#(NO WE DO NOT KNOW WHO SHE WAS PORTRAYING THERE)

[thinemoonshine]

୨୧ 𝓼𝐮𝐥𝐤𝐲 𝓼𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐲! ୨୧

—⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ where enhypen messed up and has to turn (y/n)’s frown upside down…or they get the unfathomable horror: the silent treatment

enhypen hyung line x fem!enhypen 8th member content(s): light angst, dramatic members, clingy lovey enha, sunghoon gets bitten, (y/n) being doted on, fluffity fluff, they are so lovesick boys coded here type: imagines

note: this work is based off of ૮꒰ྀིthis꒱ྀིა ask! i tried to make it ot7 but i cannot, for the life of me, imagine (y/n) arguing with the maknae line. so sorry about that!! </3

⋆˙𐙚 L.HEESEUNG 𐙚˙⋆

heeseung's large doe eyes shift towards (y/n) from the TV screen much too frequently as they both sit at opposite sides of the couch. their distance is only a leg's length away but the frostiness in which (y/n) portrays makes it seem as if a single inch will give him frostbite.

who knew that eating the last ice cream could create such catastrophic casualty?

heeseung. heeseung knew. and yet he still did it.

it was a fair deal, the eight each get their own flavour of ice cream so that no arguments would ensue but (y/n), unlike the others, had to leave hers because she had a schedule—excited to have a cold, refreshing dessert after coming back.

but lo and behold, she comes back to a freezing, barren freezer—much like her stomach.

the culprit: lee heeseung himself, who claims that he assumed that (y/n) didn't wanna eat it.

and what did that get him?

pure, utter silent wrath—which he finds much, much scarier than the loud.

"(y/n)..." heeseung tries for the fifth time in the past 15 minutes and still, she's managed to act as if he isn't there. never before has she been so upset and it daunts him. how long is she gonna stay like this? it's only been minutes and he's already feeling like he's about to perish from her frigidity. "(y/n), i'm sorry. i'll buy you more! what ever type you want, as much as you want!"

now that gets him a reaction—although, different than what he expected.

she turns to him and he's just about to smile only for the corners of his lips to drop at the sight of her glare.

"you think that's gonna fix everything? of course, we can buy some more, that's obvious! that's not the problem! the problem here is you eating my food!" (y/n) seethes, brows knit and eyes sharpened. "do you know how exhausted i was after my schedule? i was so excited to go home and rest with my cold sweet snack to freshen me up but then suddenly, GONE."

heeseung cowers, hands gathered on his lap as his big, round eyes widen guiltily, brows droopy and bottom lip subtly sticking out. "i'm sorry...i just thought that you didn't want it anymore..."

the sound of her exasperated sigh only increases the weight in his chest but it becomes ten times worse when he sees her slumping back against the couch to not speak to him again.

no no no no, she was already talking to him! now, it's just gonna get worse.

"i should've asked first and i should've told you that i ate your ice cream," heeseung quickly says, fully determined to gain her forgiveness despite being just slightly prideful before.

he bites his lip, practically chewing on it but then perks when he sees her glancing at him. mustering up his courage, he scoots a little closer and feels hopeful when she doesn't seem to mind. "and! and i'll let you do yaja time for the whole day if i ever do something like this again."

now that, she likes. turning her head slowly with her crossed arms loosening, a small cheeky smile appears and gosh, does the sight of it lightens him so much.

"no take backs," she confirms to which he nods at with a tight lip grin of surrender but the moment she cheers and wraps her arms around him, he knows he'll let her have yaja time anytime if she only just asks.

heeeseung chuckles against her ear as he reciprocates the embrace before she pulls away to lie on his lap to which he takes advantage of to play with her hair. he knows how much the gesture relaxes her—hoping that it'd be enough to rid off her exhaustion.

⋆˙𐙚 P.JONGSEONG 𐙚˙⋆

this is it. this is the end for him.

never ever had he ever thought the day would come—the day that (y/n) and him argue.

it’s not as dramatic as he makes it seem but it sure is for him considering how he and (y/n) are always on the same page. so to have them turning the other way from each other is disastrous.

this morning, the two were making breakfast together alongside sunghoon and riki after they lost a game. jay and (y/n) were in the kitchen while riki and sunghoon were getting the stuff from the nearby mart.

all (y/n) wanted was to wash the dishes but jay, ever so gentlemanly jay, insisted that he do the dirty work while she just get the tools ready.

call it morning moodiness or whatever, but (y/n) was not having it.

“what’s wrong with me doing the dishes?” (y/n) asked, brows knit with slight irritation.

“nothing. it’s just better for me to do it while you get the stuff for cooking ready,” jay answered.

(y/n) crossed her arms. “and why is it better for you to do it? oh, so apparently i’m bad at cleaning now.”

“i never said that!” the other denied, a frown present as well.

“then let me do what i wanna do,” the girl adamantly said to which jay sighed heavily at followed with a frustrated, “can’t you just stop the attitude?”

and that was when the horrible, bone-eating, mind plaguing, day-nightmare started: the silent treatment.

it’s afternoon now and jay can’t seem to find (y/n) anywhere around him—like he’s some sort of personal virus to her. the clothes he’s folding has never felt more heavier and the stacks he’s made are messy, barely proper squares of folded clothing.

usually, (y/n) would be around to accompany him—making hot drinks and bringing snacks to feed him since he has to keep his hands clean. he’d be sitting with soft hums leaving him every once in a while as she talks his ears off.

and sometimes, when there aren’t any undergarments in the basket, (y/n) helps with folding too—undoubtedly making even prettier stacks to which jay is both proud and jealous of.

her absence is palpable. and the silence is anything but tranquil—stifling and ridiculing him for being such a coward.

beep beep beep beep!

his head snaps towards the door at the sound of their automated door lock. are the members home already?

and in comes a—no, the member: (y/n).

she nearly pauses in her tracks when she steps into the living room, inevitably making eye contact with jongseong but she’s quick to feign indifference—and it hurts. little does she know that he feels the same if not more.

“…where are the rest?” jay initiates a conversation and (y/n), with her back on him as she puts down her bag on the counter, subtly loosens up. her stiff shoulders relax just at the mere sound of his voice.

“they’re filming some tiktok challenge. didn’t feel like joining,” (y/n) answers and jay intends to ask more about it but is interrupted by her swift “i’m sorry.”

his eyes widen subtly, brows raise and he watches as she slowly turns to face him with her hands pressed on the counter she leans against.

“i know you were just trying to give me the easy work by doing the dishes. i shouldn’t have been so worked up,” she apologizes sincerely, tone heavy with remorse and jay smiles softly at that.

then, he puts away the towel he’s holding to spread his arms wide open—tender gaze melting her significantly so and she approaches with airy steps before being pulled by jay into him.

jay sighs as he buries his face into her hair while his fingers comb through comfortingly. his other arm is securely wrapped around her waist as she reciprocates the hug.

“don’t. don’t apologize. after all, i should’ve let you do what you wanted,” jay assures as he leans back slightly so (y/n) can comfortably rest against him—his arms practically engulfing her whole into his chest and he can’t help but feel a flutter.

it feels…nice to just hold her close like this. to feel her warmth, to hear her gentle breathing, to be reciprocated so endearingly and just be so uncritically affectionate of one another.

he smiles at that as he feels the life being rekindled in his soul and spirit, arms tightening around her.

“…i don’t feel like doing the dishes now, though.”

“we’ll dump it on the rest.”

⋆˙𐙚 S.JAEYUN 𐙚˙⋆

he’s never felt such anguish before. sure, this situation’s reminiscent to when the members cast him aside for his birthday surprise but that ended on a happy note.

this? this he doesn’t know how it’s going to end.

he didn’t mean to, he swears. he just got o too competitive with the game that he ended up neglecting (y/n)—pushing her away when she wanted to share some insight because he thinks his way is the best.

sure, he got his victory, but at what cost? in the end, it still feels like he lost.

they’re now hanging at (y/n)’s apartment during their once in a while visits considering she lives separately. but the hostess herself isn’t around. she’s locked in her room ‘to sleep’, she said, but jake’s not buying it.

he knows she’s probably mad at him for this morning’s en-o’clock recording and is refusing to even look at him. the thought makes him nervously gnaw on his bottom lip as he distractedly stares at the others playing with the jenga block.

cheers and groans erupt in the room when the build falls and jake stands on his feet, unable to take the tension in his form and the loud noises in his head, and heads to the hallway where (y/n)’s room and bathroom are at.

away from the members’ eyes, he then softly knocks at her door and her instant, “who is it?” solidifies his theory of her being fully awake and avoiding him.

his brows knit and tilt at the ends, dejection growing, before he answers. “it’s…jake.”

a pregnant pause before the door swings open to reveal (y/n) who seems rather indifferent, a complete juxtaposition from the other with shifty, nervous puppy eyes that plead for entry.

her stepping aside and widening the gap of the door mean permit to which he quickly yet gingerly accepts.

she hasn’t even closed the door yet before he instantly spouts, “i’m sorry.”

the door clicks behind her and she leans against it to face jake who’s sitting so politely at the edge of her bed��legs pressed together, back straight and hands on his lap as he looks up at her through long overgrown bangs.

“i’m sorry, (y/n). i-i didn’t mean to…” is all he says before lowering his head and clenching his fists.

the sight both warms and aches her to which she reacts with a sigh—instantly alarming the other who snaps his head back up to see her approaching. he tenses, ready to apologize again, ready to mention the full details on how he shouldn’t have been so hard-headed and selfish and—

oh.

his eyes shut unconsciously when her fingers gently rake his hair back to free his beautiful eyes and forehead. he nearly forgets the words in his head from the pure relief and delight that fills him.

lashes flutter as he slowly opens his eyes back to sweetly gaze up at (y/n) with a look she truly believes to be criminal with how overwhelmingly adorable it is—puppy eyes searching hers for comfort, cheeks glowy and lips pouty.

he makes her want to physically squeeze him until he pops!

so she does—as much as she can, anyways.

hands cup his pretty face as she squeezes just enough to put pressure and make his lips stick out like a pufferfish’s.

a little confused “hm?” sounds from jake as he furrows but the sight of the smile on her face instantly evokes his own—breaking into a wide grin with the corners of his lips curling as he stays between her palms practically buzzing with glee.

“just don’t do that again,” (y/n) warns and he nods vigorously before shutting his eyes again to fully melt into her hands.

if only she knew how close he was to just bawling his eyes out if she rejected his apology. he can’t imagine living without her attention like this.

⋆˙𐙚 P.SUNGHOON 𐙚˙⋆

ice and ice. truly ice ice baby—but with a negative connotation.

sunghoon and (y/n) almost never argue, the two always having similar outlooks or just accepting the other but this time, that wasn’t the case.

the rarer the arguments mean the heavier they are whenever it happens. and it’s so painfully blatant because everyone can sense and see the tension that stretches between sunghoon and (y/n).

one slight pull and it might just snap!

it’s hard to miss, of course. the way his eyes narrow at her and the way her gaze shifts to a glare, the way she steers clear of his space just as he does to her and the most obvious one of all: he doesn’t dote on her like how he usually would.

sunghoon, self-proclaimed (y/n)’s big brother, would always show his affections in one way or another. whether by making sure she’s fed, or by doing his favourite habit of putting his whole hand on top of her head—fingers sprawled and all as his palm covers her crown.

it doesn’t even have to be a pat or anything—just grabbing her scalp and voila! that’s it.

so the fact that he hasn’t done it at all today, is a dead giveaway on their argument.

and so obviously, the members had to send them both on grocery duty. sure, they all went together but they’re so adamant in asking sunghoon and (y/n) to search for some specific stuff on the list together.

“what type of sauce do they want again?” (y/n) asks monotonously, not even bothered to look at sunghoon while stands a few steps away with his hands in his jacket’s pockets.

he pulls the list out. “***** brand.”

the girl hums and chooses it before passing it to the other without making a single eye contact. sunghoon, obviously, returns the favour.

and this routine goes on and on until eventually, sunghoon’s had enough.

he can’t do this. not anymore. not another second of this torture. he feels as if his heart is being torn apart before being harshly shredded to pieces and finally being blended into a juice of depression.

seeing (y/n) so unfeeling around him is so foreign. he hates it. he doesn’t want her hating him. no, that’s the last thing he wants. he can’t digest that.

it’s clear when it starts bothering him because sunghoon’s beginning to glance at her every once in a while. when previously all he wanted was to ignore and be ignored, now all he wants is to see and be seen.

whenever (y/n) puts stuff in the trolley, his eyes follow her every movement. when she asks him for the things on the list, he answers with his gaze set on her—hoping she’ll turn away from the shelf and onto him. and when he sees her favourite snacks, he quietly yet excruciatingly slowly puts it in the cart with a silent plea for her to notice.

and she does. but she doesn’t comment.

still, she isn’t heartless. so she asks, “we finished the list. you want anything else?”

“for you to forgive me,” sunghoon murmurs but the emptiness of the isle they’re in amplifies it.

she finally looks at him, surprised, and it’s doubled when she sees him already looking at her.

he wears a solemn yet sad mien. the bobs of his adam apple expose the vulnerability he feels and (y/n) lets out a deep breath before walking towards him.

“i’m sorry,” he says genuinely and his hand twitches by his side as he restrains from reaching out to pat her head.

it’s not overlooked by the other however, and instead of verbally responding to his apology, she instead cups his hand in both of hers—his flinching at the sudden hold—before she lifts it up to put it on her crown.

sunghoon breaks into a slow grin—eyes upturning and one corner of his lips lifting higher than the other into an endearing smirk—before he ruffles her hair, only to fix it back after.

he chuckles from relief but it’s cut short by a brief grunt at the sudden chomp on his arm. his eyes are wide and lips agape as he stares at (y/n) who’s latched her teeth onto his arm that’s raised to caress her head.

he blinks. she blinks back before slowly pulling away.

“forgiveness tax.”

and all he can do is shake his head with an amused scoff at her absurdity.

“i guess i deserve that.”

[monamipencil]

wow, this was one hell of a ride

— plot; my god, this was so good and wrapped up things beautifully. i love how they both fell in love with each other in different ways. like so different and maybe the timings were off but oh my god, they both love each other the same. the scene with drunk oc, oh my fucking god. i can't believe how beautifully you portrayed such intense emotions and events. your talent?? omfg. and oh pls, your smut is literally the best. and i also love that you had the courage to not only write this but share this. i respect that so much and esp that this fic was a healing piece for you. i hope you know that this has been as healing for me too. and ik u said these characters are not meant to be likeable but they're so realistic and raw that i just can't help but like them. and unless and until you've been there or witness someone close to you act like this, you won't understand just how painful and uncontrollable it is. i love this so much, and i will forever remember this story <3

— oc; fuck wonwoo, i want HER. oh god, she's so adorable and sweet? i literally love your descriptions of her, they were simply the best. and god, she's so naive as well, easily believing those around her, wearing her heart on her sleeve and not being afraid to feel things? that is braveness to me. such a beautiful portrayal of raw human emotions and flaws. that one para describing her made me melt. im afraid i wont find characters as realistic as this anywhere else. her being hopelessly in love with wonwoo from the very first fucking hits home too. the doubts, her still wanting to believe in him, being down bad for him. and i can see glimpses of you in her lol, i just love her characterization so much.

— wonwoo; the most deserved redemption. i was very doubtful on how he was gonna achieve her forgiveness, but he fucking proved himself. where do i find this man irl. and the para describing him realising his feelings? oh fuck. it was so beautiful. and im glad that he was the one for her. his character is beautifully portrayed too. when he confessed his feelings?? and the way he was trying to make it up even though he was still cocky lmao. and him and his nerdy glasses and zero social skills in the new school, lol. the fact he put down his walls for her and allowed her to see him for his true self 😣 god, his possessiveness too? that makes him so fucking real. it's so hot in fiction, but irl, i'd rather die lmao. but oh yes, wonwoo fucking won me over in this one and really got his green card.

— seokmin; oh my god. ok so, controversial opinion maybe, but i feel sorry for him. well yes, he did try to manipulate her. which is very very bad, but🧍‍♀️i understand where his feelings root from. i dont support the way he let his emotions control him but i dont find fault with the feelings themselves. and i wish nothing but the best for him. him saying that he was in love with her the same way she was with wonwoo fucking hurt. and the fact they've been friends for longer, i wanna cry. sometimes, ppl just do stupid, bad things but that doesn't mean they're bad. and i cannot and will not hate him.

— the friends; i rly rly love that we explored more friendship dynamics in this part!! i absolutely loved all of them and their scenes lol. whether it was leigh andd jeonghan flirting or them all agreeing wonwoo is an asshole. and they're realistic as well!! them not believing her when she said he has changed and giving her a side-eye, i got irl flashbacks lmao. they're so lovely.

— annotations;

This past week was filled with more joy than you’ve had in a long time. 

ngl, that must feel so relieving 

“Oh please, Kalia. You act like I didn’t see you and Mingyu practically eating each other's faces off in the library yesterday, ” June huffs, shooting daggers at the both of them while peeling away the pistachio shells for her drunken boyfriend. 

I love the friend group

It seemed so simple for your friends to find someone who truly loved them, and wasn’t afraid to show it. 

ouch

Reminders of all your missed opportunities left a bitter taste in your mouth, the alcohol on your tongue sweet in comparison.

tsk tsk, that must fucking hurt

“I thought you were dating Wownoo?” Lynne asks, and you couldn’t help but laugh at your pitiful situation. 

uh…… no. fuck all of them think that 

There was guilt gnawing at your insides. You didn’t want this to be one of those talks where you delve into the intricacies of your peculiar friendship with Wonwoo. 

aww, poor girl. i feel so bad for her

There's a moment of silence amongst the rest of your friends at the table, before they all burst out laughing before repeating Leigh’s words.  “Wonwoo’s an asshole!” They all say wholeheartedly in unison. 

Lmfao asdrfsgzkfts

The reassurance that your friends had given you should’ve been worth the pain of cutting Wonwoo off.

Friends like this >>>

 No matter how distracted you attempt to make yourself, he still floods your every waking thought. 

sigh, i dont blame her

“Well, there’s only one thing we can do,” he shakes his head, reaching for the remote on the coffee table. We’re going to binge-watch this thing until you're caught up.” 

he’s adorable but i have no fucking clue what his intentions are

“You left your phone on the counter, by the way,” He mentions before placing it on the coffee table. 

…. nvm

Not used to the proximity between you and him, you're thankful the increased volume drowned out the pitter-patter of your heartbeat. 

deja vu is hitting hard

“Yeah, I know, but there’s a bunch of attractive villains, like Killmonger from Black Panther,” you shrug, but Seokmin looks at you like you had just insulted his entire bloodline with your statement. 

… i see a resemblance irl, honey. 

Heat radiated off your face, and your timid expression would’ve been visible if Seokmin’s back wasn’t facing you. You hadn’t realized how well Seokmin knew you.

i am very uncomfy rn

Had you known that ignoring him would lead to an outburst of unrelenting anger, you wouldn’t have done so in the first place. Even when this cologne hangs in the still air of your apartment, you yearn for his presence. Even when you unleashed your fury at him, kicking him out with no remorse, you still yearn for his touch. 

im .. this is so .. wow .. no words .. 

Horrified by the sight of your phone screen, you don’t remember blocking him in the first place. Wracking your brain, you’re trying to think of all the instances where you had been drunk or high enough to even do so, but nothing comes to mind. If you didn’t block him, then who did? 

gurl, asdfghjkl SEOKMIN DID 

Wonwoo’s text brings a swell of comfort within you. As much as you hate what he did, you could never bring yourself to hate him. 

true, so true

There’s deliberate fervour behind your actions, causing Seokmin to groan in surprise. Rough palms gripping your waist, he matches your energy. 

this was lowkey so hot

Practically jumping out of his lap, you unlock your phone as if you weren’t just making out with Seokmin, to discover yet another text from Wonwoo. 

smh, girl at least be subtle abt it

Only a fool would be swooning over his visible cry out for attention, and a fool you were.  Wonwoo’s claws have sunk so deep into you, that you can’t even kiss someone without him interrupting. It's like he knew what you were doing without even seeing you. 

asdfghjkl, she’s down bad 

The burn at the back of your throat intensified as awareness sunk into your whole being. Seokmin was under the guise of a doting friend while you were in your feelings for Wonwoo. Pretending to be your knight in shining armour while you were in a vulnerable state. How could you be so naive? 

ouch, that fucking hurts though i saw it coming miles away

“I hope so, considering you had gone on my phone behind my back and blocked his contact.” 

FUCKING POP OFFFFF, OOHHH she’s fiesty omgggg

“I may be in love with you just as much as you are with Wonwoo, but at least I’m not dumb enough to go back to someone who obviously doesn’t give a shit about me. Your life will get easier when you stop being an idiot and start seeing how bad he is for you.” 

oh fuck, nvm. I feel bad for him wtf omg. I cannot with this rollercoaster of emotions. Honestly, good for seokmin. 

Everything would be so simple if it were Seokmin instead, and you acknowledge that. But your heart didn’t seek out his touch the way it did with Wonwoo. 

sigh, this is so complicated but so realistic. a punch in the gut

Seokmin let his feelings get in the way of what could’ve been the start of something good. If only he hadn’t done what he did, maybe if he had just given you more time to heal, things between the two of you would be different. Although the friendship with Seokmin had turned sour, he still deserves someone who would love him unconditionally, it just wasn’t you. 

so so true. god damn, these characters are so humane and realistic, i gotta give it to you. and truly wish the best for seokmin

You also cannot deny how much you still miss him. 

i miss him too (a man i have never met in my life 😔)

[darling <3: you were right about seokmin]

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH HE SAVED HER DARLING ON HIS PHONE RAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

[darling <3: 👍] 

Lmfaoooo, im sorry but this is so funny to me

Leigh giggles at how Jeonghan takes every opportunity to flirt with him but agrees to his wager anyway.  “What does a kiss have to do with any of this?”  “Nothing, I just wanted to give you one,” Jeonghan shrugs. 

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH—ok i’ll stop now, they’re so cute

“Maybe if you hadn’t been such a manipulative bitch, she wouldn’t have come back running to me,” Wonwoo smirks, the realization in Seokmin’s eyes is nothing but confirmation that he struck a nerve. 

you idiot, omfg i did not like his sentence phrashing

No one deserves to have you as much as he did. 

oh rly? well you have A LOT to prove abt that

The feathery breath you let out almost causes Wonwoo to forget what he’s meant to be doing. Enamoured by your soft pink lips and how the heat on your cheeks intensifies with each passing moment. He simply can’t take his eyes off you. 

im just a man 🧍‍♀️

With his experience, it doesn’t take much for you to be perched right back into his palm. You’re a woman after all.

istfg, wonwoo, his self confidence is through the roof. I wish i had 1/10th of it lol

He chuckles at your meek countenance, you’ve always been the type to procrastinate. 

i am, at the moment, procrastinating :))

Allowing himself to take a glance at you before interlocking his fingers with yours, rubbing soothing circles along your delicate skin.

GRRRR RAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH sigh, i love them

Shoulders stiffening at the sight, Wonwoo really can’t stay. He might even combust into a million pieces before he can get to his car. 

you horn dog 🫵

 As you turn around, Wonwoo almost lets out a strained groan. He had been lucky enough to cover it up with a cough. 

lmfaooo

A rough palm is placed delicately against the exposed skin of your waist. You’re so warm. Wonwoo’s brain short circuits and he almost forgets what he’s actually meant to do. 

im actually going feral atp

Sensitive to the sad things in life yet ardent towards the things you are passionate about. You have always been a softer soul, a soul that feels everything without a care in the world. At the same time, you are a whirlwind of emotions, and different colours of sensibilities, it’s your greatest strength but also your weakness. Wonwoo admires that about you. Never afraid to feel, never afraid to wear your heart on your sleeve. Everything he isn't. 

ok brb im gonna cry–she’s so sweet and so naive omggg. i love her so much

Falling in love with you was gradual. 

im gonna start bawling, omfgggggg ahhhhh

In the same way, the tides along the shore would slowly pull the sand back into the ocean. In the same way, the seasons changed from summer to winter. Wonwoo’s love for you is like autumn leaves. Shades of green morph into the familiar, comforting, yellow, red, and brown. Their descent from their branches slowed, dwindling with the breeze before they ultimately hit the ground. Before he knew it, autumn had begun.  Before he knew it, he was in love. 

this is so beautiful, the differences between how they fell for each other ahhh 🤌

Wonwoo ached to see you again. To be close to you, with your scent filling his nostrils, your warmth engulfing him, he couldn’t stop thinking about you.

wow, someone’s in love

“Like? I don’t just like her. I’m in love with her.” 

there it is

“Okay, you’ve convinced me, but you better not fuck it up. I won’t punch you but I know Kalia would,” Mingyu shrugs, and he’s right. Kalia would beat him up. 

i love the friend grp

“Seems like everyone does. Seokmin cares a little too much,” Wonwoo huffs, thinking back to what you had told him the last time he saw you. 

lmao, i think he’s in love with seokmin than her lmao. he keeps mentioning him even in his thoughts loll

“I’m so screwed. I can’t seem to properly memorize the theories, especially the one about Piaget’s stages. It keeps getting mixed up in my head,” you mutter in between bites. 

damn she’s a psych major

Despite the reconciliation between you and Wonwoo, you still find yourself doubting his actions. Did he want to change for the sake of your friendship? Or was he only putting effort knowing you had almost slipped through his fingertips? 

i was thinking the same 

Pulling out your phone from her purse, and bringing the screen to your face. You widen your eyes, moving your head closer to the camera. A lopsided smile sneaks its way onto your lips as it unlocks. 

move over, wonwoo, my turn. WHY IS SHE SO FRICKING ADORBALE IME ATIGN MY FISTI5JRG

“Excuse me! I’m waiting for my Wonwoo to come and pick me up,” you squeak, slapping the chest of whoever is trying to take you away from your friends. 

fuck wonwoo, i want HER

“Your Wonwoo?” A familiar voice has you stopping in your tracks. 

RAHHHHHHHHHHH 🦅

“My Wonwoo.” 

fuck, this is way too cute ahhhhhh

How weird is it that a Wonwoo look-alike exists?  

dies this is way too cute for me

Slapping his hand away, you’re offended at how endeared he is with you. The only thing on your mind was the softness of your comforter and the warm mint tea that you knew you were going to have later. 

where do i find this girl irl, i dont even want wonwoo

“You know, I get really scared driving at night. I think I need you to hold my hand.” 

move over, wonwoo. this is my turn!!

Fake Wonwoo has nice hands. 

asdfghjkl 

Would this be what it would be like if Wonwoo were finally yours? 

🥺 im crying

“Real or fake, whatever you are or whatever this moment is. I’m still in love with you. I hate that I can’t tell you this without feeling scared or ashamed. I’ve loved you since the moment you came into class with your big nerdy glasses. I’ve loved you since you came back for a senior year when you had everyone’s attention on you. And I’ve loved you even when you were in love with someone else.”  “I’ve loved you during everything we’ve been through together. Even when I chose to ignore you, I woke up every morning with you still on my mind. It was hard, and I don’t know why I couldn’t let go of my feelings for you but a part of me was always hoping that one day you would feel the same way.”  

im fucking bawling 

“What I’m trying to say is that I’m in love with you. I’m sorry it took so long for me to realize that it was you all along. I don’t know why I never admitted it to myself, but you’ve been in front of me this whole time.” 

my eyes r swollen. he fucking said it, HE SAID IT

“Just promise me you’ll love me tomorrow too,” he chokes out. 

“I’ll love you even if there is no tomorrow.” 

Oh my fucking god 🥺🥺🥺🥺 

His black hair was long and covered his forehead, glasses were thick and large-framed. Wonwoo was a breath of fresh air from the other boys at your school. Unlike the rest of them, he was more reserved and didn’t talk much. His silence intrigued you. 

fetus wonwoo 🥺

[wons: ok] 

His reaction to the nickname lmfaoo

But you felt daring in that moment, allowing yourself to rest your head against his shoulder. Wonwoo stiffened slightly at your proximity but didn’t budge.

🧍i need a nerd bf rn

“Yeah. At least then we have more to talk about,” he specified.

ahhhhhhhhhhh

Instead, Wonwoo wrapped his arm around your shoulder pulling you closer to him. 

im so done, I NEED A NERD BF RN

Wonwoo took over every crevice of your mind, his scent, his touch, even if it was a mere hand on your shoulders, you didn’t want to go a day without him. 

and that’s how you know she’s beyond being saved.

You almost scoff at how cheesy you sounded in your dream. What kind of fool speaks this articulate after countless shots of tequila? 

mam, that did happen and yes, YOU spoke like that after downing tequila

Except for the dildo that June gifted you for your birthday last year. 

lmfao??? i got reminded of that scene in everything everywhere all at once

Opening up your drawer you carefully take out the pink sparkly dildo that was still left in its packaging, gripping it tightly as you burst through the door. 

ASSESVRTJNOE4UGJSWLE3MN IM DDYING LMAOO

Only for your sight to befall an extremely muscular and shirtless Wonwoo. 

stopping my manic laughter to appreciate his muscles. aight back to the shenanigans

“Ow! What the fuck?” Wonwoo grunts, turning around to see your smaller frame gripping a bright pink dildo. 

GRRRRRR LMAOOOOOOOOO

“I love you too,” the words spill out of your mouth effortlessly, like you were meant to tell him all along. 

your honor, my client is down bad

Grinning down at you, Wonwoo places a gentle kiss on your lips. His large hands cupping your face as he does so. 

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH THEY KISSED, GENTLE KISS OH MY GOD 

All while you’re sitting there eating strips of bacon and a couple of eggs.

ASDFGHJKL, IM SOBBING I LOVE DOMESTICITY SO MUCH. *inserts that gif of ebichu crying*

“I just want to be yours, Wonwoo.” you sigh, placing your plate on the coffee table. 

AHHHHH, holy shit, she’s 6 feet underground

Lazy Sunday Morning. Your favourite. 

All i can think of is my mans joshua, im sorry anna

“Be my girlfriend. Be mine, please,” Wonwoo speaks in hushed tones, his lips searing against the shell of your ear. 

YES YES YES, this is so hot

While his hand massages into the fat, you kiss up his neck while rubbing yourself against his clothed cock. His voice becomes strained, attempting to cover up the sounds of pleasure he’s emitting with a cough. 

ANNA, HOW DARE U SAY U CANT WRITE SMUT IDFDSHDDDJHCNB 

The only thing he was looking forward to was the look on Seokmin’s face once he saw that you were finally his. 

just admit that ur in love with him

The absence of your touch irked him, but he let you go, not wanting to startle the rest of the group with his growing possessiveness. 

i shudn’t like this …. why do i like this … but possessiveness in real life 😬

A hand is placed on his shoulder and he flinches away, he doesn’t want anyone but you touching him. It almost makes him want to throw up. 

i love reserved men so much

“That’s never stopped me,” her voice lowers an octave in an attempt to sound seductive but Wonwoo feels nothing but repulsed by her very being. 

i hate ppl like this

he knew he was in control either way. 

😌 

His. His darling.  

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH FUCK I LOVE THIS

down your neck with the goal of leaving marks against your delicate skin. 

i was so sleepy when reading this, i read it global warming against your delicate skin 😭 im so sorry lmao

Excitement courses through his veins, imagining all the fun he’s about to have with you. 

fucking hell, he’s so hot

He doesn’t stop until he’s at the apex of your sex, glasses fogged while the bridge of his nose is rubbing against your skin. 

fuck, his glasses???

🧍omfg, wonwoo domming made me feel  …. 🥴

“Gonna breed this little cunt till you're stuffed full,” he groans, finally inserting his dick inside your heat. 

At that moment, Wonwoo concludes that he doesn’t want anyone but you. For as long as he can, he wants to be the only one to fuck you, to give you orgasm after orgasm. Until you're spent and in and out of consciousness, he wants to be the only one who can make you feel this way. 

“Answer it,” he speaks firmly. 

“Bet you liked that huh? You like it when I show everyone that you’re mine?” Wonwoo emphasizes while he continues to push past your entrance. 

Wonwoo’s muscular bicep wraps around your neck, placing you into a headlock. 

“This pussy is fucking mine,” he growls, emphasizing his words with each thrust. 

“Says the one who has a massive dildo in their drawer,” 

lmao i love him

Not even the fresh air that breezed through his fingers or the scent of the salty water misting its way onto the shore while he visited his hometown could outweigh the feeling of tranquillity that he got when he was with you.

🥺🥺🥺 this is so–im biting my fist. 

Everything had fallen into place, and for the first time since he was seventeen, he realized that the one person he was searching for was in front of him this whole time. 

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

🥺🥺 this is the most perfect way to end it fuck. omg 

[wonwoo has changed your nickname to “darling <3”] 

i feel so warm and fuzzy, im tearing up, omfg

In Front of Me (2)

cause i was blind to see that you were right in front of me ₊˚

⊹ pairing: jeon wonwoo x f.reader ⊹ genre: bestfriends to (?), angst, smut (R: 18+ mdni) ⊹ wordcount: 40.6k (part 1: here) (part 2)

⊹ summary: jeon wonwoo has spent most of his adolesence and early adult hood unable to understand why he can't seem to stay in a relationship for more than a few months. as his best friend, you allowed him to vent about his worries without judgment. so what if you're in love with him? your friendship with wonwoo meant more to you than having your feelings reciprocated. that is until you hit your breaking point, while wonwoo finally realizes what has been in front of him this whole time.

⊹ tags: non-idol!au, uni!au, unrequited love (for the most part), pining, toxic!wonwoo, toxic!reader, both in wonwoo and readers pov, questionable protagonists, mentions of other svt members, happy ending (?), emotionally constipated characters (wonwoo), flashbacks, slight seokmin x reader, a lot of emotions thrown everywhere. (smut and content warnings under the cut)

⊹ note: here is pt.2 i hope you like how this ended :) thank you for reading ♡ please leave a reblog, comment, or ask with your thoughts, i appreciate u !

⊹ masterlist, fic playlist.

⊹ smut tags: dry humping, kissing, fingering, penetrative sex, corruption kink, degradation, dom!wonwoo, brat!reader, virgin!reader,oral (f. receiving), creampie, exhibitionsm (?), slightly perv!wonwoo undertones, petnames (reader: darling, baby) (wonwoo: baby), big dick wonwoo, riding, headlock (this is a warning actly). ⊹ warnings: alcohol, reader is downbad for wonwoo, stalking, slut-shaming, evasions of privacy, if i missed anything lmk! cuz ik i did i just can't think of what hehe :p

act two, self control.

chapter one, before the fight. 

The booth you sat in was far too cramped for your liking, yet there was a sense of relief that washed over you. Raval had been a go-to hang-out spot after all the tireless hours spent studying during the weekdays. The atmosphere was lively, your friends’ laughter drowning out most of your thoughts. 

Tonight also marked the first time in your life that you could fully enjoy a night out with your friends. Without Wonwoo’s presence clouding your worries. 

Despite his obvious plea for attention, you felt like you could finally breathe. The adjustment and decision to flat-out ignore him was difficult, but thanks to Seokmin it had become a little easier to bear over time. This past week was filled with more joy than you’ve had in a long time. And Seokmin had been extremely doting towards you throughout it all. 

“Babe, can you pass the pistachios please?” Jun pouts, his cheeks red from his third glass of beer. 

“Did you need me to peel them for you, baby?” June coos, lips curling into a cutesy tone. 

With a quizzical expression, Mingyu turns to Kalia, trying not to laugh at the other couple's foolishness. The two share a look before Kalia fake gags, causing Mingyu to burst out laughing. It had almost gone unnoticed until Mingyu broke out into a fit of giggles, June glaring at him with an unamused expression. 

Watching the whole scene unfold had you smiling to yourself, wondering if there would ever be a time when you got to have these cheesy moments with someone the way your friends did. 

“Oh please, Kalia. You act like I didn’t see you and Mingyu practically eating each other's faces off in the library yesterday, ” June huffs, shooting daggers at the both of them while peeling away the pistachio shells for her drunken boyfriend. 

“Hey! You said that no one would catch us.” Kalia slaps the back of Mingyu’s head, causing him to wince. 

“First of all ouch, second of all, I didn’t know that anyone would go that far back into the library!” Mingyu defends himself.

“Actually, the two of us were trying to do the same thing, but we saw you and dipped,” Jun confesses in his drunken state, while he munches on the pistachios June had been feeding him.

“Ha! Take that June, you're just as bad as us, if not worse,” Kalia gibes, sticking her tongue out at June. 

“Actually, all of you are equally as corny, end of discussion,” Leigh chirps, his eyes rolling as Lynne, his twin sister, cackles beside him. Both evidently fed up with the ‘who’s the cheesier couple’ argument. 

Amidst all the bickering, you take a sip of your drink, eyes glimmering with admiration. It seemed so simple for your friends to find someone who truly loved them, and wasn’t afraid to show it. 

Wonwoo had been at the forefront of your mind for so long that you had denied yourself anyone else. You had been so set on making Wonwoo your end goal when you could’ve found someone who would’ve treated you better. Reminders of all your missed opportunities left a bitter taste in your mouth, the alcohol on your tongue sweet in comparison.

“Something on your mind?” Lynne breaks you out of your thoughts. 

With your glass pushed down onto the sticky bar table, you give her a crooked smile that feels less disingenuous than the previous smiles you have been producing these past few months. 

“Kinda wondering when I’ll have something like those goofballs over there,” you chuckle bitterly, head motioning to the two girls fake arguing while their boyfriends sat there cluelessly. 

“I thought you were dating Wownoo?” Lynne asks, and you couldn’t help but laugh at your pitiful situation. 

His face flashes briefly within your mind, and you’d almost forgotten that you had chosen not to speak to him, for how long? You weren’t sure. It could be days or months, or until you’ve finally healed from your one-sided heartbreak. 

“No… no. He and I were just close friends,” your tone is melancholic. Lynne’s worry is transparent as she squeezes your shoulder. 

Desolation filled your senses regardless of the bar patrons' exuberant chatter. Your group of friends were all in their own worlds while you were troubled and inattentive. There was guilt gnawing at your insides. You didn’t want this to be one of those talks where you delve into the intricacies of your peculiar friendship with Wonwoo. 

