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biiiiish ngl, I usually don't comment or send messages to writes but GODDAMN if HBH didn't pull on my hearts strings. The way I didn't sleep two night in a row because of how invested i was on the stories. u truly have a way of stringing together the plot, describing the emotions of the characters and making them just humans, with all their highs and lows. the vernon chapter had me going thru it, my heart was so unsettled... it's been a while since a fanfics has done that. and overall ur writing is amazing, from the plot to the grammar. I just felt it was necessary to let u know.
(btw if u ever consider taking writing seriouslyseriously all say go ahead, if stuff like after can became a best seller then the world is ur oyster, u got the talent to do so)
love and admiration -💕
Aww you're so nice. Thank you! Although I'm only writing for fun, I like to give it my best and deliver a fic that is good or at least exceeds expectations. And I said it before, but I really really like to make everything as realistic as possible. Except for the parts where I can't 😅 Anyway, thank you again!!! It's such a pleasure seeing all these kind praises.
#would definitely take writing seriously in the future#the after comment surprised me tho ngl#i too couldn't finish it LMAO
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THANKS FOR THE LOVE :> this was my first fic series and I had lots of anxiety about it. i like to keep things realistic in my works because, as a reader, I tend to gravitate toward realistic romance novels that can actually happen irl. also because being with our idols irl is already unrealistic as it is soooo... yeah :>
AGAIN, thanks for this. It means a loooot to me :>
Plot Twist | c.sc (18+)
A chance encounter blossoms into a whirlwind romance when you become enchanted by the enigmatic stranger—Choi Seungcheol. As you spend more time together, one question lingers: could he be the unexpected plot twist that changes your story forever?
one | two | three | four | five
Genre: strangers to lovers, smut Pairing: Choi Seungcheol/Scoups x afab!Reader Warnings: mature themes, explicit sexual content (18+) Notes: 24k words. Last part of the Heartbreak Hotel series, but it can be read as a standalone fic. Listening to Plot Twist by NIKI. Finally down to that last part! I loved working on this fic. Kinda sad now that it is over. Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. I do not know them personally and do not claim they would ever behave like they were portrayed in this story.
Playlist: Plot Twist by NIKI, Nobody Gets Me by SZA, long story short by Taylor Swift
When Choi Seungcheol first arrived at the hotel, you pegged him as just another rich man passing through—the noble charisma he was exuding made that clear. But unlike most guests, he hadn’t just come to book a room. He had asked for something far more unusual—stories about your past relationships.
At first, you thought he might be a writer, searching for inspiration for his next novel. But then he handed you his card and, no, he wasn’t a writer. He was a young CEO of a holding company. That alone was impressive, but his request? Odd, to say the least.
Then again, what did you have to lose? All you had to do was share a few stories from your past and pocket the fee he offered. You could even make up the most dramatic story ever and he’d probably bite. Yet you found yourself being completely honest, revealing parts of your life you hadn’t thought about in years.
You told him about your first real heartbreak with a guy who wasn’t even your official boyfriend. You spoke about an unforgettable relationship you had with the most breathtaking man you’d ever known. And you relived the time when your own insecurities ruined what was beautiful and perfect.
“I actually skipped the depression part of my breakup with Mingyu,” you confessed, rolling your eyes at your own expense. “It was kinda embarrassing telling a stranger all that. But I had a feeling you could see through me.”
“Not really, but I figured,” he shrugged, sipping his drink. There was a knowing look on his face—one that he didn’t bother to hide. “And honestly, I didn’t mind. I was a stranger after all. I was surprised you told me anything at all.”
You chuckled, shaking your head. “Yeah, well, I guess I needed to talk about that stuff more than I thought.”
“So,” he said, leaning forward with genuine curiosity, “is there anyone else?”
You paused. “That’s it. That’s all of them.”
He raised an eyebrow. “You never dated much, huh?”
“No, not really,” you said, laughing. “There are others but it's not worth telling. They were either so-so, just passing through, or, you know... toxic.”
“Hmm. I see.” Seungcheol reached into his jacket and pulled out his wallet. He slid out two checks, handing them to you. You took it and your eyes widened slightly at the numbers on them.
“This is... a lot,” you stammered. “Surely, my stories aren’t worth this much.”
He met your gaze, his expression unreadable. “I disagree. But if you think so…” He nodded at the checks still in your hand. “Consider it a tip for your—remarkable—room service.”
You couldn’t help but laugh. “Except, we didn’t even have it in the room, did we?”
“We could have,” he said smoothly. “But you weren’t interested in seeing my room.”
You raised an eyebrow, intrigued by his shift in tone. “Is that your way of inviting me to your room, Mr. Choi?”
He tilted his head slightly, a hint of a smirk tugging at his lips. “No. But now that you mention it... maybe it is.”
You hummed, biting your lower lip. “And here I thought you’d be the assertive type.”
“Well, I was raised to have manners, but if you’re into assertive men then.” Seungcheol’s demeanor shifted in an instant. His eyes, once playful, turned sharp, commanding. “Come join me in my room.”
Your heart skipped a beat. And the way he said it made your skin tingle. You swallowed, trying to keep your voice steady. “Okay.”
Seungcheol’s suite was spacious and immaculately tidy. Though the interior resembled every other suite in the hotel—neutral tones, minimalist decor—you couldn’t stop your eyes from looking around the space he’d been staying at for the past two days. Sure enough, there were almost no signs of him anywhere—not a stray jacket, a personal belonging—nothing that would give you the slightest clue about who he was or what kind of life he led outside this hotel.
“More champagne?” Seungcheol offered, motioning to the bottle of champagne sitting on a bucket of ice. He didn’t wait for you to respond, reaching for it and pouring some of the sparkling liquid into the glass. The soft clink of the bottle against the flute felt almost loud in the otherwise quiet room.
“Thanks,” you said softly, taking the glass he handed you as you sat down.
You didn’t need more champagne, not really. But the cool bubbles offered a welcome distraction. Anything to give your hands something to do, and your mind something to focus on other than the thick tension swirling between you both.
You took a slow sip, eyes flitting to the abstract painting on the wall—blotches of color, indistinct shapes that blurred the longer you stared. But no matter how much you tried to focus on the artwork, you could still feel Seungcheol’s gaze on you.
He’s the one who asked me to come here, you thought, fingers tracing the rim of your glass. He should say something.
You didn’t know exactly what you were expecting when you agreed to join him in his room—but you do know that the conversation part was over. There was nothing left to talk about, this time right now was not for talking. You couldn’t trust yourself to look at him, afraid that meeting his gaze would confirm what you already knew—the desire building between you both, the unspoken question lingering in the air.
Seungcheol shifted on the couch across from you, the sound of fabric brushing against leather making your heart race. You wanted to ask him what he was thinking, but the words got stuck in your throat. Instead, you took another sip of champagne, more to keep your hands occupied than anything else.
It felt like an eternity passed before his voice finally broke through the tension.
“Come here,” he said, low and commanding, his tone sending a ripple of warmth down your spine.
“Yes,” you blurted out, standing up almost too quickly because your body was responding before your mind could catch up. You crossed the space between you in seconds, your heart racing in your chest, as though you had been waiting for that very invitation all along.
Seungcheol’s eyes were dark as he tugged lightly at your hand, pulling you down onto his lap. Your legs straddled his, your arms instinctively wrapping around his neck. And as you stared into his eyes, a mutual understanding passed between you without having to say a single word.
With one hand, he cupped the back of your head, drawing you in until his lips met yours. His lips were warm and firm, and the moment they touched yours, everything inside you unraveled. The knot of tension that had been coiled in your stomach loosened, sending heat through your entire body as his hand traveled down your back.
But just as quickly, you pulled away, breathless. “I—uh… I think we’re moving too fast,” you muttered, trying to collect your thoughts.
Seungcheol nodded. “Yeah, too fast,” he said, though his eyes remained fixed on your lips.
For a moment, the two of you sat in silence, the tension between you crackling like electricity. Then, without thinking, you leaned in again, your lips meeting his with more urgency this time, more need. The kiss was hungrier now, both of you pushing against the boundary you had just set, as though the pull between you was impossible to resist.
His hands found your waist, fingers curling into your skin as he pulled you closer, his body pressing against yours. But again, the rational part of your mind kicked in, and you broke away, laughing breathlessly.
“Definitely too fast,” you whispered, though you made no effort to move away.
“Definitely,” Seungcheol agreed, his voice low, amusement flickering in his eyes as he kept his hands on your waist.
And yet, before you could stop yourself, your lips were on his again, the heat between you too consuming to fight. This time, neither of you pulled away. You let the moment stretch out, giving in to the pull as words fell away and your bodies did all the talking.
You were back at your usual spot at the front desk the next day, almost as if everything was completely normal, as though nothing of note had happened the night before. It didn’t help that the hotel was quiet with barely any people coming in, so your mind kept slipping back to Seungcheol. His intense kisses, his tender touches, the rush of heat that coursed through your veins, the ecstatic high—all of it was still fresh, vivid as if it had left a permanent mark on you. You caught yourself smiling for no reason, or at least, no reason that anyone here could understand.
“Are you alright?” Elena asked as she passed the front desk, her sharp gaze narrowing when she saw your flustered expression.
“Huh? I’m fine. What’s up?” you responded, hoping you didn’t sound too defensive.
“You’re flushed,” she noted with a raised eyebrow. “You look like you’re coming down with something,” she added, giving you a suspicious glance before walking off.
You touched your face, realizing with a start that your cheeks were warm—whether from embarrassment or the memories swirling in your head, you couldn’t tell. Pulling out your phone, you opened the camera app to check your reflection, only to be greeted with a slight flush coloring your skin. You stared at your reflection for a moment, wondering how much of last night’s excitement was still etched into your features.
Before you could think too much about it, the telephone rang, snapping you back to reality.
“This is the front desk. How may I help you?”
“Hi,” Seungcheol’s deep voice resonated from the other line, causing your heart to skip a beat. “Could you send housekeeping up? This suite is in dire need of tidying.”
His tone was casual, but there was a hint of mischief in it that made your stomach twist pleasantly. You knew exactly what he was implying. The memory of last night’s aftermath flashed through your mind—as if you hadn’t already been thinking about it all day.
You cleared your throat, trying to maintain a professional tone. “Absolutely. Housekeeping will be there shortly. Is there anything else, Mr. Choi?”
There was a brief pause on his end before his voice dropped a little lower. “Is it too early to request room service?”
Your heartbeat hastened, knowing full well that he wasn’t just talking about food. You could almost picture the smirk he must have had on his face, enjoying how easily he could fluster you.
“Have a good day, sir,” you replied, brushing him off in the most polite way possible before hanging up the phone.
You were still grinning to yourself when the phone rang again. Glancing at the telephone, you didn’t even have to guess who it was. You picked up the receiver.
“This is the front desk. How may I help you?” You kept your tone as professional as possible, but the smile was hard to hide.
“I know you’re thinking about me,” came Seungcheol’s teasing voice, playful and smooth.
Your breath hitched as you tried to suppress a laugh. “Whatever are you talking about, Mr. Choi? It’s inappropriate to speak to staff this way during work hours,” you chided playfully.
“You’re right. I forgot my manners for a second,” he replied, the humor in his voice evident. “I just woke up and I am starving, so I was thinking of actually ordering room service.”
“You just woke up?”
“Yeah. Alone, but somehow, I had a feeling someone was here with me but they sneaked out came morning light,” he replied, still teasing.
You raised an eyebrow, enjoying the playful banter. “Maybe because they have a job and said job requires them to wake up and get ready by eight in the morning?”
“I figured. Still, it would’ve been nice to get a proper goodbye.”
“Didn’t wanna disturb you,” you replied in a low voice, your index finger drawing circles on the desk in front of you. “Anyway, work hours,” you said, more to yourself than to him.
You tried to get back into professional mode. “Why don’t you just eat in the restaurant? It’s much more comfortable down there—and you won’t be in the way of housekeeping.”
There was a brief pause, and then he chuckled softly. “Are you allowed to tell guests what to do?”
You laughed, shaking your head at the playfulness in his tone. “No, technically not. We’re supposed to cater to their every need, but since I know you, I’ll take my chances and tell you what to do.”
“Oh, so we’re at that level now?” he teased. “You think you can boss me around now?”
“Only because I know you’ll listen,” you shot back, unable to resist the smile tugging at your lips. “I’ve got a good read on you, Mr. Choi.”
“I don’t know about that,” Seungcheol hummed, amusement thick in his voice. “Maybe I’ll just stay up here and starve, wait for housekeeping to finish.”
“Or you could go downstairs and eat like a normal person,” you retorted. “How about that instead?”
He chuckled again, and you could almost hear the smile in his voice. “Alright, alright. I’ll head down.”
“Good. I’ll have the restaurant expect you,” you replied, feeling satisfied.
“Mm-hm. But don’t think this means I’m done with you for the day,” he added, his tone lower, more suggestive. “We’ll pick this up later.”
Your heart skipped a beat at the promise in his voice, but you managed to keep your composure. “I’ll take you up on that. Enjoy your meal, Mr. Choi.”
“Thank you,” he said before hanging up, leaving you grinning like a fool at the front desk.
The day had dragged on slower than usual. Being in a remote area meant there weren’t many guests, so it was quiet—almost too quiet. After taking care of a handful of check-ins in the morning, you spent the afternoon fielding calls, helping with some basic concierge tasks, and trying not to think about the previous night with Seungcheol. It was hard to concentrate with his voice still ringing in your ears from the teasing call earlier, and the stillness of the hotel only amplified your wandering thoughts.
As the evening rolled around, you were grateful to finally be clocking out. You grabbed your things and made your way out of the front desk, ready to head out when a familiar figure appeared from the corner of your eye.
Seungcheol stood there, casual yet polished as ever, with his hands tucked into his pockets. His presence was magnetic, and you could feel your coworkers’ eyes darting toward him and then back to you in curiosity.
“Going somewhere?” Seungcheol asked smoothly, his smile playful as he leaned casually against the counter.
“Just clocking out,” you replied, trying to sound composed despite the flutter in your chest.
“Well, since you're off the clock… how about you join me for dinner?” His invitation was simple, but the implication made your pulse quicken.
You hesitated for a moment, feeling the intrigued stares of your coworkers lingering on the both of you. But the thought of spending another evening in his company was too tempting to resist.
“Sure,” you said, keeping your tone light, though your heart was racing. “But first, I need to change.”
“Alright,” he chimed, blinking slowly. “You can take your time. I’ll wait for you at the restaurant.”
As you made your way toward the employee exit, you passed the kitchen, where Leo, one of the chefs, caught sight of you. His grin was playful as he leaned on the doorframe.
“Somebody’s got a boyfriend,” Leo asked with a teasing lilt, wiggling his eyebrows. “After all this time, and after all the guests who tried to sweep you off your feet, someone has finally tickled your fancy huh?”
Drea, another kitchen staff, appeared beside him. “Looks like it. They’d been hanging out all weekend.”
You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the smile tugging at your lips. “I’m just making a friend, guys. There’s no need to be all giddy about it.”
“Sure, sure,” Leo chuckled as he turned back to the stove. “Make as many ‘friends’ as you want.”
Drea fell into step with you as you walked toward the exit, lowering her voice to a whisper. “So… I guess your ‘friend’ let you crash at his place last night, huh?”
You blinked in surprise. “What? What are you talking about?”
She giggled softly. “I saw you sneaking back into your quarters at the crack of dawn, sugar.”
You grinned, waving her off with a laugh and gesturing for her to keep it down. Drea mimed zipping her lips before heading back to her tasks, letting you continue on your way in peace.
The restaurant had a cozy ambiance, with warm lighting and soft music playing in the background. As you settled into your seat across from Seungcheol, the enticing aroma of food filled the air, making your stomach growl.
“What’s the best thing you’ve ever eaten here?” Seungcheol asked, leaning back in his chair as he scanned the menu.
“Honestly, I’m not sure,” you replied, running your finger along the edge of the menu. “I don’t eat here unless I can’t help it.”
His eyes sparkled with mischief. “So, I’m your first real dinner date at this place? How flattered am I?”
“Don’t get ahead of yourself,” you laughed lightly, but your heart raced at the playful glint in his gaze. “It’s just dinner.”
“Last night begs to differ,” he commented, making you gasp audibly.
Before you could say anything, Seungcheol gestured for the waiter who approached immediately. You ordered a rich pasta dish while Seungcheol opted for the steak.
“Am I making you uncomfortable?” he asked after the waiter left.
You shook your head. “No, not at all. I’m just not the type to openly talk about… you know, my activities in the bedroom.”
“Alright. I’ll keep that in mind,” he said, smiling as he watched you curiously. “What do you usually do when you’re off the clock?”
You shrugged, feeling a twinge of embarrassment. “Not much. Just… binge-watch shows or read.”
Seungcheol chuckled. “A woman of refined tastes, I see.”
“Hey, everyone needs a little escapism,” you shot back, your cheeks warming. “What about you, Mr. CEO? What keeps you busy?”
His expression shifted slightly, the playful facade dropping just a notch. “Well, I run a holding company that invests in other businesses.”
You leaned in, intrigued. “That sounds interesting. What does that involve exactly?”
Seungcheol took a sip of his drink before answering. “We invest in companies we think have potential and help them grow. Sometimes we acquire them and either hand them over to other people to manage or strip them down for parts.”
“Sounds awful for the owners,” you remarked, unable to hide the frown forming on your lips. The thought of someone losing their livelihood sent a chill through you.
Seungcheol shrugged, his expression neutral. “That’s just the way it is. We usually only acquire companies on the brink of bankruptcy. It’s better than losing everything, right?”
“What do you even gain from a failing company?” you asked, tilting your head in confusion. The whole business seemed ruthless, a world away from your warm hotel lobby.
Seungcheol chuckled, a hint of challenge in his eyes. “Are you seriously enjoying this conversation?”
“Not really,” you admitted with a laugh. “But there’s nothing else to discuss.”
“Then let’s talk about you,” he said, leaning closer, his eyes searching yours. “Why are you still in hospitality?”
You felt your defenses rise. “Hey, that’s straight-up prying into someone’s personal business.”
“Weren’t you prying into mine just now?” he challenged, crossing his arms.
“Not the same! I was asking about how you make money; you’re asking about my life choices,” you shot back with a pout.
“I can see why you wanted to be a journalist,” he said, his voice softer now.
“What? How?” you asked, genuinely surprised.
“I just know,” he replied, an enigmatic smile on his face.
“Okay, Mr. Can See Through Me,” you laughed, but deep down, you wondered how much he could actually see—and if it was more than you intended to show.
After what happened with Seungcheol, you figured you’d be back in his suite once or twice more while he stayed in the hotel. When you think about it, like really think about it, it felt strange to hook up with a guest you’d known for only three days. But it didn’t bother you as much as you expected. Maybe because you’d already shared so much with him; intimate stories and personal memories that left you feeling vulnerable, strong, even a bit broken. Somehow, being with him physically felt minor compared to the depth of everything you’d revealed.
That said, you weren’t expecting to just keep sleeping with him the whole time. No. He was amazing—that was an understatement. And it wasn’t just because you hadn’t had any action in months; it was simply the truth. But Seungcheol didn’t seem like the type to put physical needs before familiarity.
“Good night, then,” he said, smiling as you both lingered in the hallway between the elevator and the employee exit.
“Good night, Mr. Choi,” you smiled back, trying to keep it light. “Thanks for dinner.”
“No problem. I had a great time,” he replied, closing the distance to place a gentle kiss on your cheek. In your ear, he whispered, “And please, just Seungcheol.”
“Sorry, I keep forgetting that,” you chuckled softly. For a moment, you stood there, eyes holding each other’s, as if something else was left unsaid. You weren’t sure what exactly, but you could tell he felt it too.
“Go on, then,” you prompted, nodding toward the elevator.
“No. You can go first. Don’t worry about me.”
You shrugged, reluctant but trying not to show it. “Alright. See you next time.”
“Tomorrow,” he corrected with a grin. “Hope you’re not sick of me yet.”
You laughed. “Not yet, but we’re getting there,” you teased. Leaning forward, you brushed a quick kiss over his lips.
Seungcheol’s hands settled on your waist just as you started to pull away, his eyes searching yours. You grinned, tapping his arms twice to signal he should let go.
“Would you like to—”
“No, thank you,” you interrupted a bit too quickly. His face fell, and seeing it made you laugh. “I would’ve if you’d asked earlier.”
He sighed, shaking his head with a small smile tugging at his lips. “Didn’t want to overstep.”
“I know. And I appreciate that.” You walked toward your exit, giving him another smile before pushing the door open. “Good night, then.”
“Good night,” he replied with a small wave.
The next day, the morning felt lighter somehow. You went to work in high spirits, smiling at coworkers more than usual, even humming a song to yourself while you were sitting at the quiet front desk, scanning the deserted lobby.
You caught sight of Seungcheol a few times throughout your shift. Once in the lobby, sitting by the window with his laptop and a coffee, his expression focused and distant; and later, he walked by while in a quiet exchange with someone on the phone.
In those moments, he was just like any other guest, a charming yet distant stranger. Yet every time he passed by the front desk, his eyes would flicker up, a sweet smile plastered on his lips.
At the end of your shift, you found him waiting in the lobby, leaning against the marble pillar with his hands tucked into his pockets. “Dinner?” he asked, his tone casual yet warm.
“Sure,” you replied, smiling. “Give me a few minutes?”
“Take your time. I’ll wait for you in the restaurant,” he said easily.
“Alright then.”
You and Seungcheol got to know each other more this way. During work hours, he didn’t cross any lines, and neither did you. It was almost like an unspoken rule between you—when you were on the clock, you were strictly concierge and guest.
But in the evenings, he would swing by the front desk, waiting for you to clock out to invite you to dinner. Dinner became a quiet ritual for the two of you, a rhythm that felt almost natural despite how suddenly it had started. On the second evening, Seungcheol had ordered in from a local restaurant he claimed had the best ramen in the area. You laughed when you saw the spread of takeout boxes arranged across his room’s coffee table, a bottle of wine between them.
“Who told you this place had the…” you made air quotes, “ ‘best ramen’ around here?”
“Uh…” He narrowed his eyes, thinking as he uncorked the wine. “The internet?” he said, just as the bottle popped open.
“The internet? Right,” you teased, sinking into the armchair across from him. “Do you always look up best ramen places online?”
“Not usually,” he admitted, handing you a glass of wine. “But I was craving something more familiar than steak and pasta.”
The rich, savory aroma of the ramen mingled with the scent of the wine, filling the room with a cozy warmth. You clinked glasses and sipped quietly, the casual laughter and teasing slipping in like it was second nature. Between bites, he asked about the town, and you shared stories—of slow nights at the hotel, odd guests, and a few personal memories you hadn’t thought about in a while.
The conversation flowed easily, often sidetracking into random topics that carried you late into the night. He asked you about more stories from your past, not always about relationships—just small things, places you’d always wanted to see, anecdotes from college, or dreams you’d put on hold.
At some point, you found yourself telling him about your old plan to be a journalist, how you’d gone through a whole phase of pitching stories to magazines, only to give it up when you didn’t hear back from any of them.
“You ever think about going back to it?” he asked, watching you with curiosity.
“Sometimes,” you admitted. “But I don’t know… it feels far-fetched now. I think I’ve lost the ‘spark’. Besides, this job is steady.”
“Steady is good, but there’s usually no progress in steady. No room for growth in a place that doesn’t challenge you.”
You glanced at him, surprised by his statement. He held your gaze and you could see the sincerity in his eyes that caught you off-guard. “I guess not,” you admitted softly.
He leaned back against the couch, his eyes holding yours. “How about doing what excites you? You know, taking risks and challenging yourself?”
You scoffed lightly, though his words hit a nerve. “Like running empires, taking over companies?” you quipped.
He raised a brow, his lips quirking into a playful smirk. “Something like that.”
And then the conversation turned light again. He kept surprising you in small ways. He’d remember details, ask questions that dug deeper than the usual surface-level chatter, and share a few of his own stories, mostly humorous or random, yet still holding a touch of mystery.
And after dinner, you put on a random TV show, but barely pay attention to it. His hand rested on your leg, and you could feel the warmth of his touch through your skin. At some point, he leaned in to kiss you, and the rest of the night became a blur of tangled sheets and stolen breaths.
It was unsettling how easy it felt, how natural it was to be with him. There was no awkwardness, no need for pretense. When you weren’t kissing, you were talking—about everything, really, but especially your dreams. Seungcheol kept pushing you, nudging you to think beyond the walls of the hotel.
“You’ve got something to say. And it’s about time you said it,” he’d told you once.
His belief in you always left you speechless for a moment. You didn’t need anyone to tell you that you were capable, but it felt good to be encouraged. Your friends and family, even Vernon, constantly encouraged you to pursue your passion. Only now were you realizing that you could have been unstoppable with their support if you weren’t so hung up on your own insecurities. You didn’t realize it then, but their belief in you was genuine, and they looked at you the same way Seungcheol did—as if they saw something in you that you hadn’t allowed yourself to see.
“You’re glowing these days,” one coworker had said, raising her eyebrows suggestively.
Drea couldn’t resist chiming in as you walked past the kitchen. “Dinner again tonight?” she asked, winking. “Must be some guest to get that kind of special treatment.”
You’d laughed it off, but there was a part of you that knew they weren’t entirely wrong. Something was shifting between you and Seungcheol—something that went beyond casual hangouts or even the growing physical intimacy. It was like you were slowly unraveling pieces of yourselves to each other, bit by bit, until there was nothing left to hide. He knew more about you, your past relationships, your fears, your dreams, than anyone else ever had.
And the pattern continued: dinner in his room, sometimes in the restaurant, laughter mixed with stolen kisses, and whispered conversations that lasted well into the night. The more time you spent together, the harder it became to ignore the growing connection between you.
And while the teasing at work stoked the fire, you brushed it off with a smile, trying not to think too hard about Seungcheol and everything that had happened between you. He was a guest, sooner or later, he’d go back where he belonged and he’d be nothing but a fever dream—someone who stirred up your usually mundane days in this hotel. It is best not to get too attached to someone who will eventually leave. Maybe you’d meet again, maybe not, but you’d remember the few days you spent with him—easily, no doubt because he was simply unforgettable.
You had just finished drying your hair when you heard soft knocks on your door. You glanced at the clock and frowned. No one ever came by this late. Opening the door a crack, you were met with the familiar grin of Seungcheol, leaning casually against the frame with that same mischievous glint in his eyes.
“What are you doing here?” you whispered, feeling both surprised and thrilled. “You’re not supposed to be here.”
He shrugged, a small, playful smile tugging at his lips. “Rules can’t be that strict if they let me get all the way up here.”
You couldn’t help but laugh, glancing behind him to make sure no one was around. “You’re lucky the night staff doesn’t usually do rounds here. Come in—before you get us both in trouble.”
As you closed the door behind him, he looked around with a curious gaze, hands in his pockets. The small, modest space suddenly felt even smaller with him there.
“So, this is where you retreat after charming all the guests in the lobby,” he mused, taking in the sparse decor and impersonal furnishings.
“I think this is like, three times smaller than your suite,” you quipped, feeling a little self-conscious.
“Yeah, but it’s much cozier,” he replied, flashing a warm smile.
His eyes softened as he looked around, and for a moment, you watched him walk around your space. Then your stomach growled—a loud, unmistakable sound in the silence. You both froze before dissolving into laughter.
“Hungry?” he asked, barely containing his amusement.
“Starving,” you admitted, covering your face with your hands. “I skipped dinner because you weren’t there to pick me up.”
“Seriously?” he scowled, concern evident in his voice.
You burst out laughing. “No, silly. I had dinner with some coworkers but I didn’t eat much.”
He nodded thoughtfully. “Oh, I thought you were serious. I was in a virtual meeting with some people earlier so I couldn’t treat you to dinner.”
“Hey, it’s totally fine,” you said briskly, shaking your hands. “You don’t have to explain yourself.”
“Alright but we should still do something about that,” he replied, pointing at your belly. “How about a late-night snack?”
“I could go for that,” you agreed, grinning. “But only if you’re okay with whatever random ingredients are lying around the hotel kitchen.”
A few minutes later, you led him into the quiet kitchen. Inside, the quiet hum of the fridge filled the room as you checked the shelves for ingredients available for employees. Seungcheol leaned on the counter, watching with amused fascination as you assembled a simple meal from what you could find.
“You know, I think you’re a little too comfortable in here,” he remarked, eyebrows raised as he watched you pull down a pan with a smirk.
You shrugged, turning on the stove and tossing some ingredients into the pan. “Just another perk of the job,” you replied lightly. “Besides, if anyone asks, I’ll say it’s for an important guest.” You gave him a wink.
He laughed, and as you stirred the ingredients together, he kept up a steady stream of questions about your work, your routines, and little quirks about the hotel you hadn’t realized you’d noticed. You could feel his gaze on you, warm and steady, and for a moment, you forgot about the quiet kitchen and the hotel entirely.
When the food was ready, you both sat down at the small table, sharing bites and laughter as though this were something you did every day. He listened closely, chiming in with his own stories, asking questions that went deeper than you’d expected. You found yourself opening up easily, letting him in on things you usually kept tucked away.
Once the plates were cleared, Seungcheol reached for the dishes. “I’ll take care of these,” he said, standing and moving to the sink before you could protest.
“Sure, but…” You trailed off, watching as he rolled his sleeves up to his elbows, muscles flexing in his forearms. You’d seen those arms several times before—even felt them holding you close—but somehow, it still left you speechless how effortlessly captivating he was.
A sudden urge to close the distance between you overcame you and it was too tempting to resist. So you did, slipping behind him and wrapping your arms around his waist. He chuckled as he rinsed the dishes with care.
“You’re not very good at standing idle, are you?” he murmured.
“Not when I have such a sexy man washing the dishes for me,” you replied, resting your head against his back. His back vibrated when he chuckled.
“Oh, is that so?” he asked, amused, just as he set the plates aside and peeled off his gloves. Turning to face you, he wrapped his arms around you, his eyes meeting yours. “You’re pretty sexy yourself. And your cooking’s top-notch,” he added, lifting your chin to give you a quick kiss.
“What can I say? I have many talents,” you teased.
Seungcheol pressed his thumb on your lower lip, staring at it with desire in his eyes. “About that sleeping quarter of yours,” he murmured, voice lowering. “Think you can keep it quiet in there?”
You bit your lip, shaking your head with a soft laugh. “Definitely not.”
He hummed thoughtfully. “We’d better not stay there then,” he said with an almost playful glint in his eyes. “Do you have work tomorrow?”
“My shift starts at noon,” you whispered.
“Good. You can sleep in,” he grinned before pulling you into a deep, feverish kiss.
Back in his suite, laughter turned into whispered words, and conversation faded into shared warmth. He watched as you moved to his bed, peeling away your clothes one by one before sprawling across the bed, hair fanned out against the pillows, a mischievous gleam in your eyes. He stood there a minute, enjoying the view with half-lidded eyes.
“Are you just going to stand there?” you lilted, propping yourself on your elbows, watching his reactions as you spread your legs open for him. “Or do I need to invite you properly?”
Your confidence shot through the roof when you saw how he clenched his jaw and narrowed at the sight of you. He chuckled darkly, crossing the room with deliberate slowness, pausing at the edge of the bed. “Proper invitation, huh?” he murmured, leaning down, his face hovering just above yours. “Maybe I’m waiting for you to make the first move.”
“This is my first move,” you replied in a low voice, trying not to just go ahead and kiss him right there. You arched a brow, and with a grin, reached up, looping your arms around his neck to pull him down beside you.
Seungcheol closed the distance, capturing your lips in a torrid kiss. You swear you could feel the tension crackle in the air as he trailed a slow line of kisses from your jaw down to your collarbone, each one making your heartbeat quicken.
Your eyes met again, just as his hand cupped your naked sex, making you bite your lip. His laughter softened the intensity as he whispered, “How long can you stay up?”
You tutted, shaking your head playfully as you unbuttoned his shirt. “Don’t start making promises you can’t keep now.”
“You think I can’t keep it?” he challenged, putting pressure between your legs. Your body arched ever so slightly.
“How would I know if we’re just gonna keep talking like this?” you retorted, reaching down to grab the erection underneath his pants.
“Are you always this impatient?” he chuckled before leaning in to kiss you again.
You melted together, movements slow and gentle at first, then deepening as his hands roamed your body. He didn’t miss a spot, touching every crevice with his hands, kissing every sensitive spot, and sucking where he knew you’d love to be sucked.
He kept his promise—not a wink of sleep was had that night until dawn came through the windows. You’d given up at that point and just passed out next to him on the bed.
When you were trying to leave Seungcheol’s suite late the next morning, he had given you a soft kiss on the lips, bidding you goodbye but his arms were tight around your waist, unwilling to let go.
“You seriously need to let me go now,” you chided softly, though you weren’t making a move to leave either. “Elena’s gonna kill me.”
“Then she’d be in jail for murder. I’m sure she doesn’t want that,” he quipped, biting your earlobe softly.
You giggled, pushing his face away. “Stop. I’m serious. I have work to do.”
Seungcheol pouted his already pouty lips and gave you the saddest puppy face you’d ever seen from a man. He even tilted his head for a dramatic effect.
“Is that the best you can do?” you sneered, rolling your eyes. “It’s not working.”
His face softened back to his usual, easygoing look. “This is why you should leave this job.”
“No, this isn’t.”
“No, but this could be," he shot back.
You chuckled, letting him pull you back into his arms. You settled against him, knowing you really should go but letting yourself stay in that comfortable quiet until the very last possible second.
When you finally rushed out, you had to practically sprint to your quarters to shower and throw on your uniform. Even as you hurried to the lobby, Seungcheol’s words and the warmth of his last kiss lingered in the back of your mind.
You settled into your morning routine, shaking off the haze of the late night, but two hours into your shift, you caught sight of Seungcheol stepping out of the elevator hauling his luggage while looking as composed and put-together as ever. An unsettling sensation crept into your heart, causing it to beat rapidly in your chest.
“Leaving already?” you asked when he approached, struggling to keep your voice casual.
“Yeah,” he replied with a small smile. “Can’t avoid work forever.”
You nodded, trying to mask your disappointment. You’d known from the start that this was temporary, but the reality of him leaving still hit harder than you’d expected. “Well, I’m glad you stopped by to say goodbye,” you said, managing a small smile.
He tilted his head, gaze softening. “Doesn’t have to be goodbye, you know.”
“Huh?” You blinked, surprised. Seungcheol didn’t respond immediately. Instead, he pulled out his phone, tapped a few times, and a moment later, your own phone buzzed in your pocket. When you checked it, you saw a message from him. It was a link to a job posting.
“It’s a publishing company I’m investing in,” he explained. “They’re looking for new writers for their magazine,” he explained with a playful tilt to his tone. “I could make a call and help secure you a position there, but I don’t think you’d like that.”
You raised a brow jokingly. “Are you serious? I’d kill for an easy way in.”
“Really?” he asked, his eyebrows lifting slightly as if actually considering it.
“Of course not,” you laughed, shaking your head. “But… thank you. I’ll definitely check it out.”
“Good,” he said, slipping his hands into his pockets. “See you soon?”
You nodded, voice softening. “Maybe, if you ever find yourself back in town.”
“Or,” he countered, his smile widening, “if you find yourself in mine.”
You smirked, leaning in a little closer. “No promises, but I’ll keep you posted.”
“I’ll be waiting,” he murmured before pressing a lingering kiss to your lips, pulling back with a look you couldn’t quite read. “Take care, alright?”
“You too,” you whispered back. With a final glance, he picked up his bag and walked toward the doors. Watching him disappear, you glanced down at the job posting on your phone, your lips curving into a small smile.
The days that followed Seungcheol’s departure drifted by in a slow but steady routine. You returned to work, easing back into the usual rhythm of the hotel. Tasks that once kept you occupied now felt a little empty, missing the spark his presence brought. Although you kept in touch, neither of you could commit to a steady chat correspondence because you both had work to do.
The teasing began as soon as he left, of course. One morning in the break room, Drea and Clara from housekeeping cornered you with knowing smiles.
“So,” Drea began, leaning in with a smirk, “guess Mr. Loverboy had to hit the road?”
“Heartbroken already?” Clara teased, nudging you lightly.
Rolling your eyes, you tried to brush it off. “Please, I knew he was going to leave. He was here for business, not for… whatever you’re implying.”
“Uh-huh,” Drea said with a slow grin, “and all those late-night chats and ‘work dinners’ were totally normal, right?”
You felt the heat rising in your cheeks and huffed, trying to keep your cool. “Can we not do this right now?”
They both winced, and Drea placed a gentle hand on your shoulder. “Sorry, we’re just teasing. You looked a bit gloomy after he left.”
“I’m not. Maybe I’m just…” you trailed off, smiling sheepishly. “Maybe I’m just missing the ‘work dinners’, you know?”
They laughed, and you joined in, letting humor push away the gloom—even if only temporarily. As you returned to your duties, their words lingered, nudging a realization you’d been trying to ignore. Seungcheol had stirred something within you—a restlessness, a desire for something more than the steady routine you’d settled into at the hotel, this place far from home.
The days dragged and you buried yourself in mundane tasks. You updated records, tweaked guest files, and even took extra shifts, but the thoughts of what you wanted next kept creeping in. There were quiet moments when, mid-shift, you found yourself idly scrolling through the job posting he’d sent, rereading the requirements and trying to imagine what it would be like to actually take the leap.
In the quiet of your room, you’d take a pen and paper and scribble down short articles on random things: the day’s specials, trends in the hotel’s online promotions, even quirky stats like how many times housekeeping was called to the same suite. It was practice, a taste of what it might be like to write for real. The more you wrote, the stronger the pull grew to step beyond the winding roads of this small city.
Your coworkers noticed the change. Sometimes, they’d catch you smiling to yourself, drifting off mid-sentence, or jotting ideas on scrap paper between check-ins.
“You’ve got that ‘I’m making a big decision’ look,” teased Leo, always keen to know when something was brewing. “I’ve seen it a hundred times before. Spill it!”
You laughed, brushing it off at first, but as days went on, your secret plans came into focus. Each conversation—some encouraging, some bittersweet—helped you admit to yourself that maybe it was time to step forward. Even the strict, watchful General Manager Elena took notice.
One day, on an unsurprisingly slow afternoon, she called you into her office. When you entered, she had her glasses on, nose deep in some paperwork, but she looked up with a rare softness in her usually stern demeanor.
“I heard you’re considering leaving,” Elena said, getting straight to the point.
For a moment, you couldn’t find the right words. “Actually… yes. I’ve been thinking about it. There’s this job posting that might be… a better fit for what I want.”
She studied you, her expression unreadable. “That’s a shame,” she finally said. “You’re good at what you do here. But I understand. We all have paths we need to explore.”
It was strange hearing those words from Elena of all people—the one who seemed to keep everyone on a tight leash. You hadn’t expected her understanding, and her support only fueled your desire to follow through. Still, you didn’t make a decision right away. The idea had gotten so real, you could almost touch it, yet you kept putting it off.
“You’re still thinking about it?” Leo would ask, crossing his arms with a look that was half-concerned, half-excited.
“Yeah, but… it’s not easy to let go of something so familiar,” you’d admit, trying to make sense of it yourself.
Eventually, after more late nights of wondering and overthinking, you knew what you had to do. It took a deep breath and a lot of inner pep talks—you even came up with a small mantra for yourself—but you finally handed in your resignation to Elena. She accepted it with a knowing smile, and, much to your surprise, added, “You’ll be missed. We don’t get people like you often.”
They gave you a two-week transition period to train the new concierge. It was bittersweet, teaching someone else the ropes, walking them through routines and the hotel’s small quirks. You realized how much you’d grown attached to it all—the people, the quiet corners, the smell of fresh coffee in the lobby. Each day brought flashes of memory—Tony pulling you into yet another crazy story; Leo cooking up a storm during restocking season; late-night conversations with Drea; and the soft light filtering through the lobby as you’d start your early shifts. It was your life for the last seven months, and letting go felt like peeling away a part of yourself.
On your last day, you finished training your replacement and said your goodbyes, packing up the small personal items you’d kept at your station—a worn-out notebook, a stray earring you’d misplaced months ago, and a couple of pens. Standing at the door, you took a last, quiet look back at the lobby, thanking it silently for what it had given you. Then you stepped out of the hotel, feeling strangely sad and excited at the same time. It was time to open a new book. Hopefully, this one would have a different plot, and maybe, just maybe, a plot twist you so badly needed.
The train pulled into the city’s central station just as the sky softened into late afternoon shades. Stepping off with excitement and nerves twisting in your chest, you took a deep breath and pulled out your phone to dial Seungcheol. You hadn’t told him about your decision to move, and as the call connected, you wondered briefly if surprising him like this was a bit too sudden.
“Hi. How are you?” Seungcheol’s voice came through the receiver. You could hear a faint chatter on the other line and he said, “Excuse me,” to someone.
“I’m fine, where are you?” you asked, unable to stop the slight tremor in your voice.
“I’m here and there.” You could hear the sound of a door opening and closing. “This is a pleasant surprise. You never called during work hours. What’s up?”
“I just thought I should call you,” you replied, unable to stop grinning. “You did tell me to let you know if I ever find myself in your city.”
He didn’t say anything at first, just let out a soft chuckle that seemed to hold both relief and excitement. “Where are you?”
“At the station.”
“Don’t move. I’m coming to get you.”
The city loomed around you, humming with life and endless possibilities. For a moment, you stood in the crowd, letting the sound of distant conversations and the sharp aroma of fresh coffee sweep over you. It hit you then—this was a new chapter, and there was no going back.
Fifteen minutes later, Seungcheol’s familiar figure came into view, weaving effortlessly through the crowd. The moment he spotted you, his smile widened, and as soon as he was close enough, he swept you into a tight hug, burying his face in your shoulder.
“Aw,” you cooed, hugging him back. “Did you miss me?”
“You should’ve told me you were coming,” he murmured against your hair, his grip on you firm and almost possessive.
You laughed, pulling back just enough to look at him. “It was supposed to be a surprise.”
“Well, you nailed it,” he replied, leaning in to press his lips to yours. The kiss was deep, lingering, as if he’d been holding back all this time and could finally let it spill out. It felt like no time had passed at all since you’d last seen each other, yet there was a new energy—an excitement and sense of anticipation in the air between you.
The drive to his place was filled with teasing and sidelong glances, his hand never quite letting go of yours. Arriving at his penthouse, he wasted no time with pleasantries, trapping you in his arms as soon as you walked in and locking your lips together. His hands roamed your body, exploring familiar curves, while yours tangled in his hair, pulling him closer.
You left a trail of clothing on the floor as he guided you into the bedroom. With each kiss, you melted into him, feeling his heartbeat quicken against yours. You failed to notice the marvelous view of the cityscape stretching out under the setting sun, reflecting shades of orange and pink in the tall glass windows. The world outside simply faded into a blur, leaving just the two of you in a connection that was charged with all the longing that had built up during your time apart. As your bodies moved together, a sense of urgency guided you—each touch igniting a flame that had only been waiting for the right moment to burn.
When you finally caught your breath, lying intertwined in the soft glow of the fading sunlight, you stared at the ceiling with pleased smiles on your lips. The warmth wrapped around you like a soft blanket, and a comfortable silence settled between you.
Seungcheol reached for you, and you glanced at him, smiling as you scooted closer and tucked yourself into his side, resting your head on his shoulder. “So,” you started, grinning up at him, “do you mind if I stay with you for a little while? Just until I find my own place.”
His face shifted, the tiniest smirk tugging at his lips as he looked down at you. “Actually, I think it’d be smarter if you stayed until you got the job.” His hand slid down your back. “Then you can pick a place close to work and save yourself a long commute.”
The logic made sense, of course, but the glint in his eyes told you there might be more to his offer. “Or maybe you just want to spend time with me day in and day out. Be honest,” you teased, narrowing your eyes at him.
He laughed. “I was trying to be cool, but alright. I want you here with me everyday. That’s the truth.”
You rolled your eyes playfully. “You could at least continue pretending to be hard to get. You’re no fun.”
“What?” he asked, confusion written all over his face. “I thought you wanted honesty?”
“Whatever. No fun,” you said, fighting back a grin.
But inwardly, a warmth spread in your chest at the thought that he wanted you here—that he wanted you close. You didn’t know where this leap would take you, but sitting there with Seungcheol, the uncertainty felt like something you could embrace.
After Seungcheol gave you a quick tour, the two of you found yourselves tangled up on the couch again. His hands skimmed over your arms, your back, your thighs, tracing over your skin with a familiarity and a desire that sent your pulse racing. The TV murmured in the background, but his slow, deliberate kisses made the world feel quiet and distant.
Just as you were beginning to sink into that familiar haze, the sound of his phone ringing on the coffee table cut through the moment. You both glanced at it, sharing a look, but Seungcheol ignored it, his focus solely on you as he wrapped his arms tighter, pressing his lips to yours as he eased you down onto the plush couch. His hand slipped under your shirt, leaving a trail of warmth along your skin, and you couldn’t help but surrender to the pull of the moment, melting into him completely.
But the phone wouldn’t stop. The ringing resumed, persistent enough that eventually, you couldn’t help but let out a soft laugh, gently pushing him away. “Aren’t you gonna take that?”
“No,” he murmured against your skin, moving to kiss the sensitive spot near your collarbone. “Ignore it.”
Yet another ring, and you couldn’t help but laugh, giving him a playful push. “Take the call, Cheol. It seems important.”
With a sigh, Seungcheol pressed a quick kiss on your lips, and then moved to grab his phone. There was a slight furrow of annoyance on his face as he answered. “What is it?”
You were sitting so close that you could faintly but clearly hear the other person speaking. “Where did you run off to, man?”
“What is it?” Seungcheol repeated, ignoring the other guy and adding weight to his own question.
“Dude, you left in the middle of a meeting. The Takahashis were livid.”
Leaning back against the sofa, Seungcheol rolled his eyes as though this wasn’t worth his time. “Buy them out.”
The other voice paused, clearly taken aback. “What? I thought you wanted a partnership?”
“The man is senile, Josh. Can’t even remember his own son’s name. There’s no point partnering with someone who doesn’t know when it’s time to step down. Let’s buy them out.”
You could hear ‘Josh’ sighing on the other side. “Alright. But it won’t be easy to convince them after your little disappearing act.”
“I’m sure you’ll manage,” Seungcheol said with confidence. “Bring Yoon Jeonghan with you.”
“Alright. Is everything okay? Where are you? What was so important that you had to rush out like that?”
Seungcheol glanced at you, his gaze heavy with what seemed like an unspoken answer to his coworker’s question. The small smile that tugged at his lips told you exactly what he wanted to say without saying it. Rolling your eyes, you gave his arm a light slap.
“I’ll talk to you tomorrow,” Seungcheol said with a smile.
“Tomorrow? Dude, we have 4pm scheduled with the construction company. Don’t—”
Seungcheol ignored the rest of Joshua’s protests as he hung up and tossed the phone aside, refocusing his attention entirely on you. He pulled you back toward him, his lips finding yours as his arms wrapped around you in a familiar, easy embrace. But before he could deepen the kiss, you pressed a hand against his chest, pausing just long enough to catch your breath.
“Go back to work, Cheol,” you said, trying to keep your tone firm. “I can’t believe you ditched work for this.”
He gave a nonchalant shrug. “I’d rather be here.”
When he tried to kiss you again, you dodged, shaking your head with a grin. “I’m serious. You can’t just skip work whenever you want, even if you’re the CEO.”
“I thought being CEO means I can do just that?” he teased, watching your expression. When he saw your jaw drop in playful shock, he laughed. He took your hand, pressing it gently against his chest. “Alright, I’ll go. But only because you told me to,” he said, stealing another kiss.
You rolled your eyes and let him cup your cheek. “Are you sure you want me to go?” he asked.
“Yes. Stop being dramatic. I’ll be here when you get back.”
Seungcheol sighed, glancing at his watch for a second and turning back to you. “Alright, but I’ve got time before my next meeting. Anything you want to do before then?”
You thought for a moment, glancing at your bag. “Actually, yeah. Can you drop me off at an electronics store? I need to get a laptop.”
“Sure. Let’s go,” he invited, but instead of standing up, he lunged at you with a kiss that had you staying on the couch for a good five minutes.
The very next morning, Seungcheol sat across from you at the dining table, his coffee steaming as he watched you scroll through company profiles on your laptop. “It’s important to think about their vision, not just the job title or pay,” he said, tapping his fingers thoughtfully against his mug. “A company’s culture and goals say a lot about how they’ll treat you and how you'll grow there.”
You glanced up, catching the intensity in his gaze as he shared his thought process—like a glimpse into the inner world he often kept guarded. “When it comes to investing, I look for places that share my values or at least lean in the same direction. Even if they’re a little off, if there's room for alignment, and they have really good potential I give them a shot. But if it's a hard no from the start…” he shrugged, smiling a little. “Then it's not worth my time.”
“So, I should find a place that’s worth my time?”
He smiled. “Yes. If it’s worth you time, then it’s exactly where you fit.”
His words echoed in your mind as you stepped into the publishing house for the interview. The receptionist greeted you warmly, and as you waited, you couldn’t help feeling lighter—more confident. For the first time in a long time, you felt like you were making choices that aligned with who you were and who you wanted to become.
Over the next few days, Seungcheol’s advice seemed to anchor you, guiding your approach to each application and interview. Whenever he was out for work, you spent your time filling out forms, researching companies, and drafting cover letters. And with each application, you felt a step closer to rediscovering a part of yourself that had gone quiet.
One evening, you found yourself staring at your laptop, a small smile spreading across your face. It hit you suddenly how long it had been since you’d felt the drive to pursue something. The doubts that had once held you back seemed far away now, chased away by the growing belief that you still had what it took to make this work.
When the rejection email arrived, it hit a bit harder than you’d expected. You stared at the screen for a moment, feeling the disappointment settle in. This was the company Seungcheol had suggested—the one that aligned with everything you’d been hoping for.
Seungcheol found you still at your laptop when he got home, catching sight of the email over your shoulder. Without a word, he placed a comforting hand on your back, leaning in close enough that his warmth almost made the disappointment a little easier to bear. “Hey,” he murmured gently, his thumb tracing soothing circles. “These things happen. A rejection doesn’t define you. If anything, it just means that place wasn’t ready for someone like you.”
You sighed, leaning into him for a second before tilting your head up with a small, determined smile. “You’re right. Anyway…” You toggled to a few other emails on the screen. “Who cares if H Publishing isn’t ready for me? I’ve got three other alphabets practically falling over themselves to snatch me up.”
His eyebrows rose, and he chuckled, folding his arms as he looked at you with mock admiration. “Three companies? Wow, look at you. Guess I gave pretty solid advice, huh?”
“Oh, please. I’m the one with the charm and talent.” You grinned, crossing your arms in triumph. “But yeah, some random guy did tell me to find a place that really fits. He was very wise.” You leaned over, planting a quick, playful kiss on his cheek.
Seungcheol’s face softened as he pulled you in for a real hug, resting his chin on top of your head. “Wise guy, huh? He sounds like he wants you to be somewhere that lets you shine.”
“Don’t let it go to your head,” you teased, glancing up at him.
“Wouldn’t dream of it.” He laughed softly, his arms still wrapped around you, neither of you in any rush to pull away. The moment lingered, easy and unhurried, as if you both knew things were exactly as they should be.
Once you’d finalized the details with your chosen company, the reality of your situation began to settle in. Your start date was fast approaching, and with it, the understanding that your time in Seungcheol’s apartment was coming to an end. He hadn’t mentioned anything, but you knew that, now that you had a stable job, there was no reason for you to stay here anymore.
It was bittersweet. In the past three weeks, you’d become more attached to this life—sharing a space, a routine, even the quiet moments with him. The thought of going back to an empty bed, waking up without Seungcheol’s warm embrace, or the comforting ritual of morning coffee together, weighed on you. But this was a necessary part of starting over; after all, you’d come here to stand on your own, not to fall into the comfort of living with someone you weren’t even officially dating.
Wait… You paused, realization dawning on you. You and Seungcheol weren’t exactly in a relationship… were you?
Up until now, you hadn’t given it much thought, but now that you’d asked yourself the question, suddenly, it was all you could think about!
Was this casual? It was while you were still a guest and a concierge in a faraway hotel. Right now, it doesn’t seem that way anymore. What kind of relationship would you have if Seungcheol had already offered you his home, supported your dreams like it was his own, and focused on you with a warmth and attentiveness that made you feel like his world revolves around you?
“Do you even have feelings for him?” Jill asked when you told her about it over the brunch you’d planned with her a few days ago. She lived in the same city and while you were genuinely happy to spend time with her after all these years, she noticed that something was bothering you and managed to coax you into talking about it.
“No?” You answered, though it sounded more like a question directed at yourself. “I don’t know. I just… hadn’t thought about it until now. Everything felt so easy and so natural. I guess I forgot that things like this might need an actual label.”
Jill’s eyebrow lifted. “Things only need a label if you’ve got feelings and aren’t just hooking up.”
You flattened your lips, contemplating. “Does ‘hooking up’ mean making me breakfast every day for three weeks? Bringing home random gifts just because he thought I’d like them? Or being completely supportive of my career and dreams like it was his too?”
Jill’s knowing look softened as she studied your expression. “Well… when you put it like that, no,” she said, a teasing smile creeping in. “It sounds a lot more like someone who wants to be in your life than just in your bed.”
You sighed, feeling the warmth of her words and, at the same time, a little overwhelmed. “So… what do I do now? Ask him if he wants to be something more?”
Jill shook her head, reaching out to pat your hand. “Relax. You’ve got a lot going on already. You don’t have to figure it all out now,” she said, her voice calm and reassuring. “Just let things unfold naturally. Enjoy this stage, see where it takes you. If it’s meant to be more, you’ll both feel it, and you’ll know.”
And yet that was the problem. You weren’t patient. When something bothers you, you just have to get to the bottom of it as soon as you can.
That evening, as you were preparing dinner together, the inevitable topic was finally brought up. You’d just plated the food when Seungcheol leaned back against the counter, watching you with a contemplative smile.
“So… you’ll be looking for apartments soon,” he said, almost casually, though his gaze held something deeper. “Have you found any places that catch your eye?”
You swallowed the lump in your throat as you set the plates down on the table. “No. I haven’t gotten to it yet. But I’ll start tomorrow, don’t worry.”
A flicker of something—disappointment, maybe?—crossed his face before he gave you a small nod. “Right. That’s good.”
For a moment, silence hung between you, thick with the things you both weren’t saying. The thought of leaving left a strange ache in your chest, and as you looked at Seungcheol, you couldn’t shake the feeling that he felt it too.
“Do you want me to go with you?” he asked just as you sat down to start eating.
“What about work?” you asked back and he shrugged.
“I don’t have anything important to do tomorrow, so I can leave it to them.”
You gave him a smile, one with a hint of sadness about your impending departure. “Alright, then. I could use some company who could show me which neighborhood would be best for me.”
The next morning, the air felt different as you and Seungcheol set out for apartment hunting. As you drove through the city, Seungcheol pointed out various areas, describing their unique vibes.
“This neighborhood has some great coffee shops, and the park nearby is perfect for a morning jog,” he said, gesturing toward a tree-lined street bustling with life.
“Looks perfect,” you replied, though your mind lingered on the idea of leaving his apartment behind.
As the realtor showed you a particularly spacious unit, you couldn’t help but compare it to Seungcheol’s massive penthouse with its high ceiling and floor to ceiling windows. Then again, you had to brush it all aside. This was a hunt for your home, the place you’d be spending your days in while doing what you loved. Somehow, shifting your perspective that way filled you to the brim with excitement.
At the next stop, you walked hand in hand, your fingers interlaced as you each enjoyed churros from a nearby vendor. You wandered through a vibrant farmer’s market, the scent of fresh produce and flowers enveloping you. Picking up a bundle of herbs, you turned to Seungcheol with a grin. “What about an apartment where I can have little herb pots by the window?”
He nodded. “Absolutely.”
“Do you think they’d survive though? What if I can’t take care of them well enough?”
“I think you’re capable of anything as long as you put your mind into it,” he replied and you felt a tug of familiarity in your chest. You were sure you’d heard someone tell you the same thing before, you just forgot when or who it was.
After picking up a few fresh ingredients to bring home, you resumed your hunt for an apartment. You stepped into an open house at a newly-built complex, just two blocks from your workplace. The agent who welcomed you in boasted about the high-tech security system and beautiful amenities, showcasing a rooftop garden that took your breath away.
“Based on your description, Ma’am, this unit might suit your taste perfectly,” said the agent, guiding you into a unit that was a bit smaller than the previous three-bedroom one he’d shown you. “It has one bedroom, a spacious living room, a kitchen, and a bathroom with both a shower and a tub. And of course, a bay window with a beautiful view of the city.”
You marveled at the empty space, envisioning it as a blank canvas waiting for your personal touch. As you exchanged glances with Seungcheol, his eyes sparkled with curiosity, mirroring your excitement. It felt like the beginning of a new chapter, one where your dreams were within reach.
“Feel free to look around and let me know what you think,” the agent said, noticing the delight on your faces. Someone called his name outside, and he excused himself, closing the door behind him.
Practically vibrating with excitement, you walked up to Seungcheol, wrapping your arms around his waist and beaming up at him. “Do you like it?” he asked.
“I love it!” you exclaimed, pulling away to explore the living room further.
Seungcheol leaned against the wall, arms crossed over his chest, watching you with a fond smile. You pushed open every door, gasping at each detail that captivated you.
When you finally felt satisfied, a realization tightened in your chest: It’s happening. You took a deep breath and met Seungcheol’s gaze. “This is it. This is the place.”
He offered a soft smile, one that reached his eyes. “I know. I like it too.”
Once again, the sinking feeling of leaving his place overcame you. “I’m gonna miss your house.”
He pushed off the wall and walked toward you, gently squeezing your shoulders. “You don’t have to go just because the job is set, you know?”
There it was—the invitation you hadn’t dared hope for. But as much as you wanted to stay, your resolve to stand on your own was stronger than any feelings you had for him.
“No, I have to go. I can’t keep invading your space,” you said, smiling, though the sadness flickered in your eyes.
He pulled you closer, wrapping your arms around his waist. “You’re not invading, sweetheart,” he said softly, cupping your cheeks and pressing a tender kiss to your lips. “I like having you there.”
“I know,” you scoffed playfully, rolling your eyes at his obvious affection. “But it wouldn’t make sense to stay there when the purpose of me moving here was so I could pursue something of my own.”
He sighed. “Why did you have to be so independent? Can’t you just stay with me forever? If you haven’t noticed, I’m very capable of making you live a life of luxury without you having to lift a finger.”
“Really? Wow. I didn’t notice,” you deadpanned in mock-surprise. You both laughed for a bit and the quiet that followed was heavy. You just stared at each other, conversing with your eyes but not coming to an understanding. “I’m sure you can make that happen, but forever is such a long time, Cheol.”
“It is,” he replied, his voice low as he looked into your eyes.
“You know, the most common factor that caused my past relationships to fail was our lack of communication. After the last one, I realized I have to make communication the very foundation of my relationships with people��friends, family, boyfriends.”
Seungcheol’s brow furrowed slightly as he absorbed your words. “I get that. Communication is important,” he said slowly, his gaze steady on you.
You felt a surge of courage as you met his eyes, willing yourself to be vulnerable. “That’s why I want to know exactly what you think about us. If this is casual, or if there’s more to this than what we both intended. I like what we have, but I also know that the beginning of our relationship was unconventional and we haven’t known each other that long. But I like it, I like you. Maybe not so much right now, but I’m willing to see where this takes us. So…” You took a deep breath and reached to cup his cheek. “I need to know where you stand.”
His expression shifted, and for a moment, you could see the hesitation flicker in his eyes. But then he leaned into your hand. “I like you more than words could ever describe, sweetheart. I haven’t felt this way for anyone, ever.”
You felt your heart skip a beat at his confession, a mix of relief and excitement coursing through you. “Do you mean that?” you asked softly, searching his eyes for sincerity.
He nodded, his gaze unwavering. “I do. I agree that we started off in a weird way, but I wasn’t even expecting to form something so profound with you in the first place. Still, I’ve enjoyed every moment we’ve spent together. You make me feel different... better.”
A warm flutter spread through you, but the uncertainty still lingered. “So, where does that leave us? I mean, I’m glad we like each other but I don’t want to jump into something without knowing we’re on the same page.”
He leaned to kiss you softly and slowly, as if it was the answer to your question. When he pulled away, there was an affectionate smile on his lips. “There. I jumped first. What are you gonna do?”
You wrapped your arms around his neck and crashed your lips into his for a much deeper, much fervent kiss. The world around you faded, leaving just the two of you and the electric connection that buzzed between your bodies. As the kiss deepened, you felt a rush of warmth flood through you, and your fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer.
Seungcheol responded eagerly, his hands roaming your back. The heat of the moment enveloped you both, and soon you found yourselves pressed against the wall, lost in the embrace. The kiss grew more passionate, hands exploring—fingers tracing along arms and waists, as you both got lost in the vice of each other.
But just as you felt the desire to take things further, the sound of footsteps echoed in the hallway, pulling you back to reality. The agent’s voice cut through the haze, followed by the sound of the doorknob clicking. You pulled away abruptly, breathless and wide-eyed, a rush of embarrassment flooding through you. Seungcheol looked just as startled, both of you momentarily flustered. The heat of the moment dissipated, replaced by the urgency to regain composure.
The agent’s smiling face appeared from the foyer, greeting you cheerfully. “So, what do you think?”
“We’ll take it,” you replied abruptly, still flustered.
“Yes. It’s ours,” Seungcheol added.
“Mine,” you corrected gently, patting his chest.
“Huh?” he asked dumbly, gawking at you for a second. “Oh, yeah. Hers.”
The transition into your role as an assistant editor felt seamless. The initial apprehension faded quickly, replaced by a surprising confidence as you organized articles and collaborated with your team. Being in a creative environment was thrilling and fulfilling. It didn’t even bother you that the pay was average—this was your passion in action, it should be priceless.
Twice a week, Seungcheol would sweep you off to dinner, the routine becoming another cherished ritual. He watched you with a fond smile as you animatedly discussed your day, your words flowing freely as you shared your small wins and challenges.
“I was nervous because they asked for my input out of nowhere but guess what?”
“They liked it?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.
“They did. They thought it was fantastic!”
“Wow, you’re brilliant.”
You giggled. “Oh, and earlier the chair gave out when I was—” you stopped, realizing how much you were rambling. “Sorry. Was I talking too much?”
“It’s okay I’m used to it,” he smiled, offering you a slice of his food. He smiled when you accepted it. “You could go on for hours once you start telling stories, remember?”
You sighed, remembering when you used to recount stories about your exes at his request. “Of course. But back then, you actually wanted to hear it. This is just me going on and on.”
“I like it,” he murmured, nudging another bite your way. “It’s endearing.”
“You’re saying that because you like me too much,” you teased, rolling your eyes playfully before taking the bite from his fork.
His laughter echoed in your ears, affectionate and genuine. You continued eating and talking. Every little touch, every shared smile, left a warmth that lingered even as the plates were cleared. And as you both walked home, Seungcheol slipped his hand into yours, fingers intertwining effortlessly.
“Do you wanna sleep over?” you asked, leaning against his shoulder as you walked.
“Can I?”
You hummed affirmatively. “It’s kinda cold and I kinda missed you.”
His chuckle was low and warm. “Do you miss me every day?”
“Yes,” you replied softly, sniffing the sleeve of his jacket. “Every single day.”
He glanced at you, a glint of mischief visible in his eyes. “Then what do you think about moving in with me?”
“Don’t you ever get tired of asking?” you scoffed, though a smile tugged at your lips.
“It’s fun. Who knows? Maybe if I keep at it, you’ll give in,” he teased, nudging your shoulder.
“Or maybe I’ll kick you out of my life forever.”
“You can try.” He smirked. “But I’m not going anywhere.”
The two of you often spent your evenings at your apartment since he’d pick you up from work, and your place was closer. His job demanded much of his time, even on weekends, so you’d only managed a couple of trips in the last few months. Still, you made time to hang out at his place whenever you could.
Seungcheol always treated you with warmth and care, never missing a chance to hold you, lean against you, or pull you into a hug. It felt like he was always close, a steady presence you’d come to cherish.
“Yes, right there,” you exclaimed, moaning in delight as Seungcheol massaged your tensed shoulder with expertise. You grinned, aware of how you were affecting him. “Oh, Seungcheol. That is so good.”
“Keep doing that and I’ll give you something to really moan about,” he teased, shooting you a look that made you quickly mime a zipper over your lip.
You settled back, savoring the massage, though you couldn’t resist letting out a dramatic moan here and there just to tease him. Seungcheol, as it turned out, is more in control of his urges than you’d expected.
When he finished with your shoulders, he moved to the carpet beside the couch, taking one of your legs into his hands and massaging it. You gave him a warm smile. “You know, I really enjoy being treated like a princess by you,” you mused.
He paused, tilting his head at you. “Princess, huh?”
You nodded with a giggle. “Mmhm, exactly.”
Seungcheol chuckled, setting your foot down with exaggerated care. “Maybe I’m not doing enough, then.”
Your eyes widened. “Wait—what? You’re already doing more than enough!”
“Then why are you a princess and not a queen?”
Your mouth fell open in mock surprise before you started laughing at the cringe line. “Alright, alright. I get it. You’ve got rizz. Come here.” You leaned forward, cupping his cheeks with both hands as you guided him up to meet your lips.
“Choi Seungcheol?” Mina asked, glancing up at you as she leaned back in the salon chair. You’d been looking forward to this weekend with her, Jill, and Lea, a chance to unwind over manicures and girl talk.
“Yeah. Do you know him?” you asked, mildly intrigued.
Mina sighed dramatically. “Do I know him? Everyone in the industry knows him. The guy’s a genius.”
“Really?” You tilted your head, genuinely curious.
“I don’t know all the details, but he founded his holdings company back in 20XX, and it only took him seven years to build a multimillion-dollar empire,” Mina explained, her tone awestruck. “He’s actually one of the investors at my company.”
You blinked in surprise. “That’s... impressive.”
Mina gave you a look. “Wait—didn’t you know this?”
You shrugged, trying to play it cool. “I mean, I knew he had his own company, but he doesn’t talk much about it.”
Jill chuckled. “Your boyfriend is mysterious.”
“Oh, he’s not my boyfriend.”
The three of them stared at you, expressions of disbelief on their faces. Finally, Mina broke the silence, “If he’s not your boyfriend, what is he?”
You hesitated, then admitted, “I mean, well… We’re together, but he didn’t really ask me to be his girlfriend. And I didn’t ask him either. We just came to a consensus that we wanted to be together.”
“Girl, that’s literally what dating is,” Jill deadpanned, rolling her eyes.
You laughed. “Fine, maybe you’re right. I just didn’t want to dwell on labels, you know?”
“Unbelievable,” Mina muttered, but her grin softened the words.
“So, is he self-made or did he get help?” Lea interjected, steering the topic back to Seungcheol’s career. “Nepo baby?”
Mina shrugged. “Not entirely sure. I heard he started out with just one investor—apparently the father of his business partner.”
“Or maybe he’s a genius who just knows how to make the right investments,” Jill mused.
As they chatted, your mind drifted, replaying Mina’s words. You’d never asked Seungcheol much about his past because he was usually reserved about it. He’d drop hints now and then, but he never got into the deeper details. You didn’t even know whether his parents were wealthy—or if they were alive. Somehow, you’d just assumed he’d built his company on his own, out of necessity.
But now, a strange, almost bittersweet curiosity tugged at you. Just who was the man you’d grown so close to? Why did it feel like you barely knew about him?
The weekend went on as the four of you bounced between shopping, brunch spots, and lazy strolls through the streets. Your friends were great company, their laughter and stories taking you back to your youth when things were much simpler. Yet, every now and then, your thoughts wandered back to Seungcheol and the half-formed questions he’d unknowingly left with you.
Had he really kept his career and his life so under wraps out of modesty, or was it just a deliberate choice to keep you in the dark? Was his interest in you genuine, or were you just another distraction to him—an easy escape maybe?
“Earth to you!” Jill’s fingers snapped in front of your face, pulling you back to the table. She looked at you, brow raised, with a teasing smirk. “Where’d you go off to?”
“Oh—nowhere,” you said, smiling sheepishly.
Mina shot you a knowing glance. “Does ‘nowhere’ happen to be a certain tall, good-looking, and mysterious Choi Seungcheol?”
Your cheeks warmed. “Maybe.”
“Thought so.” Mina took a sip of her drink, eyes twinkling. “You’ve been a little preoccupied. Did something bad happen?”
“Not exactly. It’s just…” You hesitated, picking at the edge of your napkin. “I just realized I didn’t know much about him, which is dumb because he probably had me memorized by now. What if there’s more he’s not telling me? And what if he’s not telling me these things because… you know, I’m temporary?” You winced, not quite sure how to put it into words.
Jill reached over to squeeze your hand. “That’s understandable. I mean, the guy’s clearly got a lot going on. Maybe he’s just waiting until he feels it’s the right time?”
“Or maybe he’s afraid of something,” Mina chimed in, thoughtful. “A rich guy like him? People probably approach him with motives all the time. Maybe he’s cautious around people he cares about.”
You sighed, staring down at your coffee. It didn’t help that Seungcheol hadn’t called or messaged you since Friday, leaving a quiet ache you hadn’t quite anticipated. Usually, you’d hear from him at least once, even if it was a short message to check in. Although he did promise he won’t bother you while you were hanging out with your friends. Still, this silence felt different, unsettling.
The afternoon passed by in comfortable, busy distraction. You all wandered through shops, trying on clothes and laughing at ridiculous sunglasses, sharing in the small, simple joys of being together. But every so often, while waiting in line or glancing at your phone, you found yourself hoping to see his name light up your screen, only to be met with empty notifications.
“Are you okay?” Lea asked later, when the two of you found yourselves alone for a moment, the others a few steps ahead.
You managed a smile, brushing it off. “Yeah, I’m totally fine.”
She gave a sympathetic nod. “You know, it’s okay to ask him these things. Better than sitting around wondering. Just… don’t let it ruin your weekend, okay?”
You appreciated her concern, and as the evening stretched into night, you pushed the thoughts aside, letting yourself laugh along with the others and lose yourself in the joy of good company.
On your last night together, you especially looked forward to tomorrow, knowing you’d finally see Seungcheol again. But as you and your friends shared wine, the conversation turned deeper and more personal.
“To be honest? You get the worst when it comes to relationships,” Mina slurred drunkenly, pointing a wavering finger at you. “Jill always attracts cheaters, but she has never let them walk all over her, no.”
Jill raised her glass with a laugh. “Never!”
“Lea is engaged to her high school sweetheart,” Mina continued, gesturing at Lea, who grinned proudly. “And I’ve always dated long-term—though I’m single now,” she added with a shrug.
You chuckled, finding Mina’s drunken antics endearing. She turned her gaze back to you, suddenly serious. “You, my darling girl, you…”
She stumbled over to you, landing next to you on the floor, and you reached to steady her. She rested her head on your shoulder, taking a deep breath before nuzzling into your warmth. “Why do you always get hurt?”
“I don’t do it on purpose,” you replied softly.
“Of course not. Who would ever choose to hurt themselves?” she chuckled bitterly. “I just mean… you always find these amazing guys, only for them to slip through your fingers in the end.”
Lea scoffed playfully, joining Mina on the carpet. “You’re one to talk. You always date long-term, then break up anyway. What’s the point of dating for years if it’s not going anywhere?”
“You wouldn’t understand, Lea, since you’ve only dated one guy since high school,” Mina teased, nudging her. “But with my exes, they were all great at first, only to turn out to be self-absorbed jerks or cheats.”
“So why am I the worst?” you asked, running your fingers through her hair.
“You’re not the worst,” she sighed, leaning her head on Lea’s. “You just have the worst luck out of all of us.” She closed her eyes, voice softening. “Mingyu was broken, and you were right to leave him, but if he’d been in a better place, it could have been beautiful. You wouldn’t have had to go through that heartbreak when you were still young.”
You nodded, feeling the memories settle heavily between you all.
“And Wonwoo…” Mina continued, “well, he was perfect. But he was just passing through your life. And of course, there’s Vernon…”
Mina paused, and the others went quiet. You held your breath as she looked at you, her gaze full of sympathy.
“Breaking up with him… that was your lowest point,” Jill murmured, joining the huddle, her hand resting on yours.
You huffed, a self-deprecating smirk tugging at your lips. “Worst time of my life, to be honest.”
Mina tilted her head, her eyes meeting yours with earnest sympathy. “Do you know what happens to you once you’re in a relationship?” she asked quietly. You shrugged, feeling the gentle press of her hand urging you to listen. “You hyperfixate on them. You forget you had a life before them.”
A pang of guilt struck you, sharper than expected. She was right, and you already knew it—had felt it but never fully admitted it to yourself. In the background of every relationship, your friends and family had often become shadows. You swallowed, words heavy. “I’m sorry, guys.”
Mina waved her hand dismissively. “That’s all in the past. But honestly?” She gave you a half-smile. “It’s a little frustrating to see you dissociate this weekend, drifting off because of your current guy.”
“It really is,” Jill agreed, chuckling. “And you’re not exactly subtle about it.”
“Come on, girl!” Mina sighed, though her tone held a warmth only close friends could manage. “This weekend is supposed to be for us, but your mind’s clearly somewhere else. I get it, we all do, but… I guess I just wonder why that part of you hasn’t changed after all these years.”
You opened your mouth to apologize, but Jill cut you off, her tone softer. “Hey, you don’t have to be sorry. We get it. It’s just… we worry about you.”
Mina’s hand found yours, giving it a light squeeze. “We just hope you find your happiness soon, whatever that looks like.”
You managed a small smile, touched by her words. “So do I, Mina. So do I.”
As you settled into bed that night, Mina’s words lingered in your mind. Her gentle yet unflinching honesty made you confront a truth you’d avoided for years: once you entered a relationship, you tended to lose yourself in it, almost as if everything else faded to the background. And while the connection with Seungcheol felt different, you couldn't ignore the uneasy feeling that you were once again falling into old patterns.
You rolled over, staring at the ceiling as a strange but comforting realization took shape in your mind. For the first time, you decided to hold onto your own life and interests alongside a relationship. You’d never thought about it before because it never seemed necessary, as if love could fill every space. But now, you understood that nurturing your own dreams and friendships was just as vital—that it was the way to truly keep the people you love close to your heart for as long as you could.
The next morning, you found yourself surprisingly refreshed. As you packed up and prepared to leave the villa, you felt a lightness that hadn’t been there before—a sense of confidence that came from knowing you could hold onto yourself, too.
When Seungcheol arrived to pick you up, he stepped out of the car with his usual charm, dressed in his usual suit and tie outfit that drew appreciative glances from your friends. He greeted them warmly, offering a firm handshake and a genuine smile that seemed to put everyone at ease. You introduced each of your friends, watching the small exchanges of laughter and chatter that followed.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you all,” Seungcheol said, a warm glint in his eye. “You’ve been taking great care of her, I can tell.”
“We try,” Lea teased, elbowing you playfully.
With a grin, Seungcheol offered, “How about I treat you all to brunch, as a thank you?”
The girls exchanged quick glances, and Mina, always the spokesperson, politely declined. “That’s sweet of you, Seungcheol, but she’s all yours. We’ve already had her to ourselves all weekend.”
