gyutopia - Tumblr blog

gyutopia · 20 days ago

Text

chisa didn’t know the full truth and was blinded by her anger and y/n’s betrayal,,,doesn’t make it okay as she should have at least heard her out but idk how willing i would be if i were in chisa’s shoes 😭

y/n deserves a happy ending!! the more i read comments and reblogs the more tempted i get to write another part

temptation | lee heeseung pt 2

˗ˏˋpairing: billionaire!heeseung x f!reader ❀ genre: marriage counselor au ❀ word count: 19.0k ❀ staring: chisa (22)- xg, yunho(23)- ateez, jaehyun(22)- bnd, heeseung (23) + jake (22) + jay (22) + sunghoon (22)- enhypen, sakura (24)- le sserafim, karina (24)- aespa, danielle (20)- new jeans. ⟶ warnings:mentions of anxiety and depression, therapy speak, lots of swearing, cheating, soft dom!hee, sub!reader, oral (f + m receiving), p in v intercourse, protected sex, dirty talk, praise, brief breast play, fingering, vanillaish sex, slight body worship, talk about childhood trauma, consumption of alcohol, mentions of abortion (not reader), invasion of privacy, inappropriate relationship dynamics, talk of assisted living, mention of a suicide attempt, allusions of starving yourself, mentions of anti- depressants, vague talk of ptsd, mentions of verbal abuse, heeseung doesn’t have good parents, physical altercation, online bullying (knets have a field day with u), heeseung is v insecure and has some emotional trauma. please let me know if i’ve missed anything!

✎୭: the full version, uninterrupted can be found on my ao3 here. thank you so much for reading this monster of a fic! i love and appreciate every single one of you!

SATURDAY FEBRUARY 22ND, 2025

It’s been a week since the kiss. A week since everything spiraled out of control.

You’ve been rotting away in your bed, hidden beneath blankets like a child hiding from monsters only this time, the monster isn’t under your bed—it’s in your chest, clawing at your heart every time you think about him.

The first thing you did the morning after was log into your work account and cash in some of your sick days. You needed a way to avoid the office, a way to avoid him. Dani emailed you a few small assignments, things you could complete from home so it was easy to play the role of someone mildly under the weather. A few sniffles over the phone and vague mentions of a stomach bug and Miss Min didn’t even question it.

Sakura still being in Japan has worked to your advantage. With her busy filming schedule, the usual meetings and updates have been sparse. Miss Min has been surprisingly lenient, perhaps assuming that you’re taking this time to recover before things pick up again.

But you’re not recovering. If anything, you’re unraveling.

You haven’t stepped out of your apartment in days, let alone made an attempt to eat properly or take care of yourself. The bare minimum—replying to work emails and completing small tasks—is the only thing tethering you to reality.

You know you’re running out of time. Eventually, Miss Min will expect you back in the office and when that day comes, you’ll have no choice but to face the truth. You’ll have to tell her to reassign Heeseung and Sakura’s case to someone else.

The thought of it paralyzes you. Once you remove yourself, that’s it. You’ll have no reason to see him anymore. No excuse to hear his voice or watch the way he absentmindedly taps his pen against the desk during meetings. No more pretending that you’re just doing your job when deep down, you know you’ve already failed at keeping your feelings in check.

Heeseung hasn’t reached out. Not once. No calls, no texts, no emails. Nothing.

It shouldn’t hurt this much. You’re the one who left his home without a word, too embarrassed to face what you’d done. You’re the one who’s been avoiding him like the plague hoping that the distance will make it easier to let go. But his silence feels like a confirmation of your worst fear—that he regrets everything.

The memory of that night replays in your mind on a loop. The way his lips felt against yours, the way he held you, the way he took care of you.

It’s torture, and you’ve trapped yourself in it.

Your friends have noticed, of course. How could they not?

It started with Yunho.

He texted a few days ago, saying he’d made a big batch of jjajangmyeon and that you should come over for dinner. Normally, you’d jump at the chance to eat anything Yunho cooked—he has a talent for cooking. But you declined claiming you weren’t feeling well.

His reply was immediate.

5:25pm | yuyu💫: u never turn down food…are you sure ur okay?

You typed out a response. Deleted it. Typed out another. Deleted that one too. Finally, you settled on:

5:36 pm | you: i’m fine. just tired. thanks for the offer.

Then there was Jaehyun.

He called the following evening, his tone light and casual. “Hey, want to grab drinks after my shift? It’s been a while since we caught up.”

Normally, you’d agree in a heartbeat. Jaehyun’s presence was easy and comforting, and nights out with him always left you feeling lighter but the thought of facing anyone, even someone as laid-back as Jaehyun, felt impossible.

“I’m not in the mood,” you said, your voice quieter than usual.

“Not in the mood for drinks?” he repeated, his tone disbelieving. “Since when?”

You forced a weak laugh. “Rain check?”

He didn’t press, but the concern in his voice lingered long after the call ended.

Finally, there was Chisa.

She didn’t bother with subtlety. One afternoon, she stormed into your room, keys in hand. “Get dressed,” she said firmly. “We’re going to the mall.”

You blinked at her from your cocoon of blankets, confused and slightly annoyed. “I’m good,” you muttered, burrowing deeper into your bed.

“I’ll buy you makeup,” she added, a note of bribery in her voice. “Whatever you want.”

Normally, you’d jump at the offer. You loved makeup, and free makeup was even better. But the idea of standing under bright store lights, pretending to be okay, was unbearable.

“I already have more than enough makeup,” you said, turning away.

Chisa didn’t argue. She just stood there for a moment, watching you with an expression that made your chest ache, before leaving the room without another word.

That was two days ago. It’s now past midday and you’re still in bed. The room is dark, save for the faint light filtering through the curtains. Your stomach growls but you don’t have the energy to cook let alone eat.

You’re about to close your eyes again when the door to your room bursts open.

“What the—?” You sit up abruptly, squinting against the sudden intrusion.

Your friends stand in the doorway, each of them wearing expressions ranging from concern to frustration.

“What are you doing?” you ask, your voice hoarse from disuse.

Jaehyun strides forward without answering, grabbing the edge of your blanket.

“Jaehyun!” you protest, clutching the fabric tightly. “What are you doing?”

“Taking care of you since you clearly can’t do it yourself,” he snaps, his voice sharper than you’re used to.

“Stop it!” You tug back on the blanket, growing annoyed but Jaehyun doesn’t let go.

“Hey, hey,” Yunho interjects, stepping between the two of you. “Let’s all calm down.” He turns to you, his voice softer. “We’re just worried about you. You haven’t seemed like yourself lately.”

You sigh, wrapping your arms around yourself. “I’m fine, just—”

“Sick,” Chisa interrupts, crossing her arms. “Yeah, we know. That’s what you want us to believe.”

Jaehyun scoffs. “You rarely missed a day of class in college, even if you were sick so excuse me if we’re not buying that excuse this time.”

You stare at them blankly unsure of how to respond.

Chisa steps closer, kneeling in front of you. Her voice is gentle as she says, “We’re just worried about you, ____. This isn’t… normal. Please, just tell us what’s going on so we can help.”

Tears sting your eyes, but you blink them away. “I just needed a week off. I’ll be okay.”

Yunho sits beside you on the bed, his presence warm. “We can’t force you to talk about something you’re clearly not ready to share,” he says. “But at least let us help you.”

Jaehyun sighs, his frustration melting as he sees the tears threatening to fall. “We don’t have to talk about it. We can just order takeout and binge-watch early 2000s shows… just stop icing us out. Please. We love you and want to help you.”

The dam breaks.

You start crying, the sound raw and unrestrained. Your friends don’t say anything—they just surround you, pulling you into a group hug.

Yunho is the first to pull away, sniffling quietly as he stands. “I’ll order the food,” he says, his voice thick with emotion.

Jaehyun follows, mumbling something about not wanting to cry in front of you.

Chisa stays, holding you until your sobs subside. She rubs your back soothingly and says, “Whatever it is, know that you’ll overcome it.”

You nod weakly, more out of instinct than belief. Deep down, you don’t think you’ll overcome this—not when “this” is Lee Heeseung. How could you possibly move on from him?

You don’t think you’ve ever felt this way about anyone before. It’s not just the heartbreak—it’s the way he made you feel so seen. You’ve spent so much of your life hiding parts of yourself, keeping your scars neatly tucked away but Heeseung made it feel safe to let them show.

Most people don’t know why you became a marriage counselor. You’ve always lied whenever the question came up, saying you “just love love,” but the truth is messier and darker. Your father’s infidelity, your mother’s quiet suffering and your own helplessness in the face of it all shaped you. You wanted to help people in ways you couldn’t help her. But it’s not something you ever talk about—not until Heeseung.

He was the first person outside of your friends whom you willingly opened up to. The first person you wanted to open up to. And when you did, his response wasn’t pity or judgment. It was understanding. He didn’t tell you to move on or let it go. He simply listened, offering quiet reassurances. His words didn’t just soothe your present self…they reached that fractured little girl you used to be, the one who just wanted someone to tell her it wasn’t her fault.

And Heeseung… he understood because he’d been there too. Despite living in the aftermath of his brother’s attempted suicide, enduring his father’s suffocating demands and his mother’s overbearing love, he hadn’t become some cold-hearted monster. He had every reason to, but he didn’t.

Sure, he has his flaws. He’s scared of vulnerability, keeps people at arm’s length and hides behind a playboy persona. But you see through it—it’s all armor. He doesn’t want people to see the cracks, to know he has weaknesses they could exploit. And yet with you, he tore all those walls down. He let you see the version of himself that never got to exist when he was younger.

The version he even hides now.

You’d give anything to make sure he’s never hurt again. To ensure he never has to hide or water himself down. To guarantee he can just be himself—happy, unburdened and free. But you can’t.

Because you’re not from his world. You’re not the person he’s supposed to choose. And even if you were, some part of you thinks this love—this all-consuming love—might be too much. Too much for Heeseung.

But not because he doesn’t deserve it. No, Heeseung deserves the kind of love that heals, that lets him breathe, that doesn’t ask for anything he can’t give. But it’s the weight of it, the enormity of what it would mean to truly care for someone like him that gives you pause.

You haven’t forgotten about him forcing his ex-girlfriend to get an abortion, it’s stuck with you since you overheard it. You never brought it up, never asked Heeseung to clarify but it lingers. It colors how you see him, even if you don’t want it to. You don’t believe Heeseung is the kind of man who would demand something so cruel, so selfish but the seed of doubt is there. And it terrifies you.

Because if you’re wrong, if he really did that, what does that say about him? About you for wanting to believe in him so badly?

But even without knowing the truth, you can feel how carefully Heeseung treads around the idea of vulnerability. It’s in the way he deflects, the way he keeps people at a distance, the way his sharp words mask the pain he doesn’t think anyone notices. Loving someone like that would require patience…endless patience and you’re not sure if even that would be enough.

Heeseung doesn’t halfass anything, he said so himself. He doesn’t know how to. If he let himself fall for you, it would be all-encompassing. Consuming. He would give you everything he has, every vulnerable piece of himself he’s spent years hiding away. And that’s what scares you. Not that he wouldn’t love you enough, but that he’d love you too much.

That kind of love comes with expectations, with vulnerabilities Heeseung might not be ready to face. It’s one thing for him to care for someone in theory, to keep his emotions safely compartmentalized, but to truly open himself up? To risk that kind of pain again? You’re not sure he can.

And then there’s the other part, the part you don’t want to admit even to yourself: what if it’s not enough? What if you’re not enough? What if he gives you everything and you still can’t reach him? What if the walls he’s built are so strong that even love can’t break them down?

So you hesitate. Not because you don’t want him, but because you do. Because the thought of not being enough for him is unbearable.

You lean into Chisa’s embrace, letting the tears spill over again silent now but no less heavy. The weight of it all, the longing, the guilt, the hopelessness—feels unbearable.

You don’t think you’ll ever overcome Lee Heeseung.

Chisa helps you out of bed and into the living room, where Yunho pats the spot next to him on the couch. You sit between him and Chisa, feeling their warmth on either side.

Chisa boots up the TV, scrolling through the options. “How far away is the food?” she asks.

“Another twenty minutes,” Yunho replies, checking his phone.

Jaehyun comes into the living room, handing you a bottle of water. You smile softly and thank him. He nods, taking a seat beside Yunho.

Chisa selects That’s So Raven and hits play. As the theme song fills the room, you glance around at your friends, your heart swelling with gratitude.

You don’t deserve them.

But as you sit there, surrounded by their love and support, you realize you can’t keep this from them forever. You’ll tell them about Heeseung—once you’ve removed yourself from the case.

For now, you let yourself enjoy the moment knowing it might be the last bit of peace you have before everything falls apart again.

THAT SAME DAY ON THE OTHER SIDE OF TOWN

The ball bounces high off the court, cutting cleanly through the crisp afternoon air. Jay slams it back toward Jake and Heeseung’s side with enough force to make Jake grunt, barely managing to return it. It ricochets toward Heeseung—his racket is raised and ready, but his reaction time is too slow. The ball whizzes past him, landing well within the lines.

Jay pumps his fist triumphantly. “Another point for us!”

Jake groans, marching toward Heeseung with his racket pointed accusingly. “Yah! What’s wrong with you? We’re losing!” His aussie accent is stronger than ever, laced with the kind of playful exasperation only a best friend can get away with.

Jay and Sunghoon dissolve into laughter at Jake’s fiery outburst. It’s Sunghoon’s first time joining their tennis matches—Jake had invited him earlier that week, saying, “He fits the vibe, trust me.” And so far, Sunghoon had been keeping up, much to Jay’s delight and Jake’s annoyance.

“Sorry,” Heeseung mutters, rubbing the back of his neck. “My head’s… everywhere today.”

“Yeah well get it together!” Jake huffs, gesturing dramatically with his racket. “We’re not losing to these two.”

“Hey!” Jay protests, offended. “These two are crushing you.”

Sunghoon smirks as he twirls his racket. “Not my fault Heeseung’s got his head in the clouds.”

Jake groans, pushing Heeseung toward his side of the court. “Come on man! Get out of your head and play!”

Heeseung exhales heavily, adjusting his stance to serve. He tosses the ball into the air, his focus sharpening as he swings his racket. The ball zips across the net, hitting the opposite side perfectly.

As the game resumes, Heeseung speaks, his voice low but clear: “I made out with my therapist.”

Jay misses his swing completely, the ball bouncing away. Sunghoon whistles in surprise. Jake freezes, staring at Heeseung like he’s grown a second head.

“You what?” Jake finally blurts out.

Heeseung shrugs, keeping his expression neutral even as a knot tightens in his chest. “You heard me.”

Sunghoon fiddles with his racket, clearly intrigued. “Well, this just got interesting.”

Jake recovers first, shaking his head. “Wait, wait. Back up. How did that happen?”

Heeseung exhales, running a hand through his hair. “It’s a long story.”

“We’ve got time,” Jay says, walking over to grab the ball.

Heeseung hesitates, but when he sees the curiosity—and concern—in their faces, he decides to tell them everything. “Okay, so you know how my parents forced me to go to that matchmaking firm?”

Jay snorts. “Forced is putting it lightly.”

“Exactly,” Heeseung mutters. “They were tired of the tabloids making me look like a… well, you know.”

“A whore,” Jake supplies helpfully.

“Thank you, Jake,” Heeseung says dryly before continuing. “Anyway, I wasn’t taking it seriously at first. But then I met her—____. She’s one of their counselors. The minute I walked into that consultation room and saw her…” He pauses, the memory of that moment flickering in his mind. “She wasn’t like anyone I’d ever met. She was professional but kind. She didn’t look at me like I was some project to fix. Didn’t associate me with what the news was saying….she just… listened.”

Jay raises an eyebrow. “Listened?”

“Yeah.” Heeseung nods. “Like, really listened. I don’t think anyone’s ever done that before. Not the way she did.”

The game pauses as the four of them linger on Heeseung’s words. Jake twists his racket, visibly intrigued. “So, what happened?”

Heeseung shifts uncomfortably. “We had dinner last week…don’t ask…She didn’t judge me. Didn’t push. We talked about everything—work, family, life… even stuff I don’t usually talk about…like Heejoon.”

Sunghoon frowns. “Who’s Heejoon?”

Heeseung hesitates before explaining, “My brother. He lives in an assisted living facility.” His voice is quieter now, tinged with a sadness he doesn’t often show.

Jake and Jay exchange a look. They’ve known about Heejoon for years but they also know how rarely Heeseung brings him up.

“She didn’t pry,” Heeseung continues. “She just… let me talk. And when I didn’t want to talk, she let me sit in silence. Do you know how rare that is?”

Jake whistles softly. “Sounds like she really gets you.”

“Yeah,” Heeseung says, almost to himself. “She does.”

Jay watches him closely, his expression thoughtful. “It sounds like you like her.”

Heeseung’s grip tightens on the racket, his jaw clenching. The idea strikes a nerve, one he’s not ready to confront. He tried to ignore his feelings when they first started surfacing—during that one-on-one meeting at the hotel bar.

He brushed it off as professional interest, convinced himself it was just admiration for your work. But then you started slipping into his thoughts more often than he liked to admit.

And now, standing with his friends on this tennis court, the reality of it feels inescapable.

He doesn’t want to like you. The idea terrifies him. Liking you would mean opening himself up and he’s learned the hard way what happens when he lets someone in. Vulnerability is a risk he’s not sure he’s willing to take again. It’s safer to keep things on the surface, where emotions can’t dig too deep, where people can’t get close enough to hurt him.

But this… this feels different.

The way you listen to him without judgment, the way you genuinely seem to care—it’s unlike anything he’s experienced in years. You don’t expect him to be the perfect son, the unshakable CEO, or the carefree charmer everyone else sees. You let him be Heeseung—messy, flawed, and real. And somehow, that’s scarier than anything else.

"I don’t like her," Heeseung replies, his tone sharper than he intended. "It’s not like that."

Jay shrugs, setting up another serve. "Hate the message, not the messenger."

The ball flies across the net, but the tension remains. Jake eventually breaks the silence. "Okay, but Jay’s right. This is the most attention we’ve seen you willingly give someone since... well, you know." He stops abruptly, glancing at Jay as the ball falls flat in front of Sunghoon.

Jay glares. “Don’t.”

“What?” Jake says innocently. “I didn’t say her name.”

Sunghoon frowns, looking between them. “Who are we talking about?”

Heeseung exhales heavily, his shoulders sagging. "You can say her name. It’s not the end of the world."

Jake takes it upon himself to explain, filling Sunghoon in as they continue their game. "Heeseung dated this girl, Karina, back in college. She was the first person who got through to him during his...experimental phase." He dodges a stray ball from Heeseung before continuing. "He actually wanted to be monogamous with her."

Sunghoon raises an eyebrow, surprised. Jay adds, "Shocking, I know."

Sunghoon serves, the ball whizzing over the net. "So, what happened?"

Heeseung remains silent, his jaw tightening. Jake picks up where he left off. "Heeseung was still... figuring things out and Karina got self-conscious about all the attention their relationship got."

Jay continues, his tone more measured. “It wasn’t just the attention. Karina was…insecure. Heseung was the only person she had ever been with, but she wasn’t his first anything. All those other girls he’d been with? It got in her head. She started wondering if she was good enough.”

Sunghoon nods slowly. “So what, she wanted a break?”

“Yeah,” Jay says. “She said she needed to figure out what she really wanted. Heeseung knew what that meant but he didn’t think she’d actually sleep with someone else.”

Jake takes over, his tone blunt. “She got pregnant by another guy.”

Sunghoon’s jaw drops. “Seriously?”

Jay snickers. “And lover boy over there,” he tilts his head in Heeseungs direction as he prepares to serve, “didn’t care, he offered to help her raise the baby.”

Jake bursts out laughing, striking the ball back. “The dad that stepped up!”

Heeseung rolls his eyes. “Very funny.”

Sunghoon studies him quietly. “So… what happened?”

“She said it wouldn’t be fair to me,” Heeseung says quietly. “That I deserved more than being tied down to someone else’s mistake. So we ended things.”

Jake adds, “But her friends didn’t see it that way. They told everyone Heeseung dumped her because she wouldn’t get an abortion. People thought the baby was his. Karina transferred schools to get away from the mess.”

Sunghoon whistles, shaking his head. “That’s… a lot.”

“Yeah,” Jake says. “We had to pick up the mess she left behind. Heeseung was a wreck.”

Jay nods. "It was a mess. Heeseung didn’t bother correcting the narrative. He figured it was better to let people hate him if it meant they’d leave Karina alone."

Heeseung fixes his gaze on Jay’s new serve but his mind is far away. Jake’s words echo in his head dredging up memories he’s tried to bury.

It all started so innocently. Karina had crashed into him in the hallway outside their dorm rooms, her lab manual and papers went flying across the floor. She was in such a rush, barely looking at him as she muttered a quick “sorry” and darted off after Heeseung helped pick up her notes. He’d laughed it off at the time, figuring she was just another busy college student.

But then he started noticing her more. She was his next-door neighbor after all. He saw her leaving for early classes, hair in a messy ponytail, coffee cup in hand. He caught glimpses of her in the common areas, always with her head buried in a textbook or her laptop.

The first real conversation they had was late one night when he came back from a party. She was in the dorm lounge, slumped over her laptop, tears streaming down her face. He didn’t even know why he’d stopped—normally, he would’ve just kept walking. But something about the way she looked so defeated and alone made him pause.

He found out she was locked out of her room, freezing, starving, and overwhelmed by a cell bio lab report she had no idea how to write. Heeseung hadn’t planned to stay. He told himself he was just being nice when he ordered Mexican food for them and offered up his room for her to work in. But as the hours passed, as he stayed up helping her find sources and cracking jokes to make her laugh, something shifted.

That night, he realized he wanted to see her again. And he did—again and again. Their friendship grew and somewhere along the way he fell for her. Hard.

He didn’t even notice at first. It wasn’t one big moment, but a series of small ones: the way she’d scrunch her nose when she was concentrating, how her laughter lit up a room, the way she listened when he talked, like he was the most interesting person in the world. Heeseung started skipping parties, hanging out with her instead. For the first time in a long time, he didn’t feel the need to impress anyone or put on a front. He could just be himself.

When they started dating, it felt like a dream. But dreams don’t last.

Karina wasn’t like him—she wasn’t used to the attention, the whispers, the gossip. His past flings made it worse, their snarky comments and passive-aggressive stares feeding her insecurities. He tried to reassure her, to show her she was the only one who mattered, but it wasn’t enough.

When she asked for a break Heeseung gave her space even though it tore him apart. He told himself she’d come back, that they’d work things out. Heeseung still remembers the night she told him. She’d shown up at his door, tears in her eyes, her hands shaking. He thought she was there to reconcile, to tell him she was ready to try again. Instead, she told him about the baby.

He could’ve walked away. A part of him wanted to. But the love he felt for her, the kind that makes you want to stay even when it hurts—kept him rooted in place.

Heeseung argued and pleaded but she wouldn’t budge. She told him she loved him too much to let him sacrifice his future for her mistakes.

When the rumors started—that the baby was his and he’d dumped her because she wouldn’t get an abortion—Heeseung didn’t correct them. What was the point?

She transferred schools soon after, and that was the end of it. The end of them.

Heeseung exhales sharply, his chest stinging at the memory. He’s not in love with Karina anymore, he knows that. But what they had, how it ended, left scars he’s still dealing with.

She was his first love, the first person he let himself be vulnerable with and she left.

Now, the idea of letting someone in like that again terrifies him. What if they leave too? What if he’s not enough?

Sunghoon glances at Heeseung, who is unusually quiet. The tabloids had painted a picture of him as a careless playboy, but this version of Heeseung—reserved, contemplative—didn’t fit that image. As Heeseung serves again, Sunghoon’s perspective shifts. Heeseung isn’t aloof; he’s guarded, carrying the weight of past scars and unspoken emotions.

“Point is,” Jay finally says, breaking the silence, “you deserve to be happy, Heeseung. And it sounds like this girl—____, makes you happy. Maybe it’s worth giving it a shot.”

Heeseung’s grip on his racket tightens, his gaze distant. “I know. But that’s what scares me.”

Jay frowns. “Why?”

Heeseung hesitates, then sighs. “Because people like her don’t exist in my world. Genuine, kind… It’s easier to push her away than risk losing her.”

The silence stretches between them as the weight of his words settles.

Jake tilts his head, his voice uncharacteristically serious. “What’s worse? Losing her because you didn’t try, or losing her after you gave it your all?”

Jay nods, his expression softening. “Whatever makes you happy, man. You’ve spent years doing what everyone else wants. Maybe it’s time to focus on what you want. You deserve to be happy.”

Heeseung looks at Jay, his jaw clenching as he processes his friend’s words. He knows they’re right. They always are. But admitting what he wants—admitting that he wants you—is the hardest part.

Sunghoon, who has been quietly observing, finally speaks. “You should go for it, man. You’re right, there aren’t a lot of genuine people in our world but it sounds like you’ve found someone who cares about you...why pass that up?”

Jake grins, the humor creeping back into his tone. “Plus, she’s a therapist. I’m sure she can help you sort through those deep-seated mommy and daddy issues.”

Heeseung snorts, shaking his head. “Fuck off.”

As they pack up their equipment, Heeseung lingers, his mind replaying the events of the past week. The kiss, the way you’d looked at him, the vulnerability in your eyes—it had all felt so real. But the morning after, you were gone. No explanation, no goodbye. Just... gone.

He remembers waking up, hoping to talk things out, to figure out what the kiss meant for both of you. He’d wanted to kiss you again, to tell you that he didn’t regret it. But your absence had said it all. You regretted it. You didn’t want him.