“And that's okay, too. I'm not sure what happened, but he’s an idiot if he can’t see what's right in front of him,” she affirmed as you sat there, relieved that she didn’t press the situation further. 

“Tell me about it, it feels like everyone's been saying the same thing,” you mutter. 

Overhearing your conversation, Lynne’s twin brother couldn’t help but jump in, “Wonwoo’s a dumbass.” 

Lynne gives him a pointed look, but can’t help but laugh at her brother's antics.  Feathery giggles leave your throat too, finding Leigh’s unexpected declaration amusing. 

“Sorry, I had to put my two cents in, he kinda sucks! As a friend he’s okay I guess, but as a boyfriend, girl, you’re better off without him,” Leigh puts his hands up in defence, but there was truth behind his statement. 

“True, I’ve seen what he’s done to some of the girls on campus, total—,” Lynne begins, only for her sentence to be cut off. 

“Red flag,” Leigh finishes Lynne’s proclamation. 

Twin telepathy, you assumed.

“Hey, I’ll cheers to that,” you shook your head with a chuckle, taking three shot glasses before topping them up with a bottle of tequila Mingyu had bought for the table. 

“What! You guys are taking shots without us?” Jun whined before filling his glass with liquor. 

The whole table's attention is on the three of you now, joining in on the rounds of shots going around. The clangour of glassware chimes throughout the carved-out space of the bar you and your friends had claimed for the night. 

“Wonwoo’s an asshole!” Leigh blurted out loud before throwing back the alcohol in his cup. 

There's a moment of silence amongst the rest of your friends at the table, before they all burst out laughing before repeating Leigh’s words. 

“Wonwoo’s an asshole!” They all say wholeheartedly in unison. 

The gleam in everyone’s eyes caused warmth to swell all over your body. Nothing could compare to moments like these, and you desperately hoped that the night wouldn’t end. The reassurance that your friends had given you should’ve been worth the pain of cutting Wonwoo off. Praying that their effort to cheer you up wouldn’t be wasted on foolish decisions you desperately wanted to make; the yearning for Wonwoo has only skyrocketed and it frightens you to the core.

 No matter how distracted you attempt to make yourself, he still floods your every waking thought. 

two. 

 Since your decision to ignore Wonwoo, Seokmin has been coming over to your place a lot more often. You can’t recollect when it started to happen, but you're not opposed to his company. It’s quite the opposite actually; if anything he’s made your days a lot brighter, keeping you distracted from your urge to text Wonwoo. 

The time you spent with Seokmin mostly consisted of him trying to get you to finish the whole Harry Potter series with him. When you told him you’ve never seen the movies before, he had a comical look of shock painted over his face. Hands slapped against his cheeks, eyes wide they almost popped out of the sockets, type of comical. 

“Not even the first movie?! Not even on Halloween during elementary school?” Seokmin gasps, hands on your shoulders, trying to gauge what you did and didn’t know about the infamous films. 

“Yes! Not even when I was a kid, is it bad that I haven’t watched it?” 

“It's not just bad, this is almost criminal,” Seokmin sighs, feigning distraught. 

You chortle at his remark, baffled by how seriously passionate he is about Harry Potter, which ended almost ten years ago, you might add. 

“Well, there’s only one thing we can do,” he shakes his head, reaching for the remote on the coffee table. We’re going to binge-watch this thing until you're caught up.” 

“What? Isn’t that a bit much? There are like a bajillion movies,” you exasperate. 

Not wanting to hear another complaint from you, Seokmin shushes you dramatically. His pointer finger was in front of your lips before you could get another word in. 

“I'll get the snacks. You sit here and get comfy because you’re in for a ride,” Seokmin asserts before standing to grab food and drinks from your kitchen. 

An audible sigh leaves your lips, arms crossed as you pull the blanket over yourself to “get comfy” just as Seokmin wanted. 

A few minutes passed before Seokmin returned to the living room, a bowl of microwave popcorn perched on his side and two cans of soda cradled in his other arm. 

“You left your phone on the counter, by the way,” He mentions before placing it on the coffee table. 

“Oh! Thanks, I didn’t even realize,” you smile, shifting to make room for him on the couch. 

“You ready for the greatest movie experience ever?” Seokmin beamed, plopping back into his seat beside you. 

“Sure, but we can only watch the first two,” you bargained with him, knowing that if he had it his way, you two would be up till sunrise. 

Seokmin rolled his eyes jokingly, pretending to be annoyed with your lack of enthusiasm. Despite his antics, he agrees with your compromise. The movie begins to play and you let yourself relax in his presence. A bowl of popcorn is shared between you two while he wraps his hand over your shoulder. Not used to the proximity between you and him, you're thankful the increased volume drowned out the pitter-patter of your heartbeat. 

…

“Well that was a lot better than I expected,” you admit. 

Although you were uncertain about watching the movies at first, you had acknowledged the hype around the Harry Potter franchise. Seokmin had caught all your facial expressions while watching, peering over to catch your reactions during all the major plot points. You had been so obviously absorbed in it that you didn’t realize he had been staring.

“I told you! It just gets better from here. The Goblet of Fire is my favourite, you’ll love it,” Seokmin marvels, wanting to indulge in his interests with you. 

“Tom Riddle is kinda cute, I won’t lie.” 

“But he’s evil…and you know he gets ugly anyways. He’s literally Voldemort!” Seokmin disputed with a stare of mild disgust. 

“Yeah, I know, but there’s a bunch of attractive villains, like Killmonger from Black Panther,” you shrug, but Seokmin looks at you like you had just insulted his entire bloodline with your statement. 

Giggling, you didn’t expect him to take your opinions so seriously. 

“Fine. I won't say anything else. You go take your shower, and I’ll clean up,” he ushers you toward your room while holding the empty bowl in his hands. 

“How did you know that I was gonna take a shower?” you ask with curiosity. 

“I’ve known you for so long, you always take a shower before bed,” Seokmin explained nonchalantly.  

Heat radiated off your face, and your timid expression would’ve been visible if Seokmin’s back wasn’t facing you. You hadn’t realized how well Seokmin knew you.

“Thanks for cleaning up, I won’t be long,” you give him a smile of gratitude before heading over to your bathroom. 

The more time you spend with Seokmin, the more you regret falling for Wonwoo. Seokmin is kind and doting, and he never causes you to feel any worry. He is the prime example of home, reminiscent of a warm fire while snuggled up on the couch with a pile of blankets.

 Seokmin feels safe. The safe choice, the smart choice. 

Unfortunately, you were too foolish to have known sooner. Your irrevocable love for Wonwoo overshadowed all the possibilities of being with Seokmin. 

A knock on your front door brings you out of your spiralling thoughts. But before you head over to open the door, Seokmin beats you to it. 

“Minnie? Is someone at the door?” you call out from your bathroom, not bothering to leave. 

“Yeah! Your neighbour just needed to borrow something,” Seokmin half yelled from where he stood. 

There was a moment of doubt in your mind, why would your neighbour want to borrow something so late into the night? Instead of investigating further, you leave it to Seokmin to help them, too tired to talk to anyone else for the rest of the evening. 

“Okay!” is all you say. 

You turn on the shower, allowing the steam to congregate and relax your senses. As you step in, you grant the warm water the ability to wash away your conflicting thoughts about both Seokmin and Wonwoo. 

after the fight. 

“It’s time for you to go. I’m tired, Wonwoo.”

The bile in your throat stings, the corner of your eyes wet with tears. You didn’t expect Wonwoo to burst in here accusing you of things you wouldn’t dare do. There’s a familiar hollow feeling in your chest as you recollect how much of your heart you laid bare for him to witness. 

Had you known that ignoring him would lead to an outburst of unrelenting anger, you wouldn’t have done so in the first place. Even when this cologne hangs in the still air of your apartment, you yearn for his presence. Even when you unleashed your fury at him, kicking him out with no remorse, you still yearn for his touch. 

There hadn’t been many fights between the two of you, only enough to count on one hand. It would be petty arguments over stupid things. Arguments that would lead to one of you apologizing before the day was over. This fight seems different. It can’t be resolved with a quick ‘I’m sorry’. 

Defeated and tired, you move to your bed. Your phone sits atop the dresser. Curious and wishing for Wonwoo to just return and apologize, you click his contact. You almost feel like you are in some fever dream, the words ‘you’ve blocked this number’ staring back at you in flashing red. 

Horrified by the sight of your phone screen, you don’t remember blocking him in the first place. Wracking your brain, you’re trying to think of all the instances where you had been drunk or high enough to even do so, but nothing comes to mind. If you didn’t block him, then who did? 

You unblock his contact as quickly as possible, not wanting to create even more distance between you, although it might be too late to rectify the situation. A few messages were sent shortly after the fight had gone down. 

[2:55 a.m.]  [wons <3: idk if you’ll receive this but i’m sorry darling. i mean it.] [wons <3: i didn’t mean what i said earlier. i was just so angry. when ure ready to talk, lmk.]

Wonwoo’s text brings a swell of comfort within you. As much as you hate what he did, you could never bring yourself to hate him. 

three.

“You know, I’m kinda glad you’re here,” you professed. 

The harrowed walls of your home became a lot more bearable now that you had someone other than yourself inside them. The entire place felt far too big for you, especially because you tend to sit alone with your thoughts too often. 

Seokmin coming over to hang out was not part of your initial plan. But his unannounced visit wasn’t unwelcomed either. He was extremely talented in distracting you with his sporadic outbursts of energy and laughter. Seokmin made you feel quaint, almost as if he could be the ‘someone’ after everything you had been through with Wonwoo. 

With crescent-shaped eyes that appeared when his smile broadened, Seokmin wrapped his arm tautly against your shoulder. 

“I honestly just came over to check on how you were doing, after everything that happened, but I don’t mind staying for a while, I’d do anything if you asked.” 

“Are you flirting with me, Lee Seokmin?” 

Seokmin threw his head back with a hearty contagious laugh. Before you knew it, you were laughing along with him. 

The voice in the back of your head hissed symphonies of how easier your life would’ve been if you had just fallen in love with Seokmin instead. No matter how many times you tried to unearth a flaw of his, nothing comes to mind. There were so many signs leading you toward him, and how perfect he would be for you. But your heart still belongs elsewhere, even after what has been said and done. 

Seokmin’s eyes dimmed, “Would it be so bad if I was?” 

Taken aback by his words, your mouth opens and closes, trying to figure out whether he’s joking or genuine about his statement. 

“I-I guess not,” you mumble, watching the way his gaze shifts from your eyes down to your lips. 

Holding your breath, you can’t deny the tension that the two of you had created. Bodies practically meshed together on the couch, you weren’t sure how you ended up in this position but if Seokmin was the answer to distracting you from the fight with Wonwoo, who were you to deny him? 

“I really want to kiss you,” Seokmin confesses. 

“I wouldn’t stop you if you did.” 

Seokmin didn’t need much convincing after what you had professed. Swinging your legs over his lap, he grapples you into a position that has you straddling his thighs. The swiftness of his movements almost caused a yelp to leap out of your throat, but he steadied you before you could let out another noise.

With the faintest of touch, Seokmin places his lips over yours. Ever so cautious, ever so careful, he clearly wants to savour the moment. Despite his heedfulness, you were the exact opposite. You want it to be fast, you want him to be rough. 

There’s deliberate fervour behind your actions, causing Seokmin to groan in surprise. Rough palms gripping your waist, he matches your energy. The world sinks into a deep void along with the cruel songstress who refused to let you neglect your feelings for Wonwoo. 

Even though you have the desire to prolong your make-out with Seokmin, your phone buzzes against the plush cushions of your couch. Practically jumping out of his lap, you unlock your phone as if you weren’t just making out with Seokmin, to discover yet another text from Wonwoo. 

Every time his contact appears on your screen, your heart can’t help but skip a beat. It angers you how easily enraptured you are by something so minuscule. Even after you had kicked him out of your house that night, you can’t deny his diligence and how desperate he is for forgiveness. 

You almost wanted to curse him out for his audacity, but the other half wanted to give in and let him explain. Eyes glued to his messages, you find yourself reading them over and over again, your heart swollen with an aching desire to talk to him again. 

[11:09 p.m.]  [wons <3: hi. ik ur still mad but let me make it up to you. please?]  [wons <3: i don’t know what i have to do to make u forgive me but just know i don’t want us to end on this note.]  [wons <3: please darling, u mean so much to me, i don’t wanna lose u.]  [wons <3: i can’t stand this. please, just give me a chance to make things right] 

Only a fool would be swooning over his visible cry out for attention, and a fool you were.  Wonwoo’s claws have sunk so deep into you, that you can’t even kiss someone without him interrupting. It's like he knew what you were doing without even seeing you. 

“I thought you blocked him?” the inflection of disappointment apparent in Seokmin’s voice. 

Plopping your phone back down on the sofa, your brain finally registers the words that Seokmin had just uttered. You know for a fact that it wasn’t you who blocked his contact, but how the hell did Seokmin know?

 Unless he was the one to do so… 

A moment of realization struck you like a bolt of lightning, and the confusion finally cleared by the slip of Seokmin’s tongue. Why would he block Wonwoo’s contact on your phone? 

Attempting to recall when and where this could’ve happened, you remember the day you left your phone on the kitchen counter during the Harry Potter movie marathon. The burn at the back of your throat intensified as awareness sunk into your whole being. Seokmin was under the guise of a doting friend while you were in your feelings for Wonwoo. Pretending to be your knight in shining armour while you were in a vulnerable state. How could you be so naive? 

Wonwoo had been trying to tell you the truth, but you foolishly snubbed all his warnings out of anger. 

Nauseous and betrayed, you didn’t know that Seokmin would turn out to be the one to manipulate you, to sway your opinions to gain your time and affection. You’re so shaken up from your revelation that you almost forget who exactly is sitting right in front of you. 

“I’m really sorry Seokmin, but that kiss. I wasn’t thinking straight,” you attempt to act calm, not wanting to escalate the situation. 

“It’s okay, I understand. It's only been a week,” he shrugs with a rueful demeanour, “You’re still in love with him and there's not a lot I can do to change your mind.” 

“You’re right, there isn’t,” you reply with certainty. “I've been in love with him for years, and that’s not going to change for a while.” 

“I just want you to know I’ll be here when you’re ready.”

“I can’t do that to you knowing I still love him,” you disclose and hurt flashes across Seokmin’s eyes. 

“I understand.” 

“I hope so, considering you had gone on my phone behind my back and blocked his contact.” 

Shock is the best way to describe Seokmin’s reaction. He probably hadn’t realized that you figured out where his true intentions lie. But now that it’s out in the open, you can’t help but stand your ground. 

Seokmin doesn’t deserve to be in your presence right now, especially after he took advantage of your vulnerability. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Seokmin tries to respond nonchalantly, but his eyes frantically avoid your gaze. 

“You know damn well what I’m talking about,” you grit, your knuckles were straining from how hard you gripped onto your phone. Displacing your anger before it was shot full throttle and onto Seokmin’s face.

“Fine. You caught me. But there wasn’t any other way for you to forget him if you kept in contact with him. Even if you weren’t explicitly answering his texts.” 

Standing up and stalking over to your door, you open it to usher Seokmin out of the home. 

“That’s for me to decide. Not you. Now please leave.” 

Without much defiance, Seokmin leaves, evidently hurt by your anger towards him. The frown on his face deepened while he grabbed all his things, and walked out your door.

 As he leaves, he utters his last words, clearly miffed by your decision to kick him out. 

“I may be in love with you just as much as you are with Wonwoo, but at least I’m not dumb enough to go back to someone who obviously doesn’t give a shit about me. Your life will get easier when you stop being an idiot and start seeing how bad he is for you.” 

… 

The unsavoury memories of earlier had you deep in thought, especially after the statement Seokmin had made. He was supposed to be your safe space, but he ruined it with his need to cut Wonwoo out of your life for you. Yet there was clear wisdom to what he had said. Wonwoo only complicated your life and feelings further.  

Everything would be so simple if it were Seokmin instead, and you acknowledge that. But your heart didn’t seek out his touch the way it did with Wonwoo. 

 Seokmin let his feelings get in the way of what could’ve been the start of something good. If only he hadn’t done what he did, maybe if he had just given you more time to heal, things between the two of you would be different. Although the friendship with Seokmin had turned sour, he still deserves someone who would love him unconditionally, it just wasn’t you. 

 Wonwoo was the person you truly wanted, and although the break and argument between you two were enlightening, you cannot deny how right he is about Seokmin. 

You also cannot deny how much you still miss him. 

Can’t Get You.

chapter one. 

“I gave up so much for you, Wonwoo. I lost so much of myself trying to please you. But I give up. I was drowning in my love for you.” 

You are an enigma inside Wonwoo’s mind, and it was the first time in a while that he had experienced deep regret and grief. Forcing himself into your home to accuse you all because of his resentment towards Seokmin, he couldn’t have been less irrational. And now he had to face the consequences of his actions.  

Sleepless night after sleepless night, he had no way to make up for what he had done to you. Years of cluelessly assuming that you only ever saw him as a friend, of using you as a crutch for his anguish. He had been so unfair, and there's a sense of exasperation he cannot disenthrall. 

Wonwoo is supposed to be your friend as much as you were his, but he dared to treat you as his therapist, his support system. If he hadn’t been so blind to your feelings, none of this would’ve happened. Maybe he would’ve been able to reciprocate your feelings earlier if he had known that you were in love with him this whole time. 

The buzz of a notification illuminates his dim bedroom, the light of his screen creating shadows that harboured his contrition. He had half the mind to answer, but after what he had said to you that day, he knew it wasn’t going to be you. 

Wonwoo decided to take a look anyway. 

[12:09 a.m.] 

[darling <3: you were right about seokmin]

[darling <3: that doesn’t mean i forgive u. i just thot id let u know]

With his heartbeat hammering inside his chest, Wonwoo couldn’t contain his elation. It’s been so long since he’d seen your name on his phone screen, and despite the context not being ideal, he decided to look at the brighter side. 

Although he’s not sure what had gone down between you and Seokmin, Wonwoo couldn’t find it in himself to care. All he knows is that he was right to warn you, and he has a chance to have you all for himself once again. Without the worry of Seokmin interrupting his plans.

[12:10 a.m.] 

[wons <3: i’ve missed you, darling] 

[wons <3: i know i’ve been a bad friend in the past, but i want to show u that i can change. please]

[wons <3: i promise, i'm going to be better]

Desperation was never Wonwoo’s thing, but if it meant having you in his arms once again, then nothing else matters. If he’s perceived as pathetic for trying to gain your trust again, then so be it. 

Eyes glued to his phone screen, he observes how your grey chat bubble appears and disappears again. The anticipation of what you’re going to say next has Wonwoo on the edge of his bed, wishing he could just peer into your mind, to catch a mere glimpse into what you’re thinking. 

[12:14 a.m.] [darling <3: 👍] 

There’s an immediate drop in Wonwoo’s smile, he’s never experienced you acting indifferent towards him. The feeling is so foreign he has no choice but to find some way to get rid of it. You had given a sliver of hope just by texting him, and that was all he needed. Wonwoo is your best friend, he knows you better than anyone, he knows you better than Seokmin. 

Apathetic towards the lengths he may have to go to to bring you back into his life, Wonwoo is determined to make you forgive him. Even if it meant abandoning his pride or his ego, he didn’t care anymore. Everything else is meaningless if you’re not his. 

two. 

The next time Wonwoo is forced to be in a room with Seokmin is the day Jeonghan decides to have an impromptu study session in the library. Unbeknownst to him, the person he has grown to hate would be there too. The tension was increasingly palpable to the point that both Jeonghan and Leigh found it difficult to focus on their work. 

“Why are you here?” Wonwoo queried with a scrutinizing gaze. 

The sound of uncomfortable shuffling is pronounced within the long pause of Seokmin and Wonwoo’s staredown. And Jeonghan gives Leigh a look of curiosity with a hint of confusion. They were obviously under the impression that the two of them were good friends, especially because no one had a clue about what happened between them. 

“Jeonghan invited me to study, why? Is it illegal for me to be here?” Seokmin quipped, evidently unamused by Wonwoo’s presence. 

Wonwoo scoffs, chair legs scraping against the hardwood as he takes his seat. 

“It should be.” 

Seokmin huffs before crossing his arms over his chest, taking a guarded stance. Various textbooks cluttered around the table, long forgotten in favour of watching Seokmin and Wonwoo bicker. 

“What’s up with those two?” Jeonghan whispers in Leigh’s ear, which the latter only shrugs in response. 

Wonwoo and Seokmin were lost in their world of conflict, and neither paid attention to their two observers. They were both ready to pull out bowls of popcorn amid their studying, which seemed more entertaining than whatever they were reading earlier. 

“Not sure. I bet you ten dollars it has something to do with you know who…,” Leigh whispers back, obviously amused by his friends' clear disdain for each other. 

“I’ll bet you ten dollars and a kiss Wonwoo did something to piss off Seokmin,” Jeonghan challenges his deal. 

Leigh giggles at how Jeonghan takes every opportunity to flirt with him but agrees to his wager anyway. 

“What does a kiss have to do with any of this?” 

“Nothing, I just wanted to give you one,” Jeonghan shrugs. 

Their conversation is cut off by Seokmin’s need to curse out Wonwoo, standing up from the table only to poke his finger into the elder's chest. 

“I hope you know that if you pursue her, you’ll only end up hurting her,” Seokmin accused, causing Wonwoo to flare with outrage.

Wonwoo isn’t pleased by Seokmin’s intrepid need to provoke him. From what you texted him the other day, it’s unmistakably clear that he has the upper hand. This means that Seokmin’s vexation is only a projection of the fact that his plan has gone awry. 

“Maybe if you hadn’t been such a manipulative bitch, she wouldn’t have come back running to me,” Wonwoo smirks, the realization in Seokmin’s eyes is nothing but confirmation that he struck a nerve. 

Seokmin is left baffled by Wonwoo’s statement, “You seriously cannot be talking right now.”

“Oh, but I am. I may have done wrong before, but at least I know how to get her back,” Wonwoo retorted.  

Thankfully, the library wasn’t traditional in the sense that students had to be quiet while using the space. Most passersby' barely batted an eyelash as the two men were raised from their seats while in a heated argument. 

The bitter taste in Wonwoo’s mouth only intensified the more time he wasted quarrelling with Seokmin. There are better things he can do with his time, like finding a way for you to forgive him. But he can’t help that every time he lays eyes on Seokmin, the only thing he can think of doing is socking his so-called friend in the face. 

“We’ll see who she ends up with in the end, and I’ll make sure it isn’t you,” Wonwoo finalizes. 

Deciding that he is done exchanging words with Seokmin, he leaves before he wastes any more of his time. The bag hooked on his shoulder was still unopened since their fight started before he could even retrieve his things. Harsh footsteps echo throughout the bustling library, and Wonwoo makes it his mission to find you. To have you in his hold before Seokmin could even think of getting near you. 

…

Three o’clock. On Wednesdays, your anthropology lecture always ends at three o’clock. Wonwoo knew you wouldn’t be pleased to see him inside the arts building, waiting right outside the lecture hall. But he had to take his chance, or else Seokmin might find a way to weasel into your life once again. Just the thought of it made Wonwoo’s ears flare red. No one deserves to have you as much as he did. 

The rush of students begins to trickle into the hallway, and he spots the top of your head before you stray too far away. With a shout of your name, he watches as you try to find the voice that has been calling out for you. 

Suddenly, the world around Wonwoo lacks colour as his gaze sets upon you. Standing there, you shine brightly, and Wonwoo couldn’t care less how stupid he looked while trying to gain your attention. The people around him are nothing but blockages that stop him from being able to grab onto you. Your expression is filled with curiosity as he waves his hand, beckoning you closer to him. Despite the obvious conflicting thoughts that are running through your head, Wonwoo knows you won’t be able to resist him. 

As you near, Wonwoo almost sighs with content, hearing your voice for the first time since that night. 

“What are you doing here?” 

The two of you wedged into one of the corners, waiting for the crowd to thin out. Grabbing your wrist, Wonwoo pulls you against him. Your back is flush with the wall; the rest of the students push past the both of you to get to their next class or to go home. 

“Wanted to be the one to give you a ride home,” Wonwoo mutters truthfully, but he knows that’s not why you’re asking. 

He watches the way you gulp, trying not to get caught up in the heat of his body. You’re so close to him that if he makes one slight movement he could end up kissing you. The feathery breath you let out almost causes Wonwoo to forget what he’s meant to be doing. Enamoured by your soft pink lips and how the heat on your cheeks intensifies with each passing moment. He simply can’t take his eyes off you. 

It seems as though you're making Wonwoo fall for you without even realizing it. 

The delightful scrunch in your brow only leaves him tingling, satisfied with the fact that you two are in such proximity after everything that happened. Although Wonwoo knows he has a long way to go to gain your forgiveness, he allows himself to enjoy the smaller moments with you while he can. 

“I can walk,” you retort, recoiling out of his grasp before walking over to the exit. 

“Walking is fine too,” Wonwoo attested, catching up with your fast pace. 

“Alone,” you reiterate. 

Wonwoo is amused by your direct attempt to get him to leave you alone. He almost laughs, you should know him well enough by now. What Wonwoo wants, he gets, it doesn’t matter if you’re mad at him. He’s confident enough in himself to know that he’s capable of making you fall for him all over again. 

If there’s one thing Wonwoo is unmistakably good at, it’s the chase. 

With his experience, it doesn’t take much for you to be perched right back into his palm. You’re a woman after all. The only difference between you and everyone else is that Wonwoo can envision a future with you in it, which has always been hard for him to do. But with you, Wonwoo can only wish that he could live till he’s a thousand if it meant that he could spend the rest of that time with you. 

“Please darling, let me take you home,” Wonwoo begs, his slender fingers grasped against your wrist. “You’re probably tired from walking around campus all day.” 

He could practically see the way the gears were turning in your head like you couldn’t decipher his underlying motives, and he couldn’t help but grin at your obvious overthinking.

“Fine, but you’re giving me a ride. That’s it.” 

The smile on Wonwoo’s face widens as you try to act uninterested, but he knows deep down your resolve is beginning to weaken.  

three. 

Wonwoo can only surmise that his plan has been taking effect. Not only have you been less reluctant to agree to him giving you a ride to and from school, but you’ve also been replying to his texts more frequently. Albeit they haven’t been the same long and sporadic messages you used to send, Wonwoo can’t seem to complain.

[5:05 p.m.]  [wons <3: u got home alright darling?] [darling <3: u drove me home.] [wons <3: ik. but i still wanna ask] [darling <3: i should be asking u that] [darling <3: not that i care tho] [wons <3: sure u dont]  [darling <3: i don't! now bye i have to study for my quiz tmrw]  [wons <3: okayy wtv helps u sleep at night 😆]  [wons <3: dont study too hard. ill pick u up tmrw at the same time ok?]  [darling <3: 👍] 

Smiling like a kid on Christmas, Wonwoo can’t help but feel the rush of butterflies flutter in his stomach. He can tell you’re trying to put on a detached facade, but your caring nature seems to be slipping through the cracks. 

His plan to slowly reinstate himself into your life seems to be working. Even though he understands it won’t happen overnight, Wonwoo doesn’t mind waiting for you to forgive him. At least he knows that he’s one step closer than Seokmin ever will be. 

…

“Good morning,” Wonwoo greets you, moving to the side to open the door. 

As you slip into the passenger seat, he realizes how much he misses you sitting beside him. You were always in your world while he drove, staring at the window reading all the signs along the way, or humming softly to the lyrics of the current song playing. 

“Morning,” you mumble back, settling into your spot. 

It’s that time of the year when all the leaves start to fall off the branches. The pavement was littered with hues of brown, red, and yellow. Wonwoo loved autumn the most out of all the seasons. It reminded him of the smell of cinnamon and warm cups of tea. Most importantly, it was autumn when he first met you. 

“You ready for your quiz?” Wonwoo decides to fill the silence. 

As you turn your body, you give him a soft smile, and he knows with that expression, that you probably didn’t get much studying done the night before. He chuckles at your meek countenance, you’ve always been the type to procrastinate. 

“I know that look. Don’t worry, you’re the smartest person I know,” Wonwoo reassures you. 

The right hand he had gripping the steering wheel strays from its place, seeking your hold. Allowing himself to take a glance at you before interlocking his fingers with yours, rubbing soothing circles along your delicate skin. Sensing you freeze upon his touch, Wonwoo’s hands almost break out in a sweat, hoping you won’t pull away. And surprisingly, you don't. 

Both of you returned to a relaxed state, and he’s overjoyed that you’ve decided to allow him to touch you again. Even if it’s something as innocent as hand-holding on the way to school. Wonwoo squeezes your hand tighter, reminding himself that you’re still beside him. That you chose to be with him. 

It wasn’t long before the campus university was in Wonwoo’s view. Pulling into his parking spot, he does so without letting go of your hand once. Even when turning the gear shift into park, his hold on you has yet to be relinquished. 

There’s a pause of silence that Wonwoo decides to break. 

“I know it’s not going to be easy to forgive me, I’ve done so many things that, if I was in your position, wouldn’t have let slide. But I’m asking for a chance, just one chance to show you that I can be better,” Wonwoo confesses. 

He observes that way you take time to think, his thumb continuing to rub mindless circles into your skin. Wonwoo didn’t think he’d be so nervous to hear what you had to say, or if you would say anything at all. 

“Just be patient with me, okay?” is the only thing you end up saying. 

To Wonwoo, that’s a win. You didn’t deny his request for forgiveness, and that can only mean one thing. His plan is working just as he’d hoped. 

“Take all the time you need, darling. I just want to be close to you again,” Wonwoo reassures you, his voice stable and comforting. He searches your eyes for even an ounce of unease. 

Nodding your head, you finally loosen your hand from Wonwoo’s. As you step out of the car you leave with one final remark. 

“I'll see you after class okay?” 

That was all the assurance that Wonwoo needed. He’s convinced that he’s a step in the right direction. You’ve fallen for him once again, perhaps not fully, but soon enough you’ll be back to where the two of you had left off. 

… 

When Wonwoo gets to see you again, it’s to drop off your cognitive psych textbook. By the time he realized it was on the floor bed of his car, it was already too late to give it back to you.

As he returns to the same long hallway, he nears your apartment with a sense of unease. Flashbacks of what happened the last time he even stepped foot into the building flood his memories. Wonwoo had no reason to be nervous, especially because you’ve become more lenient about him seeing you again. But this is different, he can’t help but wonder if you’re over that night, or you’re just allowing him to enter your life again because it was easier. 

The sound of him knocking on the door reverberates through the empty hallway, and a chill shoots down his spine. Why is he so nervous? He’s been here more times than he could count, and above all that he’s only here to return your textbook. 

From the other side of the door, he can faintly hear your footsteps as you make your way over. A hand clasped around the thick spine of your book, he grips it harder as he awaits your arrival. 

“Hi?” you greet him with a puzzled expression. 

The breath in Wonwoo's throat evaporates into thin air, his eyes glued to the curve of your body. It’s the same sleep set you wore the night he saw Seokmin leave your apartment. Trapped in his mind, he can’t help but let his thoughts wander. Plush thighs hugged tightly by your shorts, no bra in sight, allowing your nipples to outline the satin. With a tense gulp, he knows he can’t stay for long. 

“H-hey, uh, you forgot your textbook in my car,” Wonwoo stutters, eyes raking over your figure. 

What the hell? Wonwoo’s seen you in everything under the sun, including a bathing suit. But why does this damn sleep set have him tripping over his words? 

Before he can say anything more, you move forward to grab the book from his hands. Your hair flows over your shoulder while the strap of your tank top slips down. 

Shoulders stiffening at the sight, Wonwoo really can’t stay. He might even combust into a million pieces before he can get to his car. 

“Thanks.” 

“It’s really no problem, sorry I’m here so late. You’re—” his words are cut off by your unexpected proposition.  

“You wanna come in? I’m making some tea.” 

Wonwoo is completely fucked, though he doesn’t stop himself from entering your home. 

As you turn around, Wonwoo almost lets out a strained groan. He had been lucky enough to cover it up with a cough. You shoot him a confused look over your shoulder, and he mumbles a curt “It’s nothing” before you can question him further. 

The scent of peppermint tea engulfs his senses, your favourite. It was your routine to drink a cup of tea before bed, but peppermint has always been your go-to. He only knew this because his mom always made sure to send you boxes of a loose-leaf version from your hometown. You didn’t drink any other kind. 

There’s a sway in your hips as you move over to the kitchen counter and Wonwoo’s lost in a hypnotic state. Taking a seat at the island, he watches as you grab two of the coffee mugs from your cupboard. As you move to reach for the glassware, he observes the way your shorts ride up, giving him a direct view of the curve of your ass. He felt like a pervert for staring but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t take his eyes off you. 

“Here, let me get them for you,” Wonwoo offers, moving behind you to retrieve the two mugs. His body is perfectly aligned with yours, he can feel you stiffen against him. 

A rough palm is placed delicately against the exposed skin of your waist. You’re so warm. Wonwoo’s brain short circuits and he almost forgets what he’s actually meant to do. He holds you tighter against him while the handles of the cups are hooked against his fingers. With as much delicateness as possible, he situates the mugs against the granite. 

The soft “thank you” that left your lips was almost too faint for either of you to hear, but due to the stillness in the atmosphere, Wonwoo heard you loud and clear. 

With reluctance, Wonwoo leaves his spot behind you to return to his seat. He continues to watch you as you prepare the tea, and he’s never been more mesmerized in his life. It was almost criminal how closely he examined your actions, but you had become so captivating. It would be rude to deny the pleasure of being able to see you again. 

“This one’s for you,” you mutter, setting the mug in front of his person. 

“Thanks.” 

A comfortable silence blankets the two of you. Your hand around your cup, savouring the tea while you scroll aimlessly on your phone. Wonwoo allows his thoughts to wander. It almost felt sinful to be inside your apartment once again, compelling him to apologize once more. 

“I know I've already said it before but, I hope you know I’m not going to let this second chance be taken for granted. What I did was wrong, and I was so angry and confused that I didn’t even think about what I was saying.” 

Looking up from your phone, a frown is apparent on your angelic face. But you don’t say anything, allowing him to continue with his admission of guilt. 

“There are so many things I could’ve done differently, but I let my anger get the best of me. You’re the most important person in my life and I don’t want to let you go. I know I’m terrible at showing how much I care but I want you to know that deep down inside of me my love for you is there. You’re my greatest friend and I was a dumbass for not treating you that way earlier on.” 

There’s a pregnant pause in the air before you respond. Wonwoo’s nerves are spiking, but he waits diligently for your reply. 

“I understand that you’re sorry. And I wish that things had gone differently. I’m sure that night was a lot for both of us. Seokmin wasn’t the person I thought he was, and it sucks that you were right but I wanna move forward. It just felt so wrong for you to assume that I was with him in that way. It hurt and it was insulting for you to talk to me that way.” 

The words that had been brewing in his mind were lost as he continued to listen to you. 

“What’s even funnier is that me and Seokmin kissed a couple of days after our fight. I’m not even sure why I did that, but I regret it. I probably just wanted to get my mind off you and all the other stuff. Honestly, I was so naive, I didn’t think Seokmin would go to such cruel lengths to manipulate me.” 

“I want to forgive you. You’re my best friend, and I don’t want to lose you either. Seokmin had put it in my head to just cut you off, and it almost felt wrong but I listened anyway. I should’ve known why he had convinced me to do all those things. I was so stupid to believe him. But I do want to fix us, I just need time.” 

To hear you talk about what Seokmin did to you, and to also find out that you two had kissed made Wonwoo’s insides churn. He felt sick at the thought of the two of you, but why? You’re his friend, he shouldn’t care about the fact that you and Seokmin shared an intimate moment. Wonwoo should only care about the fact that both he and Seokmin hurt you.

“Darling, I’m so sorry. I wish there were more ways I could show you how apologetic I am. I promise I'm going to do better.” 

There’s a glazed look over your eyes, and Wonwoo’s chest almost collapses into itself. The subtle pout on your lips causes a sigh to leave his lips. 

Standing up, he walks over to you, cooing as he deluges you into his hold. Strong arms pull you into his chest, the faint weeping coming from you almost kills him. He hates to see you sad, and what he hates even more is that he’s the one behind most of your pain. 

“I’m not going anywhere from now on. So please darling, don’t push me away anymore. I’m gonna do everything I can to show you how important you are to me,” He whispers in your ear as he runs a hand down your hair. 

Wonwoo knows how much you love it when he does that. It always calmed you down on the days you couldn’t regulate your emotions. 

Sensitive to the sad things in life yet ardent towards the things you are passionate about. You have always been a softer soul, a soul that feels everything without a care in the world. At the same time, you are a whirlwind of emotions, and different colours of sensibilities, it’s your greatest strength but also your weakness. Wonwoo admires that about you. Never afraid to feel, never afraid to wear your heart on your sleeve. Everything he isn't. 

That night, Wonwoo vowed to be a better person for you. He also promised he’d never let someone like Seokmin take advantage of your kindness again. 

four. 

Despite Wonwoo’s desire to submerge his feelings into a deep void, he can’t seem to dismiss the fact that he’s slowly falling for you. It didn’t start when you had begun to ignore him, nor did it start when you decided to search for comfort in another. 

Seeking a piece of you in everyone he’s been with. It's always been in a subconscious manner, but the more he looks back on all his relationships, he’s started to realize that the one thing that was missing was you.

Falling in love with you was gradual. 

In the same way, the tides along the shore would slowly pull the sand back into the ocean. In the same way, the seasons changed from summer to winter. Wonwoo’s love for you is like autumn leaves. Shades of green morph into the familiar, comforting, yellow, red, and brown. Their descent from their branches slowed, dwindling with the breeze before they ultimately hit the ground. Before he knew it, autumn had begun. 

Before he knew it, he was in love. 

Everything over the past month had just been a wake-up call. Slowly rising from an insomnious state, he began to find clarity in his past actions, in his reasons for wondering why none of the relationships worked out in his favour. No one understood him the way you did, and no one understood you the way he did. And he had been foolish enough to not act upon those realizations sooner.  

… 

Wonwoo ached to see you again. To be close to you, with your scent filling his nostrils, your warmth engulfing him, he couldn’t stop thinking about you. Yet he sat in the library trying to make sense of his pending assignment. Mingyu sits across from him, looking close to slamming his forehead with his textbook. 

