sleepingrenjun

[sleepingrenjun]

won't let you go (this time)

pairing: lee heeseung x fem!reader

summary: back home for good after a semi-unsuccessful first year at university in a new city, you’re looking forward to getting back into the routines of your old life in the town you grew up in but the one person you’d been desperate to see doesn’t seem too pleased about your return :(

genre: angst.. ......... fluff, smut, college au, exes to lovers, second chance romance, slow burn

warnings: minors dni, british in a way that's not vague (might be vague.. it's hard to tell when ur british), so so long, sad heeseung, long paragraphs..

word count: 36,007 .. (apparently, i'm in a competition with myself to see who can write the longest fic)

playlist: seasons wave to earth, understand keshi

author's note: writing this fic was like pulling teeth and then cooking pasta out of it.. bUT IT'S DONE !!! also one of these scenes is smth i reworked from a fic i posted to wattpad in 2021.. thanks @asahicore for the beta u rock ! and as always be lmk ur thoughts (positive/negative/anything) 🤍

fic taglist: @enhastolemyheart

Lee Heeseung had often imagined what it would be like when he saw you again. 

Sometimes, he envisioned you standing on his doorstep, playing with the cuffs of your sweater. Other times he’d dream up a chance encounter at the local grocery shop, where you’d be distracted and bump the end of your trolley into his. He’d even pictured a sun-soaked vacation, a gorgeous white sand beach where the temperature would be inching past the thirties. You, laying out on a patterned towel, lost in the pages of a book, and your pretty face obscured by its cover. Yet, even with the sun in his eyes and his poor vision, he’d recognise you without a doubt. 

Regardless of circumstance or setting, in all of his hazy daydreams, you’d look up at him with unbridled love in your eyes and say the words he wanted to hear all those months ago: I choose you. 

Heeseung had always imagined that his heart might glow in his chest, through his shirt like something from Jane the Virgin, and you’d know you made the wrong decision. 

But sometimes, typically when in an alcohol-fuelled state of despondence, these images would be rougher around the edges. Heeseung would be hot, with bleach-blond hair and thick dark brows—a walking, talking beacon of sexual energy when you’d see him. In his head, it would happen at a party or a club somewhere, and he’d be too busy talking to another girl to notice you, his arm hanging off of her, lust clear in his eyes. Somehow, even in sweatpants and an old hoodie of his, you’d still look as beautiful as always. 

“Heeseung,” you’d say, completely crushed with tears welling up in your eyes under furrowed brows. “I choose you.”

Reluctantly, he’d draw his eyes away from the girl and notice you, finally, and a smile would spread on his lips, a mean one, condescending. He’d shrug, wrapping his arm tighter around the girl and say, “You’re too late.” He wouldn’t mean it, but he’d say it just to drive you crazy. Make you beg him to take you back for months until he felt you’d suffered enough—as much as he had. 

These thoughts were few and far between and mainly followed by hot, guilty tears rolling down his cheeks because he knew it was his fault. After all, he was the one to let you go.

For now though, the little round table in Mark’s backyard seats four, and, in the arms of a balmy summer night, Heeseung chooses the seat closest to the fence. The garden light is still busted so in his seat of choice, furthest from the kitchen door, he’ll go completely unnoticed but still see anyone who might join him outside.

His phone is freezing when he takes it from his pocket and unsurprisingly holds no notifications beyond the outsiiiide text he’d gotten from Jake before the party started. Through Instagram stories, Heeseung watches the night play out from the perspective of people who are enjoying themselves while ignoring the voice in his head that tells him he could be one of those people if he tried. 

Maybe he was a fool for believing that tonight would go differently and that the boys would keep their ‘bro’s night’ promise for longer than it took to cross the threshold—but it’s not like he blames them. Maybe he was a fool for believing he would find more company than his somewhat abandoned bottle of Peroni that watches him mockingly from the glass table. 

He grimaces after taking a sip from it, remembering that he was only ever carrying it around so his friends wouldn’t feel the need to load him with shots. Now he’s not so sure that would’ve been a bad thing, seeing as he’s completely sober and aware of the tightness in his chest as he scrolls through the text thread he’s had pinned for years. Its end came abruptly; revived only by an ignored blue bubble saying: i heard you’re back home for the summer.. 

Seeing it now, he regrets hitting send even more than he did two weeks ago. Heeseung hates himself for believing the boys when they said it was a good thing that you opened the message right away. “Means she’s thinking of u 2 dude,” was Jake's message to the group chat (along with four bicep emojis and two red exclamation marks). Jay replied: i hope you guys can talk things out! And Sunghoon didn’t say anything. 

All your conversations bring up memories that hurt more than the last but he has to take a break when he reaches a text you sent last January: i had so much fun tonight, hee, idk how to thank u enough :((( i hope ur not in too much trouble.. i love you i love you and i’ll love you forever !!!

He ended up getting grounded for three weeks and lost car privileges for months after staying out four hours past curfew, but he’d do it a million times over if it meant he’d get to see you as happy as you were that night on the two-hour drive back, running your fingertips over the Sharpie autograph of your favourite author on the book’s front page—“Heeseung?” 

His jaw falls slack and his whole body stiffens. If you don’t count old videos in his camera roll, Heeseung hasn’t heard your voice in over a year. The back door slides shut and when he finally lifts his head, he wants to throw up. Even without the glow of the kitchen lights on your face, he’d still be able to make out the cute point of your nose, and the slight curve of your soft lips. Unfortunately, the breakup only seems to have made you even more beautiful and he hates himself for wishing you were having a hard time too. 

“Hey,” you say. “Can I sit?” 

Regaining his mobility, he moves his shoulders in a stiff shrug. The sound of your chair scraping the concrete makes him cringe and he hates that you chose the seat closest to him. 

“I didn’t think you’d be here tonight.” 

Heeseung scoffs, his brows furrowing defensively. “You didn’t think I’d be at my friend’s party?” 

You set your jaw. “Okay.” 

An unbearable silence follows, so heavy he can feel it sitting on his shoulders, weighing him down. There’s no way to know how much time has passed but he feels less tense when you start to hum, drumming your fingers against the table to the beat of whatever song the kitchen door is struggling to muffle. If he doesn’t think too hard about the lingering quiet, it feels like everything is okay between you two. 

His heart races when you giggle. “You still do that?” 

“Do what?” 

You smile before mirroring his expression, puffing up your cheeks and exhaling dramatically a few times. Due to the heat, nothing comes of it but you laugh anyway. “You always liked when it was cold enough out to see your breath. I remember having to nudge you every night of summer to get you to stop.”

To Heeseung, there’s something sinister about the fact that you can so easily bring up a memory you share with him. About the fact that even after what happened, his cheeks heat up just from seeing you grin. He deflates, unable to look at you, finding interest in the label on his bottle instead. It’s slightly curled up at its edge, and he runs his thumb over it a few times before peeling it off completely—with some struggle, leaving a sticky patch in its wake. Under your loaded stare, he folds it a little to make a square before trying to craft a swan or a crane (you were the one who knew these things) from the sticker. 

Your hands are just as soft as he remembers when your fingers touch his, though it shocks him so much he drops the label, immediately withdrawing his hands and, for lack of a better option, sitting on them. Even softer than your hands is your voice when you say, “I don’t want things to be so tense between us.” 

It must be easy, he thinks. For you to say something like that after dumping him. Heeseung wants to laugh, to let his head fall back and cackle from sheer disbelief; you really must have some nerve. Instead, a bitterness, raging and sour, works in his chest, choking the laughter into silence. It pushes his lips into a scowl as he lifts his head to look at you. You’re shivering with your arms crossed over your chest and Heeseung softens. Without thinking, he shrugs off his flannel to drape it over your shoulders, almost regretting it when he fixes his tongue to scold you playfully like he used to. Still too hot for a jacket, right, baby? he wants to say. This is the last time I’m doing this for you, next time you’re on your own. Heeseung figures that somewhere, in another reality where you’re still together, a version of him says these things but continues to give you his flannels and jackets anyway.

He’d give anything to be that Heeseung instead. 

Over the last year, he’s been replacing the clothes in his wardrobe. He noticed that during your time together you steadily wore every t-shirt, flannel, and hoodie he owned. Now, as you thank him with a sincere smile, he realises he’ll have to donate his new favourite shirt too. 

“What’s in your pocket?” you ask, reaching in to find out. A bleak carton of cigarettes sits full in your hands as you look over at him with wide eyes. “You smoke now?” 

“No.” Heeseung shakes his head. “Never.” 

Back and forth between your hands, the box and its contents rustle. “Really? Because this—” You pause to pull a lighter from the same pocket. “—and this tell me something different.”

“Sunghoon’s quitting again,” he explains, with air quotes around the word quitting. 

“Oh.” You let out a laugh, nodding fondly. “He’s on, like, five weeks or something by now, though, right? Surely you don’t still need to carry these around for him.”

His head tilts so quickly he hurts his neck. With knitted brows, he inspects you. Nothing about your expression seems like you’re trying to hurt him, in truth, you look like you’re being quite sincere; your eyes are wide, curious, and your lips are quirked up at the corners with an amusement he adores. “Six,” he corrects. “How do you know?” 

“He told me.” 

“You guys still talk?” 

A shoulder-dropping sigh falls from your mouth as you put the cigarettes and lighter back in his pocket, raking a hand through your hair. “You’re the only one who doesn’t talk to me anymore,” you say in a small voice. 

The five of you stuck together in high school — where he and Jay first met you, Jake, and Sunghoon — and he knew it would be unreasonable for him to expect your shared friends, especially the youngest two whom you’d known longer, to turn on you. He also figured, given how close you’d grown to Jay, and his undying rationality, that his best friend would outright refuse to shun you on Heeseung’s behalf. Even though they didn’t need his permission, he told them that he didn’t want them to feel like they had to pick sides and that he was perfectly happy for them to keep talking to you. On one condition: that none of them tell him anything about you or your life without him unless you’re hurt—a condition they’ve clearly carried out more faithfully than Heeseung expected them to. 

Bile rises in his throat thinking about all the things your friends have kept from him about your year away. His heart twists over mundane details like your class schedules and favourite things to eat for lunch, and his eyes sting with tears over the important stuff like new friends and, worst of all, new partners. 

Heeseung jolts out of his chair, knocking the table so hard with his thighs that his bottle tips over. You’re quick to catch it. “My mum’s calling,” he blurts out, overwhelmed. 

“Heeseung.” 

“I really have to go.” 

“Heeseung!” you call out, but he’s already back inside. 

You don’t follow him. 

But that was in June, and now it’s September. 

While his friends complain about the chill of autumn, Heeseung’s just happy he can comfortably wear hoodies everywhere again. In a cool lecture hall, home to his Ethics and Responsibility class for the next few months, he relishes the feeling of soft cotton against his ears as he copies the course reading list into the first page of his notebook. 

“Is someone sitting here?” 

Heeseung’s stomach sinks to the floor. Reluctantly, he lifts his head, and through the gaps in his bangs, he sees you and the way your face falls when you see him, instantly looking around the room. 

“Oh,” you say, eyes blown. “I’m sorry, I’ll just..” you trail off.

He scans the room, chewing his lip when he realises that, despite the lecturer not having arrived yet, the seat to his left, with his backpack on it, is the only empty one. “It’s okay,” he says, trying to seem nonchalant as he takes his bag from the chair and puts it on the floor. 

“Thanks,” you mumble, frowning a little as you sit down. 

In the light of day, he really sees you and a lone butterfly, one he was sure had died with the rest last year, flutters lazily in his stomach—wings buzzing against the lining, tickling him. Even with messy hair and tired bags under your eyes, you’re just as beautiful as the first time he saw you. It’s unfair, he thinks. That you could be dealing with this and still manage to look presentable. Jealousy kills the butterfly, stirring a pit in his belly at the thought that you were able to break up with him and continue with life as normal on the other end of the country, making new friends and new memories as if nothing happened. 

Even when Dr. Kim comes in and starts the class, Heeseung can’t take his eyes off of you. You haven’t lost any of your mannerisms, he notices when you stick your tongue out a little while typing notes as the lecturer says them, barely looking up from your laptop to see the slides. 

At the end of the lecture, all he has to show for it is the reading list and a couple of bullet points that seemed important as he copied them from your screen. Side by side, you silently walk down the stairs to leave the room, and the sight of Sunghoon through the doorway pulls a relieved sigh from Heeseung’s chest. 

Sunghoon’s brows raise seeing you together and he clears his throat when you’re close enough. “Hey, you two! My little study buddies,” he says in a strained voice. “First day back! First day for you, YN, what was that like?” He sounds like he’s reading from a script as he walks between you. 

Heeseung lets you answer, listening to your voice as he walks behind you down the stairs. He wonders if things will be this way forever, briefly contemplating throwing himself over the bannister so he doesn’t have to find out. If you’re uncomfortable, you don’t show it, talking excitedly with Sunghoon about the class, mentioning things Heeseung hadn’t even heard, despite having sat through the same hour-long introduction lecture as you. He trails behind the two of you all the way to the library, where Jay is sleeping with his chin on his arms and Jake is staring at the table of contents in his textbook. You cut yourself off, jogging over to the table they’re sitting at to wake Jay. As soon as you wrap your arms around him, he flinches, waking up with his brows pulled together. 

“What are you doing?” Jay mumbles, trying to shake you off. 

As Heeseung sits beside Jake, he skims over the front page of the textbook, trying to remember what tensile strength means. Sunghoon stands at the end of the table looking at his phone, and you sit next to Jay, pulling your seat a little closer and letting him rest his head on your shoulder. Heeseung looks away, trying to bury the unease building in his stomach. 

Sunghoon breaks the silence. “Can we go get food?” And suddenly, you all stand up, filing out of the library towards the Tesco Express down the road. 

Jay and Sunghoon take the lead, picking up their lunch without much thought before waiting in line at the self-checkout, while you, Jake, and Heeseung spend an ungodly amount of time weighing up options in front of the meal deals. Heeseung gets the same thing every time but looks at every single sandwich, drink, and snack option just in case before picking up his food. 

“Just cheese is crazy, bro,” Jake says, shaking his head. “What’s wrong with you?” 

Heeseung shrugs. “It’s reliable.” 

“It’s absurd.” 

You hum between the two of them, tilting your head thoughtfully. “I don’t know, I think it’s cute.” Your shoulders rise and fall in a casual shrug, almost as if you haven’t just paid Heeseung a compliment for the first time in a year and three months. 

Jake’s eyebrows raise, a grin playing on his lips as he glances between the two of you when you step forward, pulling a just cheese sandwich from the shelf too. “Cute,” he repeats. “Sure.” 

Outside, Jay and Sunghoon are sitting on a half-finished brick wall, and while normally, Heeseung would say something to interrupt Jay’s never-ending lecture series on making the most of your meal deal, he doesn’t want to draw attention to himself or the small smile he’s struggling to keep off his face. 

“Hoon, think about it,” he says, resting his giant can of Red Bull on the stepped brick next to him. “A meal deal costs £3. You get a sandwich, a drink, and a snack, all for £3. You, foolishly, bought a sandwich, a snack, and a bottle of water, you gave them money.” 

“Yeah, man, anyone who shops anywhere gives money, that’s, like, an entry-level requirement.” 

“But I’m taking money from Tesco, you get it?” 

Jake sighs, taking a seat next to Sunghoon. “You’re technically right, but you still paid for your food under a promotion Tesco created. If you really wanted to take from Tesco, you should be stealing your lunch. Also, the sandwich he got was £2.85, and there’s more water in his bottle than Red Bull in your can, so I actually think Hoon got the better offer today.” 

Beside Heeseung, you roll your eyes, wrestling with a packet of crisps while juggling everything in your hands. Seeing your struggle, he reaches over, taking hold of your drink and sandwich. “Thanks,” you mumble, smiling. You glance towards Jay and Sunghoon, then back at Heeseung. “Are they always like this?” 

He nods with a slight frown. A tiny laugh comes through your nose as you nod too. 

During the walk back to campus, as you split your sandwich with Sunghoon, Heeseung has an unsettling realisation. If he wants to get you back, he’ll have to start out being your friend. He’s not too sure what that will look like, seeing as the two of you were friends for six weeks — that he spent hopelessly in love with you — before he asked you out. All he knows is he wants to be the one you share your lunch and link arms with unthinkingly. While he assumes that your shared friend group and three out of four classes will naturally lead to friendship, things might go better if he makes an effort.

He doesn’t.

Not today at least. The second and last class of the day ends much like the first, with a heading in his notebook, and slowly reviving butterflies in his stomach every time your knee bumps into his under the desk. Again, neither of you says much as you leave the class to go meet Jay in the library. He’s awake this time, grinning at the girl across from him. 

“They’re so cute!”

“They’re talking.” 

“Yeah, in a cute way. Look at the smile on his face,” you say as if anyone could miss Jay’s grin or the way it widens when he notices you and Heeseung staring. 

Yunjin immediately looks over, waving before getting out of her seat to come over. She greets Heeseung with a hug before flinging her arms around you, gushing about how it’s been so long. Heeseung feels his brow raise when you giggle and  say, “We hung out two weeks ago.”

She loosens her hold on you, looking down into your eyes with a shocked look. “Yeah, two weeks too many. What are you doing later?” 

It feels like Heeseung skipped a chapter and his stomach hurts when he realises he has—a whole year's worth of the contents of your life. Of course, Jay already introduced Yunjin to you, of course, you’re already friends. 

Leaving you with Yunjin in the library, Heeseung and Jay walk back to their flat. They take the long route home, through the winding bike path and over the creaky footbridge by Sunghoon’s old apartment. Jay is eerily quiet, only responding in nods and hums—this silence means one of two things, he’s either too exhausted to speak or he’s saving his words to reprimand Heeseung at home. 

Outside their flat, Jay hesitates, gripping the handle tightly before turning to Heeseung. In his eyes is a familiar look, the one he typically wears before telling someone off and Heeseung bites his tongue lest he pisses Jay off even more. A few times, Jay opens his mouth but doesn’t speak, exhaling a deep sigh as he rests his head against the door. “I want you to know I’m on your side, sort of,” he says. “If it’s too hard being around YN, we can always hang out together instead, just us.” 

Jay’s key clicks in the lock and Heeseung watches, shocked. He didn’t expect that at all. 

“It’s not like it’s hard, just weird, you know?” Heeseung runs a hand through his hair, leaving his shoes by the door while Jay locks it before following him into the living room and sinking into the couch. “We have the same friends, so I can’t avoid her, but I don’t think I want to.” 

“Like I said, we can just hang out on our own if we’re on campus.” Jay pauses for a beat, clearly pleased by whatever he’s thinking about as a smile spreads on his face. “It might do you some good being around her though, like, to see why none of us want to date her.” 

The offer is generous and Heeseung spends a while considering it. But as Jay said, it probably would be a good thing to hang out with you if he wants to build the friendship he finds himself craving. 

“It might also do you some good to, you know.. start looking nice again. It’s been a year, dude, and she’s back now, don’t you want her seeing what she’s missing out on?” 

Heeseung cocks his head to the side, surprised and honestly a little offended. “Are you saying I’m ugly now?” 

“No, I’m saying it probably wouldn’t hurt to put some essence in your hair, touch up your roots, and, you know, use deodorant.” 

Reflexively, he grabs the pit of his hoodie, bringing it to his nose and sniffing furiously. The only thing he can smell is fresh detergent and he looks at Jay with a frown. “So you think I should change everything about myself basically.” 

“I hate to be the one to say it..” Jay trails off, head falling back in contagious laughter. “Seriously though, if you want her back or, at least, want her to miss you, start putting some effort in.” 

Heeseung’s eyes are wide as saucers. “She doesn’t miss me?”

“You spent the whole day together, why would she miss you?” 

“So she doesn’t.” 

“I didn’t say that.” Jay shrugs. 

Outside, a cloud moves away from the sun, letting it shine right through the window and into Heeseung’s eyes. He squints a little, groaning before bringing his arm over his face to shield himself. Jay laughs and Heeseung flips him off. “You didn’t really say anything.” 

“Are you crying?” Jay coos. 

“Sure.” 

“Too bad, I’m taking a nap. Club later?” 

Heeseung grunts in response, considering taking a nap too. 

A dramatic sigh tugs its way from Jay’s chest. “Look, it’s not my place to say, but she told me a few months ago she was miserable in first year, something about wanting to see some guy she dated in high school.”

“You knew she was coming back?” Heeseung practically jumps in his seat, sitting up straighter. “You knew I’d see her today and you let me leave the house looking like this?” It’s not like he looks bad in his oversized black hoodie and sweatpants but he might have taken the time to do more than run a hand through his hair this morning if he knew.

Jay holds his hands up defensively. “You said you didn’t want to hear anything about her unless she died. I was just doing what you told me to.” 

“I think it goes without saying that that would’ve been a nice thing to know.”

“Noted.” Jay nods. “Club later?”

Despite saying no, Heeseung finds himself at the club anyway, having a friendly dance battle with Jay while you hype them up, filming blurry videos with your finger over the camera lens. Jake and Sunghoon came out too but went off to find girls. 

Heeseung spent all of pres and the journey to the club worrying about being drunk around you. Or rather, worrying about being drunk around drunk you. Drunk you who typically gets clingy and oversentimental just looking at a bottle of vodka, or brings up old memories and uses pouty, gloss-coated lips to say things without thinking of the consequences. For better or for worse, you haven’t done any of that yet. 

Between knocking back drinks and rivalling the club photographer, you find time to make a look of disgust every time a guy comes near you, immediately shaking your head and pressing yourself against Heeseung before mumbling an apology in his ear each time, even though he tells you it’s okay. Your admirers start to dwindle when he dances with you to a song you like, letting you hold his hand and pull him closer, all while wishing he’d stayed asleep on the couch. 

It’s only when the fifth guy shows up with a stupid smirk on his face, that Heeseung speaks up. His arm finds your waist and he holds you close as he looks at the stranger. “Dude, leave her alone,” he says, angling his shoulder to him in an attempt to shield you. “She’s not interested.” The weight of his words is lost on him until the guy rolls his eyes, shrugging and mumbling whatever as he leaves. 

He saw how uncomfortable you looked after being approached and hated how long it took for you to start enjoying yourself again, so in the moment, it seemed like the right thing to do. To look after you. But now, as he stands with his hand on your waist, his skin touching yours at the hem of your shirt, he’s starting to feel like he’s crossed a line. It’s the worst possible time to freeze in place but there’s nothing he can do about it, and Jay staring at him, with wide eyes and a dropped jaw, isn’t exactly helping. 

With embarrassment burning his cheeks and neck, Heeseung finally looks down at you. You look almost as shocked as Jay for a split second before letting your hand rest on his chest, smiling. The moment feels endless until you lean up to his ear and Heeseung has to bend down a bit. “Thank you, Hee,” you say, still smiling when you pull back. 

All he can do is nod, smiling too.

Over your head, he sees Jay grinning and the heat returns to his cheeks. As if suddenly aware of your position — your hands now resting on his shoulders, chests held together by your grip on each other — the smile falls from your face as you take a huge step back, bumping into Jay while Heeseung’s hand slips from your body. 

“Let’s get more drinks!” you yell to Jay, slinging an arm over his shoulders to pull him away. 

On his own, Heeseung dances to three whole songs, only stopping when Yoo Jimin wraps her arm around him, holding him in the world’s tightest hug. “Lee Heeseung, did I just see you all over a girl?” The interaction takes him by surprise, seeing as he hasn’t actually spoken to her since before summer. “Let’s go for drinks soon, to say congrats on finally moving on!” 

This, of course, is when you and Jay finally return. Jimin notices before he does. “Be good to him,” she yells, smiling, and never letting go of Heeseung. “Bad breakup!” 

You stand there, holding two drinks so tightly your hands start shaking, causing one to spill over your fingers. A strained smile spreads over your lips as you nod. “Right! I’ll try!” 

As quickly as she appears, Jimin vanishes with a smile on her face, pleased with herself. You visibly relax, handing Heeseung his drink and swaying to the music again. Just like at high school parties, you let Jay sling his arm over your shoulders as you dance together. Back then, you’d dance with all of your friends while waiting for Heeseung to return, usually with a cup of water for you to drink, but tonight, with Heeseung standing there, it seems like he’s as good as dead according to you. 

It’s around 2 a.m. when you and Jay decide you’ve had enough, with Jay struggling to keep his eyes open. After failing to locate Sunghoon and easily finding Jake with his cap on backwards and makeup all over his mouth and cheeks, the three of you let him know you’re going home. 

As seems to be the unspoken rule amongst your friends, Jay walks between the two of you while trying to convince you both that if you had fun tonight, there’s no reason to regret having gone out. Even if it means you’ll be sitting in class holding your eyes open. Heeseung ignores him, conspiring out loud about Sunghoon’s whereabouts—getting lost on his way to the restroom or finding an ice rink out back. 

For a while, you entertain him before sighing. “I saw in the chat, he said he’s out talking to a girl he saw wearing a band shirt—Nirvana.” 

The notion is so surprising that Heeseung almost stops in his tracks. Jay voices his shock with a raised brow and an incredulous tone. “Hoon listens to Nirvana?” 

“No, but she’s pretty. I had to send him a screenshot of their popular songs on Spotify when one of her friends came over looking for a lighter.” 

At Jay’s request, you and Heeseung spend the rest of the walk back to your flat trying to name fifteen Nirvana songs. By the time you reach the lift in your building, you’ve successfully listed nine and the three of you stand inside while you look for your keys. On your doorstep, you pull Jay into a tight hug, whispering something in his ear that makes him laugh as he pats you on the back and says, “You probably could.” 

Pathetically, Heeseung hopes you’ll hug him too. With no hesitation, you do, arms locking around his neck, leaving him with flushed cheeks and a racing heart. “Thanks for looking out for me,” you whisper, lingering by his ear before burying your face in the base of his neck. 

Heeseung holds his breath, counting to twelve before you lean away from him, your arms in place as you look up into his eyes. “I’m always going to look out for you,” he manages to say. He can already hear Jay teasing him about it when they’re alone, but the smile on your face is worth it. 

In your doorway, you wave goodbye and they wait outside until they hear your lock clicking before heading home, where Jay doesn’t tease Heeseung at all. 

Turns out, getting home at 3 a.m. when he has a class at 10 o’clock doesn’t fit in amongst any of his better ideas, but still, he gets out of bed and gets ready, heeding Jay’s advice and scheduling a hair appointment on his way to class. 

As soon as he sits down, he gets a text from Jay: thinking of getting smth pierced later, come with? 

Heeseung: what is smth.

Jay: cartilage probs

Heeseung: im getting my roots done at 5

Jay: okayyyyyyy good shit man !!! tmrw? 

Heeseung: 👍👍👍

It shouldn’t surprise Heeseung that you look good, but the sight of you walking through the door in your zip-up hoodie and jeans almost knocks the wind out of him. You’re holding your notebook to your chest, stopping in the middle of the stairs and sighing when the white strap of your tote bag slips from your shoulder to the crook of your elbow. You apologise to the people behind you before rushing up the stairs to Heeseung’s row, putting your things down and slumping into the seat beside him. The room suddenly feels warmer when you take off your hoodie and next to you and your bare arms, his heart starts to race.

“Do you have, like, an interview or something?” you ask, doodling in the margin of your notebook, filling the space with pretty butterflies that make his heart race.

Heeseung, who hasn’t looked for a job in two years, panics. “No?” 

“Oh.” You nod slowly, looking away from him. “A date? Maybe?” There’s something in your voice that makes him want to say yes and see your reaction, but the look on your face makes his stomach turn. 

“No, ne—just no.” 

“You can tell me if you’re going on a date.”

“Why would I go on a date?” 

You shrug, gesturing to his outfit. Heeseung looks down at himself and the cream-coloured cardigan he’s wearing. “You just look nice, that’s all,” you mumble after a while. Suddenly, Jay’s Prada loafers squeezing his toes doesn’t seem so bad and Heeseung sits through the whole lecture with a smile on his face. 

The leaves yellowed on October first, and unfortunately for Heeseung, the last two weeks didn’t play out how he hoped they would. Of course, he knew that you flinging your arms around him and confessing your love was probably a far stretch. But this is torture. You only talk to him when the rest of the boys are around, and even then, you only say things like, what time does class start? and do you have a pen I can borrow? 

His nice outfits don’t let up, but his hair is so long these days that you don’t take any notice of the throbbing hole through his cartilage that Jay somehow convinced him to get. Or so Heeseung tells himself because his ears stick out as far as his shoulders. 

Today marks the first time he’s sat in the library during the day for more than ten minutes, and it’s surprisingly busy. Most of his library trips take place in the early hours of the morning, playing his way through the Papa’s Gameria franchise on the computer next to Jake, who spends several minutes at a time staring at his fancy engineering software before clicking the mouse and staring again. So seeing the steady flow of students come in and out, setting up camp at their tables with headphones and thick binders, while groups of friends whisper amongst themselves, leaning back in their seats and gasping every now and then feels like a culture shock.

There’s about an hour until your class finishes, and he’s been sitting here for two hours already since his Music and Identity class ended, wondering if he’s making a mistake by waiting for you. Especially because he knows you’re not expecting him to. He’s at a table right by the library’s entrance, so you’ll see him on the way out and it can feel like a chance encounter. Uncharacteristically, he’s used this time quite wisely, deciding to go through the reading he was given on the role music plays in maintaining cultural identity among diaspora communities and making notes in the margins of his handout until your class is done. 

Impatience starts to settle in after thirty minutes so he texts you to see to ask if your class is over yet. Immediately, your response lights up his screen: yeah about an hour ago but i stayed home lmao what’s up :) 

Staring down at the message, he sighs, thumbs hovering over the keyboard as he tries to come up with something to say. This goes on for a while until he realises what he’s doing and his heart clenches. How did you go from spending every waking moment texting each other to clutching at straws for a valid reason to talk? 

At the very least, the smiley face you sent is doing wonders for his declining mood. 

Heeseung settles on, “i just left office hours and wanted to know if anyone was still around haha,” before hiding his face with his hands. 

oh nooooooo :( sorry dude, you reply. how’d it go? 

In the six years he spent by your side, he’s never known you to use the word dude—at least not with him. By the looks of things, it seems like your time away was spent studying Jake’s texting patterns or a secret other thing that makes his head hurt when he thinks about it. 

Sighing, Heeseung types back: good! had a couple questions after sem but it went well! 

You react to the message with a heart but don’t reply. He doesn’t have enough time to think about what that might mean because Mark approaches the table, clutching the straps of his backpack with a grin on his face that makes Heeseung feel at ease, like a wide-eyed first year riddled with anxious excitement. 

“You look good, man. You going somewhere nice later?” Mark asks, dapping him up. 

Heeseung shakes his head. “Just home.” 

“Nice.” Mark nods, gasping after a beat. “Did you hear? I made captain!” 

“That’s major, dude, congrats! I knew you would.” If anyone deserves to be team captain, it’s Mark Lee. He was captain of the basketball team in high school and vetoed his spot to Heeseung when he graduated. Two years later, when Heeseung came to college, Mark had been enthusiastic about him joining the team too. 

“I’ve been thinking that my first official act as captain should be getting you back on the team?” Mark’s voice tips up at the end, his brows raising hopefully. 

The last time Heeseung was on the home court, he cried with the ball in his hands because he overheard someone in the crowd saying they didn’t think he could make the shot—they were right. He laughs, shaking his head. “Way too much pressure in uni basketball. Thanks for thinking of me, though.”

“I’m not giving up on you,” Mark says, crossing his arms over his chest. “Oh, I hear your birthday’s coming up, can I host?” 

“Host what?” 

Mark’s hands clap soundlessly as he laughs. “A party, obviously! Twenty’s a big one! I’ll text you the deets, alright?” he asks, though it doesn’t sound like Heeseung has a choice because Mark’s already walking away, still laughing to himself.

In Heeseung’s eyes, there’s nothing better than knocking back (more than) a few bottles of soju with friends and singing your heart out in the four walls of a karaoke room. Worried about killing the mood, he enjoys from a distance, staying glued to the booth, ad-libbing for the boys and polishing off their drinks as discreetly as he can. The table is adorned with a collection of empty bottles and buckets of feasted-upon fried chicken that still envelop the room in a mouth-watering aroma, while a green strobe light pierces the air as Jake and Sunghoon wrap up their cover of Party Rock Anthem. 

By the time Jay manages to convince Heeseung to sing something, he’s four bottles in and searching for the most heart-wrenching ballad he can find. Sofa by Crush has always been his favourite karaoke song. Even when it first came out and he was in a happy relationship; even at home, alone in the kitchen, using a broom handle as a makeshift microphone, singing until his voice went hoarse and tears stained his shirt. 

It feels like fate when the song’s title flashes across the screen in big bold letters and he knows there’s no real way to ignore destiny, so he chooses it and stands up from his seat. Weighed down by alcohol and an aching heart, he stumbles to the front of the room to stand with his back to his friends. Clutching the mic until his knuckles turn white, he takes a deep breath, letting the intro wash over him before singing. He gets through the first half of the song before practically caving in on himself, too moved by the lyrics to stay on two feet. To Heeseung’s credit, he’s always had a beautiful voice, so he’s not exactly tanking in that respect, but if he was even a tiny bit more cognisant, he’d scrape himself up from his knees and finish the rest of the song in the same light-hearted way everyone else had.

The lights shift through red and blue, casting a pretty glow over the dim space and streaking purples and pinks all over the walls—aesthetically, the room is as moody as Heeseung feels. If he had eyes on the back of his head (or picked himself and his dignity from the floor) he might notice the way everyone else in the room is struck by his sadness, with all three boys sitting in solemn silence as a drunk Jay records the whole thing. 

Tired of watching his friend fall apart, Sunghoon gets up from his seat, muttering dick at Jay for filming before taking the phone from his hands and cutting off the recording. He lifts Heeseung at the armpits like a baby and takes the mic. Clearing his throat, Sunghoon half-heartedly finishes the rest of the song while Heeseung cries into his shoulder. Their duet scores them 63 points and Jay spends the next few minutes texting. Heeseung appreciates Sunghoon’s efforts, crying more as his emotions oscillate from love for his friend to yearning for you, all while Jake attempts to lift the mood with a genuinely moving performance of Highway to Hell. From the way he’s air-drumming and bouncing his leg to the song, anyone could tell that Sunghoon is desperate to join in, but holding back for Heeseung’s sake. With a hiccup, Heeseung wipes his tears with his sleeve and throws himself out to the front, accompanying Jake with an air guitar. It’s only during the start of the second verse that Jay and Sunghoon join in, and a full-fledged rock band moment falls upon them as if gifted from heaven. 

After another hour of singing and drinking, Heeseung and Jay race up their apartment building’s stairs. Panting heavily, with his heart beating in his throat, Heeseung’s knees ache when he reaches the top — though caught up in catching his breath and the sight of you sleeping against the doorframe — he can’t even celebrate his win. 

“Huh,” Jay says when he joins him. “How’d she get here?” 

Heeseung can only shrug in response. 

Suddenly self-conscious in your presence, he stands up straighter, pushing some of his hair off his forehead. Jay moves from behind him, approaching you, but Heeseung’s too hung up on the way you hold your jacket tight around your body to do the same. He wants to though—wants to help you out, pick you up and hold you in his arms, kiss your forehead and lovingly scold you for staying out in the cold. But he’s not drunk enough to convince himself you’ll take that well. 

Instead, he remains glued to the spot, watching Jay wake you up, only mobilising when you’re on your feet, stretching your arms above your head. To you, the sliver of skin peeking out where your shirt ends and your jeans begin is a fleeting detail, lost entirely under a veil of just-risen drowsiness. Yet, to Heeseung, it’s everything. It’s enough to make him want to beg you for a second chance right then and there. But he’s not drunk enough to convince himself you’ll take that well either. 

You’re talking with Jay and there’s a crease in your brow when Heeseung reaches you. Your voices were too quiet to make sense of with the distance but now he hears you loud and clear. “You told me almost two hours ago that you guys were leaving soon,” you sigh, rubbing your neck. 

Jay snorts, missing the keyhole a few times before catching it. “Should’ve just joined in, stupid.” 

“It was boy’s night and you made it very clear that I don’t count. And when I asked what bar you guys were at, you just said doesn’t matter, leaving in ten, and, by the way, none of it was spelt correctly. It felt like you were using code.” 

“Caesar Cipher, perhaps?” 

“Pig Latin, more like,” you scoff, leaning against the wall. 

A mischievous grin spreads over Jay’s lips and Heeseung already hates whatever he’s about to say. “Ixnay on the Eeseunghay.” Yeah, Heeseung hates it. He glances between the two of you, picking up on the smile you can’t hide as you roll your eyes. 

Your gaze finds Heeseung’s and your lips curl into a frown as you look back at Jay. “Otgay ityay.” You nod firmly. 

From context — and memories of numerous private conversations the two of you used to have in his presence — he figures it’s Pig Latin, a linguistic puzzle more intricate than any the English language has ever thrown at him. 

After a beat, you nod towards the open door. “Get inside.”

You follow the boys in and lock the door when Jay hands you his keys. He quickly heads to his room, leaving Heeseung shifting his weight from one foot to the other in the living room, staring at you. Save for Jay’s bedroom, all of the lights are off. The only light shines through the open blinds, a vivid orange beam coming from a streetlight outside, casting a harsh shadow over the room. The terminator line is stark—a clear partition between Heeseung, who’s standing in the shade, and you, who stands in front of the window, backlit by the warm light. You’re glowing. Or, at least, the lighting makes it look like you are—outlining all your edges in soft orange. 

Absently, he plays with the zipper on his jacket—unsure of what’s going on or why you’re here at all. It takes a while, but the words finally escape him. “What are you doing here?” Simultaneously, you ask if he’s okay. 

Even in the dark, your smile warms the room. For you and Heeseung, speaking in unison like that isn’t anything new, so it’s not enough to rouse a reaction from him—nonetheless, he smiles too. Whether by way of drunk optimism or his own sudden acceptance, Heeseung’s starting to feel as though maybe just being by your side, making you smile, might be enough for him. 

“Jay texted me, and I wanted to check in and see how you’re doing.” 

“What did he say?” 

“That you were having a hard time.”

Heeseung nods slowly. 

“Actually, he said—” You pause to check your phone. “—Jay said, worried but hyung he is m let down. I think he meant meltdown?” 

“Hyung,” Heeseung repeats, tilting his head as if the word is foreign to him. A crease runs along his brow, Jay is way drunker than he let on.

“Huh,” you utter, tilting your head too. “I actually thought m let down would’ve gotten a bigger reaction out of you.” 

A moment passes, and then another before Heeseung says, “You can sit if you want. I don’t know if you’re going to stay long or anything, but you can always sit here.”

You smile and he can hear it, watching you take your coat off before sitting on the couch. It’s a bit of a stretch from where you’re sitting but you reach over to turn on the lamp in the corner and Heeseung sits too, as far away as he can. You look comfortable, like you’re supposed to be there and the thought warms his heart.

“You didn’t have to come here. I’m happy you did but you didn’t have to,” he says after too long. 

A frown tugs your lips down. “Of course, I did. I care about you, Heeseung, you know that.” 

Now doesn’t seem like the time to argue, so he makes a mental note to mull over this later. “I know,” he lies, his voice nothing more than a mumble as he nods. 

“Did you guys have fun?” 

Deciding it best to pretend his Crush cover went well, he nods again, smiling as he thinks about the nice parts of boys’ night. With your encouragement, he talks happily for a while about their song choices and the way they all came together in the end. “I feel like we’d get on pretty well as an AC/DC tribute act.” 

“Do you know what room you were in? There’s got to be a way for me to pull the security footage and see for myself.” 

“I actually think Jimin works there, she might be able to hook you up.”

“Jimin?” you repeat in a different tone. The shift is so subtle that Heeseung barely picks up on it, never mind placing it or knowing what it might mean. If he were any more delusional, he might think you’re jealous, but the curiosity in your voice tells him to get out of his head. 

“Yeah, this one girl in the year above,” he explains. “She transferred to humanities so we had a couple classes together last term.” 

“Oh, cool.” 

He really can’t work out your tone and it’s disconcerting. Maybe he should talk about Jimin some more. “She’s like mega smart, and really nice too. She was actually at the club that night! The girl I was talking to when you and Jay went to get drinks,” he says, suddenly remembering. 

“Good for Jimin.” 

“I think you’d like her.” He smiles. “You know, if you’re looking for friends or anything.” 

You only nod, pressing your lips together and leaving Heeseung at a complete loss for words. He watches you chewing on the inside of your cheek, playing with the thread bracelet on your wrist. “I’ve always loved your voice,” you mumble, looking down.

“I know.. You used to beg me to stay up on the phone singing for you.” Heeseung presses his lips together after speaking, mentally locking them and throwing away the key.

You nod with a smile on your face that makes his stomach flutter. “You’re, like, the best guy ever.” 

That makes sense. That Heeseung could be like, the best guy ever but not quite good enough to stay with. He mulls over your words and contemplates setting himself on fire. Standing up from the couch, he goes over to his room. From the doorway, he says, “You can share Jay’s bed, it’s too late to go home by yourself.” 

Heeseung closes his door with plans to stay inside the whole night, but only manages an hour before he gets sick of the stale taste in his mouth. He leaves quietly, and in the light from outside, he sees you sleeping on the sofa with your hands tucked under your head. His heart sinks. Without much thought, he carries you to his room, tucks you in and runs away before doing something stupid like kissing your head to go and brush his teeth. Unlike you, he’s not afraid to wake Jay up, pushing the boy over to make room for himself on his bed, where he lays awake for hours trying to figure out what went wrong with you two until his head starts to hurt. 

In the morning, Heeseung doesn’t see you before you leave, but he spends the better part of an hour with his ear pressed against Jay’s door, eavesdropping on your conversation. If you weren’t talking about him he might feel guilty about this, but you are, so.. 

“I just feel bad, you know? I don’t know how to fit into his life and I feel like I’m only making things harder for him by being here,” you say. “Harder for everyone.”

Heeseung grips the doorframe until his knuckles turn white. He’s spent too much time thinking about how to be your friend without actually trying to be, too caught up in his own feelings to see how he’s affecting everyone else. The corners of his lips droop at the thought. 

“We’re happy to have you back, Heeseung too. He’s just.. hurting, you know? I’m not sure if you heard but he kind of got blindsided and dumped by his high school girlfriend,” Jay says. 

You laugh drily and he pictures the way you roll your eyes. “Hey, uh, random Q, what do you know about Jimin?” 

Jay’s quiet for a bit. Or he’s whispering. Heeseung presses his entire body to the door as if it’ll help. “Yoo Jimin?” he asks. 

“Probably. Heeseung’s friend.” 

“She’s cool,” he answers simply. “You’d like her.” 

“So I keep hearing. What’s going on with them?” 

“Nothing really. They met at some party last year, both pretty drunk, and somehow ended up in a random bedroom where she tried hooking up with him.” Jay’s words strike Heeseung like a jolt, his heart pounds and his stomach twists. It takes a lot for him and the knot in his stomach not to burst out of the room and clear things up. The main thing stopping him though, is that Jay’s telling the truth. “But he misread the whole thing and ended up detailing your entire relationship for two hours,” Jay adds after a while. 

“And now?” 

“Why do you care?” Jay’s tone is teasing but the question makes Heeseung spiral. 

His mouth starts to dry up at the thought of you admitting that you don’t care, that you’re over him and just being nosy. Panic swells in his chest and he jumps away from the door as if it’s red hot, scrambling back under the covers of Jay’s bed and falling back asleep. 

In the following two weeks, Heeseung finds himself mastering the art of avoidance. He fills his evenings with pick-up basketball games with Mark on random courts in the neighbourhood and rushes out of class before you have the chance to talk to him. Playing with Mark is fun, but he can’t ignore the regret festering within him, a persistent thorn in his side. Fortunately for him, Jay, whether knowingly or not, presents him with a potential turning point. He’s invited you and the boys over for pres before his party, instructing Heeseung to get his shit together and acknowledge your existence. 

On the night before his birthday, the apartment echoes with your voice, yelling at Jake to get off the floor. Sunghoon’s cackles only get louder, filling the space. Behind his closed bedroom door, Heeseung catches a panicked glance of himself in the mirror, running a hand through his hair and adjusting his bangs. He lingers in his room as long as he can, trying to put off seeing you.

Jay opens the door without knocking, a lazy grin on his face and a slight sway in his stance that tells Heeseung he’s drunk already. “What are you doing? We’re waiting.” 

“I don’t know,” he admits. 

Rolling his eyes, Jay lets out a tired groan. It’s an unspoken scolding that Heeseung heeds immediately, following him into the kitchen, where Jake is messily pouring shots on the counter. He doesn’t see you anywhere, but Sunghoon distracts him, cheering and wrapping his arms around him—also drunk already. “She’s in Jay’s room, Yunjin called,” he says. “Oh, yeah, happy almost birthday, man. Twenty is crazy.” 

By the looks of things, Sunghoon’s on a mission to kill Heeseung. Twenty shots for his twentieth birthday doesn’t sound like as much fun as Sunghoon thinks it does, it sounds like a punishment or a death sentence. Heeseung — put off by the smell of vodka — manages four shots before tapping out, deciding that he’d quite like to remember tonight and wake up on his birthday without a headache.

Heeseung’s eyes widen when you show up in the doorway, a confusing sense of surprise washing over him. It’s not like he didn’t know you were here; he heard you earlier. It’s just that your sudden presence catches him off guard. His heart skips a beat and a sudden rush of nerves courses through him. He takes in your appearance, his eyes tracing every inch of you before meeting your eyes. As you run your hand through your hair, you smile at him, so pretty and genuine that he can’t help grinning back.

Your dress is beautiful, of course—black satin, he thinks, with pretty pink ribbons tied into perfect bows on the top, and you’re the only girl Heeseung’s ever wanted in his life. 

A whispered whoa falls from his lips, which seem to rest in an ‘o’ as he stares at you. You’re looking away from him now, focused on the tequila puddle Jake’s left on the counter, grabbing some paper towels to mop it up. Jay snorts beside him, nudging his ribs hard. “You’ll catch flies, Heeseung. Come on—decorum, please.” 

Heeseung clears his throat, running a hand through his hair and wiping his palms on his pants, but he doesn’t make any moves towards you. 

“Do something,” Jay mumbles. 

He nods in response, repeating do something, over and over in his head until he finally approaches you. “Hey,” he says, breathless. His heart hammers in his chest when you look up at him, beaming. 

“Heeseung,” you say. “Happy almost birthday. How’re you feeling?” 

Before he has a chance to respond, you wrap your arms around his waist, and like it’s the most natural thing in the world, his arms fall around your shoulders, holding you close. It’s perfect. Some combination of your warm scent and alcohol causes the butterflies in his stomach to rage, fluttering so frantically he thinks he might be sick. 

“Insane,” he admits. 

He can hear you laughing, feeling your chuckles against his chest. “You know, what?” You lean away from him, arms still around his waist, eyes locked on his and a soft smile on your lips. “Me too.” 

An odd weakness settles in his knees, a dizzying flutter alighting his entire body as he nods. Over his shoulder, Sunghoon calls for him, chanting, “More shots! More shots!” For a while, Heeseung ignores him, watching you until he feels his ears heating up at the top. 

“I think I have to go,” he mumbles, eyes locked on your lips. They curl up into a crooked grin, and you use a hand to pat his chest. 

“Good luck.” 

Heeseung takes a deep breath when you let go of him, taking shaky steps towards his friend, who’s grinning widely enough to show his fangs. “Sorry to interrupt, I think you could use the help though,” Sunghoon says, holding out a shot glass to him.

He shakes his head at the shot, taking it from Sunghoon’s hand and placing it down on the table. “I need a minute.” 

Sunghoon only shrugs, taking the drink himself, knocking it back with no visible reaction, and Heeseung thinks he must be a monster. “I really think you could fix things tonight,” he says afterwards, pouring another. 

Instead of taking this in stride, Heeseung decides to pretend you don’t exist after hugging you—it’ll be easier that way. To him, this looks like staring at you in your pretty dress and snapping his neck in the opposite direction when you look over at him. 

To appease Sunghoon, he takes another three shots and has to sit down, overwhelmed by the way his cheeks burn and how the kitchen starts to tilt around him. His mouth is oddly dry; a sensation that has nothing to do with you or the way you look in your dress. This time when you catch him staring, he smiles. 

Even in his beyond-tipsy state, Jay manages to ensure everyone leaves the flat before requesting an Uber. Heeseung finds himself sitting cross-legged on the pavement, for some reason, scrolling through his camera roll. 

“Car’s here, get up,” Jay eventually mumbles, nudging his back with the tip of his shoe.

With some stumbling, Heeseung stands up, dusts off his pants and heads to the car. Jay holds the door open for you, and as you slide across the backseat, your dress rides up. Heeseung screws his eyes shut, shaking his head to clear his thoughts, like resetting an etch-a-sketch. Jay’s hand claps his back as he instructs him to get in, which he does. Hesitantly, he slides into the middle seat, glancing to his right to see who’ll be joining you. 

“You’ll thank me later!” Jay calls out, closing the door. 

Before he even has a chance to shift over, your hand lands firmly on his knee, silently urging him to stay put. With a pounding heart, he complies. The back of his hand brushes against your thigh as he fastens his seatbelt, and the feeling of your soft skin against his leaves him breathless. He feels afloat when the car starts moving. A few minutes pass before you take your hand from his knee, mumbling an apology as you place it on your lap, idly playing with your fingers.

Mark lives about twenty minutes away, leaving Heeseung with something close to sixteen minutes to think of something to say. R&B from the early 2000s rumbles through the speakers in the car, vaguely explicit lyrics alluding to something he’s craving fill the space around the two of you, wrapped up in your warm vanilla scent and the fresh peppermint gum you’re chewing. To put it simply, there’s not a coherent thought in his head he could express that wouldn’t get him into trouble. 

“I didn’t know you were on the basketball team,” you say after a while. “Well, I did know, but you know.” 

“I don’t know,” he admits quietly because he has no idea what you’re talking about. 

A beat passes before you speak again. “How was your day?” 

The first thing on his mind is what falls from his lips. “You look beautiful,” Heeseung blurts out, trying to ignore the tinge of anxiety that’s irritating his stomach. “Your dress is.. It’s really pretty,” he adds, feeling as though he won’t lose anything by putting everything on the table. 

“Thanks.” You smile. “You look beautiful too.” 

Heeseung’s breath hitches in his throat and he looks down at his outfit in the dark. If Jay hadn’t interfered, he’d be wearing a hoodie and sweatpants right now, but he’s happy with the simple striped shirt and loose pants Jay suggested, even if it leaves him a little chilly. “It’s, uh, it’s actually my birthday party tonight,” he supplies uselessly.

You laugh, and it’s the best sound he’s ever heard. “I kind of just meant in general.” 

“Me too.” 

The car falls silent as he lets his head fall into the space between the headrests and closes his eyes. When you reach Mark’s house, he opens them and finds you staring with a smile. “I thought you fell asleep,” you say.

He shakes his head, sliding over the backseat and opening the door. He didn’t expect you to leave from the same side as him, but he likes the heat on his cheeks as he closes the door for you. Wordlessly, the two of you go through the gate and join Jay, Jake, and Sunghoon who are sitting cross-legged on the porch, giggling around a shared joint. He has no idea how they arrived before you did. 

Heeseung isn’t sure how he loses you guys but it’s not until his third round of beer pong that he actually notices. Lee Jeno and his red eyes are a poor shot, barely managing to throw the ball without hitting Heeseung’s chest or dropping it before he gets to aim. He almost feels bad for the guy when he sinks another one of his cups, watching Jeno frown before pinching his nostrils shut and taking a big gulp. 

Jay’s sudden presence startles him, though he’s quick to grin at his best friend. The smile isn’t returned. Instead, he leans up to Heeseung’s ear, yelling that YN’s crying before nudging his way out of the room. His heart sinks and he offers no explanation to Jeno, following Jay upstairs and into the bathroom where he finds you, sitting on the floor, crying into Sunghoon’s shirt while Jake watches with a frown, picking at his nails. 

“What happened?” 

Jake talks with a hushed tone while Sunghoon helps you up before leaving. “She didn’t say anything, she just asked us to go to the bathroom with her and started crying.” He opens his mouth to continue but Jay yanks him out of the room, closing the door. 

“I’m not, like, upset or anything,” you say after a while, wiping your eyes with the back of your hands. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I’m sorry. I really didn’t want to ruin tonight for you so I told Jake not to say anything, but obviously, he didn’t listen.” 

“Jake did the right thing telling Jay, none of us want to see you upset.” 

“I’m not upset.” You hit Heeseung’s chest with a weak fist, crying more. “Why does everyone think I’m upset?”

“It might be the tears,” he offers, feeling good about making you smile. 

“Yeah, maybe.” 

“Are you using a new liner? Mascara? You still look good.” 

You take a look in the mirror, resting your hands on the edge of the sink. “Yeah, I discovered waterproof makeup in first year.” 

“Is it harder to take off?” 

“Definitely, but it’s worth it, I think, for nights like this.” 

“Yeah, right.” Heeseung nods, watching you carefully as he sits on the edge of the bathtub. It’s like being in high school, seeing you like this. Most of the parties you went to were spent in the bathroom, with Heeseung holding your hair back and trying to calm you down after throwing up. He misses all of it except the vomit. “Are you okay?” 

Catching his gaze in the mirror, you nod but look down at your hands when he says your name. “It’s just a little harder being back than I thought it would be.” 

“Oh.” 

You sigh, playing with your hair as you sit down next to him. “Obviously it’s great seeing the guys all the time, seeing you all the time, but everything’s fucked and we act like strangers and it’s killing me not being able to just..” you trail off. Heeseung is clearly drunker than he feels because it looks like your eyes are stuck on his lips. After a beat you slide away from him, moving until your back hits the wall. A mixture of frustration and something else colours your face. “I just don’t like treating you like a stranger and I don’t know how to fix it.” Before he has a chance to think or to say anything you ask him for the time. 

“It’s 12:23.” 

“Happy birthday!” you say, smiling. “Am I the first to say it?” 

“You’re always first.” Even last year, you sent a text at midnight, so Heeseung’s not sure why there’s a surprised look in your eyes or why it’s making him want to kiss you more than usual. “You don’t have to treat me like a stranger if you don’t want to,” he says carefully, trying to get you both back on track. 

“I don’t know how I’m supposed to act around you.” 

His voice is soft when he says, “Honestly, neither do I.” 

“I wish I never left.” 

“Everything happens for a reason, I guess.” Despite the small smile on his face, he’s still trying to understand what reason you had. 

An exhaled laugh comes from your nose and you nudge him. “Were you secretly trying to get rid of me?” 

“You caught me,” he sighs, holding out his hands in defeat. “I had this whole elaborate plan. I was going to fake my death, but you saved me the trouble. Thanks for that.” 

Both of you share a genuine laugh and the tension in the air eases up a bit. Heeseung’s eyes meet yours; a brief moment of silence follows. You clear your throat. “I’m sorry for leaving. I really wish things could’ve been different.” 

It can’t be your intention to hurt him by saying that, but you do, leaving Heeseung feeling the full spectrum of his emotions. A pang of hurt, of longing—hurting himself even more as he thinks about the could-have-beens. He purses his lips, looking down at his shoes. “Me too.” Sick of the tension, of his feelings, he glances at you, sitting up a little straighter. “How about we start fresh? Clean slate?” 

“Clean slate?” you echo, raising an inquisitive brow. 

Heeseung nods, determined, extending his hand for you to shake. “I’m Heeseung.”

“YN,” you chuckle, taking his hand in yours. 

He holds onto it, a playful grin tugging at his lips. “Funny, you look just like my ex.” 

Your eyes widen, amused. “Wow, Hee, you always know just what to say.” 

The two of you sit quietly for a moment, but Heeseung’s just glad you’re not crying anymore. He feels lighter now, hopefully you do too. Standing up, he holds out a hand to help you get to your feet which you take, smiling up at him as you straighten out your dress. 

“You know,” he says, clapping his hands together. “For a second there, I thought I’d need a manual on how to talk to you again, but I think we’re doing pretty well.” 

Heeseung feels pleased with himself when you laugh, rolling your eyes and nudging his chest with your hand. “Shut up,” you say, light and playful. 

“Are you ready to get back to the guys?” 

You smile at him, nodding before quickly turning back to the mirror. “Do I look okay?” 

It doesn’t make sense to Heeseung that a girl as beautiful as you could ever look just okay. Even with the slight swell to your glassy eyes, you’re the most perfect person he’s ever seen. But he can’t say that. So instead, he pulls a sharp breath through his teeth, tilting his head a bit and raising his hand in a horizontal gesture, his fingers wobbling as if balancing an imaginary scale. A  non-committal sound escapes him, a soft eh before he laughs at the way your jaw drops. 

You punch his arm. “Heeseung!” 

“Come on, you know you look great,” he mumbles, looking away to hide the flush in his cheeks. The sound of your lips spreading into a smile makes his stomach flutter as he opens the door to find Jay, Jake, and Sunghoon sitting cross-legged in the hall in front of it.

“Birthday boy!” Jay yells, springing to his feet and flinging his arms around Heeseung. 

“And YN!” Jake adds from his seat. 

Heeseung hears you saying thanks to Jake before sitting next to him. 

“So, did you two kiss and make up or what?” Jay’s attempt at whispering is futile and somehow Heeseung’s cheeks burn even more as he frees himself from his friend’s hold. 

“Kiss, no. Make up, yes.” 

“Playing the long game, I like it.” Jay grins, patting Heeseung on the back. “Sit down, let’s talk.” 

Heeseung sits in the space next to Sunghoon, holding his legs awkwardly to his chest. He’s not entirely sure what’s happening and he feels like he’s not drunk enough anymore to fully relax into it, until you leave Jake’s side, crawling over to Heeseung and resting your head on his shoulder. In the dim hall, the boys shuffle around but it’s too dark to see what they’re doing—not that he cares much at this point, letting his head rest on top of yours and closing his eyes. It almost sounds quite pretty when they start singing Happy Birthday, and Jake has a tiny lunchbox cake in his hands when Heeseung opens his eyes. Its purple-frosted TWENT-HEE is disrupted by a half-smoked joint stuck in the centre which the flash on Sunghoon’s phone provides a makeshift flame for. 

“Make a wish!” you squeal, clapping your hands. 

It takes three attempts for Heeseung and Sunghoon to coordinate the timing between his exhale and Sunghoon turning the flash off, but the candle is blown out, and, right now. Heeseung has everything he’s ever wanted. 

Almost. 

Heeseung wakes up pressed against the wall with an arm wrapped around his waist. An embarrassing surge of excitement courses through him as he thinks about your conversation and puts his hand over yours. What he’s met with is less of the softness he’d anticipated, and more of the coarse skin and defined knuckles he’s come to recognise as Jake’s hand under the duvet. It only takes a look over his shoulder to make sense of why Heeseung’s nose is grazing his bedroom wall. Behind him is Jake, who’s being spooned by you, and behind you is Sunghoon who’s clinging onto your frame for dear life, even in his slumber. Evidently, Jay’s had a successful night and with his unwavering loyalty to Yunjin, it’s not hard to figure out what happened in the room across the hall.

With his eyes pressed shut, desperate to clutch some more sleep, he hears you mumbling. “Park Sunghoon, if you don’t wake up and let go of me, I’ll kill you,” you say with a tone that frightens Heeseung and sets off a flutter in his stomach. The yelp and thud that follow seem to wake Jake up and he crawls over you to get out of bed, stretching his arms out above his head and making no effort to step over Sunghoon on the floor. You roll over in the bed, wrapping an arm around Heeseung’s waist and pressing yourself into his side. “Happy birthday,” you say through a yawn before getting up. 

He manages to mumble a thanks, butterflies running wild in his stomach and a flush creeping up his neck as he watches you leave the room, eyes stuck on the way your hips move in last night’s dress. He gets out of bed, sighing, untucking his shirt to cover the tightness in his pants before joining his friends in the kitchen. 

Hungry but unmoving, you and the boys occupy the three seats at the small kitchen table, harping on about the different things as Jake whines, begging you to keep it down. 

Heeseung’s first intense emotion as a sober twenty-year-old is betrayal. There are used dishes lying in the sink, plates, mugs, and pans — two of each — staring up at him, wafting the scent of a cooked breakfast, with no leftovers in sight, up to his nostrils. He sighs, wondering if it’s his responsibility as host, and eldest friend, to make more food for everyone, or if, as the birthday boy, he should sit around and wait for someone else to take action. Settling on the latter, he sights up on the countertop, sure to keep his back to you so he doesn’t have to see the low neckline of your dress.

Finally, Jay comes back, whistling an unfamiliar tune and twirling his keys on his finger when he reaches the kitchen. “Hello,” he says simply, leaning against the doorjamb as if he hadn’t single-handedly ruined Heeseung’s birthday. 

Sunghoon rubs his eyes, looking in Jay’s direction. “So now, if I want a nice breakfast after a night out, do I have to fuck you?” 

Jay’s cheeks flush as he looks at his feet. “I mean, I planned to cook for you guys when I got back.” 

“I don’t want your sloppy seconds,” he scoffs, slumping in his chair. 

“I do, Jay. Cook for me,” you say, gesturing toward Jay’s general direction making grabby hands at him.

With a gentle smile, he crosses the room and pats your head. “What are you in the mood for?”

“Anything,” you mumble into his shirt. 

Jay nods, going over to the fridge. He stands in front of it with his hands on his hips, completely still for almost two minutes and Heeseung only approaches him because he’s worried about the outside heat getting on all the food through the open door. 

“What are you doing?” he asks, uttering his first sentence of the morning. 

Jay clears his throat, scratching the back of his neck as he leans towards Heeseung. “I, uh, finished the eggs, milk, and bacon.” A nervous look covers his face before he continues. “And we ate your Hello Kitty pancake mix,” he adds, mumbling like he doesn’t want to be heard. 

Unfortunately, he is, and Heeseung’s mortified. “My Hello Kitty pancake mix?!” He takes a deep breath, pinching the bridge of his nose. “YN got that for me, we were supposed to make those together.” His voice is as whiny as his volume will allow, and he struggles not to stomp his feet. 

“Oh, you were? How’d that work out?” Jay’s words are cutting. 

“Okay, ouch.” 

“Dude, it was expiring next week. Plus, Yunjin just looked so cute when she saw it—I had to.” 

“What if I wanted to make them this week?” 

“You’ve had the box for two years,” Jay reminds him. “Think of Yunjin.” 

With a sigh, Heeseung actually does think of Yunjin. Although the girl he envisions is different from the one Jay wants him to imagine. 

They met on the first day of university. She had a guitar strapped to her back, and a huge amp in hand when she approached him. Her eyes were wide with nervousness or excitement; Heeseung couldn’t tell which. Immediately, she extended her free hand for him to shake. “Yunjin,” she said. 

“No.” He shook his head while pointing at himself. “Heeseung.” From the way she laughed at his stupid joke, he knew she was the next girl Jay would fall for.

Jay had a habit of falling in love with the first girl to do something nice for him on any given day. And then the next girl. But after hearing Yunjin talk about her gap year, spent learning guitar seriously, Heeseung had a feeling things were going to change for his friend. He was right. 

The memory, along with the satisfaction of having figured those two out from the beginning, brings a warm smile to Heeseung’s face. “You owe me.” 

“Yeah, whatever. I owe you,” Jay scoffs, though the slight furrow in his brow suggests genuine remorse. “Just so you know, they weren’t special or anything.. just pancakes, you know?” 

Heeseung chuckles despite himself. “Are you trying to make me feel better?” 

“Maybe a little,” Jay shrugs. To his credit, it works. 

At least until Heeseung’s stomach grumbles, a noisy reminder of why they’re standing there in the first place. He also learns the hard way that the fridge starts to beep when you leave it open too long. Jay laughs through his nose, closing the door with his elbow. 

“What are we eating?” 

Jay seems to think about this for a minute, tilting his head and suggesting McDonald’s. 

If asked, Heeseung probably wouldn’t have said he pictured spending the morning of his twentieth birthday squished between Jake and Sunghoon in a sticky booth, but he’s here and can’t find anything to complain about as he inhales his breakfast. Too caught up in the way his hoodie drapes over you, he listens half-heartedly as you all quiz Jay on his night. It seems like he’s being pretty tight-lipped about the whole thing but the dreamy grin on his face is hard to miss. 

Eventually, you all pile back into Jay’s car, with Heeseung sitting shotgun as a birthday gift, that he doesn’t get to fully enjoy because he falls asleep as soon as the car starts moving. He sinks into the front seat, a contented smile playing on his lips as the warmth of the sun and his full stomach lull him into a peaceful nap. 

At home, he thanks Jay before crawling into bed where he replies to messages before letting his head fall into the pillow.

His eyes don’t even close all the way before you come into the room. “Can I nap in here?” 

Heeseung nods, watching you get comfortable under his duvet. In a matter of seconds, you’re just an arm’s reach away, softly snoring with your back to him. Meanwhile, he spends four hours laying completely still, trying to convince himself that the heat radiating from your sleeping form doesn’t make him miss you more. 

At around 3 p.m. when everyone wakes up, you and the boys hurry away for various mumbled reasons, leaving Heeseung home alone, trying to practise his surprised face for whenever you’re all back with cake and a gift. 

You don’t return until Heeseung’s hair has started to dry after his shower, but you waste no time shuffling around the kitchen before coming back with a pretty cake and real candles with a real flame, singing for him again. With the way Jake’s rushing him, Heeseung can’t come up with a wish in time, so blows out the candles with a clear mind. 

“Woo!” Jake cheers, clapping around a wrapped present that he immediately thrusts into Heeseung’s hands. “Open it!” 

He barely gets to peel the first piece of tape before he jumps off the couch and kneels down next to him. “It’s LEGO! The Infinity Gauntlet, you know? And the best part is..” Jake pauses dramatically. “You get to put it together with your best friend, Jake! Right now!” His excitement is endearing even though he’s ruined the surprise. “The others can help too, I guess.” 

You frown at him. “I paid for the kind lady at the LEGO store to gift wrap that for us.” 

“Yeah, and she did great!” Jake grins. “Can I help you open it? Please, Heeseung, please. You’re taking forever.”

With a smile, Heeseung hands the box to Jake, letting him open it carefully before Sunghoon joins in, tearing the paper to shreds all while Jay records the whole moment like a proud father. All five of you are sitting on the floor now, covered in wrapping paper while Jake holds the LEGO set up like it’s his, blinking hard at the camera with a smile on his face, and it’s Heeseung’s favourite birthday yet. 

my girl: who wants to take me on a date?

Heeseung knows he should probably change your contact name but the notification still makes his cheeks burn in a way he thinks he likes.

jake: heeseung probably 

jake: idk tho

my girl: ok heeseung come to the museum with me for class

sunghoon: next time open with the museum thing holy shit.. i almost fucking volunteered

heeseung: when?

my girl: i would have rejected you hoon

my girl: whenever ur free !

Heeseung’s schedule always has a way of clearing up when it comes to you, and he skips pick-up with Mark to pick you up at your door that evening. You answer right when Heeseung knocks, sliding some rings onto your fingers with a smile on your face, saying, “Hello.” 

“You..” Heeseung swallows, nodding his head. He’s doing his best not to check you out but he really can’t help it when your jeans seem to fit like they were made for you. “Hi,” he whispers. 

“Hey.” 

He clears his throat, finally managing to unstick his gaze from your thighs and gestures in the direction of the stairs. “Shall we?” 

At the train station, you don’t object when Heeseung pays for your ticket, he didn’t mean to, his finger just clicked through for two tickets instead of one. He’s happy when you don’t make a big deal about it, only smiling and thanking him when he hands you the ticket. He stands close behind you, protective, letting the peak-time commuters nudge past him instead of you as you wait in line for the only working ticket barrier. You go through first and Heeseung quietly follows, trying to keep his eyes off your ass and praying that the rest of the day goes by more comfortably than it’s started. 

The train is packed too, so you stand by the doors and, again, Heeseung stands maybe a little closer than necessary, his arm above his head gripping the yellow handrail. “Why did you want to go to the museum anyway?” he asks, gulping when you look up at him. 

“I’ve always liked museums.” You shrug, playing with the buttons on your cardigan. 

“I know, it’s just.. You said earlier you wanted to go for one of your classes.” 

“Right. It’s a requirement for one of them. Visualising Culture,” you explain, looking him in the eyes. Suddenly nervous, he doesn’t trust his voice to speak so he nods, keeping his gaze fixed on yours. “Museum and Exhibition Studies.” 

“Cool.” 

“Yeah.” You nod and turn your head from him, looking through the window. 

Your eyes are stuck on the trees outside, blurring into each other, and his eyes are stuck on the side of your face, staring shamelessly for the rest of the journey. A tinny voice announces the name of the station you’re approaching, and you nudge Heeseung gently, a silent signal that it’s time to leave. Silence seems to follow you out of the station and into the museum, but he tells himself he doesn’t mind. 

For the last hour, you’ve been looking at artwork without taking note of anything or making comments, all while Heeseung observes you, wondering what you’re supposed to be doing for class. “What’s the point of this trip?” he finally asks. 

Without backing away from the painting, you turn your head to look at him, raising a brow. “What do you mean?” 

“Like, what’s your task?”

You chew on your lip for a bit before looking back at the painting. He can’t help but wonder if in all your time away you’ve been flexing some sort of elitist muscle, or if it’s come about as a result of your fancy exhibition studies class that you had to take a test to be accepted into. Finally, you lean away from the painting and use your phone to take a picture of the blurb before looking at him again. 

“I wanted an excuse to get someone to come to the museum with me and I wanted it to be you.” 

Your words are so cute and so honest that his heart warms in his chest, even as he ignores his sadness about the fact you felt like you needed an excuse to hang out. “You could have just asked me.” 

Considering his words, you frown, tilting your head at him. “You make it sound so easy.” 

“It is easy, or it should be, it’s us,” he says unthinkingly. Clearing his throat, he scratches the back of his neck. “I mean, that’s, like, the whole point of having friends, right? To hang out with them?” 

“Well.. yes. I just.. I don’t know.” 

Somehow, this makes perfect sense to Heeseung who only nods his head, moving on from the frame when you do. It’s nice watching you admire the art, to watch the soft smile that develops as your eyes scan the canvas. 

You like looking at the paintings when no one else is, to get up close and try spotting the brush strokes. You like imagining the artist and how they might have felt as they painted, and when the paint is thick, protruding from the canvas, when you can see streaks of yellow peeking through a sludgy green. You have a lot to say about the paintings and how they make you feel, and how they don’t make you feel, finding something you like in all of them.

After a while, you grab Heeseung’s hand and excitedly pull him through all the Ancient Egypt stuff, and he’s too happy that his fingers are locked with yours to worry about his aching feet anymore, and you’re so cute with your wide grin that he doesn’t have the heart to tell you he’d like to sit down. He hates you a little when the two of you take turns writing your names in hieroglyphs, and you somehow manage to maintain your neat handwriting. But you make up for it by writing his name too, drawing a pretty butterfly at the end that makes his heart race.

You start rambling about shabtis and how people were typically buried with a few, depending on their wealth and status, but Tutankhamun was buried with something like four hundred, and some of them were even painted to look like him. “Look at how pretty this one is,”  you say, grinning while holding your phone in his face with a picture of one. Your excitement peaks when you reach the big sarcophagus, and you let out a squeal when you open it and three kids run out, bursting into a fit of giggles. You’re excessively cute when you ask him to take a picture of you, and then make him take a video opening the front while you're ‘dead’ inside it. Which takes a few attempts because you’re laughing each time.

You tell him to delete those takes. He doesn’t.

Right when he’s expecting you to get out, you grab him by the wrist and pull him in with you, closing the front of it before letting go of him. Heeseung is certain he’s lived this exact moment before, but he was seventeen and you were giggling like crazy, feeling around in the dark for his shoulders to wrap your arms around before kissing him. He has no idea what he’s supposed to do or what you want him to do, and the feeling of your breath fanning his neck in the tight space isn’t helping. 

Silent minutes pass by like hours until a kid pulls the sarcophagus open. The light is blinding but Heeseung steps out, relieved, almost thanking the kid for saving him. You’re fiddling with your necklace and struggling to meet his eyes. When you do though, you shoot him an easy grin, laughing to yourself about nothing. 

“Do you want to get something to eat?” Drinks maybe?” you ask after a while, playing with the zipper on your jacket. 

Heeseung takes you to a restaurant where university students he’s only seen on Instagram walk around like they own the place. A tired-looking guy comes to take your orders before you even have a chance to take your coat off so Heeseung asks for a minute and the waiter leaves. There’s something in his demeanour though that makes it seem like you only have one full minute to make up your minds. 

“What do you want to drink?” you ask, holding the drinks menu out to him. 

Heeseung closes it, sitting it on the table. “Probably a beer.” 

You laugh at this. “You don’t have to act all manly in front of me.” There’s a soft look in your eyes like you mean it. 

“I actually like beer these days.” 

Your brows raise and your jaw drops before you utter the word whoa. 

“What?” he asks, suddenly self-conscious. 

You shrug, collecting yourself. “You’re just.. different now.” 

The very prospect of being different is shocking to Heeseung who prides himself on being pretty consistent with his behaviour. His brows knit together as he tilts his head. “Because I like beer?” he asks, scoffing slightly at the mere suggestion. 

“I mean, that’s part of it.” To his dismay, this seems to be the end of your sentence. He gives you a little nod, hoping you read his mind and elaborate like he wants you to. “You bleached your hair, pierced your cartilage, what’s next? Are you going to tell me you have a tattoo?” 

Heeseung feels his breath catch in his throat when you say the word tattoo but you don’t seem to notice. “It’s been a year,” he points out, folding the corner of his napkin, pressing his thumb against it with enough pressure to leave a defined fold and have it stick up a little when he lets go. 

“I know, it’s just.. weird, you know?” Your voice is small when you speak, soft and quiet, barely anything above the noise around you both.

Heeseung nods. He does know. 

“You’re weird too.” 

“How?” There’s a defensive tone to your voice that makes him chuckle. 

“You’ve always been weird.” 

A dramatic frown curves your lips and the waiter is back before you can object. Leaning forward slightly, he orders for both of you, the sharing platter of fried chicken, your French Martini, and his controversial draught beer. He doesn’t miss the way you raise your brows when he orders the beer, as if you’d been waiting to catch him out or something. After the waiter leaves, Heeseung meets your gaze briefly, matching the gentle smile on your lips before looking away. 

The drinks only take a few minutes and you thank the waiter before looking over at Heeseung, a mischievous glint in your eyes as you slide your cocktail over to him. “Do you want to try?” 

He nods, lifting the glass and moving the straw out of the way to take a sip from the rim. Nodding his head, he hums in approval, eyes widening. “It’s good.” 

You lean back in your seat, twirling the straw when he hands the drink back to you. “Yeah?” you ask, smiling triumphantly as if you made it yourself. “A normal person would’ve used the straw.” 

Heeseung can’t help but roll his eyes, liking the way you laugh. “Are you acting out because I called you weird?” 

“A little.” 

The waiter places the platter at the centre of the table with a small smile, that you match, clearly hungrier than you’d been letting on as you lick your lips at the sight of the chicken. Heeseung’s stomach grumbles quietly as the scent hits his nose and he feels like he hasn’t eaten in days when a plate lands in front of each of you. A comfortable familiarity settles over him when he lets you pick first, and he knows you feel it too from the sweet smile you give him before eyeing the food. You take a while considering every wing, even though all of the pieces are scarily identical, before picking one and Heeseung follows, choosing with much less care than you, but enjoying it nonetheless.

Under your light-hearted scrutiny, he orders a cocktail the next time the waiter comes around. It’s much better than his beer, and so quickly, one cocktail turns into two until both you and Heeseung are four drinks in, laughing over nothing and putting in an effort not to slur your words together. 

Time seems to pass at the same rate as your drinks, though neither of you seems to notice until you check the time on your phone and your mouth falls into a gasp. Heeseung does the same when you show him your screen, you only have ten minutes to make the fifteen-minute walk back to the station so you can catch the last train. 

He gets up to settle the bill as quickly as humanly possible before you grab him by the hand and book it out of the restaurant. Though breathless, he knows he can’t let up, running as fast as his legs will carry him as he tugs you along behind him. Somehow you still have it in you to cackle every time either of you trips up. 

Out of breath, you both slump into the first seats you find, sobering up a little after the run. He looks at you and feels his heart snag in his chest. “You okay?” he asks, huffing out a breath that pushes his bangs into the air.

“No,” you whine, pouting and resting your head on Heeseung’s shoulder. He lets his head rest on top of yours reaching his hand out to grab your own. He squeezes it gently, in a way he hopes is comforting. You lock your fingers with his before he can pull away and Heeseung’s heart starts pounding again. 

He doesn’t realise you’ve fallen asleep until the train reaches your stop and you don’t react. He doesn’t want to wake you up, nor does he want to let go of your hand, but he knows he has to. Heeseung nudges you gently, rousing you from your sleep. “Let’s go,” he mumbles. 

Stretching your arms above your head, you nod while yawning. 

You take tired steps alongside him on the short walk back to your apartment, not saying anything until you reach your doorstep when you yawn once more, looking up at him. “I actually had fun today, thanks for hanging out with me.” 

“Actually?” Heeseung raises a brow. “Did you think you wouldn’t?” 

You shrug, chewing on your lip. “I thought it might be awkward.” 

“It kind of was.” 

“Maybe,” you admit with a nod. “It was a pretty successful first date though.” Your eyes are like saucers as your hand flies up to cover your mouth. “Not in that way. I’m only saying ‘date’ because that’s what I said in the chat—I would’ve called it a date if Hoon came with me, you know? I didn’t see this as a date if that’s what you’re thinking. Because it wasn’t. And I didn’t.” 

“Mhm,” Heeseung hums with a sceptical look on his face, finding amusement in watching you scramble to correct yourself. “First dates are always awkward, baby, don’t worry.” The endearment slips out before he can help it, his heart stopping in his chest until he sees you smiling. 

“Well, yeah, but this wasn’t a date, baby.” 

“Are you sure? I mean, you made me pay for your train ticket, I paid for dinner and drinks. As far as first dates go, I’ve been a perfect gentleman all night.” 

“That you have.” You nod once, firmly. “I’m not going to pay you back or anything. And this is hardly our first date.” 

Heeseung grins despite himself. “Is this your way of saying I can bill you for our other dates? Do you have savings?” 

Your head falls back in laughter, the sound infectious as it falls from your lips. You sigh softly, straightening up after a beat and nudging his shoulder with your fist. “Stop making me laugh or I’ll do something stupid like kiss you.” 

His heart races in his chest, caught between your laugh and the thought that maybe that wouldn’t be such a bad thing. “I feel like if we pulled up a typical date timeline we’d be right on track for that, don’t you think?” 

“Heeseung,” you mumble, face softening. It doesn’t seem like you’re finding this funny anymore. Your gaze locks on his lips — a hyper focus that makes him press them together nervously — before snapping up to meet his eyes. You gulp. “Goodnight, thank you for today.” 

“Anytime.” 

“Don’t say that or I’ll take you up on it.” 

Heeseung shrugs. “You say that like I’d have a problem with it.” 

“You wouldn’t?” 

“Never.” 

A small laugh comes through your nose as you smile up at him. “I’ll see you, let me know when you get home.” 

“Got it.” 

Wordlessly, you open the door, crossing the threshold before saying goodnight again. Heeseung says it back, watching you shut the door and waiting for the lock to click before he leaves. 

He’s never drinking with you again. 

Heeseung feels like he’s settling into the role of your friend quite well. So well that he can spend time alone with you without the discomfort he felt in September. Maybe he’s taking liberties, bending the word friendship to suit him, but as you lie in his bed together, your head on his chest as you nap, he can’t bring himself to care too much. He knows he’ll get hurt by this at some point, but for now, he’s just happy to play with your hair and try his best to fall asleep too. You don’t stir when Jay opens the door, stopping dead in his tracks at the sight before him, tilting his head before closing the door quietly. 

Sleep never reaches him, but he pretends to yawn, rubbing at his eyes when your alarm wakes you up, making a point to stretch his arms over his head and only respond to you in a lazy mumble when you speak. “Whose idea was it to nap between classes, again?”

“I think it was yours.”

“Damn,’ you mumble, yawning again before laying back down, head returning to his chest as if drawn by a magnet. “I think ten more minutes, fifteen, and then we wake up and go back.” 

“Or we could skip?” 

The suggestion makes you jolt upright, fully awake now. You let your eyes drag over his face, and maybe Heeseung’s being hopeful or straight-up imagining things, but your gaze lingers on his lips for more than a few seconds before you gulp and meet his eyes. “Lee Heeseung trying to skip class? I never thought I’d see the day.” A smile spreads over your lips, turning into a laugh as you throw your head back. “That was funny, Hee. Let’s go.’

Heeseung’s brows furrow, watching you stretch your arms out in front of you. Was it so hard to believe he would skip class if it meant spending more time with you? His lips settle into a pout. “I’m serious.”

“No, you’re scaring me. Come on, let’s go,” you say, making no attempts to get up. 

To prove a point, Heeseung shifts under the covers, lying on his side with his back to you. “You go ahead, I’m staying.” 

You sigh but don’t get out of bed, only lying down next to him and draping an arm over his waist. “Ten more minutes.” You press yourself against his back and he feels his heart racing. As quickly as he feels it, you stiffen behind him. “I’m not crossing a line, right? Holding you like this? It’s always been easier to sleep if you’re next to me,” you say into his shirt. 

Remembering the way you would cuddle into his side during sleepovers, his heart aches, wondering if you had endured the same sleepless nights as him. Heeseung only lifts your arm to turn onto his back, pulling you onto his chest like you had been earlier. “Fifteen,” he says. 

Seeing as neither of you bothered to set another alarm, you sleep through class, only waking up when it’s dark out and Jay comes back. “I bought dinner, come eat,” he says, leaving the door open on his way out. 

Wordlessly, you both peel yourselves from bed, dragging your feet to the kitchen to wash your hands before joining Jay in the living room. Heeseung sits cross-legged on the floor by the coffee table while you and Jay sit on the couch. He’s not awake enough to fully register your conversation over the rustle of plastic takeout bags and his sudden overwhelming hunger, but you’re telling Jay to shut up, mumbling something and he lets out an exaggerated groan, clutching his chest when Heeseung turns around to hand over your food. 

With his elbows on the table, he takes a bite from his burger and has to suppress a moan. Most of your conversation with Jay goes over his head and he doesn’t realise how much time has gone by until you’re standing at the door pulling on your shoes. Given the way Jay’s lying on the couch, Heeseung assumes he’s on walking-you-home duty and grabs a jacket before stuffing his feet into Jay’s slides. 

The conversation is light as you walk together, Heeseung making sure he’s on the edge of the pavement the whole time and letting you talk about your friends. The walk has become so natural now that he only realises you’re approaching home when you take out your key to open the door to your building. 

“Do you want to meet before class tomorrow? To go over the slides we missed today?” you ask, with something behind your eyes that Heeseung sleepily interprets as hope. 

He nods, smiling at you and waiting for you to lock the door before he leaves. 

Jay’s awake when Heeseung gets back home; he can’t say he’s surprised. Heeseung only nods at Jay, who sits on the couch, but he knows his flatmate well enough to know there’s a conversation coming because the TV is off and his laptop is shut. Heeseung makes it all the way to his door before Jay says anything. “You’re in way over your head.” 

Heeseung sighs, not in the mood. “Okay. Night,” he says, opening the door. 

By the time November arrives and Jake’s birthday approaches, everything is back to normal again. Turning nineteen, Jake celebrates with a modest pub crawl that spirals into a three-day bender, leaving him bedridden for nearly a week due to dehydration and fear of a test he’d forgotten to study for. 

In standard Jake fashion, he manages to bounce back and sits across from Jay at his favourite restaurant only six days after his actual birthday. Considering the state he was in, it’s a wonder he can stomach the smell of alcohol, let alone down four cocktails without a pause. Jay and Sunghoon exchange sighs, each supporting one of Jake’s sleeping arms on their shoulders to carry him home. 

“Cover the bill and let me know the amount. I’ll transfer you in the morning,” Jay mumbles before they leave. 

You shake your head when Heeseung asks if you want to go home as well. “Unless you want to,” you say, all of your words blending together. “If you want to go home, we can. I don’t want you sitting here bored or anything.” 

Heeseung smiles. “I’m not bored, we can stay as long as you like.” You seem to take this to heart, nodding and flagging down a waiter to order more drinks. “Let’s maybe slow down a little though,” he suggests. 

He pours you a glass of water and makes you drink the whole thing, withholding your alcohol until you’ve finished the cold tteokbokki in front of you. Gradually, you become more coherent, wiping your face with your hands and sitting up a little straighter. You thank him when he pours soju for you and take tiny sips from the glass here and there, telling Heeseung about some of the friends you made while you were away. There’s Yizhuo—sweet, funny, and down-to-earth. And Minjeong—a quiet girl who needed a while to warm up to new people. You tell him about meeting her for the first time, how unsure she seemed when Yizhuo introduced you two, but by the end of the night, she was falling asleep next to you in bed with her arms and legs tangled around you. 

“Do you miss them?” It’s a stupid question, anyone could tell from the fond smile on your face that you do. 

A beat passes while you think about it before shrugging. “Not as much as I missed being here.” If he wasn’t watching you, or looking you straight in the eye, he probably would’ve missed the longing in your gaze. 

He’s never known you to be subtle after a drink, and Heeseung knows he needs to nip this conversation in the bud before either of you says something you can’t take back. “How are you getting on with your research task?” he asks, while at the same time you say, “I’m so happy to be back.” 

A short laugh slips out of you, a hand falling to the table before wrapping around your glass. You bring it up to your face but don’t drink, only looking down into it as if it’ll tell you what to say. “Are you happy I’m back?” 

“Sure,” Heeseung says noncommittally. 

You sigh, sinking into your seat a little. “I loved you. I still love you,” you mumble. “Even after all that.” 

He’s not sure what to make of this, of anything you’re saying. It’s not like you had a messy breakup or anything. At least, he wouldn’t describe his long-term girlfriend breaking up with him and asking if they could be friends after as messy. Even in heartbreak, Heeseung was a reasonable person, and any reasonable person would’ve said no. Like he did. 

“I still.. You’re still the one for me.” 

His stomach lurches violently. “Don’t say that.” He gets out of his seat quicker than he means to and leaves you at the table, tapping his foot as he waits in line by the bar to pay the bill, praying he’s right about the two of you sitting at table ten when the cashier asks. With a folded receipt in his pocket and too much to think about, he returns to the table, only putting on his coat and mumbling, “Let’s go.” 

For some reason, you don’t seem to mirror his urgency, only finishing off the drink you had left in one go and sitting for a bit longer. He takes your jacket from the back of your chair and holds it open for you, helping you into it when you finally stand up. “Thanks,” you giggle.

Heeseung says nothing. 

The silence and fresh air outside are sobering as he watches an Uber driver through the app, very slowly moving from two minutes away to one before arriving. Maybe if you hadn’t said what you said at the table, he might have warmed to the idea of a forty-minute walk alone with you, but you did say those things and even the thought of this fifteen-minute car ride is unbearable when John (4.9 stars) pulls up on the curb outside. You thank Heeseung quietly when he opens the door for you, and against his better judgement, he walks over to the other side of the car and sits in the middle seat like he used to. 

Slow R&B murmurs through the speakers as the driver pulls off while Heeseung hums along. His thigh is pressed against yours but he does his best not to think about it, only chewing his lip when you rest your head on his shoulder. He lets his head rest on top of yours before regretting it.

He doesn’t move. 

It feels a little bit like the driver is playing Heeseung’s playlist, as every song he knows and loves seems to come on one after the other, steeping him in an odd comfort in the backseat of this car.

Your hand falls onto his knee so clumsily he’s sure it’s a mistake, so sure you’ll move it back into your lap that he’s genuinely surprised when you don’t. Unsure what to do, he chooses not to acknowledge it, acting like you sitting so close to him, like the feeling that no time has passed, doesn’t make his heart clench. Slowly but surely, your hand inches up his thigh—a motion Heeseung stops as soon as he realises, his hand falling heavily over yours and pushing it back to his knee. He thinks about keeping it there, but when he feels his thumb stroking your skin, he moves his hand immediately. You’ve obviously gotten the wrong idea. For a moment, he wonders if you’ve actually gotten the right idea. You have. But it can’t happen like this. After a few minutes, you move your hand again, and like before, Heeseung pushes it back, keeping his hand over yours and reminding himself not to move his thumb.

You’re drunk. This will pass. 

Finally, the driver parks outside your building, and Heeseung’s sure his “thank you so much” holds the world’s sincerity in it as he unbuckles his seatbelt and practically leaps out of the car. He opens your door and has to undo your belt for you, helping you out and thanking the driver again. 

There’s a couple leaving the building when the two of you reach the door, and with your arms wrapped around his, he thanks them when they hold it open.

The lift takes forever to come and Heeseung pushes the up button five times before it arrives. He lets the girl in fleecy pyjamas with a takeout bag in her hand go in first before following, pressing the button reading 7 before relaxing a bit. Under the protection of a stranger, he knows you won’t do anything. The journey to your floor feels like hours as the lift drags its way up the shaft—why does nothing share his urgency? 

You don’t say anything until the elevator door swooshes shut behind you. “I love you, Heeseung. You know I love you.” You’re saying everything he’s been wanting you to say for ages, but the words make his words sting. 

“Do you know where your keys are?” he asks, though you still have a ways to go before you reach your door. 

“My pocket,” you mumble. 

Heeseung finds your keys, unlocks the door and helps you in. As much as he wants to leave, he knows if he does, you won’t take your makeup off or change, so he holds your hair back for you as you brush your teeth and wash your face in the sink quietly. 

In your bedroom, you search through your drawers, pulling out something to wear. He turns his back to you and ends up face-to-face with an old photo of the two of you from school. 

“You can look, Hee.”

Drawn to the picture, he doesn’t reply. The boys are in it too, but it feels like you two are the focus. Everyone’s smiling at the camera except Heeseung, who — with his arm around you — stares at the side of your face with a lopsided smile. Happiness radiates from his being, lighting his eyes and face.

“I want you to look.” The softness and desperation in your voice tug his heart.

“Come on ba—” Heeseung sighs. “Just get dressed, yeah?” 

You don’t say anything but he can hear the rustle of your clothes as you change. 

Jealousy blooms in his chest, looking at himself three years ago. Happy and full of love for you and your friends, for life. Everything was so easy then. His chest tightens and he has to close his eyes.

Heeseung feels you next to him, hears your jewellery falling into the clay holder on your dresser and opens his eyes, looking at you. You’re in a t-shirt he’s sure belongs to Jake and struggling with the clasp on your necklace. He knows you want him to help but he feels like he can’t move.

“I know you don’t want to hear it, but I really do want to be with you,” you say when you finally get the necklace off. “And I know I’m too late, but I didn’t break up with you because I didn’t want to be with you.” 

You’re so close the peppermint on your breath hits him like a wave. A distinct smell of citrus and summer, of Jake, comes from your body, mixed up with the scent of you in a way that makes him uneasy. 

He gets a headache trying to make sense of your words, if it wasn’t that you didn’t want to be with him, then what was it? Even back then, you didn’t elaborate, you just repeated his name and the words: it’s not your fault, over and over until they sounded made up. Heeseung can’t entertain this conversation, not now. Not when you’re drunk and looking up at him with longing in your eyes. “I think we need to get you to bed,” Heeseung mumbles, taking a step back. “I’ll get you some water.”

“But I’m here now and we can be together again.”

“You moving was never the problem. You know that wasn’t the problem.” A tear slips down your cheek and he softens immediately. “I wanted to go with you, I was going to go with you.” 

You wipe your eyes with the back of your hand, frowning. “This university was your dream. How could I let you give up your scholarship for me?”

“You were my dream,” he admits. “And it wasn’t your decision to make.” 

“You would have made the wrong one.” 

Heeseung scoffs. “Do you think breaking up was the right one?” 

Your silence is brutally telling. You squeeze your eyes shut as if trying to magic yourself out of the conversation, but it only makes more tears fall. A realisation hits him like a truck: you’re thinking about it. A painful lump forms in his throat. How could you have anything to think about? How was breaking up with him, not the single worst decision you’ve ever made? He can’t believe you could have let go so easily if you loved him. Long distance wouldn’t have been easy, but surely if you loved him, you would have made it work. You would have tried. Heeseung wishes he hadn’t asked at all.

“I do,” you say finally, opening your eyes to look at him.

His heart is heavy in his chest. “Okay.”

“Heeseung.”

“What?” 

A stomach-churning sob falls out of you. “I don’t know.” 

Another silence weighs the room down and Heeseung knows what he needs to do. He sighs. “Let’s just.. I should go.” 

You don’t put up a fight, you don’t say anything, only letting your shoulders droop before you sigh and lead Heeseung to the front door. He says goodbye as he puts his shoes on and all you do is watch as he leaves your apartment. He waits for you to close the door and lock it before walking away.

Heeseung walks all the way home and only cries when he closes his door, sliding down the back of it like something from a movie. With tears in his eyes, and his knees to his chest, he pulls out his phone to text you. I hope your hangover isn’t too bad, he types. Let’s only talk when we need to.

The two of you manage to hold this up, with you finding others to sit with during classes, and no one seeming to question Heeseung’s skipping plans or new close friendship with Mark’s group who he spends time with between classes instead. But as always, things have a funny way of going different to how Heeseung expected them to. 

After three weeks of near radio silence, Jay barges into his room with his face scrunched up. “What are you doing?” 

“Right now?” Heeseung asks, confused. Standing by the bed with the corner of his duvet in his hand, in nothing but his underwear, he thinks his plans look a little obvious. “I’m about to jerk off.”

Jay rolls his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest. “You know what I mean.” 

“Evidently, I do not.” 

“Why don’t you hang out with us anymore?” he asks, squinting at Heeseung. 

“We’re hanging out right now.”

“Forgive me if I don’t count an impromptu circle jerk as hanging out.”

“I don’t.. want to do that.”

Jay clutches his chest. “I’m crushed.” 

Heeseung studies his expression. Serious, an inch of concern pooling in his eyes. “We dated for six years, she dumped me, I turned into a shell of myself, but she moved back home and we’re all friends again, so I think things are looking up for me.”

A deep sigh leaves Jay as he sits on the bed. “What happened at the bar with YN three weeks ago when we all left?” 

“Nothing out of the ordinary.”

“What exactly counts as ordinary for you two?”

Heeseung’s still trying to figure that out. He shrugs. “Making the right decisions.” 

“So you’re okay?”

“Never better.’

“You don’t have to lie to me, you know?” There’s a sincere look on Jay’s face as he leans back on his hands.

“Which is why I’m being honest.” 

It doesn’t seem like Jay’s going to let this go, but to Heeseung’s surprise, he smiles. “Perfect,” he says, standing up from the bed and walking over to the mirror where he checks himself out. “Because she and the guys are going to be here in ten. Put some clothes on.”

He does just that, pulling some shorts over his hips and a shirt over his head before pulling the two bean bag chairs stacked next to the couch to sit in front of the TV, claiming one of them with his body by sinking into it. The cosy material is soft against his thighs and he wonders why they don’t use them more. 

Ten minutes go by like seconds when Jay gets up to answer the door, laughing at something one of you says before leading you all into the living room. He’s watching some show Jay left on, greeting you and the boys with a wave before turning back to the TV. Behind him, the four of you laugh and talk on the couch but Heeesung’s too wrapped up in an argument on screen to join in. His attention only falters when he reaches for the open six-pack on the coffee table. It’s barely out of his reach, so he turns around to take a beer, trying to ignore the way his heart sinks in his chest seeing you and Jay cuddled up together. It’s friendly, he knows that. Jay’s with Yunjin and you’re.. He’s still not sure, but it hurts nonetheless. You’re bickering over a bowl of popcorn and he only laughs when you throw a handful at him. 

The red speaker Sunghoon’s holding chimes three times when he turns it on, a Frank Ocean thudding out of it that drowns out the show he’s watching, leaving him to follow along with the subtitles instead. But he can’t focus. 

Heeseung tries to settle his heartache, comforting himself with the thought of the two of you in another reality. One where it’s him instead of Jay. Or one where you come over and sit with him, curling up in his lap, pouting because Jay’s being mean. He pictures himself stroking your hair and kissing away your pout, holding you into his chest when Jake and Sunghoon start teasing you. In this reality, however, he watches you peel Jay’s shirt from his chest and dump a handful of popcorn in the gap, cackling to yourself at the clear frustration he doesn’t verbalise. Heeseung sighs, looking back at the TV and taking a sad sip of his sad beer. 

After a while, you fall into the beanbag next to him, sprawling out over the whole thing and looking at him. “Hey, Heeseung.” 

“Hello.” 

“I’m sorry about that night.” Your voice is quiet, clearly apologetic if the way you don’t meet his eyes is anything to go by.

“Okay.” Heeseung nods and a beat passes. “I meant what I said, what I texted you.” It hurts to say but it’s for the best. He stands up out of the beanbag, making a show of stretching his arms and legs before sinking into the couch next to Jake. Over Jake’s slouched form, Jay shoots him a look, arching a brow. Heeseung only stages a chuckle, shrugging before looking at the TV again. He can’t make sense of anything on the screen. 

Sunghoon emerges from Jay’s room with a grin on his face, asking when you’re going to eat. In standard fashion, the four of you stand around Jay in the kitchen, bothering him by telling him what to do like he’s a child as he puts frozen pizza and some garlic bread in the oven. 

“The middle one’s the timer,” Jake says, pointing at the knobs above the oven door. “It’s there so you can set how long the food needs to cook for, and after you set it, it’ll go off so you know it’s ready.”

“But it’s all up to you and your discretion. You can open the door whenever you want to check on everything,” you coo, patting his shoulder.

If Jay’s actually annoyed, nothing about his smile gives it away as he nods with a clenched fist, closing the door and sitting next to Heeseung on the countertop. Heeseung’s almost too busy focusing on the way his beer heats his stomach to notice the way you watch him with a small frown from barely an arm’s length away. Sunghoon picks up on your declining mood and thrusts an open bottle into your hand. “We like to drink with—” He’s cut off by Jay taking the bottle and setting it behind you on the counter, mumbling cut it out, dude, and tugging you out of the kitchen by the arm when he notices the tears in your eyes. 

He hears Jay’s door close and nobody says anything until the timer goes off and Jay comes back alone, filling a plate with food and going back to his room. 

“Thanks for dinner,” Jake says to the back of Jay’s head, offbeat and half smiling as he washes his hands in the sink. 

Sitting at the table, he watches Jake and Sunghoon eat while pretending nothing’s wrong. 

At the end of the night, when everyone’s gone home, Heeseung gets into bed, barely managing to pull the duvet up when there’s a knock at his door. “Yeah?” he calls out. Jay appears with his arms crossed over his chest. “I don’t want to talk about it,” he says quickly. 

Jay regards him with a frown. “I didn’t even say anything.” 

“You were going to.” 

“Yeah.” He nods, and Heeseung prepares himself for a lecture. “I was going to say, I’m going home next week, for Christmas, so I was wondering if you wanted to go with me.” 

The holidays go by in a soju and tteokguk-filled blur, with Heeseung choosing to stay at home until the day of his first class of the second semester so he doesn’t have to be around you. He tells himself it’s for the good of your friend group, as he watches you all make plans in the group chat through notification bubbles, so he doesn’t leave a read receipt. 

The commute is more jarring than he realised. What had been a twenty-minute drive turns into an hour-long journey, including a thirty-minute walk to the train station ‘near’ house, fifteen minutes on the train into the city centre, and another fifteen minutes on foot to campus. He’s drenched in sweat despite the below-zero temperature and has to make a stop to the bathroom to sort himself out.

He arrives early at least, finding the room where his Ethnography: Theory and Practice 2 class is set to start in fifteen minutes. The only indicator that he’s in the right place is the lecturer’s name and contact information written in the top corner of a whiteboard, and Heeseung picks the seat furthest from the door. It’s an elective class and, judging by the nine empty chairs next to him, not a very popular one. He’s relieved at least that he’ll be able to start off the semester without running into anyone he knows, least of all you. As seats start filling up and the lecturer arrives, he’s feeling unusually lucky. 

