resveriealm

[resveriealm]

Lost, Found, and You — Lee Jihoon

Pairing: Lee Jihoon x Fem!

Genre: Semi-angst, Fluff

Word count: 485 words

It’s been a year since you and Jihoon parted ways. Long-distance had always been a fragile thread, and Jihoon’s struggle to express his emotions through text only made it more fragile. Each message from him felt like a half-finished symphony, leaving you to imagine the missing tones. Eventually, the weight of the silence became unbearable, and when it all came crashing down, he didn't even try to stop you from leaving. He let you slip away as effortlessly as he had once captured your heart.

Now, clutching your diploma, you navigate the sea of bodies at the graduation ceremony. The crowd presses in, an overwhelming tide you're desperate to escape. But just as the edges of panic creep in, your gaze lands on a familiar figure. Standing still amidst the chaos, he holds a bouquet of red roses—your favorite, or maybe his?

It’s Jihoon.

He always associated you with red—the red shoes you wore on your first date, the rosy cheeks when he kissed you, the swollen redness of your lips after his touch. Red wasn’t just a color to him—it was you. And as you look at him now, it’s clear: he still loves you.

The moment your eyes lock, the world comes to a halt. The noise, the crowd, everything fades into silence. Only he remains, and your heart betrays you, hammering in your chest as anger, longing, and heartbreak collide. You freeze, unable to take another step forward.

But Jihoon moves. Slowly, purposefully, he closes the distance between you. When he stops in front of you, the emotions you’ve buried for so long break free. Tears stream down your face, and before you know it, your fists hit his chest—each strike fueled by everything you’ve carried inside.

And Jihoon? He doesn’t move. He doesn’t flinch or protest. He stands there, unyielding, letting you feel every ounce of your pain. When your strength falters, he pulls you into his arms, holding you tightly. His embrace is warm and steady, like a shield against the storm inside you, and yet it’s bittersweet—a reminder of all you’ve lost.

The tears shift into sobs tinged with betrayal. Why didn’t he fight for you? Why did he let you go so easily? The anger burns, but beneath it lies a deeper ache—one you’ve tried to ignore. Despite everything, his arms still feel like the only place you truly belong.

He strokes your back gently, his voice breaking the silence. “I’m sorry,” he whispers, the words trembling with regret. “I should never have let you go.”

And just like that, the wall around your heart crumbles. You bury your face in his chest, letting his steady heartbeat calm your own. For the first time in a year, you allow yourself to feel it all—the pain, the love, and the fragile hope that maybe, just maybe, it isn’t too late.

[resveriealm]

Echoes of Us — Lee Jihoon

Pairing: Lee Jihoon x Fem!

Genre: Fluff, Semi-angst

Word count: 745 words

It’s one of those days. Jihoon had just wrapped up producing another song for their album. But instead of heading to his own apartment, his feet carried him to yours. Perhaps it was because your place was closer—only 500 meters away—or maybe, just maybe, it was because he wanted to see you as soon as possible. It had become a habit of his ever since you moved closer, a habit you had subtly encouraged. After all, you always tried to make everything easier for him. You preferred the echoes of him to the stillness of being alone.

When you find him sprawled on your couch, fast asleep without a blanket, you sigh softly. Too lazy to make it to the guest room, he’d simply dropped onto couch.

Smiling, you drape a blanket over him, and he's wriggling under the warmth. His voice, slightly deeper than usual, escapes him: “Good morning.” His eyes remain shut, but the warmth in his tone lingers like the echo of a song.

You chuckle, “Good morning to you too. When did you get here? I didn’t hear anything.”

“At dawn,” he murmurs. “Too lazy to make it to the guest room. Couch it is.”

You shake your head, “Just sleep in the room now, Ji, I’ll make breakfast. Eat it when you’re up.”

“There’s no one like you,” he says simply, the weight of his words sinking into the quiet air.

And he’s right. There is no one like you. Who else would go to such lengths for a best friend? No one, really.

By the time you finish cooking, the smell of breakfast spreads throughout the apartment like a warm invitation, and Jihoon stirs awake. He shuffles to the dining table and sits with you, his presence filling the space in a way no one else’s could.

“I bet you haven’t been eating properly,” you say.

“No one cooks like you,” he replies easily, a faint smile on his lips. “That’s why I haven’t been eating properly.”

It might just be a passing comment for him. But for you? It’s something to hold on to, a fleeting moment of significance. Jihoon always eats heartily, which is why you’ve made a habit of cooking for four whenever he’s around. He finishes it all, every time, and that simple act makes you love him even more.

When he’s done, he blocks your way to the sink, insisting, as always, that washing the dishes is his job. It’s also his job to make you a warm mug of chocolate milk, your favorite. The routine feels so natural, so easy, that catching up with him while cradling the mug in your hands seems more than enough.

And yet, you can’t stop wondering what it would feel like to brush your fingers against his as you talk, to cradle his face in your hands and feel the warmth of his cheek against your palm. To know, even for a fleeting moment, what it’s like to close the gap between the two of you. But you don’t.

Instead, you let out a soft laugh and tell him about the cute guy who’s been flirting with you now and then. You make sure to frame it lightly, almost teasingly, but your words are carefully chosen: he’s trying, but he can’t get in—because the one holding the key is sitting right here. You watch Jihoon’s face for a reaction, for the flicker of something you’ve been searching for. But it’s like looking for a needle in a haystack—his nonchalant expression offers nothing but reflections of your own uncertainty.

“Are you even ready to date, though?” he asks, his tone as casual as ever. “As far as I know, none of your relationships have lasted more than six months.”

And whose fault is that, Jihoon? You don’t say it aloud, but the thought burns in your chest. You could blame yourself, but the truth is etched in every heartbeat that skips for him. Every time he needs you, every time he shows up unannounced, you drop everything—and everyone—just to be there.

“Maybe,” you reply with a shrug, trying to match his easy tone. “I don’t know. It’s not like I can date you, either.”

There it is. A bombshell wrapped in the guise of casual banter. You’ve planted it, and now you wait, holding your breath for the fallout. This moment will be your reality check: is he just a best friend, or could he ever be something more?