They bid you both goodbye, with Jill pulling you aside for one last, quick hug. “Remember what we talked about, okay?”
You hugged her back, nodding. “I will.”
As you settled into the passenger seat, Seungcheol reached over to clasp your hand, his thumb tracing small circles on your skin. You glanced over at him, feeling both the comfort of his presence and, for the first time, a quiet certainty that you didn’t need to lose yourself to love him. That this time, you could have both—your life and his presence in it, without one overshadowing the other.
Seungcheol glanced at you as he pulled onto the road, catching the thoughtful expression on your face. “Good weekend?”
“Yeah,” you replied, squeezing his hand. “It really was. I think I needed it more than I realized.”
He smiled softly, eyes returning to the road. “Glad to hear that. I think it’s important you keep in touch with friends. They’re usually the ones who know you very well.”
You nodded. “They really are.”
When you reached your apartment, Seungcheol immediately pulled you into a kiss, his arms tight around you. You couldn’t help but smile, coming to a conclusion that he’d been waiting for you.
“Miss me?” you teased, fingers tracing idle patterns on the back of his neck.
“Always,” he replied, his voice a low murmur against your temple as he brushed a kiss there, slow and unhurried.
You tilted your head to meet his gaze, your fingertips trailing up to his jaw, grazing the hint of stubble there. “Then why didn’t you call me?”
“You said you were gonna catch up with your friends,” he pouted, burying his face on the crook of your neck. “I took everything in me not to text you. I spent three hours in the gym every night just to distract myself.”
You giggled, rolling your eyes. “Liar.”
“I’m serious.” he shot back indignantly. “I would never lie about that.”
You scoffed, but your grin was hard to conceal. Seungcheol kissed your cheek. “I miss you so much,” he said softly, his hand sliding to the small of your back, drawing you close.
Your fingers curled at the back of his neck, pulling him down until your lips met in a slow, languid kiss. You could feel him smile against your lips, his fingers tracing gentle circles as he pulled you even closer as if you weren’t already pressed flush against each other.
Soon his mouth left yours, trailing down your jaw to your neck. You sighed into him, savoring the warmth that wrapped around you, letting your heart and body override your brain and lose yourself to the vice of Seungcheol’s touch.
The warmth grew more intense as the familiar press of his body against yours stirred your passion awake. Soft sighs escaped your mouth each time Seungcheol’s teeth grazed your skin and sent a ripple of pleasure throughout your nerves. His strong hands traced slow, deliberate lines along your back, mapping the familiar curves with ease, not stopping when he reached your ass all the way down to your thigh.
Without warning, he lifted you off your feet, making you yelp. Seungcheol grinned, kissing your lips briefly before walking straight into your bedroom. Inside, he dropped you down the mattress and you bounced slightly as you fell.
“You’re such a tease,” he commented, making you blink in confusion and chuckle.
“I’m a tease? I’m not even doing anything,” you retorted, rolling your eyes.
“I know. It’s crazy,” he grinned, discarding his shirt and crawling toward you. “You’re not doing anything and yet…” he guided your hand to his crotch, leaning into your ear as he whispered. “...you’re making me lose my fucking mind.”
Your breath hitched when you felt how hard he was under his pants. His cock pulsed against your palm and it sent a sudden wave of desire through your body that made your pussy tingle with anticipation.
It didn’t take long before you were both naked on your bed, lewd sounds of pleasure and skin against skin echoing through your apartment. If your neighbors could hear you, you wouldn’t know—you didn’t even care anymore at this point. Each kiss and every thrust spoke volumes, a language only the of you knew, built over countless moments like this, yet still feeling as thrilling as the first.
Seungcheol’s pace was delightfully rough, rutting into you with a force that reached the very core of your of cunt and made your eyes roll to the back of your head. Your mouth was gaped open the whole time, letting every moan and whimper escape your throat.
It was wonderful the way he seemed to know you so well, understanding every sigh and shift in your expression. You found yourself responding instinctively, matching his pace as if you were two parts of the same whole.
“Cheol,” you managed to gasp, feeling your body clench with the familiar ache in your belly. You clawed his back frantically, desperate to hold onto something in fear that the intense euphoria would actually send you into orbit. “Please… don’t—don’t stop!”
Recognizing the slight scrunch on your expression, Seungcheol maintained his pace, lowering himself so you could hold onto him properly. “It’s okay. Hold on tight and go ahead. Go ahead, sweetheart. Let it all out.”
Time seemed to slow down, as he rasped your own name in your ear, his voice amplifying the need for release. Eyes rolling back, you let out a dragged-out moan, back arching as you came undone underneath him. He held you by the waist, pausing while he was balls deep inside of you and your walls pulsated around him. He watched your fucked-out expression with a proud smirk before slowly setting you back down, your body twitching a few more times with the aftershocks of your orgasm.
You smiled at him, pushing him up just enough so he could continue. Seungcheol didn’t need to be told, immediately thrusting into you and riding the high that hadn’t even left you yet. Your moans were throaty, losing your mind once more as he rammed into your overstimulated cunt.
And when he finally stilled, he let out a guttural grunt you’d ever heard before collapsing next to you. He wrapped an arm around you, holding you as if letting go wasn’t an option as if you could stay this close forever. You pressed a kiss to his forehead, feeling the quiet warmth settle between you, a deep, steady comfort that lingered even after the last whispers of passion had faded.
“I love you,” you whispered, just as Seungcheol drifted off to sleep.
Days turned into weeks, and weeks into months. Your career was blossoming, you were closer with your friends, and you talked to your parents more often. Adding in Seungcheol by your side, your life felt fuller than it ever had. In this new chapter, you embraced everything as it came, ready to weave your dreams into the fabric of your life.
Then again, life just likes taking a turn when you least expect it to. After all, if it’s all sunshine and daisies, then it isn’t life at all. Challenges are necessary for growth. In this chapter of your life, the ‘turn’ was both familiar and new. Something you’d seen before, but somehow, it felt different.
“Would you like to come with me this weekend? There’s a party and I could use some company,” Seungcheol asked while you were lounging in your living room one night. “A gorgeous one,” he added, winking at you.
“What party?” you asked, considering the invitation but needing to know the details first.
“It’s the anniversary of Hong Industries. I’m close with them so I can’t miss it,” he explained.
“Alright,” you chimed, smiling at him. “But first, am I your girlfriend?”
Seungcheol paused, looking at you with a slight scowl on his forehead. “Of course, you are.”
You hummed. “Just making sure there’s an actual label to this.”
Seungcheol chuckled, placing his spoon down and giving you a fond look. “Of course there is. What happened? What made you ask me that out of nowhere?”
“Nothing. I was just checking,” you replied, shrugging. “If I am to accompany you to a party where I might meet your acquaintances, I should know how to introduce myself.”
“You’re not gonna go there and introduce yourself as my girlfriend, are you?” he asked, looking genuinely perplexed.
“Then what am I supposed to do?”
Seungcheol shrugged as if the answer should be obvious to you already. “You could introduce yourself as a writer.”
“I’m an assistant editor at a publishing company. Not a writer.”
“Then you can introduce yourself that way too.”
You leaned back on the couch, crossing your arms over your chest and looking at him with playful suspicion. “Do you not want me to be known as your girlfriend, Choi Seungcheol?”
“Again with the full name.”
You smirked. “What? I thought you liked it when I called your name?”
“Oh, you’ll call my name alright,” he smirked, tugging his necktie off and lunging at you. You let him lay you down on the couch, but you didn’t let him kiss you, covering his mouth with your hand.
“Come on. Tell me the truth,” you said sternly, narrowing your eyes at him,
Seungcheol smirked. “You know, I could lie right now just to get what I want.”
“Yes, but you wouldn’t. You’re not the type to do that,” you challenged, feeling confident despite the voice in the back of your mind telling you he was changing the subject and avoiding the question.
“You know me too well,” he lilted, kissing your lips softly. “You’re my girlfriend, and we can introduce you as such to anyone and everyone who would care to listen.”
“See? How hard was that.”
Seungcheol sighed, his gaze softening as he looked at you. “I just don’t want you to feel... overshadowed. Being my girlfriend might sound simple, but trust me, it’s not gonna be easy. They’ll see you through that lens first and it’s gonna stick.”
You studied him, intrigued by the rare moment of openness. “I get it, but I know who I am. I’m okay with the label if it’s one we’re both proud of.”
He chuckled, leaning down to kiss you again. “See? You’re one of a kind.” His hand slid down your arm, pulling you closer, and you nestled into the warmth of his embrace. The ease of your familiarity made your heart flutter, the way it always did.
As the evening of the gala approached, you slipped into a fitted, elegant gown, one that was classic yet alluring, the kind that made you feel like you belonged in the world Seungcheol occupied so easily. You finished with a touch of makeup, something that highlighted your eyes and a bold lip to match the confidence you wanted to project tonight. Right on cue, Seungcheol arrived, stepping out of his car looking every bit the part in a sharp black tuxedo. He stopped when he saw you, taking a moment as his gaze swept over you.
“You look marvelous,” he said, reaching for your hand and kissing your knuckles. “Ready?”
“Ready.”
The gala venue was grand, a historic mansion converted into a luxury event space. Tall windows lined the walls, offering a stunning view of the city skyline. The chandeliers bathed the room in a golden glow, illuminating guests dressed in designer clothes, mingling with ease over champagne and laughter. As you stepped into the space, you felt Seungcheol’s hand slip to the small of your back, a subtle gesture that felt both protective and possessive.
“Stay close,” he murmured, guiding you through the crowd.
Seungcheol was a magnet for attention tonight. As soon as you arrived, people began gravitating toward him, friends and colleagues, associates he had to greet. Each time, he would introduce you with an easy, charming smile. “She’s an assistant editor at V Publishing,” he’d start, then add with pride, “and also my girlfriend.”
Every introduction made you feel both more part of his world and distinctly aware of how different it was from your own.
“CEO Choi!” someone called from the crowd.
You and Seungcheol turned toward the voice, spotting a man approaching with a friendly, approachable charm. He looked polished in his navy-blue tux, his expression warm. Seungcheol sighed as he saw him, a subtle reaction that made you wonder if he wasn’t fond of this guy.
“Hey, Josh,” Seungcheol greeted, his tone drier than usual. The name triggered a vague recognition in your memory.
Joshua ignored Seungcheol, focusing on you with a bright smile as he extended a hand. “You must be her—the woman who made CEO Choi go AWOL for a whole week in some far-off hotel. I’m Joshua Hong, COO of his company.”
You narrowed your eyes slightly but shook his hand anyway. “Somehow, I feel like you don’t like me already.”
“Oh, I adore you! I’ve been dying to meet you,” he said with exaggerated enthusiasm, though you weren’t quite convinced.
“Okay…” you replied, raising an eyebrow.
Before you could continue, another voice chimed in from behind. “Well, would you look at that,” a smooth voice said. You and Seungcheol glanced over your shoulders to find a strikingly handsome man with blonde hair, a playful grin tugging at his lips. “If it isn’t Choi Seungcheol with the most gorgeous woman I’ve ever seen.”
“Jeonghan,” Seungcheol replied flatly, sighing as though he’d already braced himself for this. “Just my luck.”
Jeonghan slipped over to Joshua’s side, eyeing you with a knowing smile that made you feel self-conscious. He looked you over with a slow, appraising gaze.
“Alright, you two are creeping me out,” you said, scowling slightly. “What’s going on?”
“I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t checking you out,” Jeonghan teased, his gaze shamelessly drifting from your face to your dress. “You’re kinda hot.”
Seungcheol stepped in, placing a hand on Jeonghan’s chest and pushing him aside. “That’s enough. Don’t make her uncomfortable.”
Joshua stepped forward, positioning himself on your other side with a friendly grin. “Sorry about my friend. He’s a bit of a creep,” he said, nodding toward Jeonghan before offering his arm. “Can I get you a drink?”
You glanced at Seungcheol, who nodded reassuringly. “He’s my friend. Go ahead if you’d like.”
“Hey, why does he get to be her escort?” Jeonghan protested, raising a hand in mock indignation.
“Because you’re a creep,” Joshua replied, dismissing him with a wave of his fingers as he guided you to the minibar.
At the minibar, Joshua handed you a glass of champagne and leaned in with a warm, curious smile. “So,” he began, “how did you and Seungcheol get together?”
You took a sip of your drink, feeling a bit on the spot. You didn’t go into the details but gave him the briefest version. “It just sort of… happened, I guess. We kept running into each other.”
Joshua nodded, looking amused but a little surprised. “Seungcheol doesn’t usually bring dates to these events. I mean, he keeps his private life pretty close to the chest, so seeing you two together tonight is definitely a first.”
You glanced across the room where Seungcheol was in conversation with another guest, his eyes occasionally drifting back to you. The thought that he’d brought you here when he normally came alone gave you a quiet, warm thrill.
Before you could say anything else, Joshua shifted the conversation with a curious glance. “He told me you’re an assistant editor. That must be exciting work. Jeonghan over there,” he nodded toward his friend who was in the same circle as Seungcheol, “he’s in the broadcasting industry. They’re always on the lookout for writers, you know.”
“Oh,” you replied, taken aback by the suggestion. You hardly considered crossing into a field like that, especially given that this was one of Seungcheol’s friends.
Joshua noticed your hesitation and chuckled lightly. “I know Jeonghan comes off… well, a little intense. But he’s actually a decent guy—he just likes to mess with Seungcheol as much as possible.”
You laughed, feeling more at ease. “Yeah, I did notice they seem to have that kind of friendship.”
“Exactly. But hey, if you’re interested in exploring other avenues with your writing, Jeonghan would be a good contact. You’d be surprised at the kinds of opportunities that open up in broadcasting.”
You nodded thoughtfully, his words sparking an idea you hadn’t considered. Working as a writer beyond publishing was unfamiliar but intriguing, and the prospect made your heart race a little. “Thanks for the tip, Joshua. But I’m fairly new in the industry. I will consider it though.”
Joshua smiled at you with a kind of charm that made you feel at ease. But before the conversation could deepen, someone pulled him aside, and he gestured he’d be quick. You nodded, mouthing that he could take his time. As you sipped your champagne, your gaze drifted over the crowd—and then you spotted a familiar face. Mingyu, with that warm, easygoing grin, met your eyes and lit up immediately.
Within seconds, he’d crossed the room in a few quick strides. “Oh my god, I can’t believe this—how long has it been?”
You laughed, surprised and genuinely happy to see him. “Not too long. How have you been?”
Talking with Mingyu felt like no time had passed at all. He was as charming and witty as ever, and soon you found yourself reminiscing, falling into a rhythm as if the year between you had been just yesterday. Mingyu asked about your work, your life, and sprinkled in stories of his own misadventures, making you laugh and remember what had drawn you to him once.
But out of the corner of your eye, you noticed Seungcheol approaching, his gaze locked onto you and Mingyu. His steps were unhurried, but his eyes held an intensity that sent a shiver through you. He slid his arm around your waist as he reached you, claiming his place at your side in a way that left no room for doubt.
“Hey,” Seungcheol greeted before pressing a quick kiss on your cheek.
“Hi,” you smiled at him and then turned back to Mingyu. “This is Choi Seungcheol my—”
“Boyfriend,” Seungcheol cut in, his voice steady but carrying an edge that made your stomach flutter. “And you must be Kim Mingyu.”
Mingyu’s face brightened. “You know me?”
Seungcheol’s gaze shifted to you briefly before replying, “I’ve heard a lot about you.”
“Really? It’s nice to meet you! CH Holdings, right?” Mingyu asked, genuinely enthusiastic.
“Yes,” Seungcheol replied coolly, sizing Mingyu up in a way that was hard to ignore. The silence that followed, though brief, felt thick and awkward. Mingyu was the first one to break, glancing at you with a smile.
“I’m really glad we ran into each other. We should catch up sometime,” he suggested, glancing between you and Seungcheol with a hint of his usual playfulness.
“Why?” Seungcheol’s reply was direct, and though his tone was mild, there was a possessiveness beneath it that made Mingyu laugh.
“Relax, man. I’m not trying anything. We go way back, that’s all,” Mingyu assured.
Seungcheol’s hand on your waist tightened slightly as he responded with a controlled smile, “Doesn’t seem that way to me.”
Mingyu blinked, taken aback for a moment. “What?” He glanced at you, clearly confused.
You could sense the tension simmering beneath Seungcheol’s composed expression, and though Mingyu was mostly oblivious to it, you could feel the subtle line that had been drawn. Seungcheol wasn’t letting his guard down.
“Alright, that’s enough,” you said, gently squeezing Seungcheol’s arm, trying to diffuse the situation. Turning back to Mingyu, you offered, “It was good seeing you, Mingyu. Let’s catch up soon.”
“Definitely. Enjoy the party!” Mingyu’s smile was genuine as he gave a small wave before heading off, but he glanced back at Seungcheol with an amused look as he went.
Once he was out of earshot, you looked up at Seungcheol, catching the faintest trace of jealousy in his expression. “What was that about?” you asked, arching an eyebrow as you leaned into his arm.
Seungcheol shrugged, trying to play it off. “Just remembering what happened the last time you bumped into him.”
You laughed softly, a bit incredulous. “You think something like that would happen again?”
He gave you a look, not entirely joking. “Who knows?”
“Okay, that’s offensive.”
“What do you mean?”
Your smile faded as you let out a short, sharp sigh, feeling a twinge of hurt at his insinuation. You shook your head and stepped away. Seungcheol reached out as if to follow, but before he could say anything, a group of men gathered around him, clearly eager for his attention. He glanced at them, then back at you, his gaze following you even as he nodded along to their conversation.
You were offended, and rightfully so. How could he see you as someone who would betray his trust so easily? Your encounter with Mingyu last year had been a fleeting moment of comfort during a time when you were single and lonely. But now, you’re with Seungcheol. Surely he wouldn’t think you’d jeopardize what you had with him by sleeping with your ex, would he? Did he really really think that low of you?
You barely noticed the woman who approached you until she spoke. “Are you Seungcheol’s designated arm candy? You’re pretty.”
“Excuse me?” you blurted, startled by her sudden appearance and appalled by her question.
“You have an attitude too, hmm,” she commented nonchalantly, looking you up and down before walking away.
You watched her walk away, bewildered by her casual insult. Was that really how people saw you—just a pretty accessory to someone like Seungcheol? Did everyone at this gala see you through that narrow lens?
The woman's words lingered in your mind, twisting with the doubt that had already taken root from Seungcheol's earlier comment. You clenched your fists, trying to shake off the feeling of inadequacy that threatened to creep in.
As you scanned the room, the laughter and chatter around you felt distant and muted. You wanted to enjoy the evening, to stand alongside your boyfriend with pride, but your thoughts kept spiraling back to the weight of his mistrust and the woman’s dismissive tone.
The car ride back to Seungcheol’s penthouse was quiet and tense. He kept glancing your way, trying to coax out the reason for your anger, but you merely stared out the window, letting the city lights blur together into a wash of colors.
“Please tell me what’s wrong,” he asked again, his voice laced with concern.
You shrugged, not trusting yourself to speak without letting your frustration spill over. The truth was, you didn’t want to talk; you didn’t want to explain the whirlwind of emotions inside you.
“Come on, sweetheart, don’t shut me out. I know something’s bothering you,” he pressed gently, reaching for your hand. You pulled away slightly, feeling the distance between you growing.
Once you arrived, you wasted no time making your escape. You hurried to the guest room, locking the door behind you. After a quick bath, the warmth of the water soothing your nerves, you slipped into bed, the exhaustion from the night settling in as you closed your eyes. You heard the soft creak of the door sometime later, feeling the mattress sink behind you as Seungcheol lay next to you. But you pretended to be fast asleep, too tired to face the rift coming between you.
“I’m sorry. I was just jealous,” he murmured, pulling you closer. “I trust you with my life. I know you would never go behind my back. I’m so sorry.”
You heard him clearly, but you were intent on your pretense so you didn’t respond. Instead, you allowed yourself to relax into his arms, grateful for the warmth, even if your heart felt heavy.
Morning light seeped through the curtains, casting yellowish light into the room. You blinked against the brightness, feeling the soft fabric of the blanket wrapping around you. You soon waddled out of the bedroom, dressed only in your underwear and Seungcheol’s oversized shirt. As you entered the living room, the casual atmosphere was shattered by the sight before you.
Seungcheol was standing with his hands on his waist, facing a woman sitting comfortably on the couch as if she belonged there. It was the woman from the gala, the one who’d called you an ‘arm-candy’. She was beautiful, with an air of confidence that emanated from head to foot. And she noticed you as soon as you stepped into the living room, raising an eyebrow arrogantly.
“You have a guest,” she said, making Seungcheol glance over his shoulder. The hard expression on his face softened upon meeting your gaze.
“Who is this?” you asked Seungcheol, trying to mask your discomfort with a casual tone.
Seungcheol opened his mouth to answer but the woman was quicker. “I’m his fiancee,” she announced, standing up at once. “Nice to meet you.”
You froze, your mind buffering at the declaration. Seungcheol held your hand and with a warning tone, he said, “Jiwon.”
The woman—Jiwon—raised an eyebrow. “If you like her so much, you should have told her about me sooner.”
“Get out,” Seungcheol practically growled, but that didn’t seem to faze Jiwon. She smirked, picking up her purse and heading for the door.
Before leaving, however, she said, “You’re free to play around as much as you want, Seungcheol. But only for now. I won’t stand for this disrespect once we’re married.”
It felt like your world came crashing down, a weight settling heavily on your chest as you stood there, trying to make sense of it all. Your mind was spiraling, processing the information painfully fast and coming into a confusing conclusion: was your relationship with Seungcheol simply a distraction from his obligations to Jiwon?
“I can explain,” he began, his voice urgent as he stepped closer. You recoiled when he reached for you, looking straight at him with confusion and hurt. Instead of listening to his reassurances, you turned away, the sting of tears blurring your vision. You retreated into the bedroom, your footsteps thundering against the floor as you shut the door behind you, leaving Seungcheol’s voice echoing faintly in the hallway.
Your hands were shaking as you tugged on your clothes, every movement fueled by a whirlwind of emotions—hurt, confusion, and anger. You were just about to change when you felt Seungcheol’s arms wrap around you from behind, holding you tightly against him.
“Please don’t go,” he murmured, his breath warm against your ear, a hint of desperation softening his voice. “You said you want communication to be the foundation of our relationship, and yet you walk away when I try to do just that.”
“I didn’t wanna hurt myself even more,” you muttered under your breath, but he heard you just fine.
His voice grew firmer. “I would never hurt you.”
“That’s too big of a promise,” you whispered, biting back fresh tears. “You already did.”
He sighed, and you reluctantly turned to face him, tears spilling over. “Is it true? Is she your fiance? Are you engaged to that woman?”
His expression softened, and he pulled back slightly to look into your eyes. “Yes, but—”
He held your gaze, his shoulders slumping slightly. “Yes, but—”
Before he could finish, you slipped out of his hold, pulling on your own clothes as if it would shield you from him. Seungcheol reached for your arm again, but you swatted his hand away. Seemingly frustrated, he tugged your shoulders so you would face him.
“Please listen to me.” He reached for your arm again, frustration crossing his face as he gently tugged you to face him. “Jiwon is only engaged to me because of our families’ wishes. It’s a business arrangement, nothing more.”
You tried to absorb his words, but all you could think about was how little you actually knew about him. “But that doesn’t change the fact that you’re engaged to someone else.”
He sighed. “It’s not that hard to deal with it. I can even go ahead and break it off right now.”
You pushed him away, stepping back to keep a distance between you. “Alright, fine! Let’s say it is that easy to break it off, but that’s not the point, Cheol. You were engaged with another woman. It doesn’t matter what the circumstances were, the fact that you couldn’t tell me—your girlfriend—something so important? That is the problem!”
“I’m sorry,” Seungcheol sighed. “I never meant to keep it from you. I just want to protect you from all this chaos. I know I should’ve been honest from the start. I’m sorry.”
Your gaze didn’t falter, not even after his heartfelt apology. “I hardly know anything about you, Seungcheol. Who were you before becoming such a successful businessman? How did you grow up? What’s your family like? Did you have a good childhood? You never told me any of these things.”
Seungcheol’s brow furrowed, and he took a deep breath. “I thought it didn’t matter. My life was uninteresting until I met you.”
“But I want to be a part of your life, and for that to happen, you need to open yourself up to me the same way I’ve bared my heart and soul to you.” Your voice trembled as you spoke, frustration mingling with despair. “I don’t know what reasons you have, but all I know is that your refusal to share the intimate details about yourself implies that I am just a temporary phase in your wonderful life.”
“That’s not true!” Without hesitating, he reached out to cup your face. “I’ll bring you into my life. I’ll show you everything—my family, my past, my business. I want you to understand who I am, and I want you to be a part of it all.”
His sincerity pierced through the haze of hurt clouding your mind. You wanted to believe him, to trust that there was more to him than the wealth and the privilege that surrounded his world. But doubt still lingered in your heart.
“I swear,” he added, his gaze unwavering. “I’ll do whatever it takes to make this work. Just don’t walk away from me now.”
His words hung between you, a lifeline in the storm of confusion. You felt the warmth of his body against yours, a reminder of the connection you had built. It was fragile, but it was real. And in that moment, you wanted to fight for it.
You nodded slowly, wiping the tears from your cheeks. “Okay. But you have to promise to be open with me. No more secrets.”
Relief flooded his features, his soft smile brimming with gratitude. “I promise.”
As you felt his arms around you again, you found yourself holding onto hope, even as questions lingered in your mind, waiting to be answered.
Seungcheol’s promise of taking you to meet his family came sooner than later. His parents always held a regular family dinner in the grand hall of their estate, the kind you’d only seen in movies. Chandeliers hung low from the ceiling, casting a soft glow over tables with silver cutlery that gleamed as if they’d never been touched. Seungcheol’s hand stayed firm around yours as you walked in/
He had told you about his family situation before coming here. His mother remarried when he was a kid, and while his stepfather wasn’t hard on him in any way, he wasn’t exactly affectionate either. And that lack of connection made Seungcheol feel distant from him, causing him to feel like he didn’t really belong in the family.
He leaned in, whispering, “Stay by my side, okay?” You nodded, but even his warmth couldn’t ward off the unease settling in your chest.
Seungcheol introduced you to his mother first, a graceful woman with soft eyes and a welcoming smile that made you feel at ease, if only briefly. “It’s so lovely to meet you,” she said, her hands clasping yours warmly. “Seungcheol’s told me about you.”
“Nice to meet you too,” you replied, trying to keep your voice steady.
Just as she was about to say more, a tall, sharp-featured man walked over—the infamous stepdad. He nodded curtly, his handshake firm but impersonal. “So, you’re the one Seungcheol’s been seeing.” His voice was low, with an edge that made it hard to gauge if he was simply reserved or disapproving.
“Yes, sir,” you replied, and though he made no further comment, his cool gaze lingered on you for a moment before he turned away to greet another guest. You glanced at Seungcheol, who gave you a small, reassuring squeeze of your hand.
As the evening wore on, you began to feel the walls closing in. Each relative seemed to carry an opinion, judging you silently, as though Seungcheol’s mere association with you was an odd choice they couldn’t understand. While his parents were civil, the whispered conversations and lingering looks from his extended family didn’t go unnoticed by you.
As if that wasn’t enough, Jiwon was there too and she made her hostility impossible to ignore. She was seated just across the table, her gaze flicking over to you now and then with a displeased expression. Eventually, she leaned over when Seungcheol stepped away to speak with his mother.
“You surprise me, seriously,” she said, eyes sparkling with a smugness you couldn’t miss. “Where did you get the nerve to come here, meet his entire family, and act as if you would ever be an actual part of his life?”
You sighed, careful not to let your emotions show. “Say whatever you want. I’m here for Seungcheol, not you.”
“Hmm,” she hummed, lips curving in a faint smirk. “I hope you can keep that attitude. His parents may be civil, but everyone else?” Her eyes swept over the hall and you couldn’t help copying her.
The unease in your chest transformed into an unsettling fear as you caught the sharp gazes of the other family members. It was as if you’d found yourself thrown into a den of venomous snakes waiting for a chance to attack.
“Seungcheol’s life is complicated, you see,” Jiwon said in your ear, her voice low. “If you think your love—or whatever you think you have, is enough to conquer all of this, then, good luck.”
You clenched your hands in your lap, holding back the urge to respond, knowing anything you said would only give her more satisfaction. The evening continued in much the same way, the subtle jabs and dismissive glances wearing you down. By the time Seungcheol returned to your side, you could barely manage a smile.
“Are you alright?” he asked, brows furrowing as he noticed the strain in your expression.
You forced a nod. “It’s just…a lot to take in.”
He sighed, eyes scanning the room as though seeing it through your eyes. “Do you wanna leave now?” he murmured. “We don’t have to stay here.”
His voice was reassuring, but it didn’t change the way you felt, and you weren’t sure anything could. Every glance, every whispered word, reminded you of the differences between you and the world Seungcheol lived in. Your heart felt heavy with the painful realization.
“Let’s get out of here,” you whispered, forcing a smile to at least offer comfort for him.
As you waited for Seungcheol to finish his goodbyes to his parents, an elderly aunt approached you, her lips pursed in a look of utter disapproval. She regarded you up and down, her eyes narrowing as though you were something stuck to the bottom of her shoe.
“So, you’re the fling,” she muttered, her voice dripping with disdain. “That ungrateful brat. If he had even the tiniest ounce of self-respect, he wouldn’t parade some crook in front of the people who raised him.” She let out a dry chuckle, glancing pointedly at the oblivious Seungcheol. “He’s not even a part of this family. The least he could do was have enough decorum to not disrespect the fiance picked out for him.”
You felt the blood drain from your face at her words as they echoed bitterly in your mind, ripping through the thin layers of composure you had left. You thought you could endure it, but the attack on Seungcheol stung sharper than any quiet insult directed at you all evening.
As you settled into the car, a heavy silence lingered between you and Seungcheol. He shot a worried glance your way, brow furrowing as he took in your strained expression.
“What happened back there?” he asked, his voice gentle.
You looked down, fiddling with your fingers. You opened your mouth, but all that came out was a shaky breath. It felt as though the right words were slipping through your fingers, too fragile to grasp. You took a deep breath, willing your heart to calm down.
Finally, you met his gaze, and the words tumbled out before you could stop them. “I don’t think I belong in your world, Seungcheol.”
His expression shifted, shock clouding his features. “What are you talking about? Of courses, you belong in my world. That there is not mine. It never was.”
You shook your head, holding back the tears that threatened to spill over. “Your family, your friends… the life you come from—it’s so different from everything I know. Tonight just proved that to me, over and over again.” You paused, voice catching in your throat. “I can’t pretend like it doesn’t matter.”
“Who cares what they think?” he countered, his voice rising with frustration. “You’re not dating them, you’re with me. I’m not gonna lose you over this.”
The hurt in his voice tugged at your resolve, but the memories of those sneering faces and whispered words echoed in your mind. You bit your lip, unable to hold his gaze any longer. There was so much you wanted to say—how you didn’t want his family’s disapproval of you to affect how they saw him. The thought of him facing endless judgment and criticism for choosing you, no matter how strong he was, filled you with an aching guilt.
You looked out the car window, gathering your thoughts before speaking. Then, with a quiet voice, you asked, “Why did you date me, Seungcheol? If you knew everyone would be against it?”
Seungcheol’s hands tightened on the steering wheel as he drove. “I don’t care what they think. I care about you. You’re the only one I want.”
His words felt sincere, but it only frustrated you more. “Just tell me why?” You turned to him, voice trembling. “Why did you stay in that remote hotel just to spend time with me? Why did you sleep with me? No—actually, let’s go back to the very beginning, why did you ask me to tell you about my exes in the first place?”
He pulled the car to a stop outside your building, silence stretching between you. Finally, he sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “I just wanted to hear it,” he admitted, his voice soft, almost uncertain.
“Yes, but out of all the people, why me?” You leaned closer, searching his face for answers.
“Because I didn’t know what love is!” he burst out, cutting through your frustration. The rawness in his voice made you pause, your breath hitching at the vulnerability laid bare before you.
“I didn’t single you out. You just happened to be there, and I was desperate.” His frustration spilled over as he punched the heel of his palm on the steering wheel. “I didn't know what love felt like or how it looked. I had an idea, but it wasn’t enough to grasp the whole concept.”
You watched him, heart aching as he avoided your gaze as if it shamed him to tell you all of this. “I thought that maybe I just needed someone else’s perspective. Maybe if I could find someone who’s willing to let me in on their experience of love and being loved, I would come to understand it.”
“Cheol…” you trailed off, heart heavy with sympathy.
“I didn’t mean for it to be you,” he continued, eyes distant, lost in his memories. “You rejected my offer and that was it. I was ready to look elsewhere, but then you came to me and said you’d tell me. I was grateful and I looked forward to it. I was only there for the stories, for your perspective. But then… but then I saw you.”
His gaze flickered to yours, softening with affection. “I saw that you’re the type who wears your heart on your sleeve. I noticed how your eyes twinkled at the happy memories, how your face fell with the sad. You offered the most sensible insights about love and relationships—you made it so easy to understand.”
“I didn’t mean for it to happen,” he confessed, leaning his head back against the headrest, exhaling slowly as if releasing a weight. “But the more you spoke about love and its beauty, the stronger I was pulled toward you. You intrigued me, and made me curious about you. I stayed awake all night, looking forward to seeing you again and being greeted by that vibrant smile. I…”
Seungcheol took a deep breath, his eyes locking onto yours again, revealing the depth of his feelings. “I fell in love with you, and I didn’t even know that’s what it was until right now.”
You couldn’t find your tongue, utterly dumbfounded by his confession and the raw honesty he was willing to share. Your heart raced with confusion, empathy, and heartbreak, making it difficult to breathe. How could he feel this way yet remain so unaware of the consequences?
You wished you could fully embrace this moment, but the reality of the world outside felt suffocating. Would this love be enough to bridge the gap between your worlds? Did that world even matter when Seungcheol was ready to leave it all behind, defying everything just to be with you?
“Choi Seungcheol you…” you trailed off, and you never got to finish what you were supposed to say.
It has been over a year since you last came home. The familiar sights and sounds of your hometown wrapped around you like a warm embrace. You strolled through the tree-lined streets, savoring the laughter and chatter of families and children playing in the parks. Every corner held a memory, a fragment of your childhood and your youth, and it felt good to reconnect with your old life.
One afternoon, you decided to explore the downtown area, a vibrant hub that had seen its fair share of changes over the years, though it looked almost the same as when you left it last year as a heartbroken woman determined to pick yourself up from the god-awful slump you’d found yourself in. As you wandered through the streets, your heart swelled with nostalgia. The familiar shops, cafes, and the old movie theater brought back a flood of memories.
As you passed by the sleek glass building that housed Vernon’s company, a wave of pride washed over you. You couldn’t help but marvel at his accomplishments. You had always known he was meant to succeed, and it felt rewarding to see him thrive in a world that was once a part of you but not felt so distant. You paused for a moment, contemplating your lives, wondering how he was doing now. And while you hoped he was doing great, you had no intention of checking in on him. You knew better.
At home, after a cold shower, you found your phone buzzing incessantly on your bed. You opened a message notification and found yourself added to a group chat with your old friends from senior year of college. The lively banter and enthusiastic greetings flooded your screen, and you couldn’t help but smile.
Lea: 🎉 Heyyy guys! Guess who’s finally in the group chat?! Mina: My girlie! I missed you! Lea: I added her last because her account was deactivated a few days ago. So mysterious 😏 Seokmin: My honeybunch sugar plump! I missed you! You: you guys are so energetic lmao Hoshi: Hi hiiii! Don’t worry. It’s a bit awkward talking to your ex on here but it gets easier lol lol Mina: IDK. You’re the only one who feels that way. You: 😳 Can we not bring up exes? Seokmin: @/wonwoo Hoshi: @/wonwoo Junhui: @/wonwoo You: You know what guy? Fuck you Wonwoo: 😅😅😅
The conversation flowed effortlessly as you reminisced about inside jokes, embarrassing moments, and late-night study sessions. It felt like no time had passed at all.
Jill: What’s everyone up to these days? I feel like I’m in a time warp! Mina: I just got a promotion at work! 🎊 Now I’m officially a project manager! Seokmin: Nice, Minmina! What’s your secret? Mina: Coffee and panic! Hoshi: Did you guys hear about Wonwoo? He’s working at a big company in London now! You: Really? That’s amazing! Junhui: Living his dream fr! Proud of you man! Hoshi: And he’s also dating a supermodel now, right? Seokmin: Ugh, goals. 🤩 Wonwoo: False. Guys don’t listen to him, he’s an idiot Mina: Some things never change. Hoshi: HEY LOW BLOW! YOU USED TO TELL ME I WAS YOUR IDIOT? Junhui: smells like a comeback
The chat continued to buzz with excitement as everyone chimed in, sharing their own updates and encouraging each other to reconnect. You felt a warmth spread through you, a reminder of the bonds that had shaped your past. You found out later on that Lea made the group chat to tell everyone she was getting married. You spent the rest of the afternoon lost in conversation, laughing and sharing memories.
On the fourth day of your weeklong leave, you walked down the busy sidewalk of the downtown area again, running an errand for your mom who had asked you to buy some bread. When you turned a corner, you almost collided with a couple exiting the same corner.
“Jiwon?” you exclaimed, stepping back in surprise. Of all the people you could run into, Jiwon was the last person you’d expected. “What are you doing here?” you asked, eyes flitting back and forth between her and the guy she was clinging on to.
“Hi! It’s been ages,” she greeted exaggeratedly, catching you off guard. She smiled, though you could see the flicker of uncertainty in her eyes. “I didn’t expect to run into you. Do you want to grab a coffee and catch up?”
You hesitated for a moment, unsure where this was going. She turned to the man beside her. “She’s an old friend. Can you go back first? I wanna catch up with her for a bit.”
“Alright, no problem,” he chimed, kissing Jiwon briefly and then smiling at you before he walked away.
As you settled into a cozy café, the aroma of freshly brewed coffee enveloped you both. You were reluctant to join her, but curiosity got the best of you. She spoke first and the initial awkwardness began to fade as you exchanged pleasantries. But soon, she leaned forward, a serious expression on her face.
Is she worried you’d tell someone that you saw her with another guy? Maybe. She was probably gonna ask that you keep it a secret. That was what you were thinking while she was hesitating to speak.
“Do you love Seungcheol?” she asked suddenly, her voice barely above a whisper.
You blinked, taken aback by the question. “What does that have to do with you?”
Jiwon sighed, her shoulders sagging as if the weight of the world pressed down on her. “I just... I need to know if there’s a chance. I mean, if you could make it so we didn’t have to marry each other, that would be great.”
“Why?” You couldn’t help but challenge her. “That has nothing to do with me.”
She shook her head, frustration lining her features. “I’d hate to tell you this since we’re not close, but I’m the oldest in my family with no brothers, and misogyny is a thing that runs deep into my father and forefathers’ bloodstream. I could never be heir to my family’s estate so I have to marry a rich man and produce a male heir.”
You winced before you could stop yourself. What a backward way of thinking, you thought to yourself. But who am I to judge? “You’re free to follow your traditions.”
“That’s the thing, I don’t want to follow tradition. I don’t even want the estate. My boyfriend is wealthy too, but they preferred Seungcheol over anyone else.” She paused, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “I’m sorry for being mean to you before. I have no excuse. I just felt it was unfair that Seungcheol gets to openly date someone he genuinely liked while I can’t.”
You felt a surge of empathy for her, a realization that her harshness stemmed from her own insecurities and the pressure she faced. But you kept your thoughts to yourself, knowing that to her, any hint of pity would only feel like an insult. While you empathize with her, that didn’t excuse her actions before. She was rude and mean, regardless of her personal problems, she had no right to take it out on other people.
You leaned back in your chair, adopting an arrogant demeanor. “I’m not going to love Seungcheol to do you a favor. If that happens, the reason would simply be the fact that it’s how I really feel.”
Her expression faltered, surprise mixing with frustration.
“And honestly,” you continued, your voice steady, “I couldn’t care less about your issues, or what happens with the agreement between your families. If Seungcheol chooses me, then that’s all the reason I need to fight for our love.”
You didn’t want to tell her what to do, nor offer any advice—you were not in a level of familiarity where you could do that. You didn’t even want to confess your love for Seungcheol to anyone else, but it was your way of subtly supporting Jiwon’s pursuit of true love. It was up to her to interpret.
Jiwon looked down at her coffee, deep in thought. You hoped she was thinking about her options. “I guess that’s fair,” she murmured finally, her voice barely audible.
You watched her for a moment, curious about the vulnerability she’d hidden behind arrogance and pride. Perhaps, in another life, you could have been friends. But in this one, you were on opposing sides, each fighting for your own happiness.
As you walked home, the weight of your conversation with Jiwon lingered in your mind but you were feeling lighter as if a thorn had been pulled out of your chest. You pushed open the front gate, the familiar sound of creaking hinges echoing in the quiet evening. Your heart raced at the thought of what the future held for you and Seungcheol. You tried to get him out of your mind, but now you miss him so badly.
“Hey,” came a familiar voice and made you stop in your tracks. Standing at your front porch, silhouetted against the soft glow of the porch light, was Choi Seungcheol.
“Cheol?” you whispered, eyes wide. You took a step closer, your pulse quickening.
He sighed. “I know I said I’d give you time, and I promised not to bother you while you’re trying to collect your thoughts, but…” His voice cracked slightly, the vulnerability evident in his tone. “I can’t help it. I miss you so much I felt like I was gonna die.”
The sincerity in his words struck you like a bolt of lightning. It pierced through the confusion and doubt that had clouded your mind before you left him a few days ago.
You smiled, walking up to him and pulling him into a tight hug. Seungcheol hugged you back, gripping you so tight that it felt like you would soon melt into his very skin. With his tight embrace and the soft, slow kiss that followed, you knew you were ready to fight for your love, no matter the challenges that lay ahead.
Your family took to Seungcheol like they’d known him for a long time. Watching him charm his way through conversations with your parents, sharing laughs with your siblings, you couldn’t help but feel pride swell in your chest. Seungcheol fit in effortlessly, his laughter echoing alongside theirs, his smile as warm and familiar as home itself. He would glance over at you, eyes shining with that unmistakable spark, and your heart would skip every time.
That evening, you invited him out for a walk after dinner, where he wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close as he murmured your name again and again. His voice was soft, as if every syllable of your name was a song he needed to sing.
“You’ll be sick of that name if you don’t stop saying it,” you chided softly as you both settled on a park bench.
“You think so?” he asked, genuinely curious. “That can’t happen.”
You grinned as you watched him zip his mouth. When he glanced at you and saw you smiling, his eyes softened with immense affection. You took the chance to make fun of him. “You like me that much?”
Seungcheol didn’t say anything, instead he let out a long sigh of what sounded like relief and helplessness. That made you raise an eyebrow. “Okay, that’s too much. You’re exaggerating at this point.”
“Am I?” he questioned, more to himself. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I’m so obsessed with you.”
“I think you’re trying to say you love me,” you quipped, leaning on his chest and basking in his warmth.
“Yes. Fuck that. I do,” he replied, tightening his arms around you and kissing the top of your head. “It’s true that I’m obsessed with you though.”
When it was time to return to the city, Seungcheol was practically vibrating with excitement. He bade your family goodbye, leaving with a promise to visit over the holidays. You sat in the train with him, reading a book with your head on his shoulder while he answered emails on his tablet.
Back in the city, your relationship reverted back to its usual steady course, navigating days of blissful highs and small, inevitable disagreements. Dinners were still a regular thing, though instead of the restaurants, you spent more of it in your homes, sharing home-cooked meals. You cooked together most of the time, laughter echoing in the kitchen as you worked together with ease. Sometimes, his busy schedule left him tired and withdrawn, but he’d still text you, asking about your day, eager to connect even in the smallest of ways. And whenever you argued, his sincerity cut through the tension—he’d listen, apologize if needed, and somehow make everything feel right again.
Your days were made special by small, loving gestures: the way he’d bring you your favorite coffee, or how he’d lean in to whisper something funny during a crowded gathering. You often made him his favorite food, even helping him keep a tidy appearance every day at work. He had sworn that he never needed sunscreen at work, but since you made him use some, Seungcheol has never stopped buying it regularly.
Through it all, he treated you the same—if anything, with more care and respect than ever before. Every little moment, every shared smile, built a quiet foundation of trust and affection, one that felt stronger with each passing day.
And today, as the glow of candlelight flickered across the apartment, you swayed gently with Seungcheol, your arms wrapped loosely around his shoulders, soft music filling the room. It had been a perfect evening: the surprise dinner, his careful planning, and the way he looked at you as though he couldn’t believe you were really there with him.
He held you close, his hands settling comfortably at your waist, pulling you just a little nearer. “Did you like the dinner?” he murmured, his breath warm against your hair.
“It was wonderful,” you replied, resting your head against his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart. Then, with a smirk, you looked up at him. “But if you’re planning to propose right now, please don’t. I’m not ready to even talk about it.”
He chuckled, his laugh vibrating against you as he shook his head. “Relax, I’m not proposing,” he said, his eyes crinkling with amusement. “We’re not there yet. We still need plenty of time to figure things out.”
You were relieved to hear that, but even with his agreement, the idea was taking shape in your mind. You realized that you couldn’t imagine a future where he wasn’t beside you, bringing out a side of yourself that you’d thought had faded long ago. He was patient, steadfast, and the way he looked at you told you he was here to stay, whether or not there was a ring.
“I love you, Seungcheol,” you whispered, almost to yourself. “Before this, I thought I’d never find love again. I’d convinced myself that I was… I don’t know, incapable of this, given my history. I told myself that there’d never be anyone who would fit.” You hesitated, wondering if he would understand, if he could feel what you couldn’t quite say.
Seungcheol’s hand gently tilted your chin up so your eyes met his. “I don’t believe that for a second,” he said softly. “You were always going to find someone. I just got lucky that it was me.”
The corners of your mouth lifted, a warmth spreading through your chest. He was right there, looking at you as if you were all that mattered. This was more than just a moment, more than just the fleeting connection you had once feared it to be. Choi Seungcheol had somehow become the unexpected twist in your life, the chapter you hadn’t known you needed. And as the two of you continued to dance, you realized with quiet certainty that this was just the real beginning—your beginning, together.
[fin]
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Seungcheol and yn song is fast forward
do you mean fast forward by somi? bc a few hours after posting plot twist, i heard that song from my sister's bedroom and I was like "WAAAIT? THIS IS LITERALLY HBH SEUNGCHEOL!"
#my sister looked at me weird#she asked what hbh was and i told her to forget it#i'm an undercover writer lmao no one in my family knows I actually post my works somewhere
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Just finished plot twist. I cried so much, thanks a lot lol but seriously I loved it. I was so excited for this one, I knew it would be extra special! And mingyu again omg lol
THANK YOUUU! Also yeah mingyu... lmao it's an inside joke atp
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OH MY GOD OH MY GOD I just finished reading plot twist and I noticed that this time Seungcheol is the one who says he's obsessed with reader?????? She didn't have to say it herself????? Seungcheol straight up just admits it????? I dont know if you wrote it that way on purpose but OH MY FREAKIJG GOD I LOVE YOUR WRITING SO MUCH!
i didn't think anyone would notice but AAAAAAH! I kept going back to the previous chapters to see how I could better write Plot Twist and I found that she often teased them about being obsessed with her (didn't realize it was a recurring thing until I reread the first three)
i really appreciate you noticing something so minor. thanks a lot!
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D-DAYYYYYYYYY
I KNOOOOOWWW. PLOT TWIST IS HERE!
It's a bit late because I thought I'd already put it in my queue but... oh well. ANYWAY, I'm so glad and sad that this is over. I'm gonna miss working on this so much. Hiphop line is like the loml. I hope you like it! Thanks to everyone who looked forward to it! I got five people in my asks wondering when it was coming lmao. ily guys sm istg
#end of an era fr#i may or may not be considering bonus parts here and there#look forward to it but please don't pressure me huhu I'm just a girl
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Plot Twist | c.sc (18+)
A chance encounter blossoms into a whirlwind romance when you become enchanted by the enigmatic stranger—Choi Seungcheol. As you spend more time together, one question lingers: could he be the unexpected plot twist that changes your story forever?
one | two | three | four | five
Genre: strangers to lovers, smut Pairing: Choi Seungcheol/Scoups x afab!Reader Warnings: mature themes, explicit sexual content (18+) Notes: 24k words. Last part of the Heartbreak Hotel series, but it can be read as a standalone fic. Listening to Plot Twist by NIKI. Finally down to that last part! I loved working on this fic. Kinda sad now that it is over. Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. I do not know them personally and do not claim they would ever behave like they were portrayed in this story.
Playlist: Plot Twist by NIKI, Nobody Gets Me by SZA, long story short by Taylor Swift
When Choi Seungcheol first arrived at the hotel, you pegged him as just another rich man passing through—the noble charisma he was exuding made that clear. But unlike most guests, he hadn’t just come to book a room. He had asked for something far more unusual—stories about your past relationships.
At first, you thought he might be a writer, searching for inspiration for his next novel. But then he handed you his card and, no, he wasn’t a writer. He was a young CEO of a holding company. That alone was impressive, but his request? Odd, to say the least.
Then again, what did you have to lose? All you had to do was share a few stories from your past and pocket the fee he offered. You could even make up the most dramatic story ever and he’d probably bite. Yet you found yourself being completely honest, revealing parts of your life you hadn’t thought about in years.
You told him about your first real heartbreak with a guy who wasn’t even your official boyfriend. You spoke about an unforgettable relationship you had with the most breathtaking man you’d ever known. And you relived the time when your own insecurities ruined what was beautiful and perfect.
“I actually skipped the depression part of my breakup with Mingyu,” you confessed, rolling your eyes at your own expense. “It was kinda embarrassing telling a stranger all that. But I had a feeling you could see through me.”
“Not really, but I figured,” he shrugged, sipping his drink. There was a knowing look on his face—one that he didn’t bother to hide. “And honestly, I didn’t mind. I was a stranger after all. I was surprised you told me anything at all.”
You chuckled, shaking your head. “Yeah, well, I guess I needed to talk about that stuff more than I thought.”
“So,” he said, leaning forward with genuine curiosity, “is there anyone else?”
You paused. “That’s it. That’s all of them.”
He raised an eyebrow. “You never dated much, huh?”
“No, not really,” you said, laughing. “There are others but it's not worth telling. They were either so-so, just passing through, or, you know... toxic.”
“Hmm. I see.” Seungcheol reached into his jacket and pulled out his wallet. He slid out two checks, handing them to you. You took it and your eyes widened slightly at the numbers on them.
“This is... a lot,” you stammered. “Surely, my stories aren’t worth this much.”
He met your gaze, his expression unreadable. “I disagree. But if you think so…” He nodded at the checks still in your hand. “Consider it a tip for your—remarkable—room service.”
You couldn’t help but laugh. “Except, we didn’t even have it in the room, did we?”
“We could have,” he said smoothly. “But you weren’t interested in seeing my room.”
You raised an eyebrow, intrigued by his shift in tone. “Is that your way of inviting me to your room, Mr. Choi?”
He tilted his head slightly, a hint of a smirk tugging at his lips. “No. But now that you mention it... maybe it is.”
You hummed, biting your lower lip. “And here I thought you’d be the assertive type.”
“Well, I was raised to have manners, but if you’re into assertive men then.” Seungcheol’s demeanor shifted in an instant. His eyes, once playful, turned sharp, commanding. “Come join me in my room.”
Your heart skipped a beat. And the way he said it made your skin tingle. You swallowed, trying to keep your voice steady. “Okay.”
Seungcheol’s suite was spacious and immaculately tidy. Though the interior resembled every other suite in the hotel—neutral tones, minimalist decor—you couldn’t stop your eyes from looking around the space he’d been staying at for the past two days. Sure enough, there were almost no signs of him anywhere—not a stray jacket, a personal belonging—nothing that would give you the slightest clue about who he was or what kind of life he led outside this hotel.
“More champagne?” Seungcheol offered, motioning to the bottle of champagne sitting on a bucket of ice. He didn’t wait for you to respond, reaching for it and pouring some of the sparkling liquid into the glass. The soft clink of the bottle against the flute felt almost loud in the otherwise quiet room.
“Thanks,” you said softly, taking the glass he handed you as you sat down.
You didn’t need more champagne, not really. But the cool bubbles offered a welcome distraction. Anything to give your hands something to do, and your mind something to focus on other than the thick tension swirling between you both.
You took a slow sip, eyes flitting to the abstract painting on the wall—blotches of color, indistinct shapes that blurred the longer you stared. But no matter how much you tried to focus on the artwork, you could still feel Seungcheol’s gaze on you.
He’s the one who asked me to come here, you thought, fingers tracing the rim of your glass. He should say something.
You didn’t know exactly what you were expecting when you agreed to join him in his room—but you do know that the conversation part was over. There was nothing left to talk about, this time right now was not for talking. You couldn’t trust yourself to look at him, afraid that meeting his gaze would confirm what you already knew—the desire building between you both, the unspoken question lingering in the air.
Seungcheol shifted on the couch across from you, the sound of fabric brushing against leather making your heart race. You wanted to ask him what he was thinking, but the words got stuck in your throat. Instead, you took another sip of champagne, more to keep your hands occupied than anything else.
It felt like an eternity passed before his voice finally broke through the tension.
“Come here,” he said, low and commanding, his tone sending a ripple of warmth down your spine.
“Yes,” you blurted out, standing up almost too quickly because your body was responding before your mind could catch up. You crossed the space between you in seconds, your heart racing in your chest, as though you had been waiting for that very invitation all along.
Seungcheol’s eyes were dark as he tugged lightly at your hand, pulling you down onto his lap. Your legs straddled his, your arms instinctively wrapping around his neck. And as you stared into his eyes, a mutual understanding passed between you without having to say a single word.
With one hand, he cupped the back of your head, drawing you in until his lips met yours. His lips were warm and firm, and the moment they touched yours, everything inside you unraveled. The knot of tension that had been coiled in your stomach loosened, sending heat through your entire body as his hand traveled down your back.
But just as quickly, you pulled away, breathless. “I—uh… I think we’re moving too fast,” you muttered, trying to collect your thoughts.
Seungcheol nodded. “Yeah, too fast,” he said, though his eyes remained fixed on your lips.
For a moment, the two of you sat in silence, the tension between you crackling like electricity. Then, without thinking, you leaned in again, your lips meeting his with more urgency this time, more need. The kiss was hungrier now, both of you pushing against the boundary you had just set, as though the pull between you was impossible to resist.
His hands found your waist, fingers curling into your skin as he pulled you closer, his body pressing against yours. But again, the rational part of your mind kicked in, and you broke away, laughing breathlessly.
“Definitely too fast,” you whispered, though you made no effort to move away.
“Definitely,” Seungcheol agreed, his voice low, amusement flickering in his eyes as he kept his hands on your waist.
And yet, before you could stop yourself, your lips were on his again, the heat between you too consuming to fight. This time, neither of you pulled away. You let the moment stretch out, giving in to the pull as words fell away and your bodies did all the talking.
You were back at your usual spot at the front desk the next day, almost as if everything was completely normal, as though nothing of note had happened the night before. It didn’t help that the hotel was quiet with barely any people coming in, so your mind kept slipping back to Seungcheol. His intense kisses, his tender touches, the rush of heat that coursed through your veins, the ecstatic high—all of it was still fresh, vivid as if it had left a permanent mark on you. You caught yourself smiling for no reason, or at least, no reason that anyone here could understand.
“Are you alright?” Elena asked as she passed the front desk, her sharp gaze narrowing when she saw your flustered expression.
“Huh? I’m fine. What’s up?” you responded, hoping you didn’t sound too defensive.
“You’re flushed,” she noted with a raised eyebrow. “You look like you’re coming down with something,” she added, giving you a suspicious glance before walking off.
You touched your face, realizing with a start that your cheeks were warm—whether from embarrassment or the memories swirling in your head, you couldn’t tell. Pulling out your phone, you opened the camera app to check your reflection, only to be greeted with a slight flush coloring your skin. You stared at your reflection for a moment, wondering how much of last night’s excitement was still etched into your features.
Before you could think too much about it, the telephone rang, snapping you back to reality.
“This is the front desk. How may I help you?”
“Hi,” Seungcheol’s deep voice resonated from the other line, causing your heart to skip a beat. “Could you send housekeeping up? This suite is in dire need of tidying.”
His tone was casual, but there was a hint of mischief in it that made your stomach twist pleasantly. You knew exactly what he was implying. The memory of last night’s aftermath flashed through your mind—as if you hadn’t already been thinking about it all day.
You cleared your throat, trying to maintain a professional tone. “Absolutely. Housekeeping will be there shortly. Is there anything else, Mr. Choi?”
There was a brief pause on his end before his voice dropped a little lower. “Is it too early to request room service?”
Your heartbeat hastened, knowing full well that he wasn’t just talking about food. You could almost picture the smirk he must have had on his face, enjoying how easily he could fluster you.
“Have a good day, sir,” you replied, brushing him off in the most polite way possible before hanging up the phone.
You were still grinning to yourself when the phone rang again. Glancing at the telephone, you didn’t even have to guess who it was. You picked up the receiver.
“This is the front desk. How may I help you?” You kept your tone as professional as possible, but the smile was hard to hide.
“I know you’re thinking about me,” came Seungcheol’s teasing voice, playful and smooth.
Your breath hitched as you tried to suppress a laugh. “Whatever are you talking about, Mr. Choi? It’s inappropriate to speak to staff this way during work hours,” you chided playfully.
“You’re right. I forgot my manners for a second,” he replied, the humor in his voice evident. “I just woke up and I am starving, so I was thinking of actually ordering room service.”
“You just woke up?”
“Yeah. Alone, but somehow, I had a feeling someone was here with me but they sneaked out came morning light,” he replied, still teasing.
You raised an eyebrow, enjoying the playful banter. “Maybe because they have a job and said job requires them to wake up and get ready by eight in the morning?”
“I figured. Still, it would’ve been nice to get a proper goodbye.”
“Didn’t wanna disturb you,” you replied in a low voice, your index finger drawing circles on the desk in front of you. “Anyway, work hours,” you said, more to yourself than to him.
You tried to get back into professional mode. “Why don’t you just eat in the restaurant? It’s much more comfortable down there—and you won’t be in the way of housekeeping.”
There was a brief pause, and then he chuckled softly. “Are you allowed to tell guests what to do?”
You laughed, shaking your head at the playfulness in his tone. “No, technically not. We’re supposed to cater to their every need, but since I know you, I’ll take my chances and tell you what to do.”
“Oh, so we’re at that level now?” he teased. “You think you can boss me around now?”
“Only because I know you’ll listen,” you shot back, unable to resist the smile tugging at your lips. “I’ve got a good read on you, Mr. Choi.”
“I don’t know about that,” Seungcheol hummed, amusement thick in his voice. “Maybe I’ll just stay up here and starve, wait for housekeeping to finish.”
“Or you could go downstairs and eat like a normal person,” you retorted. “How about that instead?”
He chuckled again, and you could almost hear the smile in his voice. “Alright, alright. I’ll head down.”
“Good. I’ll have the restaurant expect you,” you replied, feeling satisfied.
“Mm-hm. But don’t think this means I’m done with you for the day,” he added, his tone lower, more suggestive. “We’ll pick this up later.”
Your heart skipped a beat at the promise in his voice, but you managed to keep your composure. “I’ll take you up on that. Enjoy your meal, Mr. Choi.”
“Thank you,” he said before hanging up, leaving you grinning like a fool at the front desk.
The day had dragged on slower than usual. Being in a remote area meant there weren’t many guests, so it was quiet—almost too quiet. After taking care of a handful of check-ins in the morning, you spent the afternoon fielding calls, helping with some basic concierge tasks, and trying not to think about the previous night with Seungcheol. It was hard to concentrate with his voice still ringing in your ears from the teasing call earlier, and the stillness of the hotel only amplified your wandering thoughts.
As the evening rolled around, you were grateful to finally be clocking out. You grabbed your things and made your way out of the front desk, ready to head out when a familiar figure appeared from the corner of your eye.
Seungcheol stood there, casual yet polished as ever, with his hands tucked into his pockets. His presence was magnetic, and you could feel your coworkers’ eyes darting toward him and then back to you in curiosity.
“Going somewhere?” Seungcheol asked smoothly, his smile playful as he leaned casually against the counter.
“Just clocking out,” you replied, trying to sound composed despite the flutter in your chest.
“Well, since you're off the clock… how about you join me for dinner?” His invitation was simple, but the implication made your pulse quicken.
You hesitated for a moment, feeling the intrigued stares of your coworkers lingering on the both of you. But the thought of spending another evening in his company was too tempting to resist.
“Sure,” you said, keeping your tone light, though your heart was racing. “But first, I need to change.”
“Alright,” he chimed, blinking slowly. “You can take your time. I’ll wait for you at the restaurant.”
As you made your way toward the employee exit, you passed the kitchen, where Leo, one of the chefs, caught sight of you. His grin was playful as he leaned on the doorframe.
“Somebody’s got a boyfriend,” Leo asked with a teasing lilt, wiggling his eyebrows. “After all this time, and after all the guests who tried to sweep you off your feet, someone has finally tickled your fancy huh?”
Drea, another kitchen staff, appeared beside him. “Looks like it. They’d been hanging out all weekend.”
You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the smile tugging at your lips. “I’m just making a friend, guys. There’s no need to be all giddy about it.”
“Sure, sure,” Leo chuckled as he turned back to the stove. “Make as many ‘friends’ as you want.”
Drea fell into step with you as you walked toward the exit, lowering her voice to a whisper. “So… I guess your ‘friend’ let you crash at his place last night, huh?”
You blinked in surprise. “What? What are you talking about?”
She giggled softly. “I saw you sneaking back into your quarters at the crack of dawn, sugar.”
You grinned, waving her off with a laugh and gesturing for her to keep it down. Drea mimed zipping her lips before heading back to her tasks, letting you continue on your way in peace.
The restaurant had a cozy ambiance, with warm lighting and soft music playing in the background. As you settled into your seat across from Seungcheol, the enticing aroma of food filled the air, making your stomach growl.
“What’s the best thing you’ve ever eaten here?” Seungcheol asked, leaning back in his chair as he scanned the menu.
“Honestly, I’m not sure,” you replied, running your finger along the edge of the menu. “I don’t eat here unless I can’t help it.”
His eyes sparkled with mischief. “So, I’m your first real dinner date at this place? How flattered am I?”
“Don’t get ahead of yourself,” you laughed lightly, but your heart raced at the playful glint in his gaze. “It’s just dinner.”
“Last night begs to differ,” he commented, making you gasp audibly.
Before you could say anything, Seungcheol gestured for the waiter who approached immediately. You ordered a rich pasta dish while Seungcheol opted for the steak.
“Am I making you uncomfortable?” he asked after the waiter left.
You shook your head. “No, not at all. I’m just not the type to openly talk about… you know, my activities in the bedroom.”
“Alright. I’ll keep that in mind,” he said, smiling as he watched you curiously. “What do you usually do when you’re off the clock?”
You shrugged, feeling a twinge of embarrassment. “Not much. Just… binge-watch shows or read.”
Seungcheol chuckled. “A woman of refined tastes, I see.”
“Hey, everyone needs a little escapism,” you shot back, your cheeks warming. “What about you, Mr. CEO? What keeps you busy?”
His expression shifted slightly, the playful facade dropping just a notch. “Well, I run a holding company that invests in other businesses.”
You leaned in, intrigued. “That sounds interesting. What does that involve exactly?”
Seungcheol took a sip of his drink before answering. “We invest in companies we think have potential and help them grow. Sometimes we acquire them and either hand them over to other people to manage or strip them down for parts.”
“Sounds awful for the owners,” you remarked, unable to hide the frown forming on your lips. The thought of someone losing their livelihood sent a chill through you.
Seungcheol shrugged, his expression neutral. “That’s just the way it is. We usually only acquire companies on the brink of bankruptcy. It’s better than losing everything, right?”
“What do you even gain from a failing company?” you asked, tilting your head in confusion. The whole business seemed ruthless, a world away from your warm hotel lobby.
Seungcheol chuckled, a hint of challenge in his eyes. “Are you seriously enjoying this conversation?”
“Not really,” you admitted with a laugh. “But there’s nothing else to discuss.”
“Then let’s talk about you,” he said, leaning closer, his eyes searching yours. “Why are you still in hospitality?”
You felt your defenses rise. “Hey, that’s straight-up prying into someone’s personal business.”
“Weren’t you prying into mine just now?” he challenged, crossing his arms.
“Not the same! I was asking about how you make money; you’re asking about my life choices,” you shot back with a pout.
“I can see why you wanted to be a journalist,” he said, his voice softer now.
“What? How?” you asked, genuinely surprised.
“I just know,” he replied, an enigmatic smile on his face.
“Okay, Mr. Can See Through Me,” you laughed, but deep down, you wondered how much he could actually see—and if it was more than you intended to show.
After what happened with Seungcheol, you figured you’d be back in his suite once or twice more while he stayed in the hotel. When you think about it, like really think about it, it felt strange to hook up with a guest you’d known for only three days. But it didn’t bother you as much as you expected. Maybe because you’d already shared so much with him; intimate stories and personal memories that left you feeling vulnerable, strong, even a bit broken. Somehow, being with him physically felt minor compared to the depth of everything you’d revealed.
That said, you weren’t expecting to just keep sleeping with him the whole time. No. He was amazing—that was an understatement. And it wasn’t just because you hadn’t had any action in months; it was simply the truth. But Seungcheol didn’t seem like the type to put physical needs before familiarity.
“Good night, then,” he said, smiling as you both lingered in the hallway between the elevator and the employee exit.
“Good night, Mr. Choi,” you smiled back, trying to keep it light. “Thanks for dinner.”
“No problem. I had a great time,” he replied, closing the distance to place a gentle kiss on your cheek. In your ear, he whispered, “And please, just Seungcheol.”
“Sorry, I keep forgetting that,” you chuckled softly. For a moment, you stood there, eyes holding each other’s, as if something else was left unsaid. You weren’t sure what exactly, but you could tell he felt it too.
“Go on, then,” you prompted, nodding toward the elevator.
“No. You can go first. Don’t worry about me.”
You shrugged, reluctant but trying not to show it. “Alright. See you next time.”
“Tomorrow,” he corrected with a grin. “Hope you’re not sick of me yet.”
You laughed. “Not yet, but we’re getting there,” you teased. Leaning forward, you brushed a quick kiss over his lips.
Seungcheol’s hands settled on your waist just as you started to pull away, his eyes searching yours. You grinned, tapping his arms twice to signal he should let go.
“Would you like to—”
“No, thank you,” you interrupted a bit too quickly. His face fell, and seeing it made you laugh. “I would’ve if you’d asked earlier.”
He sighed, shaking his head with a small smile tugging at his lips. “Didn’t want to overstep.”
“I know. And I appreciate that.” You walked toward your exit, giving him another smile before pushing the door open. “Good night, then.”
“Good night,” he replied with a small wave.
The next day, the morning felt lighter somehow. You went to work in high spirits, smiling at coworkers more than usual, even humming a song to yourself while you were sitting at the quiet front desk, scanning the deserted lobby.
You caught sight of Seungcheol a few times throughout your shift. Once in the lobby, sitting by the window with his laptop and a coffee, his expression focused and distant; and later, he walked by while in a quiet exchange with someone on the phone.
In those moments, he was just like any other guest, a charming yet distant stranger. Yet every time he passed by the front desk, his eyes would flicker up, a sweet smile plastered on his lips.
At the end of your shift, you found him waiting in the lobby, leaning against the marble pillar with his hands tucked into his pockets. “Dinner?” he asked, his tone casual yet warm.
“Sure,” you replied, smiling. “Give me a few minutes?”
“Take your time. I’ll wait for you in the restaurant,” he said easily.
“Alright then.”
You and Seungcheol got to know each other more this way. During work hours, he didn’t cross any lines, and neither did you. It was almost like an unspoken rule between you—when you were on the clock, you were strictly concierge and guest.
But in the evenings, he would swing by the front desk, waiting for you to clock out to invite you to dinner. Dinner became a quiet ritual for the two of you, a rhythm that felt almost natural despite how suddenly it had started. On the second evening, Seungcheol had ordered in from a local restaurant he claimed had the best ramen in the area. You laughed when you saw the spread of takeout boxes arranged across his room’s coffee table, a bottle of wine between them.
“Who told you this place had the…” you made air quotes, “ ‘best ramen’ around here?”
“Uh…” He narrowed his eyes, thinking as he uncorked the wine. “The internet?” he said, just as the bottle popped open.
“The internet? Right,” you teased, sinking into the armchair across from him. “Do you always look up best ramen places online?”
“Not usually,” he admitted, handing you a glass of wine. “But I was craving something more familiar than steak and pasta.”
The rich, savory aroma of the ramen mingled with the scent of the wine, filling the room with a cozy warmth. You clinked glasses and sipped quietly, the casual laughter and teasing slipping in like it was second nature. Between bites, he asked about the town, and you shared stories—of slow nights at the hotel, odd guests, and a few personal memories you hadn’t thought about in a while.
The conversation flowed easily, often sidetracking into random topics that carried you late into the night. He asked you about more stories from your past, not always about relationships—just small things, places you’d always wanted to see, anecdotes from college, or dreams you’d put on hold.
At some point, you found yourself telling him about your old plan to be a journalist, how you’d gone through a whole phase of pitching stories to magazines, only to give it up when you didn’t hear back from any of them.
“You ever think about going back to it?” he asked, watching you with curiosity.
“Sometimes,” you admitted. “But I don’t know… it feels far-fetched now. I think I’ve lost the ‘spark’. Besides, this job is steady.”
“Steady is good, but there’s usually no progress in steady. No room for growth in a place that doesn’t challenge you.”
You glanced at him, surprised by his statement. He held your gaze and you could see the sincerity in his eyes that caught you off-guard. “I guess not,” you admitted softly.
He leaned back against the couch, his eyes holding yours. “How about doing what excites you? You know, taking risks and challenging yourself?”
You scoffed lightly, though his words hit a nerve. “Like running empires, taking over companies?” you quipped.
He raised a brow, his lips quirking into a playful smirk. “Something like that.”
And then the conversation turned light again. He kept surprising you in small ways. He’d remember details, ask questions that dug deeper than the usual surface-level chatter, and share a few of his own stories, mostly humorous or random, yet still holding a touch of mystery.
And after dinner, you put on a random TV show, but barely pay attention to it. His hand rested on your leg, and you could feel the warmth of his touch through your skin. At some point, he leaned in to kiss you, and the rest of the night became a blur of tangled sheets and stolen breaths.
It was unsettling how easy it felt, how natural it was to be with him. There was no awkwardness, no need for pretense. When you weren’t kissing, you were talking—about everything, really, but especially your dreams. Seungcheol kept pushing you, nudging you to think beyond the walls of the hotel.
“You’ve got something to say. And it’s about time you said it,” he’d told you once.
His belief in you always left you speechless for a moment. You didn’t need anyone to tell you that you were capable, but it felt good to be encouraged. Your friends and family, even Vernon, constantly encouraged you to pursue your passion. Only now were you realizing that you could have been unstoppable with their support if you weren’t so hung up on your own insecurities. You didn’t realize it then, but their belief in you was genuine, and they looked at you the same way Seungcheol did—as if they saw something in you that you hadn’t allowed yourself to see.
“You’re glowing these days,” one coworker had said, raising her eyebrows suggestively.
Drea couldn’t resist chiming in as you walked past the kitchen. “Dinner again tonight?” she asked, winking. “Must be some guest to get that kind of special treatment.”
You’d laughed it off, but there was a part of you that knew they weren’t entirely wrong. Something was shifting between you and Seungcheol—something that went beyond casual hangouts or even the growing physical intimacy. It was like you were slowly unraveling pieces of yourselves to each other, bit by bit, until there was nothing left to hide. He knew more about you, your past relationships, your fears, your dreams, than anyone else ever had.
And the pattern continued: dinner in his room, sometimes in the restaurant, laughter mixed with stolen kisses, and whispered conversations that lasted well into the night. The more time you spent together, the harder it became to ignore the growing connection between you.
And while the teasing at work stoked the fire, you brushed it off with a smile, trying not to think too hard about Seungcheol and everything that had happened between you. He was a guest, sooner or later, he’d go back where he belonged and he’d be nothing but a fever dream—someone who stirred up your usually mundane days in this hotel. It is best not to get too attached to someone who will eventually leave. Maybe you’d meet again, maybe not, but you’d remember the few days you spent with him—easily, no doubt because he was simply unforgettable.
You had just finished drying your hair when you heard soft knocks on your door. You glanced at the clock and frowned. No one ever came by this late. Opening the door a crack, you were met with the familiar grin of Seungcheol, leaning casually against the frame with that same mischievous glint in his eyes.
“What are you doing here?” you whispered, feeling both surprised and thrilled. “You’re not supposed to be here.”
He shrugged, a small, playful smile tugging at his lips. “Rules can’t be that strict if they let me get all the way up here.”
You couldn’t help but laugh, glancing behind him to make sure no one was around. “You’re lucky the night staff doesn’t usually do rounds here. Come in—before you get us both in trouble.”
As you closed the door behind him, he looked around with a curious gaze, hands in his pockets. The small, modest space suddenly felt even smaller with him there.
“So, this is where you retreat after charming all the guests in the lobby,” he mused, taking in the sparse decor and impersonal furnishings.
“I think this is like, three times smaller than your suite,” you quipped, feeling a little self-conscious.
“Yeah, but it’s much cozier,” he replied, flashing a warm smile.
His eyes softened as he looked around, and for a moment, you watched him walk around your space. Then your stomach growled—a loud, unmistakable sound in the silence. You both froze before dissolving into laughter.
“Hungry?” he asked, barely containing his amusement.
“Starving,” you admitted, covering your face with your hands. “I skipped dinner because you weren’t there to pick me up.”
“Seriously?” he scowled, concern evident in his voice.
You burst out laughing. “No, silly. I had dinner with some coworkers but I didn’t eat much.”
He nodded thoughtfully. “Oh, I thought you were serious. I was in a virtual meeting with some people earlier so I couldn’t treat you to dinner.”
“Hey, it’s totally fine,” you said briskly, shaking your hands. “You don’t have to explain yourself.”
“Alright but we should still do something about that,” he replied, pointing at your belly. “How about a late-night snack?”
“I could go for that,” you agreed, grinning. “But only if you’re okay with whatever random ingredients are lying around the hotel kitchen.”
A few minutes later, you led him into the quiet kitchen. Inside, the quiet hum of the fridge filled the room as you checked the shelves for ingredients available for employees. Seungcheol leaned on the counter, watching with amused fascination as you assembled a simple meal from what you could find.
“You know, I think you’re a little too comfortable in here,” he remarked, eyebrows raised as he watched you pull down a pan with a smirk.
You shrugged, turning on the stove and tossing some ingredients into the pan. “Just another perk of the job,” you replied lightly. “Besides, if anyone asks, I’ll say it’s for an important guest.” You gave him a wink.
He laughed, and as you stirred the ingredients together, he kept up a steady stream of questions about your work, your routines, and little quirks about the hotel you hadn’t realized you’d noticed. You could feel his gaze on you, warm and steady, and for a moment, you forgot about the quiet kitchen and the hotel entirely.