That’s why he hadn’t reached out. He’d convinced himself that you needed space, that pushing you would only make things worse. But now, after hearing his friends, he’s starting to question that logic. Maybe he’s been using your disappearance as an excuse to protect himself. Maybe it’s time to take a risk.

As the sun sets, Heeseung sits in his car, gripping the steering wheel tightly. The echoes of Jay’s words ring in his ears: "You deserve to be happy."

For the first time in days, he pulls out his phone, his fingers hovering over your contact. His heart pounds as he considers what to say, what to do. He doesn’t call—not yet—but the decision is made. He’s going to reach out. He’s going to try.

Because Jay is right: he deserves to be happy, and maybe you’re the person who can help him find that happiness.

MONDAY FEBRUARY 24TH, 2025

You’re standing in front of the glass doors to your office building clutching your bag with both hands as if it might slip away and drag you with it. The week you took off feels like a fever dream now—blurry and surreal but undeniably real in the toll it’s taken on your body and mind. You’ve barely slept, barely eaten, and every fiber of your being wants to turn around and leave. But you can’t.

You exhale shakily, willing your feet to move. The lobby is bustling as usual—faces you don’t recognize weaving in and out, some rushing to catch elevators, others lingering by the café for their first caffeine hit of the day.

For a moment, you imagine Jaehyun here, waiting in the corner like he offered. He had insisted on accompanying you today, his day off but you turned him down. “I’ll be fine,” you’d said, more to convince yourself than him. The truth is, you don’t feel fine. Not even close.

Your resolve wavers as you step into the elevator, but you clutch your bag tighter and remind yourself of your plan. Drop off your things, go straight to Miss Min and request to be removed from the case. That’s it. That’s all you have to do. You don’t have any sessions today so you’re free to do paperwork in the comfort of your office alone.

The elevator dings, the doors sliding open to reveal the familiar hallway. Your heart pounds harder with each step, dread clawing at your chest.

The firm feels unfamiliar after just a week away. You round the corner to your office but stop dead in your tracks.

Sakura is standing there, waiting for you. The sight of her sends your heart plummeting into your stomach.

Her outfit is immaculate as always, a Dior top tucked into high-waisted jeans, a fluffy tote bag slung over one shoulder. She looks stunning, almost as if she just stepped out of a magazine spread.

What is she doing here?

You don’t have a scheduled meeting with her today and the possibilities racing through your mind only make the anxiety worse. Did Heeseung tell her about the kiss? Is she here to confront you?

You swallow hard and force a polite smile, hoping it doesn’t look as strained as it feels. “Sakura, hi. What brings you here?”

Her smile is warm and genuine, completely disarming. “I finally found an opening in my schedule,” she says. “I know it’s last minute and I’m sorry but I really wanted to have that one-on-one time with you.”

Your heart sinks further.

Oh.

She’s not here to accuse you of anything. She’s here because she thinks you’re someone she can trust.

Staring into her kind eyes feels unbearable knowing what you’ve done.

“Oh, um…” You hesitate, glancing at the door to your office. “Actually, I don’t… I can’t today. I’m sorry. I don’t have time.”

You try to sidestep her, desperate to escape into the relative safety of your office but Sakura gently places a hand on your arm, stopping you.

“I’m sorry,” she says softly, her tone almost pleading. “I really don’t mean to impose, but this is my only free day off. Please?”

There’s something so sincere in her voice, something that twists the knife of guilt even deeper. You have no right to deny her this. It’s quite literally the least you could do.

You nod reluctantly, forcing a small smile. “Okay. What did you have in mind?”

Sakura’s face lights up as she lifts her tote bag slightly. “Crocheting! I brought some of my materials.”

You smile softly remembering her mentioning it was a hobby of hers. “Crocheting?”

“Yeah!” she says, her excitement palpable. “I thought it might be a fun way for us to spend time together.”

“Sure,” you say quietly, nodding toward your office. “We can work in here. We’ll have it to ourselves.”

You lead her inside, offering her the seat across from your desk. She immediately starts unpacking her supplies—rolls of yarn in soft pastels, a variety of hooks, and a pattern book.

“Have you ever crocheted before?” she asks, glancing up at you with a smile.

You shake your head. “No, never.”

Sakura grins. “Perfect. I’ll teach you the basics.”

She’s patient as she explains each step, showing you how to hold the hook and yarn, how to make a simple chain. Her enthusiasm is infectious and for a brief moment you almost forget the fact that you kissed her fiancée.

When she hands you a pattern she’s already started—a small flower, you thank her and begin carefully following her instructions. Meanwhile, she starts on a new project.

“What are you making?” you ask after a while, glancing at the soft gray yarn in her hands.

“A scarf,” she says, her voice light. “It’s getting colder, and I want Heeseung to stay warm.”

Your hands falter, the hook slipping from your fingers. You force yourself to recover quickly, pretending to focus on the flower in your lap.

“Do you…” You hesitate, your voice barely above a whisper. “Do you have feelings for him?”

Sakura blushes, her fingers pausing for a moment before resuming their work. “I know it probably sounds stupid because, well, why would the ‘perfect princess’ want the messed-up playboy?”

She sighs, her voice soft and contemplative. “I don’t know. I can’t help but like him.”

You nod slowly, understanding all too well how easy it is to fall for Heeseung, especially when he lets his guard down.

“You don’t have to rationalize why you like him,” you say quietly.

Sakura smiles faintly, her gaze focused on her work. “I see myself in him, you know? Spending your whole life in the spotlight…it forces you to become someone else. I see that with Heeseung. He hides so much of himself but I know there’s more to him than what he lets people see.”

You nod again, unsure of what to say. The conversation feels like walking a tightrope.

Sakura continues, her voice softer now. “I think he’s very guarded. He keeps me at a distance but I believe if we keep working with you, he’ll learn to open up. He can be a good husband, I know he can.”

Her words hit you like a punch to the gut. You have no doubt either that Heeseung would make an amazing husband. You swallow the lump in your throat and force a small smile. “You’re…good at seeing the best in people.”

She looks up at you, her expression thoughtful. “Do you think that’s a bad thing?”

“No,” you say quickly looking back at the flower. “But…do you think you like him for who he is now, or for who you think he could be?”

Sakura tilts her head, considering your question. “Can’t it be both? Can’t I like him and also want to help him become the best version of himself?”

You hesitate, your fingers tightening around the yarn in your lap. “Maybe. But sometimes, when we try to ‘fix’ someone, we end up falling for the version of them we’ve created in our heads, not the person they really are.”

You don’t know why you’re saying this—or maybe you do. Maybe it’s because you’ve seen the real Heeseung. There’s no need for you to imagine who he is or who he could become because you know. You know his flaws, his frustrations, the way his voice sharpens when he’s annoyed, and how his smile softens when he talks about the things that matter to him. And despite all of it—no, because of all of it….you still like him.

Heeseung doesn’t need fixing. He deserves to be loved unconditionally, not molded into someone else’s ideal.

You glance at Sakura. She doesn’t seem like the type to love with limits. She’s earnest, kind, and patient in a way you’ve never been. If Heeseung allowed himself to get to know her, you could see them being happy together. She would lay her life down to ensure his happiness.

But you?

You’d let the world burn if it meant keeping him safe. You’d tear the universe apart just to put him back together.

It’s an unbearable truth, one you wish you could erase from yourself because no matter how much you care for him, you know that it’s unfair to Sakura.

Sakura nods slowly, her gaze distant. “I guess that’s something I’ll have to figure out. But…I care about him. And I want to see him happy, whether that’s with me or not.”

“Do you mean it?” you ask hesitantly.

Sakura looks up, confused. “Mean what?”

“When you say you wouldn’t mind if Heeseung chose someone else,” you clarify. “Do you really mean that?”

Her fingers pause mid-stitch, and she looks thoughtful. “It would hurt,” she admits. “I’ve come to care about him but I think we both deserve to be with someone who loves us completely. Don’t you?”

You nod slowly.

“I believe he could be that person for me,” Sakura continues, her voice soft. “But if he isn’t, I won’t force it. I’ve spent too much of my life trying to fit into roles that weren’t meant for me. I deserve someone who loves me for who I am and so does he.”

“Thank you,” you say softly, your voice barely audible.

“For what?”

“For trusting me with this.” You respond.

Sakura smiles warmly. “You’re easy to talk to. I can see why Heeseung respects you so much.”

You lower your gaze, unable to meet her eyes. “I’m just doing my job.”

The conversation drifts back to lighter topics as you continue crocheting, but the weight of your guilt never leaves. When the hour is up, you see Sakura out and close the door behind her and lean against it, exhaling shakily. You need to remove yourself.

Crossing the room, you settle into your chair and reach for the files neatly stacked on your desk. Your fingers tremble as you sift through the documents; session notes, progress reports, everything you’ve meticulously prepared over the past month for Heeseung and Sakura.

This was supposed to be just another assignment, your first major case as part of the matchmaking firm’s elite team. You were supposed to help them establish trust, lay the groundwork for a successful marriage and ensure the media viewed them as the perfect couple. But somewhere along the way, it became personal.

You can’t do this anymore. Not when you’ve crossed lines you swore you wouldn’t. Not when you’ve let yourself feel things you shouldn’t.

Gathering the files into a tidy stack, you take a deep breath and stand. You’ll bring these to Miss Min and request to be removed from the case. It’s the only way to salvage what’s left of your integrity and maybe even your sanity.But before you can take a step, there’s a knock at your door.

“Come in.”

The door opens to reveal Dani with a bright smile plastered across her face. She steps inside, holding a clipboard in one hand and a tablet in the other.

“Hey, just the person I was looking for!” she says cheerfully.

You blink, setting the files back down on your desk. “What’s up?”

“Miss Min wanted me to stop by and let you know something,” Dani says, her tone chipper. “She saw Sakura in your office earlier and said you’ve been doing a great job with this case. And since there hasn’t been any bad press with Heeseung lately, she thinks tomorrow’s the perfect day to announce their engagement!”

The words hit you like a freight train. Tomorrow.

You knew this day was coming—it’s what you’ve been working toward. But now that it’s here, the reality of it is suffocating. You force yourself to nod. “That’s…great news.”

Dani’s smile widens. “I know, right? This was your first major case and you killed it! Miss Min is definitely going to put you in charge of more high-profile clients after this.”

“Yeah,” you say quietly, the word feeling hollow. “I’m happy.”

Dani doesn’t seem to notice the strain in your voice. She beams at you one last time before turning to leave but then she pauses and looks back over her shoulder.

“Oh, and Miss Min said you’ve earned a day off tomorrow. Just be on standby in case Heeseung or Sakura need anything.”

You nod again, managing a faint smile. “Thanks for letting me know.”

“No problem! Enjoy your night!” Dani chirps before disappearing out the door.

The moment she’s gone, you sink back into your chair, the files still sitting in front of you. Tomorrow. It feels like a death sentence.

You’re supposed to be proud of yourself, supposed to feel accomplished for guiding Heeseung and Sakura to this point. But all you feel is empty.

Your gaze drifts to your phone on the desk and as if on cue, the screen lights up with a text notification.

9:12 am | heeseung: hey, can we talk?9:14 am | heeseung: please come over tonight.

Your heart pounds as you stare at the messages. You know what you should do. You should say no, maintain the little professional boundaries left and keep your distance. You should focus on preparing yourself for tomorrow, for the inevitable. But you can’t.

You’ve always been selfish when it comes to Heeseung, unable to deny him anything. So you type out a reply before you can think better of it.

9:22 am | you: i’ll stop by after work.

Setting the phone down, you try to convince yourself that this will be the last time. You’ll go over there, tell him the kiss was a mistake and tell him about the engagement announcement. You’ll encourage him to give Sakura a real chance.

Yeah, you’ll do the right thing.

You spend the rest of the afternoon finishing up paperwork, your mind elsewhere the entire time. By the time the clock hits 7 p.m, you’ve packed up your things and are preparing to leave when your phone buzzes with an incoming FaceTime call.

It’s Yunho.

You sigh softly before answering, his smiling face filling the screen.

“Yo,” he greets. “You up for game night at mine? Chisa’s already on her way.”

You hesitate, “I can’t tonight. My first day back was a bit overwhelming. I just need some sleep.”

Yunho frowns, clearly not convinced. “You sure? I don’t want you falling back into a slump.”

“I’m fine. I promise. Just tired. I’ll stop by tomorrow—I’m off, so I’ll spend the whole day with you.”

He studies you for a moment before nodding reluctantly. “Alright. But you better not flake on me.”

“I won’t,” you say softly. “Thanks, Yunho.”

“Anytime,” he says before ending the call.

You exhale slowly, setting your phone aside. You gather your things and head to your car. The drive to Heeseung’s home feels excruciatingly long, your thoughts racing the entire way. By the time you pull up to his home your nerves are frayed but you force yourself to get out of the car and head inside.

This is it. One last time.

You make your way up the familiar stone steps to Heeseung’s front door. Your hand hovers for a moment before you knock, three soft taps against the wood.

A beat passes. Then another. Then another. For a moment, you wonder if he changed his mind about wanting to see you, but then you hear the faint shuffle of footsteps on the other side. The door opens, revealing Heeseung. His expression is unreadable.

“Hey,” he says softly, his voice a little raspy.

“Hey,” you reply.

He steps aside to let you in and you hesitantly cross the threshold, the warmth of his home doing little to soothe the chill in your bones. The atmosphere is tense and awkward in a way that neither of you seems to know how to address.

The last time it felt like this was the first time you met him, when you were still trying to figure him out and he was sizing you up in return. That day, you were both strangers, carefully tiptoeing around each other. And now…now, things couldn’t be more complicated.

Heeseung leads you into the living room and gestures for you to sit and you do, choosing the far end of the couch. The space you put between you feels significant, like a boundary you’re desperately trying to maintain.

Heeseung watches you for a moment before sitting down as well, leaning back slightly but keeping his eyes fixed on you. You clutch the strap of your bag, running your fingers along the leather in an attempt to calm yourself. The silence is thick, and you don’t know how to start.

You break first. “Miss Min is announcing the engagement tomorrow.”

The words hang in the air. You glance at him but his expression doesn’t betray much. Heeseung’s gaze shifts away for a moment then back to you. His jaw tightens and he exhales deeply.

“I’m calling it off,” he says suddenly, his voice steady and sure.

Your heart stops. You stare at him, certain you misheard. “W-what?”

“I’m calling it off,” he repeats, turning to face you fully. His eyes are locked onto yours, and the intensity in them makes it impossible to look away. “I’m done prioritizing everyone else’s happiness over my own. I can’t keep pretending to be okay with this.”

You blink at him stunned. Your mind races, trying to make sense of his words. “Heeseung…you can’t just—”

“I don’t want Sakura,” he interrupts. He leans forward slightly, closing some of the distance between you. “I want you.”

The confession feels like a punch to the gut. You shake your head, your hands gripping the strap of your bag even tighter. “No. Heeseung, you don’t mean that.”

“I do,” he says without hesitation. “I’ve tried to deny it, to push it down but I can’t anymore. I can’t lie to myself—or to you.”

“Heeseung—”

“I know this isn’t how things were supposed to happen. I know the way this started was unconventional but none of that changes the way I feel about you.”

You’re frozen, unable to respond.

“I like you. I’ve spent the past month trying to ignore it, trying to convince myself that it was just…a passing thing. But it’s not. I can’t stop thinking about you. About the way you challenge me, the way you see through all the bullshit, the way you care.” He says, his voice trembling just slightly.

His words are a direct hit to your heart. You swallow hard, your throat tight as tears prick at the corners of your eyes. “I want you too,” you admit, your voice barely audible. “But we can’t.”

“Why not? Who says we can’t?” He asks, his tone almost desperate now. He scoots closer to you on the couch, his knees brushing against yours.

You shake your head, trying to find the right words. “Because…because it’s messy and wrong, Heeseung. You’re engaged to someone else. Someone kind and sweet who doesn’t deserve to be hurt.”

Heeseung reaches out, his hands cupping your face gently forcing you to look at him. His touch is warm. “I don’t want her. I want you.”

“Heeseung…” you choke out.

“I don’t care how messy it is. I don’t care what anyone else thinks. All I care about is you and I need to know if you feel the same.”

You hesitate, your heart conflicting with your mind. Every rational part of you is screaming that this is a mistake, that you’re walking into dangerous territory. But your heart…your heart is begging you to take the leap.

“I…” Your voice falters, and you look into his eyes, the sincerity in them making it impossible to lie. “I do. I feel the same.”

His lips part slightly, relief washing over his face. “Then that’s all that matters.”

You shake your head again, tears slipping down your cheeks. “But it’s not that simple.”

“It is,” he insists, his hands still cradling your face. “It is if you want it to be. Just say yes.”

“Heeseung…”

“Please,” he whispers, his voice breaking slightly. “Just say yes.”

Your heart feels like it’s going to explode. You know you shouldn’t, you know this is dangerous, but you can’t bring yourself to deny him. You’ve never been able to deny him and you don’t think you could now, not when he’s looking at you like this, like you’re the only thing that matters in the world.

“Okay,” you whisper, barely able to get the word out. “Yes.”

Heeseung exhales sharply, like he’s been holding his breath this entire time. And then before you can second-guess yourself, his lips are on yours. The kiss is soft at first, almost hesitant, but it quickly deepens, his hands sliding to the back of your neck to pull you closer.

You melt into him, every doubt, every fear fading away as his warmth envelops you. In this moment, nothing else matters. Just him. Just this.

You part your lips slightly, letting him deepen the kiss. His tongue brushes against yours and a quiet whimper escapes your throat, the sound swallowed by his kiss. Heeseung’s grip tightens, one hand sliding down to your waist as he pulls you impossibly closer.

You barely register the moment when he tugs you into his lap, your knees straddling him as his hands settle on your hips. You instinctively brace your hands on his shoulders. His warmth radiates through the fabric of his shirt, his broad chest firm beneath your palms. You can feel his heart pounding just as wildly as your own.

It feels right; this moment, his touch, the way he holds you. For a fleeting second, you remember all the things you need to address. All the unanswered questions about how this will work, what it will mean for both of you. But right now, none of that seems important. Right now, you focus on the way his lips move against yours, the way his hands hold you as if he never wants to let go.

Your breath hitches when you feel him harden beneath you, the unmistakable evidence of his desire making heat pool low in your belly. The realization sends a flush of warmth spreading across your cheeks, but Heeseung doesn’t give you a moment to linger on it. His grip on your hips tightens slightly as he kisses you deeper.

Without breaking the kiss, he stands, his hands sliding under your thighs to lift you effortlessly. A gasp escapes you, muffled against his mouth as your arms wrap instinctively around his neck. He carries you through the house, navigating the short distance to his bedroom with ease.

When he sets you down on the bed his movements are slow and deliberate. His lips leave yours for a brief moment, and you’re left catching your breath as he pulls back just enough to look at you. The way he gazes down at you makes your chest tighten and pussy clench. There’s so much emotion in his eyes, all mixed together in a way that makes you feel both shy and hot under his gaze.

You look away for a moment, heat rising to your cheeks but Heeseung gently tilts your chin back to face him. “Do you want this?” he asks. His hands fall down to your hips, pushing up your blouse to feel the softness of your stomach beneath his palms.

You look at him through your lashes and stare at his face for a minute trying to decipher what he’s thinking. He’s always been a person who wears their emotions on their face, and now, as you look up into his eyes searching for any hesitation— you find none. You find nothing but pure want and admiration.

“Yes,” you whisper. “I want this. I want you.”

The corners of his lips lift in a small relieved smile and then he’s leaning down again, capturing your mouth in another kiss.

Heeseung pulls back just slightly, his hands still resting on your hips as his eyes search yours. His fingers trail lightly along the hem of your blouse and he murmurs, “Raise your arms for me.” You do as he asks, lifting your arms above your head and Heeseung takes his time peeling your shirt off, his knuckles brushing your skin as he tugs it free. The fabric falls to the floor and he pauses for a moment to take you in. His gaze sweeps over you with such hunger that you lose your breath.

Heeseung pulls his own shirt off in one smooth motion and you can’t help but stare. His chest rises and falls steadily, his toned muscles illuminated in the dim light of the room. He catches your gaze and offers you a small reassuring smile as he leans closer again.

You bite your bottom lip suddenly feeling self-conscious under his intense gaze but Heeseung seems to notice. He cups your cheek, his thumb brushing lightly over your skin. “Don’t be nervous,” he whispers, his voice gentle, soothing. “I’ll be gentle.”

You nod slightly, your lips parting as he leans down to press another kiss to your lips. His hands trail down to the clasp of your bra and he pauses for just a moment, giving you time to stop him if you want to. When you don’t, he deftly unhooks it and slides it off your shoulders.

Your breath hitches as the cool air grazes your skin and Heeseung takes a moment to admire you, his eyes softening as if committing every inch of you to memory. His tenderness feels almost overwhelming, and your heart beats wildly as he gently lays you back down on the bed.

He leans in again, placing a soft peck on your lips before his mouth begins a slow descent. His lips trail kisses down your collarbone, lingering for a moment before continuing down the center of your chest.

When his lips reach your navel he pauses, his warm breath fanning over your skin. “Can I taste you baby?”

You shyly nod at the question and use of pet name not used to it. Heeseung shakes his head though, “no baby. I need to hear you say yes. C’mon, let me hear that beautiful voice.”

You lift your hips off his bed not able to voice your wants. He smirks and kisses your naval again. “C’mon baby, tell me what you want.”

You huff frustrated. “Heeseung please…I need you.”

“There we go.”

He helps you unbutton your slacks and slides them down your legs and tosses them onto the growing pile on the floor. Heeseung grips onto the band of your panties and slides them down. Once you’re completely naked, he dips his fingers into your sticky dripping pussy.

He hisses at the feeling of your warm cunt wrapped around his fingers “Mmm, you’re so wet, baby,” he says, a pathetic whimper escapes you in response.

Heesueng dives his head in between your thighs and kisses your clit just once before pulling his head back again. There’s a few seconds of silence, of anticipating what he’s going to do next.

You gasp as you watch him lock eyes with you before spitting directly onto your clit. You bite your lip to keep in the moan that wants to escape at the feeling of his spit dripping from your clit down your pussy, making a mess of you and his sheets beneath you.

Heeseung leans back down and latches onto your clit, sucking harshly. Pleasure shoots through your veins and your stomach clenches. Heeseung groans, the vibration making you shake underneath him. His eyes flutter closed, savoring the feeling of your legs thrown over his shoulders and the taste of you.

His tongue laps up your juices, he’s slurping loudly enjoying every drop of your sweet arousal on his tongue. He licks fast up and down your pussy, parting your folds with the tip of his hot tongue. Your legs are shaking, your right hand tangles in his hair to make sure he stays down. "H-heeseung," you hiccup, starting to grind your hips for added pleasure.

Heeseung moans, flicking his tongue on your clit quickly. You feel his fingers at your entrance again, playing with your slick, stroking up and down your folds. Your breath quickens more, you can hear your heartbeat in your ears.

“Fuck,” you whimper, wincing at the slight burn as he inserts two fingers into you slowly. You haven’t had anything inside of you for so long, you welcome the pain that comes with it.

“Gonna stretch you out nice and good,” Heeseung growls against your sopping cunt. “Make sure you’re ready to take my fat cock, isn’t that right baby?”

You nod dumbly at his words, grinding your hips onto his fingers as the tightening feeling in your lower stomach keeps building.

"Oh, f-fuck, baby, I’m gonna cum." You’re starting to babble, moans becoming increasingly higher in pitch. You try pushing yourself higher up on the bed trying to escape his grasp, it’s all too much. Your thighs start shaking and Heeseung takes it upon himself to grip a little tighter to keep you in place.

He practically buries his face in your pussy, stimulating you with his tongue and the tip of his nose whilst still fucking you with his fingers. He grunts, sucking on your pussy whilst flicking his tongue over your swollen clit, his fingers curling deep inside of you.

“Cum for me doll,” Heeseung begs, desperate to pull an orgasm from you just to lick it all up. “Be a good girl and cum on my face.”

"Oh fuck," you choke out, your hips bucking.

Your legs close up on him, nearly crushing his head. Your fingers pull on his hair but Heeseung keeps on licking and sucking the whole time. With the pressure on your clit and the fullness of his fingers scissoring deep in your core you can’t help it, the budding tightness unraveling as you come onto his tongue. Your body shakes lightly, trembling in his grip as you let out loud needy moans.

“Fuck, you’re so beautiful,” He confesses as he watches you ride out your orgasm.

Heeseung pulls back and exhales shakily, his thumb tracing gentle circles on your hip as he leans down to press a soft, lingering kiss to your lips. “I’ll be right back,” he murmurs, his voice tender.

You nod still, catching your breath, watching as he pushes himself up from the bed. He moves to his bathroom and disappears behind the partially open door. You hear the faint rustle of a cabinet being opened, and your heart races when you catch sight of him returning with a small box in his hand.

Heeseung sets the box down on the nightstand and pulls out a single foil packet. His movements are deliberate but unhurried, as if giving you all the time in the world to change your mind.

When he settles back beside you he cups your face with one hand and kisses you softly, his lips conveying reassurance and care. “We don’t have to go any further,” he says, his forehead resting against yours. “We can stop here if you want.”

His sincerity makes your heart flutter and for a moment all you can do is stare into his eyes. But then you lean in, your lips brushing his as you whisper, “I don’t want to stop.”

You don’t let the kiss last long, pulling away to look Heeseung in his eyes as you slowly sink to your knees in front of him. He gulps as he watches you with hooded eyes, lifting his hips so you can remove his sweats and boxers. The moment his cock springs out, your jaw nearly drops to the floor. Not only is he long, but he’s also thick and veiny. Your mouth waters at the sight of it, he twitches in the air, red and angry waiting for attention.