So, of course, you show up, running a hand through your hair as you walk through the open door, apologising for being late even though there are still two minutes until the class is scheduled to begin. Of course, the only empty seat is the one next to him, which you sit in without looking at him, making an effort to angle your body away from him. Of course, the lecturer assigns a presentation for two weeks time, pairing the class with the person they’re sitting beside. Neither you nor Heeseung say a word to each other, but you raise your hand when prompted to pick a topic to cover. He can’t help his irritation at you for making the decision without asking him, but you look so nice in your hoodie with your hair tied up that his annoyance settles before it has a chance to bloom. 

“YN YLN and Heeseung Lee, we’ll do music and cultural expression,” you say, picking the topic he wanted to do anyway. 

When class is over, you’re quick to get out of your seat, pulling on your jacket and stuffing your laptop back into your bag before leaving so quickly that Heeseung has to leave his stuff behind to go after you. You don’t stop walking when he calls out your name, and too scared to make a scene, he overtakes you, leaving you with no option but to stop in front of him. 

“We should go to the library, get the research and shit out of the way ASAP,” he suggests.

You nod, crossing your arms over your chest. 

“Yeah, okay, I’m going to get my stuff.”

You follow him back to class, watching from the door as he puts his things in his bag before putting on his jacket. You don’t say anything on the walk to the library, when you get there, or when you browse the Cultural Studies section. Heeseung glances at you and you’re chewing on your lip, crouching a bit to read the spines of the books on the lower shelves. “Are you alright?” he asks with genuine concern. 

You look up at him, nodding. 

“Are you sure? Because you haven’t said anything in an hour.”

This makes you straighten up, your brows furrowing in an expression he can’t figure out. “Sorry, Heeseung,” you say, your voice weak. “I’m just trying to figure out if you think I need to talk right now.” 

“Obviously, a paired project is a situation where we need to talk.” 

You sigh, muttering oh, my God, before you look at him. “You know what, I’m going home. Let’s do this tomorrow.” 

“We have class in twenty minutes.” 

“Yeah, I’ll read the slides when I get in.”

Unsure what to say, he watches you walk away, deciding that he should just go home too. 

At the flat he hasn’t seen in five weeks, Heeseung feels slightly out of place, going straight to his room and into bed, not even getting up when he hears Jay coming home. Jay opens the door without knocking, his mouth falling into an excited ‘o’ shape. “Hey, stranger,” he says. “I thought you weren’t coming back, so I started advertising your room on Gumtree.” 

“Any offers?”

“No one as good as you.” Heeseung doesn’t have to look at Jay to know he’s smiling. “Move over,” he mumbles, lifting the duvet. 

Lazily, he rolls over in bed, making room for Jay who makes himself comfortable under the covers. 

“What are you doing, Heeseung?” 

“Trying to sleep.” 

“Talk to me, help me understand.” Jay sighs and Heeseung’s lips curl into a frown. “You’re my best friend,” Jay says quietly, with a tenderness that strikes him. 

“You’re my best friend,” Heeseung repeats like an affirmation. 

“So why won’t you talk to me?”

There’s a subtle hurt in Jay’s voice that upsets Heeseung, who shifts around to lie on his back. “I don’t think there’s anything I can tell you that YN hasn’t already.” 

“She only told me that she fucked up.”

Hearing it from someone else’s mouth makes it sound drastic, especially considering he’s the one who left. Again. But he’s too bitter to say that out loud so he bites his tongue. “Seems to be the theme in our relationship.” The words taste rotten when he says them.

“Just because you’re my best friend doesn’t mean you get to be a dick,” Jay says. “What happened?” 

It takes some time but Heeseung explains everything, letting Jay ask questions and make comments until the end when he looks away, pressing his eyes shut and saying, “Oh.” 

“Oh?”

“I don’t think I get it. Boy loves girl. Girl loves boy. Why can’t you just be together already?”

Everything sounds painfully simple when it’s put like that. But there’s too much between you both for it to go that way. It’s not like he didn’t want to be with you when you confessed, it’s that he didn’t know how he could without knowing why you left him in the first place. Without knowing what he did that was so terrible you couldn’t stand to be in a relationship with him, never mind the same area code. 

A beat passes before Heeseung speaks. “There was something wrong, and instead of trying to fix it, she just.. gave up. I would’ve done anything she asked me to. I could’ve changed, could’ve fixed things, but she didn’t even tell me.” 

“Maybe she didn’t feel like she could. I don’t think she wanted to hurt you, Heeseung.” 

“But she did.” 

“Yeah,” Jay admits, sympathy lacing the word. 

“How can I be with her knowing there’s some awful part of me she hates?” 

“It’s not like that, not really.” 

“What’s it like then?”

“I’m not sure it’s my place to say.” 

Heeseung laughs, shaking his head. “Do you keep my secrets as dutifully as you keep hers?” 

“Are you kidding? She doesn’t even know you have secrets.” Jay sounds exhausted as he speaks, and it’s the last sound to come from him until a few minutes pass and Heeseung hears him snoring. 

You didn’t reply when Heeseung texted you asking to meet in the library before class, but you show up anyway, pulling out the seat across from him and dumping your bag on the table. “I don’t know if you saw the email, but the partner work is just for the presentation.” 

“Cool.” he nods, relieved. 

“I think after that, I’ll start hanging out with Yunjin instead, so you’re not uncomfortable.” 

Heeseung frowns, shaking his head. “I’m not uncomfortable around you,” he says. “I just don’t.. get you. You dump me and move as far away as you can. Now you’re back and what? You love me again?” 

You furrow your brows, inspecting him for a moment before you speak. “I don’t love you again, Heeseung. I’ve loved you this whole time.” 

“So why didn’t you choose me? I just wanted you to choose me.” He’s too anxious to know the truth to worry about how desperate he must sound. Until he notices that the guys sitting at the other end of the tables are watching him, their brows arched sharply in a mixture of shock and curiosity. Heeseung runs a hand over his face, hoping the motion might wipe away the flush burning his cheeks.

“You wanted me to choose you over my future?” 

“I could’ve been your future, part of it. I’d never ask you to choose me over university, you know I wouldn’t. I’m saying you could’ve had both.” 

“It wasn’t as easy as that.” 

“Why not?” 

“Heeseung,” you say like it’s an answer. 

“Just tell me why you didn’t want me. That’s all I want to know.” 

The following silence makes him consider packing up abruptly and faking an emergency. He’s sure he could probably fake his death if he slumps in his chair slowly enough. 

You sigh heavily, interrupting his train of thought—now, he’s wondering if he even wants to know. “Because you would’ve put me first,” you say, avoiding his gaze. “If I stayed here or moved away, I would’ve been your top priority and I couldn’t let you throw away everything you worked for, for me.” 

“I loved you, of course, you were my top priority.” He can’t believe he even has to say it, can’t believe you might have thought you weren’t the single most important thing in his life. 

“Heeseung, you were sacrificing your life for me. You missed your cousin’s engagement party to help me study for a history test, you deferred your scholarship entry by a year just so we could go to college at the same time. How could I keep letting you miss out on your life?” 

“Deferring my entry wasn’t just for you,” he lies. “And it’s not like I missed the wedding.” 

“But I think you would’ve if I stubbed my toe.”

“Would that be such a bad thing?” 

You sigh again, shaking your head. “Do you hear yourself? You can’t keep living like that, you can’t just throw everything away. You’re such a hard worker, Heeseung, and I’d hate to see you waste that over some girl.” 

“But you’re you. You weren’t just ‘some girl’ you were my girl.” He doesn’t mean to say it but it’s true. “We were in high school and I was studying constantly; it didn’t matter back then. And you were so far away, it’s not like I could feasibly drop everything and go to you every time something happened.” 

“Heeseung.” 

“You had a choice.” 

“Heeseung.” 

The way you’re saying his name reminds him of your breakup—the pink walls of your childhood bedroom and the pictures of the two of you stuck up all over them, in frames on your desk, and stickers on your light switch. How they seemed to close in around him as he put all of his energy into staying on two feet, instead of falling to the floor and begging you on hands and knees to stay with him. 

“Why didn’t you just tell me? I’ve spent the last year and a half wondering what I did wrong, I don’t understand why you didn’t just tell me.” We could’ve tried, he wants to say. I could have changed and we could’ve tried. 

“I didn’t want you to lose that. I felt really lucky that you loved me like that, and I didn’t want to rob someone else of it, you know. I thought maybe you’d find a balance with someone someday, but I didn’t think that person would be me.” 

Heeseung has to put in an effort to stop his jaw from dropping. How could there ever be someone else? How could you ever think he could have someone else? There’s so much he wants to say, to ask, but he can tell by the way you press your lips together that you’re done with the conversation. 

“It’s not too late.” 

You tilt your head at him. “What?” 

“In your room that night, you said you were too late,” he explains. “I love you.”

“Still?” 

His heart shifts uncomfortably in his chest at the tone of your voice and the way your eyebrows shoot up. “Always,” he says. 

A smile starts to curve your lips, but it slips before it has a chance to bloom, stifled happiness that you cover with your hands, hiding your face completely. “I don’t think we should talk about this here.” Your palms muffle the words but not their impact; you’re right and he knows it. 

It’s been a year—the longest of his life, and the hard part is already over. He knows now and he’ll do anything he can to fix it. “Right.” Heeseung nods but you’re not looking at him. He’s going to fix it. For now, though, he says, “What’s our research topic again?” Despite having had Music and Cultural Expression typed into the search bar since before you arrived. 

With Heeseung’s work ethic and your commitment to being the best, the presentation goes quite smoothly. You make no mistakes, and Heeseung, distracted by how pretty you look in professional attire, manages to stumble through the script he’d rehearsed. The two of you even win the first place prize — satisfaction that you got a perfect score — and celebrate with coffee afterwards. 

Between the four walls of the campus café, you and Heeseung sip lattes that taste like temperature — still too hot to have a real flavour — and laugh with each other about something Jay said when you all hung out last night. Neither of you mentions your conversation from two weeks ago, deciding instead to fall into the patterns of your first term together: napping in his bed after class and coming up with excuses for alone time. He makes an effort to follow through with his commitments, even when you ask him to hang out, to show you that he’s different now. If you’ve noticed, you haven’t said anything about it, but Heeseung tells himself it’s a good thing while missing shots on the court with Mark, too hung up on you to focus on anything else. The only thing left is to figure out a way to be yours again and do everything he can to make sure he doesn’t lose you. 

Over your shoulder, through the window, the sun slips below the horizon, casting long shadows around the café. He takes a deep breath when he looks at you, smiling down at your phone as you take a picture of your half-drunk latte and the milky swirls still peeking through your coffee. A tangible determination settles in his chest as evening’s first stars appear in the sky, he knows one thing for sure: he has to grab the chance to be yours again with both hands, and once it’s his, he won’t let go this time. 

The café may be clearing out, but his heart is full of hope and for the time being, sitting with you as a friend is.. fine. 

You’d often imagined what it would be like if you hadn’t broken up with Lee Heeseung. 

Most of your first year was spent daydreaming about him in all of your usual hangouts. Sometimes, at drinks with your friends, you envisioned him showing up, a smile on his face as he apologised for being late. He’d slide into the booth next to you, wrap his arm around your shoulders and kiss your cheek. Other times you imagined him showing up to surprise you, sitting on a bench in the quad and grinning when he saw you leaving. He’d run up to you with open arms and a bouquet in his hand, wrapping you in a hug and whispering that he missed you too much to wait another day to see you. You would even fall asleep thinking about FaceTime calls that stayed on overnight or drunken texts after the club, misspelt I love yous and can’t wait to see yous filling your text thread. 

You didn’t tell your new friends much about him, briefly mentioning a partner you’d watched some film with or an artist he liked if they came up, and most nights were spent begging Jay to send you Heeseung’s social media posts and tell you every detail of the day they had without you. Based on accounts from Jay, Jake, and Sunghoon, it seemed like he was getting on well, a fact that — while hurtful — pushed you to try and do the same. After a month of avoiding your flatmates, you finally managed to connect with them, going to various social events around campus and rolling your eyes any time a drunk guy complimented you. 

This is why it took you by surprise to see him at Mark Lee’s party in the summer—sitting alone in the garden, in sweatpants and a flannel, looking at his phone with a deep frown etched over his lips. When you think about it, it feels like so long has passed since then and it’s hard to believe it wasn’t even a year ago. 

Being back in Heeseung’s life has been more challenging than you thought it would be when you filled out your transfer application. Especially in the weeks since you finished your presentation together, since you suggested the library might not have been the right place for the conversation you were having and never followed up on. 

Now doesn’t seem like the right time either—you’re sitting on the floor in Jake and Sunghoon’s living room with your back against the couch, sharing a blanket with Heeseung. Jay left about an hour ago to go to Yunjin’s, leaving the four of you to your own devices. You know you can’t bring it up with Jake and Sunghoon around, but you’ve had plenty of opportunities to over the last month. 

When you finished your celebratory lattes, Heeseung walked you home. The sky was a perfect inky black, and it was cold enough to see your breath, just the way he liked, so cold he offered you his jacket to wear. He didn’t say anything about it, only shrugging it off and setting it gently over your shoulders, shocking you so much that you stopped walking. The scent of his cologne, dark and woody, was overwhelming as you slid your arms into the sleeves, zipping it up and after three paces without you, Heeseung turned his head with wide eyes. You could have said it then, you wanted to say it then, but you bit your tongue and thanked him instead. He smiled, gulping when you closed the gap, you should have kissed him, he was close enough, his lips just a tip-toe and tilted head away, but you hugged him instead. 

After that, the two of you had all the time in the world together. Between your shared classes and going for meals alone. All the time you’d spend in his living room together, cosy on the couch when Jay would go to sleep. So many moments to talk, to get back together, but the words would die in your throat every time you thought them. It all seemed too cheesy or not cheesy enough, too dramatic or too casual, you couldn’t strike a balance and had no idea how to even find one. 

Last night was probably the most jarring occasion. Yunjin and Chaewon had been trying to convince you to go the club all week but you just weren’t in the mood. They seemed happy enough when you suggested hosting pres—but now you think they’d been hoping you’d be so drunk you’d just agree to go out. Yunjin brought half a litre of vodka and Chaewon brought a soup flask with enough murky cocktail in it to feed a small family. Together, the three of you drank and gossiped around the small table in your living room, with Chaewon’s phone in a glass to amplify her playlist. After taking a whiff of whatever she brought, you and Yunjin decided — for everyone’s wellbeing — to hide her flask and take shots of vodka, finishing off the cider you had left in the fridge. 

“Please come out,” Yunjin begged. “I’ll feel bad leaving you here, all pretty and drunk by yourself.” 

“I’ll feel bad too!” Chaewon added, clasping her hands. “Not bad enough to stay with you, but I’ll probably have less fun.” 

You shook your head. “I don’t even have an outfit.” The words were like music to their ears and you regretted them as soon as you said them. Both girls grabbed you by the hand, tugging you to your room and flinging open your wardrobe. Yunjin looked for a top and Chaewon for a skirt, though both of them gasped when they saw the dress you wore for Heeseung’s birthday. Chaewon pulled it from the rack, holding it out in front of her. 

“We won’t pay for anything if you wear this,” she squealed before she and Yunjin started chanting: Free booze! Free booze! 

You sighed, thinking of Heeseung and shook your head again. That dress, though beautiful, hadn’t been enough for him to lose all composure and skip the party in favour of fucking you into the mattress, and you didn’t love the idea of guys that weren’t him ogling you all night. “Anything but that dress.” 

Yunjin and Chaewon seemed sad, but you were able to distract them by bringing out the disaster cocktail the oldest girl brewed earlier, pouring each of them half a glass and ordering an Uber to come and take them away. You promised them you’d go out next time, locking your pinkies with theirs and closing the door behind them. 

Alone in your room, with nothing but thoughts of Heeseung to keep you company, you called him. He answered right away. You can’t remember exactly what you said but you remember the soft sigh he let out when you said it. You could practically see him tilting his head, weighing his options. 

“I’m trying to get a paper finished, it’s due Monday,” he said finally. 

“But it’s Thursday.” 

“Yeah, and I want to have my weekend free. If you’re still up when I’m done, I’ll come over, okay?” 

You nodded. “Okay.” 

Heeseung hung up after that and you got out of bed to clean up, hoping the time would fly. It didn’t, but your flat was clean again so you pretended not to mind. 

He called you after midnight. “Do you still want me to come over?” he asked, breathless. 

“Please.” There was a knock on your door after you spoke and you mumbled hold on before going to check it. Warped by the peephole, you saw Heeseung standing there, holding his phone to his ear and playing with the zipper on his jacket. He hugged you when you opened the door, asking if you were okay. “Perfect,” you said, looking into his eyes. 

His pretty face scrunched up and he pinched his nostrils shut with his fingers, turning his head. “Well, you smell like a distillery.”

Heeseung stood in the doorway of the bathroom while you brushed your teeth, grinning every time his eyes met yours in the mirror. Tell him now, you thought. You have to tell him now. Those thoughts nagged you as you gargled mouthwash, plagued you when you hugged him again and tortured you when he carried you to bed. 

He stiffened when kissed his jaw. “You can’t do that,” he mumbled, setting you down under the duvet. “Not now.” 

Then when? you wanted to say. “I’m sorry,” you said.

Heeseung sighed, shaking his head. “No, it’s just.. It’s okay.” 

Neither of you spoke after that, you made room for him on the bed and he lay down next to you, let you rest your head on his chest and played with your hair until you fell asleep. He was gone when you woke up in the morning but he left a glass of water and some paracetamol on your end table, along with a note. 

I had to go to class and you wouldn’t wake up :(  We’ll talk about everything soon, we have to. See you at Jake and Sunghoon’s later? 

— Your Hee. 

If you hadn’t been drunk he might have been okay with the kiss, he might have looked down at you and kissed you properly. You might have talked last night, fixed things—you’ve never regretted drinking so much in your life. 

Things are better tonight at least. You’ve been nursing the same can of cider since you arrived a few hours ago and Heeseung’s only had two sips of his beer, so hopefully, if you get some alone time, the two of you can finally talk. You’re still not sure what you should say, if you should apologise for waiting so long, for leaving in the first place. It seemed like a good idea at the time, applying elsewhere. You didn’t even think you’d get in but you knew you’d never forgive yourself if you didn’t at least take the chance. It seemed like a sign when the acceptance letter reached your inbox before the term had finished, an unconditional offer to a high-ranking university, you couldn’t pass it up. And knowing Heeseung as well as you did, you knew he’d do anything to be by your side when you needed him, you knew he’d drop everything to move with you if you let him. You’d owe him forever. It wouldn’t be fair on either of you. 

You called Jay in tears after a month away, telling him you made a mistake, that you needed to come back and had already filled out a transfer application. He convinced you to at least stay until the end of term, to actually make friends with the girls you were living with and see how you felt. A week later, he, Jake and Sunghoon showed up on your doorstep with chocolate and booze, hoping your room was big enough for all of them to stay for the weekend, it wasn’t, not really, but for three nights, the four of you slept head to toe in your bed after eating your body weights in pizza and ice cream. There was no talk of Heeseung, even though you begged them, and by the time they left, you felt much better. At the end of your first year, you quietly submitted your transfer application and shared a tearful goodbye with Yizhuo and Minjeong before finally flying back home. The boys seemed happy to have you back, even if it meant sneaking around to hang out with you—A nudge pulls you out of your thoughts, Heeseung.

“Are you okay?” he asks. 

When you look at him, it feels like the wind has been knocked out of you. His eyes are brimmed with concern, wide and beautiful, a deep brown you’ll never get sick of. His lips are curved into a soft pout, a crease running along his brow that you want to smooth out. 

Heeseung relaxes a little when you nod, but he seems unconvinced. “You sure?” 

You reach up to poke his cheek, grinning when he turns his head, trying to fight a smile. “I’m good,” you say, pressing a dimple into his cheek anyway. 

He holds your finger in his hands, unclenching your fist and locking his fingers with yours. A wide grin stretches over your lips as you plead with your cheeks to stop burning. Jake’s hand interrupts the moment, falling from the couch, limp and curled into a fist that smacks the back of your head. He’s fast asleep, not stirring at all even when Heeseung laughs. 

Unfortunately, you lose rock, paper, scissors and have to wake Jake up. He shifts a little on the couch when you shake him, whining at you to stop and scrunching up his face at you. Heeseung and Sunghoon eventually sigh, grabbing him by the arms and legs to carry him to bed. 

Both boys return, laughing about something and Heeseung sits down next to you again while Sunghoon leans in the doorway, yawning. “You two can have my room,” he says, cutting his eyes at you. “No funny business though, I just changed my sheets.” 

You chuckle nervously and Heeseung makes a show of hiding his face in the crook of your neck, much to Sunghoon’s visible dismay. He clutches the doorframe so hard you see his knuckles paling and uses his free hand to point a stern finger in your direction. “I mean it,” is the last thing he says before leaving. 

“Sorry,” Heeseung mumbles when the door closes. “It’s just so funny teasing him.” He’s grinning when he lifts his head and runs a shaking hand through his hair. “Anyway, you still haven’t told me about your group project.”

A sigh curls out of you, dramatic and loud as you let your head fall back against the couch at the thought of it. You brought it up in passing on Monday after class and spent the rest of the week pretending it didn’t exist. 

“Damn,” he mutters. “That bad?” 

You don’t have many friends in your Archaeology class, but you always look forward to it — because you’re covering Ancient Egypt — and enjoy it. But this morning, you slept in, arriving late, to find your lecturer assigning groups for a project weighing 25% of your final grade. She put the groups together based on where people were sitting, which left you, standing in the doorway fighting for breath, being added to a group of boys you shared a seminar with last term. They never contributed, and rarely showed up, constantly sending messages in the class Whatsapp group to ask if anyone had the tutorial answers. The sinking feeling that your project was doomed before it began plagued you throughout the lecture and all the way to lunch with Yunjin afterwards. Even though it doesn’t have anything to do with the story, you tell him in meticulous detail about your time with her that day. Thankfully, you’re sober so don’t admit that you spent a lot of the meal exchanging increasingly ridiculous ideas to get him back. 

Heeseung is just as beautiful and good at listening as always, nodding his head and uhm-ing and ah-ing at all the right parts. Until his gaze changes for a split second into something so soft and so sweet that it leaves a mark on your heart. “I was pissed about it earlier, but now I’m here, with you, and I want you to be my boyfriend again,” you say, jaw hanging open as soon as the words come out. 

His eyes widen, lips parting in shock. Then his brows furrow, pushing a crease into his forehead. 

“I know what you’re going to say and I’m sorry.” You start running damage control and pray that Jake or Sunghoon will wake up and come back. “I really didn’t mean to say that, especially not now when we haven’t talked about everything. But you looked at me, Heeseung. You really looked at me just now and I can’t pretend I don’t want to be with you. I’m sorry, really, but it’s your fault I said that.” 

Mortified, you cover your face with your hands. “Can you say something now?” you ask, mumbling into the heels of your palms. 

All he says is your name and a pit forms in your stomach. “God, anything but that,” you groan. 

Heeseung chuckles, which you think is a good thing. “Would it be better if I called you baby?” 

“In what context?” 

Holding your breath, you watch as he presses his lips together, humming as he tilts his head. “Term of endearment between a girlfriend and her boyfriend.” 

You lift your head, separating your fingers to see him properly through the space and the pit in your stomach dissolves into something live, butterflies fluttering in a frenzy from the look on his face. The gentle curve of his lips, the warmth in his eyes, and the slight flush on his cheeks all make your head spin. 

“Really?”

Heeseung nods so hard his hair follows the movement. “Yes, baby.” 

“Can we kiss now?” 

“Maybe if you move your hands out of the way.”

“I don’t like maybe.”

“Definitely if you move your hands out of the way,” he corrects. 

You can’t bring yourself to move, worried that the sudden motion might disrupt something, might knock you out of the moment. Heeseung laughs, so softly it sounds like an exhale, as he takes your wrists in his hands, tugging gently. With your face in full view, his eyes flit over your features for a beat before he cups your cheek in his hand, dragging his thumb over the soft skin of your lips. 

You don’t even realise he’s leaning in until his lips touch yours. There’s a rush of something in your chest, an intense warmth surrounding your heart. His lips are softer than ever, gentle as he kisses you like you might break—you think you might. Nothing is better than this, better than having Heeseung’s lips on yours after all this time. You lean into him completely, pressing your body impossibly close to his and twirling your fingers around the hair at the nape of his neck. 

“I love you,” he whispers, barely pulling away. “I love you so much.” 

You can’t bring yourself to reply, emotions too close to the surface, tears too close to spilling. Instead, you smile into the kiss, somehow holding him closer and hoping he’ll understand. He pulls back, just enough to gaze into your eyes with a look of pure affection. He doesn’t press for words, a reassuring smile tugging his lips. 

He understands, Heeseung always understands. 

Sunghoon’s sheets are soft against your skin when you wake up, tickling your nose with the scent of detergent and Heeseung’s shampoo—fresh and light. Your hand finds its way into his hair, fingers curling around the strands as Heeseung watches you with a soft smile, eyes scanning your features, taking you in. He lets his hand rest on your cheek, thumb stroking the skin there and his eyes flick up to meet yours. You feel like a teenager, a giddy smile gracing your lips, giggles tumbling out at the tickly feeling of lovestruck butterflies rumbling in your stomach. Heeseung beams, nuzzling into the touch of your hand as his eyes flutter shut. 

“If we’re going to work out this time—I want us to work out, but we need to talk,” you say after a beat. 

Heeseung’s brows raise like he can’t believe what you’re saying, his lips pushing into a pout. “We are going to work out, of course we’re going to work out.” His voice is still raspy from sleep, a deep hoarseness that’s too sexy for the cute way he’s chewing on his lip, doe-eyed and sweet as his eyes scan your face.

“I know, baby, I want that.” You nod, using your hand to push his hair out of his face. It’s so long now it’s starting to cover his eyes, the soft blond strands curling into his eyelashes. “But you have to say no to me, you know? I want you to have a life of your own, we both should.” 

“No.” 

“No?” You press your eyes shut, sighing. “What do you mean, no?” 

“I’m starting now.” 

“I’m serious, Hee, this is serious.” 

He pouts for a second before nodding. “I’m serious too. I can say no to you, I will say no to you.” 

You can’t help your scepticism, raising your brow at him as you inspect his face. There’s nothing about his expression that suggests he’s not being serious, nothing in those huge eyes seeming insincere. But you know Heeseung, you’ve been with Heeseung, and you know better than anyone, there’s nothing he wouldn’t do if it meant spending time with you, so you have to ask. “So from now on, if I text you when you’re in class or out with friends, and I tell you I want to see you, what are you going to do?” 

Heeseung sighs. “I’m going to text back and say that I’m.. busy.” His lips curl into a frown. “My heart will be super heavy though.” 

“But you’ll do it? You won’t see me until you’re free?” 

“I’ll do it, I won’t leave or anything.” 

“Do you promise?” 

“Yeah, baby, I promise.” When you smile at him, Heeseung leans in to seal his promise with a kiss, his lips meeting yours softly. 

You flinch when the door opens and Heeseung chuckles against your lips, but he doesn’t stop kissing you. Over his head, you see Sunghoon standing in the doorway, hair dripping water on the floor with a towel wrapped around his hips. 

Sunghoon sighs, loud and dramatic, his head falling back. “I specifically said no funny business,” he mutters. “Quit looking at me.” He comes into the room and lifts the duvet over your heads. 

Under the covers, Heeseung pulls away, poking his head out and laughing. “We’re just kissing.”

“Yeah, with your shirt off. Why is your shirt off?”

“She wanted to wear—”

Sunghoon cuts him off with a gasp, pulling the duvet back. “Wait, why are you kissing?”

“I can’t kiss my girlfriend?” 

The word makes your cheeks burn and you hide your face in Heeseung’s chest. His lips find the top of your head, kissing you as he wraps his arms around you. 

Sunghoon groans at the sight. “I haven’t missed this at all,” he says. “Who else knows?”

“Just you so far.”

You can hear Sunghoon grinning when he drops the duvet back over your heads and shuffles around the room, getting ready for skating. Heeseung calls you cute and holds you closer. “I’ve missed you so much, missed this,” he mumbles into your hair. “I love you.”

Dating Heeseung again is better than anything you could have imagined, even if it has only been two weeks. He’s everything you’ve ever wanted and more, and even the simple things he does make you smile so hard your face aches. Like when he picks up snacks for you after class or sends you pictures of sweet things he wrote about you in his old diary. Chaewon and Yunjin comment that you seem happier, that you’re glowing, and you can’t help the giggles that always escape and the flush that burns your cheeks when you mention your boyfriend, Heeseung.

Even under the pressure of taking on a group project by yourself, you find yourself fighting a grin in the library just thinking about him. Your class finished an hour ago and you’re doing research in the computer lab while waiting for him so you can go back home together. With a crease in your brow, you try to make sense of conflicting articles on the origin of the Great Pyramid of Giza, happy when your phone lights up with a text. 

hee: we should go on a date tonight !!! how does the fair sound? 

you: sounds good :D 

hee: ❤️

As if sensing that plans have been made without him, Sunghoon sends a message to the group chat asking who wants to go to the Spring Fair in the city centre tonight. 

you: hee and i are alr going :/

sunghoon: awesome i can meet u at hee’s in a few hours?

You really can’t find the heart to tell Sunghoon it’s a date so you decide not to say anything, only feeling worse when Jay replies. 

jay: sounds good :D 

hee: it’s a date dumbass, you’re not invited.

sunghoon: ok.. i can still go

jake: time?

With your date set and whatever else the boys are planning in the group chat, you manage to finish up your work in time for Heeseung to show up with a grin on his face as you pack up your notebook. Excitement stirs in your stomach when he locks his fingers with yours and you’ve never looked forward to the sticky heat of a night in spring as much as you are right now. 

“How was class?” you ask, squeezing his hand. 

Heeseung grins at you, swinging your hands between your bodies as you weave through tables to leave the library. “Turns out I focus really well when you’re not sitting with me.” 

“Oh, really?”

“Mm.” He nods, biting his lip. 

“I can sit with other people if it’ll help you focus.” 

“No!” he whines, loud enough to draw side eyes from the students around you before the tips of his ears burn red and he pulls you out of the library at lightspeed. 

When you reach his flat, Jay’s sitting on the couch grinning at something on his phone, so distracted he doesn’t even realise you’ve arrived until you sit down next to him. He’s got a lot to say about his mock trial and tells you everything, all while you’re cuddled up to Heeseung, with your head on his shoulder. 

You blink and the sun’s gone down, Jay isn’t around anymore and Heeseung’s arms are around your waist, holding you close. “Hey,” he says when you stir. “The boys left already, you just looked so cute sleeping that I didn’t want to wake you.” 

There’s a wet patch on his sweater where your mouth was that you try to wipe away. It doesn’t budge. And a burning flush attacks your cheeks and neck when Heeseung uses his thumb to wipe some of the drool by your mouth. “So cute.” He chuckles. “Should we get going?” 

You spend the whole journey to the city centre with your hand in Heeseung’s, trying to fight the butterflies in your stomach every time he smiles at you. It’s weird. To have been with him for so long, yet still feel giddy when he looks at you. This is new though, you suppose, to live away from home and see him whenever you want. Absence really does make the heart grow fonder and you can’t help the grin on your face at the thought of spending infinite nights like this, with him. 

The Spring Fair is alive with laughter and squeals of delight that you can hear from around the corner. Winking lights spill onto the pavement in rapid succession, somehow showing the whole spectrum at once. Heeseung is bursting with excitement, running down the street with you in tow, desperately trying to keep up with his stride and regulate your breathing. His eyes are huge when you reach the gates, scanning the area for the churros he’s been talking about for the entire walk and he gasps when he sees the stall, pulling you along with him. You have to weave through the crowd, dipping and dodging tired locals and excited tourists as you call out apologies to everyone Heeseung bumps into. The first night is always packed like this, so full it’s hard to believe the fair runs for six whole weeks. 

You share a heart-shaped churro and pose for the photos he wants to take, your heart swelling with affection as you pretend to be embarrassed when he buys matching character headbands for you both. Two years ago, Heeseung would’ve told you that headbands aren’t a good use of your money and bought them anyway, but today, he spent fifteen minutes trying on and taking photos with each character before finding the perfect pair. You can’t help but grin as he puts the headband on for you, a sense of excitement blooming inside you, so great it’s overwhelming.

Heeseung buys a blue raspberry slushy in an obnoxiously large reusable cup with two straws, and as he clutches his head with each brain freeze, chuckles pour out of you, only increasing when he pouts. 

At every opportunity, the two of you take selfies, and the grin on his face in each one warms your heart. He posts his favourite to his story, showing you all the compliments he’s getting in his DMs, all aimed at you. He seems so proud and excited to be with you, and butterflies go mad in your stomach as he reads some of them out to you, agreeing with and adding to the messages.

“You’re so beautiful, baby. I think I might delete the picture,” he says, frowning as the story replies pour in. 

The look on his face makes you laugh, struggling to talk but trying anyway. “But I love it.” 

Heeseung puts his phone away, wrapping his arm around your shoulders. “I love you,” he says, using his free hand to tip your chin towards him. He grins when you say it back, tracing his thumb along your jaw. An odd stillness hits you, in the midst of vibrant chaos. Flashes of multi-coloured LEDs dance in orange and purple strobes over his face and your breath hitches in your throat. His eyes are pretty and wide, flicking from your eyes to your mouth a few times as a flame starts to burn in your stomach, low and scorching. 

“I love you,” you repeat, tip-toeing to close the gap. 

You kiss him, slow and sweet to savour the sugary taste on his lips as they move against yours. His tongue slips into your mouth, deepening the kiss and the taste of syrupy artificial fruit, leaving you craving more, craving him. A pop goes out in the air and you flinch in Heeseung’s arms. He chuckles against your lips before he pulls away, looking up. Trails of pink and gold paint the sky above, vibrant sparks spreading everywhere as a few more go off. If you weren’t so busy trying to catch your breath, you might appreciate their beauty, but you are and the next pop only startles you too. 

Heeseung looks down at you, his slightly swollen lips curving into a grin. “How are you so cute?” he coos. “And don’t most people want fireworks to go off when they kiss someone?” 

“It’s probably a sensation thing, Heeseung.” You know it’s a sensation thing. The first time he kissed you, it felt like you were floating on air, as if Sunghoon’s basement, cold and dark, was the most romantic place on Earth. You were sweaty and nervous, sitting cross-legged on the floor next to Heeseung while the boys were sleeping. He was the one to lean in and he kissed the tip of your nose by accident.

“Yeah, yeah,” he mutters. “Come here.” His voice is so deep and raspy that it spurs the flame on, burning higher, hotter, until it’s the only thing you can think about. His hand finds your jaw again, pulling you towards him to kiss you. Of course, you can’t resist; he’s Heeseung. 

The kiss is rife with neediness, whether from you or Heeseung you can’t tell, but you’re tugging at his hair and he’s clutching at your t-shirt, both of you struggling to get enough of the other. You nip at his bottom lip with your teeth and a heady sigh falls from his mouth into yours, brewing a storm in your mind, a thick fog obscuring everything but thoughts of him.

At the sound of a forced throat clearing, you break away from Heeseung, seeing an elderly lady with a steaming cup in her hand and a disgruntled look on her face. She extends an arm, gesturing behind you. When you follow the direction of her hand, you see a bench that you’re standing right in front of. Heeseung grabs your hand, mumbling an apology and tugging you as far away as possible. You struggle to stifle a laugh at the redness of his ears against his hair. 

A huge ride swings and spins into the air, catching your attention, though Heeseung seems to be more interested in the way Jake stands by the entrance with a scowl on his face. Jake waves you over when he sees you, grinning and hugging you both like it’s been years since he saw you. 

“Jay and Hoon are..” he trails off, using his arm to vaguely gesture towards the sky. 

“Man,” Heeseung whispers, pointing a reverent finger to the sky, “R.I.P.” 

Countless fireworks shoot up noisily, painting the dark sky, and Heeseung’s arms fall heavily around your shoulders, his body warm against your back. If not for the way Jake’s flinching next to you, covering his ears with his hands and ducking slightly at the bang of each one, it might feel like the two of you are alone in the moment. Alone despite the chatter, the laughter and squeals. Just you and Heeseung. 

And Jake. 

Heeseung is amazing at fair games, especially the ring toss. But a tired-looking man in a business suit wins the Hello Kitty plush you’d been eyeing for the snotty toddler wrapped around his leg, so you settle for the Kuromi plush instead. Heeseung says it’s cuter. You agree. 

His voice is soft when he asks, “Maybe we can go on the Ferris wheel later?” This is a far cry from the boy of sixteen who fainted at an amusement park just from seeing the drop on the biggest ride there. When you look up at him, his eyes are wide, boring into you, holding the stars in his pupils with a grin across his blue-stained lips, and how could you say no to that face? 

The platform by the Ferris wheel is sticky under your shoes, making you cringe with every step you take towards the front of the line. Heeseung’s grip on your hand is tighter than you think it’s ever been when he realises that you’re next to get on. This might be the most scared you’ve ever seen him, your poor boyfriend with his overpriced Kuromi headband shivering beside you. 

You frown at the sight, reaching up to kiss his cheek. “We don’t have to do this, Hee,” you say.

He tries to play it cool, shrugging with a nonchalance that doesn’t match the fear in his eyes. “I want to,” he assures, though his voice lacks conviction. 

“Are you sure?” The way he flinches when the ride operator opens the gate gives you his answer, but Heeseung is firm in his words as he pulls you towards the cart, despite wincing when the operator locks you in. “Baby,” you whisper, touching his cheek. “It’s not too late to get out.” 

In what appears to be a display of his bravery, he makes a show of rocking the carriage — only to be told off by the operator (who can’t be older than sixteen) — and cheering (with no conviction) about nothing in particular. You can’t help but laugh, the cart shaking slightly as you let your head fall back and you only laugh harder when Heeseung gasps because of it. 

He flinches again when the ride starts moving, an unsettling creak sending you forward just enough to allow the next victims — according to Heeseung — to get on the ride. When the last of them board, the wheel sets off in a slow spin and he spends the entire first rotation with his eyes clamped shut, only opening them after a while when he thinks the ride is over. 

The wheel creaks more than what you think is necessary and he only grows more and more outwardly uncomfortable, worrying his bottom lip with his teeth and gripping the safety bar above your laps until his knuckles turn white. 

“Would it make you feel better if I held your hand?” you coo, holding your left hand out to him. 

He rolls his eyes but takes your hand in his, holding it between his palms. Seemingly at ease, Heeseung shifts slightly in his seat to close the tiny gap between you, pressing his knee into yours. 

Even in the distance, the fair’s LED lights are beautiful, melting away into flashing bokeh before your eyes as the carriage inches higher and higher. You almost forget your company, leaning over the edge to get a better look, only for Heeseung to put his arm on your arm, mumbling, “Stop it.” 

His skin is warm despite the slight chill that comes with your increasing altitude, and you wish the carriage was smaller—cramped even, forcing the two of you together so tightly that you have no choice but to become one. You sit in the quiet of the night, excitement on the fairground growing quieter as the wheel spins, agonisingly slow, until eventually it’s just the two of you—you and Heeseung: the only people in the moment. 

The only people in the world.

“Why are we even on this thing?” you whisper, squeezing his hand. 

Heeseung shrugs his shoulders as gently as he can manage so as not to rock the carriage. His eyes are big when he looks at you, holding your gaze intently. “I wanted to be romantic.” 

Oh, Heeseung, you think, pressing your lips into a frown. He’s the sweetest person in the world and just the thought of it makes your stomach flutter. “You’re plenty romantic,” you say sincerely. 

He scoffs. “Yeah, because pretending you didn’t exist for a year is romantic.” 

“Yes! Very!” You chuckle, nodding your head. 

Again, he rolls his eyes at you but he uses his hand to hold your face, pulling you in. His kiss tastes like candy floss and the blue raspberry slushy you shared earlier, lips soft, relaxed against your own. Your hand reaches for his thigh, meeting instead with the squished plushy between your bodies and you can’t help but laugh. 

With your presentation out of the way, you and the guys are all sitting in Heeseung and Jay’s living room for the first night of Spring break. You’ve just about reached your limit, cuddling into Heeseung’s side with your eyes closed, sleepily listening to the conversation. It’s unintelligible, more laughter and wheezes than anything else. 

You shift your way into Heeseung’s lap after a while, moving around to get comfortable. It only takes two movements for him to grab you by the waist, holding you still. You try again, and his lips catch the shell of your ear. “Relax, baby. What’s up?”

“Nothing,” you admit, moving around again until he sighs, relieved, you think. A wicked grin spreads over your lips when you feel him getting hard, grinding down on him a little and liking the warmth that spreads in your stomach from having him pressed against you. 

“Stop it,” he whispers, kissing the spot behind your ear. 

You heed the warning but can’t help the thoughts filling your mind, though you try to ignore them, laughing at something Sunghoon said about Jake’s ugly hat and shoes. Jake doesn’t find it as funny as the rest of you seem to.

Another hour passes by in the same way before the boys stumble into Jay’s room, calling out a slurred goodnight to you and Heeseung on the couch. You stand up first, holding out a hand for him to take and giggling when he presses a kiss to the back of it. 

In his room, he stares at a spot on the wall as you close the door, a contemplative look on his face. “Are you okay?” you ask, but he doesn’t look at you, only nodding his head with a crease along his brow. 

You kiss him, a featherlight touch of your lips against his. It’s soft for a while, sweet and sincere until he clutches your shirt like his life depends on it. Heeseung’s hands are all over you, stroking and squeezing every part of you he can reach. Overwhelming heat burns your skin under his touch. He inhales sharply through his nose when you reach for his waistband, tugging the drawstring free but he grabs your wrist, stopping you. He keeps kissing you, keeps trying and frowns when you pull away. 

“You don’t want this?” 

He tilts his head, looking down at you with concern flooding his wide eyes. “Do you think we’re going too fast?” His voice is quiet and he chews on his lip after speaking. 

“We’ve been together for six years.” 

“A month,” he corrects, looking at his feet.

As badly as you want him, you don’t want him doing anything he’s not ready for, so you wiggle your arm free from his grip, dropping it at your side. He lifts his head to look at you, brows knitted together, the sweetest thing you’ve ever seen. “I don’t want to rush you.”

“It’s not that.” He shakes his head with wide eyes. “I just don’t want us doing anything you’ll regret.”

“I’m not going to regret this, I don’t regret anything we’ve done, Heeseung,” you say, holding his face in your hands. 

He closes his eyes, nodding. 

“Do you want to stop?” 

“Never,” he whispers and the word has you falling to your knees. 

It’s hard to see his exact expression in only the dim glow of the streetlights outside, but you can clearly see the way he’s watching you. The way his eyes are lidded as he chews on his bottom lip, watching you reach for the buckle on his belt. Heeseung threads his fingers through your hair, groaning, and for a few seconds, you’re hypnotised. Too wrapped up in tipsiness and lust to move your fingers, completely focused on the way his breath starts to pick up before you’ve even done anything. You’re starting to think it might be enough for him just to see you like this, on your knees for him, wide-eyed and eager. 

Whether on purpose or not, Heeseung tugs on your hair gently, pulling you from your trance. His blunt fingernails scratch at the back of your head as you undo his belt, tugging his jeans down. He steps out of them as soon as he can, smiling when you toss them behind you. Too worked up to wait, you push your face against him. You take a minute to hold his covered cock between your lips, shuddering at the feeling of the damp spot at the top of it. Heeseung grunts, bucking his hips. He looks like sin when you lock eyes with him, licking a strip to the top of his waistband, sucking and nipping at the skin and coarse hair there. 

“Quit teasing,” he says, still keeping control of his voice. 

You blink up at him sweetly, shaking your head. “I’m not,” you mumble, pulling his underwear down. 

Heeseung’s dick smacks his stomach with a wet sound that makes you clench around nothing, and you sit back on your heels to admire him. Maybe it’s from time, or your unbearable desire, but he looks bigger, thicker, and much prettier than you remember. When you finally drag your eyes from his dick, you notice a mark on his hip, right above where his thigh starts. It’s a smudge of something dark, inky almost. You furrow your brows, licking the pad of your thumb to try and get rid of it. He practically flinches when you touch it, moving away from you. The increased distance between you and the low lighting only further obscures it—when you rub at the mark it doesn’t budge. 

“What is this?” 

“It’s nothing,” he says, sitting down on the bed and covering it with his hand. 

If it was anyone other than Heeseung, you might have thought it was a tattoo, but you can’t make sense of the thought so it slips your mind as soon as it occurs. You reach for the lamp on his bedside table, flicking it on, losing your breath at the sight of his skin glowing golden in the light, and the tip of his cock is a tempting, glossy red. You can’t help but take him in your hand, stroking him slowly. 

“Tell me, baby.” 

“It’s a bruise,” he manages through a gasp, licking his lips.

Your thumb swipes over his slit and he crumbles. “Heeseung.” 

“Butterfly, it’s a butterfly.” 

A fuzzy warmth starts to bloom in your chest, overwhelming you. “Lay down,” you say, voice as soft as it’s ever been. 

Heeseung obliges, linking his fingers with yours when you move his hand from his thigh. Under the light, you can see it clearly, dark strokes of ink forming a pretty butterfly, tiny, and heart-achingly familiar. 

“Is it..” You trail off, moving your lips around words that you can’t get out as tears sting your eyes. “Did I draw this?” Leaning over him, you get as close as you can, using your finger to trace the shape. 

Sitting up on his elbows, he looks down at you with a worried look on his face as he nods. “Do you hate it?” 

“I love it.. it’s perfect.” You let go of his hand, using the back of your fingers to wipe at your eyes. 

Heeseung sits up, letting his hand cup your cheek and looking at you. He uses his thumb to wipe some of the tears you missed before leaning down and kissing you. His lips move slowly with yours, he’s being gentle, so gentle that you hear your heart thudding in your ears. 

“Come sit,” he mumbles against your mouth, helping you up and guiding you into his lap, a whine falling out of him when you sit on his cock and you mumble an apology that you don’t mean.

“When did.. Why did you..”

His shoulders rise and fall in a shrug. “My first birthday I spent without you. I just wanted to have something for you.”

You’ve seen it and you’ve heard it from him, but you still can’t make sense of it. “But you’re.. you’re Heeseung. You’d never get a tattoo, you told me that.” 

“I’ll probably never get another tattoo, it hurt like hell,” he says, frowning. 

“You’re such a sweetheart.” You cradle his face in your hands, gazing into his eyes, your sweet Heeseung. So different yet so incredibly similar. “You’re, like, obsessed with me.”

There’s a loud adoration in his eyes that makes your stomach turn. “How could I not be?” His smile is wide even though his lips are smushed a little by the way you’re holding his face. 

Heeseung tilts his chin towards you so you kiss him, the two of you passing moans and whines between your mouths as you grind on him, his hands gripping your waist under your shirt. He shudders under you, rutting his hips against yours with a groan. He’s harder than ever underneath you, his cock hot between your thighs, pressed up against your core in the most maddening way. It can’t be comfortable for him, the friction from your underwear but he seems like he’s enjoying it just as much as you, maybe more, you think, when he starts throbbing. 

Conscious of the boys across the hall, you try your best to be quiet, though Heeseung doesn’t share your concern, his lips parting too wide to keep kissing you and his head falling back as he lets a whine out into the air. His nails dig into your skin, hips speeding up more than you can keep up with as he trembles, clearly so close to the edge that you moan at the sight of him all fucked out in front of you. You chew on your lip, watching his whole face scrunch up before falling to your shoulder, his cum leaking out all over your panties and the tops of your thighs. A grin covers your lips while your pussy aches from the heat of his release and the feeling of his staggered breath hitting your skin. When he finally sits up, sweat slicks the column of his neck and chest, a nervous look in his eyes that he can’t quite bring to meet yours. 

“This is j—” Heeseung cuts you off by covering your mouth with his palm. 

“I remember. You don’t have to say it, baby, I remember.” 

“You were so cute that day,” you say when he moves his hand. Butterflies fill your stomach when you think about it, the first time you ever did anything with each other, with anyone. He was fifteen, with cute round glasses perched on the end of his nose and teeth too big for his mouth, finishing in his jeans with you in his lap.

“You don’t think I’m cute anymore?” he asks, frowning. 

“You’re always cute.”

Heeseung grins at your words, so wide and sweet your heart races. He kisses you gently and slips his hand into your underwear, his finger trailing the length of your pussy slowly, groaning into your mouth at how wet you are. You whine into the kiss when he strokes your clit and gasp when he pushes a finger into you easily. Gradually, he adds more fingers, fucking you open on his knuckles and watching as you fall apart.

His lips move from yours, falling to your neck so he can kiss and suck the sensitive skin there. “You feel so good, baby. My sweet girl,” he mumbles, breath searing your skin. The words make you clench, your stomach fluttering relentlessly as he uses his thumb to press on your clit, the pressure enough to make you spiral. It’s all too much too fast and before long, you’re squirming and mewling in Heeseung’s arms, finishing all over his fingers. 

Immediately, an excruciating flush burns every inch of your body as you hide your face in his neck to catch your breath. His arms wrap around you and he whispers sweet nothings into your hair while stroking your back.

Ever since that night in his room, all your senses feel heightened when Heeseung is around. 

And it doesn’t help that you spend every waking moment with him. Whether in his flat or yours, you’re joined at the hip and it’s near impossible not to pounce on him. In your stomach blooms a heat you haven’t felt in years. An all-consuming flame that makes you hold your breath when he cuddles you; makes you look away when he strips before showering.

He’s taken a liking to shirtlessness, only seeming to remember that the garments exist when he has to leave the house—which isn’t often now that classes have ended. This sudden cotton allergy plagues you, burning the image of his ever-increasing muscle definition and the tattoo on his hip into your memory, so deeply they’re the only things you see when you close your eyes at night. 

Even when Heeseung’s being romantic, cooking dinner for the two of you and almost burning his finger with a match while lighting a candle, you’re thinking about him fucking you. When he goes out with the boys and stumbles into your flat, drunk, with a crushed bouquet in his hands, you’re thinking about what might have happened if you’d gone out too. If he’d finger you in the back of a taxi or take you against the door when you got back. 

Weeks go by like this until you finally reach your limit. 

There’s nothing overtly sexual about the way Heeseung’s sitting. About the way his lashes kiss his cheeks when he blinks, or the way his hair sits in a sleepy mess on his forehead. But it’s Heeseung. So these things existing on him drive you crazy. 

Given the lack of privacy in your family homes — by way of an open-door rule when visiting each other — you and Heeseung didn’t have many opportunities to have sex that didn’t involve being tangled around one another in the backseat of his car. And even those occasions were few and far between. 

With the only three brain cells that seem to function around your shirtless boyfriend and your head on the doorjamb, you begin to scheme. It doesn’t have to be elaborate—just a way to get Heeseung to fuck you without you having to bring it up. 

“What’s up, baby?” he asks, finally looking over at you. His voice pulls you out of your thoughts, with a raspiness to it that makes your thoughts run wild. From head to toe, his eyes drag over your body, his tongue coming out to run over his lips. 

Clearly, a very delicate, well-timed conversation is in order and the gears in your mind scrape against each other, turning egregiously as you try to figure out how to start the conversation. “I want you to fuck me,” you blurt out. Not the most delicate approach, but the way Heeseung’s eyes widen suggests you might be on the right track. “I didn’t mean to say that,” you admit sheepishly. 

He chuckles deeply in a way you haven’t heard in years. “So you don’t want me to fuck you?” There’s a challenge in his question, evident from his raised brow, the setting aside of his phone, and the way he sits up straight. The movement forces the duvet to slip a little, falling from above his belly button to his hips in one fell — effortlessly sexy — swoop. 

In spite of this, you can’t help but roll your eyes at him. How could you be standing there, in nothing but his t-shirt, asking him to fuck you and he’s caught up on semantics? “That’s not what I’m saying.” 

“What are you saying?” When you don’t say anything, Heeseung lifts the duvet from his body entirely, grinning when your gaze locks on his hips. His pyjama pants are sitting low enough to show off the waistband of his underwear, and they don’t do anything to hide the way his hard cock pushes against them.

Heeseung towers over you, overwhelming you and the space of the doorframe as his mouth quirks up at one corner. “You want it, baby?” he asks, his voice soft as he cups your face in his hand, using his thumb to trace your lips. 

His face dips down to yours and you can’t resist reaching up to kiss him, whining at the contact as you move your lips in sync with his. The sounds he’s making are dizzying, deep groans you feel in your chest. His hand grips your waist, pulling you as close as possible so you can feel him, hard and thick, pressing against you. 

You whimper when he pulls away, chasing his kiss, but Heeseung only chuckles. “Say the word and I’m yours,” he whispers, looking down at you with those big eyes. 

“I’m not going to beg.” 

He smiles sweetly, a soft curve of his lips summoning butterflies. “Suit yourself,” he says, leaning down to press a kiss to the base of your neck and leaving the room. 

Flustered, you follow him, flinging your arms around his waist and pressing your face into his back. “Okay, I’m going to beg.”

“I’m listening.” 

“I need you,” you mumble into his skin. 

“You have me.” 

Even though his words and the way his lips audibly split into a grin make your heart race, you can’t help your frustration. “Heeseung,” you say, pleading with him. 

He frees himself from your grip, turning around. When you look up at him, he’s watching you closely through lidded eyes, his lips parted in a soft pout that makes your heart melt. His arms wrapped around your shoulders, holding you close enough to feel him pressing against you. “I’m all yours, baby. What’s up?”

“Why are you torturing me?”

This makes him smile as he shakes his head. “I’m not.” 

“Please.”

He brings a hand up to your face, his thumb stroking your cheek and you can’t help but nuzzle into his palm. “Please what?” 

“You know what I need and I can’t go any longer without it,” you mumble into his hand. Heeseung only raises a brow and you sigh. Somehow, your want for him is greater than your embarrassment so you sigh, looking him in the eye. “If you want to, please, please, fuck me, Heeseung. Any way you want, baby, just promise me you’ll do it. I need it, need you.” 

A shit-eating grin takes over his face as he leans down to press a kiss to your forehead. “Was that so hard?” he asks, frowning when you don’t reply. “Don’t get all moody, baby, talk to me.” 

Heeseung picks you up, holding you close as you wrap your legs around his waist. Both of his hands are spread over your ass and you’re too embarrassed to say anything, chewing your lip and staring at the little mole on his forehead. 

“Need me to fuck you ‘til you can talk again?” There’s a roughness to his voice that makes your cheeks flush, but you can’t help but laugh, head falling back in a fit of cackles. 

“What are you talking about?” 

His pretty lips come together in a pout before he speaks. “I don’t know.” He shrugs, the tips of his ears burning red as he carries you to his room, using his foot to close the door behind him. “I’m rusty.”

You shake your head before kissing his forehead. “You’re perfect.”

Heeseung sets you down on the bed gently, crawling over you. “I like seeing you in my shirts,” he says, clutching the fabric in his fists, tugging a little. 

“Someone has to wear them.”

A breathy laugh falls from his lips. “What?” He tilts his head, leaning away from you to sit back on his heels. “You don’t like seeing me like this?” 

It’s hard to find a balance between missing his warmth and looking at his body. Staring at the definition that marks his chest and stomach and the way his muscles stick out over his biceps, you can feel yourself leaking at the sight of him. Your eyes catch on his waistband, on the strip of hair that’s cut off by the start of the fabric before falling to the bulge in his pants. 

“You’re looking at me like I’m your next meal,” he mumbles, leaning back over you with a deep flush on his cheeks and neck.

“I think I want you to be.” 

“You think?”

You nod eagerly, anticipation swirling in your stomach. 

“Anything I can do to make you certain?” Heeseung’s voice is thick with something you think could be enough to make you finish. 

“Whatever you want,” you say, desperate. 

He chews on his lip, considering you for a while before kissing your cheek. Once more, he sits up, tugging at your waist. “First, I want this shirt out of my way,” he says with a smile. 

Immediately, you lean off the bed to let him take it off, tossing it behind him. “Anything else?” 

Heeseung’s too busy staring to speak, taking you in hungrily with a jarring combination of lust and adoration behind his eyes. You thought you’d feel shy about him seeing you after so long, but you’ve never felt more comfortable in your life as he reaches down to lock his fingers with yours. He brings your hand up to his mouth, kissing the back of it. “You’re so pretty,” he says against your skin. 

There’s no stopping the flutter in your stomach or the smile that spreads over your lips. You tell him you love him and he says it back as he leans back down to kiss you slowly, his tongue licking into your mouth at an agonising pace, a line of saliva connecting you to him when he pulls away. 

“I want to get my head between your legs,” he mumbles, letting his hand dip between your spread thighs. “So wet already?” he asks, dragging your slick up to your clit, rubbing it with a featherlight touch that leaves a whine slipping from your lips. “Will you let me?” 

You nod. 

Heeseung smiles and you match it before he dips his head into the crook of your neck, kissing the skin there for a minute. His breath and wet mouth are hot, burning a trail down to your collarbone and chest, where he gets distracted, pulling one of your nipples between his lips.

Your stomach twists at the sight of him, his pretty, pouty lips sucking and biting at your sensitive skin, the way he’s moaning against you, using his thick fingers to tug and pinch your other breast. It takes him a while to move on but you don’t complain, even when he presses tickly kisses to your stomach. 

When he reaches your legs, he gets off the bed, kneels on the floor and hooks his arms around your thighs to pull you towards him. You feel exposed when he uses his thumbs to spread you, staring at your pussy with wide eyes, his lips parted a little until his head falls back with a groan. 

“Missed this pussy. Been thinking about it so much, all the time. So beautiful, baby.” He manages to drag his gaze from between your legs to lock eyes with you. “You’re so beautiful, baby.” His lips touch your thighs, kissing the soft skin there, sucking marks into it and biting softly. The sting is subtle but it makes you clench, a movement that isn’t lost on him. “You’re so needy, huh? You want me that bad?” he asks, looking up with a tilted head. 

You mumble the word ‘no’ and shake your head. “Need you.” The words come out of their own accord, nothing more than a desperate whine that makes Heeseung press his eyes shut. You watch as he shifts on the floor, leaning in and giving you the attention you deserve. 

Heeseung’s nose grazes your slit and you gasp at the sudden contact, flinging your head back into the pillows when he licks a strip from there to your clit, giving it a quick peck. 

You card your fingers through his hair, gripping at the strands so hard it must hurt, but he doesn’t seem to mind, going slow despite the way you’re trying to rut against his face. He kisses the spot above your clit, his tongue poking out to lick at the skin there, only hitting the bud a few times and the anticipation is enough to make you spiral. 

Time stands still, all concept of it demolished when, finally, he wraps his lips around your swollen clit, running his tongue over it with a pressure that leaves you shaking against the sheets. Moans pour out of you like water from a faucet with nothing but pleasure and Heeseung’s sweet mouth crossing your mind. 

It doesn’t seem like he’s ever going to stop, only coming up for air for a brief moment before sticking a finger into you and attaching his mouth to your clit, burying himself in your wetness. The stretch is minimal, barely registering in the waves of pleasure crashing over you, until he adds a second finger, thick and rigid as he works you open for him. By the time his third finger enters, you have to pull him away by his hair, struggling to find the words to say and settling on a whiny cry of his name.

“Hmm?” He looks up at you, face covered in slick that shines on his chin and nose, shoulders rising and falling heavily, but his fingers don’t let up, curling towards your belly button torturously slow.

“Want to cum with you inside.”

Heeseung’s eyes darken and he licks his lips. “Yeah?” 

“Uh-huh, and I don’t want you using a condom either, want you to fill me up.”

“Are you sure?” 

You nod. “I’m still on the pill and you’re the only person I’ve ever been with.”

Heeseung wastes no time standing up from the floor, watching hungrily as you sigh at the emptiness, moving up on the bed. He uses his fist to pump his cock slowly, sighing when he drags his thumb over his tip. A beat passes before he grins, boyish and handsome while crawling over you again. His face softens and his eyes burn into yours as he cups your cheek in his palm. “You sure about this?” 

“I’m sure, Heeseung, you’re all I want,” you whisper, pecking his lips. 

“Me too.” 

He uses his free hand to reach for his cock, rubbing his tip over your clit and chewing on his lip. He lets his cock split your folds, grinding his length against you, rubbing your cunt with a wet sound that fills the room. Heeseung straightens up and you moan when he spits into his palm, stroking himself before pressing the head of his cock to your entrance. You hold your breath, bracing for the stretch and crying out when he pushes in. His head falls forward with a sigh, his hair tickling your forehead.

“I missed you,” he groans when he bottoms out, his thumb running over your lips. A moan slips out of him when you open your mouth, running your thumb over the pad of his finger and sucking on it. “Missed these pretty lips, this pussy. Don’t know how I got on without it.” His words and the feeling of him inside after so long only make you dizzy, knowing that he wanted you like you wanted him. He watches you with parted lips, rocking his hips tenderly against yours. 

“Faster, Hee,” you whisper. “Harder.” 

Heeseung’s brows knit together and he slows to a pace that lets you feel single vein and inch of him as he bottoms out before pulling almost all the way out. “Can you take it?” he asks, a jarring tone to his voice that you think is a challenge. 

You nod desperately. “Please.” 

The word flips a switch for him and he speeds up, thrusting so hard, so deep that your back arches off the bed as his tip nudges your g-spot each time. Just when it all starts to feel too much, Heeseung lifts one of your legs, hitting deeper than he has before and tangling up a knot in your stomach. 

“You’re so good, baby, so good for me.” His eyes are dark and lidded, full of all the love in the world as he gazes into yours, a tangible love that overwhelms you, eating you alive along with his praise.

Sweltering heat stretches through every part of your body at the drag of him inside, the push and pull of his cock along your stuttering walls. It’s enough to make you shiver and a cry of his name rips out of you when he starts rubbing your clit again, pushing the bud in slow circles that make you screw your eyes shut. 

“That’s it. Cum for me, baby, make a mess,” he whispers and that’s as much as you can take. 

Stars flash behind your closed eyes as every single part of your body sets alight, dazed by Heeseung’s whines and the feeling of being full, finally being full, until both ends of the knot tug and tug, leaving you with nothing but a hoarse moan that dies in your throat as your orgasm hits you like a truck. 

A lewd squelch accompanies each of his thrusts as they get sloppier and sloppier, losing their rhythm and intensity. It seems like he’s right there with you though when he collapses on top of you, his head falling into the crook of your neck and his moans slipping out like music to your ears.

It’s hard not to fall apart under him, but you try your best, dragging your nails over the toned muscles of his back while telling him you love him over and over until he finishes. Both of you are trembling, fighting for breath and whining as Heeseung sloppily fucks you full of his cum. The sound is downright pornographic, loud and wet as your cum mixes with his for the first time in so long. An inexplicable intimacy so thick it hangs in the air, perching on your shoulders as he looks into your eyes. 

Heeseung slows down after a while, stopping completely but not pulling out yet, keeping you full and aching around him. When he catches his breath, he gives you a dreamy smile, thanking you before pressing soft kisses to every part of your face he can reach. 

You whine when he pulls out, missing him as soon as he’s gone. Despite your sensitivity, you want to beg him to come back, to slip back into you and stay forever, though Heeseung has other plans. He sits between your legs, dragging a lazy finger up your slit and watching with a smile as cum leaks out. You squirm against the sheets, pushing your head into the pillow when he uses two fingers to push it back in.

“Wish I could keep you full like this forever,” he mumbles absently, curling his fingers. 

All you can do is sigh happily. Long minutes go by until he takes his fingers out of you, reaching behind him for his shirt to wipe you up before leaning down to your face, mumbling against your lips to come and shower with him.

You’ve never showered with Heeseung before and a voice in your head tells you to press your cheek against the tile and let him have you again, but you’re way too sleepy for that. The warmth of the water and his big hands roaming your body do nothing to help, only forcing your eyes to fall shut as you lean back against Heeseung’s chest, willing yourself to stay awake. 

Once you’re all showered and clean, you only feel sleepier, standing on the plush bath mat in front of the steamed-up mirror. Droplets of water trickle down your skin and you can’t help but revel in the warmth of the room around you. Wrapped snugly in a soft, fluffy towel, you find yourself too tired to follow Heeseung out, slathering some of the expensive moisturiser Jay keeps in the bathroom over your skin. You peer into the mirror, though you don’t see much, and for a moment, it’s just you and the steady trickle of water from the showerhead. The bathroom smells like Heeseung’s minty shower gel and you miss him already, but you take your time anyway, savouring the moment and everything that came before it. 

You find him in his room when you’re done, tucking the last corner of a fitted sheet around his mattress. 

“You want to nap, baby?” he asks when he sees you, holding out a clean shirt for you to wear. 

“Mm,” you hum, nodding your head and dropping the towel so he can put the shirt over your head. 

“Let me just fix the pillowcases, yeah?” 

You nod, slumping into his desk chair and watching the muscles in his back shift and flex as he moves around the room, dumping the dirty bedding into his laundry basket and slipping the clean linen over his pillows. He pulls the duvet back and pats the mattress, grinning when you shake your head and make grabby hands in his direction, 

Heeseung stretches his arms above his head and comes over to you but you stop him before he can pick you up. 

“I’m going grocery shopping with Yunjin later and I need a pound for the trolley, do you have any?” you ask through a yawn. 

He scratches his chin, thinking about it. “If I do, they’re in my wallet,” he says, reaching for it on the desk and handing it to you before taking a seat on the end of his bed. 

When you pull on the zipper to open the coin slot, you find a shiny pound coin and a folded piece of lined paper. You leave the coin where it is and hold the paper between two fingers for him to see. “What’s this?” 

Immediately, he hides his face with his hands but you can still see the flush on his ears. You’re not sure what reaction you were expecting, but despite your curiosity, you won’t look at it if he doesn’t want you to. “Sorry, baby,” you say, putting it back. “Forget I asked.” 

Heeseung sighs, looking up at you through the gaps in his fingers. “You can look if you want, it’s nothing bad, just mildly humiliating.” 

Nervous anticipation settles over your body and you can’t help but laugh a little, feeling your breath catch in your throat when you unfold the crumpled and creased paper. It’s blank. You arch a curious brow at Heeseung, who, though still slightly embarrassed, gestures for you to turn it over. 

What meets your eyes on the other side leaves you stunned. There, inked in blue with delicate care yet bearing the natural imperfections of a hand-drawn butterfly, was a familiar image. It’s the very same butterfly you drew in your notebook on a spring date with him four years ago. Your fingers tremble as you trace the lines, your heart racing as you remember how he’d torn it from the page, eyes full of appreciation for the simple drawing. 

Tears well up in your eyes when it dawns on you. It’s the very same butterfly he has tattooed on his hip, a permanent reminder of your love that endured separation and time. 

Your voice is weak as you look up at him, quivering with emotion. “You kept it after all these years,” you whisper.

Heeseung smiles, his eyes full of love. “I never let go of what matters to me.” 

© zreamy (2023), all rights reserved. do not repost, translate, or plagiarise my work. do let my know your thoughts !

permanent taglist: @asahicore

#this is one of the best things i’ve ever read on here 😭 #crying #this was so so soft #highly recommend!!! #heeseung #lee heeseung #won’t let you go (this time) #zreamy

[sleepingrenjun]

⋅ GENRES: strangers to lovers & summer romance AU; angst, fluff & smut

⋅ PAIRING: street racer!Heeseung x fem!reader

⋅ WORD COUNT: 26.8K

⋅ WARNINGS: illegal street racing (oh, really?!); mentions of alcohol, implied driving while drunk; a fight scene, mentions of blood and bruises; Heeseung is flirty and it’s a concerning warning; skinny dipping; unprotected sex multiple times

dedicated to @end-hyphen ♡ thank you for hearing my brainstorms, my insecurities, and my stupid questions. thank you for reading all the drafts without telling me to shut up even though I deserved it. You are the best, soul sister!

                  TRACK 01 OF TAKE MY HAND

Heeseung had never believed in love, at least not the real thing — not the capable of awakening his soul and bringing peace to his mind type of love.

It happened to other people, in other places, but not to him in the small county of Hongcheon. Yet, it did.

In the summer of his twenty-four years, you came into his life, and from the moment he saw you, he knew he was gone — heart on the flatline.

Lee Heeseung wasn’t the type of person to obey the speed limits. He maybe once was, but after so many years in the race, he had become too impatient for it.

He liked the speed. He liked how the sound of the engine muffled his heartbeats, the way the gear stick felt familiar against the palm of his hand, and above all — he liked how, even if for just a few moments, he was capable of being free from everything.

If someone ever dared to take the road up the hills, it wouldn’t be hard to find him there — beneath the scorching sun and leaving only the idea of the memory of his black BMW as he raced through.

And it hadn’t been different on that first afternoon of summer.

Heeseung stepped on the brakes, raising a trail of smoke as the car squealed through the asphalt before coming to a stop. It didn’t take long until Jake followed suit, pulling beside him with his showy Camaro. However, the breeze barely had time to heal from all the racing noises before Heeseung shot the car forward and back, causing Jake to laugh loudly. Both of them, connoisseurs of the street races, knew Heeseung was inciting another race, even though they had just finished one.

“We have to head back,” Jake shouted. “Or else we are going to be late and Jungwon is going to be mad — I don’t like it when Jungwon is mad.”

The clock of the BMW showed precisely half past six, and the town was right beneath them. If they followed the speed limits they would arrive just on time, but if they didn’t — the possibilities were infinite.

“To the town’s entrance then?” Heeseung asked, making Jake laugh once again.

“Just down the hill,” he agreed. “It's summer and the highways are going to be full.”

“Deal.”

Jake stepped on the gas pedal, making the Camaro wail with no previous warning. It was a glorious car — with its capacity, Heeseung always thought it was an almost equal competitor to his BMW M4, but Jake always messed up the shift from the fourth to the fifth gear. It doesn’t matter how many times he raced, Jake always lost the precious second between them, and Heeseung always used it to blow by.

Through the rearview mirror, Heeseung saw Jake laughing at the already lost competition, but he didn’t hold to it for too long. Between a turn and another, Hongcheon spread beyond him, the beautiful town embroiled in the middle of a steady chain of hills and a sparkling river. The sky was an ideal shade of orange above it all, with not a single cloud to shade the late sunset.

The summer of his twenty-four years was beginning, although Heeseung didn’t know what it truly meant — yet.

                                      ┈┈┈┈

When you agreed to join your family on their annual summer trips after years of fully dedicating yourself to the university. You surely didn’t expect your first night away would be so university-like.

Your parents had chosen Hongcheon as the destination, a stunning and peaceful county just one hour away from Seoul. And with a rented house on the hill and a back garden the size of a park, you expected a lay-down vacation — full of ice teas and watching sunsets on the back porch. And perhaps it would have been if the county wasn’t as well Hayoung’s hometown, your cousin and friendly guide as she entitled herself while she pulled you out of the front doors and into the summer night.

By the time you arrived at the house of whoever her colleague and party hostess was, the place was already full to its end, the strum of a low bass blasting through the opened door, and the interior heavy with the smell of alcohol, cigarettes, and too many damp skins.

“Hayoung!” someone screamed above the loud music.

The stranger stopped before both of you, his lazy smile and unfocused eyes only advising he was already wavering between the states of soberness and drunkenness.

“Who’s that?” he asked, pointing at you with the tip of his beer.

“Y/N, my cousin.”

“Lovely, I didn’t know you had one,” he said. You furrowed your eyebrow at that, a perfect mirror of your cousin’s reaction. If there was something to say, you didn’t know what it could be, and neither did Hayoung as she preferred to change the topic.

“Have you seen Sunhae?”

“Rooftop with that Jungwon guy of hers and his friends.”

“Thanks,” she said, fingers already curling around your elbow and guiding you away.

Everything that happened from the front hall to the rooftop was forgotten before the next step was taken. People stopped Hayoung to greet her and asked who you were in confusion. You shouted your name at strangers, and they shouted theirs back, both ends pretending it would be something they would keep and remember for more than a couple of seconds. A woman pressed two bottles of soju into your palms, the only thing you would have truly appreciated in the meantime if they clearly hadn’t been opened and were already missing a few sips when she did. You preferred to abandon them somewhere within the stairs.

Hayoung opened the rooftop door, gesturing for you to go in first, and when you did, immediately Hongcheon’s summer shrouded you. The music became just an echo through your feet and the darkness of the interior was taken by string lights hanging on the wooden beans. You had to blink a few times to get used to it, and only then you saw Sunhae, that Jungwon guy of hers, and his friends — the four of them focused on a dartboard poorly placed in one of the beams.

Sunhae was the first one to notice you, running to your cousin and briefly hugging her before she turned to you.

“Hi, I am Sunhae,” she said, her tone so cheerful that it was difficult to not feel welcomed. “Hayoung’s roommate in the university dorms, but you probably know it.”

“I do,” you smiled. “I am Y/N.”

“Oh, I know,” Sunhae laughed. “But those guys probably don’t know you and you probably don’t know those guys.”

“The smallest black-haired one is Jungwon,” she started. However, she didn’t need to finish her sentence for you to know it — not only because the stranger at the front hall called Jungwon hers, but because as soon as her eyes landed on him, it glinted. The silliest yet most honest indication of being in love. “My boyfriend.”

“The silvered-haired one is—”

“I am Jake,” he said, turning to you and extending his hand. “Jungwon’s roommate in the university dorms.”

He seemed so eager to share his role in Jungwon’s life that you couldn’t help but laugh at it, soft and airy, allowing the sound to blend in with the breeze.

“Y/N,” you said, taking his hand and shaking it.

As you looked at the last of them, he was already watching you. And there’s no way it hadn’t been something crafted inside of your mind, but for a brief moment, time seemed to have stopped. Ranging a little bit so, many years later, when that night became just a memory of your youth days, you would still remember how despite the warm weather he wore a leather jacket, a plain black t-shirt, and a silver necklace that glinted almost as much as his eyes beneath the summer sky.

“I am Heeseung,” he said, moving his gaze at Jake for a brief second before he turned back to you, smiling. “I don’t think I have something special to state.”

His accent didn’t escape you. You had already noticed the difference between Seoul and Gangwon residents, the way people from the province rolled the vowels and cut the end of the phrases making it hastened, but if anything, it only made his voice warmer.

“It’s nice to meet you,” you said. Heeseung extended his hand at you. It was a little bit too late for the greeting but you took it anyway, allowing him to fold his fingers around yours.

“Are you good with darts?” he asked.

“Darts? I think I can make my way through it.”

“Great,” Heeseung said. “I don’t want to lose and Jake is terrible at it, so you are my new partner.”

When you didn’t oppose it, he used your connected hands to pull you to him, and suddenly he was so close and the air stuffy. He smelled like the summer nights, like the brisk breeze of the county, like peonies, but as well as the leather of his jacket, and something that you remembered from the day your father taught you how to drive, the smokey scent when you couldn’t pull the car up the hill and forced the engine to its maximum.

“Should we bet?” Sunhae suggested. “We always bet.”

“Drinks?”

“Boring,” she paused, just for a brief moment before her face lighted up as if she had been struck with a great idea. “The carnival always needs volunteers.”

“It doesn’t seem bad,” Hayoung said.

“To operate the tents, but the losing team should volunteer to wear the sheep costume and hand the flyers.”

You laughed at the absurd, and Heeseung's eyes landed back on you again, his eyebrows lifted as amusement rushed through his face almost too fast to be noticed.

“Are you fine with this?” he asked.

“We aren’t going to lose, are we?” you asked instead, and his eyes glinted playfully at you.

“No.”

“So I am fine,”

“Do the honors, princess,” he said, extending one of the darts.

The nickname tingled through your body, making heat grow into your cheeks. Yet, Heeseung didn’t realize what he had said until a second later when your hand hung above the extended dart for a heartbeat more, but if anything, his smile widened.

Hayoung decided to be just a watcher together with Jake, making it you and Heeseung against Jungwon and Sunhae.

As the night went on and the party began to wind down on the floors below, you thought the bet had long been forgotten until Jake called everyone’s attention.

“Last round before we run out,” he announced. “Y/N has to score more than thirty points to have a direct win.”

“Excuse me? How much?” you demanded, making him laugh at your uneasiness.

“Thirty,” he repeated, enjoyment rushing through each pronounced letter. “or else you give an opportunity to Jungwon and Sunhae to win and Heeseung is wearing a sheep costume — not that I am hoping for it.”

You looked at Heeseung, uncertainties swaying your gaze. He hesitated only for a moment before he stepped behind you, one of his hands slightly resting on your waist as the other folded around your hand, positioning it.

“It’s her turn,” Jake protested.

“The dart is in her hand,” Heeseung replied with mischief.

Your head turned to him, drawing out a question. However, his breath brushed through your lips, the bitterness of the beer he had been drinking reaching through your tongue almost as if you were the one drinking it, and you allow it to slip and slide away, everything on you focusing on the small pressure of his fingertips on your skin.

“I am holding it for you,” he whispered, voice winding through your hair. Heeseung moved both of your hands, and you looked forward in time to see the dart sticking precisely at the center of the dartboard.

Jungwon screamed, abandoning the dart he wouldn’t have any opportunity to use on the table before he took Sunhae’s hand and rushed to the rooftop door. Jake laughed, following behind, and then you understood that it was their thing. Jake meant it when he said to run out. It was their way to leave and your chest ached to see this inner thing of theirs.

Hayoung stepped past you, a gentle smile traversing her lips before she as well rushed through the door, leaving it open for you and Heeseung.

There was a small pause, a small gap in time as he reached for the top of your head, threading his fingers through your hair as he gave a soft and quick pat.

“Thank you for saving me from the sheep costume,” he said, all mischief and teasing as he stepped back. You prepared yourself to hear him leaving too, the sound of his steps echoing together with the now turned-down music, but he didn’t walk away. Heeseung just stayed still, waiting for you to look at him so he could slightly tip his head at the door.

He led you downstairs, and when someone stumbled on you, he took your hand in his, pulling you close to him and shielding you from the party still going through the corridors until you are out into the warm summer night again. The stars hung so low in the sky, none of you really could tell if it was too late or too early.

“Can I drive you home?” he asked.

“With all due respect, I don’t trust drivers like you, Lee,” Hayoung interrupted. “And you have drunk too much, I am taking my cousin back home safely.”

“Fair,” Heeseung exhaled, looking at where your cousin stood. For an instant he faltered, his shoulders tightened as if he suddenly was carrying some weight. However, when he turned back to you, it was gone, he was smiling again. “Am I seeing you at the carnival?”

“Yes.”

His thumb brushed softly against the back of your hand before he let it go.

“Until then, princess.”

Hongcheon was unbelievably warmer than Seoul. The sun had long disappeared through the horizon, yet remnants of the summer heat still lingered in the breeze, caressing your skin with a certain overprotective tenderness as you stood in the middle of the carnival.

You immediately could tell the place had some story with the county. The food carts were old in a lovely way, the tint faded with the number of years of the sun setting on them.

Heeseung was the first one to notice you lagging behind, head turning to everything but the group. You had already collected your picture of Jungwon in sheep costume, but even as you did it, you seemed distracted.

His hand met your elbow, startling you for a second before you noticed it was him.

“Distract much?” he smiled. “Are you alright?”

You exhaled, and the Ferris wheel spilling its mechanical music together with the coin-toss machines stole the sound of it.

“Sunhae made fun of me when I said it.”

“Sunhae would make fun of the world’s end,” he said. “Tell me, what’s it?”

“I have never been to a carnival and my mouth is watering to taste those toffee apples.”

“Toffee apples?” Heeseung asked, but there was no judgment in his words. Although he kept his smile, he didn’t laugh like Sunhae, he didn’t murmur city people beneath his breath like Hayoung. Heeseung simply looked between you and the toffee apple cart, his eyebrow raised before he held his hand at you. “I would prefer you telling me you never had snow cones or corn hot dogs, but fine.”

“I have never tried those too,” you said, placing your hand in his.

“And never rode bumped cars or a carousel?”

“Never.”

“We should do it in the proper way then,” he said, slightly leaning into your direction. You brightened at it, and he knew even though it seemed like a silly program, there was nothing he should rather do tonight.

He guided you through the crowd, hand clasp against yours. The line for the toffee apples was small, but the bumper cars seemed enormous just like all the other attractions, and Heeseung started an ask game. You liked the way he did it. It was more that he genuinely wanted to know about you instead of the polite questions to prevent a conversation from ending. But only when you were on the top of the Ferris wheel, summer breeze musing your hair in a way only the county’s warmth could manage, did he break the question he wondered the most.

“You really never went to a carnival?”

“No, I didn’t.”

“Why so? There aren’t any carnivals in Seoul?”

“There are,” you said. “There was one in the same avenue of my middle school actually, it’s just a thing of mine. My parents never had much time to do those types of things when I was younger, they were just starting their business, and because of—”

“Well, I never had real friends during this period, they always wanted something from me. They invited themselves to my house, but it was because of the things I had and not because of me.”

“So somehow I was always too lonely to go. Of course, I had other friends during high school and I do have friends in University, but things are different,” you explained. “So yes, I never went to a carnival.”

When you finished, Heeseung had been silent for so long that you thought he had zoned out — leaving you to talk to the furor of the place.

But you looked at him, and he was there — staring at you with the oddest expression someone had ever turned on you. The deliberately unnerving, otherworldly stare that lasted several more seconds than was comfortable for two strangers who aren’t really strangers anymore, and your cheeks grew warmer. You were not sure why you decided to tell him about your life like this, you had met him just a few days previously. But it was summer, the season when people do things they would never think of, it was late at night, the world so warm that it felt safe to let secrets be spilled in the wind, and Heeseung — he felt safe too.

He leaned in, and his eyes flickered beneath the night, mischief glinting as if he wanted to tell you the most beautiful thing he had ever known.

“It sucks,” he said, however, and you laughed at this, head thrown back, the sound so carefree and soft it was impossible for him to not smile back at you.

He reached for the bar behind your shoulders, coming so close you didn’t only hear the next words, but you felt them rushing through your skin.

“But if you ever decide to binge all the attractions of a carnival again, or if you feel like doing anything you couldn’t — I am here,” he said, reaching for the top of your head, his fingers threaded through your hair as he gave the same soft and quick pat he did on the night of the party.

                                      ┈┈┈┈

There was something special about the night, an unfathomable pleasure in even the tiniest things.

By the time Heeseung and you left the Ferris wheels, the crowd was still far from thinning and the night far from giving away. Laughter filled every single gush of breeze together with the summer heat.

The only place left was the coin-toss machine to binge all the carnival attractions, and Heeseung immediately guided you there, fingers twinned on yours, he didn’t seem to want to let you go, and you didn’t mind it.

“How does it work?” you asked, taking him to the machine which caught your attention. It didn’t have a claw like the conventional ones, and the prizes stood on shelves — all of them way more expensive than stuffed animals.

“You select the number of the prize you want,” Heeseung explained. “Then you use the hammer to hit this handle here.”

He had to speak loudly for you to hear him beneath the sounds of the machines, something he thought to be inconvenient, so he inclined his head, his lips just centimeters apart from your ear before he continued.

“Based on the strength you used it will give you a number, if it’s the same number as the prize you selected, you win.”

“Seems rigged,” you said, turning to look at him. “But I want to try.”

Heeseung stared down at you, amused eyes shining beneath the colorful lights from the toss-coin machines.

“Ok,” he exhaled. “What prize do you want?”

“The analog camera,” you said, a single finger prodding the smudged plexiglass.

Heeseung was fast on taking off a coin from the pocket of his jeans, tossing it inside the machine and allowing it to glow, the music turning even louder. You watched as he fumbled through the buttons, putting in the number for the analog camera.

“Do the honors, princess,” he said, handing you the hammer.

However, when you hit the handle the number landed far from the desired one. Your lips curled in discontentment, and although Heeseung thought your expression was the cutest thing he had seen during his twenty-four years of living, there was a certain urge in him to make it disappear.

“Let me try,” he said, taking his wallet from the back pocket of his jeans and putting a few of the spare coins he had in.

You handed him the hammer a second before the machine shone again, the mechanical music turning a bit louder to indicate it was ready for another failed try.

“Definitely rigged,” he exhaled. But again and again, Heeseung seized the wallet from the back pocket of his jeans, counted his coins, and inserted it in the machine. On the fourth time, he got tired of the whole process and simply asked you to hold the wallet for him.

Two couples waited behind and you smiled apologetically at them before you turned back at Heeseung.

“Heeseung, it’s ok — it’s forming a line.”

It was the first time you had ever said his name, and it caught him off guard. Not only because of your accent, but coming from your lips, it sounded soft and slow, almost as if you had stolen it and made it all yours.

“One more time,” he asked. “Just one more time.”

When he hit the handle again, you inclined yourself to his side, an innocent act for a better view of the changing numbers, but suddenly you were so close, and your perfume attained so strongly on his lungs that it felt more intimate than it. For a few seconds, Heeseung stayed still, unconsciously allowing his thoughts to slip away as he remained, once again, completely lost in the sense of you.

At the party, he thought you smelled like sunlight, like the spring flowers, and everything about warmth, but no, it was sweeter than that. Like sugar in the air, like a promise.

Your breath brushed through the exposed skin of his neck, leaving goosebumps on its wake and he barely noticed the numbers moving and reaching the exact digit for the analog camera.

“You did it.” you gasped, your hand reaching for his almost unconsciously. “Oh my, you did it.”

His gaze fell over you and he smiled — truly smiled. Heeseung grinned like a boy. The innocent act reflected through his eyes for a moment before he bent in and took the camera box and extended it for you.

“You should keep it,” you said. “It was all your perseverance.”

“It’s yours,” he replied. His delight was almost palpable.

“Come on,” one of the women behind said. “Take that box and give your boyfriend a thank you kiss.”

She had the same hasted accent as the Gangwon’s residents, and it took you a heartbeat longer to make sense of what she had said, but when you did, you immediately could feel the heat growing into your cheeks.

“He is not— he is not my—” you started, looking back at Heeseung, but he only held your gaze steadily. His eyes still sparkling with the echoes of his laugh and you let everything go with a single hitch of breath.

He reached for your hand again, the gesture already rushing through your skin with a familiarity that made your heart ache. He guided you away from the machines, yet the furor of the place was still high and wild, almost muffing his question when it finally came out.

“Can I kiss you?”

Heeseung didn’t seem the type of person to falter easily, but you could swear he was on the verge of it. He moved continuously through your silence, fingers tickling on yours, a shoulder twitched. He shook his head, just slightly, as if he was fixing his bangs, but it was just an attempt to hide the shyness in him.

You didn’t notice you had been holding your breath until a second later, when you felt your lungs loosening with the single word of confirmation you managed to utter.

You looked up at him and the carnival lights gilded your skin, holding you so preciously beneath the dark sky that Heeseung started to have second thoughts.

The moment seemed to take forever, it seemed to take no time at all. Your simple yes unfolded within the summer breeze slowly, blending together with the echoes of the night as he leaned in, reaching for you — his lips hovered just a few inches from yours as if he was checking if you would regret and move away. However, when you didn’t, he kissed you, his lips touching yours just for a second.

Heeseung pulled back, and the glittering carnival dazed both of you. Everything about the place invaded your senses for a quiet moment before he leaned in and kissed you again, this time with more feelings than thoughts. He slid a hand behind your neck, angling your head up and making your lips part for him.

Of course, you had been kissed before. However, never that way. Heeseung wanted to relish it, feeling you through each passing second of your connected lips. He did not want to let it go, memorizing you through each heartbeat as he just grazed his mouth against yours, catching his breath before he kissed you again and again.

You felt a laugh forming in the deep of your chest, but when it rolled out of your lips, preventing Heeseung from kissing you, he wasn’t annoyed at it. He just laughed back at you and you were so lost on him, and in the sound of it, that it took you a while to notice it was the very first time you were hearing him do such a thing.

“Can I drive you home?” he asked. “I promise I haven’t drank anything today.”

                                      ┈┈┈┈

The first time you had ever seen a BMW coupé had been during the summer of your first year in high school. Your father had thought it was a nice thing to take you and your mother to a car show, or perhaps he just wanted to go and pretended to genuinely think it was a nice plan. Anyway, you still remember how he followed the air around the car with the palm of his hands, the closed roof, and the fine lines of the only two doors of the gray BMW before turning to you.

“Should I buy it?” he had asked, making your mother grunt. It was a playboy’s car from her point of view, made for trouble and disorder.

And that was exactly Heeseung’s car.

The BMW M4 had been parked outside the carnival field, the street lamp sparkling through the black tint of the car. You manage to control your laugh for most of the way to your rented house, but when Heeseung stopped at a traffic light, the roar of the engine being the only audible thing through the night you couldn’t help but let it escape.

“What’s this?” Heeseung asked, slightly turning to look at you. The red light turned his hair copper, and maybe it had been because you are still high on sugar and him, maybe it had been because you had already shared too much with Heeseung, but you told him about that summer afternoon too.

“So you are telling me, your mother wouldn’t approve me?” he asked, a hint of tease in his tone. You doubted Heeseung worried about what your mother would think seeing him park the BMW in front of the house, yet still, your mind faltered.

“I-” you started.

But you were saved by a car coming beside the BMW. The sudden sound of tires squealing stormed through the once quiet street, but instead of pulling and staying still, the car kept shooting forward and falling back.

“What’s he doing?” you asked.

Heeseung didn’t reply to you, his hand had tensed above the gear stick, and he looked away, ahead to the road.

When the traffic lights turned green the other car blew by, a flash of white paint in the middle of the night.

“He wanted to incite a race,” Heeseung whispered. Your lips parted, not sure if it was for a genuine surprise or if your subconscious meant to say something, but Heeseung seemed unnerved and you let it slip and slide as he drove away.

                                      ┈┈┈┈

“Heeseung?” you called, in the same soft way, allowing it to echo through the interior of the BMW. He looked at you, just for a second taking in how your eyes were squinting as you looked through the lens at him before the analog camera flash came off.

“Do you know how to use it?”

“I hope so,” you said. “Imagine me using the whole film to find out I did it wrongly.”

Heeseung hummed at that, the sound coming so softly.

He had parked in front of your rented house for minutes now, but you didn’t attempt to leave and he didn’t attempt to make you do.

“Thank you for tonight, and the camera,” you said.

Heeseung could feel the way the night was ending without a single promise of tomorrow. A full period instead of a break, and he disliked the thought.

“I want to see you again,” he whispered.

“I want you to see me again too.”

A laugh escaped from his lips, unintentionally too happy as he reached for his phone on the console and handed it to you. You took it without a second thought, typing away your number and when you handed it back to him, you leaned in, catching his bottom lips with yours. It wasn’t the same kiss he had given you in the carnival, lips touching just for a bare second — it was longer yet just teasing, before Heeseung could hold you, you had gone. You had slipped out of his reach and his car, rushing through the garden of the house and the front porch.

Heeseung couldn’t help but laugh at your doing, tilting his head at the window, he looked up at the sky. At Hongcheon there were never enough streetlights to obliterate the stars completely, and for the first time in a long while, his breath came easily beneath all of this.

Heeseung had been a stranger on that first night of summer. He had been a confidante at the carnival. However, you had no idea who he was on the streets.

This part of Hongcheon was endlessly flat in comparison to the rest of the county. Meanwhile where you have been taking residence was built in the middle of emerald hills, this place was spread out over flat and dried fields.

You were aware it was somewhere at the outskirts of the county, so you weren’t surprised when the modest avenue ended on a highway. What surprised you was that instead of the normal traffic, a line of cars had been parked on the sides, their noses pointing at the middle of the highway, headlights illuminating what the streetlights couldn’t.

People circulated everywhere — around the cars, above the cars. Their cheers seemed to pierce through the closed windows.

For some long seconds, you thought Sunhae had indicated the wrong turn and Hayoung would make her way back through the road. But instead, she kept going, finding a place to park in the long line.

A few meters ahead two cars loomed, their speeds being nowhere near the legal limits as they passed by you and drifted a few meters ahead, tires squealing and leaving angry marks on the asphalt.

“What—” You started with an exasperated slowness. “Is this?”

“An illegal race?” Sunhae replied.

“And what are we doing here?”

Hayoung and Sunhae exchanged a knowing look above the gearshift, and no one needed to be a genius to know they were silently talking with each other.

“We came to watch?” Sunhae said. It had been an affirmation, but the way her voice raised at the end subtly turned the period into a question mark.

You felt your body turning cold. It wasn’t like you had prepared yourself to watch a street race when you had woken up that morning. It wasn’t like you had prepared yourself to participate in something illegal when you entered Hayoung’s car that night. She had messaged you telling you to be ready at nine and that was simply what you had done. Pretty dress, high heels, and pins on your hair.

As if she thought about the same thing, your cousin met your gaze through the rearview mirror.

“I can take you home,” she said.

“It’s alright,” you whispered, and although it carried all your uncertainty, it was enough to make them both leave after a single harsh breath, gathering in front of the car’s hood.

“Jungwon— he casually races,” Sunhae said as you joined them. It was so loud outside that she had to incline herself to speak to you. “Jake too, so you know—”

Hayoung slapped her arm to shut her up. However, you had already seen him, or rather his car — the black BMW spun through the highway, raising a trail of smoke before it lushly parked along the cars at what you judged to be the starting line.

Your breath shuddered out of you. The breeze subtly echoed beneath all the noises as Heeseung climbed out of the car and joined Jake and Jungwon in the small circle of racers.

There was something unfamiliar about him — something ferocious, noisy, and unsettled. This wasn’t the Heeseung you had met at the party, much less the Heeseung who had led you through the carnival with his hand curled on yours. This was the Heeseung who fit the BMW, the leather jacket, and the mischievous grin. This was a Heeseung you weren’t sure you knew who he was.

Heeseung had been smiling at everyone, but he faltered when he spotted you. He had this inconvenient feeling that he had stopped in time. His surroundings kept going, blistering in the loud engines and cheers, but he was stuck on how you were there, suddenly seeing this tainted part of him.

He doesn’t remember the decision of moving, he only knew he did, giving one step in your direction before Jake held his arm.

“Later,” he said, like a reminder. And Heeseung forced himself to retract, to place his bet along with the rest of the racers, forcing himself to hear about the course he knew all too well. He forced himself to walk to his BMW and turn the key.

He eased his foot off the clutch, pressing down on the gas he managed to hold the car in check. The engine was alive beneath him, the sound quelling his heartbeats as he reached for the gear stick. He closed his eyes at the familiarity of the moment, but as soon as the darkness welcomed him, you were there again — burning like sunlight.

He turned his focus back to the streets in time to see the light switching, the red turning into green and without any prelude, the car burst from the starting line. The street lights flickered and flared above him.

Heeseung knew this place well enough to not need to think before exchanging the gears, he just kept in mind he needed to come back faster than ever.

                                      ┈┈┈┈

“I will take the awkward exchange of looks as a confirmation that Heeseung didn’t tell you about all of this,” Hayoung said, taking your attention from the highway ahead. The racing cars had already disappeared into the distance, leaving only the idea of the memory behind.

“He didn’t,” you admitted. “It’s not something you can say to someone you don’t know, right?”

“Well, I agree,” she said. “But you are my cousin, he knows me, and he has stuck on you since the party, he should have—”

“It’s alright,” you replied.

You knew Hayoung wasn’t the type of person to give up easily on a discussion, so the moment she opened her mouth to say something more, you turned away, taking in the furor of the place. The cheers had eased, for a great part, but everything was so loud still with the sound of those car’s engines.

“How long does it take?” you asked.

“Not much, they just take the next return and come back here.”

It didn’t take long at all.

The familiar BMW was the first one to pass the finish line. However, Heeseung didn’t slow, he didn’t even look back as he won the race. His car only came to a full stop once he was in front of you — the driver’s door being hardly pushed as the headlights kept flickering through the night.

“Please, let’s talk,” he said, his gaze meeting you as if there were no one else in his eyes sight.

Hayoung reached for you, squeezing your arms as if she was attempting to give you assurance.

“It’s fine,” you said, meeting her gaze. “Sunhae is probably staying with Jungwon, are you alright with driving back alone?”

“Of course,” she replied. “I came thinking it was how my night was ending,”

“Just fasten your seatbelt, and hold on tight, I still don’t trust them on a wheel.”

When you turned back at Heeseung, he had already walked toward you, causing you to bump into him. His hands immediately found your waist, preventing you from tripping. But even as you stood completely still, he continued holding you, his fingers coming up and down through the bodice of your dress.

“Princess,” he said. It almost didn’t sound like a call, but a plea. A longing where it was supposed to have just the tease you were already used to.

“Alright, let’s talk.”

Heeseung guided you to his car, one of his hands sliding to the small of your back as he opened the passenger door for you, waiting for you to slip in before he closed it with a soft slam.

The drive was surprisingly quiet. Heeseung hadn’t spoken the whole way back, he just stayed there —  occasionally brushing his gaze towards you as if with a single moment he hadn’t checked on you, you would disappear without a trace. Only when you had reached the town did he speak, but it had been so soft it almost got lost in the breeze before you could even clasp them.

“Is it ok if I take you further into the hills?”

“Yes, of course.”

Heeseung drove into the hills, passing the entrance to your rented house without a second look and going further onto bendy roads that all of a sudden spread on an open field. The town shone beyond it all.

“A few years ago they were going to build a dozen houses like your rented one,” he said, stepping on the parking brake. “They prepared the field but for some reason, they gave up on it.”

“I come here with Jake and Jungwon a lot to — race.”

And that was it, the breaking word.

Heeseung slid his hands through the wheel, slowly bringing them into his lap before he decided to rest it above the gear stick.

“I am not used to telling people about it.”

“I can understand why, genuinely” you said. “So you don’t have to tell me anything that you aren’t comfortable with.”

“I wanted to,” he said. “At the party, I thought of asking if you wanted to go watch the race. At the carnival, I thought of telling you,”

“But you are so—” his gaze encountered you, taking in your whole being before he stopped, letting the words slip and slid away with a single hitch of breath. He couldn’t simply tell he thought you shone like a heart of gold. It was foolish, cringe even. So Heeseung stayed silent, turning back to the town and watching it spread beyond both of you, the interlocked pattern of colored lights.

It made a strange image of him, he seemed so grandiose mirroring all those lights that it somehow made him frail. And it suddenly occurred to you how Heeseung was good at only allowing people to see what he wanted them to. He wanted everyone to see him as confident, bright — ferocious during the races and you wondered what it meant that he allowed you to see through the fissures.

His shoulders tightened as if he suddenly was carrying some weight — whatever he was about to tell you, it was something he had been keeping for himself for years.

You reached for him, palm resting above the back of his hand on the gear stick.

“My parents studied their whole lives together,” Heeseung started, the words leaving his lips clumsy and strangely by the unused of being said. “They started dating during high school and my mother got pregnant not long after their graduation. But there was the thing — they are too young and my mother knew it.”

“Although she tried to endure it, someday she simply couldn’t anymore and left.”

You hadn’t noticed your grip above his hand had tightened until you felt Heeseung shifting beneath your touch, turning his palm to you and slowly interlacing your fingers.

“I am so sorry.”

“It’s alright, honestly,” he replied. “It’s not like I remember much of her — and I grew up well with my grandma and father.”

“A few years ago, my father got really sick — after his funeral, I took his car, it was such an old Toyota. I bet it was the first time it ever really raced,” he smiled, but there was an ache in it, a sadness that you could almost reach. He looked at you again, as defenseless he had ever been. “I found the street racing spot by accident. But they said I was good and I kept going.”

“First it was for freedom, but the money became a great necessity after a few months — my grandma couldn’t work, I had to give up on the university.”

“You did what you could,” you whispered. “It’s alright, Heeseung.”

The moment seemed to stretch, seconds feeling like minutes and when you lifted your interlaced hands to your lips, kissing the back of Heeseung’s hand, you didn’t know how long had passed.

“Do you want to race right now?”

“I do.”

“Take me somewhere?” you asked.

                                      ┈┈┈┈

When the BMW reached the town’s outskirts, Heeseung allowed the car to climb in speed, his hand curling familiarly around the gear stick. He never took his eyes off the road, and you saw on his face how much he loved it. The bright and long-acquainted happiness he had with the speed.