When the food was ready, you both sat down at the small table, sharing bites and laughter as though this were something you did every day. He listened closely, chiming in with his own stories, asking questions that went deeper than you’d expected. You found yourself opening up easily, letting him in on things you usually kept tucked away.
Once the plates were cleared, Seungcheol reached for the dishes. “I’ll take care of these,” he said, standing and moving to the sink before you could protest.
“Sure, but…” You trailed off, watching as he rolled his sleeves up to his elbows, muscles flexing in his forearms. You’d seen those arms several times before—even felt them holding you close—but somehow, it still left you speechless how effortlessly captivating he was.
A sudden urge to close the distance between you overcame you and it was too tempting to resist. So you did, slipping behind him and wrapping your arms around his waist. He chuckled as he rinsed the dishes with care.
“You’re not very good at standing idle, are you?” he murmured.
“Not when I have such a sexy man washing the dishes for me,” you replied, resting your head against his back. His back vibrated when he chuckled.
“Oh, is that so?” he asked, amused, just as he set the plates aside and peeled off his gloves. Turning to face you, he wrapped his arms around you, his eyes meeting yours. “You’re pretty sexy yourself. And your cooking’s top-notch,” he added, lifting your chin to give you a quick kiss.
“What can I say? I have many talents,” you teased.
Seungcheol pressed his thumb on your lower lip, staring at it with desire in his eyes. “About that sleeping quarter of yours,” he murmured, voice lowering. “Think you can keep it quiet in there?”
You bit your lip, shaking your head with a soft laugh. “Definitely not.”
He hummed thoughtfully. “We’d better not stay there then,” he said with an almost playful glint in his eyes. “Do you have work tomorrow?”
“My shift starts at noon,” you whispered.
“Good. You can sleep in,” he grinned before pulling you into a deep, feverish kiss.
Back in his suite, laughter turned into whispered words, and conversation faded into shared warmth. He watched as you moved to his bed, peeling away your clothes one by one before sprawling across the bed, hair fanned out against the pillows, a mischievous gleam in your eyes. He stood there a minute, enjoying the view with half-lidded eyes.
“Are you just going to stand there?” you lilted, propping yourself on your elbows, watching his reactions as you spread your legs open for him. “Or do I need to invite you properly?”
Your confidence shot through the roof when you saw how he clenched his jaw and narrowed at the sight of you. He chuckled darkly, crossing the room with deliberate slowness, pausing at the edge of the bed. “Proper invitation, huh?” he murmured, leaning down, his face hovering just above yours. “Maybe I’m waiting for you to make the first move.”
“This is my first move,” you replied in a low voice, trying not to just go ahead and kiss him right there. You arched a brow, and with a grin, reached up, looping your arms around his neck to pull him down beside you.
Seungcheol closed the distance, capturing your lips in a torrid kiss. You swear you could feel the tension crackle in the air as he trailed a slow line of kisses from your jaw down to your collarbone, each one making your heartbeat quicken.
Your eyes met again, just as his hand cupped your naked sex, making you bite your lip. His laughter softened the intensity as he whispered, “How long can you stay up?”
You tutted, shaking your head playfully as you unbuttoned his shirt. “Don’t start making promises you can’t keep now.”
“You think I can’t keep it?” he challenged, putting pressure between your legs. Your body arched ever so slightly.
“How would I know if we’re just gonna keep talking like this?” you retorted, reaching down to grab the erection underneath his pants.
“Are you always this impatient?” he chuckled before leaning in to kiss you again.
You melted together, movements slow and gentle at first, then deepening as his hands roamed your body. He didn’t miss a spot, touching every crevice with his hands, kissing every sensitive spot, and sucking where he knew you’d love to be sucked.
He kept his promise—not a wink of sleep was had that night until dawn came through the windows. You’d given up at that point and just passed out next to him on the bed.
When you were trying to leave Seungcheol’s suite late the next morning, he had given you a soft kiss on the lips, bidding you goodbye but his arms were tight around your waist, unwilling to let go.
“You seriously need to let me go now,” you chided softly, though you weren’t making a move to leave either. “Elena’s gonna kill me.”
“Then she’d be in jail for murder. I’m sure she doesn’t want that,” he quipped, biting your earlobe softly.
You giggled, pushing his face away. “Stop. I’m serious. I have work to do.”
Seungcheol pouted his already pouty lips and gave you the saddest puppy face you’d ever seen from a man. He even tilted his head for a dramatic effect.
“Is that the best you can do?” you sneered, rolling your eyes. “It’s not working.”
His face softened back to his usual, easygoing look. “This is why you should leave this job.”
“No, this isn’t.”
“No, but this could be," he shot back.
You chuckled, letting him pull you back into his arms. You settled against him, knowing you really should go but letting yourself stay in that comfortable quiet until the very last possible second.
When you finally rushed out, you had to practically sprint to your quarters to shower and throw on your uniform. Even as you hurried to the lobby, Seungcheol’s words and the warmth of his last kiss lingered in the back of your mind.
You settled into your morning routine, shaking off the haze of the late night, but two hours into your shift, you caught sight of Seungcheol stepping out of the elevator hauling his luggage while looking as composed and put-together as ever. An unsettling sensation crept into your heart, causing it to beat rapidly in your chest.
“Leaving already?” you asked when he approached, struggling to keep your voice casual.
“Yeah,” he replied with a small smile. “Can’t avoid work forever.”
You nodded, trying to mask your disappointment. You’d known from the start that this was temporary, but the reality of him leaving still hit harder than you’d expected. “Well, I’m glad you stopped by to say goodbye,” you said, managing a small smile.
He tilted his head, gaze softening. “Doesn’t have to be goodbye, you know.”
“Huh?” You blinked, surprised. Seungcheol didn’t respond immediately. Instead, he pulled out his phone, tapped a few times, and a moment later, your own phone buzzed in your pocket. When you checked it, you saw a message from him. It was a link to a job posting.
“It’s a publishing company I’m investing in,” he explained. “They’re looking for new writers for their magazine,” he explained with a playful tilt to his tone. “I could make a call and help secure you a position there, but I don’t think you’d like that.”
You raised a brow jokingly. “Are you serious? I’d kill for an easy way in.”
“Really?” he asked, his eyebrows lifting slightly as if actually considering it.
“Of course not,” you laughed, shaking your head. “But… thank you. I’ll definitely check it out.”
“Good,” he said, slipping his hands into his pockets. “See you soon?”
You nodded, voice softening. “Maybe, if you ever find yourself back in town.”
“Or,” he countered, his smile widening, “if you find yourself in mine.”
You smirked, leaning in a little closer. “No promises, but I’ll keep you posted.”
“I’ll be waiting,” he murmured before pressing a lingering kiss to your lips, pulling back with a look you couldn’t quite read. “Take care, alright?”
“You too,” you whispered back. With a final glance, he picked up his bag and walked toward the doors. Watching him disappear, you glanced down at the job posting on your phone, your lips curving into a small smile.
The days that followed Seungcheol’s departure drifted by in a slow but steady routine. You returned to work, easing back into the usual rhythm of the hotel. Tasks that once kept you occupied now felt a little empty, missing the spark his presence brought. Although you kept in touch, neither of you could commit to a steady chat correspondence because you both had work to do.
The teasing began as soon as he left, of course. One morning in the break room, Drea and Clara from housekeeping cornered you with knowing smiles.
“So,” Drea began, leaning in with a smirk, “guess Mr. Loverboy had to hit the road?”
“Heartbroken already?” Clara teased, nudging you lightly.
Rolling your eyes, you tried to brush it off. “Please, I knew he was going to leave. He was here for business, not for… whatever you’re implying.”
“Uh-huh,” Drea said with a slow grin, “and all those late-night chats and ‘work dinners’ were totally normal, right?”
You felt the heat rising in your cheeks and huffed, trying to keep your cool. “Can we not do this right now?”
They both winced, and Drea placed a gentle hand on your shoulder. “Sorry, we’re just teasing. You looked a bit gloomy after he left.”
“I’m not. Maybe I’m just…” you trailed off, smiling sheepishly. “Maybe I’m just missing the ‘work dinners’, you know?”
They laughed, and you joined in, letting humor push away the gloom—even if only temporarily. As you returned to your duties, their words lingered, nudging a realization you’d been trying to ignore. Seungcheol had stirred something within you—a restlessness, a desire for something more than the steady routine you’d settled into at the hotel, this place far from home.
The days dragged and you buried yourself in mundane tasks. You updated records, tweaked guest files, and even took extra shifts, but the thoughts of what you wanted next kept creeping in. There were quiet moments when, mid-shift, you found yourself idly scrolling through the job posting he’d sent, rereading the requirements and trying to imagine what it would be like to actually take the leap.
In the quiet of your room, you’d take a pen and paper and scribble down short articles on random things: the day’s specials, trends in the hotel’s online promotions, even quirky stats like how many times housekeeping was called to the same suite. It was practice, a taste of what it might be like to write for real. The more you wrote, the stronger the pull grew to step beyond the winding roads of this small city.
Your coworkers noticed the change. Sometimes, they’d catch you smiling to yourself, drifting off mid-sentence, or jotting ideas on scrap paper between check-ins.
“You’ve got that ‘I’m making a big decision’ look,” teased Leo, always keen to know when something was brewing. “I’ve seen it a hundred times before. Spill it!”
You laughed, brushing it off at first, but as days went on, your secret plans came into focus. Each conversation—some encouraging, some bittersweet—helped you admit to yourself that maybe it was time to step forward. Even the strict, watchful General Manager Elena took notice.
One day, on an unsurprisingly slow afternoon, she called you into her office. When you entered, she had her glasses on, nose deep in some paperwork, but she looked up with a rare softness in her usually stern demeanor.
“I heard you’re considering leaving,” Elena said, getting straight to the point.
For a moment, you couldn’t find the right words. “Actually… yes. I’ve been thinking about it. There’s this job posting that might be… a better fit for what I want.”
She studied you, her expression unreadable. “That’s a shame,” she finally said. “You’re good at what you do here. But I understand. We all have paths we need to explore.”
It was strange hearing those words from Elena of all people—the one who seemed to keep everyone on a tight leash. You hadn’t expected her understanding, and her support only fueled your desire to follow through. Still, you didn’t make a decision right away. The idea had gotten so real, you could almost touch it, yet you kept putting it off.
“You’re still thinking about it?” Leo would ask, crossing his arms with a look that was half-concerned, half-excited.
“Yeah, but… it’s not easy to let go of something so familiar,” you’d admit, trying to make sense of it yourself.
Eventually, after more late nights of wondering and overthinking, you knew what you had to do. It took a deep breath and a lot of inner pep talks—you even came up with a small mantra for yourself—but you finally handed in your resignation to Elena. She accepted it with a knowing smile, and, much to your surprise, added, “You’ll be missed. We don’t get people like you often.”
They gave you a two-week transition period to train the new concierge. It was bittersweet, teaching someone else the ropes, walking them through routines and the hotel’s small quirks. You realized how much you’d grown attached to it all—the people, the quiet corners, the smell of fresh coffee in the lobby. Each day brought flashes of memory—Tony pulling you into yet another crazy story; Leo cooking up a storm during restocking season; late-night conversations with Drea; and the soft light filtering through the lobby as you’d start your early shifts. It was your life for the last seven months, and letting go felt like peeling away a part of yourself.
On your last day, you finished training your replacement and said your goodbyes, packing up the small personal items you’d kept at your station—a worn-out notebook, a stray earring you’d misplaced months ago, and a couple of pens. Standing at the door, you took a last, quiet look back at the lobby, thanking it silently for what it had given you. Then you stepped out of the hotel, feeling strangely sad and excited at the same time. It was time to open a new book. Hopefully, this one would have a different plot, and maybe, just maybe, a plot twist you so badly needed.
The train pulled into the city’s central station just as the sky softened into late afternoon shades. Stepping off with excitement and nerves twisting in your chest, you took a deep breath and pulled out your phone to dial Seungcheol. You hadn’t told him about your decision to move, and as the call connected, you wondered briefly if surprising him like this was a bit too sudden.
“Hi. How are you?” Seungcheol’s voice came through the receiver. You could hear a faint chatter on the other line and he said, “Excuse me,” to someone.
“I’m fine, where are you?” you asked, unable to stop the slight tremor in your voice.
“I’m here and there.” You could hear the sound of a door opening and closing. “This is a pleasant surprise. You never called during work hours. What’s up?”
“I just thought I should call you,” you replied, unable to stop grinning. “You did tell me to let you know if I ever find myself in your city.”
He didn’t say anything at first, just let out a soft chuckle that seemed to hold both relief and excitement. “Where are you?”
“At the station.”
“Don’t move. I’m coming to get you.”
The city loomed around you, humming with life and endless possibilities. For a moment, you stood in the crowd, letting the sound of distant conversations and the sharp aroma of fresh coffee sweep over you. It hit you then—this was a new chapter, and there was no going back.
Fifteen minutes later, Seungcheol’s familiar figure came into view, weaving effortlessly through the crowd. The moment he spotted you, his smile widened, and as soon as he was close enough, he swept you into a tight hug, burying his face in your shoulder.
“Aw,” you cooed, hugging him back. “Did you miss me?”
“You should’ve told me you were coming,” he murmured against your hair, his grip on you firm and almost possessive.
You laughed, pulling back just enough to look at him. “It was supposed to be a surprise.”
“Well, you nailed it,” he replied, leaning in to press his lips to yours. The kiss was deep, lingering, as if he’d been holding back all this time and could finally let it spill out. It felt like no time had passed at all since you’d last seen each other, yet there was a new energy—an excitement and sense of anticipation in the air between you.
The drive to his place was filled with teasing and sidelong glances, his hand never quite letting go of yours. Arriving at his penthouse, he wasted no time with pleasantries, trapping you in his arms as soon as you walked in and locking your lips together. His hands roamed your body, exploring familiar curves, while yours tangled in his hair, pulling him closer.
You left a trail of clothing on the floor as he guided you into the bedroom. With each kiss, you melted into him, feeling his heartbeat quicken against yours. You failed to notice the marvelous view of the cityscape stretching out under the setting sun, reflecting shades of orange and pink in the tall glass windows. The world outside simply faded into a blur, leaving just the two of you in a connection that was charged with all the longing that had built up during your time apart. As your bodies moved together, a sense of urgency guided you—each touch igniting a flame that had only been waiting for the right moment to burn.
When you finally caught your breath, lying intertwined in the soft glow of the fading sunlight, you stared at the ceiling with pleased smiles on your lips. The warmth wrapped around you like a soft blanket, and a comfortable silence settled between you.
Seungcheol reached for you, and you glanced at him, smiling as you scooted closer and tucked yourself into his side, resting your head on his shoulder. “So,” you started, grinning up at him, “do you mind if I stay with you for a little while? Just until I find my own place.”
His face shifted, the tiniest smirk tugging at his lips as he looked down at you. “Actually, I think it’d be smarter if you stayed until you got the job.” His hand slid down your back. “Then you can pick a place close to work and save yourself a long commute.”
The logic made sense, of course, but the glint in his eyes told you there might be more to his offer. “Or maybe you just want to spend time with me day in and day out. Be honest,” you teased, narrowing your eyes at him.
He laughed. “I was trying to be cool, but alright. I want you here with me everyday. That’s the truth.”
You rolled your eyes playfully. “You could at least continue pretending to be hard to get. You’re no fun.”
“What?” he asked, confusion written all over his face. “I thought you wanted honesty?”
“Whatever. No fun,” you said, fighting back a grin.
But inwardly, a warmth spread in your chest at the thought that he wanted you here—that he wanted you close. You didn’t know where this leap would take you, but sitting there with Seungcheol, the uncertainty felt like something you could embrace.
After Seungcheol gave you a quick tour, the two of you found yourselves tangled up on the couch again. His hands skimmed over your arms, your back, your thighs, tracing over your skin with a familiarity and a desire that sent your pulse racing. The TV murmured in the background, but his slow, deliberate kisses made the world feel quiet and distant.
Just as you were beginning to sink into that familiar haze, the sound of his phone ringing on the coffee table cut through the moment. You both glanced at it, sharing a look, but Seungcheol ignored it, his focus solely on you as he wrapped his arms tighter, pressing his lips to yours as he eased you down onto the plush couch. His hand slipped under your shirt, leaving a trail of warmth along your skin, and you couldn’t help but surrender to the pull of the moment, melting into him completely.
But the phone wouldn’t stop. The ringing resumed, persistent enough that eventually, you couldn’t help but let out a soft laugh, gently pushing him away. “Aren’t you gonna take that?”
“No,” he murmured against your skin, moving to kiss the sensitive spot near your collarbone. “Ignore it.”
Yet another ring, and you couldn’t help but laugh, giving him a playful push. “Take the call, Cheol. It seems important.”
With a sigh, Seungcheol pressed a quick kiss on your lips, and then moved to grab his phone. There was a slight furrow of annoyance on his face as he answered. “What is it?”
You were sitting so close that you could faintly but clearly hear the other person speaking. “Where did you run off to, man?”
“What is it?” Seungcheol repeated, ignoring the other guy and adding weight to his own question.
“Dude, you left in the middle of a meeting. The Takahashis were livid.”
Leaning back against the sofa, Seungcheol rolled his eyes as though this wasn’t worth his time. “Buy them out.”
The other voice paused, clearly taken aback. “What? I thought you wanted a partnership?”
“The man is senile, Josh. Can’t even remember his own son’s name. There’s no point partnering with someone who doesn’t know when it’s time to step down. Let’s buy them out.”
You could hear ‘Josh’ sighing on the other side. “Alright. But it won’t be easy to convince them after your little disappearing act.”
“I’m sure you’ll manage,” Seungcheol said with confidence. “Bring Yoon Jeonghan with you.”
“Alright. Is everything okay? Where are you? What was so important that you had to rush out like that?”
Seungcheol glanced at you, his gaze heavy with what seemed like an unspoken answer to his coworker’s question. The small smile that tugged at his lips told you exactly what he wanted to say without saying it. Rolling your eyes, you gave his arm a light slap.
“I’ll talk to you tomorrow,” Seungcheol said with a smile.
“Tomorrow? Dude, we have 4pm scheduled with the construction company. Don’t—”
Seungcheol ignored the rest of Joshua’s protests as he hung up and tossed the phone aside, refocusing his attention entirely on you. He pulled you back toward him, his lips finding yours as his arms wrapped around you in a familiar, easy embrace. But before he could deepen the kiss, you pressed a hand against his chest, pausing just long enough to catch your breath.
“Go back to work, Cheol,” you said, trying to keep your tone firm. “I can’t believe you ditched work for this.”
He gave a nonchalant shrug. “I’d rather be here.”
When he tried to kiss you again, you dodged, shaking your head with a grin. “I’m serious. You can’t just skip work whenever you want, even if you’re the CEO.”
“I thought being CEO means I can do just that?” he teased, watching your expression. When he saw your jaw drop in playful shock, he laughed. He took your hand, pressing it gently against his chest. “Alright, I’ll go. But only because you told me to,” he said, stealing another kiss.
You rolled your eyes and let him cup your cheek. “Are you sure you want me to go?” he asked.
“Yes. Stop being dramatic. I’ll be here when you get back.”
Seungcheol sighed, glancing at his watch for a second and turning back to you. “Alright, but I’ve got time before my next meeting. Anything you want to do before then?”
You thought for a moment, glancing at your bag. “Actually, yeah. Can you drop me off at an electronics store? I need to get a laptop.”
“Sure. Let’s go,” he invited, but instead of standing up, he lunged at you with a kiss that had you staying on the couch for a good five minutes.
The very next morning, Seungcheol sat across from you at the dining table, his coffee steaming as he watched you scroll through company profiles on your laptop. “It’s important to think about their vision, not just the job title or pay,” he said, tapping his fingers thoughtfully against his mug. “A company’s culture and goals say a lot about how they’ll treat you and how you'll grow there.”
You glanced up, catching the intensity in his gaze as he shared his thought process—like a glimpse into the inner world he often kept guarded. “When it comes to investing, I look for places that share my values or at least lean in the same direction. Even if they’re a little off, if there's room for alignment, and they have really good potential I give them a shot. But if it's a hard no from the start…” he shrugged, smiling a little. “Then it's not worth my time.”
“So, I should find a place that’s worth my time?”
He smiled. “Yes. If it’s worth you time, then it’s exactly where you fit.”
His words echoed in your mind as you stepped into the publishing house for the interview. The receptionist greeted you warmly, and as you waited, you couldn’t help feeling lighter—more confident. For the first time in a long time, you felt like you were making choices that aligned with who you were and who you wanted to become.
Over the next few days, Seungcheol’s advice seemed to anchor you, guiding your approach to each application and interview. Whenever he was out for work, you spent your time filling out forms, researching companies, and drafting cover letters. And with each application, you felt a step closer to rediscovering a part of yourself that had gone quiet.
One evening, you found yourself staring at your laptop, a small smile spreading across your face. It hit you suddenly how long it had been since you’d felt the drive to pursue something. The doubts that had once held you back seemed far away now, chased away by the growing belief that you still had what it took to make this work.
When the rejection email arrived, it hit a bit harder than you’d expected. You stared at the screen for a moment, feeling the disappointment settle in. This was the company Seungcheol had suggested—the one that aligned with everything you’d been hoping for.
Seungcheol found you still at your laptop when he got home, catching sight of the email over your shoulder. Without a word, he placed a comforting hand on your back, leaning in close enough that his warmth almost made the disappointment a little easier to bear. “Hey,” he murmured gently, his thumb tracing soothing circles. “These things happen. A rejection doesn’t define you. If anything, it just means that place wasn’t ready for someone like you.”
You sighed, leaning into him for a second before tilting your head up with a small, determined smile. “You’re right. Anyway…” You toggled to a few other emails on the screen. “Who cares if H Publishing isn’t ready for me? I’ve got three other alphabets practically falling over themselves to snatch me up.”
His eyebrows rose, and he chuckled, folding his arms as he looked at you with mock admiration. “Three companies? Wow, look at you. Guess I gave pretty solid advice, huh?”
“Oh, please. I’m the one with the charm and talent.” You grinned, crossing your arms in triumph. “But yeah, some random guy did tell me to find a place that really fits. He was very wise.” You leaned over, planting a quick, playful kiss on his cheek.
Seungcheol’s face softened as he pulled you in for a real hug, resting his chin on top of your head. “Wise guy, huh? He sounds like he wants you to be somewhere that lets you shine.”
“Don’t let it go to your head,” you teased, glancing up at him.
“Wouldn’t dream of it.” He laughed softly, his arms still wrapped around you, neither of you in any rush to pull away. The moment lingered, easy and unhurried, as if you both knew things were exactly as they should be.
Once you’d finalized the details with your chosen company, the reality of your situation began to settle in. Your start date was fast approaching, and with it, the understanding that your time in Seungcheol’s apartment was coming to an end. He hadn’t mentioned anything, but you knew that, now that you had a stable job, there was no reason for you to stay here anymore.
It was bittersweet. In the past three weeks, you’d become more attached to this life—sharing a space, a routine, even the quiet moments with him. The thought of going back to an empty bed, waking up without Seungcheol’s warm embrace, or the comforting ritual of morning coffee together, weighed on you. But this was a necessary part of starting over; after all, you’d come here to stand on your own, not to fall into the comfort of living with someone you weren’t even officially dating.
Wait… You paused, realization dawning on you. You and Seungcheol weren’t exactly in a relationship… were you?
Up until now, you hadn’t given it much thought, but now that you’d asked yourself the question, suddenly, it was all you could think about!
Was this casual? It was while you were still a guest and a concierge in a faraway hotel. Right now, it doesn’t seem that way anymore. What kind of relationship would you have if Seungcheol had already offered you his home, supported your dreams like it was his own, and focused on you with a warmth and attentiveness that made you feel like his world revolves around you?
“Do you even have feelings for him?” Jill asked when you told her about it over the brunch you’d planned with her a few days ago. She lived in the same city and while you were genuinely happy to spend time with her after all these years, she noticed that something was bothering you and managed to coax you into talking about it.
“No?” You answered, though it sounded more like a question directed at yourself. “I don’t know. I just… hadn’t thought about it until now. Everything felt so easy and so natural. I guess I forgot that things like this might need an actual label.”
Jill’s eyebrow lifted. “Things only need a label if you’ve got feelings and aren’t just hooking up.”
You flattened your lips, contemplating. “Does ‘hooking up’ mean making me breakfast every day for three weeks? Bringing home random gifts just because he thought I’d like them? Or being completely supportive of my career and dreams like it was his too?”
Jill’s knowing look softened as she studied your expression. “Well… when you put it like that, no,” she said, a teasing smile creeping in. “It sounds a lot more like someone who wants to be in your life than just in your bed.”
You sighed, feeling the warmth of her words and, at the same time, a little overwhelmed. “So… what do I do now? Ask him if he wants to be something more?”
Jill shook her head, reaching out to pat your hand. “Relax. You’ve got a lot going on already. You don’t have to figure it all out now,” she said, her voice calm and reassuring. “Just let things unfold naturally. Enjoy this stage, see where it takes you. If it’s meant to be more, you’ll both feel it, and you’ll know.”
And yet that was the problem. You weren’t patient. When something bothers you, you just have to get to the bottom of it as soon as you can.
That evening, as you were preparing dinner together, the inevitable topic was finally brought up. You’d just plated the food when Seungcheol leaned back against the counter, watching you with a contemplative smile.
“So… you’ll be looking for apartments soon,” he said, almost casually, though his gaze held something deeper. “Have you found any places that catch your eye?”
You swallowed the lump in your throat as you set the plates down on the table. “No. I haven’t gotten to it yet. But I’ll start tomorrow, don’t worry.”
A flicker of something—disappointment, maybe?—crossed his face before he gave you a small nod. “Right. That’s good.”
For a moment, silence hung between you, thick with the things you both weren’t saying. The thought of leaving left a strange ache in your chest, and as you looked at Seungcheol, you couldn’t shake the feeling that he felt it too.
“Do you want me to go with you?” he asked just as you sat down to start eating.
“What about work?” you asked back and he shrugged.
“I don’t have anything important to do tomorrow, so I can leave it to them.”
You gave him a smile, one with a hint of sadness about your impending departure. “Alright, then. I could use some company who could show me which neighborhood would be best for me.”
The next morning, the air felt different as you and Seungcheol set out for apartment hunting. As you drove through the city, Seungcheol pointed out various areas, describing their unique vibes.
“This neighborhood has some great coffee shops, and the park nearby is perfect for a morning jog,” he said, gesturing toward a tree-lined street bustling with life.
“Looks perfect,” you replied, though your mind lingered on the idea of leaving his apartment behind.
As the realtor showed you a particularly spacious unit, you couldn’t help but compare it to Seungcheol’s massive penthouse with its high ceiling and floor to ceiling windows. Then again, you had to brush it all aside. This was a hunt for your home, the place you’d be spending your days in while doing what you loved. Somehow, shifting your perspective that way filled you to the brim with excitement.
At the next stop, you walked hand in hand, your fingers interlaced as you each enjoyed churros from a nearby vendor. You wandered through a vibrant farmer’s market, the scent of fresh produce and flowers enveloping you. Picking up a bundle of herbs, you turned to Seungcheol with a grin. “What about an apartment where I can have little herb pots by the window?”
He nodded. “Absolutely.”
“Do you think they’d survive though? What if I can’t take care of them well enough?”
“I think you’re capable of anything as long as you put your mind into it,” he replied and you felt a tug of familiarity in your chest. You were sure you’d heard someone tell you the same thing before, you just forgot when or who it was.
After picking up a few fresh ingredients to bring home, you resumed your hunt for an apartment. You stepped into an open house at a newly-built complex, just two blocks from your workplace. The agent who welcomed you in boasted about the high-tech security system and beautiful amenities, showcasing a rooftop garden that took your breath away.
“Based on your description, Ma’am, this unit might suit your taste perfectly,” said the agent, guiding you into a unit that was a bit smaller than the previous three-bedroom one he’d shown you. “It has one bedroom, a spacious living room, a kitchen, and a bathroom with both a shower and a tub. And of course, a bay window with a beautiful view of the city.”
You marveled at the empty space, envisioning it as a blank canvas waiting for your personal touch. As you exchanged glances with Seungcheol, his eyes sparkled with curiosity, mirroring your excitement. It felt like the beginning of a new chapter, one where your dreams were within reach.
“Feel free to look around and let me know what you think,” the agent said, noticing the delight on your faces. Someone called his name outside, and he excused himself, closing the door behind him.
Practically vibrating with excitement, you walked up to Seungcheol, wrapping your arms around his waist and beaming up at him. “Do you like it?” he asked.
“I love it!” you exclaimed, pulling away to explore the living room further.
Seungcheol leaned against the wall, arms crossed over his chest, watching you with a fond smile. You pushed open every door, gasping at each detail that captivated you.
When you finally felt satisfied, a realization tightened in your chest: It’s happening. You took a deep breath and met Seungcheol’s gaze. “This is it. This is the place.”
He offered a soft smile, one that reached his eyes. “I know. I like it too.”
Once again, the sinking feeling of leaving his place overcame you. “I’m gonna miss your house.”
He pushed off the wall and walked toward you, gently squeezing your shoulders. “You don’t have to go just because the job is set, you know?”
There it was—the invitation you hadn’t dared hope for. But as much as you wanted to stay, your resolve to stand on your own was stronger than any feelings you had for him.
“No, I have to go. I can’t keep invading your space,” you said, smiling, though the sadness flickered in your eyes.
He pulled you closer, wrapping your arms around his waist. “You’re not invading, sweetheart,” he said softly, cupping your cheeks and pressing a tender kiss to your lips. “I like having you there.”
“I know,” you scoffed playfully, rolling your eyes at his obvious affection. “But it wouldn’t make sense to stay there when the purpose of me moving here was so I could pursue something of my own.”
He sighed. “Why did you have to be so independent? Can’t you just stay with me forever? If you haven’t noticed, I’m very capable of making you live a life of luxury without you having to lift a finger.”
“Really? Wow. I didn’t notice,” you deadpanned in mock-surprise. You both laughed for a bit and the quiet that followed was heavy. You just stared at each other, conversing with your eyes but not coming to an understanding. “I’m sure you can make that happen, but forever is such a long time, Cheol.”
“It is,” he replied, his voice low as he looked into your eyes.
“You know, the most common factor that caused my past relationships to fail was our lack of communication. After the last one, I realized I have to make communication the very foundation of my relationships with people—friends, family, boyfriends.”
Seungcheol’s brow furrowed slightly as he absorbed your words. “I get that. Communication is important,” he said slowly, his gaze steady on you.
You felt a surge of courage as you met his eyes, willing yourself to be vulnerable. “That’s why I want to know exactly what you think about us. If this is casual, or if there’s more to this than what we both intended. I like what we have, but I also know that the beginning of our relationship was unconventional and we haven’t known each other that long. But I like it, I like you. Maybe not so much right now, but I’m willing to see where this takes us. So…” You took a deep breath and reached to cup his cheek. “I need to know where you stand.”
His expression shifted, and for a moment, you could see the hesitation flicker in his eyes. But then he leaned into your hand. “I like you more than words could ever describe, sweetheart. I haven’t felt this way for anyone, ever.”
You felt your heart skip a beat at his confession, a mix of relief and excitement coursing through you. “Do you mean that?” you asked softly, searching his eyes for sincerity.
He nodded, his gaze unwavering. “I do. I agree that we started off in a weird way, but I wasn’t even expecting to form something so profound with you in the first place. Still, I’ve enjoyed every moment we’ve spent together. You make me feel different... better.”
A warm flutter spread through you, but the uncertainty still lingered. “So, where does that leave us? I mean, I’m glad we like each other but I don’t want to jump into something without knowing we’re on the same page.”
He leaned to kiss you softly and slowly, as if it was the answer to your question. When he pulled away, there was an affectionate smile on his lips. “There. I jumped first. What are you gonna do?”
You wrapped your arms around his neck and crashed your lips into his for a much deeper, much fervent kiss. The world around you faded, leaving just the two of you and the electric connection that buzzed between your bodies. As the kiss deepened, you felt a rush of warmth flood through you, and your fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer.
Seungcheol responded eagerly, his hands roaming your back. The heat of the moment enveloped you both, and soon you found yourselves pressed against the wall, lost in the embrace. The kiss grew more passionate, hands exploring—fingers tracing along arms and waists, as you both got lost in the vice of each other.
But just as you felt the desire to take things further, the sound of footsteps echoed in the hallway, pulling you back to reality. The agent’s voice cut through the haze, followed by the sound of the doorknob clicking. You pulled away abruptly, breathless and wide-eyed, a rush of embarrassment flooding through you. Seungcheol looked just as startled, both of you momentarily flustered. The heat of the moment dissipated, replaced by the urgency to regain composure.
The agent’s smiling face appeared from the foyer, greeting you cheerfully. “So, what do you think?”
“We’ll take it,” you replied abruptly, still flustered.
“Yes. It’s ours,” Seungcheol added.
“Mine,” you corrected gently, patting his chest.
“Huh?” he asked dumbly, gawking at you for a second. “Oh, yeah. Hers.”
The transition into your role as an assistant editor felt seamless. The initial apprehension faded quickly, replaced by a surprising confidence as you organized articles and collaborated with your team. Being in a creative environment was thrilling and fulfilling. It didn’t even bother you that the pay was average—this was your passion in action, it should be priceless.
Twice a week, Seungcheol would sweep you off to dinner, the routine becoming another cherished ritual. He watched you with a fond smile as you animatedly discussed your day, your words flowing freely as you shared your small wins and challenges.
“I was nervous because they asked for my input out of nowhere but guess what?”
“They liked it?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.
“They did. They thought it was fantastic!”
“Wow, you’re brilliant.”
You giggled. “Oh, and earlier the chair gave out when I was—” you stopped, realizing how much you were rambling. “Sorry. Was I talking too much?”
“It’s okay I’m used to it,” he smiled, offering you a slice of his food. He smiled when you accepted it. “You could go on for hours once you start telling stories, remember?”
You sighed, remembering when you used to recount stories about your exes at his request. “Of course. But back then, you actually wanted to hear it. This is just me going on and on.”
“I like it,” he murmured, nudging another bite your way. “It’s endearing.”
“You’re saying that because you like me too much,” you teased, rolling your eyes playfully before taking the bite from his fork.
His laughter echoed in your ears, affectionate and genuine. You continued eating and talking. Every little touch, every shared smile, left a warmth that lingered even as the plates were cleared. And as you both walked home, Seungcheol slipped his hand into yours, fingers intertwining effortlessly.
“Do you wanna sleep over?” you asked, leaning against his shoulder as you walked.
“Can I?”
You hummed affirmatively. “It’s kinda cold and I kinda missed you.”
His chuckle was low and warm. “Do you miss me every day?”
“Yes,” you replied softly, sniffing the sleeve of his jacket. “Every single day.”
He glanced at you, a glint of mischief visible in his eyes. “Then what do you think about moving in with me?”
“Don’t you ever get tired of asking?” you scoffed, though a smile tugged at your lips.
“It’s fun. Who knows? Maybe if I keep at it, you’ll give in,” he teased, nudging your shoulder.
“Or maybe I’ll kick you out of my life forever.”
“You can try.” He smirked. “But I’m not going anywhere.”
The two of you often spent your evenings at your apartment since he’d pick you up from work, and your place was closer. His job demanded much of his time, even on weekends, so you’d only managed a couple of trips in the last few months. Still, you made time to hang out at his place whenever you could.
Seungcheol always treated you with warmth and care, never missing a chance to hold you, lean against you, or pull you into a hug. It felt like he was always close, a steady presence you’d come to cherish.
“Yes, right there,” you exclaimed, moaning in delight as Seungcheol massaged your tensed shoulder with expertise. You grinned, aware of how you were affecting him. “Oh, Seungcheol. That is so good.”
“Keep doing that and I’ll give you something to really moan about,” he teased, shooting you a look that made you quickly mime a zipper over your lip.
You settled back, savoring the massage, though you couldn’t resist letting out a dramatic moan here and there just to tease him. Seungcheol, as it turned out, is more in control of his urges than you’d expected.
When he finished with your shoulders, he moved to the carpet beside the couch, taking one of your legs into his hands and massaging it. You gave him a warm smile. “You know, I really enjoy being treated like a princess by you,” you mused.
He paused, tilting his head at you. “Princess, huh?”
You nodded with a giggle. “Mmhm, exactly.”
Seungcheol chuckled, setting your foot down with exaggerated care. “Maybe I’m not doing enough, then.”
Your eyes widened. “Wait—what? You’re already doing more than enough!”
“Then why are you a princess and not a queen?”
Your mouth fell open in mock surprise before you started laughing at the cringe line. “Alright, alright. I get it. You’ve got rizz. Come here.” You leaned forward, cupping his cheeks with both hands as you guided him up to meet your lips.
“Choi Seungcheol?” Mina asked, glancing up at you as she leaned back in the salon chair. You’d been looking forward to this weekend with her, Jill, and Lea, a chance to unwind over manicures and girl talk.
“Yeah. Do you know him?” you asked, mildly intrigued.
Mina sighed dramatically. “Do I know him? Everyone in the industry knows him. The guy’s a genius.”
“Really?” You tilted your head, genuinely curious.
“I don’t know all the details, but he founded his holdings company back in 20XX, and it only took him seven years to build a multimillion-dollar empire,” Mina explained, her tone awestruck. “He’s actually one of the investors at my company.”
You blinked in surprise. “That’s... impressive.”
Mina gave you a look. “Wait—didn’t you know this?”
You shrugged, trying to play it cool. “I mean, I knew he had his own company, but he doesn’t talk much about it.”
Jill chuckled. “Your boyfriend is mysterious.”
“Oh, he’s not my boyfriend.”
The three of them stared at you, expressions of disbelief on their faces. Finally, Mina broke the silence, “If he’s not your boyfriend, what is he?”
You hesitated, then admitted, “I mean, well… We’re together, but he didn’t really ask me to be his girlfriend. And I didn’t ask him either. We just came to a consensus that we wanted to be together.”
“Girl, that’s literally what dating is,” Jill deadpanned, rolling her eyes.
You laughed. “Fine, maybe you’re right. I just didn’t want to dwell on labels, you know?”
“Unbelievable,” Mina muttered, but her grin softened the words.
“So, is he self-made or did he get help?” Lea interjected, steering the topic back to Seungcheol’s career. “Nepo baby?”
Mina shrugged. “Not entirely sure. I heard he started out with just one investor—apparently the father of his business partner.”
“Or maybe he’s a genius who just knows how to make the right investments,” Jill mused.
As they chatted, your mind drifted, replaying Mina’s words. You’d never asked Seungcheol much about his past because he was usually reserved about it. He’d drop hints now and then, but he never got into the deeper details. You didn’t even know whether his parents were wealthy—or if they were alive. Somehow, you’d just assumed he’d built his company on his own, out of necessity.
But now, a strange, almost bittersweet curiosity tugged at you. Just who was the man you’d grown so close to? Why did it feel like you barely knew about him?
The weekend went on as the four of you bounced between shopping, brunch spots, and lazy strolls through the streets. Your friends were great company, their laughter and stories taking you back to your youth when things were much simpler. Yet, every now and then, your thoughts wandered back to Seungcheol and the half-formed questions he’d unknowingly left with you.
Had he really kept his career and his life so under wraps out of modesty, or was it just a deliberate choice to keep you in the dark? Was his interest in you genuine, or were you just another distraction to him—an easy escape maybe?
“Earth to you!” Jill’s fingers snapped in front of your face, pulling you back to the table. She looked at you, brow raised, with a teasing smirk. “Where’d you go off to?”
“Oh—nowhere,” you said, smiling sheepishly.
Mina shot you a knowing glance. “Does ‘nowhere’ happen to be a certain tall, good-looking, and mysterious Choi Seungcheol?”
Your cheeks warmed. “Maybe.”
“Thought so.” Mina took a sip of her drink, eyes twinkling. “You’ve been a little preoccupied. Did something bad happen?”
“Not exactly. It’s just…” You hesitated, picking at the edge of your napkin. “I just realized I didn’t know much about him, which is dumb because he probably had me memorized by now. What if there’s more he’s not telling me? And what if he’s not telling me these things because… you know, I’m temporary?” You winced, not quite sure how to put it into words.
Jill reached over to squeeze your hand. “That’s understandable. I mean, the guy’s clearly got a lot going on. Maybe he’s just waiting until he feels it’s the right time?”
“Or maybe he’s afraid of something,” Mina chimed in, thoughtful. “A rich guy like him? People probably approach him with motives all the time. Maybe he’s cautious around people he cares about.”
You sighed, staring down at your coffee. It didn’t help that Seungcheol hadn’t called or messaged you since Friday, leaving a quiet ache you hadn’t quite anticipated. Usually, you’d hear from him at least once, even if it was a short message to check in. Although he did promise he won’t bother you while you were hanging out with your friends. Still, this silence felt different, unsettling.
The afternoon passed by in comfortable, busy distraction. You all wandered through shops, trying on clothes and laughing at ridiculous sunglasses, sharing in the small, simple joys of being together. But every so often, while waiting in line or glancing at your phone, you found yourself hoping to see his name light up your screen, only to be met with empty notifications.
“Are you okay?” Lea asked later, when the two of you found yourselves alone for a moment, the others a few steps ahead.
You managed a smile, brushing it off. “Yeah, I’m totally fine.”
She gave a sympathetic nod. “You know, it’s okay to ask him these things. Better than sitting around wondering. Just… don’t let it ruin your weekend, okay?”
You appreciated her concern, and as the evening stretched into night, you pushed the thoughts aside, letting yourself laugh along with the others and lose yourself in the joy of good company.
On your last night together, you especially looked forward to tomorrow, knowing you’d finally see Seungcheol again. But as you and your friends shared wine, the conversation turned deeper and more personal.
“To be honest? You get the worst when it comes to relationships,” Mina slurred drunkenly, pointing a wavering finger at you. “Jill always attracts cheaters, but she has never let them walk all over her, no.”
Jill raised her glass with a laugh. “Never!”
“Lea is engaged to her high school sweetheart,” Mina continued, gesturing at Lea, who grinned proudly. “And I’ve always dated long-term—though I’m single now,” she added with a shrug.
You chuckled, finding Mina’s drunken antics endearing. She turned her gaze back to you, suddenly serious. “You, my darling girl, you…”
She stumbled over to you, landing next to you on the floor, and you reached to steady her. She rested her head on your shoulder, taking a deep breath before nuzzling into your warmth. “Why do you always get hurt?”
“I don’t do it on purpose,” you replied softly.
“Of course not. Who would ever choose to hurt themselves?” she chuckled bitterly. “I just mean… you always find these amazing guys, only for them to slip through your fingers in the end.”
Lea scoffed playfully, joining Mina on the carpet. “You’re one to talk. You always date long-term, then break up anyway. What’s the point of dating for years if it’s not going anywhere?”
“You wouldn’t understand, Lea, since you’ve only dated one guy since high school,” Mina teased, nudging her. “But with my exes, they were all great at first, only to turn out to be self-absorbed jerks or cheats.”
“So why am I the worst?” you asked, running your fingers through her hair.
“You’re not the worst,” she sighed, leaning her head on Lea’s. “You just have the worst luck out of all of us.” She closed her eyes, voice softening. “Mingyu was broken, and you were right to leave him, but if he’d been in a better place, it could have been beautiful. You wouldn’t have had to go through that heartbreak when you were still young.”
You nodded, feeling the memories settle heavily between you all.
“And Wonwoo…” Mina continued, “well, he was perfect. But he was just passing through your life. And of course, there’s Vernon…”
Mina paused, and the others went quiet. You held your breath as she looked at you, her gaze full of sympathy.
“Breaking up with him… that was your lowest point,” Jill murmured, joining the huddle, her hand resting on yours.
You huffed, a self-deprecating smirk tugging at your lips. “Worst time of my life, to be honest.”
Mina tilted her head, her eyes meeting yours with earnest sympathy. “Do you know what happens to you once you’re in a relationship?” she asked quietly. You shrugged, feeling the gentle press of her hand urging you to listen. “You hyperfixate on them. You forget you had a life before them.”
A pang of guilt struck you, sharper than expected. She was right, and you already knew it—had felt it but never fully admitted it to yourself. In the background of every relationship, your friends and family had often become shadows. You swallowed, words heavy. “I’m sorry, guys.”
Mina waved her hand dismissively. “That’s all in the past. But honestly?” She gave you a half-smile. “It’s a little frustrating to see you dissociate this weekend, drifting off because of your current guy.”
“It really is,” Jill agreed, chuckling. “And you’re not exactly subtle about it.”
“Come on, girl!” Mina sighed, though her tone held a warmth only close friends could manage. “This weekend is supposed to be for us, but your mind’s clearly somewhere else. I get it, we all do, but… I guess I just wonder why that part of you hasn’t changed after all these years.”
You opened your mouth to apologize, but Jill cut you off, her tone softer. “Hey, you don’t have to be sorry. We get it. It’s just… we worry about you.”
Mina’s hand found yours, giving it a light squeeze. “We just hope you find your happiness soon, whatever that looks like.”
You managed a small smile, touched by her words. “So do I, Mina. So do I.”
As you settled into bed that night, Mina’s words lingered in your mind. Her gentle yet unflinching honesty made you confront a truth you’d avoided for years: once you entered a relationship, you tended to lose yourself in it, almost as if everything else faded to the background. And while the connection with Seungcheol felt different, you couldn't ignore the uneasy feeling that you were once again falling into old patterns.
You rolled over, staring at the ceiling as a strange but comforting realization took shape in your mind. For the first time, you decided to hold onto your own life and interests alongside a relationship. You’d never thought about it before because it never seemed necessary, as if love could fill every space. But now, you understood that nurturing your own dreams and friendships was just as vital—that it was the way to truly keep the people you love close to your heart for as long as you could.
The next morning, you found yourself surprisingly refreshed. As you packed up and prepared to leave the villa, you felt a lightness that hadn’t been there before—a sense of confidence that came from knowing you could hold onto yourself, too.
When Seungcheol arrived to pick you up, he stepped out of the car with his usual charm, dressed in his usual suit and tie outfit that drew appreciative glances from your friends. He greeted them warmly, offering a firm handshake and a genuine smile that seemed to put everyone at ease. You introduced each of your friends, watching the small exchanges of laughter and chatter that followed.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you all,” Seungcheol said, a warm glint in his eye. “You’ve been taking great care of her, I can tell.”
“We try,” Lea teased, elbowing you playfully.
With a grin, Seungcheol offered, “How about I treat you all to brunch, as a thank you?”
The girls exchanged quick glances, and Mina, always the spokesperson, politely declined. “That’s sweet of you, Seungcheol, but she’s all yours. We’ve already had her to ourselves all weekend.”
They bid you both goodbye, with Jill pulling you aside for one last, quick hug. “Remember what we talked about, okay?”
You hugged her back, nodding. “I will.”
As you settled into the passenger seat, Seungcheol reached over to clasp your hand, his thumb tracing small circles on your skin. You glanced over at him, feeling both the comfort of his presence and, for the first time, a quiet certainty that you didn’t need to lose yourself to love him. That this time, you could have both—your life and his presence in it, without one overshadowing the other.
Seungcheol glanced at you as he pulled onto the road, catching the thoughtful expression on your face. “Good weekend?”
“Yeah,” you replied, squeezing his hand. “It really was. I think I needed it more than I realized.”
He smiled softly, eyes returning to the road. “Glad to hear that. I think it’s important you keep in touch with friends. They’re usually the ones who know you very well.”
You nodded. “They really are.”
When you reached your apartment, Seungcheol immediately pulled you into a kiss, his arms tight around you. You couldn’t help but smile, coming to a conclusion that he’d been waiting for you.
“Miss me?” you teased, fingers tracing idle patterns on the back of his neck.
“Always,” he replied, his voice a low murmur against your temple as he brushed a kiss there, slow and unhurried.
You tilted your head to meet his gaze, your fingertips trailing up to his jaw, grazing the hint of stubble there. “Then why didn’t you call me?”
“You said you were gonna catch up with your friends,” he pouted, burying his face on the crook of your neck. “I took everything in me not to text you. I spent three hours in the gym every night just to distract myself.”
You giggled, rolling your eyes. “Liar.”
“I’m serious.” he shot back indignantly. “I would never lie about that.”
You scoffed, but your grin was hard to conceal. Seungcheol kissed your cheek. “I miss you so much,” he said softly, his hand sliding to the small of your back, drawing you close.
Your fingers curled at the back of his neck, pulling him down until your lips met in a slow, languid kiss. You could feel him smile against your lips, his fingers tracing gentle circles as he pulled you even closer as if you weren’t already pressed flush against each other.
Soon his mouth left yours, trailing down your jaw to your neck. You sighed into him, savoring the warmth that wrapped around you, letting your heart and body override your brain and lose yourself to the vice of Seungcheol’s touch.
The warmth grew more intense as the familiar press of his body against yours stirred your passion awake. Soft sighs escaped your mouth each time Seungcheol’s teeth grazed your skin and sent a ripple of pleasure throughout your nerves. His strong hands traced slow, deliberate lines along your back, mapping the familiar curves with ease, not stopping when he reached your ass all the way down to your thigh.
Without warning, he lifted you off your feet, making you yelp. Seungcheol grinned, kissing your lips briefly before walking straight into your bedroom. Inside, he dropped you down the mattress and you bounced slightly as you fell.
“You’re such a tease,” he commented, making you blink in confusion and chuckle.
“I’m a tease? I’m not even doing anything,” you retorted, rolling your eyes.
“I know. It’s crazy,” he grinned, discarding his shirt and crawling toward you. “You’re not doing anything and yet…” he guided your hand to his crotch, leaning into your ear as he whispered. “...you’re making me lose my fucking mind.”
Your breath hitched when you felt how hard he was under his pants. His cock pulsed against your palm and it sent a sudden wave of desire through your body that made your pussy tingle with anticipation.
It didn’t take long before you were both naked on your bed, lewd sounds of pleasure and skin against skin echoing through your apartment. If your neighbors could hear you, you wouldn’t know—you didn’t even care anymore at this point. Each kiss and every thrust spoke volumes, a language only the of you knew, built over countless moments like this, yet still feeling as thrilling as the first.
Seungcheol’s pace was delightfully rough, rutting into you with a force that reached the very core of your of cunt and made your eyes roll to the back of your head. Your mouth was gaped open the whole time, letting every moan and whimper escape your throat.
It was wonderful the way he seemed to know you so well, understanding every sigh and shift in your expression. You found yourself responding instinctively, matching his pace as if you were two parts of the same whole.
“Cheol,” you managed to gasp, feeling your body clench with the familiar ache in your belly. You clawed his back frantically, desperate to hold onto something in fear that the intense euphoria would actually send you into orbit. “Please… don’t—don’t stop!”
Recognizing the slight scrunch on your expression, Seungcheol maintained his pace, lowering himself so you could hold onto him properly. “It’s okay. Hold on tight and go ahead. Go ahead, sweetheart. Let it all out.”
Time seemed to slow down, as he rasped your own name in your ear, his voice amplifying the need for release. Eyes rolling back, you let out a dragged-out moan, back arching as you came undone underneath him. He held you by the waist, pausing while he was balls deep inside of you and your walls pulsated around him. He watched your fucked-out expression with a proud smirk before slowly setting you back down, your body twitching a few more times with the aftershocks of your orgasm.
You smiled at him, pushing him up just enough so he could continue. Seungcheol didn’t need to be told, immediately thrusting into you and riding the high that hadn’t even left you yet. Your moans were throaty, losing your mind once more as he rammed into your overstimulated cunt.
And when he finally stilled, he let out a guttural grunt you’d ever heard before collapsing next to you. He wrapped an arm around you, holding you as if letting go wasn’t an option as if you could stay this close forever. You pressed a kiss to his forehead, feeling the quiet warmth settle between you, a deep, steady comfort that lingered even after the last whispers of passion had faded.
“I love you,” you whispered, just as Seungcheol drifted off to sleep.
Days turned into weeks, and weeks into months. Your career was blossoming, you were closer with your friends, and you talked to your parents more often. Adding in Seungcheol by your side, your life felt fuller than it ever had. In this new chapter, you embraced everything as it came, ready to weave your dreams into the fabric of your life.
Then again, life just likes taking a turn when you least expect it to. After all, if it’s all sunshine and daisies, then it isn’t life at all. Challenges are necessary for growth. In this chapter of your life, the ‘turn’ was both familiar and new. Something you’d seen before, but somehow, it felt different.
“Would you like to come with me this weekend? There’s a party and I could use some company,” Seungcheol asked while you were lounging in your living room one night. “A gorgeous one,” he added, winking at you.
“What party?” you asked, considering the invitation but needing to know the details first.
“It’s the anniversary of Hong Industries. I’m close with them so I can’t miss it,” he explained.
“Alright,” you chimed, smiling at him. “But first, am I your girlfriend?”
Seungcheol paused, looking at you with a slight scowl on his forehead. “Of course, you are.”
You hummed. “Just making sure there’s an actual label to this.”
Seungcheol chuckled, placing his spoon down and giving you a fond look. “Of course there is. What happened? What made you ask me that out of nowhere?”
“Nothing. I was just checking,” you replied, shrugging. “If I am to accompany you to a party where I might meet your acquaintances, I should know how to introduce myself.”
“You’re not gonna go there and introduce yourself as my girlfriend, are you?” he asked, looking genuinely perplexed.
“Then what am I supposed to do?”
Seungcheol shrugged as if the answer should be obvious to you already. “You could introduce yourself as a writer.”
“I’m an assistant editor at a publishing company. Not a writer.”
“Then you can introduce yourself that way too.”
You leaned back on the couch, crossing your arms over your chest and looking at him with playful suspicion. “Do you not want me to be known as your girlfriend, Choi Seungcheol?”
“Again with the full name.”
You smirked. “What? I thought you liked it when I called your name?”
“Oh, you’ll call my name alright,” he smirked, tugging his necktie off and lunging at you. You let him lay you down on the couch, but you didn’t let him kiss you, covering his mouth with your hand.
“Come on. Tell me the truth,” you said sternly, narrowing your eyes at him,
Seungcheol smirked. “You know, I could lie right now just to get what I want.”
“Yes, but you wouldn’t. You’re not the type to do that,” you challenged, feeling confident despite the voice in the back of your mind telling you he was changing the subject and avoiding the question.
“You know me too well,” he lilted, kissing your lips softly. “You’re my girlfriend, and we can introduce you as such to anyone and everyone who would care to listen.”
“See? How hard was that.”
Seungcheol sighed, his gaze softening as he looked at you. “I just don’t want you to feel... overshadowed. Being my girlfriend might sound simple, but trust me, it’s not gonna be easy. They’ll see you through that lens first and it’s gonna stick.”
You studied him, intrigued by the rare moment of openness. “I get it, but I know who I am. I’m okay with the label if it’s one we’re both proud of.”
He chuckled, leaning down to kiss you again. “See? You’re one of a kind.” His hand slid down your arm, pulling you closer, and you nestled into the warmth of his embrace. The ease of your familiarity made your heart flutter, the way it always did.
As the evening of the gala approached, you slipped into a fitted, elegant gown, one that was classic yet alluring, the kind that made you feel like you belonged in the world Seungcheol occupied so easily. You finished with a touch of makeup, something that highlighted your eyes and a bold lip to match the confidence you wanted to project tonight. Right on cue, Seungcheol arrived, stepping out of his car looking every bit the part in a sharp black tuxedo. He stopped when he saw you, taking a moment as his gaze swept over you.
“You look marvelous,” he said, reaching for your hand and kissing your knuckles. “Ready?”
“Ready.”
The gala venue was grand, a historic mansion converted into a luxury event space. Tall windows lined the walls, offering a stunning view of the city skyline. The chandeliers bathed the room in a golden glow, illuminating guests dressed in designer clothes, mingling with ease over champagne and laughter. As you stepped into the space, you felt Seungcheol’s hand slip to the small of your back, a subtle gesture that felt both protective and possessive.
“Stay close,” he murmured, guiding you through the crowd.
Seungcheol was a magnet for attention tonight. As soon as you arrived, people began gravitating toward him, friends and colleagues, associates he had to greet. Each time, he would introduce you with an easy, charming smile. “She’s an assistant editor at V Publishing,” he’d start, then add with pride, “and also my girlfriend.”
Every introduction made you feel both more part of his world and distinctly aware of how different it was from your own.
“CEO Choi!” someone called from the crowd.
You and Seungcheol turned toward the voice, spotting a man approaching with a friendly, approachable charm. He looked polished in his navy-blue tux, his expression warm. Seungcheol sighed as he saw him, a subtle reaction that made you wonder if he wasn’t fond of this guy.
“Hey, Josh,” Seungcheol greeted, his tone drier than usual. The name triggered a vague recognition in your memory.
Joshua ignored Seungcheol, focusing on you with a bright smile as he extended a hand. “You must be her—the woman who made CEO Choi go AWOL for a whole week in some far-off hotel. I’m Joshua Hong, COO of his company.”
You narrowed your eyes slightly but shook his hand anyway. “Somehow, I feel like you don’t like me already.”
“Oh, I adore you! I’ve been dying to meet you,” he said with exaggerated enthusiasm, though you weren’t quite convinced.
“Okay…” you replied, raising an eyebrow.
Before you could continue, another voice chimed in from behind. “Well, would you look at that,” a smooth voice said. You and Seungcheol glanced over your shoulders to find a strikingly handsome man with blonde hair, a playful grin tugging at his lips. “If it isn’t Choi Seungcheol with the most gorgeous woman I’ve ever seen.”
“Jeonghan,” Seungcheol replied flatly, sighing as though he’d already braced himself for this. “Just my luck.”
Jeonghan slipped over to Joshua’s side, eyeing you with a knowing smile that made you feel self-conscious. He looked you over with a slow, appraising gaze.
“Alright, you two are creeping me out,” you said, scowling slightly. “What’s going on?”
“I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t checking you out,” Jeonghan teased, his gaze shamelessly drifting from your face to your dress. “You’re kinda hot.”
Seungcheol stepped in, placing a hand on Jeonghan’s chest and pushing him aside. “That’s enough. Don’t make her uncomfortable.”
Joshua stepped forward, positioning himself on your other side with a friendly grin. “Sorry about my friend. He’s a bit of a creep,” he said, nodding toward Jeonghan before offering his arm. “Can I get you a drink?”
You glanced at Seungcheol, who nodded reassuringly. “He’s my friend. Go ahead if you’d like.”
“Hey, why does he get to be her escort?” Jeonghan protested, raising a hand in mock indignation.
“Because you’re a creep,” Joshua replied, dismissing him with a wave of his fingers as he guided you to the minibar.
At the minibar, Joshua handed you a glass of champagne and leaned in with a warm, curious smile. “So,” he began, “how did you and Seungcheol get together?”
You took a sip of your drink, feeling a bit on the spot. You didn’t go into the details but gave him the briefest version. “It just sort of… happened, I guess. We kept running into each other.”
Joshua nodded, looking amused but a little surprised. “Seungcheol doesn’t usually bring dates to these events. I mean, he keeps his private life pretty close to the chest, so seeing you two together tonight is definitely a first.”
You glanced across the room where Seungcheol was in conversation with another guest, his eyes occasionally drifting back to you. The thought that he’d brought you here when he normally came alone gave you a quiet, warm thrill.
Before you could say anything else, Joshua shifted the conversation with a curious glance. “He told me you’re an assistant editor. That must be exciting work. Jeonghan over there,” he nodded toward his friend who was in the same circle as Seungcheol, “he’s in the broadcasting industry. They’re always on the lookout for writers, you know.”
“Oh,” you replied, taken aback by the suggestion. You hardly considered crossing into a field like that, especially given that this was one of Seungcheol’s friends.
Joshua noticed your hesitation and chuckled lightly. “I know Jeonghan comes off… well, a little intense. But he’s actually a decent guy—he just likes to mess with Seungcheol as much as possible.”
You laughed, feeling more at ease. “Yeah, I did notice they seem to have that kind of friendship.”
“Exactly. But hey, if you’re interested in exploring other avenues with your writing, Jeonghan would be a good contact. You’d be surprised at the kinds of opportunities that open up in broadcasting.”
You nodded thoughtfully, his words sparking an idea you hadn’t considered. Working as a writer beyond publishing was unfamiliar but intriguing, and the prospect made your heart race a little. “Thanks for the tip, Joshua. But I’m fairly new in the industry. I will consider it though.”
Joshua smiled at you with a kind of charm that made you feel at ease. But before the conversation could deepen, someone pulled him aside, and he gestured he’d be quick. You nodded, mouthing that he could take his time. As you sipped your champagne, your gaze drifted over the crowd—and then you spotted a familiar face. Mingyu, with that warm, easygoing grin, met your eyes and lit up immediately.
Within seconds, he’d crossed the room in a few quick strides. “Oh my god, I can’t believe this—how long has it been?”
You laughed, surprised and genuinely happy to see him. “Not too long. How have you been?”
Talking with Mingyu felt like no time had passed at all. He was as charming and witty as ever, and soon you found yourself reminiscing, falling into a rhythm as if the year between you had been just yesterday. Mingyu asked about your work, your life, and sprinkled in stories of his own misadventures, making you laugh and remember what had drawn you to him once.
But out of the corner of your eye, you noticed Seungcheol approaching, his gaze locked onto you and Mingyu. His steps were unhurried, but his eyes held an intensity that sent a shiver through you. He slid his arm around your waist as he reached you, claiming his place at your side in a way that left no room for doubt.
“Hey,” Seungcheol greeted before pressing a quick kiss on your cheek.
“Hi,” you smiled at him and then turned back to Mingyu. “This is Choi Seungcheol my—”
“Boyfriend,” Seungcheol cut in, his voice steady but carrying an edge that made your stomach flutter. “And you must be Kim Mingyu.”
Mingyu’s face brightened. “You know me?”
Seungcheol’s gaze shifted to you briefly before replying, “I’ve heard a lot about you.”
“Really? It’s nice to meet you! CH Holdings, right?” Mingyu asked, genuinely enthusiastic.
“Yes,” Seungcheol replied coolly, sizing Mingyu up in a way that was hard to ignore. The silence that followed, though brief, felt thick and awkward. Mingyu was the first one to break, glancing at you with a smile.
“I’m really glad we ran into each other. We should catch up sometime,” he suggested, glancing between you and Seungcheol with a hint of his usual playfulness.
“Why?” Seungcheol’s reply was direct, and though his tone was mild, there was a possessiveness beneath it that made Mingyu laugh.
“Relax, man. I’m not trying anything. We go way back, that’s all,” Mingyu assured.
Seungcheol’s hand on your waist tightened slightly as he responded with a controlled smile, “Doesn’t seem that way to me.”
Mingyu blinked, taken aback for a moment. “What?” He glanced at you, clearly confused.
You could sense the tension simmering beneath Seungcheol’s composed expression, and though Mingyu was mostly oblivious to it, you could feel the subtle line that had been drawn. Seungcheol wasn’t letting his guard down.
“Alright, that’s enough,” you said, gently squeezing Seungcheol’s arm, trying to diffuse the situation. Turning back to Mingyu, you offered, “It was good seeing you, Mingyu. Let’s catch up soon.”
“Definitely. Enjoy the party!” Mingyu’s smile was genuine as he gave a small wave before heading off, but he glanced back at Seungcheol with an amused look as he went.
Once he was out of earshot, you looked up at Seungcheol, catching the faintest trace of jealousy in his expression. “What was that about?” you asked, arching an eyebrow as you leaned into his arm.
Seungcheol shrugged, trying to play it off. “Just remembering what happened the last time you bumped into him.”
You laughed softly, a bit incredulous. “You think something like that would happen again?”
He gave you a look, not entirely joking. “Who knows?”
“Okay, that’s offensive.”
“What do you mean?”
Your smile faded as you let out a short, sharp sigh, feeling a twinge of hurt at his insinuation. You shook your head and stepped away. Seungcheol reached out as if to follow, but before he could say anything, a group of men gathered around him, clearly eager for his attention. He glanced at them, then back at you, his gaze following you even as he nodded along to their conversation.
You were offended, and rightfully so. How could he see you as someone who would betray his trust so easily? Your encounter with Mingyu last year had been a fleeting moment of comfort during a time when you were single and lonely. But now, you’re with Seungcheol. Surely he wouldn’t think you’d jeopardize what you had with him by sleeping with your ex, would he? Did he really really think that low of you?
You barely noticed the woman who approached you until she spoke. “Are you Seungcheol’s designated arm candy? You’re pretty.”
“Excuse me?” you blurted, startled by her sudden appearance and appalled by her question.
“You have an attitude too, hmm,” she commented nonchalantly, looking you up and down before walking away.
You watched her walk away, bewildered by her casual insult. Was that really how people saw you—just a pretty accessory to someone like Seungcheol? Did everyone at this gala see you through that narrow lens?
The woman's words lingered in your mind, twisting with the doubt that had already taken root from Seungcheol's earlier comment. You clenched your fists, trying to shake off the feeling of inadequacy that threatened to creep in.
As you scanned the room, the laughter and chatter around you felt distant and muted. You wanted to enjoy the evening, to stand alongside your boyfriend with pride, but your thoughts kept spiraling back to the weight of his mistrust and the woman’s dismissive tone.
The car ride back to Seungcheol’s penthouse was quiet and tense. He kept glancing your way, trying to coax out the reason for your anger, but you merely stared out the window, letting the city lights blur together into a wash of colors.
“Please tell me what’s wrong,” he asked again, his voice laced with concern.
You shrugged, not trusting yourself to speak without letting your frustration spill over. The truth was, you didn’t want to talk; you didn’t want to explain the whirlwind of emotions inside you.
“Come on, sweetheart, don’t shut me out. I know something’s bothering you,” he pressed gently, reaching for your hand. You pulled away slightly, feeling the distance between you growing.
Once you arrived, you wasted no time making your escape. You hurried to the guest room, locking the door behind you. After a quick bath, the warmth of the water soothing your nerves, you slipped into bed, the exhaustion from the night settling in as you closed your eyes. You heard the soft creak of the door sometime later, feeling the mattress sink behind you as Seungcheol lay next to you. But you pretended to be fast asleep, too tired to face the rift coming between you.
“I’m sorry. I was just jealous,” he murmured, pulling you closer. “I trust you with my life. I know you would never go behind my back. I’m so sorry.”
You heard him clearly, but you were intent on your pretense so you didn’t respond. Instead, you allowed yourself to relax into his arms, grateful for the warmth, even if your heart felt heavy.
Morning light seeped through the curtains, casting yellowish light into the room. You blinked against the brightness, feeling the soft fabric of the blanket wrapping around you. You soon waddled out of the bedroom, dressed only in your underwear and Seungcheol’s oversized shirt. As you entered the living room, the casual atmosphere was shattered by the sight before you.
Seungcheol was standing with his hands on his waist, facing a woman sitting comfortably on the couch as if she belonged there. It was the woman from the gala, the one who’d called you an ‘arm-candy’. She was beautiful, with an air of confidence that emanated from head to foot. And she noticed you as soon as you stepped into the living room, raising an eyebrow arrogantly.
“You have a guest,” she said, making Seungcheol glance over his shoulder. The hard expression on his face softened upon meeting your gaze.
“Who is this?” you asked Seungcheol, trying to mask your discomfort with a casual tone.
Seungcheol opened his mouth to answer but the woman was quicker. “I’m his fiancee,” she announced, standing up at once. “Nice to meet you.”
You froze, your mind buffering at the declaration. Seungcheol held your hand and with a warning tone, he said, “Jiwon.”
The woman—Jiwon—raised an eyebrow. “If you like her so much, you should have told her about me sooner.”
“Get out,” Seungcheol practically growled, but that didn’t seem to faze Jiwon. She smirked, picking up her purse and heading for the door.
Before leaving, however, she said, “You’re free to play around as much as you want, Seungcheol. But only for now. I won’t stand for this disrespect once we’re married.”
It felt like your world came crashing down, a weight settling heavily on your chest as you stood there, trying to make sense of it all. Your mind was spiraling, processing the information painfully fast and coming into a confusing conclusion: was your relationship with Seungcheol simply a distraction from his obligations to Jiwon?
“I can explain,” he began, his voice urgent as he stepped closer. You recoiled when he reached for you, looking straight at him with confusion and hurt. Instead of listening to his reassurances, you turned away, the sting of tears blurring your vision. You retreated into the bedroom, your footsteps thundering against the floor as you shut the door behind you, leaving Seungcheol’s voice echoing faintly in the hallway.
Your hands were shaking as you tugged on your clothes, every movement fueled by a whirlwind of emotions—hurt, confusion, and anger. You were just about to change when you felt Seungcheol’s arms wrap around you from behind, holding you tightly against him.
“Please don’t go,” he murmured, his breath warm against your ear, a hint of desperation softening his voice. “You said you want communication to be the foundation of our relationship, and yet you walk away when I try to do just that.”
“I didn’t wanna hurt myself even more,” you muttered under your breath, but he heard you just fine.
His voice grew firmer. “I would never hurt you.”
“That’s too big of a promise,” you whispered, biting back fresh tears. “You already did.”
He sighed, and you reluctantly turned to face him, tears spilling over. “Is it true? Is she your fiance? Are you engaged to that woman?”
His expression softened, and he pulled back slightly to look into your eyes. “Yes, but—”
He held your gaze, his shoulders slumping slightly. “Yes, but—”
Before he could finish, you slipped out of his hold, pulling on your own clothes as if it would shield you from him. Seungcheol reached for your arm again, but you swatted his hand away. Seemingly frustrated, he tugged your shoulders so you would face him.
“Please listen to me.” He reached for your arm again, frustration crossing his face as he gently tugged you to face him. “Jiwon is only engaged to me because of our families’ wishes. It’s a business arrangement, nothing more.”
You tried to absorb his words, but all you could think about was how little you actually knew about him. “But that doesn’t change the fact that you’re engaged to someone else.”
He sighed. “It’s not that hard to deal with it. I can even go ahead and break it off right now.”
You pushed him away, stepping back to keep a distance between you. “Alright, fine! Let’s say it is that easy to break it off, but that’s not the point, Cheol. You were engaged with another woman. It doesn’t matter what the circumstances were, the fact that you couldn’t tell me—your girlfriend—something so important? That is the problem!”
“I’m sorry,” Seungcheol sighed. “I never meant to keep it from you. I just want to protect you from all this chaos. I know I should’ve been honest from the start. I’m sorry.”
Your gaze didn’t falter, not even after his heartfelt apology. “I hardly know anything about you, Seungcheol. Who were you before becoming such a successful businessman? How did you grow up? What’s your family like? Did you have a good childhood? You never told me any of these things.”
Seungcheol’s brow furrowed, and he took a deep breath. “I thought it didn’t matter. My life was uninteresting until I met you.”
“But I want to be a part of your life, and for that to happen, you need to open yourself up to me the same way I’ve bared my heart and soul to you.” Your voice trembled as you spoke, frustration mingling with despair. “I don’t know what reasons you have, but all I know is that your refusal to share the intimate details about yourself implies that I am just a temporary phase in your wonderful life.”
“That’s not true!” Without hesitating, he reached out to cup your face. “I’ll bring you into my life. I’ll show you everything—my family, my past, my business. I want you to understand who I am, and I want you to be a part of it all.”
His sincerity pierced through the haze of hurt clouding your mind. You wanted to believe him, to trust that there was more to him than the wealth and the privilege that surrounded his world. But doubt still lingered in your heart.
“I swear,” he added, his gaze unwavering. “I’ll do whatever it takes to make this work. Just don’t walk away from me now.”
His words hung between you, a lifeline in the storm of confusion. You felt the warmth of his body against yours, a reminder of the connection you had built. It was fragile, but it was real. And in that moment, you wanted to fight for it.
You nodded slowly, wiping the tears from your cheeks. “Okay. But you have to promise to be open with me. No more secrets.”
Relief flooded his features, his soft smile brimming with gratitude. “I promise.”
As you felt his arms around you again, you found yourself holding onto hope, even as questions lingered in your mind, waiting to be answered.
Seungcheol’s promise of taking you to meet his family came sooner than later. His parents always held a regular family dinner in the grand hall of their estate, the kind you’d only seen in movies. Chandeliers hung low from the ceiling, casting a soft glow over tables with silver cutlery that gleamed as if they’d never been touched. Seungcheol’s hand stayed firm around yours as you walked in/
He had told you about his family situation before coming here. His mother remarried when he was a kid, and while his stepfather wasn’t hard on him in any way, he wasn’t exactly affectionate either. And that lack of connection made Seungcheol feel distant from him, causing him to feel like he didn’t really belong in the family.
He leaned in, whispering, “Stay by my side, okay?” You nodded, but even his warmth couldn’t ward off the unease settling in your chest.
Seungcheol introduced you to his mother first, a graceful woman with soft eyes and a welcoming smile that made you feel at ease, if only briefly. “It’s so lovely to meet you,” she said, her hands clasping yours warmly. “Seungcheol’s told me about you.”
“Nice to meet you too,” you replied, trying to keep your voice steady.
Just as she was about to say more, a tall, sharp-featured man walked over—the infamous stepdad. He nodded curtly, his handshake firm but impersonal. “So, you’re the one Seungcheol’s been seeing.” His voice was low, with an edge that made it hard to gauge if he was simply reserved or disapproving.
“Yes, sir,” you replied, and though he made no further comment, his cool gaze lingered on you for a moment before he turned away to greet another guest. You glanced at Seungcheol, who gave you a small, reassuring squeeze of your hand.
As the evening wore on, you began to feel the walls closing in. Each relative seemed to carry an opinion, judging you silently, as though Seungcheol’s mere association with you was an odd choice they couldn’t understand. While his parents were civil, the whispered conversations and lingering looks from his extended family didn’t go unnoticed by you.
As if that wasn’t enough, Jiwon was there too and she made her hostility impossible to ignore. She was seated just across the table, her gaze flicking over to you now and then with a displeased expression. Eventually, she leaned over when Seungcheol stepped away to speak with his mother.
“You surprise me, seriously,” she said, eyes sparkling with a smugness you couldn’t miss. “Where did you get the nerve to come here, meet his entire family, and act as if you would ever be an actual part of his life?”
You sighed, careful not to let your emotions show. “Say whatever you want. I’m here for Seungcheol, not you.”
“Hmm,” she hummed, lips curving in a faint smirk. “I hope you can keep that attitude. His parents may be civil, but everyone else?” Her eyes swept over the hall and you couldn’t help copying her.
The unease in your chest transformed into an unsettling fear as you caught the sharp gazes of the other family members. It was as if you’d found yourself thrown into a den of venomous snakes waiting for a chance to attack.
“Seungcheol’s life is complicated, you see,” Jiwon said in your ear, her voice low. “If you think your love—or whatever you think you have, is enough to conquer all of this, then, good luck.”
You clenched your hands in your lap, holding back the urge to respond, knowing anything you said would only give her more satisfaction. The evening continued in much the same way, the subtle jabs and dismissive glances wearing you down. By the time Seungcheol returned to your side, you could barely manage a smile.
“Are you alright?” he asked, brows furrowing as he noticed the strain in your expression.
You forced a nod. “It’s just…a lot to take in.”
He sighed, eyes scanning the room as though seeing it through your eyes. “Do you wanna leave now?” he murmured. “We don’t have to stay here.”