Wonwoo couldn’t care less about regression to the mean or whatever it is his statistics professor is trying to teach him. Every second that passed his mind would end up wandering to thoughts of you. That night in your apartment, the whiff of peppermint tea, your arms around him as he held you close. Desperation is a dangerous emotion, for it only made him want to close his laptop and rush to your side. 

Why didn’t he just fess up about his feelings for you right then and there? He could’ve done it, but his intuition stopped him. From the start of you finally letting him back into your life, neither of you brought up your confession of being in love with him. The prospect of him even acknowledging the subject has Wonwoo believing it wouldn’t end the way he hopes. 

Attempting to suppress his curious thoughts, he’s afraid of you denying everything you disclosed to him that night. He didn’t want you to renounce your declaration of love under the guise of anger or the heat of the moment. The only thing he wanted from you now was the truth. 

“Well, you look a lot better than you did last time we were here,” Mingyu speaks up. 

Taken out of his trance, Wonwoo lifts his head from the screen of his laptop. An involuntary chuckle erupts from his chest. Despite his muddled thoughts, Mingyu is right. He looks and feels a lot better than he did before. 

“A lot of shit happened, but yeah, I guess you can say that.” 

“Hmm, let me guess. You two made up?” Mingyu doesn’t beat around the bush. 

Wonwoo is aware that Mingyu’s probably only asking to remedy his curiosity, or so he could update Kalia about the situation, but he doesn’t care. If anything, he wants everyone to know that he won you over instead of Seokmin. 

“Yeah, kinda? I don’t know. I’m trying my best to be better for her though,” Wonwoo lets out a half-hearted sigh. 

Mingyu looked at him with curiosity, and Wonwoo knew that expression a little too well. It was the ‘since when were you the type of person to change for a girl’ look. His friend didn’t have to say much for him to understand what Mingyu was attempting to convey. 

“You’re serious?” Mingyu presses, a lilt of doubt in his tone of voice. 

“Yeah, I'm serious. Never been more serious in my life,” Wonwoo scoffs, he already knows where this conversation is heading. 

Mingyu didn’t seem to buy it though, eyes rolling as he leaned back in his chair. Wonwoo crosses his arms defensively, it is typical for Mingyu to wonder where his true intentions lie. His track record wasn’t the best when it came to girls, unlike Mr. Perfect across from him. 

Mingyu knew how to deal with relationships, he’s practically married to Kalia at this point. 

Wonwoo, on the other hand, tended to obsess for a few months before inevitably breaking things off. It’s practically second nature for him to do so, but this is different. It's you. And Wonwoo knew that meant more to him despite his old habits. 

“Be for real man, I know you. Are you sure this isn’t the same as the last hundred times you’ve liked someone?” 

“Like? I don’t just like her. I’m in love with her.” 

Mingyu’s eyes go wide, Wonwoo has never dropped the L–word on his friend before. Not about Haein, or any of the other girls he’s dated. 

“Woah. That's different,” Mingyu lets out a low-whistle. 

“That's what I mean. We’re not talking about just some other girl who I find interesting. This is my best friend,” Wonwoo continues to defend himself. 

It felt weird to say those words out loud for someone else to hear, but Mingyu was the only person Wonwoo didn’t feel insecure talking to despite the fact he practically criticized him during the last study session. Wonwoo needs to let his feelings out into the world, and Mingyu is willing to listen. 

“Okay, you’ve convinced me, but you better not fuck it up. I won’t punch you but I know Kalia would,” Mingyu shrugs, and he’s right. Kalia would beat him up. 

Wonwoo snorts at Mingyu’s remark, “Your girlfriend is scary.” 

“She is. Just don’t be a dumbass and she won’t kill you. You know how much Kalia cares about her.” 

“Seems like everyone does. Seokmin cares a little too much,” Wonwoo huffs, thinking back to what you had told him the last time he saw you. 

“Ah. I heard about that,” Mingyu smirks. 

Wonwoo could feel the hairs on the back of his neck starting to stick up. He didn’t particularly like the idea of you and Seokmin together. In all honesty, he doesn’t even want to see him within a hundred feet of your person. Wonwoo had half the mind to beat him to a pulp for how he hurt you, and he’s sure that Seokmin feels the same way about him. The only difference was that you had a clear choice, and Wonwoo came out on top. 

“I can’t believe him actually. He’s dead to me,” Wonwoo scowls, hating the bitter taste Seokmin’s name leaves on his tongue. 

“Dude… Seokmin is still our friend,” Mingyu attempts to mediate, like the soft-hearted man he is, but Wonwoo doesn’t care. 

“No. He’s your friend. What he did is fucked up, even for me. His dumbass is not stepping a foot near her, not if I have any say in the matter.” 

Hot on his heels, Wonwoo packs his belongings and exits the library with flames blazing his trail. Mingyu still sits there dumbfounded, recovering from the shock of his friend's crass declaration. 

five. 

[12:11 p.m.] [wons <3: meet me at our spot? i have a surprise :)]

Pacing back and forth, Wonwoo waits for you at the aforementioned spot. It’s a hidden corner on campus you two found in your first year. There were multiple wooden picnic tables scattered around the lawn of green grass, but no one seemed to come to this side of the university. It had been an alcove of secludedness for the two of you since that day. Wonwoo had spent most of his lunch breaks eating here with you when the crowds of students got too overwhelming. 

Deciding it wasn’t doing him any good walking back and forth like a madman, he takes a seat at the table you both claimed for yourselves. Even with the abundance of available picnic tables, neither of you ever sat anywhere else. The table’s location had always been perfect. Right under a large oak tree that had just the right amount of shade yet a prime amount of sunlight. The leaves had already shed, and there was no protection from the rays, but Wonwoo settled in his unassigned seat anyway. 

Inspecting the food he bought you, he made sure that it was still warm enough for you to eat. Two grilled pork banh mi’s with extra pickled vegetables wrapped securely within the plastic bag, your favourite. 

Wonwoo had no reason to buy it for you, other than the fact that as he was leaving the library in a sour mood, he was able to snag the last two from the dining hall. Thinking about the look you would have on your face once you got here made him smile to himself. So without a second thought, he paid for the sandwiches before sending you a text. 

“So what's the surprise?” 

Ears perking, Wonwoo whips his head over in the direction of your sweet voice. Skin glowing in the sunlight, he admires you with a lopsided smile. You look so good today, almost too good. The black skirt you wore flounced with each step you took, while your cardigan hung low on your shoulders. 

He wishes he could have you only for himself, finding it unfair that everyone else in the whole damn world got to admire how gorgeous you are, including himself. Wonwoo doesn’t get tired of looking at you, it’s like a breath of fresh air each time. 

“Hi, darling. There were only two left,” he nudged his head, motioning to the plastic bag that you are very familiar with. 

With glowing eyes, you let out a squeal of delight. Wonwoo knew he did something right for once. 

“Oh my god. How did you know I was craving these today? I was thinking about it all morning,” you gush, rushing over to open the bag that held your most prized possession.

“I didn’t, but I know you’d never say no to your favourite,” he chuckles. 

You didn’t even get to take a proper seat before diving into the banh mi. 

“I forgot to pack a lunch today,” you bubbled, mouth still half full with food. 

Wonwoo continues to grin, pleased with himself that something small like this brings you so much happiness. Tutting, he jokingly scolds you, wiping the cilantro that stuck to your cheek. 

“You shouldn’t talk when your mouth is full darling, you’ll choke.” 

Rolling your eyes at him, you swallow your food and take a sip of water before continuing with the conversation. 

“I woke up late today and forgot to make something for lunch, so thank you for this, I was starving,” you beam up at him, sitting cross-legged on the bench. 

“It’s a good thing I’m here then, right?” He chuckles, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, not wanting it to get in the way of your eating. 

“Yeah I guess you’re right,” you mumble before taking another bite. “Fuck this is so good right now, you don’t even know.” 

Wonwoo hums, amused with your reaction before unwrapping his sandwich. Admiring his view of you, he continues to listen to you talk about how you’re absolutely in the trenches for your next cognitive psychology midterm. 

“I’m so screwed. I can’t seem to properly memorize the theories, especially the one about Piaget’s stages. It keeps getting mixed up in my head,” you mutter in between bites. 

“I wish I could help, but you're the psych major,” Wonwoo shrugs, bemused at how your cheeks resemble those of a hamster. 

“True. Enough about school, my head hurts just thinking about it,” you sigh. 

“Alright. No school. Do you have plans for the weekend, at least?” Wonwoo asks. 

Your eyes lit up at his question, and you were ready to divulge what you had going on for the end of the week. Midterms were only a few days away, and everyone was so high-strung about them. Wonwoo knew you just wanted it to be over. You’ve always been the type to hate preparing for exams. 

“Well, June, Lynne, Leigh, and I are hitting up Raval on Friday. We wanted to celebrate the start of the mid-term break,” you explain. “You can join us if you want.” 

Before either you or Wonwoo could get another word in, his phone rings obnoxiously on the table. His mom’s caller ID flashes across his screen before he accepts the call, propping it up so the both of you are within the camera lens. 

“Hi mama!” you wave excitedly, Wonwoo’s mom smiling back at you. 

There wasn’t much he was grateful for in life, but the fact that you and his mom were so close was one of those things. 

“Hey ma, what’s up?” Wonwoo greets her, the grin on his face widening. 

“Hi, my babies. I just wanted to say hi!” His mom waves her hand at the camera, trying to stay in the frame. 

“Dear, did you get your box of peppermint tea?” she asks you, Wonwoo’s gaze returning to your beautiful smile. No words could explain the happiness he felt seeing you talk to his mom. 

“Yes mama, I did, thank you so much! I’ve been drinking it every night,” you assure her, sending her flying kisses through the phone. 

“Wonwoo, treat her well while you guys are away, got it? I just wanted to check on you both real quick,” his mom chattered through the speaker. 

“Yes, ma, I know. We’re eating lunch, but I’ll call you when I get home. Love you,” Wonwoo feigns annoyance but still tells her he loves her. 

“Bye, mama! Love you,” you bid her farewell, the call beeping indicating that Wonwoo had hung up. 

For the rest of Wonwoo’s lunch break, the two of you ate your banh mi in comfortable silence. There was a silent agreement of eating and just enjoying the view of the secret spot that Wonwoo shares with you. With everyone else gone, it was perfect. 

If Wonwoo could have any superpower in the world, it would be able to stop time. He yearns for this moment to last forever. Enjoying your company in a secluded part of campus, where there’s no one to bother you, no one to question your friendship.   

He longs for more days with you like this, away from the noise, away from distractions that cause his attention to stray away from who he cares about. He only needs one thing in his life to truly feel fulfilled, and it's you.  

act three, Hold Me by the Heart. 

chapter one. 

Despite the reconciliation between you and Wonwoo, you still find yourself doubting his actions. Did he want to change for the sake of your friendship? Or was he only putting effort knowing you had almost slipped through his fingertips? 

Warmth enveloped you every time he was around, every time he gave you small words of affirmation. Even with all these signs of growth from him, you still had that vexing churn in your gut. 

That swirl of intuition felt like you were just waiting for the other shoe to drop. As much as you hate not being able to trust your best friend completely, apprehension continues to gnaw at your insides. 

“Hey? You still in there?” June interrupts your train of thought, waving her hand in front of your gaze. 

“I thought you and Wonwoo made up?” She continued to press for answers, which was typical of her. 

“We did,” you sigh, taking a sip of your Long Island iced tea. 

“Then why the long face?” 

“I don’t know. Maybe I’m just thinking too hard,” you chuckle, although there’s no humour behind it. 

June mirrors your expression, frowning alongside you as she pats your back, trying to get you out of your forlorn state. 

“That calls for another drink!” She attempts to lighten the mood, her pointer fingers poking at your smile lines, forcing a grin to grace your lips. 

Rolling your eyes at her, you agree to her proposition. Not wanting to waste your weekend on immutable thoughts of Wonwoo. He’s the only person who could make you sit around a room full of people and still feel like something, or rather, someone, was missing. 

In the back of your mind, you wonder if he remembers the confession you accidentally spilled during your fight. In the midst of all the anger, the pent-up frustration, you deliberate whether he still remembers the fleeting “I love you” that left your trembling lips that night. 

Before you could blink, June was already back in her seat. A tray of shot glasses filled with brown liquor. There was enough for everyone to take at least two. Although you know it’s not a good idea to get drunk with the negative thoughts floating within your mind, you choose to ignore your rationality for one night. 

“Wonwoo still may be an asshole, but if he makes you happy, who am I to judge?” Leigh speaks up from his seat, knocking back the shot glass till it’s empty. 

A small giggle leaves your lips, duplicating his actions and swallowing the alcohol in one go. 

“So what is the deal with you and Wonwoo now? I feel like every time I see you, he’s right behind you like some kind of brooding bodyguard,” Lynne queries, ready for you to fess up. 

The breath you take in is sharp, not knowing where to even start. The past month has gone by in a blur, too many events happening in such a short amount of time. You couldn’t even process it properly yourself, let alone recite all that has gone down to your friends. 

“Well, I may have texted him after that incident with Seokmin. And after that, it just snowballed. He started driving me to school again, eating lunch with me, apologizing every chance he got. I-I don’t even know anymore,” you inhale, not realizing that you have barely taken a chance to breathe. 

“Interesting…” Lynne mumbles, tapping on her chin as if she is deep in thought. 

“He’s just become more considerate. I don’t know why he’s decided to change, but I can’t complain because I can see the change,” you continue, defending him. After all, you knew your friends didn’t see him in a particularly positive light. 

There was a pause in the air, everyone sitting at the table still processing your defence. Even if they still hate him, you don’t really care. Yes, you care for their opinions, and you cherish their affection for you, but Wonwoo deserves a second chance in your eyes. 

“I mean… Isn’t the reason he’s even acting like this because he hated seeing you with Seokmin?” Leigh disputes, and you frown. 

There’s truth behind his statement. Wonwoo only noticed your absence because you had started hanging out with Seokmin more. But it worked in your favour, so can you even be mad? 

“Maybe. Honestly, I don’t think I care about his reasons. He's trying and that’s all that should matter, right?” you mutter, taking another shot from the tray. 

The looks on your friends’ faces say more about what they want to say to you than their words ever could. You’re disregarding Wonwoo’s toxic behaviour in hopes that this new chapter with him is more than just some facade. 

“Oh, that’s not…” Leigh whispers under his breath but doesn’t say more. 

They know they can’t change your mind. 

[11:17 p.m.]  [wons <3: still out with your friends?] 

Your screen's brightness illuminates the bar's dim lighting, bringing everyone's attention to the bubble with Wonwoo’s name clearly on display. 

“Speaking of the devil,” Lynne shakes her head as she nurses the drink in her hand. 

[11:18 p.m.] [darling <3: yeahh, we’ll probably head home after a few rounds, why?]  [wons <3: jw. have fun darling]  [darling <3: thx! ]

“I don’t know about you guys, but I’d rather we drink till I forget everything from midterms instead of talking about Wonwoo,” June pipes up, disrupting the silence that had enveloped your group. 

As she calls for someone to bring more shots to your table, you quietly smile to yourself. Wonwoo usually was not one to text first, but it’s different now. Even if everyone else can’t stand him, you can’t help but feel the exact opposite. 

There’s a hum of agreement, and everything becomes a blur after that. The constant flow of alcohol forces you to focus on what’s in front of you. Wandering thoughts of Wonwoo are brought to a halt as you feel yourself slipping into a drunken state. 

… 

“Jun! My boyfriend is here!” June exclaims, practically walking sideways outside of Raval. It’s deep into the night at this point and your friend decided that the best person to call was her boyfriend. 

As she sways on the sidewalk, your two other friends hold you up in an attempt to keep you from falling face-first into the cement. Despite how late it was, there were still cars bustling past on the street. Jun’s car idling as he tries his best to help his girlfriend into the passenger side. 

The university town is still alive with students entering and exiting outside of the bars and restaurants as everyone celebrates the end of the week. You can only wish for Wonwoo to be here with you, but you knew he wasn’t the type to go to bars this late, opting to stay up playing League on his computer instead. 

“Hey babe, if you want, you can call Wonwoo to come pick you up,” Lynne speaks to you soothingly, obviously not as intoxicated as you are. “You’ve been mumbling his name for like ten minutes now.” 

“Wonwoo? Is he here?” 

“No. But I’m going to call him so he can get you,” she gives you a tight smile.

Pulling out your phone from her purse, and bringing the screen to your face. You widen your eyes, moving your head closer to the camera. A lopsided smile sneaks its way onto your lips as it unlocks. 

“Are you sure this is a good idea? She’s fucking gone,” Leigh chastises his sister. 

Lynne gives him an exasperated look, shrugging her shoulders. Her brother rolls his eyes in return, both defeated. They know they can’t stop you from wanting Wonwoo, plus he’s the only one who knows the code to your apartment. You’re too drunk to even unlock your phone, let alone press buttons on the keypad of your door lock. 

Hell, you can’t even stand without falling aimlessly to the ground. 

“Wonwoo? It’s Lynne. Can you come to Raval?” you barely register your friend's voice, looking off into the distance. Hoping that Wonwoo would magically appear any second from now. 

The call is dropped and they manoeuvre you onto the bench outside the entrance of the bar. Head flopping onto Leigh’s shoulder, you close your eyes. Maybe the next time you open them, Wonwoo will be standing right in front of you. 

What felt like seconds were actually ten minutes to your slightly more sober friends. Jun and June waiting diligently beside their car waiting for Wonwoo to finally arrive as the other two are constantly trying to keep you upright. 

When they agreed to have a few more shots, they didn’t expect you to take another five along with two more long islands. Regretful for their lack of heed, they had forgotten how much of a lightweight you are. 

“Oh! Fucking finally, I swear he drives like a Grandpa,” Leigh scoffs, seeing Wonwoo’s car pull up behind Jun’s. 

“Where is she?” Wonwoo's voice bellows, and it’s as if he’s near. 

With your eyes still sealed shut, you mumble incoherently to Leigh, “It’s like he’s right here. Am I that drunk that I’m imagining things?” 

“Oh my god… take her home please,” Leigh doesn’t answer your question and you’re slightly offended. 

“Hey!” you pout, finally opening your eyes as you feel someone tug you away from your source of heat. 

Strong arms wrap themselves around your waist, a broad chest is the only thing within your line of sight. 

“Excuse me! I’m waiting for my Wonwoo to come and pick me up,” you squeak, slapping the chest of whoever is trying to take you away from your friends. 

There’s a collective groan behind you. 

“She’s wasted.” Lynne sighs to her brother while he nods in agreement.

“Your Wonwoo?” A familiar voice has you stopping in your tracks. 

Looking up at the once faceless person who was dragging you away, you find yourself face to face with the man you had been yearning for all night. 

“Woah. You look just like him,” bemused with the stranger in front of you. 

Squinting your eyes, your palm traces along his structured jaw. The tips of your finger poking at his cheek affirm your suspicions. He felt very real under your touch. Every line and freckle is scarily alike to your Wonwoo. 

“Like who?” 

“My Wonwoo.” 

The man’s chuckle vibrates deeply against your side. The same side where he has you pinned to his chest. A smug expression is plastered on his face as he watches you with intrigue. 

“I believe there’s only one Wonwoo,” he argues. 

“I disagree,” you huff as he pats your head, ushering you to his car.

 Unsure of why you’re even following some random is beyond you at that moment. All you could think about is texting Wonwoo once you’re safely tucked into bed. 

“Thanks for giving me a call, she hasn’t been answering her phone,” Wonwoo bids farewell to your friends as they start to pile into Jun’s car. 

“At least you can see why she hasn’t been texting you back. We might’ve given her too much to drink,” Lynne shakes her head as she chuckles at your drunken state. 

“If my opinion matters, I think I had the perfect amount,” you butt in, wanting your friends to know that you can still kind of register what they’re saying. 

“Right…” Leigh speaks up. “Anyway, we’re going to leave now that you’re here. Make sure she gets home safe!” 

“Will do,” Wonwoo promises, waving them off as Jun drives away. 

Glowering, you take a second look at him. How weird is it that a Wonwoo look-alike exists?  

The street lights that line the sidewalk cause your vision to go in and out periodically. If you didn’t know any better, you would’ve thought that the man in front of you was the real deal. But you did know better, and you would’ve recognized your Wonwoo from a mile away. 

“I think it’s time that we get you home,” Wonwoo smirks down at you, reaffirming the grip he has on your waist. 

“How do you know where I live?” You interrogate him, finding it weird that this man would have your address in the first place. 

“That’s a secret that will be revealed later, darling,” He teases, opening the door to his car so you can take a seat. 

Once he’s on the driver's side, Wonwoo adjusts your seatbelt so it’s not uncomfortable during the ride. The warmth of his arm brings you to snuggle against it, looking up at him with a coy smile. 

“You know, for a fake Wonwoo, you’re pretty cute.” 

“Fake Wonwoo?” 

“Yeah, real Wonwoo wouldn’t come all this way just to pick me up,” you sigh, pulling away from his warmth to stare out the window dramatically. 

“I think he would.” 

Laughing at his statement you roll your eyes. The person in front of you didn’t know your best friend like you did. 

“How would you know?” You bite back. If anyone could win the ‘I know Wonwoo more than you’ contest, it's you. 

“That’s also a secret.” 

Slouching back into your seat you huff out a breath of air once again, “Why do you have to have so many secrets?” 

“Because.” 

“It’s a secret?” you counter. You had a feeling that would be his answer anyway. 

“See? You’re finally getting it,” he gives you a cheesy smile, pinching your cheek. 

Slapping his hand away, you’re offended at how endeared he is with you. The only thing on your mind was the softness of your comforter and the warm mint tea that you knew you were going to have later. 

“Just take me home,” you sneer, shifting your whole body away from the driver’s side. Thighs pressed against the door, your brattiness starting to peek through your insobriety. 

“Hey, hey, don’t be like that,” Wonwoo pouts, lip jutting out as his eyes sparkle under the city lights. 

You don’t budge, body firmly pressed against the plastic of the car door. Arms crossed as you feign annoyance at him. 

“You know, I get really scared driving at night. I think I need you to hold my hand.” 

With a sense of reluctance, you offer your hand to him. Unsure of what has you agreeing to his request, you can’t say no to someone so handsome. Wonwoo interlaces his fingers with yours, and it surprises you how well your palm fits into his, allowing him to rest your intertwined hands on your lap.  

The ride back to your apartment is peaceful for the most part. The wistful city lights calm the drumming beat of your heart. Everything moves past in a blur; you can’t help but admire the cars driving past, time slowing down with the music lulling through the radio speakers. 

Serenity is the best way to describe the time you spend sitting next to Wonwoo on the drive towards your place. 

“I wonder if the real Wonwoo is thinking about me right now,” you mumble, still staring out the window. 

Wonwoo’s hand still entwined with yours, he hums along with the music, the other one on the steering wheel. Initially, you thought he didn’t hear what you had said, but he ended up replying to you. 

“I know he is.” 

Turning in your seat, you look at him, analyzing his side profile as he stares ahead. There’s yet another frown that settles into the fine line of your face, how could he possibly know whether or not Wonwoo is thinking about you? 

“You don’t know that,” you speak with a sour tone. 

“I do though,” he counters with a glance towards you. 

“How?” 

Disgruntled at his amusement, you know he’s just going to say it’s another one of his secrets, which you’re starting to get sick and tired of. Why can’t he just tell you? It’s not like you’ll see him after today. 

“Nevermind. You’re just going to say it’s a secret,” you grumble but still hold onto his hand. 

For whatever reason, you become engrossed in the view of your hands linked together. His slender fingers and clean nails had you intrigued. You had a feeling that you looked silly just staring at his hand in yours, but there was no helping it. 

Fake Wonwoo has nice hands. 

“You have pretty hands,” you tell him, no filter left within you due to your lack of sobriety. 

“Thank you,” he grins, tightening his grasp on you. 

The drive felt longer than you’re used to, but you decided to blame everything on the alcohol. 

“Are we almost there yet?” 

“Yes darling, just a few more minutes,” he answers you, rubbing small circles on the side of your thumb.

Another five minutes felt more like a year, but you couldn’t complain. Your seat was comfortable, the heater was at the right temperature and Wonwoo’s hold brought you solace. 

“We’re here. I’m gonna help you out okay? So just sit pretty and I’ll get you,” Wonwoo explains, and your cheeks burn from his indirect compliment. 

“Okay.” 

A few seconds pass and the door opens, his tall figure slouching down to grab you by your waist. He circles behind your back before leaning over to undo the seatbelt. It was almost too affectionate for a stranger, but something inside you had you leaning your head against his shoulder. 

“Don’t worry about walking. I’ll carry you.” 

You don’t respond to him, instead, you wrap your arms around his broad shoulders and hold onto him even tighter. Breathing in his cologne, you smell the familiar scent of Wonwoo’s cologne. Your olfactory senses take in the aroma of rose and pear. 

Lazy Sunday Morning. It was your favourite out of all the perfumes he owns. 

Closing your eyes, you allow Wonwoo to carry you inside your apartment. The sound of buttons beeping at the front of the entrance, and the warmth of his body, almost entranced you into a slumber. But you didn’t want the fantasy to end, you didn’t want this version of Wonwoo to slip out of your grasp. 

Nose nuzzling into the dip between his neck and shoulder, you make yourself comfortable as he stands inside the elevator, you in his arms, waiting to ascend to your floor.

The beeping sound returns as Wonwoo opens the front door that leads to your home. There’s a sense of wonder: Would this be what it would be like if Wonwoo were finally yours? 

Would he carry you to bed when you were too tired to stand? Hold your hand in his during every car ride? The thought of those things happening seemed like it would only be possible in some made-up faraway land. 

“Darling, we’re home,” Wonwoo’s baritone voice brings you out of your half-awake dream. 

We’re home. How bittersweet it sounds coming from the lips of someone who isn’t yours. 

“Thank you.” 

“Anything for you.” 

The mattress sinks a tad as you feel yourself being placed into the warmth of your comforter. Your arms don’t let go of your hold on Wonwoo’s shoulders. As you stare into his eyes, the dim lighting of your bedside lamp aids in resurfacing a sense of clarity within you. 

“Will you finally tell me your secrets?” You whisper, even though there is no reason to. 

“Only if you tell me yours.” 

There's a pause. No one dares to speak as you two continue to look at each other in silence. All that is left unspoken can be seen through his eyes, you wanted to ask. Every particle inside you just wanted to know whether there was a chance he felt the same way you did. 

“Come and lay beside me?” You request, tone laced with reticence. 

“Anything for you,” he repeats once again. 

Lowering his body onto yours, arms still circling his shoulders, he shifts a little so that your hands are still on him. The two of you face each other while the atmosphere is left unwavering. 

What you thought would be better left unsaid takes permanent residence at the forefront of your mind. Why do you want to tell this version of Wonwoo your deepest most kept secrets all of a sudden? 

Perhaps you thought that if you admitted anything now, it’ll be forgotten in the morning. It was safe with this fantasy Wonwoo who had no real attachment to the one who lives in your reality. But the effects of all those shots have started to wear off, and you’re left with a very real version of the person you’re irrevocably in love with. 

“You have to go first,” you speak in a hushed tone. 

Wonwoo’s arms grip your waist tighter, pulling you into his chest. The arms that are linked behind his neck do the same, holding him taut against you. You don’t want him to leave. You don’t want this form of Wonwoo to disappear before your eyes. 

“Well, I didn’t think it would take you this long to realize but, I am the real Wonwoo,” his chuckle is deep, the glint of amusement sparkling in his eyes. 

“I think I did. I just didn’t want this dream to end,” you smile bitterly. 

“But it’s not a dream? I’m here with you, and I’m very real.” 

Burying your face into his sweater, you sigh harshly. This is where it ends. 

“I’m sorry. It was probably such a nuisance having to pick me up just for me to spew out nonsense in return,” You’re embarrassed, hiding your face even further into his chest. 

“Will you please look at me?” Wonwoo asks, his voice low, “You’ll never be a nuisance to me.” 

  His hand comes up to your head, fingers carding down your hair. Staring deeply into your eyes, you can feel his sincerity. The breath in your throat is caught and you’re unable to conjure up a reply. 

“I know that old version of me is stuck in your mind, but I don’t want to be like that anymore. I’m willing to pick you up, no matter the distance. I wish you knew that sooner,” he vows, eyebrows scrunching as he tries to convey his feelings to you. 

“I’ll tell you my secret since you told me yours. I don’t think I would be able to say this while I’m sober,” you begin to lay your heart out bare for him. 

Taking a moment to think about how you want to word your confession, you grasp the hand that’s cradling your head. Intertwining your fingers with his once again, you stare at Wonwoo like he’s the answer to all your problems. 

The siren-like voice that sings within your heart is finally able to release itself from the prison your brain had placed it in. All you’ve wanted from Wonwoo was for him to love you, and on the off chance he feels the same way, then you’re willing to take the plunge into the deep waters of the unknown. 

“I don’t know if you remember me telling you, that time during our fight. I was–I am in love with you. I know you don’t feel the same way, I understand, but I don’t think I can be friends with you after this.” 

“Real or fake, whatever you are or whatever this moment is. I’m still in love with you. I hate that I can’t tell you this without feeling scared or ashamed. I’ve loved you since the moment you came into class with your big nerdy glasses. I’ve loved you since you came back for a senior year when you had everyone’s attention on you. And I’ve loved you even when you were in love with someone else.” 

Taking a breath, you stop your tangent for a moment before beginning again. 

“I’ve loved you during everything we’ve been through together. Even when I chose to ignore you, I woke up every morning with you still on my mind. It was hard, and I don’t know why I couldn’t let go of my feelings for you but a part of me was always hoping that one day you would feel the same way.”  

It’s done. There was nothing you could do to backtrack on your words. No time machine to take away your confession and erase it from his memory. Your heart felt free for the first time in years, and the weight on your shoulders lightened exponentially. 

Wonwoo doesn’t dare speak, and your pulse quickens from his prolonged silence. The mere seconds that passed felt like an eternity, and that was enough to bring you out of your drunken state. 

“Will you still love me tomorrow? When it's morning, and you’re sober. Will I still be the one you love?” Wonwoo's voice is timbre, barely loud enough to hear over your beating heart. 

“Yes. Even when you weren’t around. Even when you weren’t available, I still loved you,” you admit to him. 

The fingers that were laced with yours move to your jaw, Wonwoo’s palm tracing every outline of your face. The rough skin from his thumb contrasts the softness of your cheek. Memorizing every line and wrinkle, he continues to caress you, as if he was communicating with his touch. 

“If you didn’t want me tomorrow, you’d still be the person I wake up thinking about.  I hated not knowing whether you meant what you said,” he pauses, clarifying his jumble of words, “the night we fought, I mean. Because I heard you, even when I was blinded with jealousy and anger. I had hoped you meant what you confessed to me that night.” 

The sinking feeling in your stomach doesn’t subside. There hadn’t been a day in all the years you’ve known your best friend where you thought you would hear him reciprocate the feelings you were holding deep down inside you.

“What I’m trying to say is that I’m in love with you. I’m sorry it took so long for me to realize that it was you all along. I don’t know why I never admitted it to myself, but you’ve been in front of me this whole time.” 

The pad of Wonwoo’s thumb shadows over your bottom lip, your breath hitching under his touch. With soft eyes and an even softer touch, Wonwoo couldn’t take his hands off you. There was no lewd denotation behind his actions, just wanting to feel his skin against yours. 

“I feel so much regret because you were always the one person I truly wanted and I never acted on those instincts,” Wonwoo confided, the weight of his words seeping into you with a profound sense of awareness. 

“I’m yours, Wonwoo. That will never change,” you speak frankly. 

“Just promise me you’ll love me tomorrow too,” he chokes out. 

“I’ll love you even if there is no tomorrow.” 

chapter two, the first day of junior year. 

Before the age of sixteen, everything was a blur. Your routine was mundane, with average grades, average parents, and an even more average love life. Before the age of sixteen, there were no particular moments in all your years worth noting. It wasn’t until you met Wonwoo on the first day of eleventh grade. 

Once you laid your eyes on him, you saw the potential of a new friendship. However, your teenage self didn’t realize how deep-rooted Wonwoo would become in your life from that day forward. 

“Hi! It’s nice to meet you. Wonwoo right?” You greeted, your figure looming over Wonwoo who was sitting at the picnic table in the school's courtyard. 

The September sun shone bright, blinding Wonwoo as he placed a hand over his eyes to get a better look at the stranger in front of him. 

You explicitly remembered him eating lunch alone while playing Super Smash Bros on his Nintendo Switch. His black hair was long and covered his forehead, glasses were thick and large-framed. Wonwoo was a breath of fresh air from the other boys at your school. Unlike the rest of them, he was more reserved and didn’t talk much. His silence intrigued you. 

“Hi?” he replied as a confused frown graced his lips before he returned to his game.

Deciding to ignore his introverted personality, you introduce yourself. You take out your lunch box, unveiling the spam musubi you prepared the night before. 

“Do you mind if I join you?” you ask him even though you’ve already begun unpacking the food from your bag. 

“Well, I guess it’s okay,” he shrugged, interested in everything but the person sitting beside him. 

Peering closer at his screen, you watched with intent. The two characters fighting on a floating stage, Wonwoo spamming buttons with expertise. You’ve played Super Smash Bros before, but you weren’t as good as him. 

“Are you playing Smash Bros? You’re really good,” you mumbled, taking a bite of your food. 

“Thanks.” 

Miffed by his lack of speech, you continued to watch him play, his triangle kimbap left ignored as he focused on winning. 

“You can do multiplayer with this right? Can I play too?” you asked him, observing his gameplay over his shoulder. 

He shoots you a quirked eyebrow before returning his attention to his screen. Three to zero. You found Wonwoo to be an expert compared to your novice skills. 

“You know how to play?” Wonwoo stared at you in disbelief. 

“Duh! Sometimes Seokmin brings his switch for spare period. I only play Cloud or Bayonetta though,” you explained. 

Wonwoo looked impressed with your knowledge of the characters. He shrugged his shoulders before setting up his switch into a two-player mode. Handing you the red switch controller, you shook your head in refusal. 

“Nope. I can only play with the blue controller.” 

“Huh? How does that even make sense?” He scoffed but gave you the blue one anyway. 

Taking the controller from his hands, you gave him a grateful smile. 

“Blue is my favourite colour,” you told him, bumping your shoulder with his. 

Wonwoo is confused by your outward personality, unsure of how to react to you being so comfortable with someone you had just met, but he didn’t complain. It was his first day at a new school and it wouldn’t be so bad making a new friend as soon as possible. 

The player screen lit up and you quickly decided on Cloud, while Wonwoo opted to play Kirby. Smart, you thought. If played correctly, Kirby can easily absorb the abilities of his opponents. 

With a randomly chosen stage, the game commenced. It didn’t take long for Wonwoo to win. He was more experienced than you were, but you had fun nonetheless. 

“You’re terrible at this,” He chuckles, looking at you with a cat-like smile. 

The smitten grin on your face was difficult to hide as you stared back into his eyes. Something shifted in you that day, and it marked the first time you saw Wonwoo in a romantic light. Call it cliche for falling for him so quickly, but you couldn’t help it, you were only human after all. 

“I never said I was good,” you shrugged, feigning innocence. 

“I guess you’re right.” 

“Can we play again tomorrow?” 

“Sure,” Wonwoo nodded his head, placing down his switch to get back to his food. 

Enraptured by him from that moment on, you found yourself hopelessly wishing to become closer to Wonwoo. If there was one sure thing about you, it was persistence. From that day forward, you didn’t leave Wonwoo’s side, spending your lunch under the autumn sun and playing games on his switch. 

… 

october of junior year. 

[10:00 p.m]  [you: did you finish ur hw? :D] [wonwoo: yes. did u?] [you: nope :( it was hurting my brain so im watching nana]  [wonwoo: nana?] [wonwoo: never heard of it]  [you: omg…] [you: it’s the best anime ever!!]  [wonwoo: i didn’t know u liked anime] [you: uve got a lot to learn abt me wons] [wonwoo: wons?] [you: my nickname for u obvs hehe]  [*you changed wonwoo’s nickname to wons*]  [wons: ok]  [you: u should watch it. It WILL change your life]  [wons: ok, maybe later. gotta go to bed. see u tmrw]  [you: ok grandpa :p see u tmrw!!] [you: bring ur switch!]  [wons: sure. bye.] 

…

“Wonwoo! Wait up for me,” you hollered, waving your hand in the air even though his back was facing towards you. 

Turning around, Wonwoo stared blankly as you ran up to him. Halting his steps, he waited for you to catch up. The backpack you were wearing flops up and down as you picked up your speed. 

The weather was colder now, and the leaves morphed into deeper shades of yellow and red. Wind whistling as you finally reached where he stood, you gave him a bright smile, so bright that it offset the gloomy sky. 

“Morning,” he greeted you. 

Air knocked out of your chest, and you folded over with your hands on your knees, trying to calm your racing heartbeat. Wonwoo grasped your elbow to help, but this didn’t help your already out-of-breath state. His touch caused sparks to erupt under your skin. Luckily, the commotion caused by your run concealed your nerves. 

“Why didn’t you tell me we lived on the same street?” you heaved while Wonwoo used his grip to help you stand straight.

“How was I supposed to know?” he rebutted. 

Rolling your eyes at him, you knew he was right. But if you had known sooner, you could’ve spent your previous mornings walking with him to school. 

“Can we walk to school together from now on then?” you batted your eyelashes at him, shooting him a sweet smile. 

“I don’t mind,” he shrugged his shoulders again. 

You’ve found Wonwoo to be quite nonchalant, his reactions never more than a distant stare, a chuckle, or a shoulder shrug, no in between. Wonwoo’s lack of care for anything and everything is what endeared you the most. Despite his standoffish personality, you knew there was more to him deep down. He didn’t talk much, but his actions spoke louder than his words did. 

… 

november of junior year.

Thanks to your English teacher, Mr. Park, you and Wonwoo have been paired up for your biology project. Not only did that mean you would get to spend more time with Wonwoo but it also meant you secured a good grade for the assignment. 

Science in general has never been your strong suit, but whenever you asked Wonwoo to explain the concepts to you, everything somehow made sense. 