You flick your eyes up to meet Heeseung’s impatient gaze before wrapping your dominant hand around the base and slowly tugging. Heeseung groans at the feeling and spreads his legs a bit more to give you better access. You kiss the tip of his erect cock, slowly opening your mouth to suck at the tip of his dick. You wrap your lips around his head, slowly sucking the tip into your mouth as precum drips out and coats your tongue.

Heeseung lets out a breathy moan, thrusting into your mouth slightly as he urges you to take him deeper into your mouth. You willingly swallow more of him, tongue swirling around his head, groaning at the taste of his precum.

You begin bobbing your head, taking more and more of his hard length into your mouth. Heeseung grips on to your hair and slides you further down his length. “That’s it, princess. Take this big dick down your throat.” He begins thrusting his hips gradually, forcing more and more of his cock into your mouth until you take in his whole shaft, your face pressed against his lower abdomen.

Heeseung thrusts harder into your mouth, losing himself in the feel of your lips wrapped tightly around him, letting out a small groan whenever you flick your tongue against his slit, licking the precum.

“F-fuck just like that.” You’re slowly coating his cock in your saliva, the mixture of your spit and his precum turning him into a sticky mess.

Wet sounds of gagging resound through the air, mingling with the sounds of Heeseung thrusting into your mouth. You feel his cock twitch inside you before he says. “Gonna swallow all my cum like a good girl? Hm?”

You hum around him, eager to bring him over the edge. “Oh, oh fuck, I’m cumming.” Heeseung groans, gritting his teeth. He thrusts his hip one last time before cumming. You feel his cum shoot down the back of your throat and you make sure to swallow the warm liquid, not wasting a single drop.

“Fuck. You’re amazing” Heeseung mutters, pulling you off of his dick before kissing you, tasting himself. You kiss him back fervently, your fingers burying into his red locks.

“I need you Hee,” You whimper.

Heeseung nods and picks you up to lay you flat on your back. “Anything for you princess.” He leans over to grab the condom from earlier and opens the foil. He tosses the wrapping and slowly slides the condom down his shaft. Once he’s sure it’s secure he hovers over your body just taking you in.

You blush but whine, spreading your legs a bit more. “Heeseung….please.”

He smirks at the desperation in your voice before leaning down to close his lips over your right nipple. You whimper at the feeling of his tongue on your nipple, sucking it into his mouth before pulling back and blowing cold air on it.

You lay still, anticipating his next move. His eyes flick down. “Your pussy looks so fucking good.” Heeseung says, letting the pink tip of his dick rub against your wet folds. You both moan at the sensation.

With one more rub of his head, he lines himself against your entrance and slowly pushes his hips forward. You think you could come instantly.

Heeseung shifts above you, moving so his hands cage you between both his arms. You moan as he slowly enters you, his girth stretching your pussy out. He buries his face into the crook of your neck and places a kiss at the juncture of your jaw and neck at the feeling of your walls clamping around him. Finally, when he’s completely in your pussy, his head grazing cervix, he stills and shifts his head to meet your eyes. You look up at him through hazy, half lidded eyes, completely lost in the way he opens you up. Heeseung stills for a couple moments, allowing you to get used to his size before pulling out and thrusting in once again, this time in one smooth glide. You let out a choked-out moan, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist.

The intimacy is overwhelming, a closeness that feels as though it’s unraveling you and putting you back together all at once. He holds you like you’re something precious, something fragile, as if he’s afraid you might slip away if he isn’t careful.

His gaze never leaves yours. The way his eyes search your face, looking for any sign of discomfort fills you with a warmth you’ve never known. There’s no urgency in him, no impatience, just a steady gentle rhythm.

“Right t-there” You mewl, slowly losing yourself in all the pleasure. Heeseung tucks his head under yours and grins against your skin, biting your collarbone gently before sucking a hickey on your skin. He trails kisses down to the valley of your breasts, pressing a kiss against your sternum before taking a nipple into his mouth, suckling gingerly. “P-please Hee, can’t…gonna cum” You babble, unable to form a coherent sentence.

You faintly acknowledge Heeseung grinning against your chest, his right hand slowly inches towards your own before entwining it with your own. Holding your hand over his sheets. You can feel him pour out all his emotions into each and every action as he thrusts into you over and over again.

“You’re so beautiful.” Heeseung whispers.

All of a sudden you cum without warning, the pressure too much. Heeseung pushes your hips down into the bed, pounding relentlessly into you, chasing his own high. He hammers into you one last time before letting out a loud groan as he empties himself into the condom, spurt after spurt of his cum pouring into you.

The world feels quiet now, the only sound in the room your mingled breaths as you both come down from the high. Heeseung’s forehead rests against yours, his hand still clasping yours tightly as if letting go would somehow make the moment less real. His thumb strokes over your knuckles.

“You okay?” he asks softly, his voice hoarse and laced with concern.

You nod, barely able to gather the words to respond. “I’m okay,” you whisper.

A small, relieved smile touches his lips before he leans down, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. Heeseung shifts slightly, careful not to crush you as he pulls out. You wince at the sensitivity and he quickly apologizes.

“Stay here,” he murmurs, reluctantly letting go of your hand. He slips out of bed, the mattress dipping slightly under his movement.

You watch as he crosses the room, disposing of the condom in the bathroom and cleaning himself off before grabbing a warm damp cloth. When he returns, he kneels beside the bed, his touch impossibly gentle as he cleans you up murmuring soft reassurances. “You did so well,” he says quietly, his voice full of affection. “Thank you… for trusting me with you.”

Your cheeks warm, but you manage a soft smile and nod.

Heeseung’s gaze softens even further, and he presses a kiss to your knee before standing to place the cloth aside. He joins you back in bed, pulling the sheets up over your bodies before tugging you into his arms. You rest your head on his chest, your legs tangling with his as his hand strokes your back in soothing circles.

“You’re amazing,” he murmurs, his fingers drawing lazy patterns on your back. “I hope you know that.”

You huff a small laugh, finally finding your voice. “You don’t have to flatter me, you already got what you wanted.”

Heeseung chuckles, the sound vibrating through his chest. “Maybe I just like telling you how I feel.” He tilts his head to look at you, his expression soft and unguarded. “Can I?”

You glance up at him, confused. “Can you what?”

“Tell you more about me…The messy parts. The things I don’t usually share.”

Your breath catches slightly at the vulnerability in his voice but you nod. “I’d like that.”

His grip on you tightens just a little, as if you're his own personal stress ball. He doesn’t start talking right away, his thumb brushing along your shoulder as if he’s organizing his thoughts. You don’t rush him content to lie there in his embrace waiting for him to open up.

Finally, he speaks. “When I was fifteen, my brother Heejoon was seventeen,” he begins, his voice quiet but steady. “He was… everything you’d expect from an eldest son in our family—smart, responsible, always trying to do the right thing. But he struggled a lot too. Heejoon always had anxiety. It wasn’t obvious at first; he’d just get nervous about things other people didn’t think twice about. But as we got older… it got worse.”

You shift slightly in his arms looking up at him with concern. Heeseung’s gaze is fixed on the ceiling, his jaw tight as he continues.

“Our dad…he’s a no-nonsense kind of man. Everything is about discipline, results, and maintaining the family’s reputation. That summer, he was preparing Heejoon to start interning at the company. Heejoon was terrified but he didn’t tell anyone. He didn’t want to disappoint our dad. So he just… pushed himself harder. He started focusing on the business, trying to prepare, but his grades started slipping. He was so afraid of letting Dad down that he…he cheated on a final exam.”

Heeseung clears his throat. “He got caught and Dad had to bribe the teacher to keep it off his record and let him retake the exam. He was livid, but he didn’t hit him or anything. He’s never laid a hand on us. But his words…” Heeseung’s voice falters, and he looks away.

Your heart aches for him, for Heejoon. You reach up, cupping his cheek and gently guiding his gaze back to you. “What happened?” you whisper.

Heeseung closes his eyes for a moment, like he’s reliving the memory. “Heejoon couldn’t take it anymore. The pressure to be perfect, to be something he wasn’t…that night, after Dad tore into him, he tried to kill himself.”

Your heart drops at the confirmation of what you knew all along.

“I was the one who found him,” Heeseung continues, his voice barely audible now. “We got him to the hospital in time, but… he was never the same after that. His will to live was just… gone.”

You sit up slightly, your eyes searching his face. “Heeseung…”

He meets your gaze, his own eyes glassy but resolute. “Heejoon’s alive. But he’s not… He’s not the same person he used to be.”

You gently take his hand in both of yours, your fingers wrapping around his as if to anchor him. “I’m so sorry you had to go through that,” you say softly, your voice steady but full of empathy. “And I’m so glad he’s still here. Heeseung… You’ve been through so much and you’re still here too. You’re still fighting. That means something.”

Heeseung shakes his head slowly, his grip on your body tightening. “I blamed myself for years,” he murmurs, his voice strained. “I saw how much he was struggling and I didn’t do anything. I was his little brother—I was supposed to have his back and I didn’t. I just stood there, thinking he’d be fine because he was Heejoon. He was always the strong one.”

His voice cracks and you reach up brushing your fingers lightly along his jaw, grounding him. He leans into your touch almost unconsciously, his eyes fluttering closed for a moment.

“When I see him now…” He pauses, exhaling shakily. “I can’t stop thinking about how different his life could’ve been if I’d just said something. If I’d told someone how scared he was, how much pressure he was under. Maybe… maybe he wouldn’t have felt like he had no other choice.” His gaze drops to yours, his eyes shimmering with unshed tears. “I failed him.”

Your chest tightens at the rawness in his voice, the weight he’s been carrying alone for so long. “Heeseung,” you say softly, “you didn’t fail him. You were a kid too, trying to survive in the same house under the same pressure. You did the best you could with what you knew then. That matters.”

His lips twitch faintly, but the guilt in his eyes doesn’t fade. “Some days, it doesn’t feel like enough,” he admits quietly.

“It is,” you insist, leaning closer your hand still resting against his cheek. “Every time you show up for Heejoon, every time you keep going, you’re proving how much you care. You’re making him proud, Heeseung. I know it.”

Heeseung looks at you for a long moment, his gaze filled with something you can’t quite place. Finally, he nods, his grip on you tightening slightly. “Thank you,” he says, his voice thick with emotion.

“Where’s Heejoon now?” you ask gently.

“He’s in an assisted living facility,” Heeseung replies. “After the incident, Dad couldn’t… He couldn’t live with him anymore. The guilt ate at him so he sent him away to get professional help. Heejoon’s been there ever since. He’s getting better, slowly. His doctors think he might be able to come home soon.”

You smile softly. “That’s good. I’m glad he’s getting the help he needs.”

Heeseung nods, his expression thoughtful. “I visit him every weekend,” he says.

Your brows furrow slightly. “Every weekend?”

Heeseung glances at you, his brows raising in question.

You hesitate before continuing. “The tabloids… They say you sneak off to Jeju every weekend to sleep with a new model,” you say carefully.

Heeseung scoffs, the sound almost bitter. “Heejoon’s care facility is in Jeju,” he explains. “My parents didn’t want anyone knowing what happened so they sent him there to keep it quiet.”

Your heart aches at the weight he must’ve been carrying alone. “So… those rumors?”

“Bullshit,” Heeseung says firmly. “You’re the first person I’ve slept with in years.”

You blink surprised. “Really?”

He nods. “I won’t lie and say I’ve never slept around. I did, but that was during my undergrad days… before I met Karina.”

The name sends a jolt through you, his ex who he allegedly forced to get an abortion. “Who’s Karina?” you ask carefully, playing oblivious to know the truth.

Heeseung’s expression shifts, the room is quiet save for the hum of the heater and the faint rustle of the sheets as he shifts closer. His hand trails absently along your arm, his touch warm “She was… the first person I ever loved,” he admits.

You listen intently as he begins to tell you about her. He shares how their relationship came to be, how she made him feel seen in a way no one else ever had but he also tells you about the heartbreak that followed when she left. About her carrying another man's baby and leaving because it wasn’t fair to Heeseung despite how badly he wanted her to stay.

Heeseung exhales, his voice trembling just slightly. “I should’ve fought harder. I should’ve convinced her to stay. Instead, I let her go. I told myself it was what she wanted but deep down, I think I was scared. Scared of everything that came with loving her, scared I’d mess it all up anyway.”

He pauses, his fingers grazing your back, his gaze distant. “It’s a pattern, you know? People leave me but maybe… maybe it’s because I push them away first. Like I did with her.”

His words hang heavy in the air. You sit up slightly, leaning on your elbow to face him. “Heeseung, listen to me,” you say softly, your right hand resting gently on his chest. “What happened with Karina wasn’t your fault. You need to stop carrying this like it was all on you, like you had the power to change everything. There’s nothing wrong with you, and you’re more than deserving of love—then and now.”

His lips part slightly as if to protest but no words come out. His eyes search yours, filled with doubt and pain, as though he’s grappling with the possibility of believing you.

“She didn’t leave because you weren’t enough,” you continue. “You were both young, and Karina… she was stuck in an impossible situation. That doesn’t mean you failed her, Heeseung. It doesn’t mean you were to blame. Her insecurities, her choices—they weren’t your burden to carry or fix. Just because you had a past, just because you were more experienced, doesn’t mean you pushed her away. Those were her fears, not a reflection of your worth.”

His grip on your waist tightens slightly, his breathing uneven. His eyes glisten with unshed tears as his brows draw together, struggling with the truth in your words.

“You have to let go of this idea that you’re the reason things fell apart,” you whisper, brushing your thumb tenderly along his jawline. “Sometimes people leave not because of anything you did but because they don’t know how to stay. It’s not about you being enough—it never was. And it doesn’t mean you’re not enough now.”

Heeseung swallows hard, his head dipping as his forehead presses lightly against yours. “I don’t know if I can believe that yet,” he murmurs, his voice barely audible.

“That’s okay,” you reply, your voice soft but resolute. “I’ll remind you as many times as it takes.”

For a moment the room falls into stillness, the only sound is the mingling of your breaths. You feel his arm wrap tighter around your midsection pulling you closer, the tension in his shoulders easing ever so slightly.

Then, in the quiet you speak, your voice barely above a whisper. “Heeseung… I already knew about Karina”

His head pulls back slightly, his brows furrowing in confusion as his gaze locks onto yours. “What do you mean?” He asks, his tone cautious, tinged with uncertainty.

You take in a breath gathering the courage to continue. “I knew about her. About what people said. Before you told me.”

His confusion deepens, flickers of uncertainty and hurt shadowing his expression. “How?” he asks softly, his voice low and guarded, his walls creeping back up.

You hesitate, your fingers fidgeting with the edge of the blanket draped over you both but you push through the fear because this is Heeseung and he deserves honesty.

“Remember how I told you Chisa is a journalist?” you begin carefully.

Heeseung nods slowly but you can already see it—the way his shoulders tense, the way his eyes darken. His defenses are rising, and it crushes you to watch the vulnerability you’d shared moments ago slip away.

“Chisa is writing an exposé. About your college days. She has a source—someone who knows about Karina, about the rumors that you…that you asked her to get an abortion.”

Heeseung goes still, his body tensing beneath your touch. He’s silent for a moment, his gaze fixed behind you. Then finally he speaks his voice sharp and clipped. “How long have you known?”

You swallow the lump forming in your throat, knowing there’s no point in lying. “Chisa got put on the article the day we first met but I didn’t find out about the rumors until… the day you asked me to dinner.”

Heeseung’s jaw tightens and he slowly pulls away from you, the space between you growing wider as your heart drops. He sits up slightly, running a hand through his hair. His expression is a mix of hurt and disbelief.

You instinctively grab the blanket to cover your bare body, not out of modesty but because the emotional distance feels unbearable. “Heeseung…” you begin softly, but he cuts you off.

“You knew all this time,” he says, his voice low and tinged with disbelief. “And you didn’t say anything?”

“I didn’t know how,” you say quickly, your voice trembling. “Heeseung, you have to understand—Chisa is my best friend. This article is everything to her.”

He lets out a bitter laugh, shaking his head as he runs a hand through his hair. “And what about me?” he asks, his voice rising slightly. “Did you even think about what that could do to me? About how I’d feel if you believed those rumors?”

“I didn’t believe them. I didn’t, Heeseung but I didn’t know you then. I didn’t know how to bring it up or if I even should! You have to understand—if I said anything to you or Miss Min, it would’ve meant the end of my friendship with Chisa. I didn’t know what to do.”

Heeseung’s gaze is piercing, his silence more cutting than any words he could’ve said. You feel the weight of his disappointment, his hurt and it tears at you.

You feel tears threaten to spill over now but you don’t bother wiping them away. Instead, you reach for his hand, grabbing onto it tightly even as he stiffens under your touch. The blanket slips from your body leaving you exposed but you don’t care. You need him to understand.

“This wasn’t an easy decision to make. I’ve been stuck between my best friend and her career and the guy I—” You catch yourself, your breath hitching. “The guy I care about. I’m sorry I didn’t say something sooner. I’m sorry I hurt you but I don’t want you to be blindsided by this Heeseung. I don’t want you to be hurt anymore. That’s why I’m telling you now.”

Heeseung stares at you, his expression softening slightly as your words sink in. He exhales deeply, the anger in his gaze giving way to understanding. “Okay,” he says softly after a long moment, his tone laced with exhaustion. “Okay.”

Before you can say anything else, he pulls you into his arms, his hand cradling the back of your head as you bury your face in his shoulder. “Don’t cry,” he murmurs, his voice gentle again. “Please don’t cry. I’m not mad at you.”

“Are you sure?” you whisper, your voice muffled against his skin.

He nods, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “I could never stay mad at you.”

The two of you settle back under the covers, his arms holding you close again not leaving any space between the two of you. After a beat of silence, Heeseung speaks again. “I have to pull the plug on the article… you know that, right?”

You nod against his chest, your heart sinking at the thought of what this will mean for Chisa and your friendship. “Can you at least let me tell her before you make any phone calls?”

Heeseung hesitates, his fingers massaging your shoulder as he considers your request. “Are you sure you’ll be able to do that? To look her in the eyes and tell her you’re the reason her dreams won’t come true?”

You flinch at the harshness of his words, but you understand where they’re coming from. “I have to,” you say quietly. “I owe her that much.”

Heeseung exhales, nodding reluctantly. “Okay.”

He holds you closer, his chin resting on the top of your head as the two of you sit in silence. Despite everything, there’s a strange sense of comfort in knowing you don’t have to carry this secret anymore. As the minutes stretch on, the tension slowly fades, replaced by the steady rhythm of your breaths syncing together. And eventually, the two of you drift off to sleep, tangled in each other’s arms.

THE NEXT MORNING

You wake up slowly, sunlight streaming through the curtains and warming the room. For a moment, you forget where you are, your body pressed against soft sheets and someone warm and firm beside you. Blinking, the events of last night come flooding back and a soft smile tugs at your lips. You hadn’t planned to stay the night but waking up here wrapped in Heeseung’s arms, doesn’t feel like a mistake. It feels… right.

Shifting slightly, you glance over at him. He’s still asleep, his features relaxed and peaceful in the early morning light. His hair is slightly mussed, his lips parted as he breathes deeply. He looks younger like this, the weight he often carries nowhere in sight.

You try to move carefully not wanting to wake him up but the slight shift of your body stirs him. His arms tighten instinctively around your waist, pulling you closer as his eyes flutter open.

“Morning,” he murmurs, his voice husky with sleep and a small smile curving his lips.

“Morning,” you reply softly, your own smile growing.

Heeseung leans in and presses a lingering kiss to your lips, his hand coming up to cup your cheek. When he pulls back, his eyes are filled with a warmth that makes your heart race. “I could get used to waking up like this,” he says, his voice still low.

You laugh softly, brushing a strand of hair from his face, the silky red strands slipping through your fingers. “As nice as this is, I really should get going. Chisa’s probably worried about me.”

Before you can move, Heeseung tightens his hold on you, burying his face in your neck with a dramatic sigh. When he pulls back just enough to meet your gaze, his lower lip juts out in a pout so exaggerated it almost makes you laugh out loud.

“Stay,” he whines, his voice soft and petulant. “Just for a little longer. Please?”

You blink, momentarily stunned. This side of him is so unlike the composed and confident Heeseung you’ve grown accustomed to. The playful pout on his lips, the slight scrunch of his nose, and the sparkle of mischief in his eyes are all so…unexpected.

And yet, you think to yourself, you’d like to see this version of him more often, this carefree boyish Heeseung who doesn’t seem burdened.

You shake your head, laughing. “Heeseung, as much as I’d love to stay in bed all day, I promised Yunho I’d spend the day with him. And knowing my friends, Jaehyun and Chisa are probably going to tag along.”

At the mention of your plans, Heeseung lets out a resigned sigh, finally releasing his hold on you. “Fine,” he mutters, feigning annoyance. “But only because I’m trying to be supportive of your friendships.”

You sit up, the blanket slipping from your shoulders as you begin gathering your clothes. As you pull your shirt over your head, you glance over at Heeseung. “What about you? What are your plans for the day?”

He clears his throat, his gaze flickering briefly away before returning to you as you move around the room. “I called Miss Min last night,” he begins quietly. “Postponed announcing the engagement.”

Your hands still for a moment, your chest tightening as you think of Sakura and what this means for her. “What are you going to do?” you ask, your voice barely above a whisper.

Heeseung sighs, his fingers raking through his hair. “I need to talk to Sakura today. In person, it’s the least I can do,” he says softly.

Your heart sinks a little further, your thoughts drifting to Sakura’s feelings for him and how this will affect her. “Let me know how it goes,” you say gently, folding your arms across your chest. “I’d like to apologize to her too.”

Heeseung hesitates, his brows knitting together. “You don’t have to do that,” he says, his voice firm but gentle. “I don’t mind taking the blame for this. You don’t need to get involved any more than you already are.”

You shake your head firmly. “No, Heeseung. I’m just as complicit in all of this. You shouldn’t have to shoulder all the blame—not after everything you’ve already been through. I need to own my part in it too.”

His gaze softens as he looks at you, and he takes a step closer, his hands brushing gently against your waist. He studies you for a moment before nodding, a small smile tugging at his lips. “You’re something else, you know that?”

You roll your eyes, trying to mask the flutter of your heart. “Don’t try to distract me with compliments,” you tease lightly, though the smile on your lips betrays your feigned irritation.

Heeseung chuckles softly, pulling you closer for a brief moment before letting his hands fall away. “I mean it,” he murmurs.

Once you’re dressed, you grab your phone from the nightstand, only to find it completely dead. Letting out a sigh, you glance over at Heeseung, who is now standing by the bed in just his boxers.

“You should probably put some clothes on,” you tease, unable to stop the smile that forms as he approaches you.

Heeseung smirks, his hands finding their way to your waist as he pulls you close. “Why? Planning on staying a little longer?”

You roll your eyes but your heart flutters as he leans down to kiss you. It’s slow and unhurried, filled with a tenderness that makes you momentarily forget why you need to leave.

When he finally pulls back, you sigh. “As tempting as that is, I really need to go. I have to tell Chisa about the article.”

“Stay for breakfast, at least?” he asks, his tone hopeful.

You hesitate, but the look in his eyes makes it impossible to say no. “Fine,” you relent, laughing softly. “One day, I’ll learn how to tell you no.”

Heeseung grins, taking your hand and leading you to the kitchen. “Good luck with that,” he teases.

You hop onto the countertop as he pulls out a pan and begins preparing the ingredients for pancakes. Watching him move around the kitchen, you find yourself thinking about how natural this feels—how easy it is to picture mornings like this being a regular thing.

As he pours the batter onto the pan, he slides between your legs, resting his hands on your thighs. “Gimme a kiss.”

“The pancakes will burn,” you say, laughing softly.

“They will if you don’t hurry up and kiss me,” he counters, his lips quirking into a playful smirk.

You roll your eyes but lean in, intending to give him a quick peck. Heeseung has other plans, deepening the kiss until you’re breathless. When he finally pulls back, he’s grinning smugly.

“You’re impossible,” you mutter but the warmth in your chest betrays your words.

“Impossible to resist,” he quips, turning back to the stove just in time to flip the pancake, which, to your surprise, isn’t burnt.

Once the pancakes are done, you help him with the eggs while he cuts up some fresh fruit he had laying around. The two of you work together, the easy banter making the morning feel light and carefree.

When everything is ready, you sit together at the kitchen island, plates filled with food. For a while, there’s nothing but the sound of utensils and quiet conversation.

Heeseung breaks the silence, his tone thoughtful. “I could get used to this.”

You glance at him, your cheeks warming. “Me too,” you admit softly.

He doesn’t respond immediately, just stares at you in a way that makes your heart race.

“Your food’s going to get cold,” you say, laughing nervously under his gaze.

Heeseung shrugs, a playful smile tugging at his lips. “Worth it.”

You shove his shoulder lightly, trying to hide your flustered state. “Eat,” you scold, and he chuckles before finally picking up his fork.

As you finish your plate, you take a sip of the orange juice he poured for you, noting how he remembered your preference for sweet drinks. You don’t comment on it but the gesture doesn’t go unnoticed.

When Heeseung finishes eating, he stands and helps clear the dishes, his movements unhurried. You grab your bag and dead phone ready to head out.

Heeseung walks you to the door, his hand resting lightly on your waist. As you step outside, he makes no move to let go.

“You’re just in your boxers,” you point out, raising an eyebrow.

“So?” he replies, a teasing grin on his lips.

You swat his arm, laughing softly. “Go back inside before your neighbors get an eyeful.”