Your heart quelled every time Heeseung did a turn, and he reached out, letting go of the wheel and searching for you through the small inches in between.

“I am here,” he said. You pinch his fingers lightly because you knew — and it made the whole difference.

Heeseung only dropped down a few gears near the edges of the county, being caught on the invisible line separating the road from the beach.

You opened the window, allowing a gust of summer air to spread through the car as a laugh escaped from you, unhesitating and unselfconscious. The sky was impossibly clean tonight, making the sea an endless reflection of the stars.

You didn’t ask Heeseung to stop — you didn’t need to. The moment he looked at you, taking a glimpse of your sparkling eyes, and lips tugging with the echoes of your laughter, he just knew it was the right thing to do.

You leaped from the BMW before Heeseung had even turned the engine off, already barefoot and rushing through the white sand as his phone chimed at the console. His grandma probably, Jake or Jungwon, there was no one else, but the problem with having so few people in his life was that he had to pick up.

“Summer is indeed the best season,” Jake said at the other end of the line. “I got the money for you,”

“Do you have any idea how much you made tonight? I am blasted.”

“You said it last week when Daekho exposed how much he got,” Heeseung pointed out, a soft chuckle escaping from him.

“Trust me this time,” Jake said. “I am genuinely blasted. But talking about Daekho, he said he saw you a few nights ago, and you turned down a race — you never turn down a race.”

The sound of your laugh echoed through the night, causing Heeseung to raise his head to you and the view suddenly made him stop, phone still on his ear, mind in the middle of a phrase he would never say.

The moon was barely a quarter of what it could be, but it stood high and bright in the sky, bathing you as if you were something so precious that it decided to shine a little bit more just because of you.

You had walked into the sea, the water hitting your thighs, damping the hem of your dress. The camera he had won for you in the carnival was in your hands pointed at the satellite, and he wondered if you were taking it everywhere. It was something so simple, but it brought a warm sense inside of him.

As if you had felt his burning gaze over you, you turned to him, meeting his gaze through the windshield.

You were already painfully beautiful like this, but the moment you smiled at him — something stirred and moved inside of him.

“Hee?” Jake called by the other end of the line.

“It was on the night of the carnival, Y/N was with me,” he replied. “Jake, listen, I have to hang up, I will call you tomorrow.”

“Are you still with Y/N?”

“Yes.”

“Oh! Have fun, mate.”

Heeseung threw the phone back into the console, taking off his shoes, he followed you down the shore and into the sea, splashing farther into the water until his jeans were damped to his knees.

“Your jeans,” you gasped, but he only shook his head, he could care less about it.

“Are you carrying it everywhere?” he asked. He wasn’t looking at the camera, yet something incited that everything about his actions was about the small object now hanging by the security strip on your wrist.

“Yes.”

For a long and unsettled moment, Heeseung stared at you, his chest heaving with his deep breaths. He took one more step to reach you and suddenly, he was so close and the night so still. All you could feel was the calm rhythm of the sea beneath your feet, the soft hustle of his breath against your skin before a cold wind blew through, sweeping your hair out of the pins and to his cheeks, causing him to lift his hand, twisting the loosened lock between his fingertips before he brushed it behind your ear. It was a ridiculous thing to do. The wind kept blowing through and loosening it, but he didn’t mind doing it again and again. Until he decided to simply hold it, palm resting against your cheek as his fingers twined on your hair.

Heeseung called for you, and your skin tingled beneath the moonlight. No one ever said your name like he did — so slow and deliberate as if he wanted to taste the sound of each letter rolling through his tongue.

You couldn’t help but lean yourself into him, fingertips against his abdomen as you caught his bottom lip with yours. It wasn’t the first time you had given him this soft, teasing, and too-quick kiss. In fact, Heeseung already considered it something of yours, and he had scrutinized this so many times that his hand was fast on moving further into your hair, holding you still.

“I am not letting you slip away tonight,” he whispered.

“I would never,” you huffed. And Heeseung laughed at that, the sound blending with the summer breeze for a short moment before his lips slid over yours easily, perhaps too easily.

When he kissed you at the carnival, there was something of searching and discovering on it, but here — with his thumb caressing the sides of your neck, and your fingers slipping precisely to where his heart thrummed against his chest, it was all knowing. His tongue brushed against your lips, and you opened your mouth for him, letting him slide his tongue over yours. You could feel him groaning, his whole body reacting when you curled your fingers on his t-shirt.

You gasped for air, pulling away. But, Heeseung was still leaning in, eyes closed, lips parted as he followed you through the few inches you created.

“Princess,” he called. “I thought you were not slipping away.”

“Sorry,” you said. However, Heeseung just shook his head in reply, a mischievous grin spreading through his lips as he brought your face back to him, but instead of catching your lips again, he pestered you with quick kisses all over your face.

You laughed, not sure if it was because of his doings or the ticklish feeling of his lips smoothing your whole face. But even to your own ears, you sounded so happy — so happy beneath all of this.

As the night wore on, the temperature dropped and you shivered in the cold, immediately causing Heeseung to shrug his leather jacket off, draping around your shoulders and adjusting it the best way he could despite the difference of size.

It smelled like him. The strong scent of leather blended with car exhaustion, but also the sweet scent of peonies and the brisk breezes of summer nights.

“We should go back,” he said, looking up at the sky. The stars were already starting to low, weakly gleaming through his eyes. “It’s late anyway.”

                                      ┈┈┈┈

“The princess is back in her castle,” Heeseung said, making a chuckle escape from your lips.

However, instead of finding something to reply, you simply reached for your seatbelt, unfastening it a second before your hands curled at the sleeve of his jacket, starting to pull it away.

“It’s alright, give me back another day,” he said.

“Alright,” you whispered. “Thank you for driving me home again — I hope it isn’t out of the way for you.”

“I could lie and say you are worth the trouble just to sound like a nice guy,” Heeseung started, the corner of his lips tugging up. He was fighting a battle with a smile and almost losing it. “I live two streets down from here, a beige house with a brown roof and matching shutters.”

“It seems pretty much like most Hongcheon’s houses,” you replied, slightly leaning to his side of the car, and Heeseung reached for you promptly.

The porch lights were on, gently illuminating your face with little strips of gold. He traced each one of them with the tip of his fingers before he finally gave in and smiled. You were so beautiful, he could die all day and every night just to miss you.

“You are right, but there are remarkable things about it.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Heeseung echoed. “You will always hear a culinary program coming from the TV, it will be my grandma in the living room, and the place always smells like something just baked — it is also her.”

“Seems cozy.”

“Also the garden is full of white flowers — really easy to find,” he continued. “But in any case, the number is 215.”

Just like the whole town, Heeseung’s house was a remnant from the eighties — with its pale walls, brown roof, and matching shutters, it blended in with all the other houses on the street. But as Heeseung described, the house sat in the middle of a garden, the white flowers accompanying you through the whole path from the sidewalk to the front porch. 

The door opened at your first knock, quickly revealing an old lady. It wasn’t necessary to wonder about her — not only because you knew Heeseung lived with his grandmother, but because her appearance was uncannily like his. Although she carried some signs of age on her gray hair, the shiny doe-eyes peering through the curls were there, seeming to be a family thing.

“Good afternoon,” you started, a tentative smile tugging on your lips as you looked at her. “I am Y/N, Heeseung’s-”

“Heeseung!” His grandmother screamed, startling you. “Why there’s such a pretty girl asking for you at my front door?”

Heeseung appeared at the end of the corridor, eyebrows furrowed. He seemed as braced as anyone could be standing barefoot in washed jeans and a white tank top — until his eyes landed on you.

“Y/N,” he called, pronouncing your name with the same deliberate slowness he had on the previous night and making your skin tingle.

In your periphery, Heeseung’s grandmother drifted her gaze between both of you, taking in how Heeseung reached from across the corridor — with his expression smoothed, his eyes were allowed gleam beneath the sunlight and his lips to tug into a smile too genuine to be only politeness.

When he reached the door, she turned around, leaning to his side as if she was about to whisper a great secret to her grandson, but instead, her words were spoken loud enough for both of you to hear.

“Invite her inside,” she said, walking away and leaving both of you a little bit astonished.

“I just came to bring your jacket, I don’t want to bother you.”

“You would never,” he answered. His fingers curled around the door handle, opening it a little wider as he completely ignored how you had extended the jacket at him. But although his actions seemed confident, he slightly inclined his head, shaking it as if to fix his bangs, but you had already seen it enough to know, he was embarrassed.

You brought the jacket back to your chest, hugging it as you stepped inside. Immediately, the comfortable smell of chocolate surrounded the air. Heeseung wasn’t lying when he told you about the never stopping oven, just like he wasn’t lying about the culinary program always on the selected channel of the television. But you wished he had told you about everything else too, so at least, you wouldn’t be so surprised right now.

You had grown up with a meticulous amount of order. The houses you lived in were always spacious, squeaked clean, minimalist even, so you didn’t know how to react as soon as you caught sight of the inside.

It was tiny, even if taken in comparison to the row houses on the outskirts of the county, and was made even smaller with the amount of plants scattered through the corners.

Afternoon sunlight spilled from the back windows of the kitchen, batching everything until it reached the entrance corridor. You couldn’t tell if the warmth came solely from the sun or if it had something to do with the beige walls, the mismatched colorful furniture, and the small chaos only houses built with love are capable of possessing.

Everything felt so cozy and summer-made that you couldn’t imagine a better place to spend the season in.

“Princess,” he called, and you hummed, turning to look at him. However, Heeseung was already bending on a knee, fingers fumbling through the straps of your high heels and removing them, one at a time.

“Now you are ready to go.”

“Thank you.”

Heeseung stood up, bottling out the sunlight with his real height, casting you in the shadow. And if it wasn’t enough to make you coil, the way he reached for you, hands cupping the sides of your neck was.

“You are good at reading between the lines,” he said.

“Am I? Or had you been just insistent?” you asked, making a chuckle escape from Heeseung. It was a soft, almost not there thing, but you could feel it rushing through your cheeks, the hustle of his breaths warming your skin.

Heeseung leaned in, catching your lips with his. It wasn’t his intention to make it fast, but the moment his grip tightened on your skin trying to bring you closer to him, his grandma screamed again, demanding both of you to come to the kitchen.

                                      ┈┈┈┈

The kitchen felt fuller than ever — not that it was a difficult thing, just like the whole house, it was tiny, scarcely giving enough space to three people to walk through, but there was something about having you there that made it full in a different way.

You were polite enough to ask if his grandmother needed help, and his grandmother was amusing enough to allow you, leaving Heeseung to watch from the kitchen table as you learned how to prepare a chocolate tart with an unreasoning smile.

“When Heeseung was younger, chocolate tarts with strawberries were his favorite,” his grandmother told you. “He always asked how would he leave me if I am the only one who knows how to prepare it in the way he likes,”

“But now that I am teaching you, he may leave me and go with you.” she finished, causing Heeseung to choke on the air. However, you only laughed at it, head thrown back. The sun had started to set by that time, sprinkling through the windows in tones of orange and pink, but when it reached you — it was all gold.

He knew his grandmother had said something else, but it sounded a world apart from where he stood. You had looked at him, your laughter had turned into a soft smile and it suddenly made him comprehend why the kitchen felt fuller than ever.

You not only materially filled the place, but you also filled it with warmth and light.

“Hee?” his grandmother called. He hadn’t been paying attention to the conversation for some time now and before he could state it, the house phone rang, saving him from another embarrassment.

He stood up, walking out of the kitchen as you both were just making sense of the phone ringing.

“You and Y/N have mobile phones, you know it, right?” Jungwon asked at the other end of the line.

“What?”

“Y/N was supposed to meet Sunhae and Hayoung in the drive-in cinema, she hasn’t shown up and is not picking up the phone.”

“And how did you figure she is with me?” Heeseung asked, his eyebrows involuntarily furrowing in confusion.

“You didn’t pick up when I called too,” Jungwon sighed. “Just tell her that the girls are waiting inside.”

Jungwon hung up so softly, it took another second for Heeseung to notice he did and another one to let go of it.

“I didn’t realize the time,” you explained, as soon as he was back.

“I can drive you there,” Heeseung said.

“Do you need to leave?” his grandmother asked. “Already?”

“I am supposed to meet my cousin and her friend.”

“It is a shame that it was so fast, but it was lovely to meet you,” his grandmother said, taking your hands in hers. “Please — please, come back.”

Although the moment seemed to be crafted in the warmth of the summer sunset, there was something frantic about the way she was holding you. Heeseung’s grandmother squeezed your hands almost as if she didn’t want you to walk away from her house — almost as if she was afraid you were taking something important together with you. And it took you anew.

You looked at Heeseung in search of answers, but he just returned your gaze as confused as you.

“She surely will, grandma,” Heeseung said, a gentle smile playing at the corners of his lips. However, it only made her squeeze tighten on you, just for a brief second before she let you go.

                                      ┈┈┈┈

By the time Heeseung parked the BMW on the outskirts of the drive-in cinema, the movie had already started, Rachel McAdams dancing beneath the street lights with Ryan Gosling on the big screen. And even though you knew you were late, you stayed still, watching as the scene unfolded.

People had different favorite scenes of The Notebook, the kiss in the rain, perhaps the beach when they said the famous If you are a bird, I am a bird. However, for you, it always had been this one — the real beginning of everything.

Heeseung looked at you, but he didn’t say anything about you being late, and how your cousin was annoyed somewhere inside, if anything he reached for the space behind his seat, taking the same leather jacket you had left in one of his kitchen chairs a few hours previous, and put it on your lap.

“The temperature always drops during the night,” he explained.

“I just gave it back to you.”

“Give it back to me another day.”

You looked up at him, and he smiled. The words had left his lips effectively, even with a note of tease on it, but still carrying a real meaning, Heeseung wanted to see you again tomorrow. And because you wanted to see him again too, you nodded, slipping the jacket through your shoulders.

“Alright,” you agreed.

“Alright?” he echoed, leaning across the gearshift. Heeseung reached for you, his lips finding yours at the same time his fingertips pressed to the side of your neck. You tasted like chocolate and strawberries that night, the sweet delation you had been stealing the ingredients while preparing the tart, and he couldn’t help but smile.

If the whole afternoon hadn’t been homey enough, this — this kiss had been.

“I should go,” you whispered, drawing back, yet you were so close to him still, each word had been a brush against his lips.

“I know,” he replied, with a small sigh. Heeseung was reluctant to pull himself away, but he did, letting you slip from the BMW and walk into the cinema.

You tightened his jacket around your body, tugging the collar up to your mouth. His scent was already starting to fade in, giving space to yours, only when you snuggled your nose on, you could feel the odd combination that Heeseung was. All mischief and sweet, all substantial and soft.

A nearby car left the windows open, the radio connected to the big screens loud and allowing you to hear the exact moment Gena Rowlands asked James Garner:

“Did they fall in love?”

“Yes, they did,” he replied.

Saturday’s nights smelled like car exhaustion and burnt tires, like the leather of Heeseung’s jacket and his peony perfume when he brought you closer to him, lips against yours, fingers threading on your hair. Saturday’s nights were the break of the perfect serenity of Hongcheon, the whispers of the emerald hills turning into the loud sound of the racing cars beneath the street lights.

Heeseung had never missed a race, leaving you behind with Sunhae, Hayoung, and a kiss.

“Be my lucky charm once more, alright?” he always whispered, an amusing smile playing on his lips before you both broke into a laugh.

However, tonight he parked his BMW on the sides of the highway, joining the long line of watchers instead of racers. Heeseung didn’t say anything as he slipped through his door, leaving you to sit still, watching him walking to your side of the car in confusion — on any other night he would open the door for you, intertwine your finger, and take you to where Hayoung and Sunhae waited. But with all the unknown turns, he took you to the front of his car.

He sat on the hood, and it was necessary just an exchange of gazes for him to bring you to his lap. His arms came around your waist, coaxing you to come closer enough to feel his breaths rushing through your skin.

“Are you alright?” you asked. “You always race.”

“Jake and Jungwon had made a bet among themselves, they said I couldn’t join because I win way too much,” he said, leaning on you, his forehead meeting your temple. “Apparently, since I got my lucky charm, I am not letting them have the first place.”

You knew it was just a lie — a tease, Heeseung was one of the favorites before you had even stepped on Hongcheon, but you let him, brushing his nose down to your neck and tickling you with his breath.

A few meters behind, in the middle of the highway, the racers were already in their places, the engines roaring as they held the cars in check. Jungwon had his hand out, pointing at Jake through the opened windows as if to remind him of their secondary bet. If you focused enough, you could almost hear them laughing beneath the furor of the place.

“Did you meet them here?” you asked. “Jake and Jungwon?”

“No, we met at the university,” Heeseung said. “When I dropped out, I think they thought I was slipping away, so they started coming back during weekends to visit, and when I told them about the racing they decided to join,”

“Something for us three to do still.”

“They are good friends.”

“They are,” he agreed. His tone was calm, with the same warmth you were used to, but you could pinch the small longing it carried. Everything Heeseung had given away after his father’s death weighed on him still. You reached for him, fingers spreading beneath the collar of his jacket and t-shirt, finding his bare skin. He shivered at your touch, snuggling his nose a little deeper into you.

“I am very lucky,” Heeseung whispered. “About everyone I have in my life.”

“They are lucky to have you too.”

“Do you think so?”

“I am sure so,” you said, and you didn’t need to look at him to know he was smiling at it.

                                      ┈┈┈┈

Through the weeks you had watched the races, you had never seen Jake win, and perhaps that’s why his reaction had been so amusing to you.

His Camaro squealed through the asphalt, passing the finish line with a lush drift before he came to where you stood together with Heeseung, hurling his window open.

“Let’s go,” he shouted.

“Where?” Heeseung asked.

“Beneath a bridge? The bar? I don’t care!” Jake exclaimed, quickly stealing a laugh from you. “I won and Jungwon is paying for everything tonight!”

The Camaro wailed with no previous warning, disappearing through the highway in a flash and leaving no further choice aside from following him.

The bar made a home on the outskirts of Hongcheon, coming so close to the coast that even at night, you could see how sunlight and bracing breezes had worked on this part of the province.

It held no signs, no shining lights, the facade had nothing but a worn-out red tint and a black door. It simply was called the bar because —

“What else do you call a bar without a name?” Heeseung asked, opening the door for you.

You knew it had to have a name, but instead of debating you allowed it to slip away with a single shake of your head before you stepped past him.

The interior was darker, blasting in some electronic music, and although there were just a few tables, this late at night people were already too high to prefer to sit still instead of being on the dance floor, leaving a bunch of options for you.

Hayoung sprawled herself on the nearest chair, immediately being followed by Sunhae and Jake.

“I am getting the drinks,” Jungwon announced. “Is everyone getting beer?”

“A coke,” Heeseung said. It didn’t require explanations, but he did anyway, shouting above the loud music. “I have to drive Y/N home.”

“OK, lover boy,” Jake laughed. “Why don’t you help Jungwon get everything?”

With his ears tingling, Heeseung was too embarrassed by the nickname and the situation to oppose, so he just turned around, following Jungwon through the furor of the place.

Jake waited until both of them were far, and completely out of sight before he stood up, just to claim the chair by your side.

“You bewitched him,” he said. “Have been ages since I last saw him like this.”

“Like this?” you echoed.

“I have known Heeseung for four years and something now, so I can tell after his father’s death, smiling and chuckling around — it simply wasn’t him,”

“Also not drinking because he has to drive?” Jake laughed, this time so loudly, you could swear it somehow echoed through the place. “He never once cared about it and by never I mean even before his father,”

“Believe me, Y/N, whatever spell you put on the man — you saved him.”

You blinked at Jake, not knowing what to say. And before you could think about it, Sunhae’s hand met yours from beneath the table, taking your attention.

“I love this song,” she said, dragging you through the crowd and into the dance floor. Everything happened so fast, a lost breath between what Jake had said, Sunhae’s hands clasped on yours, and Hayoung’s laugh because for once she wasn’t the one being forced to the dance.

Sunhae encouraged you too. However, your eyes kept traveling to the table, waiting for Heeseung to come back, to notice your absence and search for you.

You looked at each for seconds too long, his eyes lingering, hands caught in the middle of scattering the drinks through the table.

It was stupid honestly, how whenever he thought he was used to your beauty, you managed to surprise him, standing in a new light and taking him anew. You were bathed in the shine of the red and purple flashing from the fairy lights, eyes sparkling, lips a little bit parted with rescue words ready to slip through. However, you didn’t need to pronounce any of those. Heeseung was already walking towards you, acting as if there was no one else in his eyesight.

He only stopped behind you, hands finding your hips — bringing you close to his chest, aligning your bodies in all the right places. It wasn’t the rescue you were expecting, but you forgot about it the moment his laugh echoed through your body.

It’s not that you doubted Jake, but you couldn’t imagine a Heeseung that didn’t laugh like this. The sound was so perfect that it hurt you to imagine a period in which it never existed.

Heeseung seemed created for this joyful and unconditional happiness.

As he leaned on you, you could feel the ghost of his smile on your skin — his breath brushing through your shoulders before he found the base of your neck with a kiss. You tilted your head back, and Heeseung took the opportunity to trail you with kisses, reaching your earlobe with an exasperated slowness before he pinched the sensitive skin.

“Hey, princess.”

You turned around, pressing your fingertips against his chest. In the middle of the furor of the place, you still could feel the cadence of his heart, the way it hammered against your touch.

“What-” he started, but the rest of his question was cut off — taken by your lips on his. He gasped at your sudden action, yet it was muffed when your tongue slid against his. You were demanding in a way he couldn’t remember you ever being. Your fingers curled on his t-shirt, pulling him closer, and he allowed himself to grip your waist. Your dress was so thin, he could feel your skin beneath it, all warm and his as he ended the small inch you failed to.

He kissed you deeper, a little messier, and a small whine escaped from you.

“Go get a room in the name of lord,” someone screamed, so close it hadn’t left any doubt it was for you and Heeseung.

You both parted, lips swollen from kissing, sucking, and causing you to bury your face in his chest, but Heeseung only laughed — the same joyful and happy sound echoing through your body before he reached for the top of your head, tangling his fingers on your hair as he gave a soft pat.

“I think we can call it a night.”

                                      ┈┈┈┈

It was later than usual when you arrived at the rented house that night, far later than when your parents used to recoil to their room. But when you stepped inside, the lights of the back porch were still on, a faint echo of a conversation coming through the opened door — not only with the two known voices of your parents but with a third one.

“Grandma,” you smiled.

If you weren’t so happy, you would have stopped for a few seconds, taking note of Heeseung’s jacket still hanging on your shoulders and your still a bit swollen lips. You would have taken a moment to compose yourself. But you only rushed through the house, and the back porch, hugging the old lady.

“When did you arrive?” you asked.

“I am pretty sure the sun was still shining, but someone seems really busy this summer to care about answering her phone.”

“Sunghoon has been complaining about it,” your mother added. “Send him a message once in a while — the boy has been wondering about you.”

“I am sorry,” you said, more directed to what your grandmother said than to your mother.

“So please, enlight me,” your grandmother asked, hands traveling through the collar of Heeseung’s jacket, preventing it from slipping away before she pinched your cheeks. “Your parents were telling me, were you with Hayoung or the mysterious guy in the black BMW?”

You gasped, embarrassed and surprised Heeseung had been the topic of their conversation.

“This same car has dropped you here a lot through the last month,” your father pointed. “We were just wondering if we ever going to meet—”

“His name is Heeseung,” you said. “Lee Heeseung.”

“Right, why don’t you invite this Heeseung to lunch on Monday? Some of my friends are coming here.”

The house on the hill had been a dream for any Hongcheon resident. It used to be just an old and abandoned three-story construction until some businessman decided to buy it and renew it to make a summer rented house — then, it became too grandiose for the modest town. All made with white bricks and having Greek columns supporting the roof, it could be called a manor instead. And ever since the first moment, Heeseung wasn’t amused that your family was the one renting the place for the summer.

It fitted you, the class, the grandiose, the evergreen garden that bloomed flowers throughout the whole year. You were made to this, and he would be lying if he ever said it never scared him — he would be lying if he ever said it wasn’t scaring him now.

The driveway was full beneath the summer sun, your father’s black suburban leading a line of parked convertibles and worth-it sedans. Heeseung was glad that at least his BMW fit in the whole scenery because he wasn’t so sure of himself.

As he walked through the driveway, he noticed the front door hung open for anyone to come inside, but there was something about the idea of not having the small break between the knock and the door swinging open that made him anxious, tugging on the sleeves of his dark suit with frantic hands.

He stood there, unsure of what to do, but you came to him, rushing through the living room, white dress swirling dangerously around your thighs before you hugged him.

“You came,” you whispered, words threading through his hair.

Maybe it had been the summer heat, maybe it had been the sweetness of your perfume, and the way you had turned the full force of your joy into his direction. But instead of replying, he just stood still, lost in the sense of you.

Only when you stepped back, he reminded himself. You took sight of him, and your eyes flicked beneath the afternoon sun. You never have seen Heeseung wearing anything that wasn’t a combination of his jeans, shirts, and leather jacket, so the full view of him in a suit and a tie astonished you.

“Is it too much?” he whispered.

It was, it really was, but you were so happy he was there — so happy he cared that you let it all pass with a single shake of the head.

“They settled the lunch in the back garden,” you said. “I am just afraid you will get a heat stroke.”

Heeseung exhaled, a bit too harshly as he slightly inclined his head. But he didn’t need to finish his small rite, shaking his head and pretending to fix his bangs like he always did, you already knew he was embarrassed. So you didn’t say anything as you interrupted him, taking his hands in yours, and guiding him further into the living room. You didn’t say anything as you reached for his shoulders, rushing your hands beneath the heavy suit and removing it.

Heeseung was well aware the piece was cheap, probably the cheapest suit you have ever touched, but still, you folded it with so much care before you placed it over a nearby couch — with so much care, he couldn’t come into peace about what he was supposed to do with himself.

“Princess,” he called, not because he had something to say, but because he thought if he didn’t make something factual, he would fade between a touch and another.

The memories of Saturday were still too vivid and too triggering late at night, and to add something else seemed too much.

You hummed in reply, reaching for his tie, fingers curling on the dark material before you tugged him to your height. When he bent in, your breath brushed through his cheeks, warm, and teasingly.

However, despite the confidence of your actions, your cheeks were rosier than before, an adorable denounce you were a little bit embarrassed too, and that was it — you had broken the spell. Heeseung laughed at you, the pleasant sound echoing through the whole room at the same time the invisible weight he carried on his shoulders was lifted.

“You don’t need to worry about anything, you know?” you whispered. “I am here.”

“I know you are,” he whispered back, spreading his palms on your waist, fingers accidentally tangling on the laces of your dress as he brought you closer.

His nose brushed against yours, and your lips parted, just enough to taste the sweetness of the tea on his breath. Chamomile and honey, his grandmother’s favorite combination to calm any nerves down.

“Now, this is what I call a worth-it movie scene,” your grandma interrupted, making Heeseung step back. “Is this the infamous Lee Heeseung?”

“Yes, grandma,” you said, hurriedly. “This is Heeseung, my-”

You stopped, all at once, mind still stuck on him, and that one never once confirmed word. And perhaps you had been there for so long that your grandmother laughed out loudly, being followed by a more shy and reserved Heeseung.

“Don’t worry about explaining it to me, darling,” she said. “It might be hard to imagine, but I have been this age before.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Heeseung,” she continued.

“Pleasured to meet you too,” Heeseung replied, extending his hand at your grandmother. But she ignored it, preferring to instead, take him in a long and tight hug.

“Now hurry to the back garden! Her parents are asking about you already!”

                                      ┈┈┈┈

“I have a feeling your grandmother would love to meet my grandmother,” Heeseung whispered against your ear. And you laughed at that, soft and genuinely — allowing the sound to blend with the furor of the back garden.

Everything was happening there already. The air was smokey with the marinated meat left on the grill, encircled with the flowers growing on the bushes. Children laughed as they ran through the greenish grass, and adults scattered themselves on the long table, talking above their crystal cups with an enthusiasm that only came from too much happiness, too much alcohol, or both.

And as you took the last steps to the garden, your father approached, a glass of his favorite champagne already hanging in his left hand, as he held your mother’s with the other. He kept his hair slicked back, proudly showing the significantly graying hair at the sides, meanwhile, your mother kept simple but still too lined up. And even if Heeseung hadn’t asked about it, their attire gave away their successful work in business, suddenly making Heeseung more comfortable in his own attire. You had finished removing his tie and rolled his sleeves up, but he was still way too formal for his daily basics.

“It’s great to finally meet you,” your father said, extending his hand at Heeseung. “Y/N has been safekeeping you the whole summer.”

You weren’t sure if your father had said it intending to be funny or to call both of you out, but if anything Heeseung took your father’s hand, shaking it with the best smile he could.

“It’s great to meet you too sir.”

“Please, no sir — we are all family here,” your father said, and your mother smiled, extending her own hand to Heeseung.

“Y/N can guide you through, but feel free here, Heeseung,” your mother said.

A phone chimes in the middle of the conversation, and you immediately recognized it as your dad’s.

“Excuse me,” he asked, taking the device out of his pants back pocket.

“Sunghoon!” your father greeted.

Heeseung could notice your switch of emotions, the way you stiffened as your smile disappeared with a hitch of breath.

“Oh? Perhaps I overestimated the driveway?”

Another pause.

“Do you see a gate on the right side? I am going to open it up to you, park at the side — no, don’t worry.”

Your parents walked away and Heeseung reached for your hand, pinching you gently, but because he was too respectful he didn’t question the reason behind your reaction. Not even when a brown Range Rover came into view, and Sunghoon left the car like a gush of winter wind, greeting your parents and giving a fine bottle of wine like the old acquaintance he was. Not even when Sunghoon approached you, lips curling on a fond smile, eyes gleaming, not being able to hide the irrational happiness of simply seeing you.

You slipped from Heeseung’s touch, allowing Sunghoon to hug you, and when his arms involved your waist, bringing you tantalizing closer as his lips chased for your temple, something settled inside of Heeseung. Strong enough to make him dizzy, great enough to ache.

He had never considered himself a jealous person, but perhaps he simply never cared about something enough.

Sunghoon not only had the type of face girls in this county would make lines for, but he knew how to wear his money well. His car was impressive, a Range Rover velar with a customized mental brown tint that matched the tone of his silk button-down, and he made a strange image near you, almost too fitting. Almost too perfect.

“Hee, this is Park Sunghoon, son of my father’s business partner,” you said, drawing back. “Also my classmate at University and friend.”

“Lee Heeseung,” Heeseung said, his voice sounding pleasant enough as he extended his right hand at Sunghoon. However, he had stepped past you, pulling himself between you and Sunghoon and making it clear his true feelings.

Your palm met the back of his shoulders almost unconsciously, spreading your fingers and feeling the warmth of the sun beneath the cotton of his dress shirt.

Sunghoon straightened himself to his full height, but took Heeseung’s hand anyway, shaking it for a brief moment before he turned back to you.

“I have been calling,” Sunghoon said.

“I am sorry, I haven’t been much on the phone lately.”

“I know, your mother told me — what reminds me, I have something for you,” he said. “Please, wait a moment.”

“I-” you started, but Sunghoon was already walking back to his car, opening the door and reaching for something on the passenger seat. You barely had looked at Heeseung, noticing his clenched jaw before Sunghoon was back.

“I heard you have been obsessed with a disposable camera,” he said. “So I bought this while I was in Japan last week, I think something higher quality would be better.”

Sunghoon extended the box to you, and immediately, a gasp escaped from you. The box was completely black, except for the Fujifilm logo and the camera’s name, both of them shining in metallic beneath the afternoon sun. You never had searched much about cameras to be an expert, but you knew enough to comprehend, it was outstanding.

It easily outmatched the camera Heeseung had gotten you on the night of the carnival, and even so — even so, you still preferred Heeseung’s. You liked the analog camera — you liked the retro feeling it had. You liked how your grandma had laughed when you first appeared with it, telling you it looked so old, but this small sudden thought made you realize the reason you kept it safe with you wasn’t because of the item itself, but because of the memories you kept collecting with Heeseung throughout the month.

“Sunghoon, it’s really nice, and I appreciate the thought, but I can’t accept it.”

“Why?” he asked, frowning. Eyebrows brought together, the smile he carried just a second gone, everything on his face giving away he was faltering inside.

Sunghoon had always been unable to hide his emotions, ever since you knew him. Everything was always there, just a sight away.

“I-” you started, tongue almost rolling into the lie that it was too expensive, but what was a few billion won for him? What was a few billion won for your family? He was going to laugh as soon as you finished the phrase.

“I am already content with the camera Heeseung gave me.”

And that was it, you had broken both of them with a single phrase. Heeseung eased beneath your touch at the same time Sunghoon’s lips parted in an exclamation.

There was a small fraction of a second that you thought, Sunghoon was about to say something as he looked between you and Heeseung, but he let it all go, turning to the long table settled in the middle of the garden, and listening to your grandma summoning everyone to eat.

“I am going first,” he said. “I haven’t greeted your grandma and my parents.”

As Sunghoon walked away, Heeseung reached for you, fingers intertwining just to bring you close to his chest.

“You didn’t need to protect the camera so fiercely.”

“It wasn’t the camera,” you said, and he smiled down at you because he knew.

                                      ┈┈┈┈

At the table, everything seemed even more chaotic. Near the extremity, Sunghoon’s father was telling a terrible joke. You smiled, just politely, tightening your grip on Heeseung’s hand as you guided him farther. In the middle, people talked loudly about politics as if it was the most pleasant topic for a summer afternoon. Your head spun just by hearing the names.

You ended up sitting at the other extremity, across from one of your mother’s oldest friends, Mrs. Choi. She smiled easily and talked about her life even more easily. Everything there was to know about her, you have listened at least once, or perhaps twice, not that you consider her a bother. She was someone easy to be with, so when she turned her head at you and smiled, all you could do was smile back.

“Y/N!” she exclaimed. “Exactly the woman I was looking for.”

“Is that so?”

“My niece got into Seoul National University too, she is starting in autumn,” she said. “She is considering moving to the dorms, do you still live there?”

“Oh, no,” you replied. “The dorms are great, but I couldn’t adapt very well to the community kitchen and decided to move to a studio nearby.”

“Is it that bad?”

“No, I just dislike cooking with strangers passing by.”

Mrs. Choi laughed at it for a blissful moment before she turned to Heeseung.

“And you?” she asked. “Do you study with her in Seoul too?”

“No,” you promptly said. “Heeseung — he stays nearby.”

“Oh, and what are you going to do once the summer ends?” she asked. “You two are together, right?”

The question was crafted in mere curiosity, but all at once, you faltered as if you had been verbatim attacked. Your hands fell on the table, fingers too weak to do anything aside from staying there.

Heeseung knocked his knee against yours, a reassuring gesture that he was still with you.

“Seoul is just a couple of hours away,” he said. “Whenever she wants me to — if she wants me to, I would drive anywhere just to see her,”

“There’s no one else in this world like her.”

He spoke it easily behind a glass of iced tea, almost unwittingly, but the words ached within you so wonderfully simple and warm. You wished you could hold them in your palms, keep them between your fingers, just so you could press and feel them whenever you were faltering.

                                      ┈┈┈┈

Aside from Mrs. Choi telling for what you suspected to be the third time about her month-worth trip through Europe. Nothing happened between the main course and the dessert.

Heeseung’s hand had found comfort on your knee, the soft pressure of his thumb drawing tiny circles through your skin as the end of the afternoon approached, the sun lowering into the chain of hills, the sky turning into a vivid orange that only summer sunsets managed to. But only when Mrs. Choi excused herself, saying she wanted to catch the first stars, you allowed yourself to put your hand above Heeseung’s, leaning closer, your cheeks almost touching his so you could whisper.

He didn’t think it would make any difference at all. There were so many things happening still that no one would notice if you screamed at him, but he liked how your perfume was everything he could breathe, all sweet and flowery. He liked how you spoke so closely, almost giving him a taste of the strawberry cocktail you had tried.

“Take me somewhere?” you asked.

Heeseung looked at you. He intended to ask if it would be alright to simply leave like this. However, when your gazes encountered, remnants of sunlight reflected through your eyes, glistening the color with a goldish light that made you feel like part of the sky rather than a material thing and everything he could do was nod, using your already connected hands to pull you up and away, until you had reached his BMW.

He drove you further into the hills with the windows down, and the headlights only illuminating as far as the next turn. He reached for the same open field he had taken you on the night of the first race, but instead of stopping, he kept going, away and away — until you were so far from the town that all you could hear were the soft whispers of the night when he turned the engine off.

It wasn’t quiet, but silent. Something you never had experienced while living in the city.

“Look to the sky,” he asked. And you did, looking up through the window. 

At Hongcheon there were never enough streetlights to obliterate the stars completely, you could always get a glimpse of them, but there, so up through the hills, the stars were so bright they almost formed a river, a stream of light against the dark.

“It’s beautiful,” you whispered.

“It really is.”

You turned to look at Heeseung, but he had his gaze already fixed on you, his eyes gleaming, lips curling on a fond smile. He had no embarrassment in letting you know he had been like this for the whole while. And when you reached for him on the gear stick, spreading your palm through the back of his hand, Heeseung promptly moved beneath your touch, turning his palm into yours and intertwining your fingers.

“What are you thinking?” you asked.

Heeseung didn’t reply — not right away, he allowed the question to hang within the seconds, blending with the summer breeze as his gaze lingered on your face a little too long to be incidental before wandering through the sky.

“The day we met, I was racing with Jake,” he said. “I remember looking down on Hongcheon and thinking about how summer was starting,”

“I just had this feeling that something was coming —  something great.”

“Was it?” you asked. “Great?”

“Wonderful,” he whispered.

You leaned across the gearshift. And Heeseung let go of your intertwined hands to cup your face, his fingers preferring to thread through your hair instead, bringing you closer so his lips could graze yours, a new kind of kiss, parted lips that were barely there. 

It was slow in a way you couldn’t remember it ever being — it was lazier in a way that only came with the acknowledgment of something none of you were going to name yet but knew was there.

Heeseung slid his seat all the way back, subtly pulling you to him. The BMW didn’t have the back seats, and it didn’t give much space. But you moved anyway, your knees straddling his hips, your palms pressed to his chest, the soft rhythm of his heartbeats against your touch.

His heart skipped a beat when you slid your hands down on his torso, feeling the warmth the sun had left on his skin before you curled two fingers on the first button of his dress shirt. But if anything, Heeseung just nodded at you.

You were aware he was watching you, burning you with affection and fondness as he accompanied every move you did to open button after button. Your fingers splayed over the just exposed skin of his chest, brushing through his whole extension until you reached to his neck, threading your fingers in the hair at his nape, and angling him to you. Heeseung shivered beneath your touch, a small growl escaping his lips.

“You are my downfall, but as well my saving, princess,” he whispered. “I hope you know it.”

You caught his bottom lip on yours, once, twice, enough times to feel brave enough to brush your tongue against it, but Heeseung was already on it, sliding his tongue against yours. He kissed you deeper, messier — needier. And if it wasn’t enough to make you whine, when he shifted beneath you, pressing the solid length of himself against you was.

Heeseung cursed when you grind against him, sliding his hands up to your thighs. He never had relished your sundresses as much as he did now, passing the hem of it with no ado, and pinching his fingers on your bare waist. He held you still, lips leaving yours just to find your neck, trailing down to your shoulders with an open mouth and making you shiver despite the heat wrapped around the car.

“If you keep going one more minute — I am gone,” he murmured.

“Hee, please.”

“Please what, princess?”

“Make love to me.” He chuckled at the way you had said it, all whine, soft and pure.

He pinched you again, just to make sure you were looking at him, but you were — you always had been, cheeks flushed, and eyes a bit too bright, almost making him forget what he was supposed to say.

“Are you sure?” he asked. “I need you to be sure.”

“I am.”

You could hear him swallowing beneath the silence of the night, reaching up on you — brushing his hands through your ribcage, drawing your dress up to your shoulder, and allowing it to fall somewhere over the console.

He barely gave it a moment before his fingertips ran for the clasps of your laced bra, opening it.

“I didn’t think our first time would be in the front seat of my car, but how can I say no to you?” he said, leaning on you. His forehead landed on your collarbone with a gentle thud, drawing the tip of his nose along the swell of your breasts as his hands found your hips, burying his fingers on your skin. “You are so pretty.”

“Did you think about it?” you asked.

He had heard your question, and understood it, but he also had heard the way your breath hitched in surprise because you never thought you had this effect on him, and instead of replying, he pulled one of your nipples into his mouth, sucking it to a solid point and making your back arch. The act alone was so pleasurable, a desperate sound escaped through your lips before you couldn’t even notice it.

Desire swirled through his eyes and he brought you close to him, rolling his hard length against your center as he moved to the other nipple, his tongue drawing a faint line into your chest.

Heeseung only drew back to savor your reactions, the way your eyes closed, your mouth parted as the most pretty sounds continued to escape through.

“Hee,” you whimpered. You have never heard your voice so desperate like this. You have never felt so desperate. And that was exactly what broke him, the way you called for him so softly and whimpered, so full of wish. He could give you anything even if you never asked.

You reached for his low abdomen, feeling his muscles tense and contract as you fumbled through the waist of his pants, but before you could do anything, Heeseung stopped you — his fingers curling around your wrists.

“I am here,” he said. “I promise I won’t tease you anymore, so let me take care of everything.”

The rest of the clothes were taken off laboriously, Heeseung sliding your panties through your ankles and allowing them to join the rest of your attire before he reached for the button of his pants, getting a little shuffling underneath you as he pushed it down to his tights together with his boxers.

He took himself in his hand, hard, long, and already pushing into you. His breath hitched at the feel of you, whispering your name, pronouncing it with the same deliberate slowness he always had and you couldn’t help but moan at the whole feel of him, fingers curling on his shoulders, head a bit thrown back.

There were silver stripes painted across your skin, the moon appearing behind the trees, invading through his opened window. And you were so pretty like this — so pretty, Heeseung had no second thoughts before meandering his arm around your waist, bringing you close to his chest as he pulled out to the tip and back into you.

It was slow at first, all about him discovering the new shape of you, but soon enough, it was confident, knowing. He knew exactly how to move, how to make you tighten around him, and his name to escape from your lips a little bit more frantic.

Your fingers spread through his neck, trying to angle him up to you, stifling all your whines against his tongue, but Heeseung only buried his face in the curve of your shoulders in response, his heavy breaths against your skin.

“I want to hear you,” he mumbled. “Please.”

Despite your shyness, you did as he asked, giving him all your noises, whimpers, and the soft, snuffled sounds, allowing them to blend with the summer night and the way he kept whispering for you to not stop.

“Heeseung, I-”

He moved, focusing on you, eyes encountering yours for the first time, all dazed and captivated, and he let out a gasp of breath as he leaned into you, forehead brushing your own. 

“That’s ok, princess,” he whispered, pressing a little bit deeper, a little bit harder. “I am here, come for me.”

You clenched around him, thighs shaking as the knot in your stomach broke loose, just a few moments before he followed you.

Heeseung swallowed your last whine, catching your lips on his as he slipped out. His fingers smoothed your skin, thumbs drawing full circles as he sat you down on his thighs.

The car went quiet, scratched only by the soft rustle of the leaves outside and Heeseung’s heart slowly coming into peace beneath your fingertips.

“Yours,” he whispered.

You drew back, just a bit, hands slipping from his neck and spreading through his chest for support. The moonlight picked strands of his hair, reflected through his damp skin. You couldn’t make sense of what he had said.

“What?”

“Early — when you were introducing me to your grandmother, you didn’t know what to title me,” he explained. “I am yours, no titles required.”

“My Heeseung?” you asked, not being able to control the small smile forming on your lips.

“Yours,” he agreed.

September arrived in Hongcheon as it always did in Seoul. Although summer was still there, painting everything in vivid and full colors, rain clouds lingered in the sky, holding the heat during the day and causing the air to sting with the threat of a storm at the end of the night.

Only that at Hongcheon, the air also stung with the rumble of engines, the smell of car exhaustion, burnt tires, and worries on Saturday nights.

You pulled Heeseung’s jacket tight around your body, tugging the collar up to your mouth and purposely breathing on his peony perfume, allowing it to be the only thing in your lungs as you looked around. This part of the county was so flat, anywhere you looked the low canopy of dense gray clouds seemed to meet the asphalt, and the idea of Heeseung being caught in the rain made your heart falter.

You still remember when Heeseung raced you to the coast, the world was just a blur beyond the windows, the roads too slippy beneath the BMW’s tires. He didn’t need water in the middle of all of this to make it harder.

“They are coming back,” Sunhae announced.

You looked at the highway in time to see headlights breaking in between the asphalt and the clouds.

“Seems like lover boy is leading this week.”

“Damn, I bet on Daekho,” Hayoung cursed.

“You have a crush on him.”

“He is handsome? yes.” your cousin admitted. “Would I mind if the boys gave me his number? Definitely no, but no. I am not twelve to have a crush.”

Sunhae replied something, bringing out the most genuine laugh from both of them, but you were already a world apart, taking in the familiar sound of the BMW’s tires squealing through the asphalt, raising a trail of smoke just a few moments before Heeseung threw his door open, seizing to the roof to slip out faster.

You didn’t remember the decision of moving, only that you did. When Heeseung stepped in front of his headlights, you were already there, threading your fingers in the hair at his nape, bringing his forehead against yours at the same time his hands found the bodice of your dress beneath the thick material of his jacket, brushing his thumbs shamelessly through the curve of your breasts.

“I was worried,” you said.

“Why?”

“It’s going to rain soon.”

“I told you I would come back in one piece.” Heeseung laughed at you, all fond and appreciative before he pestered you with quick kisses all over your face, but when he chased for your lips, you froze beneath his touch, all at once, the wandering fingers in the middle of a brush, the small smile gone.

But only when he followed your eyesight did he notice the reason why.

Sunghoon approached across the highway, his brown Range Rover parked just behind. With all the furor of the racers arriving, and the people shouting, none of you noticed the Range Rover coming in the wrong way. It blended in the middle of all the other fancy cars, yet Sunghoon — Sunghoon could never blend in a place like this.

Heeseung thought the formal attire was a requirement both of them had created for your parent’s lunch, but looking at him there, at eleven o’clock on the night of a Saturday, he wondered if the man ever wore anything that wasn’t dress pants and silk button-downs.

“What a sight,” Sunghoon said. “I hope you both are enjoying the remaining weeks.”

“After all, what do you think’s going to happen by the end of summer, Heeseung?” he asked, but Heeseung didn’t reply.

“Well, let me tell you then. Y/N is going back to the city — back to the best university in the country while you will be here,” Sunghoon said, his hands gesturing to the surroundings with an unmistakable repulse. He didn’t need to finish his thoughts, the sentence had already been completed before he even spoke it, but still, Sunghoon seemed to relish his mind so much that he had to. “At this end of the world, earning your dirty money.”

“Shut up,” Heeseung hissed.

“What? Do you think she likes you?” Sunghoon laughed, head thrown back, but there was no humor in it. “Com’on Heeseung, we both know she is too good for you. It’s pity, and as soon as she is back in Seoul, she will forget this moment of charity,”

“So enjoy fucking her while you can.”

You felt Heeseung stiffening, his jaw clenching beneath your thumbs at the same time his hands slipped away.

“Hee,” You called, but it was too late. He had let you go, fleeing through the space between you and Sunghoon.

Heeseung grabbed Sunghoon’s button-down, twisting the thin material between his fists. He didn’t seem to think about the consequences of his actions — he simply did it, using his grip to push Sunghoon onto the Range Rover’s hood. The sound of the body hitting the brown-tinted metal was almost imperceptible amidst the sudden cheers.

“Not the car.” Sunghoon hissed.

“Not the car?” Heeseung echoed, mockery pushing through each pronounced letter. However, he seemed to concur, ripping Sunghoon from the car hood and allowing the latter to stumble back to his feet.

It happened too quickly for you to process. You didn’t even see who launched the opening blow; you only knew that it happened, getting them into a real fight.

Heeseung laughed in the middle of the chaos, something you always thought to be soft unfolding sharply within the night.

He stopped, pointing at his own face as if to encourage Sunghoon to throw another punch. But the moment Sunghoon did, he went down to the dirty asphalt, Heeseung above him.

“Heeseung!” you called again, more urgently. But he seemed to not have heard you — fist still ready and in the middle of another throw before Jake finally reached them.

“Stop it, you are ruining your damn face,” Jake said, hauling Heeseung up by his shoulders.

“Leave,” Heeseung hissed to Sunghoon. “Before I end you,”

“I have been wanting to do it already.”

Sunghoon stood up, touching his pinkie finger to his lips to check for blood. He had so many bruises on his cheek and hands that the lips seemed the least problem. However, you couldn’t feel sorry for him — not with how he straightened himself, adjusting his button-down and giving you an awful smile.

“You know it’s not over, right?” Sunghoon asked, finally turning to his car.

The Range Rover’s tire squealed as it bit into the asphalt, drifting through the highway. And only when the car disappeared from view, did Jake let go of Heeseung’s shoulders, allowing him to turn back to you, panting, and bleeding.

Despite his state, Heeseung couldn’t feel anything — think about anything. The place still had the smell of car exhaustion and burnt tires, and the air still sting with the upcoming storm, he could hear the commotion of the people around, but everything seemed so subtle that even when your perfume came to his senses, he couldn’t help but wonder if it was just his desperate mind searching for something to hold on in the middle of his numbness.

Yet, he felt your arms around his neck and your warmth against him was enough to pull the world back to its axes. He hugged you back, arms involving your waist, head leaning on your shoulder, the slope of his nose pressed to your neck. He could scent the dirtiness of the race on your skin, the smoke of the cars, and exhaustion, but beneath it, there was your sweet perfume.

“Hee,” you called. There was no reprehension in your tone, it brushed through his skin just like it always did — soft, and all yours. You weren’t sure if you wanted to say something more, it had just slipped through.

Heeseung drew back, just enough for his lips to trail your cheeks, kissing the tears you haven’t realized you had shed.

“I am sorry,” he whispered. “I am so sorry, princess.”

“Just let me take you out of here, hm?” you said.

Heeseung was surprised that you settled yourself on the driver’s seat of his BMW. But he said nothing as he followed you, taking the passenger seat instead. He said nothing when you stepped on the pedals, pulled the first gear, and drove away. Heeseung waited until you both are already far away from the street racing furor, and you a little bit more comfortable with the fourth gear.

“I didn’t know you could drive.”

“I got my driver’s license as soon as the law permitted, but it was because my dad wanted me to,” you said. “I don’t really enjoy it in the city, there are too much traffic, lights — people.”

He chuckled at your statement, it was a minuscule sound spreading through the night before he reached for your thigh, his palm resting warm and wide on your bare skin.

“You look stunning like this.”

“You are so flirty.”

“I am just telling you the truth,” he said. Your mouth parted, a small incredulous sound leaving your throat and Heeseung couldn’t help but laugh — not the sharp laugh he had released with Sunghoon, but the one you loved, the soft, beautiful, and capable of twitching your heart one.

He rested his head on the seat, but not for a single second he allowed his gaze to move away from you as you drove back to the town.

                                      ┈┈┈┈

By the time you reached the main avenue, everything had become so silent, it was easy to think you and Heeseung were the only people left in the world. All the stores had closed for the day, turning their signs off and leaving only the 24 hour convenience store to cast an artificial light among the street lamps.

“I will stop to get something to clean you,” you said.

“You don’t need to, princess,” he replied. But you had already parked in the shade of the walkway outside the glass door, reaching blindly for the space behind the seats in search of your purse.

“Don’t move,” you told him. Yet still, Heeseung did, fingers coming into the encounter the sides of your neck, thumbs caressing your skin, and subtly turning you to his side in an attempt to make you stay.

“You really don’t need to,” he whispered.

The sky was dark with dense clouds. The only source of light was the fluorescent lamps from the convenience store, and with him trying to pull you against him, making you shadow this small sort of light, it was difficult to see his face, but there was something about the way he had said it, so frail, and wheedling.

“Let me take care of you,” you asked. “Please.”

And that was it, even if he never told you, there was this thing inside of him — this inability to simply say no when it was you to receive this small rejection. Heeseung would do anything you asked, in a single heartbeat.

So he waited in the warmth of the BMW, watching as you slipped through the convenience store’s door, his leather jacket still hanging tightly around your shoulders as you scanned the aisles. He felt himself ache just looking at you, chest too tight to breathe, eyes all soft, and when you came back, opening the passenger door, everything he did was slid the seat all the way back, allowing you to climb to his lap, knees around his hips as he reached for you almost unconsciously, hands resting at your waist, thumbs drawing slow circles through the thin material of your dress as you scattered your new purchases through the small space between both of you. A bottle of antiseptic, two packages of cotton, and a bunch of bandages, Heeseung was sure you had bought the whole first aid session from the convenience store.

But before he could joke about it, you turned the car’s light on, and beneath this sudden clarity, you frowned, eyebrows up, lips pressing into a thin line. The wounds were worse than it seemed, there was a cut over his eyebrows, bleeding as a darker bruise spread over his left cheek. You reached for them, the tip of your fingers wandering through his skin as if you could erase them with your bare touch.

“I am sorry, Hee,” you whispered.

“Why are you asking me sorry? I was the one fighting.”

“If it wasn’t because of me, Sunghoon wasn’t going to be there.”

He winced when you touched the cotton on him, gripping hard on your waist. The antiseptic burnt through his cuts.

“What are you to him?” Heeseung asked, so low that if you weren’t paying enough attention to him, it would have slid and slipped away within a moment. “I know you told me he is your father’s business partner’s son, and you both study together, but why does he-”

He stopped, all of a sudden, his eyes preferring to focus on the windshield instead of you.

“Sorry, I trust you, it’s just — He is right, you know? You are too good for me, and I am afraid of how many men you have wrapped around your finger.”

“Heeseung, don’t-”

“I am talking about how you treat me,” he said. “Princess, you never get angry. You didn’t get angry when you found out about the racing — you are not angry right now. I don’t know what you are made of, but surely it’s too good for me.”

“I do get angry,” you whispered. “I am so angry with myself right now. I just wish I could make you understand that you are everything to me, Heeseung. I just wish I could find the right thing to say, the right thing to do, but it seems like the more I try the more I hurt you. I-”

You let go of his face, catching his hand instead, his knuckles were an angry red, with blood dried, and settling in the lines of his skin. You brushed cotton soaked in antiseptic across this new area, hoping he wouldn’t notice the tears coming once again with your head turned down.

But he did. Heeseung was always watching you too attentively.

“I am sorry, princess.”

Heeseung hugged you, his arms embracing your waist as he brought you as close as he could, resting his head on your shoulders, his nose pressed to your neck. He could scent the dirtiness of the race on your skin still, the smoke of the cars, and exhaustion, but beneath it, there was your sweet perfume. There was always your sweet perfume.

“I am so sorry,” he whispered.

Heeseung hasn’t cried — not even once, being it for his mother or for his father. However, when you pulled him tight against your shoulders, fingertips too warm against the sides of his neck, he found himself sobbing like he couldn’t remember ever doing. The forgotten feeling of the tears running down his face slowly becoming familiar once again.

“You don’t have to,” you whispered. “You never have to feel sorry for me.”

You angled Heeseung’s face to you, resting your forehead against his, cleaning his tears with the soft pads of your thumbs. He took the opportunity to catch your bottom lip, pinching it between his a few times before it turned into a real kiss, but you drew back, wrinkling your nose.

“You are tasting like antiseptic,” you said.

He laughed, throwing his head back and closing his eyes for a long moment before he straightened himself back, brushing a stray lock behind your ear.

“You always do,” Heeseung whispered. “Say the right thing, do the right thing.”

“You do too,” you confessed. “What you said to Mrs. Choi — driving to Seoul whenever I want you to, it—”

“Was the simple truth,” he completed. “It takes just an hour to arrive there, and considering I am following the speed limits, what you know I only do when you are in the car.”

“I can come and go twelve times a day, you know?”

It was your turn to shy away, focusing on the collar of his t-shirt instead, playing with the kneaded material with the tip of your fingers.

“You spoil me too much.”

“I can handle a spoiled little princess,” he said.

“Can you?”

“Definitely.”

Heeseung slid his hands to your neck, his thumbs pressing gently into your skin as he tipped your head, angling you so you had to look at him, take in his gleaming eyes for a quiet second before he kissed you, and this time you didn’t draw back, even with the taste of antiseptic and blood when you brushed your tongue through his bottom lip, earning a groan as he parted his mouth for you.

Outside the car, a rumble of thunder echoed through the halted avenue, immediately bringing the awaited storm, the heavy raindrops tapping the BMW windows, but if anything you curled your fingers on Heeseung’s t-shirt, bringing him as close as you could.

The cadence of his heart matched with yours. And it was so easy to believe you both are the only ones remaining in the world — so easy.

                                      ┈┈┈┈

The storm didn’t cease as Heeseung drove you to the rented house, pounding harshly on the windshields as thunder kept breaking through the sky.

His hand seemed to hitch above the gear stick, ready to pull the engine a little bit harder, simply because he knew he could do it — Heeseung had perfect control over the BMW, but you seemed uneasy with the harshness of the storm, and he laughed, reaching for you instead, resting his palm between your tights through the rest of the drive.

Heeseung usually parked on the street, headlights illuminating the garden’s patch for you as he watched you walk away, his leather jacket on your shoulders, high heels hitting the rocks, but tonight, he passed through the gates, stepping on the brakes only when your door was just one jump away from the stairs.

“Is it your father?” he asked, taking your attention to one of the rocking chairs on the porch. As if he had listened to Heeseung, your father stood up, as intimidating as someone could be in a blue-striped pajama, and hair down.

“I should greet him,” Heeseung mumbled, and you nodded, although you thought it wasn’t the best night. You had done your best to clean him, however, the metallic scent of blood was still surrounding the air, quietly yet effortlessly being a constant reminder of the early incident.

The clock on the BMW showed precisely one in the morning, you had never arrived so late, and you tried to convince yourself that was the reason why your father had decided to wait outside for the first time during the whole summer. You tried to convince yourself that if Heeseung remained a few steps behind, your father wouldn’t notice the bandage on his eyebrow, and the darkening bruise on his left cheek.

But there was already something different in your father, something fierce and overprotective. The moment you stepped closer, his hand rested on your shoulder, subtly pulling you away from Heeseung.

“Give his jacket back,” your father demanded.

“What?” you asked, not because you didn’t understand, but because the harshness with which he had said it surprised you.

“You heard me.”

You looked back at Heeseung, mirroring his perplexed expression. He had extended his hand at your father, but it had been ignored by the latter, and Heeseung used his still extended hand to reach for his jacket instead.

There was a moment of silence between you, the only sound coming was from the rumble of thunders, but it wasn’t the cause of the changeless in the air, making it halted and heavy enough to be felt, thick with a tension you weren’t used to. 

“I am sorry for bringing Y/N late, sir,” Heeseung started. He had stopped a bit farther away, the rain plugging on his hair, running through his shoulders, and soaking his t-shirt. “We—”

“You should go back home, Heeseung,” your father cut. “As you said it is late, and I need to have a serious talk with my daughter.”

“I will call you later, Hee,” you promised.

Heeseung nodded at you, stepping behind at the same time your father guided you through the door.

The clarity of the interior of the rented house took you anew, making you blink several times before you could take the form of your mother sitting on the couch, a first kit aid settled on her lap, and a bunch of cotton as dirty as the ones you left on Heeseung’s car discarded on the table in front of her.

There was no real indication of Sunghoon’s passage through the house, but it wouldn’t take a genius to know it was all his doing.

And although you could feel your body cooling, you weren’t surprised when your father finally broke the question.

“Has Heeseung ever raced with you in the car?”

You felt a little lurch at that. The idea of lying seemed to attempt you. It would be so easy to simply say no — so easy to let that night be buried as a secret between you and Heeseung. However, you had allowed the question to hang in for too long, and when you noticed, it was already too late to do so.

In the middle of your silence, your mother released a tortuous sound, closing her hand above her chest as if something inside of her hurt — and perhaps, it did. Her tears streamed silently beneath the night’s light.

“I asked him to do it,” you finally said. “Please, let me explain, Heeseung-”

“Stop it right now!” your father burst, a single hand coming harsh against the nearest wall.

Your father never had screamed at you, not even once. And the sudden ferocity in his voice tore the small thread keeping you from breaking.

“Sunghoon appeared here, bleeding because your boyfriend — a street racer,” he continued, pronouncing street racer with the same repugnance as he would say bandit. “beat him, and not only this, Y/N, you go to his races!”

“What if the police appeared? All the years you dedicated yourself to get into a good University, to stay at the top of your classes — the future you have been working so hard for, all of suddenly thrown in the trash because of a guy?”

“I don’t know who you are anymore, but you surely are not the daughter I raised.”

The living room fell silent at this and only then you noticed how fast your heart was beating. It hummed against your ears, so loud you couldn’t even think.

Your father turned to the stairs, leaving you behind without a second or uncertain glance. He had already declared everything he wanted, be it with words or not. Your mother remained, but if she was going to say something, she let it all go with a single shake of head before she trailed helplessly after him.

You didn’t follow them up the stairs, but instead, you stood still, staring so long into the walls that when you finally reached for your phone, it took a while for your vision to focus.

“Princess?” Heeseung called. Your heart tethered itself, just his voice was enough to make you stop trembling. “I was waiting for you.”

You breathed in, perhaps so harshly that it made him stop at the other end of the line. You weren’t sure how long had it been since your father shoved Heeseung away from the front porch, you only knew it had been long ago, perhaps a lifetime ago, yet — he was still waiting for you.

Heeseung would always wait for you.

“I am sorry,” you whispered, because you were — because you weren’t sure what else you could tell him. “I am so sorry.”

“Sunghoon told your parents about the racing, didn’t he?” he asked. His question didn’t carry the madness or annoyance it could be expected if made just a few hours earlier. Instead, he sounded pitiful.

Heeseung knew his secret would someday come between both of you. He knew it from the moment he had first seen you at the party. You were French dresses, high heels, golden pins on the hair and champagne on the weekends. You had the world at your feet, meanwhile, he barely had a place for himself.

“He did,” you admitted.

He closed his eyes to calm his pulse, and before he could doubt the wisdom of saying it, he did.

“Maybe we should take a break from seeing each other,” he whispered.

“Hee-”

“Just for a few, princess,” Heeseung said. “It will do no good infuriating your father more.”

“I don’t want it to be just a summer thing, you and me,” he continued. “I will do anything to prove my worth to your father, but for now I think we should slow down a bit.”

“You are worth it.”

“I am glad you think like this,” he said, a pinch of a smile in his voice. “Let’s keep calling, alright?”

“Alright.”

Heeseung was the one to call you the next night.

It was precisely at the same hours you had called him, almost as if he had programmed it because he knew it would be safer for you.

You made your way out of bed, walking to the window seat just to curl yourself there in the middle of all the pillows.

“Princess,” he called as soon as you picked up. “Have you looked at the moon tonight?”

With a tethered heart, you turned to the windows, following the moonlight through the clouds above before you exhaled, stuck by the quiet beauty.

“Not until now, it’s beautiful,” you said. Your voice sounded muffed into the pillow.

“Bad hour?” Heeseung asked. “We can hang up.”

“No, please — keep talking, I want to hear you.”

“So suddenly,” he laughed. “What do you want to hear about?”

“Anything, I just want to hear you.”

“Have I ever told you what I studied at university?” he asked. Although you knew Heeseung had been a university student for a few semesters, the question took you anew, you never have stopped to think about what would have been his major. And perhaps because he noticed the reticent on you, he continued without your answer. “Architecture.”

“Really?”

“Why do you sound so surprised?” he laughed.

“I didn’t!”

“You did.”

“I just never stopped to think about your major,” you admitted. “How was it? The university?”

“Glorious and terrible days,” Heeseung said, making you laugh. The sound surprised you, making you press your fingertips against your lips. There was no better way to sum up university life.

“Did you used to live in the dorms?”

“Yes, with Jungwon and Jake,” Heeseung said. You could hear a subtle longing in his voice.

“It seems interesting.”

“It was a mess — we once set off the fire alarm, and the whole building had to evacuate at two in the morning.”

“No.”

“Yes,” he said. “It seemed like a great idea to cook inside the room back then.”

Hours passed this way. Heeseung told stories of his old dorms, and their uncomfortable beds, his university, and its old mismatching buildings. He perfectly surrounded how much he wished he had stayed there, and only gave brief pauses to hear your laugh, the soft hitches of your breaths at the other end of the line.

Heeseung suddenly fell silent, only the ruffle of his sheets being heard.

“How is Seoul?”

“Beautiful and lonely.”

“Do you miss it? Even if it’s lonely?”

“No,” you said. The speed the words have left your lips surprised you, but still, you continued. “I wish I could stay here. Would you build me a dream house here?”

“I never got my architect license,” Heeseung said. “But if you tell me about your dream house, I can find you something.”

“I want to live in the hills.”

“Should I buy your summer house then?”

“I dislike big houses.”

“So do I,” Heeseung said, immediately pressing his lips in regret. It sounded like it was his dream house too.

You could almost picture him — the way his head would bend down before he shook his head in an attempt to cover his shyness. Your lips curved with the image.

“Heeseung?” you called. He only hummed in reply.

“Do you prefer a single-story house or a two-story house?”

“Two-story, especially on the hill — you must enjoy the whole view.”

“With a front porch and a balcony on the second floor?”

“I like the idea.”

“It’s settled then,” you said. “Please, find me my dream house — don’t forget the garage for your  BMW, I will also be bringing my Jeep.”

You had hung up so softly, it took him several seconds to notice you did.

It had already been a week when you waited for the house to turn into nothing but the summer breezes coming from the forgotten opened windows before you leaped off the bed, moving as quietly as you could to the front porch.

Beyond the garden, Hongcheon was so calm that you were afraid your whispers would unfold too loudly through the night. However, you sat down on the stairs still, your bare feet brushing through the warm grass as you unlocked your phone, reaching for the single contact you could possibly want.

It rang just a single time before Heeseung picked it up.

“Princess,” he said. You could swear he was smiling at the other end of the line.

“Take me somewhere?”

                                      ┈┈┈┈

Heeseung parked his BMW a little bit farther than the conventional, the headlights turned off. He didn’t wait for you to come to the car, the moment he pressed the parking brake, his door was opened and he rushed to you, his warmth involving your waist in a familiarity that made you ache. He swirled you, just once — pulling you out of the ground as his nose buried at the side of your neck, inhaling every little detail he could before he put you back on your feet and drew an inch away, just enough to encounter your gaze beneath the goldish street lights.

His bruises had gotten older, and lighter, already turning into a greenish tone and therefore making it more difficult to look at. But still, you reach for it, the tip of your fingers softly pressuring against his sensitive skin.

Heeseung leaned his forehead against yours. And all of sudden you could scent him, the summer he carried beneath his skin together with peonies. There was no scent of car exhaustion tonight, nor the scent of his leather jacket as he only wore a gray t-shirt and his washed jeans, but it was still very much your Heeseung.

“I missed you,” you said, voice nothing more than a soft whisper.

“I missed you too.”

                                      ┈┈┈┈

Heeseung drove you through the dense wood outside of the town, going down on a patch not meant to be passed through, but he seemed to know where he was going, and it was enough for you to adjust comfortably on the seat, bare feet up, legs clutched to your chest. Your dress slipped down on your thigh and gathered in the crease of your hips, showing off way too much but if anything Heeseung’s hand left the gear stick to rest on it, fingers spreading on your bare skin.

The clock on the dash told you the sun was closer to its rising than its setting, yet still, you could feel the warmth of the day brushing through the open windows of the BMW. Everything outside smelled like the moistness of the late summer.

“Where are you taking me?” you asked.

“It’s a secret.” Heeseung replied with a broad smile.

He dropped down a few gears just several minutes after, parking the BMW. The headlights only lit rocks, and only when you slipped out of the car you saw the swimming hole, pooled in the moonlight.

Heeseung stepped forward, kicking off his shoes first, and then pulling his t-shirt and jeans, allowing everything to fall with a dull sound on the ground.

“What are you doing?”

“Taking a night swim,” he said, a split second before he jumped in.

Heeseung submerged, his skin sparkling beneath the moonlight glow and the BMW’s headlights, all the drops catching the silver lights as he threw his head back in a laugh.

“Aren’t you coming, princess?”

You could feel Heeseung’s eyes burning your skin, watching you attentively as you slid the straps of your dress away, allowing the thin material to fall.

He said nothing as his gaze traveled down on you, accompanying each of your moves as you reached for the back of your bra and unclasped it. He just stood there, taking the angle of your shoulders, the swell of your breasts. Heeseung was cataloging every inch of you and checking if he hadn’t let anything escape at the first time with adoration.

As you sat on the rocks, feet reaching the water, the cold made it difficult for you to breathe. But before you had a chance to give a better consideration, you snuck in.

“You are crazy, Lee Heeseung,” you gasped.

He laughed at you, allowing the sound to resonate within the night once again as he ended the few inches between you, coming so close you could lift your hand and touch his damp locks, brushing it away from his forehead with no effort despite the height difference.

“But you love me,” Heeseung whispered, taking you anew. The words had left his lips so softly that if you weren’t paying close attention to him, you would believe it was just another passing breeze through your skin.

“Yes,” you whispered back. “I do love you.”

It was a strange thing. Over the past months, he had seen it in your eyes, tasted through your lips, and felt it through every one of your touches. Yet, the impact of how you wordly confirmed you loved him, lanced through his body.

He looked at you like you were a dream to him, and perhaps you were. You could hear the slight tremor in his breath when he exhaled. And the words that came later ached within you.

“I love you too — I love you so much.”

Your hands found the back of his neck, bringing his forehead against yours at the same time he grabbed your thighs, pulling it around his hips. The familiar pressure of his fingertips drawing patterns through your skin before he hitched you higher, your upper body floating above the water.

For such a dark place, there was a great deal of illumination and you could take sight of yourself. Your hair clung to your body, dribbling at the curves and emphasizing the swell of your breasts. The view just seemed to enchant Heeseung even more, his doe-eyes sparkled beneath the moonlight, shining like stars before he went down on you, trailing your stomach with soft kisses.

He whispered your name. The almost never said word grating over your skin.

“I can’t get enough of you,” he said. “I never can get enough of you.”

The headlights of the BMW went off, and Heeseung straightened you back to him, shivers spreading through your skin as his hands slid through you, tracing the slick ridge of your spine before finding the sides of your neck in the dim light.

You were unsettling, skin sparkling in the moonlight glow, and the moment you met his gaze, Heeseung felt completely dazed. His thumb pressed against your lips, just enough for you to part them for him, and allow his finger to slip through the tip of your tongue.

“What are you doing to me?” he groaned. But he was soft and gentle with it, a hint of a laugh when he kissed you.

Heeseung seemed so happy tonight, all crafted on the unconditional gaiety he deserved. And you weren’t willing to let the night end. You weren’t willing to let go of him — not now, not in a few.

Your fingers curled on the hair at his nape, pulling him closer, trying to end a distance that didn’t exist anymore. You could feel Heeseung entirely. From the way he shivered beneath your touch, to the way his breath hitched when you slipped down, mouth running through his throat.

“I want to stay with you.”

“Then stay with me,” He whispered. “For as long as you want.”

                                      ┈┈┈┈

Heeseung’s house was as lovely as you remembered — even now, when he closed the door behind you, cutting the only direct source of light, the house was radiant as if it had its own sun.

He stepped past you, reaching his hand out behind. At first, he just pinched your fingertips, but as he guided you through the stairs, he laced his fingers on yours, pulling you closer to him and guiding you through the corridor. He was skilled in finding the most silent places on the wooden floor, allowing your breaths to be the loudest thing resonating through the whole place.

The second-story was tinier than the first one, just a narrow corridor with three doors. Heeseung brought you to the nearest one, turning the light on, you blinked at a blue-tiled bathroom.

“You can go in first,” he told you, walking up to the shower, he turned the knobs and checked the temperature for you. “I will find you some clothes and — everything.”

You barely could nod before he stepped out of the bathroom, closing the door behind him.

Heeseung left you alone to shower, giving you enough time to fill the whole space with a sweet-smelling soap and when he did come back, he didn’t look at you, being deeply focused on the task of leaving the clothes at the sink.

“Hee,” you called. He raised his head at you, meeting your gaze through the fogged glass at the same time you tilted your head to the space in front of you in an unspoken invitation.

Even with the distance you could notice how his breath got caught, a moment of hesitation passing before he reached for the collar of his t-shirt, discharging it and then, his jeans, stripping it down together with his underwear. But all of a sudden, you understood why he was acting like this.

Both of the times you had been together, it was beneath the moonlight, hidden within the night. There was something unduly intimate about the fluorescent lamp above you. It illuminated every sinewy line of his body as he came to a stop in front of you. And it took every ounce of you to reach for the shampoo instead of him.

“Let me-” you started. However, Heeseung had kneeled in front of you, with no second thoughts, he just did it — meeting your gaze through his eyelashes, water pearling on the end for a second before he closed his eyes.

You threaded your fingers through his hair, and he threw his head a bit back, his palms spreading through your hips for support. He honestly didn’t know what to do with himself there. Heeseung couldn’t remember a time someone touched him so gently before you, not because you thought he was breakable, but because you thought he deserved this.

He allowed you to rinse his hair, only standing up when you subtly tap his hands. And then, he let you smooth over his bare skin, starting with his shoulders, and rubbing down to his chest, he groaned when you reached for his low abdomen, fingertips hovering dangerously close to his aching length.

“Princess,” he called. However, his words left his lips with no warning.

“You are hard.”

Heeseung chuckled at your statement, leaning on you, his lips met your ears, scattering shivers through your body despite the warm water.

“I have been struggling with it ever since you took your dress off in the swimming hole,” he confessed.

“Then I should take care of it,” you said, reaching for him, hand wrapping around his length. He cursed when you rolled your thumb through his tip, but he allowed you to stroke him at your pace nonetheless, edging him until his breaths were heavier, shorter, gasping as the only thing passing through his lips was your name, all wishful.

His head dropped forward, burying his nose against your shoulders, and you had to ask him to move, to look at you, to allow you to kiss him tantalizingly sweet, and nothing like the way you kept touching him. Nothing like the whine you accidentally let escape.

Heeseung drew away, all of a sudden before he grabbed your thighs, lifting you easily — perhaps too easily, and making your legs fold around his waist.

“You have been taking too much care of me, let me take care of you too,” he asked.

The bathroom felt smaller, brighter, and softer as you nodded, allowing Heeseung to push himself into you, calling your name, pronouncing each letter with an unreasonable fondness, and turning it into a mutter singing through his pulses.

His moves were careless this time, gone on all your teasing, but he still managed to make you tighten around him, fingers curling on the hair of his nape as your mouth parted against his.

Heeseung swallowed your noises, pressed kisses on your lips as he felt you shaking, spread his palms on the back of your thigh to hold you through your high, and helped you stand when you felt too weak to.

He turned the knobs, letting the bathroom fall silent before he wrapped you both in towels, his hands never letting you go as he guided you to sit between his legs at the toilet before he started rubbing your hair.

“Sorry, I don’t have a hair dryer,” he said.

“It’s better this way,” you admitted, your voice almost sounding purred as you inclined your head back. Heeseung chuckled at your actions, but if anything, his fingers worked slower, rubbing your hair with gentleness until it seemed dried enough to let you slip into the oversized t-shirt he had brought you.

You weren’t sure what time it was, but when he opened the door to his room. The world outside seemed vivid in comparison, a mist of light blue and purple coming through his opened windows.

Heeseung climbed to his bed first, subtly tapping the space at his side in an invitation, and when you followed, he pulled you against him, fitting your body to his — tangling you as much as he could into the circle of his warmth.

“Can you say it again?” he whispered. “What did you say in the swimming hole?”

“That I love you?”

“Yes.”

“Heeseung, I love you,” you said, leaning into him, your forehead on his shoulder, fingertips pressing against the exact place above his heart, feeling the cadence of his whole being as he exhaled, reaching for you too — curling his fingers above yours.

“I love you too, princess.”

The room fell silent, just the soft hustle of his thumbs brushing the inner curve of your wrist, slowly and carefully, causing you to close your eyes. And for the first time, you fell asleep to Heeseung’s beating heart.

You woke up to the summer sunlight filtering through the still-opened windows of Heeseung’s room, the morning glow reflecting through the wind bell and dappling the room in a dozen of colors.

Heeseung was still asleep, the calm rise and fall of his chest beneath your fingertips. He held your hand exactly where you had left it above his heart last night, fingers curled around yours still. You didn’t want to slip away, not yet. But your sore throat hurt and the only cup of water visible had been dried by summer heat.

He stirred when you slipped away from his touch, but he didn’t wake up. His face remains calm, the dark curls of his hair shadowing his eyes as you left the room.

When you approached the kitchen, you heard the soft hustle of dishes echoing, drawers opening and shutting as a secure sign his grandmother was awake. And suddenly you were conscious of your current situation.

Heeseung had gotten you an oversized t-shirt, leaving barely anything of your thighs to see. Yet, the idea of her finding you in nothing but her grandson’s t-shirt as the first thing in the morning seemed somehow worse than coming in a mini and tight dress. But she only turned around to your presence, a smile spreading through her lips before she reached from across the tiny kitchen, taking your hands in a familiar squeeze.

“My dear,” she breathed out. “I had no idea you were here! Are you hungry? I have just prepared a few sandwiches and iced tea.”

“No- I don’t want to bother.”

“Just make me company for a few, I have to leave soon anyway — book club.”

“Oh, seems interesting.”

“Not at all, just a bunch of old women talking about romance books, but I should leave the house once in a while, you know? Not to mold,” she said, making you laugh.

Heeseung’s grandmother poured two cups of iced tea, handing one to you without any further speaking before she sat on one of the kitchen’s chairs, and gestured for you to do the same.

It was relaxed at first, all about her talking of her early years in this small county as the sun kept coming up, but then, she became stiff, approaching the moment Heeseung’s father died.

“It was a tragedy for me, of course. But it ruined Heeseung — I thought I had lost both of my son and grandson that night. You should’ve seen him a few years ago, you wouldn’t even recognize him — he was so lonely and gloomy, even with Jake and Jungwon nearby.”

“But you appeared here — right here,” she continued, pointing at the front door. “I haven’t seen him smile like that in months.”

“I know he is involved in something I wouldn’t be proud of — but he is a good person.”

“He is,” you whispered, not because she needed confirmation, but because it was good to say it out loud. “Heeseung is the greatest person I have ever met.”

                                      ┈┈┈┈

When you got back to Heeseung’s room, the morning sun had already given in, allowing the afternoon light to bathe his room entirely.

Heeseung had rolled in his sleep, his back now turned to the place where you had been and the sun perfectly angled upon him. The waves of his dark hair glinted in errant streaks of gold and his skin seemed warm.

You climbed the bed, wrapping your arms around his waist. He still had the sweet scent of the shampoo you both had used late at night, but you could swear there was something brighter on it, something like a change. You spread your fingers above his heart, feeling the cadence of his being.

Only when you had soothed, Heeseung reached for you too, his hand resting right above yours, intertwining your fingers together and letting you know he was awake.

“Where did you go?” he asked, his voice horse from sleep.

You had listened to his question, but you didn’t immediately reply, allowing another moment to hang as you came even closer against his sun-warmed skin, kissing his shoulders.

“I was talking to your grandma.”

“Somehow, it worries me.”

“Why?”

“Wasn’t she exposing me or something?”

“Yes,” you smiled. “People have something to tell me about your past.”

“Exactly — what if they tell you something that makes you want to leave me?” Heeseung asked, although there was a hint of entertainment in his voice, your answer was solemn.

“I doubt it can happen.”

Heeseung rolled to you, blinking with the sudden clarity. His eyes gleamed beneath the morning light. The brown dark mesmerizing turning hazel before he reached for you — fingertips tracing your face with a delicacy you imagined people devoted only to precious things.

His lips found yours easily, just like they always did. His hands spread across your cheeks, fingers brushing and tangling through your hair as he brought you unbelievably closer as if he believed his existence lay in the acknowledgment of you — on how your heartbeats resonated together, how naturally your hands curled around his shoulders, and the sensations your bare fingertips are capable of drawing on his skin.

His tongue slid against your bottom lip, softly yet demanding, and you obliged immediately, letting him press his tongue over yours in a way that made your body filled with warmth.

You sighed into him, and Heeseung moved swiftly through the bed, hovering above you, his hands promptly leaving your face just to find the crook of your knee, lifting it to his hips before he leaned in, kissing the pulse on your neck. His lips moved tenderly against your skin, pinching as his hands found the hem of your — his shirt, working it up to your thighs, your waist. He paused only to slip it over your head.

His hands splayed through your waist, holding you still.

“Tell me what you want me to do,” Heeseung said. “I will do it.”

You grazed on him, eyes dazed as your fingertips found his lips in a silent and almost unconscious wish. Heeseung smiled as he glided away from your touch. Because he understood you just too well — because he was willing to do anything you asked him to.

“Y/N, my princess,” he confided. “My love.”

“Don’t get me wrong, I loved having you in my car, and the shower, but having you here — all pretty on my bed, I will take my time with you.”

His fingers dig at the crook of your knee, lifting your leg to his shoulder as he finished moving into the space between your legs. He traced a path of kisses over the inner of your thighs, greedy, pushy, and purposely avoiding the place where you needed him the most. He had said he was going to take his time with you, and apparently, he meant to be true to his words.

You whined at his actions, and he chuckled, giving one final kiss before he allowed his tongue to run between your lips, from the bottom all the way to the top. It was warm soft licks, before he gave your clit an attention that made your legs shake.

Your fingers tangled in his hair, nails scratching lightly against his scalp, just enough pressure to make him shiver beneath your touch. Heeseung deepened and you knew even with your eyes closed that he was giving you his sweet smile.

You made a lousy sound, clapping a hand over your mouth to stifle it before Heeseung reached for you, intertwining your fingers, bringing it far from your lips and down into the mattress.

“Don’t,” he whispered. “I want to hear you.”

He moved onto his knees, hair mussed from your fingers, lips rosy, and you would have felt embarrassed if he wasn’t looking at you like there was no one else in this world for him, but he was, and you reached for him, pushing at the waistband of his sweatpants, removing the only thing preventing you from feeling him fully.

His sweatpants hit his bedroom floor with a soft and ignorable thud before his lips were on you again, tongue pressing against yours, tasting like you still.

You folded your legs around his waist, thighs clenching around him, squeezing him almost unconsciously as he crowded into you, one forearm on the pillow by your head, holding himself over you as he pushed into you.

He hissed, looking down between your bodies, eyes glazed as he watched how you fit together. You sobbed when he clutched at you tighter, fingers spreading through your waist as his hips stuttered with impatience and greed.

“Am I hurting you?”

You shook your head frantically, fingers spreading at his neck, angling his forehead against yours, pressing kisses to his jaw, cheeks, and lips, mumbling how it was alright as you felt yourself coiling tighter and tighter, and Heeseung’s rhythm becoming languid.

He came when you did, as defenseless and relinquished as he could be, pulling away almost as if it broke him to let you go.

Heeseung lay by your side, and when you turned to him the sun dazed you. He shielded your eyes, resting his fingertips lightly by the side of your temples as you moved closer to him.

This time around, none of you bothered about clothes, cuddling as the rhythm of your hearts slowly came in pace with the whole summer.

“I never have and won’t ever love anyone the way I love you,” he whispered, breath threading into your hair like a secret.

“When I have to drive you back — let me try talking with your parents.”

                                      ┈┈┈┈

The house on the hill seemed as imposing as it did a few weeks ago, the three-story construction shadowing both of you from the golden sun as you walked through the driveway. Heeseung said nothing as you stopped on the front porch, he said nothing as you turned to him, reaching to his neck, threading your fingers in the hair at his nape, and angling him down to you.

He let you smooth him, brushing your nose against his, catching his bottom lip between yours in the taunting kiss he knew never in million times grow tired of.

“I am here,” you whispered, so softly, he almost didn’t hear it beneath the sound of his throbbing heart.

“I don’t want to lose you,” he said, and it took all of your strength not to wilt as you brushed the pads of your thumbs along his cheekbones. Heeseung always spoke his confessions easily, almost unconsciously, leaving the words to scatter and ache within you all alone.

“You won’t,” you said. “You won’t ever lose me.”

“Of course, I consider a lot of what my parents tell me, but Heeseung,” you paused, allowing his name to scatter through the breeze, all soft, and yours. “No one can carry my life for me, at the end of the day, I want to be with you, and I will be.”

“There’s no one else in this world like you,” you whispered. It was a phrase stolen from him, yet, it seemed effective. Heeseung tried to prevent his happiness from materializing through his smile because he knew he would look like the fool he was for you. Yet, you could see his happiness in his eyes. The tiny dazzle they had as Heeseung reached for your waist, drawing you impossibly closer to him.

“I am ready,” he said.

You opened the door slowly, and your parents together with your grandmother were revealed to be in the living room. A deck of cards being quickly forgotten at the center table as your father stood up from one of the couches.

The afternoon light turned everything dazing.

“Me and Heeseung — we would like to talk with you,” you said.

There was a small pause, a small gap in time when no one moved, no one breathed. But then, your grandmother reached out, enclosing her hands on yours and Heeseung’s wrists, dragging both of you to the couch too.

“We should listen to what the youth has to say,” she smiled.

Heeseung would be lying if later on he said he remembered perfectly how the moment unfolded. He remembered you had taken his hand on yours, caressing the back of his hand. He remembered your father had sat back on the couch, running his hand through his hair. He remembered your mother nodding in encouragement. However, he had no memory of how he did start talking, how the story of his life simply was spread beneath the passing minutes. 

Yet it did and when he finished he noticed everyone was listening to him, not letting the moment escape like him.

“How old were you?” your father asked. “When all of this happened?”

“Twenty-one.”

“It’s too young,” the man sighed, looking at your mother. They were silently talking, and Heeseung had this impression that he had encountered something too intimate — too unique of people who loved each other so he turned to you instead.

You had your gaze already fixed on him, eyes gleaming, lips curling on a smile.

“Do you love her?” your mother asked. You stopped all of a sudden, surprised by the sudden question, but Heeseung didn’t falter for even a second before he replied.

“Yes, I do.”

“Then that’s what matters,” she said. “I have been telling Y/N’s father, we surely do not approve your way of earning life, but it’s on both of you. I raised her wanting the best, and by the best, I mean her happiness — if you can guarantee me that. I don’t mind the rest.”

“And as long as you don’t race with her in the car,” your father added.

“I won’t, sir.”

“Please, no sir — we are all family here.”

By the time Heeseung’s BMW reached the invisible line dividing the road from the shore, the sun had dipped to touch the horizon, the last sunset of the summer illuminating the ocean with straps of gold.

However, despite the gloomy sensation of the end, it seemed unbelievably peaceful, and vast.

You didn’t wait for Heeseung to turn the engine off, you leaped from the BMW the moment he parked, already barefoot and rushing through the sand as your laugh echoed through the cooling breeze.

Heeseung followed you, slowly, taking in how the water was hitting your thighs, damping the hem of your dress. He wasn’t surprised when you turned to him, the camera he had won for you at the carnival in your hands.

It seemed a lifetime since you both had been there, it seemed like no time at all.

“It’s my last film,” you informed him, eyes squinting as you looked through the lens at him. “Do it prettily.”

However, you gave him no time, the flash came off just a second after, dazing him for a second before he saw you still grinning as you brought the camera away from your face, and he took the last step to reach you, palms spreading through your thighs, lifting you to his waist.

“You seem too happy to someone who’s going back to Seoul to start another university semester,” he said.

“My boyfriend is going with me, so of course I am happy.”

“Is he?” Heeseung asked.

“Yes, going to spend whole weeks with me.”

“Seems like he spoils you a lot.”

“He does,” you confirmed. “He says from the moment he saw me he was gone, willing to do anything I asked for.”

He laughed, throwing his head back, allowing the sun to bathe his skin, his mussed hair, beams of light simply not being able to not reach for him. He was all crafted on the unconditional gaiety he deserved as he closed his eyes for a long moment before he straightened himself back to you.

Your fingers spread through the sides of his neck, scattering shivers through his spine.

Heeseung had never believed in love, at least not the real thing, not the capable of awakening his soul and bringing peace to his mind type of love.

It happened to other people, in other places, but not to him in the small county of Hongcheon. Yet, it did.

As you leaned on him, forehead resting against his, lips brushing in a tantalizing kiss, he knew, that’s exactly what you had given to him, and he hoped he could give it back to you forever.

#bro ​i’m not even a heeseung stan and this had me bawling #the plot???? #the dialogue??? #had me BLUSHING #hands down one of the best hee fics out there #everyone read this immediately !!! #flatline #en ternity #heeseung #lee heeseung

[sleepingrenjun]

𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐈𝐃𝐃𝐋𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐍𝐎𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄, 𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐌 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐈𝐃𝐃𝐋𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐍𝐎𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄

PAIRING- Baker!Ex-surgeon!Jake Sim x Fem!Traveller!Reader

SUMMARY- when his wife passed away, Jake thought the chapters of happiness in his life had commenced. To salvage whatever he could remember of her, he moved to Europe and opened a cafe, leaving his life as a surgeon and everything along with it. Starting anew with his wife's fantasy for a life, he lived for eight empty years until Y/N eased into his world and filled holes he didn't know existed, but she was fated to leave him like his wife did

NOTES AND WARNINGS- this took months to complete, months. I put so much effort into this so the people that actually wind up reading this monster 'till the end? You have my heart, ya'll are real ones. So warnings, uh, death, alcohol, mentions of sex, lots of travelling and most of the story is set in Italy. I put in so much effort ya'll. I can confidently say that I probably won't write anymore if it becomes a flop. We've seen posts about how people should interact more with fanfiction writers and fanfiction posts. Yeah, it'll all I ask for. Anyways, enjoy

WORD COUNT- 33k

ᴍᴀsᴛᴇʀʟɪsᴛ | ᴇɴʜʏᴘᴇɴ ᴍᴀsᴛᴇʀʟɪsᴛ

어딘가 나른할 때

i. The End

If being a surgeon had taught him anything, it would be to remain calm.

Under any circumstance, remain calm.

Growing up, Jake was always clumsy. Even with steady fingers, he would always find himself tripping over his laces or swerving his car in the wrong direction if he was distracted in the slightest bit. In high school, his peers had even given him a nickname- The Klutz, his teachers and classmates called him and it had gotten to the point where it was the only name he responded to. But always with his charming grin and boyish charm, of course. During college, his professors almost laughed in his face for his clumsiness, deeming him unprepared and uncoordinated for medicine, let alone becoming a surgeon. However, throughout his years in medical school, it was his textbooks and heavy workload that mellowed his clumsiness into something easier to handle; into something his professors or mentors wouldn't call negligence.

Clumsiness always stayed with him though. It was a trait of his that refused to leave him and it manifested in mundane areas in his life like almost losing balance while carrying a huge pile of books or dropping his fork while eating ramen in the middle of the night. He found that tripping on his shoelaces was a habit that would never leave him but at least now, he wouldn't fall face-first onto the ground in the hallways. When he did embarrass himself, though, he would always brush it off with his signature boyish charm, a smile so irresistible that his classmates- fellow medicine students- would be swooning over him even if he had cake frosting and spaghetti sauce all over him.

Jake probably wasn’t the best medical student. Still, somehow, after taking many courses that sounded significant and writing exams that proved him an above-average student, he became an intern at Seoul National University Hospital. It was one of Korea’s best teaching hospitals and his parents couldn’t have been happier with him. Jake, despite being drained of his energy with ninety work-hours a week, could not be happier to be an intern among sixteen others because among those sixteen others was Ari, who would become his future wife. She was beautiful, just as her name defined her to be. Her long, black hair would always be tied in a ponytail and she would address her bosses with the utmost respect but seconds later she would be found cracking jokes and talking witty with everyone in the building. In the surgeries she was asked to scrub in, it was her words that would bring the doctors and nurses a sense of ease and her patients a strong will to believe- it was all in her nature; like she was born to do her job.

It was probably the sixth month of his being an intern that he remembered vowing never to show clumsiness again. He and Ari were asked to scrub in for surgery, specifically for a hemispherectomy, where the deceased half of a nine-year-old boy’s brain had to be removed. Doctor Lee was the Head Surgeon that day, concentrating through the lenses of his surgical loupes while holding scalpels that were expected to save the boy’s life. But, it was an unfortunate event. Something had caused Doctor Lee’s hands to shake, some nurse walked past him too quickly and nudged his shoulder and just like that, a surgery that was supposed to last six hours was ended in only two and the boy’s time of death was called at 11:38. Ko Ji-Hoon, his name was… and Jake would never forget the agonised cry his mother let out when she found out her son didn’t survive the surgery. The hospital faced a lawsuit and the nurse that had nudged Doctor Lee’s shoulder was fired within an hour.

Clumsiness was not a part of Jake’s personality after that incident.

Jake was a completely changed man since then. He remained calm through everything and perhaps that made him more endearing. He was calm when he asked out Ari for the first time, leading to the most eventful date he could offer her. He was calm when he became an attending cardiothoracic surgeon at Seoul National University Hospital, aiding his success in the field. He was calm during the most stressful surgery he had ever performed, instructing all the interns and nurses in the Operating Room with a steady voice and steady hand that stitched a broken heart together. He was calm while congratulating Doctor Lee on his promotion to becoming Chief of Surgery, raising his glass of wine at the dinner table with a simple nod and smile. He was calm on his wedding day, shedding a few tears in silence and whispering sweet compliments in Ari’s ear as she spoke her vows. He was always calm, only allowing his adrenaline to peak to a specific level and never passed it unless he was drunk. He could never control himself when he was drunk.

The only time he lost his composure since that incident was on the eighth of July, 2013. It started as a normal day- he kissed Ari a good morning before leaving for work as he had an early surgery to perform. He drank coffee with Doctor Lee and Doctor Park, joined by Ari a few minutes in. He took his time to finish pending paperwork, his lovely wife sitting beside him doing the same thing. It was a calm day, in all honesty. Either silence or childish banter was flowing between the married couple, a cup of vanilla latte was shared between the two because it was their first time trying it and they decided one would be enough- it tasted horrible. But the moment was peaceful and romantic, the definition of their marriage.

Then the day took a turn, though, when a new intern, Doctor Nishimura, burst through the doors of the room they sat in. He yelled at them with pleading eyes, ushering them out and into an Operating Room for emergency surgery- the married couple were trudging towards their beck and call.

“Honey?” Jake called as he emptied the pockets of his scrubs. Ari hummed, trudging beside him down the hallway. “Have I told you how much I love your hair today?”

“Why, thank you, jagiya,” she smiled, running a hand through her newly dyed auburn-red hair.

The change in her hair came around a month ago. She dragged him to the salon on a Tuesday evening in broad daylight. It was a bad idea to skip their duty as doctors uninformed, even if it were for only a couple of hours, but Ari was excited, skipping and giggling about how thrilled she was about something she refused to tell him. Jake spent his time in the salon guessing what it could be that his wife was enthralled about while her hair was being folded in sheets of silver foil. When he asked, she told him it would be a surprise.

“You seem to be smiling a lot today,” Jake voiced his observation as he stretched his surgical gloves on, closing the doors of the Operating Room behind his wife.

“That’s because I’m revealing the surprise today,” she wiggled her brows and her smirk was covered by her mask, but it was brighter than the sun to Jake.

So, the surgery started, a neurosurgeon and cardiothoracic surgeon working together to fix what was left of a crashing circulatory system. The nurses were cooperative and throughout the process, Jake was doing his best to allow Doctor Nishimura to learn something along the way, which meant that he was expected to answer every question he was asked and do what he was asked to do, even if it meant he had to squeeze a live heart for it to beat again- as an aspiring surgeon, he was eager. A complicated surgery progressed excellently yet it would be during that surgery that Jake lost his composure at 14:27 when Ari’s eyes started rolling to the back of her head, gasping for air as she stumbled back and eventually collapsed.

Scalpels still in his hand, he stopped probing his patient’s heart and yelled for help. Although he wanted to run toward his collapsed wife, he couldn’t due to fear of leaving his patient unattended. Doctor Nishimura and a few nurses carried Ari outside, urging Jake to finish the surgery before worrying about his wife and that she was in good hands- he was sure she was in good hands. All the surgeons in the hospital had grown to be a part of whatever family he had left and with their fondness towards Ari, he was sure they would do everything in their power to save her.

Jake barely made it out of the Operating Room, running towards his wife the second he was sure of leaving his patient with the rest of the nurses. His heart thumped with adrenaline, words spewing out of his mouth in yells and screams for the first time in many years as he ran towards whichever room Ari would be in. When he found her, she was lying in a hospital bed, her beautiful red hair strewn across the pillow while a tube ran down her throat. Doctor Park, Seoul’s best neonatal surgeon, stood beside her, Doctor Lee standing beside him with his hospital cap held to his chest. Doctor Nishimura stood on the other side, wide eyes with a gaping mouth, eyes empty as he stared at the corpse of his superior. The flatline of the heart monitor finally became audible to Jake.

“Time of death, 15:19,” Doctor Park announced, eyes and body unmoving though aware of Jake’s presence. “We did everything we could Jake, I’m sorry.”

Ignoring what he had to say, Jake took a step towards Ari, her skin suddenly a ghostly pale. “Jay, what happened?” He choked, refusing to take his eyes off the rest of the doctors in the room. “How did it happen?”

“It was an ectopic pregnancy,” Doctor Park responded. “She was pregnant.”

Jake, with that piece of information, collapsed on the floor. His whole world came crashing down- it was as though he was steadily riding up an elevator, only for its cords to snap and the elevator to crash in a fleeting moment. Bile moved up his oesophagus and pressure built up in his skull, chest and spine. As a doctor, he could diagnose these symptoms and give himself medicine and saline to recover but as a husband, he diagnosed it as grief. The sudden emptiness in his heart, the cold of a winter’s night burrowing deep within its four chambers, made him feel like he was about to freeze to death if he didn’t feel the warmth of his wife’s hugs again. He felt as though he would never feel warm again, no matter whose presence he was in. Yet the hot tears in his eyes told him he needed one of the doctors- anyone he considered family- to sit there with him and grieve. He wanted Jay Park and Heeseung Lee to sit with him and grieve.

“Doctor Nishimura, I think you should leave,” Doctor Lee mumbled, pressing his lips together and lifting his head to swallow his tears. The intern left, eyes remaining as wide as saucers until he came into the presence of the other interns he was familiar with, confiding in them the tragedy he was intertwined with.

“Heeseung?” Jake meekly whimpered. “Why?”

Doctor Lee sighed, nimbly stepping towards him and Doctor Park followed. The pair sat on either side of him, the former formulating an answer and the latter sitting in silence, paying his respects for the deceased- a girl he became friends with throughout their years as interns. “We were five minutes too late,” Doctor Lee answered. “Jake, I am sorry.”

“Do you know the gender of the child?” 

“It was too early to tell, I’m sorry.”

Jake wondered why the Chief of Surgery was apologising to him, as though he was the reason for Ari’s, his wife’s, death. He told himself it was fate, that whatever has happened needed to happen and no matter how much effort and drugs and energy they put into saving her, she would end up dead and the baby would end up dead. In a minute of silence, he went through all the possibilities of what could have been- if she had mentioned that she wasn’t feeling well in the Operating Room, they could have gotten her into Emergency Surgery sooner. If she survived and the baby didn’t, at least he would still have her with him and he would cradle her back to health no matter the grief that existed for a baby that could have never been. If Ari had survived, they could have tried for another baby and if it weren’t a possibility, they could have adopted or opted for surrogacy. If Ari had told him earlier that she was pregnant, such complications wouldn’t have surfaced and she would still be alive. The heart monitor wouldn’t be showing a flatline and her chest would still be rising up and down with fresh oxygen in her blood.

“She was pregnant,” Jake breathed, clenching his fist over the area where his heart resided, sharp pain in his emotions. “That was the surprise she was going to reveal today, that she was pregnant.”

