s just…it’s complicated,” you said, your voice wavering. “It’s not like that,” you tried to explain. “I…I was scared…” your voice trailed off. 

Jungwon’s eyes searched yours, waiting for you to elaborate. When it seemed like you weren’t going to continue, Jungwon whispered, “Scared of what?”

Tears welled up in your eyes, blurring your vision. “I-I’m sorry,” you stammered, “I never wanted to hurt you. I never wanted to lose you as a friend,” you choked out. 

At the sight of you crying, Jungwon felt a tug at his heart, prompting him to step forward and wrap his arms around you. In his embrace, the realization of how much you missed him hit you like a tidal wave, and you clung to his shirt.

“I’m so sorry,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. It was more like you were talking to yourself, but Jungwon heard it nonetheless. “I should have been brave enough to risk it all and tell you how I felt.” 

“What?”

At this point, you didn’t really care anymore. You were too tired of this game you were playing with yourself. “I shouldn’t have kept it a secret,”  your voice cracking. 

It felt like Jungwon was hit by a truck. At that moment, he was hit with a sudden realization that this was so much more than you feeling regretful for ruining your friendship. Oh my god. This was so much more than just that. Jungwon’s thoughts raced around as his heart pounded in his chest. 

He opened his mouth to respond, to say something, anything, but you were already talking. Your words were spilling out like a floodgate that had finally been opened.

“I love you,” you let out, the words escaping your lips with a mixture of relief and fear. “I’ve loved you for so long, and I’ve been denying it to myself, to everyone. I didn’t know what to do with my overwhelming feelings, so I-I hid them,” your voice broke as you said the last part.

Jungwon started to speak, his voice gentle and caring, “It’s okay, Y/N. We don’t have to talk about th-”

“No, let me finish,” you interjected. “If you don’t let me say this now, I’ll never get the courage to do it again. Taking a deep breath, you continue, “I don’t know when I stopped seeing you as an older brother or a friend. You’ve always been there to help me, and I cherished our friendship more than anything,” you said, your voice softening. “But the truth is, I wanted more.”

There was only a deafening silence after you finished, and that scared you. “I’m really sorry, I should have told you.” 

“I wish you had,” Jungwon said, his voice low and thick with emotion, “I wish you had told me sooner.”

Oh. 

The words hung in the air like a heavy cloud, and panic filled your chest, making it hard to breathe. You ripped yourself away from Jungwon’s arms, the warmth of his embrace now feeling suffocating.

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

Why hadn’t you thought about that? Jungwon probably had a girlfriend already. To him, you were just a little girl crying about her silly little crush. You felt like a fool for thinking that he could even see you as more than just a friend. 

Jungwon reached out to touch your arm, secretly holding back a smile. But you didn’t see it because you were too ashamed to look him in the face. “Y/N, wait,” he said. “What are you thinking? Talk to me.”

But the panic had taken hold of you, and you couldn’t bear to face the possibility of rejection. Your heart was pounding in your ears, drowning out everything else.

“I-I should go,” you stammered, barely able to get the words out. “I’m sorry for…for everything, but don’t come find me anymore.”

You turned away, your walk breaking into a sprint as you hurriedly make your way through the crowd. You wished you could turn back time and keep your feelings hidden, but it was too late now.

In the midst of your inner turmoil, you didn’t notice Jungwon following closely behind you, his footsteps matching yours. He called out your name, his voice laced with urgency.

“Y/N, please stop,” he pleaded, finally catching up to you and gently grabbing your hand, forcing you to face him.

Tears streamed down your cheeks, and you couldn’t bring yourself to meet his gaze. “I can’t do this, Jungwon,” you spit out. “You don’t have to tell me. I know already.”

The only thing you hear is Jungwon let out a sigh, followed by a slight chuckle. Only then do you slowly look up, and you’re confused. Really fucking confused. Why was Jungwon grinning at you?

“What’s so funny?” you ask, your voice accusing, feeling humiliated. Does he think this is some type of joke?

Jungwon’s chuckle softens, “I’m not laughing at you, Y/N,” he says, his voice tender. “I’m just…relieved, I guess.”

Relieved? Your confusion deepens, and you can’t comprehend what he’s trying to say.

Jungwon smiles brightly as his thumb draws small circles on your hands, “I have a secret too.” 

〰

“Kim Y/N!” Sunoo’s voice rang out through the phone.

“What?!” 

“Hurry up!”

You rolled your eyes as you unlocked the frontdoor to the house, “I didn’t know you missed me that much,” you said sarcastically, walking up the stairs and stopping outside Sunoo’s open door.