Heeseung laughs, pulling you into one last kiss before letting you go. “Drive safe,” he murmurs, his voice soft.

You nod, smiling as you climb into your car. The drive home is quiet, the events of the morning replaying in your mind.

When you arrive, you park your car and head up to your apartment building but when you step into the space, the atmosphere shifts. “Chisa?” you call out, your voice tentative as you set your bag down by the door.

The apartment is eerily silent, save for the faint hum of the refrigerator in the kitchen. You step further inside rounding the corner and your breath catches in your throat.

Chisa is sitting cross-legged in the middle of the living room, her back rigid and her gaze fixed on the wall in front of her. Her hands rest limply in her lap but there’s a tension radiating from her body that makes your stomach twist.

“Chisa?” you try again softer this time, taking a cautious step forward.

She doesn’t respond, doesn’t even blink. The silence stretches heavy and suffocating as you kneel in front of her, your hand hesitantly reaching for her shoulder.

“Hey,” you whisper, your voice barely audible.

This time, her eyes shift, locking onto yours with a sharpness that sends a shiver down your spine. Her gaze is cold, unyielding, and when she finally speaks, her voice is low and chilling.

“Did you tell Heeseung about my article?”

You freeze. The words knock the air out of your lungs, leaving you grasping for a response. How does she know? Heeseung promised to give you time to talk to her yourself.

“I—what?” you stammer, the sudden intensity of her glare making your heart race.

Chisa’s jaw clenches as she rises to her feet, looming over you. “I got a phone call from his lawyers in the middle of the night. They said I can’t publish my exposé. Did you tell him?”

Your chest tightens as realization dawns. Heeseung must have made the call while you were sleeping. A flicker of anger sparks within you—why hadn’t he let you handle this? You push it down, trying to focus on Chisa who looks like she’s seconds away from exploding.

“Yes.”

Chisa scoffs, her expression twisting into one of disbelief and fury. She takes a step back, shaking her head. “Unbelievable,” she mutters before spinning around and storming toward the hallway.

“Chisa, wait!” you call, scrambling to your feet and following her. “Please, just listen—”

She whirls around so suddenly that you almost stumble. Her hands shoot out, shoving you backward with a force that knocks the breath out of you.

You stumble, catching yourself. The shock of it leaves you frozen for a moment, your mind struggling to catch up with what just happened. Chisa has never done anything like this before. You’ve argued in the past, of course you have, but even in your worst moments, she never laid a hand on you. Not once.

She’s seething. Her chest rises and falls rapidly, her fists clenched so tightly at her sides that her knuckles turn white. Her eyes, usually warm and filled with love or mischief, are blazing with an intensity that makes your stomach churn.

“Listen to what?” she spits, her voice rising. “To you defending that manwhore? To you justifying why you chose him over me?”

“I didn’t choose him over you!”

“Yes, you did! You sacrificed my career for him! For what? Did he fuck you too?”

The words hit you like a slap and your mouth opens but no sound comes out. Chisa’s eyes widen as she takes in your reaction, her expression shifting from anger to disgust.

“No way,” she whispers, a bitter laugh escaping her lips. “You sold me out for some dick? Were you that fucking desperate?”

Your chest tightens with indignation. “It’s not like that!” you snap, your voice rising to match hers. “My relationship with Heeseung has nothing to do with why I told him.”

Chisa stares at you as if you’ve grown another head, her voice dripping with disdain. “Relationship?” She lets out a humorless laugh. “For someone with a master’s degree in psychology, you’re one dumb bitch. He’s not capable of loving anyone. Not his ex, not Sakura, and definitely not you.”

You flinch at the mention of Sakura, your mind racing. “Sakura? What—”

Chisa cuts you off, turning on her heel and storming back into the living room. She grabs the remote and flicks on the TV, jabbing the buttons with trembling hands.

The screen flickers to life, and your stomach drops like a stone when the news anchor’s voice fills the room. Their tone is bright and celebratory.

“Breaking news! A fairytale ending for Lee Heeseung and Miyawaki Sakura.”

A photo of the two smiling together flashes on the screen, and your knees feel like they might give out.

Chisa crosses her arms, her glare burning into you as the broadcast loops back to commentary. “The announcement was made official two hours ago,” she says coldly, her voice cutting through the air.

Two hours ago.

You were sitting in Heeseung’s kitchen, eating pancakes while he talked about getting used to seeing you in his home. He had said he’d told Miss Min to postpone the announcement. He’d promised. Your mind spins, struggling to reconcile the timeline. Did Heeseung lie? Or did something else happen, something out of his control?

“He’s scum. All he cares about is sex. And for you to think he could be happy with you—” She shakes her head.

“That’s not true! Your source lied, Chisa. He didn’t force Karina to have an abortion! He’s not sneaking off to Jeju every weekend to sleep with someone new! It’s all rumors, and the press has it twisted. They’re making his life hell! I couldn’t let you publish that article. It would have ruined him.”

Chisa’s expression shifts, her glare turning into something almost unrecognizable. Hurt mingles with her anger, and her voice trembles as she fires back, “So what? It was better to ruin me?”

You snap.

“Not everything is about you, Chisa! He’s a person too, with real feelings! He’s been through so much and he doesn’t deserve this!” You take a shaky breath, your voice still trembling with emotion. “There will always be another article to write, another person to exploit but Heeseung doesn’t deserve it. Get over yourself.”

Chisa’s face falls, her eyes wide with disbelief but you don’t give her a chance to respond. You turn on your heel and storm to your room, slamming the door shut behind you.

Your chest heaves as you lean against the door, your mind racing. This is not how things were supposed to go. You weren’t supposed to fight with Chisa—not like this.

You take a shaky breath and push off the door, fumbling to plug your phone into the charger. Impatience gnaws at you and you grab your laptop instead flipping it open and opening your messaging app.

Messages flood the screen. Texts from Chisa, Dani, even Miss Min.

7:25 pm | chiz🧸: where are you? game night started!!! 7:50 pm | chiz🧸: nvm yunho told me you can’t make it 10:49 pm | chiz🧸: im back home now where r u loser 12:15 am | chiz🧸: ?

You close the tab, your chest tightening as guilt seeps in.

4:32 am | danielle: do you know why heeseung called the office to postpone the announcement???

You let out a sigh of relief. Heeseung hadn’t changed his mind. He tried to stop it. You make a mental note to respond to Dani later, opting to read Miss Min’s messages.

4:55 am | Boss: You need to meet with Heeseung and Sakura. Get them aligned again. 10:37 am | Boss: The announcement is moving forward. It’s what his parents want.

So that’s what happened. A new message pings on your screen, it’s from Heeseung.

12:08 pm | heeseung: just saw the news. i’m so sorry 12:08 pm | heeseung: i don’t know what happened but i’ll fix it. 12:08 pm | heeseung: i’m on my way to meet with sakura now.

You don’t respond, instead you fall against your bed frame overwhelmed. Tears threaten to spill but you blink them back, refusing to let them fall. This can be fixed you try to reason, yeah. This can be fixed. Instead of wallowing in tears, you strip off your clothes and head into the bathroom. A hot shower…that’ll make everything better.

The water warms your skin, soothing your tense muscles as you try to wash away the sweat and grime from the night before. But your mind won’t stop racing. You think about Heeseung. About boundaries you’ll need to set with him. About Chisa—her hurt, her anger, the way she shoved you. The memory stings as do her words. You wonder if you’ll ever be okay again.

Steam fills the room, but it doesn’t clear the haze in your mind. All you can do is stand there, letting the water wash over you, hoping it’ll drown out your sadness. You spend over an hour in there, letting the water wash over you and your thoughts consume you.

When you exit the shower, the bathroom is silent save for the steady drip of water from the showerhead as you step out, your skin flushed from the heat. You grab a towel and wrap it around yourself, your hands moving on autopilot as you dry off. The warmth of the shower clings to your skin providing some comfort.

You pull on a pair of soft sweatpants and an oversized hoodie before padding back into your bedroom, you glance at your phone charging on the nightstand. Its screen lights up repeatedly, vibrating with an almost frantic urgency.

Frowning, you unplug it. The moment it’s in your hand, it buzzes again, a steady stream of notifications flooding the screen. Text after text appears, the sheer volume of them making your stomach churn.

Your sister’s name catches your eye, her message buried among others from Dani, Heeseung, and even Jaehyun.

Your breath hitches. Your sister hasn’t spoken to you in months. She claims to be too busy with her husband and kids but truthfully you think she just can’t stomach being around you knowing each conversation you’ll bring up your mother.

Why is she reaching out now?

Before you can open her messages, another text pops up at the top of the screen from Jaehyun.

12:12 pm | hyunie🐶: are you okay?

Your chest tightens. A gnawing sense of dread climbs up your spine as you respond

12:13 pm | you: ??? 12:13 pm | hyunie🐶: you haven’t seen? 12:14 pm | you: seen what?

The three dots indicating he’s typing appear and you hold your breath, dread pooling in your stomach. When the link comes through, you click it without thinking.

Your heart plummets as you read the headline: Heeseung’s Secret Romance: Scandal Behind the Engagement.

The article is a brutal exposé, detailing Heeseung’s past controversies, his relationship with Karina, the lies about the abortion then him trying to rebrand by leeching off of Sakura through an engagement and finally, the revelation of an affair. Chisa posted it anyway. She posted the exposé.

Your breath comes in short, shallow gasps as you skim the article. Chisa’s words are scathing, painting you as a homewrecker and Heeseung as a manipulative womanizer. She leaves you nameless but the implications are clear, this is her firing back at you.

Your phone buzzes again and you almost drop it. Jaehyun is calling.

You answer, your voice barely above a whisper. “Hello?”

“Is it true?”

“...Yes.”

“Shit. Okay. Look, stay off your phone. Don’t read any more of it, okay? Yunho and I are coming over.”

You nod instinctively forgetting he can’t see you. “Okay.”

“Just… don’t spiral. We’ll be there soon.”

The call ends but you don’t put your phone down. You can’t. The panic bubbling inside you demands an outlet and ignoring it feels impossible. Against Jaehyun’s advice, you open Twitter.

Your name is trending. So are Heeseung's and Sakura’s.

You click on the hashtag, your heart pounding as you scroll through the tweets. Each tweet feels like a slap to the face, but you can’t stop. You keep scrolling, the comments getting worse and worse.

A new post catches your eye, a link to a Naver article. The thumbnail is a picture of you and Heeseung walking out of the hotel bar after your one-on-one meeting. The title is even worse than Chisa’s: Lee Heeseung’s Mistress Revealed: The Marriage Counselor Who Betrayed the Nation’s Princess

The article is a gallery of photos and commentary, each image scrutinizing your every move. This one names you outright, detailing how you entered Heeseung’s life as a marriage counselor assigned to help him and Sakura navigate their engagement.

Instead of counseling the couple, sources claim ____ became romantically involved with Heeseung, undermining Sakura, a beloved actress and national icon. Photographic evidence further suggests a relationship that goes beyond professionalism.

Photographs accompany the text.

Him picking you up for dinner, his hand resting casually on the small of your back.

You walking into the restaurant on valentines holding the bouquet he gave you.

You entering his home late at night.

You leaving this morning, followed by a quick shot of him kissing you goodbye.

The captions are unsavory.

“Caught in the act: ____ leaving Lee Heeseung’s home after a cozy night in.”, “A romantic dinner for two—how long has this been going on?”

You scroll down to the comments, your vision blurring as you read them.

⤑ she’s disgusting. how dare she betray sakura like this? +1,102 ⤑ heeseung’s trash but she’s worse. she’s supposed to be a counselor? what a joke 💀 +874 ⤑ poor sakura. she deserves so much better (╥﹏╥) +2,347 ⤑ omo she’s so brazen 💀 +366

Your chest tightens painfully and your hands begin to shake. The more you scroll, the worse it gets.

⤑ she knew exactly what she was doing. she’s a homewrecker. +613 ⤑ imagine being this desperate. she’s ruined her career for what? a fling? ㅋㅋㅋㅋ +1,209 ⤑ sakura is the nation’s princess. this woman is a nobody. she doesn’t deserve him. +4,102

Your breath comes in shallow gasps as the room seems to shrink around you. Your phone trembles in your hands, and the screen darkens for a moment, forcing you to see your own reflection—tear-streaked and unrecognizable.

You sink to the floor, your back pressed against your bed, the phone slipping from your grasp. A loud creak breaks through the haze.

The door to your room opens slowly and you look up to see Chisa standing there, her expression is unreadable, somewhere between anger and exhaustion.

For a moment, neither of you speaks.

Your lips part to say something—anything—but the words catch in your throat.

Chisa steps farther into the room, her gaze sharp and accusing. “You’ve turned into him, you know.”

You blink, confused. “What?”

Her lips curl into a bitter smile but there’s no humor in it. “Your dad. You’ve turned into your father.”

“I…”

“You always hated him for what he did to your mom,” Chisa continues, her voice rising with every word. “Every time he cheated, every time he lied, every time your mom sat crying in the kitchen, you hated him. You swore you’d never be like him. That’s why you became a marriage counselor, isn’t it? To stop people like him from ruining their families.”

Your heart pounds as memories flood back—your mother’s tear-streaked face, Chisa’s arms wrapped around you as she whispered, It’s going to be okay, I've got you. But now…

Chisa’s voice drops, the anger giving way to something softer, sadder. “And yet, here you are. Sleeping with someone else’s fiancée. How do you think that makes me feel? Watching you become the very thing you hate most?”

You open your mouth to defend yourself but the truth lodges itself in your throat. The excuses you’ve told yourself—Heeseung and Sakura aren’t really in love, their relationship isn’t real, this is different—feel hollow without him here to hold you, to remind you that you aren’t a monster because even if the engagement wasn’t real, Sakura’s feelings for Heeseung are and you knew that, you knew and still went for it.

The thought grips you, your stomach twisting as guilt crashes over you like a tidal wave. You’re no better than your father.

“Chisa…” Your voice is barely above a whisper. “I didn’t mean—”

“Didn’t mean what? To hurt people? To betray the one person you were supposed to help? You think that makes it better?”

Tears blur your vision but you don’t bother wiping them away.

“I’m sorry,” you croak, the words tasting bitter on your tongue.

Chisa shakes her head. “Sorry doesn’t fix this. Sorry doesn’t undo what you’ve done. It doesn’t change the fact that you’re exactly like him.”

For a moment, you think she’s going to leave but she lingers in the doorway, her gaze softening just enough to twist the knife.

“He’s not a good person,” she says finally, her voice quiet but firm. “And neither are you, if you keep letting him drag you down.”

The door clicks shut behind her, leaving you alone in the suffocating silence. The room feels colder after Chisa leaves. Her words play on a loop in your head, relentless and unforgiving.

“You’ve turned into him.”

“You’re exactly like him.”

You press your palms to your eyes, trying to block out the memory but it’s no use. It claws at you.

Chisa had been there for all of it—every fight, every slammed door, every tear your mother cried. She’d been the one who stayed up with you in your room, distracting you with dumb jokes and snack runs when the shouting downstairs became too much. She was the one who held you when you sobbed after catching your father’s texts to another woman, promising you that you’d never have to deal with anything like that when you were older.

Not your sister.

She had her own way of dealing with it. When things got bad, she’d leave, disappearing for days at a time. Spending nights at friends’ houses, coming back only when she couldn’t avoid it anymore. Then she left altogether—first for college, then for her own life, far away from the wreckage of your family.

Chisa stayed.

She was more of a sister to you than your actual sister ever was. She sat through the storm with you soaked in the same despair and somehow managed to hold you together when you thought you might break apart.

And now, after everything, you’ve betrayed her.

The irony tastes bitter, twisting in your gut like a knife. You didn’t just become the thing you despised; you became the thing that broke your family.

Your phone buzzes again from where it lies abandoned on the floor. You glance at it, reluctant to pick it up but the notifications don’t stop. They come in rapid succession, each one a reminder of how far this has spiraled out of control.

Your hands shake as you reach for it, curiosity overriding the gnawing dread. The screen lights up, showing messages from people you haven’t spoken to in years—college acquaintances, coworkers, even distant family.

You clutch the phone tighter, staring at the screen without seeing it. it’s all too much. Finally, you set the phone aside and pull your knees to your chest.

You don’t cry.

Instead, you sit there in silence, replaying everything in your mind. The choice to be with Heeseung, your night spent tangled in his arms, the way he looked at you like you were the only person in the world. You don’t regret any of it—not the moments you shared, not the feelings that grew despite everything stacked against you. What you feel for him is real and that’s something no headline or scandal can take away.

But you also can’t ignore the fallout. Your career lies in ruins, Chisa, your best friend—your sister in every sense of the word wants nothing to do with you and the trust you’d spent years building with her is gone. You’ve lost her and the weight of that is unbearable.

The word temptation floats to the surface of your mind. It’s what started all of this, isn’t it? The pull of something you can’t have, the magnetic force of wanting someone you weren’t meant to want.

You don’t regret Heeseung but you do regret everything it’s cost you. Temptation led you here. Desire kept you here.

And for the first time, you’re not sure how to fix it.

➤ taglist: @adoredbyjay @acousarah @fancypeacepersona @lovingvoidgoatee @seungjiseyo @starry-eyed-bimbo @cloud-lyy @lprww @mitmit01 @cupiddolle @heestruck @sol3chu @xylatox @planetmarlowe @M1kkso @clandestineself @yuniesluv @wonniesdoll @i03jae @aggarwaldrishti @jakesfurry @hanversace @right-person-wrong-time @missychief1404 @iamliacamila @jaems-left-toe @heesngmluv @ssanhwatto @itsyagirll @theothernads

#fic: temptation

665 notes · View notes

gyutopia · 20 days ago

Text

exactly!! i agree that everyone had their reasons as to why they did what they did but it doesn’t make it any less sad 😢 hopefully sakura finds someone who makes her happy and heeseung and y/n can be happy together too,,,and hopefully chisa doesn’t loose her job 😭

temptation | lee heeseung pt 1

⟶ summary: having just completed your graduate work in psychotherapy, you’re eager to begin a career as a marriage counselor. you land a job as a counselor at a matchmaking firm for millionaires and meet heeseung, a charismatic client who makes no effort to hide his attraction to you. the only catch is...he’s engaged. ˗ˏˋpairing: billionaire!heeseung x f!reader ❀ genre: marriage counselor au ❀ word count: 21.7k ❀ staring: chisa (22)- xg, yunho(23)- ateez, jaehyun(22)- bnd, heeseung (23) + jake (22) + jay (22) + sunghoon (22)- enhypen, sakura (24)- le sserafim, karina (24)- aespa, danielle (20)- new jeans. ⟶ warnings: mentions of anxiety and depression, therapy speak, lots of swearing, cheating, soft dom!hee, sub!reader, oral (f + m receiving), p in v intercourse, protected sex, dirty talk, praise, brief breast play, fingering, vanillaish sex, slight body worship, talk about childhood trauma, consumption of alcohol, mentions of abortion (not reader), invasion of privacy, inappropriate relationship dynamics, talk of assisted living, mention of a suicide attempt, allusions of starving yourself, mentions of anti- depressants, vague talk of ptsd, mentions of verbal abuse, heeseung doesn’t have good parents, physical altercation, online bullying (knets have a field day with u), heeseung is v insecure and has some emotional trauma. please let me know if i’ve missed anything!

✎୭: the full version, uninterrupted can be found on my ao3- here and pt 2 can be found- here. thank you so much for reading this monster of a fic! i love and appreciate every single one of you!

WEDNESDAY JANUARY 1ST, 2025

“____, is the questionnaire for Kang Taehyun finished? Miss Min has been waiting for it since you arrived,” Dani says, her heels clicking sharply against the polished floor as she approaches your desk. She gives you a tight-lipped smile, one of those professional smiles that never reaches the eyes. You recognize the look—she’s mildly annoyed, no doubt because of the paperwork that isn’t sitting neatly on your shared boss's desk.

You nod and offer a quick reassuring smile of your own. “Yeah, I finished it last night. I just sent it over to Jaehyun to review. I’m waiting on him to get me the printed and edited version. He should be down in a second.” You flick your wrist to glance at your watch, trying to sound as calm as possible while hoping that Jaehyun would get his act together before Dani lost her patience entirely.

Dani arches a brow. “He’s reviewing it?” she asks, glancing toward Jaehyun’s side of the office he shares with you.

“Yeah, you know him. Perfectionist,” you lie smoothly, hoping to stall for time. “I wanted a second opinion before sending it to Miss Min.”

Dani gives a slow nod. You mentally curse Jaehyun for dragging himself out of bed late this morning. You had tried warning him the night before when he was determined to keep up with your friend Chisa’s drinking game at the New Years party. But no—Jaehyun had refused to back down from a challenge, especially after Chisa called him a lightweight.

Dani glances at her tablet, swiping through notes as if she’s trying to decide whether to wait or leave. You can practically feel the seconds ticking by as you watch her, tension building in your stomach.

Just as she starts to turn to leave, the office door bursts open with Jaehyun’s usual flair.

“Good morning!” Jaehyun says, voice cheerful as always despite the fact that he looks slightly worse for wear. His hair is styled, but there’s a telltale puffiness around his eyes that confirms your suspicion—he definitely overslept. In one hand, he holds a thick binder which he offers to Dani with a bright grin. “Here’s the questionnaire! Sorry for the delay. I had to make sure everything was perfect.”

Dani, visibly relieved to finally have the binder in hand nods curtly though her expression softens a little at Jaehyun’s sunny disposition. “Thank you, Jaehyun. I’ll get this to her right away. Happy New Year.” She turns on her heel and leaves the office, her earlier annoyance dissipating somewhat. You catch a small appreciative smile on her lips as she walks away.

As soon as the door closes, Jaehyun collapses dramatically into the chair opposite your desk, dropping his head into his hands. “I’m dying,” he groans, his voice muffled by his palms. “Why did I think trying to outdrink Chisa was a good idea?”

You scoff shaking your head. “Beats me! You just had to go and prove her wrong.” You lean back in your chair, watching him pout like a child. His usual charming smile is gone, replaced by the look of a miserable puppy. “You really can’t handle your alcohol.”

“I would’ve made it if she hadn’t switched to those tequila shots. Chisa called me a lightweight in front of everyone. What was I supposed to do? Let it go?”

You raise an eyebrow. “Yes, that’s exactly what you were supposed to do. You’re the therapist remember? The voice of reason?”

Jaehyun snorts, rubbing his temples. “Please, the only thing I reasoned with last night was the floor of my bathroom. Never again.”

“Uh-huh,” you say, crossing your arms and giving him a knowing look. “You say that every time, and yet... here we are.”

“It was New Year's Eve, cut me some slack. It’s a miracle I made it in at all today,” he mutters, leaning back in his chair and letting his head loll backward dramatically. “Do you think Miss Min noticed I was late?”

You shake your head. “Nah, Dani probably covered for you. You should have seen her face when you handed over that binder.”

He smiles a little, though his eyes are still bleary. “Well, charm is my specialty.”

“And chaos. Honestly, how you became a therapist is still beyond me.”

He lets out a melodramatic sigh. “I’ll have you know, my chaos is what makes me relatable. It’s all part of my strategy.”

You raise an eyebrow at him. “Sure, let’s go with that.”

Jaehyun grins, though it’s weaker than his usual bright expression. He stretches out his legs and groans again, clearly still recovering. “I’m never drinking again. I swear this time.”

You snort. “I’ll believe that when I see it. Besides, you always say that until Chisa starts outdrinking you.”

He pouts, pushing his lips out in an exaggerated frown that really does make him look like a sad puppy. “Why does she have to be so competitive? It’s exhausting trying to keep up.”

“Because she knows you’ll always take the bait. It’s a running joke at this point.”

He winces, leaning his head back against the chair again. “Yeah, well, remind me next time to stick with beer. It’s safer.”

“I’ll try, but I’m pretty sure you’re a lost cause.”

Jaehyun lets out a groan in response though there’s a small smile creeping back onto his face. Despite his constant chaoticness, there’s something endearing about him. He’s one of the most genuine people you know…even when he’s hungover and complaining. It’s why you stuck by him through all of college and why you’re both still working together now.

You met Jaehyun during an Intro to Psych class in your freshman year. He’d walked in late, backpack slung haphazardly over one shoulder and sat right next to you in the nearly empty lecture hall. You didn’t think much of it at the time, chalking it up to random chance but Jaehyun seemed determined to make it something more.

What drew him to you, you’ll never know but once he set his mind on becoming your friend there was no stopping him. Every class, he’d show up with some ridiculous story, his energy pulling you out of your shell. He pestered you until you finally agreed to meet up outside of class, which turned into study sessions, coffee runs, and spontaneous hangouts that never seemed to end.

When he found out about Chisa, your childhood best friend, he insisted on meeting her. To your surprise and slight annoyance, Chisa liked him immediately. The two of them became fast friends, and before long, the three of you were inseparable. Then, during your sophomore year, Yunho joined your little circle. After one group hangout, he fit in like he’d been there from the beginning.

The four of you became a unit, navigating the ups and downs of college life together. From all-night cram sessions to weekend adventures in the city, they were your second family.

After graduating, you and Jaehyun pursued your master’s degrees together, both focused on psychology. Last summer, you walked across the stage with matching grins, ready to take on the world.

Sadly, the reality of post-grad life hit hard. Job hunting turned into an exhausting cycle of rejection and waiting. You and Jaehyun stuck together, scouring listings and sending out applications searching for anything remotely promising. It was Jaehyun who found the ad for in-house marriage counselors at the matchmaking firm. He’d sent in his application on a whim before immediately forwarding the link to you.

You didn’t have much hope but you applied anyway. To your surprise, you both made it through the rounds of interviews and landed the job in late November, six months after you’d started searching.