He remembered how she proudly ran her fingers from the roots to the tips of her hair when he complimented its fading yet bright shade of red. He could almost picture the smirk she must have had behind her mask before they fell into the limbo of the rinse-and-repeat procedure of surgery. He could still hear her voice in his head, excited and giddy as she told him her plans while walking into the ill-fated Operating Room where she collapsed. He recalled and played the memories of all the moments that lead to her collapsing on the sacred floors of the hospital and suddenly, he couldn’t breathe anymore. 

In the minute of silence, while he went through everything that could have been and everything that was, he couldn’t breathe and he held onto Doctor Lee’s shirt in desperation- Jake wasn’t calm anymore.

ii. Somewhere In Italy, There Was a Café

Sunghoon had always been successful in his life, which meant that he was always surrounded by successful people in his life. His father was the founder of the most successful stocks company in Asia and even if he had no idea what the purpose of his business was, he still taught him how to gamble with luck and be confident with whatever decision he made. His mother was the most famous ballet dancer in Korea and she taught him how to chase his dreams no matter how unreal or impossible they seemed. He was taught by some of the world's most skilled surgeons, eventually becoming the best plastic surgeon in the country himself. 

He worked in one of the best hospitals and befriended some of the best neurosurgeons, general surgeons, paediatrics surgeons, neonatal surgeons and cardiothoracic surgeons. One of them was Jake Sim who was known to hold magic in the palms of his hands and worked miracles while suturing heart muscles. He was his best friend, they grew up around each other's families, went to the same medical school together, completed the same internship and worked at Seoul National University Hospital together. He watched him reach all the important milestones in his life; high school and college graduation, his first day of work, his wedding where he was the best man and buying his first house.

But neither of them was prepared for Ari’s death.

Sunghoon supposed the loss was also somewhat of a milestone for his best friend. Though he wasn’t there when he found out about her death, he was there while he planned the funeral and picked out the flower bouquets to hang around the coffin. He was there, by his side, holding his hand and crying with him while the coffin was buried six feet into the ground. He was taking care of him until he could stand on his feet again, made him breakfast, forced him to brush his teeth and shower and go back to work to save more lives.

What he wasn’t there for was when he made his decision to quit surgery, pack his bags and move to some small town in Italy. Jake left a note for everyone to read before he disappeared. It gave them instructions on how they shouldn’t look for him or worry about him while he would try living the life his wife dreamt of having. He contacted no one, ignoring every phone call or text sent his way and deleting all kinds of social media. Some believed he had moved on and started a new chapter of his life while the other eccentrics proposed that he was kidnapped and could be dead in a ditch somewhere.

One year after he absconded, Sunghoon received a text from an unknown number.

“I’m in Positano,” it said. “You should come and visit.”

In the eight years that Jake spent in Italy, Sunghoon visited him four times. The first time he went, he was hurriedly packing his bags and asking his girlfriend at the time to book flight tickets to a place neither of them had heard of before. When he saw him waiting for him at the airport, he stomped toward him and slapped him, cussed profanities in his face and cried about how he was alone for a year without anybody to drink and wallow with. Jake stood there and took everything that was thrown at him until silence ensued and they jumped at each other to share a hug. He showed him around the small town, welcoming him into the small apartment he rented and introducing a whole new world of tourist attractions to be discovered. Before he left, he told him about his hopes of opening a bakery or a bookstore.

The second time he visited, Jake’s café was under construction. He helped pick out the furniture and the paint to be sprayed on the walls. They spent hours in the kitchen, Jake whipping up pastries, various baked goods and drinks while Sunghoon acted as the judge and helped finalise the menu. They drove around neighbouring towns and cities to do more shopping; clothes, useless trinkets, snacks, groceries and raw ingredients for Sunghoon to take home as souvenirs and for Jake to use for his business. Along the way, they went fishing, swam in crystalline waters until they could watch the sunset and partied their night in a club called Music on the Rocks.

On his third visit, Caffè Della Bellezza was booming with business with two other employees and Jake had shifted his house to an apartment towering on the upper floors of the café. The building he resided in was almost ancient with daffodil yellow paint chipping off its walls and a couple of windows cracked with shattered glass and no amount of renovations could make it look modern. But its beauty resided in the myriad flowers and vines growing through the cracks in the bricked walls and the ravishing apartments it held within itself. Jake would close the café before sundown every day so he could take Sunghoon to explore the remaining untouched territory of Positano. They discovered pretty little restaurants for Jake to take inspiration from and roamed a worn-down archaeological museum where Sunghoon took pictures to update on his flourishing Instagram account.

Sunghoon’s fourth visit to Positano was when the real story would start.

A Salty Mediterranean breeze diffused into the café while Sunghoon sat on a table closest to the cashier where Jake stood and accepted payments from customers who drove from various parts of Italy to taste his famously baked and decorated cakes and pastries. What made his confectionery so famous was his unique implementation of Korean recipes and decorated them as minimalistic as possible and baked goods as such were hard to find in small villages. His café became one of Positano’s hidden gems and tourists that were lucky to find him usually came back the next day to place another order. Sunghoon had pitched the idea of expanding the business into an affordable restaurant and hiring a chef but Jake refused and insisted on continuing the way he was. The employees he worked with changed as years passed and currently he worked with a college student who was saving up money to buy himself a car and a high school girl that wanted to pay for surfing lessons. 

It was unusual to watch Jake use his hands to pack doughnuts and muffins into brown paper bags and boxes. His million-dollar worth of hands were once used to save lives and hold scalpels and various other surgical instruments that could fix any kind of broken heart but now he watched him waste his talents over baking, essentially, because it was the only wish of his deceased wife he knew to grant. Ari had always talked about moving to Europe after retirement and starting a small business. She could never decide exactly what she wanted to do; sometimes she would say she wanted to open an antique book store and other times she would say she wanted to open a flower shop or a bakery. Jake settled on opening a café because of Ari’s love for trying different caffeinated beverages and saccharine foods. He lived on through the memory of his wife by fulfilling her dreams.

Sunghoon was always surrounded by successful people and Jake was one of them, except he was once a surgeon; now an entrepreneur.

Sunghoon held an exceptionally large mug between his hands, the type of mugs used as props in 90s films and sitcoms, the smell of coffee mixing with salty air as he gawked at his best friend interacting with customers in fluent Italian. Living in the country for eight years would lead anyone to pick up a few words or phrases in the language but Jake could probably read old Italian poetry, accurately translate it and even critique it if he was given enough time- he had always been a linguist. Apart from growing up speaking and reading Hangul, he picked up on the English language faster than Sunghoon. Then came his sudden interest in learning Japanese after flying to Tokyo for vacation with his family and an inclination towards Latin after he stumbled upon an old piece of writing that sounded beautiful. Adding Italian to the mix, he could speak five languages in total and it was a trait of his that Sunghoon was always jealous of.

“Why don’t you visit Korea once?” Sunghoon suggested and Jake glanced at him from the corner of his eyes. “You can visit the hospital again. A lot of people have been asking about you.”

“Oh, yeah?” Jake scoffed, chuckling as he closed the cashier. “Who?”

“Well, Heeseung and Jay, obviously,” Sunghoon raised his brows and shifted his gaze upwards while he pondered. “You remember Nishimura Riki? He’s an attending neurosurgeon now. He asked about you recently.”

“You should have mentioned this when you came first,” Jake made his way to the other end of the display case, reaching for a slice of chocolate cake for his indulgence. “You’re leaving today, no need to bring this up.”

“If I brought it up earlier, would you have agreed to come back home?”

The sly smile on Jake’s face told Sunghoon that his dreams of seeing his best friend stepping foot on the grounds of their motherland would never be fulfilled. Positano, Italy was the new home that he had built over the past eight years. He knew some of the village residents like they were old friends and he was personal friends with some of his loyal customers, greeting them with hugs and even giving out free casseroles on a good day. He had a membership to the local gym and a permanent discount at some of the stalls in the flea market because the sellers were fond of his kind smile, warm greetings and baking skills. Sunghoon could probably ask him to come back to Korea as a dying wish but if his best friend decided not to attend his funeral, he would have to haunt him even in his afterlife. 

Just as Jake sat in the seat across from Sunghoon, the entry bell rang and a young woman walked in. She looked curious, looking around and admiring the ivy and wisteria decor before clearing her throat. Her eyes were wide, feet tapping around in search of something. She was a new customer, never having interacted with her before which led Jake to believe that she must have been new in town. It was hard to conclude that she was a tourist because the bohemian skirt and tank top she wore was common fashion near the coasts of Positano. She could have been the daughter of one of the merchants in the market, visiting town for vacation or she could be the girlfriend of one of the bartenders at Music on the rocks.

“Mi dispiace signora, al momento siamo chiusi!” Jake hollered and pointed to the sign hung on the glass door which read CLOSED in bold Italian.

Now, she looked confused, her brows pulling together and lips twitching upwards in an embarrassed smile. With that reaction, Jake could conclude that she was simply a hungry tourist. Her clothes were probably bought a few days ago to be worn while she explored the town and the tan visible on her skin was probably acquired after a day at the beach. Her eyes almost looked innocent while she wandered deeper into the café, holding her skirt up to not stain it with dust. 

“English?” Jake cocked his head when she stood a few feet away from him and Sunghoon.

“Yes!” Her face lit up like she just found buried treasure, smiling ear to ear. “Yes, Thank God!” She cheered, holding her hands over where her heart resided as an act of relief.

“I’m sorry but we’re closed ma’am,” Jake nodded with artificial sympathy, squinting his eyes and pursing a smile as he pointed towards the door again.

“Oh, please, just help me out a little,” she asked with longing. “I just moved into an apartment upstairs and I’ve been roaming around town trying to look for a nice place to eat but I’m lost so I thought the least I could get myself was a muffin or something.”

“You moved into this building?” He stood up, stunned by the new piece of information. “You moved into the apartment across from mine? Third floor?”

It would explain the hustle and bustle of workers cursing and the thuds of what sounded like cardboard boxes and furniture he heard the previous night. It was her that moved into the apartment across from his and it was her that one of the neighbours was discussing with him in the morning while he sold him a bagel and cappuccino. He wasn’t sure if she had bought it or rented it but regardless, she must have been wealthy because the apartments were costly, taking up a chunk of Jake’s savings when he invested seven years ago. With inflation and increasing taxes, they were more expensive now but as he looked her up and down, she didn’t seem like the snarky affluent types he was used to meeting.

“Yeah, and I’ve been starving,” she sighed. “My breakfast was a packet of chips and right now, I’m too tired to walk around more to find a restaurant. So, can you please just help a girl out?” She might as well be begging as she clasped her hands together and shook them in front of herself, expression contorting into hope.

“Yeah, Jake. Help her out.”

Sunghoon was looking at her from over his shoulder, his lips slightly parted and eyes glazing over as he looked her up and down and examined her features. He was judging her through the eyes of a plastic surgeon, tracing the curve of her nose, sharp corners of her eyes and heights of her cheekbones with his gaze. So far, of the many women he had met in Italy, this mystery girl was probably the most attractive he had laid eyes on with the perfect height and splendid smile. 

Upon noticing where his attention was, Jake leaned toward Sunghoon’s ear. “You’re leaving today,” he reminded him with a look of warning in his eyes. Then, he stood straight and offered his new customer a welcoming grin. “Fine. What can I get you?”

The pair walked towards the display case, standing on either side while she closely examined the array of pastries to pick from. She squinted her eyes as she read the labels of each dish, two fingers holding her chin and lips folded into her mouth. “I’ll have a slice of pecan pie here,” she started. “But can you pack two slices of chocolate cake, two slices of red velvet, four blonde brownies, a pretzel, two croissants, a box of doughnuts of whatever you recommend and a baguette?”

“That’s a lot,” Jake raised his brows at the nonchalant smile on her face.

“Well, I need to stock up on something for me to eat,” she chuckled.

“You’re gonna get a lot of cavities with this much sugar.”

“It’s a risk I’m willing to take.”

With an almost sultry smile, she took her plate of pecan pie and made her way to a separate booth but Sunghoon ushered her towards him, offering to keep her company. She happily complied, ignoring the glare Jake sent their way, annoyed at Sunghoon’s advances. She gracefully sat beside him, fixing the crinkles in her skirt and pushing locks of hair away from her face. The shade of the tables closely matched her shirt and the flowers in the vase coordinated with her skirt. The braids pinned in her loose hair were close to untangling but the style made it all the more mesmerising.

“I’m Sunghoon,” he blurted while she took the first bite of her pecan pie. “And that’s Jake,” he pointed at him while he worked through her order and packed them into a parcel.

“Y/N,” she lifted her brows and chewed, an awkward smile on her face. “Nice to meet you two.”

Jake rolled his eyes but Sunghoon chuckled with glee, nodding enthusiastically. “So, what brings you here?” He asked. “A job?”

“Well, not exactly a job,” Y/N chuckled, rubbing the side of her lips with the knuckle of her pointer finger. Rings and bracelets decorated her hands, each with a different colour and made from varying materials; some with thread, some with metal and some with beads. “I’m just travelling around. I’ll study the culture here for a while and move on to the next city.”

With that, Jake's inquisitiveness peaked. “Really?” he asked with feigned indifference while filling a box of doughnuts. “Where were you before coming here?”

“Giverny, France,” she said. “I stayed there for seven months.”

“The Claude Monet Foundation, huh? So you can speak French?” He asked in awe.

“Yeah, a little bit,” she shrugged and tutted before they could continue asking her questions. “What about you guys? How long have you been staying in Positano?”

“Oh, I’m just visiting,” Sunghoon raised a finger, leaning into his chair and crossing one leg over the other.

“Eight years,” Jake said with pride.

“Impressive.”

“What are you planning on studying in Positano, anyway?” Jake pondered. “There isn’t much here. Most people would go to Rome or Sicily to study Italian cultures.”

“I know, but that isn’t the point,” she waved her fork around. “I’ll explore Positano and the towns surrounding it and to make detailed excursions, it takes time. There isn’t much that we know about small villages like these.”

“Interesting.”

The three hummed, allowing silence to settle amongst them while Y/N devoured her pecan pie and Jake finished packing the last of her order, Sunghoon observing her with squinted eyes and pouting lips. Jake brought the parcel to the table, sitting on the opposite side of the pair with a cough that attempted to clear the heavy air around them. Pedestrians carried laughter with them as they walked past the café, a group of children cycling down the road and yelling jokes in Italian that only he could understand. A freshly baked batch of cookies was waiting in the oven to be taken out and its smell overpowered the Mediterranean air.

Y/N was clueless as the two boys looked between themselves, sharing glances of concern while they judged her urgency to stuff her mouth with food. She was exaggerating when she said she was starving but she looked like a child coming out of poverty, eating food for the first time in a long time. She hummed in delight once she finished the crumbs, pushing the plate into the middle of the table as Jake wet his lips, looking between her and Sunghoon.

"I could assist you while you explore the town," he clicked his tongue over the roof of his mouth. "Sunghoon is leaving today and when he does, I could direct you to a great restaurant for dinner."

"You're leaving today?" She turned towards him with eyes of pity. "That sucks," she mused.

"I know," Sunghoon nodded, looking her up and down.

"So, what, you're gonna be like my tour guide?" She looked at Jake, pleased and grateful for whatever help she could find.

"Essentially, yes," he nodded. "We're going to be neighbours anyway. It shouldn't be too hard, I was basically a tour guide for Sunghoon."

"That'd be a great help, Jake," she smiled. "Thank you, really. I think this will be fun."

Jake wasn't sure why he was offering help, that too to a total stranger. Y/N was a sweet girl, seemingly easy to make conversation with and was venturing into an interesting field of occupation. He wondered how much money she made or if she simply lived off her father's earnings. He wondered where she studied and how many countries she had visited so far. He thought people like her, people who made a lifestyle out of travelling and learning, only existed on the internet and in fictional media but seeing a character like her in real life fascinated him. He saw the symbol of the swastika on one of her bracelets, leading him to believe that she had been to India. Then he saw the delicate carvings on her silver ring, resembling a common art form found in China. The earrings she wore reminded him of the architecture found in Egypt. Perhaps she could teach him about Giverny and all the other cities she had been to so far. He was always open to learning and history would be a new subject to touch on.

"You're a great baker, by the way. Seriously, you should start a franchise."

iii. The Difference Between a Traveller and a Tourist

Jake had forced Y/N out of bed while the moon was still hanging amongst the stars, only starting to set before the sun could rise. She was, in fact, in the middle of a pleasant dream; she had on a straw hat and a summer dress with bright yellow lemons, sitting in the middle of a meadow with a canvas in her hand and a paintbrush in the other, stroking an image of all that her eyes could meet. Bees buzzed around her and beside her sat a basket with strawberries that she had plucked on her own and mangoes as yellow as the shining sun above her. Twirling around her ankles was a white cat, fur softer than her pillow and eyes lighter than the blue sky. But Jake's voice pierced through it all, and her dream's colourful ensemble melted into the dull ivory and sesame paint of her bedroom walls, the lone painting of an unknown artist hanging opposite her bed.

It had been just over a week since Y/N had moved to the quaint town of Positano, Italy and Jake was the only friend she had made so far. And she saw him only a few hours a week. Her days were filled with unpacking her duct-taped boxes, dusting cobwebs off corners of the walls and redecorating to make her home of the next few months look presentable. When she was lazy or needed a break, she would drag herself down the rickety, wooden stairs of her building and muster into Jake's café for a snack or two. He took her to the market one day, so she could buy accessories for her home and she bought a few Persian carpets, potted plants for her balcony and a new set of chairs because the ones that were left by the owner had collapsed when she tried sitting on them. She would say her apartment looked welcoming for the time being. Perhaps it needed a few more paintings and she would dig them out of her boxes as time went on.

Y/N was used to the whole process of moving from town to country to continent by that point. But she wasn't used to switching homes. By the time she'd become comfortable in a house, it would already be time for her to move to the next and the cycle continued. She learned ways to efficiently pack her things and found tricks to learning the basics of new languages easily but never could she crack the dilemma behind learning how to be comfortable in a new set of four walls and a new bed. The only constant she had so far was the shark-stuffed toy she slept beside every night, just sitting on a corner of her bed and keeping her company with its beady eyes. 

Jake invited her for a relaxed dinner of ravioli and Italy's famous red wine the night prior. They lived right across from each other, making it all the more convenient for the both of them to visit each other back and forth. They were still getting to know each other, one trying to get comfortable in a completely new environment and the other navigating how to make a new friend. Apart from Sunghoon and the people he made neighbourly conversations with, Y/N would be the first person he felt a kind of responsibility towards when it came to taking care of her needs or teaching her the ropes of the small town they lived in. Not to mention, she was his age and he hadn't made friends with someone his age in a long time.

Dinner between them ended with a brief hug and a giddy laugh from Y/N. They had talked about their opposite taste in movies but how similar their music choices were and they pivoted to a conversation about one of her many experiences in Aswan, Egypt and how an almost invisible scar on her arm was from helping an archaeological dig near the Kom Ombo Temple. Jake didn't have anecdotes similar to hers but he did speak about his career as a cardiothoracic surgeon. When asked why he gave up the glory of surgery for baking cakes in a hamlet in the middle of Italy, he shrugged his shoulders and said he had no particular reason while pushing the leftovers of his meal back and forth with his fork.

The following night, he would enter her house with the spare key she had given him to shake Y/N out of bed and say, "Get up and get ready, it's your first day as a tourist," with a stern look on his face, a monotonous persuasion in his tone.

She groaned and turned to face away from him, reaching to find her stuffed shark but gave up when she realised it had probably fallen off the bed. "The stars are still out, Jake," she whined.

"Get ready, wear something nice," he commanded while pointing a finger at her face. "I said I would be your tour guide and I plan on keeping that promise."

By the time Y/N had freshened up and changed into something presentable, Jake was already standing in front of her door with a map and sunscreen for the journey. On their way down the stairs, he spread open the map between his hands and struggled to explain where he was taking her for the day but she pretended to listen and scanned the map to learn on her own. His voice registered as notes rather than words and then their footsteps were all that she heard as he guided her towards the coast, down many flights of stairs that were hidden in rows of trees and bushes of wisteria.

“They don’t call it the vertical town for no reason,” Jake humoured when she commented on the plethora of stairs, some worn down enough to crumble if she stepped her foot down with just enough pressure. 

“You could be kidnapping me for all I know,” she giggled when he almost slipped down a stair but quickly straightened himself with the help of a branch hanging in front of him. “I’ve known you for barely a week,” the night was only starting to end, the sky turning into a mix between blues and yellows, some stars disappearing and clouds reappearing.

“You’re right,” he grinned over his shoulder, the early rays of sun glistening across his eyes as he finally led her down the last few stairs. Holding her hand with subtle grace, he turned her towards the seaside, crystalline waters with ghosts of foam splashing against sand cleaner than Greece’s beaches. “I’m taking you to where I bury all my victims.”

She ignored the joke with a gaping mouth, eyes in awe of the visual in front of her. The sky reflected against the water, waves splashing violently against neighbouring rocks and landing softly on the coast and eventually her feet as she stepped closer. Stars glimmered above her and flickered away when she saw the rounds of a pink sun climbing up the sea- the Mediterranean Sea. The salty air frizzed her hair, her white dress following the wind and she was sure she stepped on a small cone shell but nothing could take away the serendipity in front of her. Her gape turned into an open smile, eyes hinting at a glimmer when she looked over her shoulder to find Jake admiring the view with his arms crossed and chin high, standing with pride over his discovery.

“I found this place a month after I moved here,” he smiled, strolling closer to her, languidly looking at the boulders secluding the location. “Barely anyone knows about this place or the stairs that lead here. That makes it more beautiful, doesn’t it?”

He was standing beside her now, a healthy distance between them as he stared into what looked like heaven. Y/N had seen so many beaches that she couldn’t put a number to it and she had experienced views and sights that knocked the breath out of her lungs, literally and figuratively. But it was something about the way Jake looked at the beach like he would look at an old lover or something of his past he was fond of that made the moment all the more personal and all the more confidential. His brows were slightly furrowed due to the sun and his eyes squinted, his lips pursed in a straight line and his hair struggled to stay in place despite the amount of hairspray he styled it with. Another second passed and his hands were stuffed into the pockets of his trousers and his head tilted to solemnly stare at the sand. He wiggled his toes as the water touched his feet and Y/N paid enough attention to catch the essence of a minuscule smile on his lips and the fluster in his demeanour.

“This place must mean a lot to you,” she observed out loud and his smile stretched to show his teeth. 

Jake let out a breath of a laugh and nodded, eyes not moving away from the sand. “This is where I scattered my wife’s ashes,” he kicked the sand in an almost juvenile manner, ignoring the weight of his words and the nonchalance of his tone. 

Y/N didn’t offer him a reaction but rather looked away and towards the sky that was blending into shades of orange, pink and light blues. Her lips folded inwards, swallowing the fact that her new friend- or acquaintance- was widowed. She wouldn’t know what to say and judging from his silence and refusal to shift his gaze towards her, she assumed he appreciated her lack of pity or empathy. Rather, she was still in a state of silent shock. She wanted to ask him why he hadn’t mentioned his interlude prior to their friendship or what drove him to bring her to a place deemed intimate and private to him. 

Did Sunghoon know of this place? Was this where he came to when she couldn’t find him at the café? What was his wife’s name? When would it be the right time to ask questions?

The last time Y/N had a friend share their past with her was probably two years ago while she was backpacking through raves and house parties in Goa, India. She found herself travelling with a group of passengers with the same aim as her- to party in every rave they could find. In that group of passengers, she grew close to a man with lusciously long brown hair and eyes matching the greens of the leaves surrounding them. Their companionship grew into a cliché romance and they would spend most of their midnights laying in front of a bonfire with a thin blanket covering both of their frames while they talked about things they claimed they had never told another soul. The conversations she had with him were like none other, so easily flowing between them like a boat drifting down a calm river and sometimes she feared she would never find an experience like him again. 

But here was Jake, a man she thought who lived a simple life was buried in a cloak of loss that she failed to notice; a man who had more to offer than he led on. In the split of a moment, faster than the time it would take for her to comprehend her thoughts, Jake’s coyness turned into what she perceived as reserved and independent. It was like she was meeting someone out of a tragic movie- like he was Noah from The Notebook or Rose from The Titanic.

“I’d probably want that, too, if I were her,” she hummed, crossing her arms and gulping as she shifted her weight from one leg to the other. She would be left in regret if she let the moment become awkward and if she unintentionally came off like she didn’t care by not answering. She assumed her words would hold somewhat of some significance to him. Her expression turned similar to what his was prior; squinted eyes, furrowed brows, and pressed lips added with a solemn stare. “Like you said, this place is beautiful.”

“As was she,” Jake lifted his head to look at the sea one last time to take in its glory. The beach was like the Taj Mahal to his Shah Jahan.

Jake still remembered the day he brought her ashes to the beach they stood in. It was a month after he had moved to Positano and was having terrible insomnia. The urn with her ashes stood on a shelf opposite his bed, haunting him every time he opened his eyes, reminding him of what once was- not just of his wife, but the family he left behind in Korea. So, in a desperate attempt to distract his nightmares, he found himself strolling the streets of the coastal town in cold winds. He looked up at the dark skies as though he was admiring antiques in a museum and breathed in sulphur and salty air like he was tasting cotton candy. Along the way, he had tripped and slid down a flight of stairs he had never come across before and found the enclosed, undiscovered beach he deemed to be his own. The next night, he scattered Ari's ashes in the calm waves and recalled how she always said she wanted to be as strong as the ocean currents and as deep as its trenches. 

"Let's go," Jake looked at Y/N, his brows drooping with minuscule melancholy. He stretched his hand towards her, an inviting smile driving her to step under his wing and let him guide her away from the beach.

They took the long way out and strolled for about an hour. He took her through narrow alleys where they had street food for breakfast and he took pictures of her standing under bushy vines of bougainvillaea. The orange skies turned a clear blue, sunlight shining against baskets of lemons and oranges outside grocery stalls. Salty air followed them every turn they took and Jake’s smile never left while his eyes followed Y/N’s skips on the stony pavement, her skirt swirling around her calves every time she turned to laugh with him at their conversation. He’d never seen her laugh that way; not when she was helping in the kitchen, when they were decorating her apartment or when they had dinner the previous night.

With their arms intertwined, Jake guided her up another flight of stairs painted white, rusty railings leaving hues of copper on her hands. He climbed slowly, taking her hand in his and looking back every so often to muse about the church he was taking her to. He enthused about the interior sculptures and paintings on the walls and the giant chandeliers that dangled from the ceilings and the intense wave of peace he would feel every time he stepped foot inside. She wanted to tell him she wasn’t religious but she would go along with him anyway, just to admire the architecture he preached so much.

“Chiesa di Santa Maria Assunta,” he bellowed with a smile, stretching his arms as though he was a host starting a game show. 

When they walked in, Y/N’s eyes were met with an astonishing sight. It almost felt like she had walked into a palace, a castle that once housed a lonely princess whose hobby was to fill the walls with biblical paintings. The ceiling glistened with gold and the walls were a crisp white, reminding her of the ivory marble she once admired on the Taj Mahal. Jake guided her to sit on the benches, one isolated so he could fill her in on whatever he knew of the place. 

Then, he pointed towards an old couple that sat closer to the floral shrine, telling her that they owned his favourite stall in the flea market. They sold hand-crafted toys made of wood and organic paints- Y/N couldn't fathom why he loved the stall so much, owning only one of the products they had ever made that was sitting on his showcase above his television. But then he told her that the old couple ran a toy business because their deceased grandson loved such toys and wanted to keep living in his memory. He told her that a lot of people living in Positano started businesses in memory of their loved ones- it was the beauty of the village.

“Did you open Caffè Della Bellezza for your wife?”

Jake didn’t respond, gulping to soothe his dried throat. Instead, he held her hand again, leading her to the ruins of a Roman villa. Well, they weren’t allowed to go inside due to an archaeological dig and study. It was taken over by a group of historians and Y/N wondered if she could join their team throughout her stay in Positano. The ruins were colourful, adorned with deep hues of blues, reds and yellows with symbols and artwork she was itching to decipher. Before she embarrassed him due to her excitement, Jake dragged her away, insisting that it was time for lunch.

During lunch, while she and Jake sat at a table on a Parisian balcony, Y/N thought about what it would have been like living in the Roman villa she just saw. She imagined what it would have been like living by the sea, between walls so colourfully painted and amongst a family, she imagined to be huge- she imagined herself to be one of six children of a man who travelled and was barely at home and a woman who loved to sing and read to her children. She even found an article detailing how archaeologists discovered the ruins in the early 2000s- she imagined how exciting it would have been to be part of the discovery.

She told herself that if she had time, her next goal would be to live in a beach house in the Caribbean, working with a team of marine biologists in their next deep-sea expedition. 

“Y/N?” Jake’s voice made Y/N look away from the sight looming over the balcony, levels of colourful houses and sprawling greenery more impressive than what she remembered from Lucerne, Switzerland. “What’re you thinking of?” 

She chuckled along with him, shaking her head. “Nothing, just…” she trailed off, “I’m not a tourist.”

“What?” Jake’s brows raised with confusion, tilting his head to the side and coaxing for an explanation.

“When you were waking me up, you called me a tourist,” she reminded him, a coy smile on her face as she broke off a piece of garlic bread. The warm cheese refused to split, stringing on until the chunk reached her mouth. “I’m not a tourist.”

“Oh,” Jake smiled, “My apologies. What do I call you instead?” He asked with a playful grin.

“I’d rather be called a traveller, an explorer of some sort,” she smiled back, holding her chin high with pride. “You know, someone who learns and collects memories.”

“Yeah, I gotcha,” he nodded, forking a piece of marinated shrimp and tossing it onto her plate.

“You didn’t answer my question, by the way,” she said, glancing at him through her lashes while chewing her shrimp.

Jake didn’t need to be reminded of what she was talking about, the memories of Ari never ceasing to play in the back of his head. It sent chills down his spine even, how he felt her presence throughout the day; on the beach, walking down the streets and even in church- it scared him how much Y/N reminded him of her. Like their laughs echoed each other, their excitement matching the same wavelengths. He didn’t have it in him to look at Y/N, afraid he would see the face of his wife- yes his wife, not his ex-wife or dead wife, but his wife- instead of the face of a girl he was just starting to get to know.

“Yeah,” he nodded, gulping. “It was for Ari,” and he acknowledged that, apart from Sunghoon, she was the only one he admitted that to.

iv. Basket Full of Strawberries, Mangoes and a White Ragamuffin

Jake owned a bicycle, one that was pastel green with white handles and a white wicker basket and upon discovering it, Y/N insisted that they rode around the market in them. Now, she didn’t own a bicycle so she borrowed their neighbour’s. It was the same one as Jake’s but the pastel green was replaced by a pastel pink. She promised their neighbour, a middle-aged physics teacher at the local middle school who everyone liked calling Mrs Giuliani, that she would return it by the evening. With a beaming smile on her face, giggles slipping past her teeth, she carried the bicycle down the stairs (because there was no elevator) by its handles and joined Jake on the gravelly pavement. Like a baby on a slide, she rode down the slope leading away from the cafè while screaming in joy like there was no tomorrow, Jake struggling to catch up to her no matter how hard he peddled.

Y/N had been living in the quaint village of Positano for about two and a half months now and one of the many things she loved about Positano was its weather. The skies offered various hues and shades of colours. The mornings were always blue with clear skies, rarely ever raining. The blue reflected against crystalline waters that reminded her of the time she cannonballed into Blue Lake in New Zealand wearing her favourite bikini along with a group of girls she had acquainted with in the student housing she paid for at the time. On days she didn’t come home tired from visiting the archaeological dig, she would stay up all night looking back to her time in high school. She looked back to high school because she wasn’t aware of the ticking time bomb that was her life at that point and she wondered how much longer her parents would fund her trips and when they would start begging her to come back home.

Before entering the wet market, Jake took her on a ride down the Amalfi coast, occasionally stopping to greet someone he was familiar with and introducing them to Y/N as his neighbour- nothing more, nothing less. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t feel guilty about reducing her to that when he truly looked at her as a friend, treated her like she was family and tended after her like she was his responsibility.

Just a few weeks ago, she had dragged him to the beach in the night, the same beach he had taken her to all those nights ago. She woke him up in a white bikini covered in some sort of green, knitted dress that did a terrible job at covering up her curvature and tanned skin. With her hand clasped in his, she led the way as though he wasn’t the one that introduced her to the secluded coast in the first place. She insisted on going swimming, which he was choosing against and telling her it was a bad idea. She dove into the water head first anyways, throwing her knitted coverup in his face despite his warnings of the waves being stronger in the night. The next morning, she woke up with a stuffy nose and hoarse mouth and Jake spent the rest of the week cradling her back to health- making her chicken soup for breakfast, reminding her to take her medicines and lulling her to sleep.

“I don’t know what I’d do without you,” she had told him in her groggy slumber. Her hair was strewn across her pillow and her eyes could barely stay open due to the Aspirin. As Jake left her side on the bed, her fingers found his, willing him to stay with a whine. He could only smile, bidding her a good sleep before he left to sleep on her couch.

The pair eventually found themselves riding their bicycles out of the market, her wicker basket filled with cartons of ruby-red strawberries and bags of sunny yellow mangoes. When Jake asked her why she needed more fruit than he- a cafè owner- did, she insisted that she was going to take him on a picnic. Somewhere along the way, while he stopped to pick up a few lemons, Y/N came across a Ragamuffin, its hair as white as snow and eyes as blue as the clear sky spanning above her head.

“No,” Jake huffed when he saw her picking up the stray cat, holding it close to her cheek while he dropped his lemons into his basket. “No way,” he stomped towards her.

“What? Not a cat person?” Y/N grinned, avoiding his gaze and raking her nails through the cat’s fur. “I think I want to keep him,” she joked.

“You’re not allowed into my house or cafè. Ever again.”

Seeing her giggle with the Ragamuffin reminded Jake of his own dog. When he left Korea, he left Layla, his Cream Border Collie, with his elder brother. She passed away just a couple of years later and that would be the first time he ever had a reason to pick up a call from his hometown. He hadn’t talked to his brother since then and nor did he bother to contact his parents. He still had a smaller version of his family photo, framed above his television set which he stared at whenever he questioned his decision on absconding- he and his brother had their arms wrapped around each other, his parents seated in front of them with Layla drooling on their laps. His house, his big and beautiful childhood home stood behind them as a blurred background.

When Jake was still in middle school, his parents would tell him stories of how they met. It was a clichè anecdote, one where his father met his mother in front of an old cinema theatre on a Saturday and took two more weekends to pass for him to finally ask her out. When they got married, they built their house, the one Jake and his brother grew up in, each nook and cranny painted with memories of their mischief. He imagined that when he would meet his wife, he would bring her to his childhood house and they would all live together as a happy extended family. But instead, he lived in an apartment much more expensive with his wife until she was alive and now, he was living somewhere on the Amalfi coast, taking care of his vagrant neighbour.

His gaze followed her as she parked her bicycle and carried the Ragamuffin to a fountain located in the middle of the market. He was suddenly reminded of that one scene from Beauty and the Beast where Belle was sitting in a similar-looking fountain with a herd of sheep trying to eat the book in her hand. Y/N wore a similar outfit, in fact; a baby-blue sundress with a matching bow that pinned her wavy locks of hair away from her face. Her lips stretched in a toothy smile as she cooed at the cat who was camouflaged into a bundle of cotton that occasionally purred back. Slowly, Jake stepped towards her with his hands stuffed in the pockets of his shorts, tilting his head at the sight in awe as he towered over the girl and the cat he was sure she would take home.

“What are you gonna name him?” 

He smiled at her the way he once did at his wife. He smiled at her the way he used to smile at Ari while she played with Layla. He was reminded of how her dark hair would fall over her shoulders, her striped dress shirt exposing a bra strap and her collarbone. The curtains would ghost over her head, then retreat, leaving little to no space for sunlight to bathe the moment. Jake would capture his two favourite girls in his film camera with an equally bright smile. He still had those pictures and videos hidden somewhere in his apartment, behind dusty cabinets and under a pile of myriad other cardboard boxes. He pondered looking for them- it certainly wouldn't hurt.

“Oh, I can’t name him,” Y/N shook her head coyly. “I’d get attached.”

The Ragamuffin left her arms when she gave it another kiss, strutting into the house of a random shop owner- the cat’s owner. Chuckling, the pair rode back home in a hurry. Y/N returned the bike to Mrs Giuliani while Jake prepared a picnic basket with freshly baked bread from the cafè and the fresh fruit they had just purchased. Containers filled with homemade jam and butter were stowed on the other side of the picnic basket, wrapped up in a white and red chequered picnic mat. By the time she was back, he was holding up the picnic basket with a smile on his face that said surprise!

“I want to paint,” she declared and Jake was made aware of the skittish ideas and requests she’d been throwing around the past few days. What had started with midnight swimming spanned into learning how to play the guitar that stood in the corner of Jake’s bedroom when she told him she’d never had an interest in playing instruments, demanding to help make new recipes for the cafè, reading all history books of the Amalfi coast she could find in the local book store, making pasta from scratch, touring every single museum near their parameters and today, it was having a picnic and painting. Before Jake could ask about her random bursts of impatient interest and spur-of-the-moment decisions, she interrupted him. “Pack wine,” she crooned and disappeared into her apartment to gather her paints and canvases.

Jake waited for her near his car; his car which was red, an old Italian model which made Y/N wonder how much earnings the man truly had saved up in his bank accounts. Perhaps he had a secret side business going on where he could cook up coke in his kitchen and sell packets of it to teenagers near the beach. It would explain all the times he would lock himself up in his apartment, asking her to take care of his cafè and leaving her with no explanation for his absence. Chuckling at her far-fetched thoughts, she stowed small canvases, which were the size of Jake’s palms, and paint supplies in his trunk and hopped into the passenger seat.

She wasn’t sure where he was driving them. She didn’t particularly care either. Anywhere with a lot of grass and clouds, she said and he was at her service. To soothe her own cinematic urge, she made him wear sunglasses along with her and rolled the windows down so the wind could ruffle their hair. Her arm swung out of the window while she sang along to old English music and Jake laughed at her and told her to be careful. He had his hand near her leg at all times, just in case she slipped while peeking her head out the window, sunlight falling on her face. 

Around an hour later, Jake announced that they reached their destination. He carried the basket of food; she carried the art supplies and they strode up a small hill to reach the greenest patch of grass Y/N had seen in Positano. Jake set up the picnic mat and their cutlery while she ran to the end of the plateau to awe at the view. The town looked like something out of a cartoon and she could see brightly coloured cars, that looked like ants, driving down the Amalfi coast. If she put in the effort, she could probably find the cafè somewhere near the secluded corners of the town, furthest from the coasts and beaches. 

“Y/N,” he called out for her with his hand shading his forehead, squinting his eyes from the sun. “I cut some of the mangoes, we can eat now,” he said and she nodded at the view before turning towards him.

She folded her legs and fixed her dress as she settled opposite of him, one hand grabbing a fork and the other holding the small canvas to start her painting. The sweet nectar of the mango melted in her mouth and Jake stared at her while her expressions contorted into all the joys that food could offer. He filled their glasses with wine, making sure to give her less because her alcohol tolerance was low.

“What do you want to paint?” He asked, forcing himself to smile softer than before.

“What do you want to paint?’ She countered.

“What, I’m supposed to do this with you?”

“Well, obviously!” She chuckled as their voices raised. “I didn’t bring two of these for no reason!” She pointed at the extra canvas sitting beside him.

“I’m terrible at painting!”

“But it’ll be fun,” she whined.

“Hey, you literally lived in Giverny. You probably learnt how to paint like Claude Monet,” he pointed his finger at her and her laughter grew louder. “This isn’t fair game.”

“This isn’t a competition!”

And so, the pair painted, ate fruits and confectioneries from the cafè and talked more about Y/N’s adventures abroad. She told him about the time she went to Petra, Jordan and rambled on about how she wished she could create architecture as beautiful as what you find there. She told him about the old couple she met there who let her stay in their spare room until the end of her stay. They would make her breakfast every morning and tell her to have a good day and to come back home safely without a scratch. She told him how she could barely understand what they would say sometimes but the care they showed her was enough of an excuse for communication.

When the sun started to set, Jake insisted on driving home. He wouldn’t admit it to her but it was because he didn’t want the chilly wind to make her ill again- he was worried. While he cleaned up the dirty plates and plastic spoons, she compared his painting to hers. His looked like a child’s drawing compared to hers- green filling one half of the canvas and blue filling the other. On the corner was his poor attempt to draw the sun and a purple butterfly. Hers was rather detailed, clouds blending into the light blue atmosphere and each blade of glass stroked with various hues of green. She even painted a little of the town she could make out. After all, it was the least she could do after taking painting classes in Giverny.

Jake stood to his feet before offering Y/N his hand. They walked to the car with their arms linked and the stumble in her steps and giggle in her voice told him that she was already tipsy with just a few glasses of wine. During the car ride back, she laughed at everything he said and stared at the childish painting he made of the landscape. She looked at him with doe and glassy eyes when she spoke and his heart would skip a beat. He kept his hand on her knee while he entertained conversation, eyes fixed on the road ahead and clenching his jaw when she suggested they have dinner with more wine. Where did she get the habit of getting drunk on wine, he thought to himself, probably France.

When they reached Jake’s apartment, Y/N waited at the dinner table and he disappeared into the kitchen to whip up carbonara pasta. He joked about how she learnt so many skills throughout her years of travelling but could never bother to learn how to cook. She retaliated, saying he could never do half the things she could and he laughed in defeat. The sounds of boiling water and sizzling oil filled the air while her gaze looked around his apartment like she hadn’t seen it a million times before. Her feet bounced excitedly while she thought about food and helped herself to the leftover wine on the table.

She wasn’t even sure when they started eating but she did remember Jake’s warning of controlling her wine intake. She didn’t listen to him, of course. She never usually did. Apart from the fact that her favourite language was Greek and her favourite country to live in was China, if there was anything Jake learned about her, it was that she lived everyday like it was a new experience. He would never be the one to keep her from that- he didn’t dream of it. There was a point in his life where he wished to live like her, too- to seize the day knowing there would be no regrets and no repercussions for his actions. She would watch the movie, even if it had a bad rating; and she would climb the mountain, even if it was too steep; and she would kiss the person in front of her, even if her nerves were on the brink of stopping her.

Jake wasn’t sure who started it, being intoxicated himself. He remembered guiding her to his couch with his hands on her waist and her laughter echoing in his ears. He remembered her holding the sides of his face, the tips of their noses hovering over each other. He remembered holding her hips and crumpling her dress around her thighs and he remembered her fingertips trickling down his crisp dress shirt. 

He told himself that the rest was history.

His hand, once as steady as a rock, was shaking as he cupped the side of her cheek. His fingertips caressed her skin and his thumb pressed on her neck, feeling her heartbeat pulse in rhythm to his. Her hand reached for his and he felt her explore the dips and crevices of his skin, drawing circles and squares as if to encourage his actions. His eyes hooded as his head tilted, breath faltering as he slowly crooned his neck towards her face. His breath fanned her mouth and she instinctively closed her eyes when she felt his lips on hers.

Jake wasn’t sure what he was expecting but he felt an unfamiliar warmth in her presence. He hadn't kissed a woman in years and to feel Y/N’s skin under his touch, her body under his control was like living in a fever dream. He didn’t bother moving away, instead holding her waist tighter and pressing his lips harder onto hers. With a sharp inhale, he was pulling her closer and coaxing her mouth open. He could feel the way her jaw moved as she followed his lips, chasing his comfort while he embraced her foreign company. 

He felt her fingers on the angle of his jaw, sliding their way towards his chin, then down his neck until she found the buttons of his shirt. He allowed it. Though he didn’t understand what he was feeling at that moment, he allowed her palms to explore the crevices of his chest and he allowed his hand to roam beneath her dress and on the flesh of her thighs being pressed together. She squirmed under his touch, moaning into his mouth and pushing herself closer to him until he dragged her onto his lap and held her hips against his. Her hands roamed his hair and he wondered if she could feel the layer of sweat that formed on the nape of his neck. His hands climbed up her back, fingers sliding under the straps of her dress to slip them off her shoulders and when she didn’t stop him, tilting her head to kiss him further, he pulled down her zipper.

When his lips parted from hers, she whined, snapping her eyes open and taking in the sight of Jake dipping his head to let his tongue roam her neck. While he drew warm circles with his tongue, she threw her head back and sighed with parted lips, asking for more as he circled his arms around her waist. One hand found itself around her throat, the other being guided down to her hips and up her thighs. He didn’t know what prompted him to smirk but he chuckled into her neck at her desperation, her hips grinding just above his crotch.

Kissing down her neck, each kiss slower than the last, he found himself grazing her collarbones with his lips. He pulled her dress further down her chest, a cool wind bringing goosebumps to her skin. She was whimpering for him, moaning his name as though it would make him quicken the pace but it was not part of his plan. Her nipples perked up as he kissed the valley of her breasts, his right hand pinching her right nipple and his left moving further up her thighs, fingers teasing sensitive skin.

“Jake, please…”

As it became more apparent to him that it was her voice moaning his name; Y/N pleading for him to move faster, the thought only urged him more. He was drowning in the curves of her body, the weight of her on him becoming the only important thing in the room. The silence of the night wasn’t as lonely as he remembered, the sheets of his bed having another memory to remember. When she slid his shirt off his shoulders, his guilt disappeared and he allowed his hands to roam further, his infatuation to grow stronger.

v. The Romance of Certain Decorated Cakes and Mysteries Unknown

It was early in the morning when Jake woke up. The space beside him occupied by Y/N, her back facing him. He ignored the buzzing of his phone for a moment, reaching for her waist and kissing her shoulder blade with his cushiony lips. She stirred in her sleep, parting her lips and letting out a sigh before settling against his chest. The sunlight that filtered through the blinds covering his window made patterns across her cheek, the parts of her skin that weren't covered by the duvet spanning with goosebumps. He smiled, lips barely pulling upwards as he buried his face in the crook of her neck and groaned when he reached for his phone under the pillow. 

“Hello?” he grumbled, pressing his phone against his cheek.

“Jake?” Sunghoon’s voice echoed through the speaker and Jake rolled his eyes, willing himself out of bed.

“It’s so early, Sunghoon,” he grumbled while struggling to wear his pants.

“Well, I’m on a small break so I thought I’d call and check up on you-,” he paused. “Are you putting on pants?”

“Yeah?”

“But you don’t sleep naked.”

“You’re creepy, has anyone ever told you that?” Jake pressed his phone between his shoulder and cheek, zipping up his pants and sauntering into the living room with his eyes squeezed shut and his nose scrunched in annoyance.

“You sound different,” Sunghoon pointed out before he let out a loud gasp. “You fucked, didn’t you?”

“You’re being ridiculous-”

“You fucked that girl!” Sunghoon continued to exclaim. “Y/N, was it?”

“Sunghoon-”

“Tell me everything, you bastard,” he clamoured. “How was it?”

“My God. Not everyone goes around telling their friends about their sexual endeavours-”

“So you fucking admit it!”

“Aish, it’s six in the morning and this is what you called me for? Seriously, you’re annoying me-”

“I knew something would happen! You wouldn’t shut up about her when I asked how it was going with her-”

“This is turning into a kindergartener’s conversation.”

Jake pinched the bridge of his nose while continuing to listen to his best friend ramble. But then he heard soft footsteps, the wood flooring creaking before Y/N appeared at the entrance of his bedroom and he hurriedly hung up the call. He wondered how much she heard, but it wouldn’t make a difference since she didn’t speak Korean. Did she speak Korean?

Y/N stood there with his shirt around her body, a coy smile on her face as she looked him up and down. “I don’t know where my clothes are…”

Jake’s lips widened into a toothy smile, slowly stepping towards her and cupping her cheeks with his hands. As he leaned in to kiss her forehead, her hands wrapped around his wrists, their eyes closing to savour the moment. The kiss lingered, their breaths syncing as she melted into his embrace. Neither of them knew if this was natural or not but they enjoyed it, arms wrapped around one another as if shielding each other from all the bad in their worlds.

For a split second, he almost thought of Ari. All those years ago, the morning after their first night together, she had walked out of the bedroom in the same manner- his shirt hanging off her shoulders, messy hair framing her face and an almost embarrassed smile spread across her lips as she laid eyes on him for the first time after a milestone in their relationship. He would be lying if he said Ari wasn’t the first person he thought of when he saw Y/N sleeping beside him and he would be lying if he said he didn’t remember his times with his wife while it was his neighbour he was making love to. A part of him almost felt guilty for comparing the two women, so independently different on their own- but in that moment, while he hovered over Y/N and her hooded eyes in the sensual darkness of his room, he swore what he felt for her was the same as what he felt around Ari.

“Everything alright?” She mumbled into his chest.

“Yeah,” he breathed, pulling away from her and pushing stray strands of hair away from her face. She smiled at him, eyes glistening under morning rays. “That was Sunghoon being annoying.”

Humming, she pressed her forehead against his chest and he instinctively wrapped his arms around her. His chin settled on her head and he could feel her nuzzling her forehead further into his chest like a cat asking its owner for attention. He felt himself zoning in and out of consciousness, thoughts about the night before swarming his head, a plethora of questions unanswered. As real as she felt in his arms, the more transparent she became in his thoughts, the ghost of her remaining when he wondered what exactly knew about her- so much, yet so little. He held her closer, chin digging into her hair, thinking that she would disintegrate in the filtering sunlight if he didn’t hold her any tighter- the way Peter Parker did in Tony Stark’s arms.

If there was one thing he hated about living on the Amalfi coast, it was having to live with longer days because the sun rose earlier. In the beginning, he had loved having to start his days at the brink of the morning, going for runs and spending an hour in the gym before going about his day. He felt like he was in one of those ‘my morning routine’ videos on YouTube, living a life so healthy and aesthetic. But then he opened Caffè Della Bellezza and his mornings were filled with tables covered in flour and icing, freshly cut fruits and hundreds of mugs of filtered coffee. The gym would go unvisited for weeks and even if he would find the time, he’d be too tired to go. So he started eating a more controlled diet as to not gain too much weight. With Y/N in his life now, he was walking around town and driving more than usual. He felt like that was a workout in itself and he started to realise the realities of his age.

“Y/N?” He mused. “I need to get the café ready.”

“Yeah,” she mumbled and peeled herself away from him. Her arms loosely hung at her sides, gaze focused on her feet. It almost looked like she was squirming under his gaze and his smile grew wider as he realised he had never seen her this way.

“Join me in an hour?” 

“Yeah,” she nodded. 

He wasn’t sure if he was allowed to but he chased for her lips anyway. Slowly, his neck craned and his head tilted to peck her smiling mouth. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t miss kissing. Just the act ofit, to feel that intimate and safe with someone else, to feel another pair of lips mould with his own in harmony… he almost forgot how it felt like. So, he shamelessly kissed her more while she giggled into his lips and asked why he seemed so different all of a sudden, so lively after the night before. 

Y/N eventually disappeared into her apartment and Jake got ready to open the café for the day. He put extra effort into his outfit and styling his hair but he wouldn’t dare admit that it was because of her, the girl next door, his neighbour. His world, until a few months ago, was a slice of peace and solitude. Now with her, he was in bliss, a phenomenon he didn’t think would ever occur in his life since Ari’s passing. He supposed second chances were something life offered. Maybe this was destiny’s way of telling him that he didn’t have to spend the rest of his life alone.

When he walked into his café, he sped into the kitchen and pulled his phone out of his back pocket. Sunghoon had left him four missed calls by then. Fingers pinching the bridge of his nose, Jake called him back and waited for his call to be accepted.

“Yo!” Sunghoon responded. “You dare hang up on me!”

“Wouldn’t be the first time, ‘Hoon,” Jake shook his head. “What’s up?”

“Oh, no. You don’t get to do that.”

“Do what?”

“Change the topic.”

“We didn’t even start a topic-”

“Tell me about Y/N! Tell me what the hell happened-”

“You’re annoying me again-”

“How’d it start? How was it? How do you feel-”

“Sunghoon, you’re turning thirty-nine soon. Stop acting like a frat boy.”

“How dare you bring my age into this,” Sunghoon feigned an offended gasp.

“Get over it,” Jake chuckled, shaking his head. He stood in the space between his giant oven and freezer, one hand bent to keep his phone to his ear and the other dangling at his side. He cooly sauntered around until he got to a counter still dusted with specs of flour from the day before. His finger swiped across the cool surface, collecting the dust and flour of the pad of his finger and dusting it away. “I feel fine, Sunghoon.”

“Oh, yeah?” Sunghoon hummed. If Jake listened close enough, he could hear his footsteps. He imagined Sunghoon walking down the blue halls of Seoul National University Hospital, the echoes all too familiar to him. His coat was probably hanging off his arm and his hair was probably covered in those horrid blue surgeon caps that made everyone look oddly unattractive. “Nothing special?”

“Well, yeah,” Jake trailed off. “It’s not that it wasn’t special. I’m not really sure what to call it.”

Sunghoon hummed and Jake could hear the clatter of metal- scalpels falling into a metal plate, probably. He heard more footsteps in the background now, along with the beeping of phones and bellows of announcements from large speakers- the hospital’s reception. “Well… what do you feel for her?”

“Are you trying to psychoanalyse me or what?” Jake chuckled again, leaning his back against the counter and crossing his arm across his chest. 

“Can you blame me?” Sunghoon defended. “I haven’t heard you talk about another woman in eight freaking years. As your best friend, I’m the most excited to hear something like this.”

Jake laughed at his words. It almost sounded like they were still in high school, acting like the biggest struggle on Earth was going through a breakup. “I’m sure my parents would be happier,” he offered.

“When was the last time you talked to them?”

“I’m not sure… it’s been a while.”

“Your mother misses you, you know?”

“You keep in touch with them, huh?”

“Obviously, Jake. At least someone’s gotta tell them you’re still alive.”

The pair fell into synchronised silence. Jake found himself relishing in the background noises the call had to offer- nurses yelling across the room to each other, the beeping of automated doors, the clanking of surgical equipment and voices that sounded familiar. He swore he heard Doctor Lee Heeseung hollering to Sunghoon for something he couldn’t quite make out. He felt his heart skip a beat, bile filling his throat at the thought of the hospital. He still remembered the names of all the interns that used to study under him. He wondered if they still worked there or if they took up other offers.

Then, he kept his phone on speaker and placed it in the corner of the countertop. “Do you not have surgeries to complete?” Jake called as he moved around to fetch a bag of flour. He grunted lifting the heavy sack, its weight thudding when it hit the counter.

“No, I’m relatively free for the day,” Sunghoon’s voice sounded distant, as though he was focusing on something else. Then he heard papers rustling and assumed he was going through some clinical report. “I might go home early.”

“When was the last time you took a day off?”

“So long. You of all people know getting a day off would take a miracle,” Sungoon groaned. “Someone or the other comes in to get a rhinoplasty at the last second. I can perform those procedures with my eyes closed now.”

“Right,” Jake cleared his throat and poured half a batch of flour onto the counter. “Y/N’s been helping out at the café these days.”

“Oh, yeah?” Sunghoon mused. “You guys having fun?”

“Yeah,” Jake nodded confidently, without hesitation. “She’s been insisting on helping me make a new menu.”

“You seem to really like her.”

“I care about her, yes.”

“You don’t know what you feel, do you?”

Jake’s silence was enough for an answer. He wasn’t sure what he could label his emotions as. Did he like her? He supposed so. He wouldn’t have slept with her if he didn't and he wouldn’t allow her smile to replace Ari’s memories. But was like a word too naive and simple to use for what he felt? He was fond of her, that he knew he could say. If one asked him what the difference between the two emotions was, he wouldn’t know how to explain it. He cared for her, he made sure she was safe at all times and recently, he couldn’t seem to say no to her. So did he like her? Did he love her? Or was she just Ari’s ghost, a reflection he was looking too far into?

“I’m just scared, I suppose.”

“Well, Jake,” Sunghoon started. “As your best friend, as someone that’s watched you grow up, I’m telling you that there really is nothing you can be afraid of.”

“But what if I get too invested and lose her too?”

Sunghoon paused, gulping when he realised the mistake in his words. “She’s gonna move in a few months, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Where is she going?”

“Not sure,” Jake lazily drew shapes into the pile of flour in front of him. “She said she didn’t decide yet.”

“Ask her to come to Korea,” he suggested. “You can fly back here with her, we can show her around the country. Maybe I can finally take a holiday-”

“Sunghoon, it’s gonna take more than that for me to come back there. You know that.”

“Right,” Sunghoon sighed in defeat. “What can you do then?”

“I guess I’ll just have to make the most of it.”

“Yeah, atta boy,” Sunghoon encouraged and gained another chuckle from Jake. “Just think of it as an experience.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Jake rolled his eyes. “Whatever. I’m sure it’ll be fine.”

“Yeah, exactly. The next few months will be fun. Just savour it.”

The entry bell rang through all the corners of the café and Jake peered through the glass screen to see Y/N and his two employees walking in. Not needing an explanation, Sunghoon bid him goodbye and told him to have a nice day. Jake shoved his phone into his pocket as the three entered the kitchen with drowsy eyes and haphazardly styled clothes. Y/N, however, sauntered in wearing a lavender sundress made of lace and the finest cotton. It took Jake in awe, looking her up and down in her outfit.

“What is it?” She asked. “Don’t look at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like that,” she repeated, pointing her finger to his face.

“You need to be more specific, aein,” he grinned, bending to lean closer to her. His hands weaved together behind his back and he felt like a bird soaring through Positano’s clear skies when she smiled at him.

“Like I’m the only person in the world who matters.”

Jake stood straight again, clearing his throat and looking away. The two employees, whom he affectionately liked to call the kids, were already preparing a batch of dough for the cakes. He and Y/N stood there awkwardly, scratching the back of their necks and looking around to see what they could do to distract themselves. Well, they had a lot of options but simply chose not to busy themselves. 

“What does aein even-”

“Wanna learn how to decorate cakes?”

Y/N spent the day in the café with a plethora of different icing colours in piping bags that Jake helped her to prepare splayed beside her. They looked like a pack of Faber-Castell colour pencils, ready to be used by a toddler to colour inside the lines of a drawing that was terribly made. She practised on cylindrical plastic at first, eyes narrowing on whatever design she wanted to create. While she didn’t even finish a quarter of her target design, inspiration taken from the internet, the day fast-forwarded behind her and her stance would still be the same- back hunched over a plastic cake, elbows resting on the counter and hands nimbly moving around the thin tip of the piping bag. The sun would set and eventually the moon rose, but she was so determined, nothing distracted her until Jake shook her shoulders and chuckled at her reach to create designs too intricate for someone that never even touched a spatula.

“How about you start with something simpler?” He offered the next day, more plastic cakes lined up on the counter while the kids ran the café and made the drinks for the customers. He taught her how to ice a cake first, to create a flat surface with a substance made purely of sugar, tooth-rotting material that she couldn’t stop licking off the tips of her fingers. When she mastered the art, he taught her how to navigate a piping bag and he explained to her which tip to use while creating specific designs. 

“How do you write with this shit?”

“Oh, aein, it’s too early for you to learn all that.”

He taught her how to create ombrés first, blending in two shades of her favourite colours, green and purple, while guiding her hands with his. He breathed down her neck while he focused on the colours with her, hair brushing across her cheek when she told him she wanted to recreate the sunset. He kissed her cheek, lips chasing hers for a moment, rays of sunlight accompanying their laughter before he told her to attempt it on her own. She continued piping hues of yellows, oranges, purples and blues, this time onto a real cake, for maybe two hours, the movements in her wrists so minuscule and precise that she was impressed by herself. And when she was done, he pulled her into another kiss, dipping her with his arms circled around her waist and twirling her around the kitchen. He piped on a crescent moon and a few stars in white and revelled in the pride exploding in his chest. A mother eventually bought it for her daughter’s eighth birthday. 

Soon after that, Y/N moved on to learning the more fun stuff- making roses and cartoon characters out of icing and whipped cream alone. Jake first taught her how to make her own whipped cream and how she could infuse various flavours into them, ranging from cotton candy to pumpkin spice. Then, she was using Pinterest as an inspiration to write the English alphabet in various fonts and sizes. She even learnt how to design three-dimensional flowers… It took Jake about a day to teach her the tricks in perfecting the art of icing. At a point, it had turned into a game of who can waste more ingredients by throwing them at each others’ faces. They had to close up shop early to clean up the mess they made.

By the end of two weeks, she could create cakes with intricate designs of animals, flowers, leaves, mandalas- anything the customers wanted. She even iced a cake to mimic Claud Monet’s The Water Lily Pond. Her cakes sold for higher prices, of course, as Jake marketed them as limited editions and it took way too much time and effort for her to finish decorating a small batch. Caffè Della Bellezza’s profits drove up in that period of time and he would treat her to fancier lunches and dinners when they would go out- out on dates, as he liked to think. He supposed he never asked the question officially, but just her presence made him content enough.

A little while later, Jake offered to teach her how to use and make fondant. She found that working with it was much easier than making it- it was like playing with clay. A lot of the time, she would make pandas and penguins with different coloured fondants and design her cakes accordingly. When he wasn’t busy, Jake would watch her process, observing the way her palms rolled around the piece of confectionery and how she would smile when she was satisfied with a final design. Though she was an amateur at best and probably wouldn’t use the skill once she left Positano, he’d like to think it was like watching a master in the making.

It was after another night at her favourite restaurant that she stopped coming out of her apartment as much. They had slept together that night, much like most other nights where they would find themselves tangled in each other's limbs and wrapped up in his duvet. But this time, she complained of a headache and refused to come downstairs to help in the café. Jake wanted to keep his insecurities aside and just be worried for her but he couldn’t help but wonder if he had done something to upset her or push her away. Many girls from his youth had blown off dates with him by using headaches as an excuse. However, it would be unfair to compare Y/N with people from his past. 

The less time Y/N spent in the café, the less lively the atmosphere became. It was probably just him that felt that way. Sales were still high, despite the disappearance of Y/N’s cake designs. The kids would still work and tend to customers with a smile and his regulars would still offer him their routined compliments on his looks and talents. Nothing seemed to have changed except for her presence.

The first night he crept into her apartment to check on her after her episode of a never-ending headache, he found her laying on her couch with an opened bottle of pain-relief tablets on the table and a heat pack stuck to her forehead. He had tried waking her up for dinner but she grumbled and turned to face away from him, complaining that she just wanted to sleep. Jake pursed his lips and squeezed himself into the little space left on the couch, hugging her to sleep. He found no reason to be concerned, especially since she woke up feeling just fine, claiming that her headache could have been due to overworking herself.

He only started getting worried when her mood started to diminish. The adventurous and restless girl he was so accustomed to was draining out of her, her smile declining by the day. She would spend more time in her apartment sleeping than going outside and she chose to speak less to save her energy. When he kissed her, she wouldn’t make him chase for her like she used to. Instead, she would peck his lips and offer him a tired smile. Her skin started to pale and the life in her eyes started draining into dark circles. Her fingers were bonier than he remembered and her hands would start shaking when lifting a glass of water. 

She had also started spending more time on her laptop. Well, at least that was what it looked like because whenever he was with her, she was typing away on her laptop, claiming she had to write about her time in Positano and detail her experiences. She would ask Jake about little details of the town and would confirm timelines but other than that, there wasn’t much conversation. She would be wrapped in a blanket, back leaning against the headboard while tiny letters on her laptop reflected in her eyes. 

She would be so engrossed in her work that she would refuse to even eat or get out of bed to shower. Jake would feed her and carry her to the bathroom at times like these. He would even help her shower because sometimes, she’d be too weak to stand up on her own, mumbling that she was too tired or sleepy. There would be times when he’d find her sitting in the tub, hugging her knees to her chest in tears and he’d have to guide her out of the bathroom and dress her. Yet, she refused to tell him why she was in mystery.

“I just want you to tell me so I can help you,” he would say. But she would chew her lips with tears welling in her eyes and she would shake her head as an answer.

When he insisted on taking her to the local hospital, she refused and would lock herself in her room where he assumed she just slept some more.

From what he remembered from his days as being a doctor, a cardiothoracic surgeon at that, he was taught to never ignore the little symptoms because they could be the beginning of something terminal. What he observed in Y/N could be many things, illnesses ranging from various types of cancers to common viral fevers. They could also be signs of chronic depression, he realised, but he could find no explanation for her headaches and lack of strength. He chose not to be pessimistic and continued holding onto his hope that she would perhaps smile for him again. 

Once, when he was bringing soup to her apartment for dinner, he heard her yelling on the phone. Curious, he pressed his ear to the door but could barely make out a few words. It sounded like she was talking to her parents, people she rarely mentioned before, arguing about something he couldn’t figure out. It was probably the first time in weeks that he heard her raising her voice, talking in a tone that wasn’t weak whispers or hoarse replies. He could almost picture her lips in a scowl as she yelled at her parents, her hands raking her hair in frustration.

When he was certain the call ended, he entered her apartment meekly and placed the big bowl of soup on the table. “Was that your parents?” He asked, sitting beside her on the couch.

“Yeah, it’s stupid,” Y/N nodded, her breath heaving as though she had just run a marathon. Was she just angry or had she used up all her energy?

“Are you alright?” He asked again, reaching for her hand and weaving his fingers through hers. “Can I please take you to the hospital?”

“Jake, please,” she sneered, staring at him with narrowed eyes. “I get it, you were a doctor and you’re concerned, but I’m fine. I don’t need any more arguments.”

Though he felt a pang in his chest, he accepted her wishes and sat beside her for a few more moments, his thumb grazing over her knuckles as comfort rather for himself. He looked around her apartment, the cold of the night seeping through her curtains with a single night lamp turned on beside the couch. Most of the paintings hung up on the walls were illuminated by a soft, gold light, the rest of the apartment drowning in darkness. He wondered if this was usually the condition she stayed in when she was alone, sitting in darkness with as little light as possible.

“I know what’ll cheer you up.”

He knew it was probably a stupid idea, but it worked regardless.

He offered her the soup and demanded she finish it while he turned on the television and played a Korean drama. It was a rather new one, a cliché even, where a girl and boy meet at a law firm and fall for each other once they start working on a particularly emotional case together. Y/N found it intriguing, her eyes glued to the moving pictures on the screen like she’d never watched a show before. They stayed up way past midnight and finished more than half the show.

That night, she laughed childishly for the first time in weeks. It was the same laugh she made while telling him something interesting about her day and the same laugh that she made while decorating cakes in the café. She joked about the melodrama of the plot and the slow burn of the romance and Jake would listen and make her laugh even more than the show did. He didn’t acknowledge it then, but he missed it. He missed having her intoxicating and exhilarating energy around him.

“Hey, Jake?” She called while he kept away the dirty dishes.

“Yeah, aein?”

“I’m sorry that I’ve worried you so much lately.”

Jake sauntered to her with a smile on his face, his hands in his pockets and head tilted to the side. “You don’t need to be,” he assured. “I just want you to be fine.”

For the first time in weeks, Y/N initiated a kiss. She stood up from the couch, balancing herself on her toes and wrapping her arms around his neck for support. He didn’t move, eyes simply scanning over her dulling features, his smile still intact. She kissed him in brief pecks, head tilted from one side to the other between each and he basked in her touch; in her surge of energy to please him. 

When he didn't make any effort to touch her, she pulled away, staring at him through her lashes with parted lips and hazy eyes. Jake only chuckled, whispering her nickname under his breath and removing his hands from his pockets to wrap around her waist. At that moment, while he admired her beauty under dimmed lights, he wasn't sure if he could confront his feelings again- the swell in his heart and the relief in his chest. He wasn’t sure if his dependence on her was appropriate but for the time being, he kept his worries aside.

“Kiss me again,” he said.

She obliged.

Jake didn’t know why it felt more natural to kiss her than to treat her like a friend. He wondered if this was what fate felt like, to meet someone you were meant to be with from the start. He asked himself if this was what he felt when he first met his wife. He questioned what the difference between her and Y/N was. He wondered if his questions were even relevant when he was treating her the way he would treat a lover. 

And so, he let her fingers card through his hair and his hands pull at the drawstrings of her sweatpants. Then, he was carrying her to her bedroom, lips still kissing hers open in desperation to feel her closer to him. 

vi. When the Curtains Start to Close

Jake didn’t want to jinx it, not that he believed in such superstitions, but Y/N was becoming lively again. After that night of bingeing that Korean drama, she started making increased appearances at the café and would take part in serving the orders of loyal customers. She retired from decorating cakes, despite being asked about it by the few customers that recognised her. Instead, she would spend her whole day outside like she used to and she would come back and tell Jake all about what she did. In the past few days, she had been visiting the beach more often. She said she would just stand there and let the waves tickle her feet and would be asked by tourists to take family photos for them. 

Other times, she would walk along the narrow road of the Amalfi coast and try all the street food she didn’t have a chance of tasting before. She also bought handfuls of postcards of all places she had visited in her time living around the coast- Capri, Procida, Forio, Ravello, Atrani, and so many more places whose names she couldn’t even remember at that point. She even visited the tiny museums that didn’t have paid entries. She spent all her valuable minutes reading the descriptions of each exhibit as though having such knowledge would make her existence any more significant.

The past six   months in Positano, Italy were colourful to say the least, more colourful than her time in Greece which was saying a lot because the sunsets there were phenomenal. She supposed it was all thanks to Jake and his company. And around him, she supposed she could say she felt significant for perhaps the first time in her life.

After Y/N seemed to regain her youthful curiosity towards the wonders of exploration, Jake spent a lot of his energy worrying about her regardless. Whenever she came home later than she would say, he couldn’t help fret that she had collapsed on a random street, crying and weeping over her lack of energy again. Every night, he would only fall asleep after she did and he would wake up before her to fix up a nutritious breakfast including all her favourite fruits. On days he could close the café early, he would wander the beaches and narrow roads of the coast until he found her and he would walk her home, clasping his hand in hers.

Desperate to cling to the familiar identity of hers that he had created in his head, the one that always had a smile while trekking through any path he took her through, he suggested he take her to an island he himself hadn’t visited yet- Ischia, also known as a paradise island. Much like the time he took her to Chiesa di Santa Maria Assunta, he woke her up early before the sun even started rising and before the stars had a chance to flicker away. She groaned and crawled out of his bed and threw her stuffed shark in his chest to accentuate her annoyance but she still managed to make it across the hallway and into her bathroom.

It was times like such where Jake wondered why she was still paying rent for her apartment. She spent most of her time in his apartment anyway, not much would change if she moved all her clothes into his cupboards either. He was a man of fashion, he would admit. He wouldn’t dare buy a pair of jeans if he had no shirt to pair it with and he would never dream of wearing a shirt he got sick of. This meant that his clothes were pristine but limited and most of what he owned could be mixed and matched into various combinations. It also meant that he had a lot of space for Y/N, who was known to own various pieces of dressing, sometimes the same piece but in a different colour.

Y/N showed up at his door with tamed hair and an outfit consisting of his light blue shirt and a pair of shorts. They shared a chaste kiss before he was dragging her down three flights of stairs and into his cherry red car. The drive to the coast was short and they began making their way down the rocky bridge that led to the small, isolated island.

“Who knew all it took was a little lovin’ to make you feel better,” he teased her, reaching his hand behind him so he could grab her arm and yank her closer to him.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” she rolled her eyes, grinning. “I’m just glad I’m over that slump.”

“Me too,” he smiled and brought her hand to his lips, leaving a peck on her knuckles.

The waters on either side of them were crystal clear, a clean shade of blue that could be confused with the vast sky above them. They could hear the bells of the plethora of boats floating back and forth from island to coast, fisherman hollering at each other to ask if they had extra bait. Seagulls soared above them and pastel kites hung from near the coasts where children were guiding them with strings that were on the verge of snapping. It was the kind of day Jake would call ideal in Positano, Italy.

That morning, Jake had let go of all his worries and he wasn’t exaggerating. Seeing Y/N even remotely return to her previous self, the self that wandered into his café all those months ago, had him convinced that all was right in his world again. He was able to let her walk to her apartment on her own without asking her if she needed any help and when she told him that she could make her own breakfast, he let her. So when he felt her retreating her hand to take pictures, he let her and continued to saunter forward. 

He failed to realise the thump he heard was from her frail body collapsing on rocks and cement. Her camera rolled into the sea and the tips of her fingers caused ripples in the water. The bell of a sailing boat rang twice as loud, the worried calls of a captain finally made him turn around. The world around him shattered.

Nishimura Riki, or Riki Nishimura as Latin liked to frame his name, had gone through so many stages of education that he couldn’t even count the years in his head anymore. There was primary school, middle school and high school- the basics that any average child had to go through. And when it was time for him to pick a major in under-graduation, he studied Japanese and English Literature for a year. It wasn’t to say he didn’t like it- no, he sincerely enjoyed writing the many essay assignments and annotating specific phrases from manuscripts that shaped history. In a way, that one year shaped the personality he would sport for the rest of his life. However, he realised the subject wouldn’t exactly bring him a wealthy fortune. For a few semesters, he dabbled in Greek mythology and even thought he could switch to culinary school with a few cooking classes.

His parents, who had been shelling out too much money for his education alone and needed to save up for his two sisters, had started growing impatient with his lack of commitment towards any subject. For a while, they even suggested that he pull out of school and simply go back to training in dance, perhaps audition to be one of those trainees in Korea who would later debut to become idols. The idea of being ogled and drooled over by a bunch of strangers his age or older while he danced sensually on stage made him cringe. Granted, there was the added advantage of being able to travel the world and earn a truck-load of money… but he decided against the career. He even thought of putting his artistic skills to use and becoming an animator for manga- it was a booming entertainment across the world, these days- but it required for him to actually think of an interesting plot that would reel in readers. That career was a bust, too.

Like most boys at his age, he even went through a phase of wanting to become a footballer- or a soccer player, as the Americans liked to call it. This period of his life was when he dated the most and also the period where his parents were the most disappointed in him. His grades weren’t that great and he was found to be skipping classes a lot to play at the local football club. He would come home with sweat dripping down his damp hair and his jersey drenched by his bodily fluids and would instantly collapse to sleep when his head hit the pillow. It was probably also the period of his life where he was the least healthy. But then, he would make a decision that made his family overflow with pride- and perhaps even a little confusion.

Riki eventually found himself in medical school. He was a few years older than his first-year classmates but it was in that cohort where he met Sunoo and Jungwon. The three had similar stories to tell when asked why they joined medical school so late- neither of them had any clue what they wanted to do with their lives or careers. So, it was due to that reason that they became friends in the first place. Throughout their years of knowing each other and suffering through medical school and surgeon training, they had lived in the same dingy apartment with one twin-sized bed and a bunk bed. They would take turns sleeping on the twin-sized because, honestly, who in that age would want to sleep in a bunk bed that barely gave them space for their legs. 

By the time the three were on their last year interning at Seoul National University Hospital, only Riki was sleeping on the twin-sized bed because he was towering above both Sunoo and Jungwon and everyone at the hospital, for that matter. They had all accepted a fellowship around that time, Riki finally taking his final step towards becoming a neurosurgeon. When they became attending surgeons a year later, the three could afford to move into a larger apartment, one where each of them got their own room and wouldn’t need to worry about privacy if any of them ever brought a girl home. In fact, they had earned enough to each rent out their own apartments but it was a sense of familiarity that kept the trio together. In the hospital, amongst their colleagues and peers, they were known to be triplets glued by their hips at almost all times.

Riki had seen many peculiar things at his time in the hospital and he had grown to make many connections with his seniors as well. It would only make sense to come home to the people that took care of him when his parents couldn’t. There were patients that were admitted in the Emergency Room that both puzzled him and knocked his breath away and he had assisted and performed many surgeries that ended up on the front page of many medical-centred magazines. His favourite would be the one where a pre-teen was rushed to the Emergency Room by his father when he found out that his kid had been swallowing coins for fun.

Yeah, it was his favourite because Jungwon, the general surgeon, had to suffer through most of the work while he and Sunoo watched his suffering in cleaning out the patient’s stomach and intestines. 

When Riki decided to specialise as a neurosurgeon, he began spending more time with Doctor Sim Ari. She was famous for being from Seoul National University Hospital’s best batch of interns, the same one where her husband was from and where Doctors Park Sunghoon and Park Jay were from, too. They all had their respective nicknames within the famed, holy hallways of their hospital. One was known as the womaniser that specialised in plastic surgery to woo the hearts of many more women to come and another was known as the one born to become a dad who eventually specialised as a neonatal surgeon. As for Doctor Sim Jaeyun, he was famous for his hands- his hands that were dubbed a miracle by his colleagues and tabloids alike- that knew how to fix any heart that was suffering from any injury. He didn’t become a world-renowned cardiothoracic surgeon for no reason.

But Doctor Sim Ari? She was Riki’s favourite to be around. Not because he fantasised about performing adulterated actions with her or looked at her through a sexualised lens in any way- no, it wasn’t because he had a crush on her either. Don’t get him wrong, he wasn’t calling her unattractive either- she could easily be chalked up to being one of the most beautiful women that graced the halls of their hospital. She was his favourite to be around because, to put it simply, she was the least mean out of the rest of the attending surgeons in the hospital. Her beauty and talent in teaching neurosurgery with an interesting spin was simply an added bonus. While he assisted in Operating Rooms with her, she would laugh at a joke anyone made and would dance along if music was played on rare occasions. She would softly, calmly explain to him what he needed to do with the scalpel prodding at a patient’s brain if he was ever stuck and she wouldn’t yell at him or stress him out like the rest of the attendings with their students. 

Doctor Sim Ari was the type to listen to him ramble about what he remembered from his year in studying literature. Though the woman knew nothing about Japanese literature and could barely say she had ever read the English classics, she would still listen if it meant it would help Riki in improving his performance as surgeon and reducing his anxiety levels. Overtime, it became a habit for him to recall what he knew about literature in between surgeries or consultations if he ever found himself to be nervous, anxious or insecure in his abilities as a Doctor. He would find himself looking for some sort of connection between neuroscience and literature but an amateur like him could never even come close to it. He was sure various other writers, capable literates, had created the poem or prose that he wanted to, but he was yet to find it. Oftentimes, he was just reciting poems by Robert Frost or Sylvia Plath or would define literary devices in his head.

You see, that habit had only manifested somewhere in the middle of 2013, when his mentor, his favourite teacher, had passed away. Doctor Sim Ari, who brought out his interest in neurosurgery in the first place, had passed away. In literary terms, such an event would be called a tragedy or a plot twist, something that introduced a radical change in transpiring events. The loss of Seoul National University Hospital’s one doctor would lead to the loss of another- Doctor Sim Jaeyun packing his bags and leaving without bothering to tell anyone. All he left was his resignation letter and another letter that instructed no one to come looking for him.

Riki was devastated to say the least. He barely even made it to her funeral. The hospital didn’t function the same since then; it took a long time for all the staff to recover. To cope with the loss of his mentor, he let the habit of reciting poems and literary devices in his head become stronger because it reminded him of their lessons together. To cope with the loss of a surgeon and the disappearance of another, the hospital started performing Pro Bono surgeries every eight of July in remembrance of Sim Jaeyun and Ari. That month was also the month all the other attending surgeons, such as Park Sunghoon and Park Jay, even the Chief of Surgery Lee Heeseung, would start growing quieter as though not speaking of the tragedy would somehow make the event disappear in the space-time continuum. They would become easily agitated in that month and everyone around them, especially the new interns, would start to grow cautious, even if some didn’t know the reason. That month would later become Sunoo’s least favourite month because Doctor Park Sunghoon, who he learnt plastic surgery from, had a habit of screaming if he got annoyed or frustrated. The nurses even had a name for the month- the month of mourning, they would call it. It wasn’t very original, but it laid out the message. 

Perhaps it was eight or nine years after her death though, Riki couldn’t remember, the month of July seemed to have a ray of sunlight shining on it. He didn’t know what exactly happened but Doctor Park Sunghoon didn’t show up for around a month that year and when he came back, he seemed to have come back with news that was worth smiling until his cheeks hurt. Rumour had it that he found the whereabouts of Sim Jaeyun, his best friend, and it was all anybody could talk about for weeks. That is, until new gossip surfaced and everyone forgot about the random vacation that Park Sunghoon took. Since then, the month of July wasn’t that scary anymore. It was as though the attending surgeons had found some sort of closure- nobody knew what it was, in all honesty. 

The answer was finally revealed years later, when the interns that Ari’s batch taught had made their own names in their respective fields and when they were the ones that were expected to take over Seoul National University Hospital’s medical hierarchy. Riki, who was expecting his day to go like any other day, following a tight schedule of surgeries and meetings to attend, walked down one of the many hallways the hospital had to offer. He had just returned from a business trip to Busan that lasted a week where he assisted in a terminal case and now that he was back, coming home to the hospital he was most familiar with was better than any high-class hotel or private hospital he’d been to. To the right of him were glass windows- or rather, a glass wall itself- from which he could see pedestrians walking down the sidewalk closest to the building and trees growing around the hospital’s gardens. To his left were the hospital rooms of many patients, some of whom he had to check on and others who were assigned to the interns to check their vital charts. When he walked past room 203, he was expecting to see the nice ajumma that was admitted for stage-one stomach cancer but instead, he was met with the familiar face of the Chief and Doctor Park Sunghoon. Standing in front of them, across the bed in which an semi-unconscious patient lay- was a man he had to squint to recognise. It was only when the man made a light shift in his stance that Riki caught the side of his face.

Holy mother of God- it’s Doctor Sim Jaeyun.

Internal monologue, Riki thought to himself as he scrambled into room 203, almost tripping on the laces of his shoes as he barely made it in. The boy was panting, beads of sweat suddenly forming on his hairline. The people inside the room were met with his face contorted into a mix of shock and disbelief, his mouth agape and eyes resembling two baseballs. Doctor Sim Jaeyun- he wasn’t even sure if he was supposed to call him Doctor- or Doctor Sim, or Jake as he remembered him saying he liked to be called, turned to face Riki and suddenly, the boy was transported to when he first placed a step in the hospital as an intern. Better yet, he was transported to the day he saw Doctor Sim Ari on the hospital bed with her vitals reflecting a flatline.

Riki wasn’t exactly sure why he was reminded of the memory. It was distant in his head, tucked away in the many corners of his neuromatrix. Moments and pictures of various other memories had piled on top of that one, as a matter of fact but seeing the way Jake looked at the woman on the hospital bed, his fingers picking at the skin on his lips with worry, brought upon him a wave of deja vu. 

“Doctor Nishimura?” Jake turned to face Riki with a smile on his face. It was the kind of smile that manifested in a moment of desperation for a break away from the reality he was in, almost a way in which he was ignoring the reality he was living in. In that moment, Riki was his distraction and he was pulling him away from reality with a firm handshake- even if it was only for a few seconds. “I remember you,” he enthused.

“Yes,” Riki nodded with a gulp while he was sure the Chief and the plastic surgeon were giving him cues to leave the room. “I can’t believe it’s you,” his statement, though he was truly enthralled and curious, came with a stammer. It was a stammer bad enough to ruin the rest of his image as a confident, budding neurosurgeon. “How have you been?”

“Oh, I’ve been great,” Jake nodded, his smile disappearing into pressed lips. He crossed his arms across his chest, tapping his leather-clad feet against the cool tiles of the room. “Sunghoon told me you’re an attending neurosurgeon now? I’m very proud.”

“Yes, thank you” Riki nodded again, darting his eyes towards the Chief who was mouthing words that resembled get out and not the right time while shifting his gaze between the woman on the bed and the door. “Well, it’s nice to see you Doctor- well, Jake-ssi- um, Seonbaenim,” he settled with, gulping again and offering him a respectful bow. “I’ll be going now,” and he sprinted out of the room, certainly not expecting the interaction to go as he had thought it would and making his way towards where he assumed Sunoo and Jungwon would be.

Jake was brought back to reality when Riki ran out the door and down the hallway. Heeseung’s cough brought his attention towards the conversation, his fingers returning to their previous position near his lips. “Jake?” He said, crossing his arms. “She’ll be fine,” he assured, pointing to Y/N.

“Hyung,” Jake asserted. “She remembers nothing from the past four days.”

Well, that would be an understatement- there was a bigger story to catch up on.

When Jake found her unconscious on the bridge leading to Ischia, he spent no time wasted in attempting to shake her or slap her awake. And no, he didn’t spare a moment in thinking that she must have fainted due to heatstroke either. When he saw her in her predicament, her weak and frail body collapsed on the ground, a part of him was already expecting it. He wasn’t saying that he was looking forward to it- no, he was saying that there was no way her malnourishment and all those weeks of physical decline weren't correlated with something bigger. So, without wasting a moment, he carried her to his car and drove her to the nearest hospital he knew. In that car ride, with Y/N secured in the passenger seat, her expression cold and body almost unmoving, he thought that his life must have been some sort of joke to God. Only a few months ago, he thought that perhaps this woman that was introduced to him had come to save him from the misery he refused to accept, perhaps remove him from a cocoon of isolation. Instead, he was convinced that he was paying for the sins he probably committed in his past life.

When he got to the nearest hospital, they had taken Y/N away in a stretcher and brought her to their small and insufficiently equipped ICU. Around that time was when Jake called Sunghoon and filled him in on the events of the past few weeks- perhaps months, he couldn’t keep track of time any more. He told him everything- from the headaches Y/N experienced to her lack of energy, appetite and enthusiasm and he told him about all the times he found her crying on her bathroom floor and the times he had to feed her because she couldn’t even lift her hand towards her mouth. Then, her sudden and unexplainable increase in stamina became suspicious.

“Jake, I know you don’t want to come back to Korea but flying back here would cost you the same as flying to America. You and I both know what this sounds like and you and I both know if she’s getting any help, it’s at our hospital.”

Y/N, in her drug induced coma, had boarded on a helicopter with Jake and they were on their way to South Korean, Seoul, home of Seoul National University Hospital. Being a world renowned hospital with monetary funds pouring in from all over the world, they were bound to own a helicopter and it was used in high-profile or emergency cases such as these. Over the years, the hospital’s helicopter had gone through many changes and repairs. When Jake boarded the helicopter, he was expecting to see the same one he did from all those years ago, from when he was still working. Seeing that they had bought a completely different model was when he truly realised that he was about to go back to his motherland and the place he dreaded the most- but when he got there, breathing in the air he grew up with and hearing people speak his language, it felt like nothing had changed, like he had never left the country in the first place.

When he showed up on the roof of Seoul National University Hospital, Heeseung, Jay and Sunghoon were all there to receive him and his lover- or their patient, none of them were really sure what to call her, at that point. Heeseung, as Chief of Surgery, was hollering directions over the juddering of helicopter wings and was dragging away the stretcher that Y/N lay on. When silence ensued, the three left on the roof glanced at each other with awkwardness, only for Jay to wrap Jake in a long awaited hug. He held onto his friend that he hadn’t seen in over a decade like he was holding onto a kite that was being carried away by a hurricane. They didn’t leave the roof until Jay was able to give Jake an earful of curses and disappointments, which eventually led to tears streaming down Jay’s cheeks.

Heeseung would have a similar moment with Jake while some of the residents took her Y/N’s scans and blood tests. However, this interaction ended with Jake tearing up as Hesseung was telling him how his children still ask about him sometimes. Various people walked across them, oblivious to the history Jake held with the hospital, but those who did recognise him had stopped and stared, only to be ushered away by Sunghoon and Jay. Y/N was admitted to the hospital as an official patient by then and she still succumbed to the coma.

Jake spent the whole day sitting beside Y/N. holding her hand in his, occasionally nodding off to sleep and fighting back tears that had choked his throat. He prayed that she would wake up soon and that her tests would reveal a very minor illness, something that could be cured with a simple surgical procedure or with the right mixture of medication. Sunghoon pleaded with him to call it a night and come back to his home to sleep. “I bought a new apartment not too long ago and you don’t even wanna see it?” Was his attempt in guilting Jake into leaving Y/N’s side but he insisted that he wanted him to be the first thing he saw when she woke up.

She didn’t wake up that night but left behind the promise of demise in the form of a CT scan that made neurosurgeons gasp. 

The next morning, Jake’s family had burst through the sliding doors of the hospital on the news of his return. His mother strutted down the hallways like one of those hysterical mothers in soap operas, yelling her son’s name in demand of his appearance in front of her. His father followed behind her, not sure whether he was supposed to be disappointed or overjoyed at the return of his son- he had to cancel a business trip to Australia. The couple was reunited with their son after around eight years or so, their arms wrapping around one another in a solemn, melancholy and bittersweet hug. However, the moment was forgotten when his mother’s shrill cries of sorrow filled the hallway they were having their reunion in. 

His father had to hold the poor woman as she almost collapsed, Jake kneeling on the cool tiles with her and pleading for her forgiveness with their hands intertwined. Sunghoon found himself jogging with large strides towards them, his white coat hanging off his forearm and his eyes wide in concern. When he saw the two elderly collapsing, Jake struggling to keep a straight demeanour himself, he helped them up and brought them to converse in room 203.

“Who is this woman?” His mother asked, despite wanting to gnaw at Jake for the reason of his disappearance.

“She’s the whole reason I came back,” Jake responded.

His mother made a mental note to thank her when she would wake. 

Jake, for the rest of the time his parents were with him, was either crying from loneliness or explaining to them the past eight years of his life that they missed. He was sure Sunghoon had informed them of all that they were missing out on but hearing it from Jake himself was something they refused to miss out on. His mother and father listened to him with patience, every ounce of hatred and disappointment they held against him disappearing with each word he spoke. And suddenly, they weren’t estranged anymore and the only mystery between them was Y/N and his intentions with her.

“Come home, son,” his father suggested but before Jake could answer, Y/N was stirring under the sheets of the hospital bed, her fingers twitching and throat eliciting a low, painful moan.

In the next second, Lee Heeseung was rushing into the room with a team of nurses and residents behind him. He was ushering Jake’s parents out of the room and Sunghoon had led them out of the hospital with promises and assurances of Jake’s safety and wellbeing. “You can see him again, I’ll take care of him,” he said and boarded them on a cab back home. Perhaps it was cruel of Sunghoon to push them away and attempt to take the role of Jake’s care-taker but if he knew anything about his best friend, it was that he would prefer being around someone that didn’t require carrying around the weight of guilt. Especially at times like these.

Back in room 203, Heeseung was shining a light into Y/N pupils, encouraging her to either continue resting or speak coherent words. Jake stood across from her, hoping that his presence would elicit any sort of reaction. Instead, all any of them got was “Jake? What’s happening?” That question would be followed by a string of mumbles and murmurs while Jake and Heeseung would try explaining her predicament to her and the events that lead up to her being in Seoul National University Hospital. 

“This is normal,” Heeseung assured. “She should come back to full consciousness in a few days.”

He wasn’t sure how but Sunghoon managed to convince Jake to spend the night in his apartment. He spent an hour telling him about the lengths he had to go through to buy the expensive furniture that furnished his home and the tiles that lined his walls. For as much as he could, Jake acted interested. The pair didn’t sleep that night, instead arguing over the fact that Jake hadn’t eaten a proper meal in over twenty-four hours. Then, Jake had continued to cry about his bad luck, Y/N and his distaste towards her life’s uncertainty. 

The next day, Jake’s parents returned with his brother. Jonathan and Jake looked nothing alike. He was much taller than Jake, sporting a rather lean figure than a muscular one. He walked into room 203 with a pair of spectacles hanging on the bridge of his nose, eyes blank as he looked at his younger brother as though he was looking at a ghost.

“Hyung?” Jake blinked at him in surprise. He wasn’t sure why he was surprised- if he were to meet his parents, meeting his older brother was inevitable. “You’re here?”

“Of course,” Jonathan leapt to hug his brother, his weight leaning on his. Jake’s arms hesitantly wrapped around his torso, offering brief pats on his back. “Mom and dad told me everything.”

“Thank God, because I’m not in the mood to repeat all that.”

With laughter subsiding the looming awkwardness that would follow, the older ruffled the younger’s hair as though they were children again and exited the hospital to indulge in soju. It was a drink that burnt all of Jake’s memories back into his head, even the ones that he thought he’d forget- all the embarrassing moments of clumsiness in high school and the minute details from his time as a surgeon- came rushing back to him. In all honesty, he missed the drink and the effect it had on him.

While the brothers bonded over drinks, Y/N’s eyes were fluttering open in room 203. Her gaze was met with an alarmingly empty white wall, the room all too unfamiliar for her confused mind. The sunlight that filtered through the blinds blinded her and her terrified scream echoed down the hallway, causing other patients to call for her aid. Heeseung hurried to her room, panting in confusion when he found her unconsciousness again, her lips slightly moving and tracing the outline of Jake. Jake was bolting back into the hospital with the news and he was whispering words of assurance into her ear, even though he wasn’t sure if she could hear him, and stroking her hair with the span of his palm.

All those events would lead to today, when Nishimura Riki finally learnt of his impromptu return and the day Y/N would finally gain consciousness, even though she was experiencing temporary amnesia. 

“Where am I?” Y/N mumbled, pushing herself up to lean against the headboard. Her eyes squinted, her throat groggy and coarse to hear.

As a response, Jake pushed her shoulder back down and ushered to lay her head on the pillow again. “The hospital,” he whispered. “Remember?”

“What happened?” She grumbled, looking at the two unfamiliar men standing beside her. “Sunghoon?”

Sunghoon, surprised that she even recognised him, had his brows raised as he shyly waved at her.

“Where am I?” She repeated, this time her voice increasing in demand. 

Jake hushed her at that, ushering her to not worry and that she should go back to sleep. The next moment, she was sleeping again and the three men in the room sighed in defeat.

“We should get some lunch.”

Heeseung led Jake to the cafeteria and Sunghoon left to tend to another one of his patients. Back in the day, when Jake was still working, the cafeteria was known for its soggy rice and uncooked dishes. Even the Chief of Surgery Lee Heeseung would complain about it despite his pride for the rest of the hospital but now, he was leading Jake towards the same place that was considered infamous. But the previous lifeless walls were replaced by yellow wallpapers and the drawings of patients from the children’s ward. The tables were circular instead of square and the cheap plastic stools from before were replaced by wood. 

“So much has changed,” Jake marvelled as he looked around the cafeteria.

Heeseung chuckled, guiding him to stand in line for food and passing him a plate. “What, Sunghoon didn’t mention the remodelling?”

“I guess it slipped his mind,” he said, still squinting to read the drawings hung on the walls.

While Heeseung and Jake were busy collecting their lunch from the buffet, on the other end of the cafeteria sat Riki, Sunoo and Jungwon, whispering amongst themselves and stealing glances from their Chief and the unexpected returnee. Riki was not even bothering to hide that he was talking about them, with every word he spoke his eyes lingering on the back of Jake’s head. He leaned across the circular table and closer to his friends, his hand covering the side of his mouth as he spoke.

“Why didn’t you guys tell me he was back?” Riki grumbled.

“You found out before we could tell you!” Sunoo defended and Jungwon nodded profusely. 

Riki rolled his eyes. “It was so embarrassing,” he whined. “I didn’t even know what honorifics to use!”

“It’s fine, I’m sure he doesn’t even care,” Jungwon waved off. “Have you heard anything about Y/N?”

“That girl he brought back?” Sunoo questioned and was answered with nods from the other two.

“I feel terrible for him,” Riki sighed and let his shoulders slump. The ramen in front of him was long forgotten, the air conditioner above them blowing away all the heat and flavour with it. “The Chief called me into his office and showed me her CT scans-”

“And?” Jungwon prodded, gripping the edges of the table in curiosity.

“I’m getting there,” Riki widened his eyes in annoyance. Interrupting has been a habit of Jungwon’s that everyone around him got used to after a few years of being around him but in such moments, even Riki felt vexed. “Anyways, he showed me her CT scans and there really was no hope.”

Jungwon and Sunoo both let out an italicised oh.

“We discussed it for hours trying to figure out a way around it but if even he lost all hope then, man, I don’t know anymore,” Riki continued. 

When the Chief of Surgery had called him to his office earlier in the day, Riki assumed he wanted to know how his trip to Busan went. Perhaps he would be asked to submit a report with attached paperwork and he would walk out with a groan and more work to complete once he got home. For a brief moment, he even considered the possibility of being asked to keep chatter about Sim Jaeyun being back to a minimum. But then he walked in and Chief Lee Heeseung was staring at a pile of CT scans with his fingers massaging his temples. The last time he saw him in such a predicament was when the ground floor of the hospital faced flooding- it was a look that only sat on the Chief’s face if the situation was dire. When he saw Riki, he slipped off his glasses and let out an exasperated sigh.

“Look at these,” he said, pointing to the black and white scans splayed across his table. “Look.”

Worried, Riki scrambled towards him and gathered the scans in his hands. For a brief moment, he looked over them, brows furrowed and mouth contorting into a scowl. “Chief?” He called and was responded with a hum. “These are the scans of the girl Jake was with, aren’t they?”

Lee Heeseung, the man who was known to be composed during any and all circumstances, no matter the stakes, was burying his face in his hands and pulling at the roots of his hair. His eyes watered, the span of his palms running down his cheeks to wipe off excess tears. “Yeah, her name’s Y/N,” he nodded. “You and I are on the same conclusion, aren’t we?”

Riki nodded, too scared to ask who she was and too uncomfortable to offer any consolation. “There’s no hope, Chief,” he responded. “Maybe we could try but-”

“Doctor Nishimura, I’ve tried,” he seethed. “I’ve gone through her scans and medical history for hours and-”

“By yourself,” Riki pointed out. “Let me help this time,” he offered and sat opposite to him.

For the next hour, the pair drew diagrams on blank pieces of paper that they never thought they’d find themselves drawing. They were trying to figure out ways to cut nerve pathways without paralysing her and ways to reroute her blood vessels without completely killing her during surgery. The whiteboard in the office was filled with scribbles and notes from what the pair knew of neurosurgery basics and even those tips brought them nowhere to carry out a complicated procedure. It all made no sense, like their professions had no purpose anymore.

“I find this to be really sardonic,” Riki said, letting go of the pen he had been gripping for the past hour. “It feels like all the events in my life have led up to this very moment. But I’ve got nothing. I keep thinking Doctor Ari only taught me neurosurgery so I could come and save this girl’s life and hopefully Jake too but I’m failing her now.”

In literary terms, events like these would be defined with irony or some sort of foreshadowing.

Heeseung looked at Riki only for a second before turning away. He slid his hands down his face again and shook his head, the weight of his words only starting to hit him. “Doctor Nishimura?” He said. “Leave and call Doctor Park Sunghoon for me.”

With pursed lips, Riki slowly left his seat and made his way to the door with his head hanging low.

“Oh, and Riki?”

“Yes, Chief?”

“Don’t beat yourself up for this.”

Sunghoon came barging into his room moments later, worried and confused by the sudden need for him but then he saw Heeseung’s expression of defeat and all the scribbles and notes on the whiteboard and he didn’t need an explanation anymore. He tiptoed to the Chief’s side and wrapped an arm around his hunched back, sobs finally starting to rake his body. “This is gonna ruin him,” he sniffled. “Sunghoon, I don’t know if he’ll survive this.”

Now, Heeseung was sitting across from the very man whose heart he was afraid of breaking, attempting to have lunch with him. There was only so long he could insist that he was doing his best to save Y/N; only so long could he act oblivious to an inevitable death. In his entire career of being a doctor, a surgeon and chief, this was probably his first time breaking some sort of rule in the oath he took or some rule from the doctor’s handbook- he was lying to the guardian of his patient.

“So,” he started. “Jake.”

“Yes?” The man in question chuckled, mixing the ramen in his broth. It had been a long time since he ate Korean cuisine.

“Tell me about Y/N,” Heeseung insisted with a smile. “What’s going on there?”

If Jake was asked how he and some of the other attendings formed such a close relationship with the current Chief of Surgery, Lee Heeseung, none of them would know what to say. Perhaps they became friends around the time of his vulnerability and joy from recently being appointed as Chief of Surgery or it was simply because they got along well but the dignified and talented man has treated them like family. He officiated Jake and Ari’s wedding, let Jay live with him when he was going through a rough patch, treated Sunghoon like he was a brother, took Riki under his wing when he had no mentor, helped Sunoo find passion in plastic surgery and was frequently seen giving relationship advice to Jungwon.