Sunoo glared at you through slitted eyes, “Not me,” he grumbled, jabbing his thumb towards his bed. “Take your boyfriend away, he’s been whining this whole time about how you wouldn’t take him on your little hangout.”

You pouted at the boy that was now running towards you, engulfing you in a tight embrace, “I told you already. I was hanging out with my college friends.”

“I missed you,” Jungwon whispered against your lips.

“Get out!” Sunoo yelped. “It’s weird seeing my best friend and my sister together, let alone kissing,” he whined. 

The two of you only laugh as Jungwon picks you up, causing you to let out a squeal, and he carried you to your bedroom. 

“Close my door!” was the only thing you heard from Sunoo before you were gently thrown onto your bed, Jungwon crawling in after you. 

You nestled into Jungwon’s arms, feeling the comfort and warmth that came from being in his embrace. 

“You know, I never took you to be the clingy type,” you said, a mischievous grin spreading across your face.

Jungwon rolled his eyes playfully, a hint of amusement dancing in his smile. “Oh, come on,” he teased, pulling you closer and wrapping his arms around you. “Can you blame me for missing my adorable and amazing girlfriend?”

You let out a mock sigh, feigning exasperation. “I guess I can’t blame you,” you replied, resting your head on his shoulder. “After all, I am pretty amazing,” you grinned. 

Jungwon chuckled softly, his breath warm against your ear. “You’re right. How did I get so lucky?” he whispered, his voice filled with affection. “You’re the prettiest girl I’ve ever met.”

You blushed at his words, feeling your heart skip a beat. It was moments like these that made you fall in love with him all over again. He had a way of making you feel special, of making you feel cherished. 

“Flattery will get you everywhere,” you teased, lifting your head to meet his gaze. 

He grinned, his eyes sparkling as he smiled. “Oh, I know,” he said, leaning in to press a gentle kiss on your lips.

The soft touch of his lips against yours sent a delightful shiver down your spine. It was a tender, affectionate kiss that spoke volumes of the emotions he held for you. In that simple moment, your heart swelled with joy and love for him. 

As the kiss lingered for a moment, time seemed to slow to a crawl, and you felt like you were in your own little world. The gentle caress of his lips moving against yours sent sparks flying, and you found yourself clinging to his shirt, not wanting to moment to end.

Jungwon's arms, which were circled around your waist, began gently tickling your sides, making you gasp into the kiss. You let out a squeal of laughter, trying to squirm away, but Jungwon held you firmly in his arms.

"Jungwon, stop!" you giggled, squirming and laughing uncontrollably.

He grinned mischievously, his eyes shining with amusement, but he didn't relent. Instead, Jungwon intensified the tickling, knowing exactly how to make you laugh even more.

"Please," you breathed out in between laughs. "I can't breath," you laughed.

When he finally pulled back, a soft smile graced his lips as he pressed his forehead against yours. "You're adorable when you laugh like that," he whispered.

Blushing and still giggling, you playfully swatted at his chest. "You're just saying that to distract me from the tickling," you stuck your tongue out.

Jungwon chuckled, his eyes softening. "Maybe a little," he admitted, "but I mean every word."

You bit the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from smiling wider and snuggled closer to Jungwon. You could hear the beat of his heart, and you were happy that it was beating as fast as yours.

“You’re everything to me,” he whispered, his voice barely above a breath. “And I wouldn’t trade anything for you.”

Your heart pounded against your chest, and a million butterflies erupted in your stomach in the best way possible. You couldn’t help but return his affectionate smile. “I feel the same way,” you mumbled into his chest. 

“Thank you for telling me your secret.”

“Thank you for telling me yours.”

౨ৎ

tagging : @kcluv @jungwonismybias @mrchweeee @jwsszi @jhopesucker @ashgodash @luvbinniee @en-dazed @aishigrey @luvuwn @silentkarnival @fakeuwus @markerloi @abcdeonu @wonies-princess @aloloveswonie @amanda-archives @chaengswife @yukxin @kpopstanmeg (bold couldn't be tagged!)

a/n : hi guys! tysm if you read till the end! sorry for not releasing this earlier, i went through a rough writer's block and to be honest, i'm not that satisfied with how this turned out, but i thought you guys still deserved the happy ending that you were waiting for! hopefully this filled the void of the sad ending i left in part 1 (sorry about that again) but now yn and jungwon are happier than ever hehe. tysm for all your love and support! and like always reblogs, comments, and likes are vvv much appreciated! thank u for reading this story!

pew ~♡︎

#so cute #im gonna cry #jungwon as a brother's bff trope #is making me crazy #recs ⁝ yang jungwon #yang jungwon ⁝ fics

[jaeyunwrld]

WHO THE HELL IS NI-KI ?! - NRK SMAU

; SYNOPSIS - school sucks. especially when everyone's avoiding you like the plague - all because you're the principal's daughter. so it comes as a surprise when a strip of paper falls out of your locker one day, with a corny pick up line written on it. now you only have one question on your mind: who the hell is nishimura riki?