Now, you can’t imagine doing anything else. Helping people build strong, healthy relationships has always been your passion. Sitting here now, you can’t help but feel grateful. For him, for this job, all of it.

Soon, the familiar hum of the office buzzes in the background as Jaehyun finally slumps into his chair. You’re about to dive into your next task when your office phone rings sharply breaking through the temporary peace.

“Hello?” you answer briskly, half-expecting it to be Dani again with an update or critique.

“____, is the questionnaire for Kang Taehyun finished?” Miss Min’s voice cuts through the line like a blade, crisp and no-nonsense as always. “I expected it an hour ago.”

Your stomach drops, and you quickly shoot a glare at Jaehyun, who has the audacity to mouth uh-oh before spinning lazily in his chair. “Yes, Miss Min. Dani has it now. She’s on her way to deliver it to you.”

“Good. You know how important this is. Don’t let your team’s… quirks… slow you down again,” she replies, the slightest edge of irritation creeping into her tone. Before you can respond, the line goes dead.

“Quirks?” you repeat under your breath, slamming the receiver down and turning to Jaehyun, who is now balancing a pen on his nose as if this were all a game. “She’s talking about you, you know.”

“Me?” Jaehyun feigns innocence, letting the pen clatter to his desk. “I’m delightful.”

“You’re lucky I didn’t rat you out,” you say, your tone half-scolding but mostly resigned. “And stop spinning in that chair—it’s not helping your case.”

Jaehyun smirks, leaning forward to prop his elbows on his desk. “C’mon, admit it. My charm saved the day.”

“You mean Dani's crush on you saved the day,” you shoot back, though you can’t help the small smile tugging at your lips.

“Details, details,” he quips but before you can retort a sharp knock at the office door makes you both sit up straighter.

“Come on in,” you call expecting Dani again.

Instead, the door swings open to reveal Miss Min herself, her heels clicking against the polished floor. Her presence immediately fills the room, her impeccable blazer tailored to perfection and her no-nonsense expression locked onto you like a hawk eyeing its prey.

“Miss Min!” you exclaim, standing so quickly you nearly knock over your chair. Jaehyun follows suit though with considerably less grace.

“I see the questionnaire has been handled,” she says, holding up the binder Dani had delivered moments ago. Her tone is calm but the way her eyes sweep over the two of you suggests she isn’t here for pleasantries.

“Yes, ma’am. It was finalized this morning,” you reply, trying to keep your voice steady.

“Good. But that’s not why I’m here,” she says, setting the binder down on your desk. “There’s another matter that requires your immediate attention.”

You glance at Jaehyun who looks equally confused but keeps his mouth shut for once. Miss Min turns her piercing gaze back to you.

“Lee Heeseung and Miyawaki Sakura will be arriving in thirty minutes for their first counseling session,” she announces her tone leaving no room for argument. “I want you to handle it personally, ____.”

Your stomach flips. Lee Heeseung? As in the Lee Heeseung? The playboy from a chaebol family? And Sakura, the poised and polished media darling everyone in the country seems to adore? You’ve only been here for two months and she’s asking you to do the impossible.

“Lee Heeseung and Miyawaki Sakura? I-i didn’t know they were a couple, I’ve never handled anything this high-profile.”

Miss Min’s eyes narrow slightly, though her tone remains calm. “Consider this an opportunity to prove yourself. I made the match yesterday evening, but as I’m sure you’re aware, public perception matters. Heeseung’s reputation is… complicated and Sakura’s is pristine. This counseling isn’t just about their relationship; I need you to whip them into the poster couple for this firm.”

You swallow hard. “I understand.”

“Good. Heeseung’s family is particularly invested in this union. They expect results,” Miss Min says pointedly. She places a new folder on your desk, filled with their profiles, notes, and expectations. “Make sure you’re prepared. This could be career-defining for you.”

With that, she turns on her heel and strides out of your office.

Jaehyun lets out a low whistle as soon as the door clicks shut. “Playboy Lee and Sakura? That’s… an interesting combo.”

“You’re telling me,” you mutter, flipping open the folder. A glossy photo of Heeseung stares back at you, his sharp jawline and cocky smirk practically radiating arrogance. Next to him is Sakura, her smile and elegant posture the complete opposite of him.

Jaehyun leans over your desk, peering at the photos. “So, what’s the game plan?”

“No clue,” you say firmly though your nerves are beginning to fray. “I’m just going to get through the session without putting my foot in my mouth.”

He snorts. “Heeseung is probably going to try to charm his way out of anything serious and Sakura? She’s like… the poster child for perfection. Good luck getting past her PR-trained responses.”

“Great. Thanks for the vote of confidence,” you mutter, burying your head in your hands.

“Hey, I’m just joking—don’t let them intimidate you,” Jaehyun says, his tone softening. “You’re good at this, ____. You’ve handled tougher cases than this.”

“Not with this much pressure,” you admit. “Miss Min practically said my career’s on the line.”

“Then show her why you deserve it,” he says simply, his usual playful demeanor replaced by sincerity. “You’ve got this.”

Exactly thirty minutes later, you find yourself seated in the sleek minimalist counseling room your hands folded neatly on the table in front of you. You remind yourself to stay composed—this is just another case. Your goal is to help them no matter the reputation that precedes them.

The door opens and you glance up. Heeseung enters first his presence commanding attention without effort. Tall and self-assured, his sharp angular features are striking but it’s the way he carries himself—casual yet confident—that immediately catches your attention. Behind him, Sakura walks in with grace, her polite smile softening the atmosphere.

For a split second, you feel Heeseung’s gaze lock onto yours, and something in his eyes makes you pause. It’s not judgment or indifference—something you’ve come to expect from clients—but curiosity. You quickly push the thought aside and rise to greet them.

“Thank you both for coming today,” you say extending a hand toward Sakura who shakes it warmly. Heeseung follows suit, his grip firm but not overbearing.

As they take their seats, you notice how Heeseung leans back lazily, his gaze never straying far from you.

“So,” Heeseung drawls, his voice smooth and effortless, “You’re the one tasked with fixing us, huh?”

You swallow suddenly aware of how his eyes seem to hold your attention. You force yourself to stay focused pushing away the growing unease in your chest. “I’m not here to ‘fix’ anyone,” you say, trying to sound more confident than you feel. “I’m here to help you both navigate this transition and build a strong foundation for your marriage.”

Heeseung raises an eyebrow clearly amused by your professional tone and his smirk only deepens. “Right,” he says, the teasing lilt in his voice almost making you second-guess your words.

You glance down at your notebook, hoping it hides the slight tremor in your hands. “I’m here to help,” you repeat, a little more quietly this time.

Sakura nods her expression calm and sincere before saying, “We appreciate your time.”

You nod back trying to center yourself. “Let’s start with something simple.” you suggest drawing a breath. “What do you each hope to gain from these sessions?”

Sakura speaks first. “I want to make sure we’re aligned emotionally and practically. Marriage is a partnership and I'd like for us to be on the same page.”

You nod in agreement, jotting down her answer and then turn to Heeseung. He’s watching you intently, his gaze a bit too sharp for comfort. “And you, Heeseung?”

Heeseung doesn’t answer immediately. Instead, he tilts his head slightly, his eyes studying you as though trying to read between the lines of your question. Finally he says, “I’m just here to keep everyone happy.” His words are vague and the way he says them almost feels like a challenge, like he’s testing you—keeping his cards close to his chest and seeing how far you’re willing to go to pry the information out of him.

You try to remain neutral keeping your voice even, you offer a small understanding smile. “Happiness is important, but it often requires effort from both sides. Can you tell me more about what happiness means for you in this context and how you plan to achieve itt?”

For a brief moment his expression shifts. The smirk softens and his gaze grows more thoughtful. He hesitates, the words dying in his head not being spoken. He leans back in his chair, arms casually crossed over his chest a lazy grin spreading across his face. His walls have gone up, you note. “Well, I’m not much of a planner,” he says, his tone dropping just slightly, his gaze lingering. “I’m more about… adapting to what comes my way.” His eyes flicker to yours a playful gleam in them. “But I’m sure you can work with that, right?”

His gaze unsettles you but you remind yourself this is just part of his charm, part of the persona he’s crafted. Heeseung’s reputation as a notorious playboy precedes him. You won’t fall for it.

“I’m just here to help you both communicate and build mutual respect and that means focusing on both of your needs and goals for this relationship.”

Sakura nods, agreeing with your point.

You look back at Heeseung but this time his relaxed posture makes it even harder to focus. His eyes haven’t moved away from you, still observing with a hint of amusement. “And what do you think, ____? Do you think communication is enough to make a marriage work, or is there something more to it? Something… more physical?”

You feel your heart skip a beat and you quickly glance down at your notebook to give yourself a moment to recover. His question lingers in the air and for a second, you can’t quite place the subtle flirtation in his tone. But you quickly remind yourself—this is just his way of testing boundaries. Heeseung is probably used to charming everyone he meets, especially women. You won’t let him pull you in.

“Marriage requires a foundation built on trust and compromise Heeseung, both of you will need to work on understanding and supporting each other’s differences.”

Heeseung leans forward slightly, resting his elbows on the table, his gaze not leaving yours for a moment. “Compromise, huh?” He raises an eyebrow, clearly amused. “I’ll admit, I’m not the best at that. I tend to get what I want when I want it.” He chuckles softly then adds, “But I think I can make an exception for someone who seems as… put-together as you.”

You choke on your breath caught off guard by the comment. You quickly take a sip of water to steady yourself. “I’m here to make sure you two work as a team. I’m not here to make exceptions.”

Heeseung’s grin softens and you can’t tell if it’s genuine or if he’s just enjoying watching you squirm. His eyes flicker over to Sakura who’s scribbling something in her notebook, her attention fully on the session. Heeseung, sensing an opening, shifts his attention back to you.

“You know, I’m starting to think we could have some fun with these sessions.”

The air between you thickens, and you feel heat rush to your cheeks. You try to brush it off as nothing—just another one of his playful comments—but it’s hard to ignore how his words make you feel. You quickly focus on your notebook, scolding yourself for letting him get under your skin.

Sakura, thankfully seems oblivious to Heeseung’s words. She looks up with a polite neutral smile. “I think we can all agree that we want this to work,” she says, her tone calm. “We want to respect the process.”

You nod quickly. “Exactly this process requires effort from both of you.” You clear your throat. “Let’s move on to some specific goals you each have for this relationship. Let’s start with you, Sakura.”

Sakura answers right away. “I’d like to build more emotional intimacy with Heeseung. We’ve been living our lives in the public eye for so long, and it’s hard to separate the personas from who we really are. I want to know Heeseung the person, not just Heeseung the media figure.”

You nod. “That’s a good goal. Building emotional intimacy requires openness, trust, and vulnerability. But it’s a two-way street.”

Heeseung watches you as you speak, his expression thoughtful. “I disagree,” he says slowly, his voice dropping slightly. “The whole ‘persona’ thing can be exhausting but sometimes it’s easier to keep people at arm’s length than to really let them in, you know?”

You nod. “That’s a common challenge for public figures. But the work starts with being willing to be vulnerable, to let someone else see the real you.”

Heeseung gives you a half-smile and you catch the glimmer in his eyes. “Sounds like a lot of work…but maybe it’s worth it, if you find the right person to do it with.”

You feel your heart skip again. “Let’s get back to some specifics,” you say, trying to steer the conversation back on track. “How do you both plan to navigate the media as a married couple?”

Sakura immediately takes over while Heeseung falls silent, his gaze still lingering on you as you speak.

The session continues and though Sakura remains composed, you feel Heeseung’s subtle flirting never quite stops. Each glance, each comment, leaves you just a little more flustered. Soon enough, the hour is over. Sakura, ever composed, stands up first, gracefully gathering her things. She’s the picture of professionalism, her posture upright, every movement calculated.

You take a moment to gather your own thoughts, adjusting your notebook on the desk as she turns to you with a polite smile.

“When should we meet again?” Sakura asks, her tone soft yet businesslike, her eyes glancing over you expectantly.

You smile trying to seem casual despite the way your pulse quickens when thinking about being around Heeseung again. “Actually, I’d like to schedule some one-on-one time with the both of you,” you reply.

“It’ll give me a better sense of how you both interact outside of the formal session, so I can tailor future sessions to fit your individual personalities. When are you free?”

Sakura’s smile falters for a moment and she checks her phone with a quick glance. “I’m very booked lately,” she admits, her brow slightly furrowing as she takes in her schedule. “But I’ll have my assistant get back to you on that.”

Before you can reply Heeseung leans back in his chair stretching languidly. His eyes never leave you and his lips curl into an almost too-casual smirk. “I’m free this Saturday,” he says.

You nod trying not to let your heart skip a beat. Saturday, that’s three days from now. “Perfect. I’ll mark that in my calendar. We can meet outside of the company, somewhere more informal. You can pick the activity for that day, so you feel comfortable.”

Heeseung raises an eyebrow, clearly intrigued by your suggestion. “I’ll think of something fun, don’t worry.”

Sakura, ever the enthusiast, suddenly perks up. “When it’s my turn, you should crochet with me!” she says practically bouncing.

Heeseung snorts, his expression one of clear indifference though he hides it quickly behind a cough. “Crochet, huh? Sounds riveting. I’ll email you the details for Saturday.”

“I look forward to it,” you say as they both gather their things. “Thank you for your time today.”

You round the table and walk them out, your mind racing. As they exit, Heeseung gives you a final lingering glance and just as the elevator doors open you feel a hand grasp your arm—firm but not harsh.

“Let’s go, counselor,” Jaehyun says with a playful smirk pulling you back towards your shared office. “I need a full debrief.”

The elevator doors slowly begin to close and Heeseung’s gaze lingers on you both. His eyes narrow slightly, clearly curious about Jaehyun’s sudden possessiveness. But with a soft ding, the doors shut and the elevator begins to descend.

Jaehyun, always eager to yap starts in on you the moment you enter your office. “Sooooo, how was it?”

You groan inwardly as you rub your temples. “It wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be but Heeseung definitely had some… subtle flirting going on.”

Jaehyun raises his eyebrows, his grin mischievous. “Subtle flirting?” he teases, leaning against your desk. “Knowing what the blogs say about him, it’s probably not subtle at all.”

You cross your arms trying to mask how much the comment unsettles you. “It’s not like it means anything,” you respond.

Jaehyun studies you for a moment before letting out a laugh. “Trust me, it means something. The guy has a type, and I’d bet my next paycheck you’re it.”

Rolling your eyes, you sigh. “It’s too soon to say anything about him but honestly, he’s… complex. The way he carries himself, it’s like he wants people to think he’s all confidence and charm but there’s more going on.”

“Oh? Are we psychoanalyzing already?”

You shake your head. “Not exactly. I’m just saying he’s not as straightforward as he seems. One session isn’t enough to figure him out. I mean, sure, he flirts but he’s careful too. It feels deliberate, like he’s testing boundaries.”

Jaehyun tilts his head, intrigued. “Testing boundaries? That’s an interesting take.”

“It’s like he’s trying to see how far he can go without actually revealing too much. There’s this controlled…energy? About him. Like he’s spent years mastering how to keep people at arm’s length while making it seem like he’s letting them in.”

“That’s pretty spot on for just one session.”

You give him a faint smile. “He’s got layers, and I need more time to peel them back. For now, it’s all speculation.”

“You’re probably right though. Here’s my theory: Heeseung’s whole playboy thing? It’s a shield. He’s hiding something—maybe from his childhood or from expectations placed on him.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Expectations?”

Jaehyun nods, leaning forward slightly. “Think about it. Guys like him, born into powerful families are always under a microscope. They’re expected to be perfect, to never mess up. That kind of pressure can really mess with someone’s head. So, they find ways to cope.”

You frown, his words hitting closer to what you’d been thinking yourself. "I don’t know much about his personal life yet," you admit, piecing it together aloud. "But I get the sense there’s a lot of pressure on him. He seems like someone who’s had to shoulder a lot without letting it show."

“See? That explains a lot. Heeseung probably learned to bury his feelings because showing vulnerability wasn’t an option and now he hides behind this persona to keep people from getting too close.”

You chew on your lip considering this. "It does make sense, but I need more interactions with him to get a clearer picture. Right now, everything feels surface-level—like he’s revealing just enough to keep control of the narrative."

Jaehyun leans back with a satisfied grin. “Learned behavior.”

You rub your temples considering everything carefully. "He’s guarded and everything he does seems intentional. I need more time and more sessions to understand who he really is.”

“Fair enough. Just don’t get too caught up in his charm. The guy’s a pro at making people fall for him.”

You shoot him a sharp look. “That’s not going to happen. I’m there to do my job, nothing more.”

Jaehyun raises his hands in mock surrender. “Fine, fine. But if you figure him out before I do, I want a full report.”

You roll your eyes, turning back to the paperwork on your desk. “Sure, whatever. Let’s just get to work.”

Jaehyun chuckles clearly amused by your exasperation but says nothing and gets back to work. As Jaehyun moves to his desk you find yourself replaying the session in your mind. Heeseung’s easy charm, his deliberate flirting, the cracks in his walls—there’s more to him than meets the eye. But figuring him out won’t be easy and for some reason the thought both excites and unsettles you.

You sit down at your desk eager to get back to something familiar, something you can control. But as you open your inbox you see an email from Heeseung’s personal account. Your stomach does a small flip when you see the subject: Meeting for Saturday. Inside is a simple message: a time and location.

You don’t hesitate. You respond quickly: I’ll meet you there.

The next few hours pass in a blur with Jaehyun and you exchanging casual conversation and working through the last few tasks for the day. As you start to pack up your things, your phone buzzes with a new text from Chisa.

7:05 pm | chiz🧸: hey, is it cool if the guys come over to the apartment? something to celebrate!

7:05 pm | you: sure, what’s the occasion?

7:06 pm | chiz🧸: i got a promotion!

7:06 pm | you: congratulations! i’ll stop by the liquor store with jae and grab some champagne!!

Jaehyun perks up having read the messages over your shoulder. “Oh? Champagne? I’m definitely in for that.” He grabs his jacket, ready to head out. “Let’s go. We’ve got a celebration to attend!”

The two of you leave work and head to the liquor store where you grab a bottle of champagne and a cheesy congratulations card. You both quickly write heartfelt messages inside and head to your shared apartment.

As you reach the building you see Yunho standing in the lobby with balloons and a mini cake. “You guys are late,” he teases as he spots you both.

Jaehyun hands him the card with a grin. “Sign this before we go up.”

Yunho signs the card, writing his own little message then follows you both to the elevator. You unlock the door to your place and as soon as you enter you’re met with the warm glow of candles and champagne glasses. Chisa is carefully arranging pillows and snacks, her face lighting up when she sees you three.

The three of you shout in unison, “Congratulations!” and Chisa’s smile softens as she hugs each of you. She takes the card and laughs at the cheesy message on the outside but her expression changes when she reads the heartfelt words inside. She tears up a little before pulling you all in for a tight hug.

“I’m so lucky to have you guys,” she whispers.

You pull back and hold out the champagne asking, “Who wants to open it?”

Chisa eagerly steps forward. “I’ll do the honors!” She grabs the bottle from you and gives it a good shake before opening it. With a satisfying pop, the cork comes off, and everyone cheers as she pours the bubbly liquid into glasses.

Once everyone has a drink you settle into the cozy living room munching on snacks and chatting. Yunho then asks, “So, what was the promotion about?”

Chisa beams, her pride unmistakable. “I’m heading up a new piece, a deep dive on Lee Heeseung. I’ve found someone from his college days willing to talk and they’re going to help me write it.”

Your stomach drops. You glance quickly at Jaehyun who catches your eye, his expression unreadable.

“What’s the article about?” You ask, trying to sound casual.

Chisa’s grin widens. “It’s an exposé. There’s a rumor about him pressuring his ex-girlfriend to get an abortion back in college. If there’s truth to it, this could be huge.”

The room goes silent, tension thickening.

Jaehyun breaks it with a question, his tone quieter than usual. “Do you know if the rumor’s true?

Chisa shrugs. “Not yet, but my source said she has some evidence. That’s already a good sign there’s something there.”

You try to swallow past the lump in your throat. Every instinct tells you to call Miss Min, to warn her before this explodes but Chisa’s excitement stops you. She’s worked so hard for this chance. Telling Miss Min would destroy her opportunity….and maybe even your friendship.

You feel a knot tighten in your stomach. You want to say something but words escape you. This is big—dangerously big. If Miss Min finds out about this from someone other than you, you could not only be pulled from their case but fired.

You down your champagne and reach for a spoon to take a bite of the cake, choosing to drown in icing and alcohol instead. As the evening continues and everyone gets more relaxed, Yunho asks “So, how was your day at work, Jaehyun? You and ____ have been kind of quiet about it.”

Jaehyun glances at you, his eyes flicking between you and Chisa. “It was fine,” he says, not elaborating. “Oh, and ____ is working with Heeseung, by the way.” He says quickly, throwing you under the bus.

“Jaehyun!”

“You’re working with Lee Heeseung?” Chisa asks, her voice tinged with disbelief. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

You look at Jaehyun, narrowing your eyes. Jaehyun shrugs nonchalantly, as if to say, “I’m not sorry,” and leans back.

“I can’t disclose the details but yeah, I got assigned to a case with him today, and I’m under contract to not say anything.”

Chisa isn’t quite satisfied. She looks at you, her eyes pleading for a juicy story.

“Is he ready to settle down? I mean, the playboy persona—do you think he’ll ever change?”

You feel a rush of irritation. The question isn’t casual—it’s personal. “I can’t share that with you,” you say firmly, your voice more defensive than you intended. There’s a sharpness to your tone that catches everyone off guard and for a brief moment Chisa looks taken aback.

You take a deep breath trying to ease the tension. “I’m bound by confidentiality. I can’t talk about anything off the record. Not for an article. Not for anything.”

Chisa looks slightly deflated but she doesn’t press further. Instead, she gives you a weak smile. “Alright, I get it. I won’t push you. But if you find out anything that you can share let me know?”

You hesitate, feeling the pull between your professional duty and your friendship. “I’ll see what I can do,” you say not entirely sure you’ll be able to keep that promise.

SATURDAY JANUARY 4TH, 2025

Saturday rolls around and you find yourself nervously adjusting your outfit in the mirror. You’re dressed in some old jeans that fit perfectly and a low-cut top. You grab your keys and head out, the nervous energy thrumming through you as you drive to the address Heeseung had emailed you.

When you arrive, the glowing sign of the hotel bar looms before you. You step inside immediately noting the quiet atmosphere. The dim lighting casts a warm inviting glow over the polished bar and the air carries the faint hum of soft jazz music. You spot Heeseung at the bar, his figure relaxed as he nurses a drink, the amber liquid catching the light in his glass.

Sliding onto the stool beside him you offer a small smile. "Hey."

Heeseung turns, his eyes dragging over you in a way that feels almost inappropriate. His gaze lingers a moment too long making your skin prickle. He gives you a soft smile. "You look nice."

"Thanks," you reply, ignoring the warmth creeping up your neck. "This is an… unexpected choice of venue," you comment, gesturing to the bar. "Not what I thought you’d pick for our meeting outside the office."

Heeseung chuckles softly his eyes crinkling slightly at the corners. "What did you think I’d pick?"

You shrug, feigning nonchalance. "I don’t know. Maybe fine dining? A sporting event?"

He shakes his head, his lips curling into a smirk. "Too public. I like this place for the privacy." He gestures around the room and it’s only then that you notice how empty it is, save for the two of you and the bartender quietly polishing glasses behind the counter.

"Oh," you murmur, taking in the stillness of the space. "Is it always this empty?"

"No," Heeseung says, his tone casual, as if what he’s about to say isn’t surprising at all. "I rented it out."

Your eyes widen slightly. "You rented out an entire hotel bar? Just for this meeting?"

Heeseung’s smirk deepens. "I usually rent it when I want quiet…or for special events like this one." He replies smoothly, lifting his glass to his lips.

You blink momentarily at a loss for words but you decide not to comment. Instead you change the subject. "Would you mind ordering me something? Surprise me."

Heeseung’s eyes glimmer with amusement as he signals to the bartender. "A Sex on the Beach for her."

Your eyebrows shoot up but you catch yourself before saying anything. Once again, you choose to let it slide. When the bartender places the vibrant cocktail in front of you you thank him and take a tentative sip. The sweetness masks the alcohol making it dangerously easy to drink.

"So," you begin, searching for a way to steer the conversation into more neutral territory. "What’s your relationship history like?"

Heeseung’s smirk reappears as he shakes his head lightly. "Don’t do that."

"Do what?"

"That," he says, gesturing vaguely. "Don’t go all therapisty on me. I thought we were here to have fun."

You laugh softly, swirling your drink in its glass. "Well, yes. But part of this is for me to see how you are in a comfortable setting so I can make the proper assessment to help you and Sakura navigate things better." You pause, gauging his reaction. "That’s all."

Heeseung’s expression remains unreadable as he tilts his head slightly. "Are you in a relationship?"

You blink caught off guard. "Excuse me?"

Heeseung leans back in his chair, his smile bordering on mischievous. "You said you wanted me to be comfortable. It’ll make me more comfortable to share my relationship experiences if you indulge me. So, are you in a relationship?"

Huffing, you relent. "No, I’m single."

"What about that scrawny puppy from Wednesday?"

You furrow your brows. "Who? Jaehyun?"

He shrugs, clearly indifferent to the name. You’re left to assume it’s Jaehyun he’s referring to. "We’re just friends," you clarify. "We met in undergrad and I’ve been stuck with him ever since. We’re in the same friend group."

Heeseung nods a faint smirk tugging at his lips as if he finds your explanation amusing. "What’s your type?"