His voice was reassuring, but it didn’t change the way you felt, and you weren’t sure anything could. Every glance, every whispered word, reminded you of the differences between you and the world Seungcheol lived in. Your heart felt heavy with the painful realization.
“Let’s get out of here,” you whispered, forcing a smile to at least offer comfort for him.
As you waited for Seungcheol to finish his goodbyes to his parents, an elderly aunt approached you, her lips pursed in a look of utter disapproval. She regarded you up and down, her eyes narrowing as though you were something stuck to the bottom of her shoe.
“So, you’re the fling,” she muttered, her voice dripping with disdain. “That ungrateful brat. If he had even the tiniest ounce of self-respect, he wouldn’t parade some crook in front of the people who raised him.” She let out a dry chuckle, glancing pointedly at the oblivious Seungcheol. “He’s not even a part of this family. The least he could do was have enough decorum to not disrespect the fiance picked out for him.”
You felt the blood drain from your face at her words as they echoed bitterly in your mind, ripping through the thin layers of composure you had left. You thought you could endure it, but the attack on Seungcheol stung sharper than any quiet insult directed at you all evening.
As you settled into the car, a heavy silence lingered between you and Seungcheol. He shot a worried glance your way, brow furrowing as he took in your strained expression.
“What happened back there?” he asked, his voice gentle.
You looked down, fiddling with your fingers. You opened your mouth, but all that came out was a shaky breath. It felt as though the right words were slipping through your fingers, too fragile to grasp. You took a deep breath, willing your heart to calm down.
Finally, you met his gaze, and the words tumbled out before you could stop them. “I don’t think I belong in your world, Seungcheol.”
His expression shifted, shock clouding his features. “What are you talking about? Of courses, you belong in my world. That there is not mine. It never was.”
You shook your head, holding back the tears that threatened to spill over. “Your family, your friends… the life you come from—it’s so different from everything I know. Tonight just proved that to me, over and over again.” You paused, voice catching in your throat. “I can’t pretend like it doesn’t matter.”
“Who cares what they think?” he countered, his voice rising with frustration. “You’re not dating them, you’re with me. I’m not gonna lose you over this.”
The hurt in his voice tugged at your resolve, but the memories of those sneering faces and whispered words echoed in your mind. You bit your lip, unable to hold his gaze any longer. There was so much you wanted to say—how you didn’t want his family’s disapproval of you to affect how they saw him. The thought of him facing endless judgment and criticism for choosing you, no matter how strong he was, filled you with an aching guilt.
You looked out the car window, gathering your thoughts before speaking. Then, with a quiet voice, you asked, “Why did you date me, Seungcheol? If you knew everyone would be against it?”
Seungcheol’s hands tightened on the steering wheel as he drove. “I don’t care what they think. I care about you. You’re the only one I want.”
His words felt sincere, but it only frustrated you more. “Just tell me why?” You turned to him, voice trembling. “Why did you stay in that remote hotel just to spend time with me? Why did you sleep with me? No—actually, let’s go back to the very beginning, why did you ask me to tell you about my exes in the first place?”
He pulled the car to a stop outside your building, silence stretching between you. Finally, he sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “I just wanted to hear it,” he admitted, his voice soft, almost uncertain.
“Yes, but out of all the people, why me?” You leaned closer, searching his face for answers.
“Because I didn’t know what love is!” he burst out, cutting through your frustration. The rawness in his voice made you pause, your breath hitching at the vulnerability laid bare before you.
“I didn’t single you out. You just happened to be there, and I was desperate.” His frustration spilled over as he punched the heel of his palm on the steering wheel. “I didn't know what love felt like or how it looked. I had an idea, but it wasn’t enough to grasp the whole concept.”
You watched him, heart aching as he avoided your gaze as if it shamed him to tell you all of this. “I thought that maybe I just needed someone else’s perspective. Maybe if I could find someone who’s willing to let me in on their experience of love and being loved, I would come to understand it.”
“Cheol…” you trailed off, heart heavy with sympathy.
“I didn’t mean for it to be you,” he continued, eyes distant, lost in his memories. “You rejected my offer and that was it. I was ready to look elsewhere, but then you came to me and said you’d tell me. I was grateful and I looked forward to it. I was only there for the stories, for your perspective. But then… but then I saw you.”
His gaze flickered to yours, softening with affection. “I saw that you’re the type who wears your heart on your sleeve. I noticed how your eyes twinkled at the happy memories, how your face fell with the sad. You offered the most sensible insights about love and relationships—you made it so easy to understand.”
“I didn’t mean for it to happen,” he confessed, leaning his head back against the headrest, exhaling slowly as if releasing a weight. “But the more you spoke about love and its beauty, the stronger I was pulled toward you. You intrigued me, and made me curious about you. I stayed awake all night, looking forward to seeing you again and being greeted by that vibrant smile. I…”
Seungcheol took a deep breath, his eyes locking onto yours again, revealing the depth of his feelings. “I fell in love with you, and I didn’t even know that’s what it was until right now.”
You couldn’t find your tongue, utterly dumbfounded by his confession and the raw honesty he was willing to share. Your heart raced with confusion, empathy, and heartbreak, making it difficult to breathe. How could he feel this way yet remain so unaware of the consequences?
You wished you could fully embrace this moment, but the reality of the world outside felt suffocating. Would this love be enough to bridge the gap between your worlds? Did that world even matter when Seungcheol was ready to leave it all behind, defying everything just to be with you?
“Choi Seungcheol you…” you trailed off, and you never got to finish what you were supposed to say.
It has been over a year since you last came home. The familiar sights and sounds of your hometown wrapped around you like a warm embrace. You strolled through the tree-lined streets, savoring the laughter and chatter of families and children playing in the parks. Every corner held a memory, a fragment of your childhood and your youth, and it felt good to reconnect with your old life.
One afternoon, you decided to explore the downtown area, a vibrant hub that had seen its fair share of changes over the years, though it looked almost the same as when you left it last year as a heartbroken woman determined to pick yourself up from the god-awful slump you’d found yourself in. As you wandered through the streets, your heart swelled with nostalgia. The familiar shops, cafes, and the old movie theater brought back a flood of memories.
As you passed by the sleek glass building that housed Vernon’s company, a wave of pride washed over you. You couldn’t help but marvel at his accomplishments. You had always known he was meant to succeed, and it felt rewarding to see him thrive in a world that was once a part of you but not felt so distant. You paused for a moment, contemplating your lives, wondering how he was doing now. And while you hoped he was doing great, you had no intention of checking in on him. You knew better.
At home, after a cold shower, you found your phone buzzing incessantly on your bed. You opened a message notification and found yourself added to a group chat with your old friends from senior year of college. The lively banter and enthusiastic greetings flooded your screen, and you couldn’t help but smile.
Lea: 🎉 Heyyy guys! Guess who’s finally in the group chat?! Mina: My girlie! I missed you! Lea: I added her last because her account was deactivated a few days ago. So mysterious 😏 Seokmin: My honeybunch sugar plump! I missed you! You: you guys are so energetic lmao Hoshi: Hi hiiii! Don’t worry. It’s a bit awkward talking to your ex on here but it gets easier lol lol Mina: IDK. You’re the only one who feels that way. You: 😳 Can we not bring up exes? Seokmin: @/wonwoo Hoshi: @/wonwoo Junhui: @/wonwoo You: You know what guy? Fuck you Wonwoo: 😅😅😅
The conversation flowed effortlessly as you reminisced about inside jokes, embarrassing moments, and late-night study sessions. It felt like no time had passed at all.
Jill: What’s everyone up to these days? I feel like I’m in a time warp! Mina: I just got a promotion at work! 🎊 Now I’m officially a project manager! Seokmin: Nice, Minmina! What’s your secret? Mina: Coffee and panic! Hoshi: Did you guys hear about Wonwoo? He’s working at a big company in London now! You: Really? That’s amazing! Junhui: Living his dream fr! Proud of you man! Hoshi: And he’s also dating a supermodel now, right? Seokmin: Ugh, goals. 🤩 Wonwoo: False. Guys don’t listen to him, he’s an idiot Mina: Some things never change. Hoshi: HEY LOW BLOW! YOU USED TO TELL ME I WAS YOUR IDIOT? Junhui: smells like a comeback
The chat continued to buzz with excitement as everyone chimed in, sharing their own updates and encouraging each other to reconnect. You felt a warmth spread through you, a reminder of the bonds that had shaped your past. You found out later on that Lea made the group chat to tell everyone she was getting married. You spent the rest of the afternoon lost in conversation, laughing and sharing memories.
On the fourth day of your weeklong leave, you walked down the busy sidewalk of the downtown area again, running an errand for your mom who had asked you to buy some bread. When you turned a corner, you almost collided with a couple exiting the same corner.
“Jiwon?” you exclaimed, stepping back in surprise. Of all the people you could run into, Jiwon was the last person you’d expected. “What are you doing here?” you asked, eyes flitting back and forth between her and the guy she was clinging on to.
“Hi! It’s been ages,” she greeted exaggeratedly, catching you off guard. She smiled, though you could see the flicker of uncertainty in her eyes. “I didn’t expect to run into you. Do you want to grab a coffee and catch up?”
You hesitated for a moment, unsure where this was going. She turned to the man beside her. “She’s an old friend. Can you go back first? I wanna catch up with her for a bit.”
“Alright, no problem,” he chimed, kissing Jiwon briefly and then smiling at you before he walked away.
As you settled into a cozy café, the aroma of freshly brewed coffee enveloped you both. You were reluctant to join her, but curiosity got the best of you. She spoke first and the initial awkwardness began to fade as you exchanged pleasantries. But soon, she leaned forward, a serious expression on her face.
Is she worried you’d tell someone that you saw her with another guy? Maybe. She was probably gonna ask that you keep it a secret. That was what you were thinking while she was hesitating to speak.
“Do you love Seungcheol?” she asked suddenly, her voice barely above a whisper.
You blinked, taken aback by the question. “What does that have to do with you?”
Jiwon sighed, her shoulders sagging as if the weight of the world pressed down on her. “I just... I need to know if there’s a chance. I mean, if you could make it so we didn’t have to marry each other, that would be great.”
“Why?” You couldn’t help but challenge her. “That has nothing to do with me.”
She shook her head, frustration lining her features. “I’d hate to tell you this since we’re not close, but I’m the oldest in my family with no brothers, and misogyny is a thing that runs deep into my father and forefathers’ bloodstream. I could never be heir to my family’s estate so I have to marry a rich man and produce a male heir.”
You winced before you could stop yourself. What a backward way of thinking, you thought to yourself. But who am I to judge? “You’re free to follow your traditions.”
“That’s the thing, I don’t want to follow tradition. I don’t even want the estate. My boyfriend is wealthy too, but they preferred Seungcheol over anyone else.” She paused, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “I’m sorry for being mean to you before. I have no excuse. I just felt it was unfair that Seungcheol gets to openly date someone he genuinely liked while I can’t.”
You felt a surge of empathy for her, a realization that her harshness stemmed from her own insecurities and the pressure she faced. But you kept your thoughts to yourself, knowing that to her, any hint of pity would only feel like an insult. While you empathize with her, that didn’t excuse her actions before. She was rude and mean, regardless of her personal problems, she had no right to take it out on other people.
You leaned back in your chair, adopting an arrogant demeanor. “I’m not going to love Seungcheol to do you a favor. If that happens, the reason would simply be the fact that it’s how I really feel.”
Her expression faltered, surprise mixing with frustration.
“And honestly,” you continued, your voice steady, “I couldn’t care less about your issues, or what happens with the agreement between your families. If Seungcheol chooses me, then that’s all the reason I need to fight for our love.”
You didn’t want to tell her what to do, nor offer any advice—you were not in a level of familiarity where you could do that. You didn’t even want to confess your love for Seungcheol to anyone else, but it was your way of subtly supporting Jiwon’s pursuit of true love. It was up to her to interpret.
Jiwon looked down at her coffee, deep in thought. You hoped she was thinking about her options. “I guess that’s fair,” she murmured finally, her voice barely audible.
You watched her for a moment, curious about the vulnerability she’d hidden behind arrogance and pride. Perhaps, in another life, you could have been friends. But in this one, you were on opposing sides, each fighting for your own happiness.
As you walked home, the weight of your conversation with Jiwon lingered in your mind but you were feeling lighter as if a thorn had been pulled out of your chest. You pushed open the front gate, the familiar sound of creaking hinges echoing in the quiet evening. Your heart raced at the thought of what the future held for you and Seungcheol. You tried to get him out of your mind, but now you miss him so badly.
“Hey,” came a familiar voice and made you stop in your tracks. Standing at your front porch, silhouetted against the soft glow of the porch light, was Choi Seungcheol.
“Cheol?” you whispered, eyes wide. You took a step closer, your pulse quickening.
He sighed. “I know I said I’d give you time, and I promised not to bother you while you’re trying to collect your thoughts, but…” His voice cracked slightly, the vulnerability evident in his tone. “I can’t help it. I miss you so much I felt like I was gonna die.”
The sincerity in his words struck you like a bolt of lightning. It pierced through the confusion and doubt that had clouded your mind before you left him a few days ago.
You smiled, walking up to him and pulling him into a tight hug. Seungcheol hugged you back, gripping you so tight that it felt like you would soon melt into his very skin. With his tight embrace and the soft, slow kiss that followed, you knew you were ready to fight for your love, no matter the challenges that lay ahead.
Your family took to Seungcheol like they’d known him for a long time. Watching him charm his way through conversations with your parents, sharing laughs with your siblings, you couldn’t help but feel pride swell in your chest. Seungcheol fit in effortlessly, his laughter echoing alongside theirs, his smile as warm and familiar as home itself. He would glance over at you, eyes shining with that unmistakable spark, and your heart would skip every time.
That evening, you invited him out for a walk after dinner, where he wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close as he murmured your name again and again. His voice was soft, as if every syllable of your name was a song he needed to sing.
“You’ll be sick of that name if you don’t stop saying it,” you chided softly as you both settled on a park bench.
“You think so?” he asked, genuinely curious. “That can’t happen.”
You grinned as you watched him zip his mouth. When he glanced at you and saw you smiling, his eyes softened with immense affection. You took the chance to make fun of him. “You like me that much?”
Seungcheol didn’t say anything, instead he let out a long sigh of what sounded like relief and helplessness. That made you raise an eyebrow. “Okay, that’s too much. You’re exaggerating at this point.”
“Am I?” he questioned, more to himself. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I’m so obsessed with you.”
“I think you’re trying to say you love me,” you quipped, leaning on his chest and basking in his warmth.
“Yes. Fuck that. I do,” he replied, tightening his arms around you and kissing the top of your head. “It’s true that I’m obsessed with you though.”
When it was time to return to the city, Seungcheol was practically vibrating with excitement. He bade your family goodbye, leaving with a promise to visit over the holidays. You sat in the train with him, reading a book with your head on his shoulder while he answered emails on his tablet.
Back in the city, your relationship reverted back to its usual steady course, navigating days of blissful highs and small, inevitable disagreements. Dinners were still a regular thing, though instead of the restaurants, you spent more of it in your homes, sharing home-cooked meals. You cooked together most of the time, laughter echoing in the kitchen as you worked together with ease. Sometimes, his busy schedule left him tired and withdrawn, but he’d still text you, asking about your day, eager to connect even in the smallest of ways. And whenever you argued, his sincerity cut through the tension—he’d listen, apologize if needed, and somehow make everything feel right again.
Your days were made special by small, loving gestures: the way he’d bring you your favorite coffee, or how he’d lean in to whisper something funny during a crowded gathering. You often made him his favorite food, even helping him keep a tidy appearance every day at work. He had sworn that he never needed sunscreen at work, but since you made him use some, Seungcheol has never stopped buying it regularly.
Through it all, he treated you the same—if anything, with more care and respect than ever before. Every little moment, every shared smile, built a quiet foundation of trust and affection, one that felt stronger with each passing day.
And today, as the glow of candlelight flickered across the apartment, you swayed gently with Seungcheol, your arms wrapped loosely around his shoulders, soft music filling the room. It had been a perfect evening: the surprise dinner, his careful planning, and the way he looked at you as though he couldn’t believe you were really there with him.
He held you close, his hands settling comfortably at your waist, pulling you just a little nearer. “Did you like the dinner?” he murmured, his breath warm against your hair.
“It was wonderful,” you replied, resting your head against his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart. Then, with a smirk, you looked up at him. “But if you’re planning to propose right now, please don’t. I’m not ready to even talk about it.”
He chuckled, his laugh vibrating against you as he shook his head. “Relax, I’m not proposing,” he said, his eyes crinkling with amusement. “We’re not there yet. We still need plenty of time to figure things out.”
You were relieved to hear that, but even with his agreement, the idea was taking shape in your mind. You realized that you couldn’t imagine a future where he wasn’t beside you, bringing out a side of yourself that you’d thought had faded long ago. He was patient, steadfast, and the way he looked at you told you he was here to stay, whether or not there was a ring.
“I love you, Seungcheol,” you whispered, almost to yourself. “Before this, I thought I’d never find love again. I’d convinced myself that I was… I don’t know, incapable of this, given my history. I told myself that there’d never be anyone who would fit.” You hesitated, wondering if he would understand, if he could feel what you couldn’t quite say.
Seungcheol’s hand gently tilted your chin up so your eyes met his. “I don’t believe that for a second,” he said softly. “You were always going to find someone. I just got lucky that it was me.”
The corners of your mouth lifted, a warmth spreading through your chest. He was right there, looking at you as if you were all that mattered. This was more than just a moment, more than just the fleeting connection you had once feared it to be. Choi Seungcheol had somehow become the unexpected twist in your life, the chapter you hadn’t known you needed. And as the two of you continued to dance, you realized with quiet certainty that this was just the real beginning—your beginning, together.
[fin]
#scoups x reader#seungcheol x reader#scoups smut#svt au#svt x reader#svt fluff#svt scoups#scoups x you#choi seungcheol#svt fanfic#seventeen x reader#seventeen imagines#seventeen fluff#seventeen scenarios#scoups fic#seventeen fanfic#seungcheol fluff#seungcheol smut#seungcheol imagines#seungcheol x you#scoups fluff#scoups imagines#seventeen smut
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Hiii the last chapter will come out this week?
Foreseen circumstances that were totally well within my control had caused me to move posting date to Monday, 10.28. ily guys. Thanks for patiently looking forward to HBH every week.
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petition to get the jeno fics out of the drafts 🙏
oH you mean get the jeno fics out of the vault?
K. I'll see myself out.
#sorry about that#sometimes i can't help but grab when the opportunity to bring up taylor swift arises#bye
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otp??? otp :>
just kidding. it's only in the HBH au. i don't ship them irl. seeing their pics next to each other in my pinterest feed as soon as I opened the site caught me off guard tho lmao (in a goooood way)
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I am honored and thankful. you're too kind and this means a lot to me as a writer. I'll continue trying my best and writing more stories that will resonate with you guys and make you feel feelings.
Take a Chance With Me | j.ww (18+)
You could not believe that no one ever told you how frustrating (and beautiful) it was to be hopelessly captivated by a boy who thinks love is overrated.
one | two | three | four | five
Genre: college au, strangers to lovers, slow burn Pairing: Jeon Wonwoo x afab!Reader Warnings: fluff fluff, she fell first he fell harder kinda slow burn lol, mature themes, explicit sexual content (18+) Notes: 25k words. Part 3 of the Heartbreak Hotel series, but it can be read as a standalone fic. Listening to Take a Chance with Me by NIKI. Longer fic because writing this was my coping mechanism for the devastating tragedy that was Backburner. Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. I do not know them personally and do not claim they would ever behave like they were portrayed in this story.
Playlist: Take a Chance with Me by NIKI, Forces by Japanese Wallpaper, I Think He Knows by Taylor Swift, Taglist: @katfaceu @mansaaay @scoupsjin @iarayara @gaslysainz @silvermist002 @ssmebody @alyssa19123456
Jeon Wonwoo’s story began one hot evening, just two weeks into your senior year of college. It was at a party—one where you’d arrived late after a supposedly quick pre-game session with your girlfriends at Lea’s apartment turned into a full-on mini-party on its own. You’d almost ditched the party altogether, but Mina said she had to meet this guy at the party, or she’d regret it forever. Of course, she was exaggerating at the time, but you went anyway.
You were the designated driver since you were the only one who didn’t drink, which was because you were late even to the pre-game. Some things just never change, and being late is one of your many talents.
As soon as you pulled up to the driveway of the party venue, your friends rushed out of the car and into the house, leaving you behind to park. Just as you were stepping out of your car, you spotted Wonwoo—tall standing next to the lamppost, and handsome under the yellow-orange glow of the light. He was attractive—the slight flush on his cheeks, his skin glowing under the lamplight, and even in simple square glasses and a plain white tee, he radiated a quiet confidence that made you pause.
He was cute. And he was heading toward you.
Why though? Did he want to talk to you? Maybe get your number? Oh my god. What are you gonna do?
You stood frozen, heart pounding in your chest as Wonwoo closed the gap between you. Sure, he wasn’t the first guy to ever approach you, but he was cute, and it was ridiculous how fast you were crushing on him.
He’s coming, you told yourself, glancing around casually, trying not to look too eager. But just as he was about three steps away—bam! He hit the ground, limbs sprawled out in every direction.
You gasped, rushing over. “Oh my God, are you okay?”
He groaned, kicked at the offending rock that had tripped him, and then dramatically flopped onto the grass as if it had betrayed him too.
You crouched beside him, waving a hand in front of his face. “Hey, you alright?”
Wonwoo blinked up at the sky, glaring like the stars were personally out to get him. Then, locking his glassy eyes on yours, he said, “Hi. My asshole friends abandoned me here.” He hiccupped. “I’m kinda drunk and you’re kinda gorgeous. Would you be so kind to help me out?”
Caught off guard by his random compliment, you chuckled. “Here, let me help you up,” you said, tugging his arm, trying to haul him back to a sitting position. “You can walk, right? You were walking just now.”
“Walking’s overrated,” he muttered, but with your help, he managed to get back on his feet, wobbling slightly.
You told him your name. “What’s yours? Where do you live? Do you need a ride?”
He opened his mouth to speak but someone suddenly appeared beside him, patting his chest. It was Hoshi. “There you are, Wonwoo. We’ve been looking all over for you!”
“Hosh! You know this guy?” you asked.
“Look,” Wonwoo said, turning to you and pointing a very unsteady finger at his friend. “See that? Fake friend. Never trust people who abandon you.”
“What are you talking about? You’re the one who wandered off!”
Wonwoo smirked, leaning in as if sharing a deep truth. “People who gaslight you aren’t your friends. Don’t forget that.”
“I can’t believe I ditched my girl for this. Okay, that's enough from you.” Hoshi slung Wonwoo’s arm over his shoulder. “Where’s that idiot Jun? Junhui!”
A second later, a man came jogging toward you. “Found him?”
“Yeah, help me get him out of here,” Hoshi said, struggling to hold up Wonwoo’s weight.
Jun smiled apologetically at you as they shifted Wonwoo’s arm off your shoulder. “He seems like a handful, but he’s nice sometimes.”
You stepped back, watching them as they wrangled him toward a black pickup truck. “He doesn’t seem that drunk, though.”
Jun chuckled. “You’d be surprised. One time he got wasted and started working on a coding project. Finished the whole thing in one sitting.”
“Didn’t even remember it the next day,” Hoshi added, making a mock exploding gesture at his temple.
You couldn’t help laughing, finding it both amusing and adorable that a fine man like him would have such drinking habits.
“Anyway, thanks again,” Hoshi said, flashing you a quick grin as they started loading Wonwoo into the truck.
“Bye, gorgeous lady!” Wonwoo called from the back seat, waving weakly. “I love you!”
Jun scoffed. “You don’t even know her name.”
“Who cares what you think, Jun? You’re a fake friend!”
You couldn’t help but laugh again, waving them off as the truck pulled away. Standing there, you found yourself thinking about Wonwoo—strangely intrigued by this cute, clumsy guy. But before you could dwell on it for too long, you heard Lea’s voice calling your name from inside the house.
“Why are you out here alone? Let’s go!”
You skipped toward her, linking arms as she pulled you inside. “I just met the cutest guy ever.”
If Seungcheol’s face wasn’t the first thing you saw as you stepped into the pool pavilion, you wouldn’t have recognized him at all. His neat blue suit from yesterday had been swapped for something far more relaxed—crisp white pants and a cream button-up that made him look more… approachable. He greeted you the moment you arrived, gesturing to the lounge chair beside his.
“I ordered cocktails,” he said, motioning to the bellinis on the table. “But I took liberties since I didn’t know what you like.”
“You didn’t have to include me, but thanks,” you smiled, taking one of the flutes.
Seungcheol watched you take your first sip before saying, “So, what depressing tale would you be telling me today?”
You coughed, choking very slightly on your drink. “You said you wouldn’t judge.”
He shrugged, leaning back on the chair and fixing his eyes at the infinity pool. “I wasn’t judging. My expectations are based on past experiences. In this case, the experience was yesterday’s story. It was quite heavy.”
“Exactly,” you nodded, setting your glass down. “Yesterday was intense, so I’m dialing it down today with a lighter story about my favorite ex.”
“You have a favorite ex?”
“As a matter of fact, I do,” you replied, rolling your eyes. “But that’s not the point. Do you wanna hear it or not?”
Seungcheol nodded. “Please. Proceed.”
“Alright.” You took a sip of your drink before starting. “His name is Jeon Wonwoo.”
THE DAY after you'd first met him at that party, you’d prioritized looking for Wonwoo. Living in the on-campus dorms gave you time to walk around the campus before your class. The problem was, you didn’t know where to start. Your friends could swear they were sick of you, gushing about him and retelling the story of how he called you gorgeous and basically confessed his love for you in under five minutes of meeting each other.
“I know he was drunk, Jill. But people say you become more honest when you’re drunk,” you insisted, not even trying to hide your excitement as you scanned the cafeteria for any sign of him.
“What’s his name anyway?” Mina asked, scowling slightly as she watched you crane your neck, practically spinning in your seat.
“Wonwoo. I don’t know his last name.”
Mina scoffed. “Wonwoo? Aren’t you like neighbors?”
You stopped mid-scan, turning to her with wide eyes. “We’re WHAT?”
As it turned out, Wonwoo lived in the on-campus dorm too. He and Hoshi were roommates, and you only knew this because, apparently, the guy Mina just had to meet at last night’s party was Hoshi.
“You’re telling me I’ve been looking around campus for him like a lunatic when he’s been right under my nose this whole time?” you asked, clutching your pearls.
Jill snorted into her iced coffee. “You’ve been obsessed for, what? Twelve hours?”
“Thirteen,” you corrected. “But who’s counting?”
For a while, you tried catching glimpses of Wonwoo around your apartment complex. You even took slightly longer routes on campus, hoping to spot him by chance between classes or during meals. But every time, you came up empty—no sign of him at all.
“Just where does this hot specimen hide his gorgeous self?” you grumbled. “It’s been three days.”
Lea watched you with a glimmer in her eyes. “This is a first. You’ve had crushes before but never hyper-fixated on one until now.”
“Right? I was just thinking the same thing,” Jill affirmed.
“There’s no one like him,” you gushed, tilting your head dreamily. “I think he might be the one.”
Mina choked on her drink. “You’re not serious.”
You laughed, stroking her back gently. “Of course not. I’m just having fun, guys. Relax.”
“Anyway, why don’t you just ask Hoshi?” Jill suggested, sounding like the only sane one in the group.
Oh. Right. Hoshi. Why didn’t you think of that earlier? You paused, considering the idea. It was practical. Sensible.
“Do you think that’s weird? Just asking out of nowhere?” you asked, biting your lip.
“You’re the one who’s been running around campus like a headless chicken,” Mina pointed out dryly. “Asking Hoshi would be a lot less weird than that.”
You smiled at Mina, batting your eyelashes prettily. “Ask him for me.”
Mina swatted your hand away when you tried to hold her. “We’re not talking right now. And no, I won’t tell you why.”
You grimaced. “Well, no one’s asking!”
Jill laughed. “Just go to Hoshi. You guys are friends. And it’s not like you’re asking for Wonwoo’s hand in marriage. You’re just curious.”
“Alright, alright,” you relented, standing up from the table. “I’ll ask Hoshi.”
Mina gave you a thumbs up as you left the cafeteria, heading out to start your quest. You just hoped your heart didn’t explode from the anticipation before you got there.
You spotted Hoshi in the dance room, drinking water after practice. Perfect. You strode over, determined but trying to keep it cool. He saw you coming and grinned, clearly already knowing what this was about.
“Well, well, well,” Hoshi said, putting his bottle down and crossing his arms with a smirk. “What brings you to my humble corner of campus today? Or should I say... who?”
You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help laughing. “Oh, stop. I just wanna ask you something.”
“Uh-huh,” he said, leaning in conspiratorially. “You’re about to ask me where Wonwoo is, aren’t you? Don’t worry, I’ve seen this before. You’re already head over heels. It’s okay, it’s a common reaction.”
You tried to look annoyed, but your lips twitched, betraying you. “Fine. Yes. Where is he?”
Hoshi raised his eyebrows, looking overly impressed with himself. “See? I’m basically psychic. I should be charging for my services.”
“Just tell me!” You lightly shoved him.
“Okay, okay,” he chuckled, clearly enjoying himself. “He’s usually holed up in the tech building, doing nerd stuff. You know, coding, hacking the mainframe, whatever those guys do.” He waved a hand in the air. “Oh, and I’m gonna tell you this only because you and I are tight—you’re gonna need to bring a snack. Wonwoo’s been known to forget to eat when he’s in the zone.”
You crossed your arms, half-joking but half-serious. “What’s that supposed to mean? Do I need to worry about him starving to death before I even get the chance to talk to him?”
“Maybe,” Hoshi said, eyes twinkling. “But hey, if he does, I’ll make sure his last words are something romantic. Like, ‘Tell her... she was... gorgeous.’”
“Oh my god, you’re impossible,” you groaned, turning to walk away, though you couldn’t help laughing.
He called after you, still grinning. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you! And hey—if you need a wingman, you know where to find me!”
Now you had a solid lead... and maybe a ridiculous wingman if things got really desperate. But most importantly, you had a plan: bump into him casually.
You spent the next few days timing your trips past the IT building. At first, it felt silly—pretending like you were just ‘happening to walk by’—but today, your patience paid off. There he was, standing just outside the doors, tapping away on his phone. Your heart fluttered the second you saw Wonwoo, that same flush you remembered from the night before creeping up your neck.
You were about to walk over, but then a group of people spilled out from the building, laughing loudly as they passed by Wonwoo. You turned away, worried someone might recognize you. As soon as they were far enough, you spun back to see Wonwoo, only to find him gone.
You sighed. “Next time.”
The next time came—several next times, actually. You just couldn’t land the perfect opportunity! The universe was against you, you could swear with how each encounter was always interrupted by other people, unexpected circumstances, and now, even the weather!
You stared at the sky with a deadpan expression. “Really? Just tell me you don’t want me to shoot my shot with him, why don’t you?” you spoke to the sky, as if it would respond.
You were supposed to do your routine attempt at ‘bumping into Wonwoo’ but the rain started pouring right when you stepped out of your building. As if that wasn’t bad enough, you didn’t bring an umbrella with you. You sighed, scuffing your shoe against the pavement, debating whether to make a run for it or just wait it out.
“Maybe I’m just unlucky?” you muttered to yourself.
Staring at your feet, you noticed a new pair falling into step beside you. You looked up and gasped audibly upon seeing Jeon Wonwoo standing there with an umbrella in his hand. He looked as handsome as you remembered—neat appearance, well-kept hair, and his glasses that suited his face perfectly.
“Wonwoo!” you exclaimed, making him glance at you.
He scanned you for a second. “I’m sorry. I don’t think I know you.”
You told him your name—clearly and in full. “We met at the party last Friday,” you smiled, hoping he’d remember.
“Oh, I met a lot of people that night.”
“You called me nice and gorgeous?” you offered, gouging a reaction from him, but so far—nothing. “And, uh, you also kinda said you love me.”
Wonwoo blinked, clearly taken aback. “Did I?” You saw the confusion in his expression, followed by a flicker of embarrassment. He looked away, his jaw tensing slightly. “Sorry, I don’t remember any of that,” he said, his voice softer, but there was no warmth in it. It felt more like a brush-off.
“Yeah, it’s okay,” you said, waving it off casually. “You were really drunk, so I guess it makes sense.” You grinned, hoping the playful tone might make the moment less embarrassing
He seemed like an entirely different person. He was fun that night, sweet even. Was that a one-off thing?
For a moment, neither of you spoke. The sound of the rain pounding on the concrete was oddly loud. You could feel your heart hammering in your chest, not entirely sure if you should say something or just let it go.
“Well, then. I should go.”
You nodded. “Of course. It was nice seeing you.”
You watched him walk into the rain, dry and safe under his umbrella. You couldn’t help but scoff. If it was the Wonwoo you’d met that night, he would probably share his umbrella with you.
“What a bummer,” you muttered, looking down at your feet again as you kicked your tiptoes on the floor.
You kept your gaze there, replaying the encounter with Wonwoo and how awful it made you feel. You barely noticed the car that pulled over in front of you until you heard someone call your full name.
When you looked up, you saw Wonwoo in a car with his window rolled down. He turned to reach for something behind him before extending his umbrella out to you. You stepped into the rain for a second to grab it and then backed away with a confused look on your face.
“Thank you,” you called out.
He just nodded, lips tight. “Leave it to the dorm lady when you’re done with it.”
“I will!” you replied, smiling at him.
As he drove away, you waved your hand in the air, your smile getting impossibly wider as you clutched his umbrella in one hand.
Just like that, your quest to make Jeon Wonwoo fall for you was on. You chased him around—well, not really, but you seized every chance to talk to him. First, you personally delivered his umbrella to his dorm, which surprised him because obviously, he wasn’t expecting it.
When you found him at the cafeteria that day, sitting alone at a table while working on something on his laptop, you walked over with your tray and casually slid into the seat across from him.
“You look like you could use some company. Lucky for you, I could use some too. Let’s accompany each other,” you beamed, and he looked up from his laptop briefly—just to see who you were.
“I’m working,” he said, reverting his attention to his work.
You leaned forward with a grin. “I can multi-task. Do you want me to be quiet while you work?”
“Do what you want,” he said, noncommittal.
That made you perk up. As long as he didn’t tell you to leave him alone, you were fine with being quiet. He was quiet too, but didn’t seem to mind your presence. So you stayed, eating your lunch while on your phone and occasionally sneaking glances at him.
One time, you find him at the library sitting at a table with his headphones in, immersed in whatever he was working on on his screen, again. You plopped down next to him, spreading your books out.
“It appears you might need some intellectual stimulation. I’m excellent company for that too,” you said.
Without looking away from his screen, Wonwoo said, “Pass.”
“Are you coding?” you asked, ignoring his refusal.
“I'm studying.”
“For what?” you asked, leaning back to take a peek at his screen. “You're reading a book on your laptop?”
“It's convenient.”
You grimaced. “I bet you don't know what books smell like.”
“No, and I don't really wanna know,” he said, facing you. “Now, can I have some peace and quiet?”
“Oh, of course. Sorry. I’ll just be over here being pretty and smart. Don’t mind me.”
He didn’t respond, just nodded slightly, continuing to work. You watched him for a bit, playfully resting your chin in your hand.
“Wow. My man is so cute and smart,” you muttered and Wonwoo suddenly glanced sideways at you.
You looked away immediately, opening a book, and burying your face in it. Wonwoo reached for it, taking it out of your hand and flipping it.
“It’s upside down,” he said before fixing his gaze on his screen again.
If it wasn’t for your prior commitment to your friends, you would probably stay in the library until he leaves. Half-heartedly, you packed away your books and got ready to leave. Wonwoo noticed you then but didn’t say anything.
You tapped on the table next to his laptop, making him take off his headphones and look at you inquiringly.
“I was thinking of watching a movie this weekend. You’re welcome to join me.”
Wonwoo raised an eyebrow. “I don’t watch movies.”
You shook your head disapprovingly. “Guess we’ll have to change that about you.”
“Good luck with that,” he replied, putting his headphones back on.
He didn’t seem put off by your forwardness, which was all that mattered to you because it didn’t seem like you were bothering him. You were resolved to continue what you were doing.
Another time, you saw him at the gym when you were there with your friends. He was lifting weights, and you confidently strode over, showing off your figure in your gym outfit. You casually leaned over the machine he was using.
“Wow, so you’re not just working out your brain, you work out your biceps too? Impressive,” you complimented.
“I come here to avoid conversations,” he deadpanned.
“You’re still talking to me, so you’re not really doing a great job,” you chuckled.
Wonwoo sighed, but again, he didn’t tell you to leave. He just continued what he was doing, and you watched for a minute, smirking. You were enjoying yourself, despite his lack of reactions.
“I’ll be over there if you need me,” you said, winking.
“Why would I need you?” he asked, resting his hands for a second.
You shrugged. “You never know when you might.”
As you walked away, your friends were waiting for you with playful smiles. Mina said, “Girl, is it just me or are you kinda embarrassing?”
You scrunched your nose cutely at her. “I am, kinda. But it’s okay. He’ll warm up to me soon.”
You kept ‘accidentally’ bumping into him at random spots—by the vending machine, dorm hallways, the library aisles, or even walking to class despite being in different buildings.
Sometimes, you felt a little embarrassed, but you liked how fun it was to tease him and flirt with him, despite his aloof attitude. He was gonna break sooner or later, and whatever he decided to do when that happened, you were prepared to accept. You had projected about a dozen different scenarios of him confronting you, but the reality was far more unique.
“Look at us, fate keeps putting us together. Ever think the universe is trying to tell you something?” you told Wonwoo when you coincidentally (for real this time), ended up in the same college seminar together.
He stared at you. “The universe doesn’t work that way.”
Unfazed, you shrugged, opening your laptop. “Maybe not, but it’s more fun to believe it does.”
Wonwoo closed his laptop and turned his body slightly toward you. “Do you have feelings for me?”
“Yes,” you replied without missing a beat. “Wasn’t it obvious? I made sure you’d get the message though.”
He was quiet for a while, staring at you with a blank expression. After about thirty seconds, he asked, “Why?”
You shrugged, keeping your smile. “Because I do. Hey, you confessed your love to me first!”
“When did I—” he stopped and then sighed. “I don’t even remember any of that.”
“It’s okay. I remember enough for the both of us,” you teased, tilting your head with an innocent smile.
Wonwoo seemed to realize arguing wasn’t going to get him anywhere. He shook his head slowly, as if accepting defeat. “Do whatever you want, but I won’t take responsibility for your assumptions.”
“You’re not telling me to leave you alone?” you asked, raising your brows in genuine surprise.
He looked at you, baffled. “What?”
“You’re not telling me to leave you alone,” you repeated, this time more matter-of-factly. “So can I take that as a sign that I can keep following you around?”
Wonwoo grimaced, though it was more out of exasperation than irritation. “You’re not seriously going to follow me everywhere, are you?”
You grinned mischievously. “No, not really. But now that you mention it, maybe I should. What do you think?”
“Well then, leave—”
“Good afternoon, sir,” you exclaimed upon seeing the professor walk in.
You lay sprawled on Lea’s bed, eyes fixed on the ceiling, scowling. Next to you, Lea was perched on her stomach, typing away on her laptop.
“The guy’s a tough nut to crack,” you muttered, shaking your head in frustration. “Do you think… maybe he’s just not interested?”
“I thought he made that pretty clear with how he keeps brushing you off?” Lea replied, not looking up from her screen.
You sat up with a sigh just as Mina and Jill strolled into the room. “He doesn’t really brush me off though,” you argued. “More like… he lets me do whatever I want.”
“You guys talking about Wonwoo?” Mina asked and you nodded. “Hoshi is inviting him over for movie night. Apparently, he said ‘yes’.”
Your jaw dropped. “No way? He said he didn't like movies!”
Mina nodded, pulling out her phone and flashing you the screen. “I don't know the details. Hosh says he’s wingmanning you,” she added with a grin.
You squealed, grabbing Lea by the arm. “Quick! Lend me a cute dress. No! I should just go back to my dorm and get one!”
“It’s a pajama party,” Jill interrupted, sitting beside you with a bowl of ice cream in hand. “You’re supposed to wear pajamas.”
You paused, considering. “Yes, but... like, do you have a cute nightgown? Those count as pajamas too, right?”
“I do,” Jill said, shaking her head, “but I’m not lending it to you. You’ll just complain about being cold.”
You slumped back onto the bed dramatically, face-first. “Friendship is dead. It never existed.”
Lea gasped. “Jill! Not you eating ice cream on my bed!”
“Oops, sorry!” Jill mumbled, quickly getting off the bed.
You rose when you heard ice cream, following Jill off the bed and asking to share. Mina was watching you with a soft smile on her lips. Then she said, “You changed a lot, did you notice? Remember when you took a break from school when we were freshmen? You were so different back then.”
You rolled your eyes playfully, mouth full of ice cream. Jill answered for you. “That part of her life was her character development arc. It wouldn’t make sense to remind her of such a depressing time when she’s done a really good job getting over it a long time ago.”
You shot her a pair of finger guns and winked, appreciating the save.
“You’re right,” Mina said, her expression softening as she came over to hug you. “I’m just so proud of you.”
Jill joined in the hug, and Lea followed soon after, sandwiching you in the middle.
Feeling warm and fuzzy, you leaned over and kissed Mina’s cheek, only for her to pull away, grimacing. “Ew, sticky lips,” she complained, wiping the smudge of ice cream from her face.
“Sorry,” you grinned, unapologetic.
The smell of popcorn filled the apartment as you rummaged through Lea’s closet, pulling out a cozy sweatshirt that still looked stylish enough for the movie night. “This will have to do,” you muttered, tugging it on over your pajamas.
Lea, now in a matching set of flannel, raised an eyebrow. “You really think Wonwoo’s gonna notice your outfit at a pajama party?”
“I don’t know,” you admitted with a shrug. “But it’s better to be prepared.”
When you got back to the living room, the usual chaos of movie night was already in full swing. Hoshi and Jun were bickering over what movie to watch while Seokmin raided the snack stash.
Hoshi called out your name, waving you over with a mischievous grin. “Look who actually showed up.”
You froze mid-step. Wonwoo was sitting on the couch, casually leaning back with his arms folded across his chest, looking as aloof as ever. He was wearing pajamas, which was unexpected because you didn't think he'd be the type to engage in silly activities like this one, but he was cute nonetheless.
You blinked. “He’s real,” you whispered, eyes wide, and Mina stifled a laugh. To Hoshi, you said out loud, “Hosh, you’re my most favorite person in the world.”
Just as you were about to claim the spot next to Wonwoo, Jun swooped in and plopped down right where you were headed. Without thinking, you grabbed Jun by the arm. “Move!”
Jun blinked at you, laughing. “What’s going on?”
You picked up a throw pillow and hit Jun with it again and again until he moved out of your way.
“You’re ruthless,” Jun chuckled, shaking his head but laughing anyway. “Good luck.”
“Thanks,” you winked at him before turning to Wonwoo. He watched the whole thing unfold with mild amusement, shaking his head as you settled in.
“Comfortable?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Very,” you grinned, inching just a little closer to him. “Fancy seeing you here. I didn’t think you’d really show up. And in pajamas, no less,” you said, flashing him a wide grin.
Wonwoo glanced at his clothes briefly. “Hoshi insisted,” he said flatly.
“Well, I’m glad you came,” you said, batting your eyelashes in what you hoped was a cute way. “It’s not every day I get to sit next to my favorite person.”
Wonwoo raised an eyebrow, unamused. “I thought Hoshi was your favorite.”
You pouted. “You’re no fun, you know that?”
“Wasn’t trying to be,” he replied, unbothered.
Determined to get some sort of reaction, you leaned closer, pretending to examine his face. “Do you always wear glasses?” you asked, feigning curiosity. “They make you look extra smart.”
He pushed his glasses up his nose, side-eyeing you. “I am extra smart.”
You giggled, undeterred. “I bet you’re super smart, Mr. IT Genius. You could probably hack into all our phones right now.”
Wonwoo didn’t seem fazed. “I’m not that smart. And hacking is illegal.”
“Well, that’s good. Otherwise, you’d see all the photos I took of you before,” you teased, leaning even closer so your shoulder brushed his. “For research purposes, of course.”
This time, Wonwoo did look at you, but only briefly. “Research for what?”
“Oh, just, you know,” you waved a hand vaguely, “studying the behavior of elusive, handsome introverts.”
“Sounds like a waste of time,” he replied dryly, though his lips twitched into a faint smile. You’d almost missed it if you weren’t staring right at him.
You grinned, feeling triumphant at his tiny show of amusement. “Did I just make you smile? Am I your source of happiness and joy now?”
“Just what is up with you?” he questioned, genuinely bewildered.
“I’m persistent. Haven’t you noticed?”
“I have.”
Before you could respond, Hoshi’s voice boomed across the room. “Movie’s starting, everyone! Grab your snacks, get cozy!”
The lights dimmed further, and the opening credits began to roll. You wiggled in your seat, purposely leaning just a little closer to Wonwoo, your head brushing against his arm. Wonwoo glanced at you but didn’t say anything, so you tilted your head playfully and whispered, “You’re not gonna move away, are you?”
He looked away, clearly unimpressed. “Why would I?”
“I don’t know… because I’m annoying?”
“You are,” he said, eyes fixed on the screen.
“Hey!” You nudged him with your shoulder, a mock pout on your lips. “I’m charmingly annoying.”
“If you say so,” he replied.
Every now and then, you’d make little comments, trying to catch his attention. Wonwoo remained mostly unresponsive, only glancing at you occasionally, but he didn’t seem bothered either. In fact, the more you nudged him or commented, the more relaxed he seemed.
Finally, you ‘accidentally’ let your head rest on his shoulder. “Oops,” you whispered, eyes still fixed on the screen. “My bad.”
Wonwoo sighed, but to your surprise, he didn’t push you off. “You’re really pushing your luck tonight.”
You grinned up at him, batting your lashes. “What can I say? I like taking my chances.”
“Just watch the movie,” he muttered, but you could tell—he didn’t actually mind.
With a satisfied smile, you snuggled a little closer, content with your minor victory.
After the movie, everyone stretched and yawned. Hoshi and Seokmin were already debating what to watch next, while Jill and Lea were dramatically complaining about the lackluster conclusion to the movie. You continued the night with laughter and conversations over light drinks. It was a school day, so no one was entertaining the idea of getting wasted.
You glanced at Wonwoo, who had stayed quiet throughout the night, except for a few quips here and there. You often flirted with him in between conversations, but as usual, he couldn’t even be bothered.
When the group started to pack up, you took a deep breath and turned to him. “Hey, do you wanna walk back to the dorms together?” you asked, keeping your tone light and hopeful.
You were the only ones going back to the dorms, since the rest of your friends lived off-campus, and Hoshi was obviously staying over at Mina’s.
Wonwoo stood up, gathering his things without making eye contact. “No, thanks,” he said simply, pulling his jacket over his shoulder. “I’ll head back on my own.”
Your heart sank a little, but you didn’t want to let it show. “Okay, sure,” you said quickly, trying to brush it off with a casual laugh. “Didn’t think you’d say yes anyway.”
He paused for a moment, adjusting his jacket before looking at you with a slight frown. “I just don’t think it’s a good idea,” he said, his voice firm but not unkind. “You don’t need to follow me around.”
The words stung more than you expected, even though you’d been joking about it all night. You opened your mouth to reply, but nothing came out. Instead, you just nodded, forcing a small smile. “Got it.”
Wonwoo gave a short nod, then turned and headed for the door without a second glance. As you watched him leave, the lightheartedness you’d felt earlier fizzled out. You knew he wasn’t trying to be cruel, but his rejection still hurt. You’d pushed and pushed all night, and for a moment, it felt like maybe he was warming up to you. But now, it seemed like you had been wrong all along.
Mina noticed your shift in mood and walked over. “Hey, you okay?”
You plastered on a smile, shrugging nonchalantly. “Yeah, I’m fine. I’ll head back now. See you guys tomorrow, okay?”
Your farewell was noisy, with your girls dramatically begging you to stay. There was a big smile on your lips when you exited the door, but as you headed back to your dorm, thoughts of Wonwoo’s words stayed with you.
Maybe this little game of flirting wasn’t as fun for him as it was for you. Maybe you were pushing too hard. Maybe this was more one-sided than you wanted to admit. It had been fun for the most part, a lighthearted chase that kept your heart racing, but now it was starting to feel tiring—draining, even.
Your brows furrowed in frustration. “I should stop…” you muttered under your breath, kicking at a stray pebble in your path. Then, with a small pout, you crossed your arms tightly over your chest. “Men ain’t shit,” you grumbled, though the bitterness in your voice didn’t quite match the half-hearted way you said it.
“Now, now, sweetheart,” said a greasy, slurred voice from behind you, giving you goosebumps all over. “You don’t really mean that, do you?”
How deeply distracted were you that you didn’t notice the dragged-out footsteps behind you?
You tried to brush it off, but when the pace quickened and the slurred voice called out again, you got ready to run. Before you could, however, he grabbed your arm.
“Not so fast, sweetheart,” the man drawled, his breath reeking of alcohol as he eyed you. “What’s a pretty girl like you doin’ out here all alone?”
You shot him a sharp glance, trying to ignore the knot tightening in your stomach. “I’m not interested. Leave me alone,” you said, trying to swat his hand away but his grip tightened.
“I’m not so bad, am I? C’mon—just a little company,” he slurred.
You yanked your hand back, eyes narrowing as you tried to fight him off. “Let go!” you snapped, your voice rising in panic.
The man chuckled, tugging you toward him. “What’s the rush?”
With a rush of adrenaline, you elbowed him in the ribs and stomped on his foot with all the force you could muster. But despite your efforts, he was stronger, and your heart pounded as he forced you back against a wall, your breath catching in your throat.
Just as you started to fear you couldn’t fight him off, a sharp voice cut through the air. “Hey!”
Before you could process what was happening, Wonwoo appeared, eyes blazing with fury. He swung a solid punch, landing it squarely on the guy’s jaw. The man stumbled, dazed, before collapsing to the ground with a heavy thud.
You stared in shock, chest heaving, barely registering the fact that Wonwoo had just knocked the guy out. He reached for your hand, his grip firm but reassuring. “Let’s go,” he said, his voice calmer now, though still laced with urgency. “Before he gets back up. Come on.”
Grabbing his hand, you ran with him, your pajamas flapping awkwardly as the two of you bolted down the street. Imagine getting harassed in oversized Pucca pajamas? The ridiculousness of the situation would’ve made you laugh if you weren’t so shaken.
Your heart was still pounding, and you could feel Wonwoo’s hand tightening around yours as you rounded the corner, not stopping until you were safely back inside the campus walls.
When you finally slowed down, panting, you glanced at him. “You just—” you started, still breathless, “You punched him!”
Wonwoo looked at you, still catching his breath. “Yeah.”
The simple acknowledgment sent a strange warmth through you. You both stood there for a moment, the adrenaline fading. You were still catching your breath, trying to process everything that had just happened.
“Thank you,” you breathed out. “You really saved me back there.”
“I think you would’ve done well by yourself even if I wasn’t there. You probably broke a rib or two with that elbow,” he quipped, a small smile tugging at his lips.
“Is that a joke?” you questioned, pointing at his lips. “Are laughing at your own joke?”
He looked at you, his expression shifting back to his usual. “I didn’t laugh. Next time, be more careful. Don’t walk by yourself at night.” His voice was steady, almost scolding, but there was an unmistakable note of concern in it.
You blinked up at him, feeling your heart flutter in a way that had nothing to do with the scare you just had. He had just knocked out a guy without breaking a sweat, and now he was here, telling you to be careful. You couldn’t help it—the admiration in your eyes must’ve been painfully obvious because you were falling even harder for him.
Wonwoo noticed your dazed expression, the way your eyes lingered on him a little too long. His brow furrowed slightly before he sighed, clearly not amused by whatever was going through your head. Without saying a word, he took off his jacket and threw it over your face.
“Go back to your room,” he muttered, his voice carrying a hint of exasperation. “And stop being weird.”
You pulled his jacket off your face, blinking up at him with a grin, but he was already turning away, clearly done with the situation.
“Hey! Wait for me! What if he comes back?” you called out, running to catch up to him.
This wasn’t part of the plan. You were doing just fine on the sidelines of college life, navigating the highs and lows of being a student. You were content not drawing attention to yourself in places that didn’t need your presence, happily enjoying the fun college functions from a distance.
Why did you have to join the student council on a whim?
“I’m so sick of this,” you muttered, hauling a large box of banners back into the storage room. Someone else could do it if only there were other hands available to help. Frustrated, you kicked the box, only to recoil in pain when it slammed against your foot. “Ouch!”
“Move,” came a familiar voice from behind you. You glanced back just as Wonwoo pushed you aside, his movements smooth and efficient. With ease, he picked up the box and carried it to the storage room. You followed him, a wide smile creeping onto your lips.
“Thanks a lot,” you said, genuine gratitude lighting up your tone.
Wonwoo gave you a side-eye. “Next time, ask other people for help if you can’t do it by yourself.”
“There was no one to ask! Everyone’s busy with other stuff,” you defended, pouting at being scolded.
“You didn’t ask me.”
“You were busy too!”
“Then you should’ve waited until I was done.”
“What are you so mad about? I didn’t ask because you were busy, and you’re not even in the council to begin with. This isn’t your job.”
Wonwoo sighed, turning away. You followed him out, trying to keep up with his long strides. When he stopped, you halted too, glancing up at him. He stared at you for a moment, inspecting your appearance with an intensity that made your heart flutter.
“Are you checking me out?” you quipped, knowing how he’d react.
Wonwoo scoffed. “Are you heading back to the dorm now?” he asked, and you nodded. “Wait here,” he said before climbing up the sound box to fetch his backpack. When he came back down, he pulled out a jacket and handed it to you.
“Oh, I’m good. I have a jacket in my bag,” you chimed, dismissing it.
“Forget it, then,” he said, putting it away, but you stopped him.
“No! I’ll take it! Mine’s not warm enough,” you grinned. “Thank you!”
Wonwoo’s deadpan expression remained as he rolled his eyes. “Go get your things. We’re leaving.”
You blinked, confusion washing over you. “Huh? Are we leaving together?”
“We’re going the same way anyway. Might as well just go together,” he said, glancing away with a slight furrow in his brows. “You might get yourself in trouble again.”
“We’re on the campus, I don’t think anyone would try something like that here,” you stated, but you couldn’t help smiling.
After what happened the other day, Wonwoo seemed to be warming up to you now. It felt good to know that he cared enough to walk home with you and ensure nothing happened again.
“If you don’t want to, suit yourself,” he said, turning his back.
“No, wait! Let’s go!”
You rushed back to where you’d left your things, bidding hurried goodbyes to your student council friends. When you returned, Wonwoo was still waiting for you. He sighed at the sight of your massive grin and started walking first, so you ran to catch up with him.
“Wait for me,” you called, giggling as you intertwined your fingers with his. He didn’t shake you off.
“Put the jacket on. It’s cold.”
“Oooh, Jeon Wonwoo,” you teased, peeking at his face. “Are you trying to get promoted to green flag?”
“I’m not a red flag,” he said monotonously.
“When did I say you were?”
“You kept implying it.”
You chuckled lightly. “You know, I heard that people who claim that they’re not a red flag tend to be… well, a red flag.”
“Just wear the jacket. I don’t want to be responsible for you if you get hypothermia.”
You pouted, backing away to put on the jacket. As you did, you unlinked your fingers with his but Wonwoo chased after it, tightening his hold. “Let go. I need to put this on.”
“Huh?” he blurted, retracting his hand like he’d been electrified. His fingers slipped away too quickly, but the warmth lingered on your skin.
“Do you hate it that much?” you scoffed as you wore his jacket. It was warm and smelled like him. “And no one’s getting hypothermia in this weather. It’s not that cold.”
“Can’t we just walk quietly and pretend we don’t know each other?”
“No, we can’t,” you chimed, linking your arms with his. “It’s impossible because we look like a couple right now.”
“No, we don’t.”
“Yes, we do,” you sang, leaning your head on his shoulder as the two of you strolled down the dimly lit pathway. You allowed yourself to savor the moment, your steps perfectly in sync with his, a warmth spreading in your chest as you walked together under the soft glow of the pathway lights.
The school festival was coming up, and you got to work with Wonwoo on the preparations—you as a student council member, and him with the IT Club. Your tasks were different, not overlapping at all but you were content just being in the same space with him.
While Wonwoo worked with a clubmate on the sound systems, you were assigned to help with decorations and logistics. Despite your tasks not overlapping, you made a point to stroll by his area often, a smile lighting up your face whenever your eyes met. Wonwoo would only nod to acknowledge you, but each exchange was a little jolt of happiness for you.
The hours passed in a blur of laughter and hard work. You organized tables, hung streamers, and made sure everything was in its right place, all while stealing glances at Wonwoo and his team.
During a break, you found yourself near the sound booth, leaning against the wall to catch your breath. Wonwoo was adjusting a microphone, and you couldn’t help but watch. He looked effortlessly cool, his concentration making him even more attractive.
“Don’t just stand there, you’re making me nervous,” he teased when he noticed you staring.
You flushed, momentarily caught off guard. “Just appreciating the view!” you shot back with a grin.
“Right,” he deadpanned, shaking his head. “Just don’t break anything.”
“Oh please, I’m the master of decorations! No broken things here!” you replied with mock seriousness.
As the day wore on, the festival started to take shape, and your excitement grew. You loved this sense of unity, the way everyone worked together to bring a festival to remember. It was very tiring, wearing out your bodies with work and your minds with how much you kept brainstorming for the best ideas. But as the sun began to set, and the field was transformed into a magical scene with the glow of fairy lights, all your labor had been worth it.
“Looks great,” Wonwoo said, suddenly at your side.
You nodded, unable to suppress your grin. “It does, doesn’t it? You guys did a great job too. The LED displays are cool.”
“We did what we do best. You guys at the student council worked harder, coming up with cool ideas and stuff,” he replied, giving you an appreciative nod.
Feeling a rush of warmth at his compliment, you could only smile. “Let’s just say we make a great team—each in our own way.”
Wonwoo shrugged. “Some of the council guys were a bit pompous and bossy but, yeah, you’re right.”
You laughed at that, hitting his arm and letting your hand stay there. Wonwoo didn’t flinch, even flashing a small smile as you both stared at the fruit of your labor.
The school festival was finally here, and the campus was alive with excitement. You could feel the energy in the air, the smell of food wafting from the stalls, and the cheerful sound of laughter and chatter.
The day kicked off with a formal ceremony in the main courtyard—with the school band playing a march. Students and faculty gathered under a large banner that read Welcome to the 00 University Festival! You stood with your friends, cheering as the college president gave a short speech about the importance of community and collaboration.
“Let the festivities begin!” he concluded, and the crowd erupted into applause.
As the ceremony ended, you raced to the game booths that had been set up around the campus. Your friends challenged each other to various games—ring toss, balloon darts, and a giant inflatable obstacle course. The laughter was infectious, and you lost track of time as you tried your hand at each game, reveling in the thrill of friendly competition.
In between the fun, you made your way to the sound booth, where Wonwoo and Jihoon were busy setting up for the afternoon performances.
“Snacks for the most hardworking people on the whole campus,” you called out, showing them the containers of food and drinks.
“Thanks a lot!” Jihoon said with a bright smile, taking a snack before returning to his controls. “You’re so thoughtful.”
Wonwoo, on the other hand, merely nodded, a small smile breaking through his serious demeanor. “Thanks,” he said, taking a sip from the drink you brought him.
“You guys are doing an amazing job! Can’t wait for the party tonight!” you exclaimed, your excitement bubbling over.
“We’ll make sure it’s a good one,” Jihoon replied, his enthusiasm infectious.
“Are you kidding me? DJ Woozi is here. I know it’s gonna be a good one,” you chimed, pointing finger guns at Jihoon.
The latter couldn’t help grinning at your compliment. “You should come over more often! It’s not all boring work here.”
“Oh, of course. I’ll be here often. Gotta make sure you stay hydrated. You’ll need the energy to keep up with the crowd.”
Jihoon tilted his head slightly, unconvinced. “Pretty sure Wonwoo will appreciate it,” he chuckled, nudging Wonwoo’s arm.
You just smiled, winking at Wonwoo before you bid your goodbyes and promised them you’d be back.
As the afternoon rolled in, the booths and games continued. You lost yourself in the fun, but each time you never forgot to stop by the sound booth, checking in on Wonwoo—and Jihoon because he happened to be there too.
“Want a break?” you asked during one of your visits. “You’ve been at it for hours!”
Wonwoo looked at you, the serious expression on his face softening slightly. “I’m good. Just need to make sure everything is perfect for tonight.”
You nodded, admiring his dedication. “Well, I brought more snacks,” you said, pulling out the waffles you got from one of the booths.
“Thanks,” Jihoon said, taking the bag with a grateful smile.
Soon, the day transitioned into the evening. Students gathered around the stage, and the sounds of music filled the campus. You joined your friends, dancing and enjoying the beats as Jihoon—moniker, Woozi got the crowd hyped.
You could see Wonwoo in the sound booth, focused on the music, and your heart swelled with admiration. Every now and then, you made your way back to him, offering him drinks or just sharing a quick laugh about something funny happening in the crowd.
“Having fun?” he asked during one of your visits, his gaze momentarily leaving the controls.
“Definitely! This is amazing!” you replied, breathless from dancing.
“Good. Just keep your distance from the speakers,” he said and you could see a playful glint in his eyes despite his deadpan expression.
“Don’t worry, I’m not here to break anything,” you shot back, grinning.
The night continued to unfold, filled with dancing, laughter, and an electric atmosphere. Later, when the party wound down and the crowd began to disperse, the working group gathered again for a final clean-up.
“I can’t believe how well everything turned out,” you said, looking around at the remnants of the festival.
“Yeah, it was a success,” Jihoon replied, glancing at you. “Thanks for all your help today.”
“Of course! It was so much fun being part of it,” you said, feeling a warmth spread through you.
The student council president clapped his hands together to grab everyone’s attention. “Before we call it a night, how about we plan a weekend escapade to celebrate our hard work? A little break after all this?”
Cheers erupted from the group, and you felt your heart race at the thought of spending more time with everyone, especially with Wonwoo.
“Good to know everyone’s up for it!” the president said, smiling. “For now, let us pack up what needs to be packed up, make sure not to miss anything, and then we can head to the after-party.”
You helped pack up the necessary stuff that could not wait until tomorrow. Luckily, the university had a cleaning personnel who would handle the rest, so your work was lighter. Afterward, the group dispersed, some resigning to their dorms to rest, and the others heading to the after-party at an off-campus frat house.
Your friends were waiting for you outside the dorm, and you all hurried off to the party. It was a big shift from the organized chaos of the festival to a more liberated vibe. The living room was packed with students, and the atmosphere was thick with the smell of alcohol, vape, and perfumes mixed with the faintest hint of sweat. Colorful lights dance across the walls, along with the bodies of partygoers moving along to the catchy music.
“Let’s grab some drinks!” Mina shouted over the music, and the group surged toward the makeshift bar set up in the corner. You followed, adrenaline coursing through you as you filled a cup with whatever was on offer.
With drinks in hand, you scanned the room, your eyes searching for a familiar face. And there he was—Wonwoo, standing in a corner, a drink in hand, watching the chaos unfold with an amused expression. His dark hair glimmered under the strobe lights, and he stood out in his plain white t-shirt.
Without hesitation, you weaved through the crowd, clutching your drink tightly. “Hey, you made it!” you said, trying to sound casual despite the excitement bubbling inside you.
“Not willingly,” he replied, taking a sip from his cup.
“Want to join the madness?” you asked, gesturing toward the dance floor, where a group of students swayed and grinded, lost in the music and alcohol.
“Pass,” he said, not even giving it a thought.
“I knew it, but why did I still ask?” you mumbled, chuckling over your cup.
Across the hall, you spotted Mina and Hoshi, getting touchy as they danced to the rhythm. You smiled at the sight of them, lifting your cup in greeting when Hoshi waved at you.
“They look so in love, it’s annoying,” you snorted, but your fond smile was anything but snarky.
“Doesn’t look like it to me,” Wonwoo commented, making you glance at him.
“You don’t see it?” you questioned, genuinely perplexed. “It’s so obvious. They can’t even get their hands off of each other.”
Wonwoo hummed, but he looked unconvinced. “It could be the alcohol, you know, making them hot and touchy… and horny. You don’t need love to feel that way.”
You observed him for a while, trying to gouge what was in his mind but to no avail. You could tell though that he was a cynic. “You don’t believe in love, do you?”
“Love is overrated,” he said, sipping from his cup.
You just nodded, acknowledging his admittance and respecting his opinions. “Are you sure you should be drinking? You can’t handle your liquor.”
“Oh, this is plain soda,” he replied, showing you the contents of his red cup. “I’m not drinking. Can’t afford to make stupid mistakes.”
“Mistakes? Like calling some stranger gorgeous and confessing your love for them?” you quipped but there was a bit of snark in your tone.
“Yeah, pretty much.”
That dampened your mood. “Well, good luck then,” you said, bumping your cup gently against his. “Enjoy the party.”
As you turned to walk away, Wonwoo grabbed your hand, stopping you in your tracks. “Where are you going?”
“I’m gonna go have some real fun. Dancing, drinking, maybe some games because I’m quite good at them,” you smiled, motioning to the chaos around you. “It’s a party after all.”
He released your arm and you couldn’t quite tell what expression he was wearing. “Have fun then.”
“Thanks. I will,” you said with a salute before disappearing into the crowd.
You didn’t see him around the house after that, neither did you try looking for him. You just enjoyed the night, trying to take him off of your mind and the nagging thought at the back of your mind that going after him would not result in anything but disappointment.
Early Saturday morning, you gathered at the school plaza with other members of the festival working group. You were set to leave at 9 am, and despite the hangover from last night, you managed to make it there on time—not without a splitting headache that a handful of other members seemed to share.
“Alright?” asked Wonwoo, appearing beside you with a slight scowl as you pressed your fingers to your forehead, trying to ease the pounding pain.
“Hi!” you greeted him, smiling from ear to ear only to wince again. “Ouch. My head is killing me.”
“And whose fault is that?” Wonwoo smirked.
Before you could retort, Jihoon hopped over, a small plastic bag in hand filled with water and medicine. “Here. It’ll help with the hangover,” he offered, his expression earnest.
You groaned dramatically, pouting at him. “Thanks a lot, Jihoon. You’re a literal angel.”
Jihoon’s cheeks flushed at the compliment, the corners of his mouth twitching into a bashful smile. “That’s… Well, it’s not much.”
“No, I mean it. You really are an angel. Your skin is so fair, it’s blinding,” you said, squinting playfully as if his glow was too bright to bear.
“Take the medicine if your head is hurting that much,” Wonwoo chided sternly on your other side, making you turn back to him.
“Oh, right,” you mumbled, opening the bag. You popped a pill in your mouth and fumbled with the bottle of water, struggling to twist the cap off. Just as Jihoon was about to help, Wonwoo snatched the bottle from your hand, effortlessly twisting it open.
“Thanks,” you said, raising the bottle in appreciation. You mirrored the gesture to Jihoon, grinning widely. “Thanks, my angel.”
Soon, the rest of the group arrived, ready for the trip. Since the university didn’t sponsor this outing, you all had to pay for expenses and transportation. Some students had cars and agreed to carpool with those who didn’t.
Without giving it much thought, you headed straight to Wonwoo’s car, making yourself comfortable in the front seat like you belonged there.
He didn’t seem to mind, though he did ask, “Are you carpooling with me? I thought you were going in Jihoon’s car.”
“Oh, he didn’t invite me. We’re not that close,” you replied, buckling your seatbelt. “Besides, I’d rather ride you.”
You noticed his hand freeze mid-air, the awkward silence that followed stretching between you like a taut string.
“With you!” you said in a panic. “I meant to say, I’d rather ride with you.”
Wonwoo nodded with a blank expression. “Yeah. I know,” he said coolly.
You chuckled awkwardly, looking outside his window and mentally cursing yourself. When the other cars started driving away, you realized that Wonwoo still hadn’t turned on his engine.
“Are we waiting for someone?” you asked and he nodded.
“There he is,” he said, gesturing at Seokmin, who was rushing toward you with a backpack slung over one shoulder.
He yanked the backseat door open and hopped in immediately. “Wow. Thanks for not leaving me behind.”
“You had three minutes left,” Wonwoo replied, a hint of exasperation in his tone as he finally fired up the engine and drove out of the campus.
The car ride was filled with laughter as Seokmin took charge of the music, blasting upbeat tracks that made it impossible not to move. He sang along, his voice rising above the catchy beats, and every now and then, he added exaggerated dance moves from the passenger seat, making you and Wonwoo laugh.
“Can you believe we actually survived the festival?” Seokmin exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air. “I thought we’d end up in a full-on food fight or something! Just imagine it—streamers flying, popcorn everywhere, total chaos!”
You chuckled, picturing the scene, however impossible it was. “Yeah, and we’d be the ones cleaning it up afterward.”
“Exactly! But it would’ve been legendary!” Seokmin insisted, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Next time, I’m bringing a water balloon launcher. Who’s in?”
Wonwoo rolled his eyes but couldn’t hide his amusement. “You’d just end up hitting someone with that.”
“Details, details!” Seokmin waved off the concern. “It doesn’t matter as long as you had fun and made lots of memories.”
He stopped and gasped quietly as he watched you extend the iced coffee toward Wonwoo so he could take a sip. You noticed him only when Wonwoo had taken a sip and you’d placed the coffee back in the cup holder.
“What?” you asked.
“Why don’t you guys just kiss in front of me?”
Wonwoo scowled, glancing briefly at his friend. “Why would we do that?”
“Right?” you blurted, snorting. “Didn’t know you were kinky like that, Seokmin.”
Seokmin leaned back in his seat. “You guys. You know that’s not what I mean.”
You felt your cheeks heat up. “I was just being nice, okay?”
“Right, just being nice,” Seokmin teased, wiggling his eyebrows. “But I mean, he didn’t look like he was complaining. When did he stop complaining about you invading his space?”
“Oh, he’s never complained to me before,” you replied, you didn’t even need to think about it.
Seokmin gasped dramatically. “He did not?”
“Not that I remember,” you said, peering at him in the backseat. “And I remember every single interaction we had,” you added with a proud smile.
“But he doesn’t like it when people are in his space,” said Seokmin, pointing at Wonwoo with a surprised expression. “He hates it.”
You shot a glance at Wonwoo, who kept his eyes on the road, his expression unreadable. “Enough, Seokmin. You’re gonna make her think I’m enjoying this.”
“Aren’t you?” he shot back with a grin. “I mean, who wouldn’t want a cute girl following him around, giving him drinks and all that?”
“Exactly!” you exclaimed. “Look at me! 1-800-hot-n-fun.”
Seokmin leaned between your seats, pointing a finger gun at your temple. “Excuse me, ma’am. You’re under arrest for being 10 out of 10 and 2 hot 2 handle.”
You and Seokmin burst out laughing, and even Wonwoo couldn’t hide his grin.
“Settle down, or I'll kick you two out of the car,” Wonwoo chided.
“Is it strange that I’m more invested in your relationship than you are?” Seokmin asked after a moment’s pause.
You shushed him. “Shut up. No one is more invested in our relationship than I am!”
As the miles rolled by, the countryside unfolded around you, with fields of wildflowers swaying in the breeze. Just as you were nearing the location, you had to stop at a gasoline station because Seokmin needed to use the restroom.
“How about you?” he asked, just as Seokmin had left the car.
“No, I’m good,” you replied, glancing at him and found him scrolling through his phone. He just hummed, eyes fixed on his screen.
You took in his features—handsome, of course, with that natural air of confidence he always seemed to carry. His jawline gave him an angular, sharp look, yet there was something almost delicate in the way his eyes softened when he looked at you, or the way his lashes fell gently against his skin when he blinked.
Your gaze fell to his lips—symmetrical with a defined cupid’s bow and subtle but natural fullness. There was that ever-present slight curve. It wasn’t quite a smile, but it always seemed like it was on the verge of one, and it made you wonder what it’d take to coax a real one out of him.
“You know,” you said, voice dripping with playful mischief, “you have really pretty lips.”
Wonwoo paused, blinking as if processing your comment. His eyes flicked to your mouth, and for a second, the silence between you seemed to thicken. But then he shifted his gaze back to the road, brushing off your words like it was nothing. “Thanks,” he replied, as nonchalant as ever.
At the back of your mind, you wonder if it was as soft as it appeared to be.
“Can you tie a cherry stem into a knot with your tongue?” you asked again, leaning a little closer with an innocent smile on your lips.
You knew exactly what you were doing—the teasing tone, the loaded question. It was playful, sultry, but in a way that you could brush off if he didn’t bite. You fully expected his usual indifferent response.
Then again, there was the possibility that maybe he’d pick up your hints this time, and maybe he’d do something about the tension that was building up between you right at this moment. Maybe—
“I don’t think anyone can,” he answered flatly, the corner of his mouth barely twitching.
You threw your hands up dramatically. “Oh my god. What was I expecting?” you groaned, looking away.
Wonwoo remained quiet, so you glanced back at him. You met his eyes, dark with an intensity that you hadn’t seen before. His jaw was clenched tightly, and somehow it felt as though you had done something wrong.
“What?” you asked, cocking an eyebrow at him.
He didn’t say anything. He just unbuckled his seatbelt and leaned towards you. Before you could react, he was already cupping the back of your head and crashing his lips into yours.
You were momentarily stunned, grappling with the sensation of his lips pressing against yours. He tightened his grip on your head, tilting it just right, allowing him to kiss you more deeply. It was firm, yet slow, like he’d been thinking about it for much longer than you’d realized. You closed your eyes as you melted into him, kissing him back with a rhythm that made your skin prickle with the warmth that was slowly creeping into your chest. Your heart raced in its cage—so wildly that you swore Wonwoo could feel it echoing in his own.
When he finally pulled back, his expression was unreadable, but there was a flicker of triumph in his eyes.
“So?” His voice was low, teasing. “Can I?”
You blinked, still a little dazed. “Huh?”
He smirked, the smug confidence catching you off guard. “Can I tie a cherry stem into a knot with my tongue?”
Your mouth fell open in disbelief before you burst out laughing, the tension between you now crackling in the air. “Y-yeah,” you stammered, the flustered grin spreading across your face. “Absolutely. You’re amazing. Basically a pro. Heh.”
Luckily, Seokmin arrived before the mood could get any more awkward. He did notice the shift between you, but when he asked about it, you just brushed it off. Deep inside, you were reeling in the bliss of kissing Wonwoo—wait, no—of being kissed by Wonwoo.
You soon arrived at the villa, its warm stone exterior blending beautifully with the surrounding trees. There was a welcoming warmth to it, and you hoped it was as comfortable as it looked.
“Wow, this place is massive,” Seokmin commented dramatically as he stepped out of the car, looking up at the villa as if it were a five-star resort.
Just then, a girl with beautiful long hair and a bright smile appeared on the porch. “Hey, guys! You made it!” she called out, waving enthusiastically.
“Claire?” Seokmin blurted, evidently surprised.
“Seokmin!” she squealed, running to him for a quick hug.