The walk to his house was nerve-wracking. It was the first time going over to a boy’s place, and the fact that it was Wonwoo made you even more anxious. He didn’t talk much about his family unless you asked. The only thing you knew was that he had an older brother named Seongho. 

“Ma! I’m home,” Wonwoo greeted his mother, and you're taken aback by how loud his voice got. 

Due to his introverted personality, Wonwoo didn’t talk at school unless spoken to, and it was exciting to finally see him in a setting where he was comfortable. 

His mom poked her head out from the kitchen and gave you both a warm smile. Patting her hands off the apron, she immediately pulled you into a hug. She smelt like lavender and vanilla, giving off a homey aroma. 

“Wonwoo! You didn’t tell me you got a girlfriend,” she exclaimed, pinching her son’s cheek. 

Wonwoos's face flared red, and he retracted from his mother's touch. “She’s not my girlfriend. We have a project to work on.” 

“Oops! Sorry. You two had better get to work then. I’ll call you when the food is ready. You’ll stay for dinner, right dear?” She beamed down at you. 

“If you and Wonwoo don’t mind, then I can,” you grinned at her while Wonwoo was urging you upstairs. 

“Of course, I don’t mind. It’s nice to see my little Wonwoo making friends at his new school,” she cooed at her son, which had him rolling his eyes. 

“Mom, I’m sixteen,” Wonwoo groaned, discreetly stepping towards the direction of his room. 

“Thanks, Mrs. Jeon!” you responded as Wonwoo dragged you by the wrist, hauling you along with him. 

His fingers are wrapped around your forearm, trying to get you away from his Mom as fast as he could. 

The moment you stepped into his room, you found it cleaner than an average teenage boy’s would be. Your eyes panned over his space, spotting the gaming pc in the corner. Marvelling at the RGB lighting, you gasped at the clicky-ness of the keyboard. 

“Woah… this is so cool!” you gushed, tapping random keys to feel the switches underneath. 

“I guess,” Wonwoo muttered, shutting the door behind him. 

The closed door muffled any sound from outside his room, and you were left alone with Wonwoo and the silence he brought along with him. 

“Your mom is really nice,” you chirped. 

Wonwoo responded with a shrug of his shoulders. Classic. Instead of saying anything more, he took the poster board out of his bag and placed it on his bed. 

“We should get started,” Wonwoo said firmly. 

You could only sigh at how serious he was about school. Of course, you knew the importance of diligence when it comes to projects and assignments, but you felt that this was the perfect time to learn more about your new friend. 

Sitting beside him on his bed, you crossed your legs and took the large biology textbook out of the bag alongside your laptop. 

“Inherited genes and Sickle-cell anemia, sounds boring,” you huffed. 

Wonwoo ignored your statement and grabbed the textbook from you to look up information that would help with your project. 

“Don’t you think we’re working on this too early? We have like…two weeks,” you whined. 

“The sooner we get this over with the better,” he nipped, flipping the pages without a single glance over at you. 

The brightness of your laptop illuminated Wonwoo’s dim room. Aside from the computer and his bedside lamp, the rest of his lights were off. Opening up the doc, you couldn’t help but sneak glances over at him. 

Wonwoo fixed his glasses, pushing the frames up his tall nose. You couldn’t stop yourself from staring. There was something about him that made him undeniably handsome, your teenage brain couldn’t comprehend it. 

“Y’know Mr. Park is pretty chill. We don’t have to do this all in one night.” 

“I know,” Wonwoo muttered, still reading the textbook, looking for information to cite for your project. 

Wonwoo could feel your eyes focused on him, but he ignored them, pretending to read the words on the page instead. Wonwoo didn’t mind that you had a habit of staring at him, but he didn’t know how to spark conversation. You were quite talkative, so he decided that it was better for you to take the lead. 

Putting up with his adamance, the two of you worked on your project for a good hour before you decided that the words "sickle cell" and "genes" were hurting your eyes. 

“Can we take a break, it feels like my brain is going to pop out of my skull,” you sighed, flopping against his mattress. 

Wonwoo shot you a scolding expression but gave in to your wishes. And like a lightbulb had gone off in your head, you quickly got back up. Furiously typing on your laptop, you go onto the illegal site where you had NANA bookmarked. 

“How about we watch an episode? You haven’t started it yet right?” you enquired, looking at him with the biggest grin on your face. 

“I haven’t, no,” he answered you. 

With a squeal, you clicked on the first episode while making yourself comfortable. Wonwoo moved next to you, and excitement coursed through your veins. His warmth radiated off him, and the feeling of him sitting so close made butterflies erupt within you. 

Despite Wonwoo’s reluctance to take a break from schoolwork, you found him genuinely interested in the show. Nothing could compare to the feeling of sitting in silence with him, just enjoying his presence as NANA played on your laptop. 

For the rest of your self-declared break, you and Wonwoo got through the first two episodes. 

There was a part of you that wondered if he could hear how fast your heart was racing, being that close to him. But you felt daring in that moment, allowing yourself to rest your head against his shoulder. Wonwoo stiffened slightly at your proximity but didn’t budge. If anything, he relaxed further. So you stayed in that position, if he could hear your thumping pulse, you didn’t care. 

“Well, what do you think?” you looked up at him, curious about his first impression. 

“It’s good. Nana seems very naive though,” he disclosed, pushing his glasses up once again. 

“Hmm, interesting. The plot gets better the more you watch, so I hope you’ll give it a chance,” you gave him a shy smile which he returned. 

Any other person probably would’ve refused to watch this show with you. Knowing Wonwoo, he was more into shounen than shoujo or slice of life. Yet, he spent an hour watching an anime that was out of his usual genre. It made you feel safe. Safe enough to talk about your interests without worrying whether or not he’d find you bothersome. 

“Sure. I think I liked it enough to watch on my own,” he admitted. 

“Wait. Really?” you gasped, shocked that he enjoyed it. 

“Yeah. At least then we have more to talk about,” he specified.

The smile on your face broadened, and you leaned into him even more as you both stared ahead, starting the third episode. Once again, he didn’t stop you. Instead, Wonwoo wrapped his arm around your shoulder pulling you closer to him. 

“You’re a good friend Wons,” you confirmed. 

“And you’re my only friend,” he confessed, patting your shoulder. 

“Don't worry. I’ll always be your friend,” you mumbled before staring deeply into his eyes. 

Wonwoo chuckled at your words, nodding his head in agreement. 

“I feel like I should be the one saying that,” he mused, his thumb rubbing circles into your skin. 

“It’s okay. I’m glad I decided to sit next to you on the first day of school,” you laughed, reminiscing about that warm September day. 

“I’m glad too.” 

After that day, Wonwoo had become more comfortable with talking to you about the things he didn’t share with others. He made you feel special. Although you had close friends like Seokmin and Mingyu during your first two years in high school, there were parts about yourself that you knew you couldn’t unveil to them. 

It wasn’t that they were judgmental or bad friends; Wonwoo just brought out something different in you. Although it took a while to break him out of his shell, he continued to reveal more about himself the more time you spent with him. 

The closeness that you two shared that night in his bedroom, watching NANA on your laptop sparked a flame inside you. Wonwoo took over every crevice of your mind, his scent, his touch, even if it was a mere hand on your shoulders, you didn’t want to go a day without him. Life was meaningless before you met Wonwoo, a blur of memories you couldn’t pinpoint. Now that he was with you, you didn’t want to ever go back to a time when he was not by your side. 

chapter three, present time. 

Sunlight pours through your curtains, hitting your eyes with a blinding sheen. The ache of last night's decisions trickles down your head and into the tense muscles of your shoulders. You can only curse your past self for drinking way more than your limit allows. 

Whatever had happened last night felt straight out of a movie, especially because it had caused you to dream about Wonwoo finally being yours. As you recollect the memories of yesterday, the pang in your heart intensifies. 

The oddly vivid visions of you and Wonwoo cuddling under blankets leave a bitter taste in your mouth. It felt so real you could almost smell the faint lingering scent of his cologne on your sheets. But alas, it was just another drunken fantasy you wish you could live in. 

“I’ll love you even if there is no tomorrow.”

You almost scoff at how cheesy you sounded in your dream. What kind of fool speaks this articulate after countless shots of tequila? 

The sounds of pots clanging brings you out of your thoughts, and you practically jump off your mattress and run to the entrance of your room. Placing an ear against the thick wood, you listen carefully for signs of an intruder. There’s a grunt that resounds through your apartment and has sirens blaring in your mind. You must’ve been very drunk last night, and stupid enough to leave your door unlocked. 

There was nothing in your bedroom that could be of use to you in a situation like this. Except for the dildo that June gifted you for your birthday last year. With a defeated sigh, you decided that it was needed during this life-or-death situation. Opening up your drawer you carefully take out the pink sparkly dildo that was still left in its packaging, gripping it tightly as you burst through the door. 

Screaming, you lunge towards the intruder’s large frame with your eyes shut tight, smacking him repeatedly with the phallic piece of plastic. 

“Get out! You freak! Get out!” You shriek, hitting his back with a large thump. 

The intruder groans in pain, the sound of his discomfort all too familiar. Halting your assault on his naked back, you open your eyes. Only for your sight to befall an extremely muscular and shirtless Wonwoo. 

“Ow! What the fuck?” Wonwoo grunts, turning around to see your smaller frame gripping a bright pink dildo. 

His eyes widen with recognition, adjusting his glasses, he chuckles at you and your dishevelled state. The sex toy in your hand falls to the ground as you stare at him with an expression filled with not only pure shock but horror. 

Never in your life did you think that Wonwoo would be the one standing shirtless in your kitchen. The idea of someone breaking into your house seems more plausible than whatever is happening before your eyes right now. 

“I’m tryna make you breakfast, and this is how you repay me?” Wonwoo laughs, grabbing the toy from your kitchen floor and placing it down on the counter. 

“I-Uhm. It’s a gift! Yeah,” you stutter, “June gave me it last year as a gift. It’s unused, I promise.” 

Wonwoo quirks an eyebrow at you, stepping forward, crowding you with his large chest. The counter hits your back and you find yourself caged between the granite and Wonwoo’s naked upper half. 

“So you used it to hit me instead?” Wonwoo deducts, his palms gripping the counter so you have nowhere left to run. 

Despite the awkward situation you put yourself in, your mind is elsewhere now that Wonwoo has you in his hold. The words that you want to come out of your mouth are clogged with Wonwoo’s bare chest, the only thing you’re able to focus on. 

“W-well, I thought you were breaking in so,” you start but Wonwoo cuts you off. 

“Do you not remember what happened last night, darling?” He asks you, and the breath in your throat is caught. 

“Last night? I-I thought that was a dream,” you mutter, still staring deeply into his eyes. 

Sighing, Wonwoo pushes the loose strand of hair behind your ear before cupping your cheek. His thumb moves languidly against your skin while you lean into his touch even more. 

“No. It wasn’t a dream. I told you I loved you last night and I meant it,” he clarifies, earnest with his confession. 

“I love you too,” the words spill out of your mouth effortlessly, like you were meant to tell him all along. 

Grinning down at you, Wonwoo places a gentle kiss on your lips. His large hands cupping your face as he does so. 

Pulling back he smiles at you once again, satisfied with the one little peck that he had given you. But you can’t help but pout. You wanted more from him, but there was a lot to address than just the feelings you two shared last night. 

Like the dildo suctioned to your counter, for example. 

“Why are you shirtless?” you ask, starting with the first thing in front of you. 

“Because darling, you’re wearing my shirt,” answering nonchalantly as he turns back to hand you a plate of eggs and bacon. 

Oh, right. You look down at the white shirt that’s draped over your frame. Dumbfounded, you mumble a quick thanks before nibbling on the food he gave you. 

Wonwoo grips your hand, pulling you to sit down on the couch with him. You weren’t sure what else to say, opting to focus on the food in front of you instead. If there was something Wonwoo wanted to mention, you gave him the time to do so. 

“You probably don’t remember me helping you get ready for bed. You were kinda out of it once we got home,” he explains. 

With your legs crossed on the sofa, you nod, processing the information before waiting for him to continue. 

Wiping the corner of your mouth, Wonwoo’s lips are upturned into a fond smile. Your cheeks grow hot as he continues to stare. 

“Whatever happened last night wasn’t a dream. I do love you, I mean it. I want to be yours if you’ll give me a chance,” he professes. 

All while you’re sitting there eating strips of bacon and a couple of eggs. You had been mistaken to think that last night was some fever dream because this moment is more fitting. 

For anyone else, eating while Wonwoo is admitting his love for you would be odd, and out of the ordinary. But this felt natural somehow like a different version of you in some other universe has already experienced it. 

“I just want to be yours, Wonwoo.” you sigh, placing your plate on the coffee table. 

Inching closer to him, you place yourself on his lap, your hands circling his broad shoulders. Your head makes itself at home in the dip between his shoulder and neck as you breathe in his cologne. 

Lazy Sunday Morning. Your favourite. 

“I’ve always just wanted to be yours,” your voice is meek, muffled from hiding your face against his skin. 

Wonwoo’s hand rubs up and down the expanse of your back, and you relax under his touch. Completely disarmed under the daze of your subsiding headache and the steady inhale and exhale of his breath. 

Nothing else in the world matters to you when you’re in his hold. Outside disruptions are muted, the only thing that can be heard is your heart pounding within the confines of your chest. 

Pulling back from where your head was resting, you drink in Wonwoo’s every feature. The ones that you’ve memorized and the ones you’ve missed from never being this close to him. You want to know all of him, want to feel and see all of him. 

With the most delicate of motions, you place your lips over his. There’s a ruggedness to his skin, yet he feels so gentle against you all at the same time. The softness of love that you’ve never experienced before. There haven’t been many instances where you’ve got to kiss someone so deeply, yet it’s the least of your worries. All that matters to you now is Wonwoo. 

He tightens his grip on your waist, pulling you closer to him, which almost seemed impossible. But he makes it happen anyway, clutching onto you like his life depended on it. 

“Wonwoo.” Pulling away, you whimper breathlessly, wanting more and more of him. 

The sweet sounds that erupt from you cause a groan to leave his throat, crashing his lips against yours once again. The tenderness that was evident before is overtaken by the heat of lust. Like tides to an ocean, Wonwoo kisses you with full force, and you don’t care if you can barely breathe or if your heart is suddenly going into overdrive. You’d rather suffocate in his grasp than go another minute without him all over you. 

“You’re fucking perfect, darling,” Wonwoo whispers in your ear, his lips trailing down your cheek and down to your neck. 

Your head lolls with pleasure, feeling him press hot kisses against your scorching skin. Tiny licks here and there that force your eyes to roll back, you find purchase in his black locks, tugging at them in an attempt to ground yourself. 

“Be my girlfriend. Be mine, please,” Wonwoo speaks in hushed tones, his lips searing against the shell of your ear. 

You moan out, nodding your head as his hand moves down to squeeze the meat of your ass. He pulls you right onto his hardening length, your sleep shorts leaving nothing up to the imagination. The hands he has placed on your bottom forces you to drag your hips back and forth against his clothed dick. 

“Yes, I want it so bad. I wanna be yours, forever,” you sigh, mustering up enough brainpower to answer him.

Before you two could get any further the shrill of a ringtone brings you out of your lustful state. Wonwoo refuses to let you go, instead, he keeps you firmly on his lap while he answers the phone. 

You can’t help but giggle at how frustrated he looks. Eyebrows furrowed with a disappointed frown on his swollen lips. He’s still hard against you, and the thought of teasing him while he’s speaking to someone over the phone seems like a brilliant idea. 

“What do you want, Jeonghan?” Wonwoo grumbles, his hand moving under your shorts to squeeze you properly. 

While his hand massages into the fat, you kiss up his neck while rubbing yourself against his clothed cock. His voice becomes strained, attempting to cover up the sounds of pleasure he’s emitting with a cough. 

“What? You had to call me just for that?” Wonwoo seethes, yet he continues to play with your ass as he takes his call. As if you’re some type of stress ball to relieve his vexation. 

“No. She’s right beside me,” he mumbles and you perk up now that his attention is back on you. 

Grabbing the phone that he’s holding, you greet Jeonghan through the speaker. 

“Hi Hannie!” 

“Hi, beautiful. Are you down to go to my place tonight? Everyone’s coming over,” Jeonghan explains, his voice like honey. 

Wonwoo rolls his eyes at the pet names, clearly unamused by his friend's flirty personality. Without a second to waste, he dives into the skin at the base of your neck, trickling down to your exposed shoulder where the collar of his shirt fails to cover. 

“O-of course! We’ll see you later, okay?” you stutter, unable to focus with Wonwoo all over you. 

“Got it! Don’t be late, love you!” He says his goodbyes before hanging up. 

“Love you too!”

Wonwoo stops in his tracks, his eyes piercing into yours, deadly and swirling with desire. The phone in your hand is discarded somewhere on the floor before he grabs your face, pinching you with his thumb and index finger. 

“You’ve got a lot of nerve baby, teasing me like that. Telling Jeonghan you love him,” Wonwoo spits, but there's amusement behind his serious tone. 

“M’sorry, I’ll make it up to you later, okay? I want to get ready for Jeonghan’s thing,” you smile at him cheekily as you release yourself from his hold. 

“Oh I’m sure you will,” he huffs, but lets you go anyway.

Acting unaffected, you get up from his lap, running to the bathroom to start a shower while you leave Wonwoo hot and bothered on the couch. You can’t help but giggle to yourself, excited for whatever awaits you later on. 

The pain and undeniable suffering you had gone through seemed like a memory of the past. The years of yearning for your best friend are nothing but another fever dream. At least you wish it was all a dream, but now that you have Wonwoo in this reality, you don’t want to let him go. 

It's almost laughable how quickly things can change overnight, it felt like yesterday you were crying yourself to sleep over Wonwoo not reciprocating your feelings, and now you have him shirtless on the couch after a very hot make-out session. 

This must be what your heart was telling you all along. This must be what was beyond the dark water of the unknown. You’re thankful you took the plunge because the risk of unveiling your true feelings has given you something undeniably saccharine in return. 

Kiss it Better. 

chapter one.

When Wonwoo met you for the first time, he couldn’t help but find you annoying. You had a habit of sticking to his side when he chose to spend time alone, but in hindsight, it brought him more joy than annoyance. 

He had always been a shy kid and preferred to sit alone at lunch playing games or reading. But when you came into his life, he realized that some company isn’t so bad after all. 

Now that he’s older, and the two of you have grown together, he wouldn’t replace your presence for anyone else. There was something about your personality that made him feel comfortable. It wasn’t long before Wonwoo found a home within you, from your bright smile to your incessant need to play Super Smash Bros each lunch period. He’s thankful he had decided to let the walls he built up come down for the sake of your friendship.

… 

It wasn’t long before the two of you arrived at Jeonghan’s apartment. The door was left unlocked for others to come and go as they pleased. Music was blasting from his surround-sound speakers. Wonwoo wasn’t sure how his friend was able to get away from noise complaints, but he decided that it wasn’t any of his business. 

The only thing he was looking forward to was the look on Seokmin’s face once he saw that you were finally his. 

Wonwoo didn’t care that it was selfish of him to arrive with you draped on his arm; he wanted everyone to know that you were off limits. He simply couldn’t wait to see the reactions that would erupt from his friends once he disclosed that he’d claimed his mark on you. 

“Wonwoo!” Jeonghan calls out for him, standing by the island pouring drinks for him and Seungcheol. 

His attention diverges, stalking over to his friends with your hand clasped in his. The small action doesn’t go unnoticed as he watches Jeonghan briefly glance over to your intertwined hands. 

The pride brewing in his chest swells, you look irresistible and he knows what awaits him later on when you two get home. But he can indulge in his fantasy later, for now, he’ll settle for admiring your beauty in a more discreet way. Which wasn’t all that methodical in retrospect, because he can’t take his eyes off you. 

Your skirt is short and the frilly lace top you’re wearing shows off your cleavage tastefully. If Wonwoo had it his way, he wouldn’t have let you out of your apartment till the sun was up the next morning. 

“Hello, beautiful. You look amazing,” Jeonghan greets you, forcing you to take your hand out of his grasp to hug your extremely flirtatious friend.

The absence of your touch irked him, but he let you go, not wanting to startle the rest of the group with his growing possessiveness. 

“Thank you, Hannie,” your voice muffles from being engulfed in Jeonghan’s arms. 

“Alright, that’s enough,” Wonwoo gripes, clearly bothered with the way his friend is holding you. 

“You’re no fun,” Jeonghan rolls his eyes, before whispering something incoherent in your ear, causing a giggle to erupt from your sweet lips. 

Jeonghan lets go of you anyway, giving into Wonwoo’s sour attitude. 

“You guys just got here! Don’t tell me you’re going to be grumpy the whole time,” Jeonghan teases. 

 “I’m not grumpy, you just have grabby hands and I don’t need you all over my girlfriend for the rest of the night,” Wonwoo grumbles bitterly, taking ahold of your wrist to pull you closer to him. 

He sees the way you roll your eyes, but deep down he knows you enjoy how commanding he can become, especially with you. 

“Girlfriend huh? That’s a big word for you,” Jeonghan laughs while raising his eyebrows. 

“Jeonghan!” you gasp, amusement sparkling in your eyes. 

Wonwoo gives the two of you an irritated look before pulling you away to greet the rest of your friends. You don’t protest the way he handles you and he takes note of that. Who knew you could be so pliant, even in social situations? 

“You don’t have to worry about Jeonghan baby, you know how he is,” you murmur to him, shooting him a reassuring smile. 

“I’m not worried about him, darling,” he huffs. Jeonghan is the least of his worries. 

After what happened between you two this morning, Wonwoo can’t help but want you all for himself. God forbid you let Seokmin touch you the way he did. The mere thought of it made him feel sick. 

He understands that he shouldn’t have thoughts about you with other people, especially because he knows you haven’t dated anyone officially before. But now that you’re his, he has to make sure it stays that way.

“Okay, but still. Just relax, I'm not going anywhere,” you reassure him. 

Your gentle words and the soft squeeze you give him allow him to chill out a little more. He couldn’t help but be on high alert after what Seokmin put you through, after what he put you through. 

Wonwoo has the constant reminder that you’re both here for a good time, and even though he might not be able to hold himself back once his eyes are set on Seokmin, he continues to obey your wishes. 

Disappointment proceeds him as he feels you leave his side. Wonwoo lets go of you, allowing you to grab drinks from Jeonghan’s bar. Instead of wandering around like a loner, he sits on the couch, patiently waiting for your return. 

“Hey, Wonwoo? Do you remember me?” a girl’s voice brings him out of his thoughts. 

Turning to the person who forces themselves into the seat next to him, he frowns at her. She didn’t illuminate the room the way you did, and her voice was unpleasant to his ears. 

“No. Sorry,” he kept his response curt, not wanting to entertain the faceless stranger who was attempting to flirt with him. 

“It’s me? Josh’s friend. We met at Seokmin’s place last time,” she continued to press, and Wonwoo could feel his ears growing hot with annoyance. 

“Oh, right.”  

A hand is placed on his shoulder and he flinches away, he doesn’t want anyone but you touching him. It almost makes him want to throw up. 

“I have a girlfriend,” he quips, not wanting to prolong the interaction any longer. 

The girl beside him cackles, and Wonwoo really can’t stand the sound of her voice. 

“That’s never stopped me,” her voice lowers an octave in an attempt to sound seductive but Wonwoo feels nothing but repulsed by her very being. 

He moves further away from her, evidently angry with the way she’s coming onto him. Cursing at himself inside his mind, he should’ve never flirted with her to begin with. The puzzle pieces start to slowly align as he remembers that night at Seokmin’s place. It was that night that you went home without him, and the realization hit him like a truck. 

A part of him always wondered what moment had been your breaking point, and there she was, sitting right beside him. 

“I really don’t care,” Wonwoo doesn’t spare another glance, escaping her suffocating presence to search for you. 

Stopping in his tracks, he watches as Seokmin comes up to you, clearly apprehensive as you search Jeonghan’s fridge for a spare Diet Coke. The music is blaring, and the sheer volume of the speakers drowns out Seokmin’s voice. 

He watches as you start to notice that someone is talking to you, trying to get your attention. Wonwoo can see the pained expression in your eyes, and he can’t even blame you. Seokmin was your friend before he even met you, and he can’t even fathom the pain you’re feeling from losing someone so close to you. 

Sure, he understands the depth of your relationship with Seokmin, but that doesn’t stop the fury that is forcing its way through his veins. Smoke practically comes out of his nose and ears as he watches everything unfold before his very eyes. 

Seokmin is visibly trying to reason with you, his lips moving at lightning speed as you stand there holding your drink close to your chest. Every bone in Wonwoo’s body wants to go up to you and snatch you away as fast as possible. But he can’t help but relish in the sight of Seokmin so desperate for your attention. It’s satisfying to see your reactions morph from sorrow to anger the longer you’re frozen in your place. 

The second he sees tears beginning to well up in your eyes is the moment Wonwoo finally decides to take action. 

Marching up to you, he pulls you by the waist until you are glued to him. With a firm hand, he squeezes you tightly, staking his claim in front of Seokmin. 

“I’m sorr—,” the words Seokmin so desperately wants to say are cut off by Wonwoo’s presence. 

Wonwoo’s lips press into a thin line, gazing down at him with nothing but a look of disgust, and also triumph. Seokmin seems to realize he’s lost because he steps back slowly, shaking his head as his shoulders slouch with defeat. 

Wonwoo has won, and Seokmin can’t do anything to get in his way anymore. 

“I don’t know why you think you’re allowed to talk to her, but you should leave her alone from now on,” Wonwoo seethes, gaze unwavering. 

“Whatever man,” is all Seokmin can say before retreating into the crowd. 

Wonwoo turns you slightly, hand placed delicately on your cheek, scanning your features to make sure that you’re alright. 

“You okay darling?” he asks, before pecking your lips. 

“I’m okay. I don’t wanna be here anymore, can we go home?” you squeak, your voice faltering. 

Wonwoo hates to see you affected by someone so unimportant like Seokmin. 

He doesn’t think for another second before agreeing with your request. Bidding Jeonghan farewell while holding tightly onto your hand. Before either of you knew it, you were out the door and on the way back home. 

The unsavoury moments that happened while at Jeonghan’s place are gone with the wind as Wonwoo speeds down the road and back to your apartment. 

“Thank you for earlier, I was so in shock I couldn’t even move or speak,” you mutter, grabbing his palm and placing it on your cheek. 

Wonwoo feels your warmth and glances at you pouting as you stare out at the empty road. 

“It’s alright darling, you’re here now, that asshole is not going anywhere near you anymore,” Wonwoo reassures you as he takes your hand in his, giving you a comforting squeeze in an attempt to soothe the thoughts he knows are running through your head. 

The moment Wonwoo reaches your building, he quickly parks the car before running to the passenger side to open your door. His hand is out in front of him for you to hold while you take a step, doing everything he can to distract you from what happened.

Once the front door of your apartment closes behind him, you turn around with a cheeky smile. It almost gives him whiplash at how quickly your mood changes. 

“I didn’t peg you as the possessive type,” you remark, eyes glinting against the dim lighting of your living room lamp. 

“I'm not. But it’s different with you, darling,” he admits. 

Wonwoo rarely felt jealousy in his previous relationships, he knew he was in control either way. Although he knows how much you love him, he still finds himself peeved when someone other than him is close to you. There's a fire within him that he couldn’t extinguish, one that only you could put out. 

“You gonna give me what you promised earlier,” Wonwoo’s voice lowers an octave, crowding your smaller frame. 

He towers over you while watching the way your eyes shine over with intrigue. The image of you moaning for him is a vision he can’t erase from his mind, a vision he wishes he could replay over and over. 

“Depends. Were you jealous about Seokmin coming up to me?” you press, slender fingers tracing circles into his chest. 

Your touch felt like a crackling fire under his skin, Wonwoo’s thoughts were depleted of anything that could distract his awakening need to ravish you. 

“I think you know the answer to that already.”

Stepping closer to you, he places both his hands on your waist, pulling you in until you’re flush against him. His breath trails against your skin as he breathes you in, wanting to memorize the sweet notes of your perfume. The smell of lemon blossom and amber engulfs his senses. 

Amyris Femme. His favourite. 

You have always known how much he loves the smell of it on you. It’s simply addictive and intoxicating. Everything about you is always so sweet, from your honeyed eyes to your heavenly voice, the moans you exude dripping in sugar. From head to toe, you are everything Wonwoo’s ever wanted to indulge in, wanting to experience the high of you with all seven senses. 

He’s convinced that some higher power has sculpted you into everything he’s ever asked for. The universe had known all his preferences, and all his interests and bottled them up into one person. You. 

You. You. You. 

His.

 His darling.  

Cradling your cheek, he presses his lips against yours, truly savouring every brush of skin against yours. Drinking in your sweet scent through his taste and sense of smell. The longer the two of you stand there and make out, the more passionate it becomes. 

Wonwoo pushes himself against you even further, until he’s sure you can feel his already hardening length grow between you. 

You own him in so many ways, in ways you probably wouldn’t be able to comprehend. From his heart to his very soul, he’s yours. And he wants to show you how much of an effect you have on him. Wonwoo wants to show you how crazy you make him. 

Taking the lead, Wonwoo doesn’t relinquish his hold on you as you two slowly move to your bedroom. Opening the door while he leaves wet kisses up and down your neck with the goal of leaving marks against your delicate skin. 

“Wonwoo,” you sigh, your smaller hands gripping his biceps as he lays you down on the bed. 

Wonwoo doesn’t rush, taking his time to strip you of your clothes. His hands breeze against the bare skin of your stomach, pulling up your top along the way. Eyes zeroing in on the black lace that’s clad against your breasts, he can feel the drool starting to pool in his mouth. 

Your skirt is next, and with a hawk eye, he watches the way you lift your hips as he brings down the one thing that's obstructing him from completely devouring you. 

“Please, I wanna go faster,” you whine, squirming under his touch. 

Wonwoo refuses, he needs this moment to seep into his brain until it’s all he can see when his eyes are closed. The desperation emitting from you is almost tangible, but he can’t bring himself to waste a precious second. 

One leg after the other, and finally you’re bare, partially exposed under his body. 

Ready. Waiting. 

“I wanna savour you, darling,” Wonwoo’s baritone voice reverberates against the four walls that enclose the both of you. 

You sigh with annoyance and it only intrigues Wonwoo further. He never thought your brattiness would translate to the bedroom. How naive of him to think otherwise. Excitement courses through his veins, imagining all the fun he’s about to have with you. 

“Just fuck me please, I wanna feel you inside me,” you whisper in his ear, bringing him closer to you. 

“Holy shit, you can’t talk like that or I’ll have to give you what you want.” He groans, hooked on how sexy you sound. 

The cheeky smile you give him returns, and he’s bewitched by your beautiful features. Fully naked before him except for your bra and panties. 

Pinning you against the bed, Wonwoo regains control over his thoughts, the same thoughts that are screaming at him to take you in one go. He rebukes those sentiments, he knows what he wants. 

He knows what you need. 

“But I wanna know what it’s like. I know you wanna fuck me, so just do it.” 

Wonwoo almost loses his vision with the mere utterance of your words. How much of a nymph do you become once you’re horny? Something about the way you speak is so saccharine, putting him in a trance. You could force him into murdering someone with that tone, and he would do it with a smile on his face.

“You’re gonna have to try harder than that, baby,” his voice strains, the control he once had starting to lose itself within your lustful gaze. 

Thinking of ways to stop you from saying anything more, he rips your panties off in one go. Nimble fingers graze against your plush thighs, squeezing and pinching where he can. 

The whimper you let out is nothing but music to his ears. Seeing you desperate for his touch causes him to focus on his end goal. He wants you to unravel before him, deflowering you till you’re fucked out and panting his name. 

As he spreads your legs, he can’t help but allow his nose to trail against your inner thighs, inhaling the scent of your body emitted under the heat of his touch. He doesn’t stop until he’s at the apex of your sex, glasses fogged while the bridge of his nose is rubbing against your skin. 

Wonwoo finally allows himself to dive in. Ripping the frames off his face, teasing your folds with wet, hot kisses. He repeats his actions till you're moaning deliriously under him. 

“W-Wonwoo, please, fuck,” you cry out while he watches your hole clenching around nothing. 

One of the hands that was holding your thighs down moves to your entrance, teasing you before he slowly inserts a finger inside you. Your head hits the pillows while your eyes are screwed shut, and Wonwoo relishes in your pleasure. 

“God you’re so fucking tight, so wet,” Wonwoo mutters before licking at your clit. 

Nothing is more euphoric than hearing you struggle to contain yourself. His boner getting harder to ignore as the juices from your pussy squelch with every thrust of his finger. 

“Is that what you do when you touch yourself? Using your fingers to fuck this tiny hole?” He asks even though he knows you won’t be able to answer. 

You’re too busy twitching from his hands on you, gripping onto the sheets to the point the threads look like they’re about to tear. 

Wonwoo takes your silence as an answer before fully engulfing your cunt in his mouth. Practically making out with your pussy lips, he licks and rubs your sensitive heat till you writhe against him. 

“You taste so good darling,” he mutters before taking a deep inhale of your musk, “no one’s ever touched you like this huh?” 

“N-no. Just you,” you squeak. 

“Good girl.” 

Hooking your legs over his shoulders, his free hand moves up your body till he’s able to grope at your breasts. The feeling of the lace covering your pert nipples motivates him to make you cum faster. 

Your body vibrates within his hold while he resumes eating you out. Dipping his tongue into your entrance as his thumb goes to rub your clit in sharp circles. He can feel your abdomen retract from his actions. You're close. 

It’s only a matter of time before your juices begin to pour out of your pussy, flooding his mouth with sweet nectar. Wonwoo fully believes he could get drunk from the taste of your cum, the liquid gold dripping down his chin as he slurps and nips at your puffy bundle of nerves. 

“This pussy is mine,” he concludes, slapping your dripping core. 

Eyes drunk with lust, he smiles up at you. A smirk filled with pride as you’re left twitching against the mattress. Hair displaced against the pillowcases, skin glistening under the nebulous light of your lamp. 

Your room is filled with the aroma of sex and sweat, your chest heaving up and down as you come down from your high. Wonwoo’s length straining against his pants, he can’t neglect his need to fuck you for any second longer. 

Laying there, winded from your orgasm, he lets you watch him as he removes the clothes covering his body until there’s nothing left. Wonwoo’s abs and muscular arms flex as he releases himself from his tight pants. He clasps his palm around his cock, rubbing himself while staring down at your fucked out state. Grunts erupt from his throat while he rubs the bead of pre cum dripping down his tip. 

You stare at him, eyes lidded, before sitting up to take off your last piece of clothing. Your breasts bounce as you release them from the confines of your bra. The tip of your fingers graze your nipples, playing with them while Wonwoo stands over you, stroking himself. 

He’s so in deep, it’s the first time in a long time that he’s felt like he’s about to combust in seconds. He hasn’t even been inside of you yet, but he knows he could cum untouched at just the sight of you playing with yourself in front of him. 

“Will you fuck me now? Wanna feel you cum inside me,” you plead with doe eyes, your other hand coming down to your heat. 

He watches you insert a finger in yourself, pumping in and out, matching the rhythm of his movements. 

Before you can let out another sound of delight, Wonwoo halts whatever he’s doing to flip you around. With you on your stomach, he focuses all his attention on your plump ass. Groping you with rough palms, and your hips fly off the bed to give him better access. 

Retracting his hand, he comes down to you even harder. The slap on your skin echoes throughout your room. You squeak but he can see the juices starting to gush out of your pussy. 

Fuck, Wownoo is obsessed. Obsessed with your neediness, obsessed with the way your ass jiggles with every strike he lands on you. He simply can’t wait to be inside you, engulfed in the heat of your tight walls. 

“Hngh, Wonwoo!” you almost scream, your voice becoming nasally every time he hits you. 

The hand marks on your soft skin drive him crazy, and he knows that if he doesn’t fuck you soon, he’ll cum prematurely. 

“What a needy little thing. You want it that bad huh?” he taunts, spreading your ass cheeks, watching the wetness drip down to your thighs. 

“Please, take me please,” you continue to beg, your voice level as you stare at him over your shoulder. 

Your hips cant back and forth, waving your tight pussy in front of him. Enticing him to fuck you. 

“You’re a fucking brat, you know that?” Wonwoo grunts, slapping your sopping hole. 

Jerking forward, you let out a salacious moan, eyebrows furrowing as you slump back down onto the bed. 

“I’m being so patient, baby. Just stick your cock in me please,” you fuss, lifting your hips again. 

Wonwoo sighs, turning you over once again so you’re on your back. 

“You’re lucky I love you,” he grunts, grabbing your legs and pulling you towards him. 

Sitting on his haunches, he spreads you out, getting the perfect view of your glistening entrance. Taking his dick in his hand, he rubs the tip against your folds. You match his thrusts, moving up as he envelopes the underside of his length between your soaking lips. The sounds emitting from your bodies connecting is sinful and Wonwoo’s jaw goes slack, finally feeling your heat against his manhood. 

“God, this pussy.” 

“Wonwoo, fuck me,” you whimper, grabbing his biceps to pull him against you. 

Engulfing you into a heated kiss, he continues to slide his cock along your slit. The sheer wetness of your pussy lubricates him enough to move with a rushed pace. He’s not even inside you yet and he’s already starting to feel that knot form in his lower stomach. 

“You gonna be a good girl? Show me how bad you want this cock inside you?” he whispers, lips brushing along your own. 

“Yes. fuck yes,” you pant breathlessly. 

Slotting his arm between the two of you, he finally aligns his length with your entrance. He can feel you trying to get him inside you, thrusting up slightly to try and catch the tip so it pushes into your awaiting heat. 

But before you can get away with your tricks, he slaps your thighs. Wonwoo’s large hand presses you down firmly before you can get any further. 

“Liar. You said you were gonna be a good girl,” he spits, “don’t get impatient or I'm gonna leave you lying here without cumming again.” 

You pout at his words. Your cheeks are hot, and your eyes are teary. The things you make him feel, it’s unmatched. 

“Gonna breed this little cunt till you're stuffed full,” he groans, finally inserting his dick inside your heat. 