You raise an eyebrow, setting your drink down. "This isn’t fair. You’ve asked me three questions now, two of which I’ve answered. It’s only fair you answer mine. So, your turn. What’s your relationship history?"

Heeseung exhales a soft laugh swirling his whiskey in its glass. "Nothing serious," he says casually. "Dated around a lot in college. Slept around even more." He pauses, taking a sip of his drink before his eyes meet yours again. "Now, your type."

You shrug, matching his casual demeanor. "I don’t have one."

"Sure you do," he counters, his smirk returning. "There’s no way you don’t have a type."

You shake your head, smiling faintly. "I haven’t dated much to know what my type is."

Ever the flirt, Heeseung leans in slightly. "Who said anything about dating?"

You feel heat rush to your cheeks and quickly clear your throat. "What was your childhood like?"

Heeseung clicks his tongue, leaning back once more. "Answer first. It’s your turn."

You sigh, tracing the rim of your glass with a finger. “I had some flings in undergrad, but I was too busy with graduate work to focus on any romantic relationships.” Sitting up straighter, you add, “Now, what was your childhood like?”

Heeseung’s expression shifts, ever so slightly, a shadow of something deeper flickering across his face. “Perfect,” he replies, almost too quickly. “I had perfect parents, perfect grades, a perfect brother. Truly a perfect life.”

The way he repeats the word “perfect” draws your attention, his tone just a little too light, a little too practiced. You take another sip of your drink, studying him carefully. “Typically, in my experience, people who live perfect lives or had perfect childhoods don’t use the word ‘perfect’ however many times you just did to describe it.”

Heeseung leans back in his seat a faint smile playing on his lips though it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. His gaze is steady, unwavering. “You’re good at this.”

Tipping your drink in his direction, you reply, “So, what’s the real answer?”

Heeseung exhales through his nose, the playful facade cracking just enough for a sliver of vulnerability to shine through. “My brother was supposed to take over the family business,” he begins, his voice quieter now his gaze shifting to something in the distance that only he can see. “But he… wasn’t able to.”

There’s a hesitation, a deliberate pause as though he’s weighing how much to say—or perhaps how little he can say without lying outright. “The pressure got to him,” he continues, his voice carefully even. “So my parents turned to me. I wasn’t allowed to be anything but perfect. People at school joked that I’d be the next Lee to lose their mind.”

He stops there, his words hanging heavy in the air. You sense there’s more—much more—but he doesn’t offer it and you don’t push. Not now. Instead, you focus on the strain in his voice, the way his fingers tap absently against his glass, and the faint tremor of bitterness that sneaks into his words.

Your voice is soft when you speak again with an unspoken reassurance in your tone. “That’s a lot for anyone to carry.”

Heeseung shrugs a humorless smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “I had a therapist when I was younger,” he says, his gaze flickering back to you. “Crippling anxiety, depression that no amount of CBT or medication could fix. I was over-drugged and sent on my way. It wasn’t until I went abroad for university that I finally got to exist on my own terms. No parents, no assistants forcing pills down my throat, no prying eyes.”

You notice he’s entirely skipped over what happened to his brother—what happened after “the pressure got to him.” The way his voice carefully avoids it, the deliberate vagueness in his phrasing tells you that’s a door he’s not ready to open. Not tonight.

Your heart clenches at what he does share, but you decide to let him guide the conversation. It’s clear this is as much as he’s willing to give and pushing further wouldn’t be fair.

“I’m glad you got that space,” you say gently, wanting to remind him that he’s been heard without pressing too hard.

For a moment, his expression softens but then as if realizing he’s said too much, Heeseung shifts gears. “Have you ever played pool before?”

You blink at the sudden change of subject but you recognize it for what it is: his way of pulling back, of protecting himself. Letting him have the space he needs, you smile. “Yeah, but I’m not all that good.”

He downs the rest of his drink and stands a glint of challenge in his eyes. "Let’s play a game. If you win, I’ll stop being difficult and answer all your questions."

You raise an eyebrow. "And if you win?"

Heeseung smirks, his confidence palpable. "I’ll think about it."

Finishing your drink, you follow him to the pool table, the tension thick enough it could be cut with a knife.

The pool table is positioned under a soft amber light that highlights the rich green felt. Heeseung hands you a cue stick, his fingers brushing yours for just a moment longer than necessary. Your head is buzzing slightly from the alcohol, the tipsy haze loosening your usual guarded demeanor.

Heeseung leans over the table setting up the game. "Ladies first," he says, stepping back to let you take your shot.

You bend over the table, lining up your cue but your focus is shattered when you feel Heeseung’s presence behind you. His hands come to rest on your hips lightly, his touch sending a jolt of awareness through you.

"Your form’s a little off," he murmurs, his voice low and smooth. He steps closer, his chest brushing against your back. "Let me help."

Before you can protest, Heeseung’s hands slide down your arms adjusting your grip on the cue. His breath fans against your ear as he speaks softly. "Relax your shoulders."

Your pulse quickens as his hands guide yours, his fingers brushing against your skin. The warmth of his body pressed against yours is intoxicating, and you’re acutely aware of every point of contact. You attempt to focus on the shot but your mind is spinning, the closeness making it impossible to think clearly.

"There," he says, his voice a low rumble. "Now try."

You take a shaky breath and attempt the shot but you’re so flustered you completely miss. Heeseung chuckles, the sound vibrating against your back. "Don’t worry. You’ll get the hang of it."

As the game continues Heeseung’s touches become bolder, his hands lingering on your waist or guiding your arms with a familiarity that sends heat pooling in your stomach. His proximity, combined with the alcohol coursing through your veins makes it harder and harder to resist the pull between you.

At one point he leans in close again, his chest pressing against your back as he helps you aim. "You’re a quick learner," he murmurs, his voice dripping with something that feels far more intimate than simple encouragement.

Your cheeks burn as you try to focus on the game but your thoughts keep drifting to how his hands feel on you, how his presence seems to envelop you completely. You can’t remember the last time someone’s attention made you feel so utterly captivated.

The final shot of the game arrives and you’re sitting on the edge of the pool table nursing the remnants of your second drink. Heeseung lines up the shot, his movements confident and deliberate. With a smooth strike the ball sinks into the pocket, sealing his victory.

He straightens, a triumphant smirk on his face as he steps closer to you. "Looks like I win," he says, his voice teasing.

You’re perched on the edge of the table your legs slightly parted and Heeseung steps into the space between them. His hands come to rest on either side of you, trapping you in place as he leans in. The air feels electric, every inch of space between you crackling with tension.

Heeseung’s gaze locks onto yours, his eyes dark and unreadable. For a moment, you’re convinced he’s going to kiss you, your breath hitching as his face inches closer. But instead, his hand reaches for your shirt, gently tugging it back into place where it had slipped down slightly. The gesture is both intimate and maddeningly restrained.

You’re left staring at his hand, taking in the veins that trace along his skin. The alcohol in your system makes your thoughts sluggish, and you realize with a start that you’re turned on by the simple act of him fixing your shirt. The realization makes your breath catch, and before you can stop yourself, you ask, "What do you want for winning?"

Heeseung’s smirk deepens, and he pulls back slightly, his eyes flickering with amusement. "I’ll get back to you on that," he says, his tone light but laced with something that leaves you wanting more.

As he steps away, the spell between you breaks but the weight of what just happened lingers heavily in the air. It’s in that moment, as you watch him saunter back to the bar, that you know you’re screwed. Completely, irrevocably pulled into the charm that is Lee Heeseung.

MONDAY FEBRUARY 10TH, 2025

The sun barely filters through your curtains as your alarm blares jolting you awake. Groggily, you reach over to silence it, your mind slowly catching up to the fact that you’re carpooling with Jaehyun today. A quick glance at the time sends you scrambling out of bed—there’s no way you’re going to make it if you don’t hurry.

You rush through your morning routine, hastily pulling on a pair of black slacks and a crisp blue blouse. As you step out of your bedroom, you hear muffled voices coming from the living room. Curiosity piqued, you peek around the corner to see Chisa sitting on the couch, her laptop open and phone recording on a small tripod. Across from her sits a girl you don’t recognize, nervously fidgeting with her hands.

Chisa glances up briefly but her focus quickly returns to her guest. From the snippets of conversation you catch, it’s clear this is related to Chisa’s investigative work. The name "Heeseung" drifts into the air, making your ears perk up. It doesn’t take much to guess that this girl is likely her source for the exposé she’s working on about him. You decide not to interrupt, slipping quietly into the kitchen.

As you pack your lunch you start the coffee maker, preparing enough for both yourself and Jaehyun. The low hum of the machine blends with the muffled conversation in the living room, and you can’t help but eavesdrop.

"There was this week during our sophomore year," the girl begins, her voice hesitant but steady. "Heeseung became like a zombie."

Chisa leans forward, her tone inquisitive but gentle. "What do you mean by that?"

"One day he was fine—happy, talkative, charming," the girl explains. "But then, out of nowhere, it was like he had no soul. He was dragging his feet around campus and could barely keep his head up in class. He disappeared from the party scene. If anyone outside his close friends tried to talk to him, they’d just get this blank stare. Sometimes it would take him ten minutes just to process what they said and ask them to repeat themselves."

You pause mid-reach for a tumbler lid, your interest fully captured.

"Do you know what caused it?" Chisa prompts, her fingers poised over her keyboard.

"It was around the time Karina—this girl he was seeing—posted on her social media that they were over," the source continues. "She told her friends she was pregnant, and Heeseung asked her to get an abortion. Her friends spread it all over campus, hoping it would ruin him, but it backfired on Karina instead. She got so much attention—negative attention—that she ended up transferring schools."

The tumbler lid in your hand slips and clatters loudly to the floor, breaking the silence. Chisa’s head snaps up, her sharp eyes narrowing slightly as she catches sight of you. The source startles, glancing toward the kitchen.

"Sorry!" you blurt quickly bending to retrieve the lid. Your cheeks heat under Chisa’s gaze.

"I think we should move this to my room," Chisa says pointedly, her tone leaving no room for argument. She gathers her things and gestures for the girl to follow, leaving you alone in the kitchen.

You sigh, frustrated that you won’t hear the rest of the conversation. Your phone buzzes on the counter and you see Jaehyun’s name flashing across the screen.

"I’m outside," his cheerful voice announces when you pick up. "Ready when you are."

"Be right down," you reply, grabbing your lunch and the now-filled coffee tumblers. With one last glance toward Chisa’s now-closed bedroom door, you head out.

Jaehyun greets you with his usual bright smile as you slide into the passenger seat of his car. "Good morning," he chirps, clearly in high spirits.

You hand him his coffee, which he accepts gratefully. "Thanks, you’re a lifesaver," he says, taking a sip. "How’s your morning been so far?"

"Fine," you reply, keeping your answer deliberately vague.

As Jaehyun pulls out of your apartment complex, the car is filled with a comfortable silence. He drums his fingers on the steering wheel before glancing at you. "So," he starts, "my weekend was amazing, I really feel like 2025 is gonna be my year! New Year new me type beat. I actually went hiking for the first time in ages. Yunho dragged me out of bed for it." He laughs, clearly recalling the memory. "But it was worth it. The view was insane."

You glance at him, intrigued. "Sounds nice. How long was the hike?"

"Too long for someone who doesn’t hike regularly," he admits with a sheepish grin. "But Yunho made up for it. Last night he whipped up some pork belly for dinner. It was in that moment that I knew moving in with him was the best decision I’ve ever made.""

The rest of the drive passes quickly, with Jaehyun regaling you with tales of his weekend.

As you step into the office, Dani is already waiting by the elevator, her clipboard in hand and an air of urgency about her. "There you two are," she says briskly. "Come on, no time to waste. Heeseung and Sakura are waiting for you in the conference room."

You blink, momentarily confused. "They weren’t scheduled until later?" You’ve been seeing the couple for a little over a month now, Heeseung is still avoidant of vulnerability and Sakura still holds on tightly to the PR-trained answers she was taught, it’s been…difficult. You’ve managed to get them to go on dates for PR but beyond that it doesn’t seem like much progress has been made.

"Sakura has a flight to Japan tonight," Dani explains as she presses the elevator button. "We had to move things up."

"What about my other clients?" you ask, stepping into the elevator.

"They’ve been redistributed. Miss Min wants you to focus solely on this session."

You nod mentally adjusting your plans for the day. As the elevator ascends, Dani hands you a folder. "Miss Min also wants you to go through these questions during the session," she says. "They’ll help determine if additional resources like a sex therapist or intimacy coach are needed."

You glance at the folder but don’t open it yet. "Got it," you say clutching it tightly as the elevator doors open. Jaehyun follows you out, his curiosity clearly piqued.

"I don’t get why Miss Min paired those two," he comments as you both head to your office. "They’re so different. Plus, Sakura’s schedule doesn’t exactly scream ‘relationship-friendly let alone marriage.’"

You shrug, placing your coat and bag on the back of your chair. "It’s not our job to judge, we’re just here to counsel."

As you sit down and open the folder, your cheeks heat up almost instantly. The first page is filled with intimate questions—far more personal than you expected. One in particular catches your eye: Are you more dominant, submissive, or flexible in the bedroom?

Your mind immediately conjures an image of Heeseung answering the question with his trademark smirk and you quickly shake the thought away. Jaehyun notices your reaction and tilts his head. "Everything okay?"

"Fine," you say too quickly but Jaehyun isn’t convinced.

He leans over slightly, noticing your furrowed brows as you stare at the folder. "What’s up? Something weird in there?"

You hesitate before pointing to the question. "It’s just... this."

Jaehyun’s eyes skim the page before landing on it. His brows furrow, "what's wrong with it?"

His reaction makes you laugh nervously and you quickly close the folder. "I know these kinds of things are standard, but seeing it spelled out like that..."

"It’s definitely direct," Jaehyun agrees, leaning back with a casual shrug. "But it makes sense. We need to know if the couple is compatible on all levels."

You nod, your cheeks still warm. "Yeah, I get it. It just caught me off guard."

Jaehyun watches you for a moment, his expression unreadable before he nods. "Don’t overthink it. Just another day on the job, right?"

"Yeah, I know."

Jaehyun studies you for a moment before shrugging. "Anyway, good luck with the session."

You thank him before taking a deep breath. You grab your notebook and pens, mentally preparing yourself before heading out to the conference room.

As you enter the room, you immediately spot Heeseung and Sakura seated at the table. Heeseung is dressed in slacks and a white button-up shirt with the sleeves rolled up, exposing his veiny forearms and the glint of a Rolex on his wrist. His suit jacket hangs neatly over the back of his chair. Sakura, on the other hand, looks immaculate in a Miu Miu tennis dress, the subtle luxury of her outfit a stark contrast to your more practical attire. For a moment, you feel underdressed, but you push the thought aside.

You take in the couple and note something is clearly off. Sakura’s posture is stiff, her hands folded tightly in her lap as she glances away from Heeseung. Heeseung in turn sits with an air of frustration, his jaw tight as he drums his fingers against the table. The tension is palpable but you decide against addressing it directly. Instead, you greet them with a warm smile.

"Good morning," you say, your tone upbeat. "How have you both been this week?"

Sakura is the first to respond. She exhales softly, her voice tinged with weariness. "Busy. It feels like I haven’t had a moment to breathe."

You nod. "I get that, sometimes life hits us hard," you say gently. "But it’s important to remember that you can’t do everything at once. Take small breaks when you can, even if it’s just to stretch or breathe deeply for a few minutes. Those little moments can make a big difference."

Sakura’s expression softens slightly at your words, her shoulders relaxing a bit. "I’ll try," she says, though her tone carries a hint of doubt.

"Also, there’s no rush, I know your schedule is hectic but have there been any openings yet? I’d really love to set up some time for a one-on-one session when it works for you." It’s been a month and yet you’ve still heard nothing about her schedule opening up.

Sakura shakes her head regretfully. "Not yet. But I’ll make sure to prioritize it soon."

You smile, appreciating her effort, before turning your attention to Heeseung who’s already staring at you with an intensity that makes your skin prickle. "And how about you, Heeseung?" you ask, keeping your tone light.

He shrugs, his response curt. "Fine."

The room falls silent for a moment Sakura sighing audibly at his lack of elaboration but choosing to remain quiet. You decide not to push him instead shifting gears. "Before we start today’s session," you say, pulling out the intimacy questionnaires from your folder, "I’d like you both to fill these out."

You lay the papers on the table, sliding one toward each of them along with a pen. "These are designed to help us understand your preferences and needs better, especially in terms of intimacy. We’ll take the first fifteen minutes of today’s session for this. Use this time to relax and release any stress. Remember, this space is meant to be a break from your day-to-day personas."

Heeseung’s brow arches slightly, his interest clearly piqued, while Sakura looks hesitant, her cheeks tinged with pink. Slowly, they both pick up their pens and begin.

Heeseung dives into the questions with ease, his pen moving swiftly across the page. Sakura, in contrast, takes her time, her brows furrowing as she carefully considers each response. Within minutes Heeseung leans back in his chair with a smirk, sliding his completed questionnaire across the table toward you.

"Here you go," he says, his voice dripping with confidence. "I hope it’s detailed enough."

You murmur a soft "thank you" as you take the paper, your cheeks warming under his unwavering gaze. Lowering your eyes, you scan his responses and your breath hitches. Most of his answers align with your own preferences—he’s dominant, favors partners who are a bit bratty, and his list of kinks is extensive. One question in particular catches your attention: What turns you on the most in a partner? His answer: Someone who knows how to challenge me.

You glance up briefly, catching his smirk and quickly look back down, crossing your legs instinctively as you clear your throat. "This is… comprehensive."

Heeseung tilts his head his smirk widening. "I aim to please."

The tension in the room feels suffocating but you force yourself to maintain composure. Jotting down notes you feel Heeseung’s gaze boring into you, predatory and unrelenting.

Sakura finally finishes her questionnaire, handing it over with a quiet "here." You take it with a smile and glance through her responses. As expected, her preferences lean more toward the vanilla side—she’s submissive and prefers straightforward intimacy without many kinks involved. You make a note of the contrast between their answers before setting the papers aside.

“Thank you both for completing these,” you say folding your hands on your lap. “Now, let’s talk about your week. Have you spent any time together outside what we require for media play?”

Both shake their heads and Sakura is the first to speak. “We’ve both been busy,” she says stiffly, her tone edged with frustration. “Our schedules don’t exactly align.”

“I know it’s difficult, but carving out time for each other is crucial. This relationship requires effort from both sides. Miss Min plans on announcing the engagement soon.”

Sakura sits up straighter her voice tightening. “I’ve tried,” she says sharply. “I’ve invited him over to my home, showed up at his office during breaks, and even reached out to his friends for his schedule. But it feels like I’m being met with resistance.”

You turn to Heeseung. “Is there a reason you haven’t been reciprocating those efforts?”

Heeseung shrugs, avoiding your gaze. The silence stretches uncomfortably. You give him space, but when it becomes clear he won’t elaborate, you gently prompt, “Heeseung… these sessions won’t work if you’re not willing to communicate.”

He exhales sharply his tone clipped as he mutters, “I’m busy.”

Sakura’s restraint snaps. “That’s a lie,” she says, turning to face him directly. Her glare is piercing and her voice carries a biting edge. “You just don’t want to be vulnerable. You always keep everyone at arm’s length and I’m tired of trying to break through.”

Heeseung meets her gaze, his face impassive, his voice cold. “Then stop.”

The tension in the room becomes suffocating. You raise a hand, trying to redirect. “Let’s take a step back,” you suggest, your tone soothing. “This isn’t about assigning blame. It’s about—”

But Sakura cuts you off, her voice rising in pitch. “No, let’s talk about it. Let’s talk about how you shut me out completely and act like I’m the one in the wrong. It’s selfish, you think just because you’re Lee Heeseung you can get away with it? Well, you can’t. Not with me.”

Her words hit hard and you see the subtle twitch of Heeseung’s jaw as he clenches his fists. His voice drops, now dangerously calm. “I’m selfish? Coming from the nation’s princess who’s used to having everything handed to her? Just because the world bows at your feet doesn’t mean I will.”

You glance between them, trying to interject. “Heeseung, Sakura, this isn’t productive—”

But Sakura barrels on, her tone cutting and raw. “You’re lashing out because you know I’m right,” she snaps. “I’m your fiancée. You’re supposed to want to talk to me, to share your life with me. But you don’t and you never have.”

Heeseung’s composure cracks. His voice is seething with barely contained anger. “Fiancée? Don’t kid yourself, it’s not by choice.”

The words land like a slap. Sakura freezes, staring at him as the weight of his admission sinks in. Her lips part slightly, her breath catching in her throat. Without another word, she grabs her bag and storms out the door slamming shut behind her.

The room falls into a heavy silence.

You sit back stunned, frustration swirling in your chest. You feel a pang of guilt for not deescalating the situation, but part of you is also shocked by the emotion Sakura displayed. The poised, unflappable Miyawaki Sakura has cracked and it leaves you wondering: Are her feelings for Heeseung real?

The question lingers as you turn your attention to Heeseung.

He’s slouched in his seat, his hands clenched into fists on the table. His jaw is tight, his eyes staring blankly at the floor.

You lean forward slightly, softening your tone. “Heeseung,” you begin gently, “I know this isn’t easy for you. But taking it out on her isn’t fair. It’s not going to help either of you.”

He runs a hand down his face, his frustration giving way to something closer to regret. “I know,” he mutters. “She didn’t deserve that. I just… I lost my temper.”

“Why? What is it about this situation that’s upsetting you so much?” You ask softly.

He hesitates, his eyes darting toward the door before returning to you. His voice is quieter now. “It doesn’t feel right,” he says finally. “This whole thing—it feels fake. Like she’s just trying to learn about me so she can use it somehow.”

You tilt your head trying to understand. “Do you think she’s being disingenuous? Or is it just hard for you to trust her intentions?”

He shifts uncomfortably in his seat, his voice strained. “I don’t know. It’s not that I think she’s lying. It’s just… being around her feels like a performance. Like she’s saying what she thinks I want to hear.” He pauses, glancing at you. “With you, it’s different.”

That catches you off guard and you blink unsure how to respond. Heeseung seems to realize how it sounds and quickly adds, “I mean, it’s easier. Talking to you feels… real.”

You try to rationalize it. “Maybe that’s because I’m trained for this,” you say gently. “Sakura’s not. She’s trying, but she doesn’t have the tools to help you the way I can.”

He shakes his head, his gaze steady on yours. “It’s not just that,” he says quietly. “I want to talk to you. With her, I just… don’t.”

The sincerity in his voice makes your chest tighten. You remind yourself to maintain professional boundaries.

“You should give her a chance,” you say, your tone soft but firm. “She wants to be there for you. And you have to let her in if you want this to work.”

Heeseung looks at you for a long moment before nodding slowly. “I’ll apologize,” he says, his voice low.

You relax slightly, relieved. “That’s a good start. But you have to start putting in the effort. Marriage requires work, Heeseung.”

He looks at you again, something unreadable in his expression. Then, out of nowhere, he asks, “Can I take you to dinner?”

You blink, taken aback. Did your words go in one ear and out the other? "What?”

He smirks, his earlier vulnerability fading. “I'm cashing in on my win from pool.”

You scramble for an answer, “H-huh? No."

"Why not?"

"You’re engaged," you reply incredulously.

He leans forward, resting his arms on the table. "Who said it’s romantic? I just want to take you out as friends."

You gape at him, unsure how to respond to his logic. "Friends?" you echo.

"Practically best friends," he jokes, standing and rounding the table to stand close to you. "I mean, we’ve known each other for a while now and I’ve told you about my childhood. Doesn’t that make us friends now?"

Before you can respond, his hand moves toward your face, swiping gently at your bottom lip with his thumb. "Your gloss was dripping," he says, his voice low and amused.

You freeze staring into his eyes, your breath catching at the boldness of his gesture. For a moment, you can’t move, heat rushing to your cheeks. Finally, you manage to pull away, your voice barely above a whisper. "I’ll think about it."

Heeseung smirks as he straightens up his movements unhurried as he heads to his chair and grabs his coat. "I’ll contact you with the details," he says casually, as though your answer was a foregone conclusion.

You swallow hard, still trying to process what just happened. Watching him stride out of the room with that same infuriating smirk, you feel a strange mixture of pride and apprehension. Somehow, you’ve made it to "friend" status with him faster than his actual fiancée who still seems like a stranger to him. The thought sends a wave of unease through you, but there’s also a part of you—a dangerous, selfish part—that feels drawn to him and wants to know him even better.

"I said I’d think about it," you call after him, your tone insistent. The sound of the door closing behind him leaves you in silence, his lack of acknowledgment only making you groan in frustration. Slumping over the table, you bury your face in your hands. "Screw you, Lee Heeseung," you mutter, torn between exasperation and something you can’t quite name.

THURSDAY FEBRUARY 13TH, 2025

Three days have passed since your last session with Heeseung and Sakura, and the sheer amount of paperwork you've had to catch up on has consumed you entirely. You’ve spent the past few days catching up on your other cases—reports, assessments, and follow-ups that Jaehyun and your coworkers had taken over temporarily. The effort to regain control of your workload has been overwhelming leaving little room for distractions including the dinner Heeseung had proposed.

The office is unusually quiet today with Jaehyun off consulting on a match he recently facilitated. Left alone, you sit at your desk typing away at a report on Christopher Bang, an up-and-coming tech CEO looking for love. The clack of your keyboard fills the room until your phone buzzes on the desk drawing your attention.

You glance at the screen seeing a text from an unknown number, the preview shows the beginning of a location. Frowning, you unlock your phone to read the full message, wondering if it’s a client or a wrong number.