You noticed Wonwoo stiffen slightly at the sight of her, his expression shifting as he watched the reunion. It didn’t go unnoticed by you, but Claire seemed blissfully unaware.
“What are you doing here?” Seokmin asked, backing away with a neutral expression.
The student council president came out before Claire could respond. “You’ve arrived! Good. Good. Have you met Claire?” he said, smiling at Claire. “Claire here was kind enough to offer their family villa, so this is going to be our home for the weekend.”
“Oh, I know these guys. We go way back,” said Claire, referring to Seokmin and Wonwoo.
Prez introduced you to her and Claire’s smile widened as she extended her hand to you. “Nice to meet you!”
“Nice to meet you too!” you replied, trying to match her enthusiasm. You were still processing the sudden tension in the air, especially from Wonwoo.
“Come on in! The others are waiting.”
As the president guided you inside, you watched as Claire held Wonwoo by the arm and walked ahead of you. You felt a sudden surge of annoyance at her, clearly out of jealousy.
Seokmin leaned in to whisper in your ear. “That’s Wonwoo’s ex.”
The revelation hung in the air as you watched them. Wonwoo’s expression was blank, while Claire remained upbeat.
As you stepped further inside the villa, you couldn’t shake the feeling that this weekend was going to be more complicated than you had anticipated.
The first order of business in the villa was dinner. After arriving early, everyone gathered around for snacks and chatted, but by dinner time, the group split into two—those helping in the kitchen and those exploring the villa.
You hadn’t planned on helping out in the kitchen, but when you noticed only a few had volunteered, you reluctantly joined in. A mistake, you realized, as your eyes drifted to the living room where Wonwoo sat with Claire beside him. She looked far too comfortable, leaning in close as they talked, her laughter ringing out over the murmur of conversations. Your chest tightened at the sight, the feeling of irritation and insecurity creeping up on you.
It’s fine. He’s allowed to have a past, you told yourself, gripping the knife a little tighter as you sliced through a watermelon. But does she have to sit so close? Exes shouldn’t be too nice to each other. And does she have to appear now?
“Hey, focus!” Jihoon’s voice cut through your thoughts as he nudged your shoulder. “You’re going to cut yourself if you’re not careful.”
“Oh, shit,” you muttered, blinking down at the cutting board. You had nearly reached the end of the watermelon and were dangerously close to nicking your finger
“Why are you so distracted?” Jihoon teased, glancing briefly at Wonwoo and Claire before turning back to the stove. “Relax. He’s yours. I’m sure of it.”
You let out a dry laugh, though your stomach twisted. “You can’t be so sure. Not with his ex clinging to him like that.”
“I don’t know... He’s heading this way now, so I think I’m right,” Woozi replied, stirring the contents of the pan with a knowing smile.
Before you could process Jihoon’s words, Wonwoo appeared beside you. His presence made the kitchen feel smaller.
“What are you doing?” he asked, his gaze fixed on the watermelon as he gently nudged you aside. His body brushed against yours as he took the knife from your hand, his touch lingering a little longer than necessary. He began slicing the fruit with ease.
Your pulse quickened. “What do you think?” you pouted, stepping aside but staying close enough for your elbows to brush every now and then.
“I think you’re trying to get my attention. Getting hurt and all,” he replied, making your jaw drop. He laughed at your expression. “Aren’t you?”
“I wasn’t hurt,” you told him, rolling your eyes although your heart was fluttering at the sight of his smile. “And even if I did want your attention, I don’t need to hurt myself to get it.”
Wonwoo nodded, agreeing. “You’re right. You don’t need to. It’s one of your many talents.”
You took a paring knife and started slicing the pears, scooting closer to Wonwoo so your elbows touched slightly. “Seokmin told me Claire was your ex.”
Wonwoo hummed in response, not looking up from the watermelon he was slicing. “She is. Freshman year.”
You stopped the urge to roll your eyes. “So you did believe in love.”
“Just because I had girlfriends before doesn’t mean I believe in love.”
“You know, I heard somewhere that people who claim not to believe in love tend to be the most hopeless romantic individuals to ever walk the Earth.”
“Whoever said that was lying,” he replied, shoving a small piece of watermelon in your mouth, his fingers lightly brushing your lips.
You chewed slowly, feeling a blush creep up your neck. The way Wonwoo’s eyes lingered on your lips didn’t go unnoticed by you. On an ordinary day, that would be a good opportunity to make fun of him, but after what happened in the car earlier, you could not bring yourself to tease him.
He cleared his throat, looking away and resuming his task. You glanced around, suddenly feeling self-conscious and didn’t know where to put your hand, so you grabbed a slice of watermelon.
“It’s very sweet. Try it,” you said, offering the slice to him.
Without looking, Wonwoo leaned sideways to you and took a bite of the fruit. You instantly regretted that because now you were the one staring at his lips, recalling the vivid imagery of earlier’s kiss.
“Wonwoo!” a voice called out from the living room, snapping you out of your imaginations. It was Claire and she didn’t have anything to say, just waving at Wonwoo with a smile.
You glanced at Wonwoo who didn’t even bother to show a reaction, let alone respond.
“Does it bother you that she’s here?” you asked, your voice softer now, more curious than playful.
He paused, his gaze finally meeting yours. “No, it doesn’t bother me.”
“So you’re unbothered?”
“I’m unbothered.”
You tilted your head, eyes narrowing in playful suspicion. “You know, I heard that people who say they’re unbothered tend to be... well, very bothered.”
Wonwoo let out a small, resigned laugh, finally setting the knife down. His gaze softened as he turned to face you fully. “Again with your odd wisdom.” He raised an eyebrow, his tone teasing but warm. “What’s next? People who claim to have allergies aren’t actually allergic?”
“Oh, I wouldn’t go that far,” you shot back, laughing. “Allergies are backed by science. But being bothered when you’re in the same room as your ex? That’s a little harder to prove. Just like not believing in love.”
“You’re too smart for your own good,” he said sarcastically. “I might need to practice my patience so I can keep up with your antics.”
“Oh? You’ll do that instead of telling me to leave you alone?”
Wonwoo scowled lightly. “Did you forget what Seokmin said? That I hate it when people bother me?” he asked, reaching to tuck a few stray hairs behind your ear. “I don’t hate you, so I won’t tell you to leave me alone.”
Your heart skipped a beat, but before you could reply, Claire’s voice carried over from the living room, breaking the moment. You glanced over, watching as she stood up, her eyes briefly meeting Wonwoo’s before she looked away.
I have a feeling in my gut that she’s doing this on purpose, you thought to yourself, narrowing your eyes slightly at the other girl.
“Dinner’s almost ready!” someone called from the kitchen, pulling your attention back.
Wonwoo didn’t seem to notice Claire at all as he turned to the stove to help Jihoon with the final touches. After that, you moved to the backyard just as the evening settled into a cool, dusky warmth.
The smell of barbecue filled the air, rich and smoky. The large grill crackled and popped as steaks, skewers, and vegetables sizzled under Seokmin’s watchful—albeit playful—eye. You could hear him narrating the process dramatically to anyone who would listen, complete with sound effects.
“And now, behold! The perfectly grilled steak, sizzling under my masterful technique,” Seokmin proclaimed, waving his spatula like a wand.
You sat at one of the long picnic tables on the patio, nursing a cold drink and watching the light from the grill flicker across the faces of your friends. Wonwoo sat beside you, quietly observing the scene while Claire—who had rejoined the group—chatted animatedly with some others across the table. You were trying not to feel too aware of her presence, but it was impossible not to glance her way now and then.
“Hey, are you going to give me a hand, or are you just going to sit there looking cute?” Seokmin called to you with a playful wink.
You snorted, setting your drink down and getting up. “You know, you can’t use that line for everything.”
Seokmin shook his head, grinning widely. “Who said it’s a line? You just happen to look cute all the time, okay? Now, get over here and help me with the skewers.”
Wonwoo chuckled beside you, and you gave him a teasing glance as you headed toward the grill. “Don’t laugh too much, or you’ll be next on Seokmin’s target list.”
“I’ll pass,” Wonwoo replied dryly, though his eyes followed you with a hint of amusement.
You reached the grill, where Seokmin handed you a plate of marinated vegetables to arrange onto skewers. “So, how’s it going over there with Mr. Mysterious?” Seokmin asked in a low voice, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively as he leaned closer.
You raised an eyebrow at him. “What do you mean?”
Seokmin nudged you with his elbow. “Don’t play dumb. I saw how you and Wonwoo were looking at each other earlier. You’re practically making out with your eyes.”
You rolled your eyes, trying to hide the smile tugging at your lips. “Okay, you win. You are more invested in our relationship than me.”
“I told, didn’t I?” he asked, giving you a knowing grin. “I’ve known the guy for ages. He’s not usually this... I don’t know, present. It’s like he actually pays attention when you’re around. Normally, he’s off in his own world.”
You opened your mouth to respond but were interrupted when Wonwoo appeared at your side, casually grabbing one of the skewers you had just finished assembling.
“Hey!” you exclaimed, laughing. “You’re supposed to let them cook first.”
Wonwoo raised an eyebrow, popping a piece of bell pepper into his mouth. “It’s good raw.”
Seokmin gasped dramatically. “It’s what?”
Wonwoo flicked Seokmin’s forehead, discouraging his thoughts. “Take your mind out of the gutters.”
Seokmin rubbed the part of his forehead that Wonwoo flicked, grinning at you and wiggling his eyebrows knowingly. You playfully swatted his arm with the back of your hand.
“So dirty-minded, go away,” you scolded though you were grinning.
Wonwoo smiled softly, and for a moment, the noise of the group around you faded. His gaze held yours, and you felt that familiar warmth spread through your chest again, that quiet tension that always seemed to hover between you.
Seokmin cleared his throat loudly, breaking the moment. “Okay, lovebirds, enough with the eyes! We’ve got mouths to feed.”
You blushed, turning back to the skewers as Seokmin gave you a teasing grin. He leaned over and whispered, “See? What did I say? Sparks.”
“Shut up,” you muttered, though you couldn’t help smiling.
Seokmin sighed reminiscently. “Man, I’m so single. I wish the others were here too.”
“Right? I would’ve been fun to have them here,” you noted, remembering your rowdy friends.
“We should do this again with them. Say ‘yes’.”
“Yes,” you replied, not missing a beat. “Absolutely, yes.”
As the grilling continued, you could hear laughter and chatter all around—Seokmin’s over-the-top narrations, Jihoon offering sarcastic commentary from where he stood near the grill, and Claire’s voice chiming in from the table, still carrying that same vibrant energy she had when you first arrived.
Once the food was ready, everyone gathered around the picnic tables, the platters piled high with grilled meats, skewers, and sides. The scent of charred meat and fresh herbs mixed with the cool evening breeze. The plates clinked as people passed around dishes, and conversations overlapped in the comfortable chaos of friends enjoying a good meal.
You found a spot next to Wonwoo again, your plate full, though you were more focused on the way his knee brushed against yours under the table. Each little touch felt like a secret between the two of you, unnoticed by everyone else.
Across the table, Prez pointed his fork at you and Wonwoo, grinning. “You two are awfully close for two people who aren’t dating.”
You almost choked on your food, but Wonwoo calmly sipped his drink, completely unfazed. “We’re just eating, Prez,” he said, but his hand landing gently on your thigh under the table contradicted his statement.
“Yeah, and sitting suspiciously close while doing it,” Seokmin quipped, wiggling his eyebrows. “Just saying. The grill master knows things.”
“You really need to stop calling yourself that,” one of your companions teased, shaking her head at Seokmin.
Seokmin gasped dramatically. “Excuse me, ma’am, but this title is earned through years of culinary excellence and—”
“Hey, Claire, do you think Seokmin deserves the title of ‘grill master’?” someone called from the other end of the table, cutting off his exaggerated speech.
Claire, who had been quiet for a while, looked up with a smile. “I mean, he did a good job, but I wouldn’t go that far.”
The group erupted into laughter, and Seokmin threw his hands up in defeat. “Fine, fine. I’ll accept the demotion.”
As the laughter died down, you felt Wonwoo lean a little closer, thumb rubbing your thigh over your jeans. He didn’t say anything, but the way he quietly stayed by your side, even in the midst of all the noise, spoke volumes.
The evening carried on, full of easy laughter, good food, drunk anecdotes, and the soft glow of lanterns that lit up the patio as night fell. You couldn’t remember the last time you felt this light, this content, as the warmth of the barbecue wrapped around you like a comfortable blanket and the buzz of alcohol numbed the cold air hitting your skin.
“You alright?” Wonwoo asked, placing a hand over your back as you were resting your head on the table.
Everyone had gone back inside, save for a few others who continued their drinking by the poolside. You and Wonwoo were the only ones left at the table, mainly because you were tired and he didn’t want to leave you.
You sat up and stared at him. “My god, you’re so handsome. I could kiss you.”
“You’re drunk.”
You snort. “I’m not drunk. I never get drunk!” you paused, staring at your index finger. “Actually, I did get drunk… once, twice? Was it thrice? I don’t remember. Anyway!”
You took a deep breath and tucked your hair behind your ears. “Even if I’m not drunk, I always want to kiss you.”
“You do?” he questioned, amused.
You stood up and stepped closer to him, he remained in his seat, watching you with soft eyes. You wobbled a bit but Wonwoo caught your arms firmly, keeping you steady. You held his face with your hands, squeezing his cheeks slightly. “Don’t dodge this, okay?”
“So? Did you…” Seungcheol paused, hesitating. There was a hint of embarrassment on his face as he finished his sentence. “...kiss?”
You laughed, lolling your head back. “You’re a grown-ass man and you’re hesitating to say the word ‘kiss’?”
Seungcheol shifted uncomfortably in his seat, looking away with a small pout. That expression intrigued you, surprised to know he could make such a face. Then again, what do you really know about him?
“It’s not my fault. The mood of your story is quite… I’m not sure what to call it. Innocent? In a way?”
“I get what you mean. But to answer your question, we didn’t kiss,” you jeered, rolling your eyes. “I blacked out and forgot, but he told me that we didn’t kiss. He dodged it.”
“You believed that?”
You shrugged. “Wonwoo had no reason to lie about it. I mean, that’s just out of character for him.”
“I see,” said Seungcheol, thinking. “So? What happened next?”
You groaned, taking a big sip of your drink before continuing. “Remember Claire?”
“Yeah, we do not like her.”
“Good, she’s annoying,” you said, rolling your eyes. “She was even more annoying the next day after that...”
Prez had a hike planned for the next day. The area was a popular spot for its beautiful river up the mountain, so you all agreed to go. When you heard a knock on your door, you had expected it to be Wonwoo, but instead, Jihoon’s smile greeted you.
“Looks like we’re carpooling today,” he said.
“We are?” you asked, blinking in confusion.
Jihoon gave a half-shrug. “Yeah, I thought the same. Figured you’d be with Wonwoo, but apparently, he already left.”
“Wonwoo’s gone?” You tried to keep your voice steady, masking the sting of disappointment that followed his words.
“Yeah, he headed out early with Prez, Claire, and a few others,” Jihoon explained, noticing the subtle shift in your expression.
You forced a smile, quickly masking the sinking feeling in your chest. “Well, can’t be helped. I’ll just grab my jacket.”
“Take your time. Calum’s not even ready yet, so we’ve got a bit.” Jihoon leaned against the doorframe as you moved back inside to grab your things.
“Who else is with us?” you asked, emerging with your jacket and a small backpack.
“Just Calum,” Jihoon replied with a smirk. “Which means we get to listen to him complain the whole way.”
You snorted, shaking your head. “Well, we better go before he decides to ditch us too.”
As the three of you arrived at the foot of the mountain, you spotted the rest of the group already gathered around the guide for a quick briefing. Your eyes immediately searched for Wonwoo. Sure enough, he and Seokmin were at the front of the line, both seemingly unaware that you’d arrived. A strange tension filled the air as your gaze lingered on Wonwoo, but you quickly pushed it aside, focusing on the hike ahead.
“Okay! Everybody ready to go?” the guide asked and everyone responded with a chorus of yesses.
You saw Wonwoo scanning the crowd behind him, stopping only when he locked eyes with you. There was a subtle change in his expression, something softer as if in recognition of you. He patted Prez on the back, saying something to him before he jogged toward you.
“There you are,” he said with a small smile. “I thought you weren’t coming?”
“Who said that?” you asked, genuinely perplexed.
“Claire. She said she heard you tell someone that you weren’t coming out today.”
You smirked, annoyed at Claire and her obvious attempt to sabotage you. “And you didn’t think to check with me?”
Wonwoo shrugged. “I didn’t wanna wake you. You seemed pretty drunk last night.”
The annoyance you were feeling suddenly dissipated, replaced by shame as you recalled trying to kiss him last night. You looked away, covering your mouth in shock.
“Are you shy?” he asked, chuckling lightly. “That’s new.”
You tutted at him and hit his arm playfully. “Shut up.”
He chuckled, casually taking your sling bag and wearing it across his chest. “I’ll take this.”
You grinned playfully. “Are you a gentleman now? Is it because you’ve fallen in love with me?”
“No. I just don’t want to deal with you complaining about a heavy bag halfway through the hike.”
The hike started out smoothly, with the morning sun filtering through the trees. Your group moved at a comfortable pace, with chatter filling the air as you climbed higher, nearing the mountain’s scenic river. Claire—who somehow found a way to walk next to Wonwoo and you, was leading the conversation close to Wonwoo, which irritated you more than you’d like to admit.
“Are you alright?” Jihoon asked quietly, his voice pulling you from your thoughts. He flashed you a knowing smirk, catching the direction of your gaze.
“I’m fine. Just… taking in the view,” you replied quietly.
Jihoon didn’t seem convinced but dropped the subject. “Well, we’re almost there. Save your energy. There’s still the climb up to the ridge,” he added, pointing ahead to a steeper incline.
You felt a hand on your back and glanced at Wonwoo who just smiled at you. As the group made its way up, the conversation turned to reminiscing about old hiking trips. Claire, of course, found her way into this again, laughing as she talked about a time she and Wonwoo had hiked a similar trail.
“Wonwoo was such a show-off back then,” she said with a laugh, nudging him. “You remember that, right?”
You could hear the hint of nostalgia in her voice, but Wonwoo barely reacted. He just gave a polite nod, keeping his eyes on the trail ahead and his hand on your back.
“I was younger. Probably didn’t know better.”
Claire smiled at his response, but there was something about the way she looked at him—like she was waiting for more. It twisted something in your chest.
“Yeah, when you’re younger, you make stupid decisions,” said Seokmin, laughing a tad bit louder than necessary. “You’re so relatable, man. I try to forget my stupid decisions too. Especially the worst ones.”
You didn’t know the context, but you grasped the picture Seokmin was trying to insinuate about Wonwoo and Claire’s history. For some reason, it made you feel better about yourself to know that Wonwoo’s friend didn’t like his ex.
After another thirty minutes of steady climbing, you reached the ridge, overlooking the crystal-clear river that sparkled in the distance. Everyone took a breath, the beauty of the view silencing the group momentarily.
“This spot is perfect!” Prez called out, breaking the stillness as he bounced forward with his phone, ready to take pictures. “Let’s get some photos, everyone!”
Some of the group began to gather for a group shot, while others wandered around, taking in the scenery. You stayed back, wanting to enjoy the moment without Claire’s constant presence.
After a few photos and a lot of teasing from Seokmin, everyone dispersed, walking back toward the trail to continue on. As you moved ahead, you glanced at Wonwoo, who seemed quieter than usual, lost in his thoughts. You wondered if it was Claire getting to him, or if he was just being his typical reserved self.
The hike continued around the river, with a playful challenge thrown in along the way. Seokmin, always full of energy, dared anyone to balance on a fallen log that stretched across a small stream.
“Come on, who’s got the best balance?” he called out, clapping his hands together. “It’s a rite of passage for this hike!”
Prez shook his head, grinning. “I’m out. I’ll leave that to the younger ones.”
Seokmin turned to you, eyebrows raised. “How about you? I bet you’ve got some hidden skills.”
You shook your head. “Have fun without me.”
“Come on!” Seokmin grinned, motioning for you to step up. “Just once. Let’s see who wins.”
“Fine. You asked for this,” you told him, taking off your jacket and tying it across your hips.
The challenge began, and as you wobbled your way across the log, the others cheered from the sidelines. Seokmin was right behind you, steady but focused, and you could feel his presence as you tried not to lose your balance. A few slips here and there, but you made it across, jumping off the log with a victorious grin.
“Not bad, not bad!” Seokmin cheered, clapping his hands as he followed behind you, landing with ease.
You were catching your breath when you noticed Claire, standing a bit too close to Wonwoo, again sharing some kind of inside joke. Your stomach twisted as you watched them, the sight more irritating than the thought of falling off the log.
Feeling a bit frustrated, you turned away, pretending to check your bag but realized it was with Wonwoo. You sighed again, and then suddenly you felt a hand on your shoulder. You turned to see Wonwoo, holding out his water bottle.
“You didn’t bring water, did you?” he said simply, eyes soft but unreadable. “Drink up.”
You blinked, caught off guard by the gesture. “Oh… thanks.”
“Don’t wanna have to carry you all the way back.”
You rolled your eyes, knowing he was only trying to downplay his concern for you. “Of course, of course.”
You took the bottle, your frustration softening as you realized he’d been paying attention. It wasn’t much, but you loved it anyway. You basked in it—in his attention which seemed to be on you most of the time.
He didn’t say anything more, just walked beside you as the group started unloading their stuff for a quick lunch by the river. The others went for a swim, led by Seokmin, as expected. You quietly took a sip of the water, the cool water hydrating you as you glanced over at Wonwoo in his usual quiet demeanor. He handed you a sandwich that he’d peeled open for you. Even though he wasn’t saying much, his actions were enough, and you couldn’t help but wonder what exactly was going through his mind.
After lunch, Seokmin managed to talk you into looking for wild berries. The guide mentioned there were plenty of wild berries around, so it sounded like a harmless adventure. You walked with Seokmin, Jihoon, and a few others, but Wonwoo decided to sit this one out, saying he was a bit tired. You glanced back at him, wondering why he didn’t want to join. He simply gave you a small wave before sitting by the water’s edge, his quiet presence still lingering in your thoughts.
As you wandered deeper into the trees with the group, the sound of laughter and rustling bushes filled the air. Seokmin was practically bouncing from one patch of greenery to the next, exclaiming every time he found a small cluster of berries.
“Look, these are the good ones! I told you I had an eye for this!” he boasted, holding up a handful of bright red berries.
“Okay, okay! We know you’re the berry master,” you teased, bending down to pluck a few yourself. But as you reached for another low-hanging cluster, you misjudged your footing on a slippery rock. The moss-covered surface gave way under your shoe, and before you could catch yourself, you stumbled forward, scraping your hand against a sharp branch. A sharp sting shot through your palm, and you hissed in pain, clutching your hand.
“Ow!” You winced, inspecting the cut. It wasn’t deep, but a small trickle of blood appeared, and the sting was enough to make you stop in your tracks.
“Are you alright?” Jihoon was quick to notice, walking over to check on you.
You waved him off with a sheepish smile, trying not to make a big deal of it. “Yeah, I just slipped on a rock. It’s not that bad.”
Seokmin, always the dramatic one, rushed over too. “Whoa, are you bleeding? Should we get you back? Do we need a first aid kit? A stretcher?”
You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help laughing. “I’m fine. I just need to wash it off.”
But despite your attempts to brush it off, the sting lingered, and you felt a little foolish for not watching your step. Jihoon offered you his handkerchief to wrap around your hand for now. “Here, it’s not much, but it should help until we get back.”
“Thanks,” you muttered, feeling a bit more embarrassed than hurt.
After a while, the group decided it was time to head back to the riverbank. As you approached, the sight of Wonwoo sitting alone by the water came into view. He was gazing out at the stream, looking serene.
When he saw you returning, his eyes instantly dropped to your hand, the makeshift bandage catching his attention. Without a word, he stood up and walked over to you, his brow furrowed slightly.
“What happened?” he asked sternly, his gaze locking onto yours.
“Oh, I just slipped. It’s nothing, really,” you said, trying to sound casual, though the throbbing in your palm said otherwise.
Wonwoo, however, didn’t seem convinced. Without asking, he gently took your hand, carefully peeling back the cloth to look at the cut. His touch was soft but firm, and you felt your heart skip a beat as he inspected the wound.
“You should clean this properly,” he said, his voice low, a hint of concern in his tone.
“I will, it’s just—” you started, but he was already pulling you toward the river’s edge.
He crouched down by the water, motioning for you to follow. “Come here, rinse it off.”
You knelt beside him, dipping your hand into the cool water. The sting intensified for a moment before the fresh stream washed the dirt and blood away, leaving the cut cleaner. As if on cue, the guide appeared with a small first-aid kit, handing it to Wonwoo. He opened it, cleaning the wound with a steady hand before covering it with a Band-Aid.
“Here,” he murmured. “This should be better than that cloth.”
You glanced at your hand, grateful, but Wonwoo's next words caught you off guard.
“You said you don’t need to hurt yourself to get my attention?” he asked, an almost teasing glint in his eyes.
You blinked, caught between amusement and exasperation. “I didn’t do this on purpose! And you weren’t even there when it happened. How is this an attempt at getting your attention?”
“You came here with a wound,” he replied, his gaze softening slightly. “That got my attention.”
You scoffed, shaking your head. “I didn’t ask for you to clean it up or worry about me.”
For a moment, his brow furrowed as he studied you. “You don’t want me to?”
“What? Of course, I do!” you stammered, caught off guard by the sudden shift. “But if you’re just going to hold it against me, no thanks. I’ll take care of myself.”
Wonwoo didn’t let the comment slide. “As if you have to take care of yourself. Lots of people will do that for you,” he said, scoffing as he nodded at Jihoon who was chatting animatedly with other people in a distance. “Like Jihoon, for example.”
You felt a spark of irritation flare. “God, I hope you’re saying that because you’re jealous.”
Wonwoo’s scoff came out a little too loud, and he quickly cleared his throat. “Why would I be jealous?”
“Exactly,” you said, pouting as you stood up abruptly, a wave of frustration rising in your chest. “You don’t like me enough to get jealous of other guys.”
Wonwoo stood up too, his expression softening just slightly. “Let’s go back together, okay? Don’t go with Jihoon.”
You crossed your arms, turning away. “Did you hear me complain when you came here with your ex?”
Wonwoo fell quiet for a second longer than expected. When you turned to look at him, he was smiling. You raised an eyebrow, making him chuckle lowly.
“You don't have to worry about her.”
“I'm not worried,” you denied, huffing. “Why would I be worried? I'm a 10. 2 hot 2 handle.”
Wonwoo chuckled, pulling you by the waist and wiping your damp forehead. “Don't hang out with Seokmin too much, you're starting to sound like him.”
You didn't say anything, too caught up in the feeling of being close to him to form a coherent sentence.
“Come on. Let’s pack up,” he said, quietly dismissing whatever it was that just happened between you.
After the hike, you all went back to the villa to pack and get ready for the long drive home. Everyone seemed to be moving in slow, tired motions, still buzzing with the high of a day spent outdoors, but ready to settle into the comfort of a car seat. You grabbed your jacket and water bottle, feeling a slight soreness from the hike, but overall content with how the day had gone.
When Wonwoo finished loading your stuff in the trunk, you made your way to the shotgun and sat there while waiting to leave. Claire appeared at your window, startling you a little. She was smiling as she knocked.
“Hi, Won,” she greeted as if she couldn’t see you there. “You didn’t forget your promise, right? That you’d give me a ride back?”
“Of course,” Wonwoo replied.
“Yay, thank you!” she said, opening the front seat door, much to your confusion.
Claire stared at you for a while, making you feel self-conscious all of a sudden. You gave her an inquiring look, which she returned with a raised eyebrow, gesturing for you to get off.
“Do you want me to get off so you can sit here?” you asked aloud, genuinely curious. “Seriously?”
“What’s going on?” Wonwoo asked, making you glance at him.
Claire spoke before you could respond. “Oh, I don’t mean to offend you or anything. It’s just… well, I get woozy when I sit in the backseat for long drives. Wonwoo knows this. I hope you understand.”
Her words seemed innocent enough, but her tone grated on you. You glanced at Wonwoo, half-expecting him to shoot down the excuse for what it was—a blatant attempt to sit next to him. Instead, he gave a simple nod, signaling for you to move.
Your heart sank. Seriously? It was obvious what she was doing. Glaringly obvious. And yet, he was just... fine with it? You bit back your frustration, forcing a polite smile as you got out of the shotgun seat.
“Oh, thanks a lot! You’re such an angel,” Claire gushed as she slipped into the seat beside Wonwoo. Her voice was dripping with exaggerated sweetness, but there was a glint of malice in her eyes that you were sure only you could see because her back was on Wonwoo.
“I have snacks,” she added to Wonwoo, pulling out a bag. “We can share it. I know you like to nibble on something when driving.”
Still silent, deadpan, you slid into the backseat, trying not to let it bother you. You stared out the window, hoping something—anything—would distract you from the irritation building up. Then you spotted Seokmin jogging toward the car, his usual carefree grin plastered on his face.
That was a relief. Seokmin is fun so you’d probably be too busy laughing to even notice the two other people in front of you.
You moved to open the door for him, but he went straight to knock on Wonwoo’s window.
“What’s going on? I thought you said you were too tired to drive?” Seokmin called through the rolled-down window.
“Yeah, I was waiting for you,” Wonwoo replied, his voice light as he opened the door to step out.
You blinked in confusion as Seokmin slid into the driver’s seat, chatting animatedly. Wonwoo made his way to the back, where you sat still trying to piece together what just happened. When he reached for the door, you instinctively tugged it shut, surprising both of you.
“Oh, sorry,” you blurted, opening it again quickly, your cheeks flushing. Wonwoo raised an eyebrow but said nothing, just chuckled softly as he pulled the door open himself.
He settled next to you, draping an arm over the seat. “Where’s our blanket?” he asked, glancing around.
“Our—” you started, then caught yourself. “It’s… uh… there!”
You pointed toward the compartment near the gear shift. Wonwoo reached for it, undoing the fold and casually covering himself with it.
“Hey, I brought that for myself,” you protested, though there was no real heat behind your words.
“I’m cold. If you need it, you can scoot closer,” he teased, the corners of his mouth twitching into a small smile.
“Don’t just hog it,” you complained, tugging the blanket but Wonwoo tutted, glaring at you playfully before scooting closer to you and covering you with the blanket.
Seokmin, who had been fiddling with the car’s controls, sighed dramatically, tilting his head toward you two. “I’ve never felt so single until now.”
You rolled your eyes, but the smile tugging at your lips was undeniable. As the car finally started moving, you caught Claire’s icy stare in the rearview mirror. She was not enjoying the ride at all, and you hadn’t even left the parking lot yet.
The ride back to the university had been a blur. After the initial chatter and laughter, the exhaustion from the hike finally caught up to you. You vaguely remembered the sound of Seokmin’s playful banter, Claire’s chipper voice fading in and out, and the muffled conversations that filled the car, but most of it was a fog.
By the time you woke up, the sun had dipped lower in the sky. You blinked groggily, your eyes taking a moment to adjust. It was then you realized your head was resting on Wonwoo’s arm, nestled comfortably against his shoulder. The scent of his hoodie filled your senses, and you stiffened slightly, unsure how long you’d been using him as your personal pillow.
You hesitated to move, not wanting to wake him if he had dozed off too, but then you felt him shift. His arm flexed slightly under your weight, and you quickly sat up, feeling your face grow warm as you straightened yourself.
“Sorry, was I heavy?” you started, voice still heavy with sleep.
Wonwoo turned his head toward you, a soft smile playing on his lips. “It’s fine. You looked tired.” His voice was calm, as if it was no big deal, and somehow that made you relax a little.
You glanced out the window to see familiar buildings coming into view. The car was already pulling into the university parking lot, the journey back seemingly much shorter than expected—probably because you’d slept through most of it.
Seokmin was the first to break the silence from the front seat, stretching dramatically as the car came to a stop. “Finally! I thought we’d be driving forever.”
Claire, who had been unusually quiet toward the end of the ride, turned in her seat to glance at you and Wonwoo with a tight smile. “Did you get enough sleep back there?” she asked, her tone sugary but edged.
You smiled politely, pretending not to notice the underlying tone of her question. “Yeah, I feel better now, thanks.”
Stepping out of the car, you pulled the blanket tighter around your shoulders as the cool evening breeze hit you. Wonwoo came around the side of the car, his backpack slung over one shoulder and yours in his hand, his expression as calm and unreadable as always. You walked together in silence toward the dorms, the sounds of your friends’ voices fading behind you.
“I guess that’s the end of our little trip,” you said softly, breaking the quiet between you.
“Yeah,” Wonwoo replied, glancing over at you. “It was fun.”
You nodded, the memory of the hike and the car ride settling into something softer, quieter. You couldn’t recall every detail of the trip, but a few things stuck with you—the feeling of warmth each time he attended to you, the quiet closeness that had lingered in the space between you, and although it had been a silly joke, the kiss that you shared with him in the car.
At the dorm entrance, he paused, turning to you with a small flicker of worry on his face. “How’s your hand?”
“This? Oh, it’s totally fine,” you said, showing him your hand. “You took really good care of it.”
Wonwoo gave a slight nod, his lips curling into a faint smile.
He walked you all the way to your room, with your bag in his hand while you kept talking to him, asking him this and that like a curious toddler.
“What are you doing today?”
Wonwoo shrugged. “Probably working on an assignment.”
You raised a brow, pushing the conversation further. “And after that?”
“Gaming, maybe,” he replied with a small smirk, clearly entertained by your persistent questioning.
You tilted your head, pretending to think deeply. “Do you need help with the assignment?”
He gave a short laugh, shaking his head. “No, I’ve got it.”
As you reached the door to your room, you hesitated, glancing at him. The idea of letting the day end here felt anticlimactic, and you weren’t ready to let it slip away so easily. He stood there, still holding your bag, his usual calm expression giving nothing away.
“Do you wanna come in for a bit?” you asked, glancing at him.
He blinked, a little surprised. “Why?”
“So I can hang out with you more,” you answered honestly, flashing him a playful smile. “You can get started on that assignment and I promise not to bother you too much.”
His eyes flickered to the door, then back to you, his lips quirking into that small, barely-there smile he often wore. “Sure.”
You opened the door and stepped inside, the cool air from your room greeting you as you flicked on the lights. It wasn’t much—a cozy little dorm room with just enough space for a bed, desk, a single couch, a built-in closet, and a small shelf where you kept a stash of snacks.
“Make yourself comfortable,” you said, motioning to the small couch by the window. You placed your bag down and went over to the mini-fridge. “I’ve got some juice or water. Or… ah, here we go,” you smiled, pulling out a couple of sodas. “Would you like some?”
Wonwoo took a seat, casually stretching his long legs out in front of him, his gaze following you as you handed him a can. He accepted it with a nod, popping it open with a soft hiss. The sound filled the quiet room, making the moment feel more intimate somehow.
He opened his laptop and began working, but you couldn’t help glancing over at him every now and then. The subtle shift of his focus, the way his fingers moved over the keyboard—it was distracting in a way you weren’t expecting. You grabbed a bag of chips and sat on the floor next to the couch, close enough that your shoulder pressed slightly on his leg.
“Why are you on the floor?” he asked, reaching for the side of your head and rubbing his thumb through your hair.
“I don’t wanna eat on the bed,” you replied, leaning slightly in his touch. “I’m fine, you can keep working,” you added, pulling up an app on your phone.
You were content with the quiet—both of you immersed in your own different bubbles, but still feeling the warmth radiating from each other. You didn’t think you’d actually keep your promise to be quiet and let him work, but here you are.
“So, about the hike…” Wonwoo said after a while, leaning back into the cushions as he stretched out his fingers. “Did you enjoy it?”
You took a sip of your soda, trying to act nonchalant. “Yeah, it was nice. Different.”
“Different?”
“In a good way.” You smiled. “I didn’t expect to have that much fun either. Well, except for the part where I hurt myself,” you added with a playful grimace, showing him your bandaged hand again.
Wonwoo’s eyes softened as he glanced at your hand. “Just be careful next time.”
There was a pause. You could feel him watching you, and when you finally looked up to meet his gaze, there was something in his eyes that made you feel both nervous and confident at the same time. It felt like the perfect moment to say something, to push the boundary of whatever this tension was between you.
Wonwoo put his laptop away. “Come here,” he said, patting his lap.
You stood up almost immediately, placing your arm around his neck as you lowered yourself down on his toned thighs. Not many words were exchanged between you—you didn’t need to anyway, you both knew exactly what you wanted.
Wonwoo’s lips met yours in a soft, lingering touch, as if testing the waters. But after a second, a wave of heat surged through you, and you felt your entire body come alive. His lips were soft, warm, and tasted faintly of the soda he'd had earlier, and you couldn’t help but lean in closer, deepening the kiss.
He responded almost immediately, a low, quiet sound escaping him as his hands found your waist, pulling you flush against him. His fingers dug into your sides, not harshly, but enough to make your breath hitch. The room around you disappeared—there was no bed, no walls, no anything. Just the two of you lost in each other.
Your lips parted, allowing the kiss to deepen, and when his tongue swept across your lower lip, a shiver ran down your spine. It wasn’t just a kiss anymore. It was something more, something primal, and hot—very hot. Your fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer, needing more of him, and he obliged, his lips moving against yours with more urgency, more need.
You gasped when his teeth grazed your lower lip, the sensation sending a shock of pleasure through your body, and your knees weakened. His arms tightened around you, holding you steady, as though he could sense how much you were melting into him.
When you pulled back, you were in awe, staring at him with your mouth hanging open. Wonwoo smiled a content smile—proud, even, as he traced the outline of your face with his thumb.
“Wow, that was so much better than what we did in the car,” you blurted before you could think about it. “I mean… heh. Not saying that one was bad, just, you know. This one is better.”
He chuckled softly, his gaze lingering on you a moment longer before reaching for his laptop. His focus reverted back to his work, which caught you off-guard since you were still sitting on his lap, with his hand supporting your back.
He’s not seriously going back to his assignment, is he? you pondered, a bit disappointed. But he did, pulling you closer slightly as he used his two hands to type.
You casually slid out of his lap, sitting your butt on the armrest, but he held your legs in place just as you were about to get off completely, so you just left it there. For the next hour, you sat there together, him working on his assignment, and you scrolling through your phone.
You were both silent—he’d always been quiet, but you? Your mouth may be quiet, but your mind is spiraling—overthinking, replaying, wondering, and projecting different scenarios in your head—all while celebrating another blissful kiss from Wonwoo.
In the days that followed, things between you and Wonwoo felt different— and unmistakably so. It wasn’t just the quiet, stolen glances anymore, or the playful teasing that came so naturally. There was a shift in the way you interacted, in the way he smiled more often, and in how he seemed more comfortable around you.
Before, it had always been you who initiated any kind of physical touch in public—holding his hand, a playful nudge, resting your head on his shoulder when you were tired. But now, it was him, too. Wonwoo would casually drape an arm across the back of your chair when you sat together in the library, or he'd give your shoulder a quick squeeze as you passed him by in the hallway. In private, he would hold your hand, or rest his hand on your thigh when you were out with friends. There was nothing over the top about it—just small, simple gestures—but the warmth of it lingered each time, leaving your heart racing a little faster.
One afternoon, you both sat in a quiet corner of a cafe, sipping iced coffee while you pretended to focus on your assignments. Wonwoo was clicking away on his laptop, his attention mostly on the screen, but every now and then, he’d look up, meet your gaze, and flash you that rare, quiet smile that made you melt just a little.
“You’ve been smiling a lot lately,” you teased, narrowing your eyes at him.
He didn’t look up, but his lips curved upward. “What? I always smile.”
“Not like this. You’ve been smiling because of me.”
Wonwoo finally met your gaze, rolling his eyes in mock exasperation. “I smile for a lot of people.”
“Oh? Do you kiss a lot of people too?” you shot back, leaning forward and watching as a faint flush touched his ears.
He shook his head, still smiling but retreating behind his usual mask of aloofness. “That was a fluke. And I didn’t kiss you, you kissed me.”
You gasped dramatically. “You filthy little liar!”
He simply chuckled but didn’t argue further. Instead, he glanced over at your half-empty cup and nudged it toward you. “Finish your drink, or you’ll complain about all the ice melting away later.”
Your heart fluttered at the subtle care behind his words. Wonwoo wasn’t the type to outwardly fawn over anyone, but these little moments showed how much he paid attention. You wanted to impress him, so you drained your cup in one go, even though you were already full. He chuckled softly, giving you a look that said he saw right through you.
It wasn’t all just the proximity and teasing, though. You’d started noticing how you both went out of your way to take care of each other. You would save him snacks from lunch or remind him about deadlines, just wanting to show you cared. He, in turn, would grab an extra coffee for you in the mornings or walk you to class when it got dark, without making a big deal out of it. He was thoughtful, considerate—genuinely so.
Later that evening, you met up with him for dinner at a small restaurant near the campus, you greeted him with your usual chipper smile.
“Is that a scrunchie?” you asked, eyeing the yellow lace scrunchie around his pulse.
“Hmh?” He glanced at his wrist. “Oh. Yeah, it’s a backup.”
“Backup?”
“You keep losing yours when we go out. I got this for backup.”
“Aw. You’re so obsessed with me and I totally understand. I mean—” With flair, you flicked your hair out of your shoulder. “Just look at me.”
“Don’t push it,” he warned, taking the scrunchie from his wrist and handing it to you. “Fix your hair. I don’t want it in my soup.”
You took it with a teasing grin. “Thanks. You could have just gotten those plain black hair ties though. That way, I wouldn’t feel too bad for losing them.”
“I thought it would look good on you,” he mumbled but you heard him just fine.
Out of habit, you would’ve teased him—asked if he’s falling for you. But the way he looked away with the tiniest hint of shyness, the red tint on his ears, and the slight furrow of his brows—they all made your heart race. You needed not to ask, the fact was staring right back at you.
The thought of Wonwoo finally falling in love with you was daunting—terrifying in the best way. But you didn’t know how to navigate this phase.
You decided to keep things playful, like always. “Are you falling in love with me, Jeon Wonwoo?” you teased, leaning forward with a mischievous glint in your eyes.
Wonwoo scoffed, leaning back in his chair with an air of practiced indifference. “I’m not falling in love with anyone,” he denied smoothly.
“Maybe not,” you shot back, a knowing grin curling your lips. “But you definitely like me.”
Just then, the server approached, a middle-aged woman with kind eyes and a gentle smile. “Oh, to be young again,” she said, her gaze flitting between you two. “You two look adorable together. How long have you been dating?”
“We’re not dating,” you said automatically, flashing the woman a charming smile. “It’s just me. I like him a lot, and he’s… well, he’s just putting up with my antics.” You scrunched your nose for added effect, fully expecting the server to move on.
But the woman tilted her head thoughtfully. “Isn’t that what a couple is?” she said, her smile widening.
You blinked, taken aback by her question. “Sorry?”
“If you like him, and he puts up with all your silly antics,” she continued with a hearty laugh, “then you’re a couple.”
Your heart skipped a beat, the teasing atmosphere suddenly charged with a different kind of tension. You glanced at Wonwoo, half-expecting him to deny it too. But he just stared back at you, lips quirking into an amused smile, saying nothing.
This wasn’t the first time someone mistook you for a couple. You’d lost count of how many times people asked things like, “When did you start seeing each other?” And every time, you laughed it off, always the first to deny it, brushing away the idea with a joke. Not because you didn’t want it to be true—but because you were scared of making Wonwoo uncomfortable, scared of pushing something he wasn’t ready to acknowledge. Wonwoo, however, never once denied it, though he never really confirmed it either.
“Have you decided on your order yet?” the woman asked, prompting your attention.
After dinner, you walked back to the campus, completely satisfied by the good food. You were clinging on Wonwoo’s arm, your head swaying from side to side as you hummed a song that you liked listening to these days.
“Why do you keep telling everyone we’re not a couple?” he asked out of nowhere, making you glance up at him in surprise.
“Because we’re not?” you replied, brow furrowed.
A smirk tugged at his lips, his gaze fixed straight ahead. “For someone who’s supposedly head over heels for me, you seem to hate it when people think we’re a couple.”
“I don’t hate it. I actually like it!” you defended, tightening your grip on his arm. “I’m denying it for your sake. I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable.”
“Uncomfortable?” he echoed, glancing down at you.
You paused, biting your lip, trying to think of how to respond. “Because… I guess I just didn’t want to assume you were okay with it. I didn’t want to make it weird by pushing something you hadn’t even said you wanted.”
“Why would you go out of your way worrying about me when I don’t even make a big deal out of it?”
His tone was casual, almost indifferent, but there was something in the way he said it—something that made your heart skip. You opened your mouth to respond, but nothing came out. You couldn’t quite piece together what he was really getting at. It was confusing and you didn’t want to make your own conclusions.
Wonwoo let out a soft sigh, moving a step ahead of you, his hands slipping into his pockets as he walked on.
“Hey, wait up!” you called after him, jogging to catch up, completely unaware of the small, knowing smile that played on his lips.
BACK IN the present, Seungcheol scoffed and started clapping, shaking his head as he leaned back in his chair. “Wow.”
You frowned, confused. “What? Why are you clapping?”
He stopped, resting his hands on his thighs and giving you a sarcastic smile. “You were so dense, it’s embarrassing.”
“Hey! Whatever happened to just listening and not judging?”
You were in your dorm room again, the familiar comfort of your space wrapping around both of you. It had become routine—spending time here, where you could sit across from him or lie together in peaceful silence. Wonwoo, as usual, had his legs crossed, leaning on the backrest of the couch, looking more relaxed than ever as he talked about his plans for the future.
It was the kind of conversation that you’d expect from Wonwoo. He had been so open about his future, talking about post-college job prospects and what he planned to do with his IT degree. You listened, intrigued by his calm and composed outlook.
“What about you?” he asked, catching you off-guard.
It was odd to be caught off-guard because of the way your conversation was going, it was expected of Wonwoo to ask about your plans too. At the time, it hadn’t sunk in yet, but you remembered that you were already a senior and would soon be graduating. It was a difficult question for you—a student who didn’t know what to do to launch the career she wanted to pursue.
“What do you wanna do?” he asked again, tilting his head in the way he did when he knew you weren’t paying attention.
You found yourself drifting, your gaze shifting from his eyes to his lips. It was a habit now, the way your eyes traced the curve of his mouth whenever he spoke—how his lips moved with each word, the subtle way they pressed together in thought. You barely registered the question he had just asked, lost in the subtle details of him.
“Hey?”
You blinked, your gaze snapping back to his eyes, but the words tumbled out before you could think. “I so badly want to kiss you right now.”
Wonwoo sighed, like he was almost bored, and you could feel the heat rising in your cheeks. His non-reaction is only comical to you now.
You shrugged, already moving to stand up. “Never mind, then.”
You turned to leave but then came a sudden tug that had you sitting on Wonwoo’s lap, a brief glimpse of him swiftly taking his glasses off and tossing them aside before his lips crashed into yours—all in a span of two seconds.
You were dumbfounded, but you immediately returned his kiss with the same amount of fervor.
“There. Happy?” he muttered, looking bored, though you weren’t fooled by his attempt to downplay what had just happened.
You blinked, still catching your breath. Slowly, you pouted as you reached out to fix the collar of his shirt. “I don’t really wanna talk about careers right now.”
“Okay,” he said, shrugging. “Then let’s talk about us.”
“Us?” you echoed, trying to sound casual, though your pulse had quickened.
He nodded, watching you with gentleness on his face that gave you butterfli. “Yeah. Us. Me, you, and what we want this relationship to be.”
The room felt still, his words hanging in the air between you. You couldn’t stop staring at him—at the way, his dark eyes softened as they traced your face, the way his lips parted ever so slightly as if there was something more he wanted to say but couldn’t bring himself to.
Your heart was pounding, your pulse echoing in your ears, and the proximity of him—so close, so inviting—was intoxicating. He looked at you with a quiet intensity, his gaze flickering down to your lips, and in that instant, something between you snapped.
Wonwoo grabbed your face and pressed his lips onto yours—softly, languidly, like he’d been deprived of it for so long that he wanted to savor every second of it. You quietly kissed him back, closing your eyes to immerse yourself. Every touch felt electric. The way his hands slid up your back, leaving a trail of heat in their wake. The way his lips moved with a rhythm that seemed to match the pounding of your heart. It was overwhelming—the intensity of it, the way you could feel his heart beating through his chest, how the heat was engulfing you from head to toe.
You pulled back for a moment, just enough to catch your breath, but your forehead stayed pressed against his. His breath was warm against your lips, and his eyes—half-lidded and dark with desire—locked onto yours. He didn’t say anything, but he looked at you like you were the only person in the world that mattered. You could still taste him on your lips, the memory of the kiss lingering, sending a thrill through you all over again.
“Kiss me like that again and I’m gonna take it as your confession of love,” you said, breaking the silence.
Wonwoo rolled his eyes and kissed you again with the same amount of sweet abandon. You gasped when he pulled away, utterly shocked.
“Is that… Is that your confession of love?”
“You’re impossible,” he sighed.
Before you could say anything else, his hand cupped the back of your neck, pulling you in for another kiss. This time, it was deeper, hungrier. His lips molded against yours, his grip on you tightening as though he couldn’t bear to let you go. You moaned softly into his mouth, the sound swallowed by the kiss as he tilted his head, changing the angle to kiss you even harder.
You felt dizzy, lightheaded—completely consumed by him. His lips, his touch, his scent—all of it was too much, yet not enough at the same time. You wanted more of him, more of this.
Your hips bucked forward, slamming onto his crotch where you found out that he too was being spurred further into the pit of desire. The contact made Wonwoo grunt, nipping your lower lip and wrapping strong arms around your waist.
Breathless, you pulled away, staring into his eyes and wondering if this was actually happening. Wonwoo lifted you by your thighs and moved from the couch to the bed in a heartbeat. There, he carefully laid you down, running gentle fingers through your hair.
“Wonwoo…” you whispered, unsure of what you were going to say, but needing to break the silence.
He pressed a thumb on your lip, shushing your softly before kissing you again. This time, he abandoned your lips too quickly, moving his kisses down to your jaw and up to your earlobe. The tickling sensation spread through your nerves, intensified by his hand slipping under your shirt to palm your breast. You moaned out, arching toward his touch as your way of asking for more.
Wonwoo’s lips left your ear, trailing to your neck down to your collarbone. His hands were busy with the buttons of your shirt, all while you were angling your neck to give him better access of your skin.
He pulled back once he was done with the buttons, marveling at the sight of your body, and letting out a sharp exhale before lifting the hem of his shirt and tossing it across the room.
“I can do a lot more without those,” he rasped, gesturing at your underwear and you hurriedly took them off.
While you were fiddling with the hook of your bra, Wonwoo dived down to kiss your belly, sucking with an intensity that you knew would leave tiny bruises on your skin. He was moving upwards, grabbing a boob as he peppered his path with kisses and then taking his mouth to meet your nipple. As if by his design, he sucked your nipple and pressed his fingers on your sex at the same time.
The moan you let out was throaty, spurred on by the ministrations of his mouth and his fingers. He rubbed tentative circles on your cunt, trying to find your clit based on your reactions. When he did find it, your mouth parted open as you took a sharp intake of breath, and the confidence on Wonwoo’s face made you want him even more than you already did.
“Oh, I see,” he grinned, licking a stripe on your neck. “That’s the spot, isn’t it?”
You bit your lower lip, trying not to lose your mind with just this. “Since when were you so arroga—agh!”
“Shh, you’re distracting me,” he said after pushing a finger in your cunt that had you gasping. He watched you writhe underneath him, going absolutely feral with just a finger. When he pushed another one inside, you were close to crying, whimpering, and clenching around his fingers.
“Wonwoo please…” you whined, forehead creased and lips downturned—desperate, needy. “Inside, baby. Please.”
“Come on. Say it properly. I can’t give you what you want unless you speak to me clearly.”
You threw your head back and sobbed before meeting his gaze again to say, “Fuck me, Wonwoo. I need you to fuck me really really good.”
Wonwoo groaned softly, clenching his jaw as he pulled his fingers out of your pussy. He shimmied out of his sweatpants and positioned himself between your legs, watching you with half-lidded eyes.
You watched in anticipation as he licked his fingers and used them to palm his erection. As he did, your breath hitched, chest heaving up and down as you waited patiently for him to do what he came to do. He lowered himself, placing his hands beside your head as he prodded your entrance with his cock.
Finally, you let out a guttural moan as he pushed inside you with one messy stroke. The nerves all over your body were rejoicing, feeling both relief and a delightful pain as your cunt stretched exquisitely.
“Damn, look at you,” he drawled, leaning lower to give your open mouth a sloppy kiss. “I didn’t know you could get any prettier. If I did, I would have done this a long time ago.”
“Move, Wonwoo,” you managed to rasp out, not even trying to hide the desperation in your voice. “Please, move. Please, please, please, please!”
He did as you asked, moving languidly as he practiced the clench. That didn’t take long. In no time, he was rocking inside you over and over in a rhythm that made you lose your mind. You writhed and whimpered, urging Wonwoo to keep going.
When it looked like you couldn’t take any more, he paused for a bit, squeezing your skin as he whispered sweet nothings in your ear. Then he lifted your leg over his shoulder and rammed deeply into you, grunting at how tightly you clung onto his manhood.
“Fuck,” he groaned, pausing to take a break. You reached to wipe the sweat forming on his forehead and saw the expression on his face—something between pained and delighted. “We’re not done yet,” he said, hovering over you and ravishing your neck before picking up where he left off.
You kept at it, moving in sync with each other, getting lost in a blur of passion and desire. Your mind was clouded, thinking about nothing except satisfaction and release. You rose to meet his thrust, clawing at his back as you desperately chased a high that was almost within reach.
“Oh, Wonwoo,” you cried out, eyes rolling back just before the pulsating release engulfed you with euphoria.
“Damn it,” Wonwoo murmured, his thrusts becoming sloppy and unsteady as he chased his own climax, driven further into a high by your blissed-out face.
When you finally broke apart, both of you were breathless, staring at the ceiling with nothing but the sound of your ragged breathing to break the silence. You turned on your side, moving toward him and resting your head on his arm. His hands found a spot on your waist, thumb absentmindedly tracing small circles on your skin.
“Is this the part where I ask if I could be your boyfriend?” he asked, breaking the silence.
You giggled. “We’re way past that now. But I’d say ‘yes’ just for the sake of it.”
“But I don’t believe in love. Is that okay?”
You rolled your eyes. “It’s okay.”
“It’s overrated.”
“Yes, you’ve told me that,” you replied, chuckling lightly.
He turned on his side so he could face you, his eyes gleaming with affection and fondness. Those eyes were directed at you. “I’m not good at this. And I don’t know what to call this, but I know I can’t stand the idea of not being yours.”
You kissed his cheek. “It’s fine, Wonwoo. If you want me like I want you, it doesn’t matter what we call it.”
“Okay, babe,” he grinned, pushing your hair out of your shoulder. He brushed his thumb over the skin of your neck, staring intently at it. “I may or may not have left some…” he trailed off. “...marks.”
You gasped, sitting up with a jolt and hitting his chest. “Jeon Wonwoo!”
Wonwoo simply grinned, propping himself on his elbow as he wiggled his eyebrows at you.
“The girls are gonna see that and know that we had sex!”
He shrugged. “They’ll probably just say something like, ‘About damn time’, you know?”
You rolled your eyes. “You’re annoying,” you said, standing up at once and heading for the bathroom. Wonwoo followed behind you, draping an arm around your shoulder and then kissing the side of your head.
“I’m sorry. I won’t do it again,” he said, chuckling lightly.
“No, do it again,” you said sheepishly, looking away. “Just… not where people can see it.”
You peeked at Wonwoo’s face and saw him sporting a massive grin. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
From the start of your official relationship, things shifted dramatically. Wonwoo was completely different from his usual aloof self. He’d be all over you—holding your hand, lying on your lap, hugging you from behind, anything as long as he was attached to you. He’d hold your hand even when the two of you were quietly reading books—a habit he eventually picked up from you after your constant attempts to get him to read an actual physical book made of paper.
Your dorm room, as always, was the prime spot for these intimate moments. He’d lazily wrap his arms around you, leaning in to steal kisses when you least expected it. The guy who once seemed indifferent now craved your touch.
When hanging out with friends, it was no different. Wonwoo would always reach for you without looking because he knew you’d always be within his reach. He would casually intertwine his fingers with yours, or simply place a hand on your thigh. It was so second nature that he did it once to Hoshi by mistake, his hand absentmindedly landing on Hoshi’s knee while he played a game. Hoshi, immediately recognizing his chance to mess with him, leaned his head on Wonwoo’s shoulder, pretending to cuddle closer.
Still blissfully unaware, Wonwoo absentmindedly reached up and cupped Hoshi's cheek, rubbing gentle circles with his thumb.
“Man, I didn’t realize you were this clingy,” Hoshi teased, leaning into the warmth.
Wonwoo blinked, his brain catching up, and when the realization hit, he let out a horrified gasp, retracting his hand so quickly it was like he'd been burned. “Hoshi, what the—!” he stammered, scooting away from him as far as possible.
Across the room, you were in stitches laughing with the rest of your friends, watching the whole thing unfold.
“Babe,” Wonwoo called out to you, almost desperately, making a beeline toward where you sat. The sudden, affectionate tone in his voice had everyone cringing.
“I could never get used to this,” Jun said, shaking his head with exaggerated disbelief
“I hate it when they call each other that,” Seokmin added with a mock grimace. “Like, okay, you’re not single and lonely. We get it.”
Wonwoo pouted as he made his way to you, wrapping his arms around you like a child seeking comfort. “I missed you,” he mumbled dramatically into your shoulder, sending another wave of exaggerated groans through your friends.
You playfully tapped his forehead. “I’m like five steps away.”
“That’s five steps too far,” he said, all mock seriousness, burying his face into the crook of your neck while the others looked away in mock disgust.
Moments like this had become common now, where he let little things slip that showed just how much he cared. Yet, he still clung to his old habit of feigning indifference, as though denying his feelings made it easier to hide how deeply he’d fallen for you. But it was all in good fun, and you found it adorable when he would switch back to his aloof, “too cool” personality just to see you smile.
Despite the teasing, you liked this new side of him. It felt good knowing Wonwoo was willing to show both you and your friends a part of himself that not everyone got to see. Your relationship had leveled up, and it was evident not just in the way he acted but in the ease you felt together now
“Can we go back to when the only simp in this friend group was her?” Jill asked, pointing at you. “Wonwoo’s giving me the creeps.”
Feigning offense, you placed your hands on your hips and said, “Wow, okay. Sue me for being drop-dead gorgeous and having a boyfriend who’s head-over-heels with me. Whatever.”
“Don’t listen to them, babe. Jealous friends are fake friends,” said Wonwoo, covering your ears and kissing the side of your head.
“He was perfect. The best boyfriend one could ever ask for, except for the part where he didn’t believe in love. Actually, that didn’t even matter in the long run because he was still such a great guy,” you recounted, sighing contently as you gazed at the horizon, the warm colors of the sunset painting the sky. “I had never met anyone like him again. I don’t think I will.”
Next to you, Seungcheol furrowed his brows slightly, the confusion evident on his face. “If he was so perfect—”
“I’m gonna stop you right there,” you interjected, turning to him with your palm raised. “There was no ‘if.’ Wonwoo is perfect.”
“No, hear me out,” he insisted, grabbing your hand and gently putting it down. “If he was so perfect, why did you break up?”
You retracted your hand and glared at him, pretending to be offended. “It is, what it is.”
“What does that mean in this context?”
“It means, we were just not for each other,” you said, shrugging in acceptance. “He was lovely and perfect, and all that. But—You know, I read somewhere that we were all created in pairs, and that we were put in this Earth to be with that one person—our pair.”
“Polyamorous people are not gonna like it when they hear that,” he shot back, a teasing grin on his face.
You tutted, shaking your head. “Listen!” Narrowing your eyes at him, he mimed zipping his lips, letting you continue. “As much as I wanted Wonwoo, we weren’t the perfect match.”
“Okay, I get it,” he replied, nodding thoughtfully. “So how did it end?”
You let out a heavy sigh then flattened your lips together in a tight smile. “I don’t know if you noticed, but the whole time I was telling the story, I never once mentioned anything about us fighting.”
Seungcheol’s face lit up in realization.
“That’s because we’ve never had a fight. Not even once,” you added. And somehow, that was everything.
How did it end?
It wasn’t anything grand, much like how you got together in the first place. Wonwoo continued to be a great boyfriend, one you could always boast about. Your friends were envious of such a perfect relationship—one where your man was obsessed with you and adored you to death, not to mention good-looking and smart. He was a catch.
Wonwoo had a quiet patience that made it easy to handle your boundless energy. When you’d burst into a room excited, full of chatter, he would always listen with a soft smile, never overwhelmed by your liveliness. He didn’t need to match your enthusiasm; his calm presence was enough.
And you understood him just as well. You knew when he was getting tired, even when he tried to hide it behind his usual stoic demeanor. Like when he’d sit a little closer than usual or his fingers would linger on your arm. That’s when you’d ease up, toning things down without him needing to say a word. You were attuned to his subtle cues, a silent understanding between the two of you that others rarely noticed.
But Wonwoo wasn’t just passive; he knew how to take care of you, too. When your stress bubbled over, he’d pull you into his arms, resting his chin on top of your head, whispering words of comfort so softly they barely broke the silence. You’d feel the tension melt away in those moments, reassured just by being close to him.
“I hate dental checkups,” you complained, slumping on Wonwoo’s bed the moment you entered their dorm room.
You had just arrived from a dentist appointment and had to have your teeth cleaned as a regular procedure. Wonwoo sat in front of his computer, eyes fixed on the game he was playing, but he was listening to you.
“Was it bad?” he asked, fingers moving rapidly on the keys and eyes darting left and right as he focused on the screen before him.
“It was! I forgot it was time for a cleaning procedure, so I went there totally unprepared. I didn’t get to meditate and mentally prepare myself for the torture. It was awful,” you grumbled, burying your face in the sheets.
“Come here,” he called, glancing only briefly at you.
You walked towards him with a slouched back, sitting on his lap and burying your face in his neck.
“It can’t be helped, it’s not like you can just neglect your teeth. You did a great job back there,” he murmured, his voice gentle and comforting. “I hate dentist appointments too.”
You lifted your head and peeked at his face. “Right? It’s the worst.”
He hummed. “I can’t even last two minutes on that table without gagging. It’s a nightmare.”
“Really?” you asked, surprised to learn something new about him. “You know, I don’t have a gag reflex.”
Wonwoo cocked an eyebrow, finally meeting your gaze just as the unmistakable sound of ‘Victory’ echoed from his headphones. “Really now? Should we put that mouth to use then?”
You gasped, covering your mouth dramatically at how incredibly attractive he sounded. The atmosphere shifted, a sultry heat igniting the air between you.
“What? You didn’t tell me that just to brag about it, did you?” he teased, his lips curling into a smirk.
At this point, you were sure your panties were already on the floor. “Jeon Wonwoo, you hot specimen of a man,” you said, lunging at him with an urgent kiss.
Your relationship was not only built on mutual respect and adoration but also on an undeniable passion. As your lips met, you could feel that familiar spark, igniting something deep within you.
And despite his usual laid-back attitude, Wonwoo would go along with your plans. You’d drag him to social gatherings with friends, where he might seem indifferent, but you knew better. His hand always found yours under the table, and though he stayed quiet, the squeeze of his fingers let you know he was happy to be there—just because you were.
Even when you coaxed him to take breaks from gaming or studying, he’d give you that knowing look, letting you win every time. “Alright,” he’d say with a sigh, but the way he let you guide him outside for fresh air told you he enjoyed the break more than he’d ever admit.
Yet, as you basked in these moments, a thought nagged at you, echoing in the back of your mind. You turned to Wonwoo, breathtakingly handsome in the golden light of the sunset.
“Babe,” you began, “did you know we never had a fight yet? Not even about the smallest things.”
His brow furrowed slightly, realizing the truth in your question. Then he looked at you curiously. “I didn’t realize. Isn’t that a good thing?”
You pondered his response. “I think it is, but it’s weird, isn’t it? Why don’t we fight? Couples fight all the time. Look at Hosh and Mina.”
Wonwoo shrugged, taking a bite out of his churro. “Maybe because we don’t let small things get in the way of our relationship?”
“Hmmh. We understand each other so well, don’t we?” you replied, a small smile tugging at your lips. “I don’t know why, but somehow, I can’t help but think that maybe it’s too easy. Like we never challenge each other or have those deep conversations.”
“We have deep conversations all the time.”
“You’re right, but not because of a fight,” you stated in a matter-of-factly tone.
Wonwoo frowned, and you could sense the wheels turning in his mind. Then he hummed, and said, “It does make you wonder if we’re really communicating or just avoiding issues.”
What he said struck a chord with you. Days turned into weeks, and the questions loomed larger with each passing moment. You began to notice the cracks beneath the surface of your perfect relationship. The playful teasing became tinged with seriousness, and the easy laughter felt strained at times.
You pondered over the conversations with Mina and your other friends about love and relationships, and it began to dawn on you: What if what you have was limiting your growth instead of nurturing it? What if you had mistaken stagnation and decay for safety and comfort?
One evening, you and Wonwoo sat in your dorm room, the atmosphere cozy as you both worked on separate assignments. He was focused on his computer, while you scribbled notes on a notepad. You glanced at him, the familiar sight of his concentrated expression making your heart flutter. It was in these moments that you felt most at peace. And then came the thought that you couldn’t seem to shake: How could something so good not be enough?
“Hey,” you said, breaking the silence. Wonwoo looked up, his brow furrowing slightly. “I’ve been thinking a lot about us.”
He tilted his head, taking in your every word. “What’s on your mind?”
“Remember when we talked about how we’ve never fought at all?” you began, fidgeting with your pen.
Wonwoo hummed, nodding.
“Well, I couldn’t stop thinking about it and…” you paused to sigh, biting your lower lip to prevent the words from spilling out of your mouth. You knew it had to be said, that it was necessary to see if you should continue moving forward or move on with your lives.
Wonwoo reached for your face, wiping away a tear that you didn’t realize had rolled down your cheek. “I know. You don’t have to say it.”
Your lips turned downward, trying your best to hold back your tears. “But isn’t that avoiding the issue too?”
He chuckled lightly, pulling you toward him in a tight embrace. “It is but, isn't it better than saying things that will only hurt each other’s feelings?”
“What do you mean?” you asked, nuzzling against his chest.
Wonwoo was patting your back in a slow, soothing rhythm, calming your nerves and helping keep your tears at bay. “I know what you’re thinking, baby. I’ve been thinking about it too. And it’s okay, it can’t be helped. Maybe it’s for the best too.”
You exhaled sharply before letting yourself sob in his shirt, tears rolling down your face like a sudden downpour. Wonwoo tightened his hug, shushing you gently as he rubbed your back, muttering soft ‘it’s okay’s in your ear.
“I don’t wanna lose you,” you admitted, your voice cracking.
“Me neither,” he said softly, pressing a kiss on your head. “But I think we need to face the reality of our futures. Our paths are set to diverge anyway, even if we try to change it. It might be for the best if we part ways now, while we still have these great, happy memories of each other.”
You pulled away from his embrace, looking up at him with your tear-stained face. The thought of never laughing together again weighed heavily in your heart, but there was also a flicker of understanding that this was the right choice.
“Remember when we were in that seminar, and you asked me if I liked you?” you chuckled through your tears, the memory bringing a smile to your lips.
Wonwoo laughed, a soft sound that felt like a warm hug. “How could I forget? That was when I started falling for you.”
“Really?” you asked, eyes widening at his revelation. Wonwoo rolled his eyes as if he regretted telling you that. “No, but seriously?”
“Yes, yes,” he gave in. “You were so confident then. So straightforward and honest. I may have experienced having my heart skip a beat for the first time.”
“No way!” you giggled, snuggling into him. “Why were you pretending to be so nonchalant for a long time?”
“I kinda liked having you chase me around,” he admitted sheepishly. “Why? What were you gonna say about that day?”
You pulled back, sitting up. “Oh, I wanted to ask if you were gonna tell me to leave you alone that day before the professor came in and I cut you off.”
He scoffed, feigning indifference. “Well, I guess you know the answer to that now.”
You giggled, wrapping your arms around his torso while you looked up at him. “I love you so much.”
“I love you too,” he replied in a heartbeat. “Love was worth a try with you.”
“I’m gonna remember you forever.”
“That’s quite a big promise, but okay. I’ll take you up on that.”
And you spent the rest of your college days in each other's embrace, dreading the inevitable but also accepting the reality of your future. Jeon Wonwoo was a breath of fresh air, the warmth of the early morning sun, a prelude to a beautiful song, and a sweet memory of your youth that would stay with you forever.
[fin]
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i watched the eyes on me mv today and vernon’s part in the mv reminded me of your heartbreak hotel vern omg 😭😭😭 it was the first thing that came to mind when i was watching the mv!!!!!
sending u good vibes 💗 can’t wait for cheols part heheh
yoooooooo i didn't even realize it when i first watched the mv. oomf told me the same thing so I went to rewatch and now I'm having flashbacks :<
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i love this kind of in-depth comment like ASALKLJDLKHJKADLA THANK YOU SO MUCH! I'M GLAD YOU ENJOYED IT!
Backburner | k.mg (18+)
There is a rule of thumb for casual relationships: do not fall in love with the other. Yet with Mingyu, it felt easier to watch the world burn than to stop yourself from falling for him.
one | two | three | four | five
Genre: friends with benefits, smut Pairing: Kim Mingyu x afab!Reader Warnings: angst, explicit content (18+) Notes: 21k words. Part 2 of the Heartbreak Hotel series, but can be read as a standalone fic. Listening to Backburner by NIKI. Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. I do not know them personally and do not claim they would ever behave like they were portrayed in this story.
Playlist: Backburner by NIKI, Say Don't Go by Taylor Swift, Another You (Another Way) by Against the Current Taglist: @scoupsjin @iarayara @gaslysainz @silvermist002 @ssmebody @katfaceu
It was midnight, and what was usually a quiet evening was shattered by the persistent ringing of your phone—tucked inside the drawer of your nightstand. You shifted from your comfortable position on the bed, laying on your back to stare at the ceiling, your ringtone still playing and making the nightstand buzz faintly.
“You gotta be kidding me,” you muttered, groaning as you moved to grab your phone. The backlight made your eyes sting. Squinting at the words on the screen, you recognized the unique caller ID: ‘R18+++’
One week of nothing and here he comes, calling you in the middle of the night. The audacity.
You shouldn't pick up. You were mad at him after all. But what if he had something important to say? Even if he didn't, would it really hurt if you pick up?
Not you trying to justify the desire to talk to him.
“Hello?” you answered, against your better judgment (or not).
“Hi…” said Mingyu from the other line, his voice more dragged out than usual. Deeper. Lonelier. “Did I wake you?”
He did. “No. Not at all.”
He hummed on the other side. “Can't sleep? What were you thinking about?”
“Nothing important,” you sighed, sinking deeper into your soft pillow. “What’s up with you?”
“Me? I was just working on this paper,” he replied. You could hear him groaning as if he was stretching his limbs. “This course is kicking my ass.”
“Professor Jung?” you asked, remembering how he often complained about the same professor.
“Yeah. He’s the worst,” he chuckled but there was no humor in it. “I’ve been staring at this screen all night, trying to make sense of it. You know when you read the same line over and over, and it still doesn’t click?”
You hummed in acknowledgment, shifting on your bed. “Sounds like every assignment I’ve ever done.”
He let out another laugh, soft and hollow. “Right? This one’s on some theoretical nonsense. I keep typing, hoping something’s gonna make sense eventually, but it’s like... whatever. I’ll probably just wing it.”
You could hear the faint tapping of keys on his end as if he was still half-distracted by the work in front of him. But something felt off, and somehow, you knew exactly what it was. He didn’t really want to talk about the homework, he was just stalling. The words were just filler—something to pass the time, to keep the conversation going.
“Maybe I’ll just email the professor and tell him the universe swallowed my homework. Think he’d buy that?” Mingyu joked and you could hear the smile in his voice.
“Probably not,” you replied with a soft smile of your own, but your mind was elsewhere now, sensing the unspoken heaviness behind his casual complaints.
“Yeah, I thought so,” he chuckled followed by a soft groan and the sound of him falling back on his bed.
Another pause settled between you, and this time you didn’t wait for him to fill it with more empty chatter. “Wanna come over?” you asked instead, and he was quiet for a moment.
“Well… yeah, I’d love to. I mean…” he paused and then chuckled. “If it’s alright.”
You rolled your eyes. Of course, it’s alright. You'd always taken it in stride when he ghosted you and returned like nothing happened. Sometimes you wonder if he was genuinely oblivious or pretending not to know. “Sure. You know where I’ll be.”
After hanging up, you let the phone slip from your hand, staring at the ceiling. You weren’t supposed to do this. Mingyu was someone you should’ve been keeping at arm’s length, a complication you couldn’t afford. The smart thing would’ve been to ignore his call. But you didn’t. No matter how much you tried to keep your distance, you would always find yourself waltzing back towards him.
You thought about how easy it would be to send a quick message, tell him not to come, maybe even block his number if you really wanted to make a clean break. You should. A single text, a few words, and it would all be over. Your fingers hovered over the screen, but you didn’t type anything.
Then the knock came, gentle but firm, and you abandoned all protests, tossing them aside as easily as you tossed your phone back into the drawer. You didn’t hesitate as you crossed the room, your hand already reaching for the doorknob.
When you opened the door, there he was—tall, tousled hair, a lopsided smile, as if he wasn’t entirely sure you’d actually let him in.
“Hey,” Mingyu said softly, standing in the doorway like he’d been there dozens of times before—he had.
“Hi,” you replied, your heartbeat picking up pace, louder now that he was here, standing in front of you.
Without another word, he stepped inside, scooping you up by the waist like it was a habit, crashing his lips into yours. For a split second, your mind screamed at you to stop, to push him away, but your body betrayed you.
You kissed him back, letting yourself sink into the feeling. His hands moved to your back, pulling you even closer, and any remaining hesitation crumbled as the tension between you both sparked to life.
He was completely unaware, lost in the moment, and you let him be—because pretending felt easier than confronting the truth. It felt easier to let him kiss you like this, to let him believe everything between you was simple—as if you weren’t standing on the edge of something much heavier.
Mingyu pulled back just enough to look at you, brushing a stray lock of hair from your face with a grin. “Is Mina here?” His voice was teasing and light.
“You wouldn’t be here if she is,” you replied, breathless, your words barely forming as you watched him tug his sweater off, the urgency in his movements sending a fresh wave of heat through you.
For a moment, you stood there, watching as his sweater hit the floor, your heart racing against your better judgment. Here you go, again. You could stop it right here—send him home, tell him you don’t want to see him again even if that was a lie. Again, you didn’t. You reached for him, pulling him back toward you, his lips meeting yours with a kind of hunger that made you forget everything else.
The door clicked shut behind him, and with it, any resolve you thought you had.
“Wait, hold up. Let me just—” You made a rolling gesture with your fingers, trying to gather your thoughts. “—roll it back a bit. I think I went straight to the intense part.”
Seungcheol’s calm demeanor didn’t budge. He leaned back. “Didn’t feel intense to me.”