Jake was rather close to Heeseung before he left for Italy. They would often invite each other for a soju at one of their backyards or would cool off with a snack in the office. He didn’t know what it was about him but Jake had always found himself being more open around him since the day they met. Yet even then, when he asked him about Y/N, he wasn’t sure what there was left to say.

“I don’t know, Hyung,” Jake shrugged. “Whatever Sunghoon hasn’t told you, I’ve told you the past few days. I guess she’s just very important to me.”

“That’s it, then?” Heeseung raised a brow. “You didn’t find a good enough reason to come back until her?”

“Don’t take it that way-”

“No, Jake,” Heeseung interrupted, his tone calm and soothing despite the words that he was about to speak. “A week ago, if Sunghoon had asked you to come back, you would have laughed in his face. You only came back because her life depended on it. Don’t you think that she might possibly mean more than just something important?”

“I know that, Jesus, I’m not oblivious,” Jake rolled his eyes. “Listen, I don’t want to talk about this. Can we move on?”

Heeseung sucked in a breath. “Ok,” he said. “Well… I’m planning on giving the title of Chief of Surgery to someone else,” he stated as though it wasn’t a life-changing decision.

“Oh,” Jake responded to match the nonchalance of Heeseung’s tone. “When’d you make that decision.”

“A few months ago.”

Heeseung was lying. The thought crossed his mind exactly two hours ago, while he was on the verge of breaking down with Doctor Nishimura Riki. 

“Wow, well… who do you want to appoint?”

“I mean, it’s not all up to me. The board has a huge say in it-”

“Yeah, I remember-”

“But if it were up to me, I would have appointed Ari.”

Jake stiffened, his grip on his chopsticks tightening. But then his muscles relaxed and he cleared his throat, putting thought into his statement. “She would have been perfect for it,” he agreed.

“Yeah, she would have,” Heeseung nodded. “After she passed away, I thought you could be the next Chief of Surgery.”

Jake connected his gaze with Heeseung for the first time that evening. He wasn’t sure what his reaction was supposed to be or what he was expected to do but when he saw Heeseung’s stoic expression, his eyes almost emotionless and his jaw clenched, Jake realised that the conversation was never about his concerns of who his successor would be.

“Hyung-”

“You should have never left, Jake,” Heeseung stated and stood up from his seat. “You should have just stayed,” he said and turned his back to leave.

vii. La Vita è Fatta Così

“A brain tumour,” Jake stated firmly in disbelief, his arms crossed in disappointment. “Really? A brain tumour? Of all the clichés, a goddamn brain tumour-”

“Ok, I get it, Jake, jeez,” Y/N attempted to calm him down. “I’m really sorry but instead of acting like a parent that just caught their teen smoking, most would start crying at the news.”

“Y/N, I found out four fucking days ago,” he said, raising four fingers in the air. “I’ve shed enough tears since then.”

“Ok, I’m sorry, I was just trying to lighten the mood.”

“Lighten the moo-” Jake pinched the bridge of his nose and placed a hand on his hip. “Lighten the fucking mood?” He raised his voice.

“You know you’re not scary at all when you’re angry right?”

Conversations as such had been going on since Y/N woke up. The nurses helped her change her clothes and insisted on getting some food in her system. Heeseung and Riki ran a few practical tests on her before ruling that she had finally gained complete consciousness. However, she still couldn’t remember the times she had woken up in between her sleep. So, they had to explain to her where she was and she listened intently with no ounce of concern or surprise in her expressions. It was then that they realised her diagnosis was no news to her- it was something she had been living with for several years.

“Y/N, I’m being serious,” he pressed, clenching his fists at his sides. “You knew all along and you never told me? Was this why you refused to go to the hospital?”

She could only nod.

“Why didn’t you ever fucking tell me?” He strained.

“Because of this exact reason,” she said, extending her arms to point at the hospital room she was in and the pristine white and uncomfortable bed she was laying in. “You would have tried fixing me.”

Jake’s gaze fell to his feet, his lips pursing as he gulped. Slowly, he found himself slouching on the couch behind him, his hair falling onto his forehead. “Then what were you gonna do?” He asked.

“What do you mean?”

“If you never planned on telling me and if you never collapsed that day, what would you have done?”

The answer wasn’t something Y/N needed to think about. With a deep breath, her eyes trained on her fiddling fingers, she clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth. “Normally, I would have just moved on to the next country after a couple more weeks.”

“Normally?”

“Yeah, well, I fell for you, Jake,” she stated plainly. “I fell for you. So, I don’t know what I would have done if I never collapsed that day.”

When Jake was still an attending surgeon all those years ago, something that he had always noticed in patients suffering from terminal illnesses, especially those who were convinced their expiration date was looming above their heads, tended to be a lot more honest than they usually were. He was observing the same characteristic in her and it became all too apparent to him that she was currently laying on her deathbed. All those fleeting moments spent in his bedroom and on the roads of Positano, the time he spent reinstating his trust and love for another woman, led to this moment in his life- to find out that he’d be losing another fight.

“You couldn’t have told me after you kissed me? Or even after you sensed that our relationship was becoming serious?”

“What did you want me to tell you? That I fell for you? Or that I was gonna die soon?”

Silence fell upon them again and Jake buried his hands in his hair, tugging at his roots. He desperately needed a shower. “Y/N,” he breathed. “Why’d you kiss me?”

“You’re asking me the same question-”

“What made you think that it was okay to kiss me? What made you think that I’d come out of this without getting hurt?”

“You started having feelings for me long before that night, Jake,” Y/N argued.

“That doesn’t matter anymore, does it?” He pointed out. “If all of that never happened between us, if we never slept together- if we simply had never kissed, then I wouldn’t be in this position.”

“So you’re saying you wouldn’t have cared for me as much if we never fucked?”

“No, Y/N, that's not-”

“You’d be yelling at me about basically the same things and you’d ask me why I had to lead you on and go on dates with you. That’s the only difference it would have made if we never slept together because, Jake, you started having feelings for me before any of that and we’d be in this room regardless of what direction our relationship took.”

“But-”

“And yeah, I guess you’re right. I shouldn’t have kissed you and I should have told you about my tumour. I never should have let things get this far, especially after I found out you were a widower. I was being selfish, I know and I’m a terrible person for that. But are you really gonna stand there and insinuate that you wouldn’t have brought me to Korea if we never fucking slept together?”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

This is my destiny, he thought to himself, this is what my life has come to.

Sunghoon was strutting into the room around that time, a bright smile on his face as he waved to the pair that were just coming out of an argument. Sunghoon didn’t sense the awkwardness in the air, instead focusing on the fury of nerves that were bundled up in his chest, excited to meet the girl that elicited emotion from his best friend that had succumbed to isolation for over a decade.

“Hey,” he sang. “How’s my favourite patient?”

Y/N face that was previously contorted into a mixture of rage and guilt was now replaced with serenity. Ever so smoothly, she smiled at him, their argument long forgotten. “Favourite patient?” She chuckled.

“Well, you know,” Sunghoon shrugged, not knowing what other nickname to use. He settled beside Jake, patting his back. “You should go have lunch,” he switched to Korean.

“No, I think I’d rather stay,” Jake nodded.

“Go eat, Heeseung and Jay are downstairs. Go join them,” Sunghoon continued, still oblivious to the heavyweight in the atmosphere.

“It’s fine, ‘Hoon. I think I’ll keep Y/N company,” he breathed.

“You didn’t even eat breakfast-”

“Sunghoon, I’m good-”

“Jake, just go!"

Jake looked between Y/N and Sunghoon and dragged his feet towards the door. Silently, the pair left in the room followed him with their eyes, waiting until he wasn’t seen past the window leading to the hallway. Then Y/N cleared her throat to get Sunghoon’s attention.

“Are you here to yell at me, too?” She sighed, letting her arms bury into the thin blanket covering her frame.

“What?” Sunghoon scoffed, raising a brow in question. “No, I just wanted him to eat.”

“Ah.”

“And I thought maybe you’d like the company of someone other than him.”

The statement brought Y/N a shy smile and she glanced at him through her lashes. He had a sneaky grin, one shoulder shrugging. “I’m sure you have better work to tend to,” she crooned.

“It’s the least I could do, Y/N,” he insisted. “If I want him to be happy, then I’ll need you to be happy.”

“Right,” she lowered her head to look at her hands again. “You still must hate me.”

“In all honesty,” he started. “I don’t.”

Y/N’s eyes snapped upwards to find him pulling a chair towards her bed. “What?”

Sunghoon sat beside her, his elbow leaning on the headboard. “I don’t hate you, Y/N,” he said. “Neither does he. I don’t blame him for being angry but if anything, I need to thank you.”

“Why?”

“Because he’s been alone for years, he’s forced himself to be alone for so many years. He denies it but as his best friend, I know he’s been miserable. All of that stopped when he met you, though,” he explained.

“I’m starting to think that isn’t really a good thing, considering my predicament.”

“Maybe, maybe not,” he shrugged again. “But now that he’s back, I don’t think he’ll be as lonely anymore.”

Sunghoon couldn’t exactly use words to explain his lack of anger. He was talking to the girl that lied and put his best friend in the same position as he was eight years ago- losing another lover. But the doctor in him spared her some pity. So, he found himself steering their conversation into a more light hearted topic, allowing some sort of laughter and glee to fill the depressing hospital room. 

Sunghoon was showing her pictures of Jake from when he was younger. He showed her his baby pictures, his embarrassing high school pictures, his college pictures where he experimented with blond hair- which eerily accentuated his cheek bones. She was even lucky to watch a few videos of him performing surgery- it was a grotesque sight, but watching him as a surgeon rather than the baker she was so used to seemed almost daunting. 

In the little time they had, Sunghoon was telling her stories from when they were younger. These were stories she had never heard before, the kind of stories Jake wanted to bury in order to maintain the new persona he created in Positano, Italy. In turn, she filled him in on what they had done together in the quaint town and answered the questions that were burning his skull.

“Jake had the balls to do that?”

“Yeah, he’s got dick, dude,” Y/N nodded with a smirk. “But I never expected him to be the clumsy type.”

“Yeah, I know! Who knew he’d grow up to be a surgeon, of all things?”

When Jake came back into their room and peered on Sunghoon’s phone screen, he saw a picture they had taken on their first day as interns at Seoul National University Hospital. It was a group picture, one where everyone stood around each other awkwardly with toothy grins staring at the camera. No one knew each other, except for Jake and Sunghoon because they practically grew up together. While those two stood in the centre of the picture, Jay was standing on the top right corner and Ari? She was standing right behind Jake. 

“I don’t have this picture,” Jake mused, the picture tugging at his heart strings. 

“I’ll send it to you, don’t worry,” Sunghoon said and stuffed his phone into his pocket. Y/N looked between the pair with a soft smile. “Did you eat?”

“Yeah, Heeseung Hyung took us out,” Jake stood straight again, scratching the back of his neck with a hand on his hip. “I haven’t had sundubu-jjigae in so long.”

“Good to know, bud,” Sunghoon stood up and patted Jake’s shoulders. Then, he walked out of the room.

If there was anything that Y/N noticed in the time that she was awake, it was that whenever they patted each other’s backs or shoulders, it was that the impact made loud thumps that usually echoed through the room.

“So,” Jake shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans and made eye contact with the girl lying in the hospital bed. “Had fun?”

“Yeah,” she nodded, her smile still intact.

“I’ll never understand you,” he sighed, his hand moving to massage the side of his head. “How are you able to smile at a time like this?”

“Jake, I’ve known this day would come since I was like nineteen,” she said. “I’ve made my peace with it.”

“But what about me?” He whined, pointing his hands towards himself. “Have you thought about what’s gonna happen with me?”

“I have,” she scoffed. “I have, and it makes me sad. So, I’d rather not think about it more.”

“Don’t you think this is a little unfair?”

“What, the fact that I never got to live the conventional life that I dreamt of or that you still have the choice of living your life the way you want?” 

“Excuse me?”

“You think that with my tumour I could have grown up, went to college, gotten married and had kids and done all that crap? When there’s a chance of me dropping dead at any second?”

“Now you’re just guilt tripping me,” Jake argued, grumbling under his breath.

“Yeah you’re right, I’m sorry,” Y/N recoiled, cringing.

“See, I can read you pretty well.”

“Eh, questionable.”

“Y/N.”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” she giggled.

For the first time since she’d been awake, Jake smiled at her. It was one of those smiles that was barely there but reflected pristinely in his eyes. It was the kind of smile one would give to their unrequited lover, the look of adoration that could swoop anyone off their feet. The new generation would call the look heart-eyes. For the first time that day, Jake kissed her and held her hand.

“Is that why you started travelling?” He was answered by a nod. “Do you know how many people dream of living your life?”

“Yeah, I mean, in theory it’s great,” she shrugged. “It’s even better that my dad funds for everything- hey,” she paused and looked around the room as though what she was looking for would suddenly appear in front of her.

“What, what is it?” He watched her brows furrow with her sudden epiphany.

“Where are my parents, anyway?”

“Oh, crap, we forgot to call your parents.”

Two days later, her parents arrived. Like most expected, they weren’t crying or facing any sort of grief when they saw their daughter laying in the hospital bed. A huge part of Jake was expecting to see them act like the parents he would see in one of those dramatic Korean dramas where they would hug her and demand for the hospital board to do better at their jobs but no- the pair carried themselves elegantly and powerfully, their chins held high as they were greeted by the Chief of Surgery and then Jake, the boyfriend.

When they saw Y/N, they simply asked “why didn’t you call us sooner,” and when Heeseung offered them their explanation, they only nodded and requested for some privacy. Jake wasn’t sure what they talked about in that room but he was confident that it wasn't a fight- he could barely even hear their voices when he pressed his ear against the door.

Y/N’s mother was who people imagined when imagining the heiress of a multi-million dollar company. Though her hair was long, it would always be tied in a bun and her wardrobe consisted of dresses from all the couture brands. A few strands of her hair were greying but she didn’t hide it because it added to her sophisticated nature and her eyes were always narrowed at whatever was in front of her. Hell, she didn’t even look anyone in the eye when she was being greeted by the many staff of the hospital.

Y/N’s father was pretty much the same, too. He was the owner of America’s largest publishing house- he wasn’t expected of being any less than draconian and polished.

“We should move you back to The States,” her father spoke.

“I don’t think it’ll make a difference, dad.”

“Do you want to stay here?” Her mother asked.

“I kinda do, yeah.”

“Is it because of that man?” Her father pointed his thumb towards the window, across from it stood Jake with his arms crossed. He was facing sideways, chatting with Doctor Lee Heeseung and nodding into the conversation. “He is quite dashing, no?” He turned to his wife.

“Yes, dad. His name is Jake.”

As she uttered the syllables of his name, Jake walked in with an awkward smile. He had his palms clasped, his back slightly hunched as if he was testing the waters on whether or not it was too early to enter the room.

“Oh, hey, we were just talking about you, Jake,” Y/N spoke with an almost comical monotonous tone, rolling her eyes and lulling her head into her pillow. 

“Yeah, hey,” he said. “How’s everyone feeling?”

“That is a weird question to ask, hon’” Y/N pursed her lips with secondhand embarrassment.

“Right,” he coughed.

“Are you alright, young man?” Y/N’s father asked, looking Jake up and down in concern.

“Oh, I’m fine,” Jake responded, slowly backing away towards the door. “Just thought I’d come and see how things were going. I’ll leave now,” he said and closed the door behind him. They didn’t see him walk past the glass window so they assumed he ran the other way.

“He’s dashing, I’ll agree,” her mother said. “But is he usually this awkward?”

“No, I think he was just nervous to meet you. You guys are terrible at making people comfortable, you know?”

viii. Το Τέλος

Y/N’s parents checked into a hotel not too far away from the hospital and they made frequent visits. Sometimes, they would come back with a snack or two and other times, they came back with stories from the places they visited around Seoul. Y/N would whine about how she wanted to explore too and maybe taste some local, authentic cuisine but her parents would always respond with travelling is all you’ve been doing your whole life, it’s our turn now.

Meanwhile, Jake would make frequent trips between the hospital and his childhood home. His parents would cook elaborate dinners for him and sometimes, he would bring Sunghoon, Jay and Heeseung with him too. The more the merrier, his parents would always say and Jonathan would happily supply them with foreign liquor he collected from various business trips to Australia. Such dinners would usually end with Heeseung having some sort of conversation with Jake’s parents and the other four would still be sitting on the roof, some drunk and the others trying to keep sane.

Around these times, Jake would make his way back to the hospital to check on Y/N. Most of the time, she would be sleeping due to the drugs that added just a few more days to her life but if he was lucky, she would be reading a book while a random movie played on the television. As a patient, there was only so much she could do. She and her parents had opted out of surgery or chemotherapy regardless of Doctor Lee Heeseung and Nishimura Riki’s suggestions, saying that they had tried everything they could a very long time ago. 

“So you’re just gonna let her die?” Jake questioned her parents.

“This is more painful for us than we show, son,” they responded. 

On the nights Jake found Y/N sleeping, he would somehow squeeze himself in bed beside her. He would nuzzle his head in the crook of her neck and wrap his arm around her waist, making sure to avoid the tubes that attached around her body. Sometimes, he would slip right into sleep, letting the scent of her disappearing shampoo encircle his presence. Other times, he’d find himself crying. It was either simple tears that would escape his eyes, slowly rolling past his cheeks and down his chin, drenching the pillow; or, he would find himself sobbing and would hug her tighter like a child hugging his stuffed toy tighter because he was afraid of the dark. Whimpers would rake his body and he would let pleas of her name slip past his eyes in confidence that she couldn’t hear him.

This night was one of those nights where she was still awake. The only English book the hospital had to offer was long forgotten on the bedside table and the television casted a blue light on the soft features of her face. She was smiling at the contents of the show she was watching, which he immediately recognised as the Korean drama they watched all those nights ago, back in her apartment at Positano, Italy. For a moment, he allowed himself to be transported to her apartment again, where the lights were never on and where the paint on her walls tended to chip.

“We never finished it,” Y/N said when she saw Jake strolling towards her. He sat on the little space left beside her, slipping his fingers between hers. “The show’s stupid, but it’s entertaining.”

“Said everyone about every piece of media ever,” he grinned at her.

“That’s not true,” she gasped. “There are plenty of worthy movies.”

“Name one.”

“The Wolf of Wall Street,” she said confidently. “The Great Gatsby, all the Spiderman movies, the first Now You See Me movie, Mean Girls, Babylon-”

“Ok, ok, alright,” Jake surrendered. “Mean Girls? I thought you'd say The Notebook or something?”

Y/N’s expression fell. “Real subtle, Jake.”

“I’m sorry,” he sighed. “I still can’t come to terms with it.”

Y/N could only offer him a hum, her eyes trained on the show in front of her. Jake’s hold on her hand tightened, his chest clenching at the sudden pierce in her heart. Now that he thought about it, he hadn’t felt this way since Ari’s death- more precisely, the day he found out she died. His eyes welled with tears and his head hung low.

“I still don’t understand how you’re not more bothered by this,” his voice cracked as he demanded her to look at him. His fingers grasped at her chin, tugging her attention towards him.

“Of course I’m bothered, Jake,” she said, noticing his glassy eyes. Meekly, her hands cupped his cheek, her thumb rubbing circles under his eyes. A tear stained the tip of her thumb and she sucked in a breath. “Ever since I met you, I’ve been bothered.”

“Then why aren’t you trying harder?” He croaked.

“I already have,” she said. “After we found out, my parents poured money into surgeries and chemotherapy and any other treatment that could perhaps cure me but nothing’s worked. You’d think that after so many years, there would be some new technology to save me but I’m a lost cause, honey.”

At that, Jake collapsed onto her chest. He didn’t bother hiding his cries and she didn’t care that her shirt was being drenched. She cried a few tears of her own, her hand moving to play with his hair as a form of comfort. The Korean drama was long forgotten, its contents serving the purpose of only background music.

“I almost regret not trying harder,” she sobbed.

“Why?” He spoke into her shirt.

“Because if I tried harder, then maybe we wouldn’t be in this hospital. Maybe we’d be moving in together and maybe we’d be getting married and maybe I would have had kids like I’ve always wanted.”

“I don’t even think we would have met if that tumour was taken care of.”

“Why?”

“Because you never would have started travelling- you never would have come to Italy.”

There was a painfully long silence that followed. She could feel his breath freeze against her chest, her fingers stopping their movements in his hair. His arms moved to hold her waist, pulling her closer against him and eventually, the span of his chest was against hers, his head rested in the crook of her neck, forehead against the pillow. 

“Ari was pregnant when she died,” he mumbled.

“What?”

“She never told me, I had to find out for myself,” he said. “I was only five minutes away from having the life I always dreamed of- the life you always wanted.”

“Why’re you telling me this now?” She was shaking, the arms that wrapped around his back slowly pulling away and pushing against his shoulders.

“Because I love you.”

Jake pulled away from her, his eyes holding a sense of determination. He stood across her bed, his hands fisting on his sides. The salt tracks on his cheeks were as fresh as the grass growing in the garden. As the thought of what to say next, his face scrunched up and he almost resembled a child in frustration from not getting ice cream. If they were in any other conversation or predicament, Y/N would laugh, but she was looking at him with wide eyes, stunned.

“I love you,” he repeated and sucked in a breath. “I love you.”

“Jake-”

“Marry me,” he announced, giving her a firm nod to his decision. “Marry me, even if it’s for a day, a week, a month and if we’re lucky, a year. Marry me and I’ll give you a slice of what you’ve always wanted.”

“Honey, you don’t have to marry me to give me what I want,” she cooed like she was talking to a dejected child.

“I mean it, Y/N. Marry me and-”

“Jake, you’ve given me more than what I deserve,” she gave him an assuring shake of her head.

Jake was kneeling next to her now, her hand clasped between his palms. His expression radiated hope, eyes pleading for her to give him the answer he was looking for.

“You know we can’t, Jake.”

“Aein-”

“Jake,” she repeated. “You know we can’t. You know this will hurt you more than it’ll hurt me.”

Jake sighed dejectedly, scrambling back on his feet as he towered over her. A part of him was embarrassed but the other part of him was still stuck in the images he conjured up in his head- Y/N walking down the aisle in a ridiculously expensive wedding gown and his family and friends gathered around in an intimate ceremony; Jake standing in front of her while Heeseung recited the rite of marriage with tears in his eyes. 

“You’re right.”

“If things were any different, I would have said yes,” she told him, reaching for his hand. “You know that right? I’m really sorry.”

“No, don’t be,” Jake cleared his throat and found himself sitting on the little space left on the bed. “It was a bad idea- but a man can dream, right?” He chuckled; she shook her head with a miniscule smile. 

“I wish I could say yes, Jake,” she whispered and he hugged her, his weight shifting on top of her again. Her fingers returned to his hair and his arms wrapped around her waist again. “But that was a terrible proposal though.”

“Hey, it was last minute. Did you expect flowers and a ring? A string quartet along with that?”

“Yes!”

Over the next few weeks, Y/N’s health declined, just like Doctor Lee Heeseung predicted. The hours she spent on sleep increased and the energy she put into having conversations decreased. When Jake wasn’t around to keep her company and was tending to the duties he missed out on performing as a son, Sunghoon would keep her company. Their conversations which were once filled with laughter, jokes and anecdotes eventually turned into Sunghoon speaking and Y/N humming along and eventually drifting into slumber.

Most of the time she was awake and alone, she would spend her time observing the happenings around her. She would see doctors pushing around patients in wheelchairs and she would watch clusters of families walking down the hallways. She even made a game out of it- to imagine what the respective families were agonised with. If a mother and daughter walked past, she’d imagine that the father of the family was suffering from a throat infection and if a young man walked past, she’d imagine that his sister was probably admitted for a broken leg. It was a cruel and vile game to play, she knew, but in all that she had imagined, no one was doomed to pass away like she was going to.

Sometimes, she would keep an eye out for people she could recognise. It was usually Sunghoon that walked past her room the most. If he was too busy to join her, he would excitedly wave at her with the same smile every time. He would smile at her like he didn’t notice the paling of her skin and the flattening of her hair; like he didn’t notice that it was becoming harder for her to smile. Regardless, he treated her with all the same enthusiasm, greeting her with the handshake they had formulated during their short time together and engaging her in conversation for as long as he could. Heeseung would walk past her room frequently too, and sometimes Jay but they didn’t really exchange words much. Then there was Riki, who would scurry past her room if he managed to keep away eye contact, too scared to be alone in a room with her. Sometimes, he would be accompanied by Jungwon or Sunoo, giving him all the more reason to turn his gaze away from her. If he ever found himself exchanging interactions with her, it would simply be with a ninety-degree bow and then he would be scrambling away all the same. 

On rare occasions, her parents would come to visit but they wouldn’t interact much. They simply would come in to see her and maybe kiss her forehead if they were feeling emotional. Sometimes, they would talk about the technicalities they had to deal with if she were to pass away in the recent future and for the first time in years, she saw her mother shed a tear and her father tremble with his words. The reality of her life became all too apparent by then and everyone around her came to realise that there was no escaping the inevitable.

As for Jake, there was never a time where he had to walk past her room. If he was in any vicinity close to her room, it was solely for the reason of being close to her or spending time with her. Whenever he was with her, his eyes would hold a heaviness that she wished she could wipe away, but he would mask it with a toothy smile or an anecdote from his day to lighten the atmosphere. There was, however, this one time where she saw him standing outside her room, in front of the large window, with his brother. He looked like he was on the verge of tears, shaking his head and repeating the same phrase over and over again and eventually, his forehead fell on his brother’s shoulder. She couldn’t understand what it was and before she had the chance to ask him, her eyes were already shutting from sleep kicking in again.

“You look worse than yesterday,” Jake observed on a Tuesday afternoon.

“I’m aware, Jake,” she nodded, her voice reduced to a weak whisper. “Come sit.”

Removing his hands from his pockets, he sat beside her on the bed. It was apparent that he hadn’t been styling his hair recently, his bangs covering his forehead and eventually growing long enough to even obstruct his vision. His fingers reached to ruffle his hair, attempting to push it away from his eyes. “Anything interesting happen today?” He asked like he always did.

“No,” came her answer like always. “But I was thinking of something.”

“What is it?”

“I want a proper Korean funeral,” she said without her breath hitching or her voice cracking. In fact, she even had a fulfilled smile on her face, like she was content with the life she led so far. 

Jake, on the other hand, looked at her with bewildered eyes and gaping mouth, His jaw spasmed as he thought about what to say, only to settle with “What?”

“You know, like how they show it in the k-dramas?” She elaborated.

“Yeah, I got that,” he gritted. “But why on Earth are you talking about your funeral?”

Conversations like such eventually became a common occurrence. Sometimes, she would talk about what she wanted her last meal to be or what kind of last words she could say to go down in history. Despite her frail health and disappearing voice, she sure still had a way of humouring her way through heavy discussions. She told Jake all about the souvenirs she left in her apartment back in Positano and asked him to keep her possessions safe. Guard them with your life, she said and only she laughed at her dramatics. 

Eventually, granting her last wishes became an important errand to carry out, judging by the way she could barely keep herself awake and how she would complain about her headaches more than usual. At the smallest alarms, Jake and Y/N’s family would be scrambling to order her favourite food or would be yelling down the hallway for any sort of medical assistance. The medicines ceased to work and while Jake was hoping she would experience terminal lucidity for his own selfish reason, there came a point where her heart stopped beating and even the nurse’s repeated defibrillation, the heart monitor still flatlined.

Before Y/N’s time of death was officially called by the Chief of Surgery Lee Heeseung, she had slipped into a coma for six days. Though Jake didn’t shed any tears in those six days, he was overpowered by a wave of premature grief. Perhaps it was the fact that he simply missed her voice, her human ability to respond to the sentences he spoke and the cries he let out, and even though he knew, fully and consciously knew, that the end was looming closer than he expected, he still held onto the sliver of hope maybe, she still had some time.

In those six days, Jake sat by her side just like he did the first day she was admitted. He held onto her hand at all times and would spend most of the day tracing her diminishing features, attempting to memorise her as much as he could before the worse could approach them. When he would find himself nodding off to sleep, he’d climb into the bed to sleep with her, holding her with more intensity than he thought he could fathom. He would have his meals in her room just in case she gained consciousness and he would watch movies on the small, glitchy television while sitting right beside her. Even Sunghoon couldn’t convince him to leave the damned room of 203.

Perhaps it was on the fourth day that Jake did leave the room for a break. Y/N’s parents had forced him out of the hospital due to their being worried about his well–being. They encouraged him to maybe take a walk or eat at his favourite restaurant, anything that would take his mind off Y/N. So, Sunghoon postponed a minor surgery he had scheduled and took Jake to a bar close to the hospital. This bar had always been famous amongst those who worked in Seoul National University Hospital and it was a place the pair used to frequent back in their golden days when they were still young enough to wake up healthy from a hangover and still had the youth to risk their sleep schedules. While Sunghoon hoped that their time in the would would distract Jake, he knew he was convincing himself of the impossible. Their time at the pub consisted of mostly silence and eventually, a comforting hug that ended in sobs from Jake’s end.

The seventh day soon rolled over in the form of a sunny but chilly Wednesday. The morning had started off as any other for most, Jake finding himself waking up beside the comatosed body of Y/N like he expected. He had breakfast with Jay in the room and stepped out for a brief coffee. But as birds rolled around with the afternoon, so did the declaration of her officially being cerebrally dead. She was legally dead and the news had her parents rushing into the hospital along with Doctor Nishimura Riki and even Jake’s family. Jake, however, insisted that they wait until her heart-monitor flatlined and Chief Lee Heeseung allowed it. That moment rolled around in the afternoon at exactly 15:15.

The next day, Jake found himself in one of Seoul’s many funeral houses. It was one located near the outskirts where it had a grassy backyard with a lone cherry blossom tree. He picked the particular funeral house because he knew Y/N would appreciate the scenery if she could see it for herself. The sky was clear and the sun was shining brighter than the previous day and Jake wondered if the weather was appropriate when the world just faced the loss of a unique and enticing soul. But then again, Y/N was never a fan of the rain either. It’s icky and it means I can’t go out, she would always say on rainy days.

In one of the many chambers lining the funeral house, YN’s picture sat front of centre with white chrysanthemums, single or in bouquets, surrounding her captured smile. Her eyes in the picture held a form of happiness that he hadn’t seen in months and her smile, her bright and toothy smile, would be the last of her gaiety he would see.

A limited number of guests attended her funeral. It was Jake, dressed in a newly bought suit, standing beside Y/N’s parents, greeting everyone that came to pay their respects. It was mostly people from the hospital that visited and of course, Sunghoon, Heeseung, Jay and Riki. Sunghoon spoke for Jake when he couldn’t, guiding away the mouthy guests that only made him cry more. At one point, Heeseung was comforting Riki outside of the funeral house with a hand patting his hunched back. Jake’s time inside the funeral house passed by like a fever-dream and he felt like a ghost.

After a couple hours, Jake was sauntering in the vast backyard, a white chrysanthemum clutched in his hand. His crisp suit wrinkled when he sat on the bench underneath the cherry blossom tree, taking advantage of the shade it had to offer during the sunny day. For the first time in a long time, he liked the loneliness he was feeling at that moment. While sitting amongst the leaves a cool breeze blew past him, a common butterfly flying past him, he thought of all the things Y/N might say if she were sitting beside him.

“The weather is nice.”

“Look at that butterfly!”

“I wish I could buy a cherry blossom.”

“Have you ever tried cherry blossom tea? I heard it’s heavenly.”

If he had to be honest, grief clouded his head so heavily that he couldn’t even picture her in his head, let alone try recreating her voice. He was sure the ability to imagine her would come back soon enough but for the time being, all he had were the pictures and videos left on his phone. He wanted to reminisce, look back at all the trips they took together going around the Amalfi coast and recall all the domesticity they experienced in the safety of his apartment but even if he tried, his mind chose to stay empty. Instead, he was left with the sight of the white chrysanthemum that would forever remind him of her- not the rose that he gifted her on one of their dates and not the bougainvillaea she smiled widely at when he took a picture of her with it, but the flower that gave meaning to death in the first place.

Sunghoon strolled towards him, lips pursed into a straight line and his styled bangs falling into his vision. His hand rested on his shoulder as he sat beside him, his back hunching to make himself comfortable. The pair didn’t bother saying anything to each other. Instead, Sunghoon stared at the flower he was holding, giving his shoulder another squeeze. Only a single tear rolled down his cheek that day and after a prolonged moment, Sunghoon was guiding him back to the funeral home to perform the remaining rituals.

ix. Epilogue

It had been a little over a year since Y/N’s passing away and Jake’s lifestyle went through a plethora of changes since then.

First, it’s worth mentioning that a week after Y/N’s funeral, Jake had a breakdown that almost had him running back to Italy. It would make sense that he went back, he had a business to run after all and his loyal customers were probably waiting for their fix of his confectionarries. He even had two employees to pay. Mrs Giuliani, his neighbour, even left him a sweet message, wishing him well wherever he was. However, Sunghoon didn’t let him leave, he didn’t even let him stand a chance.

“You’re living under my roof and you think you can run away from me?” He had said and threw his packed suitcases back into his room. “Go back to sleep, fucker.”

Jake only went back to Positano, Italy around a month later. He spent his time amongst the comfort of his family members and a lot of his relatives- uncles, aunts and cousins from all over Korea- came to visit him. He also spent a lot of time with Sunghoon, going around Seoul to visit all the places they once used to frequent when they were younger. They even went to the museums they never visited in honour of Y/N because she once said her favourite place to be was in any museum because standing around history reminded her of her purpose to living. 

In that year, Jake made it a habit to fly between Italy and Korea. Caffè Della Bellezza would be run by his employees while he was away so sometimes, he’d find his stay at Seoul would be extended more than it should be. He was only starting to repair whatever relationship he had left with his parents and brother, mending his friendship with Heeseung and Jay too. In that time, he even formed a relationship with Riki and they would frequently have conversations about Ari- or at least, what they could remember of her.

He even kept in frequent touch with Y/N’s parents. He would call them sir and ma’am and on the times that they connected, they would usually be having dinner in a fancy restaurant in the centre of Seoul, talking about the things Y/N never had a chance of telling him. If it were even possible, they were the ones that told him about her childhood and what she was like growing up and how she made the decision to spend the rest of her travelling in the first place.

It took him about a year to come to terms with Y/N’s death but he realised that he didn’t care how long it took. He read somewhere that all the grief and sadness he felt was the leftover love and care he never had a chance of showing her and if that were the case, Jake told himself that he would spend a decade mourning over her if he had to.

But turns out, being around those who loved him was a cure he didn’t know he needed. It had him wondering if life could have been simpler if he never moved away nine years prior, if he would still be a surgeon and living in the apartment he once shared with Ari. Perhaps he would have been living with Sunghoon- but he wasn’t up for dealing with his one-night-stands. Jake even started dating. With the help of trashy online dating apps and sometimes being set up by his peers, he had a few successful dates here and there but he never had the heart to call any of those girls for a second date. 

Overtime, that one year turned into two and then three and eventually, Jake was forgetting the count and only remembered the significant dates. In due course, Jake had come to an age where his life could be summed up to lounging on his balcony with a cup of sweet tea, enjoying the beautiful sunsets of Positano in remembrance of the girl that gave him a second chance, the girl that taught him to live again.

#i am in TEARS #i am SOBBING RN #i have nothing else to say #read this masterpiece if you want to break your own heart #in the middle of nowhere from the middle of nowhere #ckvsen #sim jaeyun #my love

[sleepingrenjun]

you complete mess - p.sh

— you complete mess (HIS PROFILE)

➤ summary : sunghoon, the co-captain of the rugby team is cocky and confident- almost too cocky and confident. you want to bring his ego down a little bit before you go any further. will this make sunghoon lose the bet, or is it just to more of his advantage?

➤ sunghoon+reader | smut, angst, PWP | includes degradation, choking, spiting lol

➤ word count : 10,262

part of the bets are meant to be won series

minors dni

you were never close to sunghoon park.

you had mutual friends, hung out at the same houses, and went to see movies together with friends, but neither of you would say that you were close with each other.

you tried to be friends with sunghoon during the early years of high school, but he made it extremely difficult to be friends with you. you could sense that he was uncomfortable around you, and often you wondered if he didn't like you. though your friend jake reassured you that it was just because you were a girl, and sunghoon was uncomfortable around all girls.

even when you asked jay about sunghoon, jay explained that sunghoon was just an awkward guy, especially around girls, and that it had nothing to do with you.

still, it was upsetting that you could see sunghoon laugh and talk with jay and jake at the cafeteria table, but as soon as you sat down with them, sunghoon's smile would drop, and his shoulders would tense up. you knew sunghoon was a nice boy since jake had chosen him to be friends with, so you didn't mind being around him, even if he never even made eye contact with you.

one thing that you and sunghoon found refuge in each other is that both of you were highly introverted. there would be times that jake and jay would run off to a group of people and start talking to them even if they didn't know them, or people would come to your little group and start talking to jake and jay. during those times, it was as if you and sunghoon were invisible to everyone except each other. eyes would roll when some people would come up to your table and pat jake on the back or high-five jay, eye rolls that only you and sunghoon would notice and take part in.

it wasn't a shock to you that sunghoon remained close to jake when your and jake's friendship ended. he was always with jake, and it seemed as if he admired jake a lot. whatever jake did, sunghoon would do, too. jake and sunghoon both tried out for the rugby team simultaneously and earned a position. sunghoon quickly earned the position of co-captain, and it boosted his ego more than it would have anyone else.

sunghoon was tired of being introverted and seen as a loser. he was tired of seeing his two best friends get every single girl they landed their eyes on. when the three of them had first started going to parties together, sunghoon couldn't count on his hands how many times jake and jay had forgotten about him; he had to walk home alone when his social anxiety and introvertedness kicked in full drive.

sunghoon thinks to himself that joining the rugby team was the best thing he could have ever done for himself and his reputation.

he also felt like he owed part of it to jake.

jake was always the one to try to get sunghoon out of his shell. when jake first started to gain popularity, he didn't hesitate to introduce sunghoon to everyone, even if sunghoon struggled to keep eye contact with them. sunghoon was sure that at first, all of jake's new popular friends thought he was a loser, which is why they accepted jake so quickly into their friend group and accepted sunghoon almost a year later.

sunghoon liked to work out. he thinks at first he only started working out so he could join the rugby team and so that people wouldn't think of him as that much of a loser anymore. but over time, he's come to love it and needs to do it everyday so he can relieve some of the pressure he's feeling. sunghoon has worked his ass off for the rugby team because he's known that it's the only thing that can get him into university.

sunghoon's almost too painfully aware that he's nowhere near as intelligent as jay or jake. he sees himself as the 'dumb' friend, which he can ignore most of the time. he knows that his friends don't care about how high or low his grades are, but that doesn't mean others don't. sunghoon can't help but compare himself to his best friends. they're the trio, but they all give different things to their little group.

jay's smart, practically a genius, and witty, and he has had a future of an affluent lifestyle at his fingertips since he was born. jake's extroverted and charming; people flock to him since he leaves such a significant imprint on them even after talking to them for only five minutes.

sunghoon is pretty.

and he feels like that's the only characteristic of his that he is known for. and the fact that he fucks around with a lot of girls. sure, jake and jay mess around with a handful of girls too, but even they know that sunghoon gets the most. the whole school knows that sunghoon has lost count of how many girls he has gotten with.

sunghoon thought it was cool at first that so many girls liked him, but over time he's started to lose interest in the fact. he doesn't like the idea that no one will ever take him as seriously as they do jay or jake.

so he knows that you won't ever take him seriously.

sunghoon knows he's had feelings for you since jake introduced you two in freshman year. he thought you were the most beautiful girl then, and even now, he knows that no one has ever compared to your beauty.

when he, jake, jay and you all hung out, sunghoon still hadn't come out of his shell, and he never tried to. it was hard for him to talk to everyone else, let alone you. you made him more socially awkward and shy than anyone else ever has. he couldn't help but clamp up whenever you were around, which was basically all the time at first.

he remembers that jake and jay used to tease him about it and tell him that you were asking them about him, asking them if he hated you or something. it hurt him to know that his socially awkward tendencies were hurting you, but he would have never dared to say anything back then. though, he cherished all the times you'd stay back with him when jake or jay left to go interact with others or give each other the knowing look of when people would suddenly surround half of the table the four of you were sitting at only on jay and jake's side.

when jake first started getting into the popular side of high school, sunghoon remembers thinking about what would happen to him. You clearly didn't care about being popular or liked, and you didn't want to be. you preferred to stay back against the walls and watch everyone. sunghoon remembers agreeing with you back then, and maybe even part of him now still agrees.

sunghoon wishes he could have talked to you more when he had the chance (multiple chances!!!!) to. when he first started to gain popularity, he would often see you in the halls or cafeteria, always sitting in the back corner with your friend. he would think about walking over there and talking to you, but he knew he'd never act on his thoughts. he was sure that you practically forgot all about him as if you guys were never friends.

sunghoon sometimes wonders if you'd like the guy he is now; more mature, masculine, and confident. he imagines that you like guys who are more like the way he is now and less like the way he was when you were friends. he's been conditioned to think that the way he is now is the type of guy all girls like since he only started to get girls' attention when he changed into who he is now.

sunghoon doesn't like to say that he carries himself with a false confidence about him because he is confident. there's just something about his inner, more introverted self that he feels clawing at him in the back of his mind that he chooses to ignore on most days.

sunghoon didn't mind jake's idea of the bet per se, but he did, in fact, mind that he was competing to get your affection with two other guys, whether they were his friends or not. sunghoon could admit that he was the jealous type, but he couldn't ever admit that he was jealous of a girl that wasn't even remotely his.

at least for now.

it took you almost a week to tell haewon about what had happened with jay when you went to his house. you had never kept things from haewon before, but this seemed like something she would disagree with. Especially since she had shown her discontentment with the trio multiple times before.

haewon didn’t shy away from telling you that she wasn’t fond of you being friends with jay again, warning you multiple times about his true intentions. and you’d be lying if you said you weren’t wishing to have taken her warnings seriously, especially now since you haven’t spoken to jay since you left his house on the weekend.

you figured you would see him in class like you usually did, especially now that he had kicked your seatmate out of her spot so he could sit with you instead. but when you walked into class on monday, you were surprised to see your original seatmate, yuna, sitting in her usual spot. when you asked her what happened to jay sitting there, she shrugged and told her that he had changed his mind. jay didn’t even bother showing up for that class even though yuna had seen him earlier in the day.

you contemplated texting him to ask what’s up with his mood swing but decided against it. jay park has hurt you once again, and this time it hurt one thousand times more than the first time.

you should’ve listened to haewon.

you didn’t know how to bring it up to her again or even word it properly if you had brought it up. but thankfully, haewon noticed every little thing about you and asked at the end of the week.

“so, how’s your new best bud, jay park?” haewon asks over her sandwich as the two of you sit in the cafeteria for lunch.

you shift awkwardly in your seat across from her, your eyes not leaving the book you were trying to read, “uh, he’s good, i guess.”

“oh, c’mon, y/n, i haven’t heard you mention him or see you with him since last week, so what? did you change your mind about becoming friends with him again?” haewon looks at you with an exasperated expression, a look of knowing that indicates she’s been onto you for days now.

“it’s not that hae,” you shake your head at her.

haewon sets her elbows on the table as she tilts her head in confusion, “what do you mean?”

“well,” you start, anxiousness starting to bubble up in your throat, “we haven’t spoken since i left his house on saturday.”

“what?” haewon asks, a flash of anger mixing in with confusion in her eyes, “why?”

“i don’t know, but he hasn’t even been showing up to class, and he told yuna that she can have her spot next to me back.”

“what the hell? did he mention anything to you before you left his house?”

“no, just that he’d see me on monday, but he never did.”

“that’s really weird, y/n, i’m sorry.”

“it’s alright,” you shrug hesitantly, “i just don’t know what happened.”

“what did you guys do at his house?” haewon asks the question you wish she wouldn’t.

“um,” you start, trying to form a way to say it so she wouldn’t automatically disagree with your past decisions and judge you for it, “we just hung out in his bedroom and studied.”

haewon hums, “then i don’t see what would have happened for him to avoid you.”

“well,”

haewon raises her eyebrow to inquire, “well, what?”

“well, we might’ve had sex while studying in his bedroom.”

haewon stays silent as she processes your sentence. her eyes seem to check out reality as the word ‘sex’ leaves her mouth. you catch the way she gulps roughly and swallows the spit that had formed in her mouth. her face remains expressionless when you call out her name, hoping to get her to say anything, but she remains silent.

she remains silent until she’s swinging her backpack over her shoulder and standing up, the foot of her chair scraping against the cafeteria floor loudly and roughly. It makes everyone turn and look at the two of you.

“hae, wait- what’s wrong-?” you start, wanting to reach out to her from across the table and force her to sit back down so you can talk.

“i- just can’t, y/n,” haewon replies, shaking her head and looking towards the cafeteria doors, not being able to look at you, “i just gotta go.”

“haewon, wait?” you call out to her again. Still, she’s already started walking in a straight line toward the exit doors of the cafeteria. the lunch room had grown quieter as they watched the interaction between you and your best friend, sensing your irritation.

when the cafeteria doors close after haewon’s departure, everyone slowly turns back into their seats, and it’s not long until the loud chatter picks up again from everyone. you continue to sit in your spot with your head turned down so you can only see the light pencil marks on the cafeteria table. your opened textbooks and notes are forgotten as your emotions consume your mind, and you try to process what had just happened with haewon.

you had expected haewon to be annoyed with you for having sex with the boy that not only her, but you as well have talked shit about so many times before. haewon was your best friend, and even though she was a little standoff with your reconciled friendship with jay, she still accepted that you could be friends with whoever you wanted. She always looked out for you and wanted the best for you.

you wish you had listened to haewon’s advice and never became friends with jay park again because maybe now you’d still be best friends with haewon.

It has been over a week since jay had taken the lead in the bet the boys have all accepted, and neither sunghoon nor jake had attempted to be the second.

sunghoon knew that it was his chance to be next. His chance limit was decreasing by the day since jake’s been caught up with running auditions for the rugby team this year and studying for his extra AP classes. sunghoon knew that if he didn’t take his chance with you by friday, that jake would get with you next. and sunghoon didn’t like the thought of having you after both of his friends had.

sunghoon’s dainty, pale finger repeatedly tapped on the corner of his desk, thoughts running through his mind of you and how he could ever get a chance with you. it wasn’t like you and him were close like you and jay were, so it wasn’t easy for him to walk up to you and talk to you so casually. plus, there was another factor to this bet now that jay had taken the lead; if sunghoon approached you with the idea of sex so obvious, you would surely catch on that the three of them were up to something.

so, sunghoon has to figure out a way to get you in his bed without raising your concerns that anything considered a bet is taking place.

the brief thought crosses his mind that if any of his classmates looked at him right now, they would surely think he was cracked out. he felt his jaw tighten, and his gaze was tight as he zoned out on the blackboard at the front of the class, waiting for the bell to ring so he could go home and think about you in peace. he knew his time was leaving quickly, and he only had three more days until his perfect chance week was over, and jake would no longer be busy.

sunghoon knew that out of the three of them, he had the least of the chance to be able to get with you, as jay and you bonded over academic qualities and shared a lot of classes together. also, jake and you grew up together, shared holidays, and your families were friends.

sunghoon felt like it was hard to talk to you in freshman year, but now, three years later, it was nearly impossible.

when the day's final bell rang, sunghoon jumped up and slung his backpack over his shoulder, running out of the class, not caring if his broad shoulder bumped into anyone or the nasty glare from that someone. the only things on his mind were you, time, and a tiny bit of rugby. sunghoon was throwing open his locker in no time to grab his jacket and other work. He was planning on just getting home for the weekend until a hand grasps his shoulder from behind.

“fuck!” sunghoon exclaims, his body jumping slightly out of shock from the sudden contact. his eyes meet his best friend. He takes a breath out of relaxation, “do you always have to scare me, bro?”

“i’m sorry, hoon, i didn’t even mean to this time,” jay laughs, shaking his shoulder quickly before he lets his hand drop back to his own side, “what were you thinking about that you didn’t even notice me coming?”

sunghoon shakes his head as he shoves his jersey into his backpack, “nothing, just got a lot of homework.”

“ah,” jay nods, “you need any help with it?”

sunghoon tries to not roll his eyes at his friend, insinuating that he always needs help with his homework, “no, i got it this time, thanks though.”

jay shrugs, “it’s no problem.” he leans back against the closed lockers, watching as everyone starts leaving the school and as sunghoon continues to throw things in his bag until he is closing his locker again, “but hey, hoon,”

“yeah?” sunghoon turns his head to look at his friend, meeting his now worried eyes.

“have you,” jay starts, turning his body so his one shoulder is leaned against the lockers and he’s facing sunghoon; his eyes quickly scan the emptying hallways, “seen y/n recently?”

the mention of your name makes sunghoon’s heart pick up the pace, but he does not react to it, “uh, no? why, what‘s up?”

jay sighs with a shrug, “nothing, i just haven’t talked to her since she left my house.”

“what?” sunghoon jerked his head back in confusion, “why not? i thought you were becoming friends again.”

“well, i guess we were, but then we had sex, and i don’t know, i didn’t want to make it more confusing for us all with this bet thing and everything.”

“so, you’re avoiding her?”

“no- yes, i guess, but i don’t want to, i feel bad.”

“well, how about you just go and talk to her?”

“i want to! but i know she’s mad at me.”

“how do you know she’s mad at you?” sunghoon questions his best friend further.

jay’s shoulders straighten at the question, and sunghoon pics up the change in his friend’s aura; his worried expression changes into an expressionless one, “i don’t know, i just get the vibe that she would be mad after what we did and after what i’ve done.”

“right,” sunghoon nods, “well, i guess you’ll have to wait until this whole bet thing is over then,”

“yeah, if it ever does end,” jay perks up again, throwing his arm around sunghoon’s shoulders, “when are you going to talk to her? you know jake’s been real busy this week, so he hasn’t had the time too!”

“i know, i know,” sunghoon nods again, hating having to hear what he’s been thinking from someone else, “ i will soon, don’t worry.”

“trust me, bro, i’m not worried at all.”

sunghoon shoves jay with an annoying smile on his face, making jay laugh as he follows sunghoon down the hall, both of them having thoughts of you on their minds as they leave the school for the day.

you hate having presentations. you hate having to speak in front of the class about a topic that they surely don’t care about and aren’t listening to. you hate having to wake up early so you can get to school earlier and have time to practice before class. though, since it’s summer, you don’t mind walking to school in the early morning weather. it’s not humid or cold, and it’s nice seeing all the flowers start to grow back for the season ahead of them.

the school has always seemed to be different in the early morning of the summer. it was somehow cleaner, more open and quiet. your hair feels lighter, and you feel softer in a way. you liked the sound of your shoes hitting the hallway floors as you made your way to the library, with the rustle of your backpack brushing against your back as you walked.

there’s no one to snake your way through in the hallways, no mix of perfumes, cologne and B.O that fills your nostrils and no loud noise that makes you not able to hear your own thoughts.

At that time of morning at school, the only ones that are usually there are people in the library that want to quietly work on an assignment and the rugby team practicing in the field and crowding around in the boys’ change room. part of you was glad that jay hadn’t made his way onto the rugby team after all.

today, you had to stop by your locker before heading straight to the library, it was out of the way, and it annoyed you, but you just had to go. the third floor was usually a quieter floor in the school, but it was especially quiet in the morning. your locker creaks almost too loudly as you open it and start to rummage around in it to look for the book you had somehow lost in the small locker. when you stand up with the book in your hand, you hear someone walking down the hall, and you’re quick to turn and meet the eyes of sunghoon park. without thinking much, you turn back to the book you’re holding, ready to leave for the library with it.

“uh, y/n.” your name being spoken by a voice you barely recognized. you could hear the faint tone of how sunghoon’s voice used to sound in freshman year, but it was deeper now and more mature.

you turn your head back to where sunghoon is; he was closer before and standing a meter away from you, “yeah?” you ask, trying to mask the confusion in your voice.

you didn't mask it too well because sunghoon definitely picked up on it and cringed at himself for making it so awkward between you two, “uh,” sunghoon tried to start, not knowing where he was going with this. he had racked his brain all night with the way he could talk to you, but none of them seemed to suit him or would end up with the excellent result that he wanted.

but when he saw you at your locker at seven in the morning with no one else around and only having two days left before he could get a chance to talk to you without jake interfering, he just knew that god, or whatever holy figure there was, gave him this moment.

“you okay?” you ask him, closing your locker to lean on it.

“uh yeah!: sunghoon nodded, straightening his back, “i was just, uh, wondering how you were.”

“me?” you ask and try to hide your confusion more when he nods, “i’m good, i guess. how are you?”

“i’m fine, good, yeah.” sunghoon speaks, cringing at himself again.

sunghoon doesn’t know what’s wrong with him. he’s talked to multiple girls before, and it was something that had become so easy for him that he bragged about him being able to do it in his sleep. he could pick up any girl he wanted, but you were proving that maybe he couldn’t.

it was then that sunghoon realized that he was feeling like he was in freshman year again, trying, struggling to talk to you because he felt inferior to you because you were so out of his league. he felt insecure again and like he was that tall, lanky nerd again that never left his bedroom and only played video games.

sunghoon knew that that wasn’t him anymore. he was confident and good looking, and he no longer stayed huddled inside on the weekends anymore, his face practically pressed up against his computer screen. so he needed to snap out of this, and he needed to quick before his chance was gone.

“i heard you were at jay’s a couple of weeks ago,” sunghoon nods his chin at you. you felt intimidated by him suddenly. his eyes never left yours, and the signature smirk he was known for was playing on his rosy lips. his shoulders looked broad in his jersey uniform, and his hair was pushed back from the morning wind and his fingers.

“oh, yeah.”

sung hoon steps forward, so he’s closer to you, and you wonder what happened to the sunghoon that you had just seen seconds before. the sunghoon before reminded you awfully of the one that you were once acquainted with, and now this one in front of you was the sunghoon park you had only seen briefly in the halls and had heard rumours about, “did you have fun?”

you gulped at his question, knowing that surely he knew what you and jay had done in jay’s bedroom, “yeah, i guess.”

“you guess?” sunghoon tilted his head at your question, he was now even closer to you, and you could smell his cologne now; it was something oaky and musky, and it seemed to you that he wouldn’t have smelt any other way.

“yeah, i guess.”

you’re more confident with your answer the second time, and sunghoon can’t help but let his smirk grow into a smile. “why do you only guess that you had fun?”

you tilt your head up at him now, “because i haven’t seen jay since, so i can’t really say if it was that much fun then.”

sunghoon straightens his back again, and his quick smile fades off of his face, “right.” he sees the way you roll your eyes at his short answer, but you don’t say anything, “look,” sunghoon's voice is different again, and it shocks you, so you do look at him, “jay’s just really moody, he gets like this sometimes. some days he’s the most fun person to be around, and other times he’s a self-isolating asshole.” you slightly nod along to his words, “it’s a stress thing really, so you shouldn’t take it personally.”

sunghoon doesn’t know why he was saying this; if he was smart like jay or jake, he would’ve used your anger towards jay as an advantage to get close to you, turn it around so you fall right into his arms in hopes that he could make you feel better. he’s sure that if this was just some other girl in front of him, he wouldn’t have thought twice about doing it, but you were y/n! and you had this sad look in your eye that you were trying to cover with pure anger and annoyance that sunghoon couldn’t help but want to make you feel better. he wanted to reach out and pull you into his chest, but god forbid his life if he ever did that.

“right, okay.” you nod at him, a soft smile making its way onto your face for the first time since you have spoken to each other, “thanks, i guess.”

sunghoon mumbles that it’s whatever, and he starts to walk down the all again, his face still towards you. he takes slow steps as he tries to think about something else he could say. something else that would continue this conversation and get you to fall into his arms and, well, maybe his bed. just as he mentally accepts that this conversation is over and starts to turn around, you call his name, and he thinks he’s hearing things.

“hoon,” you call him again, and he turns around to look at you.

“yeah?”

“why did you ask me about jay in the first place?” you ask him, and sunghoon knew that you were going to think or ask that question. you were smart, and he knew you’d pick up on it.

sunghoon shrugs and hates how easy it is for his other identity to take over for him. he feels his smirk itch it's way onto his face, and the look in his eyes becomes lighter in a way, more carefree as he speaks, “just wanted to tell you that you’d have more fun with me.”

you look and feel taken aback by his words. it was as if the statement proved to you that the sunghoon you knew in freshman year was, in fact, gone and was replaced with the man in front of you. everything that you had ever heard of him was true, which included all the good and bad things as well. his jet black was falling onto his forehead now, covering his eyes as he continued to stare down at you, not backing away from the eye contact. both of you pick up on how heavy your chest is breathing, “and how would you know that?”

sunghoon lets out a dry, short laugh as he steps closer to you again, his long legs taking long strides at a quick pace, so he’s backed you up against the locker. his face is close to yours, and that okay, musky scent is back and filling up your senses. his nose is almost touching yours, and your eyes switch from looking into his light ones to the pretty mole on the bridge of his nose, “because everyone always has more fun with me.”

something with the statement makes you snap out of the odd trance his prettiness has put you in, and your hands push against his shoulders to make some space between you, “well, i’m not everyone, so why would i have more fun with you?”

sunghoon ignores the weird palpitation in his heart and keeps his confident expression on his face, his shoulders burning where you touched him. your answer was such a y/n answer that it made him want to laugh at how well he really knows you, “i know that.” his voice is sultry as he acknowledges your statement, coming closer to you again but not as close as before. you can feel his warmth on your chest as his slim finger reaches out and pushes a strand of your hair behind your ear. you have to fight the urge to gasp out as his finger brushes your cheek before it meets your hair, “what’re you doing tomorrow night?”

“tomorrow night?” you repeat back, your mind feeling foggy from the reality you were currently in. sunghoon hums as a confirmation, “uh, nothing.”

sunghoon smirks at your answer and is suddenly standing a meter away from you, and it makes you want to grab hold of his hoodie and bring him back into you, “ok, then how about we do something together so you can see what i mean when i say that you’ll have more fun with me.”

“like what?”

sunghoon shrugs, “like anything you want.”

“can you come to my house?”

sunghoon thinks he’s hearing things when the six words leave your mouth. he’s heard the six words or other variations of them from other girls plenty of times, but your voice and presence make them mean so much more to him than ever before, “yeah, i can.”

“i’m not like everyone else, sunghoon,” you remind him, a smirk of your own playing on your lips as you speak, and sunghoon’s own doesn’t fade.

“i know you’re not, y/n,” sunghoon nods as he starts to walk backwards down the hall, “i know, so i’ll see you tomorrow.”

“see you tomorrow,” you repeat, and the last thing you see is his smile as he turns around in time to walk down a separate hall, out of sight and headed probably back to the field.

you forget what you’re doing and where you are until your finger scratches against the book in your arms. you look down at the book and curse at yourself for having less time to practice your presentation now.

but at least now you have plans for tomorrow night.

although you haven’t spoken to haewon in days, and she’s been ignoring your texts and calls, she still fills your mind. there had been many conversations between you two about the boy trio at school. there had probably been more conversations about sunghoon park out of the three of them. most of the conversations about sunghoon were about how cocky he was and how big his ego had grown throughout the years. you remember a time when you had told haewon that you wished someone would humble sunghoon, even if it was just a little bit. it was apparent to everyone how high sunghoon thinks of himself just by how he walks down the halls, runs down the rugby fields and talks to girls.

you agreed to hang out with sunghoon for three reasons.

the first reason was for haewon. you wanted to do this for haewon and bring sunghoon’s ego down a little bit, knowing that it was something haewon despised about the rugby player. you wanted to be able to tell her the look on sunghoon’s face when you humbled him with a detailed description and hear her almost evil laugh as you did.

the second reason was that you wanted to see for yourself if the sunghoon you had once known was really gone. if there wasn’t even a slight chance of him being in there underneath the cocky aura sunghoon almost put on. if he really was a pure workout-aholic with player tendencies. Some of you hoped that the nerdy and shy sunghoon park you once knew was there, and you hoped that he would show you.

the third and final reason was that a part of you wanted to see if what you had heard from other girls was true. could he really be as seductive as they all say? could he really make girls scream as they cum? you could never really believe that a teenage boy knew how to pleasure a girl, especially not the shy and awkward sunghoon park.

you know that you would never hook up with sunghoon park, especially not after what happened between you and jay. However, it might be in your best interest to fuck jay’s best friend. maybe then jay would talk to you again or act like he knows who you are again.

as you wait for sunghoon to arrive at your house, you wonder if any of your three reasons to hang out with him will be fulfilled. you hope he leaves tonight with you knowing at least something about him.

a knock on your door signals that sunghoon is here, and you try to push down the excitement in your chest as you rush and open the door. a tall sunghoon stands on your front step; his black hair falls over his forehead as he smirks down at you when you reveal yourself.

“hey,”

“hi, sunghoon,”

after a moment of staring at each other, he speaks again, “uh, can i come in, or are we just going to stand here all night?”

“oh right!” you jump back, so there’s room for him to walk past you, “come in!” his dry chuckle makes you embarrassed as he walks into your house. “uh, we can go up to my room, if you want.”

sunghoon nods, “yeah, that’s fine.”

sunghoon follows you up to your bedroom; you see him examining your house and its walls as he does. sunghoon has been in your home before during freshman year, and you wonder if he remembers any of it. when you step into your bedroom and close the door after him, he stands in the middle of your room, examining it as he did on the way through your house. you feel awkward as it's silent in your bedroom with each other, and you wonder if he’s judging how you’ve decorated the place.

“it looks really different from how i remember it.” sunghoon states, turning around to look at you leaning up against the door.

“uh, yeah. i’ve changed it around a lot, i guess.”

“you got rid of those one direction posters beside your bed.” sunghoon points to the wall that now holds pictures of you and haewon.

“yeah, i kinda grew out of them, i’m not really fifteen anymore,” you watch as sunghoon walks over to the pictures of you and haewon taped up on your wall. he leans down to examine the ones lower than his head, “that’s haewon.”

“haewon, right.” sunghoon repeats her name and nods.

“you know her?” you ask him, noticing the recognition in his eyes as he looks at your pictures.

“no,” sunghoon’s quick to answer, his head spinning to look at you as he straightens his back, “no, i’ve just seen her with you a lot, like in the cafeteria.”

“oh,” you smile confusedly, “i didn’t know you saw me that much,”

sunghoon scoffs, “what do you mean? i see you all the time sitting in the back corner of the caf,”

“well, i guess i’ve never noticed you looking at me; every time i see you in the hallways, it’s like we don’t know each other.”

sunghoon sits on the side of your bed, with his feet still planted on the carpeted floor underneath you, “yeah, ‘m sorry about that, i don’t know why it’s like that,”

this time you scoff, “maybe it’s because you got popular and i didn’t,”

sunghoon shakes his head quickly, the solemn look on his face not leaving,” no, i could’ve tried to stay friends with you more, i just never knew how to talk to you, i guess,”

“well, you’re talking to me fine now,” you point out, and he nods, “and it’s kinda weird.”

“what?” sunghoon laughs out, “what do you mean weird,”

a grin itches onto your face, “well, i mean, you used to find it so hard to talk to me when we all hung out, so i guess you really have changed since you’re even able to make eye contact with me now.”

sunghoon puts his hands over his face and leans back on his bed, “oh my god, don’t bring that time up,”

“why not, hoon?” you laugh as you move across the room, sitting on the edge of the bed in front of him, “you’re different now, right? really different from what i’ve heard,”

“from what you’ve heard?” sunghoon spreads his fingers so his eyes can look at you through them, “what have you heard about me?”

you shrug, “ i don’t know, just some stuff?”

sunghoon sits up now to inquire, “like what stuff?” the smirk is back on his face as he asks you, “tell me.”

“i don’t know, hoon, just stuff about what you and the guys do,” you suddenly want to curl up and die than talk about his apparent sex life. you thought it would be easy to confront him about his changes and reputation with girls. Still, as he sits in front of you in your bed in your house all alone, you find the situation intimidating.

“okay,” sunghoon drawls out, “what do me and the guys do?”

without even looking at him, you can hear the evil smirk on his face and the playfulness playing in his eyes as he questions you further, “sunghoon,” you whine out, “i don’t know, just forget i said anything,”

“no, tell me,” sunghoon moves over on the edge of the bed, so he’s beside you now, “you said i’m different, and i wanna know how.”

you sigh and look up at him through your eyelashes nervously, “just that, you talk to a lot of girls now and go to a lot of parties and stuff.”

“i talk to a lot of girls?” sunghoon repeats, his smirk not leaving his face, “and i just talk to these apparent girls?”

“well, you do things, with girls,”

sunghoon chuckles quietly, “what type of things y/n? you’ve gotta be more descriptive than that. wouldn’t you want to know the exact things i’ve heard about you?”

“what have you heard about me?”

“nuh uh,” sunghoon shakes his head, “i’m not telling you until you tell me exactly what you’ve heard about me.”

you sigh again and look at him, “i’ve heard you’ve done a lot, of sexual things with girls, and that- that you,”

“i what?” sunghoon probes you, and you’re now fully aware that his oaky and musky smell is infiltrating your room and senses.

“that you’re good at it,” you look at him and notice his eyebrow quirked, “the sexual things.” a look of recognition spreads across sunghoon’s face now that you’ve gone into detail about him. He realizes what you’re talking about.

sunghoon nods, “well, i am good at it.”

“and that’s why you have sex like every day?”

sunghoon now laughs, his head swinging forward as he clenches his stomach, “what? i don’t have sex like every day, y/n.”

“well, that’s what i heard.” you bite back your smile at the sound of his laughter.

“i actually haven’t had sex in a while.”

“what?” you exclaim at his confession.

“well, i mean, i’ve gotten a few blowjobs over the past two months, but i haven’t had sex.”

“what’s made you stop having sex then,” you ask, trying to ignore the part about the various blowjobs he’s gotten.

sunghoon shrugs then, “i don’t know, i just don’t want to.”

his blatant statement of agreement from before makes you question further, “and then what makes you so sure that you’re so good at it? you’re always so cocky about yourself, even yesterday when you were saying i’d have more fun with you than with jay.”

“i’m not cocky, i’m just confident.”

you roll your eyes, “okay, then why are you always so confident about everything, especially with sex stuff?”

sunghoon shrugs, “because i know what i can and can’t do, so why shouldn’t i be cocky about it,” sunghoon adds a sarcastic tone to the word cocky as he responds to you.

“and what do you apparently know how to do?”

“how to get a girl to cum.” your jaw drops at his honesty, and you feel redness flush your cheeks. his intimidating aura has taken over your own bedroom. ”do you not believe me, y/n?” you feel him move closer to you as he asks. you don’t look up from the blanket but see his knees almost touching your own. his voice is closer to your ear and quieter now when he speaks again, “do you want me to show you?”

you turn your head upwards at his question. when you look at his face again, he’s calm as usual, and his face is closer than before. his smirk remains on his face as he scans your shocked one. your noses are almost touching again, like yesterday. Still, this time it isn’t in a public school hallway, but the privateness of your own bedroom.

suddenly, sunghoon’s bare hand is gripping your outer leg that was dangling off the bed and swooping it onto the bed, so it’s laying straight with your other one as he crawls on top of you. your legs are trapped between his as he kneels over you, your head and body falling back to lay on your bed as he moves your legs.

“i asked you a question, y/n, don’t make me repeat it,” his face is close to yours, and his voice is low as he speaks.

You now stare up at his stern and lust-filled eyes, and you push down all the nervousness in your chest as you speak, “yes.”

“yes what?”

“yes, i want you to show me.”

sunghoon’s smirk turns evil before he presses his lips into yours. his warm lips feel different than jay’s. and you can’t tell which pair of lips you like more. sunghoon’s are fuller as they mesh into your own, swapping saliva already.

the mess he’s already creating on your lips reminds you that you’ve heard how much sunghoon’s likes it messy. he creates a mess before, during and after he fucks, and it’s something that makes you feel a rush of wetness in your panties.

sunghoon grinds his hips into your core as you continue to kiss feverishly. the friction from his jeans rubbing against your clit through the fabric of your skirt and panties has started to make your clit throb. sunghoon’s hands begin to travel down your sides and rest at your waist. your noses are brushing against each other from how close and obnoxious you are kissing. your bedroom is full of wet noises coming from your tongues intertwining.

when sunghoon pulls away from your mouth, a string of saliva connects you two before it quickly disperses, “are you wet for me, y/n?”

though your folds are dripping from how turned on and excited you are, you shake your head no. your chest is heaving from being out of breath, and sunghoon only quirks his eyebrow up in disbelief as he observes your breathing and your answer.

“really? can i check then y/n?”

you nod your head, and sunghoon’s intimidating expression fades for a second as he presses a quick, almost innocent kiss to your cheekbone. his expression makes him look boyish again like you’re both fifteen and hanging out in your bedroom for the first time. the boyish aura of his fades, and his prior, usual intimidating expression returns.

sunghoon’s hands quickly push your skirt up so it bunches at your waist. Both eyes meet at your now exposed panty core, and neither is surprised to see a wet patch growing on it. you hear sunghoon chuckle dryly before his index finger reaches out and circles around the wet patch. you have to try to force yourself to not make a sound at the feeling of it.

after everything you’ve heard about sunghoon and how he treats girls and apparently makes them cum fast, you didn’t want to give in so easily to him. the whole reason why you’re in your bed right now is that he thinks he can make you feel better than jay can. you don’t care who makes you feel better; at this rate, you’re sure both of them are equally good, and sunghoon hasn’t even made you cum yet. but sunghoon’s over-the-top ego annoys you, and you want to humble him, especially in the sexual department.

sunghoon’s finger pressing harder into your core made you need to force your hips to remain flat on the bed. you’ve noticed how pretty sunghoon’s hands were before, even when you were acquaintances. they were pale and slender and his fingers were long and dainty. you’ve thought briefly about how far they could reach inside you from their length.

his finger moves up more over your panties and is now rubbing circles directly on your clit. he’s rubbing in different patterns and making the muscles in your stomach clench from the pressure.

“sunghoon,” you let out his name, and the cocky expression on his face makes you regret it.

“yes, y/n?” sunghoon brings his face closer to yours again. when you don’t answer he continues, “do you want me to add another finger y/n? want me to slip my fingers underneath your panties so you can feel my fingers even better?” your lack of response makes sunghoon chuckle. He presses his nose into your cheek playfully. “just tell me what you want y/n and i can give it to you.” when you still don’t answer, his finger starts to slow anganoizally down its pace.

“no,” you whine, your hips moving upwards to give his finger more pressure on your clit.

sunghoon smirks, “then tell me what you want y/n; tell me how you want to feel good.”

you sigh and curse at yourself for giving in slowly. Still, the urge to cum was growing like the wetness between your thighs, “i want your fingers underneath my panties; want to feel your fingers.”

sunghoon’s smirk grows wider at your statement and he leans down to press a sloppy kiss onto your lips. his fingers do as you say, slipping underneath the fabric of your underwear and meeting your throbbing, swollen clit. you let out a quiet whimper at the feeling of his fingers touching your clit and start to rub circles around it. at the same time, sunghoon lets out a groan as he feels your wetness.

“jesus christ, y/n.” sunghoon slips his fingers out of your panties and you’re about to complain until he brings his fingers so both of you can see them in front of your face. his fingers are glistening with your juices and they’re literally sticking to his fingers. he spreads his index and middle finger apart and is connected and coated together with your clear juices.

you want to tell him to put his fingers back into your panties now, but you thought that would be too much for his ego and you know he’d never let you live the moment down. but you’re thrilled you didn’t because sunghoon sticks his juice coated fingers into his mouth and moans loudly at your taste.

“sunghoon,” you reach out and grab the wrist of the hand in his mouth; you’re embarrassed as he rolls his eyes back at the taste of you, but turned on at the same time. sunghoon’s other hand grabs ahold of your wrist and brings it back down to your side. he moves so his face is directly over your own and he speaks,

“open your mouth.”

without a thought you do as he says like it’s instinctual and you can’t even think to control yourself before your mouth is open wide like he demanded. sunghoon lines his mouth up with your own and lets out a line of spit straight for your mouth. his saliva and your juices warm and swirl together on your tongue, “swallow.” again, you do as sunghoon says. You moan at the taste of it all, sunghoon’s hand is grabbing your chin and his fingers are digging into your cheeks, “good girl.”

the nickname reminds you of jay and makes you blush at the memory.

sunghoon’s fingers are back underneath your panties and are circling your clit at a fast pace. your hands grip the sheets of your bed to hold yourself together, closing your eyes to only focus on the pleasure and not on sunghoon.

you feel sunghoon move his face so he’s right in your neck and shoulder, planting wet kisses that leave you shivering as the damp skin meets the cool air of your room. sunghoon notices your legs shaking as he continues the quick menstruation on your clit. he sees your bottom lip tucked tightly into your teeth as you try to refrain from making noises that could boost his ego and prove him right.

“don’t i make you feel good y/n?” sunghoon asks and his voice makes you open your eyes to look at him. his dark brown eyes are full of lust as they scan your face. his free hand trails up your chest and rests on your throat, squeezing it so your eyes widen as you look at him. your slight nod makes him grin at you and his grip tightens even more, making your oxygen level decrease further, “then why don’t you tell me just how good i’m making you feel, huh? maybe i’ll let you cum if you do.”

the mention of the word cum has you crumbling and you notice how badly you genuinely want to cum on sunghoon park’s fingers. it seems like he knows the exact pressure and pace to circle your clit, alternating directions and patterns as he brings you closer and closer to your climax. his grip on your throat loosens so you can respond to him.

“fuck, you make me feel so good, hoon, feel like cuming so bad,” you let out, desperate for him to let you cum.

sunghoon laughs at your breathless tone, “you’re gonna cum just like this? how’re you gonna last when i put my cock in you?”

“who says you’re gonna put your cock in me?” you smirk back at him, your back arched into his chest. sunghoon’s smirk doesn’t fade as he shakes his head at your snarky response.

“good one,” he states before three of his fingers flatten out so they can rub your clit at an even faster and harder pace, making you squeal at the sudden pleasure. his other hand grips onto your

“fuck, sunghoon!” you cry out his name at your grip moves from your sheets to his hoodie.

“gonna cum y/n? gonna make a mess of my fingers?”

you can only nod in response as you feel the coil in your stomach release and your toes start to curl as the pleasure takes over your body. your whole body was becoming a trembling mess at the hands of sunghoon park. you could hear sunghoon’s degrading chuckle in your ear as he placed soft kisses behind your ear, which was the complete opposite of what his fingers were doing to your clit.

sunghoon’s fingers slowed down their pace on your clit, and moved his hand to hold your thigh open. you were out of breath as you watched sunghoon scan your wet and exposed core.

“fuck,” sunghoon lets out quietly as he watches your juices dribble down your pussy and thighs, “so pretty, y/n, just as i thought.” He mentions that he has thought about you in this position before makes your heart swell. You wanted to reach out and pull him down, so your lips meet again, but that felt too intimate for the moment, and you aren’t sure if you’d regret doing it.

sunghoon gets up and leaves your room suddenly. You mentally groan because it seems like he is doing to you what he apparently does to every girl he’s ever hooked up with. but then you hear him in the bathroom, the sink turning on and off, and then his footsteps approaching your bedroom again.

he returns to your side with a wet washcloth and taps your thigh, “open,”. you do as he says so quickly again, and almost melt as he carefully starts to wipe your core and inner thighs. the expression on his face is serious as he tries to not miss a single part of you. the intimacy between you two is almost suffocating and you aren’t sure how to relieve it, and part of you doesn’t want to.

when sunghoon’s sure he’s gotten every part of the mess both of you have created between your thighs he throws the dirty washcloth into the hamper by your bed.

“i haven’t heard about that part before,” you break the silent as sunghoon hands you a pair of sweatpants to put on.

“what do you mean?” sunghoon questions as the two of you switch places so now he’s sitting on your bed and you’re standing to get dressed.

“the part where you clean the girl up afterwards,” sunghoon shrugs and avoids looking at you take your skirt off as he picks at the blanket on your bed. you take his silence as a cue to not further push the topic.

when you’re wearing the sweatpants you crawl back onto your bed. sunghoon lifts up the blanket for you to slide under and it’s when you notice his hard bulge in his jeans. sunghoon sees your still body and follows your eyesight to his crotch, which he only shakes his head at you.

“but what about you?”

sunghoon shrugs with a tight smile, “another time.” sunghoon stands up from your bed and you lay your head flat into your pillow behind you with a sigh.

“now i’ve heard about this part?”

sunghoon rolls his eyes playfully, “and what part is this?”

“the part where you leave as quick as you came.”

there’s a beat of silence in your room and you think you shouldn’t have said that, but you know that is sunghoon park and he wouldn’t be offended by it like everyone else would have.

“i mean,” sunghoon starts with an awkward expression, “i was just going to take my sweater off, but if you want me to go i can.”

“oh,” you glance as the hoodie he’s wearing, “i mean, you can stay, if you want.”

sunghoon quirks an eyebrow at you, “do you want me to stay?”

you’re sure that you’re supposed to say no, that haewon would want you to say no. that jay would like you to say no but- “yes.”

sunghoon smirks at your answer and you watch him lift the hoodie off his head, his shirt riding up as he did so, letting you see a glimpse of his pale abs before the shirt falls back down.

sunghoon crawls back into the bed with you, lifting the blanket to slide under it so your bodies are close together. the silence in your room is almost deafening as you both lay on your back awkwardly, both of you looking up at the ceiling.

“i’m tired,” you tell him, trying to find something to say while both of your thoughts wander around crazily.

sunghoon turns his head to look at you, your faces close together again, “you can sleep, if you want.” you smile softly as him before you turn to lay on your side, your back facing him. a second passes after you get comfortable that sunghoon is turning to lay on his side as well, his chest pressing up against your back.

you see his left hand hover slightly over your waist, as if he’s thinking if it would okay for him to lay his arm over you, pull you in further into his chest. just before he decides to pull it away entirely and keep it at his side, you grab hold of his dainty wrist and pull his arm over you, your fingers interlocking as you do so and keeping them held together at your chest.

his oaky smell is intoxicating you now, rubbing itself into your sheets and pillows that you’re sure you’ll be able to smell for a day or two after tonight. both of your hearts are pounding and sunghoon hopes you don’t feel his against your back. he hopes that after tonight you still think of him as the cool confident guy he’s trying so hard to be. he knows that because of this mask he has on is the reason that he’s even in a bed with you now, in your bed right now. sunghoon thinks about his past struggle of keeping eye contact with people and how it was only bad when he was around you. and he feels that maybe it wasn’t because he was too shy he couldn’t keep eye contact, but because you intimidate him, make him feel anxious and nervous in a way that only you can do to him.

part of him also hopes you don’t feel his hard on poking into your ass; if you do, he hopes you don’t say anything about it.

sunghoon park’s warmth lulls you to sleep even though your mind is wide awake, begging you to stay awake to listen to it. there are thoughts of jay and haewon yelling at you for doing this with sunghoon. but there are also thoughts of sunghoon and how calm he makes you feel, how good he can make you feel. there’s even a brief call of jake’s name, and you wonder for a second how your friendship with jake will change after you’ve hooked up with two of his best friends. but the thought is taken over by sleep and the brief thought that if the rumour of sunghoon park liking messy sex is true, then what else is?

➤ taglist : @hooniewnderland@yjwluvs@sunghoonmybeloved@julyy07@a-noona-mous@sonjuyeonnie@sstarjy@bamchanbin@deobitifull@hee-pster@beans-and-jeanes@rikifordmiami@yizhoutv@duolingofanaccount@yjwnoot@woniebae@agustdiv1ne@bteeznation@jaylaxies@asyleums@chloe-rose2@zerasari@qeen123@iadorlyu@cyuuupid@afrahs-posts@jaybestboy@snowyseungs@1-800-multistan@hiwhateva@8252000@stunninj4y@prvncejxon@luvynn@abdiitcryy@csesamis@laffatae@theskzvibe@jjhmk@stunninj4y@hyuckscore@lizdevorak@clcudi@arizejkt19@wwjlln7@thisisnotjacinta@sheishiding2-o@immelissaaa@nctseventeensworld@luvdokja@vatterie@shootforthemoonyun@nikirikii@artgukk@ily-bin@sunwooes-k@dasa3040@02zluvbot@jizzdrunk@ivoirepearl@filthxyy@ddreast@lovelivevi@purplepuppychild@loves0ft@foxdaisy @cosmiczen @66cupid @neo-weareone

@ taeghi, 2022. do not repost or reuse in anyway.

PLEASE REBLOG IF YOU ENJOY, AS LIKES MAKE IT HARD FOR WORK TO BE SPREAD AND ENJOYED BY OTHERS :)

stay safe everyone :)

#i love how intimate this was 😭 #also i’m so here for shy hoon :( #excited for the next part !! #you complete mess #taeghi #ice prince

[sleepingrenjun]

oh to be called "my love" by your favourite person in the whole world

#my love

[sleepingrenjun]

god is a woman | m ; f

“Aphrodite’s son should know more than simply what sex is — what a relief that you exist to teach him just that.”

greek god! au | historical! au | smut, fluff | 23.8k words

s u m m a r y : despite being a child of the embodiment of love and desire, heeseung never experienced such emotions, opting instead to throw himself in literature of his gods and goddesses. however, after one encouter with you, notorious elite escort, all logic and sense abandons him. as tense meetings and feverish conversations turn lustrous, heeseung experiences what it truly means to be the son of aphrodite — what it truly means to crave not for knowledge, but for you.

c o n t e n t s : son of aphrodite! heeseung, escort! reader, heeseung is a stupid loser virgin at the start, reader is most definitely not, son of hades! jay, son of hermes! sunghoon, jay and sunghoon are full-time bullies of heeseung, this is basically a bullying campaign for heeseung im so sorry, fluff because no good relationship exists without fluff, mc teasing heeseung, heeseung will undergo character development (basically meaning he will finally know where the clit is) a lot of sexual tension but that’s mostly because i am incapable of getting to the smut,  mature content ↠  making out, dirty talk, oral (m. and f.), handjob, unprotected sex (stay safe!!) heeseung kinda becomes a dirty horny mf 

t a g l i s t : @hyuckworld​ @axartia​ @lhsng​ @aizzon​ @defxciii​ @shmooooo​ @skzenhalove​ @hwaluvx​ @sjakewrld​ @jjhenluv @garamdoll @nyanggk​ @jiawji​ @duolingofanaccount​ @taekbokki​ @kpoplover718 @wntrsgf​ @sd211​ @artgukk @22222222claieze @yongboksfreckles12cards @anunconditionallylover​ @liliansun​ @rawrszh @danyxthirstae01​ @jaylaxies​ @3nh4luvr​ @ashrocker123​ @hyukiebb @jkmonica​ @cruelfever​ @missharubear​ @sweetjaemss​ @yngwife​ @kelly-fushiguro345​ @cyuuupid​ @trimebruhh @stealercore​ @sensiblebutch​ @soobmint​ (send an ask if you would like to be added <3)

p l a y l i s t : here!

a u t h o r ’ s  n o t e : it’s here it’s finally fucking here i’m so sorry for taking so long but she’s here thank you to lysol for pushing me thank you @hyuckworld​ you horny incredibly bitch ily for forcing me to write this every waking second and thank you kim mingyu of svt for your role in all of this you know what you did… anyway!! do enjoy this unedited version yikes <//3

back to masterlist

HEESEUNG WAS ABSOLUTELY CERTAIN, WITHOUT A SHADOW OF A DOUBT, THAT THE PATH WHICH HE FOLLOWED WAS RIDDLED WITH SIN.

That was a certainty he could not shake, no matter how much he wished it otherwise. His elders had warned him, his instincts threatened him, yet his mind was a mess which seemed unable to be put into order.

What did not help were his good friends, encouraging in this behaviour. 

“Come on, it’ll be fun!” One of them drawled, clearly speaking for himself as he dragged Heeseung along the lush streets of Corinth, mocking salutes to every woman who eyed his lean figure. 

“You know Jay always spouts tomfoolery, but this time even I agree with him!” Another one of your friends chimed in, holding onto his arm. “Think of it as another one of your silly lessons.”

“Shut your ugly pig-eaten face, Sunghoon.”

“But I was agreeing with you!”

Of course, Heeseung thought, preferring to ignore his rather idiotic companions, gazing ahead as he entered the higher section of the mountain, into Upper Corinth. He should not have been surprised at the sheer vibrance of the environment, markets bustling in the streets carved from the mountain, every merchant offering possessions from all corners of the Greek world. 

He wished he could be anywhere but here.

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#this is so unbelievably well written i am in awe #a true masterpiece #the chemistry is just 😩 #slightly speechless I loved this so much #and hee ain’t even my bias 😭 #god is a woman #heetendo #lee heeseung #bambi

[sleepingrenjun]

better than him - sjy

prompt. “i bet i fuck better than him, don’t i?” (requested by anon) + kinktober day 1: mirror sex (for @jojayke​ bff i hope u like this zoefjisdq) pairing. best friend!jake x fem!reader (+ mentioned ex!jay) word count. 5722 genre. smut (mdni), angst and fluff it’s all there warnings. mentions of cheating, food, jay is a bad bf, jake is a simp, he’s also a sex god don’t mind me this is lowkey very unrealistic but its okay lol thats what smut is for / smut (overstim lowkey, oral f receiving, fingering, mirror sex thats the prompt, dirty talk, this is like tame and dirty at the same time idk …), not proofread sorryyyy im too tired but lmk if there’s a mistake pls <3 author’s note. shes back! and as always she loves combining requests so this is both a smut prompt list request and a kinktober request (yes in august shush) bc ur girl is lazy and wants to make things easier for herself !!! anyways maybe its bc i havent written pwp in a while (who am i kidding i literally just wrote sex on the beach) but this feels different than usual … im not sure whether i like it or not ….. hmmmm … so tell me what u think !!!! hope u guys enjoy this one !!!!! also wtf …. thank u for 2000…… forgot to make a post cause i’m stupid but it made me so so happy to hit such a big milestone, so thank you to all of you guys sm for all the love n support !! permanent taglist. @skzenhalove @wntrsgf @duolingofanaccount @bunhoons @lhsng @hyunjinsr @pshchives @jojayke @simeonswhore @donghoonie-3 @drunkjaked​ (send an ask to be added!)

JAKE ISN’T SURE whether he should cry, laugh, punch a hole into the wall, or hug you and never let go. He’ll probably end up doing all of the above, but right now, as you look up at him with big teary eyes and quivering lips, all he can do is stand there and feel his heart breaking. He hates seeing the way you sit on the couch, holding your knees close to your chest as if trying to make yourself as small as physically possible. 

This isn’t the first time he sees you like this - broken, with pain in your eyes. Looking up at him like there’s nothing he could do to fix it, to fix you, but you would still ask him and he would still try anyway. Maybe he should be fed up with you, the way you almost only go to him when things get bad and you need someone to make everything better as if by magic, only to go back to the person that made things bad in the first place. But he could never be mad at you. He can only be mad at that person, that person that hurts you time and time again but that you somehow could not get away from. He understands, though, because in a way, you are that person to him. All his friends tell him he’d be better off cutting you from his life, but he could never bring himself to do it.

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#oh this was- this was hot #I’m down so bad for him #best friends to lovers with jake is defo one of my fav tropes #good job author !! #asahicore #better than him #sim jaeyun #my love

[sleepingrenjun]

𝐌𝐄 𝐀𝐅𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐇𝐈𝐌

PAIRING- [Jake Sim x Fem!Reader]!Model au

SUMMARY- messy break ups led to a scrambled mental health and it was Y/N’s first time experiencing it. So, in desperation for a change of pace, she started juggling lives between modelling and high school. Even with a seemingly lavish life, everything seemed empty and barren until Jake came along and he was everything she was missing.

Or in which he loved her even when she couldn’t.

The soul purpose of their story was for her to love him.

NOTES AND WARNINGS- I haven’t written in a while so this may seem a lil rocky and I know it’s a really long one but please read it regardless. Fuck I hate it sm I hate myself like the ending is so abrupt but I guess that’s the whole point. Man there’s so much editing that went into this. And it’s so long like what, I didn’t know I had it in me. Anyways please read and please I’m begging you give me feedback. Yes thank you. Oh and also the scenes where the other members are mentioned are so homely, funny and like heartwarming I wish I had them this way fml. AND ALSO I MIGHT EDIT THE ENDINF MUCH LATER CUZ YEAH!! Updated: 17-07-2022. Ty @kcluv for letting me use this layout. ALSO OMFG THIS GOT DELETED AND I REUPLOADED IT ON 02-08-2022 I LOST ALL THE NOTES LIKE 220 NOTES GONE but that's OK anyways enjoy ig

WORD COUNT- 26k

ᴍᴀsᴛᴇʀʟɪsᴛ | ᴇɴʜʏᴘᴇɴ ᴍᴀsᴛᴇʀʟɪsᴛ

내 맘 너는 아는지 가끔

JAKE WAS NEVER EXTROVERTED. He was ambitious and successful, but never extroverted. He chose to prioritise himself and decided to prioritise his dream of becoming the most successful model he could become. Then came his family and the six friends he made in summer camp when he was ten years old. That was all that was in the bubble he called home; his dog, his parents, his brother, his friends, himself, and his career.

At the beginning of his career, the boy’s character had been marred by the media more than most expected. He supposed that was what happened to most people that were on their road to success. Journalists claimed that he had an attitude, that his leading form of communication was glaring at others when they spoke or showing attitude to those that showed interest in conversing with him. Yet, on the other hand, the photographers he worked with argued that he had always been respectful and cooperative, and even a little innovative.

His career skyrocketed around the time he graduated high school. He went to a community college for the sake of education, but he rarely showed up. Photoshoots occupied his time, press meets, walking for runways of various fashion shows and meeting with designers. Jake was acquainted with most of the industry by the time he turned nineteen. He tried his best to be friendly, to not cuss at paparazzi that were just trying to be nice and to not show crudeness while answering selfish and personal questions- but he never made friends. He’d rather not.

At the age of nineteen, the boy owned a small apartment in New York City and drove around with an Audi. The car was gifted to him by the company themselves because he had made an appearance in one of their advertisements. 

As mentioned before, his career skyrocketed and it seemed like he had everything a young man like him could ask for… That is… Until he met Y/N.

The first time he saw her was at a party an acquaintance threw at a pub in the middle of the city. He was told it was just supposed to be a get-together of new and upcoming models of the industry and the models who seem to have been making a name for themselves. Jake assumed he fell into the latter category when he was invited. It wasn’t like his name was as popular as that of the Hadid sisters or Lucky Blue Smith but he was famous enough and he was successful enough and he received an income that was above the average of what models usually get.

People showed him respect, which was rare in the industry he found himself thriving in.

He assumed Y/N fell in the former category of models when he laid eyes on her. She was standing at the end of the pub, leaning against the bar and sipping on a glass of what he made out to be wine. Her eyes were cold and observant, her gaze piercing through the heavy air of the party. Her hair was pin-straight and he wasn’t sure if it was natural. Her presence at the party, or any party at all, didn’t seem natural. But the way she wore her makeup and the way she walked away from the bar in her heels and the way her body looked in the sequined black dress made it seem like parties were all that her life revolved around.

Stolen glances of her were all he got that night. He saw her wandering the bar alone, only speaking to those that spoke to her first. He saw her speaking to a man with a goatee and glasses, who he assumed was her manager. He saw her sitting in booths alone and not entertaining any company that came by her. He didn’t know if she had an attitude problem like people painted of him, or if she was just shy. Jake didn’t even learn her name that night, nor did he put in the effort to ask anyone about her. Because he thought there was no point in enquiring about someone he was sure he’d never cross paths with again. He was sure he’d see her around in news articles any time soon. But for that night, all that he was left with of hers were her piercing eyes and her confident walk.

He didn’t think about her much after that day, though.

Around two weeks later, Jake was called in for a photo shoot for a semi-popular magazine. He was told he was to model along with another girl who was known to be all the rage recently. He was told she was in demand for a lot of photoshoots and runways for many fashion shows. He was told that she reminded a lot of people of him when he was just starting. He was told her name was Y/N.

Y/N Y/LN.

It wasn’t until ten minutes into entering the photo studio that he realised who he was modelling with. It was the girl he saw at that party, standing with the photographer, Dubois, and nodding at whatever information was being said to her. He stood frozen in his spot for a good ten seconds before he took his first step toward her.

Her hair was styled in a slicked-back ponytail, dressed in a tight black dress that showed off her collar bones and waist and her eyes looked just as sharp and piercing as he remembered. He didn’t know if it was the eyeliner or if it was just the gaze she held. Jake found himself being intimidated as he approached her… and he wondered if that was how people felt the first time they met him.

But apart from that, he thought her name suited her.

When he finally brought himself to stand in front of Dubois and Y/N, it took around ten seconds for either of them to notice his presence. Both their heads turned to him at the same time and Dubois was the first to speak. “Ah, you’re finally here,” he said and Y/N’s eyes softened, along with her expression.

Jake greeted him with a nod before turning his head and meeting his eyes with Y/N’s. It was like time slowed and the air in his lungs escaped when she smiled at his presence. It was like he was breathing and tasting the air for the first time again since he was born when he realised that she was smiling for him, because of him. 

He wanted to know why she had that effect on him. And he wanted her. Somehow and someway, he wanted her.

And a part of him wanted the craving to go away because it was new. She was new. And it was scary.

Y/N stretched her hand towards him, expecting a handshake as her smile grew wider. “I’m Y/N Y/L/N, nice to meet you.”

Her voice made Jake snap, eyes blinking and head shaking from side to side before forcing a smile out and stretching a hand out himself. “I’m Jake… Sim, good to have you here,” and their hands met in the middle and Jake thought he had just touched royalty. All he wanted to do was freeze time and stand there and admire her… He was too in awe to continue to smile.

“Now that the introductions are finished…” Jake started focusing on Dubois’ instructions, nevertheless continuing to observe Y/N from the corner of his eyes. Her piercing stare returned, as did the sober look on her face. He assumed it was just the way her face rested, or rather it was a look that grew on her. Because there was stress wrinkled into her forehead and the weight of some kind of pain resting on her shoulders. She just hid it well in the way she walked and talked.

It wasn’t Dubois’ first time working with Jake. In fact, he was very fond of working with the young model. He had always been cooperative and open about what he did and didn’t find comfortable doing. So it took him by surprise when he noticed the way Jake was almost shy to touch Y/N, as though she would run away if he put too much pressure on her with his touch. Dubois lowered his camera out of shock at a point but didn’t bother to mention the differences in his demeanour.

The pictures turned out beautiful regardless. A month after the photoshoot took place and after they were edited and airbrushed and filtered, they were published. The picture on the front cover of the magazine made Jake’s heart skip a beat. It was a simple picture if he had to be honest. They were sitting across from each other but their hands met in the middle, eyes looking into one another and knees touching. He didn’t remember the pose being as intimate as the pictures had turned out.

He chalked it up to the editing.

Chills went down his spine when he received a text from Y/N. It almost seemed coincidental, for him to be thinking about her and staring at the front cover of the magazine with a picture of them together and to get a message from her at the same time. Jake felt like he was in high school, pining over a stupid high school crush.

She had messaged him on Instagram to celebrate the publishing of their pictures. It was a simple text, really. A few words on how the pictures looked amazing and a few party popper emojis were thrown in with it. Jake took ten minutes to comprehend his thoughts and ten minutes to calm himself down before thinking of a response. He congratulated her back and agreed on how the pictures turned out great.

He waited for a response. He waited for five minutes, then ten, then twenty and by the thirty-minute mark, Jake had accepted that she wouldn’t text back. He wondered why. Perhaps it was because there wasn’t much she could say back, or maybe he responded too late and lost the chance of indulging in a nice conversation. But then it occurred to him that he would have normally done the same- he wouldn’t respond to most people that looked for small talk.

He threw his phone across the couch with a sigh and sulked.

It wouldn’t be until two months later that he’d see Y/N again, this time wearing a ruby red dress at another acquaintance’s birthday party. She looked exactly like how he remembered, the same piercing eyes scanning the room and the same confidence radiating off of her as she walked around and found herself a seat, a glass of red wine held between her red manicured nails. He thought she looked fiercely beautiful from afar, he could only imagine how he would feel if he went up to her.

Jake didn’t know why he found it so hard to simply walk up to a girl and speak, greet her with a handshake and smile and hope for the best. But this was the girl that refused to leave the end of every trail of his thoughts for the past two months. Every time he read about her or heard about her and every time he saw another one of her pictures published in a magazine or article, he suddenly felt unworthy of her.

From his point of view, she looked like the forbidden fruit, dressed in red and waiting for someone to chat her up as she sat alone and sipped on wine, continuing to observe everyone in the room. But the difference was, that Jake knew she wasn’t looking for small talk. It was clear how uninterested she seemed by the way she easily ended every conversation that anyone started with her and she looked like a pro in ending chit-chat without hurting anyone’s feelings.

Perhaps she liked her own company, perhaps she wanted to be alone and the thought almost made Jake back away and mind his own business. Almost. He strode up to her, hands in his pockets and head slightly tilted downwards as he reached her table, his heart beating faster by the second. He noticed her lips pull upwards as his presence came closer to her, but a part of him was wondering if she was smiling for him or if it was out of habit.

“Hi,” she said, settling her wine glass on the satin-covered table. “Didn’t think I’d see you here,” she crossed one leg over the other, arms resting on her knee as she leaned towards him with a dopey smile.

“You’re gonna see me everywhere, darling,” he chuckled but his eyes widened when he noticed Y/N’s raised brows at his response. “Oh,” he breathed, realising his snarky remark. “I didn’t mean it that way-”

“Oh, I know, I know,” Y/N laughed at him, lightly and softly as she hid her toothy grin behind her hand and leaned forward then leaned back into her chair- her entire demeanour seemed relaxed and she allowed herself to sit more comfortably. Jake didn’t know if it was because of him, or if she was simply being friendly.

“Yeah,” he nodded. “I swear I’m not self-obsessed or narcissistic. It was just me joking-”

“Jake,” Y/N laughed again. “I get it, I get the humour. I like it,” she shook her head and her eyes seemed to sparkle as she looked at him with a soothing smile. 

“Well, I’m glad you like my humour then,” his smile formed awkwardly but Y/N’s only grew wider. 

She nodded her head towards the chair beside her and Jake almost stumbled on his feet and words as he sat there, pulling his seat closer to hers. But they didn’t speak, not for the first ten minutes or so before he found a conversation to start. And she spoke. Freely. And she didn’t seem to push him away like she did everyone else. Perhaps it was because he didn’t indulge her in any small talk which she seemed to hate so much but he found a part of himself wishing, praying that she was talking to him because she liked him or saw him as something special.

He wanted to be something special for her, and he wanted her to be something special for him.

Jake swore he never felt that way about someone in his entire life.

Yet as the party ended and Jake walked Y/N to her cab, he noticed just how closed off she had been while talking to him. Changing the topic of conversation every time it seemed to get personal or simply laughing at his words and forcing out responses that she didn’t seem to mean- she looked like she was keeping her walls up, like her emotions were on guard and like she was scared of being herself.

They exchanged numbers before her cab drove off and she gave him the brightest smile and waved her hand goodbye until her cab was out of sight and Jake thought that was the sweetest thing someone could ever do. And on his way back home, he replayed the entire night in his head, how they talked over wine and how the ruby and gold ring looked prettier on her finger when it was placed on her lips while concentrating on what he said.

Oh, how Jake loved the way she looked at him with such focus and attention, like he was the only person she cared about at the moment with her strikingly focused eyes and pursed lips. He knew he was romanticising the moment and painting it under a light that completely marred what must have actually happened but he couldn’t help it. He doesn’t remember the last time he had an actual conversation with someone that wasn’t part of his friend group or his family.

He didn’t want to admit it, but he was basking in her attention. He felt alive when she seemed to be giving genuine responses to his questions and when she threw her head back in laughter along with him. The only thing missing was for her to open up, to be so carefree around him that she would speak whatever came to that pretty mind of hers. 