; PAIRING - riki x fem!reader

; STATUS - ongoing!

; TAGS - smau, fluff, crack (more like attempt at humor), high school au, riki is a menace, hyper x calm dynamics?? ; WARNINGS - swearing, dirty jokes/pick up lines (maybe??)

; AUTHOR’S CORNER ! i just love starting something new before finishing my other wips 😍 i've made it so the first part of the pick up line is on the masterlist here, and the punchline is on the title of the actual chapter. this is inspired by this pjo smau on ao3 (LMAO??) + my own experiences bc i also slipped a bunch of pick up lines in random lockers

SPAM LIKE = BLOCK !

➼ PROFILES ! losers club ; riki's pr team

PROLOGUE ! all the good pick up lines are taken…

ONE ! i don't need google anymore...

TWO ! i’m so jealous of ur phone…

THREE ! are you fortnite?…

BONUS ! let's play a game of tag...

FOUR ! do you listen to newjeans?…

FIVE ! "nothing is faster than light"...

SIX ! something is wrong with my phone…

SEVEN ! do you play quidditch?...

EIGHT ! this doughnut is pretty sweet…

NINE ! you look familiar, did we share a class?…

TEN ! we should probably social distance…

ELEVEN ! are you 0x1 = lovesong?…

TWELVE ! are you an unfunny meme?…

THIRTEEN ! hey, is it morning yet?…

13.5 ! i can’t hold a conversation…

FOURTEEN ! instead of liking my message…

FIFTEEN ! your hand looks heavy… ↳ written [2.1k] + smau

SIXTEEN ! be careful bumping into others…

SEVENTEEN ! are you a trap?…

EIGHTEEN ! are you the children i keep in my basement?…

NINETEEN ! is it the fire works…

TWENTY ! i’ll give you a kiss… ↳ written [1.5k]

EPILOGUE ! i can’t think of any more pick up lines…

; TAGLIST (open!) perm . @lovelovelovebts @miyseung @babyy-bambii @haechansbbg @gweoriz @maoyueze networks . @kflixnet @k-films @/k-labels . send an ask or comment here to be added!

#SOOOO GOOD #mimi does so well every single time 🙏🏻🙏🏻 #my bae right there🤭‼️ #recs ⁝ nishimura riki #nishimura riki ⁝ smau

[jaeyunwrld]

who the hell is ni-ki ?! - THIRTEEN

; SYNOPSIS - school sucks. especially when everyone’s avoiding you like the plague - all because you’re the principal’s daughter. so it comes as a surprise when a strip of paper falls out of your locker one day, with a corny pick up line written on it. now you only have one question on your mind: who the hell is nishimura riki?

THIRTEEN …or is it your beauty lighting up the room? 🌟

— TWELVE ; MASTERLIST ; 13.5 ; FOURTEEN

; TAGLIST - @riziwon @gweoriz @yenqa @miyseung @beomgyusonlywife @luvlee1313 @wildflowermooon @pookikisses @j-wyoung @n0t-kc @chiiiiiiiiis @ghostiiess @mrchweeee @jjongshrts @luvistqrzzz @lilriswife4life @aikoluvssyouu @cholexc @bahngchatsfx @teddywonss @woniewonn @artstaeh @thesassy-mia @moaqong @itsactuallylina @armydrcamers @mowagyu @yumilovesloona @ibsysbsfsunsbs @ashy1um @ahnneyong @jakelux @jaeminri @sweet-kisses-and-bloody-screams @ririlovesrenjun @sloobydooburmomjungwon @kyanmeai @lazy-miya @bbybearcubbs @hwasfavgf @girlhees @seungified @softieluvsyou @flwoie @y0iy0i @microwvdstrawb3rri3s send an ask or comment on the masterlist to be added .

#THE BLOCK #LMAOOOO #JUNGWON DESERVED #BUT #works well for a man in denial like riki #recs ⁝ nishimura riki #nishimura riki ⁝ smau