“Yeah, well…” You shifted in your seat. “I should’ve started by telling you how we met, right? Or how we even ended up in… this kind of arrangement.”
He nodded. “Context would help.”
You paused, sipping your water. “Okay, so… I first met Mingyu in freshman year. Second semester, to be exact. We had one class together—gen-ed history. I was late the first day.” You smirked, remembering how rushed you’d been, shoes squeaking against the floor as you slipped into the back row, heart pounding from running across campus.
The only available seat was next to Mingyu. You didn't notice him at first because the room's quietness was the first to catch your attention.
You tugged his sleeve. “Hey, sorry to bother you.” You told him your name. “I just came in. Did I miss anything important? I feel like I did.”
He glanced at you, brows slightly raised. He looked half amused, half confused. “I'm Kim Mingyu. And… yeah, you missed a bit. Professor gave us five minutes to pray for the diagnostic test.”
“Pray?” you’d repeated, your disbelief clear, eyes wide as you stifled a laugh. “How hard could a gen-ed diagnostic exam be?”
Very hard.
You cringed at the memory of that test and how you didn’t know the answers for most of it. Mingyu was grinning beside you, walking in easy strides. “Still think you didn’t need those five minutes to pray?”
You rolled your eyes, but there was no bite to it. “Alright, fine. I’m humbled. But you don’t have to be so smug about it.”
He chuckled, sliding his hands into his pockets. “I’m just teasing. Anyway, don’t worry about it. The test won’t affect your grades or anything.”
Before you could respond, another classmate who overheard had stopped to join your conversation. “Actually, it does count. It goes straight into your record.”
Mingyu snorted, clearly doubting it. “No way. It’s just a pre-assessment.”
“The professor said so herself. You probably didn’t hear because you left too soon.” She looked at you with a sympathetic smile. “But hey, I bombed it too, so… you’re not alone.”
You felt a strange sense of closeness with her, but mostly, you were trying to process what that meant for your grades. “Great,” you muttered, but you weren’t sure if you were saying it sarcastically or just in defeat.
“I'm Mina,” she said, offering her hand for a shake.
“Nice to meet you,” you chimed, shaking her hand and telling her your name.
“I know. See you around!”
When Mina walked away, you expected Mingyu to say something mocking, but instead, he just laughed lightly. “Guess I should’ve prayed too.”
Over the next few weeks, Mingyu became someone you interacted with mostly during class. You’d sit near each other by default—mainly because the two of you are often the last ones to arrive, you being late most of the time. You exchanged quiet jokes when the professor wasn’t looking and sometimes teamed up when group discussions were required. But outside that lecture hall, you led entirely separate lives.
In the hallways, you'd pass by each other every now and then. He’d nod or smile—never stopping, never lingering. Just a brief acknowledgment as you walked in opposite directions. Sometimes, you’d give him a quick wave, or he’d send you a lazy salute with his fingers.
During class breaks, when the professor let everyone stretch their legs for a few minutes, you’d talk. Mingyu liked to complain about how boring the lectures were, though his grumbling always seemed exaggerated, more for humor than actual frustration.
“Think I might pass out,” he’d groan, letting his head drop to the desk dramatically. “I don’t know how anyone stays awake for this.”
“You’d stay awake if you actually took notes,” you’d tease back, scribbling in your notebook as you spoke.
“Ah, but see, that’s what friends are for,” he’d reply, flashing you a playful grin. “You can lend me yours later.”
“You’re lucky you’re funny,” you’d retort, shaking your head with a smile.
But that was it. When class ended, he went his way, and you went yours. He wasn’t someone who crossed your mind outside of that classroom, and you suspected it was the same for him. Mingyu wasn’t a constant presence in your life, just a classmate who made lectures slightly more tolerable.
There was a comfort in that distance. He was easy to talk to, someone you didn’t have to think too hard about. No expectations, no complications. Just small moments of shared boredom, passed with lazy smiles and half-hearted complaints.
For a while, that was all he was—someone who filled the pauses between lectures. That is until the night of your first off-campus party for the semester.
The music pulsed around you, louder than it needed to be, vibrating through the floor and into your chest. You were seated at the edge of the crowded party, a half-empty cup of something strong in your hand, watching as your ex-boyfriend paraded his new girlfriend around like she was a shiny new toy. Every touch between them felt like a jab. You couldn’t care less about him, not really. But watching him be all giggly and touchy with her after he’d cheated on you with her, no less—yeah, that was annoying.
You took another sip from your drink, trying to keep your irritation in check. It didn’t help that they were standing close enough that you could hear snippets of their conversation—his low, stupid laugh and her breathy giggles.
“Someone’s pissed.”
The voice came from beside you, startling you out of your thoughts. You turned, finding Mingyu standing there with a half-smile, hands tucked in his hoodie pockets as he glanced over at your ex and his new girlfriend.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you replied, though your sarcasm was clear.
Mingyu raised an eyebrow, amused. “Come on. I’ve seen you shoot daggers at them from across the room.”
You sighed, leaning back in your chair and staring into your cup. “I’m not pissed. Just... annoyed.”
His eyes flicked over to the couple again, then back to you. “I get it. Ex-boyfriend?”
You hesitated but nodded. “Yeah. Not that it matters. We broke up ages ago.” You bit your lip before adding, “But he cheated on me with her. So, you know... watching them be all gross together isn’t exactly fun.”
Mingyu winced in sympathy. “That’s rough. Sounds like he’s not worth the headspace, though.”
“He’s not,” you said quickly, and you meant it. “But it’s still annoying.”
He snorted. “I don’t blame you. If it makes you feel any better, they look like a bad reality show couple.”
You couldn’t help but laugh at that. “Yeah, they kinda do.”
Mingyu shrugged, leaning a little closer, his voice dropping. “If it’s bugging you that much, want me to help you take your mind off it? We can head somewhere else, or... just stay here and make fun of them quietly. Your call.”
You hesitated, glancing at your ex one more time, then back at Mingyu. The idea of staying here, stewing in the background while they flaunted their new relationship, made your stomach turn. Maybe leaving was the better option.
“Actually,” you said, standing up and finishing the last of your drink, “let’s get out of here. This party’s boring anyway.”
Mingyu’s eyebrows shot up, clearly surprised but pleased. “Alright. Lead the way.”
The two of you slipped out of the crowded party and into the cooler, quieter night. The noise faded behind you as you stepped outside, the crisp air was a welcome relief from the stifling atmosphere of the party. You hadn’t really thought about where you were going, just that you needed to leave.
“Any place in mind?” Mingyu asked, falling into step beside you, hands still casually tucked into his pockets.
You scoffed. “I don’t know. This was your idea.”
He shrugged, glancing at the sky briefly before turning back to you. “We could walk a bit. Sober up.”
“I barely drank.”
Mingyu nodded. “Okay, fair. If you want, I’ve got some soju and beer at my place. Not much, but it’s better than whatever was in that cup you were drinking.”
You glanced at him. There was no pressure in his tone, no hidden motive—just a suggestion. Still, something about the idea of going to his place made your heart beat a little faster.
“Exactly how many ulterior motives do you have right now?” you asked, narrowing your eyes at him in mock suspicion.
A grin spread across his face. “For now, zero,” he replied, showing a zero with his fingers.
“For now?” You rolled your eyes. “Better keep it at zero.”
Mingyu winced with a mock-hurt expression. “Do I have to make promises too? Man, this is a lot of work.”
“Kim Mingyu!”
“Okay, okay,” he laughed, raising his hands. “Come on. It’s this way.”
The walk to Mingyu’s apartment wasn’t long, but the conversation between you was comfortable. He was funny, as always. By the time you reached his door, your cheeks were red and slightly hurting with how much you were laughing.
His place was a studio, small and cozy with a few mismatched pieces of furniture. It was tidy, except for the couch, which was covered in a pile of unfolded laundry.
“Oh, crap,” he muttered, laughing awkwardly. “I forgot about that. Let me just—”
“Oh, it’s okay. I don’t mind at all,” you said, waving your hand dismissively.
“Nah, there’s nowhere else to sit,” he insisted, kicking off his shoes and quickly tidying the couch.
While he put his clothes into a basket, you took a moment to look around. The tidiness of his home was unexpected. You rarely judge people’s living spaces but it was surprising for a man to be this clean. Then again, that was just the stereotype speaking.
Mingyu grabbed two beers from the fridge, tossing you one as you settled onto the now-cleared couch.
You raised an eyebrow, inspecting the can. “You promised me soju.”
He chuckled, opening his own drink. “Well, you told me to keep my motives in check, so soju is out of the table.”
“You’re no fun.”
As you sipped your drinks, the conversation flowed easily. You talked about class, made fun of the test you’d failed, and joked about the people at the party. But somewhere between the laughter and the quiet moments, the atmosphere began to shift. The space between you felt a little smaller, the eye contact a little longer. It wasn’t forced, just... there.
At some point, Mingyu’s arm stretched across the back of the couch, his fingers brushing against your shoulder. You didn’t move away. Instead, you leaned into him slightly, the warmth of his presence comforting.
“I think you should go,” he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper.
“Wow, okay. There’s no need to shoo me away. I’ll go,” you scoffed, offended. You stood up instantly, reaching for your jacket but he grabbed your wrist.
“No, I don’t mean—” he paused, sighing as he looked at your annoyed expression. “I’m sorry. Come sit. Don’t go.”
You didn’t answer, instead, swatted his hand away and put on your jacket. Mingyu stood up, taking your hand and squeezing it.
“Please,” he sighed, holding your gaze.
You were exasperated. “What’s wrong with you? Why are you acting so confusing all of a sudden?”
There was a glint of hesitation on his face. “Can I be honest?”
You retracted your hand and crossed your arms over your chest. Then you raised an eyebrow, urging him to speak.
Mingyu leaned back slightly, his expression shifting to something more serious. “I have at least six ulterior motives.”
You raised an eyebrow, curiosity piqued. “Six? What are they?”
“Are you sure you want to find out?” he asked back, but it didn’t seem like a question to know how curious you were. Somehow, it sounded as if he was asking for permission.
You held his gaze, feeling the warmth radiating from him, the air around you charged with an intensity you couldn’t ignore. Time seemed to slow as you considered his question.
Finally, you broke the silence, your voice steady but low. “Yes.”
Before you could think about what came next, he leaned in, closing the distance between you. His hand slipped around your waist, pulling you just a little closer. There was no hesitation this time, no second thoughts. The tension that had been building all night finally found its release as he leaned in, his lips brushing yours in a tentative kiss.
You kissed him back, slowly at first, as if testing the waters, but it didn’t take long before the hesitation melted away. You know where this was going—but whether it was just the alcohol, the moment, or something more that drove you to do this, you didn't know. But for now, it didn’t matter. All that mattered was the way Mingyu’s lips felt against yours, the quiet hum of desire building between you as you let yourself get lost in the moment.
Your fingers drummed rhythmically on the table, eyeing Seungcheol as if trying to gouge out his thoughts. His head was tilted slightly, thinking about your question: ‘What do you think happened next?’
“You became friends with benefits,” he said with certainty.
Your fingers stopped abruptly. “Really? You didn’t think we’d started dating after that?”
He shrugged nonchalantly. “Did you?”
“No,” you replied sheepishly. “But you seemed so sure that we were gonna be friends with benefits.”
“I had a hunch. It didn’t seem like your connection was building up to a romantic relationship just yet.”
You scowled, confused. “What do you mean? You didn’t think our connection was romantic?”
“Not at all. You were just friends. There was nothing that hinted any romance until the night you went to his flat.”
“Ah, I see what you mean.”
Seungcheol nodded, not smiling but he seemed pleased with himself. “So, what happened next?”
What happened next? You and Mingyu became friends with benefits, that’s what happened. Despite that arrangement, Mingyu was thoughtful in ways that made it hard to draw a clear line between what was casual and what wasn’t.
At university, nothing changed. You were still just classmates—maybe not even that close. You’d smile at each other in passing, maybe sit near each other in a lecture like usual, but that was it. To anyone else, you were barely acquaintances. But behind closed doors, it was different—passionate, fervent, and surreally euphoric.
Soon after that first night, you moved your rendezvous to your place. Your apartment was bigger than Mingyu’s tiny studio, with enough space for both of you to comfortably exist, though most of the time you didn’t bother with space. Whenever he came over, it didn’t take long for his hands to find you or for you to pull him in. There was something magnetic between you, like a spark that kept reigniting no matter how many times you tried to cool it down.
The passion was always there, and you were always eager to touch each other. Sometimes, you wouldn’t even make it to the bed—his lips on yours, your hands tugging at his shirt, and before you knew it, you’d be tangled in each other, the sheets forgotten. Other times, when the heat had subsided, you’d lay there talking, conversations flowing easily about anything and everything.
It was odd, in a way—how effortless it felt when you were alone together. You could laugh, joke, and even sit in silence without any discomfort. Yet, in public, it was like nothing existed between you. Mingyu never brought it up, and neither did you. It was easier that way. You weren’t together, after all—just two people who couldn’t get enough of each other when no one was watching.
Sometimes, the heat was so consuming, that it blurred the lines between passion and affection. And yet, after the fire died down, there was always this: Mingyu, showing up with bread that you loved, like it was the most normal thing in the world.
“You’re here already?” you asked, surprised to see Mingyu standing in your living room, browsing your bookshelf like he had all the time in the world.
“Hey, beautiful,” he greeted, flashing a smile as he carefully returned a small ceramic bear to its place.
“How did you get here so fast? You texted me like ten minutes ago,” you said, dropping your bag on the sofa as you walked toward him.
“I was nearby,” he said with a casual shrug, wrapping his arms around your waist. His lips met yours in a soft kiss, the familiar spark flickering between you. When he pulled away, he said, “I picked up some bread on my way here.”
“No way, is it the same ones you brought last time?” You couldn’t hide your excitement as you reached for the bakery bag he’d left on the coffee table.
He nodded, looking pleased with himself. “Yep, that’s the one.”
You sat in the living room that afternoon, talking over warm cups of chocolate and bread. You barely paid attention to the football game on the TV, giggling and pawing at each other, feeling cozy despite the cold weather outside.
At some point, Mingyu’s hands moved to your shoulders, and you sighed in contentment. “Thanks, I needed this,” you murmured, closing your eyes as his skilled fingers worked through the tension. It was one of Mingyu’s many skills, massages.
He leaned closer, pressing a kiss to your bare shoulder. “We should take this inside.”
You opened one eye, pretending not to understand. “Take what inside?”
Mingyu chuckled, his lips curving against your skin. “Well, if you want to do it here, that’s fine too but we should probably turn off the TV. I don’t feel comfortable having my idols watch,” he replied, making you turn to face him.
“Your idols?”
Mingyu shrugged and then nodded towards the TV where the football game was still on. Scoffing, you grabbed a throw pillow and hit him with it. You both laughed about it for a while, but eventually decided to lock yourselves in your bedroom.
Later that night, you stirred, the quiet glow of a laptop screen pulling you from sleep. Blinking, you realized Mingyu was no longer beside you. He was sitting on the floor, his back resting against the bed, fingers tapping rapidly on the keys.
Reaching out, you squeezed his shoulder. “What are you doing?” you asked, your voice thick with sleep.
Mingyu paused, turning slightly to kiss your knuckles. “Go back to sleep, baby. I just need to finish this.”
“Can’t it wait till morning?” you mumbled, burying your face in the pillow.
He shifted closer, wrapping an arm around you. With a soft shush, he ran his fingers through your hair. “Shh, it’s okay. I’ll be done soon. Just sleep.”
You sighed, eyes fluttering shut as he kissed your forehead. At that moment, it seemed so normal, so typical of him. But you didn’t realize at the time—it was a sign that Mingyu had trouble sleeping through the night.
Mingyu had a quiet way of making you feel seen. It wasn’t grand gestures or romantic proclamations, but in the little things he did—thoughtful acts that slipped under the radar until you realized just how much attention he paid. One time during class, he came over holding a tiny ceramic bear, almost shy as he handed it to you.
“What’s this?” you asked, turning the figurine over in your hands.
“I noticed that your bear family didn’t have a dad, so,” he said with a small grin, watching as your eyes lit up in recognition.
It was such a simple thing, but the fact that he remembered your collection, that he’d thought of you—it left you feeling touched.
“You didn’t have to do this,” you murmured, smiling. “But thanks.”
“It’s a grizzly, not a polar bear. Is that okay?”
“Are you kidding me? It’s perfect,” you giggled. “He’ll have to take up the responsibility of taking care of kids who aren’t his though.”
Mingyu shrugged, though there was a quiet satisfaction in his expression. “He’ll be a good stepdad to them. I can vouch.”
“You barely know the guy,” you laughed, playing along.
It wasn’t just gifts. Mingyu had a habit of taking care of the little things in your life without even asking. Like the time the lightbulb in your bathroom had gone out. You didn’t mention it to him, but the next time he came over, he had a replacement bulb in his bag.
“Didn’t realize you were an electrician now,” you joked as he stood on a chair, screwing in the new bulb.
He laughed. “Just figured you’d forget to buy one.”
“I wasn’t going to forget,” you protested, even though he was right. “But… thanks.”
It was like that often with him—effortless, natural.
“Alright, let’s see,” he said, stepping down from the chair and reaching for the switch to test if it worked. When it did, he let out a satisfied hum. “There you go. Good as new.”
“How much for your labor, good sir?” you quipped, wiping away the tiny beads of sweat forming on his forehead.
The grin Mingyu gave you was menacing, shamelessly checking you out in your tank top and shorts. “I’ll have you know I do not accept monetary fees.”
You knew what he meant and he made it especially clear when he casually pressed his palm on your left boob. You just scoffed and swatted his hand away. “I see you work pro bono. Thanks a lot.”
With a teasing grin, you walked away. In the kitchen, he cooked dinner while you sat on the counter, munching on an apple. You found it amusing that the wok he used was something he had brought from his own flat. It's been in your kitchen for a while now. Today, he brought his own kitchen knife.
“You might as well move in at this rate,” you teased after he warned you to be careful with his sharp knife. “What’s next? A drawer for your clothes?”
He raised an eyebrow. “I’ll consider it.”
“You might as well do since you’re here almost every day,” you jeered. “You should bring your own toothbrush too.”
“Ah, that reminds me.” He moved toward you, placing a kiss on your cheek as he rummaged through the paper bag resting on your lap. From there, he fished out two toothbrushes, holding them up like a peace offering. “Look. They came in pairs.”
You laughed, shaking your head. “I use an electric toothbrush, you know.”
“Then keep it as a backup,” he shrugged, still grinning. “Or don't. It’s not a big deal.”
You’d joked at first, but eventually, you started using the toothbrush he brought. It felt like a small connection, something that tied him a little more closely to you, even if neither of you talked about it.
And he remembered everything. When you ordered food, he always knew exactly what you wanted without asking. “Chicken katsu with extra sauce,” he’d say, already placing the order. He’d put on music that matched your mood perfectly, like the playlists you loved but never had to mention. Even the book you had been reading—he remembered the title, asked if you’d finished it yet.
Those little moments kept piling up, making it harder to separate the physical nature of your relationship from the real deal. Every time he remembered, every time he took care of something small, you wondered if maybe this wasn’t just friends with benefits after all.
But then there were moments of uncertainty that made you question how much you really knew about him. Sometimes, in quiet moments, he would zone out, lost in thought. You vividly remember one evening when you were curled up together on the couch, a movie playing softly in the background. You had been laughing at the antics on-screen, leaning into him, when you glanced over and found him staring blankly at the flickering light of the television.
When he slept over, you’d sometimes wake up to find him staring at the ceiling. His face was relaxed, but there was a tension in the way his jaw was set, a hint of a furrow in his brow. You reached out to touch his face, hoping to draw him back into the intimacy you cherished.
“Mingyu?” you whispered, your voice thick with sleep. He’d blinked, as if waking from a dream, and he turned to you then. For a brief moment, you saw a flicker of something vulnerable in his eyes before he masked it with a smile. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. I was just… thinking,” he replied, his voice trailing off. You could see it in his eyes—something was weighing heavily on him, a thought he was wrestling with that he didn’t want to share.
“About what?” you prodded, trying to gouge out something—anything that he’s willing to share. He shifted slightly as if the question made him uncomfortable.
“Just stuff. Don’t worry about it,” he said, a noncommittal answer that only left you more curious. He pulled you closer in a warm embrace. “Let’s go back to sleep.”
The way he shrugged it off felt like a wall going up between you, and for a moment, the warmth of his embrace dissipated. You didn’t push further; you never wanted to pressure him. Instead, you closed your eyes, though you couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off.
You wanted to know, to understand what made him so distant at times, but every time you tried to get closer, he would slip away like sand through your fingers. You had asked about it in passing, and while he always deflected your inquiries with a joke or a change of subject, it left you wondering if there was more to his silence. You didn’t want to overthink it; after all, it didn’t happen often. Or so you told yourself, hoping that with time, he would open up.
But instead of that, Mingyu disappeared, leaving behind an emptiness that echoed in the spaces where he once filled your days with warmth and laughter.
“Are you keeping up?” you questioned, raising an eyebrow at Seungcheol who seemed to be quite slow at processing what you’d just told him.
“Yeah, of course. Though, I’m not gonna lie. I’m a little lost,” he admitted, arms crossed and holding his chin. “If you don’t mind, can I ask why he disappeared?”
You smirked, standing up at once. “I’m gonna need a drink for this.”
Seungcheol’s understood. “By all means.”
Mingyu’s disappearance wasn’t sudden or unexpected; there were signs you hadn’t recognized until he was gone. It began with him replying late to your messages, then not replying at all. You’d see him in class, and when you approached, he didn’t avoid you outright but dodged your questions and made excuses to avoid conversation. Eventually, he started sitting on the opposite side of the lecture hall, far from you and even missed a handful of classes.
You were upset, not just because he chose to stop seeing you but because he didn’t give you any warning. You had been easing into it, getting used to the idea of something more. But when he left so abruptly, you felt foolish.
Still, you had to come to terms with the fact that there was no commitment between you—what you shared was temporary, and he was free to walk away just as you were. It didn’t change the fact that his action was a total jerk move.
“It’s okay. We were just fooling around anyway,” you told yourself after almost two weeks of silence. You forced a smile at your reflection in the mirror. “That’s right. You’ll be fine.”
You tried to push Mingyu out of your mind, diving into a busy social life—going out with friends and meeting new people. At one party, you were in the midst of flirting with a cute guy when you spotted Mingyu across the room. A wave of warmth washed over you at the sight of him, but you played it cool, pretending to be engrossed in your conversation.
“So, are you always at Jinwoo’s party?” you asked, trying to sound charming but feeling more like a dork.
“Only when there’s free food,” he replied, a little too eagerly.
You forced a laugh, trying to play along. “Well, they do have snacks... and drinks.”
He leaned in closer. “You know, I’m really into snacks. Like, I could talk about snacks all night.”
Your stomach turned slightly at the sudden wave of ick. You couldn’t tell if he was serious, or just saying it to be funny. What the hell does that even mean?
You caught a glimpse of Mingyu from the corner of your eye, leaning against the wall, arms crossed, watching the exchange with an amused expression. Heat rushed to your cheeks as you realized how embarrassing this was—Mingyu was listening, and you couldn’t bear the thought of him hearing you flounder like this.
“Right, snacks. That’s... cool.” You shot him a tight smile, glancing around the room in a bid to escape. “Speaking of snacks, I’m gonna go get me some more. Excuse me,” you smiled and slipped away from the guy, the weight of Mingyu’s gaze following you as you headed outside.
“Wow, that was awful,” Mingyu said, appearing beside you just as you stepped into the cool air.
“You,” you spat, glaring at him.
“Hello to you too,” he replied, a playful smirk tugging at his lips.
You narrowed your eyes at him, crossing your arms. “What’s your opinion on people eavesdropping on other’s conversations instead of minding their own business?”
“I wasn’t eavesdropping,” he teased, though the grin on his face suggested otherwise. “I can’t help it if you guys were loud enough for me to hear, can I?”
“That doesn’t change the fact that it’s none of your business,” you replied smartly, looking away with a frown.
Mingyu’s laugh was deep, the kind that made your stomach twist in a way that was all too familiar. “Alright. I’m sorry. How about hanging out with me so you need not deal with all those lame guys?”
“Pretty sure you’re much much lamer,” you scoffed.
He called your name softly, a teasing smile playing on his lips but his eyes were more serious than before. You failed to ignore the way your heart began to race. “Lighten up. I missed you, you know.”
You raised an eyebrow. “Oh? Do you now?”
“I did.” Mingyu’s gaze flickered to your lips for a split second before he grinned again. “I missed you so much, I thought I’d go nuts.”
The confession caught you off guard but your annoyance was stronger. You scoffed, struggling to hold back and trying not to just go ahead and smack him. “Then you shouldn’t have ghosted me like that.”
His smile faltered slightly. The air between you shifted again, the playful banter fading into something heavier. Mingyu didn’t respond right away, and the silence that followed wasn’t awkward—just filled with something unspoken.
After a long pause, he finally nodded. “Yeah, you’re right. I’m sorry about that.”
You smirked, looking away and fixing your gaze into nothing. He should be sorry, it’s only right to be. But the fact remained: you were not in the kind of relationship where you could hold him hostage for something he was allowed to do. Yet here you were, feeling more hurt than you were allowed to be.
You let the silence hang between you, thick with unspoken tension. It went on for a while before it was broken by the sound of people clambering out of the main door, their drunken laughter echoing in the cool night air.
“Wanna get out of here?” Mingyu finally asked, breaking the spell.
“Took you long enough to ask,” you replied, striding toward the street with him following closely behind.
As you were passing by the parking lot filled with cars, Mingyu suddenly grabbed your hand. “We’re not walking to your apartment. That’s like a mile-long hike.”
“What?” you asked, confused but still allowing him to lead you toward a black SUV.
He opened the passenger door and gestured for you to get in. While he rounded the car to the driver’s side, you glanced around the unfamiliar interior, a fleeting thought crossing your mind that maybe this wasn’t his car. But as soon as he slid into the seat and turned the key in the ignition, you relaxed a little.
“Please tell me this is yours and you didn’t just steal it.”
Mingyu chuckled, his smile easing some of your lingering unease. “Why would you think that?”
“Because last time I checked, you didn’t have a car,” you replied, watching him navigate the vehicle out of the parking lot.
“Oh, this is my dad’s. He’s letting me borrow it while I’m staying with them.”
You blinked, surprised. That was the first time Mingyu had mentioned his family or anything about his life outside of university. Naturally, curiosity sparked in you.
“You moved back to your family’s house?” you asked, hoping to finally get some insight into where he’d disappeared to.
“Yeah, had to,” he said casually, his gaze fixed on the road ahead.
“Why?”
He hesitated, fingers tightening on the steering wheel for just a second before he shrugged. “Just some stuff came up. Nothing major.”
There was something vague about his response, and you could sense the conversation wasn’t going to go any deeper. He’d always been good at deflecting when it came to his personal life.
You nodded, accepting the explanation without pressing further, even though the curiosity still lingered in the back of your mind. It was frustrating, but at the same time, you’d gotten used to the fact that Mingyu shared only what he wanted, and nothing more. Maybe it was just his way of keeping distance—emotional distance, that is.
When you arrived at your apartment, you barely had time to take a breath before Mingyu’s arms wrapped around you, pulling you into him. It was like being caged, but in a way that made you feel safe, wanted. You couldn’t explain how much you had missed this—missed him. His warmth, his touch, the way his presence alone seemed to fill the space around you.
As you moved together from the living room to the bedroom, it felt inevitable, like gravity pulling you into his orbit once again. You knew you were letting yourself fall, diving headfirst into the abyss of passion and euphoria that was Kim Mingyu. And yet, even knowing that, you didn’t stop yourself.
You couldn’t.
“You missed me, didn’t you?” he whispered as he took your breast in his mouth.
Yes, you wanted to scream out, but all that ever left your mouth was a lewd moan. And when he heard that, he slid a hand under your dress, moving down to your hips and slipping inside your lace panties to put pressure there. He caressed your sex slowly, and then urgently in circling motions while his kisses trailed up from your breast to your neck, nipping at the supple skin before they found your lips.
Your hands had a mind of their own, greedily removing his jacket, and then running your fingers on the firm muscles and warm skin underneath. As the pleasure grew, it clouded your brain and you clung your arms around his neck in fear that your trembling legs would collapse under you.
“Lie down, baby,” he rasped in your ear, pushing you gently towards the bed.
You let yourself fall on the mattress, bouncing slightly. You watched as he undid his belt and kicked off his jeans before moving to undress you out of your dress. You saw how he ogled your body with those beautiful lustful eyes before he hovered over you and traced the outline of your face with his fingers.
“Do you have any idea how amazing you are?” he whispered. He slid a finger into your mouth and you sucked it, making him exhale sharply and dive in to kiss you feverishly.
You were almost breathless with desire, your skin prickling with anticipation of what was about to happen—of what Mingyu was about to do. You could feel him against your thigh, hot and hard, so you spread your legs open, welcoming him.
And then with one push, he was filling you—stretching your cunt in the most exquisite way possible. His body pressed against you as he thrust in and out in a rhythm that sent ripples of pleasure through every single nerve in your body.
And all of a sudden, he stopped, leaving you momentarily confused. He stood up and said, “Come here.”
Without a word, you obliged, walking toward him in a haste. He then spinned you around so you were facing the full-length mirror in the corner of your room. “Take a good look at yourself.”
You saw yourself in the mirror; messy hair, flushed cheeks, and your lips swollen from kissing. You could see him in your reflection, standing behind you with fire in his eyes. You watched as he reached for your breast, while his other hand cupped your pussy, collecting the slick in his hand before bringing it to his tongue.
You gasped at how hot he looked, and seeing your reaction made Mingyu grin. Without warning, he pushed you back on the bed. Before you could move to lay on your back, he lifted you by the waist so your ass was sticking out. Then he pressed your face on the mattress before you felt a sharp, delightful pain on your buttcheek where he smacked you with his palm.
“Oh, Mingyu!” you cried out.
He leaned down to whisper in your ear. “That’s not loud enough, baby.”
“Mingyu, please!” you begged, needing nothing but to be filled again.
Once again, he pushed his cock inside you, making you whimper in the most obscene manner.
“Fuck,” he grunted. His fingers dug hard into your hips as he thrusted deeply and vigorously. Your hand held onto to the sheets, pleasure so intense that you couldn’t think anymore—you couldn’t even see your own naked, sweaty self in the mirror in front of you. But you could hear the sound of bodies slamming into each other again and again, and a breathless moan that must have been coming from your own throat.
When the ecstatic high engulfed the two of you, he loosened his hold of your waist and your legs felt so weak you could barely hold yourself up. So you collapsed on the bed, followed by Mingyu, panting beside you with a satisfied look on his face.
“How was that?” he said smugly, knowing damn well how wonderful he made you feel.
You just laughed, snuggling into him as you put off washing up for a few more minutes.
The heated passion gave way to a quiet intimacy as you both settled into bed. The sound of rain tapping against the window filled the silence, soothing and rhythmic.
You chatted lazily about random things—music, classes, friends—until you finally gathered the courage to ask, “What happened to you? Where’ve you been?”
“I’m really sorry. I got busy with school and stuff at home,” Mingyu replied, his tone casual. But you could sense something unspoken beneath his words, as always. “Did you miss me?” he added, trying to keep it light.
You had missed him. A lot. But you weren’t about to admit that. “Barely. Didn’t even notice you were gone.”
Mingyu chuckled, clearly not buying it. “Is that why you were out there flirting with every cute guy you meet?”
You raised an eyebrow, grinning. “You seem to know an awful lot about me. One might think you’re interested or something.”
He laughed softly, the kind of laugh that made your stomach flutter. “You’ll find that I am, in fact, very interested,” he said with a quiet conviction. And suddenly, the air between you shifted again, filled with tension—desire mingling with uncertainty.
“Say,” Mingyu began, his voice lowering as he tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ear. “Do you want to be exclusive?”
Your heart raced at the word. “Exclusive…? Like—”
“Like not sleeping with other people,” he clarified, though that wasn’t quite the question you were about to ask.
You were about to ask if he meant dating. Thank God you didn’t.
“Oh…” you trailed off, unsure how to respond. “Why?”
Mingyu shrugged, his tone still casual. “No reason. It’s okay if you don’t want to. You’re free to do whatever you want. But… it’d be nice, don’t you think?”
There was no reason to say no. The truth was, you’d stopped considering other guys long ago, the moment this thing with Mingyu began. Still, his offer made your heart race—both giddy and nervous. But there was no way you’d let him see that.
“I don’t know. Doesn’t seem like a fair deal,” you quipped, hiding behind banter.
Mingyu narrowed his eyes at you, curious. “Wait, what does that mean?”
You shrugged again, refusing to elaborate, though it didn’t really mean anything.
“Hold on—what?” He sat up, feigning shock, and flexed his arms dramatically. “You don’t think this is a fair deal?”
“Where?” you teased, squinting at his muscles like you couldn’t see them.
Mingyu grinned and started flexing even harder, pointing out specific muscles like they were on display. “You seriously don’t see this? Look closely and tell me this isn’t a fair deal.”
You giggled, reaching for him with your toes. Grinning, he grabbed your foot and pulled you toward him. The sudden tug made you squeal.
“Come on, baby, take it back.” He leaned down, hovering over you, eyes soft. “Take it back while I’m still being nice.”
“I didn’t ask you to be nice,” you taunted, your coy smile daring him.
Mingyu chuckled low in his throat. “You’re extra beautiful when you’re naughty, did you know that?”
“No idea,” you replied, grinning as he leaned in, capturing your lips again. When his hand cupped your boob, you pulled away from the kiss and pushed him off. “No.”
“Aw, fine,” he sighed in defeat, falling next to you on the bed. Quietly, he settled behind you, wrapping an arm around your torso and sliding his other arm under your head. “Get some rest.”
He didn't say much after that, but there was a warmth in the way he pulled you closer, an unconscious act of intimacy that made your chest tighten.
It hit you then—how much you’d come to crave moments like this, not just the passion, but the feeling of being with him, of having him there with you in the silence. You’d never felt this way before, not even with past relationships, and the realization made your heart race. You were falling for him, had already fallen. It wasn’t the way he teased you or the way he kissed you, but the quiet moments in between, where you felt like he saw you, really saw you.
It had been a long week. Between schoolwork, dealing with your chaotic schedule, and pretending like everything with Mingyu was still as casual as it used to be, you were exhausted. The tension gnawed at you—this thing between you two was starting to feel like more than it should. It wasn’t something you were ready to acknowledge yet, but it lingered in the back of your mind.
You walked into your apartment after a particularly grueling day, half-expecting the silence to greet you. When you walked into the kitchen for water, you found a small plastic bag filled with food on the table. Next to it was a tiny ceramic panda bear, about half the size of your palm.
You blinked, trying to process it. It wasn’t there this morning. Mingyu must’ve stopped by.
You walked over to the counter, looking at the items. Inside the bag were a couple of your favorite snacks—nothing big, just the kind of things you liked to nibble on when you were too tired to cook. There was no note, but the panda felt like something only he would give you. It was cute in an oddly sentimental way, like he knew you’d smile at it.
You heard a knock at the door and quickly set the bear back on the counter, hurrying to open it. Mingyu stood there, casual as ever.
“Hey,” he said, flashing you that familiar, easygoing grin.
“Hey,” you replied, smiling back. “Did you stop by earlier? Or do I have a creepy psychopathic stalker who’s obsessed with me and thinks it’s romantic to leave food for me at home while I’m away?”
Mingyu laughed heartily. “What are you gonna do if the creepy psychopathic stalker was me?”
“I’m calling the police,” you told him, closing the door to his face. He didn’t stop you, nor did he knock for about thirty seconds after you closed the door so you opened it again. “Come on in, then.”
“I was in the area so I thought I’d drop by and surprise you but you weren’t home,” he explained, kicking his shoes off at the foyer.
“Snacks and a panda?” you asked, raising an eyebrow but smiling. “That’s quite a combination.”
Mingyu shrugged, a soft laugh escaping him. “I saw it in this shop near campus. And I figured if it was you, you wouldn’t leave it alone in that shop.”
“I don’t go around adopting every bear figurine I see, Mingyu,” you snorted, picking up the panda again.
“Maybe, but since he’s already here, you should have it up there with your little bear family,” he beamed, taking the panda from your hand and placing it up on the shelf with the rest of your bear collections. “She can be their Chinese aunt.”
“Because she’s from China?” you asked and saw him nod his head. You both laughed. “I’m sure they appreciate you making their family bigger.”
“Thanks for saying that,” he smiled, not the mischievous kind of smile that he usually sported, but a sincere one—as if he was touched by your statement. “I’m glad I could make them happy,” he added, staring at the bear family.
You stared at him for a moment, something warm and unfamiliar swelling in your chest. This wasn’t just some casual fling anymore, was it? You tried to play it cool, but the way he just knew—the way he quietly showed up in your life, making you feel special in small but wonderful ways—made it harder to keep pretending you didn’t care. You could only hope he’d open up to you and let you into his world. That way, you could love him properly.
“Thanks,” you said softly. “It’s cute.”
“Yeah?” he asked, turning his gaze back at you. “You’re cute.”
You rolled your eyes, though your heart skipped a beat. “Shut up.”
Mingyu chuckled, leaning against the wall, watching you with an unreadable expression. It was like he wanted to say something but was holding back. You were holding back too, both of you toeing the line of something you could not bring up.
“I’ll make you dinner,” you offered, trying to fill the silence.
“You don’t have to,” Mingyu replied, but you were already walking toward the kitchen, grateful for the distraction.
The rest of the evening was spent with each other’s company, sitting together on the sofa with your head resting on his chest as he absentmindedly stroked your hair. The silence wasn’t awkward or strained; if anything, it was soothing, the kind of peace that made you feel safe and whole.
It is in moments like this that you realize you need not fill every moment with words. Being with him like this was comfortable and nice.
Mingyu shifted slightly, one hand holding your shoulder as he reached for his phone on the coffee table. You glanced up at him, watching as the light from the screen cast soft shadows across his face. You’d memorized every detail of how he looked by now—the sharp lines of his jaw, the way his eyes crinkled when he smiled, that playful smirk he always wore. But tonight, something about him felt different. His dark hair, slightly disheveled, framed his forehead just the right way, and you couldn’t help but think of how soft it looked—how soft it felt the mornings you ran your fingers through it when he was half-asleep. He always looked good, like some kind of casual perfection, but right now, with his face relaxed in the glow of the phone, he looked almost unreal.
You’d thought he was handsome the day you met him—he’d always had that charm that caught you off guard—but now, now that you’d spent nights tracing every inch of him, mornings laughing at how messy his hair could get, and afternoons like this where he seemed so unaware of how much space he took up in your thoughts... it hit you all over again. He wasn’t just good-looking. He was beautiful in a way that made you ache a little, like your mind couldn’t fully comprehend that someone like him was sitting here with you.
His voice broke through your reverie, a gentle reminder that this wasn’t some dream you’d conjured up. He really was here. “Ah, I almost forgot. Exams start tomorrow. Are you ready?”
You pressed your lips together in a tight line, suddenly reminded of the real world. “I’ve gone through all my notes, but I’m not sure,” you muttered, the conversation feeling trivial compared to what was really on your mind. You weren’t thinking about exams. You were thinking about how, with him beside you like this, nothing else seemed to matter.
“We could pray,” he snickered. “For our grades.”
You rolled your eyes. “As if you have to. You’re gonna ace everything and graduate with flying colors.”
Mingyu chuckled. “We’re freshmen—ages away from graduation.”
“Yes, but if you continue at your current pace, you’d really graduate with distinction.”
He hummed, kissing your forehead. “You think too highly of me. I like it more when you used to call me a himbo. Less pressure.”
Without thinking, you let out a soft sigh, turning to look at him. Really look at him. His focus had shifted back to his phone, his long fingers casually scrolling through whatever app he was on, but there was a subtle tension in his jaw, like maybe he was thinking about something too.
“Let’s go to bed. I’m tired,” you said, nuzzling into his shirt.
Mingyu sighed, pulling you closer as he placed his phone down. “Sorry. I have to be home tonight.”
“Oh.” You didn’t mean for it to sound so disappointed, but it slipped out anyway.
Mingyu rubbed the back of his neck, clearly sensing the shift. “I just have to help out at home tonight. My parents…” He trailed off, leaving the explanation half-formed, and you didn’t press him for more.
“Right. Of course,” you said, forcing a small smile. “You don’t have to explain.”
There was an awkward pause before he kissed the top of your head again, his voice soft. “I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”
“Yeah, sure.” You sat up as he rose from the couch, the warm space he left behind feeling a little colder already.
Mingyu grabbed his jacket from the chair, glancing at you with a small, apologetic smile. “I’ll text you.”
You nodded, watching as he left, and once the door clicked shut behind him, the silence of the room felt a little too loud.
“He’s just busy with exams,” you told yourself, sitting in your living room with your elbows propped on your knees, chin in your hands. You stared at the bears on the bookshelf, speaking to them as though they could somehow offer an answer. “Or maybe he had stuff to take care of at home.”
It had been four days, and you hadn’t heard from Mingyu. He texted after he left your apartment like he said he would, but after that—nothing. The last thing he mentioned was that he was spending time with his father. But then, radio silence.
“He should at least check in on me, right?” you muttered, leaning back into the sofa. “It’s been four days.”
Just as you were spiraling further into your thoughts, your phone buzzed in your hand, making you sit back up with a jolt. Your heart raced at the thought of Mingyu finally texting you, but your excitement died down as quickly as it came. It was just Mina.
Mina: otw to pick u up. U ready?
“Oh, shit,” you cursed, bolting upright. You scrambled to your bedroom, throwing on the first outfit you could find that was semi-decent for a party.
You spent the next five minutes getting ready, knowing Mina lived nearby and would be here in less than ten minutes. By the time you heard the knock on your door, you were almost done with your makeup, except for the lipstick that you decided you’d do in the car.
“Coming!” you called out, rushing to slip on your shoes as you headed for the door. But when you flung the door open, it wasn’t Mina standing outside.
Mingyu stood there, his hands tucked into his hoodie pockets, wearing the faintest of smiles. “Hi.”
“Mingyu!” you exclaimed, gripping the doorknob to resist the urge to leap into his arms. “What are you doing here?”
“I thought I’d drop by. Is now a bad time?”
“No! I mean, yes—kinda! I’m going to Hoshi’s party,” you rambled.
Mingyu nodded, a flicker of realization crossing his face. “Ah! I was supposed to go there too. Should we go together?”
“My friends are already on their way to pick me up,” you said quickly, wincing. “Come inside for a bit.”
You pulled him in by the sleeve, shutting the door before Mina could catch you in this whirlwind of confusion. Mingyu was here—after four days of nothing—and suddenly, all those unspoken thoughts came rushing back. Why hadn’t he reached out? What was going on?
“You said you’re supposed to go to the party?” you asked, trying to keep your voice steady.
“Yeah,” he answered, walking closer and resting his forehead on your shoulder. His sigh was long, deep, and heavy. Much heavier than you expected.
“Is everything okay?” you asked, placing a gentle hand on his back.
“Yeah, it’s just… I’ve been exhausted these days,” he confessed, sighing again. He wrapped his arms around your waist. “Let’s just stay like this for a while.”
And you did. You let him stay there, gently stroking his back in hopes that it would bring him comfort from whatever it was that was bothering him. It was as if you could sense the weight of his worries pressing down on him.
In that silence, your mind raced. You wanted to ask what was wrong, but something in his demeanor urged you to hold back. Instead, you focused on the rhythm of his breathing, the steady rise and fall of his chest. He needed this comfort, and for now, it felt like enough to be there for him. You didn’t move, not even when you heard the first series of knocks on your door. You just stood there, giving Mingyu the warmest hug you could offer.
When the second knocks came, followed by Mina’s voice calling your name, Mingyu pulled away. “Is that your ride?”
“Yeah,” you replied softly, almost in a whisper.
He smiled at you, tucking a few strands of hair behind your ear, lingering for a moment—thumb gently tracing the line of your jaw. “I’ll see you there, then.”
“Alright,” you whispered, leaning in to place a chaste kiss on his cheek. “I’ll go first, okay? You can stay for as long as you need.”
“Thanks,” he said, kissing your lips softly.
In the car with your friends, your mind was preoccupied with thoughts of Mingyu. Is he okay? What happened? Why did he seem upset and sad? Where was he these past few days?
“Where’s Mingyu these days?” Mina asked, tugging on your elbow to get your attention. “You guys are close, right?”
“Huh?” you asked, surprised by the question. What you have with Mingyu wasn’t a secret, but you didn’t openly tell other people about it. Whenever someone noticed that you seemed close, you always told them that you were friends. And in a way, you were.
Mina tilted her head slightly, confused. “Was I wrong? I thought you two got along.”
“Oh, yeah. We’re friends.”
Mina said, “I haven’t seen him around campus in a while. Is he okay?”
“I think he’s fine, yes. Why’d you ask?” you replied.
“Well, something happened a few days ago,” Mina said, hesitating. She turned to Jill, your other friend who’s driving. “Jill, tell her what happened.”
You met Jill’s gaze in the mirror briefly. “Lea and I saw him getting slapped outside the campus.”
Your heart ached. “When was it? Who hit him?”
“It was probably his mom,” said Lea, glancing at you from the shotgun seat. “She looked like it and Mingyu got in her car after. Luckily there weren’t many people there and I think only a few noticed. But he seemed really depressed at the time.”
You leaned on the backrest of your seat, crossing your arms over your chest as you wondered about Mingyu. Is he having problems at home? Is that why he was upset?
“You’re worried. You must be close,” Mina said, probing for answers about your relationship with him.
“He’s my friend. Of course I’m worried.”
When you reached the party, you were stuck with your friends for a while, playing a round of drinking games with other people. When that was over, and you’d managed to slip away unnoticed, you searched the crowd for Mingyu.
You leaned against the wall, holding a half-full cup of punch, scanning the crowd. You spotted him nearby, talking to a group of friends, his usual easy smile lighting up his face. You smiled too, watching him. It was almost effortless with him, how he could make everyone around him feel comfortable. You’d noticed it before—Mingyu was always the life of the party wherever he went.
But then you remembered what your friends told you, and the smile faltered from your lips. How much pain was he hiding behind those sweet smiles? Were they fake the whole time? Or were they real and was he only able to smile this much outside his home? What was going on with his life? With him? At this point, the most fitting question would be, ‘Who is he really?’
You were about to join him when you noticed someone approach him—some girl you hadn’t seen before. She was tall, pretty, with perfectly styled hair and an outfit that screamed confidence. She touched Mingyu’s arm lightly, leaning in to say something that made him chuckle. It was a small, polite laugh, the kind he gave when he didn’t want to be rude, but that didn’t stop the knot from forming in your chest.
You tried to ignore it, reminding yourself that it didn’t mean anything. But when she took another step closer to him, her fingers lingering on his arm, you felt a strange tightness, a familiar sensation that crawled under your skin.
Jealousy.
Jealousy was a strange thing. You had never felt it before—not like this. The idea of losing him, even though you weren’t “together,” made your stomach flip.
Mingyu’s eyes flicked over the room, and then they landed on you. For a split second, you thought about looking away, playing it cool. But the look in his eyes, the way his face softened when he saw you, stopped you in your tracks. He smiled—his real smile, the one that made his eyes crinkle at the corners—and the knot in your chest loosened a little.
Without a word, Mingyu took a small step back from the girl and made his way over to you. You tried to act casual, leaning against the wall as if your heart wasn’t racing.
“Hey,” he said, his voice warm and familiar. He stood close, the heat of his presence drawing you in.
“Hey,” you replied, trying not to let the relief show on your face.
“Enjoying the party?” he asked, leaning in slightly so you could hear him over the music.
“Yeah, it’s fine,” you said, shrugging. “You seem popular tonight.” You couldn’t help the slight edge in your voice, even though you tried to play it off as a joke.
Mingyu raised an eyebrow, clearly catching the subtle tone. “You mean her?” he asked, tilting his head toward the girl who was now talking to someone else. “She’s just being friendly.”
“Friendly, huh?” you replied, taking another sip of your drink. “Looked like she was being a little too friendly.”
Mingyu laughed softly, stepping even closer. His hand brushed against your arm, sending a familiar warmth through you. “Did you know I like my women territorial?” he teased, but his tone was gentle.
You scoffed, trying to hide the sudden rush of embarrassment. “Go find yourself someone territorial then,” you said, bumping your shoulder against his when you pushed past him.
Mingyu chuckled, turning to grab your wrist and stop you from leaving. “I don’t need to find one.” He tugged you towards him, hugging you from behind and planting a sloppy kiss on your cheek. “I have my territorial girl right here.”
You rolled your eyes, but your heart fluttered. “Get off me. Why are you doing this in public?” you chided, shaking him off but not putting in any strength to actually get away from him.
“Oh, is this not allowed?” he asked and you were about to fire a retort when you caught your friends’ gazes from across the room. You felt your cheeks flare, looking away to avoid Mina’s teasing grin.
“Get off.” You pushed him away and straightened your clothes.
Mingyu chuckled heartily, tugging your shoulder so you’d face him. He was smiling softly, a softness that made you feel seen in a way that was more intimate than anything else. “Don’t worry. I’m yours exclusively.”
You stared at him, trying to read what was on his mind. You wish you could, but it was impossible.
The words hit you harder than you expected. Exclusively? He must be talking about the fact that you were exclusive fuck buddies. You wished he wasn’t, but you’d rather not have false expectations.
“I know,” you said, your voice quieter now.
For a moment, neither of you spoke. The tension hung in the air between you, thick and unspoken. You didn’t need to say anything more. You both understood.
“Mingyu!” shouted someone from across the room. You both turned your heads in the direction of the voice and saw a guy waving for Mingyu. “Come on, man! It’s your turn!”
Mingyu chuckled, waving back. “You guys continue without me!” he shouted back. Then he took your hand, fingers lacing through yours, and gave it a small squeeze. “Wanna ditch?”
You shrugged.
“Come on. I know you want to leave and go for burgers right now.”
You felt a smile tug at your lips. “Did you just read my mind?”
“No, but I have a manual in my head with your name on it, and that information is saved here,” he replied, pressing an index finger to his temple.
“You’re so obsessed with me. Aren’t you embarrassed?” you quipped, pushing off the wall and walking toward the door, feeling the familiar warmth of Mingyu’s presence right behind you.
The night ended in your apartment, as expected. In the heat of the moment, you set aside everything—your confusion, the questions, everything. There was only you and him in this moment of passion. Once more, you let yourself spiral into the momentary distraction of pleasure. And when the high slowly dissipated, you found yourself in the warm bathtub, with your back leaning on Mingyu’s chest.
“Are you staying?” you asked softly. “Over, I mean. Or do you need to go home?”
“I’d love to stay,” he replied. “Is that okay?”
“Of course it is.” You closed your eyes, content with his answer. “I don’t even want you to leave,” you blurted before you could stop yourself.
Mingyu chuckled lightly. “I don’t want to leave either. I wish I could just stay here. Forever, if that’s even possible,” he said and it left a bitter taste in your mouth.
“Oh yeah? Then why do you—” You bit your lip, feeling vulnerable all of a sudden. You weren’t used to confronting things like this. You looked up to meet his gaze, looking into his eyes. “Where will you disappear next time, Kim Mingyu?”
For a second, his expression shifted—just a flicker of something in his eyes, something you couldn’t quite read. “I’m not going anywhere,” he said, his voice filled with a quiet certainty. “Not unless you want me to.”
Your chest tightened. His words were simple, but the weight behind them hit you harder than you expected. How long had you been waiting to hear something like that? To know that, at least for now, he was yours, and he wasn’t going to slip away without warning like he had before.
You swallowed hard, trying to find your voice again. “No. I don’t want you to go.”
Mingyu smiled, that same easygoing grin that always seemed to make everything feel okay, even when it wasn’t. “Then stop worrying,” he said, his thumb still tracing those soft circles on your skin.
He didn’t make a promise, and maybe you should’ve asked for one. Because even though he stayed for a while, it didn’t stop him from fading away all over again.
You were at Mina’s apartment, sitting on the edge of her bed while she packed her things. Beside you, Jill was cradling a bag of chips, pointedly refusing to share.
“I still don’t get why you’re moving out,” Jill grumbled, slapping your hand when you reached for a chip. She shot you a glare and continued, “Can’t you just tell your parents you don’t want to live with them?”
“Asian parents,” Mina sighed, shaking her head. “You wouldn’t understand.”
“Exactly! I don’t understand why they’d move to another state just to follow you here,” Jill said, incredulous. “That’s some next-level parenting!”
“They moved because they can’t stand being away from their daughter,” you chimed in, swiping a protein bar from Jill’s stash. “Also because they can.”
“Yeah, and that’s why it’s so confusing,” Jill scoffed, gesturing toward Mina. “My parents love me too, but they wouldn’t move out of their hometown just to keep me close. Are all Asian parents like hers? Do they really want their grown-ass kids living at home?”
You shrugged. “I’m not sure, but it happens more often than you’d think.” Your mind briefly wandered to Mingyu, remembering how he’d moved back in with his parents.
Before you could say more, music blared from outside the bedroom, cutting through the conversation. You looked up to see Lea entering the room, a towel draped over her shoulders like a makeshift cape. She carried a speaker in one hand, which she promptly set down on the nightstand.
“You say!” she belted, voice dramatic as she launched into the opening lines of a Hamilton song. “The price of my love is not a price that you’re willing to pay!”
The three of you groaned in unison.
Mina rolled her eyes, standing up to shove Lea out of the room. “Get out, nerd,” she said, feigning annoyance but unable to hide her smile.
“She’s sad. Let her grieve,” you teased, glancing toward the door where Lea continued knocking persistently.
Mina sighed and switched off the speaker, silencing the music. “She’s just overdramatic, that’s what she is. It’s not like we won’t see each other anymore.”
“Maybe you won’t,” you said, shrugging. “Who knows? Some people like to disappear and not say a word. Only to show up out of nowhere and act like nothing happened.”
Mina crossed her arms over her chest, tilting her head slightly as she observed you with a hint of suspicion in her eyes. “Where is this coming from?”
You shrugged, glancing at Jill who was giving you the same look. The chuckle you let out was awkward and defensive. “Nowhere. I’m just yapping for no reason. You know me.”
“Yeah, we know you,” Jill said, grinning playfully. “We know you’re hiding someone up at your apartment.”
“WHAT?” you exclaimed, backing away and laughing incredulously. “No. When did I ever! You’re crazy," you denied, snorting.
“Uh-huh? Then why haven’t we been invited there in like, six months already?” Jill interrogated.
You looked away. “I didn’t know you guys were keeping count.”
“Who is it?” Mina pressed, a teasing smile on her lips.
“No one,” you said briskly. “We haven’t talked in like, a week.”
“Oh, is it over before we even found out who it was?” Mina asked, appalled.
Before you could respond, Lea’s voice rang out from outside the door, full of flair. “You’ll be back! Soon you’ll see! You’ll remember you belong to me!”
Yeah. Mingyu will be back. Like always.
You went on with your life, like always. You’d learned to adapt. Classes came and went, each lecture merging into the next. On the first few times that Mingyu would disappear, you used to be distracted. Now you just went on as usual. Each day passed in a blur of classes, late-night study sessions, and the occasional laugh with friends.
“You still haven’t told us who this mystery man is. He’s not a professor, is he?” Lea questioned while you were at a cafe one evening.
“No! What the heck?” you said briskly, shaking your head at the ridiculous accusation.
“Is it Mingyu? You guys seem... close,” Mina teased.
“No,” you lied, blatantly.
Mina nudged your elbow. “Then why won’t you tell us?”
You hesitated, glancing down at your plate. “It’s just… it’s complicated.”
“Complicated how?” Jill asked, leaning in, her eyes glimmering with curiosity. “He ghosted you, right? You’re better off without him.”
“Yeah, I guess,” you said, but the words felt heavy in your mouth. You could not bring yourself to tell them that he’d done this before, and that he’d be back. When he does, you’d take him back like you always did.
You didn’t want to tell them how much you craved his presence, even if it was a source of confusion and pain. The idea of him laughing and teasing you again, the thought of being held by him, being one with him in body and mind—it all felt like a drug you couldn’t resist. How could you tell your friends that? They’d kill you if they can’t kill Mingyu first.
Mina reached out, squeezing your hand. “You deserve someone who’s all in. Not someone who just pops in and out of your life.”
“I know,” you nodded, appreciating their concern. You know they were right, but you still wanted to wait for Mingyu.
Just as the ache began to dull into a familiar rhythm, you were in the library, buried under a pile of textbooks. The quiet hum of studying students surrounded you, but you were in your own world, focusing on an assignment.
“Hey, stranger,” said a familiar voice that made your heart race. You looked up to find Mingyu and your stomach flipped as you caught his eye. He looked goofy—exactly as you remembered. “Missed me?”
“More like I forgot what you looked like,” you retorted, trying to play it cool.
He laughed, that warm, infectious laugh that always made your heart flutter. “Oh, come on! You know you missed my face.”
“Not as much as I missed your annoying habit of interrupting my study sessions,” you shot back, though you couldn’t suppress the smile creeping onto your face.
Mingyu grinned, leaning closer. “I can’t help it. What’s more interesting than me?”
Your heart swelled at his playful confidence, and for the first time in weeks, the tension in your chest eased a little. “A lot of things, actually,” you teased, trying to keep the atmosphere light.
“Lies,” he said pouting as he slid on the seat next to you, scooting so close that your shoulders were squeezed together. “So, any plans tonight?”
You rolled your eyes, but inside, you felt the warmth of his presence filling the void he had left.
Mingyu started to integrate himself back into your life seamlessly. He would swing by your apartment with snacks, distract you with silly anecdotes, and make you laugh until your sides hurt. You need not mention that most of these nights were spent with your limbs tangled underneath your sheets—half his weight pressing on you, your fingernails digging into his skin, as your moans blended with his soft grunts, creating a beautiful melody that made you lose your mind.
One afternoon, you found yourselves in the park, lounging on the grass under the fading sunlight. “So, what’s new with you?” he asked, propping himself up on his elbow to look at you.
“Not much. Just the usual—classes, studying, hanging out with the same friends,” you replied, your gaze drifting to the clouds above.
He raised an eyebrow. “Just that? No wild adventures? No spontaneous trips?”
You laughed softly. “You’re my wild adventures, Mingyu.”
Mingyu’s expression shifted, his playful demeanor softening as he studied your face. “I’m sorry for disappearing like that. I just needed some time to take care of stuff,” he explained, playing with the ends of your hair. “I wish I didn’t have to.”
His words hung in the air, and your breath caught in your throat. The way he looked at you made you feel special again—loved even. You could feel the warmth spreading in your chest, a blend of relief and yearning.
“I’m glad you’re back,” you said softly, your heart swelling with hope.
“I know,” he replied with a teasing smirk, but his eyes were sincere. You stayed like that for a while, just staring at each other, not quite understanding what your eyes were trying to tell each other, but content nonetheless.
“I should go,” you said, sitting up. Mingyu followed, holding your hand and resting his chin on your shoulder.
“Go where? I was hoping we could hang out again tonight. How does steak sound? I’ve gotten good at it recently.”
“I am tempted, but maybe next time. I made plans with the girls.”
“Can I sleep over tonight, then? I don’t wanna go home,” he pleaded.
You winced. “Mina’s sleeping over tonight.”
“Didn’t she sleep over the other day, though?”
“Yeah, well. She doesn’t have an apartment anymore. It’s a long story.”
Mingyu gasped playfully. “Is she moving in with you?”
“No, not really. But she’d be sleeping over sometimes.”
“Not your friend cockblocking me.”
You threw your head back laughing. “Dumbass. Go away.”
As the days turned into weeks, you settled back into the regular rhythm with him. Mingyu seemed lighter, more carefree. Every moment felt precious, as if you were both making up for lost time.
But behind the lighthearted moments, you could feel it—the underlying tension that often accompanied Mingyu’s presence. You pushed it aside, choosing to savor the time you had together instead of dwelling on what might come next.
Then, one chilly evening, it happened.
You’d heard somewhere before that one should expect disappointment. That way, the said disappointment would hurt less once it comes. They were only half-right.
“What’s your opinion so far?” you asked, watching Seungcheol lean back in his chair.
He shook his head slowly. “I’m not really in a position to comment.”
“It’s fine. I don’t mind. I’m the one asking.”
He hesitated, choosing his words carefully. “I think you’ve got yourself stuck in an impasse. And honestly, it’s a frustrating one, because you knew what was going on, you didn’t like it, and you knew exactly what you could do to get out of it.”
“And your point is?”
“My point is, you could have spared yourself the trouble. You could have chosen differently—confront him, walk away, tell him to leave if he’s just gonna keep doing what he’s doing,” he replied.
You shot him a teasing smile. “Notice how you’re listing all the things I could have done, instead of what Mingyu should have done?”
There was a flicker of realization on Seungcheol’s face, clearly caught off guard. “Oh…”
You chuckled softly. “Exactly. That’s because people generally don’t trust men to be capable of picking up after their messes.”
“That’s actually a good insight,” he admitted with a nod. “So what happened after that?”
“You know what happened. It’s where I started when I told you this story. He called me after a week of radio silence, complaining about his annoying professor. Then I invited him over, we had sex, and we fell back into the same cycle of pretending like nothing was wrong. With him. Or with us. Then he vanished again.”
Seungcheol nodded quietly as he refilled your empty glass. For some reason, the gesture felt like a pat on your shoulder. In your mind, you thought that maybe this was his way of comforting you. That is—if he cared at all.
“That was the first time we fought,” you added, smiling bitterly at the memory.
At that point, you’d recognize the cues. You’d had Mingyu memorized and knew exactly from the way he was beginning to get detached that he was about to disappear again—late replies, making excuses and avoiding you at the campus. The thought of being abandoned by him once more struck a chord in you. Before you know it, you were confronting him, demanding to be heard.
“You’re doing it again,” you said, just as he was reaching for the doorknob.
Mingyu stopped, looked back at you, and blinked, confused. “Doing what?”
You gestured at him at the door. “This. The avoiding, the excuses.” Your voice was sharper than you intended, but you couldn’t hold it back anymore.
He shifted, clearly uncomfortable. “I’ve been busy—”
“Stop!” you interrupted. “Just stop it! Don’t lie to me, Mingyu. You think I don’t notice? You’re pulling away, and you always do this right before you disappear!”
Mingyu sighed, backing away from the door and facing you fully. He uttered your name—softly, pleadingly. “Come on, baby. Let’s not do this right now.”
“What? Am I supposed to just take it in stride while you disappear to God knows where without so much as a word? No. We’re doing this right now,” you demanded. The corner of your eyes began to sting with the tears threatening to fall.
He reached to touch you but you recoiled, and he could only clench his fist then withdraw his hand. “I’m sorry.”
“Is that all you have to say?” you asked, appalled.
“I don’t wanna make excuses.”
“Who said you have to?” you asked quietly, your voice unsteady. “You just have to be honest.”
“It's easier said than done!” he snapped, exhaling sharply as he held your gaze. You could see the hesitation on his face before he looked away and ran his fingers through his hair in frustration.
“What do you want from me, Mingyu?” you croaked out, trying to steady yourself on your feet. “Why do you keep doing this to me?”
“I don’t mean to hurt you,” he said defensively, reaching out again but you backed away.
“But you do! And I feel like absolute shit because… because…” The words got stuck in your throat. How were you supposed to explain the constant tug-of-war inside you? The feeling of wanting more but being too scared to ask for it? “Am I just someone you use when it’s convenient? Someone you need when you’re lonely, then toss aside the moment you’re done?”
“No! Don’t say that!” Mingyu growled, grabbing you by the shoulders and pulling you into a tight hug. You tensed at first, but then you felt it—the way his arms wrapped around you, not in anger, but in desperation. “I care about you. I care a lot about you.”
The force of his hold spoke louder than anything he’d said. His grip tightened slightly, but it wasn’t suffocating. It felt… conflicted, as if he was holding onto you for dear life but didn’t know how to tell you why. You felt his breath, unsteady against your hair, like he was battling with words that refused to come out.
But it wasn’t enough.
You stiffened in his arms, resisting the urge to melt into his warmth like you always had before. “Mingyu,” you whispered, your voice barely holding together, “if you care about me, why won’t you just be honest?”
He didn’t let go, but his grip faltered, his fingers loosening just enough for you to feel the uncertainty. His silence stretched on, filling the air between you, but he still couldn’t say it. He couldn’t give you what you needed—a promise, a reason, something to hold onto.
“Go,” you said, your voice raw with pain.
Mingyu faltered, his arms falling to his sides, his eyes pleading as if you’d just said something he wasn’t ready to hear. “Please…” he whispered, reaching out again.
You turned your back on him. “Just go, Mingyu,” you repeated, voice cracking as you struggled to keep your tears at bay. “Go. I can’t do this right now.”
With your back turned you didn’t see him linger by the door, hand hesitating on the knob. You didn’t catch the sadness clouding his eyes, the way his fingers twitched as if to reach for you one last time. And you missed the way he looked at you—torn, broken—before he slipped out of your life once again.
And with Mingyu gone, he didn’t see your legs give out beneath you. You collapsed onto the living room floor, where the two of you had spent countless hours together, making memories that now felt like they belonged to a different time. Your sobs filled the silence of the empty room, the weight of everything crashing down on you, and for the first time, you let yourself break at the place where you had once felt whole.
You went on with your life, almost mechanical now with its repetition. Classes, study sessions, dinners with friends—it was all about keeping your head above water, distracting yourself from the void Mingyu had left behind. You had been through this before, so in some twisted way, you were used to it. He always came and went, and every time he left, it hurt less. The only difference was that this time, you weren’t sure if he’d ever come back.
You missed him in the morning. Your eyes searched for him around campus all day. And your soul ached to be held by him at night. Your friends noticed your distracted state, and they had asked once but didn’t press on when you’d hinted that you didn’t want to talk about it. They figured that, eventually, you'd open up. In the meantime, you stuck to your routine, pretending everything was fine. And in a way, it was. Your tears eventually dried up and the restless nights decreased. The pain had dulled, and you were starting to accept that maybe this was for the best.
But it seemed like fate wasn’t done toying with you yet. One evening, you were lounging on the couch with Jill, Lea, and Mina. You were halfway through a movie you’d been meaning to watch, a quiet evening like so many before when your friends had kept you company so you weren’t left to your sad thoughts.
Then your phone rang. At first, you thought it might have been a mistake, that you were hallucinating when you saw Mingyu’s nickname on your screen.
“R18 plus plus plus? Who’s that?” Mina teased, noticing the name flash on your phone. “A fling?”
“It’s no one,” you muttered, still staring at the screen.
“Aren’t you gonna pick it up? It’s kinda loud, love,” said Jill, motioning to the TV.
You stood up, heading to the kitchen to answer the call. You knew you shouldn’t, but a part of you—the part that still hoped, still craved his presence—wanted to hear what he had to say.
“Hello?” you answered, your voice shaky.
“Hi.” The voice on the other end was unfamiliar, and they said your name uncertainly.
“Yes. Who is this?”
“This is Dan. Your number was on the phone so I called. Can you come to the bar downtown? It’s right across from 00 University. The owner of this phone had a little too much to drink. Can you come pick him up?”
For a moment, you couldn’t speak. Mingyu? You hadn’t heard from him in weeks. “I… yeah, I’ll be there,” you managed, glancing at your friends. “Give me twenty minutes.”
You ended the call and stood, grabbing your coat. Mina raised an eyebrow, but you avoided her gaze. “I have to go,” you said quickly.
“Now, now. You’re not ditching us for Mr. R18 plus plus plus, are you?” Mina teased again, but you weren’t in the mood for jokes.
“R18? Is that a booty call?” Lea chuckled.
“It’s not what you think, guys.” You sighed, offering a quick, apologetic smile. “I’ll be right back.”
Without waiting for their protests, you rushed out the door, your heart pounding. You were confused and surprised. Mingyu drunk and alone in a bar? This was so out of character for him. He’d never done anything like this before.
When you arrived at the bar, you spotted him immediately. Slumped against the counter, his head hanging low, he was a mess. His hair was tousled, his eyes half-closed, and his cheeks flushed with alcohol. The confident Mingyu you knew was gone, replaced by this hollow, drunken version. You approached him, appalled at the sight of him looking wasted.
“You must be her,” asked the bartender.
You nodded, glancing at Mingyu. “How long has he been like this?”
Dan sighed. “A few hours. He was drinking alone, staring at your number. Said he wanted to call, but wasn’t sure if he should.”
Your heart twisted at that. He wanted to call? He was thinking about you? But then, why hadn’t he?
“How much did he drink?” you asked, eyeing about a dozen bottles of beer in front of him and hoping he didn’t drink all of those by himself.
Mingyu stirred at the sound of your voice, his head lifting slightly. He tried to focus on you, but his eyes were hazy. He mumbled your name. “...is that you?”
Dan gave you a sympathetic smile. “He’s all yours.”
“Yeah, it’s me.” You sighed, wrapping an arm around him, trying to lift him to his feet. He leaned heavily against you, his body sagging.
He whispered your name again, slurring the syllables, and for a moment, something inside you softened. But no. You couldn’t do this again. Not like this.
With a struggle, you managed to get him outside. “Kim Mingyu, you’re gonna have to pull it together, or I’ll leave you here.”
Mingyu groaned, trying to straighten up. “I missed you,” he mumbled, his words barely coherent. He stumbled, reaching for your face but missing, his hand landing on your shoulder instead. He rested his head on your shoulder, taking a deep breath. “Missed you so much.”
You winced at the words, unsure of what to feel. Did he mean it? Or was it the alcohol talking? “Come on. Let’s get you home.”
In the cab ride back to your apartment, he kept trying to pull you closer, his head resting on your shoulder, his breath warm against your neck. Every time he said your name, it felt like a knife twisting in your chest. How could he hurt you so easily, and yet make you feel so needed at the same time?
When you got him inside, your friends were still there, their faces full of questions. Jill stood first. “What’s going on?” she asked, though the answer was obvious.
“He’s drunk,” you said simply, guiding him to the couch. “I’m sorry. Can we call it a night? I promise I’ll explain later.”
They exchanged looks but didn’t argue. Lea gave you a quick hug before leaving, followed by Jill and Mina. “Text us if you need anything,” Mina said quietly, her eyes lingering on you as if she wanted to say more.
Once they were gone, you turned to Mingyu, who had collapsed onto the couch. He was mumbling your name again, his eyes barely open.
You knelt beside him, brushing the hair from his forehead. “You’re a mess, Mingyu.”
He smiled lazily, his hand reaching for your face. Then he chuckled. “Dan, you bastard, what did you put in my drink? Why am I seeing things?" he drawled out the words.
“You’re not seeing things,” you chided, albeit softly, as you pushed his hand away.
You sighed, pulling away from his touch. You started to help him out of his jacket, his body warm and damp with sweat. As you worked, he kept trying to pull you closer, his hands wandering over your body, his lips trying to find yours but clumsily landing on different spots in your face.
You swatted his hand each time, and pushed him away as much as you could. You stripped him down until he was left with only his boxers. Afterward, you gave him a blanket and were about to leave when he grabbed you by the waist.
“Stay,” he whispered.
Just like that, the tears you thought had dried up started welling your eyes again. You stood there, letting yourself get enveloped by his warmth again. If only he could stay like this—open, vulnerable, needing you. But deep down, you knew this wasn’t real. Tomorrow, he’d be gone again.
The morning light filtered through the curtains, soft and gentle. You stirred awake, feeling a familiar ache settle deep in your chest. The first thing you did was rise out of bed and go to the living room. Mingyu was still asleep on the couch, his arm draped lazily over the edge, his chest rising and falling in slow, steady breaths.
Quietly, you walked over to the couch. You sat down on the floor next to him, folding your legs beneath you. Your eyes traced the familiar lines of his face, softened in sleep. He looked peaceful—vulnerable even, like he wasn’t the same man who’d disappeared for weeks without a word.
How many times have you told yourself not to expect more? That he wasn’t yours to keep. He was only yours in stolen moments—when the world outside didn’t exist, and it was just the two of you, tangled in each other. But those moments were fleeting, like a breath you couldn’t quite hold on to.
You sighed, brushing a loose strand of hair away from his forehead. “Damn you, Kim Mingyu.”
What if this time was different? What if, just once, he stayed? Hope was a dangerous thing. Every time you thought you were free from him, he pulled you back in, sometimes with nothing more than a look, a word, or the weight of his presence.
Mingyu stirred, his eyelids fluttering open slowly. His gaze found yours almost immediately, bleary but aware. For a long moment, neither of you said anything. You just looked at each other, the silence heavy with unsaid words, with everything you were too afraid to admit. The hurt. The longing. The quiet hope that maybe, just maybe, he wanted you as much as you wanted him.
His eyes lingered on your face, as if he was trying to read your thoughts. You felt exposed under his gaze, like he could see through the walls you’d built to protect yourself from him.
Then, without a word, he reached for you. His hand, warm and tentative, cupped the side of your face, and you leaned into his touch instinctively, closing your eyes for a second as your breath caught in your throat. When you opened them again, his gaze was intense, searching.
His lips brushed against yours, soft and familiar. Then, his grip on you tightened, and you found yourself sinking into him. For a few moments, it felt like nothing else mattered. The pain, the confusion, the nights spent wondering where he was—none of it existed here.
You knew this wasn’t safe. Letting him back in, letting him hold you, kiss you—it was a cycle you couldn’t break. But you didn’t pull away.
He guided you to the bed, his hands sliding over your skin with tenderness, as though he was afraid you’d slip away from him. You weren’t sure who needed who more in this moment—whether he was seeking comfort from you, or whether you were the one hoping he would stay, if only for a little longer. Maybe it didn’t matter.
Your clothes fell away slowly, piece by piece, until there was nothing left between you. His touch was familiar, yet it felt different somehow—softer, more cautious. You shivered as his lips trailed across your collarbone, your breath hitching in your throat.
He then lay on his back, guiding you to straddle him. You’d miss everything about him these past few weeks, but you didn’t know how much you longed for him until he was deep inside you. It hurt a little, but you didn’t falter, you just stayed there for a second, adjusting to the stretch that you hadn’t felt in a while.
Mingyu sat up, his hands supporting your back as he pressed his forehead against yours. “You okay?” he asked, his lips ghosting over your skin. You nodded, moving ever so slightly. Mingyu kissed the side of your head. “Good girl.”
You didn’t reply, too caught in the moment to think beyond the feeling of his hands on you, and his manhood inside you. Soon you were breathless on top of him, grinding rhythmically, back arching with each motion. His hands were as strong as they had always been, gripping your hips as he guided your movements. You did not contain your moans, knowing Mingyu preferred hearing them—that he loved hearing you.
Just as you were nearing release, Mingyu shifted your positions, pinning you underneath him. He stared into your eyes for a moment, caressing your cheek before he kissed your open mouth. And once again, he thrust into you. The room was filled with soft sounds—quiet breaths, gentle whispers of each other's names. Everything felt slow, like time had stretched out just for you two, giving you space to exist in this fleeting moment.
There was no rush, no frantic urgency. Just two people, tangled together in a slow, deliberate, and passionate sex driven not solely by lust but by something more powerful.