1:32 pm | unknown: 754 longwood ave, 7pm.

Before you can ponder too much on who this is, another text comes in.

1:33 pm | unknown: this is heeseung btw

Your eyes widen in surprise. How did he even get your number?

1:33 pm | you: how did you get my personal number? 1:34 pm | unknown: i asked miss min she was happy to oblige ^^ 1:34 pm | you: i never agreed to go to dinner with you.

Seconds later laughing emojis pop up on your screen followed by an incoming call from the same number. You hesitate, your finger hovering over the screen before curiosity gets the better of you and you answer.

"What now?" you say your tone guarded but not unkind.

"Relax," Heeseung’s smooth voice replies, his teasing lilt immediately disarming. "It’s purely platonic. Don’t make it weird. I just want to hang out with my friend."

Your stomach flips at the word friend. You hesitate, trying to maintain your professional stance. "I’m not sure this is appropriate."

"Appropriate?" he echoes, his voice tinged with amusement. "I’m not asking you to elope with me. It’s dinner, not a scandal."

"Heeseung..."

"C’mon," he cuts in smoothly. "I’m sure you’ve been working nonstop, haven’t you? You deserve a break."

"Fine," you say finally, the word slipping out before you can overthink it. "When?"

"Tomorrow at seven," he replies instantly, satisfaction evident in his tone.

You bite your lip, debating briefly. "Fine," you relent. "But I’ll drive myself."

"Not happening. I’ll pick you up."

"Really, it’s not necessary," you insist, but he doesn’t budge.

"It’s not up for debate," he says firmly. "I’ll be at your place."

You huff in frustration. "At least park a block away. I don’t want my roommate getting the wrong idea."

"Done," he agrees, the humor in his voice unmistakable. "See? I can compromise."

You laugh despite yourself. "Barely."

"I’ll see you tomorrow," he says, his tone warm before hanging up.

You stare at your phone, your heart fluttering in a way that feels both thrilling and dangerous. Just as you set the phone down, the office door opens and Jaehyun walks in groaning loudly.

“I swear, if this week gets any worse, I’m quitting and opening a food truck.”

You chuckle, shaking your head at him. “You can’t cook?”

He glares at you causing you to back down and apologize. “Sorry…rough day?”

“Rough week,” he corrects with a pout rubbing the back of his neck. Then his eyes light up. “Let’s all go out for drinks tomorrow. You know, celebrate surviving this week.”

You freeze for a fraction of a second then quickly recover. “I can’t,” you say forcing a smile. “I’ve got a lot to catch up on.”

Jaehyun leans forward, eyebrows raised in mock offense. “What? No way. Don’t tell me you’re choosing work over me.”

“It’s not personal,” you tease, hoping your voice sounds natural.

“But it feels personal,” he fires back, pointing an accusing finger at you. “Come on, you don’t even have to drink! Moral support. That’s all I’m asking.”

You shake your head feigning regret. “Sorry, I really can’t. I’ve got a mountain of paperwork waiting for me.”

“Paperwork? On a Friday? That’s criminal. What are you really doing?”

“I told you,” you insist, trying to keep the guilt out of your tone. “Work.”

Jaehyun squints at you like he’s trying to see through your soul. “You’re lying,” he declares dramatically.

You laugh nervously. “I’m not lying.”

“Yes, you are. You’re doing that thing where your voice goes all soft and weird. What’s the real reason you’re bailing?”

Your stomach twists. “I just need to focus,” you say, dodging the question.

He sits up suddenly and gives you a pleading look. "What if you came for just an hour?"

You shake your head. "I really can’t. I need to bang out as much work as I can tomorrow so I can enjoy my weekend."

"What’s the point of a weekend if you’re burned out by Friday night?" Jaehyun counters. "You can’t seriously want to spend all day tomorrow staring at questionnaires and client reports."

You shrug, trying to seem nonchalant. "Well no but that’s the plan."

He narrows his eyes. "You’re really going to work the whole day?"

"If it means I can relax guilt-free for the rest of the weekend, yes," you reply, keeping your tone light despite the growing weight of guilt in your chest. You’ve never deliberately lied to Jaehyun before and the realization stings more than you expected.

"You’re no fun," he says, slumping dramatically in the chair again. "Chisa’s going to eat me alive."

"You’ll survive."

“Barely," he mutters, giving you one last pout before throwing his hands up in defeat. "Fine, fine. But you’re missing out. Don’t say I didn’t warn you when you’re drowning in fomo."

You grin, glad he’s finally letting it go. "I’ll keep that in mind."

He shakes his head with mock disappointment then leans back in his chair already pulling out his phone. The guilt lingers in your chest like a weight but you push it aside telling yourself it’s just a small lie.

The rest of the afternoon passes in a familiar rhythm, Jaehyun’s occasional mutterings breaking the silence as you both chip away at your workloads. By the time you’re ready to leave, you’re relieved to part ways.

___

When you arrive home, the first thing you notice is the sound of laughter coming from the living room. Stepping inside you find Chisa’s source sitting comfortably on the couch sipping hot chocolate from your favorite mug. The sight makes your eye twitch slightly; that mug was a gag gift from Yunho during last year's Secret Santa and you’d grown oddly attached to it.

You take off your heels and coat, forcing yourself to stay composed. Chisa looks up with a bright smile on her face. " ____!You’re home!” She shifts in her seat. “I never got the chance to introduce you last time. This is Jasmine," she says, gesturing to her guest. "She’s my source for the article."

Jasmine glances up at you, her expression curious. She’s holding the mug in both hands, her posture relaxed as though she’s been here a hundred times before. "Hi," she says, her tone friendly.

You offer a polite smile though it feels a bit strained. "Hello."

"It’s nice to meet you," Jasmine says warmly, setting the mug down. "Chisa’s told me a lot about you."

You glance at Chisa, wondering just how much she’s shared. "All good things, I hope," you say masking your unease.

Chisa cuts in waving you off. "Of course all good things!” she sips her own hot chocolate before sitting up straighter. "Oh! And did I mention? ____ is currently working with Heeseung."

Your head snaps toward her from your shoe rack. The weight of her words settles awkwardly in the room. No one outside of the matchmaking firm is supposed to know about Heeseung and Sakura—not until Miss Min decides the time is right to announce their engagement. Even within the firm, the details have been kept tightly under wraps.

Jasmine’s eyes widen in surprise. "Really? What do you do?"

You scramble for a vague answer not wanting to divulge too much. "I’m an advisor," you lie, keeping your tone neutral. "I help people navigate challenging situations."

Jasmine tilts her head intrigued. "That’s interesting. So, you’re advising Heeseung on something specific?"

Not wanting to continue this conversation you speak up with a weary smile. "Sorry, it’s been a long day. I think I’ll head to bed early if you don’t mind."

Jasmine opens her mouth as if to say more but seems to think better of it. "Of course. Goodnight," she says, offering a polite nod.

Chisa looks at you, her guilt evident. "Goodnight," she echoes, her tone soft and apologetic.

You nod briefly before retreating to your room.

Once inside you let out a heavy sigh, leaning against the door. Your thoughts churn as you move through your nightly routine, growing more and more annoyed with Chisa. Standing in front of your bathroom sink, you splash water on your face, the coolness momentarily grounding you.

As you pat your face dry, your mind drifts back to Chisa’s article. It’s causing so many complications—tonight being just one example.

You brush your teeth, trying to calm the nagging worry in your mind. For the first time, you seriously consider telling Heeseung about the article. He has a right to know, doesn’t he? But the idea feels sneaky—although you're mildly annoyed with Chisa she's still your best friend, you've known her since middle school and you know just how badly she wants to be a top journalist, you can't sabotage her career like that. Yet the thought of keeping this from Heeseung gnaws at you, leaving you feeling trapped.

By the time you crawl into bed, you’re still at your wits end. Staring at the ceiling, you wonder just how much more complicated things are going to get.

FRIDAY FEBRUARY 14TH, 2025

For the first time in over a week, you wake up feeling relaxed. You stretch letting out a soft sigh, savoring the rare sense of peace. It’s your day off—no back-to-back sessions, no endless paperwork, just a quiet morning ahead of you.

Then you remember: dinner with Heeseung.

The thought sends a wave of anxiety and excitement through you, an odd mix that quickens your heartbeat. Rolling onto your side, you grab your phone from the nightstand, intending to check your messages. But your thumb hovers over the screen before you set it down. Later, you decide. Breakfast first.

Slipping out of bed, you head toward the kitchen still rubbing the sleep from your eyes. When you step inside, you freeze. The kitchen island is completely covered—chocolates, flowers, and cheesy Valentine’s Day decorations everywhere. Heart-shaped balloons float lazily near the ceiling and stuffed bears hold miniature signs that say “Be Mine.”

“What…?” you murmur, blinking at the scene in confusion. It takes you a second to process it all, your mind still groggy.

Chisa enters the kitchen moments later, her arms carrying a grocery bag and a small bouquet of wildflowers. “Good morning!” she chirps before pausing to take in your bewildered expression. “What’s with the face?”

You turn to her, pointing at the extravagant display. “What’s all this?”

Chisa looks at you like you’ve grown a second head. “It’s Valentine’s Day? We’re hosting Galentine’s, remember?”

Your frown deepens. “No, we’re not. Valentine’s isn’t for another week.”

Chisa lets out a laugh as she drops off the groceries and flowers to grab a carton of milk. “No, it’s today. Have you been so wrapped up in work that you completely lost track of time? We planned this months ago!”

Her words sink in slowly and when you realize she’s not joking you groan softly rubbing your temple. “I completely forgot,” you admit, the embarrassment creeping in. “Jaehyun invited us out for drinks today too—maybe that’s why it slipped my mind.”

Chisa shrugs, pouring cereal into a bowl. “Yeah, maybe. But we can always go out for drinks tomorrow—no biggie. Anyway, want to help me decorate? I got most of the stuff this morning, but I still need to put it all together.”

Guilt starts to creep in as you glance at her hopeful expression, but you already know you can’t stay. “I’m really sorry,” you begin, “but I’m really busy. I can’t stay for the party.”

Chisa crosses her arms, giving you a pointed look. “Busy or not, we’re hosting this together. You can’t bail on me now—it’s Galentine’s!”

You hesitate, the lie forming before you can stop it. “I wish I could, but I have so much work to catch up on. I’ll barely have time to breathe today.”

Her face falls. “Seriously? You’re not staying?”

You nod, forcing an apologetic smile. “I’m really sorry, Chisa. I just can’t.”

“But you helped plan this! You’re supposed to be my co-host! I can’t do it all by myself.”

“I know and I feel terrible, but I really can’t stay. I’ve got deadlines piling up.”

Chisa’s face falls, her enthusiasm dimming almost instantly. “Oh. Okay… I just feel like I haven’t really seen you much lately,” she says, stirring her cereal. “I only ever see you come and go for work. We haven’t really talked in a while.”

You nod, guilt settling deeper in your chest because you know she’s right. “I know. I’m sorry,” you say softly. “I’ve just had a lot on my plate now that I’m handling Heeseung.”

Her expression shifts slightly, a mixture of curiosity and hesitance. “Are you mad at me?” she asks, her voice quieter now.

Your brows knit together. “Why would I be mad at you?”

“Well,” she starts, setting her bowl down, “I mean… I’m writing an exposé about Heeseung and I kind of put you in an uncomfortable position last night with Jasmine.”

You nod slowly considering how to answer. You were annoyed with her for what happened but you also know you can’t hold it against her for doing her job. “I’m not mad at you,” you say after a moment. “I get that this is your job, and writing this article is a big deal for you… just leave me out of it, please. It made me really uncomfortable last night when you told Jasmine I work with Heeseung. No one is supposed to know.”

Chisa’s eyes widen. “Wait—you’re not going to tell your boss about this, are you?”

You fidget with the hem of your sleeve, unsure how to respond. “I don’t want to,” you say finally, “and I don’t have any intentions to, as long as you keep me out of the loop.”

Chisa nods quickly. “Okay. I’m sorry,” she says, her voice sincere. “I just thought that if Jasmine knew you were a therapist, she might feel more comfortable opening up about any mental health concerns she noticed with Heeseung.”

You nod, “moving forward, can you not sacrifice my confidentiality with my patient for the sake of your article? I haven’t told anyone you’re writing it and I’d appreciate it if you showed me the same courtesy by not discussing my clientele or the nature of my job with your sources.”

Chisa looks genuinely remorseful. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I won’t do it again.”

You offer her a small smile, a peace offering. “Thanks. I’m gonna head back to my room.”

“What about breakfast?” she asks, gesturing to the second bowl she had taken out.

You glance at the table and shake your head. “I’m not really hungry. Plus, I need to get as much work done as I can before heading to the office later.” Another lie, but it rolls off your tongue too easily.

Chisa sighs, clearly disappointed. “Fine. I’ll just finish this myself.”

You retreat to your room, shutting the door softly behind you. Reaching for your phone, you type out a quick text to Heeseung.

11:45 am | you: did you know today is valentine’s day? 11:45 am | heeseung: of course i did i have a calendar.

You roll your eyes at the playful tone you can practically hear.

11:45 am | you: why are we going to dinner on valentine’s day? 11:46 am | heeseung: why not? 11:46 am | you: you should be spending today with sakura. 11:46 am | heeseung: she’s still in japan 11:47 am | heeseung: i sent her flowers and a card apologizing for what i said during our last session 11:47 am | heeseung: but i can’t spend valentines with someone who’s not here

You sigh, knowing he’s right—he can’t spend the day with her if she’s not even in the country. But a small part of you wonders if that’s really a good enough reason. He has more than enough money to fly himself to Japan and do something grand for her if he truly wanted to. Shoving that thought aside, you focus on the fact that he wants to spend time with you instead.

11:50 am | you: okay, i guess that’s fine 11:50 am | you: how did she respond to the flowers and card? 11:51 am | heeseung: she called to say she loved them. 11:51 am | you: that’s good.

you reply, though you’re not entirely sure you mean it.

11:53 am | heeseung: mhm 11:53 am | heeseung: send me your address

You do and remind him to park a block away like you agreed.

11:54 am | heeseung: yes, ma’am. be ready by six

You don’t respond, setting your phone down as you get up to start getting ready. The faint sound of a knock on your door pulls you out of your thoughts. Before you can answer, Chisa steps in, looking slightly disheveled, her hair pulled up in a loose bun.

“Do you have something I can borrow?” she asks, her eyes darting toward your closet. “I need something to wear for tonight, but all my good stuff is still in the laundry.”

You chuckle softly. “Sure, take a look.”

Chisa crosses the room to sift through your dresses. As she pulls out a few options, she glances over her shoulder. “Also, can I borrow your car? I need to pick up a few last-minute things for tonight.”

You nod thinking about how her timing couldn’t have been better—her using your car means you don’t have to come up with an elaborate excuse for your appearance when Heeseung arrives. “Yeah, sure I don’t mind.”

“Thank you,” she says quickly, grabbing one of your satin tops and holding it against herself in the mirror. Then, she looks at you through the mirror, hesitating. “… are you sure you can’t stay for galentine’s?”

“What?”

“I mean….it won’t be the same without you,” she says, her voice softening.

For a moment, you consider it because truthfully you could stay. There’s no pressing work that needs your attention. But as much as you hate to admit it, part of you really wants to go to this dinner with Heeseung.

You force a small smile and shake your head. “I can’t tonight, Chisa. I have so much to catch up on, and I’m already behind.”

She stares at you for a moment, like she’s trying to read between the lines but eventually, she sighs and gives in. “Okay. I get it. Just don’t overwork yourself, okay?”

“Promise,” you say softly.

She leaves your room after grabbing the top and you let out a breath, feeling awful about lying. Truthfully, staying wouldn’t have been so bad but the thought of skipping dinner with Heeseung fills you with disappointment you’re not ready to admit.

You head to the bathroom stripping out of your casual clothes and step into the shower. As the warm water cascades over your skin, you debate whether or not to shave. It’s not like tonight is a date, you remind yourself. You don’t need to go all out but then again you reason, it’s just a little extra effort—completely unrelated to Heeseung.

By the time you step out, your skin is smooth and smells like heaven. You dress in a robe and start your skincare routine.

As you’re finishing your skincare, you hear the front door open and close as Chisa leaves with your car. You glance at the clock, noting the time and sit at your vanity to do your makeup. You opt for a soft glam look: neutral tones for your eyes, a touch of highlighter to make your skin glow, and a bold lip to tie it all together.

Once your makeup is finished you start on your hair keeping the style simple but elegant—nothing too specific, just enough to complement your look.

After, you stand in front of the mirror, contemplating your options. You settle on a sleeveless white dress with a floor-length skirt, ruffles, and a slit that climbs up the side. It’s elegant but not overdone. You pair it with the white Steve Madden heels Chisa had gifted you on your twenty-first birthday.

You run your fingers over the fabric, smoothing it down before slipping it on. Turning to the mirror, you adjust the fit, the slit subtly revealing just enough leg to catch the eye.

As you touch up your hair, your phone buzzes with a text from Heeseung.

5:55 pm | heeseung: i’m here.

Spritzing on your perfume, you grab your clutch, double-checking that your phone and wallet are inside. Taking a deep breath, you head out your heels clicking softly against the pavement. The evening air is cool, carrying a faint hum of city life as you make your way down the block.

And then you see him.

Leaning against an all-black Jaguar, Heeseung is impossible to miss. The sleek car glints under the streetlights but it’s him that truly catches your attention. He’s dressed in tailored black slacks and an oversized black blazer, the open lapels revealing nothing but smooth bare skin underneath. You note he’s even dyed his hair red, vibrant and bold, it frames his sharp features perfectly and the faint smirk on his lips carries a confidence that borders on dangerous.

You falter for a second, your steps slowing as you take him in. He straightens when he sees you, his smirk deepening as his eyes sweep over you, lingering just a little too long.

“Wow,” he drawls, his voice rich and teasing as his gaze locks onto yours. “You clean up nice.”

Your jaw tightens slightly, trying to compose yourself under his stare. “You’re one to talk,” you manage, though your voice falters ever so slightly.

Heeseung chuckles. He doesn’t seem to notice the tremor in your voice—or maybe he does and just enjoys it too much. His eyes sweep over you again, slower this time. “It’s Valentine’s Day. Had to make an impression.”

Your lips twitch in amusement as you tilt your head. “And the hair?”

His grin widens, one hand sliding into his pocket as he leans slightly closer. “Red—for Valentine’s. You like it?”

You hum noncommittally, trying not to let your gaze linger on the sharp angles of his jaw or the faint glint of a gold chain peeking out from under the blazer. “It suits you,” you admit, your voice quieter than intended.

“Good to know.” His tone is casual, but the way he looks at you feels anything but.

He pushes off the car, closing the distance between you with an easy stride. Before you can process it, his hand is on your waist—firm and warm, his touch steadying yet sending a rush of heat through you.

You stiffen slightly, but only for a moment. The way he guides you toward the car, his fingers pressing gently into your side, makes it nearly impossible to focus on anything else. You feel your resolve faltering, your body almost melting into his touch before you catch yourself. It’s ridiculous how much you’ve missed the simple weight of his hand.

When he opens the passenger door, your eyes land on the big bouquet of red roses waiting on the seat.

“What…?” you ask, looking at him in surprise.

He smirks. “What?”

“Do you get flowers for all your friends?” you ask, deep down hoping he’ll say no.

He nods, his smirk widening. “Only the best friends.”

Your shoulders drop slightly, disappointment flickering in your chest. But before you can respond, he leans in slightly, his voice dropping lower.

“And maybe the ones I find the prettiest.”

Your cheeks heat instantly, the unexpected compliment leaving you speechless. You give him a skeptical look, trying to play off your true emotions. He catches it and laughs softly. “What? Want me to call Jake so you can ask him yourself? He got a bouquet of pink roses this morning.”

That pulls a laugh from you and you shake your head. “Thanks,” you say, picking up the bouquet and slipping into the car.

Heeseung shuts the passenger door gently, circling the car to slide into the driver’s seat with a practiced ease. As the engine purrs to life, you fidget with the bouquet in your lap.

“I feel bad…I didn’t get you anything.”

Heeseung glances at you, his lips curling into a soft smile as he shakes his head. “Don’t worry about it,” he says, his tone smooth and reassuring. “I didn’t expect anything from you.”

You bite your lip, still feeling the weight of your oversight. “I’m still sorry. Honestly… I forgot today was Valentine’s Day.”

His hand leaves the steering wheel and rests lightly on your exposed thigh, the warmth of his palm grounding you. His thumb brushes against your skin as he squeezes softly. “Stop apologizing,” he murmurs, his gaze flickering to you briefly before returning to the road.

Your breath hitches at the sudden contact but the comfort in his touch drowns out the rational thoughts telling you this is wrong on so many levels. He doesn’t move his hand, letting it linger on your thigh as if it belongs there.

The car glides smoothly down the road, the tension in the air easing as Heeseung begins making subtle, playful comments. “You know,” he says, his tone light and teasing, “for someone who claims to be organized, forgetting Valentine’s Day is kind of impressive.”

You let out a small laugh, rolling your eyes. “It’s been a busy week.”

He hums in response, the corners of his mouth twitching up in a smirk. “You should let me take care of you more often,” he says, almost casually but the undertone of sincerity catches you off guard.

You turn to look at him, your heart fluttering at the unexpected intimacy in his words. “I’m fine,” you say, though the warmth spreading through you says otherwise.

The car ride stretches on, the city lights flickering past as Heeseung keeps the conversation light and playful.

After nearly an hour, the car slows to a stop in front of Lumière, one of the most exclusive restaurants in the city. The name alone carries a reputation of luxury and your eyes widen as you take in the elegant architecture. The building glows softly under the city lights, its grand entrance framed by modern decor and lush greenery.

“Heeseung,” you whisper, your voice tinged with both awe and apprehension, “this place… why here?”

He cuts the engine and turns to you, his hand still resting on your thigh. His touch tightens slightly. “Don’t worry. No one will know. I rented the entire restaurant for us.”

Your head snaps toward him, your mouth falling open in disbelief. “You what?”

He laughs, the sound warm and unbothered. “I don’t halfass things,” he says, as if it’s the simplest explanation in the world.

You stare at him, struggling to process the extravagance of his gesture. “You… rented the whole place? Again? Heeseung, that’s—”

“Necessary,” he interrupts, his tone firm but gentle. “I didn’t want you to feel uncomfortable. And,” he adds, smirking, “you never have to worry about money when you’re with me.”

Before you can respond, a valet approaches opening your door with a polite smile. You step out, clutching the bouquet tightly only for Heeseung to join you a moment later, his arm slipping around your waist. The contact feels natural, like he’s done it a thousand times before.

Inside, the restaurant is breathtaking. Crystal chandeliers hang from the ceiling, casting a warm, golden light across the room. The polished floors gleam, and the scent of fresh lilies fills the air. You’re led to the third level of the restaurant and placed at a table by the floor-to-ceiling windows, the city skyline stretching out before you in a dazzling display of lights.

The waiter sets down the wine list and menus, offering a practiced smile. “I’ll be back shortly to take your orders.”

Heeseung thanks him, picking up the wine list as you settle into your seat. “Red or white?” he asks, glancing at you over the edge of the menu.

“Red but it has to be sweet.”

He nods, his eyes scanning the list before he settles on a selection. “Noted.”

As he sets the wine list aside, his attention shifts to you. “Are you a picky eater?”

You shrug, smiling a little. “My friends think I am, but I don’t think so.”

He smirks, leaning back in his chair. “So, you’re a picky eater.”

You narrow your eyes at him, feigning offense. “I’m not!”

He chuckles, “sure, you’re not.”

Ignoring his teasing, you open the menu, your eyes immediately drawn to the prices. The numbers make your stomach twist and you quickly refocus on the dishes pretending you didn’t see them.

“Anything catching your eye?” Heeseung asks, his gaze flickering to you.

“The truffle pasta sounds good,” you say hesitantly, “but so does the steak.”

“Why not get both?” he asks easily.

You shake your head, laughing softly. “What if I don’t finish it? The prices are a bit high…”

“Don’t take the price into consideration. Just get what you want.”

When the waiter returns, Heeseung orders the Château Margaux red wine, a selection of appetizers, penne alla vodka for himself and both the truffle pasta and steak for you. “Medium well for the steak,” you add, and the waiter nods before stepping away to put in the orders.

Once you’re alone again, Heeseung’s eyes settle on you. You shift under the weight of his stare, your cheeks heating. “What?” you ask, self-conscious. “Do I have something on my face?”

He shakes his head, his lips curving into a small smile. “No. You’re just beautiful.”

The compliment lands heavily, the sincerity in his voice leaving no room for misinterpretation. Your breath catches and you manage a soft “Thank you,” your cheeks burning.

The waiter returns with the wine, pouring you each a glass before leaving the bottle on ice. You take a cautious sip, the sweetness of the wine dancing on your tongue.

“It’s good,” you say, setting your glass down.

Heeseung studies you for a moment before nodding. “Good.”

The silence that follows is heavy but not uncomfortable. His gaze lingers, and you feel the tension between you both, a feeling you can’t quite name but don’t want to break.

Heeseung eventually leans forward, resting his elbows on the table. “So, tell me about you.”

You blink, caught off guard by the sudden request. Taking another sip of wine, you laugh softly. “What?”

He shrugs, leaning back in his chair and swirling his glass. “You know more about me than I know about you. It only seems fair.”

You bite back the urge to remind him that you’re his marriage counselor—of course you know more about him. But the reminder leaves a bitter taste in your mouth, emphasizing just how inappropriate this dinner really is. Clearing your throat, you force a small smile. “Okay. What would you like to know?”