The gasp you let out is high-pitched. And Wonwoo’s head falls against the space within the dip of your shoulder. His hands are firm against your waist, thrusting into you until he’s fully sheathed in your pussy. Being inside you was like dipping into molten lava, the heat of your cunt enveloping him with such a tight grip he almost faints upon entering you.  

“How are you so tight?” Wonwoo curses. “You feel so good, baby.” 

He didn’t expect you to be gripping his cock like this. It’s like nothing he’s ever felt before. Your pussy is made for him with how snugly he fits inside you. 

“It’s so big, fuck!” you moan, breathing heavily. 

Wonwoo doesn’t give you enough time to adjust to his length, even though he should. Blinded by searing hot pleasure, he begins to pound in and out of you. Skin slapping as his thrusts become erratic. With eyes rolling to the back of your head, you pull at his strands of hair and he groans at the pain that mixes with the high your cunt gives him. 

At that moment, Wonwoo concludes that he doesn’t want anyone but you. For as long as he can, he wants to be the only one to fuck you, to give you orgasm after orgasm. Until you're spent and in and out of consciousness, he wants to be the only one who can make you feel this way. 

As if a curse is placed on him, your phone buzzes against your nightstand. Seokmin’s contact is on clear display for both of you to see. Wonwoo ceases his movements, sitting up and grabbing your phone from the nightstand. 

“Answer it,” he speaks firmly. 

“What?” 

“You heard me. Answer it and show him I’m the only one who can make you feel this good.” 

There’s a flash of panic in your eyes, but Wonwoo knows you’ll obey his wishes anyway. He knows how deeply you’ve fallen for him. You can’t refuse him despite the compromising circumstances, and he’ll continue to use it to his advantage. 

Length still buried to the hilt inside you, you swipe at your phone to answer. Wonwoo presses the speaker button before resuming his rushed pace. Bullying your hole while you attempt to at least seem coherent enough to answer Seokmin. 

“Seokmin?” You whisper, trying your best to conceal the moans that are threatening to slip past your lips. 

“Hey. I just wanted to call and say sorry about earlier. That was stupid of me—,” Seokmin attempts to get his apology in but he’s cut off by your moans. 

Wonwoo slaps your clit while thrusting inside you, his length enveloped in your velvety walls. 

“You okay?” Seokmin asks you, and Wonwoo’s satisfied by the scene in front of him. 

You’re flustered and trying your best not to reveal that you’re being fucked hard by your boyfriend, while your ex-friend is trying to reconnect with you. Key word, trying. 

“Tell him you don’t want to ever see him again,” Wonwoo grunts out as he continues to fill you up deliciously, thrusting inside you hard enough that Seokmin could probably hear it over the phone. 

“Fuck! Wonwoo! ‘M sorry Seokmin, but I don’t want you to talk to me anymore. Please, don’t contact me again.” Whimpers escape your lips and Seokmin stutters over the speaker. 

Wonwoo knows that Seokmin is aware of what’s happening on your side of the phone call. The line goes dead the moment you utter your last words to him. 

“Bet you liked that huh? You like it when I show everyone that you’re mine?” Wonwoo emphasizes while he continues to push past your entrance. 

“Yes. Shit,” you mewl out, clenching your walls against his thick cock. 

The ridges of your pussy massage Wonwoo in the most perfect way. Throwing his head back the slightest bit, he watches how his dick moves in and out of you. The creamy ring of your mixed juices pooling at the end of his hardness only arouses him further. 

“You gonna let me cum inside you?” Wonwoo questions, not to ask, but to make sure you’re prepared to feel his seed seeping into you. 

“Mhm. I wanna feel you fill me up,” you let out a breathy moan. 

Tossing you onto your stomach, Wonwoo pulls out and grapples you into the position he wants you in. Clutching onto your hips, he sits on his heels while forcing you onto his thighs. Your back against his chest, head lazing back onto his shoulder while Wonwoo’s muscular bicep wraps around your neck, placing you into a headlock. 

Entering your abused cunt once again, he assaults your pussy with enough force and strength to send you into another dimension. Wonwoo bounces you on his cock and you’re screaming his name at this point. His balls slap against your ass cheeks, while the juices from your hole drip down and onto his thighs. 

“I-I’m gonna cum,” you wail, your walls spasming. 

Wonwoo's balls retract while your pussy pulsates, your cum coating his dick. He pumps into you one more time until his sticky release fills your walls. The flood of semen overflowing while his red tip kisses your cervix, holding you firmly in place as he continues to cum inside you. 

“Hmph, it’s so good. Your cock feels so good,” your words are slurred as Wonwoo releases you from the headlock. 

Body slumping over, you push your ass in the air, giving Wonwoo the most delectable view of his cum overflowing past the lips of your bruised cunt. The thick white substance comes out in globs as you lay down with your legs spread. 

Wonwoo can feel the twitch in his cock, almost coming back to life as he watches your little pussy push out his cum. 

“You were so good darling, so good for me,” he mutters, kissing your temple as you lay there spent and exhausted. 

“Fucking love you and your big cock,” you mutter, turning around to kiss him passionately. 

Pride blooms within his chest, knowing he was your first. The elation Wonwoo feels is comparable to when you confessed your love for him. 

He’s finally won. You’re his, and he can’t wait to show you how much he loves you every chance he gets. Not only by fucking your brains out but also with dates and random acts of affection. He can’t wait to show you off, to let the world know that you’re his best friend and girlfriend. 

“Gonna clean you up okay? Then we can take a shower,” he imparts, wrapping you up in your blankets so you don’t get cold. 

“Wonwoo?” 

“Yes, baby?” 

“I love you,” you call out, smiling at him lazily, your eyes tired but full of fondness. 

“I love you, too.” 

…

Wonwoo woke up that morning feeling refreshed. The sunlight beaming down on him through your curtains. Your nude body is pressing into him. He loves how he can observe you so closely, taking note of every line and freckle on your skin. The rays of the sun hit you, causing your skin to glow beautifully. Your breath steady as you sleep peacefully, curled against his side. 

Wonwoo doesn’t know how long he was lying there admiring you and how gorgeous you are, but his excitement spiked when you began to stir. 

“Good morning darling,” he whispers wistfully in your ear. 

The smile that tugs along your lips makes his heart flutter, and he swears he’s never felt this whole in so long. He can’t remember the last time he felt happiness in its true form. The closest thing that made him experience this type of joy was that night in his bedroom watching NANA with you when you two were still in high school. 

“Morning,” your voice is sickly sweet, enough to have him grinning at such early hours in the day. 

Shifting from your spot, you prop yourself up using your forearms, hair moves swiftly with your movements.

“Sleep well?” 

There’s a shy smile on your face, eyes twinkling with the sunlight, and Wonwoo can only presume that it was you recollecting the memories of last night. 

“The best,” you mumble, leaning in to peck his lips. 

What was meant to be an innocent peck turns into something more heated. Wonwoo grabs you so you’re sitting on his lap, a squeak erupting from your throat as he manhandles you. 

“Wonwoo!” you yelp, slapping his bare chest. 

He doesn’t respond to your dumbstruck reaction, instead, he continues to kiss you, harder than before. That morning he woke up a victim to morning wood, and the only way he could even fathom relieving himself was to fuck you senseless. 

The angle he has you in is sinful, your bare cunt rubbing against his length, his hands firm on your hips, rubbing your folds against the underside of his cock. 

Your head is thrown back, submitting to the pleasure that Wonwoo continues to give you. Removing his hands, he lets you move on your own accord while he focuses on your breasts. His large hands squeeze the flesh, pinching your nipples till your eyebrows are strewn tight. 

“Oh fuck…,” your voice trails, your head coming down, entranced by how Wonwoo’s hardness slides between your pussy lips. 

Wonwoo groans, trying his best not to cum from how wet you’ve become from a little bit of foreplay. It almost feels like he’s still dreaming, watching your hips sway against him. The fuzzy feeling in his brain doesn’t cease, the same fuzziness he felt last night while you were under him, screaming his name. 

“You like that, huh?” He mutters against your skin, trailing kisses all over your chest. 

The same hands that were fondling your round breasts come down to your ass, lifting you. There is a whine that leaves you, and Wonwoo can feel your disappointment from the loss of contact. 

The whine you let out dies quickly as Wonwoo forces you down on his erect cock, pushing your hips till you’ve fit the whole thing inside you. The breath is knocked out of his throat as your warm walls welcome him back into your heat. Being inside you is life-changing, his hand dull in comparison to the feeling your tight hole gives him. 

“So big,” is all you can say. 

“Wanna see you ride me, baby,” he breathes out, trying to centre himself so he doesn’t spurt his cum inside you before you even get to move. 

Your fingers dig into the skin on his shoulders, and slowly, you lift yourself off him before slamming back down. Wonwoo grunts at your speed, not expecting you to use so much force. 

“Shit. Slow down darling,” he sputters, trying to control the way you're bouncing furiously on him. 

“I don’t wanna, it feels too good,” you pout, staring down at him with the most lewd expression. 

Your jaw goes slack, panting for him like a dog in heat. He can feel your walls clench with each stride you take and the words he had on the tip of his tongue evaporate into thin air. He knows if he allows you to continue he won’t be able to savour you on top of him. 

Instead of flipping you on your back, Wonwoo’s arms wrap around you, bringing you close to his chest. His feet are planted firmly against the mattress, he holds you tightly before fucking up into your delicious cunt. 

“This pussy is fucking mine,” he growls, emphasizing his words with each thrust. 

“Baby, I-I can’t, I wanna cum,” you sob, tears of pleasure running down your cheeks. 

“Cum for me darling, give it to me,” and as if on command, you do exactly that. 

Wonwoo’s palms drift to your ass, spreading your cheeks, squeezing them tight as he forces you to match his pace. Almost blinded by the sheer pleasure, he pumps into you a few more times before his semen floods your insides, thick and warm, it mixes with the nectar dripping from your heat. As he releases, he keeps his hands firmly on your waist, plugging you to ensure none of his cum spills out. 

The two of you lay like that for a while, catching your breath after Wonwoo had fucked your brains out. Again. In all honesty, he’s convinced that he’ll never get tired of fucking you. 

“I don’t think I’ll be able to walk tomorrow,” you sigh, voice muffled as you rest along the slope of his shoulder. 

“So we can’t go again?” Wonwoo asks, feigning innocence, “Hey! Ow!” 

The playful slap you give him on his bicep stings as he chuckles at your wordless response. 

“No more,” you refuse his request. 

“Oh, Wonwoo! You’re so big!” he imitates your voice from earlier, teasing you until you beg him to stop. 

Propping yourself up, his flaccid cock slips out of you, the cum spilling onto his abdomen. 

“You fucker!” you hit his chest again and Wonwoo erupts into a fit of laughter. 

“Oh baby, this pussy is mine.” Your voice lowered in multiple octaves, copying the words he spoke out of lust, “Not so funny now, is it?” 

Wonwoo continues to crack up at your embarrassed state, eyes turning to slits as he tries to calm himself down. 

“Actually, it’s pretty funny,” he attests, grabbing your chin to kiss your cheek. 

“Fine. I won’t say anything while we’re doing it anymore.” You complain, but he knows you secretly love it. 

Wonwoo quirks an eyebrow up at you, in love with your playful side. Still sitting on his lap naked while you’re bickering with him is just as hot as you riding him with your boobs in his face. 

“That wouldn’t stop me,” he shrugs, pretending to act nonchalant. 

The best part of fucking you is how vocal you are, and it drives him insane. 

“Whatever you horny loser,” you roll your eyes. 

Grabbing your arms he pulls you down against him again, kissing your neck, and he can feel you relax under his touch. 

“Says the one who has a massive dildo in their drawer,” he whispers in your ear before falling back onto the mattress, chuckling at your dumbfounded state. 

“I’ve already told you! It was a gift from June and it's unused,” you huff, emphasizing the word unused. 

“Sure it is,” he drawls, not convinced. 

“I'm serious! I literally took it out of the box before beating you with it.” 

“Whatever you say, darling,” he snickers before enveloping you in his arms, “let’s use it next time, yeah?” 

For the rest of the day, you both lay there, talking about the most random things after a long but steamy shower. With fresh sheets on the bed, the atmosphere is filled with nothing but warmth and utter joy. 

This past month or two has been a whirlwind of realizations. Realizations that have shifted the world around him into something beautiful. If someone had told him at the beginning of the school year that he would find a new meaning of love in you, he would’ve laughed with disbelief. But now that you’re here, sitting beside him with the most angelic smile on your face, he recognizes just how much comfort a single person can bring. Not even the fresh air that breezed through his fingers or the scent of the salty water misting its way onto the shore while he visited his hometown could outweigh the feeling of tranquillity that he got when he was with you.

Even though he regrets not confronting his feelings for you sooner, he can’t find a reason to complain. Everything had fallen into place, and for the first time since he was seventeen, he realized that the one person he was searching for was in front of him this whole time. 

epilogue. 

freshman year of university. 

[8:56 p.m.]  [you: raval tonite w junepi and the others?]  [wons <3: yeah but can we leave early? i wanna play league after :)]  [you: is this u tryna get out of drinking by being my dd?]  [wons <3: maybe] [you: fineee but we leave at 12] [wons <3: anything for u darling]  [you: darling?]  [wons <3: u like it?]  [you: yes!! its cute hehe]  [wonwoo has changed your nickname to “darling <3”] 

the end.

⊹ a/n: thank you for reading this story! this thing is my baby and i would love to hear your thoughts :) i appreciate everyone who took their time reading it because i poured my whole heart into it :") thank you again and see you in the next fic ♡ please rmbr to reblog and share your thoughts :3 it motivates me to continue writing stories like these for u ♡

[grahstumhurts]

2. Putting it into gear

Cheerleader!Megan x Loser Band Member!Reader

A/N Not proof read lol so it might have some weird wording and shit.

The late May air is starting to feel slightly humid and hot as it usually does by this time, Megan's waiting outside. Leaning on the side of the school fence looking effortlessly beautiful as she does.

“Hey” you greet her, “What did you need to talk about?” She looks up from her phone, then looks around behind you to see if people are watching.

“Look, I owe you an apology and-” 

“That's an understatement.” You cut her off. “Two years of ignoring me should get me something better than an apology”

“Just hear me out” 

She looks you in the eyes, Her pupils glistening with the caramelised apple colour it's always been.

“Please,” 

“Fine” You cross your arms in anticipation “You gonna tell me or what?”

“I need to fake date you, for friendship reasons I guess.” Obviously that stuns you, A girl you had a crush on for the past ten years of your life is suddenly asking you to fake date her. 

“What?” Your face contorts in a mix of surprise and confusion “Why me?”

“You're the only gay person I know, I’m trying to come out to them and they won't believe me till I date someone who fits their “Gay” vision” She sighs, her face portrays her obviously conflicted emotions. “Look its okay if you won't do it, You don't owe me anything especially since i abandoned you but at least sleep on it for me.”

She pauses, trying to read your face, noticing the slight differences in your eyes.

“I also needed to say sorry, I wasn't there when I promised I would be.” 

“I wont accept your apology for now, you need to earn my trust back, Megan.”

 You sigh at the dilemma, do you chose to help her with her fake dating thing, or do you leave her behind. 

“I’ll help you under one condition, We will stay friends afterwards.” 

You expect her to say no, the wavering tone in your voice saying so.

“Thank you so much, seriously I appreciate this. I owe you, N/n” She hugs you, Her scent lingering of fresh citrus and light berries. Her arms wrap around your waist, you instinctively wrap your arms around her shoulders.

“We need to figure out a plan for this whole situation.” You comment as you two break the hug, still feeling the lingering warmth of her. 

“Are you free this week to meet up?” 

“Tuesdays and Thursdays I meet up with my band, any other day we can meet up after school.”

“How about wednesday? I have practice, can you come watch and we can go somewhere after?” The thought of her friends seeing you makes your skin crawl as your reputation with these “Popular” people is not exactly great. Considering that you and Lara are the ones who stand up to Greg when he feels the need to degrade Yoonchae. You may or may not have gotten into some physical altercations with said Greg. 

“Sure, It’ll sell the idea that we are dating a bit more,” It’s a trade off that is worth it to make Megan happy. You shrug just as her phone rings, Her ringtone was not the same as the one you had remembered her to have. It had been her favourite song, Perfect Lover by Britney Spears. But now it's one of those default ones, Removing some of the personality from her.

“Yeah?"

"Oh, Okay."

"I’ll see you soon, Mom. Love you bye”

You can vaguely hear her moms voice throughout the quick phone call, her familiar tone isn't something you can forget easily. 

“You gotta go I assume?” you pick at your nails, “I can walk you home if you want?” You look up to her, trying to gauge her reaction through her body language. “Unless you dont want me to.. You know what forget i even said-”

“NO!” She suddenly cuts you off mid sentence “I mean, No” She clears her throat repeating her affirmation in a softer tone, “it’d be nice for my mom to see you again, She used to ask me about you all the time.” She presses her lips into a line, her face covered with embarrassment. 

“Lead the way,” You slightly smile at the thought that her mom still wondered where you had been all this time, She starts walking in the direction of her house. Making small talk to catch up on each others lives during the two years of absence, Your hands brushing together as you walk on the pavement.

“I missed you, you know that right?”

The smallness in her voice juxtaposes her usually large demeanour.

“I hoped you did,”

You chuckle slightly,

“I missed you too.”

“This is me,” she stops in front of the house you used to know, “You wanna stay for dinner? I mean you don't have to or anything.”

“Sure, It’ll be nice to say hi to your mom.” She leads you into her house, The recognisable scent of her moms cooking wafting into your nostrils. Filling your senses with memories of years prior. “Do we have to fake date in front of your mom aswell?” You tease her, Slipping off your shoes.

“Yeah, I guess so..” She replies nervously, just as her Mom wraps around the corner from the kitchen. “Hey, I brought home a special someone.” 

“Oh my gosh, YN! I didn't realise you were coming tonight for dinner.” She embraces you in a warm hug. “Feels like I haven't seen you in forever.” She lightly jabs at Megan with her elbow. 

“Just been busy with school work and college applications, you know how it is.” You lightly giggle at Megan’s mom’s actions. “Glad to see you Mrs. Skiendiel”

“Oh please, Yn. You know not to call me that, Just aunty is okay.” 

-

“Wow aunty, this is seriously delicious.” You moan as you wolf down the rice and pork on your plate. “I'm grateful that your cooking skills haven't deteriorated in the period I haven't seen you” You say in between bites.

“Im happy you like it, feel free to come over and eat when you want to, Honey” She chuckles

“Uhm Mom, We have something to talk about with you.” Megan’s words shift the energy at the table. You swallow your latest bite and glance at Megan, Giving her a reassuring look. 

“You guys are dating? I know, it's not that much of a shock.” Aunty takes the words out of Megan's mouth, “I've been patiently waiting when you two would realise your feelings for eachother. I have a standing bet with your mom, Yn.” She matter-a-factly comments,

“No funny business in my house alright?” 

“Yes aunty, I don't plan on doing anything with Megan till she's ready. Don't worry”

You try to clear the air quickly, Megan grabs your hand on the table. Interlocking her fingers with your ring clad ones, The slightly cold metal meeting her warm skin. The embarrassment of your words settling in with the two of you.

“I wouldn't dare hurt Megan, I hope you know that aunty.” You stupidly grin at her.

“I know, Yn. Just double checking, I know how you teenagers can be.” She lets out a deep sigh of relaxation. “I have some work to do. all I need you guys to do is the dishes, can you two handle that?” She squints her eyes at us, 

“Yeah, dont worry about it, Mom.” Megan stands and starts clearing the plates from the table, You follow her actions grabbing plates and silverware and bringing them to the sink in the kitchen. 

“I’ll be in the office working if you need me, Good night you two.” Megan’s Mom announces before the door closes.

“Oh my god i swear that was the most awkward i've been with your mom in forever.” You let out a deep sigh as you lean against the kitchen counter, Megan places down the rest of the dishes.

“Yeah no that was really awkward.” She giggles “Yes aunty i don't plan on doing anything with Megan till she's ready” She mockingly says in your tone of voice. You shove her shoulder lightly. 

“Come on lets finish the dishes, I rinse, you dry?” You stand over the sink, turn on the sink and scrub the dinner plates with a soapy sponge.

“Mhm, sounds like a solid plan” She hums, picking up the drying towel from the towel rack as you start to hand her some rinsed dishes. You cheekily smile to yourself as you get a devious idea. Megan is suddenly met with a warm splash of water from the sink head

“You did not just do that” She looks at you astonished, Mouth agape. “You little shit, Yn” 

“Such hurtful words require punishment” You giggle as you spray her with more water,

“What the fuck!” She squeals, feeling the water soak her shirt, “that's not fair, i don't have a sink to spray you too.” Suddenly it seems as Megan gets an idea for your payback.

“Come here, YN. Give me, your girlfriend, A hug. why don't you?” 

“No! I'm not gonna hug you, Meg. You gotta catch me first.” She roars with laughter as she chases after you in the kitchen. 

“Im gonna get you!” She loudly shouts, Running you into the corner of the kitchen.

“I’ve got you trapped now don't i?” She pants.

“I guess so, And what are you gonna do about it?”

You tease her, She pulls you into a wet hug “Eughhhh, it's so cold” You groan feeling her damp top spread the water on your shirt. She pulls away, Snickering at the sight of your now also damp shirt, 

“You get what's coming for you.”

“Can i atleast borrow a shirt or something?” You pull your shirt away from your chest to unstick it from your skin.

“Yeah, Come on. Let's go upstairs and dry off.” She grasps her hand with yours, Her nails graze your wrist. She drags you up the stairs into her room. You stare in awe, It looks similar to when you were last here but different at the same time.

“You took down the BTS posters?” You take a glance at her as she rummages through her closet for two shirts.

“Figured it was time to grow up i guess” She sighs and pulls out the shirts. 

“You sure it wasnt just your new friends pressuring you? Not that it really matters honestly, just curious.”

“Yes its fine, seriously, YN. I dont get whats your problem is right now, they were just posters.” She throws a purple oversized shirt at you.

“Just asking, No offence and all that” You exhale deeply, “Should i go to the bathroom and change or?” She just nods and you take that as your sign to leave the room.

You reenter the room and she's laying on her bed, Phone in hand. You knock on the door frame, she glances up then pats the side of the bed for you to sit down.

“Sorry by the way. Its not really my place to ask those types of questions.” You sit on the end of her bed.

“Its okay, I'm sorry too by the way. I overreacted a tad.” You observe as she hesitates to interlock hands, You take action as you interlock your pinkies together. 

"I guess i realized how much you've changed. And i guess i wasn't ready to fully realize it." You lay next to her, Brushing shoulders.

[a-fatal-word]

I saw the Theatre Du Châtelet production of Les Miserables, and here's a rundown wyth my thoughts:

In the Prologue, the first set of prisoners are on a boat, then a second group is brought in to help move it. I loved this direction, as we see the physical feats they are forced to do. Valjean is brought on separately to these groups. Guards also beat the men, conveying the aggression of this environment which impacts Valjean’s character.

Part of the set is a ramp up stage left, which gets used a lot. During the Runaway Cart scene, we actually see the cart go down the hill and fall on Fauchelevent and the actor really milks it, it's brilliant. The set has these two huge curved pieces, which are used to create multiple settings, plus box sets which helps separate different locations.

Claire Perot is a perfect Fantine, we understand her immediately. She is watched by all the men in the factory, which she's aware of but hasn't grown hardened as a protection. She's so vulnerable and clearly uncomfortable with the attention. I really enjoyed the 'J'avais Reve' ('I Dreamed a Dream') lyrics, and Perot's delivery of the line about Cosette being close to dying was PERFECTLY delivered. She stopped to take the moment, and it was the best I've ever seen it done. My favourite Fantine, maybe even including the film adaptations I've seen.

The pimp comes on with Bamatabois and has the lines with the sex worker that in the English version says 'only joking, deary knows her place'. When Javert arrests Fantine, the other sex workers start towards her but stop, clearly on her side but unable to stand up to Javert. This asserts the dynamic between these men, who always have more power in the situation, and the powerless women.

Champmathieu and two guards walk in from of Valjean during 'Le Proces' ('Who Am I'), so he sees whose life his decision will impact. It's a shame the actors look nothing alike, I feel like they could've given the actor portraying Champmathieu a beard 😂

I preferred the 'Une Poupee Dans la Vitrine' lyrics to 'Castle on a Cloud' lyrics, they're so much more specific to her experience as she dreams of playing with the doll Catherine. love that she sings about Catherine. I wish that the Catherine that Valjean gives her was bigger, though, it more resembles the size of a doll you would buy today instead of the large doll of the novel. Her broom is literally twice her size though, it's a perfect staying to reflect the famous artwork of Cosette sweeping.

The Sergeant of Waterloo Inn is a box set which covers half the width of the stage so you can see the snow outside behind this set piece, which really makes it seem that the inn is bursting with people. This really highlights how far the Thenardiers fall. We see Cosette and Valjean meet in the space away from the set, which is cold and isolated.

These Thenardiers feel genuinely dangerous; they're funny but there's less playing up to the audience. They dress similarly to the rest of the cast, but there's always something out of place. For example, in Maitre Thenardier (Master of the House), Thenardier's outfit is identical to an ensemble member's, but then his hair is unusually styled compared to the rest of the casts'. During the wedding, everyone wears black and white (white dresses and black suits), whilst the Thenardiers arrive in black and white striped outfits. It's like they try to fit in, but they're always off. I also enjoyed that the Patron Minette are in Maitre Thenardier, backing up Thenardier as he over charges someone (his wife has a go at him in a nice touch of ensemble work). It's like they're mates who then went into crime together. The 'Colette' line also remains.

During the confrontation, which happens whilst the nuns are present, Javert whacks out a giant gun which he points at the nuns, after that the nuns throw a bucket at him. When I say I DIED.

This Grantaire isn't the Grantaire we know, he's way too optimistic and put together. When he first started singing, I thought he might be Prouvaire or Courfeyrac and they'd given one of those characters those lines! It made me think that having Courfeyrac make fun of Marius would be so much fun, they'd get to have a bit more of a relationship there, and Courfeyrac could keep his snarkiness from the novel. But I still enjoyed his performance. This Grantaire still makes fun of Marius in jest, but he is as passionate as Enjolras and can easily jump into action mode. Their dynamic slightly resembles Achilles and Patroclus' in Madeline Miller's novel, in that Enjolras and Achilles are focused and charismatic, whereas this Grantaire, like Patroclus, jumps in to help the wounded. His protection of Gavroche is there, and Gavroche sings his final lines to Grantaire, before falling into his arms dead (Gavroche throws the bag of ammunition over before stumbling back to their side of the barricade with his hand clutching his stomach, resembling Eponine's demise).

The costumes for everyone are stunning. Fantine's deshevelled look is gorgeous and Javert has an incredible black leather coat. Enjolras wears a gorgeous slightly orange toned red coat, then a red striped waistcoat at the barricade, whilst Grantaire is in a green suit, with a top hat in the early Musain scenes.

In 'Bonjour Paris' ('Look Down - Paris') we see a group of middle class men walking to the front of the stage, surrounded by the poor they appear disgusted by, whom we are encouraged to judge.

Minor characters portrayed by the ensemble are given chances to shine, and this production really feels like it is presenting a society, as the novel does. A father and daughter appear in Paris, and this father then joins the revolution. He kisses his wife goodbye as she leaves the barricade, and it's heartbreaking when we see his corpse when they are defeated. We also see a member of the ensemble listen in to Javert's confession to Valjean when he has suspicions that he's an ex-convict. This moment especially evokes the small town attitude of Montreuil-sur-Mer in the novel.

Stanley Kassa's Enjolras is one of the best I've ever seen. He's commanding, serious, and clearly empathetic; having told Courfeyrac to keep watch whilst Valjean sings 'Comme un Homme' ('Bring Him Home'), he also keeps watch, and a couple of times looks back to watch over his sleeping comrades. You can really see that he has a lot going on internally, and is reflecting on the previous day and what is to come. Before sending the fathers and women home, he does this sigh to himself, and lets us in on the inner torment and regret that the people didn't join them. Kassa also dies leaning back off the barricade with his arms out, and he keeps them there until the barricade is removed, which is impressive given the time he has to keep this position for.

In 'Dans ma Vie' ('In my Life'), there are bars to the garden stage left, then bars projected on a screen in front of the set, so Cosette actually feels boxed in and isolated from the outside world in her garden.

Cosette telling Valjean about the 'four men scheming' (replacing 'three men I saw beyond the wall' makes more sense. She and Marius actually see the end of the Eponine, Thenardier and Patron Minette scene, so she tells Valjean as she has reason to worry.

They make the decision to have the barricade rise outside the Musain rather than the Corinthe, probably to simplify things. This also creates an emotional link, as they dream of creating a new world and it's next to that space that they try to achieve that new world.

This production's Prouvaire has a beautiful openness as a performer, he carries a little book on the barricade which feels very apt.

After the defeat, two national guardsmen, plus Javert, survey the barricade, which is covered in the dead, making them face up to what they have done. We also have the national guard giving the orders at the back of stage, visible through the barricade.

'Le Suicide de Javert' ('Javert's Suicide') is heart stopping; he is on top of one of the large set pieces and towards of the song is raised higher. His death is achieved by falling back 90 degrees and the screen in front shows a projection of him falling in slow motion into the Seine. This production takes place 5 minutes from the Seine, which really hits you in this moment.

'Seul Devant ces Tables Vides' ('Empty Chairs at Empty Tables') is done with projections of shadows on the Musain set, which is a wooden piece stage right. Of course we see Grantaire drinking, recognisable as the shadow with the top hat.

'Tourne Tourne' ('Turning') is performed as the moment the families have to identify the dead, such a unique staging choice.

When things get awkward at the wedding, the master of ceremonies asks the 'Maestra' to play a specific song. When things get awkward again when the Thenardiers are eating all the food, Thenardier tries the same thing and asks the 'Maestro' for a song (there was a joke were he said something that wasn't a song, but I can't remember what). The Musical Director is then revealed upstage when she corrects him that's she's a 'Maestra', which got a big clap.

Eponine doesn't duet with Fantine in the Finale until later than usual, so we get a beautiful scene between Fantine and Valjean where she puts his hand on the book before he gives it to Cosette.

Once Valjean dies, he gets to greet everyone in death, included Myriel, who he hugs, and Javert, who he shakes hands with. And Enjolras, who feels very central to this production. He's used a lot in the trailer and Stanley Kassa has the most amazing charisma, you really root for him.

Overall, I loved this production. A lot of the lyrics are tell the novel's story more explicitly and are still poetic at times. I especially loved Fantine's lyrics, and it's so refreshing to see a different take on the material visually. I really hope this production gets a longer life, and I'm so glad we have an album with this cast. They all have golden voices, especially Oceane Demontis as Eponine. I also have to shout out Juliette Artigala for her portrayal of Cosette, I thought she was so endearing.

[ace-of-d1am0nds]

The Birds

Was there ever really innocence?

thank you my lovely friend @kastledevils for the gifs<3

Paul is a representation of Louis’ innocence and his obliviousness to Lestat’s (and his own eventual) vampirism. Paul and his birds become a sort of plot device for which Louis can see his own responsibility and how it is clouding his judgment. Paul’s schizophrenia not only leads him to believe he has birds telling him things but it also leads him to the church a place in which Louis denies until after Paul’s death. The death of the birds is a loss of innocence regarding his “devious” and damned tendencies, of which Lestat will immediately strip him of that innocence further by turning him into a vampire.

Lestat says to Claudia after berating her for attempting to turn a number of boys, claiming the reason it didn’t work is because she is too fragile to be successful. The foreshadowing to season 2 is incredibly strong in this scene. I’ll get to that, though. Lestat pointing out Claudia’s physical and emotional immaturity in this scene as a whole is highlighted by the bird metaphor. He is calling her a small, breakable thing and she effectually proves his point. She goes on a killing spree, keeping souvenirs, and eventually running away. Only then does she lose that innocence portrayed by the birds.

Louis baiting birds to their window when he first arrives to Paris is an interesting choice if we choose to follow this metaphor. In his mind, he has already lost his innocence in the act of killing Lestat. This is reflected in his killing and draining of the birds that come to his balcony railing. What is not taken into account in his perspective of his own innocence is the fact that he is feeding the birds. He is bringing life to those he does not kill. He is trying to rebuild an innocence he had lost long ago through finding himself in Paris. He wants his autonomy back, he wants to know who he is outside of Lestat and Claudia, something that Claudia herself encourages. When Armand comes into the picture, this changes and he stops feasting on the birds, at least not in front of Claudia.

In the corner of the painting of Arun/Amadeo/Armand, there are birds in the corner of the image. Armand is describing his tragic and traumatic upbringing and we barely get a glimpse of them flying in the corner. Armand never had an innocence to him. From such a young age he was a servant and a slave, yet there is a sort of innocence to how he describes this time in his life. He says “I served him with all my heart.” This way of thinking is what gets him into the situations we see him in. His childhood is less innocence than it is a naivety. His retrospective look on his childhood and adolescence is with rose tinted glasses as he describes Amadeo’s experience with Marius as a twisted sort of love (I do not condone the actions of Marius de Romanus, I’m only saying Armand believes he was in love with him).

Ok, this is the lynchpin in my whole argument. Baby Lou. Delainey Hayes’ Claudia is all about reclaiming her adulthood now that she isn’t tied to her maker. And yet… The role she is placed in by the Paris coven is that of the young little bird. She tries to learn to escape and fly away again and again but she fails and falls to her death with a crack in the concrete. Her ghost floats above her, the freedom she never got. Over and over again she fights the role until eventually, she runs away with her lover, Madeleine. Claudia, however, was always doomed by the narrative and is roped back to Paris and well, we know how that ends…

[dramatic-dolphin]

Re. Your women being so scared thing. And to be clear I mostly agree with you.

I'm not sure where you're from, but I'm from New York, and I can say for sure that I'd feel more safe in the most dangerous part of the UK than basically anywhere in the US. My Parisian aunt thinks Gare du Nord too dangerous to walk near under any circumstances, but to me it seems like a normal bigger train station level of danger, and the streets around it seem normal. I lived in a university town in the UK for a year, and I never felt in danger there or in London, even alone, even in the middle of the night. I was never alone in Berlin, but I was out at night, and I felt at least as comfortable as I would in New York. So I think, at last in the places I've been and from my experience, America is more dangerous and much scarier. I have never been street harassed in the UK, and I have been harassed and followed in New York plenty, and had several people attempt to attack me. Men in the US will also often harass you from a car, which is an explicit threat. It's also important to remember that parking lots are bad places to be and most of the US has to drive, and therefore park.

That said, I know some women who won't ride the subway at night, or at all, and that seems very paranoid to me. If you're riding at a remotely normal time and are paying any attention to your surroundings, you're almost certainly going to be fine. I also know girls who, even once they're in a car, of course, will send friends their location just in case. This seems extremely paranoid to me. Maybe check you're going the right way like one time. I do still think some of the things people do can be reasonable caution - yeah, didn't go hiking on a first date - but the perspective people are throwing at you strikes me as distinctly privileged. No one who's ever had a job can think that way. I've worked with a few women who took cars home after every shift, or their dad or their boyfriend picked them up in a car, and at that point, you have a job as a hobby, because unless he works nearby, you just spent your minimum wage on gas. If you take a cab home in New York, from Manhattan to any other borough, that's most of your pay. So to me, this level of paranoia generally reads that you've never had to be alone anywhere so you don't understand what it means, and you've never had to do shit with, and if you did do it, the money wasn't important.

Yeah a lot of time I get mad at this online because it just seems overly paranoid to me, and then a woman comes in with a personal experience or anecdotes, and it hits me that maybe the US *is* actually that bad? I live in Hungary, and I really like walking alone in the city at night, or going for long walks in the forest alone, and I've never really felt unsafe doing that, but - and this is crucial - neither have most of the women I talk to. Or at least, not to this degree. So, yeah, the US is possibly worse and more unsafe? I can believe that, it's just hard to conceptualize I guess, since the US likes to portray itself as tbe baseline for a "civilized" country, and I live in *Eastern Europe*. So there's preconceptions here, lol.

But yes, a lot of these, even when corrected for this, are just paranoid, there's no other way to see it. Like, no matter where you live, you truly do NOT need to share your location every time you leave home. And there's also the matter of being disconnected from the people and community around you, like being scared to help your neighbor or someone on your street. We live in a society, you kind of have to take an active part of it.

A lot of it is just a lot of energy spent on being scared every waking moment of your life. Like, okay, in the reddit thread I saw this in, there was a woman saying that she ALWAYS puts her ID in her front pocket when she goes outside so they can easily IDENTIFY THE BODY IF SHE DIES. Like what material good does worrying about this bring to your life? It's not even a self-defense technique, doing this will not help you with staying alive!! All it does is make you think about "oh no, I could get murdered" every time you leave the house. This is NOT a healthy mindset!

It's like a strange and widespread kind of anxiety, and the worst part is, it has you convinced it's necessary, and you can't get rid of it unless you make an active effort to do things despite being scared. First you have to convince yourself that you *won't* get murdered by your date if you don't share your location, and that's the hardest part. And yeah lol, having to do things alone helps you with this tremendously, because you realize that you've just taken the subway at night alone and survived. But if you're never forced to do things alone, you get stuck in this weird fear spiral, and whenever you see a stranger, you end up thinking about how they could murder you.

[chilling-seavey]

I feel like something that goes for TWIG is you and George dating and have not told anyone besides your families and someone from the grid unexpectedly comes over, like Alex or Charles, and they see feminine products around the apartment. Like your shoes, handbag, and/or maybe your bra (for some spice) and gets really curious.

(Anon, the way you concept here relates to the way I portrayed their early days relationship in the Winter Warmers blurb I wrote last night is a little scary...are we the same person?? But I love this SO MUCH (I actually wrote this as soon as it came in while actively in the office) thank you for submitting!)

Basically, yes, the overarching concept of wanting to be 100% private with the relationship to keep it out of the limelight and unwelcome social pressures of the Formula 1 world is so TWIG. George is a little nervous to have your relationship be so publicized and scrutinized because he doesn't want that to come between you...he's seen his friends' relationships crumble because of that and it terrifies him, honestly. But it feels normal without anyone knowing except yourselves and your close families...like he's a normal person in a normal relationship.