Love. You felt it in his every push, every kiss, and every touch. It was different this time. His hands lingered longer, his lips sought yours more often, and the way he whispered your name—it wasn’t just desire. It was more, and you felt it deep within your chest, like an ache that had finally found its release
And when it was over, you lay together, his arms wrapped around you, his heartbeat steady beneath your ear. You traced lazy circles on his chest, feeling the rise and fall of his breathing. His body was warm, his presence grounding you in a way that made you want to believe he could be yours.
“I love you,” he said suddenly, his voice quiet but clear.
You froze, your hand still on his chest as the words hung in the air. You weren’t sure if you’d heard him right. Slowly, you lifted your head to look at him, your heart hammering in your chest. “What did you say?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.
Mingyu’s eyes softened, a faint smile playing on his lips as he repeated the words that made your breath catch. “I said, I love you.”
Your heart swelled, but with it came a surge of doubt. Could you believe him? Could you trust these words from the same man who had vanished from your life without a second thought so many times before? It felt like standing on the edge of a cliff, one step away from free-falling into something that could either break you or save you.
You wanted to say it back. The words were on the tip of your tongue, but they felt too heavy, weighed down by all the times you’d convinced yourself that this moment would never come. Instead, you settled for leaning up and kissing him, slow and soft, your lips lingering against his. Maybe this kiss could say what you couldn’t. Maybe it could be enough to bridge the gap between hope and reality.
When you pulled back, you looked at him again, the uncertainty gnawing at your chest. “Do you really mean that?” you asked, your voice smaller than you intended. “Or are you just saying it because… because of what just happened?”
Mingyu’s eyes darkened with something unreadable. He reached up, cupping your cheek, his thumb brushing lightly against your skin. “I mean it,” he said, his voice rougher now, like the words were harder for him to say than he let on. “I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t.”
His eyes were heavy with exhaustion, but there was something else there too—something softer, more vulnerable. He didn’t say anything. He didn’t need to. You both knew what this was, even if neither of you was ready to admit it.
You pressed another kiss on his lips, your hand cupping his face. Maybe this time would be different. Maybe.
Or maybe not.
Seungcheol’s eyes stayed locked on you, you could see curiosity and concern written on his face. You just stared right back, keeping your lips tight.
“That’s it?” he asked, his voice soft, almost disbelieving.
You nodded. “That’s it.”
He blinked slowly, clearly not satisfied with your answer. He’d been so engrossed in the story that neither of you had noticed how late it had gotten.
“It can’t be,” he murmured. “What happened after?”
You let out a breath, shrugging as if it didn’t matter. “We talked. Well, fought, mostly. I asked him what he wanted—if he’d finally commit. In the end, he didn’t pick me. After everything, I thought he would. You know confessing his love and all that. But… meh.” You rolled your eyes. “That’s how it went.”
Seungcheol leaned in, his eyes narrowing. “So you walked away?”
“I don’t wanna go into details anymore, but yes I walked away with my dignity intact. I mean,” you paused to laugh. “I couldn’t keep letting him do that to me, could I? I had to stop it. I was better than that, though it took a while for me to finally grasp that fact and walk away.”
Seungcheol nodded slowly, but there was something unsatisfied in his expression. “Well, good for you. You deserve that. You deserve better.”
“I know,” you chuckled, but the laugh felt forced. “It’s funny, looking back. I acted so stupid for him. But I’m just glad it’s over now, you know? That chapter is closed.”
He tilted his head, his brow furrowed in thought. “That’s good. Although I dare say, your storytelling is a bit, I don’t know… anticlimactic?”
“Is it?” you asked like it wasn’t something you already felt too. You forced a shrug. “Maybe. But that’s how it went. Things kept circling back to the same pattern and this part is basically the same. There’s only so many times you can replay the same argument, you know? I just skipped it,” you added with a forced smirk, hoping it would distract him from prying any further.
Seungcheol observed you for a minute, and you wondered if he could see right through you. Seems impossible. He didn’t really know you until today, and you were a pretty decent liar.
“Right,” he said, his tone softening, though the doubt hadn’t entirely left his face. “What’s next then?”
You blinked. “Huh?”
“I mean, who’s next?” he clarified, leaning back in his chair. “Kim Mingyu is not the only guy you’d ever dated, is he?”
You let out a short laugh, but it was strained. “No, there were others. But it’s late, Mr. Choi. The lady needs her sleep.”
He shot to his feet, his face immediately contrite. “Ah, of course! I didn’t mean to keep you up.”
“I’m sure you didn’t. If you want to hear more, you can ask the front desk for me. Tomorrow’s my day-off so I have time. We can also discuss the fee you promised,” you said, smiling and then narrowing your eyes at him. “That is, if you haven’t forgotten about it.”
“I remember.” He smiled. “Good night then.”
“Thanks for listening,” you said with a small wave as you turned to head toward your room.
As you made your way back to your quarters, thoughts of Mingyu swirled in your mind. You’d lied to Seungcheol. The ending between you and Mingyu wasn’t anticlimactic at all. It had been messy, filled with bottled-up anger and days wallowing in misery. But you’d never admit that to Seungcheol. Sharing a failed romance with a stranger was one thing; baring the ugly truth of just how miserable and pathetic you felt back then? That was something else entirely.
At the time, you thought he’d finally let you in. He did, for a moment. Mingyu had opened up about the weight of familial expectations, how it crushed him to follow a path that wasn’t his. He talked about the people and dreams he had to leave behind. And he confessed that the reason he couldn’t choose you, after all this time, was that same fear—that one day, he’d have to turn his back on you too.
“You don’t have to,” you said, placing a hand on his arm. “I’ll be here. Wouldn’t it be easier if you had someone to rely on?”
He’d smiled at you then, a smile filled with gratitude and maybe something like love. “Thank you. I appreciate that.”
And so, you stayed. And Mingyu? He stayed the same—thoughtful, goofy, always consistent. Sometimes, he’d come to you in low spirits, and you’d let him lean on you in silence, even though he never fully shared his feelings. You fell deeper in love with him, slowly realizing that everything felt emptier, harder without him. You barely noticed time fly by, but you did notice that Mingyu no longer disappeared. He no longer detached himself from you. He was there all the time, even on days when he didn’t feel like himself.
Freshman year passed and you went up with him at his family’s estate to spend the break. He lived in a big house but his parents weren’t home the whole time you were there. It was nice to get a glimpse of his life, of the place he grew up in and the person he was before you met him. You spent time hanging out, making love, and being each other’s support system.
But despite how wonderful it was, despite the burning passion, the cloud of uncertainty loomed over you while you were there. The happiness you felt was so overwhelming, it scared you. It felt too good to be true, like the calm before an inevitable storm.
This storm would come earlier than either of you expected. And it came in the mail.
“What is it?” you asked, wrapping your arms around Mingyu’s seated figure. You tried to peek into the letter, but he put it away.
“Nothing important,” he replied, holding your arm and rubbing it as he looked up at you. He smiled at you and then pressed a soft kiss on your lips. “Where were you?”
You pointed at your head, wrapped in a towel. “In the bath,” you said, straightening up and walking toward the bed to undo your hair.
“You were gone for an hour.”
“Yeah. I was actually waiting for you to join me,” you said, not hiding your disappointment.
He groaned. “Oh, man. You should’ve told me.”
You grimaced. “No, you should’ve looked for me when you noticed I was gone.”
He tucked the envelope in the drawer before jumping in the bed with you. He pinned you down, making you squeal. Then he started peppering you with kisses all over your face. When he caught a whiff of your neck, his expression immediately shifted from goofy to naughty.
“I’d love to do it in the tub, but the bed isn’t such a bad idea too,” he lilted, undoing the ribbon of your robe.
“The bed is the best place to do it, dumbass.”
Mingyu hummed in satisfaction. “I love it when you talk dirty to me,” he said, making you laugh.
That afternoon was spent being one with each other too, like the previous ones. When you fell asleep, Mingyu was beside you, his head leaning on your chest while you play with his hair. But when you woke up, it was already dark and the spot where Mingyu laid was cold.
You pushed yourself upright, wrapping your robe around you as you padded across the room, calling out his name. “Mingyu?” The sound echoed back in the silence. You checked the bathroom, the living room—every corner of the house, each step feeling heavier than the last. No sign of him.
You tried his phone next, only to find it sitting on the nightstand. Thirty minutes passed, then an hour. Your calls for him became more frantic, though still unanswered. It was only when the housekeeper returned that she offered some explanation.
“He went out earlier, ma’am,” she said, smiling kindly. “He didn’t say where, but I’m sure he’ll be back soon. Mr. Mingyu would never leave you alone.”
Right, he wouldn’t. Yet that wasn’t reassuring at all. This housekeeper might have watched Mingyu grow up, even took care of him during those years, but she had no idea what Mingyu had put you through. Still, you wanted to believe in him.
The hours passed, and the next morning came. He hadn’t come home yet. You waited until the evening, and the following evening on the next day, and the next, and the next. Still no Mingyu. The house felt hollow without him, as though the walls themselves knew something was wrong.
It was on the fourth day, when your frustration turned to desperate curiosity, that you found the letter tucked away in the drawer of his desk. Your fingers trembled as you unfolded it—an acceptance letter to a university abroad.
He hadn’t mentioned this. Was he planning to leave? Had he already left?
You’d looked for him and asked everyone at his house for help but no one seemed to know where he went. They even had to contact his parents and you didn’t really expect them to know either, but it was frustrating to hear them say it.
“Have you checked his flat, ma’am?” the housekeeper asked.
You blinked. “I thought he moved out of his flat?”
The housekeeper shook his head. “No, ma’am. He’s been living here again, but that place in the city still belongs to him. Maybe he’s there?”
It wasn’t like him—not anymore. Ever since the two of you had gotten closer, you thought the days of him pulling away without warning were over. You had let yourself believe that, anyway. But now, you felt the creeping sense of something breaking, something final.
You commuted back to the city and went straight to his flat. You hated this feeling—the waiting, the uncertainty. It felt like standing on the edge of something crumbling beneath your feet.
And now here you were, in front of his door, heart pounding as you knocked. You didn’t expect him to answer. But, he did.
Mingyu stood there, looking disheveled, dark circles under his eyes like he hadn’t slept in days. The sight of him was both a relief and a frustration, all the hurt and confusion swirling inside you.
“We need to talk,” you said, pushing past him into the apartment before he could say anything.
He closed the door behind you but didn’t move. “I know,” he muttered, his voice hoarse.
You turned to face him, crossing your arms. “What’s going on, Mingyu? You disappeared. Again. After everything we talked about. After you said you didn’t want to keep doing this.”
He ran a hand through his messy hair, looking anywhere but at you. “I’m sorry,” he said, but there was no conviction in his voice.
“That’s it? That’s all you have to say?” Your voice cracked despite your efforts to keep it steady.
Mingyu finally looked at you, his expression torn, like he didn’t know how to put what he was feeling into words. “I don’t know… I needed time. I couldn’t—”
“You always need time, Mingyu,” you interrupted, your frustration boiling over. “You say you don’t want to do this alone, but then you push me away every chance you get. Do you even want me in your life?”
“I do! I’ve never wanted anything else! But I can’t… I—” he paused, running his fingers through his hair. “I can’t keep dragging you into this.”
“You’re not dragging me, Mingyu. I’m here to stay! But if we’re gonna keep having this… if you’re gonna keep doing this to me, then what’s the point?” you asked, the words heavy with your anger and frustration. “I’m sick of this, Mingyu. Aren’t you?”
His eyes widened, and you could see the conflict in him. But he didn’t answer. He didn’t say anything, and that silence hit you harder than anything else.
You swallowed the lump in your throat, taking a step closer to him. “If you don’t want me, just say it. Tell me to go, and I will. But if you want me to stay…” Your voice faltered as you searched his face, desperate for any sign. “Tell me to stay, Mingyu. Say it.”
For a long moment, the room was filled with nothing but the sound of your uneven breaths. You waited. He opened his mouth to speak, then closed it again.
“Mingyu, please…” you pleaded, holding back your tears. “Just say ‘don’t go,’ and I won’t,” you added, shaking your head.
Mingyu reached for your face, staring at you with tears in his eyes. Then he pressed his forehead against yours as he sobbed. “I’m sorry.”
Your heart sank, the answer clear even though he never spoke the words. You took a shaky breath, nodding to yourself. “Okay,” you whispered, wiping away a tear that rolled down your cheek. “I get it.”
You backed away and then turned toward the door, your chest aching with every step you took. But before you could reach the handle, you stopped, glancing back one last time, hoping—praying—that he would say something, anything, to stop you.
But Mingyu stayed silent. And with that, you walked out with finality in your stride.
To say you were a mess after that was an understatement. You were a wreck—miserable and sad, wandering through the days like a ghost of your former self. You ran to your friends, crying in their arms for hours, the kind of raw, gut-wrenching sobs that left you breathless. You thought you’d only cry about it for a few days and get over it. But it went on for a whole month.
Some nights, after too many drinks, you’d find yourself dialing his number, the alcohol loosening the grip of reason in your mind. “Mingyuuuu,” you’d whine into the phone, your voice slurred and pathetic. “I love you so much! Take me back!”
The next morning, you’d wake up to the shame of your drunken confessions, staring at the ceiling with the weight of regret pressing down on you. You’d replay the conversations in your mind, cringing at how desperate you sounded, wondering how you let yourself fall apart so completely.
Your friends did their best to pull you out of the darkness, but every attempt felt futile. You’d join them for outings, but you were barely present, laughing too loudly at jokes that didn’t register or staring blankly at the world around you. One night, they dragged you to a party, insisting you needed to have fun. But there you were, clinging to your drink, watching everyone dance and laugh, while the memories of Mingyu spun in your mind. Once the reality set in that he was no longer there to ditch the party with you, you stumbled to the bathroom and locked yourself in, sobbing into your hands as the beat thudded through the walls.
Even the simplest tasks became challenges. Your studies slipped away; assignments piled up, and your grades plummeted. You’d sit in your lectures, staring at the board but absorbing nothing. Friends would express their concern, but you brushed it off with a half-hearted smile, not wanting to burden them any more than you already had.
Eventually, you hit a breaking point. On one particularly dark day, you sat alone in your room, surrounded by empty cans and bottles and crumpled tissues. The realization hit you like a freight train: you couldn’t do this anymore. You weren’t just grieving—you were drowning.
In the haze of your despair, you made the impulsive decision to skip the semester and move back home with your family. The thought of facing another day in the city without Mingyu felt unbearable. Packing your things felt like burying a part of yourself, but it was your only option. Every corner of your apartment did nothing to help your move on anyway.
You took one last look of the place where you made the most memories with Mingyu. And as you closed the door, you hoped it would also close that chapter in your life.
Your parents welcomed you with open arms, concerned and confused by your sudden return. You pretended everything was fine, but they noticed the shadows under your eyes, the way you flinched at the slightest mention of your time at university.
In the quiet of your old room, you often found yourself staring at the ceramic bears on your nightstand, remembering the small joy of building a family for these inanimate decors. Your friends tried to reach out, but you brushed them aside, too ashamed to admit how far you had fallen. They understood, giving you the time and space that you needed, knowing you'd be back once things were all better.
And as the weeks passed, something began to shift. The sun shone a little brighter, and the weight of your grief slowly lightened. You spent time with your family, rediscovering old hobbies and connecting with friends who reminded you of who you were before Mingyu. Slowly, you started to feel like yourself again. You laughed more, shared stories, and realized that life still held moments of joy, even in the absence of him.
One day, while cleaning your room, your eyes caught your little bear family, focusing on the grizzly and panda Mingyu had gifted you. Their faces seemed more cheerful now and you felt a bittersweet pang in your chest.
Where could Mingyu be right now? How is he? You had no idea, but you wished he was in a better place than before. Somehow, you wish you could at least extend a hand to comfort him, even as a distant friend.
Then an idea came. You picked up the grizzly and the panda, memories flooding back—of laughter, of warmth, of love. But you knew that holding onto them was holding you back. And right now, you didn’t really need them anymore.
You wrapped the figurines carefully in bubble wrap and wrote a short note:
“I’m sending these with a happy heart and I hope that instead of bitterness and sorrow, they will bring a smile to your face, just like they did when we first met them. Thank you for the memories. Know that I do not regret meeting you, and if I had to do it again, I would. Although, maybe I’d make better decisions then. You’ll always have a space in my heart, Gyu. I hope you’re in a better place—both in your heart and mind. Love, me <3”
As you dropped the package off at the post office, you felt lighter, liberated. The storm that had raged within you had dissipated, replaced by the gentle promise of new beginnings. You smiled to yourself, knowing that while the past would always be a part of you, it no longer defined you. You were ready to embrace whatever came next. You’re young, you have a whole life ahead of you.
And if you happen to run into Mingyu again in the future, you hope he will be in better circumstances. Whatever he was going through, you wished he’d get over it and be genuinely happy.
[fin]
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i screamed when mingyu appeared like AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH. too little of him i want MOREE! but i understand that the story was not about him so that's totally fine. i am content just knowing he's doing better. cal ilysm you did a great job on this one huhu
thanks a lot. i love praise, keep it coming (jk)
anyway, gotta let them know Mingyu is still alive and kicking in this au. Plot Twist next! It will be the last one in the series. Can you believe it? Huhuhu I put my Halloween fic on hold for this because I'm invested!!!
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she's done it again. making my heart flutter and shid ASJJSAKLSKLADJ :>
so real about vernon tho, there is not enough of him on here likeeee WHY NOT???
Did You Like Her in the Morning? | c.vn (18+)
How do you move on from the man you thought you'd marry? You can't. As you navigate the bittersweet memories of your shared dreams, you are forced to grapple with the harsh reality that Vernon has found someone new.
one | two | three | four | five
Genre: strangers to lovers (to exes), smut Pairing: Chwe Vernon x afab!Reader Warnings: angstyyy, mature themes, explicit sexual content (18+), cheating!!! Notes: 27k words. Part 4 of the Heartbreak Hotel series, but it can be read as a standalone fic. Listening to Did You Like Her in the Morning by NIKI. This was too long and I tried to cut it down but I couldn't leave anything out lol. ENJOY~~ Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. I do not know them personally and do not claim they would ever behave like they were portrayed in this story.
Playlist: Did You Like Her in the Morning by NIKI, champagne problems by Taylor Swift, Fine by Taeyeon, His Car Isn't Yours by Wendy ,
“What are you making?” you heard Vernon’s familiar voice behind you as his arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you into the warmth of his embrace. He pressed a soft kiss on your cheek, and you leaned back into him.
“Eggs,” you replied, smiling as you rolled the omelet in the pan.
Vernon hummed, nuzzling his nose against your neck, sending a shiver up your spine. “I love eggs.”
“Good,” you chuckled, basking in the gentle intimacy. “Because that's all we have. We need groceries.”
“Then let's go together later,” he murmured, turning you to face him.
You smiled at the sight of your boyfriend, handsome in the morning light filtering through the windows of your shared apartment. There were remnants of sleep in his half-lidded eyes and messy locks of brown hair. His lopsided smile was something you’d grown familiar with but still couldn’t get enough of. He was beautiful in a way that made your chest tighten with love and disbelief.
You lifted the spatula, careful not to graze his neck as you wrapped your arms around his neck. Tiptoeing, you pressed a brief but tender kiss to his lips. “Did you sleep well?”
“The best sleep I’ve had in days,” he murmured, his voice low as he brushed a stray strand of hair behind your ear. His hand lingered on your cheek, thumb tracing the outline of your jaw. “Thanks to you.”
You rolled your eyes, though the warmth in your chest spread. “You’re welcome,” you teased, “but go set the table. Let’s eat breakfast before we leave for work.”
He grinned, but instead of pulling away, he tugged you closer. “Breakfast is good, yes, but…” He paused, one hand traveling down the length of your spine and stopping at your backside. He cupped it with his hand, squeezing ever so gently as he pressed his lips on your ear. “There’s someone else I wanna eat.”
A soft laugh escaped you. “Now, now,” you said calmly, putting your hands on his chest and pushing him back slightly. “Food first.”
You turned back to the stove, turned it off, and put the rolled omelet on a plate. Vernon followed behind you, unable to keep his hands to himself as he tried to touch you everywhere while trailing kisses on your neck and jaw.
“Nonie,” you chided softly, though your body was doing something else entirely—tilting your head to the side so he could nip at your neck with ease. You let out a soft sigh—warmth and goosebumps spreading through you when he sucked on your skin.
“I love you so much,” he whispered, hand cupping your breast as he ravished your neck again.
Then, without warning, the world shifted. The comforting scent of eggs and the morning light faded. Your eyes fluttered open, and instead of Vernon’s embrace, you were met with the cold, dull gray of the ceiling above you. The room was deafeningly quiet save for the faint hum of the air-conditioning cutting through the silence.
You opened your mouth to breathe, eyes darting around the room as you tried to transition out of your dream and back into the dreary reality of your present. The faint ache in your chest grew sharper as you slowly sat up, pressing the heel of your hand to your temple, trying to shake away the dream—no, the memory that you thought would not visit you again until today.
On your nightstand, your alarm clock was glowing, highlighting bright red numbers, 9:30 pm. “Fuck this,” you muttered to yourself, rubbing your hands over your face.
In need of fresh air, you stepped out of your quarters and trekked the quiet hallways of the hotel, heavy thoughts weighing on your chest. Walking without a set direction brought you to the hotel bar, where the low murmur of conversations and the clinking of glasses provided a welcome intrusion to your scattered thoughts. Your eyes scanned the room, landing on Seungcheol, nursing a drink alone at the bar.
Sighing, you crossed your arms over your chest, leaning on the entryway as you watched him curiously. This enigmatic stranger came to your hotel seeking services in the form of storytelling. When you think about it, it was a strange request, asking a stranger to share anecdotes of her past relationships and why they failed. But now that you were watching him from this distance, with his eyes locked on his glass seemingly lost in his thoughts, maybe it wasn’t a strange request after all. Maybe, behind the enigma that is Choi Seungcheol, was a lonely man trying to make sense of the things that had caused his own relationship to fail.
“Whatever,” you muttered, walking straight toward him.
He looked up as you approached, surprise and relief washing over his face. “Good evening.”
You nodded, sliding onto the stool beside him. “Mind if I join you?”
“Please do.” He gestured to the bartender for another drink. “Your company is most welcome.”
You took a moment, watching the bartender pour your drink and push it toward you. Then for a second, you stared at it, swirling the contents of your glass. “How do you move on from the person you thought you were gonna spend the rest of your life with?”
Seungcheol raised an eyebrow, a playful grin tugging at his lips. “Is this another story? I’m all ears.”
You took a sip of your drink, the spice lining your throat and leaving a bitter aftertaste on your tongue. “Alright then. Tonight, I’ll tell you about Vernon Chwe.”
“The one that got away?” he asked, leaning in with curiosity.
“Something like that,” you replied, your mind drifting back to memories that felt so fresh, that one would think it all happened yesterday.
Blind dating was a game of hit or miss. At least, that’s what you believed. When Mina set you up with her friend’s friend, you’d expected it to be just like any other blind date—awkward, forced, and uncomfortable, not that you’d been in one before. This was your first, and you almost didn’t show up if not for Mina’s insistence that you only need to do it this once then she wouldn’t bother you again if you ended up disliking the whole thing.
With lowered expectations, you walked into the restaurant, bracing yourself for nothing more than polite small talk between two people who didn’t want to be there. You weren't expecting much—a brief chat, maybe a rushed cup of coffee, and then an awkward goodbye.
The cafe staff pointed you to his table and you approached carefully, studying the back of his head.
“Mr. Vernon Chwe?” you prompted politely, peeking slightly at his face.
He glanced up at you and you were momentarily caught off-guard by the gorgeous pair of light brown eyes. His appearance alone was already surpassing your expectations by miles.
“Yes, hi!” he greeted, standing up at once and offering his hand for a shake. He said your name and it rolled off his tongue effortlessly, as if he had practiced it. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
He was well-dressed in a neat white shirt and a light brown button-down, the sleeves rolled just enough to look casual but put together. His hair—neatly styled yet effortlessly tousled—framed his face perfectly. And that face? Sculpted, handsome, with sharp features softened by a warm, welcoming smile.
“The pleasure’s mine,” you replied.
When he moved to pull out your chair, it didn’t feel forced or like he was 'trying too hard.' His gestures were smooth and respectful, like second nature. You blinked, trying to keep your surprise in check as you took the seat he offered.
“Thank you,” you said, setting your purse aside as he sat across from you, his movements just as easy, just as considerate.
“How was the commute? I hope it wasn’t too far for you,” he began, right as the waitress handed you menus.
“Oh, no, not at all,” you said, smiling. “I actually walked here. I live nearby.”
“That’s a relief,” he replied, his tone sincere, as if your comfort genuinely mattered to him. You were struck not only by his appearance but by how well-spoken he was. His voice was steady, polite, and confident without a trace of arrogance.
After you both placed your orders, there was a pause. But it wasn’t the dreaded awkward silence you had imagined. Vernon didn’t rush to fill the space with idle chatter. He simply sat there, watching you with attentive eyes, as though he had all the time in the world. You noticed then how carefully he observed you—his gaze steady but not overbearing, his expression open and genuinely curious.
You nodded, feeling more at ease than you expected. “Yeah, I do. And you’re in… software development, right?”
“That’s right,” he confirmed, leaning back in his chair. “But I promise I won’t bore you with tech talk.”
His playful smile made you laugh softly, and the ease with which the conversation flowed caught you off guard. It was seamless. No awkward pauses, no forced topics. And Vernon wasn’t just polite—he was thoughtful. He asked questions about your life, your interests, your thoughts on books and movies. And he listened, really listened, like every word you said was worth considering. Every now and then, he’d tilt his head slightly, his smile never far from his lips and his attention never wavering.
Time passed quicker than you realized. The conversation was so comfortable, so engaging, that it wasn’t until your phone buzzed that you noticed the hour.
“Oh no,” you murmured, frowning at the time. “I’d love to stay longer, but I have work tomorrow.”
“I understand,” Vernon replied, smiling warmly. “It’s getting late anyway. Shall we head out?”
He offered to walk you home, and you didn’t hesitate to accept. The night was cool, the air crisp as the two of you strolled through the quiet streets. You kept chatting until you reached your apartment complex. You couldn’t help but linger just a little longer under the streetlights, hoping time would stretch on and you could spend more time together.
“I had a really great time tonight,” you admitted, slightly embarrassed by how much you meant it.
“I’m glad,” Vernon replied, turning to face you. His eyes sparkled under the light, and for a second, you forgot where you were. “I’d love to do this again if you’d allow it.”
You paused, not because you were unsure, but because it felt almost too good to be true. You hadn’t expected this. Not from a blind date. And yet, here you were, standing in front of your apartment, feeling something stir in your chest that hadn’t been there at the start of the evening.
“Yeah,” you answered, a genuine smile tugging at your lips. “I’d like that.”
His smile widened, and there it was again—that effortless charm. Everything about him—from the way he carried himself to the way he spoke—felt disarmingly natural. His manners, his attentiveness, his respect for your space, all of it was impeccable. This was a man who knew how to make someone feel seen and heard. It was almost unsettling how easily you connected with him.
Before parting ways, he took a step closer, his hand brushing gently against your arm in the most careful, respectful way. “Goodnight,” he said, his voice low.
“Goodnight, Vernon,” you whispered.
And just like that, Vernon Chwe became someone you couldn’t stop thinking about. The blind date you thought would be awkward and forgettable had turned into the beginning of something promising.
“Tell me everything!” Mina gushed when she Facetimed you the next day. “Don’t skip a detail. What happened?”
“Aren’t you too energetic for a Monday morning?” you teased, patting moisturizer into your skin.
“Paul said Vernon kept talking about you after the date. Does that mean it went well?”
You smiled, remembering last night, and Mina caught on immediately. She clapped her hands. “It did! Oh my God! How was it?”
“It was great,” you replied, trying to sound casual but failing because you couldn’t stop smiling. “Vernon was... really great. He was nice, polite, funny—and he’s handsome too.”
You told her about the date while getting ready for work, and by the end of the call, Mina was patting herself on the back for setting you up. You laughed it off, but inwardly, you were grateful. She had insisted on this blind date, and now, well… things were looking good.
Later, at work, you greeted your coworkers cheerfully before settling in at your desk. It was going to be another mundane day of taking reservations and answering guest queries, but today felt different. The thought of Vernon had put a little extra bounce in your step.
“You look happy,” asked Sally, a coworker and a friend. “Date went well, I take it?”
“It went amazing, Sal. Don’t be surprised when I get a boyfriend in the next few weeks,” you chimed, lifting your shoulders with pride.
Sally sighed, leaning her elbow on the back of your chair. “Guess I’ll be eating my dinners alone from now on.”
“I hope not,” you chuckled. “And let’s not count our chickens before they hatch. We still have a long way to go.”
“You’re the one who’s talking about having a boyfriend!” she chided playfully, nudging your shoulder. As she walked away, the phone rang, so you took it to your ear.
“Diamond Hotel, how may I help you today?” you asked with practiced ease.
“Hi, is this…” The man on the line said your name.
“Yes, this is she. How can I assist you?”
“I’m calling to reserve a table at the Diamond Hotel Restaurant.”
You started typing away, already processing his request. “Can I have your name for the reservation? And when would you like it?”
“It’s uh… Vernon Chwe.”
You paused, fingers hovering over the keys as you wondered if you’d heard him right. “Vernon Chwe?” you repeated, heart racing at just the mention of his name.
“Yes,” he answered, and you could practically hear the smile in his voice. “I’m booking a table for two, but only if my date agrees to dinner on Friday night.”
He has a date? You pondered, a sudden pang of disappointment hitting you. That was quite unexpected. You just went on a date with him last night and you thought it had gone well. Now he has another date?
You chased your thoughts away, maintaining a professional tone when you said, “I’m sure she’d love to if you asked nicely, Mr. Chwe. The hotel restaurant has an impeccable menu.”
“You think so?” Vernon asked, sounding curious.
“Absolutely.”
“What’s your favorite off the menu?”
You hummed thoughtfully, pulling up the list of recommendations on your computer. “There are a few things I can recommend, but I’d suggest you check out the Menu of the Day once you get there.”
“I see, but I need to know your favorite so I can remember to order it for you.”
Ah, now you got it. You smiled, glancing around to see if anyone was listening. “Mr. Chwe, shouldn’t you ask your date first if she’s available Friday night?”
“Well, are you available Friday night?”
“Maybe,” you chimed.
Came Friday night, you met him outside your workplace, told him you canceled his reservation, and asked him to take you elsewhere.
“I lied about the hotel menu,” you said as soon as you approached him. “All fancy stuff, nothing that’s actually good. Let’s go somewhere else.”
Vernon laughed at your admission, throwing his head back as he casually offered his arm for you to hold onto. “So? Where should we go then?”
“Actually, I’m not sure,” you replied, sliding your hand around his elbow before you started walking down the sidewalk. “I know a place just around the block. Their fajitas are to die for.”
“Alright, then. Lead the way.”
Without thinking much about it, Friday nights became your thing. Vernon would pick you up after work, his car always parked at the same spot by the entrance, and from there, you’d go from one spot to another, trying different foods and discovering new places together. At first, he insisted on taking you to posh restaurants—decent places with cloth napkins and polished silverware. It was sweet, but you could tell he was trying a bit too hard and you didn’t want him to do that—especially considering the startup company that he had just launched with his friend.
One night, after yet another fancy dinner, you decided it was time for a change. You took him to a small, family-owned burger joint tucked between two larger chain restaurants. It was far from glamorous, but it had character—and, as you both agreed, the best fries in the city.
“See?” you said, grinning triumphantly as you dipped another fry into ketchup. “Hidden gem.”
Vernon chuckled, leaning back in his chair with a satisfied expression. “I guess I should’ve let you pick the places from the start.”
“It’s a perk that comes with working in the hospitality industry. You get to know where the best places in the city are,” you replied with mock arrogance, making him laugh again.
You watched him for a bit, taking in his easy demeanor and the slight flush on his cheek caused by laughing. He took some fries, dipped them in the sauce, and ate with gusto.
“I like this better than seared salmon. What do you think?” you asked.
Vernon glanced over, his eyebrow quirking in surprise. He seemed to understand what you were trying to imply. “Are you sure? I thought… well, I wanted to take you somewhere nice.”
“I know, I appreciate it. But I think our time and money would be better spent on food we would genuinely enjoy. Don’t you?”
He laughed, and the sound was easy and light. “I think so too.”
And from that night on, things became better. Your dates grew simpler—more relaxed and spontaneous. You spent Friday nights strolling along city streets, your hands full of fast food bags instead of wine glasses.
The pressure of formality faded, replaced by easy conversation and laughter that came naturally between bites of burgers or slices of pizza. You didn’t feel like you were trying to impress each other anymore. Instead, you were just getting to know each other—two people enjoying each other's company, no pretense, no expectations.
“You have ketchup on your chin,” Vernon pointed out one night, his eyes glinting with amusement as you wiped at your face, missing the spot completely.
“Where?” you asked, wiping again, only to have him shake his head.
“Here,” he said softly, reaching across the table to gently swipe it away with his thumb. The gesture was so natural, so intimate, that it made your heart skip a beat.
“What’s going on? Are we filming a movie or something?” you asked—an obvious attempt to defuse the growing tension between you.
“Yeah, and you’re a bad actress,” he retorted, grinning.
“Do you wanna know why?” you asked, cocking an eyebrow playfully. “It’s because God thought it wouldn’t be fair to other people if He had given me talents in acting and performing. I’d be unstoppable as a celebrity and He knew it. He had to draw the line somehow.”
You had expected him to roll his eyes, but Vernon chuckled heartily, scrunching his nose with what looked like cuteness aggression. “God made you so adorable too.”
You simply shrugged, as if to take the compliment nonchalantly despite the giddiness you were feeling inside. “Born this way. What can I do?”
You used to look forward to Fridays because it marked the start of the weekend when you needed not to go to work. Now, Fridays came with a different kind of anticipation—the kind that came in the size of a Vernon Chwe. Your ‘dates’ weren’t just dates anymore; they were a ritual, a habit, a comfort.
You got to know each other better this way, sharing dreams and aspirations. You told him how you were on the lookout for an opportunity to write, and he talked about his startup—how it was both exciting and exhausting to build something from the ground up. You listened intently, watching as he animatedly explained the challenges he face.
“I didn’t realize how much work it would be,” he admitted, taking a bite of his burger. “Some days, it feels like I’m making progress, but other days… I don’t know. It’s like I’m just treading water.”
“You’ll get there,” you said, offering him an encouraging smile. “I mean, Mark Zuckerberg’s Facebook didn’t become a billion-dollar enterprise overnight, did it?”
Vernon glanced at you, his expression softening. “Thanks. That is oddly reassuring.”
You felt a warmth spread through you at his words. He hadn’t said it outright, but there was a growing closeness between the two of you—a connection that went beyond the casual dates and easy conversations. It was in the way he looked at you, the way he listened to your every word, and how he valued your words like you were an important person in his life.
Bit by bit, these Friday nights were becoming something deeper. And as you sat there with him, sharing burgers and laughter, you couldn’t help but think that maybe, you’d found something you wanted to hold onto.
The more you got to know Vernon, the easier it became for him to bring you into his world. The first time you really saw him in his element was when he invited you to a tech convention as his plus-one. You hadn’t known what to expect—just a room full of serious people talking about things that flew over your head. Tech enthusiasts passionately discussing the future, engineers excitedly showcasing innovations, and the occasional investor looking polished and reserved—it was a melting pot of people who were said to be at the very core of humanity’s technological advancement.
“Come meet my business partner,” Vernon prompted, pulling your attention from the crowd.
You followed him to a table where a small group of people stood chatting. Vernon tapped a man on the shoulder, who turned around immediately.
“Vernon! Finally. Where have you been?” the man asked, raising an eyebrow at him.
“Sorry, man. Traffic was brutal,” Vernon replied. “This is my friend, Boo Seungkwan. We founded the company together.”
Seungkwan gave you a grin, his eyes glinting with humor. “Nice to finally meet you, though I heard nothing about you. He’s been keeping you a secret, something about not jinxing it, whatever that meant.”
You smiled. “That’s fine. I’ve heard plenty about you.”
“Oh, really?” Seungkwan leaned in, lowering his voice playfully. “Did he tell you I’m insufferable and run the place like a dictator?”
You laughed. “No, actually. He said you’re the best at managing the company’s money and keeping things together.”
Vernon shot Seungkwan a look. “See? No badmouthing.”
Seungkwan scoffed, turning back to you. “Give it time. Once you two get close enough, he’ll spill all my secrets,” he ranted jokingly, making you chuckle.
Watching Vernon in this environment where he clearly belonged made you realize how seamlessly he could move between these worlds—his professional world and the easy, laid-back version of himself you’d grown close to. While he was deeply immersed in this world, always kept an eye on you. Even in the middle of a conversation, he’d look over, checking in without saying a word.
As you settled into the flow of the event, Vernon was suddenly called up to the stage to present their latest project. He leaned in before leaving, his voice soft in your ear. “I’ll be back soon. Wish me luck.”
You smiled, giving his arm a squeeze. “Good luck!”
He flashed a quick smile before making his way to the stage. You watched as he stepped up to the podium, transforming from the Vernon you spent casual Friday nights with to the CEO Vernon Chwe—confident, composed, and incredibly eloquent.
“Good evening, everyone,” he began, his voice steady as he launched into his presentation. He spoke with passion, seamlessly balancing technical jargon with approachable explanations and engaging everyone in the room.
He looked different up there. Not in a way that made you feel distant from him, but in a way that made you see him in a new light. He wasn’t just the guy who made you laugh over greasy burgers. Up there, he was someone who commanded respect and attention—a leader, fully in control of his domain. His intelligence shone through in every word, and you couldn’t help but feel proud.
When he clicked through the last slide, the room burst into applause. Vernon gave a modest bow and stepped down from the stage, his eyes scanning the crowd until they found yours. He smiled—this time, not the professional smile he gave to the audience, but one meant just for you.
Seungkwan elbowed you lightly, leaning over to whisper, “He’s impressive, isn’t he?”
You nodded, unable to look away from Vernon as he approached. “Yeah,” you murmured. “Really impressive.”
As he reached you, Vernon sighed in relief. He glanced at Seungkwan and you. “How’d I do?”
“You were amazing,” you said, your voice soft but sincere. “You looked so cool up there.”
“Yeah, so cool. You totally sold it. Investors are gonna—oh! Here comes one now.” Seungkwan walked up to meet the man approaching your circle.
You both watched him for a bit as he engaged in a serious discussion with the man. Vernon’s touch on your elbow shifted your attention to him.
“I’m hungry. Do you wanna get out of here?” he asked, eyes gleaming with mischief.
“Don’t you need to talk to these people?”
He shrugged. “Seungkwan will take care of it. He’s better at conversing with these people than I am.”
“You sure he won’t mind?”
“Totally,” he replied, taking your hand in his. “Let’s go.”
Vernon took you to a Mexican restaurant where you stuffed your faces with food and talked about anything and everything. After that, he said he’d show you to their office, and snuck you there in the middle of the night.
“This feels illegal,” you told him as he led you through the dim hallways.
“Well, technically, it is. Seungkwan is pretty strict about workplace conduct, so no girlfriends in the building, and especially not in the middle of the night like this.”
“I didn’t know I was a girlfriend already,” you teased, raising an eyebrow.
Vernon’s eyes widened as he stammered, “No, I don’t mean— I meant girlfriends in general, not just my girlfriend specifically. What I meant was if an employee or someone in the company had a girlfriend—or boyfriend—they’re not allowed to bring them here to, you know, hang out or whatever it is that people in relationships do.”
You smirked, enjoying how flustered he had become. “You know, you were really attractive when you were talking earlier. All eloquent and smart. I didn’t think you could ever stutter like this.”
He gave you a sheepish grin, rubbing the back of his neck. “Is that bad? Did I ruin my ‘cool’ persona?”
“Not at all,” you replied, your voice softening. “Quite the opposite. You’re cute.”
He laughed, though it was soft, nervous even. “Thanks, I guess?”
You stood together in front of the sleek glass doors of their office building, and Vernon swiped his keycard to let you in. The lights inside were dimmed, casting a soft glow over the open-concept workspace. It felt intimate, like you were stepping into a new part of Vernon’s life.
“I swear, this place is usually more lively during the day,” Vernon murmured, his voice low as if he didn’t want to disturb the quiet.
“I can tell,” you replied, eyeing the desks. There weren’t that many of them, just about a handful. The office was just large enough for less than ten employees, and you could tell they were in the earliest days of establishment.
You stopped in front of a glass-walled office room, a small one with a desk at the center and a nameplate with Vernon’s name on it. “Is this the CEO’s office?” you teased, stepping inside and running your fingers along the edge of the desk.
“Something like that,” he replied, leaning against the doorframe, watching you. His eyes were darker now, his posture more relaxed, but there was a certain intensity in the way he looked at you. “This is where Seungkwan bosses me around, and I pretend I know what I’m doing.”
“You seemed pretty convincing earlier during the presentation,” you teased. “All eloquent and smart. I didn’t expect to see you in full business mode.”
He grinned. “You liked that, huh?”
You turned to him, taking a deep breath. “It was impressive, yes,” you began, voice soft. “And I have to admit, I did want to see your office but not in the middle of the night. It feels a like we’re breaking the rules.”
Vernon chuckled, pushing off the doorframe and walking toward you, hands shoved casually into his pockets. “I did say we were breaking a rule,” he said, his tone lighter. “But, for the record, I think Seungkwan would make an exception for you.”
You smirked, holding his gaze. “Would he?”
“I mean, I would,” he said, the words coming out more confident than before. He was close now, standing just a step away. “I’d definitely make an exception for you.”
There it was. The shift. The air around you seemed to hum, like the tension had finally caught up with you both. You could feel it, the way your heart started beating faster, the way Vernon’s eyes flickered between yours and your lips.
“That’s because you want to sweep me off my feet. Seungkwan doesn’t like me like that,” you teased, keeping a lighthearted tone and pressing an index finger on his chest.
He held your hand and kept it there. “Well? Am I good at sweeping you off your feet?”
“Well, you’re…” you paused, keeping your eyes locked with his as the space between you grew smaller and smaller. “...adorable.”
“Adorable, huh?” he murmured, his voice lower now, rougher around the edges. He seemed less concerned with the conversation and more focused on whatever was happening between you.
His hand came up, almost tentative, fingers brushing against the side of your face as he tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “You’re making it really hard to follow the rules right now,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.
Your heart raced at the closeness. “Maybe we don’t need to follow them tonight,” you replied, lips quirking into a small, daring smile.
Vernon smiled back. “I’ve never been good at following rules anyway,” he murmured, his thumb lingering just at the side of your face, his touch barely there but enough to send ripples of warmth through you.
You didn’t say anything, but you didn’t need to. Instead, you closed the space between you, rising on your toes just slightly, enough for your lips to meet his in a soft, lingering kiss. It wasn’t rushed or frantic—it was deliberate, the kind of kiss that had been building for weeks. Vernon responded in kind, his hand moving to cup the back of your head as he deepened the kiss. There was something sweet in the way he kissed you, something gentle that made your heart flutter, but there was also an undeniable heat—like he had been waiting for this moment as long as you had.
When you finally pulled away, both of you were a little breathless. “Okay,” you whispered, meeting his gaze with a teasing grin on your lips. “Now I can definitely say you’re adorable and hot.”
He laughed warmly. “You’re gonna be the death of me.”
“Did you sleep with him?” Mina’s voice rang out, loud and direct through your phone. You hurried to cover the screen, as if that could somehow muffle her.
“No, I didn’t!” you hissed back, your tone sharp enough to scold. “We just talked, and then he took me home. That’s it.”
“Why not?” Mina pressed, not letting it go.
You leaned back in your chair, arms crossing defensively. “I don’t know. He just… stopped halfway. Then he said he’d take me home. I think he wasn’t ready to go there yet, and honestly, I was fine with that. I don’t want this to be a one-time thing.”
“Girl, even if you had hooked up, there’s no way this would be a one-off. You’re way past that.”
“Right?” you agreed, thinking it over. “I thought so too. But I kinda liked that he didn’t push for more. His actions told me he wants to take things seriously with me, don’t you think?”
“Totally,” Mina said, her voice buzzing with excitement. “Oh my god, I really like this Vernon guy for you.”
You couldn’t help but giggle at her enthusiasm. “I like him too. Thanks for setting us up.”
Mina made a smug sound, clearly pleased with herself. “You’re welcome. Now go make him fall madly in love with you, okay?”
You laughed, but as you ended the call, Mina’s words echoed in your mind. You hadn’t realized it until now, but you were falling for Vernon—slowly, deeply, and in a way that felt entirely different from anyone before him.
And you continued falling for him—with every Friday night spent together, with every late-night conversation when his deep voice lulled you to sleep, and with every weekend spent exploring new places and activities he thoughtfully picked out. Each moment felt more intimate than the last, a slow and steady unraveling of who you were together, effortlessly comfortable yet thrilling in its own way.
You noticed the little things that made him, well, him—his mannerisms, the politeness in his tone even when he was talking casually, his little thoughtful gestures, how he could somehow always remember exactly how you liked your coffee, or how he always made sure you were walking on the safe side of the sidewalk. These were the things that made your heart feel full, as if the entire world narrowed down to just the two of you when you were together.
One weekend, he asked if you wanted to see a movie with him—a break from your usual routine. It was one of those perfect days where everything just seemed to fall into place. The air was cool but not too cold, the traffic lights turned green just as you approached, there was barely a line at the cinema, and you got the best seats in the house. Even your popcorn tasted better than usual.
You watched the movie quietly. Every now and then, you felt Vernon’s eyes flick toward you. Whenever you caught him staring, he’d look away, only to glance back a moment later. He seemed... nervous.
Halfway through an intense scene, where the protagonist was inches away from confronting the villain, Vernon leaned in, gently tugging your elbow.
��Can I ask you something?” he whispered, his voice barely audible under the suspenseful music.
You blinked, startled by the interruption. “Now?”
He nodded, his smile almost sheepish. “Yeah, now.” You leaned closer, expecting him to comment on the movie or make a joke but instead, he took a deep breath.
“Will you be my girlfriend?”
For a moment, you thought you’d misheard him. In the middle of a suspense movie, with the protagonist literally facing life-or-death stakes, Vernon had just asked you to be his girlfriend. You had to stifle a laugh, quickly covering your mouth to avoid disturbing the other moviegoers.
“Are you serious?” you whispered back, your eyes wide with amusement.
He nodded, his grin growing wider, though his nervousness was still apparent. “I know. I know, the timing’s weird. But I’ve been thinking about it all day, and I just couldn’t wait anymore. I wanted to ask you now. Here. I don’t know why… I just—”
You could see the sincerity in his eyes, the way he was practically holding his breath, waiting for your answer. The softness of his confession, paired with the ridiculousness of the setting, made your heart swell. It was so him—earnest, sweet, and dorky all at once.
You smiled, warmth flooding through you. “Of course, I’ll be your girlfriend. But you know this is the worst possible time to ask, right?”
Relief washed over his face, and he chuckled softly, clearly flustered. “Yeah, I kind of panicked.”
“If I had known you were gonna do this, I would’ve picked a rom-com,” you teased.
Vernon grinned, his hand slipping into yours. “It would make a funny ‘How Your Mom and I Got Together’ story though, don’t you think?” he whispered back, eyes twinkling with that familiar Vernon charm.
You rolled your eyes playfully, leaning your head on his shoulder. “You’re such a dork,” you whispered, your words filled with affection. And as the suspenseful music swelled around you, you couldn’t help but think that this out-of-place, spontaneous confession was exactly the kind of memory you wanted to hold onto.
And so you’d officially become his girlfriend, and even though nothing really changed in the way he treated you—still sweet, still thoughtful—it felt different in the best way. Everything felt a little lighter, like you were walking on cloud nine.
The next morning, you woke up with an inexplicable giddiness bubbling inside you. Vernon texted you good morning with a picture of his messy bed hair and a caption that read, “Your boyfriend just woke up. Isn’t he handsome?” You rolled your eyes but couldn’t stop smiling at your phone.
You: the handsomest!
In the days that followed, being in a relationship with Vernon felt like the easiest thing in the world. There was no awkward transition, no need to overthink anything. You just were together now, and it felt natural.
You spent Friday nights hanging out at your place, sometimes ordering takeout and binge-watching your favorite shows. He’d wrap his arm around you, pulling you close as you both debated whether pineapple belonged on pizza—it didn’t, according to him, but you had other opinions. His hand would absentmindedly play with your hair, and you’d find yourself smiling for no reason at all.
You found yourself getting used to all the sweet texts, random kisses on your forehead, and the way he’d always pull you closer when you least expected it. There was a sense of security in being with him, like you didn’t have to worry about anything because Vernon was there—steady and kind.
You knew you’d made the right choice. Vernon wasn’t just sweet or thoughtful—he was the kind of person who would always go the extra mile, who made you feel cared for in the smallest but most meaningful ways. And being with him was fun. There was something light and easy about it, like the two of you were building something beautiful without even realizing it.
And of course, you also found a way to keep things interesting. One weekend, you planned a surprise road trip—“Just pack a bag and drive. Don’t ask questions,” you told him over the phone.
You ended up driving to a cozy cabin by the lake, where you spent the weekend hiking, making s’mores by the fire, and cuddling under thick blankets while watching the stars.
“Thanks, love,” he murmured against your hair. “I needed this.”
You snuggled closer into his warmth, letting him tighten his arms around you. “You’re welcome. You’ve been working nonstop since last week. I figured you should take a break.”
“Seungkwan’s gonna kill me for slacking off.”
You chuckled, tilting your head upwards so you could meet his gaze. “I don’t think he will. He was so happy when I told him I’d take you away for the weekend.”
“He was?”
“Yeah. He was so grateful,” you replied, reverting your gaze back to the starry night sky. “I thought he’d kiss my feet.”
He hummed thoughtfully. “Have I been working too much? Didn’t feel like it.”
“People saw it. I saw it,” you said. “I know how important this is for you but you don’t have to push yourself too hard, Vernon. What’s the point of all this if your body gives out?”
“I didn’t realize I was that bad,” Vernon admitted, breaking the silence. “I mean, I knew I was working hard, but I didn’t think it was too much. Truth is, I feel like I should be doing more.”
“You do plenty, Vernon,” you replied softly. “You’re passionate. That’s one of the many things I love about you. But, you know, even superheroes need a break sometimes.”
He smiled, his hand gently tracing patterns on your arm. “You think I’m a superhero, huh?”
“Well, you’re definitely my hero,” you teased, nudging him playfully.
He chuckled, his chest vibrating under your cheek. “Thank you. I needed this. I needed you. It’s nice to have someone who reminds me to slow down.” His gaze turned serious for a moment. “You have no idea how much I appreciate that.”
His honesty touched you, and you found yourself smiling up at him. “Well, it’s part of the girlfriend duties, I guess.”
Vernon leaned in closer, his forehead gently resting against yours. “You’re doing a really good job.”
You giggled. “I also have to pull you out sometimes because what about me? I need your attention too!” you whined playfully, pouting. “Lots of it.”
“Right now, I’m all yours,” he chimed, nuzzling his nose on your cheek.
The air between you shifted, softening with the closeness. His eyes, normally so full of focus and energy, now held something softer, something deeper. Your breaths mingled, and the world around you seemed to fade into the background.
Your eyes landed on his lips—plump, pink, inviting, upturned in a lazy smile. Your heart fluttered with the thoughts of kissing him swimming in your mind. “You know,” you whispered, “you could thank me properly.”
His lips twitched into a playful smile. “Oh? And how should I do that?”
You bit your lip, the corners of your mouth curving up as you glanced at his lips, then back to his eyes. “I’m sure you’ll figure it out.”
Vernon’s smile widened, his hand moving to cup your cheek as he leaned to kiss you again—slowly, deliberately, deliciously. His hand slid down from your cheek to the small of your back, pulling you closer. His touch was tender, yet there was some strength in the way his fingers pressed into you—a subtle intensity that matched the growing heat between you both.
The world around you seemed to blur, the crackling fire and the cool night air fading away as you focused entirely on him—his lips, his warmth, his steady breathing. Your hands found their way to the nape of his neck, your fingers tangling in his hair. You could feel the shift in him too—his breaths becoming deeper, his body relaxing into yours while his lips moved with more intent.
When you finally pulled back, your heart was racing, your faces still so close that you could feel his breath fanning your face. His eyes searched yours, asking a question that he didn’t need to say out loud. There was no need for words—everything you both felt was there in the way you kissed and held each other.
Without breaking the gaze, Vernon leaned forward, placing a soft kiss on your neck, then another, his lips grazing your skin with such care that it sent a shiver down your spine. The tension was spurred not just physically but emotionally—a culmination of the trust, the affection, and the love that had been building between you.
“Vernon…” you whispered, moaning as he sucked a bruise on your collarbone. “Vernon, let’s… let’s go back inside.”
Without a word, he rose to his feet, lifting you with ease. You locked eyes only for a second before he leaned in for another kiss that he didn’t break until you were back inside the cabin. It wasn’t long before the two of you were lost in each other’s touch, filling the quiet night with labored breath and whispers of sweet nothings in each other’s ears.
Making love with Vernon for the first time was magical—so much more than you’d imagined. It was beautiful and satisfying. He was attentive to your needs and made sure you were comfortable all throughout. What you weren’t expecting though, was the aftermath. Ever since that night, there had been a small but unmistakable shift in Vernon—he couldn’t seem to keep his hands to himself anymore.
He’d sneak up behind you when you were cooking, wrapping his arms around your waist, trailing warm kisses along the curve of your neck, making it impossible to focus on anything else. Sometimes he’d press his crotch on your ass, making himself known. If you were sitting on the couch, reading, or just relaxing, he’d find a way to pull you onto his lap, his hands gently resting on your waist or your thighs. Sometimes, you’d catch him staring at you with that look, like he was waiting for a chance to pounce and devour.
“Vernon,” you’d tease, laughing as you tried to push him away half-heartedly, but his arms would only tighten around you, a mischievous grin spreading across his face.
“What? I can’t help it,” he’d say, his voice low and playful. “You’re too irresistible.”
You couldn’t deny it—you loved how close you’d become, how his affection seemed to overflow in the quiet moments you shared together. And yet, there were times you had to remind him that the world existed beyond the two of you.
Like that one time at the grocery store, when he reached for your hand and tugged you into the nearest aisle, pressing you up against the shelves with a grin.
“Vernon, we’re in public,” you whispered, cheeks flushing as you glanced around to make sure no one was watching.
He just shrugged, his lips brushing against your ear. “Doesn’t mean I don’t want to kiss you right now.”
You rolled your eyes, but you let him steal a quick kiss anyway, unable to resist the giddiness that bubbled up inside you every time he acted like this—like he couldn’t get enough of you.
“What happened to you? Since when did you get so….” you’d asked him one time when you had just arrived from work and he was already up on you.
“I got a taste of you. That’s when,” he replied, grinning before he pinned you down the bed.
It was both endearing and exhilarating, this new phase of your relationship, where everything felt so easy, so light. You were falling even deeper for him, caught up in the joy of just being together, in love, and in sync. It felt like you were living in a dream, where Vernon was both your best friend and your lover, and you couldn’t wait to see where this adventure would take you next.
Just like that, a year passed like a beautiful, fast-paced blur—a time spent in moments of laughter, late nights, and whispered intimacies.
Winter came first. You spent cozy evenings at your place, wrapped up in blankets, sipping hot cocoa, and watching snowflakes fall from the sky. One particular night, after a snowball fight outside, you’d collapsed on the couch, laughing and drenched from the snow. Vernon pulled you into his arms, warming you with his body and peppering your face with soft kisses, each one melting away the cold.
You spent that Christmas with his family, who welcomed you like you were one of their own. The fireplace crackled warmly, the glow of the Christmas tree lights twinkled like stars, and the scent of pine filled the air, wrapping you in a nostalgic embrace. You felt at home in their care, much like how Vernon made you feel safe and cherished every day.
Spring arrived, and with it, new adventures. You both took long walks through blooming gardens and parks, hand-in-hand, admiring the colors and the new life that seemed to pop up everywhere.
It was also the time when Vernon’s startup had taken off in ways neither of you had anticipated. After months of hard work and sleepless nights, the official launch of their software was met with enthusiastic support from consumers and investors alike. This new milestone in his career meant more late nights at the office, and while you missed him, you celebrated his success as your own, often texting him little reminders of your love during his busy days.
You often attended work galas together where you couldn’t be any prouder seeing him in his element, confidently navigating conversations with clients and investors. Vernon always had a way of making things look effortless. He’d occasionally glance your way, flashing you a soft, knowing smile whenever your eyes met from across the room, making you feel like the most important person there, even among the fancy suits and champagne flutes.
By the time summer rolled around, the two of you were already inseparable. He had earned enough to get himself a bigger apartment, and he’d invited you to live with him. Without a second thought, you accepted, giddy at the prospect of sharing every waking moment together.
On weekends, despite his hectic schedule, Vernon always made time for you. No matter how tired he was, he’d insist on going out for brunch or planning a mini-adventure to clear his head from the work week. It was one of the things you admired about him—his ability to balance ambition and affection, making sure you knew you were never second to his career, even when he was juggling so much.
You went on beach trips a handful of times—your way of making sure he gets his rest. You’d run down the shoreline, laughter echoing as he pretended to chase you, only to sweep you into the waves for a splash-filled embrace. The salty breeze tangled in your hair, the sun warmed your skin, and the sound of his laughter filled the air—it was a slice of pure freedom. You’d spend hours lying on a beach towel together, your head resting on his chest as he traced lazy patterns on your back, feeling completely at peace.
There were times when work stress started to get the better of him, though. He would come home exhausted, bags under his eyes, and you’d find him sitting on the couch, staring into space. During those moments, you’d sit beside him, take his hand, and just let him breathe. He’d always pull you into a hug, sighing in relief, as if just being near you helped ease his mind.
Autumn came swiftly, marking a year since you’d become official. Your jobs still took up most of your time, but you’d always come home to each other’s embrace. Almost a year to the day since he’d asked you to be his girlfriend, you both went hiking up a nearby mountain, relishing the crisp autumn air and breathtaking view. When you reached the top, Vernon pulled you close, his breath visible in the chilly air. “This past year with you has been the best year of my life.”
He wasn’t usually the sentimental type, but the sincerity in his voice made your heart swell. You kissed him, long and deep, filled with all the love that had grown between you.
Yet, your relationship wasn’t without its trials. You had fights too, arguments that were either petty or intense as you navigated the complexities of a steady relationship. Vernon’s calm and understanding demeanor guided you through the turbulent waters. Each time you emerged stronger, growing as a couple and as individuals.
“I know you’re a grown woman, and I know you’re capable of taking care of yourself, but—” Vernon paused, running his fingers through his hair in exasperation. “You still have to let me know when you’re coming home late and where you’re going so I’d know where to find you if anything bad were to happen.”
You pouted, arms crossed over your chest as you stared at the wall, unable to meet his gaze. He sighed, reaching for your elbow, gently tugging you face-to-face. “I hope you understand what I’m getting at,” he said softly.
“You still love me, right?” you asked, still scowling and still avoiding his gaze.
“Look at me,” he insisted, but you turned your head away. “Love, look at me when you ask me that.”
You finally glanced at him, biting your lower lip as you fidgeted with the sleeves of your T-shirt. Vernon pushed the hair out of your eyes and lifted your chin, his gaze steady. “I love you so much. Nothing’s changed.”
As the year drew to a close, you reflected on how much had changed since that first movie night. You had built a life together, rich with love, laughter, and countless small moments that brought you closer..
As snow began to fall once again, marking the beginning of another winter, you found yourself daydreaming about what the next year would hold for the two of you. Whatever came next, you knew one thing for sure—you were in this together, and that was all that mattered.
You stepped out of the closet, dressed neatly in your work uniform—a beige top with a matching beige pencil skirt. Vernon was sitting on the edge of the bed, phone in his ear as he talked to who you assumed was Seungkwan.
“Okay, got it,” he said, smiling upon seeing you. “Yeah, I’ll be there before 10. See you.”
“Is that your work wife?” you asked after he hung up, tying your scarf around your neck as you walked toward your boyfriend.
“Stop calling him that,” Vernon chuckled, his laughter warm and inviting as he welcomed you into his arms when you moved to sit on his lap. “He hates it.”
You grinned, tilting your head to the side as he pressed a soft kiss on your cheek. “Well, he is your work wife. Wait—no. I think ‘Work Mom’ would be better. He’s like a mom, very strict and always nagging.”
“Why don’t you two like each other?” he asked, fiddling with the scarf around your neck, tugging at it playfully until it came undone.
“Ex-wives and new wives don’t always get along, love. Everyone knows that,” you quipped, leaning back to meet his gaze.
Vernon hummed thoughtfully, his eyes glimmering with fondness as he leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. “We gotta fix that. Can’t have my wives fighting all the time or else I’d crumble to the ground. You guys are the reason I’m still standing, did you forget?” His kisses trailed up your neck, sending a shiver down your spine.
You giggled as his nose tickled your ear. “Yeah, no. Seungkwan and I are close. We just fight for fun. I thought you knew that?”
He took a long sniff of your skin, his eyes fluttering closed as he moaned quietly, clearly enjoying your scent. His hand began to unbutton your blouse, but you playfully pushed him back. “What?” he asked, his gaze dreamy and half-lidded.
You huffed. “You’re insatiable,” you grumbled, shifting your positions and pinning him down on the bed.
Vernon was caught off-guard but only for a second. He relaxed on the bed, placing his hands under his head as he watched you straddle him with amusement in his eyes. “You look amazing up there.”
“Really? Well, you look like you’re running late. Get up,” you demanded, standing up abruptly and striding over to the full-length mirror to fix your scarf, a playful smile lingering on your lips as you caught your reflection.
Vernon followed you, wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his chin on your shoulder. The warmth of his body against yours was comforting. “Ten minutes?”
“No,” you replied without missing a beat, your smile widening at his hopeful tone.
“Seven?” he pressed on, his voice teasing. “Okay. Five. How about five?”
“No. You’re supposed to be at work by 10 am,” you chided, packing your stuff into your bag. “And I’m supposed to be in mine in thirty minutes.”
“Alright, fine,” he conceded, pouting playfully, and you couldn’t help but laugh at his exaggerated disappointment. You helped him put on his coat, patting it down and taking a moment to marvel at his sharp appearance. The way he looked in that coat made your heart flutter. “Do I look handsome?”
You giggled, tiptoeing to plant a quick kiss on his lips, savoring the warmth of his smile. “Very. Come on, let’s go.”
At work, the familiar hum of chatter and the soothing ambiance of the hotel welcomed you. Today was the day of the promotion announcements, and despite the anxious knots in your stomach, there was a flicker of hope within you. As you settled into your cubicle, you exchanged a smile with Sally, both of you sharing that unspoken excitement. You spent a few minutes organizing your workspace, distracting yourself from the jitters.
Finally, the manager gathered everyone in the conference room. Your heart raced, your mind wandering to what it would feel like to hear your name called. A promotion would mean more than just a new title; it would feel like a validation of your hard work, a step forward toward something more fulfilling.
“And finally,” the manager said, his voice pulling you back to the moment, “Sally, our newest concierge who will be gracing the front desk from now on.”
A round of applause erupted, but the sound felt muted, and distant. You clapped along, though your hands felt heavier with each passing second. Sally beamed, and while you were happy for her, a weight settled in your chest. You had worked just as hard and poured just as much energy into the job. Yet here you were, still in the same place, while Sally was moving forward.
As the applause died down and the meeting wrapped up, you returned to your desk, your steps slower than before. You felt pride for Sally but you were also frustrated about the recognition you thought you’d receive. You reminded yourself that promotions sometimes came down to factors beyond performance, like qualifications—Sally had a degree in Hospitality, while you didn’t. Undeniably, you were good at your job, but you didn’t have the same training as Sally and the others.
You sat down, staring blankly at your computer screen. You didn’t dream of managing reservations every day. Back in college, you’d chosen Communications because you had dreams of becoming a journalist, of writing stories that mattered. The hotel reservation desk wasn’t where you thought you’d be.
The phone on your desk rang, jarring you from your thoughts. You took a deep breath, forcing a smile as you picked up. “Diamond Hotel! How may I assist you today?”
You couldn’t deny how much you enjoyed the stability of your day-to-day life—especially with Vernon by your side. The two of you were happy, navigating life together, cheering each other on in your respective paths. Vernon, with his drive and passion for his startup, was thriving. And you, well… you liked being part of his success story, the one who was there to help him unwind, to be the arm candy beside him at work events.
But the more you thought about it, the more you realized—his success wasn’t enough to fill the gaps in your own. Vernon was doing what he loved, chasing his dreams, and growing in ways that inspired you. Meanwhile, you were stuck in a job that felt safe but unfulfilling, and every day, it became harder to ignore that nagging feeling in your chest—the one whispering that you were meant for more.
You glanced over at Sally, who was now chatting excitedly with your manager. Her promotion felt like a reminder of what you were missing. And while you weren’t resentful, the ache of unmet potential gnawed at you. It wasn’t jealousy—it was the realization that somewhere along the line, you’d stopped pursuing what truly mattered to you.
“Are you ready?” Vernon asked, walking into the bedroom to find you putting on a thick jacket over your dress.
“Yeah, let’s go,” you smiled, accepting his hand and letting him guide you out of the apartment.
It was the weekend and you were set to meet your family for dinner. The evening air outside was cold, with a chill creeping in as winter began to settle into the city. You walked hand-in-hand with Vernon, the streetlights casting a soft glow over the two of you as you headed toward his car. His thumb gently brushed over your knuckles, and you couldn’t help but smile at the small, affectionate gesture.
The drive to your parent’s place was quiet, filled with the comfortable silence that came after years of being together. This was Vernon’s first time meeting your parents in person, and although you knew they’d love him, you were still nervous thinking about how the night would unfold. Vernon must’ve sensed your unease because he reached for your hand and squeezed it reassuringly.
“You okay?” he asked, eyes searching yours with gentle concern.
“Yeah,” you nodded, giving him a small smile. Only then did you notice the slight but unmistakable furrow in his brows. Paired with his clenched jaw, you could tell he was nervous. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, just a little nervous.”
“Aw. Don’t worry. They’re gonna love you,” you chimed, kissing his knuckles. “Just like I do.”
He laughed softly, your confidence easing some of his tension. “That’s the plan,” he replied, eyes still fixed on the road ahead.
You had told your parents all about Vernon—how caring he was, how ambitious yet down-to-earth, and how he always knew how to make you feel at home. But seeing him interact with them, watching their first impressions form, felt like a major milestone in your relationship.
When you arrived, the familiar sight of your childhood home came into view, the porch light already on and your family’s laughter spilling out from the windows. Vernon parked the car and turned to you with a grin. “Ready?”
“Ready,” you smiled, letting him intertwine your fingers.
As soon as you rang the doorbell, the door flew open and your mother welcomed you with a warm embrace. “There’s my beautiful girl!”
“Hi, mom!” you greeted, hugging her back. Behind her, your father was standing with a smile. “Dad!” you exclaimed, moving to hug him next while your mom greeted Vernon.
“You must be Vernon,” she asked.
“Yes, ma’am. It’s nice to meet you,” he replied rubbing your mother’s back when she pulled him into a hug.
Your father regarded Vernon, greeting him with a manly pat on the back and a handshake. Letting them get to know each other, your mother guided you into the house, whispering in your ear, “He looks so much better in person.”
“Right? I told you he does,” you replied and you both giggled all the way to the dining hall.
Dinner was a lively affair, filled with stories, laughter, and, as expected, the occasional nudge about your future plans with Vernon. But you took it all in stride, enjoying the simple pleasure of being surrounded by family. Vernon, as promised, managed to deflect most of the pointed questions with his charm, turning the conversation back to lighter topics whenever things got too personal.
“How come you waited this long to bring him home?” your mom questioned, and you could only smile sheepishly.
“Oh, I know,” your father joined in, sniggering. “She wasn’t expecting him to last this long.”
“Dad,” you chided softly, shaking your head. “That’s not true.”
He turned to Vernon. “It is. She was trying to see if you can handle her and won’t run away at the first chance.”
“Well, sir, your daughter’s not going anywhere because I’m not letting her go,” Vernon boasted.
Vernon’s confident remark earned a few chuckles around the table, and even your dad smiled, seemingly impressed by his boldness. But soon, the conversation drifted toward Vernon’s work, a natural topic considering your parents’ curiosity about the man you’d brought home.
“So, Vernon,” your dad began, taking a sip of his drink. “I heard you’re running your own company. How’s that going?”
“It’s been great so far, sir. A lot of hard work, but we’re starting to see some real growth. I’ve got a solid team behind me, and we’ve been lucky to land a few big clients this year,” Vernon explained humbly, though you could hear the pride in his voice. It made you smile, knowing how hard he’d worked to get to this point.
“That’s fantastic,” your mom chimed in, her eyes gleaming with admiration. “Running your own business at such a young age—that’s no small feat.”
“Yeah, he’s been doing great,” you added, glancing at Vernon with pride. “He’s always working late nights, but I keep trying to remind him to take breaks.”
Your dad grunted in approval, nodding as he cut into his steak. “That’s the kind of dedication that pays off. Not a lot of young people can say they’re doing something they’re truly passionate about.”
And then, without missing a beat, he continued, “At least one of you is doing something they actually like.”
You froze, your smile faltering slightly as the comment landed a little too close to home. Your mother shot your dad a sharp look, her eyebrows raised in disapproval.
“Honey,” she scolded, her voice tinged with warning. “That was a bit uncalled for.”
Your dad blinked, genuinely clueless, his expression one of mild confusion. “What? I didn’t mean anything by it,” he said then a glint of recognition flashed in his eyes when he saw your face. “I just meant... you know... Vernon’s following his passion, that’s all.”
You forced a laugh, though it came out more strained than you intended. “It’s fine, Mom,” you said quickly, hoping to brush past the comment. But deep down, his words had struck a chord. You kept your emotions at bay, not wanting to spoil the night.
Vernon must’ve sensed something because his hand slipped under the table to give yours a comforting squeeze. You squeezed back, grateful for his silent support, even though you didn’t meet his eyes. You didn’t want him to see the flicker of doubt creeping in.
The conversation shifted again, your mom steering it back to safer topics—family trips, funny memories, anything that didn’t revolve around work. But even as laughter filled the room once more, the words lingered in your mind like a quiet echo, reminding you of the dreams you’d put on hold.
Another year passed, filled with love, laughter, and the small routines that had become the foundation of your relationship with Vernon. You marveled at how easy it was to slip into life with him—lazy Sunday mornings spent in bed, quiet dinners after long workdays, and spontaneous weekend getaways that kept the spark alive. He was always there, steady and present, his love for you unwavering.
But as Vernon’s star continued to rise, something inside you began to shift. You watched him become more confident, more assured in his path, while you remained exactly where you had started: sitting in your cubicle, answering phone calls, and managing hotel reservations.
You were proud of him, of course. His dedication and hard work were paying off, and you loved seeing him thrive in an industry he was passionate about. But every time you heard about his achievements, a small part of you felt left behind. While he soared, you stayed grounded, rooted in a job that had long since lost its appeal.
You told yourself that it didn’t matter, that you were happy supporting Vernon and building a life together. But as the months went by, the excitement you once felt about your own future dimmed. Conversations at dinner turned into Vernon sharing news of his latest deals or the new office space his company had acquired, while you had little to contribute beyond the mundane details of your day. He never made you feel small—quite the opposite, actually. He always asked how your day went, listened intently, and reassured you that your time would come. But his words didn’t reach the parts of you that had begun to wonder if it ever would.
You started to notice things about yourself that you hadn’t before. The way your excitement for work had faded, the way your once confident posture slumped slightly as you sat at your desk. You’d catch glimpses of yourself in the mirror at the end of the day, your work uniform feeling more like a costume than a true reflection of who you were or who you wanted to be. It wasn’t jealousy—Vernon’s success was well-deserved. It was more a growing uncertainty about your own place in the world, a feeling that maybe you weren’t doing enough, weren’t being enough.
The nights when Vernon stayed late at the office became more frequent, and while you told yourself you understood, it left more time for your thoughts to spiral. You’d curl up on the couch, watching TV alone, wondering when you had started feeling so distant from the person you used to be. The person who had dreams of her own, who had once imagined writing stories that people would read, maybe even resonate with.
And though Vernon never missed an opportunity to remind you how much he loved you, you couldn’t help but feel a growing sense of inadequacy. Like somehow, you were falling short of the life you were supposed to be living—that somehow, you weren’t good enough for Vernon anymore.
But you pushed those thoughts away, burying them under your love for Vernon and the belief that as long as you had each other, it would all work out. Still, the doubt lingered as the year came and went.
“Good morning, love,” Vernon whispered in your ear, the soft press of his lips against your temple stirring you from sleep. You blinked your eyes open, greeted by the sight of his tender gaze and his charming smile. “Happy anniversary.”
You smiled back, leaning into his embrace, soaking in the warmth he effortlessly offered. Vernon wrapped his arms around you tighter, placing a kiss on your forehead. You looked up at him, noticing how at ease he seemed, his head propped on one hand while his fingers lazily played with the ends of your hair.
“Happy anniversary,” you murmured softly as you cupped his cheek. He leaned down to kiss you, his lips lingering on yours.
It didn’t take long for the soft kiss to deepen, sending a surge of warmth through your body and a wave of emotions in your heart. Vernon’s hand moved from hair to you arms, featherlight as he traced the path slowly, deliberately, like he was memorizing the feeling of you.
Your hand slipped into his hair, tugging softly, pulling him closer as if you weren’t already skin to skin. When his hand reached your ass, he gave a good squeeze that set off goosebumps all over your body. He then pulled away for a second, eyes searching yours as if asking a silent question, one that you’d already answered the moment you returned his kiss.
Your kisses grew deeper, breaths becoming shorter, bodies pressing closer. You could feel the heat of his skin beneath your palms and the steady beating of his heart. There was no rush, you both took your sweet time, agreeing on an unspoken understanding that you had all the time in the world.
He kissed your neck when you threw your head back, and you let him trail his lips down to your collarbone while his hand tugged the straps of your nightgown down. Soon, you were naked under him and you watched his eyes widen slightly at the sight of your breasts, smiling as you reached for his neck and pulled him down. Vernon let you guide his mouth to one of your nipples, and the moan that escaped your lips was ecstatic once his teeth grazed the sensitive bud.
He worked his way around your body, squeezing, pinching, sucking—all that while you held on to him, bucking your hips forward to feel any friction in your aching sex. Vernon slotted his knee between your legs and you humped on it desperately.
Your patience was running thin while Vernon was hyper-fixating on your supple skin, kissing and nipping and leaving bruises at his wake. You reached for the waistband of his sweatpants, pushing your hand inside and grabbing his manhood. Vernon jerked back slightly, but you didn’t let go. You thumbed the head of his dick, spreading the precum in a circling motion.
“Nonie, I want this,” you whispered, deliberately using the nickname that never failed to get you anything you wanted from him.
He pulled back for a moment, eyes dark with desire but softened by his affection for you. His thumb brushed over your lower lip, a playful smirk playing on his lips. “Are you sure?” His voice was low, the question barely a whisper.
“Are you kidding me right now?” you retorted, rolling your eyes but you were grinning from ear to ear.
“Just say it,” he sang, kissing the tip of your nose.