He swore to himself that he’d make that happen. Someday.

Her laughter and her words were still stuck in his head as he fell onto his bed and while he stared at the wall, he imagined what their next conversation would sound like. He imagined what she’d wear and where they’d meet next. Would it be by chance, for another photoshoot, or maybe even for a date if he had enough courage to ask her? 

He imagined what a date would look like with her- if she’d want to go star gazing with him just as much as he did or if she enjoyed the silence of an art museum. He wondered if she liked aquariums and he wondered if she liked picnics and board games. He wondered if they’d go shopping together or try new restaurants together. He wondered if she would ever open up to him and he wondered if she would ever let her walls down.

There was just something about her and Jake didn’t know what it was yet.

Just as the clock struck twelve and just as he was beginning to feel lonely, he called his insomniac friend, Sunghoon, who he knew wouldn’t pass up an opportunity of meeting up in the middle of the night. And Jake knew he was probably the only person willing to listen to him rant or willing to keep him company at an ungodly hour of a work day.

The boy showed up in no time, standing on the doorstep with a dozen cans of beer and chips.

Sunghoon was probably the first friend Jake made in that summer camp. They were first cabin mates, their bond starting with their childish love for making bracelets out of thread which turned into staying up late and sharing all the deep dark secrets their ten-year-old selves could possibly have had. Sunghoon was probably the one that understood him the most out of everyone and Sunghoon was the first to find out anything new about Jake and his life. This time was no different.

While he watched Jake sit on the floor and lean against the leg of his bed, drinking his beer while speaking of a girl with piercingly dreamy eyes and a soothing voice, he wondered what had gotten into his best friend. He wondered if he had ever heard him speak of someone that way and he realised this was the first time. The boy sulked deeper against the headboard and threw a pillow on his lap to lean his elbows on, deep in thought while Jake continued speaking.

“You know she’s still in high school?”

“Dude.”

“Chill, she’s eighteen,” Jake shook his head. “But she’s talented as fuck if she made it to this level of fame while still in high school.”

There wasn’t much Sunghoon, Jake or the internet knew about Y/N. Just the basics like where she grew up or what her favourite colour was. Her life was more private than Jake’s and no one thought that was possible. He didn’t know if it were a good thing, that Jake was falling for someone he knew nothing about and was starting to create a fantasy of her in his head. He didn’t know if it was possible to crush on someone so deeply, especially when they weren’t in high school anymore. He wondered if his best friend was going to end up hurt as he had been with every girl he had ever dated.

Sunghoon could swear that it was just Jake’s curiosity surrounding her mystery that was attracting him.

But a part of him thought Y/N was different. If she managed to get him to swoon over her like a school boy, then there must be something special about her, right? 

Jake talked about her with so much admiration, you could see it in his smile and hear it in his voice. He talked about her until there was nothing else to say and he voiced every ‘what if’ until it wasn’t fantasising but just overthinking. He spoke about her until his excitement was gone and all that was left was why she was the way she was and why he liked her though he knew nothing of her.

“Do you just think she’s attractive or something?” He offered as Jake groaned once again. “What about her exactly are you so caught up with? What's so special about her?”

“I don’t know!” Jake flung his arms in the air, his foot nudging his empty can of beer that caused it to roll across the room. “There’s just something about her. It’s like she’s purposefully built up these walls and I want to know what’s behind it.”

“Maybe she’s going through something,” Sunghoon shrugged. “She seems closed off, right? People with trust issues are usually like that,” he took another sip of his beer and suddenly, all the cans were empty but both the boys were sober from frustration.

“But what’s causing those trust issues?” Jake thought out loud. 

“I don’t know man, I guess we just have to wait and see.”

“She’s trying to save herself and I’ll figure out exactly from what.”

IN FACT, Y/N WAS saving herself from something- from heartbreak. Or, from another heartbreak, rather. She had enough at that point. From being used, replaced and lied to, she decided it was best to focus on herself and work towards making a better life for herself instead of being hung up on people that were not worth her time. And all of that was triggered by a boy named Sam whom she thought she would be with for the better part of her life.

Sam was good when she first met him. They were both just juniors in high school, oblivious to the bad that could come their way. She thought he was the perfect boy for her, the kind she saw in movies or read about in books, the kind she conjured up in her head before falling asleep. She gave him her all, gave him the time she would never give anyone else and let herself fall for him until he was the only person she felt safe around. Because he was truly worth it all and because he didn’t hurt her and promised to protect her and defend her no matter what. He told her she was his favourite person, he told her she was his number one choice. He was perfect… until he wasn't.

Until he changed himself and prioritised a good time over a good thing and until he took his girlfriend for granted and until she found herself crying over him every night before falling asleep. Sam left her at her lowest and then she was all alone. 

It took her two months to get back on her feet and start trusting her friends again and it took her two months to realise that it was better not to wish for his return anymore. She accepted that she deserved better and she accepted that he wasn’t the right person for her. And, that’s when she started modelling. 

It took three months for her career in modelling to become something to be proud of. Only she knew how much energy and effort it took to get to where she was and only she knew how trimerous and taxing it was to deal with depression, loneliness and heartbreak while trying to make herself successful at the same time.

By the time the first semester of her senior year started, Y/N had become a well-respected model, yet her friend circle shrunk to maybe two or three people. 

The loneliness didn’t bother her as much anymore but the pain was still there. Hurt loomed over her every time she thought of Sam or herself and she wondered why she was never good enough or if she was lovable or if she could ever find true love. Her heart ached, but all she could do was distract herself.

Y/N was making more money than an average model. She was well known, and famous even, and she rarely showed up to school. Perhaps that was good, it would mean she wouldn’t have to be reminded of those who hurt her and left her. But at the same time, she didn’t know anyone outside of her school and her newfound trust issues made it hard for her to make new friends from the industry she thrived in.

So, she started making boundaries, saving herself from sabotage before anyone even got the chance to hurt her. She was nice to everyone, yes. But it wouldn’t go further than a friendly conversation. At that point, she was coming to terms with being by herself and only depending on herself… Until she met Jake.

When she met him at their photoshoot, Y/N felt more self-conscious than she usually did. To be fair, she was modelling with someone considered more famous and successful than her, someone who was pretty much out of her league- obviously, she felt self-conscious around him. But when she caught herself looking for stolen glances from him, smiling at him when he wasn’t looking at her and almost admiring his pale skin and rosy lips; she knew he had to be different.

Y/N didn’t think much of how she felt about him, though. After the photo shoot ended, she pretty much forgot about him and the loneliness and heartbreak entered her chest again and brought chills to her bones. That night, she remembered laying in bed with tears rolling down the sides of her face, thinking of what could have been instead of appreciating what was. She couldn’t even call someone to distract herself and just dwelled in her misery.

When she saw their pictures finally published on the front cover of a magazine, she found herself admiring them. She thought the picture looked stunning, mostly because she thought she looked pretty sitting beside Jake, like they made a good-looking couple. He was smiling and she was smiling and a part of her was hoping that his smile was genuine and not staged. A part of her hoped they could have more photo shoots again because the experience was genuinely much more fun with him compared to anyone else she had modelled with.

The entire week following the publishing of their pictures, Y/N remembered using the thought of Jake to distract herself from thinking about Sam. But it didn’t work and she had given up and suddenly Jake was the last thing she thought about as loneliness and despair reappeared in her life. 

She wanted to feel something for Jake. She wanted to feel something for anyone but Sam.

So the next time she saw Jake, she didn’t force herself to push him away. She chose to sit with him and speak with him, just as he approached her when he could have been getting acquainted with the rest of the party attendees. He chose to sit with her and she noticed it. He chose not to leave her company and she appreciated it. And she tried her best to make sure he understood that he had her undivided attention though she would usually rather focus on her wine. She thought the outfit he wore by AMI Paris suited him well, complimenting his dewy eyes and hair and the nonchalant attitude he was trying to hide. She noticed how his responses were standing on the border between sarcastic and flirty and she saw how much effort he seemed to have been putting in to be nice to her. 

He was trying. She thought that was the most anyone could do.

The issue was that she didn’t know why he was trying. She didn’t know why he was showing interest in her or why he was forcing himself to be nice to her. Was it a bet he was participating in? Or was it because she could provide him with something he needed? Nothing made sense in her head, but she couldn’t stop thinking about him.

And as she laid on her bed that night, her favourite music playing in the background, Y/N thought about the way he laughed at her jokes and the way he was so eager to continue their conversation. She thought about how he had refused to leave her side, even when other party guests had come up to them and asked for a chat. She thought about the one time their hands had accidentally brushed against each other and she thought about the way he’d looked at her through his lashes and she thought about the way his skin glowed under the lighting of the chandelier.

Y/N felt butterflies for the first time in a long time and she didn’t know if she was prepared to face her emotions yet.

Tears spilt past her eyes that night too, and if she was keeping an accurate count, it would be the first time she was crying in a week. All her thoughts and emotions somehow led her back to thinking about Sam and how he’d moved on and how he was happy with the girl he told her not to worry about. Yet here she was, a semi-famous model and a rich teenager, weeping in sorrow and wondering if she’ll ever find someone to love her the way she wanted and deserved and if she would ever be good enough for anyone.

She spent the next day doing absolutely nothing. It was one of the rare days where she had no work to tend to and usually, she was expected to go to school. Her parents had pestered her and almost begged her to at least show up in school because she hadn’t been studying and they were convinced that she was going to fail her exams. Y/N saw no point in them anymore. She simply told them that she would study without the help of her teachers. Her parents snarled at her and went back to minding her own business.

It was unhealthy to stay in her room all day but she had no energy to do anything else. She watched a movie for a while, then listened to music and picked at the loose skin around her fingernails. At a point, she found herself sitting in silence, eyes spacing out and mind buzzing with thoughts that only made her heart pound and ache and come to the verge of ripping into two pieces. 

Her phone didn’t buzz from any text or phone call from her friends and she knew they were all busy with studies and college applications but she had to wonder why her life always lead her to be lonely in whatever she did. She didn’t have any friends she could relate to or depend on or call to cry about how stressed she was from moving around from photoshoot to photoshoot all day. She didn’t have anyone to share her accomplishments and bliss with. And she didn’t have anyone she could laugh with or go out to parks with or watch movies with. She lost it all and she dealt with it all alone, not because she wanted to but because she had no other choice. And she accepted that she would be all alone and that it was about time she started controlling her emotions instead of letting them control her.

But it weighed too heavy on her heart- it hurt.

She didn’t know how much longer it was going to last- the brooding and the self-pity. Most importantly, she didn’t know how much more she could take. Yet every day, she found herself forcing on a smile and powering through her errands until she could come back home and be with her issues without hiding them, all alone yet again. Her days were interesting, but they felt so repetitive. 

Y/N made her way down the hallways of GQ’s headquarters, the clicking of her heels ricocheting off the barren walls. Tony, her manager, guided her to the meeting room, where she was greeted by a group of models who were all there for the same reason- to read through their contracts.

Y/N was about to model for GQ, one of the most renowned magazines, yet not a bone in her body or fibre in her being could force itself to feel any ounce of happiness or excitement. This job would give her a paycheck pricey enough to let her, an eighteen-year-old high schooler, rent out an apartment of her own for a little while but she wasn’t thrilled. She simply faked eyes of glee and a smile of appreciation as she took her seat and was handed her contract for her to look through.

Tony assured her that he would be waiting at the reception for her.

If she thought about it, Tony would probably be the person that was there for her the most. She wasn’t planning on it, but one day when he had come to her house to pick her up for another errand to complete, he found her lying in the corner of her room, crying her eyes out while curling into herself and it was the first time she had told him anything personal about herself. The sight was gut-wrenching, enough for him to promise her that he would be there regardless of his circumstance and that he was her friend. 

Though Y/N didn’t exactly call him when she was crying or was feeling lonely, it was clear how much he cared for her. Tony, though he was perhaps twice her age, quickly became somewhat of an uncle to her. He checked up on her frequently and ensured all her needs were taken care of. He would mentally and emotionally prepare her for situations he knew she would feel uncomfortable in and he would tell her all she needed to know for any new job.

But he was only human and humans made mistakes. Tony was no less because when Y/N realised that he didn’t tell her that Jake would be part of the GQ shoot as well, she almost wanted to hit him. 

He could have told me sooner, she thought, because when Jake walked into the meeting room, she swore she felt her heart swell with something she would describe as anticipation and she felt excited. She was excited to work with him again, she was excited to be in the same room as him again. If she had known beforehand that she would work with him, perhaps she would have felt this delight for a little longer and maybe she would have looked forward to working with GQ.

It took Jake a few seconds to make eye contact with Y/N. He was in the middle of removing his coat and taking his seat when he saw her and the smile on his face looked brighter than the one she wore. They waved at each other enthusiastically for a brief moment before Jake's attention was pulled away by a man handing him his contract.

Once he settled, the room went quiet and everyone was back to minding their own business. They stayed in that room for a good hour. An hour that was filled with Y/N glancing at Jake through the corner of her eyes and Jake smirking every time they caught themselves looking at each other. The rest of the models were clueless and Jake thought that was the most amusing part.

They were told that the shooting would start the next day, somewhere on the outskirts of New York. Y/N just counted on Tony to take her where she was supposed to. Once they were all briefed on the timings, requirements and expectations of the shoot, they were piled out of the room and she was left to stand in front of Jake with an awkward smile as everyone walked past them, returning to their own lives.

She didn’t know exactly what to say or do. Her hands balled into fists and her foot tapped rhythmically on the tiled floor. She couldn’t even will herself to look him in the eyes and she was quickly reminded how she wasn’t usually like this. Being nervous and shy wasn’t how she portrayed herself to be, especially with the people she worked with.

Perhaps one day she would regret ever showing Jake the vulnerable side of her. Perhaps one day she would regret opening up to him or wanting to be something more than acquaintances with him. Perhaps she would regret putting herself in a position where she could easily get hurt again. But at that moment, as Jake stared her down with nervous eyes and a softened smile, she was convinced he would never hurt her.

“You didn’t tell me you’d be here,” he said, referring to the night at the party where she could have easily told him that she was booked for the GQ cover shoot. But then again, Jake didn’t have a chance to mention it either. “We could have come here together.”

At that, Y/N felt her heart flutter. Because Jake Sim, the model who had been popping into her thoughts unwelcomed and the pretty boy she thought was out of her league, basically said that he wished he had taken the chance to spend time with her, make memories with her, have her be a part of his schedule- even if it was just for a day.

“Maybe next time?” She offered, completely unsure of what to say, still taken aback. 

“Or, if you’re free now…”

“Yeah, I’m free now,” nodding enthusiastically, her smile grew with expectation.

Jake chuckled. “We could do something together now?” His shoulders raised as though he was making a proposition.

He was almost convinced that she would bail on him but then she said, “I’d love that,” and the insecurities and nerves growing in his stomach disappeared and he allowed himself to take a breath of relief. He extended a hand for her to take and she meekly looped her arm with his and it didn’t feel as awkward as they thought it would be. The pair walked out of the building before telling their managers that they were heading off. Then they got into Jake’s car.

AND THAT’S HOW THEIR friendship began.

Jake took her to a cafe downtown that day and all they did was talk and sip on mugs of coffee. They talked about Y/N’s school and how Jake entering the modelling field was all out of pure luck. They talked about their lives and their family and friends they said they’d introduce each other to. They spoke about their interests, which then stemmed to Y/N ranting about true crime cases and that caused Jake to quickly realise it was her favourite form of entertainment.

That day, they didn’t take pictures or touch their social media but left the cafe when the sun started to set and when the stars were shining. Jake, being a concerned gentleman, had offered to drop Y/N home but she refused and assured him that it wouldn’t be her first time taking a cab home so late into the night. He asked her to text him when she reached home and she did as she was requested. 

“I had fun today, we should do it again sometime,” he texted her too and Y/N was the first time in a long time that Y/N laid on her bed with glee rather than a frown and tears rolling past her cheeks.

For the first time in a long time, she fell asleep with a smile and she fell asleep looking forward to the next day because she would see him again. And she fell asleep with a smile because she didn’t think of Sam and didn’t wish the blood supply to her heart would be cut off. She fell asleep with a smile because perhaps her life wouldn’t feel so tedious and repetitive anymore.

It would be the first time in a while that Y/N had fun in a photo shoot. Because not only was Jake’s presence refreshing, but it was also encouraging. Jake being there, posing for the same camera as she was amid other models, brought her energy she didn’t think she had in her. It was like something in her lit up and her face gave off a glow that the photographer was almost astonished to see.

A few days after that photo shoot, there were rumours of GQ wanting Y/N to be their ambassador but they were deemed to be untrue.

Y/N and Jake talked a lot the following days. Mostly on text, but they still talked a lot. He would respond to her and update her every chance he could, even in between his most exhausting errands and Y/N found herself doing the same. Those texts soon turned into calls and within a month, they found themselves at each other's houses almost every weekend.

They helped each other grow and Y/N didn’t realise how much she needed someone like Jake until he started caring about her. He started caring about her in ways she didn’t think were possible because whenever he was at her place, he would make sure she ate enough and he would make sure she took her daily vitamins. He checked up on her every day and called her before he went to sleep like it was a ritual. On days she went to school, he would be there at the end of the day to pick her up, just in case she had a worse day than usual.

He asked about Sam a lot. He would ask about how their relationship started and how he treated her and what caused their falling apart. Y/N found herself answering his questions with no hesitation and no tears. A part of her, a huge part of her, felt more comfortable and safe around Jake- more than she felt around Sam or anyone else.

“He used to take care of me the way you are now, you know? Until we started hurting each other.”

“Anyone that loves you is gonna take care of you this way, Y/N. Anyone that loves you is gonna treat you the way he used to. There was nothing special about that. Do you know what makes it special? If the person keeps trying and realises that to build a relationship, it takes a lot of mistakes and lessons and effort. Do you know why he wasn’t the one? Because he stopped putting effort and because he gave up and went for someone easier.”

Y/N ignored what Jake insinuated on and his choice of wording. She turned her head to the side to hide her grin and bit her lips. This is what I needed to hear, she thought to herself. Hearing it from Jake simply made all the more sense.

“Is there anything that makes you special?” Through her lashes, she could see the way his lips parted into a smirk and his eyes flickered from her to the bowl of food in his hands.

“I guess we’ll just have to wait and find out,” he said, and though the words came out teasingly, Y/N could make out the sincerity in his eyes. Jake brought another spoon of rice to her lips and she took the food into her mouth, gaze not leaving his.

Jake didn’t complain about having to take care of her. He didn’t complain about her behaviours or mood swings or needs. He accepted her. He accepted her enough not to want her to change. He accepted her enough to love her the way she was. 

Y/N was learning that this was what love looked like. Romantic or not.

On a day standing between the border between spring and summer, Jake took her to Pier 62 Skatepark. He told her that it was a lucky day because all six of his friends were not burdened by packed schedules of internships or exams and he told her that he was excited to introduce her to them. He also told her, or rather warned her, not to believe any jokes they made about him or any weird childhood escapade of his that would be mentioned.

Somewhere on the curved ledges on the concrete, she saw six boys sitting in a row, all of whom had differentiating features of experience and maturity, their feet dangling off the edges as they laughed amongst whatever conversation they were having. She knew they were all of different ages and she could easily name who each was with how Jake had previously described them alone. And she wanted to show off and greet each boy herself by name but she didn’t. The need to give a good first impression dissolved as she got closer to them and all that was left was nerves and an awkward smile that compelled her to hide behind Jake’s shoulder.

Jake noticed her shying away and a huge part of him wondered where the confident girl he met all those months ago had disappeared. He wondered if the girl who always had her walls up at parties when she showed up wearing fancy dresses had died. He wondered if her pricking gaze and strut of a walk were all lies- but then he also realised that she was usually putting on a confident front and independent mask when she was alone. That look of judgment and observance was always there when she was alone, in a room filled with strangers, whose opinions she could manipulate just by the way she looked. She couldn’t do that now because she was sure Jake probably spoke about her and her character to his friends and she couldn’t do that now because these people were sitting there, waiting to get to know her. After all, their best friend, Jake Sim, wanted them to.

Y/N was terrified, to say the least, knowing she had no other choice but to speak about herself and think of witty responses to their words. She didn’t want to admit it but all those previous months of being depressed and lonely almost made her forget how to socialise and Jake was simply a blessing of a friend. There was a reason for her silence at parties and there was a reason why she pushed everyone away once she sensed that small talk was withering apart. She would rather keep to herself than give away that she was socially awkward and isolated through a forced conversation. In those times, Y/N had no other option but to hide behind a mask she created for herself and she did a damn well job at it.

But she didn’t have to hide behind herself now because she had Jake to hide behind and though his heart melted at the thought of her depending on him and though all he could think about was holding her in his arms and protecting her, he stopped in his tracks. Y/N, trailing behind him like a lost puppy, bumped into his back and blinked profusely, looking down at his hand that was flailing around, seeming to be looking for hers. Confused, she clasped her hand with his and she watched the way their fingers intertwined and allowed the warmth of the gesture to seep in. But before she could relish the moment, he had tugged his arm forward with enough force that made Y/N stumble in front of him.

She was no longer hiding behind his frame. Her eyes were directly in line with the six boys she was about to meet and from the distance she stood in, it seemed as though they were staring back at her.

She gulped.

Looking over her shoulder, she found Jake staring back at her with an encouraging grin and sparkling eyes covered by his floppy hair. With a nod toward his friends, he willed her to walk forward and she did. With her hands balled into fists, she took the first few steps, legs shaking at first but the more she walked without his aid, the faster her shoulders straightened and her tread turned confident. Though Jake could only see her back, he could easily tell she probably had a sly smirk playing on her lips with the way her hips started swaying. It was almost like she was slipping on a mask, one made entirely out of confidence, charm and perhaps even a little wit- the same mask Jake had watched her sport multitudes of times when they were both attending gatherings together or were invited to some launch party. But he could confidently say that the piercing eyes of hers he fell in love with were never a sham.

His steps slowed as his chest began filling with pride. His eyes glossed over as he watched Y/N approach his friends, her hair bouncing off her shoulders and arm stretching forward to shake hands with Heeseung first, then Jungwon and the rest of the boys. This would be the first time that Jake saw Y/N approach someone, rather than someone else approaching her.

Ruffling Y/N’s hair was the first thing he did when he finally approached the group. He could almost hear her heartbeat, louder than the gallops of a thousand horses, but then he saw the smile on her face and the way she was talking aloud with his friends and with him and he was convinced that she was filled with adrenaline. And he thought it was good. It was good because she was learning to love new experiences and she was learning to meet new people.

“It’s nice to finally meet you,” Sunghoon said as Jake hoisted himself to sit beside him. Y/N was left standing, looking up at the seven boys sitting together and the sight deemed complete with Jake among them. “We’ve heard a lot about you.”

Not a single part of her was surprised that Jake had spoken about her to his friends but she never questioned what it was that he said about her. She never wondered if he told them what they did together or spoke about and she was always confident that he wouldn’t just expose to them all the panic attacks and hysterical cries she’s had in front of him. 

It was Jake and she trusted him.

Yet for the sake of conversation, she simply had to ask “What exactly does he say about me?”

There was a sharp silence that followed her question. Jake froze in his stance, his eyes darting from her to his friends in panic and Sunghoon pulled his lip between his teeth. Y/N was on the verge of panic, already feeling her legs tremble and hands quiver, convinced that she had ruined the day and that the following conversations and little time for bonding would become botched and robotic. As her eyes scanned the faces of each boy, wondering what everyone was thinking, she heard a snort from Niki, his lips fighting to stretch into a smile and his laughter beating its way out of his throat.

Sunoo’s smile followed next, though he didn’t find the need to hide it. He laughed freely, leaning forward as he clapped his hands and eased everyone's expressions. Y/N swore she saw everyone let out a relieved sigh. “You don’t have to worry,” the pink-haired boy giggled, holding his palms together in front of him. “He always just boasts about you and brags about how you're his new best friend,” it was obvious that he was trying to mimic the way Jake spoke and his lack of accuracy made Jay sneer.

“Oh, please,” Jay chuckled. “I’ve never heard Jake say he’s made a new friend so the second all of us found out, we started yelling and screaming and begged to meet you.”

With the few words Jay spoke, Y/N was able to figure out his mellow nature. He was laid back, silent while he was thinking and when he found the need to express his thoughts, they came out calm and organised. Throughout the fifteen minutes she was with them, he had his palms pressing flat behind him, his body leaning into his arms in a relaxed manner and his attention was fixated on the surroundings around him rather than the people he was with, but he was listening intently regardless. 

“You guys make it a bigger deal than it is,” Jake waved his hand with a whine, his cheeks turning a shade of red with all the blood rushing to his face. His body leaned sideways in an attempt to hear everyone better, torso pressing into Sunghoon’s shoulder.

Jake seemed more fond of Sunghoon, Y/N realised. With every joke that was made, the pair would always look at each other first before laughing and they would usually glance at each other before speaking. While Heeseung told the story of how they all met, she learned that Jake and Sunghoon were the first among them to meet and become close. How the rest of them became friends and grew a bond strong enough to last so many years was beyond them but it was so clear how much they cared for each other. She saw it in the way Niki gave Sunoo his jacket when it got chilly and she saw it in the way Jay allowed Jungwon to lean his head on his shoulder when he got tired. She saw it in the way Heeseung offered Sunghon water when he simply cleared his throat and she saw it in the way Jake kept glancing at Niki to see if the boy was comfortable.

Y/N was brought to a state of melancholy as she watched these boys interact. Though she was happy that they had each other in this barren world, she wondered why she never found friends like that for herself. 

What was she lacking? What was she doing wrong? She thought about that a lot. 

“I have to ask,” she started as Jungwon finished telling his story of how he convinced his grandparents to enrol him into taekwondo classes. “You all have such different lives and interests that all seemed to have started in places other than New York,” her gaze immediately shifted to Jake. “How did all seven of you end up here?” her fingers pointed to the ground, the stress in her voice indicated the city they were all on.

Looking over their shoulders, Y/N could see a few boats tied to the docks of the lake, tinges of marigold and lavender hovering in the corners of the sky. The sun was setting and a majority of the kids that showed up at the park started leaving. There was this moment of tranquillity as dried-up leaves breezed past them and suddenly, all she could think about was New York City and its huge complexity, a city of diverse culture and fashion. Anybody would be lucky to live there and she wondered if she was asking the right questions.

“That’s a good question,” Jungwon thought aloud, subsiding Y/N’s doubts. “All of us ended up here because of Heeseung,” he stated as a matter of factly and he pointed towards the oldest.

Heeseung put on a dopey, almost embarrassed,  smile as he scratched the nape of his neck and nodded. “Yeah, that’s true,” he agreed. “It was a huge process but I’m glad that at least everyone settled in just fine.”

Then each of the boys continued explaining their version of the story. They told her how Heeseung first sprung the idea when he got into New York University and didn’t want to leave everyone behind. He said that there was no way he would ever thrive at university without his best friends, his family, alongside him and he spent months convincing everyone’s families to let their children move across the seven oceans with him.

Niki and Jungwon had no other choice but to live with Heeseung because they were both minors and Heeseung was the oldest and automatically the most responsible. And because Sunoo and Niki were inseparable, he was thrown into the mix and currently, the four lived in a three-bedroom apartment that was convenient for them to go to their respective schools. Y/N could only imagine how much chaos their mornings would be filled with- four boys getting ready for school and every other errand. But the more she imagined it, the more she thought it was wholesome and heart-warming and the more she wished she had friends to move in with as well.

She learned that initially, Jay, Sunghoon and Jake were living together. The three lived in peace, Jay minding his own business in his room while he dealt with his part in running his dad’s company or leaving for college whenever he could. Sunghoon would leave every day to train for ice-skating and return by the night after he was done with community college. Jake’s schedule was the most flexible in the beginning, before his modelling career bloomed and when all he had to worry about was sending his portfolio and resume to various managers. He only moved out to the more bustling and lavish side of New York when he was deemed successful.

Over time, everyone, despite living together, started having lives of their own and sometimes, some wouldn’t show their faces at home for days on end. But none of that was ever an issue and they never drifted because at the end of the day, they were all family and they grew up together. They all grew to love moments like these where they’d find themselves sitting together and basking under a sunset and salty breeze while laughing. 

Rare moments were easier to cherish.

“Jay’s dad helped us through the moving process a lot,” Sunghoon nodded, weaving his fingers together on his lap. “We had to live in a hotel for a few months before finding apartments of our own. It was still fun though.”

“You know,” Jungwon started with a laugh, thumb pointing towards Niki. “His parents were too scared to let him shift with all of us so Heeseung and Jay stayed up all night making a PowerPoint presentation to convince them.”

Y/N gaped. “Did it work?”

“Well, I’m here, aren’t I?” Niki grinned proudly, brows wiggling as everyone else laughed at the memory.

Their lives seemed like an unconventional fairytale found in the unrealistic fantasies Y/N would sometimes make herself. She once dreamed about moving to Italy with her one true love and living in a cottage and selling fresh fruits and flowers their whole lives. She dreamed that their daily chores would consist of doing everything together and always ending their nights with homemade wine and cheese. She dreamed that it would just be her and her lover, alone and content with just each other's company because the rest of the world would be irrelevant. That was a dream, her dream, her childish dream.

These boys had a dream of their own- to move to New York City together and build independent lives, all the while enjoying each other's unchanging and unwavering company. They made it work. Luck was in their hands and all the stars aligned for them and here they were, living what she considered to be the teenage dream. She wondered what that must have felt like.

Y/N fell silent the rest of the time she spent with them, not because she was glum but rather because of a growing sense of comfort. The feather-like smile on her lips never left as she found herself sitting beside Jake, her cheek pressing into his shoulder while she listened to the boys talk and banter amongst themselves. She didn’t feel out of place and nor did she feel like she had to contribute to the conversation to feel wanted. At that moment, it was just her and them, two different worlds colliding.

Jake deemed it to be late once strokes of navy brushed the sky, the moon visible if he squinted his eyes just a little bit. A steady breeze ruffled their hair and sent shivers down Y/N’s spine. With the goosebumps protruding from her skin, she shuddered, hugging herself and grinning as Jake announced that it was time for everyone to go home but it was Niki that stopped them, whining about something not being fair and how he wanted to spend more time with everyone.

In a fleeting moment, as though a lightbulb appeared above her head, Y/N piped “should we all go for dinner together?” and Niki nodded enthusiastically with the brightest smile she had ever seen. It was enough to light up the entire park they were in. Jake, who stood beside her with a hand on her back, looked down at her with a smile, admiring eyes gleaming at the sight of her and her sudden enthusiasm.

Jake wished she would stay enthusiastic for the rest of their lives, believing that what he saw in front of him was her truest form, where she was laughing and joking around with everyone, answering questions about herself freely without fear or hesitation. Bliss was radiating off of her and if they were in a world of animation, he knew rays of sunshine would be protruding out of her body. He wondered if after today, the happiness and carefree nature she showed would stay and he wondered if she would feel juvenile enough to hold his arm and bounce up and down again like she was doing now, watching Niki pump his fists in the air and run towards his respective car with the same enthusiasm.

“Let’s go!” The boy hollered and everyone else followed.

The group found themselves sitting at a round table in a hotpot restaurant known as HaiDiLao that seemed to have been blowing up on TikTok recently. When Y/N suggested the place, Jake chuckled at her, knowing that she had taken this opportunity to finally satisfy her long-lasting craving for Asian cuisine. As they sat and waited around for their food, steady conversation flowing between them like before, Y/N grew to realise that Niki was much like her. He was naturally quiet, laughing within himself when someone made a measly joke and speaking his opinions softly. He only showed excitement in rare moments, making fun of his peers only when he found the perfect moment to. The boy was extremely independent, she learned when he spoke about his school life. He only had one friend outside of the group he was in, the rest of his classmates irrelevant to his conscience and he seemed to be more focused on his goals. An aspiring dancer he was, his talents being compared to Micheal Jackson by his coaches and teachers.

Jungwon showed her videos of Niki dancing and Sunghoon gliding on ice. She thought the two boys had many similarities, too. Both focused on their goals and both preferred to stay silent even around their best friends. She couldn’t tell if it was because they had nothing to say or if it were simply because they were shy, but their occasional jokes and accusations for comedic purpose told her that they were simply being themselves. 

If she thought about it, most of the boys were similar but it was each other that brought out their chaotic and adolescent sides. Heeseung, the great musician studying to be a producer, was always laughed at about his food habits. Jungwon, who seemed to be the peacemaker of the group, had a way of raising Sunghoon and Jake’s brows with his bizarre statements. And Sunoo, aspiring to become the owner of a skincare brand someday, was the ray of sunshine that brought the group out of their pessimistic reflections. Jay liked to make fun of him a lot, she realised in between dipping her mutton into boiling broth and chewing on enoki mushrooms.

They were all like seven peas in a pod and Y/N was just there observing, hoping that someday, she would have close friendships of her own. She gazed at Jake, the ache in her heart easing when he looked back at her with a beaming smile and lovingly observant eyes.

Jake drove her home that night, a playlist of classical music playing in the background as light rain drizzled onto the windows. The street lights blurred, causing a bokeh effect and she felt the skid of the tires every time Jake drove into a puddle. It was a good day, she thought and she wished that the night didn’t have to end. She wished she could stay in the hotpot restaurant for the rest of her life and listen to the many life stories the group of seven boys had to offer. Because while she was with them, she could forget about the miserable aspects of her life and delve into this world of fantasy they created for themselves and maybe, just maybe, she would become part of it.

“Will I ever get to meet your friends?”

The car came to a screeching halt and Y/N’s apartment building came into view. A lone lamplight hung on its gate and she realised her parents must have been awaiting her return. The time read 11:07 pm and the music had been drowned by crashing rain. Tilting her head towards Jake, she saw his droopy eyes and a smile groggily maintained. He was sleepy and driving in the rain at such a late hour would be the worst idea so she thought of inviting him into her house for probably the millionth time in the past few months and letting him sleep over for the first time. She was sure her parents wouldn’t mind, they’ve seen the boy around enough to trust him around her and they’ve seen just how attentive he was towards her.

She decided she would answer his question first.

“I don’t think I want you to meet my friends.”

Jake’s heart dropped. In the span of a second, his thoughts wandered into replaying all the events of the night and finding where things went south and what caused Y/N to suddenly change her mind. Just a week ago, she was hell-bent on introducing him to her friends and she was adamant about him bonding with them because it was important for her. Now she was hesitant, almost cringing at the thought of letting her work-best-friend meet the people she clung to at school.

“Why?” Jake stuttered out, his cheeks flushing paler and sleep rinsing out of his system.

“I’m scared,” she sighed and his brows furrowed.

“Of what?”

“I’m scared I’ll lose you.”

Though he heard the quiver in her voice, he was confused about how she reached that conclusion. Every step he took forward on getting to know her, it was moments like these that took him three steps back. He thought he understood the way her mind worked and thoughts panned out and if he didn’t, Y/N would try her best to help him understand. At the end of the day, it was her fear and insecurities that panned her judgement on any situation.

“How will you lose me?”

“Because they’re all better people than me, they’re so much more interesting than I could ever be,” her hands moved animatedly as she explained, stray strands of hair covering the sides of her face. “What if you realise I’m boring and leave me for one of them.”

Y/N had spoken about her friends a lot. She told him about Sheila that had a meme or vine reference to throw for every conversation and Veronica, who was on her way to intern for NASA. She told him about Arnold, who was a master with stocks and went to the gym all the time, earning more than her, a model, at the age of seventeen. Then there was Jasper, who aspired to be a doctor and Tina, who seemed to have her life and morals all put together, aiming for some of the best art-history colleges in Europe. She spoke highly of Maya who was always down to Earth, had everyone's respect and was big on photography and fashion. She told him about many more people, all of her descriptions about them ending with, “We aren’t very close.”

She was right, these people she called friends all had their own stories that would peak many people's interests but Jake thought Y/N's life was no less profound or fascinating compared to anyone else's.

From the many stories her parents had indulged him in whenever he went to her house, he learned that she had always been independent in many things. Sure, she craved intimacy and codependency, but once she made a decision, it was final. At the ripe beginnings of her teenage years, she decided to move out of her parents' house to pursue an education in New York and live with her grandparents. To this date, no one understood how she came to this decision but she found herself moving from China to the States when she turned fourteen. She left behind her parents and friends and a country she had lived in for thirteen years to start anew and if she was asked if she regretted her decision, she would respond by saying she never had regrets in her life, not even decisions that lead to the biggest of heartbreaks.

At fifteen, a year after her parents had moved to the States to be with her, Y/N had easily learnt the ropes of moving around town on her own. She’d roam the streets alone, occasionally with a friend or two if she was allowed. She had no problem going places alone or making decisions on her own but when it came to meeting someone new, suddenly she was the most sheepish girl to exist. Her walls were easy to break down but that was a trait of hers she couldn't seem to mend.

At seventeen, when she and Sam had separated, Y/N started making and sending in her portfolios to various modelling agents and she didn't mention it to anyone until she was sure that she had a job secured. Her parents were infuriated by her antics, calling her careless, naive and various other adjectives that could describe a child to be a rotten egg. Her father, a man whose childhood was woven of orthodoxy morals, had spent over a month attempting to put a wall between her and her dreams of showing up on the cover page of a magazine or walking a runway. Her relationship with her parents had diminished until eventually, they came around when she started earning money and could essentially afford her basic needs.

Though her parents wouldn't admit to anyone that they only allowed their daughter to continue thriving in an industry they were so revolted by because of her large success in making money, Y/N was quick to point out that detail to Jake when she had the chance. She didn't feign any resentment towards her parents, but it wasn't as though she had a relationship with them in the first place. Since she was young, she depended on herself or whatever friends she had at the time. Her parents only saw her as a trophy to show off to the rest of the world, to boast about how well they raised her and to display her success via framed pictures and medals over the fireplace. At the end of the day, she knew nothing of them, not even their favourite food. 

Jake also came to realise the plethora of people she met throughout her young age, forming connections that would eventually wither away into phone calls once in a blue moon or random texts of 'hi, how you been?' That in itself made him wonder about the amount of knowledge she had in human behaviours and if it were her many experiences with different personalities that planted the seed of curiosity towards psychology and sociology in her.

She seemed to forget small details about herself, details that Jake deemed compelling. Such as the random and exceptional pieces of information she had in marine biology, occasionally indulging him in a lesson on the variety of jellyfish or the phenomenon of deep-sea gigantism. He noticed her love for sharks, especially whale sharks when she mentioned that one of her biggest goals in life was to fly to the Philippines and swim with one of them. Her knack for languages, a skill she acquired from her mother, was the most daunting. It was fascinating to listen as she switched between languages, from English to Chinese to Spanish and then back to English again. On top of that, there were a myriad number of other languages she could understand. It was that dexterity of hers that led Jake to coax her into learning a little bit of Korean. He was also drawn to her love for true crime, especially the gruesome and grotesque details of murders she seemed to always remember to bring up in designated conversations while indulging in her favourite drink- boba tea.

Her love for the drink was almost comical and much too distinct. She’d be appalled if any variation of boba tea was ordered- the original was always preferred; iced milk tea with an extra serving of tapioca pearls that she loved chewing on. Countless amounts of instances included Y/N ranting about the drink- something so simple yet personal to her because it was all she drank while growing up in Shanghai- saying that no tea shop could replicate the delicate flavours of tapioca pearls and chai milk tea other than this particular boba shop she always used to purchase from in China.

“Y/N, you’re not boring,” Jake lulled, his hand instinctively reaching for hers, which were perched between her thighs. “How could you call yourself boring?” the word rolled off his tongue as though it was foreign. Of the many adjectives available in the Cambridge Dictionary, boring would be the last word he’d use to describe the mess of a beauty sitting beside him.

Her hair was now completely covering any view he had of her face and her torso leaned forward. He felt her shudder, her hands shaking as she visibly choked in a sob. No matter how much she tried keeping her emotions straight and harbouring her thoughts in the bay, the buzz in her head caused a single teardrop to escape the rim of her eye and roll off her cheek, falling right onto Jake’s knuckle.

In the past five or so months of Jake getting to know Y/N, the number of times he’d seen her cry could be counted with his fingers. He had always known she was emotional and she had always known that she was sensitive and he knew for a fact that she cried more when she was alone, but never did she allow herself to fully break down in front of Jake and this moment would not count either. It was just a single tear and a few heavy breaths that came out of her, her eyes now bloodshot.

In a second, a day that they thought would have a happy ending, ended in Y/N questioning herself and becoming insecure in her friendship with Jake.

Y/N had always been level-headed. She was the girl most of her friends turned to when they needed advice or consolation of some form and she was always there with her arms wide open, giving them a slice of her love and wisdom- yes, wisdom. That was the only word Jake could gather in his head as he thought about the many times he went to her for some form of advice. It was as though she always knew what to say and what to do and she gave away her guidance in words put in their simplest and most nonchalant form- she made things sound easy. Her way around deciphering other people’s emotions and steering between the angles of the moral compass was something to look up to.

But she could never use that talent of hers for her good.

It was moments like these that reminded Jake that she was truly just a troubled kid who was fighting to stay afloat despite the rocks bound to her feet. No matter how much maturity and independence she showed, she was just a kid, only starting to learn how to manoeuvre the world of an eighteen-year-old. She held so much baggage, all of which she somehow carried by helping others instead of herself- by trying to fix others and give others a safe space instead of giving it to herself. She used that as her coping method again and again, like fixing a broken tape record over and over again until it couldn’t be saved anymore and Y/N had reached that point- a pathetic and plebeian point in her life. 

And now there she was, projecting the trauma, fear and insecurities she acquired from a messy break-up onto Jake, someone she could easily call her best friend.

“I am boring,” she stifled her nose, her knee jerking up and down as a way to soothe her nerves. Jake’s hand shifted from her hands to her knee, exerting enough pressure to stop her habit of fidgeting for the time being.

“You’re everything but boring, Y/N,” he insisted again, his grip on the steering wheel tightening enough to make his knuckles turn the shade of a cloud. “You’re everything- I mean, you’re a goddamn model and a goddamn successful one, too. All at the age of eighteen… How could you call yourself boring?”

“I don’t know,” her statement followed another sharply inhaled breath and he started rubbing circles over her knee with his thumb. “Everyone in my life leaves at a point and so will you,” tucking her hair behind her ears, she focused her gaze on Jake’s hand and the way it covered the entire span of her knee and a little bit of her thigh. Small splatters of red painted his knuckles and she wasn’t sure how he trophied them but somehow, it gave his hands somewhat of a character. Her attempt to distract herself, though, didn’t work.

“I’m not gonna leave you,” he breathed and Y/N pulled her lip between her teeth, eyes darting from what she was previously concentrating on and the innocent yet sincere look on his face.

She didn’t respond to him, letting deja vu wash over her like a bittersweet memory that she would rather be carried away by the tides. Everyone says that, she thought, literally everyone. She could only offer him a blank stare, eyes looking past his shoulder and at the lack of traffic on the roads. In that week, it would be the first time she let herself think of Sam again and her memories with him played in her mind the way home movies played. They were filled with nostalgia, moments she knew would never come back to her because not only was she out of his life, but out of his mind as well. His contact number had disappeared in a sea of other texts and phone numbers and the last time either of them had tried contacting each other was almost a year ago. 

It had been a year, and he still had a hold on her emotions.

Jake waited for a response from her but it was the lack of emotion in her eyes and absence of expression on her lips that made him realise. “You’re thinking of Sam, aren’t you?"

With a prompt nod, sadness and grief made their way into the irises of her eyes and her lips quivered downwards into a frown. He promised her many things, all of which were broken but the last thing she expected him to do was completely excuse himself from her life. The thought was so repetitive; it was exasperating.

Jake knew, verbatim, all the false reassurance Sam had given her over the months of their dating.

“I mean it, though” the promise in his voice almost made the frown on her face disappear. “Y/N, I know you’re scared. But please believe me… I’m not gonna leave you. You’re my best friend.”

At that, Y/N lifted her head, eyes widening and mouth gaping. “I am?” She questioned, almost sceptical of his statement despite the way he was eagerly nodding. Her mind wandered to Sunghoon, recalling the way Jake interacted with him and remembering the way he always spoke so highly of him, telling her that he had always been the person he went to for every minuscule problem in his life.

She wanted to question it but decided she had not enough energy to do so.

“You are. Just as I am yours, I promise.”

A part of her wanted to scream at the top of her lungs and rip her hair apart because Sam used to say the same thing to her. Just believe me, just trust me and you’ll be happy- she wished she could erase the memories of her somehow and do justice to the words Jake was uttering to her with so much candour and probity. If it weren’t for the cold of the night digging itself into the depths of her heart, his words would have sparked a campfire to thaw her downcast.

“I don’t know how to make you believe me, but please,” he affirmed. “You don’t need to be scared of losing me. I know Sam said the same shit but please believe me.”

Another moment of silence passed and it was when Y/N cleared her throat and straightened her shoulders that he realised that she was accepting his words. She nodded steadily, forcing her lips into a straight line as she gazed at him through her lashes, his hand sneaking its way back towards hers. 

“Do you still not want me to meet your friends?”

A wet laugh escaped from her lips, her eyes softly closing shut as her solemn chuckles filled the heavy air inside the car. Jake smiled with her, the glint in his eyes returning as soon as her mood lifted. 

“I’ll introduce them to you on graduation day.”

MUSIC WAS THE GREATEST invention on Earth, according to Y/N. Regardless of whether it was blasting in speakers or flowing between earphones, she could allow herself to drown in the world of wistful vocals and calculated melodies. It was mainly music that aided her through her depressive and suicidal episodes and it was music that caressed her emotions as she fought to bring all the pieces of her personality together. She found that singing along to the songs she found most catchy and listening to them in the car with her friends- moments which only occurred once in a blue moon with her- was the most entertaining. And she also found that listening to orchestral music while studying, walking alone in public or on those rare times she had to take the New York Subway made her feel as though she were in another world, completely separated from everyone else’s opinions and judgements. It was the ultimate form of distraction.

As she sat somewhere in a crowd of students, some classmates of hers she couldn’t even recognise or name, it was the pop music playlist that Maya played through the speakers of the auditorium field that calmed her nerves and distracted her from everyone’s judgement. Though the songs didn’t quite match what a normal graduation ceremony was expected to entail, they brought hearty smiles to everyone’s faces and Y/N sang along with animated hand gestures along with Sheila. People were staring, eyeing their antics as if they were crazy but for the first time in a long time, Y/N didn’t care. It was the last day of school and the thought of everyone worrying about college while she, on the other hand, would delve deeper into her modelling career brought her pride and boosted her ego.

In the row in front of her sat Sam, his dark curls struggling to stay hidden under his graduation cap. The smile on his face brought a sickening churn to her stomach but it left as soon as her gaze landed on his best friend, sitting beside him and commenting on how boring the decorations were and how the entire event would have panned out much better if he and Sam planned it. Sam nodded enthusiastically at him, his cap almost falling off his head. Y/N rolled her eyes at the interaction that seemed all too familiar; all too predictable.

Her family was seated somewhere in the back amongst the other parents and family members that were attending. Jake sat with them, a camera in his hands ready to capture the moment Y/N would appear on stage, accepting her graduation certificate and shaking hands with the principal. Hues of purple and blue decorated the stage, the school principal- whom Y/N spoke concerningly low of- holding a mic and slowly speaking out a speech of gratitude towards the students, staff and education system, briefly speaking of how proud she was of her students.

Y/N fixed the ends of her graduation gown, its material matching the colours of the decorative balloons, streamers and banners. A wave of nostalgia washed over her as her eyes scanned the premises, vast four walls seemingly pulling closer and closer by the minute and she knew that this would be the last time she would ever sit in the auditorium. It would be the last time she would sit in the same room as the rest of her classmates and it would be the last time she saw the face of her insufferable principal. She remembered all the memories she made there- the shit-show of a performance her drama club put on for Shakespeare’s As You Like It, the many games of tag she played with her friends, the limited number of badminton games she played with Sam and the gut-wrenching exam papers she wrote in this very auditorium. She would never relive those memories again, all of them confined in the walls of this school- the same walls other students would make their own memories and history within. It was all too daunting at that moment but her attention was peeled away as the student body president was called on stage to give his speech.

The next few hours played out like a montage, each student walking up the stage and accepting their certificates with toothy smiles that couldn’t be differentiated between genuine and fake. Amongst the many waves of emotions- happiness, grief, excitement, nostalgia, dread, and so much more- pop music was replaced by an orchestra of violin and harp melodies. Flower petals of pink, white and purple were thrown in the air, followed by their graduation caps as their hollers reached a crescendo. Everyone was taking pictures, some with their friend groups and others in front of the huge banner that read CONGRATULATIONS CLASS OF 22’ and Y/N found herself amongst her classmates, hugging everyone and exchanging goodbyes. She wondered if they were genuine when they asked her to stay in touch and she wondered if they meant when they said they would miss her- because she knew she would put everyone she knew from high school behind and never look back. She knew whatever promises she made wouldn’t be kept and she assumed the same went for everyone else.

It was announced that the parents and students were expected to escort themselves to the football field and Y/N pushed her way through the crowd until she saw her parents, greeting them with a wide smile. She waved her rolled-up certificate above her head, almost as if she were saying look, I barely studied and graduated high school with flying colours! It was the same expression a boy would have while swinging on a swing and saying look mom, I can fly and it was the same expression a girl would have while dressing up and saying daddy, I look like a princess. Jake hugged her, whispering in her ear about how proud he was. He showed her the pictures he took of her while walking to the field, gripping the averagely-sized Canon camera her family had been using since she could remember, one that they bought while they were still in China. 

There were designated round tables laid out around the field; Y/N and her family were quick to find their seats. As discussions about her future flowed through them, all Y/N could think about was that she would finally be free of exams and textbooks for a few more months, and maybe years until she decides to go to college. 

“What do you plan on studying if you do end up going to college, then?” Her mother asked, intently looking at her daughter.

“Probably psychology,” Y/N nodded, the smile that entered her lips as she accepted her high school diploma never leaving. 

Her parents didn’t know when the last time it was that they saw her smiling for such an extended period of time. They wondered if it was because she was proud of herself for doing so well in high school, garnering more recommendation letters than most students and scoring well in her final exams all the while juggling her squeaky-clean modelling career. From the outside, it looked like success was handed to her on a silver plate and a huge part of Y/N thought the same. There were students that were jealous of her and students that insisted that her recommendation letters were only written for her because she was famous- which, in all honesty, could have been true. But perhaps, that day, Jake was the only one that knew her happiness stemmed from the fact that she would never have to step foot into this school again and she would never have to see the faces of those who wronged her.

“Isn’t it better to study something worthwhile?” Her father offered. “Perhaps MBA?”

“Who said psychology wasn’t worthwhile?” Y/N let out an animated gasp, widening her eyes out of a sheer necessity to make a joke and her mother and Jake laughed.

Jake patted her back, fingers lingering on the smooth fabric of her graduation gown. “Whatever it is, it’s better to go to college in case you decide not to pursue modelling anymore.” His gaze lingered on her smile for a few minutes, strands of his hair falling onto his forehead and touching his lashes.

He had a point. Y/N's goal was never to come to the status she was at, thinking that modelling for local clothes shops or irrelevant runways would be enough. But in the past few months, she’d been showing up on the covers of famous magazines and Tony was telling her how she could be potentially booked for the next runway show displaying the upcoming designs of Supriya Lele, a designer whom tabloids described as bold and vibrant, mixing her heritage of Indian fashion with the modern preference. If there was one thing Y/N knew about herself, it was that her interests spanned, varied and changed throughout her life. When she was young, her dream was to become a geologist, fascinated by the world of minerals and precious stones she saw her mother wear on her neck and ears. Now, at eighteen, though she had confirmed that she would pursue psychology if she ever went to college, she also knew that pieces of her wanted to dwell deeper into the oceans of knowledge marine biology could offer her or the talents of what a major in English could epitomise in her. Who was to say that she wouldn’t lose interest in modelling?

“I promised I’d introduce you to my friends, didn’t I?” Y/N glanced towards Jake, voice deafening into a whisper as her parents drawled into their own conversation. Jake nodded with a little amount of glee, allowing her to clasp his hand and drag him away to various different tables.

The next half hour or so was filled with greetings and small talk and awkward confrontations from her friends. Jake found that there was a formula to introducing himself to each and every one of your friends. It would always start with a handshake and exaggerated smiles from both parties, followed by Y/N telling them his name and this is the guy I told you about. Then followed the basic questions of his age and where he was from and admiring his Korean heritage, some even being dumb enough to ask him if he knew any kpop stars personally. He had to fight off the urge to play tricks and make jokes and say “Oh yeah, I’m quite close with Stray Kids’ Hyunjin and BTS’ Taehyung.”  Some even asked him to speak in Korean. Once Y/N felt that the conversation was fizzling away, she would drag him away to the next friend and hope that the exchange would be more engaging than the last.

It was like speed dating- but worse.

There were a few things Jake learned in between meeting her friends and subtly getting to know them. One was that apart from Sheila, no one else knew much about Y/N- not what she did on a daily basis, her interests or what was going on in her life, excluding what the media had to offer about her career. She knew more about them than vice versa. He learned that she only allowed people to see what she wanted them to see, everything tucked away under layers and layers of what could only be called distractions to what really comprised her. The second was that to whoever she guided him to, she would always avoid walking past Sam, always sucking in a breath when she did come too close to him or caught sight of him from the corner of her eye. But her smile never faltered and her voice never wavered as she continued speaking and willing herself to look in any direction but towards her ex. The third was that he didn’t see Y/N wearing that mask of hers, the one which caused her to walk so confidently and her eyes to be judgemental. Instead, on school grounds, amongst people that partially watched her grow up, she was almost childlike, her strut juvenile as it had a bounce to it and her laugh ringing louder than a school bell while she stood with those she claimed she trusted most. 

Y/N dragged him towards Veronica, promising that she was the last person he had to meet and he followed her with a sigh. Veronica was headstrong, sass displayed in her mannerisms and body language and it paired with her innocent smiles and profound facial expressions, she could either be described as dangerous or laughable. Jake had asked what her plans were after graduation and though he already knew the answer through Y/N, he still listened to her blabber about NASA and her dilemma of choosing between two prestigious colleges.

“My parents think I should go to Cornell but I prefer…”

Her voice blew away with the passing wind, gaze focusing past Y/N’s shoulder with a slightly gaped mouth and quivering lips, but her expression straightened faster than it had faltered. The air visibly shifted as the group of three acknowledged Sam walking towards them, lips pursed in a thin line while waving his hand in the air. Y/N stiffened her arms, hands balling into fists as she sucked in a breath and forced out a smile and Veronica happily greeted him. The boy's steps were cautious, looking between Veronica, Y/N and Jake as he approached them. Jake followed every step he took, eyes sharpening and jaw clenching with a sudden surge of wrath.

The way Y/N shuffled closer to Jake didn’t go unnoticed by anyone and it was her fingers brushing over his bicep that made him take a deep breath and unclench his jaw, keeping his anger in control but God forbid Sam said or made her feel dolorous-  the day wouldn’t end well.

“What’s up, guys?” Sam grinned forcibly, his hand resting on the table as he turned towards Veronica. “You’re coming for dinner with us later, right?”

Veronica nodded, shifting her head towards Y/N almost in a panicked manner. “Are you-”

“Arnold told me I could join, but I’d rather not,” Y/N grit her teeth, eyes boring a hole into Veronica and she almost flinched back, coaxing an expression of discomfort. 

“Why?” Veronica cocked her head.

“Rather celebrate with Jake.”

“Who?”  Sam’s brows pulled together, his gaze finally falling on Y/N. He looked her up and down, almost as though he was judging her in some way. Then, he looked at Jake, his expression contorting into realisation. His brows raised and said, “Oh, you’re Jake?” In an almost excited manner before stretching his hand in front of himself.

Jake didn’t reciprocate, moving to cross his arms instead and continue glaring at the boy, wondering what it was about him that made Y/N fall head over heels for him; what it was that caused such immense attachment with someone that only had to offer an attitude and arrogance. He didn’t seem to have an ounce of consideration within him, emitting only narcissism and self-gratification about him. Perhaps there was a time when he treated Y/N as though she was the most important thing in the world, but what could guarantee the authenticity of his actions? Especially knowing that he managed to get into another relationship within two weeks of their breakup, there was no way Jake would believe that the boy with curly hair and careless eyes that stood in front of him could take care of Y/N the way he did.

“Okay,” Sam trailed off, retrieving his arm and clasping his hands together to wave off the tension building amongst them. “What plans do you have then?” His gaze returned to Y/N, or rather, his gaze hovered amongst the surroundings around her but his voice was directed to her regardless.

Before Y/N even had a chance to put the words and letters in her head to form a response, Jake had already let out a scoff, glaring daggers in Sam’s direction. “It’s none of your business,” he seethed and everyone standing around the tables snapped their heads towards him in shock.

In all the months Y/N had spent time with Jake, this would be the first time she understood what the media and tabloids meant when they reported lowly on his personality. She realised what they recognised as attitude was, in reality, anger and she realised that he would rather be compliant to those that showed interest in him rather than expect a personal gain out of him for themselves. Speaking with reporters and paparazzi would bring out the worst in him, yet he was the most respectful and well-raised man around the people he worked alongside- the photographers, designers and many other models he worked with all had nothing but compliments to shower over his personality. She understood why different groups of people had different opinions and judgements concerning him. 

“Dude, I was just trying to be nice,” Sam’s hands raised in defence, taking a step back as he tittered. His head tilted to the side, eyes widening as he saw him taking a step forward. Y/N did nothing to stop him, holding herself back and biting her lips, watching as if she wanted a scene to unfold.

“Don’t you think it’s a little too late for that?”

If it weren’t for Veronica’s cough and warning of teachers watching, perhaps Jake would have held Sam by his collar and punched his jaw. The girl waved him off, nudging his shoulder and pushing him back, almost begging him to go away before all the parents got themselves involved. The three students could almost sense the watchful eyes of their principal and counsellor and with the fear of getting in trouble on graduation day, especially when his parents were on school grounds, Sam walked away. His strides slow with his head hanging down, he made his way towards a group of few boys and girls sitting on the bleachers, phones raised in the air as they took pictures. It had always been a trait of his, to be scared of getting into trouble with the teachers. It was that very trait of his that had nettled Y/N to her bones, wondering why he cared so much because she, as a girl with parents that were stricter than most, couldn’t give much thought to them.

Veronica had excused herself, jogging towards the same group Sam found himself sitting in between. Y/N tugged at the sleeve of Jake’s shirt, wary eyes scanning over his face- his face that still housed an expression of fury and indignation. “We should go back to our table,” he heard her say and through his fit of white rage, he nodded and stomped to where her parents were. 

“You were never part of that friend group?” Jake nodded towards where Veronica and Sam were, eyeing their group’s antics and deeming them as annoying only within a few seconds.

“Nope,” Y/N shook her head, pursing her lips as she looped her arm with his.

“They seem cringe,” he offered her a grin, lips tugging upwards ever so slightly as the anger in him slowly diminished at the sight of her smiling back at him. “Not worth it.”

“Agreed.”

Sheila left her parents and brothers at her table, bolting towards Y/N as though she had just been attacked. Even with the solemn smile Y/N assured her with, she still refused to leave her side and stayed chit-chatting with her for the rest of the ceremony, leaving Jake to converse with her parents. The fleeting incident of rage was forgotten, as far as Y/N was concerned. For a little while, just for a little while, she could enjoy the moment; a glass of watermelon juice in her hand, a nostalgic conversation shared with her best friend, the late summer breeze wafting the scent of freshly cut grass towards them as their graduation gowns blew with the wind, their hair tangling up. They were probably some of the last few people left on the field. People were already starting to clean the premises of discarded debris and the afternoon lurked closer with the decreasing temperature. 

“Can we get something to eat?” Sheila asked, shielding the sun from her face with a hand over her head. “People are leaving now anyway.”

Y/N and Sheila found themselves peeking out of the sunroof of Jake”s car, their arms thrusting in the air in triumph and wind blowing their hair into a mess, screaming words of joy. Jake was driving towards a destination Sheila had requested. Take me to one of the restaurants the paparazzi always catch you at, and with a chuckle from the other two, they were off. This led to an afternoon of peace- which seemed to be what Jake, or anyone, felt under the shade of Y/N’s company- while sitting at a corner booth of an Italian restaurant that the pair had visited more than a couple of times and Sheila was thrilled.

Y/N and Jake discovered the restaurant on a night with stormy weather and were too tired to keep driving after a day spent at the gym and practising walking a runway. With the unfortunate luck of not having an umbrella, Jake held up his grey trench coat to cover their heads and ran across the street before they were drenched enough to catch any sickness. In front of them stood the cosy Italian cuisine restaurant which could easily be mistaken for a bar. It had empty bottles of beer strung with fairy lights across its roof and sets of white chairs and tables lining the ins and out of its small dimensions, a huge masonry oven greeting every customer as they walked it. The pair deemed the eatery as one of New York City’s many hidden gems and they were sure Sheila would feel the same once she tasted their Tortellini.

The afternoon consisted of the two girls taking many pictures while Jake joked about them, Sheila moaning about how sumptuous the food tasted, sharing jokes and riddles than made their stomachs clench with laughter and discussions on the many anecdotes and incidents that would go down in their high school’s history. Y/N and Sheila had sat there and broke down how and why their school was both the most magical yet hysterical and deplorable and it was a speech Jake had heard from Y/N many times but as she explained it with her best friend, he could almost see the auras of stress and hatred she held seeping out of her.

In that hour, he heard the stories of how the two girls became friends and how they drifted from people they thought would be in their lives forever. They told him about how there was once a time when their lives in school were so lively that they documented their days in books and how those interludes turned into a living hell. Yet, what made Jake happy was that at least they had each other to lean on, a familiar face to look for amongst a crown of inevitable strangers.

“You know, before this bitch become a hotshot model, we planned on going to the same university and everything,” Sheila wrapped her arms around Y/N’s shoulders and pulled her towards her until their cheeks touched.

Y/N’s smile turned into a toothy grin, her nose scrunching under Jake’s surprised gaze. This was surely something she hadn’t mentioned before and he wondered if wanting to know someone down to the atoms of their existence was even possible. No, he wasn’t mad, nor was he unhappy that there was such a mundane piece of information about her that he didn’t know of, but he wondered just how many plans she made in her life that could never fall through- how many plans in his life that never fell through. He supposed that was what life could be defined as; the things that were and the things that could have been; dreams, hopes and expectations crushed by reality from diamond to dust.

But was the dust really that bad? He ended up becoming a model, after all, one of the best up-and-coming models. Somewhere along the process, he met Y/N and in his opinion, there wasn’t much else he could ask for apart from hoping that whatever it was that he felt for her, she felt the same way. He was hoping she would reciprocate the longing stares and hope-filled compliments and he was hoping that someday, she would feel the warmth and serenity he felt around her. As he looked at her from across the table, his fork raised to fill his mouth with another piece of pasta, Y/N was holding her phone and leaning into Sheila’s side, laughing about some meme they could relate to and in that moment, he thought he could ask for nothing more than her hand for the rest of his life.

“It’s getting late, aren’t you supposed to be home soon?” Y/N piped, licking the white sauce of her carbonara off her lips and holding Sheila’s hand tighter, almost afraid to let go. But she would never say it out loud, willing herself to let another good day come to an end.

Sheila nodded, offering Y/N a hesitant smile. “Can’t we just stay for a little longer?” She whined.

Y/N chuckled, assuming that Sheila felt the same as she did at that moment. “You’re acting like we’re never gonna see each other again.”

“Who knows when we’re gonna meet again!”

“Your university isn’t that far away. We can literally meet up whenever we want.”

With the assurance and final hugs of we’re not in high school anymore, they dropped Sheila off at her house.

Y/N would spend the night at Jake’s apartment as an extended celebration of her graduation. Sunghoon and Jay showed up, regretful of the fact that they came bearing excuses from those who couldn’t arrive. Heeseung had an exam to prepare for, so risking a night drinking wouldn’t be responsible for him. Sunoo was in the middle of writing his college applications and essays, so with all the stress piling on his shoulders all day, he started passing out early and having longer nights of sleep- which sounded like heaven to them. Niki and Jungwon were on a school field trip to Boston to venture and explore the many museums and art galleries it housed- it was a humanities trip.

Jay brought Y/N a gift of a fancy bottle of wine, one from the eighties that he had taken from his dad’s wine cellar. Sunghoon had supplied an almost unlimited supply of cans of beer and it was on those that he, Jay and Jake indulged in and Y/N refused to drink alcohol before she hit legal age. 

It rained that night, a soft drizzle of rain turning into droplets of water hitting the vast windows of Jake’s apartment as thunder started rumbling. The entire balcony was soaked, as was the growing plant of Devil’s Ivy- Y/N had forced him to buy it around two weeks ago, insisting that he start a collection of plants on his balcony and the Devil’s Ivy would be the first addition. He would let her pick the next plant to buy and the one after that and the one after that because something about seeing her decorating his apartment brought immense pleasure to him.

The four of them played various board games that night; Snakes and Ladders, Pictionary and even Monopoly. At one point, they were caught up in a screaming match while arguing about the rules of UNO which slowly transitioned into a messy game of dumb charades. Somewhere between Jake drawing a terrible rendition of a wolf in a tutu and sometime past midnight, Sunghoon had gotten shamelessly drunk and Jake had gotten tipsy, but he quickly sobered up with a single cup of coffee. Y/N and Jay were left to take care of Sunghoon while Jake lay beside him in bed, a massive headache eating away at his skull and banging against his temples.

Y/N knew Sunghoon as the quiet, shy and skittish boy everyone would admire from afar and his habit of drinking wasn’t exactly a surprise but seeing him laid in bed, pushing and kicking his blanket away while blabbering incoherent strings of words brought out a whole new perspective of him. It was an endless cycle of Jay covering his frame with a blanket, only for it to be flung off his body and Y/N was trying to talk the boy down with words that, in the end, meant nothing. Sunghoon blabbered about how his love life was so dry lately and how none of his relationships could last, even those that seemed perfect with women that he thought would be the love of his life. Though normally, it was a sight Y/N would laugh at, at that moment, she found herself empathising with him and her expression was glitching, faltering off her face.

“You know how moles have meanings?” Sunghoon babbled, slapping his hand onto his pale forehead.

“Yeah,” Jay sighed, giving up on the blanket and kneeling on the side of the bed. He rested his elbows on the mattress, hands holding his chin up.

“So, I have a mole on my right pinky toe,” he started and Y/N nodded as if she were amused. Jay hummed along to his words as if he were interested. “One day I was bored and I decided to google the meaning. Guess what it said?”

“What?” Jay asked.

“I said guess!”

With another sigh, Jay swallowed and made his best guess. “That you’ll get fortunate in life?”

“No!” Sunghoon flailed his arms in the air, then huffed as he fisted the ends of the blanket that was resting at his hips. “Google said that I’ll always face issues in my love life and marital life,” he frowned in an almost child-like manner, tilting his head towards Jay as though he was asking for pity. “So I’m basically never going to find true love.”

“‘Hoon,” Jay clicked his tongue. “Don’t believe what the internet says and just sleep will you?” He brought the blanket up to his chin again, only for it to be strewn across the room.

This time, Sunghoon yelled curses in Korean.

Y/N found herself chuckling, hiding her laugh behind her hand and Jay looked over his shoulder with eyes squinting to slits. She hurried out a few apologies, raising her arms in defence and taking a few steps back. Jay didn’t know how many times he sighed that night but if he had to be grateful for anything, it was Jake’s slumber and Y/N’s patience to deal with drunk people.

“You should try sleeping, Y/N,” he offered, noticing her eyelids fluttering shut every few minutes. “You’ve had a long day.”

“It’s alright,” she walked backwards until she reached the giant bean bag sitting at the corner of the room, beside the balcony. Her hands rested behind her head, her legs crossing as she smirked at Jay. “I’ll stay awake until Sunghoon and you fall asleep.”

Jay grinned. “Alright, hotshot.”

Her promise was broken because within five minutes, she had drifted asleep while curled up on the soft, cloudy bean bag.

It was due to a loud crack of thunder that Jake sprung out of bed, cold sweat trickling down the side of his face and his chest heaved with a lack of breath. He had just woken up from a dream, one where he was back at Y/N’s high school again and had fulfilled his urge to beat Sam to a pulp. In this dream, Y/N was crying in Sheila’s shoulder, crying about how she was scared she would never love another or another would never love her and then he was holding Sam by the collar, yelling profanities at him- profanities that begged why he broke a beautiful soul, why he tore the livelihood of a girl with so much potential for life. Just as Jake was about to confess his love for her, he woke up. It was a terrible, nerve-wracking dream.

Another bolt of thunder let him blink, his head turning to look around the room. Sunghoon snored beside him, his legs strewn in an awkward yet seemingly comfortable manner. Jay was asleep on a chair beside Sunghoon, holding a pillow close to his chest as his head nodded onto his shoulder. Y/N was sleeping on his beloved bean bag, one that she had grown fond of throughout the many times she had visited his apartment. She was curled up, hugging her knees to her chest and leaning her head onto the glass of the balcony window. Her brows were furrowed, though, as if she were caught up in a dream- her lips occasionally twitched. Jake didn’t think much of it and slipped out of his bed, ignoring the way Sunghoon mumbled nonsense in his sleep.

Jake padded towards his kitchen, preparing to make himself ramen as a midnight snack. He added spam and an egg and even added a slice of cheese to it because he knew Y/N liked her ramen that way and he also knew she always got happy when he ate something she liked. His ramen was accompanied by a cup of tea, holding a mug and a ramen bowl in either hand as he walked back to his room and set his food beside the bean bag Y/N was nuzzled in. He brought her a blanket, draping it over a frame and smiling as she pulled it closer to her with a hum- her brows unfurrowed. He pondered for a while, eyes never leaving her now peaceful state with crossed arms and debating what to do next until he was sleepy again.

He didn’t know what exactly he was thinking but he knew he was thinking about Y/N. She was a topic that occupied the many nooks and crannies of his brain for many months and he wasn’t complaining. He was just growing impatient now, praying harder and harder every day that someday, she would be his; that someday, he could call her his own. As he kneeled down to reach her level, taking her nimble hand in his, he leaned toward her forehead to plant a feather-like kiss. His lips stayed on her skin, a sensation so soft yet so warm it made him feel fuzzy and he finally understood what the poets meant with their word choice. It would be the first time he kissed her in any form and he decided he liked it- the feeling of her skin on his lips. And he decided he would do it more often and form it a habit.

Y/N had habits of her own to project on Jake. She refused to finish any chocolate she ate without asking if Jake wanted any and she always wished him a good morning and good night no matter the circumstances. Wherever she went without him, she’d buy him a bracelet or any small trinket as a souvenir. She had gone to a few beaches with her family for vacation and she brought him back sea shells- Jake still had everything she ever gave him, tucked away in a drawer or scattered across his shelves. Jake, out of love, had a few habits of his own like always calling her or sending her a few texts every day, even on days that they were too busy for themselves. Whenever he saw a vibrant flower, he would pluck it and slide it in her hair, behind her ear. He would never watch a movie or show without asking if she wanted to watch it with him because he knew how much she liked watching things with other people- and her answer was usually always yes. Jake always bought her rings or bracelets or necklaces- some type of jewellery- whenever he found the chance because her love for them was uncanny. One could never find Y/N Y/L/N without rings or bracelets on her hand and earrings dangling on her ears.

The more he thought about it, the more he realised his friendship with her sounded like what she described her and Sam used to be but a huge part of Jake couldn’t care. Because now, she didn’t wish for Sam back and she gave Jake what she couldn’t give anyone else and he was giving her what she didn’t get but craved and deserved. Consistency. 

Anyone that loves you is gonna take care of you this way, Y/N. Anyone that loves you is gonna treat you the way he used to. There was nothing special about that. Jake was special because he refused to leave. No matter how much she hurt him and no matter how much he lost hope in finding requited love in her, he would never leave and he would never change.

As thunder decreased, he slid into the leftover space on the bean bag, draping the little amount of blanket left on his lap. With one hand holding his tea and the other his phone, he smiled to himself, feeling the warmth of her arm on his. He would stay in that position until he drifted asleep, his head leaning on her shoulder and arms intertwined. 

WITHIN TWO WEEKS OF her graduation, Y/N moved out of her parents' house. She bought an apartment of her own, one that was closer to Jake’s apartment and Sheila’s university. With extensive help from Jay, whose dad had connections with house brokers and Tony, who bargained his way to a cheap amount, Y/N had managed to buy an apartment with her savings and a little more money from her parents. It had two bedrooms, two bathrooms, and a large enough kitchen to fit three people. But most important of all was her balcony. Her huge balcony, which could fit an entire sofa set on its own, was her favourite aspect of her new home and she already knew she would spend most of her free time there.

She decided to paint her apartment on her own, deeming appointing painters from outside would be too expensive. Some days, she would paint alone and other days, Jake would be there to help, or Sheila or her parents. She didn’t let anyone else even know she had an apartment of her own, cutting off all contact with everyone from high school. Jake’s friends would come over sometimes too, bringing housewarming gifts in the form of new bed sheets, throw pillows or paintings found in flea markets. In about a month, her apartment would be ready, fully painted and furnished, decorated in a manner that fulfilled her dreams of having her own place to live.

The walls were painted a dark shade of brown, a shade so dark that it would be impossible to tell its colour unless the morning rays of sunshine hit the paint. The kitchen, on the other hand, stayed dull ivory and her average-sized fridge would always be stocked with drinks and cake, along with her favourite vegetables to cook. Her pantry was always filled with snacks and fruits, not because she would have guests around all the time but because she had a habit of eating when bored or stressed. She made a hobby of collecting different flavours of pop tarts and cereals and Jake even made fun of her for it.

The first few days of living alone were daunting. There were nights when Jake or her parents couldn’t stay over because they were busy or were too tired to drive and there were nights when she couldn’t even sleep. Y/N overthought a lot. Being alone didn’t do her any good but one day, Sheila called her in the middle of the night to check up on her and with that conversation, she knew that she could do it. She knew that being entirely independent of then on wouldn’t be an issue. Jake was half an hour away from her house and Sheila’s dorm was forty-five minutes away. Tony would regularly spend time with her while she worked and sometimes when she got back home, Jake would be sitting on her couch with two bowls of ramen, waiting for her company.

Life got better as she settled in. She wished life would stay as simple as this forever- her, her parents, a couple of friends and a well-paying job.

She had decorated her balcony with a few cushioned chairs and a swing, potted vine plants in the opposite corner. Sitting on the swing and reading became her favourite pass time when she was home alone. She would have her laptop with her sometimes, either watching something while sipping coffee or writing the next preposterous story she conjured up. She let the bustle of New York become the background music to her life and watched the sun set and rise sometimes and it quickly became a lifestyle. Jake would be with her sometimes, leaning against the railings and watching the moon rise and fall with her. Sometimes they would be talking, sometimes they stood in complete silence, simply enjoying each other's presence.

Niki and Jungwon visited her apartment a lot. Their dancing and karate classes were ten minutes away from where she lived and they would walk over to her apartment. They usually took naps to recharge before going back home and starting their school work. Other times, they would eat whatever food Y/N would graciously prepare for them. If they were feeling energetic, they’d ramble about their days, and tell her the most mundane things that happened and Y/N would listen to them like she were their guardian angel and she listened with a bright smile on her face and no complaints. Heeseung would pick them up to take home but other times it would be Jay, Sunghoon or Sunoo. It was rare that Jake was asked to pick them up and drop them home- he was only called in emergencies.

Once Y/N finally bought a car, she was the one dropping the kids home. She had to save up for a few more months but she bought a car and her life would be complete once she had enough money to buy a bike. She didn’t need Tony to pick her up for errands anymore and that brought her to the reality of becoming a full-fledged independent adult. It wasn’t the fact that she had to buy groceries alone, sleep alone and manage her schedule herself, shower and brush her teeth without her parents having to pester her for it- no, she realised she was growing up when Tony no longer had to pick her up anymore. Because she had a car and now she knew why everyone was furious over gas prices increasing and understood the frustration of traffic. 

Suddenly, she was just a normal person with no baggage from failed relationships and drifted friendships. She was simply an adult with issues about gas and water bills and figuring out what to cook for dinner, all the while making ample amounts of money. 

She felt normal. She felt great.

Going on late-night drives became another one of her acquired habits, easing into her nightly routines on times she couldn’t fall asleep. She would water her plants, close all the windows, prepare the ingredients of what she wanted for breakfast and respond to whatever emails Tony forwarded to her before mounting in her car and driving off into an abyss of lights, noise, a blanket of stars and a carpet of tar. That night would be no different, knuckles curling around the familiar steering wheel and she found herself on the highway amongst other cars and trucks and a few rare sightings of bike riders. She was smiling, laughing even as she sang along to the radio and enjoyed her own company. For the first time in a long time, she was able to enjoy doing things on her own and laugh on her own and she prayed to God nothing could take that away from her again. She was happy while reading and annotating her books alone, eating alone, watching shows and movies alone, watching the sunset alone and now, she was happy while driving and singing One Direction alone. 

Though she was independent and could make reckless decisions, she concluded that driving out of town at an ungodly hour would be a trip uncalled for so she was on her way back home and sitting in the passenger's seat was a big box of chocolate cake she picked up in the only bakery open past midnight. She was stuck at a red light, humming her way through the sixty-second count down and nodding her head to the beat of whatever song played on the radio. She was living on a plane of oblivion until she opened her eyes and looked around the rest of the cars and the rose-coloured glasses slipped right off her view.

Beside hers was a matte black car and in it sat Sam, a grin on his face as he glanced at the girl sitting beside him, his girlfriend- the girl he told Y/N not to worry about. 

Suddenly, the world around her came crashing in the form of stiffened bones and pressure beating against her skull. Her body was shaking but she couldn’t move and her hands were stuck to the steering wheel, a gulp tearing down her throat. She felt, to put it simply, awful and she wished she could forget about traffic rules and drive off but she couldn’t and she convinced herself that they were clueless about her presence beside them.

His girlfriend had a ring on her finger and they were kissing while holding hands. They were happy and they were in love and a quick check on Instagram confirmed that they were engaged. Y/N didn’t know how she ended up in front of Jake’s apartment but she was standing there with messy hair and in desperate need to fall into her definition of a perfect limbo again, like she was in only thirty minutes ago. 

When Jake heard his doorbell ring, he knew exactly who was standing on the other side but he was never expecting the sudden visit. It was past midnight, he was half asleep and he had an early appointment with an editor in the morning but none of that mattered when his assumption was confirmed once he looked through the peephole. He was still in his sweatpants, a sweaty shirt covering his torso and flattened hair covering his forehead and though she had seen him in states much worse before, a wave of consciousness still took over him and he debated changing before answering the door but then it could be too late and he didn’t want her running off into the night.

He had terrible breath and his eyes could barely stay open due to his sore eyelids but he opened the door anyway and Y/N stood in front of him in all her glory. Her hair was messier than his, strands falling on the sides of her face in soft curls and the rest reaching her waist in waves that reminded him of a messy day at the beach. He knew her natural hair was his favourite style on her but it was the last thing he could focus on when he noticed the pain in her starry eyes. It was a kind of pain he had never seen on her before, it was a kind of pain that made him think she could die of heartbreak anytime soon. She chewed on her lips intensely and her gaze darted around everywhere until it landed on him, skin paled into the glow of a ghost.

“Jake,” she breathed and she sounded as though a shard of glass had pierced through her heart. “They’re engaged.”

“What?” His eyes could finally widen, following her as she walked through his apartment and into his room.

“What?” She exclaimed and her hands were in her hair, gripping the roots as her keys dangled off her index.

Jake stepped towards her, cautious hands in front of him as he attempted to wrap his arms around her. “Y/N-”

“It hurts!” She yelled, flinging the keys across the room and a crack echoed off the walls of his bedroom- it was either a hole in his wall or the break of her car keys.

In all the time Jake knew Y/N, it would be the first time she heard her yell until her voice shrilled. It was the first time he had ever seen her throw something- break something- in an attempt to ease her anger and pain. Since he had known her, she was always true to her belief in working through anger in the form of words rather than violence. The gym or sports was a healthy option she advised but breaking household items and punching other people was something she frowned upon. So, he was surprised when she didn’t stop him from taking another step toward Sam on graduation day, fully aware that he would have punched him if it weren’t for Veronica pushing them apart. And he was surprised now, that Y/N was gripping the roots of her hair and gritting between her teeth, her car keys laying broken in the corner of his bedroom.

The next ten minutes was a montage of her throwing hands and shoving him away as he clasped his arms around her frame. He didn’t know how, but they ended up on the floor, Y/N curled into his chest as she sobbed about how clueless she was about her emotions. She sobbed about how she wished she were a different person and she sobbed about everything she couldn't grieve over in ten minutes and Jake listened to it all while stroking her hair, shedding a few tears of his own as his lips buried in her hair. They didn’t move, simply stayed there as a permanent kiss, shuddering every time she did. And somehow, he carried her to his bed, seating her on the edge of the mattress and he kneeled in front of her while holding her hands in his palms- just the way he let her hold his heart in her palms without her even knowing it.

“I thought you were over him, Y/N,” he sighed, voice flowing in a broken whisper. His head tilted to the floor and he wet with pruned lips. Jake felt the tips of Y/N’s fingers brush over his hair, fixing its parting and nimbly trying to style it as a way of distraction.

“I don’t know why I’m like this,” her voice was hoarse, having no other option but to speak lowly and her eyes were puffy. “He’s giving her what I’ve always wanted-”

“Getting engaged right after high school, that’s what you wanted?” He raised his brows, eyes almost judging the words that were slipping out of her mouth.

“No,” she whined, whipping off the stray tears off her cheek. “I wanted consistency, I wanted him to be true to his words and I wanted him to prioritise me but-”

“But he didn’t, Y/N, for fuck’s sake he didn’t,” Jake shifted to sit beside her, voice raising enough to make Y/N flinch. “What’s so special about him?”

“I don’t know, Jake,” she shook her head, sniffling her nose. “I don’t know, I don’t know. Maybe because he offered more to me than anyone in my life. Maybe it’s because I’m scared I’ll never find someone so fitting for me, someone who can read me. I’m scared I’m not capable of loving anyone else. I’m scared someone will never look at me and fall in love with me and I’m scared I’ll never be enough for someone. I’m scared I’m destined to die alone, Jake,” she heaved a breath. “I’m scared I’ll never be anyone's favourite person, I’m scared I’ll never be somebody’s number one. I’m scared I won’t find the person that’ll want to do everything with me.”

“What if that person is right in front of you?”

A little over a year ago, when Jake was introduced to Y/N, his biggest wish was to crumble the walls she had built so high to hide her true identity. His biggest wish was to know her, understand her, befriend her, and have her in some form or the other. Now he had her, crying to him and confiding in him and sharing everything including pieces of her happiness with him but it wasn’t enough. To brush her hair and hold her hands while she was crying over a broken past wasn’t enough but to kiss her lips and lull her to sleep felt more appropriate to him- he wanted more and he wanted to give her more. He craved it more than a kid craved cotton candy and he yearned for it more than a soldier waiting to come back home to family. 

Now, she was looking at him with tears brimming her eyes, fresh tears meant for Jake rather than her history. Her lips were in a minuscule parting, teeth peeking out from behind her lips yet her breath was caught in her throat, failing to escape her lungs. She felt his every move, the way his fingers weaved with hers, the way his eyes darted between the changes in her features and the way his breaths were heavier as he moved to sit closer to her, anticipating a viable reaction from her. Y/N couldn’t help but feel deja vu as she let his stare weigh her down, bringing her back to the day they met at GQ’s headquarters and when he asked her to go to a cafe with him. At the time, she would admit that she expected more than friendship from him but as they grew closer and became increasingly important figures in each other's lives, whatever hopes and expectations she had in him were suppressed and the reassurance of a constant figure surfaced.

“I want to do everything with you, Y/N,” Jake continued, knowing that she was too in shock to give any response to him. “And it hurts me every time you think or talk or mention or cry about Sam because what is it that I don’t have? What has he given you that I couldn’t in the past year? What is so goddamn special about a guy that fucking left you? I stayed because you’re you and I stayed because you make me so damn happy. You’re my favourite person. You’re the person I want to be beside while doing everything, you’re the person I’m excited to talk to at the end of the day and you're the person I prioritise over anyone else-”

“Why?”

“Because I love you.”

There was so much desperation in his voice, an ample amount of fear that made Y/N’s knees weak. He was scared because there was a chance she could stand up and walk away without a word, there was a chance she would push him away and there was a chance she could laugh at his face and list out everything that made him unworthy of her but instead, all he got was glassy, doll-like eyes darting across his features robotically, as though she was reading every strand of DNA in his fibres. If it weren’t for the grazing sounds of the curtains dancing with the wind, he thought he could explode in the silence- perhaps the silence was a loud enough answer, which Jake refused to accept. In every beat of his heart, he could feel the essence of his soul slipping away from his being; like her response ruled his life or death.

The silver rays of the moon illuminated a purple hue on her face, reflecting the violets of the curtains. He thought, if they were in a photography studio, he would be quipping stills of her from all the angles she looked beautiful in and he would print his favourite picture out and hang it up on his wall. He could see her lips quiver as the wheels in her head turned, the fog in her eyes setting as though she was letting another wall crumble. 

Jake felt the world around him spin and his bed suddenly felt like heavenly clouds and his room transformed into light blue skies as her hand tightened in his. He was floating, body suspended in thin air but Y/N was stuck to the same spot in his bed, unknown to the breeze he felt flowing through his floating hair and lifting shirt- it almost felt like he was in a cartoon, flying around between clouds and flocks of birds. He could see the line that drew between reality and fantasy, light blue contrasting with the darkness in his room, and he had to wait until he would be sucked back in again.

“Keep it that way,” she said.

“What?”

“Everything you just said. Keep it that way and I’m all yours,” her words were a timid whisper. A rush of blood gushed to her cheeks as she almost embarrassingly made eye contact with Jake. It sounded as though she had said those words millions of times before, as though she had rehearsed it, again and again, to be said at the perfect moment. Jake had to wonder if she thought about this, him, as much as he did her. 

Nothing made sense to him, nor was he going to ask questions.

In a fleeting moment, Jake felt like his soul flung back into his body like he was waking up from a dream of falling off a building. He fell back, head nestled into the plethora of pillows near his headboard and back settling into the mattress and hovering above him was Y/N, a confused grin about her expression which she couldn’t control and her hands stuck to the pillow on either side of his head. He wasn’t sure how they found themselves in their predicament but his hands were gripping her waist like his life depended on it and if he wiggled his pinky finger, he would be able to feel her warm skin under her white shirt. 

“Say that again,” Jake’s lips parted, his breath close enough to fan against her neck and his nose close enough to touch hers.

“Say what?” She asked, pulling her bottom lip between her top teeth while he wondered if the shade of innocence on her face was a simple act she put up.

“You know what I’m talking about,” he breathed.

“That I’m all yours?”

“Exactly.”

Jake was flipping them over, a light yelp of surprise as Y/N’s head hit the pillows and he hovered over her, positions exchanged between them. His breath was heaving, hair falling over his forehead and lips parting, then pursing in a continuous loop while she wondered what he was planning on doing. The world around them froze, the curtains floating in a ghastly position and the moon pausing its process of setting. They couldn’t hear cars or trucks and they couldn’t hear the air conditioning. All that mattered was their breath and the way their heartbeats synced along with their levels of anticipation.

She felt his hand on the side of her face, knuckles brushing away strands of coiled hair and exposing more of the fatigue in her eyes. “I’m gonna kiss you,” Jake whispered and Y/N gulped, nodding with hooded eyes. “And I’ll be damned if you think of anyone other than me,” and without thinking, letting a surge of adrenaline shoot up his spine, he leaned forward and their lips finally, finally, touched.

It was only a peck, a kiss long enough for Jake to feel the carve of her lips and for Y/N to relish in the feeling of butterflies and a foggy head. Her eyes fluttered shut and she stayed in her position as he pulled away, taking a moment to examine her features, soft and tranquil as she waited for more with a rising chest. Jake had been waiting for this moment since the day he laid his eyes on her, since the day he learned her name and since the day he had dubbed her an important person in his life. And the moment was perfect, regardless of the salt tracks on her cheeks and regardless of the hatred he held for the reason for her tears.

Then, he lowered his head again, eyes screwing shut and his lips touching hers for the second time and all sense of time was lost. They kissed like the act brought then oxygen, an intensity filled with sucked-in breaths and fighting tongues, lips refusing to part no matter who was pulling away. Their legs tangled and their hands held each other as though they were the last two people in an ending world. His fingers combed through her hair and he held her jaw, then wrapped his fingers around her neck as he adjusted himself to kiss her comfortably.

He held her softly like she were a feather, skimming the tips of his fingers over her skin before kissing every inch of her, parted lips painting pink and blue bruises onto parts of her chest that would be hidden later. She moaned for him and she moaned his name and he was proving to her that she was capable of loving him just as much as he loved her and he was proving to her just how much he worshipped her with cautious yet feral actions. They weren’t robotic, moving in a synced flow as if they knew exactly what the other was going to do.

And it was perfect, like how anyone would imagine their first time with their true loves to be. Only, these lovers were lucky enough to acquire it.

Words could not describe the euphoria Jake felt that night while he held her to his chest, her fingers drawing meaningless shapes on his shoulder with her hair sprawled across the pillow. His fingers trailed up and down her arm while he spoke about his year-long pining towards her, all his dreams and fantasies of taking her on dates and bringing her flowers and waking up to her every morning. Y/N hummed along, a soft smile on her face as she pressed her cheek into his chest, occasionally piping about how much she'd love to go to an art gallery or the aquarium with him because, in all honesty, she had also imagined rendezvousing to the same places with him. For Jake, having her bare and vulnerable on him and giving him her all was another dream come true.

"You know, I've been thinking of taking up photography," he mused, placing yet another kiss on her forehead.

"Oh, yeah?" Y/N grinned in glee, a twinkle in her eyes. "You should, you can become the next top photographer," she giggled.

The thought popped into his head a little while after Y/N's graduation day. The pictures he had taken of her and the ambience around were praised by everyone he had shown them to, especially Niki, an avid photography enthusiast himself. He had told him that the pictures were worthy enough to be published in magazines and made into billboards and if he mastered a few tricks on editing, he'd be a professional in no time. Since then, he wouldn’t go anywhere without his newly bought camera, taking pictures with the most effort he could. His muse was usually Y/N and other times, he would be taking pictures of Sunghoon or Jungwon.

Y/N had noticed his new interest and fondness for photography around a month ago when they went shopping for carpets and bedsheets. They were at a furniture store Jay had directed them to visit and he brought his camera, taking random pictures of people on the street and candid pictures of her picking through an array of carpets and fabrics. He had even asked her to model and strike a few poses, which she did with laughter as people eyed the pair with judgement. A few pictures later, it got awkward and they moved on to the next store but Y/n was not surprised at all that he was now thinking of studying photography. But, she was excited for him and they would celebrate it with the cake that was forgotten in her car.

Modelling didn't bring Jake the same thrill it did three years ago. It had become a norm for him, a lifestyle he had no plans of escaping for the next few years. Maybe he’d venture into the world of acting or singing or maybe even start a modelling firm of his own, but at the moment, as he thought about juggling between a modelling career and photography school, he felt giddy the way a kid would feel about a free lollipop at the dentists. 

“I think I’m gonna go to college,” Y/N said, her voice soft and unmoving as though the decision she made had been written in stone for years.

“Psychology?” Jake confirmed.

“Yeah,” she sighed, smiling into his chest.

SCHEDULES WERE BECOMING HECTIC to remember and ever since Y/N started community college, forgetting her next errand to attend or perform became a habit. She drove home in a hurry, her hair a wild mess pleated away in a braid. She flung the door open and threw her bag over the first table she walked past and her wide blinking eyes spoke nothing but panic as she realised how she was late to yet another meeting with a designer she was supposed to meet and model for-

“Y/N?”

Tony and Sheila were seated on her couch, staring at their friend like she was possessed by an eccentric ghost. Her outfit, an untucked shirt and black tie and skirt, was unshoveled and it looked as though she had almost fallen off a high-speed rollercoaster. Y/N turned her head towards them with surprise, wide eyes softening just a smidge as she stopped emptying her pockets and purse in search of her ID card.

“What? Oh, hello!” She chuckled, moving stray strands of hair away from her face. “I’m so sorry, I can’t stay. I have a meeting I’m supposed to attend-”

“-Y/N,” Tony repeated, now more assertive. “That meeting is tomorrow,” he reminded her.

“Oh,” Y/N breathed, letting go of her purse with a thud. “Oh, thank God,” she celebrated with a gleaming smile. “Then what are you doing here?”

“I came to discuss a potential for a hand modelling contract?”

“Oh, no. I’m a terrible candidate for it, my nails never grow evenly and I have a few scabs and picked skin around my fingers,” she waved off and Tony nodded with pursed lips. She turned to look at Sheila, brows raising in question.

“Oh, I just came to visit because he said you’d be free for the rest of the day.”

Sheila and Tony met early into Y/N’s modelling career. It was an unexpected meeting- Y/N and Tony were on their way to a McDonald’s to grab a snack and Sheila was there with her brother, enjoying a cheap lunch before going to the movies. So the two groups merged into one and they spent the evening together. Tony and Sheila had grown to become friends since then, occasionally texting if they needed anything from each other or calling to see if it would a good day to meet and go to the movies again.

“I’m free for the rest of the day?” Y/N piped. “The day could not get any better, I swear I need a day off. I’m tired,” she sighed.

Just as she pulled herself towards the couch, Jake flung the door open with Heeseung and Sunghoon trailing behind him, each holding a plastic bag of take-out food. When Jake’s gaze landed on Y/N, his smile brightened and when he noticed Tony and Sheila, he raised the bag in his hand like he was presenting the food to them. “Everyone’s here!” He beamed. “We’re all gonna have lunch together.”

“Yeah, I gotta shower before that, though,” Heeseung beelined away from the group and ventured into Y/N’s house like he had been there a hundred times before- which was true.

Jake, before doing anything else, greeted Y/N with a kiss and walked toward the kitchen.

While Jake, Sunghoon and Tony set up the table together, Sheila dragged Y/N to sit with her so she could comb her hair. She was whining about how she was lazy to shower and change her clothes and would do her skin-care routine later in the night so the least she could do was fix her tangled and knotted hair. It was tranquil between everyone, the guys occasionally speaking a few phrases to catch up and Sheila catching Y/N up on how college was and how exam season was coming soon.

“Oh, yeah, Even I have to start studying for exams,” Y/N tutted, shaking her head as Sheila rounded the rubberband to her braid.

“You should have enrolled in my university, we could have helped each other!”

“I know, but community college is much easier!”

Everyone sat around the table for lunch when Heeseung finally showed up, rubbing a towel against his wet hair with a grin on his face at the sight of food. While they ate, Sunghoon explained how Jay couldn’t show up because he had a project to prepare for and Jungwon and Niki were in dancing and taekwondo classes. Sunoo was caught up with his chemistry professor, writing his next research paper.

“I haven’t met Sunoo yet,” Sheila mused while chewing on a piece of cabbage.

“Yeah, you have,” Y/N reminded her while pointing her fork towards her.

“Yeah, I have, but I didn’t properly talk him like this,” she referred to the impromptu lunch plans she was intertwined in.

“That’s because he’s always busy with classes or work or studies,” Jake said.

“Don’t worry, we’ll make you talk someday,” Heeseung assured while smirking and continuing to eat broccoli. 

The group talked and talked and filled each other in about various aspects of their lives and steered to topics that didn’t even relate to themselves. Tony left soon as he had to meet his fiance and Sunghoon left to practise for his next ice-skating performance. Then Sheila left too because her dorm would close soon and it was just Heeseung, Jake and Y/N sitting on the couch and passing around the last glass of orange juice. They attempted to play cards but it got dull so they watched a movie together instead, a really old black and white movie that Y/N was itching to watch and even though it was boring too, their commentary and jokes made it all the better. 

Eventually, it was only her awake, Jake and Heeseung passed out on the couch with a thin blanket shared between them. Y/N pondered about her life that night, realising that she had started a new chapter long before she even realised it. She thought about Sheila and how they had grown to become more like sisters over the past few months. She thought about Jake and how healthy their relationship was, how easy it was to be herself around him. She thought about Tony and the way he was part of her family before anyone else. She thought about Heeseung, Jay, Sunghoon, Sunoo, Jungwon and Niki and how they treated her house like their own because they’ve visited so many times and spent the night so many times. They made memories there, the residue of beer on her ceiling caused by Sunghoon was never painted over and the crack on the corner of her coffee table caused by Jungwon who tried attempting a high kick in the middle of the hall never got fixed.

She thought about how her present was worthy enough to forget about her past. She thought about how she had everything she’d ever wanted.

#full ver. of my last reblog!! #me after him #ckvsen #sim jaeyun #my love

[sleepingrenjun]

𝐌𝐄 𝐀𝐅𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐇𝐈𝐌

PAIRING- [Jake Sim x Fem!Reader]!Model au

SUMMARY- messy break ups led to a scrambled mental health and it was Y/N’s first time experiencing it. So, in desperation for a change of pace, she started juggling lives between modelling and high school. Even with a seemingly lavish life, everything seemed empty and barren until Jake came along and he was everything she was missing.

Or in which he loved her even when she couldn’t.

The soul purpose of their story was for her to love him.

NOTES AND WARNINGS- I haven’t written in a while so this may seem a lil rocky and I know it’s a really long one but please read it regardless. Fuck I hate it sm I hate myself like the ending is so abrupt but I guess that’s the whole point. Man there’s so much editing that went into this. And it’s so long like what, I didn’t know I had it in me. Anyways please read and please I’m begging you give me feedback. Yes thank you. Oh and also the scenes where the other members are mentioned are so homely, funny and like heartwarming I wish I had them this way fml. AND ALSO I MIGHT EDIT THE ENDINF MUCH LATER CUZ YEAH!! Updated: 17-07-2022. Ty @kcluv for letting me use this layout

WORD COUNT- 26k

ᴍᴀsᴛᴇʀʟɪsᴛ | ᴇɴʜʏᴘᴇɴ ᴍᴀsᴛᴇʀʟɪsᴛ

내 맘 너는 아는지 가끔

#reblogging again bc the og was deleted :(( #such a good read !!! #me after him #ckvsen #sim jaeyun #my love

[sleepingrenjun]

JAKE ♡ MINI FAN MEETING @ INKIGAYO 220717

#holy fuck he’s so pretty #sim jaeyun #my love

[sleepingrenjun]

𝐮𝐧𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐮𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐫𝐞 : part 3

their profiles (updated profiles) | [a playlist] | masterlist

PAIRING ▸ lee heeseung x fem bodied!reader

SUMMARY ▸ heeseung makes progress towards isa becoming his girlfriend- until he doesn't and you wonder if he made it backfire on purpose.