You'd come to some races that first year but with a regular paddock pass/'sponsored' by Mercedes, coming in on your own and away from him so as to not be associated together by the press, feeling like a whole secret spy and honestly it's kind of thrilling. Even most if not all of the team doesn't know: hardly even seeing you and George in the same room in Mercedes hospitality...you're never in the garage...you're honestly impressively good at flying under the radar.

Yeah, out of everyone it drives George a little crazy that he hasn't told Alex yet but he selfishly just wants to stay in this safe bubble of normal for a little longer. Even if that means virtually lying to his best friend.

You and George didn't live in the same city so for the first while of your relationship you were bouncing back and forth between each other's apartments (and halfway around the world on some race weekends...). It was not long at all really before there was a steady stock of your things at George's just to make traveling easier for you; face wash and shampoo and conditioner and some standard makeup and maybe an outfit or two. Honestly it came to a point where your things just felt so natural to him that they just blend into the background of his apartment like they were just meant to be there.

So when Alex showed up one random weekday, George almost didn't bat an eye. Almost. Until Alex was kicking off his shoes in the foyer and eyeing the second pair of sneakers by the door.

"Your feet shrink or something, George?"

The fib was out of George's mouth before he could think, "They're my sister's. She left them here."

With Alex pacified, George kept him in the living room, busying him with snacks and conversation like he wasn't silently freaking out that his lie would come out.

When Alex excused himself to the bathroom, George panic texted you from the couch. His knee bounced annoyingly with him stuck staring at your laughing emojis you replied with to his lengthy nervous ramble. Not helpful.

"Since when do you stock up on feminine hygiene products?" Alex asked the moment he emerged from the bathroom, rubbing his hands together like he was still washing them.

"I, uh...carry them in case anyone that needs them comes over. Like Lily." George stumbled out a mention of Alex's long-term girlfriend who, in reality, did come over sometimes. He then immediately deflected with a quick, "Since when do you go snooping under my sink?"

"I needed hand lotion and I know you have the good, expensive stuff that smells like a forest." Alex flexed his fingers out as he flopped back down on the couch, his skin shimmering just a bit in the sunlight through the living room window. But Alex was a little too trusting of his best friend and so he didn't feel too bothered by George's response. He was a nice enough guy, maybe he did keep stock for Lily or his sister or someone.

Third time was the charm when they had decided to watch a movie and George got up to make some popcorn. Alex got himself comfortable on the couch, rearranging the cushions and finding that sweet spot in the upholstery. But the sudden laugh that came from the living room had George stopping in the kitchen.

"George!" Alex called in that pitchy voice he got when he was far too excited and teasing him.

George appeared in the doorway to the living room to find Alex waving one of your bras around in the air. The look on his face must have been priceless because Alex nearly cackled, "You keeping a bra around for Lily when she stays over too or is this also your sister's?"

George took three quick strides over and snatched it from him, "It's not my fucking sister's."

"If you have a girlfriend, you can just tell me." Alex said, slightly calmer now but still housing that shit-eating grin on his face. "I don't know why you'd not tell me."

George sighed, feeling a little ridiculous standing there with your bra in his hand in front of his best friend who was set on getting the truth out of him. He shrugged, relenting, "We just...wanted to keep it out of the spotlight for a bit."

"I'm not the spotlight." Alex reminded him.

"Yeah, but you have a big mouth, Alex." George laughed lightly, teasingly, before fading out with a shake of his head, trying to explain, "It was nice just feeling normal. I know once the whole grid knows or the team it'll, like, start to blend...these two halves of my life...and I know how that can end up."

"You can't be scared of that, George." Alex said gently, "Not everyone crashes and burns. Lily and I are fine."

"Lily also is in a public career of her own so she knows how it goes." George replied softly, tentatively.

"This girl of yours isn't?"

George shook his head.

"Not a model? Social media? Athlete?"

George shook his head after each one.

Alex's eyebrows raised, "Don't tell me she's normal."

"Remember the girl who checked you into that hotel back in May?"

"That really narrows it down, George, thank you."

George huffed, "The one you were on me for staring at for far too long."

"Her? Oh my God, you actually got her to agree to go out with you?! But you're so boring!"

"Alex—"

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[hollowed-theory-hall]

Lily Potter is not Mediocre

I wrote this initially as a response to a reblog on this post, but I wanted to give Lily a post of her own that isn't tied in with my rambling about shipping Voldemort. So here it is:

We don't know a lot about Lily, but what we do know implies she is very magically talented and has a bit of a cruel streak to her. She isn't as perfect as some portray her, nor as awful as I've seen some claim her to be. but oh boy do I disagree about her being mediocre.

Let's talk about the magical power first, becouse I feel a lot of people underestimate Lily's magical talent.

“Excellent, excellent, Harry! Good lord, it’s clear you’ve inherited your mother’s talent. She was a dab hand at Potions, Lily was! Here you are, then, here you are — one bottle of Felix Felicis, as promised, and use it well!”

(HBP)

I know some people like to claim Lily was only good at potions because of Snape, but I don't think that's the case. I'm sure he helped her out at first, but they stopped being friends at 5th year and she continued to seemingly have good grades at Potions since Slughorn really loves her.

As a child, Lily has incredible control over her accidental magic and accomplishes difficult magic naturally and intuitively:

But the girl had let go of the swing at the very height of its arc and flown into the air, quite literally flown, launched herself skyward with a great shout of laughter, and instead of crumpling on the playground asphalt, she soared like a trapeze artist through the air, staying up far too long, landing far too lightly.

(DH)

Lily had picked up a fallen flower from the bush behind which Snape lurked. Petunia advanced, evidently torn between curiosity and disapproval. Lily waited until Petunia was near enough to have a clear view, then held out her palm. The flower sat there, opening and closing its petals, like some bizarre, many-lipped oyster.

(DH)

This is way more advanced than magic usually shown by kids, especially because of how controlled it is. The only other character we see on level with Lily's control at such a young age (and who mastered unaided flight on their own) is Voldemort.

Harry also shows insanely powerful accidental magic (including Apparation) and let's just say, I don't think Harry's magical talent came from James.

Lily was both Prefect and head girl (like Tom) again showing she had a great academic track record and was likely a top student in many of her classes. We know she was good at Potions, but she was likely very adapt at Charms as well:

You have your mother’s eyes. It seems only yesterday she was in here herself, buying her first wand. Ten and a quarter inches long, swishy, made of willow. Nice wand for charm work

(PS)

Now, I talked in the past on here about how Harry is insanely magically powerful, specifically when it came to intuitive magic that just reacted to his emotions/desires or him being able to feel magic (this is that post). If we take Dumbledore at his word on how Lily cast her sacrificial love on Harry (which I tend to do) her sacrificial magic was insanely intuitive magic like we see Harry repeatedly do throughout the books.

I think the reason no one else ever did is because of the specific circumstances and Lily's specific words, yes, but I also think, that like her son, she had a knack for her magic responding intuitively to her desires no spell needed. This is a mark of a very powerful wizard/witch and not something a mediocre wizard would be likely to accomplish.

We see Harry cast this same sacrificial love in DH. And he, too, doesn't really cast anything, it's intuitive, his magic is powerful and incredibly reactive to his emotions — and I believe Lily was the same.

JKR has mentioned Voldemort tried to convince James and Lily to become Death Eaters, more than once ("Thrice defied him"). He wouldn't have given them more than one chance if either of them was mediocre. I also don't think he would've tried to get Lily to step aside so he wouldn't have to kill her as many times as he did if he thought she was average at best.

As for her personality, you're right, she isn't exactly Harry, but they do share some very important traits, and as I said, I think she and Tom would clash less than Harry and Tom (as in Lily doesn't get angry the way Harry does, so their reactions would be different).

Lily acted charming and prideful:

She turned, nose in the air, and marched off towards her sister.

(DH)

“Hmpf. Yes, well. You shouldn’t have favorites as a teacher, of course, but she was one of mine. Your mother,” Slughorn added, in answer to Harry’s questioning look. “Lily Evans. One of the brightest I ever taught. Vivacious, you know. Charming girl.I used to tell her she ought to have been in my House. Very cheeky answers I used to get back too.”

(HBP)

Slughorn talks about Lily's personality more than any other character, and what he says does paint her as similar to Harry.

She was talented and bright. Slughorn, who thought Tom Riddle, considers Lily Potter one of the brightest students he ever thought. She was in no way mediocre.

She was charming and had a firey personality to her. She was enthusiastic and charismatic and was easily likable.

I especially like what Slughorn says about Lily being good for Slytherin. Like Harry, she was likely considered by the hat for both Slytherin and Gryffindor due to her cleverness and bravery being both part of her.

And these cheeky answers Slghorn refers to, are like Harry's. Harry is the cheeky student Slughorn is referring to in the same breath as Lily's. Harry got his sass from Lily, not from James. Harry's tendency to back-talk Dark Lords came from his mom.

She's more scared when she's younger, crying more, but she clearly grows up to be fiercer, as Slughorn mentions and as we see in some of the memories:

“Saved? Saved? You think he was playing the hero? He was saving his neck and his friends’ too! You’re not going to — I won’t let you — ” “Letme? Letme?” Lily’s bright green eyes were slits. Snape backtracked at once.

(DH)

As for the cruel streak I mentioned:

Lily, whose furious expression had twitched for an instant as though she was going to smile, said, “Let him down!”

(OotP)

Lily, even as Snape's best friend, can't help but find the bullying funny for just a moment. It means her sense of humor can be on the crueler side at times. The fact that it's implied, even during SWM that Lily didn't really hate James, just disliked his behavior is quite telling. Like, I don't think he needed to change much for her to go out with him. Sirius even says he mostly just stopped hexing people in the halls. I think he wasn't as arrogant, but he was probably still very egocentric. And Lily liked that (contrary to Harry who'd find it more annoying).

Additionally, when Lily wants to, she knows to hit where it hurts (the Slytherin streak Slughorn talks about?):

“That’s where you’re going,” said Petunia with relish. “A special school for freaks. You and that Snape boy ... weirdos, that’s what you two are. It’s good you’re being separated from normal people. It’s for our safety.” Lily glanced toward her parents, who were looking around the platform with an air of wholehearted enjoyment, drinking in the scene. Then she looked back at her sister, and her voice was low and fierce.“You didn’t think it was such a freak’s school when you wrote to the headmaster and begged him to take you.” Petunia turned scarlet.

(DH)

She knows Petunia and she knows what would hurt/embarrass her the most and she goes for the throat. Even if later she tries to smooth things over with her.

I also wanted to note her wand. Ollivanders said she had a Willow wand, and willow wands have some interesting facts about them:

Willow is an uncommon wand wood with healing power, and I have noted that the ideal owner for a willow wand often has some (usually unwarranted) insecurity, however well they may try and hide it. While many confident customers insist on trying a willow wand (attracted by their handsome appearance and well-founded reputation for enabling advanced, non-verbal magic) my willow wands have consistently selected those of greatest potential, rather than those who feel they have little to learn. It has always been a proverb in my family that he who has furthest to travel will go fastest with willow.

(From Pottermore)

(Ron has a Willow wand too, btw, like the second wand he gets that is really his)

This implies Lily was insecure, and you kinda see it in her behavior as a child. Her deference to Petunia and how many questions she asks Snape:

“Normally,” said Snape. “But you’re Muggle-born, so someone from the school will have to come and explain to your parents.” “Does it make a difference, being Muggle-born?”

(DH)

She is scared, walking up to the sorting hat:

He watched his mother walk forward on trembling legs and sit down upon the rickety stool. Professor McGonagall dropped the Sorting Hat onto her head, and barely a second after it had touched the dark red hair, the hat cried, “ Gryffindor”

(DH)

But the hat placed her in Gryffindor becouse of the bravery was there. The insecurity isn't warranted (according to the wand's description). She had the fire and fierceness there all along. she may thought herself average but it was never true.

The description of the wand also suggests Lily would've been quite good with advanced non-verbal magic, which fits everything I mentioned about her magic being very intuitive like Harry's in the first section here.

So Lily is in no way mediocre and Harry is his mother's son.

[dsvoid]

remember when i said i was beginning to relate more and more to michael? well,

i think it’s easy to underestimate his character and not really understand who he is, but once you start acting like him, it gives you a new perspective in the whole of solitaire. michael is a very angry individual, i think we all know that. however, he is not portrayed like how angry characters usually are. his anger stays inside, like a lion waiting to attack. michael lives hiding a part of himself, somewhere so deep in his mind that whenever it is able to come out it becomes his worst nightmare ever. unlike most angry characters, the anger doesn’t affect the rest, it affects him.

i think this is so important to talk about, because yes, solitaire is tori’s book, but michael brings very important details to the story. i know most of the fandom likes to talk about him as a silly little guy, and that’s valid, because he also is that. my mind just won’t be at peace until we all realize a bit more how important he is.

anger will bring him down. that’s not something we can argue about, it’s the truth. and yes, it sounds silly, anger, really? that’s the thing that’s gonna bring him down? well, not exactly. anger is the first symptom of losing yourself. you start keeping all the anger to yourself, not really knowing what to do with it or why it’s becoming bigger and bigger. as this continues, you start hating, loathing every single moment of your life that doesn’t go as planned. before you even know it, you’re isolating yourself, afraid of any chance of the anger getting stronger.

if i were to show this with a scene of the book i would choose the one were michael finally explodes at tori. because at that moment, he has been trying so hard to be her friend, and attempt after attempt, she’s just been making things difficult. i say this from an objective perspective, because we know tori wasn’t in the right headspace, but that doesn’t mean michael’s wasn’t bad mentally as well. it’s what i said before, you start loathing everything that doesn’t go your way. and in this case, his friendship with tori wasn’t going his way. it’s a very hard topic to explain because i have been in both ends, mostly in michael’s, and it is extremely difficult to deal with. we know michael doesn’t have friends and probably didn’t have before either, which means he has been carrying this issue his whole life. it’s obvious he was going to explode. he keeps trying and trying and nothing goes his way. he can’t make friends to save his life, oh and look, he also failed the competition of what he is supposed to be great at, perfect!

i guess i just wanted to talk about this because as i said, feeling like this is not great. it sucks. it’s horrible to experience but so normalized as well. people like tori get talked about behind their backs. everyone has a bit of bitterness in their voice when they talk about them, spitting how being mentally ill doesn’t excuse you for being a bad person. people like michael get pitied. the people who keep a smile and don’t stop trying even when they’re dying inside. everyone feels bad for them, but no one cares enough to make a difference.

[glitter-stained]

Jason Todd Meta: My opinion on the csa headcanon

Does Jason's behaviour suggest he was a victim of csa?

There is very little, in terms of clinical signs, that’s going to point to csa specifically, because most symptoms, for psychiatric disorders, aren’t specific to one disorder or cause. One thing that’s usually a good hint would be children making very sexual statements/references/jokes/behaviours that are very inappropriate in context (a good example of this would be Roman Roy from Succession); night terrors are bed wettings amongst children/teenagers over a certain age. But that is absolutely not necessary: many, if not most victims of csa don’t display these specific signs, and a twelve years old that suffers from night terrors is not necessarily a victim of csa. The one thing that tells you for sure, in a person with trauma, that they have been a victim of csa, is that they’re telling you they have been a victim of csa. I’m insisting on that part because there’s a whole bunch of therapists (cough cough psychanalysts) that will tell you confidently that your psychiatric symptoms stem from a childhood sexual trauma (cherry on top of the shit cake if it’s incestuous) that you didn’t know about because you’ve repressed it. I repeat, that’s bullshit. If you meet a clinician who tells you that, RUN. So, a warning: this is probably the least “psychological analysis” of my “Jason psychological analysis posts”, because Jason’s symptoms do not allow us to conclude formally for or against a history of sexual abuse. But that doesn’t mean we can’t do some meta, make sure we're on the same page with what's analyzed here, some textual analysis, discuss what the csa headcanon does and does not imply in terms of his behaviour. I think it’s a good idea to start with it so we know where we’re standing with our analysis, regardless of the fact it’s maybe not the most interesting in terms of psychopathology and neuropsychology.

A couple of disclaimers:

I only talk about the comics I want to talk about. This is for two reasons, which are that 1) I do what I want and if I don’t like/don’t find something interesting, I’m not gonna waste time on it; and 2) I’ve been reading comics for a couple of months only, and there are, like, a lot of them. If there are comics you wanna see analysed under that lense, feel free to suggest them! I might not want to, but it also could be that I haven’t read them yet. Additionally, I'm not interested in questioning the morality of Jason's actions here. Ethics are fun, and I like talking about them sometimes, and morality sometimes has a place in talks about demonization but largely speaking this isn't the space for that. I separate talk about morality and psychology stuff as much as I can for a reason, so if you are looking here for excuses for his behaviour or arguments as to why he is a bad person, you're in the wrong place. Moral judgement is irrelevant here for the most part.

On the events of Red Hood: Lost Days:

Jason has, at some point in the comics, been a victim of csa. When Talia kisses Jason before pushing him off a cliff right after he got out of the Lazarus Pit, and when she initiates sex with him in Lost Days, that’s not consent!! That’s a grown woman taking advantage of a traumatized teenager who is, on top of that, deeply indebted to her. That’s a predatory act, with a steep power imbalance, it’s sexual assault, and on top of that there’s an element of suggested pseudo-incest. That decision was retconned, and thank god, because it was a brutal assassination of Talia’s character based on a good bit of racism, and also because the way it was portrayed doesn’t make it clear that Jason is a victim in a situation rather than that super annoying trope of “teenage guy gets to bang a hot MILF and hahaha lucky him”, writing a male character in a situation of SA without acknowledging it as SA or taking it seriously is one of the tropes I hate most, it reinforces stigmatisation and isolates victims. For all of these reasons, I’m not gonna include that element in my analysis, but it’s important to note that if you do include those scenes in your conception of it, then Jason is undeniably a victim of csa and everything discussed about it applies to him.

What if it were a lie?

I’ve said it before (and I’ll say it again), I deeply, violently hate headcanons/tropes where a character lies about being a victim of csa (whether it’s for manipulation, personal gain, any reason really I don’t care). It’s rare as fuck in real life, however it’s a common trope that feeds into fear of being wrongfully accused that causes push-back and increases social stigmatization. CSA is a painful thing associated with intense feelings of shame and already a deep fear of not being believed. Imagine making a considerable effort to seek help after something terrible happened/is happening to you, and you have to brave your fear of not being believed on top of that, and once you’ve made all that effort you get rejected and villainized because it’s just easier for the person you’re reaching out to not to believe it. So I’m awfully weary of this type of headcanon, and I think a general rule of thumb is “if your interpretation of what the character is saying is that he’s talking about how he was abused, especially if he’s talking about sexual assault, then it happened.” If you don’t like that, if you don’t feel like that’s good representation, then you can question the story, think it should be retconned, or rethink your interpretation of what the character says if it’s ambiguous, but hcing that the character lied about his assault is not a hypothesis we’re going to accept here no matter what. So we can start by scratching that one out: Jason never lies about being a victim of csa, or wilfully hints at it even though that’s untrue, at any point.

Two other ideas I’ve seen floating around that I think are worth mentioning:

No, just because Jason lived in the streets as a kid doesn’t mean the only way he survived was through underage prostitution. I genuinely don’t understand that idea, yes being a street kid makes you extremely vulnerable, yes it makes the risk of resolving to underage prostitution to survive higher but it’s absolutely not a fatality. That idea is, quite frankly, weird. Do you automatically assume if a real life person tells you they were in the streets for some time at a kid that they are a victim of csa? Also, I've seen the idea go around that because some people have a strong reading/hc of Jason as bi (which I have no problem with I love bi Jason), that would be an argument in favour of the csa hc. Please don’t do that. There’s no link between queer sexual orientations and childhood sexual abuse, that’s a harmful myth that we should work to deconstruct or, at the very least, not continue to vehiculate.

Another important thing to keep in mind: childhood sexual abuse =/= childhood sexual trauma.

Now, a traumagenic situation is a situation that might induce trauma (so development of, acute stress disorder, ptsd, cptsd, derealization, any traumatic pathology really). These situations exist on a continuum of probability to be traumatized by this situation. For example, a flood, a car accident, witnessing a murder and being sexually assaulted are all traumagenic situations, but the probability of developing trauma from them are very different. It hinges on personal, situational, social, and environmental risk factors (that have nothing to do with being weak, anybody can develop trauma). A definition for traumagenic situations can be found in the diagnostic criteria for ptsd in the dsm-5:

A. “Exposure to actual or threatened death, serious injury, or sexual violence in one (or more) of the following ways:

1. Directly experiencing the traumatic event(s).

2. Witnessing, in person, the event(s) as it occurred to others.

3. Learning that the traumatic event(s) occurred to a close family member or close friend. In cases of actual or threatened death of a family member or friend, the event(s) must have been violent or accidental.

4. Experiencing repeated or extreme exposure to aversive details of the traumatic event(s) (e.g., first responders collecting human remains; police officers repeatedly exposed to details of child abuse). Note: Criterion A4 does not apply to exposure through electronic media, television, movies, or pictures, unless this exposure is work related.”

Note that the this last criteria has been added from the DSM-5 in order to explain cases of PTSD observed in at-risk jobs like cops exposed to repeated detailed child abuse, first responders collecting human remains, or, crucially, vigilantes repeatedly exposed to brutal crimes. This means that Jason, when he works on the Dumpster Slasher case, when he is horrified to find Gloria in the immediate aftermath of her rape (and later finds her dead body, because witnessing the consequences of these traumatic events is also an important component of that second-hand trauma), is being exposed to a very traumagenic situation. As I said before, that doesn’t necessarily mean you will experience trauma (thank fuck for that), but there are factors that influence that. SA related situations has an already pretty high probability of inducing trauma. On top of that, age is a big factor in that: the younger you are, the less resources, emotional regulation, development and coping mechanisms to face the traumagenic event you have (though there is such a thing as “too young to have PTSD" -when your memory is simply not developed enough for the memory to traumatize you because you will not remember the event.) At fifteen, with his memory fully developed but his brain going through so much changes because of teenagehood and his past history, Jason would be at risk. On top of that, you’re more at risk to get traumatized if you’re already stressed out when the event happens, so Jason’s mental state at this point in his robin run is also a risk factor. All to say, it’s very plausible for Jason to have sexual trauma without being a victim of sexual abuse in relation to canon events. Besides, in headcanon territory when it comes to Jason’s childhood before Robin, there are so many ways to be exposed to sexual violence : witnessing/finding his mother being a victim (considering the position of extreme vulnerability Catherine was in), witnessing assault in the streets, being the victim of attempted SA and escaping, watching street kids get picked up and later find their bodies/being told by other kids, as a cautionary tale, in excruciating detail, testimonies of their own assault… Or for example, if we’re thinking about Arkham Knight, being constantly threatened with SA, it being hinted and joked about and hanging over him like a sword of Damocles is something I could see Joker and other inmates do that could definitely induce sexual trauma even if it doesn’t happen ; what matters most, in trauma, is that the fear is real. Mechanically, when we’re looking at the way trauma works even on a biological level, the overwhelming fear is at the core of the pathology. (This is also why you can develop PTSD after a psychotic episode.) Like, my point isn’t that one of these things happened to Jason, or that he has to have sexual trauma from the events of the Diplomat’s Son or anything -mostly just that this is a possibility, something very serious that happens and an important nuance that I never see in discussions on the csa headcanon, and while it’s not exactly what the debate is about, I think it’s something important to ponder.

Do you consider the csa hc to be canon?

So, there are a lot of Jason stories, and I’m very pro “not take in account what is said in comics you dislike in your conception of canon” because if I did that absolutely no bat character would be readable, I have to believe that no character is defined by their worst writers. And boy, does Jason have a lot of bad writing… On top of the personal retcons, there are also the canon retcons: like Battle for The Cowl is retconned… Unless someone decides to reinject/revamp it into the narrative (please don’t please don’t it’s irrecuperable let it lay with the Flying Todds where it belongs). So, let’s see. There are three writers/arcs that imply/mention the csa hc: Starlin’s writing of Jason’s post-crisis Robin Run (canon though some stuff in it seems to have been retconned), Winick’s writing in Green Arrow: Seeing Red (canon as far as I know), and Battle for the Cowl (retconned). It’s worth noting that one of those are considered to be foundational works for Jason’s character (Jason’s post crisis Robin Run and Starlin’s part in it), and another was written by Winick, who wrote the other two foundational Jason stories: Under The Red Hood and Red Hood: Lost Days. On a personal level, I’m very mitigated about what I like and accept about it. I base my whole love and characterization of Jason about his post-crisis Robin Run, I love that little guy so much, Starlin’s take on Jason’s Robin Run is absolutely canon to me (which does not mean I like Starlin as a writer, thank you very much). On the other hand of the spectrum, the only reason Battle for the Cowl isn’t my least favourite comic ever is because The Killing Joke exists, absolutely not canon, get this thing away from me. And then in the middle, my feelings on Seeing Red (on the entirety of Winick’s Jason really) vary depending on the day, because I do like a revenge story that challenges the status quo with tropes of “bad victim” and it sets up Jason as a character based on love rather than morals which I adore, but there are also some elements of psychophobia in the writing that I (who approach stories through the filter of psychopathology first and foremost) can’t just look past, and also the way it intertwines with classist stereotypes. So do I consider Seeing Red to be canon? In good faith, yes, but whether I’ll accept it as such really depends on the day. In terms of the csa headcanon: it’s heavily hinted in BTFC but not outright said, it’s there as a undercurrent in Starlin’s run because of his intention (to make Jason die of AIDS). And then we have Seeing Red. Basically Jason lists elements about Mia’s life, including her past with underage prostitution (so, just to be very clear, csa), and says they’re very similar, having both lived on the streets, and understand having to do bad things when it’s necessary. This is not the same as saying “I was a victim of csa”, and what he’s saying could be interpreted differently (we know that he was stealing tires, and “only what he needs to survive”, so he could have been referencing small-time theft.) So, it could be a reference to something else, I totally understand why some people want to interpret differently. It just… Feels like such a weird and weak argument to be equating boosting tires to underage prostitution, to me it’s very ooc (in comparison to UTH Jason), and it would feel like weak writing from someone like Winick. Aka it’s not technically canon, and you don’t have to accept it as such(I understand the mentality of "I'm rejecting this interpretation because it feels like demonization of csa victims" perfectly), but personally I think it takes a lot from Jason’s character in Seeing Red and from this story in general.

[saythenametotheworld]

Foolish One | h.rj

A chance encounter with Renjun at the campus library turns into late-night study sessions and stolen moments. He's everything you're looking for—thoughtful, kind, intelligent. But is this the start of something real, or just a story you’re telling yourself?

ONE | two | three | four | five

Genre: crush-at-first-sight, college AU Pairing: Huang Renjun x afab!Reader Warnings: mature themes, language, the plot is dragged out a bit lol Notes: 17k words. Part 1 of the Campus Confessions series, but it can be read as a standalone fic. Listening to Foolish One by Taylor Swift. Genuinely, let me know what you guys think of this. I am very open-minded to constructive criticism. 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: 1 2 3 by NCT DREAM, Risk by Gracie Abrams, Jump Then Fall by Taylor Swift, Foolish One by Taylor Swift

The campus library was quieter than you expected for a Tuesday afternoon during exam week, the kind of silence that made your every move feel amplified and noticeable. You were feeling self-conscious, wondering if everyone was noticing you standing awkwardly at the front desk while the librarian refused to check out the book you wanted to borrow. But the embarrassment didn’t bother you as much as the growing panic in your chest. You really needed this book right now so you could do a last minute study before your exam in thirty minutes.

Clutching a notebook against your chest, you gave the librarian a pleading look. “Please? Just this once?”

“I’m sorry, but I really can’t do that without your student ID,” the librarian said, her tone polite but firm. “You know how it works right? We need it for the record.”

You gave a tight smile, shifting your weight from one foot to the other. “Isn’t there any way to bypass that? I mean, don’t you have librarian privileges, something like that? Please, it would take at least fifteen minutes to get to my apartment for my ID, and another fifteen to come back here.”

The librarian sighed, taking her glasses off and setting it down on her desk. She gave you a stern look. “I know you’re desperate, but I can’t just bend the rules even if I want to. Especially not for a student who’s negligent enough to forget her ID at home when you should be carrying it on your person at all times.”

You were about to protest when a smooth and calm voice spoke from behind you. “Here use mine.”

You turned to see a boy holding out his ID card. Silvery blond hair brushed lightly across his eyes, and his pale skin seemed to glow faintly under the library lights. The thin-framed glasses resting on his nose didn’t hide the sharp clarity in his gaze—calm, observant, and entirely unbothered by the chaos you were exuding. His expression was calm as if lending his card to a stranger was the most natural thing in the world. Somehow, that made you even more flustered.

“Oh,” you said, blinking at him. “That’s really nice of you. Thank you.”

He shrugged, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “You looked like you’re about to cry.”

Letting out a sheepish laugh, you took the card and handed it to the librarian. “I mean, I was just about to, actually,” you quipped.

It didn’t even take two minutes for the librarian to check out the book. You returned his ID, your gaze catching his name—Huang Renjun—before handing it back.

“Here. And, uh, thanks again.”

“No problem,” he said, smiling before taking his turn to check out his books. “Good luck with your exam.”

“Thanks. You too,” you replied. As he went to talk to the librarian, you stood there for a moment, hesitating, wanting to say more, or to ask him something—anything—but you had stuff to do. The exam wasn’t going to study itself.

You rushed out of the library, muttering his name under your breath and telling yourself not to forget about the cute boy with the silvery blond hair and an ID he didn’t hesitate to lend.

It’s your second semester as a freshman, and so far, you could say you weren’t the type of student to get caught up in the grind of academics. You took up Liberal Arts out of necessity instead of passion. After highschool, you didn’t have a clear-cut direction or dream job in mind, but you knew you had to go to college so you picked something that left the options open, hoping that eventually, you’d figure it out.

When it comes to academics, you do just enough to get by. Your grades are respectable but nothing extraordinary. You’re not taking things for granted—you just didn’t see the point in staying up all night studying or stressing over perfect grades. Even with average grades, as long as you passed, that was good enough for you. While you respected those who worked hard to excel in their academics, you didn’t feel the need to compete with them. You weren’t interested in pushing yourself that far.

Your friends often teased you about it, calling you laid-back or lazy, but they understood. You didn’t need to be at the top of the class to feel content. You just gave enough to get by, balancing school and the rest of your life without too much strain. You figured most people probably felt the same way—just doing enough, hoping things would eventually fall into place.

“How are you feeling?” Karina asked Giselle, her eyes full of concern. The two of them sat beside you on the mat you’d spread out on the grass in the quad.

They were your housemates—your friends, too—living in the big apartment you all shared. You’d met them at the start of the school year, and sharing a space together had made it easy to grow close.

Giselle sighed, leaning her head against your shoulder. “Not any better. I think the medicine’s not doing anything.”

You rubbed her back gently, trying to comfort her. “Just give it some time. If it gets worse, you can rest at home. I’ll make you some healthy soup.”

Giselle raised an eyebrow, a teasing glint in her eyes. “You can’t cook.”

You laughed, shrugging casually. “How hard can it be? I’m a fast learner.”

Jaemin, who had been sitting across from you, snickered. “Shut up. You can’t even tell the difference between a cucumber and a zucchini.”

You gasped dramatically, scooting away from him, glaring. “You shut up! You used to follow me around like a puppy when we were kids. Stop acting like you’re the smart one.”

Jaemin rolled his eyes. “We were fourteen, not kids.”

You smirked. “Doesn’t change the fact that you followed me around like a lost puppy.”

Jaemin crossed his arms, sighing heavily. “I’m just making things clear because I don’t want to sit here and watch you rewrite the facts in front of your friends. And just for the record, I was lost at the time.”

Karina turned to Giselle. “How does anyone confuse zucchini with cucumber?”

Giselle just shrugged, unimpressed.

You shot them both a look. “In my defense, they look exactly the same!”

The two stared at you, shaking their heads in perfect unison. It was almost comical. “No, they don’t,” Giselle said flatly.

“They really don’t,” Karina agreed.

You were about to fire back when something—or rather, someone—caught your eye. That unmistakable side profile, the silvery hair catching the sunlight just right. “Huang Renjun,” you blurted out, your voice almost dreamy as your gaze followed him.

“Huang who?” Giselle asked, turning to follow your line of sight. Her eyes lit up. “Oh, the guy from the library?”

“Yes!” you gasped, clasping your hands over your mouth like you’d just seen a celebrity. “See? I told you he’s cute.”

“You’re right, he totally is,” Karina chimed in, sharing the same gleeful smile as you and Giselle.

“What’s going on? Who’s that?” Jaemin leaned closer, his curiosity piqued.

You grinned, leaning toward him like you were about to spill the juiciest secret. “He’s the guy who saved my ass yesterday.”

All eyes shifted back to Renjun, who stood by the library talking to a group of students. From this distance, you could see the bright smile on his face as he laughed at something his friend said. He looked so effortlessly friendly, so unbothered—and something about that gave you butterflies.

Giselle nudged your arm, eyes glinting with mischief. “Go say ‘hi’!”

“No way!” you hissed, snapping your head toward her. “He probably doesn’t even remember me.”

You stayed rooted to your spot, feeling your friends’ teasing remarks rain down on you like playful jabs. They nudged and prodded, daring you to make a move, but you could only keep your eyes on Renjun. He lingered outside the library for a few minutes before finally stepping inside, disappearing through the double doors. Before you could think too much, your body moved on autopilot.

“I'll be back,” you mumbled to your friends, brushing off their teasing ‘oooh’s as you hurried across the quad. They exchanged knowing looks, grinning like they’d already won some secret bet, but you ignored them and followed him.  

Inside the library, the cool, quiet air made you pause. You spotted Renjun by the window just as he was sitting down at a vacant desk. Summoning every ounce of courage you had, you approached him.

“Hi,” you said softly, feeling your voice wobble just enough to make you cringe.

Renjun turned, his expression neutral at first before recognition lit up his eyes. “Oh, hey,” he said with a small smile. “What’s up?”  

“I, uh…” You cleared your throat, clutching the book in your hands like it was a lifeline. “I was going to return this today, so I’m gonna have to bother you again with your ID to check it in.” You laughed nervously, hoping the self-deprecation would make up for how awkward you felt.  

Renjun’s smile widened just slightly. “Sure, don’t worry about it. It would’ve been worse if you didn’t.” he teased lightly. Before you could answer, he reached into his pocket, pulling out his own card. “Here.”

“Didn’t want a loaned book to hold your GPA back at the end of the semester, right?” you quipped, taking the card from his hand. Renjun chuckled as he nodded. “I’ll be back in a jiffy,” you added before turning to head to the front desk.

After the book was returned, you skipped over to Renjun’s desk and thanked him for his help. He seemed busy with something, so he just told you you were welcome before returning to his task. Meanwhile, you found yourself lingering. The rational part of your brain was telling you to leave and not push your luck, but the louder part was convincing you to stay.

You spotted a vacant desk next to Renjun’s, so you slid into a seat, pulling out your laptop and the notes for a class paper you were gonna start. The paper wasn’t due until next week, but you needed an excuse—a reason to stay within Renjun’s orbit. So you started typing, glancing at your screen for a few seconds before inevitably stealing a look at him. He was sitting a few tables away, scribbling in a notebook, his expression focused.  He looked extra cute by the window, a soft beam of sunlight catching his hair and his flawless skin as he worked. The way his brows furrowed in concentration, the absentminded way he twirled his pen—it was like he didn’t even realize how distractingly handsome he was. Then again, maybe it was just in your eyes because there was no denying the fact that you were immensely infatuated by him.

You were mid-sentence in your essay when you stole another glance. But he glanced up just as your gaze lingered a second too long. Your eyes darted back to your screen so fast it was a miracle you didn’t get whiplash. Too late, you’d been caught red-handed already. Still, you couldn’t help yourself from doing it again, making sure to be more subtle this time—only to fail at it.

The second time he caught you looking, he held your gaze for a second longer, one eyebrow lifting in silent amusement. By the third or fourth time, he set his pen down, leaned back slightly, and called out softly, “Am I distracting you from your work?”  

You froze, heat rushing to your cheeks. “What? No, I wasn’t—” You fumbled, searching for an excuse. “I was just… looking around. Yes. I’m looking around as I think.”

Renjun chuckled, the sound low and warm. “I see. I thought I had something on my head,” he said, gesturing over his head.  

You huffed, flustered, and busied yourself with your notes, hoping to regain your composure. To your surprise, Renjun didn’t let the moment hang awkwardly. Instead, he asked casually, “What are you working on?”  

“Oh,” you said, grateful for the topic shift. “It’s an essay for a philosophy class.”  

He tilted his head, curious. “Which one?”  

You named the subject, and his expression brightened. “I took that last semester,” he said. “Professor Lee, right?”

“Yeah, that’s her,” you confirmed.

Renjun nodded thoughtfully. ““Well, then you don’t need to worry much. She’s really chill. She’s not the kind of professor who’ll mark you down for having a different opinion, so you can pretty much write how you actually feel about the topic.”  

His words surprised you. “Really?”  

“Really,” he said with a nod. “She actually encourages it. Just make sure you explain your points well. She likes a good argument.”  

You found yourself smiling, his advice easing some of the stress you hadn’t realized you were carrying about the essay. “Thanks. That’s actually very helpful.”  

“No problem.” He picked up his pen again, flashing you one last smile before returning to his notes.  

And just like that, you had one more reason to stay a little longer. You continued writing your paper, making sure you did it well and explained your points clearly. Occasionally, you would glance up at him, grinning to yourself at how attractive he looked when he was focusing. You didn’t need to talk after that. You wanted to, but you couldn’t find the right timing nor the right topic. By the time your phone alarm went off for your next class, you were already halfway through your essay.

Standing up to gather your things, you gave Renjun another glance, debating whether to say goodbye. The idea of walking off without a word felt odd, but you worried a goodbye might seem too eager, too obvious. So you hesitated—just long enough for him to notice.

“Done already?” Renjun asked, tilting his head slightly.

““No! Not yet.” Your response came faster than you intended. “I mean, I have to go to class, so… I’ll finish later.”

He nodded, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “If you need help with that paper, let me know. Maybe I can offer some pointers.”