“Yes. I’m very sure,” you replied, voice laced with mock-sarcasm, but that was enough for Vernon.
He kept his eyes on yours, not breaking eye contact as he cupped your pussy and pressed on it. Your breath hitched, making him smile before slipping his hand into your underwear. For a moment, he played with the slick that had gathered there, spreading it and using it to lubricate his fingers as he rubbed your clit.
Your fingers gripped the fabric of his shirt, a desperate attempt to hold onto something solid as your body began to sink into his touch. The delight was short-lived because Vernon’s hand suddenly left your pussy. In swift motions, Vernon sat up and stripped himself out of his clothes before positioning himself between your legs.
The next few minutes was a blur of lewd moans blending with the sounds of sucking and licking as Vernon ravaged your sex with his mouth. He went on and on, relentless even as your voice became hoarse and small tears trickled on the side of your face. And then with a strong grip at his hair, you focused on the pleasurable motions of his tongue and fingers, letting it drive you to the edge before a wave of orgasm crashed through you.
Your grip at his hair loosened, and your legs fell limp as you stared at the ceiling, trying to make sense of the high that took over you just now. Vernon appeared, hovering over you with an air of pride about him. You smiled a grateful smile, showing him how satisfied you were.
But then the sudden feeling of your cunt being filled to the bottom made you gasp, mouth gaping open as your back arched in response. Vernon lowered himself to kiss your cheek, cupping your face gently as he shushed you.
“You asked for it, remember?” he said softly, but the mischief in his voice was unmistakable.
In your titillating daze, Vernon moved and found his pace with practiced ease. Every nerve in your body seemed to come alive, making you lose your mind as every thrust gave you a taste of heaven on Earth.
The room was filled the sounds of your whimpers, his guttural groans, and flesh slamming against flesh. The world outside the bed blurred into irrelevance. Every touch felt amplified—each caress, each whispered breath pulled you deeper into one another. Your fingers tightened around his shoulders, your body responding instinctively to the rising intensity.
“Nonie,” you called in a hushed, breathless gasp as his touch sent waves of sensation rippling through you. Your mind was a haze, lost somewhere between desire and release.
The pressure was building inside you, slow at first, then surging all at once. The world seemed to still for a second—then everything came crashing down as another orgasm came washing over you in waves, leaving you breathless and spent.
He followed you soon after, your bodies perfectly in sync, his soft groan was the only sound between you as he rammed into you relentlessly. One final thrust had him stuttering curses, then he stilled for a good minute before falling in your chest, face buried in your neck.
For a long while, neither of you moved, your bodies still locked together, the aftershocks of your release pulsing through you. Slowly, your breathing returned to normal, the frantic energy replaced by an overwhelming sense of warmth and closeness
Vernon lifted his head to look at you. “I love you,” he uttered before kissing your lips.
The kiss was sweet, comforting even, but as he pulled away, a thought flickered through your mind—how perfect everything must look on the outside. Here you were, in the arms of a man who adored you, who made you feel cherished. And yet, beneath that perfect image, your heart was aching with uncertainty and self-doubt.
For a moment, you wondered if Vernon could see it—the quiet battle you fought within yourself, the creeping fear that you weren’t enough. But his eyes remained soft, full of love, oblivious to the storm forming under your calm exterior.
You gave him a small smile, pushing those thoughts aside again, and whispered, “I love you.” As long as you could hold onto that love, maybe everything else would eventually fall into place.
“I think self-doubt is the worst but most effective way to self-destruct,” you said, staring at the contents of your glass. The bottle next to it was half-empty, a quiet testament to how long you’d been sitting there.
“You know, when your own insecurities start eating away at you, and you just… let them? It gnaws at you until there’s nothing left. And when that happens, you don’t even realize—you become the monster, and you start eating away at everyone around you,” you continued, the words settling heavily in your chest.
You glanced at Seungcheol, and though he stared off into space, you could tell he was listening intently.
“People might say I should’ve communicated with Vernon—told him what was bothering me, how I was feeling, but…” You trailed off, shaking your head. “Pride is a god-awful thing too. It wouldn’t let me show my perfect boyfriend that I was flawed.”
Seungcheol took a sip from his glass, his silence offering a kind of understanding that didn’t need words. You sighed, running your fingers through your hair, feeling lighter but also somehow more burdened by the memories you had unearthed.
“Funny thing is, on the surface, everything seemed perfect,” you said, half-laughing. “We went to galas, work events, dinners. From the outside, we were that couple—successful, in love.”
Seungcheol raised an eyebrow, his expression inviting you to continue.
You exhaled slowly, the memory of one particular evening surfacing. “There was this gala we attended. I wore this gorgeous maroon dress, and Vernon… well, he looked like he belonged there—he was in his element. The room practically revolved around him.”
Your mind drifted back to that night. The flash of lights, the clink of champagne glasses, and the elegant murmur of conversation all seemed so distant now.
You were standing by the champagne table, watching Vernon talk to a couple of people animatedly. You quietly sipped your drink, letting your thoughts spiral into another wave of self-doubt and feeling of inadequacy.
“It pains me to admit this, but you look ravishing tonight,” Seungkwan prompted, appearing beside you with a deadpan expression.
You scoffed, rolling your eyes playfully. “You don’t look so bad yourself. Is that Prada?” You fake exclaimed, eyeing his suit.
Seungkwan smirked, looking away and brushing his nose smugly as he puffed his chest. “This old thing? Stop. It’s nothing.”
You chuckled and let Seungkwan ruffle his feathers for a bit. Then he looked at you, really look at you. “Is everything okay?”
“Of course. Why’d you ask?” you questioned and it came out a little defensive.
“Maybe it’s just me, but your energy seemed off lately.”
Nervousness crept to your chest. “Off how? What do you mean?”
“I have no idea, but I can feel it. I have a good sense when it comes to these things.”
You couldn’t help feeling warm. Despite your cat and dog dynamics, you always knew Seungkwan cared about you. “I’m fine, Boo. It’s probably just the evening. I’m kinda tired.”
“If you’re tired, you should stop drinking,” Seungkwan said, taking the glass from your hand and setting it down. “Should I tell Vernon you’re ready to leave?”
“Thanks, but I’m fine. I’m not in a rush. Go have fun.”
“Okay,” he nodded as he started walking away. “No more champagne for you, alright?”
You sighed and waved your hand at him dismissively. At that moment, you spotted Vernon approaching you with a lady.
“Love, come meet Ms. Jean. She’s an editor for S Magazine,” Vernon introduced with a warm smile, gently placing his hand on your back. You turned to meet the woman standing beside him—a poised figure in a sleek black dress, her short bob neatly framing her face. She extended her hand toward you with a professional smile.
“It’s lovely to meet you,” she said, her voice smooth but authoritative.
You shook her hand, trying to steady your nerves. “Nice to meet you too.”
“Vernon’s been telling me a lot about you,” Ms. Jean continued, her eyes sharp but not unkind. “He mentioned you studied Communications. Have you always worked in hospitality?”
There it was. The subtle jab you always dreaded, though you knew she hadn’t meant it that way. You smiled, your response ready. “Yes, I work in hospitality right now, but I’m on the lookout for writing opportunities.”
Her eyebrows arched with mild interest. “Really? What kind of writing?”
You felt your heart race slightly, unsure if this was your moment to impress or if you were just another face in the crowd for her. “Mostly feature articles and creative pieces. I used to write short stories and some features for our school paper back in college.”
Ms. Jean nodded thoughtfully, taking a sip from her champagne flute. “Interesting. S Magazine has been expanding its lifestyle section recently. We’ve been looking for fresh voices, especially those with a knack for storytelling.”
Your breath hitched at the mention. The opportunity sounded almost surreal, but you tried not to get ahead of yourself. “That sounds incredible. I’d love to know more about what kind of pieces you’re looking for.”
She smiled, her expression professional yet a little distant, as though gauging your sincerity. “We’re always on the lookout for writers who can capture personal experiences in a way that resonates with a wide audience—something authentic yet relatable.”
Your mind buzzed with ideas, but doubt crept in alongside the excitement. Could you really fit the mold? Did you still have what it took?
“Tell you what,” Ms. Jean said, pulling out her card from a sleek case. “Send me a few samples of your writing. Let’s see where that takes us.”
Vernon looked at you proudly, beaming as if he could already see your success unfolding. You smiled back, though a small part of you wondered if you were ready for this—if you could really stand alongside people like Ms. Jean, in a career you once dreamed of but left behind.
“Thank you, Ms. Jean. I’ll definitely send some over,” you promised, carefully tucking the card into your purse.
The conversation shifted back to lighter topics, but your mind was elsewhere. As Vernon continued to chat away, you found yourself thinking of the stories you’d abandoned, the dreams you’d once nurtured. Maybe this was the sign you had been waiting for?
But even as that hope flickered, so did the insecurity, whispering in your ear: What if you’re not good enough for it?
“Shall we?” Vernon prompted, making you glance at him. The people he was talking to had left and you didn’t even notice.
“What?”
“Shall we go now? It’s getting a little boring in here.”
You smiled, tilting your head to the side at the familiar scene before you. “Are you using me as an excuse to escape again?”
“No, not this time,” he grinned, taking your hand and then kissing your knuckles. “There’s something I wanna show you.”
You laughed softly as Vernon led you out of the gala, his hand firmly gripping yours. The cool night air greeted you, and you welcomed the fresh breeze on your skin, letting it sweep away some of the tension that had settled inside you.
“Where are we going?” you asked, curiosity rising as you walked down the quiet street.
He flashed you a mischievous smile, the kind that always made your heart flutter. “You’ll see.”
You two walked for a few blocks, hand in hand, until you reached a small, familiar place. Your steps faltered as the brightly lit sign of the small Mexican restaurant came into view—the same one from your very first Friday night date. A wave of nostalgia hit you.
“Vernon…” you started, your voice trailing off as you turned to him. He gave you a knowing look.
“I figured it’d be nice to take you back here,” he said, opening the door and gesturing for you to step inside.
The restaurant was cozy, just as it had been two years ago. The dim lighting, the quiet atmosphere, and the scent of fresh tortillas brought back memories of that night—the excitement of getting to know him, the lighthearted conversation, and the comfort you felt by his side. You smiled at the memory, but it was tinged with an unexpected heaviness now.
You were the only ones there and Vernon led you to a corner table, the same one you’d sat at on that date. It felt surreal, like you were being transported back in time. After placing your orders, he reached across the table, his fingers brushing against yours.
“Remember that night? You canceled the hotel restaurant and brought me here,” Vernon said with a chuckle, his eyes softening as he gazed at you. “I was a little nervous back then. I wanted to impress you so bad.”
“You didn’t have to try too hard,” you smiled, your heart warming at the memory. “You already won me over the moment I first saw those eyes.”
He laughed, and for a moment, the tension in your chest eased. But as the conversation went on, you noticed that Vernon seemed different tonight—his eyes held a deeper intensity, like he had something more on his mind.
After finishing the meal, Vernon took a deep breath, his hand gently squeezing yours. “There’s something I’ve been wanting to say for a while,” he began, his eyes locking with yours in a way that made your heart skip.
You blinked, your heart suddenly pounding, unsure of what was coming. Before you could fully grasp the moment, Vernon stood up and moved to your side, dropping down on one knee.
Your hand flew over your mouth, gasping softly as the world around you came to a halt.
“From the moment we met, I knew you were gonna be very special to me,” he began, his voice steady but filled with emotion. “You’ve been my best friend, my biggest supporter, and the love of my life. I can’t imagine a future without you, and I don’t want to. So…”
With a swift motion, he pulled out a small velvet box, opening it to reveal a delicate ring that shimmered in the warm light. “Will you marry me?”
The restaurant faded into the background. All you could hear was the sound of your heartbeat in your ears. Your mind raced as his words sank in. Marriage. The thought had crossed your mind before, but not like this—not now. Not when you were in the midst of so much uncertainty about your own life, your own future. You felt your chest tighten as doubt crept in, louder than ever.
Vernon was everything you could have ever wanted, but the timing felt wrong. Then again, he had never been good with timing.
It wasn’t that you didn’t love him—you did, with every fiber of your being—but your heart was torn. Your career felt stagnant, your sense of self was wavering, and suddenly, the idea of committing to something as important as marriage felt overwhelming.
Tears welled up in your eyes as you looked at him, seeing the love and hope in his gaze. You swallowed hard, forcing yourself to speak past the lump in your throat. “Vernon…” you whispered, your voice trembling. “I love you, but I… I can’t. Not right now.”
His face faltered, the flicker of hurt evident in his eyes. He quickly stood, pulling you into his arms as tears slipped down your cheeks. You buried your face in his chest, your sobs muffled against the fabric of his suit.
“I’m not ready,” you choked out, your voice barely audible between sobs. “I want to marry you, I do… but I’m not in a place where I can think about that yet. There’s so much going on in my head and I don’t want to bring that into our marriage.”
Vernon’s arms tightened around you, his hand softly stroking your back. His voice was gentle as he whispered, “It’s okay. It’s alright, love.” But the heavy sigh he let out betrayed his disappointment, a subtle reminder of how much he had hoped for a different answer.
You pulled away slightly, your tear-streaked face tilted up to him. “I love you. I swear, I love you so much. I just… I need more time,” you pleaded, your heart aching at the sight of his eyes dimming with understanding.
“I know,” he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “I understand. We’ll figure it out together.”
And yet, in the stillness that followed, your rejection lingered between you like a buzz in your ears—one that neither of you could fully shake.
You gulped down your drink, tilting your head back to finish every drop. As you reached for the bottle, Seungcheol pulled it away.
“We’re not even in the intense part yet, and you’re already cutting me off?” you teased.
Seungcheol sighed, unimpressed. “You’re about to finish the whole bottle.”
Giving up, you sighed, letting the tipsy haze settle. “You know what really happened to me at the time? I was in a phase where I had no idea what I was doing. I had a Communications degree with nothing to show for it in my resume.”
Shaking your head, you added. “How did I end up as a reservation agent in a fancy hotel anyway? I forgot, but I do remember working my ass off because the pay was good. And two years passed in a job I didn’t even like. Meanwhile, Vernon’s company was rapidly growing, his success was right around the corner, if not already achieved. He’d done so much in the same amount of time.”
“I was proud of him, but I was also jealous... and so insecure. I felt like I wasn’t enough for him, that he deserved someone on his level—and that wasn’t me.”
Seungcheol shifted in his seat. “Did you ever think that maybe what you did didn’t matter to him? That you were enough just as you were?”
You let out a humorless chuckle. “That’s funny, because that’s exactly what he said.”
Vernon said you’d figure it out together, but from that moment on, cracks started appearing in your seemingly perfect relationship. Vernon’s busy schedule, once something you admired, now felt like a gulf widening between you. Every time he stayed late at the office, every time he missed dinner plans, you couldn’t shake the gnawing thought that it wasn’t just work keeping him away. He would come home tired, still smiling, still full of affection—but you couldn’t feel it the same way anymore.
“You’re not even listening,” you snapped one evening after he zoned out during an argument about a towel he left in the bathroom.
“I’m sorry, love,” he said, rubbing his temples. “It’s been a long day. Can we talk about this later?”
But later never came. Each small incident piled on top of the last, and in your mind, it all added up to one conclusion: Vernon was pulling away because you’d rejected his proposal.
Then more cracks began to form, invisible at first but slowly spreading like cracks in a frozen lake. Everything he did seemed to tick you off and while you tried to keep your irritation at bay, sometimes you would just lash out without reaizing it.
One morning, as you both prepared for the day, you noticed Vernon had put your favorite mug in the dishwasher instead of the drying rack.
“Why did you put it in there? It was already clean,” you asked, unable to keep the annoyance from your voice.
Vernon turned, surprise flickering across his features. “I thought it was dirty. I didn’t want it to get mixed up with the clean dishes.”
You rolled your eyes. “It’s not that hard to tell the difference. I can’t believe you would even think that.”
His brows furrowed in confusion. “I’m sorry. I’ll make sure to leave it out next time.”
You didn’t respond. Instead, you muttered under your breath as you pulled the mug from the dishwasher. It was such a small thing, yet it felt like a big deal in the moment, like a representation of everything that was building inside you.
As the week progressed, the little annoyances multiplied. Vernon left his shoes by the door instead of putting them away, and you found yourself snapping at him, “How hard is it to just put them in the closet? It’s not like you don’t have a place for them.”
Vernon shrugged, his voice steady, “I’m sorry, I’ll get to it. I just forget sometimes.” He always took the blame, even when it felt disproportionate.
Then there was the time you both decided to make dinner together. The moment felt lighter at first, the two of you dancing around each other in the kitchen, laughter spilling out between you. But when Vernon tried to help chop the vegetables, you couldn’t help but comment, “Do you have to slice them that thick? They’re going to take forever to cook.”
His smile faltered for a brief second before he responded, “I thought thicker pieces would have more flavor. I’ll do it your way.”
“Just move. I’ll do it,” you said, frustration bubbling up again as you took the knife from his hands. “It’s just food. Why does it matter so much?” you muttered, more to yourself than to Vernon.
Vernon stepped back, hands raised in mock surrender. “I just thought we were cooking together, but okay.”
You glanced at him, guilt creeping in, but instead of apologizing, you huffed and focused on chopping, feeling ridiculous for picking a fight over something so trivial.
As you settled into bed that night, Vernon’s hand slipped under your nightgown caressing your thigh firmly. You scooted away from him, but he reached for you again. Annoyed, you sat up and glared at him. “Can’t you take a hint?”
His voice softened. “Right, sorry. Let’s just sleep.”
You lay back down, turning your back on him. He moved closer, hugging you from behind and kissing your cheek. You let him, sighing as you convinced yourself to calm down and just bask in the warmth you were familiar with.
“What’s wrong, love?” he asked softly, concern evident in his voice.
“Nothing!” you snapped, then added, “Just go to sleep.”
You hated that you were pushing him away, but the insecurity inside you felt like it was consuming everything. With each argument, the little cracks widened, and you felt more lost than ever.
Days turned into a blur of tiny disputes that left you feeling drained, and yet Vernon remained unfazed, always returning to his gentle, loving demeanor. He brought you flowers one evening, a bouquet of sunflowers that lit up the room.
“Just because,” he said, grinning. “I thought it’d make you smile.”
“Why? Do I look miserable?” you shot back, though your tone was sharper than you intended.
“Of course not,” he replied, taken aback. “I just wanted to brighten your day.”
You felt awful immediately, but instead of apologizing, you buried your guilt under a facade of anger.
“Do you want to talk about your day?” Vernon asked one evening as you sat on the couch, scrolling through your phone while he pulled off his tie.
“Not really,” you replied curtly, your eyes glued to the screen.
His brow furrowed. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.”
“Nothing usually means something,” he pressed, sitting next to you and wrapping his arms around your waist. “You know you can talk to me, right?”
You huffed, frustration bubbling over. “Yes. I know. I’m fine. Can we leave it at that?”
He blinked, taken aback. “Love, I’m here for you, alright? Can we talk about this? Don’t shut me out.”
“There is nothing to talk about, Vernon. Why are you making a big deal out of this?” you said, but the rise of your voice was contradicting your statement.
“What do you want me to do?”
“I don’t know, maybe just actually listen when I say I’m fine?” you shot back, standing up and moving away from him. “Instead of thinking I need saving all the time.”
Vernon sighed, running a hand through his hair, a gesture of exasperation you recognized all too well. “I’m not trying to save you. I just want to understand you..”
You felt a rush of guilt but pushed it away. “Well, you’re not doing a great job of it.”
The evening passed in strained silence. You both tried to move on, but the weight of the argument lingered, coloring everything that followed.
Then came the email. You were sitting at your desk when the notification popped up on your phone. It was from S Magazine, inviting you for an interview based on your writing samples. At first, you stared in disbelief. You hadn’t sent them anything recently.
Later that evening, you confronted Vernon. “Did you submit my work to S Magazine?” you demanded, eyes narrowed as you watched his reaction.
He looked taken aback, his face contorting in confusion. “I did. I thought—”
“Why would you do that?” you cut him off, your voice rising before you even realized it. “You thought it was okay to make that decision for me? You had no right to do that without telling me!”
“I was just trying to help,” Vernon said, standing up from the couch, his brows furrowing in concern. “They told me you hadn’t reached out yet, and it’s such a great opportunity. I figured—”
“You figured what, Vernon?” you interjected again, frustration boiling over. “That I wasn’t good enough on my own? That I needed your help because I’m failing in my career while you’re off succeeding at everything?”
Vernon looked stunned, but his tone remained calm. “Whoa, hold on—” He walked over to you, gently placing his hands on your arms. “You’re upset, love. I can see that. Let’s calm down for a second, talk about this level-headedly.”
You swatted his hands away, your pulse racing. “Am I not good enough for you, Vernon? Is that what this is about?”
“What? No! Why would you even say that?” Vernon’s voice stayed steady, but the confusion was clear in his eyes. “I love you, just the way you are. I’m not trying to undermine you. I only wanted to support you.”
“Support me? Is that what this is? Why does it feel more like you’re trying to fix me?” you yelled, your heart racing. “What do you want from me, Vernon? To be some perfect version of myself so I can keep up with your success?”
He took a step back, his face contorting with hurt and disbelief. “I never said that. Love, where this is coming from?”
Tears welled up in your eyes, but you blinked them away. “It’s coming from me, Vernon. It’s how I feel every time you do something like this. Like you’re trying to make me better because the version of me that exists right now isn’t enough for you.”
His expression softened, but instead of comfort, it only fueled your frustration. “That’s not true,” he said quietly. “I love you—exactly as you are. I just wanted to give you a push toward something you’re passionate about, something I know you care about.”
“I never asked for your help,” you spat, throwing your hands in the air.
Vernon’s patience finally wore thin. “Why are you looking at this so negatively? We’re in this together. I am not against you.”
“You don’t understand!” you yelled, your voice shaking as you finally voiced what had been festering inside you for months. “I feel inadequate, Vernon. I feel like I’m stuck in one place while everything around me is moving forward. Every time you step in like this, it just reinforces that feeling. I’m fucking sick of it!”
His eyes widened, and he took another step back, stunned by your outburst. “That’s not fair,” he said, voice quieter now, as though the weight of your words had finally hit him. “I am so sorry if I made you feel like that, but I would never do it on purpose. I love you. I’m just trying to help you.”
You turned away, wiping your eyes quickly. “That’s enough. I don’t want to hear it anymore.”
There was a long silence before Vernon spoke again, his voice barely above a whisper. “I love you,” he said, calling your name softly, as if it were a plea.
You heard him, clear as day, but his words felt distant—out of reach, like they didn’t belong to you anymore. Each fight, every misunderstanding, had been a drop in a bucket that now overflowed. The bitterness you felt was like a slow poison, creeping into every corner of your mind.
Vernon sighed heavily, and you heard him walking toward the bedroom, leaving you alone with your spiraling thoughts. The email notification from S Magazine was still open on your phone, but instead of excitement, all you felt was a hollow sense of dread. It should’ve been a dream come true, but now it only felt like a reminder of how lost you were, and how distant you were becoming from the person who loved you most.
A few weeks had passed since the S Magazine argument, but things between you and Vernon hadn’t improved. Every little thing seemed to set off another argument. Tonight, it started with something small—Vernon suggesting you take a break from work and relax. It was his way of showing care, but to you, it felt like a subtle dig at your career.
“I just think you deserve some time to recharge,” he said gently.
You crossed your arms, feeling the frustration bubble up again. “You mean because I’m not working as hard as you are?”
Vernon sighed. “Love, you know that’s not what I said.”
“But it’s what you think, right? I can’t keep up with you.”
His face softened as he took a step closer. “I never said that. You’re amazing, and I wish you could see yourself the way I do.”
“How am I supposed to see myself that way when I’m always falling short?”
A heavy silence filled the room before Vernon spoke again, quieter this time. “I don’t know what else to do. I’ve given you space, I’ve tried to support your dreams, and I’ve never stopped loving you. But I can’t keep walking on eggshells, worrying that everything I say is gonna hurt you.”
“Oh? So you can’t do this anymore? Is that it? Do you want me gone, then?”
“No,” you groaned helplessly, rubbing his hands on his face out of frustration. He pulled you into a tight hug, one that made you want to just melt in his arms. “I love you so much. Please. I want to fix this.”
Your tears welled up, heart aching at how much love was in his voice. But that didn’t change the knot of doubt tangled inside you. “I don’t know what I need anymore,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “But I think this isn’t it.”
Vernon froze for a second before pulling away from the hug and looking at you with widened eyes. “No... no, love, don’t say that.” His voice cracked, raw with emotion. “Please, don’t do this. We can figure it out. We always do.”
Your heart clenched at his words, but the doubt that had consumed you wouldn’t let go. You took his hands off your shoulder. “I’m hurting, Vernon. And I’m hurting you. I don’t know how to stop it. I... I need to let you go.”
“No,” he whispered, cupping your cheeks and pressing his forehead against yours. “You don’t mean that. You can’t. Please... don’t leave me.”
Your tears spilled over, and you looked away, unable to meet his gaze. “I can’t keep doing this. I am so lost and I can’t drag you down with me.”
“Love, please,” he begged, his voice cracking now as desperation took over. “We can work through this. I’ll do anything. Tell me what to do, just... don’t give up on us.”
You could feel the sincerity of his love but the storm inside you was too strong. You shook your head, your tears flowing freely now. “I’m so sorry,” you whispered.
Vernon’s face crumpled, and he dropped to his knees in front of you, holding your hands as if holding on would make you stay. “Please,” he choked out, his voice hoarse. “Please don’t leave me. I need you. I love you.”
His words broke you, shattered whatever strength you had left, but you knew it wasn’t enough. You gently pulled your hands away, your heart breaking as you did. “I love you too, Vernon. But I have to go.”
He stayed on the floor, his hands dropping to his sides, eyes red and pleading as he watched you walk away, unable to stop the finality in your stride.
“And then, we broke up,” you said to Seungcheol, a bitter laugh escaping your lips. “I moved out and just went on with my life. I cut off all forms of communication with him. It was like... I completely erased him.”
“Was it easy?”
“Fuck no. It was hard. So damn hard.” You took a deep breath before continuing. “After we broke up, I just threw myself into work. It didn’t matter how repetitive it was—I needed the distraction. I didn’t pursue S Magazine either. Just the thought of it reminded me of Vernon… of everything we fought about. So, out of sight, out of mind, right?”
Seungcheol watched you quietly, waiting for you to go on.
“Six months passed. I thought I was fine, you know? That I’d moved on.” You swallowed hard, the memory still fresh. “Then, one day, I heard that Vernon was seen on a date with someone. That’s when it hit me. He really was gone.”
Seungcheol’s brows furrowed. “How did that feel?”
You tried to smile, but it felt hollow. “Like everything came crashing down all over again.”
It was Mina who told you. She said Paul had mentioned seeing Vernon out on a date. It occurred to you that you didn’t tell anyone about the breakup—not your parents, not even Mina who had set you up.
For the last six months, you’d convinced yourself that you were fine—that the breakup didn’t devastate you. And you really believed it was the truth, but when someone finally asked about it, you realized just how painful it was. Mina was gentle, reassuring, and she comforted you. But she was also honest with you when she told you it wasn’t fair for Vernon.
“Your personal issues had nothing to do with him,” Mina said, sitting next to you on the edge of your bed. “Yes, it was awful, and I understand why you were so conflicted and stressed out, but none of it was Vernon’s fault.”
“I know, okay? But there was a lot of things I couldn’t say to him. We had a lot of stuff we couldn’t talk about. Now, there’s nothing I can do about it. It’s over. We’re done,” you had replied, frustration and defeat twisting inside you.
Mina looked at you with sympathy, but there was also that firmness in her words. “Exactly. So, let it go. There’s no point dwelling on it now that he seemed to be moving on with his life.”
You had nodded then, but deep down, you weren’t ready to hear it. You weren’t ready to face the fact that Vernon wasn’t coming back, or that he was moving on with someone new.
You pretended to be fine. “He’s allowed to date whoever he likes,” you told yourself, repeating the words over and over like a mantra. But at night, when the world went quiet and your thoughts grew louder, your resolve crumbled. You’d find yourself reaching for your phone, fingers instinctively pulling up Vernon’s profile, then Lee Suji’s. It started innocently enough—a quick check just to see how they were doing—but it quickly turned into a habit. Every night, without fail, you’d scroll through their posts, their stories, their pictures.
It was like they were living the life you’d once imagined for yourself. While you were stuck in your repetitive days—getting up, going to work, coming home—it felt like they were living in a different world. They went to fancy dinners, took weekend trips, and posted photos that made their life look like something out of a dream. We used to do that, you thought bitterly, remembering how you would whisk Vernon away to spontaneous trips to give him a break.
Even the small, intimate details made you bitter—the way he looked at her in pictures, his arm casually draped over her shoulders. He used to do that with me, you thought, jealousy gnawing at you. You pictured them curled up on the couch watching movies, the same way you two had on lazy Sunday mornings. Even her captions reminded you of things he’d say to you, the inside jokes you thought were yours alone.
At first, it was just small pangs of longing—a memory of his laugh, the way he’d hold your hand, the sound of his voice calling your name. But those pangs grew sharper, and soon, they twisted into something more painful, more unbearable. They were happy. You could see it in the way they smiled in every picture, the way they stood so close together. Suji was everything you weren’t—successful, elegant, effortless. The kind of woman who could stand by Vernon’s side without feeling out of place.
And with every post, every photo, you sank deeper into the realization that Suji wasn’t just someone he was dating. She was someone he shared the life you used to live with the man you used to love—still love.
You descended further into sadness and regret, your mind constantly comparing yourself to the perfection that was Lee Suji. No matter how hard you tried to shake it off, the feeling lingered, sinking deeper into your chest. It was suffocating. Every night, as you lay down in bed, your thoughts would spiral, and all you could see was Suji’s perfect smile and the way Vernon looked at her—the way he used to look at you.
Some nights, when memories of how Vernon used to touch you started creeping in your mind, the jealousy surged so intensely it left a bitter taste in your mouth. You could practically feel the ghost of his fingertips brushing against your skin—the way he’d run his hand along your back, how his fingers worked you up expertly, or how his lips traced every curve of your body as if he’d memorized them all. Those moments were so intimate, so second-nature between the two of you, that you didn’t even think about them until now—now that they were gone.
You imagined him doing the same things with Suji. Did he hold her the way he used to hold you? Did he memorize her body, just like he did yours? Did he whisper the same sweet words in her ear, making her feel like she was the center of his world? The thought gnawed at you, eating away at the edges of your sanity. It wasn’t just that they were together—it was the idea that your place in his life had been filled, your role in his heart now occupied by someone else.
You tried to shake it off, telling yourself it didn’t matter. He’s allowed to move on. You’re the one who left. But the logic didn’t lessen the sting. The jealousy would flare up, sharp and sudden, whenever you pictured him lying next to her, their legs tangled under the covers the way yours once were. You could almost see it—their lazy mornings, their heated nights, and the gestures of love and affection. You used to be the one he reached for in the middle of the night, pulling you close as if you were the most important thing in his world.
And now, all of that belonged to someone else.
One day, you bumped into Seungkwan at the supermarket—an unexpected encounter that caught you off guard. After exchanging pleasantries, for some reason, you both ended up sitting at a cafe down the street. The clatter of cups and faint hum of conversation around filled the awkward silence between you.
Seungkwan stirred his coffee absentmindedly, his eyes narrowing slightly before he finally spoke. “Her name is Suji, and she’s a friend of mine.”
You blinked at him, not quite sure where this is going. “Oh... I see.”
He took a sip, eyeing you with frustration in his eyes. “I should’ve introduced them sooner if I’d known you’d dump Vernon anyway.”
Your heart skipped a beat, but you tried to shrug it off with a smirk. “Okay, Boo. I get it, you hate me. There’s no need to say it to my face.”
He set his cup down, the ceramic clinking against the saucer a little too sharply. His gaze didn’t waver, and there was no amusement in his eyes. “You see, that’s the problem with you. You jump to conclusions. You make these one-sided assumptions and cling to them like they’re fact. Right now, you’re assuming I hate you when I never did.”
The casual tone caught you off guard. You frowned. “But why—”
“You had your reasons,” Seungkwan cut you off, his voice firm but not unkind. “You had your own issues. I get that. What I hated wasn’t you. What I hated was what you did.”
You stared at him, the pit in your stomach growing heavier. “Boo...”
“I hated how you broke Vernon to pieces like it was the easiest thing in the world,” he said, his words blunt.
The sting of his words sliced deeper than you expected. You opened your mouth to defend yourself, but your voice comes out small, trembling. “You don’t get to say that to me. It wasn’t easy, and you have no idea what you’re talking about.”
His lips pressed into a thin line. “You’re right. I don’t know everything. I don’t know what it was like for you after the breakup. Maybe you were a mess, too, I don’t know. But I do know what a wreck Vernon was when you left him. Did it ever cross your mind how difficult it would be for him to deal with that?”
You stared down at your coffee, the steam swirling like the thoughts that had been haunting you for months. The truth was, you had thought about it—how much it must’ve hurt Vernon, how hard he was taking it. But you buried it, pushed it away because it was easier than facing how deeply you’d broken him.
“He didn’t deserve it,” Seungkwan continued, his voice softer now, more resigned. “Not when all he ever did was love you, support you, and try to make things better for you. You let your bruised ego push him away—someone who would’ve given anything just to see you happy.”
The words landed heavily, and you felt a lump form in your throat. Deep down, you knew he was right. You’d convinced yourself that walking away was the only option, that you couldn’t keep up with Vernon’s success, that you were dragging him down. But Seungkwan’s words twisted the knife—Vernon didn’t deserve it.
“I thought...” You swallowed hard, struggling to find your voice. “I thought I was doing the right thing. For both of us.”
Seungkwan scoffed, shaking his head. “Exactly. You alone made that choice for both of you, and then left him to pick up the pieces.”
The conversation with Seungkwan lingered in your mind the next day, following you like a shadow as you walked to work. Vernon had consumed your thoughts all night, leaving you tossing and turning, unable to sleep. By the time you reached the office building, you were moving on autopilot, too lost in your head to notice the man exiting through the doors.
You bumped into him, your balance faltering on your high heels as you toppled backward. But before you hit the marble floor, strong arms caught you, steadying you.
“Careful there,” the man said, his voice light.
You glanced up, meeting his gaze. His easy smile widened into something more familiar as recognition flickered in his eyes.
“Well, look who it is.”
Your brows shot up. “Kim Mingyu?”
“Kim Mingyu?” Seungcheol questioned, his brow lifting in mild surprise.
You waved your hand dismissively. “I know. The plot thickens,” you huffed, reaching for the bottle that Seungcheol had tucked away from your reach.
“No,” he said sternly, swatting your hand away.
Running into Mingyu after all these years was unexpected, but surprisingly pleasant. He was as charming as ever, his smile lighting up when he saw you, and after a few minutes of small talk, he’d casually asked if he could take you out to dinner and catch up. You agreed—there was something comforting in reconnecting with an old friend, especially someone who’d been a significant part of your past.
Dinner with Mingyu turned out to be more nostalgic than you expected. Over shared plates of pasta and wine, you talked about your lives, reminiscing over the days when things were simpler but also more uncertain. Mingyu had changed since the last time you’d seen him. The sadness that used to cloud his eyes had lifted, and he seemed lighter—less burdened by the weight of the world.
“So, how are you?” you asked, leaning back in your chair, swirling the wine in your glass.
Mingyu grinned, almost sheepish. “I’m doing better now. So much better.” His voice softened as he continued, “I don’t… disappear randomly anymore. I guess I’m finally where I’m supposed to be. I’m happier. Took me a while, but here I am.”
“That’s great to hear,” you said, smiling. It was nice to see him thriving, a stark contrast to the depression he’d struggled with before.
He met your eyes, his expression was sincere. “I’m gonna be honest, it was the bears.”
You were confused for a second, but then your remembered. “Oh, you mean— No way?”
“Way. Here look.” He pulled his phone out and showed you a picture of bear figurines on a desk with his nameplate on it.
“Are you serious? You still have them?” you asked, genuinely surprised. Mingyu nodded proudly. “Wow. That’s… amazing.”
“The bears were just an excuse,” he admitted, his tone softening. “Truth is, I have you to thank. You sent them back with a kind note. You encouraged me to figure it out, even when I was too wrapped up in my own head. It made a difference.”
You shook your head, feeling a bit bashful. “That note was cheesy.”
He chuckled, the sound full of nostalgia. “Actually, yes, it is kinda cheesy now. But, back then, I was desperate for a helping hand, so... yeah, it meant a lot.”
“Well, you’re welcome. Although, I think it was all you.”
Mingyu smiled, leaning back in his chair. “Maybe. But sometimes, when you’re lost, you need someone to remind you that you’re capable of finding your own way. That’s what you did. But yeah, I guess you’re right. It was always up to me to make the changes.”
You smiled, pride and humility swelling in your chest. You reached for his hand, squeezing it gently. “I’m so proud of you.”
His eyes softened, and just as you began to withdraw your hand, Mingyu caught it, his thumb rubbing gently over your knuckles. “It’s really good to see you after all these years,” he said quietly, his gaze lingering on yours.
The dinner continued at the bar, where you talked some more over wine. You had forgotten how funny Mingyu could be, and now that you were rediscovering it, you couldn’t stop grinning and giggling at his anecdotes. He seemed equally amused by your stories, laughing heartily in a way that made you feel like no time had passed at all.
Before you knew it, you were in the elevator, lips crashing into each other with a kind of desperation. His arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you flush against his chest, while your fingers tangled in his hair, holding onto him for dear life. The soft ding of the elevator doors opening barely registered in your mind as Mingyu led you, still kissing, down the hallway to his suite.
Fumbling with the key card, Mingyu finally managed to open the door, and you stumbled inside together, your lips never parting. The room was dimly lit, and the city lights from outside twinkled beautifully. Mingyu guided you toward the bed, but you broke the kiss, breathless as you looked up at him, your heart racing.
“Is this what you came here for?” you teased, your fingers brushing against his cheek.
He smiled, a little out of breath himself. “I’m here for work, but, this is a welcome distraction.”
You giggled, leaning closer and biting his lower lip. Neither of you was gentle but you weren’t in a rush either. The way Mingyu touched you now was different from the rushed urgency in the elevator—this was tender, deliberate, and fervent all at the same time. Each kiss, each caress, felt like a reunion of sorts, as if you were both rediscovering each other after so much time apart.
You forgot how you managed to take your clothes off, but you knew you were already naked the second Mingyu’s lips found yours again—softer this time, and you melted into the sensation, the warmth of his body against yours was a welcome comfort. He paused, pulling back slightly to look at you, his eyes filled with desire.
“Is this okay?” he asked, his voice low and husky.
You smiled, trailing your fingertips from his nape to his chest that had grown more muscular over the years. “Yes, totally.”
And in the moment, you tossed away every weight pressing down on your chest, letting yourself get lost in the euphoria of Mingyu’s touch.
In the morning, you made your way out of Mingyu’s suite with a pit in your stomach. The walk of shame felt heavier than it should’ve. You scolded yourself for letting things go too far, for taking advantage of someone kind who was blissfully unaware of the mess inside your head.
“I’ve missed you,” he’d mumbled sometime in the night, while you were wrapped around his warm embrace. “I missed you when I left. I missed you all these years. I tried to reach out several times but I knew it would be shameless of me to waltz back into your life without first fixing my own.”
And then, in your silence, he had added, “I’m all fixed now, baby,” just before he drifted off to sleep.
Mingyu probably thought last night meant something, that maybe you could rekindle what you once lost, and start fresh. But that wasn’t the case. You knew deep down you were just lonely, craving the warmth of someone else’s touch to fill the void Vernon had left behind.
When you reached the hotel lobby, you wrapped your coat tighter around yourself, hoping to slip by unnoticed. But as you neared the front desk, you froze. Vernon was standing there, talking to Sally.
Your breath hitched in your throat. For a split second, you considered turning around, making a quick escape, but then Vernon’s eyes caught yours. His face lit up with a polite smile, the kind that he often gave his friends. Your heart sank seeing that, knowing you’d never get to see him smile genuinely at you again.
And just like that, the weight in your chest doubled.
“Vernon,” you greeted as you approached him, forcing your voice to sound steady. “What brings you here?”
He took in your appearance, and you felt a rush of self-consciousness wash over you. You were aware that you didn’t look ready for work, the remnants of last night still clinging to you. “I, uh…” he hesitated, his brow furrowing slightly. “I wanted to talk to you about something, but I didn’t know how to contact you, so I thought I’d drop by instead.”
“What is it?” you asked, trying to keep your tone light, even as your heart raced.
Vernon glanced around for a moment, as if searching for the right words. “Well, I need your new address so I can mail back your stuff that you left at our—well, my apartment.”
“Oh,” you blurted, not registering anything but the slip of his tongue that almost made him say ‘our apartment’. “Okay. Um…”
You stammered for a second, unsure how to proceed. “Actually, what if I just go pick them up myself? That way, I can make sure I don’t leave anything behind.”
Vernon hesitated for a second. “Sure. That would be more convenient.”
“Cool. When can I drop by?”
“When are you free?” he asked back.
You searched his face for any hint of what he was feeling, but his expression remained carefully neutral. You cleared your throat. “How about Friday evening after work? I should be free then.”
“Friday works,” he replied, nodding slowly.
You felt a knot tighten in your stomach at the thought of seeing the apartment again, the place where so many memories lingered like ghosts. “Okay, I will,” you said, trying to sound casual but failing to mask the underlying anxiety in your voice.
He glanced down, shuffling his feet slightly, and for a fleeting moment, you glimpsed the Vernon you once knew—the one who could fill a room with laughter, whose eyes sparkled with genuine warmth. “I hope it won’t be too weird,” he added quietly, breaking the silence again.
You wanted to reassure him, to say that it wouldn’t be weird at all, but the truth was that it would be strange, and painful too. “I’m sure it’ll be fine,” you replied instead, forcing a smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes.
He just nodded and you both fell quiet again. You shifted your weight from one foot to the other, your mind filled with words you wanted to say but couldn’t. Not because you didn’t want to, but because there was no point saying them anymore. “I—uh, I should get going.” you prompted, not wanting to overstay your welcome but reluctant to leave him.
“Right,” he said, his gaze lingering on you for a moment longer than necessary, as if he was searching for something in your eyes. “See you Friday, then.”
“Yeah, see you Friday,” you echoed, walking away.
The prospect of seeing Vernon again was both exhilarating and terrifying. But as you walked away, you reminded yourself that you were both on different paths now, and you should be moving forward instead of dwelling on what could’ve been.
Halfway through your shift, you stepped outside for lunch with your coworkers, the chatter around you was a welcome distraction from the morning’s events. As you returned to the lobby, your heart skipped a beat at the sight of Mingyu waiting for you. He greeted you with a broad smile, holding out a bouquet of vibrant flowers that seemed to brighten the entire space. You were flustered, and you became hyper-aware of the intrigued looks from your coworkers.
“You were gone when I woke up,” he said, his grin unwavering as you led him to a quiet corner of the lobby.
“Yeah, well. I have work,” you replied, motioning to the front desk. “Were you waiting for me?”
Mingyu nodded, still smiling. “Yes. I was wondering if you have time tonight.”
You felt a wave of guilt wash over you, and it clashed with the lingering happiness of the previous night. “Mingyu, I’m sorry. I don’t think we should do this. Last night was amazing, but I’m not really in the right headspace for any kind of commitment right now.”
His smile faltered for just a moment before he shrugged. “Oh, well. That’s a shame then.” You thought he’d be more disappointed but he seemed… indifferent? “I would have loved to try again, but it’s fine if you can’t.”
The sincerity in his voice tugged at your heart. “I’m sorry.”
“I know,” he said, his grin returning like a boomerang. “Does that mean you wouldn’t want to hang out with me again? Even if it’s just… casual?”
You hesitated, weighing the implications. It didn’t sound so bad. “I… would love to. Heh.”
“Great! So, are you free tonight? I’m going to this gala later and I’m looking for a date.”
Caught off guard by the suddenness of his invitation, you blinked, your mind racing. A gala? With Mingyu? You didn’t want to lead him on, but the thought of dressing up, laughing, and being swept away from reality for a few hours was tempting. “Okay? Yeah. Sure.”
Mingyu’s smile widened, infectious and genuine. “Perfect! I’ll pick you up at seven?”
You nodded. “Sounds good.”
That night, you stood in front of the mirror, your silvery satin dress shimmering under the light. It hugged your figure perfectly, something you hadn't paid much attention to in the past six months. As you adjusted a strand of hair, memories of those glamorous nights with Vernon surfaced uninvited—how he’d surprise you with a new dress and an invitation to a posh party, how he’d walk into the venues with his hand on your back, swelling with pride because you looked graceful next to him. And of course, there were those moments when you’d leave those parties early to grab pizza in some greasy diner, laughing in your tux and gown, ignoring the puzzled looks from other diners.
A smile tugged at your lips, recalling the memories that used to warm your heart but now left a bittersweet taste in your mouth.
Your phone buzzed on the nightstand, pulling you out of your thoughts. Mingyu had arrived. With one last glance in the mirror, you grabbed your things and hurried downstairs, finding him by his car. He greeted you with a wide smile, taking your hand and brushing his lips against your knuckles. It was a sweet gesture, and yet, it felt… foreign.
“You look stunning,” he beamed, holding the car door open for you.
As soon as you sat down and he closed the door, you felt a sudden pang in your chest—one that pained both your heart and your soul. The car was nice, but the unfamiliar interior and smell weighed heavily in your chest.
“Are you ready?” Mingyu asked, prompting your attention. You didn’t even notice him getting in, too absorbed in your thoughts.
“Yes,” you replied, forcing a smile that didn’t reach your eyes.
When you reached the venue, the soft murmur of voices and the clinking of champagne glasses surrounded you. Mingyu’s hand rested lightly on your back as he guided you through the sea of guests, his presence warm and reassuring. Yet, despite his charm and ease, your mind kept wandering to the memories of the parties you’d went to with Vernon.
Then, in a moment that seemed to pull you out of the haze, you saw him—Vernon, standing by one of the tall, draped windows, dressed in a sleek black suit. For a second, your breath caught in your throat. He looked just as you remembered, the same effortless grace, the quiet confidence. And…was that a flicker of jealousy in his eyes? You thought it was—his gaze lingering on you and Mingyu as you passed by.
Your heart raced as you tried to gauge his reaction, convinced he was feeling what you thought he felt. But just as quickly as the thought surfaced, Suji appeared beside him. She was stunning—tall, poised, with an air of elegance that made her impossible to miss. You haven’t met her before, but she looked like the kind of woman who had it all together, someone who seemed to float through life with ease. The way she stood next to Vernon with her hand lightly brushing his arm, sent a wave of nausea rolling through you.
Your chest tightened. Why did he have to pick someone who was so much better than you in many ways? Someone who knew exactly what she was passionate about and pursued it. Someone who exuded confidence effortlessly, not only in how she carried herself but in how sure she was in her career, her life, her choices.
You couldn’t stop the flood of comparisons. It was like Suji was standing on this pedestal that you could never quite reach, her brilliance making you feel smaller with every passing second. It was the worst. Vernon had moved on to someone who was everything you couldn’t be, everything you had once dreamed of being but had never managed to become.
Mingyu said something, trying to catch your attention, but his words blurred into the background as you watched Suji laugh at something Vernon said. The sound of her laughter—genuine, light, carefree—echoed in your mind like a mocking reminder of all the things you weren’t.
He’s happy, you realized, the thought hitting you harder than expected.
You turned away, clutching the stem of your champagne glass a little too tightly, forcing yourself to swallow the bitterness rising in your throat. But the smile you gave Mingyu, like everything else that night, didn’t quite reach your eyes.
“Was it a bad idea?” Mingyu asked, cocking an eyebrow at you. “Coming here with me, I mean. Is he not supposed to see us together?”
You followed his gaze and saw that he was looking at Vernon. You shook your head. “No. It’s nothing like that.”
“Are you sure?” He held his jaw and moved it. “What if I get smacked? My jaw still hurts from getting punched by some dude two weeks ago.”
“Why would someone punch you?”
Mingyu grinned naughtily. “Let’s just say I’m a main event everywhere I go and I invite trouble from boyfriends who couldn’t stand seeing their girls fawn over me.”
You smirked, rolling your eyes though you found his cockiness funny. “Well, then you don’t have to worry about your jaw tonight. He has no reason to break it because…” you trailed off, sighing. “Just because.”
“Alright, I’ll take your word for it,” he chimed before excusing himself to talk to someone and leaving you alone for a moment. You glanced around, trying to distract yourself from the heaviness that had been following you all night.
That was when Vernon appeared by your side. “Hey,” he said, his voice casual.
“Hi,” you replied, forcing a smile. “Good to see you. What’s up?”
“I thought I should let you know,” he began, a little hesitant. “I’m selling our apartment.”
You blinked, taken aback by his statement. “Oh. Well, you didn’t have to tell me. It’s yours, you can sell it if you want,” you replied, steadying your voice to hide the fact that your heart was racing.
“I know, but you lived there too, so you should at least know it’s going to someone else now,” he said, flattening his lips together. “It’d be good to grab your things as soon as possible too.”
“Of course! Friday after work, right? We agreed.”
“Yes,” he said before both of your fell silent.
You wanted to say something, anything, to cut through the tension, but everything felt wrong. Then, Vernon added, “I should go.”
You just hummed in response, nodding as he walked away. Mingyu rejoined you then, tugging your elbow gently as he faced you with a mischievous smile.
“Would you care to fill me in on this… situation?” he asked teasingly.
You rolled your eyes but you couldn’t hide the self-deprecating smile on your lips. “It’s a situation, that’s all you have to know.”
Mingyu took the flute from your hand and swapped it with a new one from the busboy who happened to pass by. Before giving it to you, he lifted it and grinned. “How many glasses of champagne before you willingly tell me everything?”
You scoffed. “Even if you give me an entire bottle—” you swiped the glass from his hand. “I’m not gonna tell you.”
“Boohoo. So boring,” he sniggered.
Some time within the night, you’d find yourself in a deserted hallway with Mingyu, making out with your back against the wall while he towered over you. The champagne buzz had reached your head and it didn’t help that you were clinging on a incredibly good-looking man who kept a firm hand on your waist all night. You knew you had to go back to his suite with him, and honestly? You were looking forward to it.
Soon, the party started to wind down. You and Mingyu agreed that it was time to go. You stepped out of the hotel with Mingyu’s coat on to shield you from the cold. His arm around your shoulders helped keep you warm too as you waited for the valet to arrive with his car.
Mingyu’s phone buzzed in his pocket and upon checking it, his brows furrowed darkly. “Damn it, not again.”
“What’s wrong?”
He sighed and then squeezed your shoulder before letting go. “I need to check something. I’ll be right back.”
You nodded and he pressed a soft kiss on your cheek before walking away. As you watched him leave, you tightened his coat around you, looking back at the hotel lobby and wondering if you should go back inside. You were doing that when your gaze caught Vernon’s.
He was standing just a few steps away with his phone pressed on his ear. He saw you looking and nodded as a greeting. You mirrored his greeting, looking away right after and hoping to avoid conversation.
Mingyu came rushing back in no time, his phone pressed to his ear, frustration lining his face. He muttered a quick apology into the receiver before hanging up.
“Is everything okay?” you asked, furrowing your brows.
Mingyu let out a long sigh. “My car won’t start. I was trying to get it sorted with the valet, but it looks like I’m going to be stuck here for a while.”
You glanced at the time on your phone, noting how late it was getting. “Oh no… do you need me to wait with you?”
Mingyu shook his head, his expression still annoyed but softening when he met your eyes. “Nah, you don’t have to. I’ll be fine, but you should head home. I’ll get you a cab.”
Before you could figure out how to respond, Vernon spoke up. “I can give you a ride,” he offered, his voice firm but not insistent. “It’s no trouble.”
You hesitated for a moment, glancing between the two men. Mingyu gave you a hesitant look. “Is that okay with you? Do you know each other?” he asked, though he already knew who Vernon was to you.
“Yes, but I’m not sure,” you replied, surprising yourself with your honesty. “I think I’ll take a cab. I don’t want to impose.”
“Please, I insist,” Vernon said, walking closer. He must have noticed you looking behind him because he added, “You’re not imposing.”
You stared at him for a while, gouging out what he was thinking, but there was no hint of it in the way his expression remained unfazed. Mingyu’s hand on your shoulders prompted your attention.
“If you don’t trust him, let’s just get you a cab,” Mingyu offered, but you could see the glint of mischief in his eyes. He was enjoying this. He probably thought this ‘drama’ was entertaining.
“I’m sure I’m far more trustworthy than any taxi driver,” Vernon interjected.
“Well… if you’re sure,” you mumbled, avoiding Vernon’s gaze. You met Mingyu’s instead, and you could almost see the triumph in his eyes. “What about you?”
“I’ll be fine. Just text me when you get home,” he said, waving goodbye. You could almost say he was excited to see you leave with your ex.
Mingyu gave you a soft kiss before saying goodbye. Still wrapped in Mingyu’s coat, you walked quietly behind Vernon, trying to steady your breathing and hoping he wouldn’t notice that you were nervous.
Vernon opened the passenger door for you, and as you sat down inside his car, a rush of memories hit you all at once. It was familiar, too familiar. Even the scent was engulfing you with nostalgia. This was the first time you’d ever felt like an outsider in such a familiar space.
“Where’s your apartment?”
You quietly typed in your address in the navigator and didn’t say anything else. Vernon seemed to understand your silence and he started driving without a word.
“I didn’t expect to see you tonight.” Vernon was the first to break the silence that had stretched on for about fifteen minutes.
You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. “Same here.”
“How do you know Kim Mingyu?” he asked, his eyes flicking toward you briefly before focusing on the road again. You couldn’t tell what his intentions were, nor could you grasp his emotions when he asked that.
“Why do you care?” you retorted, the words coming out sharper than you’d intended.
He paused before answering, his voice measured. “It’s fine if you don’t want to tell me. I just want you to be careful. I’ve heard things about him. He’s got a bit of a reputation for being… a player.”
You scoffed lightly, turning your gaze out the window. “He’s a friend from college. I’m sure I know him better.”
“If you say so.” There was a moment of hesitation before he added, “Just… take care of yourself. I’m not trying to tell you what to do. You can hang out with anyone you like. I just hope you’d be careful, that’s all.”
Your chest tightened at his concern, but instead of acknowledging it, you let out a small breath. “His car wasn’t yours.”
Vernon glanced at you, clearly puzzled. “What?”
You stayed quiet, refusing to repeat yourself. Soon, the car slowed to a stop in front of your apartment building. You unbuckled your seatbelt, hesitating before reaching for the door handle. Vernon’s hands remained on the steering wheel, his knuckles pale in the dim light.
“Thanks for the ride,” you said, your voice softer than before.
“No problem,” he replied with his eyes straight ahead, avoiding yours.
You opened the door but paused halfway out. There was something in the air between you and it made it impossible to just leave. You needed to ask him, even if you weren’t sure you wanted the answer.
“Vernon,” you started, turning back toward him. His name left your lips before you fully realized what you were about to say. He glanced at you, brows slightly raised in question. “Why didn’t you… why didn’t you fight for us?”
The question hung in the air, almost visible in the thick silence that followed. Vernon blinked, his expression unreadable at first. He shifted in his seat, letting out a slow breath as if he’d been holding it for a long time.
“I did,” he said finally, his voice low, like he was admitting something he hadn’t wanted to. “I did fight for us. But you—” He stopped, choosing his words carefully. “You were already gone. You’d made up your mind.”
You swallowed hard. “But you just let me go.”
Vernon turned his body slightly to face you, his eyes finally locking with yours. “I just let you go? I begged you to stay, did you forget?”
“No, I didn’t. But after that, when the emotional outburst was over, when we were calmer and more rational, why didn’t you try to fight for us?” you asked, your brows furrowed in curiosity.
“Well, why didn’t you?” he asked back, and suddenly, you forgot how to speak. Vernon watched you for a while, taking in your silence and seemingly coming to his own conclusion.
“I didn’t let you go because I wanted to,” he said, his voice rough around the edges. “I let you go because you wanted to. And I thought it was what you needed. And besides, I didn’t know how to fix it. Everything I did felt like it just made things worse. I loved you, but… I didn’t know how to make you stay.”
Something open inside you, something you hadn’t wanted to confront. But hearing him like this now, you had no choice but to accept the truth that it was your fault you broke up. You already knew, you just chose to delude yourself into thinking it was both your fault and his.
The car felt smaller now, with the tension hanging in the air so thick it felt like you were suffocating. You could hear Vernon’s breathing, steady but shallow, and you realized how close you both were.
“I should go,” you whispered, but your body stayed frozen in place. Neither of you moved.
Vernon just nodded, his eyes still searching yours as if he was trying to figure out if there was something more to say. In the dim light, they seemed softer, more vulnerable than you’d remembered. His gaze flicked down to your lips for the briefest of moments before returning to your eyes. It was barely noticeable, but you caught it and your pulse quickened.
You should leave. This wasn’t part of the plan—letting things get tangled up again, letting the past claw its way back. But instead, you stayed rooted in place.
You gathered your thoughts for a proper goodbye. “I’m sorry for everything, Vernon. I wished things had gone differently between us,” you said quietly. Your hand had somehow found its way to his arm, just resting there, the warmth of his arm seeping into your fingers. He looked down at your hand, and then back up at you.
“Too late for that now, isn’t it?” His voice was soft, vulnerable, and the intensity of it made your heart ache.
“I know,” you replied, smiling timidly.
Vernon didn’t say anything and just stared at you. You stared back, trying to understand the meaning behind his gaze and the significance of the slight scowl on his face. You didn’t even notice that you were both leaning in slowly. Only when you felt the warmth of his breath against your cheek did you realize how close you’d gotten. Your breath caught in your throat, your body frozen in place, torn between wanting to close the gap and knowing you shouldn’t.
For a split second, you thought he might kiss you. The thought sent a shockwave of emotion through you—longing, confusion, excitement and fear all at once. You tilted your head ever so slightly, your lips just a breath away from his.
But you stopped yourself. “No,” you whispered, pulling back just enough to break the spell that had momentarily taken hold of both of you. “This isn’t… we shouldn’t.”
“Right,” he said quietly, his voice flat. His jaw clenched, his eyes flicking away from yours as he leaned back into his seat. “I’m sorry.”
“I… I should go,” you repeated, this time you mean it. You pushed the door open and stepped out.
Vernon didn’t stop you. He just nodded, his eyes no longer meeting yours. “Take care of yourself,” he said softly.
You nodded, slipping out of the car, your body still buzzing with the closeness you had almost let happen. As you walked toward your building, you didn’t look back, but you could still feel his presence behind you.
And despite everything, as you climbed the steps to your apartment, a part of you wondered what would happen if you didn’t pull away.
The next day, you met with Mingyu just before he left. The conversation was easy, perfectly civil as if nothing significant had happened. He flashed his usual grin as he told you, “I’m flying back tomorrow.”
“It was fun having you around,” you said, offering him a polite smile.
“You liked the distraction, huh?” he retorted, wiggling his eyebrows.
Chuckling, you hit his chest. “Let me know if you’re ever in town.”
“Are you gonna show me a good time?” he teased, tilting his head as he leaned closer.
You rolled your eyes, a small scoff escaping your lips. “Just go away.”
After a tender kiss on your cheek, Mingyu waved you off, and just like that, he was gone—another fleeting moment in a series of encounters that left you feeling emptier than before.
By the weekend, you felt like dying, literally. It started with a sore throat, then chills, until finally, you found yourself curled up under layers of blankets, sick and miserable—alone in your apartment that felt too quiet, too cold.
You lay there, groggy and disoriented, and all you could think about was how Vernon used to take care of you when you were sick. He’d make you soup, sit by your bedside, and remind you to take your medicine. He knew exactly how to make you feel comforted, even when you couldn’t take care of yourself.
But now, Vernon was gone. You had to handle this on your own. You didn’t realize how much you’d miss being babied until now.
The day dragged on, your body was weak and heavy, and the hours blurred together in a feverish haze. It wasn’t until the afternoon that you heard a knock at your door—insistent, again and again, until it forced you to get up.
You shuffled to the door, body aching with every step. When you opened it, it was Vernon standing on the other side with a suitcase, most probably filled with the last of your things from his place.
“Hi. You didn’t come by yesterday, so I thought I’d just…” he started, but then his eyes took in your pale complexion, the fatigue written all over your face. “...drop your things—are you okay?”
“Peachy,” you managed to quip.
“Here, let’s take you back inside.”
Before you could protest, Vernon took you by the arm and guided you back inside to your bed. You were too weak to argue, your body giving in to the relief of being cared for, if only for a moment. He tucked you in nicely, and you watched as he moved across the room to adjust the lights and your thermostat.
“How long have you been sick like this?” you heard him ask, and although you opened your mouth to speak, you weren’t sure if you answered him out loud before drifting off to sleep.
The next time you woke up, the room was dim, and the afternoon light pouring into the windows slowly faded into the evening. You blinked, disoriented, and realized you were tucked neatly into bed with a fever patch on your forehead. Across from you, Vernon sat on the couch, scrolling through his phone. The sight of him there, in your space, felt surreal—like a piece of the past had materialized in your present.
I thought it was a dream, you pondered as you pushed yourself up with your hands.
When Vernon noticed you stirring, he stood, slipping his phone into his pocket. “Sorry. I was just about to leave,” he said, his voice quiet. “I left some food on the table.”
You sat up slowly, the blankets still tangled around you. “Why are you here?” The question came out softer than you intended, but you needed to know. It didn’t make sense—why he was doing this, why he cared enough to be here now.
Vernon hesitated, his hand hovering by the doorframe. “I just… wanted to make sure you were okay. That’s all.”
You frowned, not buying it. “You didn’t have to. You had no reason to.”
“I couldn’t really leave you like that,” he replied, a tightness in his voice. “I’m just looking out for you. For old time’s sake.”
“For old time’s sake,” you mocked, your words tinged with bitterness. “Right.”
He shifted uncomfortably, his gaze darting away from yours. But the tension in the air had already thickened, pulling at the edges of the conversation. You couldn’t let it go—not this time.
“You’re lying, Vernon,” you said, sitting up straighter now, the exhaustion in your body giving way to something sharper. “You’re not here just for old time’s sake.”
Vernon sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’m not lying.”
“Then why are you here?” you pressed, your voice rising. “Why are you acting like you care? If you don’t—if you don’t love me anymore, then why are you here?”
His jaw clenched, and for a moment, he didn’t answer. The silence stretched, and you could feel your heart pounding in your chest.
“I’m just trying to do the right thing,” he finally said, his tone more strained than before. “It didn’t feel right to see you suffering alone.”
“You’re doing this because you still care,” you shot back. “I can see it. You’re just too stubborn to admit it.”
Vernon’s expression hardened. “It’s not like that.”
“Then what is it?” you demanded, your voice breaking slightly.
His eyes met yours, conflicted, and for a moment, you thought he might say something—something that would change everything. But then he shook his head, stepping back toward the door.
“I’m leaving,” he said quietly, his voice almost a whisper.
A sudden impulse surged through you. You rose to your feet, feeling a little dizzy for standing up too fast. “Do you love her?” you asked, making Vernon stop dead in his tracks.
You stared at his back, chest tightening with frustration and longing. “Vernon, do you love her? Are you gonna marry her?”
“I don’t need to answer that.”
“Why not?” you demanded. “How hard was it? It’s a yes or no answer, Vernon.”
“And it’s not going to help you. If anything, I might end up hurting you more.”
“Why do you care how I feel?”
He turned to face you, frustration etched on his features. “What do you want me to say? That I’m miserable without you? That I can’t stand the thought of you with someone else? Because that’s not the truth and it isn’t fair to any of us.”
“Not fair?” you echoed incredulously. “What’s not fair is you leading me on! Making me think there is something for me to hold on to when there isn’t! That is what’s not fair!”
Vernon took a step closer, his expression darkening. “I’m not leading you on. Just because I care about you as someone who used to be special to me, doesn’t mean I’m trying to get back with you. It isn’t my fault if you’re misinterpreting my actions. ”
You glared at him, heart pounding. “Then answer my question,” you huffed, grabbing him by the collar and staring right into his eyes. “Do you love her?”
Silence enveloped you both, the tension was so thick that you could hear nothing but the heavy breathing from you and Vernon. You both stood there, staring into each other’s souls, tangled in a web of unresolved emotions.
Before you could register what was happening, he reached for you, cupping your face with his hands. And then his lips were on yours, tentative at first, igniting a fire that had long been extinguished. You kissed him back, the familiar warmth washing over you, the taste of him awakening something deep inside you that you thought had faded.
As the kiss deepened, it felt right in a way that nothing else had in months. You were lost in the moment, the world around you blurring until there was nothing but him and you.
But just as quickly as the warmth enveloped you, a cold wave of doubt crashed over your mind. You pulled away panting, uncertainty clouding your thoughts, telling you this shouldn’t be happening.
“Vernon…” you started, but he was already leaning in again, capturing your lips in a desperate kiss that stole the breath from your lungs.
In the haze of passion, you both stumbled toward the bed, and everything fell away—time, space, even the reality of your situation. It felt exhilarating to be with him again, to feel desired and loved, even if just for a moment.
But as morning light filtered through the curtains, reality came crashing back. You blinked awake, groggy and disoriented, the warmth of the bed and the fading memories of the night before slowly coming into focus.
“You’re so beautiful,” Vernon had whispered in your ear last night. “You’ve always been beautiful.”
You forgot how you felt when you heard that from him, but you knew it wasn’t a pleasant feeling. Your heart raced as you turned to the other side of the bed expecting to find it empty—and it was. The space beside you was cold. The warmth that enveloped you last night was now replaced by an aching void. Vernon was gone.
You swung your legs over the side of the bed, heart sinking as memories of the night flooded back—how it felt to be with him, how everything seemed to fall back into place, if only for a fleeting moment. But the bliss faded as quickly as it had come, replaced by a feeling of immense unease.
Rubbing your eyes, you stumbled into the bathroom where the harsh fluorescent light flickered to life. You blinked at your reflection in the mirror, and your heart plummeted at the woman staring back at you—disheveled, hair a mess, eyes filled with confusion and regret.
“What did you do?” you whispered, covering your mouth with your hand as you fell on weakened knees.
Tears pricked at your eyes as you felt a wave of disgust wash over you. The reality and the consequences of your actions came crashing down. You had crossed a line. You made Vernon cheat on his girlfriend all because you couldn’t bear the thought of him moving on. How could you have let this happen? You felt awful, a knot of shame twisting in your gut. You had chased a fleeting feeling, clung to a moment that meant nothing in the grand scheme of things.
And now as you sat on your bathroom floor, sobbing uncontrollably, you couldn’t escape the truth; you had betrayed not just Vernon or Suji, but yourself. Regret filled your mind, and all you could think about was the pain you’d caused everyone and how that would haunt you long after this moment faded into memory.
Seungcheol’s eyes didn’t leave you, the slight furrow on his brows was a clear display of his disappointment toward you.
“I know. I was disappointed in myself too,” you said, letting out a deprecatory laugh. “I was stupid and I regretted it.”
“I’m not disappointed. I can’t possibly judge you for that,” he replied, waving a hand dismissively. “It was just unexpected from you.”
“Oh, so you know me now?”
“You’ve shared three of these stories. I think I have a grasp on what kind of person you are now,” he replied, eyeing you with a hint of curiosity and amusement on his face.
You hummed, tilting your head slightly. “Touche.” You sat up straight, eyeing the bottle in front of Seungcheol. He saw how your eyes twinkled with mischief and as if in defeat, he took the bottle and poured you a glass with a sigh.
“Thanks,” you chimed, taking a sip. “So, since you have a ‘grasp’ of who I am now, how would you have reacted if you were my friend at the time and I told you what I did?”
Seungcheol didn’t miss a beat. “I’d tell you ‘you messed up’.”
You gasped, hands covering your mouth dramatically. “No fucking way.”
The first thing you did after realizing your mistake was take a long bath and cry your eyes out. After that, you called Mina, desperate to talk to someone who would listen. Her reaction was not what you had hoped for, but it was expected.
Anger flickered in her eyes and disappointment shadowed her face. “You messed up really badly this time,” she said, her voice sharp.
“Thanks… That’s exactly what I needed to hear at the lowest point in my entire life,” you replied, your tone biting. It was hard to swallow her judgment despite knowing you had crossed a line.
“No. What the actual fuck was wrong with you?” she hollered, placing her hand over her forehead in frustration as she paced around your apartment. “Why did you let that happen?”
“I don’t know. I was… I was desperate. I thought…” you trailed off, everything felt like an excuse now and you didn’t want to drag this out. “I don’t know what I was thinking. I was so stupid.”
“I’m sorry. I can’t—” She exhaled sharply. “What happened to you? Why did it have to come to this?”
You buried your face in your hands. “I don’t know.”
Mina must have sensed your frustration then, the weight of your actions pressing heavily on your chest. She sat next to you and hugged you, rubbing your back as she let you cry your heart out once again.
Later that week, Vernon asked to meet, and despite the turmoil churning in your gut, you agreed. As you sat across from him in the café, you couldn’t look him in the eyes. The quiet stretched on, both of you looking miserable, drowning in the weight of what had happened.
“I—I just wanted to say that what happened… it was a mistake,” Vernon finally said, his eyes avoiding yours. “I’m sorry. It’s my fault.”
His apology echoed in your mind. “It’s not just your fault, Vernon,” you replied, your voice trembling slightly. “You can blame me too. I pushed you into it. I should’ve just let you leave.”
“Still, it was me who—”
“I hope you’re okay,” you said, cutting him off. “I hope this doesn’t ruin what you have with Suji.”
“I hope so too,” he muttered, fiddling with his fingers. “I couldn't tell you I love her because we just started dating and I haven't fallen so deep in love with her yet. But I know for sure that I want things to work out with her. I like her a lot.”
His admission made your heart clench, not in pain but in relief. You were relieved to know he was serious about Suji, and that he’d try to make things work. For some reason, it gave you some sort of reassurance. It was odd because you didn’t know why you felt that way when you should be depressed over the fact that he really loved Suji and would not pick you over her despite what had happened between you.
“I wish you luck, Vernon.”
He smiled at you—one that was filled with affection, not for a lover but for a really dear friend. “Good luck to you too. I hope you find your own happiness soon.”
“You and me both,” you chimed.
You both agreed to move on properly, to face the consequences of your actions and try to find closure. As you parted ways for what felt like the final time, a heaviness settled in your chest, but it was a weight you knew you had to bear alone.
In the days that followed, you found yourself sinking into loneliness, drowning in your own thoughts. You replayed the events over and over, dissecting each moment until you could barely remember what had drawn you to Vernon in the first place.
It was in this solitude that you realized it wasn’t Vernon that you wanted. You didn’t long for him or the comfort of his presence. You were just insecure. You wanted to prove to yourself that you were valued, loved, and that you were not inferior to anyone. You didn't love him anymore; your ego was just bruised. The connection you thought you missed was really just a desperate need for validation, a desire to reclaim a part of yourself that you felt had been lost.
The ache in your chest began to morph into something different—something like a resolution. You could rebuild, not just from the ashes of your mistakes but from the ashes of who you had thought you were.
About two weeks later, you found yourself unexpectedly face-to-face with Suji at a library. As you watched her interact with children, you realized why Vernon was so taken by her. She really was amazing, not just because she was beautiful and radiant, but because she was soft-spoken, kind, and loveable. Shame washed over you, and you felt small in her presence, aware of the hurt you had caused her.
“Excuse me,” you managed to say while she was picking up the books the children had left behind. She glanced at you, eyebrows raised curiously.
You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. “I don’t know if you know me, but there’s something I need to tell you.”
“It’s okay,” she replied briskly, a polite smile playing on her lips. But the warmth didn’t reach her eyes; instead, you saw animosity in them. “I already know. Vernon told me.”
You bit your lower lip, feeling even smaller under her unwavering gaze. “I just wanna say I’m sorry. It was my fault.”
“It is, but it was also Vernon’s. You were both foolish,” she said, still with a smile but her words were blunt.
“I’m really sorry,” you repeated, your voice a whisper. You could feel your heart pounding, desperate for her understanding. “I don't know what else to say. I have no excuse.”
“Vernon and I are trying to fix things. We both intend to make it work, despite what happened.” Her expression hardened. “And I’m going to be honest: I don’t like you. I don’t really hate you either, but I hope we never have to see each other again.”
“Suji, I—”
“If we can’t avoid it, let’s just pretend we don’t know each other. I hope you’d do me that favor.”
You nodded, the sting of her words cutting deep. “Of course. I just want you to be happy.”
“That includes Vernon. I don’t want you around us—around him.” She stepped closer, her face was calm but you could see the pain in her eyes. “It might sound childish, but this is the only way I’ll feel at ease.”
“Vernon is a good man. He would never hurt you. I—”
“I’m sure he wouldn’t,” she shot back, her voice steady. “But when it comes to the woman he loved so dearly in the past, I think we both know what could happen. It’s difficult, you know? To compete with the ghost of the past you and Vernon had. He may be over it now, but that didn’t mean he’d completely erased you from his life.”
You clenched your fists at your sides, trying to contain the overwhelming emotions. “I don’t wanna come between you two.”
“Do you still love him? Do you still want him back?” she pressed, her gaze unflinching.
“No. Not anymore,” you said and you were surprised because it didn’t feel like a life. In fact, it felt liberating to finally say it out loud.
“Then that’s good enough for me,” she replied, her voice softening. “Just stay away from us. Please.”
“Please forgive him,” you pleaded, desperation creeping in. “He made mistakes, but he’s still—”
“We’ll solve our own issues,” she interrupted again, her tone final. “And you’re in no position to ask me for any favors.”
You took a step back. “I know. I’m really sorry. I’m gonna… go.”
As you turned to leave, you could feel her gaze burning into your back. You wished you could have said something more in apology, but you were content with the conversation too.
“So, here I am,” you said quietly to Seungcheol. “A promotion was offered at work and I took it. I had to pack my bags and work halfway across the country, but that was the best part of it. I was able to leave. I couldn’t stay there. I needed a reset. Far away from the life I was now too ashamed to live”
There was a long pause, the air between you feeling lighter now, as if confessing this truth had somehow eased the burden on your shoulders.
“And now?” Seungcheol asked gently. “How do you feel about it after all this time has passed?”
You thought about it for a moment, really letting yourself feel the emptiness where all that regret used to sit. But instead of pain, there was something else there now. Something calmer. Softer.
“Now?” You sighed, the answer finally clear. “Now, I think I’m ready to move on. Not from Vernon, but from everything. From needing someone else to tell me I’m enough.”
You leaned back in your chair, feeling lighter than you had in months—maybe even years. “I’m okay with being on my own now. All this time away gave me time to rediscover myself.”
Seungcheol’s smile was small but sincere. “That’s the most important thing, isn’t it?”
You nodded. “Yeah. I think it is.”
For the first time in a long time, the silence that followed didn’t feel heavy or oppressive. It felt like peace. And for the first time, you let yourself believe it. You were free. Finally, truly free.
[fin]
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You were right when you said we should enjoy Wonwoo's part because Vernon's literally broke my heart into pieces. Now I have get a reality check again. You did such a good job writing this part, I might need 3 days to function normally again HAHAHHA
you and me both. lmao i'm dealing with this heartbreak by writing coups' part right away
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