WORD COUNT ▸ 10,956

GENRE ▸ enemies 2 lovers, angst, SMUT ; blowjob, almost? sex lol, masturbation

TAGLIST ▸ @rerequire @mymeloem19 @shadowsofthewild @defxciii @heejaykeluv @nikirikii @enhaluv22 @holybxba yedammi @lhsng @bamchanbin @nalwhare @i-dalso @jaeyunslut @laffatae @skzimaginesmainblog @kimmchijjajang @jays-blue @heesquared @hoon-lvr @hoonlv @axartia @bluesoobinnie  @cyuuupid @eulaenthusiast @lalalalawon @bunhoons @enhasengene @blond4enha @pythonilyn @snowyseungs @soobnism @leviathanlee26 @moonlightgrleric @leefra98  @markleeisdabestdrug @heartkatemiddleton @snowyseungs @slut-4-jake @cloudednines @yizhoutv @missharubear  @gobighee @lizdevorak  @bbakuhoee @esuilinfoster @shiningdery

minors dni

HEESEUNG THOUGHT HIS AWFUL LUCK HAD TURNED AROUND WHEN HIS TEACHER ASSIGNED HIM AND LEE ISA TO CLEAN THE CLASSROOM TOGETHER.

heeseung had never thought he’d enjoy staying after school to clean the classroom. he knows that he’s going to be late to practice, but he could care less about how mad his coach will be when he finds out that not only was he late- that he was late because he came into class late that day.

heeseung describes himself as an honest man- and to be an honest man he must admit that he doesn’t have the best track record when it comes to school or his attendance (or girls) and it wasn’t new to him that his teacher punished him to clean the class once everyone was gone. usually, he’d play the practice card and his teacher would sigh but let him off- but today, when lee isa stepped foot into the classroom a minute late after him he seemed to have lost that card.

he thought it was unusual for good girl lee isa to be late to class- because she was never late for class. her attendance was perfect as well. heeseung thinks it’s another part about her that he likes.

heeseung has thought many times about lee isa and what he likes about her; from her perfect nose and smile to the way the ends of her bang on her right side curls inwards. but what he wants most is how she’s so different from him. the main difference is that he knows she wouldn’t hurt someone- ever.

heeseung cringes at the thought of him hurting people. memories of ex-friends ’faces getting so red with anger, girls he had just hooked up with crying in front of him- and you- flash through his mind.

heeseung isn’t sure what exactly caused him and you to not be able to converse calmly with each other- but it happened around freshman year from what he remembers. his memories with you aren’t the best and some of them make him laugh when he thinks about your reactions and expressions to the things he’s done or said to you. he thinks that you’re always the one to start things- that you can never take a joke and god, that’s all he knows how to do.

he knows that you always say he isn’t self-aware of what he does- but he knows he is. it’s part of his guilty conscience that keeps him up at night. and maybe his self-awareness wasn’t always up to one hundred percent- but it’s definitely grown as of the beginning of his senior year.

he’s so self-aware now that he can realize that not every fight is started by you- though he’s sure you know how to get right under his skin- get him so annoyed that he says things he regrets; like certain insults that he knows hit your insecure bone or posting embarrassing pictures or videos (the iconic vomit vid) of you when you’ve begged him not to.

heeseung used to swear that you have done worse to him than you have done to him, but now he’s not too sure.

heeseung hates to think that you and he have been sworn enemies in every life the both of you had the chance of living together- because he hopes you don't go the rest of your lives hating each other. or more so, that you don’t go the rest of your life hating him.

he wonders if you ever think the same.

heeseung caught the way you wiggled your eyebrows at him obnoxiously when you left the classroom with the other students for the end of the day. he knows that you’re only spending time with him so that you can become better for jake and that it gets isa out of the way of jake for you- but recently sometimes it feels like the two of you are truly just friends.

and heeseung knows his past self would hate to think it, but he’s been having actual fun with you. In fact, the thoughts of you are filling his mind so much that he almost completely misses the way isa speaks to him.

“hm?” heeseung snaps his head to the pretty girl, “sorry?”

isa’s pretty laugh fills the ugly classroom, “i asked why you were late this morning.”

“oh,” heeseung picks up a broom that was leaning against the wall, “I’m always late.”

“well yeah, but there’s no cause for your lateness?” heeseung picks up on isa’s suggesting tone and he raises an eyebrow up at her to question it, “you know, like y/n?”

heeseung feels his eyes widen at her question and part of him feels anxious that he had been speaking out loud, “what?- uh- no!” he cringes at himself yet again. isa’s pretty lips form a suspicious smirk. “really, y/n and i- it’s different.”

“different?” isa stops cleaning the chalkboard, “different how?”

“different like-” heeseung pauses to think about how he should word his next sentence, “like we’re not really together-together if you know what i mean.”

isa still looks confused but nods anyways and turns back to her cleaning, “so do you like each other?”

“we’re just friends.”

isa nods and heeseung focuses on sweeping, hoping that he didn’t just mess up literally everything- which reminds him, “is there anyone that you like?”

isa laughs at heeseung’s rushed-out question, “like in a ‘we’re not really together together way or in an ‘i want to date them’ way?”

“in an ‘i want to date them’ way.”

isa spins on her heel and leans against the newly cleaned board, “why?” she bites her lip and looks up into heeseung’s eyes.

“uh,” heeseung gulps as her eyes pierce so seductively into his own, “well because you know who i’m into- or who i’m not into i mean.”

isa makes a noise to think and she picks at her freshly done nails, “i mean there is a boy that i’m interested in.”

heeseung feels his heart pick up the pace at her words- his body filling with anxiousness and excitement that he struggles with his own body to keep calm and try to think of something to say, “there is?”

“yeah,” isa says with a sweet smile on her lips that makes heeseung want to drop to his knees, “do you want to know?”

“yes.” heeseung states and the quickness of his response shakes isa and him, but isa has a better way of hiding it than he does.

isa twirls her fingers in her pretty hair and takes a few steps towards heeseung so now that she’s a meter in front of him, the height difference is something that neither of them can ignore as heeseung has his whole head and neck bent down to look at her, “well, he’s on the soccer team.”

heeseung curses in his head when he figures it’s jake that she’s talking about and he wishes for a second that he didn’t even ask the stupid question until- “and he’s always late for class.”

“is he?” heeseung feels his confidence return and he’s smirking down at her.

“yeah, but i wasn’t sure if he liked me or not until very recently.”

“oh?” heeseung leans his hands and chin on the broom handle, “and what was the verdict?”

isa smirks back at him and he doesn’t know what is about to happen but he knows that this is something he’s been wishing for for four years and it’s almost everything he’s dreamed of as he steps even closer to him. he can smell her perfume as they look at each other with the same want and lust in their eyes.

heeseung felt like he was on cloud nine from it all.

“you guys can go now,” their teacher popped her head into the classroom, her eyes scanning its cleanliness before her eyes landed on the two of them, “what’re you two up to?”

“nothing mrs.kim!” isa steps back, sweeping up her backpack to throw it over her shoulder, “again, i’m so sorry for being late today! i’m sure it won’t become a regular occurrence!”

“it better not be, unless you want to end up like him,” mrs park teases them as she nods her head at heeseung who is still leaning over the broom with his jaw clenched. “let’s go heeseung, don’t want the coach to be madder at you then he probably already is.” heeseung shakes his head to clear it, smiling at isa who waves to him over their teachers’ shoulder.

their teacher rushing him to practice makes him forget to remind himself to ask isa why she was late for the first time ever today- plus the memories of his and isa’s interaction seem like something better to think about.

the longer you stood outside the party waiting for heeseung the more you hated his guts.

the porch isn’t just occupied by your fuming self but other couples who were making out and smoking. some other kids are laying on the lawn in front of you and you don’t even want to know what they are up to.

it would be your first party that you attended as a ‘couple’. heeseung and you had planned to meet up at the party (god forbid he meets your mother again) so you can walk in together.

fall has officially set into the air and it is making goosebumps rise on your legs from the fabric of your dress not covering them. you have been spamming heeseung with texts for the past ten minutes and he was not answering any of them. you start to wonder if he’s ignoring you and if he’s not going to show up to this party at all.

“hey, y/n, what’re you doing?” you turn at the mention of your name and see jake standing on the porch besides you. his blonde hair falls messily into his eyes and his tan skin looks so pretty in the mix of the moon and porch light.

“just getting some air,” you lie to him and it scares you how easily it seemed to be. you couldn’t tell him that your freshly new boyfriend is potentially ditching you at the moment.

“oh?” jake looks down at your body and then back up to your face, “do you think you’ve had enough? you look awfully cold.”

and suddenly your lying skills are out the window, “uh, no! i’m fine.” jake quirks an eyebrow up at your answer.

“ok, well do you want to come back inside? i lost the guys a while ago and I haven't seen the girls since we all got here.”

“sure,” your mood brightened up at the idea of being with jake. he smiles sweetly at you and you follow him back inside.

there seem to be more people at this party than any of the ones you’ve gone to before and it’s very hard to squeeze your way through the crowd. you’re nervous that you'll lose jake since he’s ahead of you.

suddenly, indicating that he was thinking the same thing he snakes his hand behind himself and grabs hold of your wrist, dragging you successfully behind him now. you try not to focus on the warmth from his skin onto your cold one and try to not lose him.

you both finally stop when you’re in the kitchen and he’s passing you a cup that some other guys are handing out. you’re leaning against the kitchen wall when he joins you with his own.

“i think they’re gonna run out of liquor soon with all the people here,” jake nods towards the crowded living room, “this was like the last of the vodka.”

“why are there so many people here?” you ask him curiously.

“choi yeonjun’s back in town for the weekend.”

“yeonjun?” your voice raises excitedly. “i haven’t seen him in over a year.”

“oh god,” jake groans and leans against the wall beside you, “you’re not gonna ditch me for choi yeonjun too are you?”

you quirk an eyebrow up at him, “what do you mean ‘too’?”

“i mean, haven’t you already ditched me for heeseung?”

“what? no!” you exclaim, “i wouldn’t ditch you for anyone- not heeseung or yeonjun.” jake smiles down at that and he sticks out his pinky finger at you.

“pinky promise?”

you smile and link your finger with his, “pinky promise.”

“good, because i need someone else that’s sober to help me every time our friends get too wasted to get home themselves.”

this time you groan at the memories of both of you dragging chaeryeong off of a lawn chair into the car and the time at sunghoon’s birthday party when both of you had to clean up sunghoon’s vomit from all over the kitchen. your reaction makes jake laugh and your stomach clenches at the sound of it.

“you know, heeseung is pretty lucky to have you,” jake takes a sip of his drink as your eyes widen in shock, “you’re a really great person, y/n.”

in the moment all you can think about is fuck lee heeseung and fuck this stupid plan, “actually jake,” you start and jake’s eyes squint in confusion at you.

a wave of guilt washes over you for some reason and you aren’t sure why. maybe it’s because you’ve been lying to jake for months now. maybe it’s because your friends are going to lose trust in you when they find out you've been lying. or maybe it’s because you feel like you’re going behind heeseung’s back right now.

“jake! come over here!” jay’s voice calls from the other side of the room- over the loud music and talking of all the other people. both of you turn and look at jay who’s waving over jake and is drastically pointed at isa who has her back turned to him. you catch the way jake’s eyes lighten up at the sight of isa who is standing with her friends.

“i’ll see you later, y/n.” jake says without even looking at you, just walking over with his drink still in his hand, jay pats him on the back as he walks past him as well and goes straight up to isa. isa looks just as happy as he does to see him. your heart hurts more at the sight of them hugging quickly in a friendly manner.

you curse lee heeseung for not being here and for making you not be able to open your mouth quicker.

jay’s waving at you catches your eye and he’s calling you over as well, but you couldn’t stand the thought of being so close to jake and isa who was now bending over into each other’s ears and whispering so only they would be able to hear each other. you only shake your head gently with a playful scowl on your face at jay, making him look confused at you. luckily, sunghoon pulls his arm around jay and distracts him, making jay forget about his still position against the wall.

you feel confused as you stand by yourself and watch all your friends have fun amid the big crowd in the living room. the music seems silent while your thoughts are loud and racing. you aren’t sure why you’re feeling so confused, but your stomach turns in disgust every time your eyes drift over jake and isa together.

it’s jealousy and anger mixing around in your chest and you want it all to go away. you feel frustrated that jake and your relationship seem to be stagnant when it could and should be so much more.

you can’t help but think that you’re perfect for each other.

well at least in your mind you’re perfect for each other.

you have fun with jake when you are hanging out with your other friends. the surfing lessons he gave you the past summer were the only times you were alone together- plus everyone else that was at the beach that day. even then, you didn’t get to talk to each other about anything besides the party the night before, your friends or surfing. it makes you wonder what you guys actually know about each other.

“dude i’m so sorry i’m late,” a presence stands beside you (and it luckily blocks your view of isa and jake) and you instantly can tell who it is without looking at him, “coach was kicking my ass because of detention earlier- which by the way- was awesome!” when heeseung saw the distant look in your eyes that weren’t looking at him he stopped, “what’s wrong? you look like you’re about to cry or kill someone.”

“i’m going to kill someone.”

“ou, who?” heeseung turns to look out at the people partying, excited to hear about it. until he felt a harsh slap to his bicep again, “ow!”

“you! i’m going to kill you!” you were grateful for the loud music now.

“what why? i said i’m sorry for being late! i couldn’t tell the coach i needed to leave his punishment practice to party!”

you rolled your eyes and crossed your arms, you could barely look at him right now with all the thoughts of him and jake crossing through your mind at the same time. “are your parents home tonight?”

“no, why?” he asks you, not taking his eyes off of your angry figure.

“because i want to fuck so let’s go.” you grab his wrist of the arm you had hit earlier and start to pull him through the crowds of people. you ignored the looks you were getting as you bumped them to their sides and the calls of your name from heeseung behind you. you only listened to him when you both stood out on the street outside of the house party. “what?”

honestly, heeseung had thought you had lost it. he thought you were so drunk and blinded by whatever had made you so pissed that he thought your brain had stopped working.

“i mean, you want to fuck-fuck or like, just do what we usually do.”

“heeseung,” you grab a hold of both of his upper arms so he looks down into your eyes, “i want your dick inside of me.” and now heeseung thinks his brain is close to stopping as well since “y/n wants me to take her v card” fills up his mind and stops any other thoughts of forming.

“are- are you sure? i mean you said before-” heeseung tries to process what you’re saying and what you want.

“i don’t care what i said before.” you snap at him, “i’m tired of being inexperienced and i’m tired of watching jake fuck every other girl and not me! so please heeseung, just take me back to your house so we can fuck.”

heeseung says ok and then you’re both speeding walking back to his house, little laughs falling out both of your mouths. and although heeseung said ok, he doesn’t feel ok. it's fun almost running through the streets with you so you can get into bed together sooner- but there’s a feeling behind it that makes him feel uneasy.

he thinks if you were any other girl that was begging for him to fuck her and to take her virginity he wouldn’t have thought twice about it- hell he wouldn’t even bother taking her back to his house, he’d find a spot somewhere on the lawn and fuck her there.

but with you it’s different. and he’s quickly realizing that everything about you is different. so he thinks that he should treat you differently.

-

i want to give a very small TW here just in case: reader says to stop during sex- and heeseung does immediately!

-

but it’s still so hard to when you’re ripping off his shirt before you’re even fully inside of his bedroom. you’re smashing your lips against his so messily and your hands are trailing down his toned chest. it turns heeseung on that you’re trying to take the lead and have so much confidence compared to the other times.

heeseung had mentally already prepared himself to bring you back to his house (or to an empty room at the party) to make it up to you for being so late to the party. he did not expect you to instantly drag him back out and make him take you back to his house.

“heeseung, please,” you beg him, feeling frustrated and needy. your foreheads are touching as you look at each other.

“you’re one hundred percent positive you want to do this?”

you feel a bit of doubt rush through your mind at the thought of losing your virginity to heeseung. you always imagined you would have lost it to a boy that you loved- to a boy like jake. but you understand that to get jake to love you back, you would have to do this, “yes, heeseung.”

heeseung doesn’t notice the flash of doubt in your eye and leans in to kiss you again, this time rougher and pushing you back so you’re on his bed. your hips started to move involuntarily against his hips, making him groan against your lips. you could feel the texture of his jeans rubbing against your clit through your panties.

heeseung’s hand slipped down in between your bodies and started to slink off of your panties down your legs. you could feel your bottom half now bare to his bedroom as your dress was bunched up at your hips. heeseung’s hips were still rolling into yours. heeseung’s hands were roaming your outer thighs, keeping them spread so his body could stay in between them.

heeseung pulls away from your lips first and starts to kiss down your neck, easily finding your sweet spot by now, and sucking a harsh bruise into it. you hold back your whine from the pleasure and focus on the task at hand. your hands trail down to heeseung’s crotch, rubbing over the bulge that had formed. when he feels you start to unbuckle his jeans he pulls away from you completely.

“fuck, wait.” heeseung stops and you see that his chest is breathing heavily like your own, “i gotta stretch you out first, i don’t want to hurt you.”

“no no, i’m okay,” you stop him from inching his finger towards your core. he looks up at you confused, “let’s just fuck.” you could tell that heeseung wanted to say something, but he chose not to, deciding to listen to you and shove his pants down his legs.

his cock was hard when it sprung up and it made you realize just how big he was and that he was supposed to shove his big dick into your pussy in a second and you hoped to god it wouldn’t hurt as much as your friends said it would.

heeseung rummages through his bedside drawer until he holds up a crinkly condom package. he stands in between your spread legs again, “do you want to try to put it on?”

you gulp and shake your head no, making heeseung shrug and begin to open the package himself. he slides the condom onto his dick easily, showing that he has a lot more experience than you do, and you try to not shy away at the thought. you try to think of jake and that you were doing this for jake- you were doing this so you can jake could be together.

heeseung places his dick at your entrance, making your body freeze up, “are you sure you want to do this, y/n?” heeseung asks, resisting the urge to bend down and stroke the side of your face with his thumb.

“yes, i’m ready heeseung, god,” you let out in a frustrated tone that you regretted when you saw heeseung’s concerned face drop into something more offended.

heeseung huffs but doesn't say anything as he begins to push into you, watching your face and body. when his tip slides into you he stops, catching the way your face contorted into pain, “do you want me to pull out?” heeseung’s voice is a higher pitch than normal.

you shake your head no, “just keep going, hee.” you don’t look at him as you can only focus on the sheer amount of pain you were feeling as he continued to slowly push himself into you.

you aren’t sure how much farther he slid himself into you until you couldn’t deal with the pain, “ow heeseung! okay i- i can’t.” your hand grabbed onto heeseung’s forearm, wanting to stop him from going any further.

due to your pain, you miss the way heeseung’s eyes fill with pure panic and concern at your words, “shit, y/n.” heeseung instantly pulls out of you, making you hiss with more pain. “fuck, i’m sorry, i’m so so sorry.”

your hands cover your face as you start to feel tears of frustration start to pool in your eyes. there was no way that you could ever live up to jake’s expectations at this point. he would never see you as someone he could love. if earlier in the night where he left you in an instant for isa didn’t make that clear enough to you.

you’re too distracted with trying to cover your tears from heeseung that you don’t notice him fervently rushing around his room, slipping on some sweatpants and finding a sweater for you to wear.

“y/n, here sit up,” you feel heeseung beside you again, his hand finding its way to your lower back to help you sit up on his bed. you can’t bear to look at him because you feel so disappointed in yourself for so many reasons that you can count. “do you want to change into this while i go get you some water?- or do you want to have a bath or a shower- fuck how bad does it hurt?”

“i’m fine, heeseung!” you snap at him, pushing his hand away from you, “fuck, i’m f-fine,” you repeat, this time quieter and you still haven’t looked at him.

“here, just put this on and i’ll go get some water.” heeseung put his sweater in your lap and left his room. he felt like one million thoughts were going through his mind all at once and he couldn’t help but feel guilty for hurting you. it was the last thing he had wanted to do.

when he comes back with a glass of water, he finds you under his blanket with his sweater on, the hood over your head as you lay on your side, facing the doorway. he places the glass of water on the bedside table and smiles softly at your quiet ‘thank you'.

heeseung thinks to himself that he’s never felt this awkward before in his own bedroom.

“are you going to lay down?” you ask him quietly after your eyes met silently a few times.

“do- do you want me to?” heeseung stutters, trying to think of something to do to help the situation. when you nod against his pillow he gently crawls over you so he lays closest to the wall now. you’re still laying on your side as he lays on his back, staring up at his ceiling.

heeseung wasn’t going to lie to himself or to anyone (okay maybe to you) that he hadn’t thought of fucking you before. he figured that you were more on the vanilla side until he had heard you and your friends talking about your virginity. it made something click inside of him- like he saw a different side of you from then on.

kissing you was something he hadn’t expected. it was softer than he imagined, and he liked to smell your perfume as you kissed. and he liked the sounds of you whimpering into your mouth when he takes you by surprise and presses his tongue into your mouth. your reactions to everything he does are so cute that it makes him turned on in a way he’s never felt before.

after your first set of rules had been set, he never figured that you would give him a handjob or anything of the sort- but he wasn’t disappointed when you had. he found it hard to think of anything else since it had happened. every time his hand sneaks down to his crotch late at night. all he can think about is you.

after all the times he had thought about fucking you- he had never expected it to go like that.

he wanted to say so much to you, but he didn’t want to cross any lines with you. he knew that once this deal between you was over, the two of you would go back to hating each other- to swearing at each other in front of anyone- doing anything to insult or embarrass the other. so, he didn’t understand why he cared so much and wanted to hold you.

your silent shaking makes him look over at your slumped forward figure. heeseung was suddenly hyper-aware of your sniffles filling up his bedroom.

“are you okay? i didn’t mean to hurt you, y/n i’m so sorry.”

“i’m fine, heeseung.” you respond, “i’m just disappointed and confused and it makes me sad to feel this way.”

“i’m sorry, i should’ve taken proper care of you i-.” heeseung turns to lean onto his elbow, ready to apologize with his whole heart.

“-you’re fine heeseung.” you cut him off, “it’s just- why does every other girl get to lose her virginity and have sex all the time but i can’t? it seems so easy for everyone except me.”

you hear heeseung sigh and flop down onto his back, “it’s because you like jake and not me. it’s easier to lose your virginity to someone that you actually like- someone that you want to have sex with.” when you don’t respond to him he continues, “i’m sorry, y/n. it’s not just you, i’m sure there are other girls th-.”

“kiss me.”

“w-what?” heeseung stutters again, this time out of pure shock from your words.

“i don’t want to think about it anymore- just kiss me to distract me.” you turn slightly on your back so you can look at heeseung over your shoulder, “please?”

heeseung scans your face and eyes sincerely this time, hoping to catch any sign of doubt- but ultimately finds nothing. he moves over slightly, so he’s leaning over you, his face close to yours. you catch the way he licks his lips, wetting them before he presses his lips to yours.

the kiss is the softest kiss you have ever felt. sure, you haven’t kissed very many people- but you know this one would be the winner for sure. you can almost barely feel heeseung’s lips against yours- but you fully take in the passion you feel from him.

you can’t help but let a few tears out of your eyes as you continue to kiss heeseung. the kiss is something that you need at the moment, and it’s making your heart and head feel ten times lighter than it is. heeseung feels your tears against his own face, and he pulls away slightly from you. both of you are looking into each other’s eyes and you don’t think you’ve ever noticed how pretty his eyes are.

“you shouldn’t have to have sex with someone just because everyone else is- or because you feel like you should.” heeseung’s thumb brushes against the side of your face, caving in to his urges from earlier, and wipes a stray tear off of your cheek, “i’m sorry that it hurt- and i’m sorry if i made you feel like you have to be experienced with stuff like this.”

your brain was still filtered with the alcohol from the party earlier, and your body felt exhausted from everything it had gone through. your mind was practically begging you to go to sleep.

so, you lean up towards heeseung and press your lips into his, hoping that it would suffice and successfully let him know what you were saying without speaking any words.

and heeseung swears he feels his heart skip a beat.

if lee heeseung was upset that you left his house before he woke up the next morning, he didn’t act like it. you expected him to text you or even tease you about ditching him in his own bed- but there was nothing.

in fact, you didn’t even see heeseung until the end of school on monday.

“y/n, your boyfriend is here,” chaehyun giggles out to you from the other side of the classroom. you glance up at her before your eyes wander towards the door.

heeseung is leaning against the door frame with a quirked eyebrow at you, a smirk on his face at chaehyun’s words. you could feel your cheeks burn at the statement and you couldn’t help but feel embarrassed. you start to pack your bag quickly, wanting to get out of the class as soon as possible as you could still hear the last group of friends in the classroom whispering and giggling.

with their hushed giggling, it was then that heeseung noticed isa sitting amongst the girls cradled together against some of the desks. he didn’t know how he could have pinpointed her exact laugh out of everyone else’s, but it succeeded in distracting him enough to glance over and see her looking right back at him.

there was some meaning behind her eyes as she softly smiled at him, his cocky demeanour disappearing the more he looked at her soft features. her friend whispered something in her ear, but she didn’t look away from heeseung, only sending him a wink until he was kicked in the shin.

“ow!” he whisper yells, his pained face meeting your amused one.

“i said, let’s go.” you started to push him out of the classroom, his ears catching isa’s giggle one last time.

both of you continued walking until you ended up in the outdoor classroom. the school had ended twenty minutes ago so there were some students still lingering around the property, but you didn’t pay them any attention from your spot on the bench you had sat on before.

heeseung had offered you some of the water he was drinking which you declined, making both of you sit in silence for a little while longer. it was starting to get colder now, as october had officially started up. the leaves were starting to turn orange- but not to the point where they were wilting off of the tree branches and covering the grass.

“do you have any new ideas about our whole plan, thing?” you ask him finally, because you have thought about it yourself, and haven’t been able to come up with much. everything you had planned before didn’t seem to go as expected.

heeseung leans back against the bench, his legs spread and he lets out a hum that indicates he’s thinking, “i haven’t thought about much, but halloween is coming up we’ll have to think of something big for that night.”

“halloween?�� you ask with a tone of surprise, “like in almost a month? you want this to go on for another whole month?”

“well, i mean, we can’t seem like everything we’re doing is so forced, right?”

you groan and put your hands to your face, and it makes heeseung worry for a second that you're about to start crying again.

“what’s so wrong with going on for another month?” he asks you, wanting to reach out and place his hand on your back, but he keeps it glued to his thigh.

“because, hee,” you look at him, and he counts it as ‘four times now’ that you’ve called him by his nickname, “i want to date jake, not you.” you shake your head and miss the way heeseung rolls his eyes.

“well, sorry that i can’t make this go any faster.” heeseung replies, crossing his arms over his chest.

you’re about to speak again but a now familiar giggle cuts you off. both yours and heeseung’s eyes widen and you’re jumping up and going to the side rail of the outdoor classroom. you’re both trying to stay hidden as you look over to who was walking on the sidewalk below.

sure enough, isa is walking there as you had thought. but only jake was with her.

heeseung and you glance at each other when jake becomes visible to the both of you, and you go back to watching them.

jake sticks out his hand for isa to take, and he spins her around with it, making her giggle harder and tell him to quit being cheesy. you felt like you could throw up if you wanted to at her now annoying voice.

throughout your and heeseung’s plan, you couldn’t help but find the nice girl that you once called an acquaintance annoying. everything she did made your anger rise- and you haven’t spoken to her since the day you had pushed heeseung into her. maybe you were jealous of her because she had the attention of both of the guys you were closest to, but you didn’t want to admit that.

“are you hungry?” you can hear jake ask her as they now stand right below you and heeseung hiding.

“yes, i’m starving.” isa exaggerates and you notice heeseung moving more so he can see her more.

“what do you want to go eat?”

you can hear isa hum as she thinks, and heeseung nudges you to look, they’re still holding the hand that jake twirled her with and it makes you roll your eyes, “how about mcdonalds?”

“if that’s what you want.”

“that’s what i want.” isa confirms and you can hear shuffling and giggling again.

“okay, they’re far away now,” heeseung says in a normal tone, you move so you’re beside heeseung in the open view- if anyone were to look up at the outdoor classroom they could see you and your ‘boyfriend’ no doubt. you can see jake and isa swinging their clasped hands as they leave down the school’s side driveway- towards the street where they were most likely going to get mcdonalds, “i have to go to practice now.”

heeseung stands up and dusts off the knees of his pants. you stand up after him and swing your backpack onto your shoulder. “we can talk more about this tomorrow if you want, i don’t have practice.”

you nod and watch im walk back to the bench where his jacket and bag were, “and why did you post that picture of me on your instagram?” (reference to updated profiles) you were annoyed this morning when you walked into the cafeteria with ryujin and choerry shoving their stupid phones in your face of heeseung’s stupid instagram.

heeseung shrugs as he starts to put his jacket into his bag, “why did i lose like twenty followers after posting it?”

“you lost followers?” you exclaim, “it’s probably all the girls that followed you to drool over you.”

heeseung smiles to himself as he slings his backpack over his shoulder, “if that’s what you think- i thought it was because you were too ugly.”

you gasp and slap his shoulder, making him laugh, “if i’m so ugly then why did you post it?”

heeseung shrugs again, “i guess it’s a cute picture,” you squint your eyes at him in unsureness, “and because if people think we’re dating we should probably act like we are.” now that was something you could understand as to why he would post it, “maybe you,” heeseung pokes your nose with his finger, “should post a picture of me too, so more people believe it.”

“i’ll think about it- i don’t know if i really want lee heeseung all over my account.” you make heeseung laugh again and he clasps his hand over your head, messing up your hair roughly.

“i’ll see you tomorrow, y/n.” he starts to walk backwards toward the door, “make sure to pick out a good pic!” he winks at you before he’s out of your sight and the closed door is the only thing you’re staring at.

you grab a tighter hold onto your backpack as you curse lee heeseung yet again, and push open the door so you can leave as well. on your way home, you mentally pick out a picture that would seem allowable to post on your instagram.

you just prayed that no one would tease you about it.

you felt as if things between you and heeseung had changed after the weekend.

there are unspoken emotions that are creating an emotional and physical distance between you two. every time you had seen heeseung after the weekend (which was not a lot) it felt off. even during your almost silent conversation in the outdoor classroom on monday, it felt as if heeseung was forcing himself to talk and to put on a facade around you.

part of you wondered if heeseung was having second thoughts about your whole plan. he had said so himself that he had no more ideas on how to progress your relationships with isa and jake until at least halloween.

you had figured that this would take some time for jake to realize he has feelings for you- but not this long. and you would have never imagined that lee heeseung would be beside you for the majority of it.

you could not even start to count how many times you swore you hated lee heeseung. but then you started to get to know more about him, and you got to know the way he tasted on your lips, and how his warm body felt against yours. you even noticed how caring he could be towards someone. and now, it’s awkward between you two and you can’t help but wish it wasn’t. you wish heeseung would come up and mess up your hair, or shove your shoulders in the hall, or point out a stupid mistake you did.

heeseung had texted you that he wouldn’t be able to hang out the day he said he would- and rearranged to see you on the weekend when someone would be having a party. you suspected that jake would also be in the future unknown party heeseung was referring to and it kind of gave you something good to think of during the week. it helped distract you from the sinking feeling in your chest you got every time you passed heeseung in the halls- or even just thought about him.

your friends were also no help at all, always asking if you and heeseung were still dating, or fighting, or just trying to prank them and get them to believe you were even dating in the first place. you would just shrug them off every time, hoping that the conversation would lead somewhere else. their questions and ideas only fuelled your upset mind more. you were so confused about why there was some unspoken tension between you and heeseung that neither of you was seemingly willing to talk about.

by the end of the week with not even a word spoken to each other since monday, you were upset. and you couldn’t believe that you were and were allowing yourself to be upset over lee heeseung.

he was someone that had become a big part of your life so suddenly, someone that you shared a secret with that no one else knew about. and now it seemed like it had all just stopped so abruptly. it was filling your mind and it was all you could think about.

even in gym class when you should’ve been paying attention to the basketball game in front of you, you found yourself staring off into nothing and thinking about what had gone so wrong that you and heeseung were now avoiding each other- and what would happen at this party you were both knowingly going to?

your distracting thoughts of heeseung were what made you completely miss the in-game basketball being thrown right into your direction- being missed by the player that was supposed to catch it- and smack right into your head.

in front of your whole entire gym class, you were thrown off of the corner of the bench you were sitting on, and down onto the floor, hitting your head off of the gym floor as well. before you could realize what was happening, there were your peer students standing all around you on the floor and asking if you were okay. your teacher barged through them and quickly analyzed you, seeing if you were bleeding from anywhere.

though there was no visible blood leaking from your head, you couldn’t ignore the aching of it from both sides from where the ball hit you, and from where you hit it off of the ground, your teacher still sent you to the nurse's office. thankfully, all the nurses were nice, and none of them made fun of you or made you worry more in any way. when the main nurse left you alone to rest for a bit before she could send you home, you sighed in relief and laid back down on the hospital bed she had set you in.

you must have not been laying there long until you heard the door of the room you were in being whipped open and a stamper of feet rushing inside right after. you open your eyes to find a big-eyed concerned heeseung looking at you, scanning your body for any injuries or bandages.

“heeseung?” you call his name in a confused state, sleep almost taking over you until he comes in.

“yes, it’s me.” heeseung walked right over to your bed, looking down at you, “are you okay?”

“yeah, ‘m fine,” you nod, sitting up so your upper body is resting on your elbows, “what are you doing here?”

heeseung scoffs, “well when a whole group of kids come up to me and tell me that my girlfriend has been sent to the nurse's station from what was probably one of the worst concussion-induced accidents they’ve seen- of course, i’m going to come here!”

this time you scoff, and you relax your elbows so your body rests completely down on the bed now.

“what was that scoff for?” heeseung asks, your hand comes up to rest on your forehead, a harsh ache hurting your entire head.

“nothing heeseung,” you tell him, closing your eyes from the brightness of the room and the sudden awakening.

“no, you scoffed for a rea-”

“-heeseung,” you cut him off, “can you get the nurse for me? i just want to go home.”

you don’t open your eyes to look at him, only listening as he stands there for a moment longer, probably in disbelief from your words before he’s leaving your room and getting the nurse for you.

the nurse was really happy when she saw heeseung and let you go home earlier since he would be there to help you. she made him promise to wake you up every hour just in case you had an undetected concussion. and even when you had left the nurses station and told heeseung you would be fine to get home by yourself, he insisted on walking with you.

the walk itself didn’t seem too awkward. your head is hurting and you’re tired and heeseung and you kept a safe distance away from each other as you walked. every now and then you could hear heeseung humming a song to himself as you walked.

you wanted to ask heeseung why he was suddenly caring so much for you when he didn’t even acknowledge you throughout the week in the halls- or text you at least. though, you knew he would ask you the same questions. to which you wouldn’t know how to answer besides blaming it all on him for acting weird and distant first.

you guess that you are angry.

and frustrated and confused- and if lee heeseung’s emotions switched this fast then you couldn’t keep up with it. it annoyed you that he ignored you all week- just to show up at the nurse's station ready to drop everything for you.

when you finally get to your house, you start saying bye to heeseung, just wanting to go to bed before your parents get home in a few hours.

“what are you doing?” you ask him as he follows you up your porch to your front door.

heeseung gives you a confused expression, “what do you mean? i promised the nurse to wake you up every hour to make sure your head is okay.”

“heeseung, i’m fine okay? just go back to school.” you shake your head at him, turning to unlock your door so you can go inside.

“yeah yeah, you’re always apparently fine- but i think this time i should really make sure you’re actually fine, o-?”

“what do you mean ‘apparently fine’? when i say i’m fine i mean it-” you snap and turn to look at the tall boy, “i don’t need you to check up on me, especially not after you avoided me all week.”

heeseung looked taken aback at your outburst, “right- you’re fine. but i still think i should come in and help you lay down- or stay until your parents g-.”

“no, heeseung,” you step inside your house, your hand resting on the door handle inside, “i don’t need you coming inside and pretending as you care about me- we only need to pretend to date in front of everyone else, not with each other.” you see heeseung about to open his mouth to speak, “just go back to school, heeseung.”

you harshly close the door in his face, leaving him standing on your porch alone in the middle of the day. heeseung kicks his foot against the pole at the end of your driveway as he walks past it, leaving your house, angrier than he’s been in a long time- and it’s mainly at himself.

heeseung was nervous. and he liked to believe that he never got nervous- especially about parties and girls. but something about the party tonight, and whether or not you were going to show up made him undeniably nervous and it was killing him that he couldn’t control it.

heeseung hasn’t spoken to you since he dropped you off at your house yesterday and slammed the door in his face. he knew from what you said that you were onto him. you knew that he was avoiding you and he knew that you were upset about it. he wanted to tell you that you weren’t the only one upset about it.

honestly, heeseung felt like he had to create some distance between you and him. ever since the night where he almost took your virginity, he’s had a hard time thinking about anyone or anything else.

he was disappointed when he woke up the next morning to an empty bed, your clothes gone, and the hoodie he had let you wear was thrown onto his desk. at first, he didn’t understand why he felt upset that you had snuck out before he woke up, but he realized soon enough it was because of an underlying feeling he didn’t dare speak or think about.

heeseung has been wondering if he has had the underlying feeling for you for the entire time he has known you- and that it only started to affect him now because he was spending more time with you- and often those times were intimate. he thinks (or hopes) that it’s all just a part of his hormonal teenage brain that makes him only think he has feelings for you.

but he still can’t help but get annoyed when you bring up jake- and the fact that you’re basically in love with him.

heeseung knows that parties are where your friends like to hang out. it’s where they all feel at peace with themselves and have fun. so he knows jake and isa will be here tonight. but he wonders if you’ll show up. he’s noticed pretty early on into your hateship that you’re not a party person, yet you still show up for your friends and jake. he also knows that you’re absolutely pissed at him and are losing hope in getting jake to like you back. so he figures that there’s about a 30/70 chance that you will show up.

he hopes that his made-up 30 percent chance is true and that you’ll come right up to him and ask what the plan is tonight. he even thinks that if you come up to him and just slap his bicep like you usually do will be sufficient enough for him to at least be able to see you.

heeseung knows sunghoon and jay are around this house party somewhere. he saw sunghoon dancing with some girls earlier, and jay was against a wall with choerry not too long ago. but he couldn’t be bothered to find them at a time like this. he didn’t feel like himself, and he knew his friends would be able to catch on in no time.

he hasn’t seen jake tonight, and he wonders if he’s with isa somewhere. maybe he’s taking her out on a proper date, and holding her hand and saying things heeseung has only imagined himself saying to her. he realizes then that he doesn’t care what jake says to isa- but he knows he should. he used to care at least.

“boo!” a false deep voice exclaims from behind him and grabs a tight hold of his arm.

“jesus!” he turns around with a scowl, ready to reprimand the person who just tried to scare him. his scowl fades when he sees isa.

“what’re you thinking about so deeply?” isa starts a conversation, her pretty smile on her face as she looks up at him.

“nothing much,” heeseung shrugs and takes a sip of his drink, immediately wishing he was drunker.

“really? nothing much?” isa quirks her eyebrow, “if it’s nothing then why does it have you zoning out at a party?”

“that’s a good point.”

“you should have fun tonight, heeseung!” she grips his arms, shaking him gently.

“i know, i know.”

isa lets one of her hands drop from his bicep while the other one snakes its way up to his shoulder, where it plays with the hem of his shirt, “i think you need a distraction.”

“that’s what this is for.” heeseung holds up his cup and brings it to his mouth, where he downs the entirety of it left.

isa smiles at him, “but it doesn’t seem to be working does it?”

at this point, isa is pressing her whole body against his, and heeseung is struggling to think of anything else except for how warm and small she is compared to him, “i guess not.”

“can i try?” isa pouts up at him, and he wants to know how her lips feel against his- and a small part of him wonders if they’ll feel even remotely close to how good yours feel.

“try what?”

“to distract you.”

heeseung thought he was dreaming. he had thought about isa in a scenario like this countless times. yet, this wasn’t a fantasy of his it was real life and he now he was standing there looking like an idiot in front of her.

“uh-, yeah, sure,” he stutters out and he’s glad the music is loud so no one else could hear what he and isa are talking about. he still hears isa’s soft giggle before she’s wrapping her arms around his shoulders, pulling his head down so it’s close to hers.

they look into each other’s eyes for a second, as if to think about what they’re about to do before they’re both closed and their lips are touching. heeseung’s thoughts about how soft her lips would be are correct, and her perfume smells just as nice as he thought it would. but it feels off in a way he didn’t imagine.

“do you need some more distractions, hee?” she whispers, her lips barely brushing against his as they stay close together. heeseung thinks about it for a moment, and he knows his past self is kicking him in the ass for taking so long to her answer her very direct question. so he thinks he nods not for himself, but for everyone else that would be encouraging him to get on with it with the girl he’s been thinking about for years.

isa smiles at his curt nod, and in a second she unwrapped her arms around him and instead wraps her hand around his wrist so she can pull him through the house. heeseung assumes isa must have been to this house before with her confidence walking around, going straight to a bathroom that was down an extra almost hidden hall. the music of the house is barely there when she closes the door after herself.

before heeseung can even properly lean against the bathroom counter, isa is pushing herself against him again. their lips meet in a frenzy and it takes heeseung a second to be able to kiss her back. her hands are pulling tight on the hair on the back of his neck. heeseung starts to pull her closer to him as well, his hands gripping her waist so their hips can press together. he feels isa smile against his lips, and he knows she feels his hard-on through their pants.

“i wanna make you feel good, heeseung,” isa says with her voice full of lust. “are you gonna let me distract you some more?”

“fuck, isa,” heeseung licks his lips as he stares down into her eyes, “please.” isa smirks at his subtle begging and she drops down to her knees to unbuckle his pants. she pushes them and his boxer down to his ankles so his semi-hard dick is now available for them to look at. her hands grab the base of it quickly, placing soft kisses up the shaft, “fuck,”.

isa takes the tip of his cock into her mouth and sinks down as far as she can go before gagging. she quickly starts a steady pace and it makes heeseung roll his eyes into the back of his head. it’s warm and wet and easy to fall into the pleasure of it all. he feels and hears her moan against his dick, and it makes him open his eyes and look down at her.

and it shocks him to only find your eyes looking back at him.

“what the fuck,” heeseung lets out in surprise, his hands gripping tighter onto the counter behind him to steady himself.

“what?” isa pulls off his dick and looks up at him in confusion and slight offence. heeseung takes a hard gulp when he only sees isa again, and he mentally hits himself for being so weird.

“nothing, nothing, it just feels so good,” heeseung only partially lies, and he knows isa believes it when she smiles up at him gracefully and goes back to sticking his cock in her mouth happily.

heeseung tells himself to just focus on the pleasure, to not screw up this night even more, but now he finds it hard to when he’s questioning himself on why he saw you looking up at him. it can’t help but imagine what it would feel like to have his dick in your mouth specifically. he starts to imagine that he would have to go slow with you, have to deal with your teasing and annoying smirks he’s grown to think are cute.

he’d want to hear your gags and whimpers with his dick lodged into your mouth. he wonders if your eyes would swell with tears easily, and he imagines wiping off your makeup that would be smudged afterwards. he feels himself grow harder at the thought of you, and it makes him jerk his hips forwards, making isa gag for a second, but she keeps up her pace.

heeseung is disappointed when he looks down to find isa on the floor in front of him instead of you. and he can’t believe what he’s feeling. he would have never thought that he’d rather you want to make him feel good instead of isa. but he does, and now you’re all he can think about which makes him feel guilty.

heeseung’s hands cover his face as he scrunches up in frustration with himself and the situation, “fuck,” he lets out a groan, not believing what he’s about to do.

“are you okay?” isa’s voice sounds strained as she pulls away from his dick, noticing his scrunched eyebrows through his hands.

“yeah, yeah,” heeseung says and he looks down at her with no expression, “let’s just stop.”

“stop?” isa sits back on her knees, which gives heeseung room to bend down to pull back up his boxers and jeans, “did i do something?”

“no!” heeseung shakes his head instantly, and reaches forward to help isa up off the ground, “i just,”

isa takes her hand out of his, “you just what?”

heeseung feels more guilty now from her angry expression, “i just can’t do this- with you. i need to go.”

“what the fuck, heeseung?” isa watches him start to walk backwards to the door, opening it from behind.

“i’m so sorry, fuck i’m sorry isa, i just- i gotta go.” heeseung cringes at his words as he says them, turning into the hallway and walking through the house at a fast pace. he keeps calling himself a fucking idiot as he walks, cursing himself and you for what just happened.

“heeseung, bro!” he hears someone call him but he ignores it and keeps walking, almost to the front door at this point, “hee!” a hand wraps around his arm, forcing him to stop. heeseung almost groans in frustration when he sees jake in front of him, “where the hell are you going in such a rush?”

“what? i’m not rushing, i just- i want to go home.”

“oh,” jake looks confused, “you don’t want to stay for a bit longer, i just got here and we haven’t hung out in a while.” heeseung wonders if the world just hates him at this point.

“no, man, i gotta go home.”

jake looks disappointed at heeseung and it makes him feel bad for leaving his best friend- or who once was his best friend, “well, do you know where anyone is?”

“uh, i saw sunghoon in the living room a while ago, he’s probably still there.” jake nods in response, and heeseung turns to leave.

“hee,” jake calls him again, heeseung looks back at him again, “are you okay?”

“yeah! i’m fine! just wanna go home.” heeseung forces a smile on his face, praying to god jake would believe him.

“okay, man, see ya.” jake nods a goodbye at him, and heeseung smiles softer in response.

heeseung finally leaves the godforsaken party, not looking back the entire walk home, just replaying the night's events over and over in his head. he checks his phone for the first time when he steps into his bedroom, seeing a couple texts from jay and instagram notifications- but nothing from you like he would’ve hoped.

heeseung crawls into his bed, wearing about the hoodie that he had given you to wear a week ago. he tries to smell your perfume or shampoo on it, but only smells the cologne that he hates. his dick is still hard, and it twitches in his sweatpants and it makes him groan. he wishes you were in his bedroom with him, laying in his bed as you’ve done before. he tries to resist his stupid teenage boy urges but gives in by slipping his hand into his sweat pants.

heeseung rubs his thumb over his slit, almost hissing out from how sensitive he is from isa’s mouth earlier. his precum is dripping out and it makes it easier for his hand to start to glide up and down his dick.

he starts to imagine you on your knees for him again, your mouth surrounding his dick and letting him fuck into your mouth. his hips start to fuck into his hand, imagining it was your warm and wet mouth.

heeseung’s teeth are clenched tightly together as he only thinks of you.

he thinks about you moaning his name and asking him to cum for you. the thought of you wanting to make him feel good drives him crazy and makes his hips jerk up faster into his fist. he thinks you’d let him do anything to you- teach you anything because you’re so eager to learn.

the final thought of you wanting to swallow his cum sends him over the edge, and he immediately thinks it's the best orgasm he’s ever given himself- and it’s because of you. his muscles are tense, and his vision goes blank as his eyes close tight.

his chest is heaving out of breath as his hand and thighs are covered in his warm cum- he wishes you were there to lick him clean.

heeseung’s questioned his self-awareness for a while- but now he knows his self-awareness is up to par with the way he’s so conscious of the fact that he has fucked up and he has fucked up bad. he hopes that he’ll wake up in the morning, and you’ll be beside him in bed, sneaking in as quietly just as you had sneaked out.

heeseung’s self-awareness allows him to know what these thoughts mean- that he only wants you, and he has, for a long time.

@ taeghi, 2022. do not repost or reuse in anyway.

PLEASE REBLOG IF YOU ENJOY, AS LIKES MAKE IT HARD FOR WORK TO BE SPREAD AND ENJOYED BY OTHERS

stay safe everyone :) i hope you enjoy the next and final part !

#this was so good oh my days #can’t wait to read the final part when it’s out <3 #unfortunate desire #taeghi #lee heeseung #bambi

[sleepingrenjun]

a lee heeseung series - 𝐮𝐧𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐮𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐫𝐞

[ their profiles ] (updated profiles) | [a playlist]

PAIRING ▸ lee heeseung x fem bodied!reader

SUMMARY ▸ realizing that jake won't fall in love with you after overhearing he's only into experienced girls is something that you thought would crush your chances for good- thankfully, heeseung is up to teach you a few things, even if he does hate you.

WORD COUNT ▸ tbd (32,000 so far)

GENRE ▸ enemies 2 lovers, angst, SMUT ; handjobs, blowjobs, fingering, protected and unprotected sex, choking, biting, etc lol

TAGLIST ?? (lmk if u wanna tagged for this lol)

[part 𝘖𝘕𝘌] release date : sunday, june 26th 2022 @ 10pm EST

summary ▸ realizing that jake won't fall in love with you after overhearing he's only into experienced girls is something that you thought would crush your chances for good- thankfully, heeseung is up to teach you a few things, even if he does hate you.

word count ▸ 9,800

[part 𝘛𝘞𝘖] release date : sunday, july 3rd 2022 @ 10pm EST

summary ▸ getting isa and jake to fall in love with you and heeseung is harder than it seems to be- especially now when the whole school thinks you two are dating.

word count ▸ 11,264

[part 𝘛𝘏𝘙𝘌𝘌] release date : sunday, july 17th, 2022 @ 10:30 pm est

summary ▸ heeseung makes progress towards isa becoming his girlfriend- until he doesn't and you wonder if he made it backfire on purpose.

word count ▸ 10,956

[part FOUR] release date : tbd

summary ▸ tbd

word count ▸ TBD

#reblogging the series masterlist bc I’ve read all 3 parts and you should too #I’m v excited for part 4 <33 #this series has me in a chokehold and i don’t even bias heeseung 😭 #the tension >>> #unfortunate desire #taeghi #lee heeseung #bambi

[sleepingrenjun]

park sunghoon : the boy next door trope

"are you okay, y/n?" "yep, 'm just fine." "don't lie, i know you're finding it hard to not picture me shirtless."

pairing : shy, figure skater!sunghoon x popular extravert!reader

summary : park sunghoon, the quiet figure skater from school has moved into the house right next door to your own. you never really paid attention to how cute he was until he starts walking around his room shirtless, knowing that your windows were adjacent to one another.

word count: 26,500 (hehe)

includes smut - minors DNI

this is pure fiction, characters included are all the same age (18).

read the other volumes?

🤎

taglist : @srirachibi @ryu-naa @blank-velvet @hoonstrology@person-standing @yuakagi @moasworld@rein-deer-stuffs @lix-freckle3 @leeis @turnipsandflowerss @hoewithnojams@liliansun @melaninjhs @sunshine-skz @andromedawillburryyou@shynypeacekitten @violevantae @rpkth @hime98 @fvryang @j4yluvr @heelariously @fireflies997 @rikipediaa @manaswisingh @pshwyfie @rikithebest@as-she-pleases @hoon3luv @valhoez @tlnyjoong @duolingofanaccount @misavenue @en-boyz @rikithebest (sorry if i forgot anyone lololol)

authors tmi : i listened to sunsetz by cigarettes after sex repeatedly while writing this

park sunghoon was stubborn and cocky, but oh so hot.

still to this day, you aren't sure if you regret meeting him or not- you aren't even sure how you managed to get wrapped up around him- but you curse the house next door.

if it weren't for it- park sunghoon and you would've continued on your separate paths in life- with no need to intertwine them.

the first time you had seen park sunghoon was during the beginning of year 9. he tall and slim and dorky. he was quiet, shy and he sat in the back of the class. he always seemed too aware of himself, obessing over the way his hair looked, and if his clothes were out of place.

needless to say, you didn't pay much attention to him during your first year of high school.

you had been swept up into the popular crowd early into your high school career. you weren't on any of the sports teams at your school nor were you neccessarily considered the prettiest girl in school, but you were nice and you loved to party.

you personally think that you started to grow into your features during your second year of high school. you became more confident with not only your personality, but your looks and appearance as well. that was also around the time that boys started to really look at you. you started to play around with a few guys at your school- building up your confidence even more.

year 10 of high school also brought on the insane increase of popularity to park sunghoon.

over the summer from year 9 to year 10, sunghoon had grown even taller. his dorky features had transitioned into a sharp, more defined structure. he started hanging out with the popular jocks at your school, seemingly to fit right in with them.

park sunghoon had become hot- and anyone who didn't agree was deemed as blind.

though, he was still just as shy as he was during your first year of high school. his shoulders had broadened but his choice of friends had not.

"who the hell is that?" chaehyun asked from beside, flipping her pink hair over her shoulder as she stared down into the hallway.

dayeon and you turned your heads to where she was looking- park sunghoon stood against the lockers, smiling as he listened to his friends joke around and shove each other.

"that's park sunghoon!" dayeon nudged chaehyun with a shake of her head, "we had math with him last year!"

"that's park sunghoon?" chaehyun's jaw dropped as she looked between you and the newly-attractive-boy down the hall. "what the hell happened to him?"

"figure skating's really paid off for him." dayeon shrugged leaning back against her own locker.

you hadn't been able to take your eyes off of him. his pale skin contrasted so prettily against the ugly blue of the lockers behind him. he seemed to never speak a word while he was surrounded with his friends, only a lazy smile or laugh would escape him.

"god, do you know how many girls are gonna want him this year?" chaehyun scoffed, leaning her head on dayeon's shoulder, "a lot compared to last year."

"do you think he's still a virgin?" dayeon asked, making you and chaehyun look at her.

"no way." chaehyun scoffed, shaking her head, "look at him!"

"i don't know, chae." you said, a smirk creeping onto your face as you turned back to park sunghoon. the thoughts of taking the quiet, good boy's virignity creeping into your mind, "he does seem to still have that 'pure' look about him, no?"

dayeon and chaehyun tilt their heads as they look at the boy down the hall, "no," they say at the same time.

"there is just no way a guy that hot is a virgin!" chaehyun insists.

the bell rings and the hall starts to scatter with voices and sutdents as they prepare for their next class to start. park sunghoon disappears into the crowd of them all.

"why don't you go ask him, then?" you tease chaehyun, your eyebrows wiggling on your forehead.

"you're crazy!" she exclaimed, nudging you with her shoulder.

"oh, she's definitely crazy if she thinks park sunghoon is still a virgin." dayeon chimed in, squeezing her way inbetween you two as you walked to your class.

"i am not! he's just too," you pause and think about your memory of him sitting in the back of your classes last year, "quiet, and passive."

you hear chaehyun and dayeon scoff behind, pushing past you to continue walking to their classes, shaking their heads at you.

-

by year 11 the whole school had deemed sunghoon as a virgin.

it took six months for chaehyun and dayeon to cave in and agree with you, and the rest of the school that perhaps sunghoon was a virgin afterall. a hot virgin.

you had seen sunghoon at some of the parties you attended on the weekends. he'd be nursing a red solo cup that he barely took a sip out of and leaned back against the walls, smirking every now and then at something one of his idiotic friends would say.

sunghoon had begun hanging out with the schools athletes some time the year before, becoming attatched at the hip with them like the rest of them were with each other.

you and your friends sat in the bleachers of their games, with sunghoon always sitting no too far away from you, having the most bored expression on his face at every game.

no one was really surprised when sunghoon started hanging out with the rest of them- he was an athelete himself- and his physical attractiveness fit in with them all.

it was his personality and overall demeanor that set him apart from them all- if their interests in sports weren't shared then there seemed to be nothing else in common between them and sunghoon.

he was the introvert in the extroverted friend group of boys.

you don't remember much of sunghoon from your year 11, only that you had tried to start a conversation with him once at a party, but gave up after a minute after his bored expression stared down at you in silence, only receiving a slight nod at your greeting.

you remember hearing a challenge going around among the girls in your school as to who could be the one to take park sunghoon's virginity.

it wasn't a secret that the rest of his friend group slept around- always leaving parties with a new girl- or hitting up a new girl every week. they were big flirts- but sunghoon was not.

or so it seemed.

"oh my god!" dayeon gasped out as she plopped herself onto the chair in front of you and chaehyun in the cafeteria. "did you guys hear about xiaoting and not tell me?"

chaehyun and you glanced at each other in confusion, "what are you talking about? we haven't heard anything about xiaoting." chaehyun shrugged at dayeon.

"oh my god!" dayeon gasped louder and reached across the table to pull you two closer to her, "xiaoting took park sunghoon's virignity." chaehyun and you copied the gasp that dayeon had done seconds before.

"xiaoting and sunghoon?" chaehyun repeated back, trying to make sure that she had heard her friend correctly.

"yes! can you believe it?" dayeon nodded, pushing you two back to your seats. "shen xiaoting took park sunghoon's virignity."

it wasn't really a shock that xiaoting and sunghoon would hook up.

shen xiaoting was the prettiest girl in your school and everyone knew it- including herself. she was the captain of the dance and cheerleading teams. she was slim, tall, had big doe eyes and every other characteristic that society deemed as the beauty standard.

you thought back and tried to remember if you had ever seen xiaoting and sunghoon together in the hallways, or in class or at a party- but your mind came up blank.

"what?" a voice chuckled out from beside your table. "who and who?"

the three of you turned and looked at park jay who stood at the side of your table, his hands coming forward to rest on the table so that his body leaned over.

park jay was best friends with sunghoon. he was the one who had introduced sunghoon to the rest of the friend group that they were in together. he was almost every sports team at the school, depending on a scholarship to get himself into a good college.

at that point, you had spoke to jay a few times at some parties, always taking shots together and flirting until you pushed him away for the night, teasing him that next time you'd get to be together with him.

"xiaoting and sunghoon." you shrugged out, taking a sip of your drink.

jay looked down at you, quirking his eyebrow up at the mention of his best friend- confirming that he had heard them right after all as he walked pass them. "you think shen xiaoting took sunghoon's virginity?" jay almost laughed out, holding back for the sake of his friends' diginity.

"yeah," you nodded up at him, "that's what we heard at least."

"is it true?" dayeon jumped in, a bit too excited sounding.

jay chuckled deeply as he stood up straight again, "no way." jay looked back at his friends' table breifly, "sunghoon wouldn't go for her."

"so, he's a virgin still?" chaehyun titled her head in confusion.

jay laughed at the certain word that seemed to be constantly floating around at your table, but only shrugged with a cocky grin.

"oh c'mon, what does that mean?" dayeon whined out, her lips jutting out.

"i don't know." jay shrugged again, his shoulders coming up to his ears with a cheesy grin on his face. "i'll see you guys around."

"jay! ugh." chaehyun groaned out, being dismissed by him as he waved his fingers teasingly at her, winking at you in the process.

you watched as jay sat down with his friends, swatting jake's head as he sat down beside him, making jake glare at him. he quickly joined in the conversation with his friends as your eyes travelled over the boys- your eyes stopping over a pair that was looking right back at you.

park sunghoon sat back in his chair, scanning your face almost lazily from across the cafeteria. his black hair had grown out long that year, his bangs draping over his forehead and landing in his eyes. he rolled a red apple lazily in his hands until the stem popped off into his fingers.

you felt your heartbeat pick up as he bit into the apple, his eyes only leaving your own then as he turned his attention back to his friends, his jaw flexing everytime he chewed the piece in his mouth.

"what did they want?" heeseung asked jay, nodding his head towards your table.

jay grabbed jungwon's drink and put it to his lips, blocking out the whines of jungwon telling him not to and shrugged, "wanted to know if xiaoting and sunghoon fucked."

"what?" jake laughed out, leaning over to look at sunghoon with amused eyes. "shen xiaoting, bro?"

jay put down jungwon's drink as he swallowed the liquid. jungwon quickly swept up his drink before jay could have anymore. "yeah, specifically that she took his virginity." jay smirked at his friends.

"bro!" jake called out again, his eyes widening more.

sunghoon only shook his head, taking another bite of his apple.

"what? you didn't hook up with her?" jake whined, his shoulders dropping.

sunghoon gave his friend an annoyed look, "you guys know i don't want to hook up with anyone that any of you have hooked up with." sunghoon rolled his eyes, "i'm not into sloppy seconds, or thirds, or fourths."

his friends all laughed at his reasoning, having heard him explain himself one million times before.

"well, if you want to hook up with anyone at this school then. you better hurry up and find a girl, because at this point there's only a few girls left." heeseung joked, winking at his friend.

sunghoon could only roll his eyes, before they landed on you again.

you had turnred your own attention back to your friends after he had looked away. realizing that you probably look like a creep to anyone who had watched you practically stare down park sunghoon.

"huh, y/n?" chaehyun nudged you from the side.

"what?" you asked, not realizing that she had spoken to you.

chaehyun rolled her eyes, "i said jay has the hots for you." she wiggled her eyebrows at the mention of the boy.

"oh, god." you chuckled out with a shake of your head.

"what?" dayeon leaned in close to you, "don't act like you don't flirt with him at every party!"

"it's not every party," you defened yourself, "plus, he's not my type."

"oh, no?" chaehyun cocked her head to the side, "what's your type then."

your thoughts filled of sunghoon's rose lips covering the red skin of the apple as he bit into it, his tongue darting out over them to collect the fallen juices of the fruit-

"virgins."

it was two weeks before your senior year of high school started that the nice old lady next door sold her house. you had lived in your family's house all your life, and grew up with the lady next door always offering you muffins or cookies that she had baked. you were sad when her house had sold so quickly in the summer.

you wondered who would move in beside you. theorizing that another old lady would move in so your addiction to home made blueberry muffins would continue on. you wondered about the idea of a newly wed couple moving in, ready to start to life together.

there had been so many engrossing ideas in your head about who your future neighbours could be.

and park sunghoon was NOT one of them.

being woken up by moving trucks, banging and yelling during the end of summer was not something you desired. your family had already been awake for hours at the time, sleepily you joined them outside on your porch to see who was moving in.

a pretty woman was stood on their porch, explaining to some movers where some boxes to go. a man who was carrying a box from the truck smiled at her and whispered something in her ear, which made the stressed frown on her face desperse into a lazy smile.

you figured your theory of newly weds moving was correct- until a little girl ran through the woman's legs, down the porch steps and giggling as the woman told her to stop running around while people were working.

you watched her run down the driveway, ignoring the woman's words and running right up to the ginat moving truck that had backed up onto the end of their drive way.

"pass me a box! i wanna help!" the girl shouted with a pout into the open end of the truck. she only smiled again when someone placed a small cardboard box into her hands.

your eyes followed the pair of arms that had leant down and gave the little girl the box. he had pale skin and black, longer hair that covered his face as he turned around and picked up a box for himself to carry. he was slim and tall and somewhat familiar that you couldn't seem to narrow it down too until he jumped down from the truck and his long bangs brushed back.

you felt your exterior go slack at the realization that park sunghoon was now your next door neighbour.

"oh hello!" a cheery voice called out to your family all stood on the porch.

"hi!" your mother greeted back. the pretty, stressed woman from before was leaning over their porch railing and smiling at you all.

"kwangho! come here!" she called into the house. "it's so nice to meet you, i'm park jiyoung!" the little girl from before ran and latched onto jiyoung's hip, "this is yewon, my daughter."

you could barely fake a smile to the nice woman and the cute girl, too focused on the way park sunghoon was coming closer to your house, his eyes never leaving yours once his mother had called out to your family. a faint smirk rested on his rosey lips and a light sheen of sweat covered his foreheard from the mid-day, summer sun.

sunghoon set down the box he was carrying on the porch steps, turning and facing your family with a smile as if he wasn't just intimidating you seconds before. "this is my son, sunghoon, and my husband kwangho is still inside! kwangho!" she called out to him again.

"it's so very nice to meet you all!" your mother's cheery voice exclaimed, "this is my family!" your mother introduced your younger brother, your father, herself and you.

you continued to be as polite as you could to your new next door neighbours, but the way sunghoon was staring at you was too distracting. his gaze never left your body- dressed in your short sleeping shorts and tank top. you've never felt so exposed to a boy before, and he was across the lawn from you, standing next to his little sister and mother. it was honestly shocking to you how confident park sunghoon was being- blantantly checking you out although you had woken up five minutes prior.

sunghoon himself was shocked at seeing you, standing on the porch to the house right beside his new one.

when his parents had told them that they were moving at the beginning of the summer- he was admiittley pissed. he lived right down the street from jake, and only a ten minute walk away from jay's and heeseung's houses. he didn't want to move- plus, he liked the house he lived in before. it was where he and yewon had grown up together- where his parents had learnt how to parent together- where so many family memories of relatives from all over coming on holidays to celebrate.

but now, as you stand in those awfully short, shorts that expose your soft legs, he could care less about his old house.

you were hot- and now you were his neighbour. which means he could possibly see more of you in moments like the one you're both in now- with you with your swollen lips from sleeping- and the strap of your tank top falling down to expose your collarbone.

to sunghoon, it seemed as if the y/l/n y/n that was known at school and parties, was completely different to the one who stood across the lawn from him now. you looked innocent and sweet- and not like you had just beat everyone at beer pong and grinded ontop one of the tables with his teammate a few days ago.

it had always been obvious to sunghoon that you were out of his league- you two were just insanely different from one another that there would be no way for him to ever interact with you.

but now, maybe his luck was changing.

"kwangho! there you are! these are our new neighbours!" his mother pulled him out of his thoughts.

"sorry! sorry!" his father sheepishly shrugged and smiled at your family. "nice to meet you!"

your parents spoke politely for a few moments, making you try and avoid eye contact with sunghoon for a while longer until they gave the final goodbye and you all went inside again, your eyes catching a final glimpse of sunghoon's smirk before you closed the front door.

you had no idea as to why park sunghoon made you so nervous. it wasn't like yourself to feel so- intimidated by someone- let alone by a boy. you didn't understand why he was so reserved in every public setting you had seen him in- and so confident and almost cocky as he stood infront of your parents.

you weren't sure how you felt about your new next door neighbour, but you were sure that you'd make the most out of it.

you didn't see sunghoon or any of his family during the first week that they had moved in next door. you didn't go out with your friends for the final parties of the summer before school started- opting to just stay in, laying in your bed and questionning your identity.

you didn't know how you would ever be able to face sunghoon again since the last time you had seem him- him making you a nervous, blushing mess under his gaze from ten meters away. you had never been as messy as that before. nor have you ever seen park sunghoon so cocky and confident before.

the day that your senior year of high school started, you woke up late.

rushing around your room in an attempt to get everything sorted before you rushed out the door to school was probably hilarious looking from anyone that wasn't you. and you would've thought your morning was complete shit, but you had some sort of common sense to open your curtains before leaving your room for the day- just happening to catch park sunghoon shirtless, brushing his teeth on his mini balcony directly across from your own, and staring right at you.

the early morning sun was basking around on his pale chest and shoulders. a fine line of abs covers his abdomen and from a far you can see there are a few moles spread around his skin that match the ones on his face.

sunghoon smirks with his toothbrush still in his mouth before he pulls it out and leans over his balcony, spitting the toothpaste out onto the small patch of grass between the sides of your houses.

when he stands upwards again, the smirk that you're slowly becoming familiar with is still plastered onto his face. your face must be contorted into some sort of mixture of shock and desire that he finds a way to amuse himself.

sunghoon brings up his hand that doesn't hold his toothbrush and teasingly waves his hand at you. your jaw drops when reality hits you and you realize that shritless park sunghoon is standing 4 meters away and waving at you.

you quickly shut your curtains again, blocking eachother from seeing one another. you only notice then that you were holding in your breath and let out a sharp and quick exhale of breath.

"what the fuck." you mumble out quickly to yourself, your hands still gripping onto your curtains.

"what's wrong, honey?" your mother's voice asked from your doorway, where's she's leaning against the doorframe with a laundry basket against her hip.

"oh! uh, nothing!" you force smile at her, hoping she didn't just see you almost drool over your new neighbours.

"oh, ok! well, you better hurry, or you'll be late for school!" she smiles cheerily at you, turning away and walking further down the hall of your house.

"okay!" you call after her, your fake smile dropping as soon as she's out of view.

after first seeing park sunghoon as a quiet dork in your freshman year, you would have never had guessed that he'd be teasing you across your balconies while being shirtless. it was as if the image of park sunghoon that you had made- that you had been given by sunghoon himself- after all these years, was something completely different than who he really was.

and you were determined to figure out who exactly that was- as soon as you get the image of how hot he is shirtless out of your head.

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

the rest of your first day of senior year was fine, the random flashback of sunghoon waving at you would fly through your mind but you forced it out and distracted yourself with your friends or your schoolwork that was somehow already piling up.

you still hadn't managed to tell your friends about who your new next door neighbour was. you knew if (and when) you did, they'd be ushering you into your own house and peeping through your curtains to get a glance at him in a millisecond.

you didn't seem to have any classes with your neighbour this semester- something that you never thought you would be grateful for- every other time that you had a class together- you'd barely even look at him. this year however, it seemed as if you were hyper aware of his presence looming around the classrooms and hallways.

you saw the group of familiar jocks all crowding around the hall at the end of the day. chaehyun was walking beside you, ranting about how she already hates all her teachers for this semester. you noticed sunghoon admist the group of boys, his back turned towards them as he was going through his locker.

"y/n! chae!" sunoo called out, beckoning you both over to his group of friends. his cheery smiled pulled you both in, so now you had joined the crowd in the crowded hallway as well.

sunghoon turned at the mention of your name, taking in your overpowering aura as you approached his friend group.

jake immediately pulled you into his side, your arm wrapping around his back, "where the hell have you been? haven't seen you in weeks." he pouted down at you.

"yeah, what the fuck? it's not like you to miss so many parties at the end of summer." jay chimed in, looking at you with a confused expression.

you shrugged, "eh, i just didn't feel like it, wanted to spend sometime with my family before school starts up again."

"lame!" chaehyun teased you, making the rest of the gorup laugh. you turned your head in sunghoon's direction, only for his back to be turned to you, as if you weren't there, he continued to pull out textbooks and put in his bag.

"there's still all this school year to party guys." you roll your eyes at them.

"that's right," jake said, "more time for you to come into my bed." there were a round of groans in the crowd, making jake smirk at you.

you dragged back your arm that was wrapped around his back and slid your hand up to his cheek, "in your dreams, jake." you patted his cheek.

"we have to go find dayeon, y/n." chaehyun nodded at you, pushing herself off of heeseung and tugging on your backpack to go.

"yeah, you're right." your mind filled with your other friend, wondering how her first day of senior went, and why she hadn't found you and chaehyun yet. "see you guys later."

the group of atheletes say their goodbyes and watch you and chaehyun walk away down the hall. they wait until you're both out of earshot until they speak.

"you need to stop flirting with y/n, she's too hot for you." jay nudges jake gently.

"if she's too hot for me, then she's way too hot for you." jake rolls his eyes at his friend.

"then why does she practically beg me to bring her to my place at every party, bro." jay shakes his head teasingly.

"what do you think of y/n, hoon?" heeseung turns the groups' attention to the quiet boy.

sunghoon feels himself tense at the mention of his and your names in the same sentence. "she's alright." he shrugs nonchalantly, his hand halting in his locker nervously.

"alright!?" jake asks confused, looking at the guys in the group and then to sunghoon again, "bro, are you blind?"

sunghoon swings his backpack over his shoulder and slams his locker shut, "no, i'm not. i wish i was so i wouldn't have to look at you all day." jake crosses his arms over his chest at sunghoon's insult.

"ok, but seriously sunghoon, you don't wanna fuck y/n?" jay asks him.

sunghoon sighs deeply, "i've already told you guys one million times, i don't want to fuck anyone that any of you have fucked before. ok?"

he sees all his friends glance at eachother with confused expressions on their faces.

"what?" sunghoon asks them when its silent for longer than he expected it to be.

"none of us have ever got with y/n, hoon." heeseung explains to him slowly.

"not yet, anyways." jake cuts in.

"shut up." annoyed, jay puts his hand up to jake to silence him.

sunghoon thinks that that moment was when he got some hope that you could be his- even if for one night. he's always found you pretty, but you were so out of his league that he figured his more outgoing more confident friends would suit you more.

sunghoon had always seen you flirting with his friends. he had heard many times from his friends that they all found you hot. he heard from basically everyone in the school that you liked to fuck around and have fun so openly. so overtime, sunghoon had figured that you had gotten with some of his friends and that you'd never look at him the same way you look at anyone you want to have fun with.

sunghoon was honestly shocked that his friends had never successfully hooked up with you. everyone and probably their parents knew that you and jay had made out multiple tomes and multiple parties, so everyonoe guessed that the two of you have gone further as well.

sunghoon knows that there's nothing wrong with sleeping around- he does it himself, his friends all do it- but there's just something unappealing to him when he finds out the girl he's been talking to all night at a party has fucked one of his friends. it gets him all wrapped up in his head that what he's doing with the girl is something that she's done with someone that he's referred to as his brother before.

it feels wrong to him- almost unloyal in a sense. his friends have explained to him one million times that they're fine with hooking up with the same girl- that it's just fun and no one gets hurt. but still, sunghoon can't imagine doing that to one of his friends- to one of his brothers.

so yes, sunghoon isn't a virgin. he lost his virginity when he was a sophomore- at some beach party that jake and jay had dragged him to in the summer when they went to australia together. he doesn't remember much of it, just that he was glad to not be labelled a virgin anymore from his friends and society.

since that summer, he's been dragged to almost every party his friends went to. and if there was a pretyt girl that happened to notice him through his large, loud crowd of friends- he made sure she didn't go to his school. usually, he was lucky enough to hook up with girls that were visiting their friends for the weekend and lived in a different city.

sunghoon's heard the so called 'rumours' that he was still a virgin. he's heard different girls in his school claim to have taken his virginity- when in reality he has no idea who they are. he doesn't understand why his- or anyone else's for the matter- virgin status was such a big deal. there were some people who lost their virignity younger than others and there were some who lost their virginity way past college years.

the rumours make sunghoon laugh. he told his friends to not tell anyone that he's not a virgin. he liked to watch everyone scramble around trying to find out the truth about him. his friends had told him that sometimes people will come up to them ask whether he's a virgin or not- or sometimes if they're bold enough- they'll just ask him himself.

sunghoon has learnt that the whole society construct of virginity is stupid and meaningless and he wishes his wasn't one of the biggest rumours around his school.

"anyways, when will we get to see that new house of yours, hoon?" jake swung his arm around sunghoon's shoulders.

"yeah, we all want to see it!" sunoo smiled up at him.

sunghoon hadn't told his friends about his new next door neighbours either. he hadn't told them that your rooms were across from one another and that he had basically eye fucked you a week prior. he knew as soon as he did, he wouldn't be able to get his friends out of his house for the rest of the school year.

"my parents are still moving stuff around, so they don't want anyone over." sunghoon shrugged, lying through his teeth.

"oh come on!" jay pushed sunghoon's shoulder. "that's a ball of crap! we know your parents love us!" his friends all raised their eyebrows up at sunghoon's excuse to not have them over, wondering what the problem was.

"anyways, i have to get to practice." sunghoon nudged his way through his group of friends, aiming for the exit of the school doors.

"what the hell? why can't we go to your house?" jake called after him in shock.

"aren't you guys suppose to be at practice in like?" sunghoon turned and checked his watch, "five minutes ago?"

he watched his friends all shout in shock about being late, trying to push past one another to get to the soccer field in the back of the school before their coach kills them all for being late. sunghoon could only laugh, before turning and walking home, wondering if he'll see you on the way there.

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

sunghoon only managed to keep his friends away from his new house for a week since they all followed him home friday afternoon.

sunghoon likes to listen to music while he walks home after school. since sunghoon is an introvert, he finds school to not only be physically tiring, but mentally. so he looks forward to blasting music in his earphones on his way home from school. he truly didn't know his idiotic friends were following behind him during the fifteen minute walk until they pounced on his back as soon as he stepped foot on his driveway.

"what the hell?" sunghoon gasped, ripping his earphones out of his ear to hear his friends' annoying laughter. "what are you doing here?"

"bro, we've been following you the entire time." jake explained through laughter.

sunghoon could only stare at his three friends laughing their heads off on his driveway, praying to god you were already home and closing your curtains in your bedroom. he really didn't want to deal with all the shit he was going to get from his friends once they found out who his next door neighbour was.

"this is a nice place sunghoon," jay pointed up at the house, "why don't you let us inside, we can all hangout until the party tonight."

sunghoon almost groaned outloud at the mention of the party. he had a stressful first week of senior year and he wouldn't even get to be by himself for the few hours before the party to get to relax. but still, he nodded to friends, almost rushing them inside.

"where are your parents?" heeseung asked curiously, all four boys taking off their shoes and backpacks in the front hall of the house, the screen door still being open.

"uh, my mom's probably at the grocery store and my dad's at work for another hour." sunghoon explained, wanting to go into the kitchen for some food.

"why is y/n here?" jake asked, amking the other three boys turn their heads to look out the screendoor.

if the three of his friends weren't so loud, sunghoon was sure that they'd hear him nervously gulp at the mention of your name.

"what the hell? what's she doing?" jay asked, pointing at your figure walking up sunghoon's driveway before crossing onto your own.

sunghoon counted to five in his head before his friends all gasped, watching you unlock the door to the house next door and walking in.

"y/n lives next door?!" jake yelled out, turning around in disbelief to look at sunghoon.

"why didn't you tell us?" heeseung asked, his hands coming out in front of him to ask.

sunghoon maintained his composure and shrugged, "i'm hungry." he turned on his heel and headed to the kitchen, his friends right on his feet continuing to ask questions.

"how long have you known she lived there?" jay asked, watching sunghoon go into the fridge and pull out a bowl of mixed fruit.

"since i moved in." sunghoon didn't look at his friends, pretending to be more interested in the fruit before him than his hot next door neighbour.

"bro what the hell?" jake asked, his jaw still dropped in disbelief. "have you spoken to her?"

"of course he hasn't" jay shook his head, "he can barely look in her eye let alone have a conversation with her."

"i can have a conversation with her!" sunghoon defended himself weakly, an annoyed look still present on his face.

jay rolled his eyes, "hoon, you can have a conversation with everyone but her. i've seen her try to talk to you and you always make it the most dry convo i've ever seen."

sunghoon's mouth gapes open and close as he tries to process more words he can use to defend himself. but he ultimately leaves his mouth shut with a straight face. because his friends are right- with their stupid know-it-all faces- they are right. because sunghoon has always thought you were hot, and out of his league. he thought that the moment he'd open his mouth, his cool composure would fail him and you would see how lame he really is.

sunghoon's cool composure only lasts him so long with the girls he hooks up with at parties- or with the kids at school. he's confident enough to fool them for the moments he has with those people. but as soon as he's alone with his friends or family, it's like his real side comes out. the real side where he's not cool, or self disaplined- but more carefree and funny and witty and he likes playing video games with his friends until 4am until they get laughed at by their parents for being too loud.

sunghoon's cool composure is really a safety persona he puts on so not everyone will know him so easily- they won't hurt him as easily.

with you, the safety persona doesn't feel as strong as it normally does with other people. it scares him. and now that you're his neighbour- he doesn't know how long he can hold out on it because you're so hot and outgoing and extraverted that it keeps drawing him in too quickly.

"but now's your chance, hoon! she's literally right next door! why don't you try talking to her!" heeseung encourages him with a kind smile that heeseung always has on when he talks to anyone of his friends.

sunghoon's gratful for heeseung, but he tsks in response, "because i've arleady told you guys that she's alright." sunghoon lies through his teeth to his friends for the third time that week.

"oh my god, hoon fine!" jay smacks his hand on the table, "if you don't wanna fuck her than i will!"

sunghoon's head snaps towards jay and he can feel apart of him grow anger deep inside at his friends' statement.

"see!" jake points at sunghoon, "if you didn't want to fuck her than you wouldn't get angry like that, we all know about your loyality shit or whatever, so just admit you like your next door neighbour."

"i don't like her." sunghoon clarifies, trying to redeem himself in some sort of way.

"okay, fine," jake puts his hands up to surrender, "you don't like her, but you wanna fuck her."

"jesus, can we just drop this now. this is why i didn't want to tell you guys that she's my neighbour."

"fine fine," jay nods, "but still, i don't see a reason why you shouldn't try to hook up with her, okay?"

sunghoon only glared at his three friends that all wore matching smirks on their faces, all knowing that they were slowly cracking sunghoon into getting with you. they had noticed before that when yours and their friendgroups met up at parties, sunghoon would fall more silent than usual, and he never once even glanced in your direction. they wondered now if something would finally happen between you two.

your complicated relationship with your neighbour started at a party- a shitty party.

a shitty party where barely any one had shown up and where the music sucked. apparently everyone was too exahusted from partying the week before and having to deal with the first week of school again.

you should've known that your night would've been different than any other friday night from the awry beginning, when four boys were piled onto your porch and asking your parents if it would be alright if they drove with you to the party.

jake and jay wore their usual cocky smirks, heeseung stood in the back with his kind smile and cranky park sunghoon stood in the back rolling on his heels, pretending as if he wasn't standing on your porch.

so now, you're sitting on jay's lap in the back of dayeon's car as she drives, and your knees are brushing against sunghoon's who is sitting right beside you.

you've sat on jay's lap before at a party multiple times, but not right beside sunghoon who had been showing complicated behaviour for not only the past two weeks that you were neighbours- but for your entire high school career together. it became obvious quickly that the sunghoon that was being shown when it was just you and him was very different from the sunghoon that was with you when other people were around.

sunghoon sat so quietly beside you it was as if he didn't know who you were. you think that if you weren't neighbours, you wouldn't have thought his behaviour was different than any other time you've seen him. but those cocky, confident moments he had shown you throughout the two weeks wa something that never elft your mind. you were finding yourself looking for him in the halls at school and through the windows of your house, trying to catch a glimpse of him coming home or leaving. but, you saw nothing. it was as if he was purposefully trying to avoid you.

"it's cool that you and hoon are neighbours now." jay said from behind you, his jaw resting on your shoulder as one of his hands lazily played with your hair that was resting over your other shoulder.

"yeah, we didn't even know you guys were neighbours until today." jake chimed in, quirking an eyebrow at sunghoon who pretended like he didn't see it.

"me neither." dayeon grumbled, meeting your eyes in the rearview mirror, indicating that she wanted to know more about it later on.

when you walked into the party (before you knew it was shitty) chaehyun was already tipsy and flirting with heeseung. dayeon and you shared a glance at you friend and rolled your eyes. both of you knew how your other friend felt about lee heeseung, and neither of you were the ones to stop her from flirting with him. heeseung didn't seem to mind though, chaehyun was pretty and he thought she was funny.

the quicker you found out that the party wasn't going to be good, the quicker you drank to forget that it wasn't going to be good.

you didn't realize how much you had drank until you were sitting beside sunghoon with your right leg drapped over his left one. you first noticed the way sunghoon gave you a weird expression as you sat down beside him.

"what? can't your neighbour sit beside you?" you asked him with a smile, your eyes appearing innocent and glossed over as you made eye contact.

"yeah, you can." sunghoon nodded before looking away, further into the house you were in.

"wow, a whole three words spoken to me, that's a record." you responded sarcastically.

"what does that mean?" he looked down at you in confusion.

"i mean, you never speak to me, ever."

a thoughful look spreads across sunghoon's face as he takes in your words, "well, i didn't know that you even wanted to speak to me."

you turn and face him now, a soft pout forming on your lips, "what do you mean? of course i wanna speak to you."

sunghoon felt his confidence boost at your words, your grip on his upperarm becoming firm as you grip harder.

"what do you wanna speak about?" a smirk grows on sunghoon's face.

a taken aback look crosses your face at his change in aura, "just- you're so shy!-but so hot!" and you're sure that even without the alcohol you would've said that to him.

sunghoon chuckles in response, "that's what you wanna talk about?"

"well, i just don't understand you."

"what does that mean?"

"i mean," you lean closer towards him, incase anyone nearby was listening, "i can't figure out if you're a dom or a sub."

sunghoon's sure that if he hadn't known you for almost four years, his eyes would've popped out of his skull at your forwardness, but you're you, and he's used to it and his smirk spread further across his face as your words. "what do you think i am, y/n?"

the atmosphere between you two becomes tense as you maintain eye contact with each other with minimal space between one another. "a sub."

sunghoon throws his head back and laughs at your thought, making the intense atmoshpere dissapate in an instant and you pull away from him with an amused look on your face. "what?" you whine out ot him, feeling as if he was making fun of you at the way he was laughing.

"a sub? really y/n?" he asks, watching you nod in response, "wow, you really don't understand me, or know me at all do you?"

you sit up on your kness on the couch to face him, the skin on your bare knees from your dress riling up distracts sunghoon for a moment as he feels the warmth from your skin against his thigh.

"no i don't!" you whine again, the alcohol defintely affecting you now. "i don't understand why you can't look at me when everyone else is around, but can flirt with me and tease me, and brush your teeth shritless on your balcony when no one else is around."

sunghoon chuckles at your little confession, his index finger drawing circles on your lower thigh were your knee is bent. "is that what made you think i'm a sub?" he asks playfully.

"no, i think you're a sub because you're usually so shy, and a virgin."

sunghoon pulls away and throws his head back to laugh again. "you think i'm a sub virgin?!"

"well, aren't you?" you ask like it's the obvious answer.

sunghoon's fingers return to your thigh then, but it's not drawing little shapes onto your skin, it's his hold hand gripping your thigh. he's suddenly leaning into you, looking up with his eyes into your own. "no way in hell, y/n."

you continue to stare into his eyes, a smirk of your own growing on your face as you try to decipher if he's playing a game with you or not. you place your left hand on sunghoon's warm, tinted pink cheek, "really? because i can so see you being a good boy for me."

sunghoon's hand comes up and takes your hand away from his face, "you're gonna have to save that for your dreams y/n, because that is never going to happen." his hand comes up to grab your jaw, his thumb circling the skin beside your lip.

"oh? so what? you're gonna dom me?" you ask sarcastically trying to not fall for his game.

"yeah, and i'll fuck you so good that you'll cry."

your composure dropped at that moment, feeling yourself become weak all over at sunghoon's words. his thumb that was circling your cheek had moved to your bottom lip, practically begging for you to take it inside your mouth and suck. "prove it."

"y/n! we gotta go! chaehyun's throwing up!" dayeon's voice calls out, making you and sunghoon rip apart.

you turn and look at the frantic dayeon who is calling you over with worried eyes.

"ok! i'm coming!" you jump up, grabbing your sweater and following dayeon, saying a brief goodbye to sunghoon who just watches you run after your friend to take care of your other vomitting friend.

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

heeseung rides in the car ride home with you, dayeon and passed out chaehyun. chaehyun is spread out in the backseat, with her head on heeseung's lap.

"'m sorry guys, i didn't realize how much she had kept on drinking." heeseung mumbled out from the back, pushing chae's hair out of her face.

"it's okay, hee! she told us when we got there that she was gonna keep drinking because the party was shit." dayeon smiles at him through the rearview mirror.

"god that party was so shit!" heeseung agrees, looking out the car's window into the dark city street, glad that he got to leave the place.

"how did you think the party was y/n? i saw you and sunghoon talking, what were you guys up to." dayeon turns the attention towards you in the passenger seat.

"sunghoon?" heeseung asks shocked from the back, careful to wake up chaehyun with his excitement.

"god," you groaned, "we weren't doing anything. we were just talking." you lied through your teeth, something that both you and sunghoon had been doing during those two weeks.

you noticed dayeon and heeseung give each other look, but chose to ignore, you were sobering up quickly since speaking to sunghoon, and you were getting more tired by the second.

-

dayeon dropped you off first, watching you walk into your house safely before leaving to drop off chaehyun and heeseung as well.

you got into your bedroom quietly, dressing in your pyjama shorts and sweater. you felt the exhaustion from the alcohol and holding up chaehyun as she threw up start to settle in. you think you were just about to pass out until your phone vibrated beside your head, showing an instagram dm on the screen.

[y/n.username] : ice_parksunghoon : is chae ok?

you sat up as you read sunghoon's name and swiped open your phone to respond.

[y/n.username] : yeah, she is

[ice_parksunghoon] : are you home now?

[y/n.username] : yeah, i am

[ice_parksunghoon] : do you still want me to prove that i'm a dom?

you felt your breath hitch at his message, the tiredness in your body immediately leaving at the thought of what you and sunghoon would do tonight.

[y/n.username] : come over

it took a few minutes for him to respond.

[ice_parksunghoon] : i'm outside

and then you were quietly running down to yur front door, unlocking it to reveal sunghoon who was still wearing his outfit from the party and he's smirking down as he takes in your own attire.

"you tired?" he asks with a quirk of his eyebrow.

"not anymore." you respond, grabbing his hand and pulling him into your house, leading upstairs to your bedroom.

sunghoon's only seen a few glimpse's of your bedroom from across your balconies, but being inside of it was something so much different. he could see your pictures of your friends and family all over the walls, your set of plushies sat in the chair in the corner of your room, and messy desk with homework already piling up. he could see characterstics of you spread around that he didn't know existed.

you brought him back into reality as you walked up to him, much shorter than he was making him have to completely turn his head down to look at you. your hands trailed over his chest over his black shirt that suited him so well. you could feel his muscles so easily under his chest from figure skating and working out.

"you're gonna be a good boy for me, right hoon?" you teased him, your voie coming out sultry and in a whisper.

you heard sunghoon chuckle darkly as he grabbed your hands away from him, holding onto your wrists, "i thought i told you that would have to be something for your dreams." his fake smile dropped for his next sentence, "and i didn't say you could touch me, baby."

your own smile dropped as you took in his words, your eyes becoming rounder as you listened to him, his grip still on your wrists.

sunghoon's smile returned as he saw a glimpse of submissive gleam over your eyes for a moment, "now why don't you take off your shorts for me?" he let go of your wrists so you could follow his command. his voice had become deeper than you had ever heard it before- his almost compettive, confident aura filling up your room quickly and taking over your own.

you bent over and slid your shorts slowly down your legs until they were on the floor and kicked to side, leaving you only in your ovesized sweater.

sunghoon's hands rested on your newly exposed hips, pulling your sweater up a little, "you're gonna be a good girl for me, right baby?" his new nickname for you had you weak in the knees, your mind going fuzzy at the new sunghoon before you.

"and what if i'm not?" you push him, trying to redeem yourself, wanting to prove that you aren't some submissive girl.

sunghoon bent down to your ear, his lips brushing over the shell as he whispered, "then you'll make me angry, and you'll be punished," he pulled away to look directly in your eyes, "and good girls shouldn't be punished right?" you only nodded in response, which wasn't the right thing to do as his hand came up harshly to grip your jaw, "use your words y/n."

"right."

"right what?"

"right, sir." sunghoon smirked as the submissive state took over you completely then, feeling almost arrogant at how quick he would have you begging for him.

sunghoon's hands return to your hips, where he pushed up your sweater, up and overyour head, leaving you completely naked infront of him still fully clothed. sunghoon takes a moment to scan your body in the moonlight in your room, biting his lip as takes in your appearance. he's thought about you standing before him naked so many times, and now that it's real, he can hardly believe it.

he's instantly turning you around and pushing you up against your bedroom door, his hands roaming your body like he's always imagined, and kissing all over your chest and tits. a small moan leaves your mouth when he bites your nipple gently, his plush lips surround your nipple as he sucks and pulls.

his hand trails down your body to rub his fingers through your folds, feeling just how wet you are. you culd feel him smirk against your skin at the revelation, wishing your body wasn't a dead give away that you've been wet since the party.

his tumb brushes over your clit, making you throw your head back against the door, your eyes meeting sunghoon's as he stares down at your small figure.

"it feels that good already, baby? i haven't even touched you yet." sunghoon teases you, his thumb presses harder, slow circles into your clit.

"wanted this for so long, wanted you for so long, sir." you confess to him, the feeling of him encases your body against your bedrooom door was something close to a dream and you didn't want to wake up.

your words trigger something in sunghoon as he's down on his knees in a second, your bare, wet pussy right in front of his face as he spreads your legs open harshly. your full core is holding yourself up as he meets his tongue with your juices. the first feel of his warm tongue against you makes your hand reach out and grip his hair for support.

until he's pulling away from you, gripping your wrists again, "what did i say about touching me, baby? if you want to touch me, you have to ask for permission."

you whimper as you look down at him, a look of warning on his face, "c-can i touch you, sir?" you ask him nicely.

a pleased look covers his face as he leans in and presses two soft kisses on your clit, "yes, you can."

your hand meets his hair again as he delves into your pussy, his tongue circling your clit and sucking fast. your other hand covers your mouth, not wanting to be too loud at 3am while your family is asleep on the other side of the house.

sunghoon eats you out like a mad man, his hands gripping hard onto your hips as he sucks and tastes your juices- even sweeter than he imagined.

when your body starts to tense, signalling that you're cloe to your high, sunghoon pulls away, a loud whine leaving you as you're about to protest.

"if you want to cum baby you have to ask." sunghoon quirks his eyebrow at you.

"please sir, please let me cum, i was so close!" you practically beg out out to him. a look of thought spreads across sunghoon's face, as if he's actually thinking whether or not you deserve to cum.

"no." he speaks, disbelief filling your body as he places gently kisses on your lower abdomen, far away from where you'd rather want his lips. he stands up, towering over you again, "want you to cum on my cock instead, how's that sound?"

"so good, sir, yes please." you nod your head against the bedroom door. his hands travel up your body to your ribcage, and he's leaning in close to your face, your lips are inches apart- you close your eyes- wanting to relish in the kiss.

"undress me, first." sunghoon speaks, and when you open your eyes again he's backed up away from you, quirking an eyebrow at as you impatiently.

in a second, you're pulling his shirt over his head, taking in hs pale skin you've seen before, but never this close. youcan feel the heat radiating off of him he's so close. you want to trace his moles with your finger tips, but youhurry to unbuckle his belt instead, not wanting him to get more impateint with you.

when his black jeans are kicked on the floor to join the rest of your clothes, you take in the bulge in sunghoon's boxers.

he looks fucking huge- and you let yourself wonder for a moment if he's gonna fit in you or not.

sunghoon takes your hand in his and places it over his buldge, "see how hard you get me, baby?"

"yes, sir." you answer almost instinctively now.

"take my boxers off, y/n." he lets go of your hand, your other hand meeting his boxers band with your other one, both of your hands pulling them down his legs until they drop at his feet.

sunghoon's cock spring up and you can really see just how big and hard he is. it's gotta be the prettiest dick you've ever seen. his pale skin turns red at the tip, where precum is already leaking out.

"spit on it." sunghoon commands you, watching as you stare down at his cock with a look of amazement in your eye. he's never seen anyone stare at his dick like that before and it's almost made him shy and embarrassed for a moment.

you continue to do as he says, your lips pursing together as a long strip of spit falls from your lips, to directly in the centre of his pretty cock.

"now make sure my dick's completely covered."

your hand reaches down inbetween your bodies to his dick, your fingers spreading your saliva around until your grip latches on, and starts to mix your saliva and his precum all over his member. if it wasn't for the almost inaudble sharp inhale from sunghoon, youwould've thought he was completely unaffected by your tight and wet grip. his face stayed in the same- almost bored expression, and his body didn't move a muscle.

suddenly, sunghoon is grabbing a hold of your shoulders and turning you around, pushing yo uback toward your bed where you land with a quiet 'oof"

his body is ontop of yours in a second. sunghoon starts kissing down your neck and his hands pry open your legs for his body to slip in between them. he pulls away again for you both to look where your bodies are connecting. his hard cock is laying agianst your wet pussy.

"you're okay?" sunghoon's voice returns to how it usually is everytime you've heard him speak, it's softer and calmer and his eyes meet yours with a certain concern, wanting to make sure that you really want to have sex with him. in his mind, he still couldn't believe that you were having sex with him.

you smile up at him sweetly, a real sweet, genuine smile, "yeah, are you?" he nods with a smile quickly before it drops again and he's grabbing his dick and pressing it against your core. he's slow when he starts to push in, obviously realzing just how big he is. the strech around him feels good, it's something you've never felt before and you take the time to relish in it when he hits your hilt.

sunghoon gives you a moment to adjust until he starts moving slowly in you, one of his hands reaching up and gripping your neck, never breaking eye contact with you.

his thrusts quickly pick up speed, his cock hitting your gspot almost immediately everytime. your hand grip onto your sheets underneath you, biting onto your lip so you don't moan too loud.

he removes his hand from your throat and grabs ahold onto your thighs, using them as leverage topound into your harder. you would have never thought that sunghoon would be so rough while he fucks- his usualy calm and shy demeanor covers him up so well.

he throws one of your legs up and over his shoulder, while he pins the other one down to the bed. his thrusts never stop as he's balancing himself on his knees, pounding into you like his life depended on it. in a way, it did- he wanted to show you just how dominant he was- he wanted to prove to you that he was worthy of your time.

sunghoon saw the way that your eyes were already rolling to the back of your head, never had been fucked this rough so quick before in your life.

"what? you gonna cum already, baby?"

his question makes you open your eyes to look at him. he has a teasing, mischevious look in them and it makes you gulp, trying harder to catch your breath to answer him.

"n-no sir, i'm not gonna cum yet, wanna hold it for you." you whined out to him, his smirk resting on his face at your words.

"that's a good girl." his praise makes you realize just how much you want to be praised by him, you want him to think of you as his good girl that would do anything to please him. you never thought you'd be this submissive when it came to you and sunghoon, but you aren't disappointed as he continues to fuck into you harder.

sunghoon's hand grips your neck again as his speed slows down, wanting you to feel all of him as he slids in and out of you. the veins on his cock drags aganst every spot in your wet walls, adding to the pleasure before he hits your gspot.

"you're so good, sir." you speak, his grip on your neck loosening for you to speak.

your hand comes down and starts rubbing your clit harshly, adding to the pleasure of it all. his grips tightens on your neck again as he watches you rub your clit, your fingers getting soaked with your juices from how wet you are- unti he tsks and pulls away from you.

sunghoon lets your leg that was on his shoulder drop and he grabs both of your legs to hold them up and together. he pushes your knees so they bend into your face, your hands wrapping around your calves to help hold your legs in place.

"good girl, you hold them there so sir can fuck you." sunghoon smirks at you and spits onto your exposed pussy, creating an even larger mess of your cores. he feels your walls clench around his cock harder at the change of position, makin ghis breaths go ragged as he feel shis orgasm approaching. "fuck, i love your pussy."

sunghoon's praise makes your chest feel lighter, wanting to thank him but the words falling short as his thrusts pick up speed again.

his fingers start to rub back and forth over your pussy quickly, your grip on the sheets tightening as your back arches off of your bed- the pleasure becoming almost too much. a louder moan escapes your lips, making sunghoon rip open your legs again so he could slip himself closer to you.

"you gotta stay quiet, baby, or else you won't get to cum." sunghoon grunts out- hishand covering your mouth to quieten your moans. your walls were getting tighter with each thrust that he gave, he could feel your lips pouting and opening against his palm that kept you quiet. "do you wanna cum, y/n?" he sees you nod, a look of desperation on your face as he fucks deep inside of you. "beg." he removes your hand from your mouth so you could speak.

"please sir, i wanna cum, you feel so good, i wanna cum all over your cock." he whine out, trying to be quiet. a pleased smirk covers sunghoon's face as his fingers reach your clit again, soaking them more with your juices.

"cum."

with two more thrusts and the speed of his fingers on your clit, your body tenses up as your orgasm reaches it's peak within you. a quiet moan of sunghoon's name as your eyes roll to back of your head. his thrusts only slow down for a second as you recover from it- not wanting to overstimulate you too much.

your hands leave your sheets and hold onto sunghoon's neck instead, making eye contact with him.

"please cum for me sir, wanna feel your cum."

"i will, baby, i will." sunghoon grunts out, started to fuck into you faster again. you hold your moans of sensitivity back, more focused o n the way sunghoon's pretty face scrunched up in pleasure.

sunghoon rips his cock out of you then, his hand meeting his dick to jerk it off, you can see a mixture of spit, your juices and precum over his dick as he cuts. white spurts of cum land on your core as he lets out grunts and whispers of your name. he only stops jerking once the sensitivity kicks in for him, his eyes opening and looking down at the mess he made of you. your innocent eyes look up at him as you scoop some of his cum up on your finger and slip it into your mouth, humming over the salty taste.

"fuck." sunghoon smiles down, his chest heaving heavily. he forces himself to get off of you, grabbing a towel that was hanging on the back of your desk chair to wipe you up. you watch him as he careful ghosts the towel over your skin to wipe him his cum, as if you were going to break now.

when he figures you're clean enough he smiles at you one more time, and leans over to press a kiss to your forehead. it only gives you a second to relish in his warmth until he's pulling away again, and passing you your over sized sweater to slip on again.

you curl up in your sheets as you watch him dress. a feeling you've never felt before washes over you as you realize that he's getting ready to leave you for the night.

"you didn't make me cry like you said you would." you quirk an eyebrow up at him with a teasing grin.

sunghoon slips his shirt over his head and looks at you, both of you dressed again. "next time i will."

"next time?" you tilt your head to the side, a feeling of excitement growing in your chest.

sunghoon shrugs nonchalently, grabbing his phone off of your desk, "if you want there to be a next time."

you smile at him, "i do."

he smiles at you as he stands infront of your balcony doors, "okay, then i'll see you around y/n."

"ok.

he smiles at you one last time as he opens your balcony doors and closes them behind you, waving at you before turning and climbing over onto his own. he waves one last time at you from his bedroom, before he's closing his curtains for the night and leaving you alone.

you're alone in your bedroom that smells like sex and it's making you feel like a giant pit of doom is growing in your chest- masked by the feeling of excitement and butterflies, wondering when exactly you would see your neighbour again.

since that first party of the school year, you had somehow became friends with benefits with the boy next door.

every weekend after, one of you would be at the other's house, getting lost in pleasure in their bed. you were having fun and felt comfortable with sunghoon during those times.

it was during the week that frustrated you.

those five school days felt like they dragged on, everytime you'd see sunghoon in the halls he'd turn away from you, acting as if he didn't know you. when you were surrounded by your friends he wouldn't even look at you.

you were invisible to him during the week, yet attached during the weekend when you were alone.

you knew that he was quite busy for a senior in highschool- having to have a strict schedule for his figure skating career. you tried to come up with a reason as to why he was acting like that towards you- maybe he was just tired during the week and didn't feel like talking much because of it.

you wondered often if sunghoon had told his friends about the two of you hooking up as jay and jake had ultimately stopped flirting with you and hugging you. you tried to get chaehyun to ask heeseung about sunghoon but she didn't want to intrude on him and his friends.

both of you hadn't really set any exact boundaries for your spontanous friends with benefits relationship- no one clarified anything about being allowed to have sex with other people during it. at first, you had figured that he was seeing other people- maybe some girls on the other figure skating teams- but that wouldn't really make sense because you see him come home at 11 every night looking tired as hell, and you were with him all weekend.

dayeon and chae didn't seem to care at first when you told them about what you and sunghoon had been doing for the past few weekends. but like you, overtime they started to get confused with his behaviour. you knew you weren't dating, but still...

if he had told his friends to back off of you, then the least he could do was smile at you in the hallways.

the past week, you hadn't seen him at all. he wasn't in the halls, he was never at his locker, and he kept his curtains shut all week. you had texted him on wednesday, asking if he was alright, which he only responded to with a thumbs up emoji.

so youu decieded to ignore him at this weekends party. it was hard at first- he looked so good in his loose fitting shirt and black jeans, you wanted to walk right over to him and take him to a quiet corner where he could whisper all the things he wanted to do to you.

you watched him for a bit, smirking and laughing with his friends, as if he was completely unaware of how he had been affecting you for the past month.

to be fair, sunghoon was unaware.

sunghoon had been tired throughout the past weeks. he felt like he could barely stand during the weekends from the past five days of exhaustion- but that waasn't why he was keeping his distance from you.

sunghoon had heard from his friends before that you had had friends with benefits before- and he hadn't. he wasn't sure what came with a friends with benefits relationship- but he was glad that his first one was with you. he found himself thinking of you more than ever since you two had first started hooking up. it felt like it was slowly becoming out of his control- as soon as he got a second of peace during school, at home, or in the middle of his skating practice- his thoughts went to you- and he didn't know why.

sunghoon had not wanted you to think that he was clingy after hooking up with you, therefore he distanced himself during the week- during the times that he was separated physically from you. he also wasn't a big fan of pda- and he knew you were. he had seen you latch onto anyone whether you were drunk or sober, not caring if others saw you or waht they thought about you. it was a characteristic of yours that sunghoon was jealous of- another reason as to why you were so out of his league.

at tonight's party, he had realized that you hadn't smiled at him like you usually do when you walk into the place. you hadn't brushed your hair behind your ear and bounced your way over to him. he figured that you just wanted to hang out with chaehyun and dayeon before coming to him.

sunghoon would glance over at you every now and then, watching you drink from your red solo cup that brought out the pink in your cheeks. he had immediately noticed when choi yeonjun and the rest of his friends had sat down with you and your friends. he noticed that yeonjun sat directly beside you, smiling down at you with a hint of mischeif behind his eyes.

everyone knew choi yeonjun: he was talented, good looking, funny and charming. he captured the attraction of everyone in each room that he walked into. everyone in the city knew of him. it didn't surprise sunghoon that yeonjun had sat down beside you. you were well known too in the city- and you were pretty- so pretty.

the more the sunghoon watched you and yeonjun interact on the couch, the more he got it wrapped in his head that he was defintely not okay with it. he felt his jaw tick when he saw yeonjun place his hand on your bare thigh, you dress ridden up a little too high now from sitting down too long. when his hand rested there for 10 seconds more than he liked without you pushing it off, sunghoon pushed through his friends and walked right up to the little group that had formed on the couch. he heard heeseung call him from behind, but his eyes were set on you and yeonjun.

you could sense sunghoon's presence in a millisecond now that you had been close to him for a while. the second he stood to your right, you looked up. he had an annoyed look on his face as he looked down at you, glancing at your face and then yeonjun's hand on your thigh. you smirked to yourself when you realized that that was what got sunghoon so pissed looking.

"hi, sunghoon." you smiled up at him sweetly, still not pushing yeonjun's hand away. you thought of it as a little punishment of your own for avoiding you all week.

sunghoon overly smiled at you, a smile that to anyone except for you and his friends- knew was fake and that he was pissed, "hi y/n, do you want to come help me in the kitchen for a second?" he pointed his thumb over his shoulder towards the kitchen.

"sure." you answered cheerily, pretending to not pick up on the fact that he was mad. you felt yeonjun's hand slip from your thigh- realizing then just how cold it was on your skin.

sunghoon met you half way by grabbing your hand, leading you down the hallway to the bathroom instead.

"what're you doi-?" you start to ask him, being cut short when he pushes you up against the bathroom counter.

"what are you doing?" sunghoon grunts back at you.

you cross your arms over your chest, trying to get some more distance between you and the annoyed boy, "i'm having fun with my friends."

"with yeonjun touching all over you?" sunghoon hisses at you, not being able to get the image out of his head.

"oh my god, hoon. he was not touching all over me!"

"still, he was touching you," sunghoon's hand came up and brushed your hair behind your ear, "and i don't like other people touching what's mine."

"what's yours?" you raise an eyebrow, challenging him almost.

"you're mine." sunghoon whispers as his pale features turn dark.

you smirk to yourself, not getting a chance to speak before sunghoon's hands are at the bottom hem of your dress, lifting it so it rests on your hips. your black panties are on display for him as you can feel the jealousy growing within him and the room.

"what're doin-?"

"do i need to show you who you belong to y/n?" sunghoon's voice was firm as he spoke to you, one of his hands gripping harshly onto your waist. meanwhile, his other hand had found its way to your core, shoving his fingers into your folds under the panties.

a small noise escapes your lips at the sudden intrusion, grabbing onto the bathroom counter behind you. "fuck, you're already so wet, baby."

you bite your lip and nod at him, unable to form any words. sunghoon hisses when his index finger slips so easily into your core, unmoving once inside. his thumb starts to play with your clit, wanting to tease you a bit. you let out a loud moan when his thumb picks up pace on your swollen clit. your head falls forward onto his shoulder, your moans filling his ears.

his index finger is joined by his middle fingers, stretching you more and starts to slip in and out of you quickly. sunghoon curls them, making your walls tighten when he already hits your gspot.

"hoon, shit." your voice comes out in a soft whisper. a sharp slap hits your thigh then.

"what did you call me?" sunghoon almost growls into your neck, biting harshly.

"s-sir! sorry sir!" you were prepared to beg if he stopped. luckily, he continued to kiss your neck and jaw, seeing your legs spreading wider for him to have more access.

"that's right. your pussy belongs to, sir."

you start to shutter in sunghoon's grasp, your senses becoming overwhelmed. sunghoon catches the way your eyes start to roll to the back of your head, nose coming into a scrunch. sunghoon smiles to himself, loving the way he so quickly tears you apart. he made no effort in slowing his fingers down from the quick pace he had set, he could feel you clenching around them already. with every curl of his finger, your body arched into his.

one of your hands lets go of the bathroom counter and holds onto sunghoon's black shirt, desperate to hold on to him in some way. sunghoon continues to watch your face contort into pleasure, loving the struggle you were having.

"you're such a slut, baby. letting me finger you in the bathroom." sunghoon teases you, watching you open your eyes to look at him, pleasure growing in your pupils, "are you going to cum, y/n? you wanna cum on my fingers?"

you whine out to him, "yes sir! please sir! please let me cum!" you gasp when sunghoon's hand grips your neck tightly, making you focus on the the pleasure his fingers were giving you.

"you can cum, baby." sunghoon allows you, letting you snap the coil that had been building in your stomach since the moment sunghoon had pulled you into the bathroom.

"f-fuck!" you stuttered out, waves of pleasure coursing htrough you as your head leaned forward onto sunghoon's shoulder again, needing the support.

sunghoon rips his fingers out of you, pulling away from you completely. you're about to complain but feel his fingers trailing over your lips. out of instinct, you open your mouth, and you can taste yourself. sunghoon smirks at how fucked out you look, humming when he feels your tongue circling his fingers.

"that's it baby, suck my fingers like it's my cock." you make sure to lick your juices clean off of sunghoon's fingers. when he pops them out of your mouth and notices the way your thighs still rub together. "what is it baby? need to cum again? do you want yeonjun to make you cum?"

sunghoon turns you around so your ass is on his crotch, your eyes meeting briefly in the mirror and begging him to fuck you. "sunghoon, i don't want anyone but you, just want you're cock."

sunghoon hums, nodding his head, "do you think you deserve my cock after letting someother man touch you right in front of me?"

"yes sir! please! i'm sorry sir, only you can fuck me!" you're about to say more but sunghoon cuts you off, slapping your ass.

"so fucking needy all the time." he slaps your ass again hard.

"'m sorry sir, just need you so bad."

sunghoon shoves two of his fingers inside your wet pussy again. you whine out, clutching onto the bathroom counter as his fingers pick up pace again.

"f-fuck." your eyes roll to the back of your head again, your body subconcsciouly moving away from him.

"what is it, y/n? too sensitive to take my fingers again?" sunghoon chuckles, rubbing your clit with his other hand, making you shift your hips and arch your back into him. he didn't have to look to know that there was a giant mess inbetween your thighs from the mixture of your spit, juices and cum.

"your pussy belongs to me, right baby? only i can make you a weak mess?"

you start to lose balance quickly at his curling of his fingers. his fingers feel so good inside you, hitting your gspot everytime since knows your body so well now.

sunghoon knows your body so well now that he knows you're close to cumming again. "you wanna cum again, y/n? make more of a mess on my fingers?"

"sunghoon!" his name slips out of your mouth as you feel his fingers start to fuck harder.

"who's pussy is this, y/n? tell me and i might let you cum." he commands you, the room filling with the sound of your wet pussy schelching around his fingers.

"you! fuck, sir! only yours, sir." you almost cry, your breaths becoming ragged as his hand wraps around your throat again, squeezing from behind you.

"good girl, my good girl's gonna cum now, right?"

"c-cuming, oh god, i'm cuming." your walls tighten harder about his fingers, coating them with more of your cum. your body shutters against him, pounding his fingers into you until you're pushing him away from the sensitivity. when he slowly pulls out of you and releases your throat, you collapse onto the bathroom counter.

sunghoon makes sure you don't hit your head anywhere, pulling your hair from your face so he could see how fucked out and sweaty you look. he sheepishly smiles at you when you make eye contact.

"wanna suck your dick now." you pout up at him, making him smile as he reaches for his jean buttons.

"sunghoon! are you in there?" there's a few pounds on the door and jay's voice is heard. "jake wants to leave, are you coming?"

"fuck." sunghoon mutters as he looks at the door, knowing that they were his only ride home. "yeah! i'm coming, give me a second." sunghoon turns his attention back to you who's already standing up off of the counter and pulling down your dress. "are you good?" he comes up behind you in the mirror, his hands wrapping around your waist.

you turn him in his grasp, "yeah,' m fine." he backs away from you, smiling at you as he heads to the door. "so i'll see you next weekend? y'know since i'll ignore you all week." you said to him as he reached for the door knob.

"what?" he paused and looked at you with a confused expression.

"well, that's what you do right? ignore me until you wanna hook up?"

"i don't ignore you."

"well you don't talk to me at school, or even text me."

sunghoon's eyes glance around the small bathroom, trying to process your words, "i didn't... do that... before we started to hook up?"

"well- well no, but-."

"do you want me to do that? text you and talk to you at school."

you stop yourself from smiling at such simple words- simple actions, "yes."

a small smile grows on sunghoon's face, "ok, i'll see you around then." you smiled in return and he left the bathroom, leaving you to clean up your ruined makeup by yourself, cursing him for finally making you cry.

-- -- -- -- --

you should've known not to believe sunghoon when he said he'd stop ignoring you, although he didn't really see it as that.

walking into school the monday after party, you were content on knowing that sunghoon would at least acknowledge your presence at school when your friends were around.

you had walked right up to where his group of friends crowds the hall at the end of day, all of them catching up so that they could walk home together. you were greeted by everyone except for sunghoon.

you tried smiling at sunghoon, wanting to see if he'd atleast smile back, but was returned with nothing but that same, cold expression he usually wore when he was in public. you were trying to give him the benefit of the doubt that maybe he was just shy in public, but chae and dayeon talked you out of that self excuse when they brought up the fact that he could talk to everyone- even girls that he's wanted to hook up with in the past- but you.

you were hurt more when it became friday night and not a single text from him was sent during the week. you had decided to ignore him again at the party of the night, wanting to give him his own medicine.

but your own anxious thoughts kept running through your head- that maybe sunghoon ignored you again this week because you came off as too clingy last weekend, or that he was fucking somone else instead.

you didn't understand why the thought of him getting into bed with someone other than you bothered you so much. you felt like you barely knew sunghoon, but knew him like the back of your hand at the same time. maybe it was because you had technically always been by each other due to your friend groups always interacting together- that it was some sort of trick on your mind that made you feel like sunghoon and you were friends too.

the more you thought of how much you knew sunghoon- the more you realized just how little you did.

you knew he figure skated, and that he liked to hang out with his friends- and that he liked when you bite his earlobe during hte five seconds he let you have false dominance over him before he took over again. but other than everything you knew about what made him sensitive and close to an orgasm- you pretty much knew nothing.

sunghoon was your mutual friend of four years, the person you spent every weekend night with wrapped up in his sheets that smelt like his cologne you had gotten used to, your next door neighbour- yet he felt like a stranger.

so you were upset when your plan to ignore him tonight when you showed up and learnt that he had decided to stay home this weekend.

"is he okay?" you asked jake, who only gave you an odd look before nodding, probably wondering why you were asking about sunghoon's well being when you don't even speak to him in public.

sunghoon frustrated you. and when you get frustrated from pure exhaustion- you drink- a lot.

you drink so much to forget that you're frustrated and don't realize how much you drink until chaehyun and dayeon are pulling you away from the drink table and into dayeon's car. you remember a faint memory of jay and jake waving bye to you from the lawn, and heeseung whispering something into chaehyun's ear with a smile.

you remember being quiet on the car ride home, until your phone notified you that you got a text.

to : sunghoon 💙 Do u wan to com over?????😜😜😜😜😜

from : sunghoon 💙 yeah sure, text me when

sunghoon knew from your texts that you were either completely wasted or just fooling around with him, but nonetheless, he got excited from it- knowing that either way you were still thinking about him. he had truly been tired from the past week- practice and school and his parents all kicking his ass.

opening your balcony doors when you gave him the 'ok' to come over, he wasn't too surprised to quickly realize how drunk you were. you were only wearing your underwear and bra, trying to sit sexily on your bed as you waited for him. in your mind, you truly did look like the sexiest woman alive, but the false sexy utopia you had created in your mind fell quickly when sunghoon only laughed when he took in your appearance.

"what?" you whined at him, your knees coming up to your chest, not expecting his pure laugh to fill your bedroom once he came in.

"nothing! nothing!" sunghoon reassured you as he continued to chuckle, closing the doors behind him as he stepped closer to you.

"why are you laughing?" you pouted at him, trying to not let him hurt your drunk feelings.

"what are you doing?" sunghoon looks down at your sitting posture, an amused smile still on his lips.

"i'm trying to look sexy for you." your response only made him laugh harder, covering his mouth with his hand to not wake up your parents. "what?!" you put your hands over your face, trying to hide as much as you can from him.

"i'm sorry, i'm sorry!" he laughed out, reaching his hands out to remove your own gently, "it's just- i already think you're sexy- you don't need to sit in such an... awkward position when i come in. and what the hell was that look on your face?" you look up at him then, watching him contort his face into an expression that resembled yours when he first came in- only it really was NOT as sexy as you thought it was.

you playfully slap his arm, "i didn't look like that!"

"oh, yes you did!"

you laugh with him this time, watching him bend down and pick up your large shirt, passing it to you.

"what? you don't want to fuck me?" you suddenly pout again, your fingers going over the shirt's fabric in your hand.

the atmosphere in your room intenses for a moment as sunghoon switches between balancing on each of his feet, carefully thinking of what he should say, "not tonight y/n, you're drunk. tomorrow maybe, ok?"

your jaw drops open in disappointed, ready to protest that you're fine to have sex tonight, but stopping when a sharp pain went through your head, causing you to hiss and salp your hand to your forehead.

"y/n? are you okay?" sunghoon's voice as laced with concern then, as he knelt down so he was level with you.

"yeah, i just have a headache now- i really drank too much."

sunghoon grabs a waterbottle left on your desk as you slip the shirt over your pounding head. "here, drink this and go to sleep, you'll feel better in the morning."

you take the waterbottle from him and watch as he starts to leave for the night- making your heart and lips pout in disappointment. "can't you stay for a bit, hoon? what if i need to throw up."

sunghoon turns back and rolls his eyes at you playfully. if it was any of his friends that said that to him, he'd be gone in an instant. he was never the type of the person that could handle other people's vomit. but, he wanted to stay with you, to make sure that you would be okay.

"fine." sunghoon nodded his chin towards you, "make room for me."

you slid under the blanket of your bed, moving over so that there would be enough room for the tall boy. sunghoon slips off his shoes and crawls in after you, making sure that there was some distance between you two.

sunghoon's been in your bed multiple times before- but the reason for it was never a saint. both of you had your heads on different pillows, your bodies facing each other as you layed on your sides.

your bedroom was silent as you closed your eyes, trying to fall alseep so that the ache in your head would stop. even though there was some distance between you and sunghoon, you could still feel his warmth from his body warm up your bed.

your head started to pound harder the more you tried to fall asleep, making your face scrunch up in pain.

"does it still hurt, y/n?" sunghoon's voice asked you, keeping your eyes closed still. his voice cancelled out the loud silence in your bedroom- somehow balancing out the pain in your head for a second.

"yeah, pretty bad." you whispered softly to him. you could feel sunghoon shift the blankets more so that they wrapped around your body, making your heart swell at the care he was showing you for the first time. "can you keep talking, hoon? your voice makes me feel better."

sunghoon paused for a moment before speaking, trying to think of what he should say, "what do you want me to talk about?"

"anything, just until i fall asleep."

sunghoon really thought for a moment as he looked at your calm body, wrapped in your blanket with a subtle pout on your lips- defintely regretting drinking so much tonight. "i remember the first time i saw you- in freshman year. you were sitting three rows in front of me, and you had your hair in a ponytail with a bright pink elastic. and you had on those black nike's you use to always wear before jake spilt that weird, green, halloween punch all over them."

you smiled at his obsveration, opening your eyes to find genuine happiness in his eyes as he recalled his first memory of you.

"i didn't think you noticed me." you confessed to him, remembering your own first memory of the quiet, shy boy.

"how could i have not noticed you?" sunghoon paused for a second, "you're so loud." you gasp as gently as you could out of shock and so that you don't hurt your head more for the moment. you hear sunghoon's low chuckle in your ear, "and pretty."

"you think i'm pretty?"

sunghoon tsked at you, "well yeah, i tell you that you're pretty all the time."

"yeah but that's usually when you have your dick in me."

even in the dark you could see sunghoon roll his eyes at your drunk words, "ok then, i think you're pretty whether my dick is inside of you or not."

your room goes back to being silent as you take in his words, never really thinking much of his compliments all the times before. but as you both lay in your bed, fully clothed and are making no effort to have sex, or to give one another head, or to even makeout, the compliment swirls in your head and sinks into your heart.

"thanks sunghoon."

sunghoon shrugs, "whatever." he tried to be nonchalent about the compliment, also fully aware that the only time he ever did compliment you was when you were about to hook up. it was something that he thought could cross the boundary of a friends with benefit relationship and a romantic relationship.

but none the less, sunghoon moved his head over onto your pillow, messing your foreheads together gently. you hummed at his warmth, your eyes closing to take it in again. his whole presence soothed your headache and made your body realize how tired you actually were from drinking all night.

"night, hoon."

"night, y/n."

when you felt your body fall into steady breaths and your mind become blank, you knew it'd be any second before you fell asleep for the night. when you felt sunghoon press a soft kiss to your forehead- you hoped to remember it in the morning as you were too close to falling asleep then you speak about it.

you wake up around noon hour the next day alone in your bed. there is a dull pain in your head still but it's defintely not as bad as it was the night before. you glance around your room, seeing your party dress thrown messily onto the floor. your blanket is tucked in at your sides as if you had been tucked in- and the only evidence that sunghoon was in your bed last night is the faint smell of his colgone on your pillow.

the first time that sunghoon and you hooked up during the week- and not after some random house party your friends would drag you to on the weekend- was only a few days after sunghoon had tucked you into bed before leaving an hour after you fell asleep with a drunk headache- a few days after he had complained about skating to you.

you were laying in your bed when you couldn't help but overhear sunghoon's mother lecturing him about how important it was for him to go every practice possible for him to get better. you heard a few grunts and mumbles from sunghoon in return, obviously not happy with the way his mother was being strict with him when it came to his sport.

you heard his balcony door slam shut and his mumbles got a bit louder. you stood up and opened your curtain, peeking out to see him leaning over the railing of his balcony. you could see the condensation in the air coming from his breath. the winter season had approached in your city, making everything colder and snow on the ground.

your movement had caught sunghoon's attention in the corner of his eye, realizing that you had been caught staring at him, you sheepishly open your balcony doors, stepping out onto your own balcony.

"hey." you spoke softly, wrapping your sweater around you to protect you from the cold.

"hi." sunghoon nodded at you, before returning his attention back to the street, watching a car drive by every now and then.

"are you okay?" you asked him after a moment of silence.

"yeah, just some skating stuff." sunghoon shrugs, "the usual shit."

"what's the usual shit?" you could see sunghoon tense for a moment at your question, not expecting for you to ask him about it.

"just- my parents think i'm better than i actually am."

"well i'm sure you're good, no? i see the medals all over your walls." you nod to his bedroom.

sunghoon smiles at your observation, "i'm okay. i've been having more bad skating days recently, it makes me think i'm actually bad at it."

"well maybe you should go to practice." you tease him, mocking his mothers words and making him groan. "how about you show me how bad you are at it then?"

sunghoon turns to look at you, raising an eyebrow, "have you even been skating before?"

"of course i have!" you defend yourself, "when i was like ten!"

sunghoon chuckles and leans on the balcony rail again, "fine, i'll take you tomorrow after dinner."

you ignore the weird feeling growing in your chest as he spoke, "ok!" you nodded at him, "i'll see you tomorrow then, hoon."

sunghoon smiles at his nickname, "night, y/n."

-

"okay, maybe this wasn't a good idea." you look at the frozen over pond nervously, trying to balance on the ice as you stood on the slippery surface, "is this even safe?"

"of course it is! i taught yewon how to skate here for years!" sunghoon laughed, grabbing a hold of your arm and trying to force your to move away from the side of the pond. "and i thought you said you knew how to skate! yewon is nine and skates way better than you!" he laughed when you gave him a scowl of hatred, knowing that if you were able to move that you'd hit him. "come on, y/n, don't chicken out on me! let's go."

"you go ahead! i'll be right here!" you said, gesturing with your hand that he should go.

sunghoon had known you for years and had never seen you nervous before. it was hilarious that something he was arguably better at than walking would be something that scared you so much.

"god, i didn't know you were going to be the biggest baby when i agreed to take you skating." sunghoon said with a tone of fake disappointment, skating towardrs you again.

"i am not being a baby! i didn't know you'd take me to some sketchy pond! what if we fall through?"

sunghoon laughed out loud at you, "we won't fall in! just trust me, let's go."

sunghoon continued to get you to skate with him, making you move your feet a little on the ice before you almost face planted on the ice, sunghoon's hand reaching quickly to catch your own hands- his warmth heating up your hands to match the warmth on your cheeks from embarrassment.

you must've looked ridicoulous to sunghoon as he skated backwards, trying to teach you how to skate. your legs started to feel like jelly. "it feels too weird, hoon!" you whined, concentrating too much on not falling.

"oh you're doing fine, y/n! when you think you got it, i can let go. you just need to bend forward a little bit, so you can build momentum!" sunghoon advised you.

when you finally made a full circle around the pond, sunghoon smirked teasingly again, "see you got it? wanna go for another round?"

"in a second, i don't want to hold you back. i can take a break while you do your tricks or whatever."

sunghoon threw his head back and laughed into the cold winter air, "my tricks or whatever?"

you returned his smile with a bright one of your own, almost laughing at his laugh. you watched him turn around nonetheless, skating a lot quicker than he was with you, doing spins and twirls and jumps for a few minutes before returning to you.

"what the hell were you talking about when you said you thought you were bad! that was so cool!" you cheered at him when he came to a complete stop beside you.

"thanks, means a lot coming from the girl who can barely stand on the ice." sunghoon said sarcastically.

"hey!" you nudged him, thankful that he was close enough for you to do that so you wouldn't have to try to move towards him.

"i'm kidding!" sunghoon laughed, grabbing your hand again and pulling you out to the middle of the pond, under the moonlight and street lamps.

truthfully, sunghoon couldn't hlep but apprecaite the moment with you. it had been a while since he had someone to skate with him other than his skating instructor. and although you had no idea how to skate, your compliments meant a lot to him- glad that he could impress you with something he did.

"what're you thinking about?" you asked, realizing he had zoned out while looking toward the trees surrounding 3/4ths of the pond.

"nothing much," sunghoon shrugged, "let's go for another round, you're really not that bad."

"hey!" you gasped again, making him smile as he stated skating backwards- your hands in his.

you had spent two hours skating with sunghoon, by the end of it, you managed to keep up with him and not need to hold onto his hands for dearlife.

sunghoon and you stood at the end of your meeting driveways. they both knew that something between them was different after the skating lesson. sunghoon thought you were pretty before, but now he thought you were beautiful. he had never felt a connection to someone like the one he was feeling that night.

"i had a fun time, sunghoon." you spoke, smiling up at him.

"me too, you're actually good now that you can stand." sunghoon joked, making you roll your eyes.

"yeah, thanks for teaching me and stuff." you suddenly felt shy as you stood in front of him.

"it's no problem, y/n."

"maybe we could go again and you can teach me how to do those spinning jumps!"

"i think you'd need more than one lesson before you try those ones." you pout up at his words playfully. "but i wouldn't mind going again with you."

the look of joy and relief on your face was obvious as he spoke. "okay, hoon. i'll see you at school tomorrow, right?"

"right, have a good sleep y/n."

"good night, sunghoon." you didn't want to but you turned and walked up your driveway, looking across your lawn to give him a small wave before walking into your house.

sunghoon stood on his porch after you went inside, wanting to hold onto this feeling for as long as he could.

-

a few days later, you had heard from his friends that sunghoon wasn't at school that certain day because he had a long skating practice. you felt less excited at school knowing that he wasn't there. you had started to look for sunghoon more and more in the hallways ever since he fingered you in the bathroom at yeonjun's party.

the memory of the way he looked so jealous and pissed when another boy layed a hand on you made a feeling in your chest that you had learned to enjoy. it was nice knowing that sunghoon cared if anyone else touched you. you liked to think that you would react the same way he did if another girl was touching him in public as well.

there had been no real conversation between you two about where your relationship still stood. both of you figured that the other one still wanted a strict friends with benefits one. you think at first that you liked the sound of that. it was fun hooking up with sunghoon- and you both liked your independence. but it was nice falling asleep so close to him the past weekend- the fuzzy feeling in your chest died out for awhile when you woke up to an empty bed.

granted, your parents would be pissed if they had woken up and found sunghoon- or any other boy- asleep in your bed with you. but you wished that you could've basked in his warmth for longer before you passed out from your drunk headache.

it let your imagination run wild as you thought of different scenarios of how you could wake up to sunghoon beside you everyday- in each one you woke up happy. it made you think of what a real romantic relationship with sunghoon could be like.

it also made you realize that sunghoon was definitely not a romantic relationship person.

you saw sunghoon come home that night, slamming his car door and storming up the porch steps to his house with a frown on his face.

sunghoon had mentionned a few times in passing to you how stressful skating got to him sometimes. his parents were pretty strict with his sport and encouraged him to go to every practice and competition that he could go to.

you gave it some time to think about how you could help sunghoon.

when you went up to your bedroom, you saw the sunghoon's bedroom light was on and his curtains were open. you could see him digging through his closet, probably looking for something to change into. you could tell from the way his back and shoulders were tensed up that he was still frustrated with something. it was something that you picked up on quickly from the amount of times he's took out his frustration with you.

which gave you an idea.

to : sunghoon 💙 do you need any help? :)

you watched sunghoon pull out his phone from his back pocket at the notification of your text. he turned and saw you out his window, a small smirk on his face as he walked towards the balcony, texting on his phone.

from sunghoon 💙 can't parents are home

sunghoon puts a pout on his face, his tense shoulders drooping low at the disappointment.

to : sunghoon 💙 you can be quiet, can't you?

sunghoon bit his lip, quirking his eyebrow up and pushing open his balcony doors.

"come in." he rolled his eyes at your playfully. you smiled brightly in return and left your bedroom, climbing over your balcony and onto his as he waited for you, leaning on the door frame.

almost instantly sunghoon pushed you against his balcony door once you were inside. his lips met yours in a rush that showed you how much he needed you. his hands slid from your ribcage to your hips, pulling your cores together.

you suddenly pushed him off of you, backing him up until he sat on his bed, his feet still on the groud. you stood inbetween his thighs as he looked up at you with a cocky smirk.

"what're you doing, baby?" he asked you, leaning back on his palms.

you reached your hand out and rubbed your thumb on his jaw, "don't you want my mouth on your cock tonight, baby?" you fake pouted at him. he nodded up at you, making a smile form on your lips instead, "then you're gonna listen to me, be the good boy i know you can be."

"y/n, i-" sunghoon is about to reject but you grip his jaw harder, a strict expression on your face making him shut up.

""you want my mouth, right baby?" he nodded, making you tsk at him.

"you need to speak, hoonie."

"yes." he nodded again, letting himself bask in your new nickname for him. you smirked down at him, your hand dropping from his jaw to his crotch, feeling the almost hard bulge in his pants. you started to massage his cock through his sweatpants, making his hips buck up at the sudden feeling.

"take your shirt off." sunghoon almost whined at the loss of your hand on him, but nonetheless, leaned back and slipped off his white shirt, revealing his pale, muscular chest. you got down on your knees, pulling down his sweatpants and boxers. his cock slapped against his thigh once it hit the air of his bedroom. his tip was turning red, the promienent vein on it's side was popping out.

"so pretty, hoonie." you took his cock in your hand, jerking it softly to harden it up more. you kissed the tip of it, making a soft inhale come from him in response.

sunghoon had pictured you sucking him off multiple times before, even when the two of you weren't hooking up. he never imagined that you'd take control over him as you did it.

you spit on his dick, a giant glob landing on the tip like you knew he liked. your fingers dipping into your spit, jerking his cock with your saliva now.

"fuck." sunghoon let out under his breath queitly.

"too much already, baby?"

"n-no, please keep going." you smiled up at him, taking his tip into your mouth, circling your tongue around it.

you caught the way sunghoon gripped his blanket underneath him at the feeling. you jerked your hand faster on the parts your mouth and tongue couldn't reach. he subconsciously jerked his hips upwards and into your mouth, making his dick reach further into your mouth.

your other hand started to roll his balls into your palm, making sunghoon bite down on his lip to keep quiet, knowing his parents were just down the hall. you smiled around his tip, your tongue tracing his sensitive slit.

"oh my god." he shook his head, liking the way that your saliva pooled at the corners of your mouth before you sucked it back up and sunk down on his cock again.

"you're being such a good boy, hoonie. so quiet, so obedient." you hummed around his tip, the vibrations from your voice echoing down his cock.

"oh god." sunghoon's face scrunched up, his hand coming to hold onto your hair. "c-close fuck." he whispered to you. your hand movements sped up on his cock and balls.

"please cum for me, baby, wanna taste your cum."

sunghoon threw his head back as he came. your sucking not stopping as you milked him through his high, wanting to swallow every drop of his cum and taste him fully. you didn't stop until he was pushing you off from the oversensitivity you were giving him.

"fuck y/n, stop. please. t-too much." he moaned quietly, looking down at you. you placed one last kiss on the tip of his pretty cock before standing up and plopping down on his bed beside him. you watched him bend over and slide his boxers and sweatpants back over his legs, before turning and smirking at you. "fuck you."

you smiled cheesily at him, "told you you were a sub."

"i am not." he defended himself quietly, pushing you back onto your back so he could lay beside you, one of his arms draping over your stomach. you could feel him catching his breath beside you, still coming down from his high as he rested his head on your shoulder.

"what're you doing, hoonie?" you asked him in a hushed tone.

"'m tired now, no one's ever called me a good boy before."

you laughed into your hand, loving this rare side of sunghoon- almost as if he was being clingy. you realized soon that his breaths had evened out onto your skin, him having fallen asleep from a stressful day and a hard orgasm.

his quiet breaths and the quiet night lulled you to sleep quickly before you had a chance to prevent it, only realizing what you had done when you woke up beside him in the morning. you didn't know what time it was, but you could hear his family awake downstairs and the smell of food wafting upstairs.

"sunghoon." you shook his arm that was still draped over you,"sunghoon!" he rolled off of you with a confused expression on his face, stretching his arm out as he looked around him.

"fuck." he looked at you with wide eyes once reality had set into his sleepy mind.

"sunghoon? are you awake?" his mother's voice called from the stairs, "you're going to be late for school."

"y-yeah! i am! give me a second!" sunghoon called out, ushering for you to get up and out the balcony doors. you felt your heart in your chest as you tiptoed around his room, wanting to get out of there quickly and quietly.

"sunghoon! what are you doing? you're never this late to be downstairs!" his mother's voice was closer this time, her foot steps being heard coming down the hall.

"shit! go go!" sunghoon held the door open for you, making sure that you got onto your balcony safely before he closed it and the curtains shut.

"sunghoon!" his mother opened the door, she scanned his room cautiously, staring at her shirtless son, "hurry up and get dressed, school starts in twenty minutes."

"yes, mom, sorry." he smiled at her, earning a suspicious smile from her before she closed his door again, a giant sigh leaving his mouth once she was gone.

sunghoon opened his curtain, peaking out to see you waving at him from your bedroom, he smiled at you and rolled his eyes, mentally cursing himself for not setting an alarm to wake up to.

one of your biggest regrets is not staying in bed with sunghoon for longer.

the days following when you gave sunghoon a blowjob were miserable. you cursed yourself for thinking that sunghoon would ever see you as anything more than a girl to hook up with. you cursed yourself for actually liking the cold hearted park sunghoon that kept everything to himself- hidden away from everyone.

you walk into school an hour after leaving sunghoon's house that morning, a happy feeling that you wish you could've felt for the rst of life, in your chest. you gleamed at everyone in the hallways- thoughts of sunghoon running through your mind.

you didn't notice until lunch hour that sunghoon hadn't shown up to school. when you walked up to the cafeteria table that your friends usually all sat at, your smile finally dropped at the lack of presence of park sunghoon. the boys had also thought it was weird that sunghoon had shown up, or event exted them beforehand saying that he wouldn't be at school for the day.

sunghoon's curtains were closed when you got home from school, and you could see that his lights were on through the cracks of the curtains. you texted him to ask if he was okay, but ultimately got no answer.

by the end of the night, when you were laying in bed for the night, you figured that sunghoon was probably tired from having a late night last night. and that everything was fine, and that you'd see your neighbour in the morning.

but of course, things with park sunghoon were never just fine.

for the rest of the week, it seemed that sunghoon had gone back to ignoring your presence, even worse than the times before. and it wasn't just affecting you now, but you're whole friend group. as soon as the two of you were even near each other, the whole rooom could feel the tension between you. you pretended like you didn't notice the awkward glances thrown to eachother as you stood in the hallway with your friends and sunghoon.

you had texted sunghoon again, asking if you had done anything, only for it to be unresponded to like before. you would see him come home after skating practice at the same time, his usual cold and calm composure resting on his face as he walked up to his house. sunghoon kept his curtains tightly shut, not once letting the sun in during the day, or the moonlight invading his room while he did late night homework.

on friday night, everytime you'd enter a room at the party house of the night, sunghoon would leave if he was in that room as well. he ignored every glance of yours, every eyebrow quirk until you couldn't take it anymore and drank more than you should've. but drinking was the only thing you could do to forget the horrible week that you were having because of your neighbour.

as you kept drinking, you imagined sunghoon coming over and stopping you. admiting that he's an asshole for everything he's done recently and taking you back to his house, where'd you lay together in his bed again- and this time you'd wake up together and lay there for hours with soft smiles on your faces. but sunghoon didn't stop you.

you hadn't noticed that sunghoon had even left the party until heeseung and chaehyun were helping you get into the back of dayeon's car. you layed in the back of the cold leather seats as dayeon and chaehyun were in the front. the memory of how heeseung stayed with chae in the back a few months ago when she was too dunk replayed in your mind and made you sob outloud. you wished that sunghoon was in the back with you, letting you rest your drunk head on his lap as he brushes your hair out of your face until you get home.

dayeon and chaehyun didn't know what to do. they had never seen you drink so much to the point where you cry. they had never even seen you just cry before either. you wree usually their shoulder to lean on, you were the strong friend, the friend that always helped everyone with their problems because you never had any of your own.

they had seen you crack more and more everyday since you had been hooking up with sunghoon. they realized as soon as you told them about sunghoon that he was the first boy that you chased, rather than the other way around. they realized that sunghoon was different for you, whether you realized it or not.

park sunghoon wasn't just some boy you wanted to hook up, he wasn't just your friend or neighbour- he was the boy you fell in love with.

and it scared you to think that you had fallen for someone who didn't love you back- that couldn't love you back.

you remember chaehyun and dayeon putting you to bed quietly, trying to soothe your cries. they knew if they asked why you were crying that you wouldn't tell them. you were stubborn and private and it was those characteristics of yourself that you saw in sunghoon- and you hated them. you wished that sunghoon would open up to you- comminucate to you about how he was feeling and why he was doing the things he was doing to you. but you couldn't blame him, because you don't tell him how you're feeling either.

you go to a party the next night, after waking up that morning with swollen eyes and lips from crying yourself to sleep. chaehyun and dayeon kept an eye on you for the first half of the party- obviously aware that you weren't doing too well mentally. they figured that it had something to do with sunghoon, by the glances you had been giving him all week- and crying when you realized he had left without you the night before.

you felt bad at first when you realized that your friends were babysitting you at the party, seeing the way heeseung and chaehyun obviously wanted to be alone with each other and that dayeon didn't want to come to a party tonight anyways.

you drank more when you realized that sunghoon wasn't even coming to the party tonight. with each drink you wondered more about who you were becoming- going to parties for a specfic boy and drinking to forget him.

you ended up leaving the party before anyone else, taking a cab home and texting dayeon that you were fine as you left, finally escaping from the overprotective care of your friends.

you smiled politely at eth cab driver as he dropped you off, wishing a good night before you closed the door and watched him drive off again. when you turned to head up your driveway, a body standing on the porch next door caught your eye.

sunghoon was standing there, his back turned to you as he started to unlock his front door.

"where have you been?" you called out to him, taking in his outfit of jeans and a tshirt. he turned at the sound of your voice, lettting his hand of keys drop to the side as he took in your own appearance.

"skating." sunghoon shrugged, "where have you been?"

you took a few steps towards his house, stopping at the bottom of his porch steps to look up at the pretty boy, "a party, i thought you'd be there, but of course i was wrong."

sunghoon realized as the way you slurred your words that you were drunk, "what do you mean?"

you shrugged, kicking your feet on the pavement, "im always wrong when it comes to you." his silence after your statement made you talk more, "i never know what's going on with you. one second you're calling me yours and complimenting me and getting mad when other guys touch me, but the next second you're ignoring me and pretending you don't know me!" you held back a sob as you finally told sunghoon how you had been feeling this entire time, "and if you don't want to do this," your finger pointing between both your bodies, "then just tell me! because i'm tired of guessing what you want and ending up wrong!"

sunghoon feels his chest tighten at your confession, not realizing just how much he had been hurting you. he never realized that you could be hurt, always walking around so strong and smiling and making everyone's day with your humour and outgoingness. but he was wrong about you.

"fine, let's break this up."

sunghoon's words split your cracked heart into two separete pieces, "r-really?" you prayed that you. heard him wrong- that your drunk mind was playing tricks on you.

"yeah, you're right this time y/n. i don't want this anymore." he looked down at your small figure in your pretty party dress, your cheeks pink from the alcohol and night breeze. he so badly wanted to wrap you up in his jacket, keep you warm beside him, but he knew this was for the best as he still saw a little bit of hope in your glossy eyes, "i don't want you anymore."

and then your glossy eyes that he's looked into so many times weren't looking at him anymore, and it made him wonder if they'd ever look at him again.

"fuck you, sunghoon." were your final words to him as you stomped over his lawn and into your house, managing to hold back your tears until you got to your bedroom.

your curtains were open, letting the moonlight in and hope that sunghoon would be at the balcony, waiting for you. the thought made you slam your curtains closed, never wanting to open them again.

you didn't have enough energy to change out of your dress, too devasted that you had allowed yourself to be played by park sunghoon- the quiet, shy dorky boy that sat in the back of the class in your freshman year- the boy that everyone asumed was an innocent virgin that would never do anything to hurt anyone. you were so wrong about him and about everything, that you wanted to sleep until you didn't think about him anymore. you only wanted to wake up once your mind and body had forgotten about park sunghoon. when no longer knew the way his lips tasted, the way his cheeks get puffy when he wakes up and the way his laugh sounds when he throws his head back.

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

sunghoon wasn't too surprised when he found out you weren't at school on monday. guilt and sadness were the only things he could feel at the way he had been treating you- at the memory of your last words to each other.

he wasn't too surprised when chaehyun and dayeon had started giving him dirty looks in the hallways on tuesday. he figured that you would tell them what had happened sooner rather than later. hopefully, chaehyun didn't hate him too much though, because it would be kinda of awkward at heeseung's parties if his girlfriend- or whatever they were- hated his best friend.

sunghoon wasn't surprised when it had been thursday night and he hadn't received one text form you all week. when he hadn't seen your smile, or heard your laugh in the hallways, or caught you staring at him through your windows as he changed for school. he had figured that he had hurt you enough for you to get over him quickly- at least that's what he hoped.

it had only shocked sunghoon when you hadn't shown up to the party on friday night.

dayeon and chaehyun cursed sunghoon for looking so held together throughout the week at school- as if he hadn't just told their best friend that he didn't want her anymore. he had to have known that he meant something more than a fuck buddy to you, especially after you had just confessed to hm about how he had been making you feel for months.

chae and dayeon made a pact to not tell you how well sunghoon had been looking, while you were surrounded with used tissues in your bed. you had told your parents that you were sick, which wasn't too hard to believe since you looked and sounded sick from the amount of crying you had been doing.

it was all too much for you. you feel like you had lost yourself complettely over the past months and you had no idea until it was too late. your past self would have never let you get so caught up on one boy- no matter how good he smelt, how wonderful he tasted and how hard he made you laugh.

whether sunghoon liked it or not, you had chipped away at his cold, shy exteriror within those months that you two were fuck buddies. you realized how kind and caring he was, how well he took care of his little sister and friends, how protective he was over you and made sure you were okay. those memories you had of him did nothing to make you remember last saturday night. those awful words he said to you only rang loosely in your mind as his soft whispers on early mornings were louder.

it hit sunghoon the moment chaehyun and dayeon had walked in together friday night, you no where to be seen.

"what's that look for?" dayeon popped her hip and crossed her arms as she looked at sunghoon with an annoyed face.

"y/n's not here?"

chaehyun scoffed beside dayeon, "why the hell would she be here?"

"what does that mean?" jake chimed in from the couch, confused as to why there was so much tension between the three of them at the mention of you. "i thought y/n was sick."

chaehyun scoffed again as she sat down beside heeseung who looked as equally as confused.

"didn't your bro sunghoon tell you what he did to y/n?" dayeon hissed to jake, her cold eyes not leaving sunghoon as she spoke.

"no?" jake shook his head slowly, "what the hell did you do?"

"oh y'know, just broke her heart." chaehyun said with a scowl on her face. heeseung grabbed her hand at the tone of her voice, trying to calm her down gently.

"what?" jake asked, "you guys- were dating?"

"no!" sunghoon said immediately, "we weren't!"

dayeon scoffed again, "god sunghoon, you are so clueless!"

"what do you mean?"

"it was so obvious that y/n liked you! she wanted to be with you! and all you do is tell her that you don't want her! like she's some pest!"

the cold stares from dayeon and chaehyun and the confused stares from his friends were becoming too much for him. the party music becoming too loud for him to process any words to say, only scoffing himself and turning on his heel away from them. he grabbed a bottle of vodka and pushed open the backdoor, needing some fresh air away from it all.

sunghoon had been beating himself up ever since you had agreed to become fuck buddies with him. he knew that you didn't deserve to be in a relationhip like that with him- or to even be in a bed with him. he thinks he was counting down the days until you realized that and left him to the side, alone.

there hadn't been a day that sunghoon hadn't thought of you since the beginning of the school year. he wishes that he could've been more open with you about his feelings- but he's sure wasted it now. the way your friends had confronted him was pure evidence about the way you were feeling about him the past week.

sunghoon had tried to persuade himself that he had done the right thing by breaking it all off with you. you didn't deseve to be with a guy like him. he was shy, cold, and private and quiet, sometimes too afraid to make eyecontact with people. while you were pretty, and outgoing, confident, and strong and so nice to everyone that you ever meet.

he knew that if anyone would see the two of you together that it would be a nightmare. no one would believe that the two of you were dating from the different worlds that you come from- the different reputations that surrounded your names.

sunghoon wanted to be with you, wanted to hold your hand as you walk down the halls, leave hickeys down your neck so everyone would know you were his, wanted to just spend time with you and learn everything about you and more. sunghoon curses himself for being too insecure about himself- knowing that if you ever found out about the way he thinks of himself that you would turn your nose up in disgust.

you were out of his league in every aspect, and he knew it from the start.

sunghoon didn't realize just how much he had drank of the vodka until his sight had become blurry. he rested his head on the porch railing, trying to center himself.

"hoon?" heeseung's voice called out from the back door, "are you okay?"

as soon as sunghoon turned his head to look at him, heeseung could tell that sunghoon was drunk, and he had never seen sunghoon drunk before.

"okay, let's sit, hoon." heeseung took hurried steps toward his friend, ushering him over to a chair. "are you okay?"

"no." sunghoon admitted, not being able to look at his friend. he's known heeseung since they were little, they met in grade one and had become best friends since then.

over the years, they had gotten to know each other so well. they knew each other's deepest secrets that not even jake or jay knew. sunghoon has not only been feeling guilty for what he had done and said to you, but for what he's been doing to heeseung recently.

sunghoon has been so caught up in skating and you that he's abandonned his friends. he could tell that everytime he left a party early to go back home with you, heeseung would get a certain look on his face. an expression that sunghoon knew meant heeseung was disappointed.

sunghoon knew that heeseung liked going to parties that sunghoon was at. jake and jay were the extraverts in their little friend group. they liked to get up on tables and dance, they liked to play beer pong with anyone and everyone, they liked to talk as many girls as they could during the night.

meanwhile, sunghoon and heeseung would sit back on the couch, enjoying watching their friends make fools of themselves. they liked listening to the shitty music together and picking out the hottest girl at the party that night. sunghoon always knew that heeseung thought chaehyun was the hottest, and would always smirk to himself when heeseung would pick some other girl while his eyes were still glued to chae.

sunghoon's been too caught up on his own shit, that he doesn't even know if heeseung and the girl that he's liked fo ryears are dating. he's known that he should ask him, chae and hee are always together now a day, but he never finds the energy or motivation to ask.

"what's been bothering you, hoon?" heeseung asked gently, never knowing how sunghoon is going to react when you try to pry into his personal life. when sunghoon stays silent heeseung's not surprised, even if sunghoon is drunk- he's still self aware to not just spill whatever he's feeling. "i didn't know that you and y/n had been hooking up, i'm sorry about that. i should've asked."

sunghoon scoffs at how nice his best friend is- he's too nice that he won't even admit that sunghoon has been hurting him for months too. "i should've asked about you and chae. i'm sorry, i just-" sunghoon pauses, leaning his forehead onto his palm, trying ot process his feelings into words- something that he's never been good at.

"it's fine, i knew you wanted to ask." heeseung shrugs, taking a sip out of the almost empty bottle of vodka that sunghoon had brought out. "when you first told us that you had hooked up with y/n, was the the first time, or?"

sunghoon nodded, "yeah, it was." sunghoon almost smiles as he remembers the guys all gasping and asking him how it was.

"and then, the last time was last week?"

"yeah, last tuesday."

"what made you want to stop?"

sunghoon sighed, "i never wanted to stop- but we had to." he took heeseung's silence as a sign to continue carefully, "you know how we both are hee, it wouldn't have worked out."

"i think it would've." sunghoon quirks an eyebrow up at heeseung in confusion making heeseung laugh, "well, you both liked eachother and spent time together, right?" sunghoon sits up straight at the mention of liking each other- trying to plaster a disgusted look on his face. "hoon," heeseung stated seriously, "it's okay that you like y/n, we all kinda knew anyways."

"you could tell?" sunghoon's eyes widened.

"yeah," heeseung shrugged, "i mean, we didn't know you were hooking up all the time, but just by the way you'd look around the room until you found y/n, and then you'd always stare at her until you disappeared with her somewhere."

"oh." sunghoon nodded, thinking about it.

"plus that time you almost shot lazers with your eyes at yeonjun when he was sitting with y/n." heeseung caught the way sunghoon smiled gently at the mention of that party. "i know you still like y/n, hoon. and we both know how nice and understanding she is. so i think, if you go and tell her how you feel- how you really feel- she'll probably forgive you."

sunghoon turned his head to the side, a scoff leaving his mouth, "i can't, hee, it's embarrassing to talk about that shit."

"it's not. especially if it it's y/n it's not- and you know that."

"i still can't hee. it's better we aren't together. she deserves to be with someone else- someone like jake or jay- someone like her." sunghoon is still adament to forget everything he ever had with you- everything he's ever felt for you.

"but i think you're like her." heeseung can see that sunghoon is about to defend his statement again, "you're both realistic, and strong and understanding- you're both funny and extra warm to the people close to you. i know how you can be towards yourself, hoon, and it shouldn't stop what's between you and y/n."

sunghoon nods gently, playing with his fingers in his lap. "she's still out of my league, heeseung." sunghoon speaks softly now, the verbal mention of his self insecurity wrapping around his body and vocal cords.

"she's not- that's something society has created and you can't let it affect you. just talk to her, hoon, you'll see it'll all be okay. trust me."

chaehyun explaining to you what heeseung had talked to sunghoon about at the party only made you feel worse.

it made you feel like sunghoon didn't trust you like you had thought he did. it made you angry that sunghoon cared so much about what others thought about him and you and a relationship between you two. it made you want to crawl away into a world where there was no one else except for you and sunghoon where maybe then you could be together happily.

you had gone to school the next week, keeping to yourself and dayeon and chaehyun. you kept your curtains closed, wondering if sunghoon would notice it. you thought that maybe heeseung had talked some sense into sunghoon- quietly thinking that any second now, sunghoon is going to text you to come over, and he'll confess everything to you. or that maybe he'll knock on your balcony doors, push you on your bed and tell you to listen to him explain himself. in whatever the case would be- you knew that you would cave in and forgive him- because you knew that sunghoon was complicated- you knew that everything he said or did was carefully calculated.

but there was nothing from him all week. just the same radiosilence you had been dealing with for the past three weeks.

so you were pissed. and you were feeling more like yourself again even though sunghoon's name was still carved into your heart. so, you went out to party with your friends on friday night.

it had been two weeks since you had caught up with all of your friends. all of them happy to see you back in the atmohpshere that you belonged in. almost instantly, you were back to what you had always done- to what you had done before you started hooking up with sunghoon.

you danced with jake and jay and played beer pong with them. you gossipped with all the girls and took shots with them. you had almost completely forgotten about sunghoon for the night.

when intak, a boy from your grade who you had talked to a few times at a couple of parties, joined behind you to dance, you didn't think much of it. he was cute, and he his strong hands on your hips distracted you from everything else- only trying to following his movements to the beat of the music.

of course, that scene wasn't something sunghoon wanted to first walk into the party and see.

"fuck." jake groaned from beside sunghoon, obviously seeing the scene as well and knowing that sunghoon was going to be pissed.

all day, jake, jay and heeseung were persuading sunghoon to come out and party with them tonight. they could tell that sunghoon was still caught up with how he ended things with you and wanted him to have fun tonight. his friends had barely seen him since last weekend's party where he got completely shit faced. sunghoon spent his entire week at the skating rink- practicing every jump and spin and trick he could think of until his whole body was bruised from falling and musicles were strained.

his friends were happy when he finally caved in and told them that he would come, if only for twenty minutes even. the party had only started an hour ago, and walking in to find you with a red solo cup in your hand and your ass grinding against intak was something that made him almost punch every wall in the house and storm out.

heeseung caught the way sunghoon's hands clenched into fists at his side, "sunghoon, don't." but it was too late for a warning, sunghoon was making his way right towards you and intak. "sunghoon!" jake and jay had joined heeseung into calling for their friend to come back.

even through the music and intak's whispered voice in your ear, you heard the calls of your neighbours name. your eyes opened and turned towrds the sound, finding sunghoon's angry eyes in a second.

"hoon?" his nickname rolled off your tongue for the first time in week before his hand was wrapped around your wrist, pulling you away from intak. "sunghoon what the fuck?" your head turned back to intak, giving him an apologetic look as you were pulled away from him. sunghoon ignored your questions until he had pushed you into the bathroom, locking the door once both of you were inside.

"what the fuck are you doing, sunghoon?" you looked pissed as you leaned against the bathroom counter- and sunghoon had to push the thoughts away of how hot you looked when you were pissed.

"what the fuck are you doing?" sunghoon repeated to you.

"having fun." you raised your eyebrows and spoke in an obvious tone. sunghoon brushed his fingers through his hair to get his bangs out of his face, you could tell from his expression that he had a lot on his mind.

"with intak?" he paused to speak with his hand still in his hair.

"yeah, didn't you see it?"

sunghoon chuckled at your brattyness, walking over to you then, dropping his hand from his hair to place on the counter behind you, trapping you in. "so you were you planning on leaving with him?"

you could hear the dominance growing in sunghoon's voice, and if you weren't so weak for sunghoon then maybe you would've lasted longer standing up for yourself. "if he wanted to." you saw his eyes look behind your head into the mirror, grin growing on his lips before returning his gaze back to you. his hands meet your hips and turn you around.

"look at that." sunghoon's deep voice is in your ear as he speak, "look in the mirror, little one." you do as he demands, your gaze meeting the way his body is pushed up against your own. the two of you look so perfectily dirty with each other, the type of way that makes you drool without realize it.

sunghoon's thigh is placed inbetween your thighs, feeling the way your cunt grinds down onto it at the sight of you two pushed together. "you see how pretty you are, baby? pretty just for me, right?"

"y-yes, sir." you nod, not being able to take your eyes off of the mischievius look he's giving you in the mirror.

"i haven't fucked you in a while, i think i need to show you who you belong to, again." you only nod in response, reaching behind you to grip onto his shirt, pulling him closer if possible. you're sure that if sunghoon and you were in the middle of a 'fight' then he would've spanked you for not answering and for touching him without permission. but the both of you just need each other, the both of you are too caught up in eachother's gaze.

"please fuck me, sir."

sunghoon's hand grips onto your jaw, holding your head up so he can kiss down your neck, his eyes never leaving yours as he bites harshly, surely leaving a mark this time- the feeling leaving you feeling as if you're floating. "such a good girl now, huh? using your manners to ask to be fucked. maybe if i leave few marks on your skin you'll remember that you're mine."

your core continues to grind against his thigh as he continues to bite into your skin, leaving red and purple marks- marking you as his for you, him and everyone else to know.

when he decides that you have enough on your skin, he's pulling away from you, a whine leaving your throat before he's pushing up your dress and yanking your panties down your legs. you can see your bare core in the mirror, and the way sunghoon's face is a mix of awe and adoration as he looks at your bare skin, before meeting your eyes with a soft smile- contrasting so well compared to everything else the two of you had been doing for the past minutes.

"please, sunghoon," his name leaving your mouth makes his heart swell, realizing then how bad he's missed you and how bad he needs you.

"okay, baby, okay." he presses a kiss into your head, smelling your perfume and shampoo as he unbuckles his belt, and pulls his cock out of his pants. he's already fully hard and red as he pumps his cock. youmove your hips out so he can line his cock up with your core easier.

sunghoon slips easily into you, making you think that you were made for him, fitting together like puzzle pieces although the two of you are so physically and personally different.

you almost cry outloud when you see how wet his cock is with your juices when he pulls out, the light from the bathroom making his cock shiny in the mirror's reflection.

"fuck, i missed you." sunghoon groaned into your shoulder from behind you. you nod in response, agreeing with him with more than anything.

you know that you'd be knocked down over the bathroom's counter if sunghoon wasn't holding your body up and close to him. his cock was stuffing you full to your hilt, too face. sunghoon doesn't give you a chance to breathe, wanting you to feel right here, right now, just how much he has missed you. sunghoon's enjoying the time with you, enjoying your moans and gazes in the mirror.

you find yourself growing close to your orgasm faster than ever as you watch the two of you fall apart in the mirror.

"fuck, hoon, so close."

sunghoon nods into your hair, his gaze remaining soft as he kisses your head and pounds into you harder. "that's okay, baby, wet my cock with your cum, wanna feel you tighten around me so bad."

your body starts to arch in his hold, your orgasm finally hitting you. his cock starts to hammer into you, wanting to cum right after you. the way his speed and tip of his cock keeps hitting your gspot makes your eyes roll to the back of your head. sunghoon groans at the sight of you in the mirror from the unintentional overstimulation.

it's too much but you can't speak- can't tell him to stop- just want to take it for him because you missed being so close to him- missed hearing his groans in your ear and feeling his warm hands on your hips.

sunghoon bites down onto your shoulder hard when he comes, covering his moan and leaving a final mark on your body from his teeth. a whimper of your name leaves his mouth as he pulls out of you, his cock limp and wet and aching to be back inside of you already.

both of you lean against eachother and the bathroom counter, pressing lazy kisses into eachother skin. "i meant it, y/n." sunghoon speaks after a while, his voice still sounding breathless.

"meant what?" you raised an eyebrow at him.

"that you're mine, that i missed you." your gazes lock in the mirror again, sweat lining your hairlines.

"i missed you, too, sunghoon." you nod at him with a soft smile.

"yeah?" he turns his face into your hair, closing his eyes to relish in the moment for longer.

"yeah," your head comes up to rest in his hair, "let's go home, now."

you felt sunghoon nod against your head, grabbing towel paper to clean both of you up before you're taking a cab together back to your houses.

it remains silent between you and sunghoon for majority of the time it takes to get back into his bedroom, quietly to not wake his parents like usual. though nothing is said, you're attached to eachother by holding hands in the back of the cab ride, staring out opposite windows, watching you drive through the late, night city together.

you whisper to eachother as you get dressed into his sweatpants and shirt to sleep in, watching him get dressed in his own pair in the moonlight in his room.

you continue to whisper hushed confessions to eachother as you lay in his bed, facing eachother under his blanket, your heads meshed together on one pillow like they were a few weeks ago in the house next door.

sunghoon's pale fingers are tracing shapes onto your arms as he tells you how he feels about you. tells you that you're the prettiest girl he's ever met- that you're the only girl he's ever wanted to be with- that you're the only person he sees himself with in the future.

sunghoon struggles to keep eye contact with you as he tells you everything- how he's been beating himself up ever since he agreed to be friends with benefits with you. how he pushed you away because he was scared you were going to realize he was no good for you.

he mumbles his apologizes against your lips as you kiss him, hoping to take some of his pain away when his voice cracks. you wrap your arms around him in his bed when a tear rolls down his cheek when he confesses his insecurities to you- how you help take them away from him when he's with you.

you fall asleep wrapped in eachothers arms, lips swollen from kissing, eyes bloodshot from drinking and crying together, hearts full with nothing but eachother.

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

you wake up saturday morning to soft snores in your ear and a warm arm draped over your waist. you realize that you're still in sunghoon's bedroom. you see the dozens of skating medals hung on his walls, next to pictures of him and heeseung from when they were younger.

you don't realize that sunghoon woke up from your subtle movements until his arm is tightening around you and pulling you closer.

"you awake?" sunghoon's deep voice asks, placing a kiss on the back of your neck when you nod your head against his pillow.

his hold of you loosens when you turn over so that you're now facing him. his arm going back into place and pushing your bodies together again. you're both still naked, and a little sweaty as you greet each other.

you're sure if anyone were to walk into his bedroom that they would be faced with the smell of alcohol, sex, sweat and sunghoon's cologne.

sunghoon moves his head down to press a kiss onto your forehead, mumbling a soft, "i'm sorry." against your skin.

"i know." you smile at him, "it's okay."

a subtle frown grows on sunghoon's face at how quick you are to forgive, "it's not, i want to tell you how i feel- but it's hard."

your hand moves from inbetween your bodies to his cheek, your thumb brushing under his eye, "it's okay, you can take your time," you reassure him, "plus heeseung already told chaehyun what you said."

"oh god." sunghoon groans, turning his head away from you to mush it into his pillow, "he didn't."

"he did." you giggle, your hand carding through his black hair. "i'm not out of your league, hoon. really. i love you for you, even if you are a little stubborn sometimes."

"just a little?" he moves his head so you could see his eye looking at you.

"ok, maybe a lot. but i still love you."

sunghoon pulls you into him then, so your upper body is resting on his chest as he lays on your back. you let out a quiet squeal at the sudden motion. "i love you, too y/n. i'm still sorry, i'm going to show you how sorry i am for the rest of my life."

you shake your head with a smile, "it's really okay, hoon. we'll just talk about how we feel rather than you pretend i don't exist, yeah?"

"yeah, ok." sunghoon scrunches his nose playfully.

you lean down and place a kiss onto his lips, his grip on your hips tightening as he kisses you back. it's a kiss with no tongue and passion and you feel both of your worries floating off of your skin as it feels like it's only the two of you in the world- in sunghoon's bed.

sunghoon pulls away with a disgusted look on his face, "ew, morning breath."

"sunghoon!" you gasp, grabbing a pillow from beside him and throwing it at him.

"i'm kidding! i'm kidding!" sunghoon laughs and throws the pillow away so he can look at you again, "i love even your awful morning breath!"

"oh my god!" you try to push up and away from him, a playful gasp coming from your mouth. your movements don't go very far until sunghoon is pushing you onto your back, kissing all over your face while you laugh. "sunghoon!" you whine out to him until he stops.

he looks down at you with a serious look then, "you're mine, right?"

your chest is heaving from laughing so hard, "of course. and you're mine?"

"of course. only yours." sunghoon nods firmly, before a smirk grows on his face and he's leaning down to kiss you again, not pulling away for a few minutes, both of you wanting to enjoy being each others for as long as possible.

or until yewon starts knocking on his bedroom door asking for him to play dolls with her.

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

walking into school holding hands with sunghoon on the monday after you two started dating, wasn't as bad as the both of you thought it would be.

there were no stares from other students, there was no teasing from your friends as sunghoon kissed you on the cheek before heading to class, and when both of you shared your lunch in the cafeteria no one batted an eye.

it was as if the whole school had thought you were dating even before you had been.

"i told you," heeseung said as he sat down beside sunghoon in the cafeteria, "everyone already kinda knew." shrugging his shoulders playfully before wrapping an arm around chaehyun.

"shut it, heeseung." sunghoon rolled his eyes, biting into his red apple, making everyone at the table laugh.

during the last class of the day, shen xiaoting made her way to your desk before the class started.

"so is it true, y/n? did you take park sunghoon's virginity?"

@ taeghi, 2022. do not repost or reuse in anyway.

PLEASE REBLOG IF YOU ENJOY, AS LIKES MAKE IT HARD FOR WORK TO BE SPREAD AND ENJOYED BY OTHERS :)

stay safe everyone :)

#i can’t believe i haven’t reblogged this yet !! #lost count of how many times i’ve reread this #so so good 😭 #the part where they’re confessing to eachother near the end honestly gave me butterflies #defo a fav #park sunghoon : the boy next door trope #taeghi #park sunghoon #ice prince

[sleepingrenjun]

cherry pits - psh

pairing ↬ dilf!sunghoon x afab!reader

17. “god, can’t you see what you do to me?”

requested by anon - hope you like this !! and i hope you dont mind me making hoon a dilf adijsj

synopsis ↬ There were a lot of things you hadn’t expected for your summer. You hadn’t expected to need a job to pay your girls’ trip to Mexico, yet here you were, standing behind the counter of your town’s hardware store. You hadn’t expected the cherry trees you’d planted a couple of summers to grow so well, yet here you were, having to make pies and jams from their fruit every week so that they wouldn’t spoil. You definitely hadn’t expected the finest man you’d ever laid your eyes upon to walk into the store on a random Wednesday, nor for him to be your new neighbor that had bought and was renovating the old house next door to yours, or that he was also a single dad to a 8-year-old girl, yet here he was, standing in all his glory in front of you, telling you he wanted you as much as you wanted him. What a summer indeed.

genre ↬ smut, fluff, angst if you squint, summer au (yes again), dilf au lol, not much of an age gap though, s2l, neighbors au

warnings ↬ MDNI! smut (making out, oral m and f receiving, fingering, handjob, vaginal penetration, hoon is on the dom side but no crazy d/s dynamics, pet names, cum play, creampie), mentions of food and alcohol, if there’s anything i missed pls tell me, also not fully proofread, i skimmed over some parts so pls lmk if anything seems wrong!

word count ↬ 13,055

permanent taglist ↬ @skzenhalove​ @wntrsgf​ @duolingofanaccount​ @bunhoons​ @lshng @hyunjinsr​ @valentineyun0​ (ask to be added!)

author’s note ↬ hello yes i know this is my third hoon summer fic in a row and guess what !!!! its not my last !!!! yes you heard right my next fic will also be a hoon summer fic bc i have a collab and i picked him for it . anyways i hope you will like this one personally me i had a lot of fun writing it so i hope you guys will enjoy reading it !!!!! as always feedback is very much appreciated and by that i mean that i cry tears of happiness every time someone leaves a comment or a reblog with fb or sends an ask about my fics. so pls make me happy! lol ok bye <3 oh and also the hoon pics i chose for the header don’t fit the vibe really but that’s okay

YOU’D ALWAYS WONDERED about the ratio of cherry to pit. Such a big pit for so little flesh, wasn’t it? Yet that never stopped you from biting into the small fruit, eating what you could and spitting out the unwanted part. You actually rather enjoyed this whole process. Bite, eat, spit. You could repeat this with huge bowls of cherries at a time until they upset your stomach and you had to stop for your own good.

Keep reading

#i read this a few days ago and have probs reread it like 2-3 times already #i loveddd the slow burn #made everything seem more intense and exciting when sunghoon and reader couldn’t hold back anymore #also loved the backstory !! #good job author !! #long fics for the win <3 #cherry pits #asahicore #park sunghoon #ice prince

[sleepingrenjun]

pretty girl ➟ sim jaeyun. 18+

SYNOPSIS ✶ in which you and your dopey, obnoxious boyfriend sim jaeyun decide to go out on what should have been a peaceful friday night. though when you successfully leave him dumbfounded at what’s hiding under that pair of denim shorts snug tight on your hips, the night turns out to be just the opposite.

[ word count: 5.7k ]

PAIRING ✵ sim jaeyun x reader

GENRE ✵ fluff, smut

WARNINGS ✵ sexual content

a/n: helloooo everyone B-) back with another nsfw piece this time for jake ;) sexual content is ahead so minors pls don’t interact!! i hope you guys like this one, i had it in my drafts forever tbh T^T. all interactions are deeply appreciated but reblogs are highly encouraged! :> tread with caution, & happy reading! ♡

“took you guys long enough.” heeseung smacks his palm against the plastic table in the middle of the mall food court, where he sits to await you and your boyfriend’s presence. his teasing eyebrows raise up high above his eyes as he watches you and your boyfriend jake approach his lonesome figure.

you give the boy a teasing glare, clutching your plastic bags full of clothes in your firm grip. “hey,” you hear your boyfriend beside you, an amused grin spread across his pearly teeth. he slips his palm out of the back pocket of your denim shorts. “you can’t say anything, you spent like two hours in the lego store.”

heeseung snorts, watching the two of you pull out the metal chairs in front of him. “okay, but i bought like one thing. y/n, how much money have you spent so far?” heeseung asks you amusingly, leaning his back against the chair and draping his arm over the top of the seat beside him.

your cheeks heat up as you snag the handles of your bags over the edge of your chair, scooting your seat further up to the table. “uh, i don’t know. not that much, heeseung.” you tell the boy, a teasing smile curving up your lips.

“what’d you buy at the lego store?” jake nods beside you, furrowing his eyebrows in heeseung’s direction. you watch your boyfriend as he adjusts the black beanie thrown over his chocolate curls, the edge of his lip ticking up his cheek slightly.

“do you want to see?” heeseung asks him with an excited grin spreading across his face, his chain earrings dangling against his jawline. you groan and roll your eyes at the boy’s childish interest, watching as heeseung leans over in his chair to fetch his lego store bag placed onto the floor.

“hell yeah, i do.”

you lean over into the table, placing your chin into the center of your palm. you watch mindlessly as heeseung begins talking about the lego bat-mobile set he’s placed on the table, your mind in a devious, far away place. as you sit there and gaze at heeseung’s toy, you can’t help but wonder if jake’s noticed. he’s had his palm hooked into your back pocket the whole time you were inside the clothing stores, hoping, even praying for maybe a little realization from your boyfriend.

maybe a little, y/n… are you wearing underwear? or, y/n…. are you wearing a — thong? with that dopey, red, flustered expression across his structured face. but no. you thought for sure with the shortness of your shorts and just how tight they clung to all the right places in your thighs, that he would have noticed. he should have noticed the absence of lining beyond the denim. with his hand basically pressed to your bare asscheek, he completely disregarded any curious thoughts to your wardrobe and gazed aimlessly at the variety of anime t-shirts that littered the walls. great. amazing. awesome, even. you were disappointed, that’s for sure, your mind even toying with a little, maybe he’s not in the mood. but you mentally laugh at that conclusion, knowing your boyfriend was always in the mood. so what could it possibly be?

so as you drift off into an aisle inside your next clothing store stop, you make sure no one else is beside you as you turn towards your boyfriend. “oh, jake,” you begin in a hushed tone, averting your attention towards the circular rack of clearance clothes in front of you. you pluck out a long sleeved crop top, holding up the piece of clothing in front of you. “is this cute?”

you watch as your boyfriend rests his elbow on top of the rounder, his eyebrows raised into his forehead. “it’s cute.” he mumbles to you with a slight curve to his plush lips, his eyes subtly rolling down your figure. “i think it would look cute with these shorts.” he follows right after, leaning over to you to pull the waistband of your shorts slowly, letting it softly snap back against your hip.

you look down at your shorts hesitantly, a slight heat creeping up your neck. “oh, do you?” you ask him innocently, turning around so he’s exposed to your ass. “these shorts are kinda…. a little tight on me. don’t you think?”

“yeah but,” jake begins with a pretty, wide grin to his tan cheeks. “they look good on you.” he softy shrugs, further leaning his side into the rounder. “so it doesn’t matter.” you blink at your boyfriend a couple times to really study him, wondering if there’s any sort of lustful attraction hidden behind those glossy, brown orbs. when he snaps his gaze back up at your face, lifting his eyebrows in reply to your devilish stare, your heart sinks when you notice he’s not phased.

he lets out a breathy chuckle. “what?”

“nothing.” you slump your shoulders and slip the crop top back onto the rack, wedging it between two other shirts. “i’m gonna go find heeseung.” you tell him through a long, dramatic sigh, slipping your palms into the back pockets of your shorts. you turn on your heel and ease your way through the various clothing racks of jiyan’s thredz, your disappointed gaze roaming eagerly around the vicinity of the small, mall store. once you’ve spotted him by the men’s pants wall, you hurry your way over towards him.

“hello.” you greet him softly, watching as he snaps his head over towards you. he stuffs a pair of cargo pants back onto the shelf, his hand slipping into his pocket as he averts his gaze to your face.

“hey,” he begins with furrowed brows, running a hand through his black hair. “where’s jake?”

“jake is….. getting on my nerves.” you begin amusingly, lacing your arms over your chest. “so i left him in the aisle.” heeseung snorts and averts his gaze over to his right, tilting his chin up to peer over at the aisles on the other side of the store.

“what’d he do, y/n?”

“he didn’t do anything. that is the problem.” you sigh over towards your friend, following his gaze in search of your brown-haired boyfriend.

“huh?” heeseung mumbles, confused by your words. he then quickly shakes his head and peers back over at the jean wall. “you know what… i don’t even wanna know. can you just tell me which pair of jeans looks better? i have to pee and i want to get this over with.”

“sure,” you chuckle, veering your head back over towards the tall boy. “i have to pee too, now that i think about it. anyway, which pair of jeans are we talking about?”

you clutch your bags firmly by your side as you make your way across the tiled floor of the mall and towards the restrooms. somewhere behind you, heeseung and jake shortly follow on your tail, probably conversing about more geeky boy stuff. you try your hardest not to let frustration overtake you, but you can’t help it when you’ve elicited absolutely no reaction from your boyfriend.

it hurts just a little bit, anxiety blooming inside your chest. you thought it was quite obvious by the thin material of the snug denim cupping your ass, checking yourself out in your bedroom mirror to make sure it was obvious, before even agreeing to go out. so you huff and puff as you finally head inside the girl’s open restroom, gloomily setting your clothing bags by the entrance. it’s awfully quiet, you conclude, noticing the way all of the bathroom stalls had their doors creaked ajar. you let out an echoey sigh of relief at the vacancy, turning towards the full length mirror mounted onto the tiled wall.

you stood there gazing at your reflection, wondering how in the world your boyfriend hasn’t noticed. hasn’t felt it, even. trapped in your insecure thoughts, you suddenly flinch slightly at the sudden wall slap that echoes across the bathroom, jake’s hand placed firmly beside the mirror.

“y/n.” his hushed voice bellows, his body closely leaned into yours. your eyes widen slowly, snapping your head over towards him as heat spreads into your cheeks.

“jake,” you hiss, slightly pushing on his chest. “that scared me. get out, someone might come in and see you.”

“no.” he grumbles with an amused curve to his lips, his eyes examining your disgruntled features. “heeseung just told me you’re angry with me. he said because i’m, ‘not doing anything.’ what does that mean?” he lets a quick chuckle spill past his lips as you eye him through the mirror, lacing your arms over your chest.

“jake, get out. i have to pee.”

“no,” he whines, grabbing your arm with both of his hands as he shakes you slightly. “i don’t want you to be mad at me. tell me, what am i not doing, y/n?”

“fine.” you groan, slipping your arm out of jake’s grip. you take a few steps back away from him, placing your hands on your hips as you spin around slowly. “do you notice… anything… about me?”

you watch as jake leans his side into the wall, his arms crossing over his chest. he quirks an eyebrow at you playfully, an amused smile tilting his lips. “um, no,” he briefly chuckles, eyeing the pout of your lips. “um… you.. are wearing new lip gloss?”

“no, dummy.” you mumble solemnly in reply. “just forget it. seriously though, i have to pee, please get out.”

“y/n.” jake whines again, throwing his palms up to cover his face. “i’m gonna start sobbing into my hands if you don’t tell me right now.” a tingly feeling spreads throughout your chest as you reach your hand out towards him, lightly swiping at the curls peeking out from under his beanie.

“jake,” you sigh, a slight flame to your cheeks. “you haven’t noticed that there’s no underwear on my ass?” you thread your arms over your chest once again, noticing he’s peeking at you through the cracks of his fingers.

“what?” he mumbles, “what did you just say?”

“you’re an idiot. i thought it was obvious. you had your hand against my ass like, all day.”

“y/n.” jake begins, removing his hands from his face, a slight red tint presenting itself across his cheeks. “you’re not wearing … underwear?”

you let out a teasing sigh, turning your gaze back to the mirror to start messing with your hair. “i… am wearing underwear. it’s just,” you begin, glancing over at his doe eyed expression in the mirror. you let a small curve hike up your lip. “hidden underwear.”

“hidden underwear?” jake exclaims through a firm whisper, his eyebrows lifting in frustration and curiosity. he stuffs his hands firmly into his pockets, leaning his side back into the wall as his eyes trail down your figure again. “can i see?” he whispers to you, causing you to snort through your nose.

“no. get out.”

“y/n.” jake whines, turning his torso to slap his chest flat against the wall, his arms spread out on either side of him. “y/n, please, i can’t take this torment.” you let a breathy giggle burst passed your lips as you continue touching at your hair, relishing in the high-pitched groans emitting obnoxiously from your boyfriend.

“maybe if you’d noticed beforehand, i’d show you. but you didn’t. so suck it up.”

“that is not fair. like, at all.” jake replies lowly, an amused lilt to his voice. you bat your eyelashes over at him as you gaze at his cheek that’s squished against the wall, his glossy eyes planted on you. “you’re just a mean person. you hate me so bad. why do you enjoy teasing me?”

you do nothing but chuckle under your breath, leaning over towards him to begin pushing at his side. “jake, leave.” you groan, his body squeaking as he slides against the wall, struggling to push him off. “i need to pee.”

“are you ever going to show me?” he quietly whines, lifting himself off to the wall to let you push him easily out of the bathroom.

“no. go find heeseung and build your little cat woman car.”

“um… it’s a bat-mobile. get it right. i can’t believe you. what is happening right now?”

“same thing, jake… stop.”

“hey, heeseung?” you had sat yourself on top of heeseung’s leather couch, jake on one side of you, and heeseung’s friend hyejin on the other. you were tired from all of the aimless walking done inside the mall, your shopping bags resting at your feet. “is there anywhere i can try these clothes on?”

your eyes train on the tall boy in the kitchen, who opens up a bag of dried fruit in his grip as he leans over his kitchen counter. “uh, the guest room at the end of the hall. it’s got a,” he pops a dried strawberry into his mouth and furrows his eyebrows. “a wall mirror. or you can use the bathroom.”

you nod at heeseung’s suggestion, going to stand to your feet. you slowly rise up from your spot, bending down slightly to pick up the bags placed against the couch. you feel a slight smack to your ass as you slowly throw your head back to widen your eyes bashfully at jake. “can i come with?” he whispers through a lazy, amused grin, adjusting the beanie draped over his curls. you quickly straighten up and swivel your bag over to smack jake in his knees, causing him to wince and lean over.

“no. that didn’t even hurt.” you scoff to him playfully, watching as he dramatically begins rubbing his knee. you then step around him to head towards the hallway, going over heeseung’s directions in your head. okay, it’s at the end of the hall… end of the hall…

your eyes immediately fall onto the door just a few feet away, the bottoms of your black platform boots thudding softly against the brown, decorative carpet. you hum a pretty tune under your breath as you softly turn the doorknob, heading swiftly inside the air conditioned room.

you seemed to be lost inside your own little world as you tried on all of your clothes, modeling them teasingly in the large mirror that covered the expanse of the wall. garments ranging from crop tops, lacy tank-tops, cargo shorts, furry, cropped jackets. you had just stripped out of your frilly, denim skirt when a soft knock on the door makes you jump inside your skin.

your tone is hesitant when you part your lips, slowly peeling off your cream colored cropped sweater. “yes..?” you call out hesitantly, your heart beating up inside your ears at the long, ticking seconds of no response.

“y/n,” you hear jake outside of the door, your cheeks immediately flushing with rosace shades. “could i please come in? i’m sorry.. don’t break-up with me. let me make it up to you.” you immediately roll your eyes at his cheesy statements, now aware that you’re only in your bra and the lace embroidered thong you’ve been sporting all day.

you let out an exhausted sigh, crossing your arms over your chest as you flutter your eyelids shut for a mere second. “fine… come in.” the door slowly opens, as reds creep up your neck. jake peeks his head into the crack of the opening door, pulling his soft black beanie up away from his forehead to peer out through his chocolate fringe.

once his eyes fall onto your appearance, his mouth immediately falls open. he swings the door open, his hand still on the doorknob as his eyes rake your figure up and down, his plain, black hoodie embracing his lean torso admiringly. “y/n.” he whispers, his eyebrows shooting up into his forehead. “i fucking hate you.”

you can’t help but a let a soft chuckle spill past your lips, watching as jake strides over towards you and immediately pulls you into him, his warm hands quickly fitting into the bare curve of your hips. his lips quickly find yours, his pace already fast and messy and you can’t keep up with it.

“i’m so fucking stupid.” he breathes into your mouth as you wrap your arms around his neck, letting him push you softly into the foot of the bed. his lips move down your chin where he cocks his head to press soft, quick kisses into your neck, his hand traveling down your hip to slowly cup the curve of your ass. “i’m not gonna lie,” he rasps against the skin of your neck, sending goosebumps across your throat. he slightly nibbles on the skin there. “i kind of really want to fuck you in this, right now.”

“maybe you should close the door first.” you whisper into his mouth teasingly, before he mutters a short ‘fuck.’ you take a seat on the foot of the bed as you watch him quickly slam the door shut, wincing at the loud volume. you giggle softly as he frantically reaches the bottom of his hoodie to peel it off of his heated figure, tossing it somewhere over onto the floor. he pulls his beanie off of his head and discards of it too, immediately going back to approach you.

his lips find yours again as he leans forward to push you back onto the bed, now hovering over your figure. his mouth is wet and desperate against your own and he’s leaving small whines into the warmth of your mouth, his hands traveling down the sides of your waist to softly prod at the lace straps that hug your hips. “jake,” you breathe into him, your fingers brushing against the sweaty skin of his nape. “i wanna ride you….”

he whines again into your mouth, his breath heavy through his nostrils. “please, y/n,” he’s whimpering against your lips, his hands traveling further down to cup both of your asscheeks, which fit exceptionally well in his big hands. he lifts your hips up slightly as he presses himself into you, your legs wrapped around his waist. “please… i want that more than anything.”

“do you deserve it, though?” you whisper into his mouth, pulling his bottom lip out between your teeth. “you didn’t even realize i was wearing it at the mall…”

“no, no,” the boy pleads, and your heart leaps at just how desperate your boyfriend is being. he then presses his nose into your cheek, leaving wet kisses into the warm skin as he murmurs into it. “no, i, just, i won’t even— i won’t even move. you can— you can use me. just please.”

an immediate pulsing sensation is sent down your body, your mind suddenly clouded with need. “okay.” is all you mumble into his mouth before he climbs up off of you, immediately going to fumble with the belt looped around his low-set jeans that sit perfectly below his v-line. drool practically drips from your chin just drinking in his sight, his body gleaming with sweat and his biceps flexing as he swiftly and smoothly snakes his belt out of its loops. he peels his pants off of his legs before hiking down his boxers, a ring lined hand pushing back the dangling, matted locks of his dark hair.

he then hovers back over you and locks his lips back onto yours, his fists dug into the mattress on either side of your head to prop his body up. you push up on your elbows, following his lips, to push back on his chest, pushing him onto his back. you immediately begin straddling his thighs, just the sight of his hardened dick enough to make lust cloud every fiber of your being. his hands stay latched to your hips as his lips continue moving against yours, fast, messy and desperate. “please, y/n,” he whispers, slowly dragging your bottom lip out with his teeth. “show me how much i don’t deserve it.”

fuck. you separate from his lips to lift yourself up against him, lining his dick up with your entrance. his long, slender fingers help you push the front part of your thong to the side. “oh my god,” he pants, his hair falling into his eyes as he examines your underwear. “your pussy looks so pretty in this thong,” he mumbles, bringing a jolt to your core. he fixates his hands to settle on your hips, peering up at you under his eyelashes and through his dark, matted fringe. his skin looks delectably tan under the lamp lights, you think to yourself. a wide smirk stretches up the sides of his lips as he eyes you, his eyebrows raising high into his forehead. “wear this for me more often.”

you roll your eyes at him as you grip his shoulders, slowly going to sink down on his big, hardened dick. “shit,” the boy whimpers, his eyebrows tightening above his eyes as he watches himself sink inside you. “aw, shit.”

you make sure to sink down on him painfully slow, feeling the twitch of his thighs and the increasing pace of his breath. you wince because it hurts, regretting not preparing yourself beforehand. but soon, the warmth fills you up rather deliciously as you accidentally let out a soft moan. you can feel jake slightly buck up inside you, followed by a displeased whine. you stifle in the groan that presses behind your lips at his action, sinking your nails into the skin of his shoulders. “no.” you mumble, peering down at him teasingly through your eyelids. “you can’t move, remember?”

“sorry,” jake whispers, eyeing you through his eyelashes. his knuckles are white against your hips and his thighs are twitching. “i’m sorry.. sorry.” satisfied with his reply you slowly pull yourself up off of his thighs, his dick dragging up against the wet warmth of your walls. you both simultaneously let out an airy groan, your lips fallen ajar at the satisfyingly painful stretch of your core.

“shit, jake,” you gasp for breath, his nails digging into your hips. “did you get bigger?” you watch as another slow, wide grin stretches along his lips and reveal slivers of his pearly teeth, his eyebrows low-set above his glossed over eyes as he gazes up at you.

“dunno, sit on it some more and tell me.” his tone is deep and scratchy as his chest heaves heavily up and down, his hands sliding up and down the sides of your waist. he bites his lip harshly as his eyes dart back down, watching you slowly sink back down onto him. “y/n…” he whimpers, squeezing his eyes shut as his fingernails dig into your hips again. “y/n… dammit..”

“yeah?” you whine, beginning to pull up off of him faster this time. you know your pace is absolutely agonizing for him, but it’s fun on your end. you like watching him unravel below you. “what is it, baby?”

“please go faster.” he whimpers, leaning forward and ticks his chin up, lips pressing into the side of your neck. he peppers kisses into it that barely make contact, lips frantic and warm. “please… for the love of god, go faster… i beg you.”

“maybe if you tell me i’m pretty.” you slur through a breathy moan, slowly sinking back onto his dick. you hear jake mumble a deep, fuck, into your neck, biting into the skin at the pleasure. his breath is shaky and erratic through the tunnels of his nostrils.

“you’re my pretty girl.” jake whispers shakily into your neck, followed by a stifled whine as you start circling your hips with his dick buried inside you. “fuck, my pretty fucking girl and—and her pretty fucking pussy. all decorated for me.” you feel his thighs twitch below you with approaching desperation, a string of whimpers tickling at the junction of your neck as you feel the cold metal of his earrings brush against your collarbone. “if my pretty girl doesn’t pick up the pace in five fucking seconds though, i’m pulling out.”

a sudden knock on the door behind you completely jostles the sense out of the both of you. jake immediately leans back to widen his eyes at you, color draining from both of your faces. jake suddenly whispers a string of fucks, before attempting to hold in his quiet laughs, lips tightening into a line. you clear your throat, trying to sound as coherent as you can. “y-yes?” you call out a little shakily, not breaking eye contact with your boyfriend. jake slams his palm over his mouth.

“uh.. me and hyejin are going out for smoothies.” you hear heeseung declare from outside of the door. “i was gonna ask if you wanted to come. is jake in there too?” a sudden thrust against your g-spot unintentionally throws you out of the loop, gulping an immediate, loud gasp of air that you were pretty sure heeseung could hear.

your cheeks immediately bloom with heat, your eyes not tearing from jake’s. the boy has a big, idiotic grin spread out along his pearly teeth as he begins vibrating with silent giggles, strands of his soaked hair against his eyelashes. you glare at him hard, making sure to sink your nails hard into his shoulders as he winces.

“uh… guys..?”

“no, we’re good.” you immediately chirp, eyes staring daggers into the obnoxious grin on your boyfriend’s face. “jake is also—” another buck of jake’s hips sends a suppressed whimper to the back of your lips, one that you knew heeseung could probably hear too. “….in here.”

“um… okay. i don’t know what’s happening in there, but i’m just gonna leave now. i’ll see you guys later.” once you hear his footsteps disappear down the hallway, you immediately start slapping jake hard in the chest. he scrunches his shoulders and tries covering his chest with his arms, breathy giggles erupting from his lips as he winces at your smacks.

“hey… stop hitting me.”

“you’re a fucking prick.” you mumble as you quickly push yourself up onto your knees, jake’s dick sliding out of you. jake’s laughter suddenly dissipates as he realizes you’re climbing off of him. he immediately shoots up, his hand swiftly grabbing your arm.

“hey, hey, no, no, what’re you doing?” he pleads in a whine, pulling on your arm. “hey, stop. stop. i’m sorry, wait.”

“no,” you whine as you start slapping his hand, trying to resist his pulling, but he’s a lot stronger than you. he quickly jerks you back as you continue to protest, practically throwing your back against the bed. you gasp lightly at the impact as he immediately hovers over you, caging your head between his toned arms. he lifts a hand up to swipe stray, matted hair away from your forehead. you swat his hand away. “stop.” you whine, but you have no intention of stopping him. “get off of me.”

the corner of his lip is hiked up into a lazy smirk and his cheeks are flushed, his silver chain earrings dangling up against your jawline. “let me make you cum and then i’ll get off of you.” he mumbles under his breath, glossy eyes flickering among your features. “yeah?”

“i don’t wanna cum anymore.” you mumble back, your eyebrows furrowed teasingly. “i’m done. i wanna be done. you’re an asshole.” you cup your hands around his warm, sweaty neck and pull his face into yours, your lips connecting softly. you thread your fingers up through his damp, disheveled locks.

“yeah, you do.” he whispers into your mouth. you can feel the tip of his dick brush up against your sensitive entrance, a quiet gasp bleeding into the warm cave of his mouth. “don’t lie to me.”

“please.” you slur into his mouth, trying to press your pussy further onto his dick as it brushes softly against you. you hear jake chuckle airily into your ear, before pushing his cock slowly inside you. a loud desperate groan slips past your lips as you dig your nails into the nape of his neck.

“you’re a little fucking brat.” he whispers into your cheek, a low whine muffled into the skin as he begins bucking his hips inside you. his lips travel back to your lips shakily, immediately molding them with your own. his pace slowly gets faster, the warmth building up inside you as pleasurable sensations prickle up your spine. you wrap your arms tighter around his neck, brain going cloudy at how much he’s stretching you out.

jake groans as he slips his tongue inside your mouth, separating sloppily to dip his head down, biceps flexed as he hoists himself up a little more. he watches himself pound into you for a quick second. “god, that— that pretty little thing can take a fuckin’ beating, huh?” he slurs as he whips his head back up to you, teeth nibbling down the line of your jaw. you can’t say anything but let out whines in reply to his deep, rasped question, feeling his thrusts getting faster with his approaching climax. you’re on the edge too, you’re core tightening with pressure. “why is your pussy so good for me, y/n?” his words are shaky and his chest heaves up and down with heavy breaths, your back arching off of the sheets deliciously. you squeeze your eyelids shut, your teeth tightly clamping down on your lip as the pressure in your core grows.

“i think you just love getting your brains fucked out of you, y/n. look at— look at how you take me so good, and i’m— i’m fucking the absolute shit out of y—you. my pretty, fucked-out baby is being such a good girl for me.”

his words add instant heat to your belly. your legs begin to shiver as they tighten hard around jake’s slim waist, your arms tight around his neck. you lift your head up to lift it into the warm, damp juncture of his neck, knowing you’re on the edge. “jake, fuck….” you moan desperately into his ear as you finally reach your high, your body being jostled against the bed with each quick, sharp thrust. you bite down into his fragile skin as you begin to see stars, feeling wetness bloom all over your thighs and on jake’s hips.

at the feeling of your cum soaking every inch of his dick, he immediately stops his thrusts. he keeps himself buried inside you and hangs his head low above your chest, letting out frantic, intense breaths. once you finally come down from your high, you slowly lean back from his neck and thread your fingers up his scalp, your eyebrows furrowing tiredly. “why’d you stop?” you breathe into his face, watching as his forehead sweat drips onto your breast.

“said i’d make you cum, didn’t i?” he finally replies in a deep mumble, the edges of his lips quirking up. he peppers your face in swift, short kisses before slowly pulling his dick out of you, whispered fuck’s slipping past gritted teeth. his dick immediately drips your juices onto the mattress, and you suddenly feel bad for whoever washes these bedsheets.

“but,” you furrow your brows and jut your lip out into a pout, lifting yourself up onto your elbows. you watch as his figure straightens up from the bed, his body gleaming with sweat as he searches for his boxers among the floor. “but you’re still hard, and you didn’t get to cum. why didn’t you just—”

“well,” he sighs teasingly, hiking his boxers carefully up over his hard dick. he looks over at you under half lidded eyes before swiping his sweaty hair back from his forehead. “i felt bad about the heeseung thing. so i.. revoked my cumming privileges.”

you let out a teasing scoff, a short chuckle leaving your bitten lips. “that’s the dumbest thing i’ve ever heard. you just like torturing yourself.” you let your back fall flat onto the mattress with an exhausted sigh. “let me make it up to you later.”

a breathy giggle spills from jake’s lips as he begins hiking his jeans up over his hips, his head tilting back for a quick second. he then eyes you through his lashes and let’s a smirk curve to his lips again, fastening his belt across his his low waist band. “next time, i’m pulling the thong off with my teeth.” he raises his eyebrows teasingly as your cheeks flush with reds.

“okay, jake,” you say with a curve of your lip. “whatever you say. now, are you gonna leave me just laying here, or are you gonna come hold me? they won’t be back for a while.”

“i’m coming, i’m coming,” jake mumbles, struggling to zip the fly up on his jeans. you watch as he begins walking over to you, cursing under his breath as he continues toying with his zipper.

“you didn’t, though.” you tease as you outstretch your arms in his direction, watching his face contort with cringe at your joke. you giggle at his reaction, the boy falling right into your open arms. you immediately wrap your arms around his neck as his arms wrap around the expanse of your upper back, his thighs caging your own. he immediately buries his head into the nook of your neck and presses soft, slow kisses down the line of it.

and as if he read your mind in that moment, picking up on your secret need for affirmation and validation, he starts mumbling into your neck. “my pretty, pretty girl… soo fucking good. you’re so fucking good at taking me. no one could ever take me as good as you.” your cheeks bloom crimson as his switches his lips back and forth from your neck to your cheek. “i love making you cum, you’re the only girl in the world who deserves it.” his whispers tickle your neck and you giggle slightly at the sensation. jake notices and blows a raspberry right into your neck.

you flinch and let out a teasing gasp, jerking away from his face. “my turn.” jake whispers as he presses his nose into your cheek, huffing out air into your skin.

“your turn for what?”

“compliment me.”

“your dick is enormously big. good job.”

jake blinks down at you, before immediately straightening up to his feet. he ignores your teasing giggles before mumbling, “….. i hate you.”

perm taglist! @5xiang @svnoofy @qolaroidlove

#needy boyfriend jake oh my goshhh #down so bad for this story #and for jake ngl #loved loved loved this !!! #pretty girl #heecrush #sim jaeyun #my love

[sleepingrenjun]

good boys go to heaven (m) - s. jake

pairing: jake x fem!reader (she/her)

genre: 80′s!au, church boy!jake, experienced!reader, smut

warnings: religious innuendos, corruption, jake kinda acts like a perv, y/n is lowkey manipulative, smut [sub!jake, dom!reader, loss of virginity, protected sex, masturbation (m), humping, public sex, voyeurism, praise kink, oral sex (m & f receiving), usage of ‘puppy’ / ‘pup’ towards jake, overstimulation]

word count: 13.5k+

summary: all good boys go to heaven but jake sim has secured a place in hell, thanks to you.

a/n: this is 80% smut and 20% actual plot + i was too lazy to edit and google docs was not working properly, so this piece is unedited! ignore any mistakes pls! AND let me know what you guys think about it! 

His whole life, Jake tried to be the perfect son his parents could ask for. The boy was kind and respectful, always listening to whatever his parents needed to say. He fulfilled his parents’ every wish, always with a bright smile on his face. He graduated high school at the top of his class, always getting the best marks in every exam. He never failed to be his teacher’s favorite. He had close friends who enjoyed his presence and he never failed to spend quality time with them. Most importantly, being the son of a Christian family, he had never skipped going to church on Sunday’s. 

From a young age, Jake was taught the good, the bad and the red line separating them. He was never the one to commit such sins. Even if he did, he would have been ashamed for the rest of his life. However, as he grew up and learned stuff about the world outside of the rules he was made to follow, he realized how thin the line between good and bad was. Foremost, he learned why sins were actually called sins and the reason why they were prohibited. 

It all started with you. 

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#oh wow this was- #🥵 very hot #there’s just something about church boy jake man #this had me blushing like a foooool #good boys go to heaven #jaeyunsz #sim jaeyun #my love

[sleepingrenjun]

Me after him

Pairing; [Jake Sim x Fem!Reader]!Model au

Summary; messy break ups led to a scrambled mental health and it was Y/N’s first time experiencing it. So, in desperation for a change of pace, she started juggling lives between modelling and high school. Even with a seemingly lavish life, everything seemed empty and barren until Jake came along and he was everything she was missing.

Or in which he loved her even when she couldn’t.

The soul purpose of their story was for her to love him.

A/N; I haven’t written in a while so this may seem a lil rocky and I know it’s a really long one but please read it regardless. Fuck I hate it sm I hate myself like the ending is so abrupt but I guess that’s the whole point. Man there’s so much editing that went into this. And it’s so long like what, I didn’t know I had it in me. Anyways please read and please I’m begging you give me feedback. Yes thank you. Oh and also the scenes where the other members are mentioned are so homely, funny and like heartwarming I wish I had them this way fml. AND ALSO I MIGHT EDIT THE ENDINF MUCH LATER CUZ YEAH!!

Words; 25k

Masterlist | Enhypen Masterlist

JAKE WAS NEVER EXTROVERTED. He was ambitious and successful, but never extroverted. He chose to prioritise himself and decided to prioritise his dream of becoming the most successful model he could become. Then came his family and the six friends he made in summer camp when he was ten years old. That was all that was in the bubble he called home; his dog, his parents, his brother, his friends, himself, and his career.

At the beginning of his career, the boy’s character had been marred by the media more than most expected. He supposed that was what happened to most people that were on their road to success. Journalists claimed that he had an attitude, that his leading form of communication was glaring at others when they spoke or showing attitude to those that showed interest in conversing with him. Yet, on the other hand, the photographers he worked with argued that he had always been respectful and cooperative, and even a little innovative.

His career skyrocketed around the time he graduated high school. He went to a community college for the sake of education, but he rarely showed up. Photoshoots occupied his time, press meets, walking for runways of various fashion shows and meeting with designers. Jake was acquainted with most of the industry by the time he turned nineteen. He tried his best to be friendly, to not cuss at paparazzi that were just trying to be nice and to not show crudeness while answering selfish and personal questions- but he never made friends. He’d rather not.

At the age of nineteen, the boy owned a small apartment in New York City and drove around with an Audi. The car was gifted to him by the company themselves because he had made an appearance in one of their advertisements. 

As mentioned before, his career skyrocketed and it seemed like he had everything a young man like him could ask for… That is… Until he met Y/N.

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#this was such a rollercoaster of emotions but I loved it so so much #it felt so real and the characters felt so human #idk there’s something so lovely about reading a story that explores human emotion like this #not sure how to describe it #but good job author this was beautifully written #defo a fav #me after him #highkeygolden #sim jaeyun #my love