The offer caught you off guard, and for a second, all you could do was blink at him.

Renjun seemed to realize how it sounded, and his hand darted up to rub the back of his neck. “Wait, that came out wrong. I didn’t mean it like—uh—it wasn’t supposed to sound—” He let out a nervous chuckle. “That was kind of arrogant, wasn’t it?”

“No! Not at all!” you said quickly, shaking your head with more enthusiasm than you intended. “I mean, I would definitely let you know if I needed help.”

His laughter softened, and he ducked his head slightly, as though embarrassed. “Well, now it sounds like I think I’m a genius or something.”

“Renjun, stop. You’re fine,” you assured him, a smile creeping onto your face. And you meant it. There was something unexpectedly charming about his fumbling attempt to explain himself.

He hesitated, then asked, almost shyly, “What’s your name?”

You blinked again. “Sorry?”

“I just realized… you know my name, but I don’t know yours,” he explained, the tips of his ears noticeably pink.

“Oh!” You told him your name, watching as he repeated it under his breath—not once, but twice, as though memorizing every syllable.

When he looked up at you, his smile was soft, almost boyish. “Nice to meet you. You should get to class before you’re late.”

“Right. Yeah. Um, see you around,” you said, clutching your bag tightly and walking out before you said something embarrassingly incoherent.

As soon as you were out of sight, you let the grin you’d been holding back take over. It was silly, how a few awkward exchanges could make your heart race like this. For the first time in a long while, it felt less like fleeting, hormone-driven infatuation and more like a genuinely innocent crush.

For the next few days, the library became your favorite spot, and it definitely wasn’t just because of your paper. Whether it was morning or late afternoon, you found yourself there, trying to catch glimpses of Renjun. Sometimes he was already settled in when you arrived, headphones on and pen tapping rhythmically against his notebook. Other times, you got there first and watched the door with anticipation.

You made it a point to sit near him whenever you could. If the spot next to him was taken, you’d find a table within view. Eventually, you started interacting a bit more, small moments that shouldn’t have felt significant but somehow they did.

Like the time you dropped your pen and Renjun leaned down to retrieve it, handing it to you with a quiet, “Here you go.” 

His fingers brushed yours briefly, and though it lasted less than a second, it was enough to make your heart skip a beat. Another time, while unpacking your bag, your water bottle rolled off the table. Renjun caught it mid-fall and handed it back with an amused smile. “Careful, your bag is out for sabotage today,” he joked.

You smiled, shaking your head. “Not when you’re here to save the day,” you retorted, feeling proud of your quick and witty response.

Then there was the time you walked past him on your way to the shelves, and he looked up, offering a small nod of acknowledgment. It wasn’t much—just a polite gesture—but it left you grinning like an idiot as you pretended to browse the books, replaying the moment in your head.

One morning, Renjun sneezed, and you instinctively murmured, “Bless you.” He glanced at you, surprised but touched. 

“Thanks,” he said softly, his smile warm enough to make you forget where you were.

Each interaction, however small, only made you more drawn to him. One day, Giselle decided to tag along, claiming she needed to ‘see this Renjun guy’ for herself. The two of you walked into the library, and sure enough, he was already there, engrossed in his notes. Giselle wasted no time making her move, striding right up to him with her trademark confidence.

“Hi! You’re Renjun, right?” she asked, her tone friendly but direct.

Renjun looked up, startled but polite. “Uh, yeah. Do I know you?”

“No, but I think we have a mutual friend. Ningning?”

Renjun’s expression softened at the mention of Ningning, a small smile tugging at his lips. “Oh, yeah, Ningning.”

“How is she? I haven’t seen her since last semester.”

You watched the exchange from a few steps away, nervous and embarrassed at the same time. Giselle was handling the conversation so effortlessly, but you couldn’t help but worry about how this would make you look.

After chatting for a minute, Giselle turned to you and grinned. “Nice to meet you, we’ll leave you to it. Or, actually,” she gestured to the empty seat across from Renjun, “do you mind if we sit here?”

Renjun shook his head. “No. Go ahead.”

Giselle gave you a pointed look as the two of you sat down, clearly proud of herself for setting this up. That day, you ended up sitting with Renjun without needing an excuse. Giselle paved the way with her easy conversation, dropping Ningning’s name enough times to turn the awkward encounter into something comfortable. She only stayed for about twenty minutes before leaving, claiming she had other things to do. 

“Good luck with your paper!” she called out, leaving you alone with Renjun. You chatted a lot more than usual then, and you were giddy and smiling the whole time.

The moment that truly melted you, though, happened on a particularly busy day. The library was unusually crowded, and you could not find a vacant seat. You were about to leave for the day when you spotted a hand waving in the air. It took you a second to realize it was Renjun, beckoning you over to the seat next to him.

The sight made your stomach flutter, sending a wholesome kind of warmth through you. You didn’t even hesitate, smiling as you walked through the maze of desks and sat down next to him. “Hi! This place is full full.”

“I know. It’s not even exam week,” he replied while you were setting your stuff down. Then he gestured to the side of the table where his books were sprawled. “Do you need more space? I can move these.”

“Oh no, it’s fine,” you said quickly, but the gesture made your chest flutter all the same.

It was almost the deadline for your paper, and while you were hoping you could use that as an excuse to sit with him that day, it seemed unnecessary now. Still, you thought it would be best to ask for his help while you were there.

“I’m taking you up on that offer today,” you began, hoping your cheerfulness would mask the nervousness you were feeling.

“Finally,” he quipped back, closing his book as he watched you open your laptop beside him. “I was starting to feel embarrassed about that offer. I was thinking you never really needed help and I was being arrogant.”

“Oh, stop it,” you huffed, toggling to the paper in your device. “Here. Would you mind taking a look at my draft? Just to see if it makes sense?”

Instead of tugging the laptop toward him, as you normally would, Renjun scooted closer, his shoulder brushing against yours as he leaned over your screen. He read it as it was, eyes scanning your words with quiet focus. Probably too focused to even notice you holding your breath beside him, heart racing in your chest at the sudden proximity.

“This is good,” he said after a moment, his voice low and thoughtful. “But here, maybe you could elaborate more on this point. And this—” he gestured to another part, “—is strong, but you could link it back to this statement more clearly.”  

You nodded, though most of his advice went over your head because your brain was too busy short-circuiting over how close he was. The scent of his cologne, the way his lips moved as he explained something you didn’t catch—all of it was impossibly distracting.

When he leaned back, you snapped out of your daze enough to say, “Thanks. That was really helpful.”  

“It’s nothing,” he said, flashing a small smile. “If you need help again, just let me know—so long as it’s something I actually know.”  

And then he added, almost offhandedly, “It’s nice studying with someone.”  

Your heart skipped a beat, and you didn’t hesitate to seize the moment. “Maybe we could be study buddies?” you offered, trying to sound as casual as you could.

Renjun looked at you for a second, then nodded. “You know what? Maybe we should be study buddies.”

Ever since you moved away for college, you’d grown to enjoy three things: first, the independence of doing things on your own time without having to consider family members; second, experiencing a city so different from the hometown where you’d spent most of your life; and lastly, going to parties without a curfew.

These might sound shallow to some people, and honestly, you thought so too. Then again, you’d happily admit that you weren’t a profound kind of girl.  Growing up, you’d always been easy to please—and just as easy to disappoint. You wore your heart on your sleeve, never bothering to bottle up your feelings or hide your opinions. It helped that you were outgoing, the kind of person who cared more about your own well being than having beef with other people, so you never really had to fight anyone.

That being said, you liked to keep your circle small, only making friends with people you like and keeping a civil relationship with everyone else. With your small circle of friends—only Giselle, Karina, and Jaemin—it was easy to just tell them everything about you.

But tonight, even that small circle couldn’t make this party feel less exhausting.

“Girl, you did not come here just to stay invisible in a corner,” Karina sighed, towering over you on the lumpy corner couch while you sipped from a red plastic cup.

“What?” you asked, genuinely puzzled. “What else am I supposed to do?”

“I don’t know, be normal? You’re more fun than this,” she retorted, squeezing herself into the seat next to you. “Don’t make me sound like your mom, but it’s like you’re not even trying tonight. You’re usually the one dragging me into something embarrassing.”

“Yeah, but this is kinda boring, don’t you think?” you said, gesturing vaguely at the chaos around you.

Music blared from the speakers, with strobe lights dancing in the ceilings and the floors all around you. Blending with the music were the sounds of people chatting and laughing animatedly. Students were either drunk or high, dancing in circles or hanging off each other. Even the air felt too heavy, thick with the smell of sweat, booze, and something you were pretty sure wasn’t tobacco.

Karina’s eyes widened like you’d just said something ridiculous. “Boring? This?” she scoffed, throwing her hands up at the lively crowd.

You grinned at her over the rim of your cup. “Just saying.”

She rolled her eyes, but you noticed the corner of her lips twitching like she was trying not to smile. The two of you must have looked ridiculous, crammed onto the tiny couch while the rest of the party swirled around you.

“Where’s Gigi, anyway?” Karina asked, scanning the crowd.

You leaned to the side, spotting Giselle at the bar. She was laughing with a guy who was practically draped over her, his lips close to her ear as he whispered something that made her toss her hair back and giggle.

“She’s having fun,” you said, nodding toward her.

“At least one of us is,” Karina grumbled.

“Hey, I didn’t ask you to sit here and look lonely with me. I was doing a good enough job of it by myself,” you teased, nudging her shoulder.

Before she could retort, Jaemin appeared between the two of you, crouching slightly so he could speak right into your ears. “Long faces at a party? You two are ruining the vibe.”

“Go away,” Karina grumbled, shoving Jaemin’s face with her palm.

Undeterred, Jaemin grabbed her hand, intertwining their fingers with a devilish grin. “I know why you’re sulking. Forget about him; he’s not coming.”

“You little—” Karina tried to yank her hand back, but Jaemin held on, wagging his head as if scolding her.

Turning his attention to you, he asked, “And you? What’s your excuse? Hungry? Sleepy? Time of the month? Which is it?”

“What are you even talking about?” you replied, raising an eyebrow.

Jaemin narrowed his eyes like he’d caught you in a lie. “You do know that it’s weirder to see you idle at a party than when you’re throwing it back on the dance floor, right?”

You shrugged, taking another sip from your cup. “Can’t a girl take a break from all that?”

Karina, finally prying her hand free, leaned back with a smirk. “Shouldn’t you be happy about this? Less activity from her means less work for you.”

Jaemin stood upright like he’d just had a light bulb moment. It was also then that Giselle came bounding over excitedly. “Jeno. Jeno. Jeno,” she chanted, pointing toward the staircase.

Your ears perked up as you followed her gaze. There he was—Lee Jeno—locked in a steamy makeout session with a pretty girl you’d seen around before.

Karina gave you a sidelong glance, her voice cautious. “Are you seeing that right now?”

“I am,” you chuckled, rolling your eyes. “What a fuckboy.”

Giselle raised an eyebrow, nudging your arm. “Yet you still like him, don’t you?”

“Of course, I do,” you admitted with a chuckle. “Him being a fuckboy doesn’t change the fact that he’s hot.”

Karina cringed dramatically. “Your judgment is so questionable.”

Jaemin snapped his fingers in front of your face. “Hold up. What’s going on? Do you have a thing for Lee Jeno too?” When you grinned instead of answering, he groaned, shaking his head. “Just how many crushes do you have, woman?”

Honestly, only two—Jeno and Renjun. But these days, Renjun had the edge. Jeno might’ve been the one who flirted with you last semester, but lately, you couldn’t help but swoon over Renjun’s quieter, more thoughtful charm.

“I like Renjun more,” you confessed. “He’s just the complete opposite of Jeno. I kinda wish he were here. Though I know this isn’t really his scene.”

“Girl, doesn’t it bother you that you like two completely different types of guys at the same time?” Karina asked, genuinely curious.

You scoffed, throwing your hands up in mock exasperation. “Girl, does it matter?”

For a while, you stayed in the corner, sipping your drink and chatting with your friends. But as the minutes ticked by, the infectious energy of the crowd started pulling you in. Soon you were getting up from the couch and joining the thrumming crowd, Karina trailing behind you.

Giselle and Jaemin quickly found their own adventures—Giselle gravitating back toward the bar, her giggles disappearing into the noise, and Jaemin vanishing somewhere toward the dance floor. That left you and Karina sticking close, both of you weaving through the chaos as you searched for the makeshift minibar.

That’s when Donghyuck appeared.

The first thing he did when he saw you was flirt. “Hi, gorgeous. Are you going home with me after this, or should we just skip the formalities and head back to my place now?”

You gave him a deadpan look. “Pass.”

He smirked, completely unfazed. “The bathroom’s closer if my place is too far for you.”

“Isn’t your place Mark Lee’s place?” you shot back. “Hard pass.”

Donghyuck’s grin widened like he’d been waiting for you to say that. “Aw, still sore about getting rejected by Mark?”

“I wasn’t rejected,” you snapped, turning to face him fully. “It was a misunderstanding.”

“Sure it was,” he drawled, leaning in closer. “But lucky for you, Mark’s not coming home tonight. Think of it as a golden opportunity.”

“Dude, she’s just not that into you,” Karina cut in, her tone flat as she rolled her eyes.

Donghyuck turned to her with a theatrical gasp. “I don’t know about that,” he replied, looking back at you and winking playfully.

You felt a chill run down your spine—not the kind caused by fear or disgust, but the kind that made your skin tingle and sent heat between your thighs. It was infuriating how easily Lee Donghyuck could pull that off, and even more infuriating that your body had the nerve to respond.

But you’d sooner gouge your own eyes out than admit that to him. “Go away, Hyuck,” you said, shoving him lightly with your free hand.

He laughed, stepping back just enough to give you space but staying close enough to remain a nuisance. “See you later, then.”

As he walked off, Karina gave you a side-eye. “You’re not hanging out with that guy, are you?”

“No, I’m not,” you lied, taking another sip of your drink and avoiding her gaze.

“Good. That guy is nothing but trouble,” she replied, glancing back at Donghyuck who had now found another girl to bother.

The next morning, you woke up to the sharp ring of your alarm blaring in your ears. Disoriented, you reached out blindly to silence it, only for your hand to slap the cold, hard floor. Floor? You groaned, peeling your cheek off the surface and wincing at the sticky residue clinging to your skin. Why were you on the floor?

Your head pounded mercilessly, a dull ache that only grew worse as you sat up and tried to piece together what had happened the night before. Your phone buzzed on the table, and when you reached for it, you caught a glimpse of your reflection in the black screen: mascara smudged, hair in complete disarray, and a faint red mark on your forehead where you must have hit something.

“Crap,” you muttered, staring at the time. You had twenty minutes to make it to your study session with Renjun!

Scrambling to your feet, you almost tripped over your own feet on your way to the bathroom. No matter how tight your schedule was, you must not skip taking a shower before going out today because you stink. So you stepped under the shower head, using cold water on purpose in hopes that the freezing water would jolt you into wakefulness. You scrubbed your face like it would erase the remnants of last night’s chaos.

What even was last night’s chaos?

Snippets of loud music, flashing lights, and Donghyuck’s smirk popped into your mind, but you shoved them aside. You could recall every bit of last night if you tried hard enough, but there was no time to dwell on your questionable life choices. You threw on a hoodie and jeans, grabbed your bag, and sprinted out the door, hair still damp and heart pounding.

When you reached the library, you were breathing hard, and the cold air made your headache even worse. The library was almost deserted. Pulling out your phone, you texted Renjun to let him know you’d made it, only for his reply to make you cringe.

Renjun: Love your enthusiasm, but aren’t you an hour too early? 😀

The realization came with shame: you were way too eager. There was no other way to spin it. You sat down at a random table, trying to blend into the background despite the fact that the library was far from crowded. You spent the next few minutes scrolling through your phone, distracting yourself from the embarrassment you were feeling inside.

Ten minutes later, Renjun walked in, his usual calm demeanor intact. When he spotted you, he smiled and quickened his pace. “Hi,” he greeted, setting his bag down across from you.

“Hi,” you greeted back, moving your bag out of the desk. “Aren’t we supposed to meet later?”

“Yeah, but you’re already here, so might as well,” he replied, shrugging. “This works better for me, actually, since I have errands later.”

“We could always reschedule, you know?” you suggested, though that was far from what you were feeling inside. “And did you rush here? You look out of breath.”

“Ah.” Renjun chuckled as he grabbed his water bottle and took a huge sip. “I didn’t want you to wait too long, so I rushed out,” he said after a drink.

His words caught you off guard. He looked so nonchalant about it, like it wasn’t a big deal, but the thought of him rushing because of you warmed your chest.

From that day on, Renjun always sat with you during your study sessions. It wasn’t something you planned, but it became an unspoken agreement between the two of you, a rhythm that settled into place without either of you needing to say a word.

Small gestures like him offering his pen when yours ran out of ink felt special, no matter how much you tried to convince yourself otherwise. It was just convenience, you told yourself, but the way his hand lingered a second too long or the faint smile he’d flash before going back to his notes made it impossible not to wonder.

He’d text you ahead of time if the library was packed, letting you know he’d saved you a seat or that you should just reschedule. You’d thank him, trying to sound casual, but your chest always felt lighter seeing his name light up your screen.

Over time, your study sessions became less about the textbooks and more about getting to know the little things that made Renjun… Renjun. He was a linguistics student who could explain the quirks of syntax or the history of a word with an enthusiasm that made you want to listen, even when you weren’t entirely interested. He liked sci-fi movies—ones with confusing plots and bizarre visuals—and he’d binge them whenever he wasn’t drowning in assignments.

You noticed he had a birthmark on the back of his hand—grayish with a hint of purple, like a bruise that never faded. The first time you commented on it, asking if he’d hurt himself, he chuckled and said, “It’s been there since I was a kid.”

Sometimes, when he was particularly focused, his brows would furrow and his lips would press into a pout that you found annoyingly endearing. You’d have to stop yourself from staring too long, afraid he’d catch you.

Renjun had this habit of quietly humming under his breath while writing notes. It was so soft you almost missed it, but once you noticed, you couldn’t unhear it. When you teased him about it one day, he laughed, embarrassed, but the sound of his laughter stuck with you long after the session ended.

It was in these in-between moments that you realized how much you looked forward to spending time with him—not just as a study buddy, but as someone who made the world feel a little less ordinary.

One afternoon, you caught him sketching in the margins of his notebook while you took notes. His pencil moved with a quiet confidence, tracing lines and curves that turned into an intricate little doodle.

“Is that what you do when you’re bored?” you asked, leaning over to get a better look.

Renjun quickly covered the drawing with his hand, chuckling nervously. “It’s nothing. Just a habit.”

You tilted your head, smiling. “A habit? You’re pretty good.”

He gave you a small smile but didn’t seem convinced by your words.

“I mean it,” you insisted, giving him a sincere look.

He hesitated before glancing down at his notebook. “Thanks,” he said softly, opening his notebook again. “Do you wanna see it?”

“Are you kidding me? Yes!” you giggled, leaning closer to take a look. “I love visual arts. It’s like something I wish I could do but since I don’t have the talent for it, I just settle with appreciating it.”

“Well, I don’t have the talent either. It’s just a hobby,” he replied while you were flipping through the pages of his notebook, admiring the small doodles on the margins.

“You’re too modest,” you chimed, impressed by the effortless beauty of his cute, almost cartoonish art. “I think you’re really good at this.”

Encouraged by your sincerity, he opened up a little. “I liked drawing as a kid. I used to think I’d pursue it as a career, but, you know, priorities. I have a vision of an ideal future which seemed difficult to achieve if I chose art.”

You frowned. “That’s kinda sad.”

He quickly shook his head, his tone light. “I don’t feel that way about it, though. It’s not like I’m completely banned from making art. I’m just putting it on hold for now.”

You watched him closely, noting the way his expression shifted between wistfulness and acceptance. The way he brushed it off so easily tugged at something in you. “Well,” you said after a moment, “for what it’s worth, I think you should keep doing it. Even if it’s just for yourself.”

Renjun looked at you, his lips quirking into a soft smile that lingered a little too long. “Thanks,” he said again, and this time, he sounded like he meant it.

“I think he likes you,” Karina said, sprawled across the couch, hugging a throw pillow with a dreamy grin on her face. “You’ve been spending so much time together lately. I wouldn’t be surprised if he asks you out soon.”

“Agreed,” Giselle added, flipping through a magazine that was clearly not as interesting as this topic. “He really should do it soon.”

You plopped down on the floor with a loud sigh, dramatically draping an arm over your eyes. “You think so?”

“Don’t let it go to your head,” Jaemin muttered from his spot on the carpet, tossing popcorn into the air and catching it with his mouth. “You’ve barely seen each other outside the library. For all you know, he’s just being nice.”

“Oh, come on,” you shot back, lifting your arm to squint at him. “You don’t see the way he looks at me with this little smile, like…” You mimicked an exaggerated dreamy face.

Karina giggled. “You’re so delusional. It’s cute, though.”

Giselle joined in. “Yeah, the way you’ve been acting lately is straight out of a high school drama. You, of all people, getting excited about study sessions? Who are you?”

“Hey, I’ve always been academically inclined!” you defended, sitting up.

Jaemin snorted. “Cramming at 3 a.m. doesn’t count as ‘academically inclined.’”

You threw a popcorn kernel at him, which he dodged with an annoyingly smug grin. “For your information,” you said, pointing at him with mock indignation, “I’ve been taking notes. Like, actual, color-coded, neat notes. With highlighters.”

“Oh no,” Giselle gasped, feigning horror. “The highlighters! It’s worse than we thought!”

“It’s called being responsible,” you huffed, crossing your arms with a proud smirk.

“It’s called being whipped,” Jaemin corrected, leaning back with a smirk. “You’re not fooling anyone. You’re basically studying because you’re hoping he’ll think you’re smart and fall for you.”

“First of all,” you said, holding up a finger, “Renjun already knows I’m smart.”

Jaemin snorted.

“Second of all,” you continued, ignoring him, “this newfound work ethic has nothing to do with him.”

“Right,” Giselle drawled, shooting Jaemin a look.

“Absolutely nothing,” you repeated with a grin, tossing popcorn into your own mouth.

“Guys, give her a break,” Karina chided softly, though she was grinning playfully too. “Isn’t it good that she’s motivated?”

Giselle snickered, giving you a mischievous side eye. “Anyone would be motivated if they’re being promised some di—”

You cut her off by shoving popcorn in her mouth. “I haven’t been promised anything.”

Giselle chewed her food quickly and started poking your sides. “You’re grinning so hard your face is gonna crack.”

You laughed, playfully swatting her hand away. “I just think it’s nice, okay? To have a study buddy who, like, actually cares if I pass my exams. Unlike some people.” You gave Jaemin a pointed look.

“Hey, I care,” he replied, holding up his hands defensively. “I just don’t think you should fool yourself into thinking it’s anything more than studying.”

Karina laughed. “Don’t listen to him. I think it’s sweet. It’s cute seeing you so motivated, even if it is…” she trailed off, glancing at Giselle.

“Dick-motivated,” she finished bluntly, popping another piece of popcorn into her mouth.

“You’re so gross,” you scoffed, narrowing your eyes at her.

“Hey, I call it like I see it,” Giselle shrugged. 

“I will say this, though, if it’s making you study harder, maybe it’s not the worst thing. We’re freshmen, so you can still pave the way for yourself to graduate with flying colors,” Jaemin added, wiggling his eyebrows. “But you guys need to go out of that library first. Go to the quad for a change. Maybe get coffee together or something.”

“Jaemin,” you said, resting your chin on your hand with an exaggerated pout, “why would I need coffee when Renjun already gives me a caffeine rush by just existing?”

Giselle cackled. “Oh my god, you’re hopeless.”

“Hopelessly in love,” you declared dramatically, flopping back onto the floor with a hand over your heart.

Karina shook her head, laughing. “You’re so embarrassing.”

“You love me anyway.”

Jaemin groaned. “No, seriously. Stop living in your fantasy world and ask him to hang out. Outside. Of. The. Library.”

You peeked up at him with a mischievous grin. “But what if he’s waiting for the perfect moment to confess? What if he’s just as nervous as I am?”

“Then you’re both pathetic,” Giselle deadpanned, though her lips twitched like she was holding back a laugh.

“Don’t worry,” you said with mock seriousness. “When we finally get together, I’ll make sure to invite you to the wedding.”

Giselle and Jaemin groaned again, this time louder. “You’re insufferable when you’re like this,” Jaemin complained.

You just laughed, the giddy, teenage-like crush bubbling over until it spilled out of you in the form of exaggerated dramatics. Maybe your friends were right, and you should try to take things further, but for now, you were perfectly content basking in the joy of it all—even if your friends never let you live it down.

However, it seemed like your friends weren’t the only ones bothered about the slow development in your relationship with Renjun. The universe too, knew that it was time for you to leave the safe confines of the campus library. 

It happened on a late Sunday afternoon. You walked into a café, expecting nothing more than a quiet moment with your usual overpriced latte. But then you spotted him—Renjun. He wore a soft expression that caught the golden light streaming through the window, his face almost glowing as he leaned over a notebook. He was sitting alone with a half-empty cup of coffee by his side, his pencil moving in quick, deliberate strokes.

You knew, logically, that Renjun didn’t spend every waking moment in the library. He had a life outside of it, of course. But seeing him in a place without the endless shelves of books and the soothing silence of the library around felt a little weird, in a good way. There was something oddly intimate about it, like you’d stumbled into a part of his life you had never seen before—and in a way, it really was something you hadn’t seen before. 

You were still rooted to the spot, trying to decide whether to turn around and flee or walk over and say hi, when Renjun glanced up—and noticed you. His eyes widened slightly in surprise before his face broke into a small, easy smile. He lifted a hand in a casual wave, gesturing for you to come over.

Well, so much for running away, you thought to yourself as you waved back. You walked over, trying your best to seem like you weren’t overthinking every step. 

“Hey,” he greeted, his smile widening as he closed his notebook and pushed it aside. “Fancy seeing you here.”

“You too,” you replied, hoping your voice sounded light and not as jittery as you felt. You glanced around, pretending to take in the café like it wasn’t the hundredth time you’d been there. “I was just gonna grab some coffee but I didn’t expect to run into you here. No offense but I thought your all-time favorite place is the library.”

Renjun chuckled. “Not really. I like coming here when the library gets too quiet.”

You nodded, though his words sent your mind spiraling. He’d been here all this time, escaping the quiet of the library, while you’d been basking in it, thinking it was your shared haven.

“I see, so you come here often?” you asked, cringing internally at how cliché you sounded.

Renjun nodded. “Not as often as I’d like. I get caught up in schoolwork most of the time. But when I do, this is my go-to spot.”

“Cool,” you replied, though you felt anything but. Your mind was screaming at you to think of something interesting to say but all you could do was nod.

“Do you want to join me?” he asked, gesturing to the chair across from him.

The question caught you off guard, and for a second, you just stared at him like he’d asked you to solve an equation without a calculator—and you sucked at Math!

“Yeah, sure,” you said finally, sliding into the seat. As you settled in, the reality of the situation hit you—this was your chance! No library distractions, no pretense of study sessions. Just you and Renjun, in a cozy café, with nothing but time and the faint buzz of espresso machines between you. And suddenly, your usual crush-induced dramatics didn’t seem so silly anymore.

Renjun had this ability to make the simplest moments feel meaningful. Like when he offered to buy you coffee, even remembering your favorite drink—something you’d mentioned in passing weeks ago. You couldn’t help but wonder if he paid this much attention to everyone or if you were, somehow, different—special, in a way. Maybe you were delusional. Maybe he was just polite. But maybe, just maybe, he actually cared.

The two of you talked about random things as the café buzzed quietly around you—favorite movies, weird study habits, how caffeine was both a blessing and a curse. Renjun listened intently, and just when you thought the conversation might drift into silence, he asked, “Why did you choose your major?”

The question caught you off guard, not because it was invasive but because of how thoughtful it was. It wasn’t something you expected to be asked over coffee. You paused, giving yourself a moment to consider your answer.

“I guess I just fell into it,” you admitted, twirling your straw. “It felt like the safe choice, you know? Like something I couldn’t go wrong with. But sometimes, I wonder if I should’ve picked something else. Something I’m actually passionate about.”

Renjun tilted his head, his expression thoughtful. “What would that be? If you could choose anything?”

You hesitated, surprised by his genuine interest. “I don’t know. I’m not really passionate about something in particular.”

“Well, you are interested in something though, right?” he asked, leaning forward slightly.

You shrugged, feeling a bit self-conscious under his gaze. “I’m interested in a lot of things, just not interested enough to pursue them.”

“Any hobbies?” he asked again, looking genuinely curious. “They said what you do in your free time says a lot about what you’re passionate about. Sometimes you don’t even realize it.”

“I don’t know if the things I do in my free time are considered hobbies.”

“That’s the general description of hobbies, isn’t it?” He chuckled lightly. “Things you do in your free time?”

You smiled sheepishly. “I know. I do have hobbies and I tried looking at them to see which one would be interesting enough to pursue. Couldn’t decide on one. Everything just seems so generic.”

Renjun’s lips quirked into a small smile, and he nodded like he understood. “I think a lot of people feel that way about the things they love. But it doesn’t mean you shouldn’t try.”

You weren’t sure what to say to that, so you simply smiled back, warmth blooming in your chest.

When you mentioned that you were on your way to the library to catch up on assignments, Renjun said he’d join you since he had nothing else to do. Your heart flipped at his casual offer, though your mind immediately began spiraling. Did he actually want to spend more time with you, or was it just convenient?

The evening passed in quiet companionship at the library. While you worked on your assignments, Renjun sketched in his notebook, the sound of his pencil scratching faintly against the paper. You stole glances at him, unable to help yourself. There was something peaceful about the way he was so focused, his  hair falling into his eyes as he worked. At some point, you asked to discuss your assignment with him, hoping to get his opinions on your stance.

When it was time to leave, Renjun offered to walk you home. The offer sent your mind reeling again, but before you could respond, Jaemin showed up, his usual smirk firmly in place. “You guys going somewhere?” he drawled, the mischief in his eyes impossible to miss.

You blinked, barely processing his words, because all you could feel was a faint irritation bubbling up. Of course, Jaemin had to show up now, of all times. You trudged toward him with your brows furrowed. And in a low voice, you scolded him. “What are you doing here? You’re ruining my moment!”

“Karina sent me,” he explained, also lowering his voice. He looked irritated too. “She’s going cuckoo. Said you weren’t picking up your phone and it’s past ten o’clock now.”

You stole a glance at Renjun, who was watching the interaction quietly, his expression curious but unreadable. You cleared your throat. “This is Jaemin,” you said reluctantly, gesturing toward him. “He’s a friend.”

“Best friend. We’ve known each other since we were kids,” Jaemin corrected.

You elbowed him in the rib, making him wince in pain. “Teenagers. We’ve known each other since we were teenagers. He’s my mom’s friend’s son.”

Renjun’s gaze shifted to you briefly, as if silently asking for more context. The slight crease in his brow made your stomach flutter, and you felt the need to elaborate. “My roommate Karina made him come check on me.”

Jaemin raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at his lips. “And you must be Huang Renjun. I’ve heard so much about you,” he said, offering his hand for a shake.

Renjun took it. “You have?” he asked, his tone polite but clearly surprised.

“Yeah. She’s been talking about—ow!” Before Jaemin could finish, you elbowed him again.

“Thanks for today,” you chimed, smiling brightly at Renjun in an attempt to steer the conversation back to normalcy. “For, you know, the coffee and the help with my assignment.”

Renjun turned to you with an easy smile. “Anytime. Hopefully, I didn’t distract you from it too much.”

“Absolutely not,” you replied, shaking your head.

“That’s good then,” he said with a small nod. “I guess I’ll leave you to it. See you next time?”

The words were casual, but they echoed beautifully in your ears. See you next time? Did he mean that? Like, does he actually want to see you again? Or was it something polite people like him would say? You started overanalyzing right then and there, picking apart his tone, his word choice, the little upward curve of his lips when he said it.

“Yeah. See you next time,” you replied, waving a hand as he gave both of you one last look before exiting the double doors.

Your eyes followed him as he walked away, his silhouette framed by the glow of the library’s lights. It was like your crush had decided to script this scene for maximum drama. You wondered if he’d think about this moment later. Would he replay it in his head the way you would? Probably not.

As soon as the door closed behind Renjun, Jaemin leaned in, pulling you out of your musings. “You’re smiling like a total lovesick fool right now,” he sniggered. “It’s almost painful to watch. Almost.”

Your smile vanished as you shot him a glare, though your cheeks burned. “You’re literally the worst.”

“Maybe. But I’m also the reason Karina’s not hunting you down with a broom, so, you’re welcome.”

You rolled your eyes and started walking toward the exit, Jaemin falling into step beside you. Still, as much as you wanted to be annoyed, your thoughts kept drifting back to Renjun’s soft smile and the way he’d said, See you next time.

Karina and Giselle were at the apartment when you got back. Before Karina could preach about your agreement to let each other know if one of you would come home late, you told them about Renjun and the teasing started immediately. 

“Did he say anything?” Giselle asked, practically bouncing with excitement.

You groaned, dropping onto the couch dramatically. “No, he didn’t say anything. But he wanted to walk me home, kind of.”

“Kind of?” Karina repeated with a laugh.

“He offered, but Jaemin showed up, so it didn’t really count,” you admitted.

“Well, at least he offered,” Giselle pointed out.

“Exactly,” Giselle said. “That’s practically a confession of love in boy language. Men are simple like that.”

“Hey!” Jaemin protested but no one paid any attention.

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t help the way your heart fluttered at the thought. Maybe they were exaggerating. Or maybe you were just hopelessly, blissfully delusional. Either way, you didn’t mind.

The smell of food greeted you as soon as you stepped out of your bedroom, and your stomach rumbled in approval. Following the aroma, you found Jaemin in the kitchen, busily moving around with your hot pink apron tied over his t-shirt.

“Guys, it’s my favorite person in the whole wide world!” you announced dramatically, taking a seat and marveling at the spread of dishes already on the table.

“Stop lying and eat,” Jaemin scolded, his tone sharp but his eyes amused. He carefully set a steaming clay pot in the center of the table, the savory aroma filling the room.

“Na Jaemin, you’re cooking up a feast!” Giselle exclaimed, appearing in the doorway and eyeing the food hungrily. “What’s the occasion?”

Karina came in last, casually pulling her hair into a bun. “I asked him to cook for us because everything in the fridge was about to go bad.”

“Really?” you asked, your spoonful of fried rice hovering mid-air. “All of it?” Without waiting for an answer, you stuffed the spoon into your mouth, letting out a satisfied hum at the flavor.

“Nearly all of it,” Karina confirmed as she sat down next to Giselle. “We haven’t been cooking much lately. The groceries have been untouched for over a week now.”

“Why do we even bother to buy groceries when all we do is order takeout,” Giselle asked, shrugging.

“Hey, don’t say that. We eat home cooked meals sometimes,” you chided, pouting because you were the cook in the house. “Although, I’ll have to admit, I haven’t been cooking much lately.”

“Good thing you have me,” Jaemin said smugly, wiping his hands on the apron. “Everybody say ‘Thank you, Jaemin.’”

“Thank you, Jaemin,” all three of you obliged.

As everyone dug in, Jaemin leaned back, watching you all enjoy the food with a satisfied expression. The sound of clinking utensils and satisfied hums filled the room, and for a moment, you thought this was just another one of Jaemin’s regular ‘save the kitchen’ moments. But then Jaemin reached into his backpack, slung over the back of a chair, and pulled out a small stack of flyers. 

“Speaking of appreciating my genius,” he began, sliding one to each of you, “the fine arts department is hosting an exhibit this weekend. Photography, paintings, sketches—you name it. You guys should come.”

You glanced down at the flyer. The bold text read ‘Life Imitates Art: NCIT Student Art Exhibit’ accompanied by an artsy photo of a painted skyline.

“Oh, this looks cool!” Giselle said, holding up her flyer.

“Of course it does. My department made it,” Jaemin replied smugly. “And, I know someone who loves art and would definitely appreciate this.”

“Who could it be?” Karina muttered, smiling as she glanced at you.

You rolled your eyes at Jaemin’s theatrics, but you couldn’t deny the excitement bubbling in your chest. Art exhibits were totally your thing, and Jaemin knew it. However, the moment you looked back at the flyer, your thoughts drifted to a certain someone.

Would Renjun enjoy something like this? You remembered how he’d once shown you his drawings, shyly flipping through margins of his notebook filled with sketches and doodles of nature, cartoons, and people.  The idea of walking through the gallery with him, admiring the art and sharing thoughts, made your heart skip a beat.

“Will our photos be there?” Giselle asked, pulling you back to reality. “You’ve taken enough pictures of us to fill a gallery.”

Jaemin snickered. “Nope. Freshmen aren’t allowed to participate.”

“What?” the three of you exclaimed in unison, outraged.

“Unfair,” Giselle muttered. “You’re better than half the juniors I know.”

“Exactly!” Karina added, frowning. “Who decided that rule anyway?”

Jaemin shrugged, unbothered. “Rules are rules. Besides, you think I want to deal with more critiques from professors? Hard pass.”

“That’s so lame,” you chimed in, frowning as well. “Your pictures of us deserve to be up there.”

“Flattery won’t change anything,” Jaemin replied with a grin. “But you will come to the exhibit, right?”

“Of course,” Karina answered immediately.

“Definitely,” Giselle said, nudging you. “Right?”

“Obviously,” you replied with a shrug, trying to sound nonchalant.

“Do we have to RSVP, or can we just show up?” Karina asked.

“Just show up. But get there early—it’ll be packed,” Jaemin said. Then he turned to you specifically, raising an eyebrow. “And don’t flake.”

“Who, me?” you said, feigning innocence. “I’d never miss a chance to see what the fine arts department cooked up. You know that.”

The conversation continued with Jaemin fielding questions about the exhibit, but you couldn’t stop thinking about how to casually bring it up with Renjun. Would it be weird to invite him? Would he even want to come?

By the time dinner was over, your mind was already racing with possible scenarios. One thing was clear: you needed to find a way to mention the exhibit to Renjun without sounding like you were asking him on a date. Even though that’s exactly what you were hoping for.