Heeseung takes a long sip of his wine before setting the glass down. “The basics. Any siblings? Where are you from? Why did you choose to be a marriage counselor?”

Before you can answer, the waiter returns with the appetizers. The plates are set between you, the aroma of seared scallops and grilled vegetables filling the air. You thank the waiter and pick up your fork, glancing at Heeseung before answering his questions.

“I have an older sister, but we rarely see each other. We’re both busy with our own lives, I guess.”

Heeseung hums, his eyes fixed on you as he listens intently.

“I grew up in the suburbs before moving to the city for college,” you continue. “And as for why I chose this profession…” You pause, debating how much to reveal, but something about Heeseung reassures you. “My parents didn’t have the best marriage.”

Heeseung doesn’t interrupt, his expression softening as he nods for you to go on.

You set down your fork, suddenly aware of the weight of your own words. “My dad cheated on my mom a lot….when I was younger I remember them getting into screaming matches after big events—my violin recitals, eighth-grade formal, award ceremonies. I didn’t understand why they couldn’t just be happy.”

Heeseung’s gaze sharpens, his jaw tightening but he says nothing letting you continue.

“When I was in high school, I caught my dad sexting,” you admit, your voice quieter now. “I told my mom, and I thought she’d leave. I thought she should leave. But all she did was yell at him a little before leaving it alone. No crying, no demands for answers. She just told him he was lucky to have her and needed to learn to be okay with that.”

You laugh bitterly, “I thought he’d stop but two years later it happened again. This time, my mom caught him. It was the summer before my senior year. She actually cried that time—sobbed in my arms, saying over and over that it wasn’t fair. That she was human too.”

You clear your throat, realizing your voice has started to crack. “That was when I decided I wanted to be a marriage counselor. No one should be left feeling the way my mom did. Everyone deserves to find love and not settle for less.”

Heeseung leans back in his chair, his expression unreadable. But when he speaks his voice is soft. “That’s…an admirable reason. Wanting to help others like that.”

You nod, fiddling with your fork. “Thanks.”

“Are your parents still together?”

You glance up at him before nodding. “Yeah. My mom…she’s scared to start over. She thinks no one else will love her so she tolerates the cheating. Takes the crumbs she gets.”

Scoffing, you down the rest of your wine. “Sometimes I feel like such a shitty therapist. If I can’t even help my own mom see she deserves better, how can I possibly help anyone else?”

“Just because you couldn’t change your mom’s situation doesn’t make you a bad therapist.”

You blink, startled by the directness of his words. “I—”

He cuts you off. “You were a kid. You shouldn’t have had to fix your parents’ marriage. That wasn’t your responsibility then and it’s not your responsibility now. You’re human, not some miracle worker.”

The weight of his words sinks in and you feel a lump forming in your throat.

“I know it’s easy to question yourself when it’s personal,” he continues, his voice laced with a gentleness that’s unfamiliar. “But think about all the couples you’ve helped—how many lives you’ve changed just by being there for people when they couldn’t see a way forward.”

You glance down at your glass, his words are striking a chord deep within you.

“And if your mom couldn’t leave…” Heeseung pauses, as if carefully considering his next words. “Maybe that’s not a reflection of you. Maybe it’s just her fear of the unknown. That doesn’t make you any less capable or less valuable in what you do.”

You exhale shakily not realizing you’ve been holding your breath. “It’s just hard…watching her settle for less knowing she deserves so much more.”

“I get that but you can’t force someone to see their own worth. They have to come to that realization themselves. All you can do is guide them.”

His words linger in the space between you, and for the first time in a long while, you feel a faint sense of relief.

“Thank you,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper.

Heeseung nods, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “You’re good at what you do. Don’t doubt that.” He watches you quietly for a moment, his gaze soft as he considers if he should continue. Against his better judgement, he does. He swirls the wine in his glass before speaking, his tone measured and gentle. “Your dad was wrong for what he did to your family. That kind of betrayal… no one deserves that.”

His words make your chest tighten and you glance away.

“I’m sorry you had to carry the responsibility of telling your mom. That wasn’t fair to you. You shouldn’t have had to bear that weight.”

Your fingers tighten around the stem of your glass, your throat constricting at his words. No one has ever said that to you before—not your mom, not your sister, not anyone.

Heeseung leans forward slightly, trying to meet your gaze. “And just because your dad was like that… it doesn’t mean every man is. I hope you know that.”

“I hope you know what you deserve, too,” he adds softly, his eyes holding yours. “And that you never settle for less.”

The sincerity in his voice makes your eyes sting and for a moment you wonder how someone who’s clearly been through his own struggles can offer comfort so effortlessly. You glance away, unsure of how to respond.

Heeseung doesn’t press you to speak. He simply refills both your glasses and takes a sip of his.

Finally, you manage to croak out a soft, “Thank you.”

He gives you a small almost imperceptible smile before sitting back in his chair. “You deserve to hear it.”

The heaviness in the air between you lifts slightly but the intensity of the moment lingers. You take another sip of wine trying to ignore the way your heart flutters at his words. Something about the way he said them felt… different. Genuine.

And it terrifies you.

You clear your throat, eager to shift the focus away from yourself. “What about you? What are your basics?”

Heeseung sets his glass down. “I have one brother. Grew up in Seoul, always been a city boy.”

“And your job?” you ask, curious.

He falters for a second before he shrugs. “I didn’t really have much say in it. It was… expected, after my brother…You know.”

The air between you shifts.You notice the way his shoulders tense, how he avoids meeting your eyes. It’s clear he doesn’t like talking about what happened with his brother. You resist the urge to pry, choosing instead to just listen.

Heeseung seems to notice your restraint, his gaze softening. It’s as if he’s surprised you’re not pushing for more and the realization makes your heart ache.

His voice is quieter now, almost distant and when he speaks again it’s like he’s testing the waters of how much to share. “My dad was always… strict. Everything had to be...flawless. My grades, my behavior, my future. It wasn’t about what I wanted—it was about what was expected. And my mom…” He pauses, his fingers tracing the edge of his glass. “My mom was gentler, at least at first. She tried to balance him out I think but she always sided with him in the end. It didn’t matter if I cried or begged—he was always right.”

You nod, letting his words sink in. “That sounds… difficult.”

Heeseung huffs a quiet laugh, one that doesn’t reach his eyes. “Difficult doesn’t even begin to cover it.” He picks up his glass, swirling the wine before taking a sip. “But after Heejoon’s…accident, my mom changed.”

He stops, the words catching in his throat. His jaw tightens and his eyes flicker with something raw and unguarded. He doesn’t look at you and for a moment the silence feels unbearable.

You don’t push though. Instead, you sit with him in the silence giving him the room he needs.

Finally, Heeseung exhales sharply, running a hand through his hair. “She became just like my dad,” he says, his voice quieter now. “Worse, maybe. A helicopter parent. Every step I took, she was there. Every decision I made, she scrutinized. She was terrified I’d…” He trails off, his throat working around the words he can’t bring himself to say.

You tilt your head, watching him carefully. “She was scared of losing you too,” you say gently, filling in the blanks.

Heeseung nods his lips pressing into a thin line. “She pushed for the medication,” he says after a beat. “Said it would help and I guess in her mind, a zombie was better than…” He stops again, his voice breaking slightly.

You don’t need him to finish the sentence. The weight of what he’s not saying is heavy enough. A zombie was better than a dead son.

“I’m sorry,” you say softly, the words feeling inadequate but genuine.

Heeseung’s eyes flick up to meet yours, and for a moment, the vulnerability there takes your breath away. “I don’t blame her,” he says finally, his voice barely above a whisper. “She was just trying to protect me. In her own way.”

You nod, your heart aching for the boy he must’ve been—caught between his father’s expectations, his mother’s fear and the shadow of his brother’s struggles.

“You don’t have to explain,” you reassure him, leaning forward slightly to place your hand atop his. “You’ve been carrying so much, Heeseung. It’s okay to feel tired of it all. It doesn’t make you ungrateful or selfish. It just makes you human.”

There’s a vulnerability in his eyes as he stares at you. No one outside his close circle knows about Heejoon or his childhood but now you know it all and you’re still here. You know how his father wanted him to be the perfect son, the perfect CEO, with no regard for who Heeseung actually was or what he wanted. How every step, every decision—none of it belonged to Heeseung. How it was all a performance for public perception, a carefully crafted façade that his father demanded he maintain.

How his mother wanted something else entirely: the son she could no longer have with Heejoon. How after Heejoon’s attempted suicide her love became fear, her fear became control, and her control became suffocating. How she clung to Heeseung like he was a lifeline she couldn’t afford to lose. How every choice he made, every breath he took—she scrutinized it all, terrified that he’d follow the same path as his brother.

How it wasn’t love, not really. It was desperation. A need to shape Heeseung into a version of himself that wouldn’t break, wouldn’t crumble under the weight of expectations, wouldn’t slip through her fingers the way Heejoon almost did.

His father’s perfection and his mother’s fear—neither left room for him. Not the real Heeseung. The him that only gets to exist with Jay and Jake…and now you.

When he finally speaks his voice is softer, quieter. “It’s just… hard. Feeling like I have to live my life the way they want me to. Like I don’t get to be me.”

You hesitate, then speak carefully. “Do you… ever think about what you would’ve done if you hadn’t been expected to take over? If things had been different?”

Heeseung looks up at you, his expression softening at the shift in topic. He takes a moment to consider your question. “Music,” he says finally. “I probably would’ve done something with music.”

“Music?” you ask, your curiosity piqued.

Heeseung nods, the corner of his mouth lifting in a faint smile. “I have perfect pitch.”

Your eyebrows shoot up. “No way. Really?”

He lets out a quiet laugh, the sound lighter than anything you’ve heard from him all night. “Yeah.”

“Sing something,” you urge, leaning forward slightly.

He shakes his head, his smile widening. “Not a chance.”

“Come on,” you tease, grinning now.

Before he can respond, the waiter arrives with your main courses and clears the table of your appetizers. Heeseung takes the steak, leaving you with the pasta. You start to dig in, only to pause when you notice him cutting up your steak for you.

A small smile spreads across your face. “Thank you.”

Heeseung slides the plate back over to you, watching as you take a bite. You hum in approval, your eyes lighting up. “This is so good.”

Your buzzed state starts to show as you do a little dance in your seat clearly enjoying your food. Heeseung chuckles softly, shaking his head at you.

You spear a piece of steak with your fork and hold it out to him. “Try it.”

Heeseung stares at you with his expression blank but you just smile encouragingly. Something about the look on your face makes his heart swell and he leans forward taking the bite.

“Well?” you ask, your eyes wide with anticipation.

“It’s good,” he says simply, his voice soft.

You beam, satisfied, before returning to your food. Heeseung doesn’t eat right away, instead watching you with a fond smile.

The two of you fall into an easy rhythm, making small talk as you eat. The apprehension and fear you felt earlier have completely melted away replaced by a strange sense of comfort.

“So, what about your friends?”

You smile softly. “I have three close ones—Jaehyun, Yunho, and Chisa. They’re basically my second family.”

“Tell me about them.”

You nod, setting your fork down. “I met Jaehyun in a psych class freshman year. He just…clicked with me, I guess. Not that he gave me much choice—he was pretty persistent about being friends.”

Heeseung chuckles, “The guy I called a scrawny puppy?”

You snort, “yeah him. I met Yunho my sophomore year. Me Chisa and Jaehyun registered for the same math lecture, Yunho sat a few rows ahead of us. He seemed really smart and we were struggling so Jaehyun decided we needed him for a study group. Turns out, Yunho was smart—he basically carried us through that class. We clicked instantly, and the rest is history.”

“And Chisa?”

“Chisa and I go way back—middle school, actually.” you say. “We grew up on the same street, went to the same school. It was inevitable, we’ve been inseparable ever since. She’s actually my roommate”

“Is she a therapist too?”

You shake your head laughing at the image of Chisa as a therapist. “No. She’s a journalist.”

“What’s her concentration?”

You freeze, praying he doesn’t recognize her name. “She’s written a little of everything,” you lie and quickly switch the topic. “I was actually supposed to host a galentine's party with her tonight, but she ended up hosting it herself.”

Heeseung tilts his head, amused. “Galentine’s?”

You nod, your cheeks burning. “It’s like Valentine’s Day but for women. Chisa thought it would be fun to throw a party.”

Heeseung leans back, smirking. “You ditched your friends for me?”

You laugh nervously. “I didn’t ditch them…I-i…we had plans.”

Heeseung raises an eyebrow as he watches you swirl the wine in your glass. “What did you tell Chisa to get out of galentine’s?”

You groan softly, leaning back into your seat. “I told her I had work to catch up on. She knows how busy things can get for me sometimes so she didn’t really question it.”

Heeseung smirks, tilting his head. “So… you lied.”

You glance away, cheeks heating. “I mean, technically, yeah.”

“And why the secrecy?” he presses, his tone light but curious. “Why not just tell her you were having dinner with me?”

“It’s not like anyone would understand. People love to jump to conclusions, especially about things like this.”

Heeseung studies you for a moment, his expression unreadable. The silence stretches, the weight of everything unspoken settling between you. You know what he’s thinking—what you’re both thinking. That this isn’t just dinner. That whatever lines were supposed to separate you two have already been blurred beyond recognition.

But neither of you says it out loud. You refuse to give the thought power by voicing it, and so does he. It’s easier to pretend, to hold onto the thin veil of plausible deniability even if you both know it’s a lie.

You quickly down the rest of your wine, the warmth spreading through your chest doing little to dull the knot tightening in your stomach.

By the end of the night, your head is buzzing from the alcohol and your limbs feel loose and warm. As Heeseung watches you lean forward to place your empty glass on the table, he chuckles. “Let me take you home.”

You sigh with relief, slumping. “That would be great. I’m really missing my bed.”

He shakes his head, amused. “No, I mean my home.”

That sobers you up a little. “What?”

“Think about it. You didn’t tell your friends you were coming to dinner with me. What’s Chisa going to think if you show up drunk after supposedly working all night?”

Your mouth opens to respond but no words come out. You hadn’t thought that far ahead.

“I swear, nothing will happen. I just want to help you keep your cover.”

You hesitate but you know he’s right. Reluctantly, you nod. “Fine.”

Heeseung doesn’t give you a chance to change your mind. He signals for the bill, refusing to let you even catch a glimpse of the total. Once everything is settled, he helps you out of your seat and the restaurant all together.

The night air wraps around you as you step out of the restaurant and wait for the valet to bring around Heeseung’s car. The city buzzes softly in the background, cars humming in the distance and faint laughter spilling out from a nearby bar.

Heeseung stands beside you, his hands tucked into the pockets of his slacks.

"You didn't have to pay for dinner, you know," you say breaking the silence.

He glances at you, his lips curling into a small smirk. "You can get the next one then."

"Next one?"

Heeseung turns to face you, his expression unreadable. For a moment, you think he might backtrack but instead he takes a step closer, the faint scent of his cologne lingering in the cold air.

"Yeah," he says softly, his voice low. "Next one."

Your heart stutters in your chest, his gaze making it impossible to look away. You open your mouth to respond, but nothing comes out. Instead, you nod barely registering the movement.

Heeseung smiles. You’re both interrupted by the roar of his car as the valet parks it in front of you. Heeseung tips them heftily before helping you get in then taking the driver's seat.

The drive to his house is quiet but not awkward. When you arrive he helps you out of the car, his hand steady on your back as he guides you inside.

As you step into Heeseung’s home, your breath catches. The sheer scale of it is overwhelming, with high ceilings that seem to stretch endlessly and floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking a manicured backyard illuminated by soft garden lights.

The decor is sleek and modern with a monochromatic palette of whites, grays, and blacks accented by the occasional splash of navy blue. Plush furniture fills the space and a glass coffee table sits smack dab in the living room atop a textured gray rug that looks like it costs more than your monthly rent.

Your gaze wanders to the open kitchen, everything is pristine, like something out of a luxury home magazine but it doesn’t feel cold—it feels… lived-in.

“You live here?” you ask, your voice faint with disbelief.

Heeseung smirks, locking the door behind him. “All alone.”

“It’s… beautiful,”

“Thanks,” he says, shrugging off his coat. “It’s my safe place. I don’t really let people in—family, close friends…” His gaze flickers to you. “And now you.”

Your cheeks flush, but you manage a smile. “Thank you for trusting me with it.”

He nods toward the kitchen. “Want some dessert? We didn’t have any at the restaurant.”

You debate for a moment. “Depends. What do you have?”

He gestures for you to follow him and soon he’s pulling out a pint of vanilla ice cream and a bottle of wine.

You laugh, shaking your head. “I don’t think more wine is a good idea.”

Heeseung smirks, grabbing spoons. “What’s the harm?”

You roll your eyes but relent. “I swear, you always get your way.”

“Because I’m convincing,” he quips, handing you the wine glasses and leading you to the living room.

You settle into his living room, the cozy atmosphere surprising you. Heeseung sits beside you, closer than he probably needs to but you don’t mind. He scrolls through the movie options before landing on The Wedding Planner.

You laugh at his choice. “Seriously? This?”

“Don’t judge,” he says, pouring the wine. “It’s a classic.”

“It is,” you admit, taking a sip and leaning back into the couch. The movie begins, and you lose yourself in the lighthearted nostalgia, the two of you exchanging quiet comments and the occasional laugh.

As the night progresses the wine flows, the ice cream disappears, and the space between you shrinks. Halfway through the movie, you’re sitting cross-legged on the couch, fully facing Heeseung. His right arm rests casually along the back of the couch his hand grazing your shoulder.

Heeseung’s left hand drifts to your thigh, his thumb brushing the fabric of your dress. His touch is deliberate, his gaze lingering on you with an intensity that makes your breath hitch.

“You’re dangerous, you know that?” he murmurs.

You raise an eyebrow, your heart pounding. “How so?”

He leans in slightly, his lips curling into a gentle smile. “You’re too easy to fall for.”

The air thickens and you don’t even try to hide the way his words affect you. His hand tightens slightly on your thigh, his gaze flickering to your lips.

Your voice comes out softer than intended. “Heeseung…”

He studies you, his gaze dipping from your eyes to your lips and back again. “You’re perfect,” he murmurs, the words almost too soft to catch.

Your heart pounds against your ribcage, his proximity intoxicating. The way his hand lingers on your thigh, the way his gaze darkens as it locks with yours—it’s almost too much to bear.

But you don’t want it to stop.

You don’t respond to his compliment, your voice caught somewhere in your throat. Instead, your eyes flicker to his lips, betraying your thoughts.

Heeseung notices. Of course, he notices. His gaze drops to your lips for a fleeting moment before returning to meet your eyes, and that’s when you know—you’re not imagining this. What you’ve been feeling all night is mutual.

He leans in, his breath warm against your face. The tension coils tighter, a thread pulled taut between you both, ready to snap at any second.

And then you break it.

You make the first move, pressing your lips to his in a kiss that’s both hesitant and bold. It’s as though the moment you’ve been denying for so long has finally overtaken you, shattering the careful walls you’ve built.

Heeseung responds immediately, his hands sliding down to your hips as he pulls you closer, guiding you into his lap. His touch is firm but not forceful, like he’s been holding back for far too long and now that he’s allowed himself this, he doesn’t want to stop.

For the first time tonight there’s no hesitation. No second-guessing. Just the two of you.

Your hands move instinctively to the lapels of his blazer, undoing the button as your lips move against his. His chest is warm under your fingers, when you spread your hand across his skin, Heeseung groans into your mouth, the sound low and desperate.

The kiss deepens, growing more intense with each passing second. His hands grip your hips tighter as you press yourself against him.

Your lips leave his trailing a line of kisses down his jaw and to his neck. Heeseung tilts his head back giving you more access and the soft moans you draw from him send a thrill down your spine. His hands move instinctively, pushing your hips down against him and you feel him, hard beneath you.

“Heeseung…” His name slips from your lips, barely above a whisper and he pulls you back up to capture your mouth again.

The kiss is messy now, all-consuming and when your fingers slide back to his blazer, starting to tug it off, heeseung suddenly stiffens beneath you.

He pulls back, his breath ragged as he grabs your wrists gently to stop you. “Wait.”

You blink at him, confusion and embarrassment flooding your chest as reality crashes back in. Your mind races and suddenly the weight of what you’ve done settles.

“Oh my Gosh.” You scramble off his lap, your hands shaking as you try to smooth your dress. “I—I’m so sorry. I—”

“Wait, where are you going?” Heeseung reaches for you, his hand wrapping around your wrist to keep you from bolting.

Your voice trembles. “I’m so sorry. That was inappropriate. It shouldn’t have happened—”

Heeseung cuts you off. “I wanted it to happen.”

His words stop you in your tracks, and you stare at him, wide-eyed. “What?”

“I wanted it to happen,” he repeats, his voice softer now but no less sincere. “I’ve wanted it to happen for a while.”

Your heart pounds in your chest, but the confusion lingers. “But… you stopped me.”

Heeseung lets out a heavy sigh, running a hand through his hair. “Because you’re borderline drunk. I’m not going to let this go any further if you’re not sober.”

His words hit you like a bucket of cold water. You shake your head, trying to piece everything together. “But still, you’re engaged, Heeseung. I’m counseling you to be a better husband. This—this is wrong. I’m…” Your voice cracks, and you struggle to say the words. “I’m practically my dad.”

“No.” His voice is sharp, almost harsh, as he stands and steps closer to you. “You’re nothing like your dad. Don’t ever say that again.”

You look up at him, tears stinging your eyes. “But it’s true. I’m no better than him. You’re engaged, and I…”

Heeseung shakes his head adamantly. “But Sakura and I aren’t a real couple!”

“That-” Your voice is barely above a whisper and you’re unable to continue your sentence, Heeseung's voice overpowering your own.

“It’s just for appearances,” he groans, his voice heavy with frustration. “For my parents. For the company.” He defends.

“But you’re still getting married,” you say, your voice trembling. “It doesn’t matter if it’s for appearances or not. It’s still wrong.”

Heeseung reaches out cupping your face gently. “Listen to me. You are not your dad. You’re nothing like him. Don’t let yourself think that for a second.” His thumbs brush away the tears that have started to fall down your cheeks.

You shake your head, stepping back and pulling out of his grasp. “I—I should leave.”

“No.” Heeseung moves quickly, grabbing your hand and pulling you close again. “You’re in no state to be alone right now. Just…stay here tonight.”

You want to argue, but the exhaustion and the emotions are too much. Deep down, you know he’s right. And selfishly, a part of you wants to stay—to savor these last moments with him, even if it’s wrong.

Heeseung doesn’t give you a chance to protest further. He bends slightly, picking you up in his arms with ease.

“What are you doing?” you ask softly.

“Making sure you’re okay,” he says simply, carrying you upstairs to his bedroom.

The space is massive, just like his living room. A large bed with crisp white linens sits in the middle of the room and the faint scent of his cologne lingers in the air.

Heeseung sets you down gently on the edge of the bed, crouching in front of you. His eyes search yours and for a moment, neither of you speaks.

“Stay here,” he says softly, standing and disappearing into the ensuite bathroom.

When he returns, he’s holding a pack of makeup wipes. He kneels in front of you again carefully taking one out and holding it up. “Can I?”

You nod, too overwhelmed to speak. Heeseung gently wipes away your makeup, his touch tender and patient.

Once he’s finished, he stands and heads to his closet, returning with a pair of sweats and a T-shirt. “Here,” he says, handing them to you. “They’ll be more comfortable than your dress.”

“Thank you,” you whisper while taking the clothes.

“I’ll be down the hall if you need anything,” he says.

You nod, watching as he leaves the room and closes the door behind him.

When you’re alone you change into his clothes, the fabric soft and smelling faintly of him. You slip under the covers.

The scent of him surrounds you and it’s too much. The tears come before you can stop them and you bury your face in the pillow sobbing quietly.

You cry for everything—for the lines you’ve crossed, for the feelings you can’t deny and for the knowledge that this can’t continue.

Eventually exhaustion takes over you and you fall into a restless sleep.

#fic: temptation

212 notes · View notes

gyutopia · 20 days ago

Note

The way my heart dropped with Temptation. Lord, you kept me on the very edge and I'm genuinely impressed by your impressive storytelling. The characters were fleshed out perfectly and dialogues feel natural. Loved it.

BUT IS THIS HOW IT ENDS?!

thank you!! it was so hard trying to develop the characters!! i changed the plot like five times while writing bc of it hehe

fear not! i’m considering writing another part and introducing a mini event where you can ask the characters any question you’d like while i contemplate what would be in the next part (given i do go through with writing it!)

#💌 you got mail!#fic: temptation

0 notes

gyutopia · 20 days ago

Note

the ending was a let down, ngl:///

ahh i’m sorry!!

it seems a lot of you aren’t happy that’s how it ended 😅

i regret trying to make it a one shot,,,i didn’t realize until halfway through that it would have been better as a mini series so i could develop it a bit more :(

i was tired after writing 40k words and thought it should be good enough. slowly considering writing another part

#💌 you got mail!#fic: temptation

1 note · View note

gyutopia · 20 days ago

Note

HI I JUST FINISHED UR FIC TEMPTATION. GOD ALL OF IT WAS SO GOOD BUT THEN THE ENDING?? CHISA QUEEN WHYY 😔 but it was still beautifully written and my experience reading it was so fun <3 :D

thank you!! 🤭

chisa was livid ! but i’d say for valid reason given she doesn’t know the whole truth

#💌 you got mail!#fic: temptation

1 note · View note

gyutopia · 20 days ago

Text

took the day off from tumblr to play sims hehe finally reading the comments and asks about temptation! :)

#fic: temptation #i see a lot of u want a pt 3 hehe

1 note · View note

gyutopia · 22 days ago