Three days later, you wondered how you managed to invite Renjun to the exhibit without fumbling over your words too much. The memory of your awkward phrasing made you cringe slightly every time it replayed in your head, but here you were—standing next to him in the middle of the gallery, surrounded by art.

He seemed genuinely interested in the pieces, his eyes darting from one frame to another with a quiet intensity. Every now and then, he’d point something out—a brushstroke technique in a painting or the composition of a photograph—and you’d nod along, pretending you weren’t hyper-focused on the way his lips curved as he spoke. 

Normally, you’d be more proactive than this. You could talk about art and techniques for days. But at the time, you were more focused on spending the time with him that you could only listen to his thoughts. You offered some of your own comments, but not as much as you would when it was someone else there with you.

The exhibit didn’t lead to anything romantic, as you’d half-hoped. There were no magical moments, no grand gestures, no accidentally brushing hands that sent sparks flying. But somehow, that was okay. You were content just being there with him.

Dinner was a grander affair than the exhibit, to you, at least. It wasn’t anything fancy—just fast food at a brightly lit diner. You sat across from each other, unwrapping burgers and sipping on sodas, talking about this and that.

As you both ate, the conversation drifted to lighter topics—how the exhibit had surprised you both with its variety, how one of the paintings reminded him of a place he’d visited as a kid, and the sheer horror of seeing the price tags on some of the pieces.

“Five thousand dollars for that?” he exclaimed, gesturing vaguely as if the painting were still in front of him.

“Art is subjective,” you replied with a shrug.

Renjun shook his head, biting into a fry. “Subjective or not, I think my two-year-old cousin could’ve done that with finger paints.”

You laughed, nearly choking on your drink. “Okay, now you’re just being mean. But honestly, same.”

After a pause, he leaned forward slightly. “Do you like art? Like genuinely?”

You nodded, pushing your tray aside. “Yeah. I mean, I’m not an expert or anything, but I like looking at it. It’s relaxing, and sometimes it makes you think about stuff in a different way.”

“I see. Art can make people feel feelings.”

“What about you?” you asked, tilting your head cutely. “Do you just doodle on your notebooks or do you, like, genuinely want to pursue it?”

“I like sketching, but I’m more into digital arts,” he admitted, his voice quieter. “Like I said, it’s more of a hobby. I don’t think I’m good enough to call myself an artist or anything.”

“You do digital arts?” you asked, leaning forward with genuine interest. “That’s so cool! I thought you just sketch on the margins because you want your hands to not stop moving.”

Renjun chuckled heartily, looking a little sheepish. “I do like art a lot. And yeah, maybe I doodle on my notes because I don’t know what to do with my hands sometimes.”

“Can I see them?” you said firmly, leaning closer.

He blinked, surprised. “What?”

“Your digital arts. Can I see them?” you asked and Renjun shrugged. “Only if you wanna show them, of course.”

“Maybe,” he said, a small smile tugging at his lips. “If I ever think they’re worth showing.”

The conversation shifted naturally from there. You learned that Renjun liked savory food more than sweets, that he loved sci-fi movies and old-school animation, and that his favorite season was summer because it was warmer.

In return, you told him about your favorite books and the time you’d tried to paint but ended up with more paint on yourself than the canvas.

Renjun’s laugh came easily, and you found yourself wanting to hear it more. “Sounds like you’d be a hit at one of those paint-and-sip nights.”

“Only if the wine is good,” you replied, grinning.

At one point, he pointed at your tray. “You’re not going to finish that?”

You glanced at the fries you’d left untouched. “No, I’m stuffed. Why? You want them?”

“Waste not, want not,” he said, sliding the tray toward himself.

“Do you even like cold fries?”

“Food is food,” he replied simply, popping one into his mouth.

It was such a small thing, but the casual ease of the moment made your heart warm. You wanted to believe this connection, this closeness, was something meaningful—something real.

But doubt crept in, uninvited and persistent. Was this really going anywhere? Renjun was affecting you more than you’d expected—your mood, your energy, even your plans. You were falling so fast, yet he hadn’t even shown you anything to suggest he was on the same page. Every small gesture, every laugh, every lingering glance—you found yourself dissecting them, overthinking, convincing yourself they meant something when they might not.

Would you be okay if the spark you felt wasn’t mutual?

When dinner was over, the two of you stepped outside, only to find it raining. The kind of rain that drenched you in seconds if you stepped out without an umbrella. You both stood under the awning of the restaurant, staring out into the drizzle. The air was cold, and small splashes of water reached your feet, soaking through your shoes.

Renjun stood beside you, close enough that you could feel the warmth radiating from him even in the chilly air. Despite the miserable weather, you didn’t feel annoyed. If anything, the rain seemed to add a certain weight to the moment—a quiet intimacy that made your heart ache in a good way.

You wondered what he was thinking. Was he just as hyper-aware of the proximity between you as you were? Did he feel the way your shoulders nearly brushed every time one of you shifted your weight?

“I didn’t check the forecast,” he murmured, his voice cutting through the rhythmic sound of raindrops hitting the ground. “Guess we’re stuck here for a while.”

You nodded, your hands buried in your pockets. “Yeah. Bummer.”

It was a half-hearted reply, and you hoped he didn’t notice how your voice trembled, not from the cold but from the nervous energy bubbling in your chest.

“What should we do now?” he asked after a moment, turning slightly to look at you.

You shrugged, not trusting yourself to say anything coherent. “No idea,” you mumbled, keeping your gaze firmly on the rain.

Then, without warning, you felt his hands on your shoulders. The touch was light but firm enough to make your heart leap. Before you could even process it, Renjun had pulled you closer, draping his jacket over both your heads.

“Alright,” he said, his tone suddenly full of determination. “We’re making a run for it.”

“What?!” You looked up at him, wide-eyed, half-hidden under the shared shelter of his jacket.

“It’s just rain,” he said with a grin that sent your stomach into a flurry of butterflies. “If we don’t do this, we’ll be stuck here all night.”

You hesitated for a split second, but his enthusiasm was contagious. “Fine,” you relented, unable to suppress a small laugh.

“That’s the spirit,” he said, his smile widening. “Ready?”

“Not really,” you admitted, but before you could overthink it, Renjun tightened his hold on you, and the two of you darted out into the rain.

The world seemed to blur as you ran, your laughter mingling with his as water splashed up around your feet. The jacket did little to shield you, and soon, droplets of rain were sliding down your cheeks and soaking through your clothes. But you didn’t care—not when Renjun was pulling you along, his own laugh ringing like music in your ears.

When you finally reached the bus shed, you stumbled to a halt, breathless and soaked but grinning from ear to ear. Renjun let out a relieved sigh, shaking his wet hair like a puppy, which only made you laugh harder.

“We made it!” he announced, his voice tinged with mock heroics.

“Barely,” you shot back, pushing your damp hair out of your face. “I didn’t know you were the type to do something like that. You’re insane.”

“Insane or genius?” he countered, raising an eyebrow as he leaned against the metal pole of the shed.

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t suppress your smile. The rain continued to pour, the sound of it hitting the roof above you creating a soothing rhythm. You both stood there, catching your breath, the moment stretching into something quiet and tender.

“Thank you for today,” Renjun looked at you, his expression softening. “I’m really glad we did this.”

The way he said it made your heart flutter, but before you could dwell on it too long, he added with a teasing grin, “Even if I had to brave the rain for it.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “Totally worth it, though.”

“Totally,” he agreed, his gaze lingering on you just a little too long.

For a moment, you thought he might say something else—or that you might—but the sound of car horns broke through your silence, and you both turned to watch the busy streets. The road in front of you was alive with motion—cars speeding past, their headlights streaking through the rain-soaked night. Most of the taxis that passed were already occupied, and when Renjun checked the bus schedule on his phone, he sighed. 

“Caught in traffic,” he said, showing you the GPS map with the slow-moving icon of your bus.

“I figured,” you replied, leaning against the metal pole of the waiting shed. But oddly enough, you didn’t mind. Despite being drenched and stranded, you were having fun.

“Well,” he said, giving the jacket a rueful look before glancing at you, “I’d offer you this, but it’s basically a sponge at this point.”

You shook your head, smiling. “It’s fine. We’re already wet. What difference would it make?”

He shrugged, tucking the useless jacket under his arm. “Fair enough.”

The two of you spent the next few minutes chatting about anything and everything—jokes about how your shoes squelched when you moved, your terrible luck with rain, and a particularly embarrassing story Renjun shared about slipping on wet pavement once.

Then your gaze wandered to the poster on the wall of the waiting shed. It was an advertisement for some soft drink, with bright colors and cheerful models smiling down at you. Or at least, they had been cheerful—someone had scribbled on their faces with marker, adding mustaches and angry eyebrows.

You tilted your head, amused. “What are your thoughts on this piece?” you asked, the same way you’d asked him about the artworks in the gallery earlier that day.

Renjun followed your gaze and chuckled. Then he put on a serious face, as if he was seriously thinking about it. “It’s tasteful, yes. Based on the lines, I think the artist made this on the spot. A spontaneous piece. Overall, it’s top-tier art.”

You tilted your head at the poster, humming in disagreement. “I think it’s mid-tier at most.”

“Think you could do better?” he challenged.

“I’m not much of an artist.”

“Well, how about this?” he said, pulling a pen out of his pocket with a mischievous grin.

You raised an eyebrow. “What’s that for?”

“To write,” he replied matter-of-factly.

“Vandalism?”

He shrugged, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “They’re probably gonna change those posters soon anyway. Might as well leave our mark.”

You grinned, loving the gleam of mischief in his eyes that was too tempting to resist. “Alright,” you said, taking the pen from his hand.

You leaned toward the poster, careful not to smudge it too much with your damp sleeve, and drew the best fox drawing you could make, unsuccessfully, but you were content with it. Then you wrote in large, messy letters: CUTE LITTLE FOX, INJUN.

“That’s a fox?” Renjun asked, surprised. You nodded with a grin. “Looks more like a wet squirrel.”

“That’s fine. Art is subjective,” you scoffed, handing him the pen. “Your turn.”

He shook his head, laughing. Beneath your writing, he drew a cartoon girl who resembled you, and added: YOU’RE MUCH CUTER THAN THE FOX ^_^

The two of you stepped back to admire your masterpiece, grinning like a couple of kids who’d just gotten away with a prank. “Think it’ll make someone’s day?” you asked.

“Either that or they’ll roll their eyes and wonder what middle schoolers did this,” Renjun replied, pocketing the pen.

When the bus finally pulled up, its headlights cutting through the rain, you both boarded, still laughing. As you climbed the steps, you turned back for a moment and snapped a quick picture of your vandalism.

Renjun noticed and leaned closer to take a look at your screen. “What’s that for?”

“Evidence,” you said with a smirk. “Just in case the poster police comes after us.”

He rolled his eyes but couldn’t hide his smile as the two of you found seats near the back of the bus, the sound of rain and the hum of the engine accompanying your ride home.

That weekend, while your friends were out doing their own thing, you were in your bedroom, grinning at your phone. You spent the morning scrolling through the pictures you took with Renjun the day before—zooming into his face and admiring the features you’d grown so fond of in the last few weeks. The picture you took of the graffiti was posted in your stories, and you kept checking who’d seen it, hoping one of them would be Renjun himself.

You wished there was an excuse to go out and meet him, but there wasn’t any. Even if there was a valid excuse, you probably wouldn’t act on it because you were worried about being too obvious. Besides, anything you say to invite him outside would only seem like an eager attempt to see him. So you opted to wait till the next time you can hang out with him.

“It’s still Saturday morning?” you grumbled upon seeing the date and time on your phone. “Has the weekend always been this slow?”

As soon as Monday rolled in, you went to your classes with a bounce in your step, listening intently to the lectures and hoping time passed faster. When it was all over, you skipped to the library knowing Renjun would already be there.

And so it continued. The library was your sanctuary as usual, but after a few more days of hunching over the same cramped desks and flickering fluorescents, you suggested a change of scenery. Renjun wasn’t keen on the idea at first, but you managed to convince him to see the appeal of the wide open space and the green grass of the quad just outside the library.

You would spread a small blanket on the grass, and sprawl there with your books or laptops. There were times when your friends would join you but when they did, you’d spend the time chatting instead of studying, so you limited their participation.

Other times, you opted for the cozy cafe outside the campus,  books spread across the table. That space was more intimate and somehow, private. You would read through notes and discuss theories over coffee and dessert. Sometimes, you’d just be talking about random things.

At a glance, it would seem like you spend every day with him without fail, but that wasn’t the case. You studied together once every two days, for only two to three hours max. But it was enough time to fall harder for Renjun. When you weren’t together, you’d be thinking of him. And when he was right before your eyes, your thoughts would still be filled with him. When you were out doing things you usually did with your friends, you wondered who he was hanging out with, or what he did when he wasn’t buried in books.

One day, Renjun suggested a detour after your study session. “There’s this little bookshop near campus,” he said. “It’s got a good vibe. You’ll like it.”

You followed him through winding streets until you reached a hole-in-the-wall shop with dusty windows and a bell that jingled as you entered. The air smelled like old paper and candles. Renjun drifted toward the art section, his fingers skimming the spines of books.

“Here,” he said, pulling one out and handing it to you. “This one’s good.”

You looked at the title, a collection of essays on creativity. A smile tugged at your lips as you were reminded of the time Renjun complimented a creative essay you once showed him. “Are you trying to inspire me?”

“Maybe,” he said with a shrug. “The piece you showed me last time was really good. You need to write more of those.”

You hummed, looking around the shop. Your eyes stopped at a shelf of vintage sketchbooks and canvasses. “Well, in that case, you should sketch more,” you told him, beaming as you led him toward said shelf so you could pick one.

Later, back at your apartment, you flipped through the book, pausing on a passage about capturing fleeting moments. You thought of Renjun—his laugh, the way his eyes crinkled when he smiled, the quiet intensity when he was focused on his work. Your chest tightened with both affection and frustration. Just how much longer could you go on without telling him how you felt?

As long as you could, it seemed. The days passed, and the feelings only grew stronger, but Renjun remained blissfully unaware. Sometimes you wondered if he truly didn’t know, or if he was just pretending not to. You’d catch little moments—a smile, a glance—but you dismissed them. Maybe it meant nothing. Maybe you were imagining it all.

You couldn’t bring yourself to make the first move. You were too shy, too scared of risking everything, too afraid that the warmth you thought you saw in his eyes was nothing more than your imagination. If you never confessed, you could never be rejected. And so, you kept quiet. It was easier this way. But even in the silence, you couldn’t stop wondering if he ever thought about you the same way.

And so it goes.

One day, you sprawled out on a blanket beneath the oak tree in the quad. Karina joined you, which was fine because she wasn’t as noisy as Giselle or Jaemin. Renjun was supposed to be studying, but he was sketching in his notebook instead, the soft scratch of pencil against paper the only sound you could hear from him.

You tried to focus on your notes, but your eyes kept drifting to him—how his brow furrowed in concentration, his lips pressed together in that adorable way that made your chest tighten. His focus was so intense, so effortless, and it made you wonder if he even knew how attractive it was.

“What are you drawing?” you asked, propping yourself up on your elbows.

“Just something,” Renjun replied, turning the sketchpad slightly toward you. “It’s not finished.”

“Oh, that’s cool,” you said, genuinely impressed by the details of his art. You glanced up at the oak tree, which was clearly the reference for his sketch. “How old do you think this tree is?”

Karina looked up from her tablet, following your gaze. “Probably a few decades old.”

“Seventy-three,” Renjun said, his eyes still on the tree. “They said it was planted by the founder of this school. It’s been here since.”

You smiled, looking back at the tree with new eyes. “Is that why it’s in such a weird spot on the school grounds? I always thought it looked out of place.”

“Hi, Jun!” she said, pulling your attention away. She was pretty, with an effortless kind of grace that immediately made you wonder who she was.

“Hi, Lia,” Renjun greeted back with a smile, and you couldn’t help but measure how much of a smile it was. Was it just friendly, or was there something more?

“Is that a sketchbook?” she asked, leaning down to peek over his shoulder.

“Uh, yeah,” Renjun said, closing it quickly, though not before she caught a glimpse of the pages.

“Wow,” she said, her smile widening. “You’re so talented. I didn’t know you could draw.”

Renjun laughed, scratching the back of his neck. “I can, though I’m not that good at it.”

You felt your jaw clench as she lingered, her gaze fixed on him. It wasn’t subtle—how she twirled her hair, leaned just a little too close, like she was trying to get his attention in the most obvious way. But Renjun seemed oblivious, like it was all just normal.

Beside you, Karina tugged at your sleeve. When you exchanged looks, you saw the same confusion in her eyes.

“Who’s that?” she mouthed, and you could only shrug, your stomach tightening with an unfamiliar knot.

After she left, you tried to play it cool, but Renjun noticed the shift in your mood. “Everything okay?” he asked, tilting his head in that endearing way.

“Yeah,” you said, forcing a smile that felt like a mask. “Why wouldn’t it be?”

It was hard to ignore the knot of frustration that settled in your stomach—jealousy, confusion, possessiveness. The way Lia had leaned in just a little too close, the way she smiled at him like she knew something you didn’t—it made your heart twist. You weren’t oblivious to it. She was clearly a competition. And you hated how much that thought stung.

But then, you reminded yourself: you were in no position to feel frustrated or jealous. You couldn’t expect him to cater to your feelings when you hadn’t done anything to express them. And even if he did know, he didn’t owe you anything. Just because you had feelings for him didn’t mean he was obligated to cater to whatever unspoken expectations you’d built in your head.

And so it goes. You stayed quiet, enjoying his company and hoping he’d one day confirm that he too had feelings for you. That all this time, he’d been keeping it to himself worried that it might ruin your friendship.

“Worried about your hair?” Renjun teased one day, while you were standing outside the cafe under the dull gray sky. It has started drizzling and you were wondering if you could make a run for it.

“No,” you shot back, laughing. “Are you worried about yours?”

“No, but just in case…” He reached into his bag and pulled out a bright yellow umbrella with cartoon characters. “I brought an umbrella.”

You stared at it, then at him. “Did you steal that from your little cousin or something?”

“It’s mine, actually,” he corrected nonchalantly. “I got it yesterday.”

“You’re walking around campus with that?” you snickered.

“Hey, Moomin is cool,” he said, unfazed. He popped the umbrella open. “And it’s functional.”

You giggled. “I’m just teasing you. I think it’s very cute.”

Renjun gave you a deadpan stare. “Ha-ha. Thanks,” he said sarcastically.

The two of you huddled under the umbrella, the sound of rain pattering against it. The closeness made your heart race, and you were hyper-aware of the way his shoulder brushed yours as you walked side by side. By the time you reached the library, your cheeks felt warm despite the chill of the rain.

Inside, you settled at a desk by the window. Renjun started sketching again, and you observed him quietly, wondering how much longer you could keep your feelings bottled up. You didn’t know how much longer you could stand being this close to him and not telling him everything.

You busied yourself with an assignment, racking your brain and going through your notes to come up with the best output. Anything to distract yourself from Renjun. And it worked for a while, until the appearance of a certain someone made it impossible to focus on anything at all.

“Renjun,” Lia said, appearing beside your desk with a hand on his shoulder. “Do you have a minute?”

“What’s up?” Renjun asked, setting his pencil down.

“There’s something I want to tell you.”

“Sure. What is it?”

Lia glanced at you with a glint of embarrassment in her eyes. “Can we talk there?”

“Alright.” Renjun nodded, rising to his feet. He gave you a small smile and a nod before following Lia.

You stayed at the table, your fingers fidgeting with the corner of your notebook. You tried to focus on the notes spread across the table, but your eyes kept darting toward the direction Renjun and Lia had gone. What could they possibly be talking about? A prickle of curiosity crept under your skin, impossible to ignore. The logical part of you insisted it was none of your business. But another part—a louder, restless part—was dying to know.

Your fingers tapped rhythmically against the notebook, and your knee was bouncing uncontrollably under the table. You glanced out at the rain, trying to convince yourself to stay put, to respect their privacy, but your thoughts were spinning out of control. What if she was confessing? What if he said yes?

You shook your head, banishing the thought. You didn’t even know what they were talking about. For all you knew, it could be about something entirely irrelevant to confessions and feelings. Still, your chest tightened at the idea of them sharing something you weren’t a part of. Once again, you tried to focus on your work, but your resolve crumbled with each passing second.

“Fuck this,” you muttered, and before you knew it, your legs were moving, carrying you toward the shelves where they had disappeared. Your heart thudded in your ears as you peeked around the corner. There they were, standing by the window, their voices low.

“I hope this doesn’t make things awkward between us,” Renjun said, his tone warm. “You’re an amazing friend, and I’d hate to lose that.”

“No, not at all,” Lia assured him. “I actually just wanted to get that off my chest. Thanks for being honest.”

You covered your mouth, stopping the gasp that almost escaped your lips. You were right after all. Lia was confessing her feelings for Renjun!

They continued chatting briefly, their tones light and unstrained. You couldn’t hear everything they said, but it was clear there was no animosity. Lia seemed to take it well, laughing softly at something Renjun said before they started walking back.

Panicking, you quickly ducked behind another shelf, snatching a random book. When they passed by, you waited a few more moments before returning to the table. You then sat down across from Renjun, and when he noticed you, he gave you that easy smile that always made your chest flutter.

“Where were you?” he asked, one hand flipping a page in his sketchpad.

“I just grabbed something from there,” you lied, showing him the book you took from the shelf. “Are you done talking?”

“Yeah, we’re good.”

Nice, you thought to yourself, smiling. I think I’m good too.

By the time the rain had stopped, you were done with your assignment and Renjun had packed his sketchpad away. These days, he had been drawing a lot, and it made you giddy each time you saw him take out the vintage sketchbook you got for him. Sometimes, you liked to think he was properly practicing his art because of you, but that was just something you told yourself. He didn’t really say or do anything to back it up.

As you glanced out the window, sunlight began to peek through the rain clouds, and you gestured toward it. “Looks like the weather is getting better. Should we head out?”

“Sure,” Renjun said, tucking his pencil into his bag. “We’ve been here long enough.”

The two of you walked side by side, the damp air cool against your skin. Renjun tugged on the sling of his bag, his gaze distant, as though he had something on his mind. You didn’t press him, though you were wondering what was bothering him. It was unusual to see him so conflicted—Renjun, who was always so calm and composed.

You let the silence stretch, looking around the campus grounds. There was nothing you could think of saying, and it didn’t seem like Renjun was in the headspace to talk about anything either. But then he let out a deep sigh, making you glance at him.

“What’s wrong?” you asked, peeking at his face.

“Nothing, just…” he trailed off, his voice low with a hint of uncertainty. “Have you ever had a friend confess their feelings for you?”

You blinked, caught off guard. “Uh, maybe? I mean, I think most of the people who confessed to me were my friends at first.”

In your mind, you were wondering if he was asking because of his conversation with Lia earlier.

His lips quirked in a faint smile, though his eyes stayed distant. “Yeah, I figured. It’s just... earlier, Lia said she liked me. Romantically.”

You knew that already. “Okay. What happened?”

“Apparently, she felt that we had a really good connection. She enjoyed hanging out with me and started liking me because I was nice and all that.”

You hummed, urging him to continue.

“It got me thinking, I should probably draw lines with friendship. As flattering as it was to be ‘liked’, I don’t really want to keep unintentionally leading people on,” he continued, tugging your jacket sleeves gently to veer you away from a puddle.

“That’s fine. You can do that,” you told him, your eyes lingering on his hand on your jacket. “But it’s not your fault if people get the wrong idea. There’s nothing wrong with you or your personality. That’s just how you are as a person.”

“You think so?”

You glanced up at him. “Yeah. But I do understand Lia though. It happens to some. Sometimes people catch feelings, even if they know they shouldn’t,” you chuckled, hoping Renjun wouldn’t notice you were literally talking about yourself.

“I don’t know,” he sighed, shrugging. “I wasn’t trying to make her like me like that. I’ve spent way more time with you than with her, but you don’t feel that way for me.”

You froze mid-step, your breath catching in your throat as a jolt of panic engulfed you. Your chest was tightening as if all the air was being sucked out of you. Renjun kept walking ahead, oblivious, until he realized you weren’t beside him

“What are you doing?” he asked and you couldn’t answer him, so you bit your lip nervously.

What should you do? Should you let his assumption slide? Or should you finally be honest and tell him what’s been bugging you all this time? What if you said something you couldn’t take back?

“Is something wrong?” he asked again, reaching for your shoulder.

“I-I…” you stammered, locking eyes with him. His gaze was steady, but your thoughts were a mess. You swallowed hard. “You’re wrong. I do feel that way.”

It was his turn to be stunned. His brows furrowed slightly, and his hand on your shoulder loosened as he looked at you with an unreadable expression. 

“Actually, I have felt that way before we even became friends,” you continued. Your chest tightened further, but there was no turning back now. “It was just a crush at first, but I got to know you and I just fell harder. I have feelings for you, Renjun and I don’t know what to do with it. I just know I had to tell you about it.”

Renjun still didn’t say anything, flustered and confused by your sudden confession. In your mind, you were screaming, hoping you could fast forward and skip this part because it was making you cringe with embarrassment. But you couldn’t back out—not now that you’d spilled everything out.

The two of you continued to stare at each other, seemingly communicating with your eyes but not coming to an understanding. Your mind raced with questions and possibilities, all pointing at Renjun and begging for him to finally say something. Every brain cell in your head was rioting, a chaos that was the complete opposite of the weighted silence stretching between you and Renjun.

And when his hand  slowly slipped away from your shoulder, you held your breath again, bracing yourself for what was about to come.

“I’m so sorry.”

Your heart sank to your stomach, and you released the breath you were holding. Those three words—though short and straightforward—were enough to sum up everything Renjun was about to say. You already knew what it meant, and despite the heavy weight settling on your chest at his words, you somehow hoped he’d surprise you with a plot twist.

“I swear I didn’t have any bad intentions,” he said, his voice quieter now. “I really just wanted to be friends with you. I didn’t realize…” He trailed off, letting out a heavy sigh.

You nodded, even though the words stung. He didn’t need to finish for you to understand. “It’s alright. I understand.”

He sighed your name out, shoulders sagging as if he couldn’t believe what was happening. You smiled, despite the turmoil in your head. It was hard to explain the mess of emotions swirling inside you—hurt, embarrassment, frustration—but you forced it down. You could handle this. You could take it like an adult.

“Renjun, it’s fineee,” you said, your voice a little lighter than you felt. You laughed softly, almost as if to convince yourself. “I said I wanted to tell you about it. I wasn’t asking you to reciprocate or anything.”

He still looked uncertain, his brows furrowed with that familiar concern you could never shake. But you didn’t want to drag this out any longer, didn’t want to let him see how much his words had hit you. It wasn’t his fault.

“Don’t worry about it, okay?” you added, giving him a small wave as if to dismiss the whole conversation. “We’re still friends. Nothing’s changed.”

Renjun hesitated for a moment, still looking at you like he wasn’t sure how to handle your response. You could tell he wasn’t completely convinced, and that made you want to reassure him more.

“Really,” you said with a shrug, “I’m fine. Let’s just go. I’m starving. I need to get home and make some food, otherwise I’d be eating takeout again for dinner.”

You both continued down the path, the sound of your footsteps against the wet pavement the only noise between you. Renjun didn’t say anything more, but you could feel his gaze on you, lingering with that worried expression. He was probably still processing everything. You could almost hear him overthinking it in his head, trying to figure out if he had somehow hurt you.

But for now, you were just grateful to keep moving. You had your pride, and you had your space. And for a moment, despite the mess of it all, you felt a small wave of relief.

You said you’d be fine, that nothing would change between you and Renjun. But as the last few days of the semester rolled around, you found yourself doing what any mature, emotionally stable woman would do—avoid him like the plague. You had a perfectly reasonable excuse—last-minute assignments and projects that seemed to always appear every end of semester. You were both swamped with coursework, so really, it wasn’t avoidance; it was just conveniently timed busyness. At least, that’s what you told yourself.

You also told yourself it was just temporary. You’d heal, bounce back, and return to being the friend who could sit across from Renjun without your stomach twisting into knots. After all, you were still friends. Nothing had changed, right?

Wrong. In the quiet moments, when there was nothing to distract you from your thoughts, the truth would play itself on a loop: it had changed. The ache that would creep in your chest was sharp and annoyingly persistent like a bad pop song stuck on repeat. No matter how hard you tried to bury it under denial, it kept rising to the surface, demanding to be felt.

When Renjun texted you, your responses were cheerful, using the same emojis and the same upbeat tone to mask the fact that your heart was broken. You couldn’t tell if he bought it, but since his replies sounded as casual as ever, you figured your performance deserved an Oscar. Or at least a participation trophy for effort.

Your roommates, Karina and Giselle, noticed it. They could tell something was off. You had always been the one who kept things light and bright, the one who filled the room with laughter and jokes. But now, they could see the small cracks. They could hear the silence that replaced your usual chatter, the way you kept to yourself more often. Even your jokes had gone from playful to suspiciously self-deprecating. 

“Girl, you don't look okay. Like, at all!” Giselle had told you once.

“This is fine,” you’d said with a lopsided grin. “I’m just living my sad rom-com arc. All I need now is a montage of me crying in the rain, but the weather isn’t cooperating.”

It was even more obvious to Jaemin, who, instead of teasing you or trying to get under your skin, seemed to have adopted a strategy of quiet support. He didn’t press you to talk, didn’t try to fix things, and—bless him—didn’t say, “I told you so”. You appreciated the space, but you also hated the awkwardness that had replaced his usual antics. You didn’t like it when he walked on eggshells around you, and it only made you feel worse.

“You know you can talk to us, right?” Karina offered again one night, her voice full of concern. “You don’t have to keep it all in.”

“Thanks, but really, I’m fine,” you said, waving her off with a half-hearted laugh. “This is character development. Pain builds personality, or something like that.”

Giselle handed you a tub of ice cream. “Here, have a snack while your character is developing.”

No amount of jokes or distractions could fully numb your heartache. You kept telling yourself you’d get through it, that it would pass, but every time you were alone with your thoughts, the weight settled back onto your chest. You weren’t sure how long you could keep pretending to be okay, but for now, the show had to go on.

Then, by the time spring break was around the corner, the heaviness in your chest had started to lift. It wasn’t gone entirely but it wasn’t as sharp as it had been two weeks ago. You were finding your way back to yourself already. Giselle even pointed it out one evening while you were packing for the trip home.

“Hey, look at you, humming again,” she teased, flopping onto your bed. “I was starting to think Renjun broke you for good.”

You rolled your eyes but smiled at her. “Oh please. He wasn’t even a fling. Being rejected by a crush wouldn’t break me,” you said, folding another shirt into your bag. “Besides, it’s my first spring break. I can’t walk out of this campus brokenhearted.”

“Aha, I see you’ve found your lost vigor for real fun.” Giselle gave you an approving nod, like a coach satisfied with her team’s performance. “Progress. I’ll take it.”

The next day, as you walked across campus for one last errand before heading home, you spotted Renjun. He was walking toward the library, balancing a stack of books in one hand and holding his bag in the other. You hesitated for a moment, instinctively considering walking in the opposite direction, but the impulse passed as quickly as it came.

You reminded yourself you were okay now—or at least getting there. Avoiding him would only keep you stuck, and besides, the two of you were still friends. Nothing had changed. Right?

“Hey,” you called out, jogging up to him.

Renjun turned at the sound of your voice, a small smile forming when he saw you. “Oh, hey! I thought you left already.”

“Not yet. I’m heading out later today,” you said, nodding at the books in his hand. “Still cramming in some last-minute reading?”

“No, I’m returning these,” he said with a chuckle. “What about you? Got big plans for spring break?”

You grinned. “Are you kidding me? Of course, it’s our first one as college students. You?”

He shrugged, trying to keep his tone light. “Just going home. Last night, my mom sent me a whole list of chores waiting for me when I get back.”

You laughed, and for a moment, it felt easy between you two again, like the past few weeks hadn’t happened.

“Are you okay?” he asked suddenly, his tone softening. “Sorry. I’ve been meaning to ask, but I thought it would be wrong to bring it up when we’re not face-to-face.”

You blinked, caught off guard by his question. For a moment, you thought about brushing it off, but you realized you didn’t need to. Not anymore. “I wasn’t,” you admitted with a small smile. “But only for a bit. I’m okay now. Really.”

Renjun studied your face, his expression unreadable, before he nodded. “Good. I’m glad.”

A comfortable silence settled between you, and for once, it wasn’t suffocating. It didn’t feel like something was left unsaid or hanging in the air.

“Well,” he said, shifting his bag on his shoulder, “I should get going. Have fun doing… whatever it is you do during spring break.”

You rolled your eyes but grinned. “You have fun with your chores too.”

“I don’t know if I will, but I’ll make sure to try,” he replied, chuckling. “Text me if you need anything though, okay? Or if you're bored, I don't know. Just... Feel free to talk to me whenever you want."

“I will,” you promised, waving as you walked away.

As you made your way across campus, you fished your phone out of your pocket, remembering that Karina once told you about a confessions page on X. It was called NCIT Campus Confessions, and after skimming through the posts, you typed in a submission of your own:

To HRJ, Maybe I will finally learn my lesson. -xx

You felt lighter. Maybe not entirely free from the disappointment, but enough to know that you’d be okay. After all, it wouldn’t do to carry heartache with you to a place as vibrant and alive as Aruba.

[To be continued in Wonderland]

[jujus-bizarre-blog]

SOC and CK allegories for the queer characters (and other thoughts)

I was going to make a separate blog to yell about books but I decided to do it here.

I AM NOT DONE CROOKED KINGDOM AT THE TIME OF WRITING THIS SO EVERYTHING I SAY IS HAVING ONLY READ HALF THE BOOK SO FAR.

The Grishaverse doesn't seem to have any form of homophobia, but SOC and CK are chalk fulllllllll of what I can only see as plots that mimic queer experiences for the queer characters in the main group.

We have four queer characters (that I know of at the moment): Jesper, Wylan, Nina, Kuwei.

So let's start with the obvious, three of the four are Grisha. Obviously not all Grisha are queer, but all the Grisha in the party are. This gives them an automatic plotline of "hide who you are".

It could be said that since Nina is Ravkan she wasn't raised that way, and no, she wasn't. However since leaving Ravka she has been forced to hide for her safety, and not only that but she is frequently told she's "too much" which sounds a lot to me like what some people say about queer people when they think queer people should be less queer. Also Matthias is all about being "traditional" and "proper" and Nina's whole thing is that she is neither. Traditional and proper sound a lottttt like some people's arguments to be homophobic.

Jesper's I think is rather obvious. His father has a clear concern for his son being Grisha since it can put your life at risk. In Jesper's argument with his dad he goes off and asks his dad why did he never let him go to Ravka where he could be himself and learn about himself and his powers. Oh not to mention the fact that him and his dad talk around him being Grisha like it's some sort of virus that can be caught by simply speaking the word.

Kuwei's took a second to hit me but when it did I was like "ah yep, makes sense" and this is probably because it took me a hot second to realize Kuwei was queer. Yeah, apparently him being jealous that Jesper only looked at Wylan a certain way didn't tip me off... ANYWAY THOUGH. Kuwei is also told to hide who he is, but his dad goes the extra length of literally making a drug to help him hide himself. Is it giving anyone else Dorian's dad from Dragon Age vibes??? Blood magic for the gay son???

FINALLY, I will talk about my baby, the character I love more than anything else. Wylan. Here's the thing about Wylan, while I was reading SOC I wasn't sure if homophobia existed in this world yet and I was half convinced that his dad disowned him because gay. While his dad obviously didn't do that, I still think at the end of the day it portrays an experience that is very similar. Wylan is shamed, hidden, and ultimately his dad tries to have him killed, all because he can't read. His dad loathes him over such a stupid reason, especially since Wylan is absolutely brilliant at tons of stuff and the cutest lil guy. But I think it's that hatred of his son over something so trivial that really lends itself to being about something else entirely, Wylan being queer.

All four of our queer characters in the main group have different plots, but ultimately they all circle around the idea of hiding who you are and being ashamed of who you are. That sounds like a very common queer experience if you ask me.

I don't know if this was intentional or just a huge coincidence. As a writer myself I am all too aware of how easily accidental metaphors and symbols can happen. But I think about it a lot as I'm reading so I wanted to shout about it either way. I also have no clue if this is a common idea or not, I just know when I pointed it out to my friends who had read the books prior, one of who loves and reads them yearly, they both kinda went "oh damn, you right," but didn't see it before I mentioned it.

Anyway, if I missed things (or you wanna yell at me about how wrong I am, which is usually the more likely option) I'd love to know thoughts :)

AND BONUS THOUGHTS

This one is super obvious but I just wanna say it. Jesper is ADHD and no one will change my mind in the history of ever. This man cannot sit still, has been described as having limitless energy, and he seeks constant immediate gratification in the form of gambling and adrenalin rushes. COME ON MAN. I know I know, there's a lore reason, something something Grisha not using magic blah blah. No. No. He is ADHD and you cannot tell me otherwise. And I love him dearly.

Also, not a theory or anything but, y'all, I love Wylan so much. I just wanna give him a hug and a lollipop and tell him it's okay. He's so cute.

[wishesofeternity]

The thing about HotD is that it while it absolutely minimizes the agency and ambition of both Rhaenyra and Alicent, this is specifically used to glorify Rhaenyra and frame her as righteous while condemning Alicent and framing her lacking. That's the key difference in both their textual portrayals that has directly led to 90% of the fandom hailing Rhaenyra as the second coming of Christ while spewing the most hateful vitriol at Alicent just for existing. But y'all are not prepared for that conversation.

[austin-friars]

It just occurred to me that we've not had an in depth portrayal of Henry VIII and Jane Seymour since the Tudors. Or just, Jane Seymour in general. So I am really curious to see how Mirror and the Light/Wolf Hall is going to handle them.

We get to know about her family, we'll learn about Elizabeth Seymour as well, and how important she is.

[dyketennant]

oh i can already tell i’m about to have some really unpopular opinions about the edge of sleep tv show

[oceanwithinsblog]

this week's episode was freaking GOOD but i am now more confused than ever about who the actual killer(s) may be ...

x: "may i ask you who do you think the culprit is?"

my honest reaction: