#and somehow ended up at my first apartment

[lovemomhatepolice]

Hey babessss could you do a drew starkey x reader’s first time together… smut? Love yo<3

31’ - drew starkey

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pairing: drew starkey x fem!reader

warnings: first time sex, sexual overtones, age difference (Drew is 31, reader is 21), established relationship, oral sex, unprotected sex (PROTECTED YOURSELF), drunk!drew, drunk!reader, blowjob, a tiny bit of fingering, English is my second language!

belonging: NO NUT NOVEMBER!

type: totally smut with plot, a little bit of fluff (because drew is a cutie pattotie)

word count: 5k

summary: happy birthday beautiful man. there can't be a better gift, right?

more content: drew starkey masterlist, obx masterlist

You nervously adjusted the shoulder strap of your black dress, once again that evening. At the tenth you stopped counting. You were terribly annoyed by its material, its length, well today just everything stressed you out. You didn't know why yourself, and you were angry with yourself, because you were supposed to act as unsuspecting as you could - and it didn't work out.

"Drew, are you ready?" you finally asked, exiting the bathroom after spending a long time in it.

Today was his 31st birthday, which was no small feat. After 30, life starts to get more serious, even for someone like Drew.

Drew heard you open the door and from his seat in the living room he could see you coming out of the bathroom. He swallowed hard as he looked at you - you were as incredibly beautiful as you are every day. But there was something about you today - the way you walked, the way you smiled at him, the way you wore that dress - he couldn't take his eyes off you. In fact, for a few seconds he stopped functioning at all.

“Yes, I'm ready,” he finally said, getting up from the couch.

"Great," You smiled at him and picked up your purse, which was lying on a cabinet in his hallway.

You didn't live together, it was still too serious a step in a relationship you had only been in for less than two months. Despite the fact that you had known each other practically all your lives, by the fact that both of you lived near each other and you were friends with his sister Brooke, your relationship progressed very slowly and you were both probably happy about it. Finally, in such a fast-paced world, you could at least relax for a while and enjoy each other longer.

He walked over to you and grabbed your hand, interlocking his fingers with yours. You were so perfectly fitting in his hand - and he would never get enough of that sensation. A part of him also just liked the way it looked; how he would tower over you and your small hand would disappear in his bigger one.

“Ready to go?” he then asked again, bringing your hand to his lips to kiss it.

"I should be the one to ask you that," you laughed lightly, blushing from the tenderness. Drew was always like that. He always took care of everyone, tried to make no one feel bad. And for that you loved him.

"My birthday boy."

Drew pulled you closer to him and threw his free arm around your shoulders. He began to lead you toward the front door. “Are you sure you're not the birthday girl?”

He let go of your hand so he could open the door, and then opened it for you, holding the other at your back. He teased you. “You're just as excited as I am, or even more so.”

"Oh, because in the end I'm the one who can take you out to dinner and pay for everything," you said, sticking your tongue out in his direction as he closed his apartment.

Drew was already like that - he never let you pay for any of your dates or food. And even when you had to split it in half (which he didn't agree to very readily), he continued to try to wring it out somehow.

He laughed lightly as you headed to the elevator together. He pressed the button and turned to face you, his back leaning against the elevator wall. He lightly combed his hair with his hand, on which his inseparable ring.

“We've been over this before,” he said, still looking at you with a goofy grin. “I won't let you pay anything on my birthday. And in fact, I'd best not let you pay for anything. And ever,” he snarked.

"And that you can not allow, and I'll do it anyway," you laughed and took the lip gloss out of your purse. You turned toward the elevator mirror and started applying it back.

He smiled, looking at you. The man pulled away from the elevator wall and walked closer to you. He then grabbed your hips from behind and pulled you close, gently trailing his thumbs along your sides. Because of the large height difference, he bent down slightly, resting his chin on your shoulder.

“Stop being so stubborn,” he teased in a light tone, placing a light kiss on your head.

"You're the one who should stop being so stubborn," you muttered, putting the lipstick back in your purse.

You turned toward him and put your hands on his white shirt, gently correcting it. "It's your birthday and I want you to just let yourself be pampered."

He chuckled, his arms then moving around your waist while he looked at you.

“You’re the one that deserves to be pampered,” he said honestly and leaned his forehead against yours for a moment, placing a light kiss on it.

"You too. Big grown man" you laughed playing with the button of his shirt.

Drew looked unearthly today. Every day he looked like he was created by angels, but today? Today he outdid himself. White shirt, black pants and matching jacket. Plus his hair, which was now a little longer... he looked like a god. „You’re thirty one today, that's no even a joke anymore.”

He also giggled when he listened to you. He loved the feeling of your hands playing with the button of his shirt. It was such a random and small thing, but it was still soothing. He enjoyed those little moments between you. When it was just you and the whole world was suddenly silent.

“Don't remind me,” he said with a small giggle, and a smile appeared on his lips as he watched you. “I feel old.”

"But you have ten years younger girl, it makes you younger," you laughed and grabbed his hands, which he had on your waist.

He giggled, well aware of this. Well, your age difference was something too big and unusual for many. But he didn't care, it was nobody's business. It was only yours, and you felt the best you could.

“Somehow it worked out that way, huh?” he asked with a smile and moved one of his hands to grab your chin, letting his thumb gently brush your lower lip.

"Oh don't touch or you'll smear my lip gloss" I laughed, feeling his thumb on my lip.

He chuckled again and shook his head, but his eyes were locked on your lips. The way they just begged him to lean in and kiss them.

“It’s not like I haven’t smeared it before,” he said in a teasing tone while he continued to caress your bottom lip with his thumb.

"That's why I had to correct it,"you laughed, looking into his beautiful blue irises, which were now, as always, laughing.

"Don't exaggerate," he laughed and leaned slightly over you, smacking your lips.

You smiled into his mouth, returning the kiss lightly. Now his lips were also shining from your pink gloss, but before you could tell him, the elevator doors opened on the right floor.

You took his hand and intertwined your fingers together, walking out of the elevator in front of him. You headed toward the exit of the building, getting more and more excited about the party you had organized. Drew trusted you and let you lead the way, but as soon as you spotted your present driver parked in front of Drev's apartment building, you stopped for a moment.

"Wait, i have to blindfold you" you said and took out a blindfold from your purse so he couldn't see anything.

In the end, Drew thought the two of you were going to dinner. But in fact you were taking him to his favorite club in Charleston, where all his family and friends were waiting for him.

"And how am I supposed to go the car without seeing anything?” he asked with a smirk.

„I’ll help you dumbass”

He laughed as he listened to you and allowed you to put the blindfold on him.

“I hope you don’t leave me stranded somewhere,” he said with teasing tone, poking your ribs.

You bent under his finger as he stabbed you in the ribs and laughed. “Oh this is just my dream. To leave you here alone blindfolded.” you muttered and took out some more headphones from the purse. “You can't hear either, forgive me darling,” you added and put the headphones over his ears, kissing him lightly on the lips.

“I've lost all my senses because of you,” he muttered, letting himself be led toward the car. “I knew it a long time ago, but to do it in a literal way. Wow. I didn't expect that.” You snorted with laughter and slowly opened the car door for him, being careful not to hit him, because compared to a low car, Drew was a giant and could quickly get a bump.

You got in after him and greeted your driver, who already knew the address well, so he only smiled in your direction. After a while, you set off for your chosen location, which was not that far away, but you had to drive a bit. And you knew very well that if you both had a drink with Drew, you would neither return as a driver nor on your feet.

Drew instinctively caught your hand and intertwined your fingers, playing with your nails, which you had freshly done. You smiled under your breath and laid your head on his shoulder.

~~~ You have already entered the club without much obstruction, however, further without taking off either the armband or the headphones. You led him out into the middle, letting his friends and family surround him, until you finally gave them a sign that they could shout surprise, when at the same time you took off his headband and headphones at the same time. “Surprise!” you exclaimed along with the others, looking from the sidelines at his reaction.

Drew stood for a moment, as if enchanted. Then he began to look around him, and when he saw all his loved ones, it made his heart warm. Each of them on this one day decided to come and make the man's birthday even better.

You smiled sincerely in his direction, continuing to be surprised that it all worked out the way you wanted. Everyone was there - the entire OBX cast, Odesa, his hometown friends and immediate family. “Surprise?” you asked, laughing lightly at your boyfriend.

Drew tried to say something, but continued to be too surprised. “I-wow…” he laughed under his breath, walking a little closer to you. “Really, thank you.”

His smile continued to grow as he took in the sight of so many familiar faces around him.

“The best things for the best boyfriend,” you muttered, throwing your arms around his neck and pulling him slightly closer to you, smacking your lips. You must have distracted him a bit before his mother managed to blow out the candles on the cake she had prepared.

He laughed again as he wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you close. He placed a gentle kiss on your cheek, then turned to look at his mother, who was now standing in front of him with a birthday cake.

“How the hell did you manage to keep this a secret from me?” - he said, and everyone laughed.

“I guess we never know,” you said and wanted to move away from him so he could stand by the cake himself, but he cut you off.

But before you had a chance to take more than a step away from him he grabbed your wrist, preventing you from moving away.

“I want you here,” he muttered in a low tone only you could hear.

His mother set the cake down in front of him, and everyone started singing “Happy Birthday.” Drew’s eyes sparkled with happiness, and you couldn’t help but admire how his face lit up in the glow of the candles.

When the song ended, he took a deep breath and blew out the candles, laughter and cheers erupting from the crowd. You clapped along, feeling proud of your surprise.

“Alright, let’s cut this cake!” Drew said, reaching for the knife. He looked around at everyone, then back at you, his smile softer now. “I can’t believe you all did this for me. This means so much.”

You squeezed his hand, feeling a swell of emotion. “You deserve it, Drew. You’re amazing.”

As the cake was served, you took a moment to glance around the room. Friends were laughing, drinks were flowing, and the energy was electric. This was what you had hoped for—a celebration of Drew, surrounded by the people who loved him most.

Once everyone had their slices, Drew turned to you, a slice of cake in hand. “Here, let me feed you.”

You giggled, opening your mouth playfully as he brought the fork to your lips. The sweet flavor burst in your mouth.

The two of you sat somewhere in a corner, eating a cake together. Around you sat some of his friends and family, the rest were either getting ready to wish him well and give him a gift, another part was already standing at the bar, starting the celebration.

“Give me your jacket, I'll go put them away in the locker room, and you take care of the guests here.” you said to him, finishing your piece of cake.

"Don't be long," he muttered and gave you a small kiss on the forehead.

“I promise,” you muttered and went to the locker room, putting your jackets away together. In the meantime, his sister Mackalaya accosted you, giving you a tight squeeze. You had known her all my life, too, so it was great to see her again.

"How are you? How are you guys doing?"

Meanwhile, Drew continued to chat and talk to his friends sitting around him, but his eyes were continuously drawn to the direction where you had left moments ago.

“It really couldn't be better,” you smiled sincerely at her. “Drew is so wonderful, we are so damn happy.”

She chuckled happily at your answer, nodding her head with a smile.

"It's lovely to hear, you are just perfect for each other," Mackalaya said and glanced in her brother's direction for a second, seeing how he kept looking toward the locker room, waiting for you to return.

“We may come to you soon, after Drew finishes recording,” I said, squeezing her hand. “I can't wait to see Liliana.”

You saw Drew stand from the table and head to the bar with the others. You laughed under your breath as your gazes met together again and Mackalaya no longer held you.

“Looks like the party is really getting started now! Should we join them?”

She then looked back at you and nodded her head with a smirk.

“I think it’s our cue to join them,” she said, then grabbed your arm and led the way toward the bar counter.

As you approached, you could hear snippets of Drew’s conversation, his laughter ringing out like music. He caught your eye again, and that familiar warmth spread through you. He gestured for you to come closer, his smile broadening.

He moved forward slightly, stretching his arm and grabbing you by the hip, pulling you against him until you were standing between his legs.

“What did you order?” you asked, glancing at the bartender, who was preparing various drinks and grabbed the menu in your hand and looked for something for yourself.

Drew leaned in closer, his breath warm against your ear. “I ordered a round of mojitos. They’re the best here,” he said, a playful glint in his eye. You could feel the excitement buzzing around you, the energy of the party enveloping both of you.

“Then I'll take the same too,” you muttered and handed it to the bartender, who added another mojito to his queue.

Drew rested his chin on your shoulder and let out a low chuckle as you felt him inhale the scent of your hair.

“How do you feel?” you asked, looking over his shoulder.

"Happy," he managed to utter before he nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck, his nose brushing against your skin. "I just want to enjoy the moment. Care to join me?”

The way he looked at you made your heart race, and you couldn’t help but smile. “I’m in. Let’s make it a night to remember.”

The whole evening passed in a wonderful atmosphere. Everyone danced, drank drinks, talked to a lot of people and you all just enjoyed being with Drew on his birthday. The man also seemed to be in awe. He had a smile on his lips the whole time and didn't leave your side for a moment. Whether you were dancing or he was getting a gift from his friends, you always had to be next to him. And you didn't mind at all.

As the night progressed, the air filled with excitement. You found yourself lost in the rhythm of the party, the way he pulled you closer during a slow song, his hands resting on your waist, made your heart flutter.

“Best birthday ever,” he said, his eyes sparkling when he looked at you. Drew started getting slightly more and more clingy with you.

“Can’t help it,” he murmured, a playful smile on his lips as he leaned in.

He pressed soft, lingering kisses along your neck, sending delightful shivers down your spine. Each gentle touch felt electrifying, and you couldn’t suppress the smile spreading across your face.

Drew tightened his grip, making it clear he wasn’t going to let you go anytime soon. As the music pulsed around you and laughter filled the air, you knew this was a night you both would remember—one full of warmth, connection, and perhaps a bit of sweet spontaneity.

You turned toward him and didn't have to wait long for the boy to attach his lips to yours. He didn't give a damn that all his immediate family and friends were around. He knew very well that he was in a trusted circle and no one would judge him or put anything on the Internet. He felt safe here, and with you in his arms, it was even better.

Drew pulled back slightly, his forehead resting against yours. “I’ve been wanting to do that all night,” he admitted, a playful grin on his lips. There was a light in his eyes that made your heart skip a beat.

Your kiss became more and more intense, but no one paid much attention to you. And even if they did - they didn't expect how great the feeling was growing in both of you. Suddenly you felt his hands on your buttocks as they gently clamped down on them, and you laughed, moving your lips slightly away from his to look into his eyes. This time there was something more intense in his gaze than usual. You knew that you both felt the same way.

His breath was slightly labored from the kiss, and his grip on your buttocks became firmer as he pulled you even closer so that you were practically flush against his body.

There was a hint of hunger in his gaze, a need for more than just a kiss.

“I want to go home,” he murmured into your mouth, smacking it again. “They won't even notice.”

“Are you sure?” you asked, a smile tugging at your lips. “What about all the fun?”

Drew grinned, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “I just want us to end this evening.”

The way he looked at you, filled with that intensity you both had shared all night, made your heart race. “Alright, let’s do it,” you said, a thrill of anticipation bubbling inside you.

You did not wait any longer, you both knew very well how the evening would end. You left the club unnoticed, leaving all your gifts behind. The club was closed tomorrow anyway, so you could easily return for them. You waited a while for your boyfriend, who struggled for a while to find your coats, but fortunately it didn't take long. Drew grabbed your hand and you went outside, immediately seeing your driver.

“I can’t wait to get you home,” he whispered, making your pulse quicken. You exchanged a look filled with promise, knowing that this night was just beginning.

~~~ When you arrived at his apartment, you couldn't keep your hands off each other. Drew had barely closed the door behind him, and he already had you in his arms and was leading you toward his bedroom, showering you with kisses all over your face. You were both laughing, which was typical of you, even at a time like this.

Drew gently laid you down on his bed, letting you take another moment to think about whether you really wanted this. Oh, how much you wanted it, and you knew very well that he did too. This was a big step in your relationship, but you knew you were safe in his hands and merely nodded, reaching up to his shirt collar to pull him close, bringing your lips together again in a kiss.

Your hands wandered in his hair, his all over your body. It wasn't long until you felt yourself starting to get wet from the rush of these emotions. You didn't shy away one bit anymore - you were well aware that your first time would be after alcohol, but you didn't doubt one bit that you wanted it. And so did Drew, whose eyes sparkled more beautifully than ever.

Drew’s touch was skilled and urgent, his hands roaming across your body as he drank in your every move. You could see the desire burning in his eyes, as he gently pushed you back down on the bed, his gaze never leaving yours.

"Fuck" he muttered, breathing heavy. "You're so beautiful"

You sighed, pulling him closer to you with your hips. You could feel that he was also already aroused. His still clothed cock fit perfectly against your body. You both silently cried out for the desired pleasure to come already.

He leaned down slightly, his lips trailing over your neck, his mouth hot and wet against your skin. He left a trail of kisses along your throat, his breath coming out in a warm plume against your skin.

"You feel so good," he said, his voice thick with growing need.

“Drew,” you muttered, moving your hips, feeling how hard he was getting with each passing second. You pulled away from him slightly and nimbly made him bottom out this time. You didn't wait a second longer. With trembling hands, you grabbed his belt buckle and tried to get him off. “Oh, someone is impatient,” the man laughed huskingly, helping you get rid of his belt.

Then his pants flew down and you could see his entire member, which was already standing in his boxers. This sight was bloody painful. You moved your finger over it, which made Drew moan, dropping his head onto his soft mattress. “Baby,” he muttered, looking at you with slightly closed eyes as you removed his boxers and his cock came free.

He was huge. You had seen him in passing before, but this was your first time. And you had never been so excited in your life as you were now.

You took him in your hand and ran your thumb over his pre-cum. Damn, it was such an arousing sight. You quickly replaced your hand with your mouth, taking him all the way into your mouth. He could barely fit inside them, but you wanted to be the best for him. You sucked on him, moving your head up and down, slightly causing yourself a gag reflex. You both giggled, however, you did not stop. You saw that Drew was getting closer and closer with every move you made, so you added your hand and squeezed his testicles. You could have sworn that this made him even closer.

“[Y.N], fuck,” he muttered, stroking your hair. Drew didn't take the initiative at all, giving you full control.

You felt his penis begin to pulsate in your mouth, so you sped up your movements even more. You took him deeper, licking and supporting yourself with your hand. Soon, with a loud exhale, Drew reached inside your mouth, and your throat was flooded with his cum.

It didn't occur to you to do this before, but now you swallowed it all with full confidence, moving your mouth up and down for a while more, helping him come down from his orgasm.

“You're wonderful,” he muttered, pulling you against him. You sat on his naked lap, connecting your lips at once. Drew could feel himself on your tongue, but it didn't bother him at all.

He quickly threw off your dress and attached his lips to your neck. You felt that dark marks would appear in these places the next day, but you didn't give a damn. You wanted the whole world to know that you loved each other. That you loved each other in this way. That you were all his and he was all yours.

Without warning, Drew pressed his lips to your one breast, squeezing the other. He swirled his tongue around your nipple, making you even wet your entire thong, which you were wearing at the time. With an audible smack, he moved to the other nipple, leaving hickeys around it.

“Drew, I need you, I'm begging,” you muttered, pushing him away from your chest. You were as wet as you had ever been, and the man's hungry panting increased that even more. Your words were like a command to him. He immediately changed your position, so that now you were lying under him on the mattress and waiting for him to finally be inside you. “You are so beautiful,” he muttered, placing kisses all over your belly, then your thighs, until he kissed your still covered clit.

You allowed him to slip off your panties and the sensation you felt when his mouth attached to your pussy was indescribable.

“How beautiful,” he muttered, curling eights with his tongue around your sensitive bud. “How wet.”

"Drew, stop teasing," I muttered, shrinking your feet behind his back.

He knew what he was doing with his tongue. He perfectly pressed, sucked and teased your clit, driving you closer to the end with each passing second. Without much warning, he put his finger inside your pussy and began to move it nimbly, hitting that point. "Fuck," you moaned, touching his hair. The boy looked at you, not stopping to caress it with his tongue and finger, then added another, stretching you accordingly.

“Please,” you muttered, feeling that you were close to orgasm. “Drew.”

The boy sped up his movements, pressing more with his tongue against your clit, which was already sensitive enough. You felt a pleasant sense of fulfillment as you reached on his fingers and tongue. “How fucking good you taste,” he muttered, returning kisses to you. You surrounded his neck with your arms, kissing him imprecisely. You threw your legs around his hips, moving your naked pussy along his length, wanting him to enter you already.

“There, wait, baby,” he said, smacking you on the corner of your mouth, ”Do you have condoms?”

You shook your head negatively, but at that moment you didn't give a damn. All you wanted was him inside me, just that. “It's okay, I'll take the morning-after pill,” you muttered, moving your hips, begging him for one thing.

“All right,” he groaned and grabbed his length. He touched you with his tip and you trembled because of it. You relaxed slightly, letting him enter your pussy. “How tight” he muttered, entering you slowly with his entire length. “Perfect.”

Drew moved inside you slowly at first, but seeing that it was only giving you pleasure, he sped up. You both looked at the spot where your bodies joined and smiled at each other. Oh, you have been waiting for this apparently for a very long time.

By how horny you were tonight and how much you were looking forward to it, it didn't have to be long until you both felt you were getting close to fulfillment.

You bucked your hips closer to him, wanting to be as close as possible and to feel him as much inside you as possible. Drew grabbed your hips and instinctively started moving even faster and hitting your sensitive spot each time.

“You're wonderful,” you muttered, combing through his slightly wet hair.

The boy only smiled at you and clung to you with his lips, breathing loudly. And with that moment you both came. You a moment earlier than he did. But when you felt his cum spilling inside your cunt and suddenly it was pleasantly warm there, you moaned.

When it was over, Drew slumped against you, tired but smiling like never before. You also smiled broadly, hugging him to your chest. He was still inside you and you could feel him slowly stop being hard, but it felt too good to end it. “I love you,” he muttered, placing a kiss on your sternum, between your breasts.

“I love you too, terribly,” you muttered, combing his hair from his forehead.

You kissed him in the same place, momentarily holding your lips there. “Happy birthday, sunshine.” The boy lifted his head slightly from your body and kissed you on the lips. “I couldn't think of a better birthday.”

A/N: I know! I know there was supposed to be another chapter, but with Drew turning 31 today, I couldn't resist writing something related to him ;p hope you liked it and that I didn't make any mistakes (there may be a change of narration somewhere, because at the beginning I wrote it in the first person ahahh)

please do not copy and translate my works! in case of any issues related to this - I invite you to discuss privately :)

[kaleidohscopic]

TRY AGAIN — JJH

PAIRING: jaehyun x female reader SUMMARY: if you could have it your way, you'd never have to see, hear, or even think about jeong jaehyun ever again. a fortuitous blind date, and that same dimpled smile after all those years, is somehow enough to make you reconsider. maybe he was always meant to be by your side. GENRE: exes to lovers! au, slight coworkers! au, romance, angst, slow burn, humour, some pining, a touch of smut WARNINGS: swearing, alcohol consumption, too many descriptions of coffee and wine, mentions of sex, general mature content and themes, reader is not good at talking about her feelings, joy x doyoung, i try to write about the complexity of relationships and personal growth (i fail miserably) WORD COUNT: 32.4k NOTE: oh. my god. it's finally here! there's certainly something different about writing for your ult. office scenes inspired by the internship i did at a big 4 firm that ended up rejecting everyone from my department (yes i'm still bitter). i actually wanted to get this out back in august to celebrate jolo but alas, Life. i guess this is a parting gift? (jaehyun i am nothing and nobody without you.) i poured a lot of heart into this fic and posting it feels like letting my child go out into the world alone... be safe my darling xx

You should’ve brought an umbrella. 

The early evening sky was darkening faster than usual, ominous grey clouds hovering between the skyscrapers like an unspoken but imminent threat. Though the ground was still dry, you had a feeling it wouldn’t be for long. Your haste to leave your apartment this morning had robbed you of the good sense to check the weather forecast, mind too preoccupied with tonight’s agenda to spare a thought for the possible torrential downpour that summer seemed to be so fond of. 

A glance down at your feet sent a twinge of annoyance through you. Of course you picked the black pumps to wear today. They were pretty, which was why you had slipped them on in the first place, wanting to make a good impression even if you told yourself you didn’t really care that much, but they were also expensive, and you did not want to get them wet. You said a silent prayer. Hopefully the impending rain would be kind to the leather.

“You better not be flaking,” Joy warned, voice crackling through your phone speaker. “I don’t really care what he thinks of you for not showing up, but it’ll reflect badly on me, and I can’t have that.”

You suppressed a smile. Ever the drama queen.

“I am literally walking out of the station right now. The Italian place, right?” you asked, pausing for a moment at the top of the stairs to gather your surroundings. The restaurant she had picked out wasn’t exactly an unknown location to you, but it had been a while since you last visited, and the buildings seemed to look back at you with a dazed unfamiliarity.

She gave an affirmative hum. “Two streets down from the exit. The reservation is under my name, but I think he might be there already.”

“Yippee. How exciting.”

There was a loud sigh from the other end of the line, and you could almost hear her rolling her eyes at you. “You do know I set this up with your best interests at heart, right?”

“Are you sure it’s not because you were bored and needed to use some poor soul for your own entertainment?”

“Hey, I’m not the one who put three packets of salt in Jungwoo’s coffee,” she fired back. 

Okay, maybe that one was on you. But it had been pretty funny seeing him spit it out all over the office kitchen counter and then meticulously clean up the mess with paper towels, all the while eyeing everyone on your floor with suspicion.

“I’m just saying,” she continued, “give him a chance. I think you guys could really like each other.” There was a pause. “Plus, he’s super fucking hot. Like if I wasn’t happily taken I would be climbing him like a tree.”

“Gross. I’m filing a complaint with HR.”

“Reporting me to my own department? I’ll make sure that file never even makes it through the portal,” she cackled at your empty threat, and you joined in with her. “Seriously though, just give him a chance. At least stay until the mains come out.”

“Fine,” you acquiesced, though you made sure she heard the huff that accompanied it. “But if he starts talking about cryptocurrency I am leaving.” 

Joy only laughed, assuring you he probably wouldn’t, and bid you goodbye with a parting command for you to enjoy yourself. 

On days like these, you couldn’t decide whether you were grateful or unlucky to have been placed on a team with her for your first project at the company. Technically speaking, Joy was your senior by almost two years, but even at that first daily stand-up half a year ago, filled with nervous smiles and clumsy introductions, you had the feeling the two of you would gel. By the time that first project wrapped up, the two of you had long progressed past mere co-workers, having bonded over 8-hour days of Powerpoint formatting and your mutual dislike of olives. You had never been more thankful for someone so vivacious to show you the ropes, and help you settle into the new environment with such ease.

However, Joy was a meddler.

Her meddling was what had you currently navigating the crumbly asphalt in your nicest shoes to meet the apparent hunk she had set you up with. You didn’t know much about the guy since she refused to give you his name, afraid you’d search him up on social media and then make up some excuse to back out once you had seen his face — like you had done with the previous two that she’d picked out for you.

Apparently, this one was from the Digital department, and had been at the company for a little over a year. Those were two out of the three pieces of information that she had deigned to bestow upon you, the third being that he had dimples, which she thought you’d appreciate.

Oh, and now the fourth one being that he was ‘super fucking hot’.

Who knew? Maybe you would enjoy yourself. Getting back into the dating scene was pretty low on your priorities, with your career and trying to stick to a consistent gym routine taking up the majority of your time, but you were never opposed to a bit of fun. 

Maybe Mr Super-Fucking-Hot could be a bit of fun. 

Just take it easy, you thought to yourself, spotting the glass windows of the restaurant as you rounded the corner. Il Giardino, read the sign that hung above the door. Cute.

Hastily, you shifted your bag and cardigan to the other arm and smoothed out the creases in your black trousers. You had tried for something a little dressy, but also office-appropriate since you were coming straight from work, and not like you had tried too hard and spent an unnecessary number of hours thinking about what to wear on this stupid blind date. Another quick glance at your reflection in the window, just to make sure there was no food or lipstick in your teeth, and you pushed past the door.

Soft jazz filtered through your ears as you stepped inside. The restaurant was nicely decorated, a few vintage Italian posters hanging on the exposed brick walls, and an overall rustic feel that paired well with the warm, earthy ambience. Judging by the patrons already seated, this place was a popular date night location, with all but one table occupied by couples sharing soft touches and flirty smiles over half-filled glasses of red wine.

Joy certainly knew how to pick a spot.

You gave the smiling hostess Joy’s name for the reservation, managing a weak smile of your own when she informed you that the other half of your party had already arrived, and followed her through the tables further into the restaurant. Outside, the first few raindrops had begun to splatter against the asphalt, slowly darkening the road with wet patches that were sure to grow into puddles. It seemed you had arrived just in time to escape the rain.

The hostess stopped at a more private table towards the back, and gestured towards the empty seat with that same welcoming smile. Mystery man, aka Mr Super-Fucking-Hot, was sat with his back to you, leafing through what you assumed to be the drinks menu. His silhouette from behind was alright-looking, you supposed, if you really had to put a label to it, but there was something vaguely familiar about the shape of his head. Perhaps you had crossed paths in the office lobby before?

You approached the table, trying to sneak a peek of him out of the corner of your eye, just to see if he lived up to Joy’s oh-so-generous description, without being so painfully obvious—

And froze.

“Is everything alright?” the hostess asked, still beaming at you. 

You barely heard her through the cotton wool that seemed to suddenly fill your ears, hands instantly clamming up as you took in the man in front of you. His warm eyes widened a fraction of a millimetre with recognition, quickly followed by something else you couldn’t place.

This was not happening.

“Is everything okay?” the hostess tried again. The corners of her mouth were beginning to slip, and she cast you a mildly concerned glance.

How strange you must have looked, standing stock-still beside your reserved table like a statue. The only things that could dispel the notion you had suddenly turned into stone were the light flush to your cheeks, and the deafening pounding of your own heart that you were sure the whole restaurant could hear.

“Everything’s fine, just give us a minute please,” Jaehyun finally said, flashing the hostess a kind smile. She took her cue to leave, but not without another curious look between the two of you, hurriedly brushing away the waiter who was approaching the table and preparing to rattle off the specials. 

Hearing his voice seemed to break the spell that had rendered you so immobile. You straightened, shifting your bag higher up your shoulder, and turned to leave. Whatever this was, you were not entertaining it.

Chair legs screeched abruptly against the floor. 

“Wait,” he pleaded. 

Your eyes landed on his hand latched around your wrist first, before they moved to his face again. Slowly, his fingers loosened, but he kept you in his hold. 

“Will you sit, please?” he asked softly. 

You looked at him. Really looked at him, taking in his full, straight brows, the slope of his nose, the pinkness of his lips. His cheeks had slimmed since you had last seen him, allowing the sharpness of his jaw to really come through. Breathtakingly handsome as he always had been. A little older, a little more masculine, and yet somehow still the same.

And maybe because you still saw him, the boy that you loved, the first and likely only boy you had ever truly loved, you did sit, sliding into your chair like it was made of ice.

“It’s been a while,” he began, lowering back into his seat. You gave no indication that you had heard him at all, eyes focused on the flickering tealight candle at the centre of the table. The wax was a pinkish red colour, and the light scent coming from it was sweet, with a touch of tartness. Pomegranate, maybe. At your silence, he cleared his throat and tried again. “How have you—”

“Did you plan this?”

He pulled back a bit, as if in genuine shock. “No, I swear, I had no idea it was you. Joy only told me it was someone from her department, and that you were pretty, and she thought you’d be my type.” A pause. “Did you?”

Your reply was icy. “Why would I plan to see you?”

He looked away at that, sucking in a breath through his teeth. You were probably mistaken, but something akin to hurt flashed in those eyes as he gave a short nod at your words. Likely a trick of the light. It was a little too dim in here. What reason would he have to be hurt? Why would he be bleeding when you were the one with cuts all over your hands from picking up the glass shards of your own broken heart?

An uncomfortable beat passed. “Well, I’d say it was nice to see you, but you know I’m not good at lying,” you said. Shouldn’t have sat down in the first place.

Grabbing your bag and cardigan, you made to stand up again, regretting your decision to come here, regretting giving in to Joy so easily, regretting leaving the house this morning without a stupid fucking umbrella. The drizzle outside had turned into a downpour in no time, and the street drains were definitely going to clog up tonight. 

Seoul and its fucking summer monsoon season.

“Can we just—please, can you—fuck. Can we have dinner and just talk? As friends?” His hand shot out across the table, as if itching to grab yours again, but thought better of it, letting his fingertips rest against the edges of the linen napkin you hadn’t even bothered to unfold. 

A refraction of light from his sleeve caught your eye. His cufflinks. He was wearing the cufflinks you had gotten him for your high school graduation all those years ago. 

They had been expensive. Four months of pay from your part-time job at the ice-cream parlour was just enough for the pale pearls set in sterling silver. You supposed it would have been silly of him to throw them away when they were so valuable. It wasn’t like you had thrown away the gold pendant he had given you either. That necklace hadn’t hung around your neck for a long time, but it still sat somewhere in the depths of your jewellery box, underneath all the newer ones you had bought for yourself or received from friends over the years.

“Fine,” you found yourself saying. “Sure. As friends. Why not?” 

Sinking back into your seat, you reached for the wine menu immediately. Enduring the next hour in the company of your ex-boyfriend without a drink? Unbearable. As much as you liked to convince yourself you were over him, from your behaviour tonight it was clear you most certainly were not, and only alcohol could soothe that blow to your pride.

Your eyes flitted down the page of reds, then the whites, then the sparklings. Christ, the prices in this place were not pretty. Joy would have to be in a completely separate tax bracket from you if these were the kinds of establishments she frequented. 

For a brief moment, you thought about ordering the most expensive bottle on the list — a Penfold’s 2018 Shiraz — just to be spiteful, but decided against it. If you were really going to be sharing a meal ‘as friends’, he would not be footing the entire bill. You wouldn’t let him.

The waiter, under the impression that things had somewhat cooled down, finally approached your table, albeit a bit cautiously. Hearing but not really listening, you let him sing praises about the wild mushroom ravioli, ordering it just to save yourself the effort of reading through the rest of the menu. When he reached the beverages portion of his spiel, you settled for a more reasonable bottle, a 2021 merlot.

It was only once he had left to put your orders in that you realised that you had not even checked if Jaehyun was driving tonight.

“I’ll pay for the wine, if you’re not drinking,” you said, fiddling with your napkin. You could probably finish the whole bottle yourself anyway. Maybe that would make it easier to look him in the eye.

“You really don’t need to do that,” he replied, voice soft but firm. The weight of his eyes on you was almost a tangible thing. “I’ll have a glass.”

Your waiter returned, making a show of uncorking the bottle before pouring it out into both your glasses. You couldn’t down the first one fast enough, draining half the contents in one long mouthful like it was your first taste of water after finishing a marathon. Jaehyun was more deliberate with his glass, taking only a few small sips before he set it down on the table again. If he noticed the speed at which you emptied yours, which it was pretty hard not to with the way you were gulping the wine down, he said nothing.

God, this was fucking awkward.

“So,” he began, trying to mask the crack of his voice with a cough, “what made you agree to this thing?”

You reached for the bottle. “Felt like I owed it to Joy,” you said, pouring yourself another glass. “I flaked out of the last two she organised.” 

Maybe you should have just gone on that first one with Taehyung, or Taehyun, or whatever his name was. Then you could have avoided this situation altogether. 

“So you do this kind of thing a lot, then?” came his careful question.

You were curt. “No.” 

He blinked a few times, the movements slow with confusion at the abruptness of your answer. You knew you were being difficult. You wanted to be. Five years could heal most things, but unspoken words could linger like splinters under your fingernails, festering below the surface. Calluses had hardened over the splinters of your breakup, tough and protective, but now it was as if they were pushing through to the surface again, your fingers newly tender at the sight of him after all those years. 

A small part of you wanted to give him a taste of your hurt, wanted him to feel the prick of tiny wood chips in the flesh behind his nail beds. The larger part, however, knew malice would do no good for you. You had survived the pain. There was no reason to survive poison as well.

“No, I don’t,” you tried again, a little softer, a little less jagged around the edges. “I think she just likes to set them up for fun. This is my first time on one of these blind uh…” The word date sat heavy on the tip of your tongue but refused to budge. “One of these things.” Maybe another mouthful of wine would wash it down.

“Her definition of fun can be rather interesting,” he said, politely filling the silence.

You hummed in agreement, raising the freshly filled wine glass to your mouth again as you scrambled around in your head for something, anything to say. It had been a while since you had last been out on the dating scene, and you were well aware of it, but good grief, it was like your conversational skills had evaporated into thin air.

“How do you know Joy?” was what you decided on after a deliberately slow sip.

Thankfully, Jaehyun seemed to still know how to carry a conversation. “She’s one of the HR reps for Digital, so we’ve spoken a few times before. And her boyfriend is a friend from university.” He paused to take a sip of his wine. “Have you met him?”

You shook your head lightly. “No, not yet. Hoping to, soon.” 

“You’ll like him. Doyoung’s a great guy. Patience of a saint.”

“He’d have to be to keep up with her,” you said, hints of a chuckle sprinkled in your voice. 

Something about the fact that he was already privy to more of Joy’s personal life than you were had a sliver of jealousy wriggling in your stomach. She was supposed to be your friend, and yet you knew very little about Doyoung besides his name, while your ex-boyfriend across from you had been buddy-buddy with him for probably years and years. Not that it was a competition to see who held more information about their coworker outside the office, but the feeling that you were somewhat losing didn’t sit well.

“It’s actually my first time on a blind date as well,” he said, allowing himself a tentative smile. “You know how convincing she can be. I mean, I don’t think I’d ever go on one if she hadn’t roped me in. It feels a bit silly meeting up with a complete stranger, you know?” He turned his smile to you, still tentative but coloured with a tinge of hopefulness, like he wanted you to understand, like he knew you would. 

How could you not? There had once been a time where you believed that you and Jaehyun had been two halves of the same soul, carved into existence from the same stone. There had once been a time where you knew him almost better than he knew himself. 

A time rather distant from now.

You kept your answer non-committal. “Sure,” you murmured, wishing his pretty face wouldn’t fall so quickly at your nonchalance, wishing you hadn’t caught the slightest droop to the curve of his mouth. Everything about him was still too familiar. “I’m just a bit surprised to hear that, I guess. You were so desperate to meet new people back then.”

Three seconds passed in silence. 

His eyes dropped to his lap, as did yours to your own. This previously reasonable bottle of merlot was loosening your lips rather unreasonably.

“Sorry, that was—” Unnecessary? Mean? 

True? 

“I didn’t mean to say that,” you finally managed, the words spilling out of your mouth in a tumbled rush. 

Or maybe you had. 

Jaehyun could only flash you a weak smile. “It’s fine,” he said, though you both knew it wasn’t really.

Frigidity returned to the air between you, stopped just short of freezing over by the reappearance of your waiter, along with a plate of goat’s cheese arancini. Jaehyun politely gestured for you to eat first, watching as you speared the crusty surface with your fork and moved it over to your own plate. For a few seconds, the only noises that could be heard from the table were the clinks and clanks of stainless steel utensils against ceramic plates. The arancini could not have come at a better time, affording both of you the opportunity to hide behind the guise of eating, and put off the need to make strained conversation, even if the time it bought you was fleeting.

Meet new people. Those were the exact words he had said to you all those years ago. Han River on a Tuesday night, cherry blossom petals fluttering through the balmy April air, the iciness of winter finally melting away into a distant memory to reveal fresh green carpets and vivid blooms — few things could have been more romantic. Spring is the season of love, they said. 

But for you, spring was the season of loss. It was the season when love ended, when love could be taken back and snatched away in the blink of an eye. On a Tuesday night in April, you learned that your love was not just not enough, but that it was a burden, an obstacle between Jaehyun and living his life to the fullest. That time spent with you was time squandered. That you were robbing him of the complete university experience, and to an extent, his youth.

Jaehyun had always been a wanter. He wanted boldly and he wanted freely, never dwelling too long on how his wanting could appear in the eyes of others, never shy about his desires. When he was ten years old, he wanted a dog, despite the reddening of his nose and the watering of his eyes whenever he’d get within arm’s distance of the bichon frisé. In tenth grade, he wanted you, with cans of peach soda and sweet little notes in your locker until you finally said yes to being his girlfriend after three days of public pursuit. 

(You had arguably wanted him more, and for longer, though nobody had been none the wiser — you were rather good at hiding your feelings.)

Two months into your first year at university, his wants changed. He wanted more space and more freedom to meet new people. He wanted to be able to attend club social outings, and get to know his seniors, and play drinking games with his new roommates, instead of trekking to the other side of Seoul every week to see you, his girlfriend, who had now become his obligation.

It would have been a lie to say you hadn’t noticed a shift in his behaviour in the months leading up to that fateful night. Smiles had become a little wearier. Texts had become sparser. You had chalked it up to the challenges of settling into the new routine and rigorous coursework, and the distance between your schools that occupied opposite sides of the city. Sure, the hour-long subway ride from his campus to yours wasn’t the greatest asset to your relationship, but 18-year-old you had remained optimistic it would endure whatever curveballs your first year of university and the beginnings of real adulthood would throw at you. 

You had survived the CSAT together and emerged in one piece. What else could be harder than that?

“You’re right though,” he said quietly, eyes fixed on his own piece of fried goat’s cheese. “I guess I was.”

You let your fork drop with a soft clang. “Let’s not, uh—we don’t have to talk about that.” Pink petals were swimming at the edges of your vision. 

Please, let’s not talk about that.

A flicker of something behind his eyes could almost convince you he wanted exactly the opposite of your unspoken plea. Maybe this was a conversation he didn’t actually want to avoid the way you so desperately did. 

And maybe he would have said something too, if not for the waiter who returned at that precise moment. 

“The mushroom ravioli,” the waiter announced, setting the plate down in front of you, “and the amatriciana spaghetti. Enjoy.” 

Four pieces of pasta covered in sage butter looked back up at you. 

You made a mental note to never order ravioli at an Italian restaurant ever again. 

The sound of scraping utensils returned to your table, lightly blanketing the stilted pause in conversation with idle noise. Without much enthusiasm, you sliced at one of the four pieces of your ravioli, throwing what you hoped were sneaky glances at the full plate of spaghetti sitting in an appetising red sauce laid out before your ex-boyfriend. 

“Do you want to try mine?”

Sneakiness had never been your forte.

Your polite refusal came quickly, even if it was rather weak to your own ears, but Jaehyun was already twirling a portion out onto the share plate the waiter had kindly provided a few minutes earlier. He made sure to scoop some sauce and pancetta bits on top as well, before gently pushing the plate towards you. 

“Thanks,” you mumbled, though you made no move to dig in.

Everything wasn’t supposed to feel this familiar. You weren’t supposed to soften so easily at the sight of his dimpled smile. You weren’t supposed to feel that strange tug in your chest at his thoughtfulness, at the way he could still pick up the slightest change in your expression. And maybe the bar was too low, and here you were fawning over nothing more than the bare minimum, because what guy would see his date enviously looking at his food instead of her own and blatantly ignore it?

But with Jaehyun, it was different. You knew it was. Within every action, there was familiarity and practice, there was thought and care, there were years of history that were unerasable, even with the passage of time. You weren’t the same wide-eyed teenagers now as you had been then, and yet scenes from the rest of that excruciating first semester flickered in your mind. 

A silent breakdown during a business administration lecture. Your roommate’s concerned expression when you decided to skip dinner again.

The tug in your chest was leading you back into dangerous territory. 

For the third time tonight, you debated grabbing your things and walking straight out. You had only promised Joy that you would stay until the mains came out. If you were going to leave now, technically, you would still have fulfilled your end of the promise. Arguably, this wasn’t the best time to make an exit — fifteen minutes earlier would have been much better so that the kitchen would have time to cancel your stupid ravioli before they started preparing it. Leaving now wouldn’t be the most optimal, but it was still an option. A tad heavy on the dramatics, but you could live with that. You’d just never be able to step foot in this establishment again.

A shame. The spaghetti looked good. You’d have to search up if this place did delivery.

“You can go if you really want to, I won’t hold it against you,” Jaehyun said quietly. His eyes were fixed on the fork he was twirling through his dish. You supposed you should’ve been surprised at the way he could read your mind without even looking at you, but you couldn’t find the energy in you to pretend.

“But,” he continued at your silence, “if you’re willing to stay, I’d really like it if we could just catch up?” At this, he finally met your eyes and offered a small smile. “It has been a while, after all.”

Maybe it was the sincerity contained in those soft brown eyes. Maybe it was because you really did want to try the amatriciana spaghetti while it was hot and fresh off the stove. Whatever it was, you found yourself resolving to stay, despite all the reasons not to, despite the sound of them loud and clear in your head, ready at your disposal. Allowing yourself to indulge in nostalgia once in a while couldn’t be that bad for you. Right? 

So you stayed. And you ate (his spicy amatriciana scored a landslide victory over your mushroom ravioli). And you talked. As two friends would do, catching each other up on the things that had shaped your lives since you had gone on your separate ways. 

Conversation was clunky at first, that was to be expected. Even the closest of friendships would encounter some choppy waters when reconnecting for the first time after five years. But conversation with Jaehyun gave way to smooth sailing much quicker than you would have expected. He still wore the face of the boy who would sneak an extra serving of fried sweet potato from the cafeteria because he knew you liked them, but he wasn’t quite the same. Older, certainly. Maturity wasn’t something that went hand-in-hand with age like you had thought when you were younger, but he was more mature too. Surer of himself, and his place in the world.

You heard of the summer he spent in the UK after graduation, visiting his uncle and their family, appreciating classical architecture and the leisure inherent to rolling green hills that he hadn’t been able to find in the metropolis he had grown up in. (The food, however, was an entirely different story. He had never been so overjoyed to see a bowl of rice that wasn’t covered in mushy peas or sitting in a puddle of questionable-looking curry.)

He learned of your semester exchange in Amsterdam, including the unfortunate incident involving you, a runaway bicycle, and the freezing water of the Dutch canals. Fortunately, a nasty cold and two weeks in bed over the Christmas break were the worst things that came of it. Those few months had been eye-opening, to say the least. Stepping outside of your own bubble had made you realise how much more there was to the world, and how little you knew of it.

Yes, Jaehyun had changed, but then again so had you. The realisation dawned halfway through dessert, slowly settling over you as you spooned at the tiramisu in the centre of the table. Perhaps it hadn’t been fair to him that you had been harbouring this seed of antagonism towards him for all these years. He, so afflicted by youth, as you both had been back then, was only doing what he thought was right and necessary. Could you really fault him for that? You had seen enough of life now to know that sometimes, nobody was to blame.

There was a comfortable lull in the conversation before he spoke again. The sound of his voice drew you away from the window, where you could see that the rain had slowed from the earlier dramatic downpour to a lighter shower. 

“I know I probably wasn’t who you were expecting today,” he said, a little hesitant and gauging your expression.

“You definitely were not.” You gave him an amused half-smile over the rim of your barely-filled glass, which he returned. The bottle of merlot sat tall and empty on the table.

“I just wanted to say,” he began, taking in a breath, “I’m glad it was you. It was really nice to see you again. And I’m sorry if you were disappointed that it was me.” 

There was something sad in the curve of his mouth, you thought. It tempered the warmth in his eyes.

“I’m not disappointed,” you heard yourself say. “Really.”

It was the truth. You knew he could see it written across your face. Dishonesty and insincere flattery were not familiar weapons you wielded. He knew that. He knew you.

Jaehyun sat back, bringing his own glass to his lips and draining the lingering contents. Perhaps to hide the private smile that broke out across his handsome face, which you pretended not to see, turning your attention back to the raindrops pattering against the window. 

The evening air was cool on your bare arms when you stepped out, taking shelter under the awning in front of the restaurant. You weren’t the only one who had forgone a weather app consultation today. Jaehyun stood beside you, hands tucked neatly in the pockets of his slacks, a not unwelcome companion while you waited for your taxi to arrive. He’d call one later, after he made sure you had gotten in the car and were on the way home.

“I guess I’ll see you around?” he asked, tone light. 

You cast a sidelong glance at him. His profile was backlit by the warm light emanating from inside the restaurant, carving out the straight bridge of his nose, a soft shadow cupping the fullness of his bottom lip. Would there ever be a time the sight of him wouldn’t take your breath away?

“Maybe,” you breathed. Letting him back into your life wasn’t a decision you felt ready to make yet, and you had no intention of promising him anything you couldn’t be sure you’d be able to deliver. Even if you would only be promising him friendship.

He didn’t push it further and hummed in understanding. Then your taxi was pulling up in front of the restaurant, the splash from the tyres just missing the hem of your trousers, and you were bidding him goodbye, staring a second too long at the dimples that appeared, and trying not to step in a pothole puddle as you clambered rather ungracefully into the car. 

But because realisation was never punctual, it was only when you arrived home, carefully kicking off the black pumps and patting them dry with a microfibre cloth, that you realised two things. 

First, you had left your cardigan at the Italian restaurant.

And second, Jaehyun had footed the whole bill.

There was a reason the seventh floor was your favourite floor in the building.

It wasn’t because of the little in-office cafe with the cute but ridiculously overpriced pastries that tasted even better than they looked, or the deceptively comfortable bean bag chairs by the far window that would always tempt you with a mid-afternoon nap every time you sank into one of them.

No. The seventh floor was your favourite because it had a Nespresso machine. Free use. Company-funded.

A seventh floor coffee was one of the only things that could get you to leave the comfort of your desk and willingly walk up two flights of stairs. (The elevators always took too long.) On Monday afternoons like these, after an entire morning swimming through attendance and sick leave reports from the last quarter, the promise of a smooth and velvety cappuccino felt like your only hope for humanity. Unfortunately for you, it seemed like everybody else had the same idea, if the line in front of the coffee machine was anything to judge by. 

“You should have told me!”

You gave Joy an incredulous look. “Right. Because I definitely knew exactly who he was.”

“Well, you could have worked it out. You’re a smart girl.”

“You said a total of three sentences about him.”

She paused, fixing you with a contemplative stare. Her eyebrows were doing that weird lifting thing when she was running something through her head. “Five sentences,” she finally managed, tapping around the rim of her empty mug. 

Why she came up with you at all when she wasn’t a coffee person, would probably take two sips of the espresso, and then complain it was too bitter, was beyond you. Sometimes you wondered if she was really that good at her job, or if her workload was just so non-existent that she could take five coffee breaks a day. It couldn’t be the latter, because you had seen that her calendar was full for the entire morning.

“Let’s not spend the next fifteen minutes talking about last Friday,” you sighed, already pushing thoughts of dimpled smiles and warm eyes to the far corner of your mind. Hopefully not to be revisited for a while. “I want my head outrageously blank while I enjoy this cappuccino. Swear to god Junmyeon is trying to drown me with those leave reports.”

“You know he only assigns them to you because you’ve never told him you hate doing it.”

“He assigns them to me because I’m the only one available who can get it done properly. You’re always blocked out, and Jungwoo has that weekly coaching session. Jisung tried to help me do it this morning, and he didn’t even separate paid from unpaid leave. The numbers looked like we were bleeding PTO.”

She gave you a sly smile. “You know you can block yourself out too,” she said off-handedly. 

“You can what?”

This was new information.

“You’re telling me someone else could be sifting through that 70-page file if I just schedule in a random meeting with myself?” you asked again, to which she nodded.

“Has yet to fail me. But make sure you name it something that makes sense, and don’t do it all the time, otherwise it’ll look suspicious.”

Corporate bullshitting was a fine art, and you were beginning to realise you were still but a novice at it. 

“And lay off the intern,” she added. “He’s just a child.” “He’s taller than Junmyeon.”

“A child in spirit, then. You know what I mean. He sort of reminds me of a cute little mouse,” she mused, trailing off. If her apartment complex didn’t have a pet ban, you had a feeling she would be taking in every stray animal off the street.

However, she was right. Jisung had been a bigger help than you had expected of a second-year commerce student. Even if it was just skimming through a finished presentation pack to fix up any typos and align text boxes, you couldn’t deny that having an extra pair of eyes and hands had made your life a little bit easier. Maybe you would even miss him once his summer placement came to an end and the semester rolled back around. As long as there weren’t too many more incidents like the one from this morning.

Speaking of this morning…

“Hey, does that mean you’ve been making yourself unavailable so you don’t have to read the—”

“Oh look! The line’s getting shorter. You should move up before someone cuts in.”

You shuffled forward, but not without throwing her a displeased look along with a grumble or two. Next time the quarterly attendance analysis rolled around, you were definitely making use of the trick she had just told you about. A quick glance up ahead. There were now three people in front of you in the line, but only one green capsule left on the rack. 

Please, caffeine gods be willing, let that last one be yours.  

“I can’t believe I told you that I thought your ex-boyfriend was super fucking hot. I feel so icky, like I’ve betrayed you somehow,” Joy said, making a face. The dimpled smile fought its way back into your consciousness, and you suppressed the twist in your stomach that seemed to accompany every recollection of it. 

“It’s honestly fine. There’s no way you could have known.” You shrugged, partly to reassure her it wasn’t a big deal, and partly to shake off that funny feeling in the pit of your stomach.

The better part of your weekend had been spent trying to make sense of the night, after battling a merlot-induced migraine for most of Saturday morning and early afternoon. Three glasses had been a necessity to get through dinner, but it was ultimately overkill. You were no longer the girl from two years ago who took advantage of her afternoon class the next day by destroying a few soju bottles with your roommates. On a weeknight, too.

Joy gave your arm a soft squeeze. “Still, I’m sorry I put you through that. Hopefully it wasn’t completely awful?”

Completely awful, it was not. Awful at some parts? Maybe. 

Truthfully, you hadn’t been prepared to see Jaehyun again. Not to say that you had never thought about it — you definitely had, running simulations through your head about how you would run into him on the street, ignore his greeting and walk past him like he didn’t even exist. But those were the musings of a heart-broken teenager, turning to spite and cheap endeavours at revenge to cope with the loss of her first love. Last Friday did have spite rearing its ugly head, but that spite was short-lived, and only one aspect that made up the whirlwind of emotions that came with seeing him again after all those years. 

“No, it wasn’t all bad,” you were about to say, when your eye was suddenly caught by a movement up ahead. 

A slender, veiny hand reached out to grab the last green pod from the coffee rack. You watched as the thief’s fingers closed around the capsule and slotted it into the machine. He pressed the lever down — because of course, it was a man. Not only was he on the better side of the gender wage gap, but he also had to be ahead of you in the caffeine race as well.

The sound of the capsule being punctured was the final blow. 

“My coffee,” you lamented under your breath.

“Have some patience,” Joy chided. “We’re nearly there. You’re like a zombie when you don’t have your little cup of bean juice.”

You shook your head glumly. “The last Peruvian. I waited for so long. It was supposed to be mine, and he took it.” 

“Who did?”

“The guy at the front.” 

Your eyes were still glued on the hand as it wrapped around the mug filled with your favourite blend, completely unaware that it had just robbed you of the only small pocket of joy you had been looking forward to all afternoon. Peering around the two people still ahead, your gaze travelled up his exposed forearm and the sleeve of the white dress shirt cuffed there. If only you could catch a glimpse of the face that had stomped all over your hopes and dreams… 

The lady in front of you shuffled closer to the coffee machine and finally cleared your line of sight. Coffee stealer’s ear came into view before his face did, and he was—

“Jaehyun?”

His name fell out of Joy’s mouth before you could even get your own to start working again and beg her not to call out to him. For a moment you were afraid you had conjured him out of thin air from the uninvited thoughts of him circling the outskirts of your mind. At least now you knew he wasn’t a hallucination.

Jaehyun’s eyebrows pinched in confusion first, then surprise, before finally smoothing over with recognition. He offered a small wave, eyes flitting from Joy over to you, and then he was walking over, and you were fighting for your life trying to mask the panic that was bubbling away inside your chest.

You shot Joy a frantic look. Why did you do that?

I don’t know! Sorry, said her returning one. The corners of her mouth were turned down in an apologetic frown, but she quickly schooled it into a smile at Jaehyun’s approach.

“I’ve never seen you on seven before,” Joy said, the spitting image of friendliness, nevermind that you were beside her and desperately looking for an exit out of the incoming conversation. “You’re always holed up somewhere on ten.”

You supposed you should have known this would happen sooner or later. Six months without running into each other when you worked at the same company, in the same building, was the exception, not the rule. You were just grateful Joy didn’t try to bring up her clever little dinner setup that had been plaguing you the entire weekend, or try and rope the two of you into awkward and unnecessary introductions.

“Someone told me I should come down and try the Nespresso machine. Apparently it’s really good,” he said, gesturing at the mug you had been staring at for the past three minutes.

“It is,” were the first two words you managed. Both pairs of eyes shifted towards you, waiting for the rest of your comment to come, but you could only disappoint, the syllables hanging thick and dumb in the air. 

There appeared to be some sort of blockage in your mouth-to-brain pipeline.

Joy cleared her throat lightly, throwing you a sideways glance. “Which one did you try? They all taste the same to me, but she only drinks the green ones,” she said, ignoring the panicked twitch of your mouth. She knew full well that he was the one you’d been staring daggers into ever since he grabbed that stupid capsule. Your stupid capsule.

Jaehyun’s eyes flicked between your face and the steaming drink in his hand a few times.

“Do you want mine? I think I might have taken the last green one.” He offered the mug to you. “I didn’t really know what to press, so it’s just a cappuccino. Regular milk. I haven’t had any yet.”

“It’s fine, you should have yours. I’ll get another one,” you politely declined. No matter how much you liked the Peruvian blend, it was not worth the charity from your ex-boyfriend. Even if it was the only thing that could get you through the rest of the afternoon. Even if he was holding the exact thing that you had been planning on getting. 

Hopefully the kitchen staff would restock those capsules by tomorrow.

The look he gave you was not a convinced one, but he didn’t push further. With your dismissal of his offer, the three of you lapsed into a sticky silence. Even Joy, who was so adept at making topics of conversation out of nothing, had little to add, passing up the challenge of pulling meaningful sentences out of your mouth. The stifling tension between you and Jaehyun must have been more powerful than you thought. 

“Shoot, I think I’m getting a Teams call,” Joy suddenly said, making a show of pulling her phone out and tapping the screen. 

Liar. She didn’t even have the app notifications turned on. 

“I should probably take this, but I’ll see the both of you later.” She flashed a contrite smile, and then she was off, almost speed-walking her way down the stairs you had come up together, all the while pressing her phone to her ear with a little too much urgency for a mid-afternoon cold call. By the look on Jaehyun’s face, he hadn’t been all that impressed by her impromptu theatrics either.

“Are you still in the line?”

“Sorry, yes,” you muttered at the woman behind you. Clearly, you were not the only one impatient for their caffeine fix. 

Finally, you were at the counter. You stared blankly at the rack of capsules. The empty space where the green ones were usually stored was glaringly obvious, jumping out at you while you skimmed through the other blends for a passable alternative. After many more seconds than would have been necessary to pick one flavour out of the remaining three, your fingers closed around a gold one. It would have to do for today. 

Jaehyun watched as you dropped the capsule into its slot and made your selections. Why he was still here with you was somewhat of a mystery. You would’ve thought that Joy’s hasty exit would have prompted him to do the same, saving the both of you from having to make bumbling small talk about the weather, or the weekend, or whatever else that two people working at the same company, with no other relational history, could talk about to fill in the silence.

Maybe he wanted to talk about the dinner bill. The fact that he had settled it, without you even noticing, had been weighing on your mind. It was less of a money thing — though you were pretty sure the total hadn’t been a modest number — than a pride thing. Being indebted to others always left a smear on your conscience. 

Being indebted to your ex-boyfriend was like someone had shit all over it.

Whatever. If he didn’t bring it up first, you would. This was the 21st century. You were both financially independent adults. Splitting the bill on a first date didn’t have to be such a contentious thing. 

Although technically, it was far from your first. And it wasn’t a date either, because you had refused to label it as such in your head.

The last few drops of milk and espresso trickled into the mug, before the machine stopped whirring altogether. You knew he was still there. You could feel his presence behind you. He had probably been waiting for the noise to stop so that you’d be able to hear him speak. Taking your mug off the stand, you turned to face him. 

“Your cardigan,” he said.

“Huh?”

Confusion splashed over you. You weren’t even wearing one today.

“I have your cardigan,” he amended. “From Friday. You left it inside the restaurant. One of the waiters brought it out, but you had left already, so I took it with me.” He scratched the back of his neck. “I have it now, if you want it back.”

“You do?” 

“I mean, it’s at my desk. I brought it in today,” he added quickly, seeing the way you were looking about his person like you were expecting it to materialise into his hands.

You blinked a few times, trying to clear the brain fog that had decided now was the perfect time to strike. “Yes, I—thank you, um, for that. I can take it off you…?” 

Had you meant to have it sound so much like a question? It seemed like your capacity for human speech was always afflicted by some sort of malfunction in his presence.

“Okay, uh, do you want to come up to my desk? I’ve got it there.”

The elevator ride up to the tenth floor was a short one. You could have taken the stairs just to get the extra steps in, but with both of you holding uncovered drinks, three flights of stairs combined with your clumsy fingers were a slip hazard just waiting to happen. Still, despite the short journey, the seconds inside the elevator seemed to drag on for much longer.

Before you could lose your nerve, you opened your mouth to crack the silence. 

“Let me pay you back for dinner.” 

Good. It sounded good. Firm, but not overbearing. Hell yeah, you were getting the hang of this conversation-with-your-ex-boyfriend thing. 

Jaehyun seemed a bit taken aback by that, turning to you slightly with surprise woven into the crease of his brow. “You really don’t need to do that,” he said after a beat.

The elevator dinged, and he stepped out through the sliding doors before you could form a coherent response. It took a second for you to follow, the coffee inside your mug almost making a dangerous appearance all over the elevator floor as you caught up with his strides. 

“Think of it as me taking care of a junior colleague. I am your senior, you know,” he said over his shoulder, a smile gracing his features at the latter part.

“Only by half a year,” you grumbled. “That doesn’t even count.” The light shake of his broad shoulders let you know he had heard your gripes over his attempts at enforcing seniority. His accompanying laugh was a soft one. You barely caught it above the noise of the tenth floor office.

The mellowed cosiness of the fifth floor HR department was hard to be found here. You were used to some chatter, with the occasional high-pitched laugh from Joy punctuating the air. On days he was feeling particularly jovial, Junmyeon could be heard humming from whichever desk he had decided to park at for the day (such was the beauty of hot-desking and hotelling). The few occasions you shared a table with him had allowed you to recognise the melody of The Beatles’ Strawberry Fields Forever — always the same song, and he hummed everything except for the words ‘strawberry fields’, which he insisted on singing, albeit softly.

Nothing about Digital was soft or cosy. Except maybe the sofa in one of the open creative spaces. The floor buzzed with activity, from the influx of incoming call ringtones to agenda-packed meetings in conference rooms. A group of people were clustered around a floor-to-ceiling whiteboard covered in diagrams that were undecipherable to you, engaged in animated conversation while pointing at various parts of the board. Some of them greeted Jaehyun as he walked past with you in tow.

“I had no idea Digital was this busy,” you mused out loud, following him as he weaved through the desks.

He chuckled lightly. “We like to talk a lot. And some of us can get a bit loud,” he said. The joking undercurrent to his voice had you thinking that the second part was said with someone in mind. “But it’s more hectic than usual. We’ve just won a really big bid and Johnny’s excited about his first time leading one of the streams.” He paused to wave and give a thumbs-up at the man standing at the very front of the whiteboard group (you assumed this was Johnny), who returned the greetings with just as much enthusiasm. 

Jaehyun had always been a people person. That was one thing that would likely never change.

The two of you arrived at his desk, a quieter one next to the windows offering an almost unobstructed view of the city. He dug around his workspace, pulling out a Jo Malone gift bag. 

“Ignore the bag,” he said, catching your wary expression. “I didn’t want to stuff it in my duffel with the rest of my gym stuff.” 

You took it from his outstretched hand, with a quick glance to check that it was in fact your cardigan. The ribbed black fabric sat inside, folded neatly over itself. 

“It got rained on quite a bit, so I washed it. I hope that’s okay.”

“Of course, that’s kind of you, Jaehyun. You didn’t have to.” For a moment, you wondered if he still used the same pine-scented laundry detergent. The smell of it used to cling to his school uniform, a burst of freshness you always sought during the muggy summer days.

“Thank you,” you said, giving him a grateful smile. “I thought I lost it for good.” In your mind, you had already made peace with the fact that you would probably see the thing ever again. Yet all weekend, it had been taking up space in Jaehyun’s hamper, uncertain as to when it would finally be able to reunite with your closet.

You gave him a careful look. 

“Did you plan on seeing me today?” you asked. 

“No. Yes. I mean—” The tips of his ears took on the faintest hint of a pink flush. “I didn’t know if I would run into you, so I’m glad I did. But otherwise, I was just going to give it to Joy and get her to pass it along to you,” he trailed off, gaze shifting sideways to the cityscape posted on the other side of the glass windows. 

Neither of you had bothered with exchanging contact details after dinner, an oversight that was more deliberate than not on your part. His re-entry into your life was something you hadn’t felt quite ready for. And yet—

“Do you want my number?”

Stupid mouth. The words were out before you even registered that you had spoken. You prayed he wouldn’t pick up on the unintended suggestion of the question, though judging by the quick raise of his left eyebrow, you weren’t the only one who realised the other possible interpretations of your words. 

“I mean, just in case something like this happens again. So you can contact me directly,” you added quickly. Heat slowly crept its way up to your cheeks. You hoped he wouldn’t notice.

“Sure,” he said, lips curling into a smile. “If that’s okay with you.” 

Considering you were the one who had said it out loud in the first place, it would have been strange if you suddenly decided it was not okay with you.

There was some fumbling with each other’s phones, before you were typing your number to add into his contacts, and he was doing the same to yours. Would he realise yours was still the same string of digits as it had been five years ago?

“Well, I’d better get going,” you said, handing back his phone. Now was as good a time to make an easy exit as any. You had planned on gossiping with Joy in the level seven kitchen for the rest of the hour, but back to your desk appeared to be the more likely destination this afternoon. 70-page files didn’t read themselves. “Thanks for the cardigan. I’ll see you later, then?”

Jaehyun looked like he had more to say, but you were already turning around, ready to leave the hubbub of the tenth floor. Ready to leave the presence of your ex-boyfriend-turned-friend? Acquaintance? You shook your head lightly. A drink was needed to unpack that box of worms.

A call of your name had you pausing mid-step.

“Your coffee,” Jaehyun said, tapping you on the shoulder to hand you your mug. 

“Thanks,” you mumbled, taking it from his grasp. You hadn’t even bothered to take a sip of the non-Peruvian cappuccino, the surface still untouched. It was probably cold now. Maybe you’d pass it off to Jungwoo, this time sans the salt.

“You know, if the dinner bill thing bothers you that much, you can just make it up to me later.”

You blinked at him a few times. “Make it up to you how?”

“Ah, that’s for me to decide,” he replied, a boyish glint to his smiling eyes. Both his dimples popped out, and you found yourself unable to choose which one to focus on. 

Then he was moving, and you were left staring at the broad expanse of his back as he walked away. Head full of thoughts wondering what the hell kind of favour he would now hold over your head, you almost walked straight into Jungwoo as you came out of the elevator.

“Hey, I got a Nespresso from seven. You want it?” you asked, offering him the coffee you stopped yourself from spilling all over him. He eyed the mug apprehensively.

“You put salt in it again, didn’t you?”

“No? Where did you even get that from? Hang on, how do you know it was me?”

Jungwoo sucked in a breath through his teeth. “So it was you! I knew it! You know, you really are a scary woman,” he grumbled. “Who ever would have thought an evil spirit lurked behind such a kind face?”

“So that’s a no to the coffee?”

“I don’t trust you anymore, so no.”

“Suit yourself,” you shrugged, making your way back to your desk. The attendance reports stared back at you as you logged into the monitor, drawing a sigh out of you. You took a sip of the coffee.

And frowned.

You brought the mug to your mouth again. Like the first sip, the second was also lukewarm. But like the first sip, the second also tasted exactly the same as your usual Peruvian blend. Maybe there really was no difference between all the different coloured capsules, you thought, skimming through page 33 of the file.

That thing about realisation never being on time? Still true.

On the subway ride home, gripping the handle with all your might while sandwiched between two middle-aged men in stuffy suits, it dawned on you.

Jaehyun had given you his coffee instead.

“Thanks everyone for dialling in today. We’ll chat soon.”

The screen reverted back to its default background as the call ended, and you let out a sound somewhere in between a groan and a whimper. Junmyeon did not look to be faring any better, head in his hands while his elbows rested on the meeting room table.

“Can somebody please tell Jackson and the rest of the Marketing heads that Summer Fridays doesn’t mean they can just take Fridays completely off?” he groaned, the sounds escaping through the gaps in his fingers. “Our absenteeism looks like it’s at an all time high. Nayeon, you’re friendly with him, aren’t you?”

The girl pressed at her temples. “I mean, we were in the same advertising and PR club back in university, if that counts for anything. But yeah, I’ll schedule some time with him and go over it.”

“Great, thank you,” Junmyeon sighed, throwing his head back. “Alright, I’ll send around a debrief email later this afternoon. Thanks everyone for your time.”

You didn’t have to be told twice. A second later and you were out of the eighth floor Marketing meeting room, already on your way to the Nespresso machine downstairs. Another coffee at 4pm was slightly pushing it, but you needed a pick-me-up urgently to wash away the gruelling two hours spent going through company policy with Marketing.

The buzz of your phone was a momentary distraction from your mission. 

It was a message from Jaehyun. Something silly in response to a text you had sent earlier in the day. 

jaehyun [04:07 pm]: in dire need of a fake mango right now jaehyun [04:07 pm]: mmm fake mango milkshake

The smile that crept up onto your face was almost like a reflex in the way it couldn’t be helped.

Now that you were acquainted again, it was like you saw him everywhere. How you had managed to completely avoid each other for the last half a year or so was a fascinating mystery. Some mornings you’d run into him in the building lobby. He’d hold the elevator doors open for you, and you’d exchange pleasantries on the ride up to the fifth floor, where you’d get off and bid him goodbye, or see you later. And see him later you did. Whether it was at the seventh floor coffee machine, or in line at the cafeteria on twelve, the sight of his face had become a nice interruption to the hours spent at a monitor, or in a call like the one you had just escaped.

He would come down to the fifth floor sometimes, stopping by Joy’s desk or yours to say hello and have a chat if you weren’t busy. You found yourself wishing he would spend less time with Joy than he did with you — not because you wanted to see him more (because that was absolutely not the reason at all), but because he was steadily gaining a lead over you in the Joy friendship competition. The three of you had spent a few lunch breaks at the cafeteria together, granted that your schedules matched, with an odd appearance from Jungwoo every now and again.

You saw more of Johnny (loud) and Mark (louder), Jaehyun’s friends from Digital who you’d normally hear before you’d see them. Johnny was his “beloved coffee mate” (Jaehyun’s exact words) and possibly the only other person in the building who cared about the green Peruvian capsules as much as you did. Mark was… Mark, for lack of a better description. There was nobody the boy couldn’t strike a conversation with. If he really needed to, you suspected he could probably get along with a wet paper towel. 

You had been offered an invitation to join the three of them for one of their weekly lunches outside the company building. Johnny was more than happy to let you know he was somewhat of an expert at finding the hottest eats in the area, having put half his floor onto the cold noodle place he had sought out at the start of the month. And laugh as you had when he proudly told you about it, Johnny’s influence was no joke. News of the restaurant had somehow trickled its way down to HR, with Junmyeon just the other day asking around the team if anyone had tried the place before. 

Perhaps you’d join them next week. It was always nice to be ahead of the trend. 

You arrived at the seventh floor kitchen and sighed. The rack was out of green capsules again. Although, maybe that was to be expected. It was nearing the end of the day, and the gold capsules were finished too. So much for a 4pm pick-me-up, you thought, though it might have been for the better — too much caffeine in one day always made you a bit antsy and had your resting heart rate up in the high 80s. 

With empty hands and a pout on your lips, you made your way back to the fifth floor. 

Joy’s eyes were glued to her screen when you walked past her. “Jaehyun stopped by while you were in that Marketing call,” she said without looking at you, squinting at a spreadsheet. 

“Did he?” you replied, trying your best at nonchalance despite the little flip of your stomach. 

“Are you talking about her handsome friend from Digital?” Jungwoo peered around the table with a playful grin on his face. 

You were back on good terms now, thanks to your promise to pay for his lunch from the cafeteria for a whole week to make up for the coffee incident. The look in his eyes right now had you thinking life was better that week where he had been afraid of you.

“Yeah, that’s the one,” Joy said distractedly in between clicks of her keyboard. “Jisung, can you just double check these numbers for me? I’m in the second tab of the Excel file.” 

The intern was quick to comply. You had a feeling she was his favourite senior. 

“Anyways, I think he left you something.”

You made your way over to your desk, ignoring Jungwoo’s oohs and ahs. Sure enough, there was something sitting next to your diary and the three empty glasses you hadn’t had the chance to rinse out yet.

It was a coffee capsule. Specifically, it was a green coffee capsule. 

There was a sticky note stuck to the back of it, which you turned around to read. His handwriting was still identical to that of the silly little notes he used to leave in the margins of your home economics workbook. 

saved this last one from johnny’s clutches. enjoy ^.^

Despite the jitters from the end-of-day caffeine fix, you smiled the whole way home.

“I’ve found a way you can make it up to me.”

You pulled the phone away from your ear to check the screen. 9:34 am. The Saturday morning still had you in its clutches, and it took a few seconds to process the sounds you were hearing. 

“Who is this?” you croaked, sleep lacing your voice. 

“It’s Jaehyun.” 

You sat up a little straighter against the pillows. “Jaehyun?” you echoed. 

“Yes, it’s me. Do you not check the caller ID before you answer?”

You grumbled something about it being too early on the weekend to have your head screwed on properly, to which he laughed, a vivid sound even through the phone. 

“Do you have plans later today?”

You hesitated. Technically, no, unless a hot date with Netflix and whatever leftover snacks you could find in your pantry counted as plans. You were due for a grocery trip soon. The three eggs and single sprig of spring onion in your fridge would not last for long. Cooking had never been something you enjoyed, especially not after a full work day, and yet living alone required so much of it. You didn’t want to make up a non-existent dinner reservation, partly because you knew he’d be able to tell the untruth just by listening to your voice, and partly because something unpleasant niggled at your insides at the thought of lying just to avoid him.  

“Why, what’s up?” you asked instead.

“Well, you know that jazz festival?” You gave an affirmative hum. “I have tickets for today. Mark and I were supposed to go together, but he just called me saying he can’t make it. Something about a leak in his apartment from all the rain. So…”

You stifled a yawn. “So?” Your brain was still trying to catch up with the land of the awake and living. 

“Come with me?”

The words took a while and a few blinks to register. When they did, your first instinct was to say no. Jaehyun was fine in small doses. A quick chat over coffee, sporadic texts throughout the day, conversation within the safety of a group setting — these were all fine. Manageable. Nice, even. But Jaehyun in the flesh, outside of the office, with nobody else around to buffer the strange sort of tension that seemed to always thrum between the two of you — that was an entirely different ball game altogether. Sometimes, a mere run-in was enough to have your heart going a little faster than usual, nerves lighting up at the unexpected sight of his face. 

“I am not above begging. Please don’t make me go to this thing by myself.”

And yet, there was a flicker of something pleasant and sweet, something akin to excitement that curbed the nervous flutter in your gut. You were fifteen again, waiting outside the movie theatre, a little too giddy at the thought of spending time with the boy whose sweet smile had become the cause of your stomach somersaults. And that was before you had even admitted to yourself that you liked him, as more than a friend. 

“What time is it?” you found yourself asking.

So maybe you were seriously considering it. You had been meaning to put that new film camera to use. The thing had been collecting dust in one of your drawers ever since you bought it on a whim one night scrolling through Pinterest. Somehow, the rows of tables and monitors in the office didn’t seem like the most interesting camera subjects compared to the scenes of concerts and beach bonfires that had driven your impulsive purchase. 

“Well, the doors open at 11, but the first performer is at 12. And Lauv’s set isn’t until later in the evening.”

“Lauv is performing?” Your voice had gone up almost an octave, but you couldn’t care enough to be embarrassed. This was a crucial piece of information. Now you had to be there. 

He laughed. “So is that a yes?”

“Yes. Yes, it’s a yes.” The covers were flipped off your legs in an instant.

It wasn’t that Jaehyun looked bad in slacks and a dress shirt. That was not the case at all. But you had grown used to them on him over the last few weeks, and the sight of his long legs in a pair of well-fitting trousers no longer caused a spike in your heart rate. 

Jaehyun in casual clothes outside the office was uncharted territory. 

The midday sun was strong outside the subway station. Clad in a black graphic tee over a pair of baggy green cargos, Jaehyun stood idly at the entrance, face hidden by the brown baseball cap on his head and eyes trained on his phone. How someone could look so gorgeous in something so ordinary was a secret only he knew the truth of. He caught sight of you from across the road, waiting for the pedestrian light, and raised his hand in a wave. 

“It’s different seeing you out of your work clothes,” he said. 

“Different good or different bad?”

A soft smile grazed his lips. “Just different. You look younger.”

“So do you,” you replied. 

You look like the boy I was in love with all those years ago. 

“Did you taxi?”

“No, I took the bus. There’s one that goes straight from my building. I didn’t know you lived around here,” you mused to yourself.

“My place is really close.” He pointed somewhere behind him. “Five minutes that way, tops. You should come over sometime.”

A slight pause. Jaehyun’s eyes flitted down to the pavement. You weren’t sure if the heat in your cheeks was from the sun or something else entirely. 

“Anyway,” he cleared his throat, “we should probably go. It takes 40 minutes to get there, so if we leave now we should be able to catch the 1pm.”

The subway on the weekend was nowhere near as awful as it usually was during the weekday rush hours, but packed nonetheless. You definitely preferred being stuck in a carriage full of bright-eyed and chattering teenagers than the usual crowd of solemn-faced office workers. When a seat finally freed up, Jaehyun was quick to offer it to you, manoeuvring himself so that he could stand in front of you as you sat down. Toe to toe, the tips of his shoes grazed yours, and you were suddenly reminded of study periods at the library. The two of you could never agree on who first started the game of footsie under the desk.

“See those girls over there?” you asked quietly, nodding towards a group of likely high schoolers down the other end of the carriage. Jaehyun turned his head to follow your gaze, catching sight of the girls who immediately erupted in whispers and giggles upon making eye contact with him. “They’ve been staring at you for the last two stops.”

He was quick to turn back towards you, nose scrunching and slightly embarrassed. “Kids these days are so weird,” he said with a soft groan. “Why are they doing that?”

“You know they’re only staring because you’re handsome.” 

Despite the pinkness of his ears, he was smiling wide. “You think I’m handsome?”

You blinked up at him. “I didn’t say that.” Did I? “I meant they probably think you’re handsome. Which is why they’re staring. You know. It’s nice to look at good-looking people.” 

The rushed explanations did nothing to shake the feeling that you had slipped-up somehow, and he had caught it. Jaehyun’s dimples only deepened at your backtracking.

“You know what I mean,” you finally huffed, biting back a smile at the deep sound of his responding laugh. “Whatever. I think this is our stop.”

The festival couldn’t have picked a better day to be held. The skies were clear and blue, and the air carried a light breeze that provided a welcome relief from the heavy stickiness of midsummer. It was a nice change from the sporadic rainstorms that had plagued the city over the last two weeks or so. Mark’s leaking apartment was proof of the temperamental weather. If you had one bone to pick, the sun was a tad strong, but that was to be expected. You had come prepared, tugging the bucket hat down further to cover your face. 

Alaina Castillo’s set was well underway by the time you and Jaehyun made your way into the venue grounds. A decent amount of people had already arrived, trickling in to fill up the gated area in front of the main stage. The two of you filed in with the rest, finding a place towards the back of the growing crowd where there was ample room to breathe without inhaling someone else’s breath. 

You had never been one for being stuck in a swarm of people. A harsh reminder of why that was the case appeared when, out of nowhere, a stranger’s elbow dug into your arm, knocking you sideways in their determined path towards the barricade. 

The steadying hand around your shoulder was instantaneous. 

“Are you okay?” Jaehyun asked, and you mumbled something affirmative in reply, trying not to dwell too much on the warmth of his skin on your bare arm. His eyes followed the stranger who was still pushing on through the crowd in front. “People really need to watch where they’re going,” he muttered, brows drawn together in a frown.

The rest of the afternoon proceeded more smoothly. It was a little unsettling how normal and nice everything felt. Jaehyun kept close to you for the sets that followed, the distance between the two of you gradually shrinking as the crowd grew in size. The occasional brush of your forearms as you moved to the music was no longer something to jump at like you had the first time it had happened. You managed to snap a few pictures on your almost-new film camera, mostly of the artist performing, but there was one of you in there somewhere amidst the stage shots, taken by an insistent and smiley Jaehyun during one of the set breaks. 

“So this is why you wanted someone to come with you,” you said, sliding onto the bench and passing him one of the burgers from the food truck.

“It’s so much more efficient when you can line up for two things at once. If I was by myself, I’d either wait for the beer and let my burger get soggy, or wait for the burger and let my beer get warm and flat. This way the food is fresh, and our drinks are ice cold out of the fridge.”

You cracked a smile. “And here I thought you called me because you enjoyed my company.”

“I do enjoy your company,” he said without missing a beat. “The other stuff is just an added plus.”

You took a sip of the cold beer, hoping it would stave off the quick flush of your cheeks. Jaehyun said things so easily. Too easily. It was harder and harder to adhere to that invisible boundary you had been so adamant on protecting. 

Why were you so reluctant to let him back in? Why all the walls? He made it too easy for thoughts like that to creep in and loiter in the back of your mind. 

Evening had begun to settle, the brightness of the midday sky fading away to a twinkling twilight blue over your heads. The music was quieter at the picnic tables by the tents, where festival-goers sought respite from the main stage crowds with a cold beverage and something greasy. Between mouthfuls of an early makeshift dinner, you and Jaehyun sat in your own bubble, comfortably falling into conversation about the performances throughout the day, or whatever else happened to be on your minds.  

“Your mouth opens so wide,” you said, watching as he all but inhaled half the burger in one go. His nose scrunched up as he tried to take the massive bite, and the sight of it was such a far cry from his usual cool guy image that you couldn’t pass up the opportunity to snap a picture of it. The click of the shutter had him looking up at you mid-chew with a dismayed expression.

“That’s not fair. You attacked when I wasn’t ready!”

“I’d hardly call that an attack,” you said, not without a smile. “I was just getting a candid.”

He wiped his fingers on the napkin. “Okay, my turn then,” he said, gesturing for you to hand the camera over. You obliged, letting him point the lens at you and fiddle with the knobs along the top. His slender fingers navigated the controls with a practised ease.

“Relax,” he added softly, noticing your fidgeting. Twenty-something years, and you had made little progress in mastering the art of posing for photos. “Pretend the camera’s not here, and it’s just you and me.”

Right. Like that was supposed to make you loosen up.

“I actually used to be really into photography. Got pretty good at it too,” he said.

“Really? I don’t remember that.”

“Picked it up in uni,” he explained. “Had all this free time on my hands and didn’t know what to do with it. Besides drinking.” A pause. “Honestly, first year second semester was pretty rough after… you know.”

The last part caught you somewhat off-guard. After that fateful April night, you had always assumed Jaehyun was off living his best life, blowing through society events with the new friends he had made, maybe even letting a few of them warm his bed now that you weren’t around. It wouldn’t have been the biggest surprise. Even at nineteen, Jaehyun’s good looks were uncontested. His sweet and attentive personality was the cherry on top of an already delectable cake. Whatever he got up to when the sun set, you were none the wiser, having completely wiped his existence from your phone by the time your first semester exam period rolled around. 

Though you didn’t go as far as to block his number, he never reached out, and so Jeong Jaehyun became a relic of the past, embracing his newfound freedom now that he had shed himself of you, his unwanted baggage.

Or so you thought.

“But yeah,” he continued, “I started getting into photography. Burnt a hole in my wallet trying out a bunch of different cameras,” he said with a chuckle. “I liked film the most though, I think. It’s the only one I still use now.” 

“What do you like about it?”

He took a moment, pausing in thought. “The colours, mostly. How it’s a bit muted, it has that vintage feeling.” You hummed in agreement. “Selfies on a film camera are fun as well.”

“You must really like looking at yourself,” you teased, enjoying the sight of his ears flushing with colour from where they poked out above the camera.

“Not like that,” he said in reply to the raise of your eyebrows. “It’s more like… when you take a selfie on film, you can’t see yourself, right? Whether the focus is focusing, or if the angle is right.

“Or if your whole face is actually in the shot, not just your right eye.”

“Exactly. But then taking the picture anyway. That’s what I like.” He pulled away from the camera to flash you a small smile. “Isn’t it funny, the way we try so hard to capture moments of time?”

Jaehyun’s attention returned to the viewfinder, leaving you to quietly dwell on his words. How else could one keep a piece of time stored away if not through photos? And yet, photography would never be able to capture the entirety of a moment the way a memory could. The sound of the band’s bass guitar from the side stage in the adjacent garden. The smell of summer carried by the evening breeze as it ruffled through his hair.

The warm feeling in your chest as you sat across from him at this wooden picnic bench, surrounded by people, sharing wistful conversation and a basket of fries. 

The feeling of coming home.

The shutter clicked.

“Got it. That last one is going to turn out so nice.” Jaehyun smiled triumphantly, cheeks dimpling. “If you make this your profile picture you have to add the ‘photo by’. I need my credits.”

You blinked away the precarious thoughts. “Alright, mister photographer man, give it back now. Don’t use up all my film before Lauv.”

He handed the camera back to you, looking very pleased with himself. The light from the nearby tents cast a dusky glow over his face. Jaehyun from Digital was sharp and polished. The Jaehyun before you now, with his hair dishevelled from taking off the cap earlier, was softer, more open, and more subtle in the way he had slipped under your defences and picked the locks chained around your heart. 

The question now was whether you’d let him in further than you already had.

He tugged at his collar. “God, it’s still muggy at night, isn’t it?” 

“You stay here, I’ll get us some more beers,” you said, already standing up.

If anything, you were grateful for the errand, a welcome distraction from the tumultuous battle between your heart and your head that always forged on at any thought of him. The line for the bar was no shorter than it had been half an hour ago, to nobody’s surprise (this was a festival in Seoul, of course the queues would be severe) and it was a while before the two cold plastic cups were in your hands. 

The short time away from him had given you the space to steer your mindset back onto the charted platonic course. A little voice in the back of your mind objected, and was making a damn convincing argument about why you should be more inclined to go beyond plain friendship with Jaehyun, but you chose to ignore it, suppressing the nagging with a deep breath and a smile that you hoped looked less conflicted than how you felt. Beers in hand, you carefully made your way back to the picnic table — only to be met with a rather interesting sight.

Jaehyun was still where you had left him, thankfully. But the two girls that now stood around him were a new addition. 

“Hey,” you greeted, tapping him on the shoulder to pass him one of the beers. The taller girl visibly deflated when he flashed you a grateful smile, taking the plastic cup from your hand. The shorter one, however, ran her eyes up and down your figure with an almost calculating gaze.

“Is this your friend?” the shorter one asked, question directed at Jaehyun.

“Uh, yeah, um—hi,” you answered very eloquently, introducing yourself. You tossed a glance between Jaehyun and the two girls. “Do you um—are you guys friends?”

“Well, no, not really. Minjeong and Jimin just came—”

“We were actually going to ask if you guys wanted to join us up closer to the main stage?” the shorter one (Minjeong perhaps?) asked, flashing a sweet smile you suspected was more for Jaehyun’s benefit than yours. “We have a blanket and a few chairs set up, so you can sit and watch the closing set. It’s much more comfortable than standing inside the barricade.”

“Jaehyun looked a little lonely by himself,” the taller one added.

Lonely because you left him for ten minutes to go get some cold drinks? These girls were unbelievable.

“What do you say? Want to join us?”

Maybe you should’ve taken the group of highschoolers on the subway earlier more seriously as a forewarning. Not that you had any say in what Jaehyun could and could not do — he was his own person, and the closest thing you had to a claim on him had disintegrated years ago. If he wanted to go hang out with pretty strangers, he could go and do exactly that, and you didn’t have to follow him either. The invitation had clearly been meant for him more than it had been for you.

So what if you had been looking forward to enjoying the last set together? You were a big girl. You could brave the main stage crowds by yourself if you had to.

Jaehyun glanced at you, searching your eyes while you tried your best to keep your face neutral and devoid of the uneasy thoughts bubbling away beneath your skin. He was his own person. He could make his own choices. 

After a second or two, he seemed to find what he was looking for, and turned back to the two expectant girls with a polite smile. “We’ll take our chances with the pit,” he answered. “But thank you for the offer. That’s kind of you guys.”

The two girls made their exit shortly afterwards, but not without a final look at him, and a decidedly less enthusiastic one at you. It was quiet for a few moments, the two of you sipping on your beers without a word, waiting for the other to speak.

“You could have gone with them if you wanted to,” you finally mumbled, eyes fixed on the contents of your cup.

To your surprise, Jaehyun let out a soft chuckle. “I don’t know if you noticed, but I’m pretty sure Minjeong had an engagement ring on her finger.”

“Oh, what?” 

You definitely had not noticed, too occupied by the saccharine looks she was throwing his way.

“Yeah. It was a pretty big diamond too. I think she must have forgotten to take it off today.”

You turned to look at him then. Jaehyun already had his eyes on you, sporting a lazy grin. “Come on, you can’t think I’m the type to mess around with married women?”

“That’s not what I—I didn’t know—”

“Don’t worry,” he interjected. “You’re still cute when you’re jealous.”

The quick heat rising to your face dispelled any of the remaining nonchalance in your expression. “I wasn’t—I’m not jealous,” you spluttered. “I was just worried—I mean, not worried,” you paused, sighing. “I thought you’d leave me.”

His eyes sought out yours, keeping them captive once they grabbed a hold. 

“I wouldn’t leave you.”

The teasing brevity to his voice had disappeared. Somehow, you had the feeling he wasn’t simply talking about the jazz festival. The sincerity in his gaze made it hard to look away, but you had to, in the name of self preservation. Too long staring into those brown eyes was an unnecessary test of the upper limits of your heart rate. 

“Maybe she came with her husband. He could be up there on that picnic mat, waiting for her.”

He laughed, throwing his head back. “Trust me, if her husband was here, she would not have been looking at me like that.”

To their credit though, finding a spot to watch the main stage proved to be rather difficult now that everyone had arrived to catch the final act. For a moment you considered leaving the pit to take the two girls up on their offer. But with Jaehyun by your side, you were able to navigate the crowds with a bit more peace of mind, his presence a solid and comforting anchor within the sea of people. A few rogue pushes here and there had you stumbling — and perhaps the two beers on a rather empty stomach were coming on faster than you had expected — but he was there, steadying you with a gentle hand around your arm, or the light press of his firm chest against your back.

And maybe you leaned into him for longer than necessary to regain your balance, but was that really a crime? To enjoy the touch of a friend? Was it a crime for warmth to pool in the pit of your stomach at the sight of him swaying along to Lauv’s Enemies?

No, the little voice in your head denied forcefully. Jaehyun grooving to the music had always been one of your weaknesses. 

As the closing chords of Paris in the Rain sounded out across the venue, you pulled out your film camera.

“Walking down an empty street.”

A gentle nudge of Jaehyun’s shoulder had him turning towards you, nose scrunched in a happy half-laugh from watching the performance. You moved to face the back of the crowd and raised the camera high, pointing it towards the two of you. 

Was the stage in the shot? Was Lauv? 

Were you?

“Puddles underneath our feet.”

Call it courage, or liquid courage, or just plain recklessness on your part. Rising up on your tiptoes, you pressed your cheek to his, and clicked the shutter button. 

The final chord of the song struck, softly, like an afterthought, and the crowd burst into appreciative hoots and applause, marking the end of the performance.

You were beaming as you turned back towards him. “Do you think I got that one?”

Jaehyun simply stared at you, lips parted and turned up slightly at the corners. He looked more caught off-guard than he had when you had told him you thought all the Cigarettes After Sex songs sounded the same. You felt the glowing smile on your face slip, little by little, as you let his eyes roam your features, gaze indecipherable. They flitted to your lips, and for a second you were sure you stopped breathing.

Just do it! Just fucking do it! screamed that little voice in the back of your mind.

And perhaps you would’ve done it too, whatever it was, if it weren’t for the shove from behind that sent you almost face-planting into his chest.

“What the hell?” you yelped, whipping your head around. 

What was with the people here today? You never thought jazz lovers could be so aggressive and insensitive to others’ personal space. Trying to find the perpetrator was a futile task, since the crowd had started to disperse following the end of the performance, moving in all directions.

Jaehyun looked over you with concern, the earlier expression on his face now gone. 

“Come on,” he finally said, fingers gently circling around your wrist. “Let’s get out of here before we get trampled by the crowd.”

Overhead, the blue-black sky that had been so cooperative for the whole day emitted a low rumble, as if to emphasise Jaehyun’s words. Sure enough, by the time the two of you arrived at the station, it had started to sprinkle. Perhaps the clouds had been holding back the rain until the very end of the festival. How considerate of them, you thought.

The ride back into the city felt shorter than the one to the venue, though it couldn’t have been. Saturday nights were even busier than the weekday rush hour, with people young and old out and about, ready to tame the weekend with sheer determination and a bottle of soju in the stomach. This time, there were no free seats in your carriage, but you didn’t mind. Standing with Jaehyun, your heads pressed together to go through the videos in his camera roll, made the time pass faster. There was something to his photos, you decided. Something in the angle, or the light, or the composition, that made them look nicer than the ones on your phone. Maybe you ought to take a photography course too.

The clouds may have been considerate enough for the festival to hold off dumping their contents during the day, but they certainly were not for the two of you tonight. Standing under cover at the subway station exit, you watched as the torrential deluge only seemed to worsen. Thunder cracked angrily through the air. It wasn’t July without the threat of flash flooding. 

“Any drivers around?” Jaehyun asked.

You gave a sad shake of your head. “Nobody’s picking up my request. Must be because of the rain,” you muttered. Overhead, the sky split open with a strike of lightning, startling you, and you jumped back a bit, further into the covered area of the exit.

“How about the bus?”

“I think I just missed one,” you answered, checking the timetable on your phone. “It says the next isn’t for another twenty minutes. But with the rain, it might be delayed even longer.”

You flicked through the taxi app, then the bus timetable app, and then finally back to the weather app, which you always seemed to forget to check on days like this. Three consecutive 100% signs stared back at you, and you let out a sigh. The sky would not be clearing up anytime soon.

“My apartment is only two streets down, if you want somewhere to wait out the rain,” he said.

You looked up at him. The smile on his face was guileless, but at the same time, there was something guarded about it, like he was expecting your rejection. Perhaps you had studied his face for too long, because then he was shifting his weight from one foot to the other, and averting his eyes to the ground.

“Or you don’t have to, we could just—”

“Okay,” you said.

His head shot back up. “Okay?”

You shrugged, a smile finding its way to your lips. “I’d rather not be soaking wet on the bus.”

“Okay,” he repeated, corners of his mouth turning upwards to mirror yours. “To my place, then.”

The usual five minute walk to Jaehyun’s apartment from the subway station turned into a two-and-a-half minute mad dash under the downpour. Despite your attempts at keeping to storefront shelters and ducking under the cover of big trees, the short trip had ended up with the both of you drenched to the bone, teeth chattering as you dripped rainwater all over his lobby.

You said a silent apology to the building cleaners. 

It was a relief to be dry again. Jaehyun’s sweats swamped you, the French terry fabric pooling around your feet as you sat on the couch in his living room. The top was no better, reaching almost to your knees, with the sleeves completely covering your fingertips. His clothes weren’t always this big on you. At least he still used the same pine-scented laundry detergent. 

The sound of the running shower blended smoothly with the raindrops pelting violently against the balcony window. You wrung your hands, unsure of what to do while you waited for him to come out of the bathroom. It was easy to feel out of place in a home foreign to you. The sleek furniture and minimalist colour palette of the apartment looked nothing like Jaehyun’s childhood bedroom. 

Maybe you shouldn’t have agreed to come to his place. While you were pretty sure he hadn’t invited you up with any ulterior motives in mind, there was still something ambiguous about being in your ex-boyfriend’s home and wearing his clothes. And only his clothes. 

You would have liked to keep your undergarments on, but they had also been soaked through. Going bare in these too-big sweats had seemed the less questionable option, compared to sitting with a wet patch around your butt and crotch. Heat flooded your face as you thought about your underwear and bra hanging on the heated towel rack in the bathroom. 

Whatever. It wasn’t like they were things he’d never seen before. And as for his clothes, of course you’d wash them before giving them back to him. 

It was then that you decided that you had enough of sitting around in a puddle of fabric and your own thoughts. Jaehyun’s living room wasn’t all that big, even if it felt roomier than your own, with enough space to fit a decently-sized couch and small coffee table. The tv on the far wall sat atop a rather large entertainment unit that, upon further inspection, also housed a record player and an impressive collection of vinyls. 

You padded over, eyes flicking through the various titles printed on the covers. One of them had been taken out from the shelf and sat splayed on top of the cabinet. Maybe he had meant to play it, or just forgotten to put it away. Slowly, you let a finger trace around the edge of the jacket and over the black lettering of the title. You’d recognise that white album cover anywhere.

Only you knew how much effort it had taken to source the thing, scouring auction sites and dodgy online stores until you finally bit the bullet and ordered it from a reasonable-looking seller with a 4.7 star rating. But it had all been worth it. The unadulterated joy on Jaehyun’s face as he undid the wrapping paper to reveal Frank Ocean’s Blonde was not something you could easily forget. Later, you found out that it had probably been a bootleg, since the official Blonde vinyls were a limited release, but he had hardly batted an eye when you broke the news.

“Still my favourite birthday present that anyone’s gotten me,” Jaehyun said. 

Dressed in a plain white tee and a pair of grey sweatpants, he leant against the bathroom door, surveying you with an easy smile. You must not have heard the shower turn off, the noise drowned out by the storm raging outside. His hair, still damp from the shower, hung over his eyes, and you watched as he brushed it back with his right hand, arm flexing with the movement.

The sudden flare in your lower belly was something you’d rather not feel, alone in these four walls with him, with nobody else around to witness or put a stop to whatever might follow. You’d like to think self control was something you had a firm grip on, but it seemed Jaehyun was made to put you to the test.

“Actually think it might be my favourite present ever,” he added, pushing off the door frame. He reached you in a few strides, maintaining a polite distance between your bodies.

“I didn’t even realise you still had this,” you murmured, letting him take the record from your hands. You tried not to flinch at the brush of his fingers against yours. “You didn’t even have one of these back then,” you said, lightly tapping the case of the record player.

“I changed my mind, actually. The turntable is my favourite present.”

An unfamiliar twinge of dread zipped through you. “Who gave it to you?” 

Could it be an ex-lover’s gift sitting on display in his living room? That did not sit nicely in your stomach.

“Myself.” 

He was holding back a laugh, eyes squeezed into crescent moons and too busy appreciating his own joke to catch the quick roll of your eyes. Instantly, your chest felt a little lighter, and the dread vanished as quickly as it had come on.

“Here, let me put it on,” he said, shuffling over towards you to lift up the case on the record player. With gentle fingers and a delicateness you didn’t see often, he unsleeved the record and carefully placed it on the turntable. A few fiddles with the side knobs and a precise adjustment of the needle arm later, the opening bars of Frank Ocean’s Pink and White filled the air of his living room.

For a minute, there were no words exchanged, the two of you simply content to enjoy the music as it filtered through the speakers. There was a quiet smile on Jaehyun’s face. You wondered if he, like you, was thinking of the last time you had listened to this album together.

The image of the two of you, sprawled out on his bed, sharing a pair of wired earphones, was hard to shake. It had been early evening, or nearly twilight. Sometime before sunset. The reflection on the ceiling of his childhood bedroom had changed along with the sky, until the only light left in the room was the dim blue glow from the laptop on his desk. At his mother’s call for dinner, he had gently shaken you awake, fingers light on your shoulder and against your cheek. 

Jaehyun was undoubtedly handsome in the light. But there was something about dusk and the softness of the shadows on his face that made him all the more compelling. You usually weren’t one to initiate, so the kiss you pressed to his mouth in the barely-lit room had surprised you both. 

Even now, the thought strangely sent a flood of heat to your cheeks.

“Sorry, did you want something to eat? I haven’t been a very good host.”

The grumble of your stomach answered before you could. You bit back an embarrassed smile, but Jaehyun was not so frugal with his amusement, letting out a short chuckle. Your feet followed him as he made his way to the kitchen. Perched on the marble countertop, you watched as he rummaged through the fridge.

“I have eggs, yesterday’s leftovers, and a shit ton of beer cans,” he announced. 

You exchanged a glance.

“Let’s do ramen, actually. That sounds better.” He bent down to dig through the pantry, pulling out two red packets, before moving back to the fridge and getting two eggs. “I can crack these in too, and—why are you looking at me like that?”

It was your turn to laugh, the wide grin on your face a contrast to the cautious smile on his.

“Are we having ramen?”

His brow creased a little. “I thought you liked ramen?” The innocent tilt of his head made him all the more endearing to look at.

“I do, but… did you really invite me back to your place… to have ramen?”

It took a few seconds for the ball to drop. You held back giggles as his ears flushed hotly, as they always seemed to do on the occasions you decided to indulge yourself and tease him.

“Come on, that’s not—you’re doing it on purpose,” he said, bottom lip jutting out with the suggestion of a pout. Despite his grumbles, the shape of his mouth slowly settled into a defeated smile at your visible glee of having flustered him. 

Jaehyun, soft-spoken and easy-going, was not the type to be easily ruffled. You excelled and enjoyed the challenge of it more than most.

“No,” he said once your laughter had somewhat subsided, voice low and velvety. “But I wouldn’t be opposed.”

And suddenly it wasn’t so funny anymore.

The silence that followed was a loud one. It was hard to ignore the way your mouth dried up at his words. Something warm and tingly spread from your stomach all the way down to your toes as you stood there under his level gaze, eyes drawn to his like magnets. He had to know. The effect his words had on you were surely plastered all over your face, obvious in the tight grip of your fingers against the countertop and the shortening of your breaths.

Jaehyun leaned in a little closer and you felt the inhale stick in the back of your throat. Then he cracked a crooked smile, pretty teeth all on display. 

“Don’t dish it out if you can’t take it.”

He moved away then, busying himself with pouring water into a pot and bringing it to a boil while you tried to blink yourself out of the daze. “Ramen okay?” he asked over his shoulder.

You cleared your dry throat, somehow finding your voice again. “Ramen is fine. Thank you,” you added after a beat. You took a deep breath, waiting for the rush of blood to drain from your face. 

Something sour settled in your chest — something akin to disappointment, though surely it couldn’t be. Disappointed that what? Jaehyun wasn’t actually sexually attracted to you? When you were obviously still attracted to him, despite all your attempts at convincing yourself you weren’t?

You scoffed to yourself. As if.

A quick shake of your head was almost enough to clear your mind, save for the remnants of that sour feeling that lingered. You asked if there was anything you could do to help, not wanting to simply sit around on your thumbs and wait to be fed. He had insisted you do exactly that, warning you there was only enough space in the kitchen for one, and assuring that there was nothing he needed from you besides patience and faith in his cooking. 

Patience you could give him. Faith was a little harder to muster, given your memories of the kitchen disaster from when he had tried to make okonomiyaki. 

The questionable, half-burnt half-uncooked taste was one thing. You finding random pieces of cabbage on the tiled floor for days afterwards was another thing entirely.

However, it seemed Jaehyun had improved from his old ways. The steaming pot he brought over to the coffee table not only smelled delicious, but looked the part too. You helped carry over the small bowls and chopsticks, along with two cans of beer, despite his requests for you to just sit and be ready to eat.

You took the first bite, blowing on the noodles to cool them down before slurping them into your mouth. All the while, he watched you, an expectant expression painting his face. 

“Wow. You’ve grown up, Jeong Jaehyun. Who would’ve guessed you’d become such a whiz in the kitchen?” 

He smiled, a bashful one at your compliment. “Being able to cook ramen is nothing impressive,” he said, digging in with his own chopsticks.

“There was no way you could have made this for me when we were 17. Look at this egg!” The centre was perfectly soft, not too runny, but not rock hard either. Just the way you liked them. 

You took another mouthful. “You’re a changed man,” you said. “Honestly, your place is a lot cleaner than I expected it to be.”

“That’s what living with four other guys will do to you. I had to learn how to clean out of pure survival,” he chuckled. 

“Was it really that bad?”

He grimaced. “You should’ve seen my dorm room. Basically a biological hazard.”

“They didn’t let non-students into the building. Your building RA was crazy scary, remember?” Even now you could remember the perpetual scowl of the law major when Jaehyun brought you into the dorm lobby.

“It was probably for the best. You would’ve broken up with me on the spot the second you walked through the door.”

You shared a laugh. Strangely, jokes about your break-up were light-hearted in their landing, the words leaving much less of a prickly uncomfortableness than you had been expecting. Perhaps it was still an event of importance in your life, but that cloudy unpleasantness you had come to associate it with had dissipated. It was a turning point, certainly. But so was graduation, and moving out, and travelling overseas for the first time. 

Your feelings about those things weren’t all bad. As you shared the pot of ramen and sipped on your beers, you realised, neither were your feelings about Jaehyun.

“I’m telling you, I was drinking Taeyong under the table. And I do mean that literally. He was passed out and laid across the stools.” He grinned, proud at the memory of beating his senior even five years later. You couldn’t help but grin too, amused by the sincerity of his expression and the way his shoulders set in accomplishment.

“Okay, okay. So now you’re a better drinker, you’ve gotten good at cooking, and you’re cleaner too.”

“And funnier,” he added.

“That one is still up for debate,” you joked, and his eyebrows furrowed together in mock offence. Digs at his sense of humour were not taken lightly. 

“Just because you don’t get my high quality gags,” he sighed, shaking his head. “You’re missing out.”

You nodded, making a noise of agreement if only to appease him. 

“What about me? How am I different?” you asked, voice curious. 

Jaehyun didn’t miss a beat. “Hmm, I think you got older?”

“Come on, I’m being serious!”

His laughter subdued then, surveying you thoughtfully. A quiet smile tugged at his lips when he spoke again. 

“You’re more outspoken than you used to be.” He paused, taking a sip from his can while trying to find the right words, all the while keeping his eyes on you. “You prioritise yourself more. And you’re more sure of who you are. You shine brighter, I think.”

Strange, how a person’s gaze could strip you down and make you feel so naked. There was nothing but earnestness in his eyes, plain and absolute, and the intensity of it was almost too much for you to bear. After all your time apart, Jaehyun could still see you, and see through you. 

I think you still know me inside out, and that scares me, you wanted to tell him.

Instead, you looked away first, tearing your eyes away from his with considerable effort. The pot of ramen on the coffee table, lukewarm now, was almost finished. The music had also stopped playing a while ago. Neither you or Jaehyun had bothered to get up and flip the vinyl to the other side, too busy eating. All that was left was the rain, and even that had faded to a soft pattering against the glass, following its own rhythm. 

Hastily, you stuffed a piece of kimchi into your mouth, for lack of anything better to do. The crunch of it in your mouth was loud, and you fought back a cringe.

“Did your mother make this?” you asked, hoping your attempt at diverting the conversation wasn’t so obvious.

If Jaehyun noticed, he didn’t show it, only nodding in confirmation. 

“She dropped some off last month,” he replied. “Remember how you told me her’s was better than your own mother’s?”

You let out a scandalised gasp. “As if I would ever say such a thing! Don’t let my mother ever hear something so blasphemous about her favourite daughter.”

“You’re her only daughter.”

“And you care too much about technicalities. Just because I’m the only one doesn’t mean I can’t still be the favourite.”

The crisp crunch of another piece of kimchi punctuated the end of your sentence. There was certainly something different about Mama Jeong’s recipes. If there was one thing you missed besides Jaehyun himself, it would have been his mother’s cooking. The woman knew her way around a stovetop better than a Michelin chef, at least in your eyes. 

You thought of her warm smile, and her even warmer embrace. Jaehyun had inherited many things from her, kindness being the greatest of them. Back then, she had been so sure of your future place in their family, welcoming you into her home as if you were her own daughter. You wondered where she stood on that now.

Still clinging onto that idea, perhaps, or were her sights now set on someone else?

“You’ve got something…”  Jaehyun murmured.

He reached across the table, over the pot and the small bowls, the movement quick and almost instinctive. Soft fingers found purchase on your left cheek. His thumb was gentle as it brushed away the stray chilli flake from the corner of your mouth.

Just the lightest touch against your bottom lip. And the warmth of his hand cradling your face.

Then he froze, as if to catch himself, but the damage was already done.

Jaehyun pulled his hand back with a start, an inscrutable expression across his face. He spilled a quick apology that you smiled away, putting on a composed front. At least, you assumed it was an apology. It was hard to hear anything above the buzzing chaos of your mind. The air filled with idle noise as the two of you shuffled in your seats.

“I should um—I should probably get going,” you mumbled, avoiding his eyes. The meal had long been finished. Your hands were already beginning to gather up the bowls and utensils into a stack for easy carrying. 

Jaehyun hummed, something akin to resignation in the noise. “Yeah, uh… I guess so.”

“Let me help you clean up first, and then I’ll be on my way.”

Despite his protests against you assisting with any kind of housework, there you were at the sink, helping him scrub everything nice and clean within the small space of his kitchen. Maybe he was right about there only being enough space for one person behind the counter. The aluminium beer cans went into their designated bins, and you made sure to wipe down the coffee table too.

This time, your half-damp, half-dried clothes found their way into a Byredo shopping bag — Jaehyun would rather die than not smell good — though your shoes still squelched rather uncomfortably when you slipped your bare feet in. By luck, you were able to book a taxi and could pass on the wet walk to the bus stop.

You thanked him again for bringing you along, noting that you probably got more out of the alleged ‘favour’ than he did. 

“Trust me, going with you made the whole thing so much better,” he said, both cheeks dimpling in your favourite smile of his. “And let me know if you need to get the film on your camera developed. I know a place.”

The ride home was flavoured by a sudden loneliness. Maybe it was the view of the city at night, or the absence of people out on the rainy streets, that had an empty feeling settle in your chest. 

Perhaps you should have delayed leaving his apartment. Perhaps you shouldn’t have left at all, and instead weathered the night away with Jaehyun on the couch, some slasher flick playing on the television while you shook under the blankets and tried not to scream at the jumpscares, like you used to. You never did understand why he liked horror films as much as he did.

Perhaps he’d slot his fingers between your own and give them a reassuring squeeze, and gaze at you with the kind of amused fondness he only ever reserved for you.

Heat flooded your face. As if you were entertaining the thought of spending the night at your ex-boyfriend’s place. And getting butterflies at the thought of holding hands? 

How embarrassing.

One thing was for certain. The walls you had put up were cracking, and there seemed to be little hope of patching them up.

“Will you stop messing with that thing?”

Jungwoo clicked his tongue against his teeth, fingers still fiddling with the ribbon on the gift bag. 

“It’s not straight,” he grumbled, pulling at the bow.

“You’re so pedantic.”

“It’s called being detail-oriented,” he fired back, leaning against the backseat of the taxi with a sigh.

You raised an eyebrow. “You say that like I’m not.”

“Well,” he trailed off, shrugging his shoulders. His mouth formed the shape of a smirk. 

You flicked a glance towards the rearview mirror, checking to see if the driver was paying attention to the two of you in the back. After verifying he was not, you landed a few (soft…ish) punches on Jungwoo’s upper arm, revelling in the shocked little noises he made, along with a few mumbles of ‘that actually hurts’ and ‘crazy woman’. 

How nice it was to let your hands fly without the threat of some other fifth floor witness reporting you for physical harassment. 

“I’m telling Joy the present is entirely from me,” you warned, turning around to face the front again.

“Right, except the card inside says my name too. So that’s not going to work.”

You reached into the gift bag, pulling out said card before rolling down the window. “Let me just throw this out.”

It was Jungwoo’s turn to deliver a light smack to your wrist. You dropped the envelope back in the bag, not without tossing an eye-roll his way. He knew just as well as you did that there was no real substance behind the threats — banter with Jungwoo was more for amusement than anything else. Deep down, you were quite fond of him, even if your actions tended to say otherwise, and you’d like to wager he quite enjoyed your company too. 

You couldn’t wait to get a few shots in him later tonight. Word had it he was a notorious lightweight. 

“Hopefully nobody vomits. I’d hate to be cleaning that up in my own house.” He shuddered at the thought. 

“Oh, don’t you worry about that,” you smiled sweetly, patting him on the shoulder. “You just focus on sticking to your limit, okay? I heard what happened at last year’s wrap up event.”

He bristled. “Nothing happened! It honestly wasn’t even that bad. I’m getting unfairly slandered,” he sulked. “I think you should stop hanging out with Joy so much.”

“Yeah, alright. Should we just skip her birthday party and turn the car around then?”

“Shut up.”

The taxi pulled up in front of Joy’s apartment complex, a tall modern thing with much bigger windows than your own building. And so much more glass, too. After splitting the taxi fare with Jungwoo, the two of you stood at the entrance, waiting for the intercom to connect. 

“Are you sure you pressed the right buttons?” Jungwoo asked, peering over your shoulder.

“Yes, of course. Apartment 814.”

“Maybe you should let me try.”

You let out a sigh. “It’s three numbers, Jungwoo. How is it going to be any different if it’s you pressing them instead of me? Do you think the keypad is going to magically—”

“Hello?” 

An unfamiliar male voice crackled through the intercom. “Are you here for Joy?” 

“Yes,” you and Jungwoo answered in unison. 

“Great, I’ll come down to get you guys now. Will only be a minute!” and then the line disconnected.

You and Jungwoo exchanged a glance. “Is he going to let us in?” you asked. 

“He literally said he’d come down to get us,” he answered flatly. “Do you not listen?”

“It was hard to hear him clearly with all the noise in the background,” you grumbled in defence. Hopefully Joy’s walls were thicker than your own, and her neighbours would not lodge a complaint halfway through the night.

The elevator doors slid open to reveal the face of the intercom answerer. It wasn’t detective work to match up the real thing to the pictures Joy would sometimes show you, though he looked taller in real life than he did in the photos from their weekend Jeju trip.

“Sorry about the wait, it was a bit hard to hear the doorbell,” he greeted, ushering you both inside with a warm smile. “I’m Doyoung, by the way.”

You and Jungwoo both introduced yourselves as you stepped into the elevator after him, to which he responded with a hum in recognition, and a knowing grin.

“Are you on door duty for the night?” Jungwoo asked.

Doyoung nodded, pressing on the button for the eighth floor. “It appears I am. She has her hands full with guests to entertain, so,” he trailed off, eyes glazing over for a split second, “you’ll see what I mean when we get up there.”

You had never imagined that a 2-bedroom apartment could fit so many people. Granted, it was nothing compared to the kind of parties you frequented during your university days where cheap spirits and green soju bottles lined the counter, but it was quite a distant cry from the gathering you thought it would be. Judging by the look on Jungwoo’s face, he had not been expecting this either. 

There had to be at least forty people. It almost made you wonder why she didn’t just book out a space instead of letting everyone invade her and her boyfriend’s shared home.

Doyoung made his exit rather quickly after letting you in, probably off to tend to one of his many other duties as unofficial host — poor guy was likely in for a very busy night — leaving you and Jungwoo to fend for yourselves in the entryway of the apartment. There was barely any room left in the tiled space for you to put your shoes.

How did Joy even know this many people? was the thought at the forefront of your mind as you helped Jungwoo stack his sneakers next to yours on a rack further down the hallway. Her present was left on a table near the entry piled with gift bags and wrapped boxes that you assumed was the designated drop-off area. 

Speaking of the birthday girl, you spotted her mingling in the living room and pointed her out to Jungwoo, though it was no easy feat finding her. The number of people, coupled with the dim ambient lighting, made it a challenge to recognise familiar faces. Joy, champagne glass in hand, was swept away in conversation with one of the most beautiful women you had ever laid eyes on. The gorgeous lady held a matching champagne flute in one hand, while the other was wrapped around the arm of—

“Junmyeon? What the hell is he doing here with that beautiful woman?” 

Jungwoo took the words right out of your mouth, a somewhat displeased noise making its way past his lips. You couldn’t help but echo the sentiment.

“Can’t believe this turned into a work function the moment we stepped through the door,” you all but groaned. “And here I thought having you around was bad enough already.”

You expertly dodged the elbow he jabbed into your side.

Joy spotted the two of you then, lingering by the kitchen, and quickly excused herself from the conversation to rush over. The champagne wobbled precariously in her glass as she approached, engulfing the two of you in a sweet-smelling hug.

“My little children! I’m so glad you could make it!” she cried, resting her chin in the space between your shoulder and Jungwoo’s. You exchanged a glance with the boy amidst the chorus of ‘happy birthday’s. 

There was a 77% chance she was drunk already.

“Had a little too much fun tonight?” you asked, helping to prop her upright again.

Joy only beamed in response. “All the more fun now that you two are here. My favourite fifth floor prisoners.” She gave your cheek a soft pinch.

“Quick question,” Jungwoo began, “why is our manager in your house?”

“With his arm around a beautiful woman way out of his league?” you added, swatting her fingers away from your face.

“That’s my sister Irene,” she said, like it was common knowledge. 

You raised an eyebrow. “Since when did you have a sister?”

“Okay, well not my real sister,” she amended, hurriedly waving off your words. “She was a senior in my department. I was really close with her back in university, so, basically my sister. I think we look pretty alike, honestly.”

“And her relation to Junmyeon is…?”

Joy threw a conspiratorial glance around before leaning in, beckoning the two of you closer. This time, a few drops of the champagne did manage to escape via the side of her glass, narrowly missing Jungwoo’s white socks.

“I set them up. On a date!” she whispered, eyes glinting with pride. Why she chose to whisper when it was already hard enough to hear her above the noise at her normal speaking level was beyond you.

You blinked at her a few times. “You set up a goddess like that… with our manager?”

Joy waved another hand dismissively. “Oh, please. Like Junmyeon’s not handsome too. You only think that because you’re too used to seeing him frown and squint at a monitor.” 

You cast a glance in his direction. Maybe she was right. Junmyeon did look somewhat more like a human without his glasses and the semi-permanent lines etched into his forehead. He even looked (dare you say it) quite nice. But maybe it was the poor lighting that made it seem that way.

“Anyways, it’s been about… two months now? I think they look pretty good together,” she mused, following your gaze. 

Junmyeon must have said something funny — a rather loose use of the word by your standards — because Irene had her lovely face scrunched up in a laugh, the pitched sound of it ringing out clearly above the noise of the apartment. In her amusement, she even threw a hand out to slap him lightly on the arm, which he appeared very pleased by.

Sure, you laughed at his jokes too, but it was more out of corporate self-preservation than actual amusement. 

“He kind of has been in a better mood recently,” Jungwoo said thoughtfully.

Joy grabbed his hand with fervour. “Yes, exactly! See? Thanks to my sacrifice, we can all enjoy a nicer, much more pleasant office environment.”

“I’d hardly call that a sacrifice,” you chuckled. “You take too much pleasure in playing matchmaker.” Joy’s response was nothing more than a guilty smile, followed by her emptying the rest of the glass.

It was then that you heard it — the deep, reverberating laugh that always bordered a little bit on breathlessness. It was slightly unnerving how quickly you could pinpoint the sound of his voice without even seeing him, or knowing that he had entered the room. 

You turned around first, eyes drawn to the entry hallway in search of the face to which the laugh belonged. Of course he was going to be here. You knew that. He had said as much two days ago, bidding you farewell across the cafeteria table with a promise to ‘see you on the weekend at Joy’s’.

Lunch with Jaehyun had recently become a rarer occurrence. From what he told you, and the bits of information you gleaned from Joy about Digital, Johnny had pulled Jaehyun onto his team to try and get a firmer grip on the reins not even two weeks ago. Already, the intensity of the new workload was obvious.

You certainly saw him less, much to your disappointment — you could admit that to yourself now.

Jaehyun emerged from the hallway then, midway through another laugh with an arm slung around Doyoung’s shoulders. Funny, how all the other faces were so murky and hard to identify under the dim lighting. And yet, the shape of his dimpled smile was unmistakable to you, as bright as the beacon of a lighthouse on the midnight sea. 

Doyoung scanned the room, catching sight of Joy with you and Jungwoo. He gestured at his girlfriend, and Jaehyun obediently turned in your direction, likely wanting to give his greetings to the birthday girl.

Your eyes locked, and your heart gave a woeful little squeeze in your chest.

“I’m just going to do a quick check on the drink inventory,” Doyoung said as they approached, “I’ll be right back. And please take care of my favourite guest.” With a final friendly pat on Jaehyun’s shoulder, he was off, ducking into the kitchen. 

“Happy birthday!” Jaehyun beamed, arms circling around Joy in a hug which she enthusiastically returned. He grabbed Jungwoo’s hand, pulling him in for one of those man greetings. (Since when were they close?) Their apparent friendship was an unexpected development. 

And then it was your turn. You wondered if it was as easy for others to find solace in a mere gaze as you did with Jaehyun. His eyes did not stray far, wandering around your face, something tender and comforting in his appraisal of your features. A hand came up to brush against your lower back, a gentle and quiet greeting against the excitement of the previous two. His lips pulled into a soft smile as he called your name in greeting. 

“You two are ridiculous,” Joy scoffed.

You inhaled sharply. Was it really that easy to tell? The depth of your attachment?

“You planned this, right? I mean seriously, matching outfits?” she asked, gesturing at you and Jaehyun.

You blinked a few times, looking down blankly at yourself. The dark wash denim and white silk that you had picked out yesterday looked back at you familiarly. Then you glanced at Jaehyun, taking in his white t-shirt, half tucked into a pair of jeans that were exactly the same wash as yours. 

The coordination was completely unintentional — you had no idea what you were going to wear tonight the last time you had spoken to him — but the look on Joy’s face told you there was no use in trying to convince her of the truth. 

(You would’ve argued that the cowl neck of your white silk top elevated your outfit above Jaehyun’s plain white tee, but you digressed.)

“Okay. I’m done with this,” Jungwoo said, throwing his hands up in defeat. “I’m going to do what single people do, and that is to get a goddamn drink.”

“Me too, another bubbly,” Joy chimed, grasping onto Jungwoo’s arm as he turned to leave for the kitchen. “See my success rate? Let me set you up with someone. My hairdresser’s daughter went to Korea University Business School and graduated not too long ago.” 

The rest of her appeal to play matchmaker for Jungwoo was swallowed up by the music and chatter of her guests. And then it was just you, and Jaehyun, and the thirty other people filling up the living room. 

The two of you shared a glance before dissolving into a few light giggles. 

“I do think I pull it off better,” you teased, giving Jaehyun another once-over. He was as handsome as always, the white cotton draped picturesquely across his lean frame while the dark jeans made his mile-long legs look even longer. He could wear a garbage bag and make it look couture. 

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that,” he said with a crooked smile. 

He raised his arm to reveal the denim jacket draped across his arm that you hadn’t noticed before, too busy making sad little googly eyes at him that you hoped other people couldn’t see. The jacket was coloured in the same wash as his jeans, and your own. 

You gave a scandalised gasp. “No, a matching set? How am I supposed to beat that?”

“You can’t. You can only admit defeat to the double denim. I out-Justin-Timberlaked you.”

“Justin Timberlake is not a verb.”

He only grinned in response, teeth pearly and eyes sparkling as he took in the slight pout of your mouth. 

“Whatever,” you conceded with a wave of your hand, though a smile crept its way onto your face. “You win. Let’s get something to drink.”

Jungwoo and Joy were nowhere to be found when the two of you made your way to the kitchen. What you did find was an impressive selection of bottles atop the marble counter, a selection that easily outdid the ones from your university days in both quality and variety. 

At least one thing was the same. Green soju bottles were always a dependable presence. 

“Shall we go for your favourite?” Jaehyun asked, holding up what looked to be a bottle of wine. You moved a little closer, peering at the label through his fingers.

“I do enjoy a good red,” you replied, accepting the glass he offered you with a quiet ‘thank you’. You took a small sip — because tonight, you felt no need to gulp down alcohol like a camel to ease your nerves — before adding, “Merlot is far from my favourite though.”

“Really?’ He raised an eyebrow. “I do seem to remember how you pretty much finished a whole bottle by yourself. At dinner, that time at the Italian place.”

You held back a wince at the recollection of that fated blind date. Of course he’d remember that. It would be hard to forget the way you all but sculled down three full glasses in the time it took him to finish one. A quick sideways glance revealed the slight upturn to the corners of his mouth, paired with a telling glint in his eyes. Jaehyun was teasing.

“It was honestly quite impressive,” he said, lips curling into a full-blown smile now.

“That was different,” you said. The next sip went down a little faster than you would have liked. “That was out of necessity.” 

There was no way I could’ve made it through that night without alcohol in my system, you almost said, but caught yourself just in time. 

A few seconds passed before either of you spoke again.

“Were you really upset to see me?”

Gone was the playful lilt to his voice. This question was asked softly, carefully, the sound of it so delicate you were afraid it would shatter in the air at your clumsy reply. Slowly, you turned to look at him, seeking the reassurance you were sure you could find in his eyes, but they had moved to the contents of his own glass. You followed their path, watching as he gave the liquid a few absent-minded swirls.

“Maybe. A little, I think,” you admitted. “I don’t know. There was a lot going on in my head that day. When I realised it was you.”

A pair of giggling women — Joy’s guests who you didn’t know — approached the counter, one of them tentatively reaching for something in front of you. Noticing her struggle, you shuffled slightly towards Jaehyun, trying to make some space around the counter. The one with her hand outstretched flashed you a grateful smile, which you politely returned, although with far less vigour. 

Perhaps the bustling kitchen in the centre of all the foot traffic wasn’t the best place for a conversation like this.

There was some fussing with the bottle cap, or whatever it was that they couldn’t quite get to work, followed by a considerably clean pour for two people who were clearly not quite sober. Then they were gone, giggling the entire way out of the kitchen and freeing up the space around you.

If you wanted to, you could have stepped back and returned to your original spot before their arrival. Put some more distance between you and Jaehyun again. Not that you were seriously encroaching on his personal space, but it was enough for you to recognise the proximity.

Instead, you took the smallest of steps closer and placed a hand on his forearm. His eyes flitted down at the touch, taking in the way your fingers lay feather-light on his skin, just above the ridge of his wrist. 

“I’m glad it was you,” you said. The words were true, but the honesty of them still tasted odd on your tongue, and you fought back a cringe. Jaehyun finally turned to meet your eyes, some semblance of hope, or maybe it was relief that coloured his expression. “And I’m glad we’re here, now,” you added.

You hoped he knew you weren’t talking about the far right corner of Joy’s kitchen.

Jaehyun smiled, and it was like the sun had finally risen up over the stark mountain peak, bathing everything in a warm, golden glow. It was the kind of warmth you didn’t realise you craved until the full force of it spilled over you, washing away the blue and the cold. 

“Me too,” he said softly.

Even if you hadn’t fallen victim to Joy’s schemes, you would like to think the two of you would still end up here, only via longer and slightly different routes. Perhaps an unexpected run-in in the lobby on a Tuesday morning, or the eventual and excruciatingly awkward introduction through Joy. Whatever it may have been, you’d like to think you would’ve found your way to each other again eventually. 

Curiosity tickled your mind. “What about you?”

“Hmm?”

He was still smiling, the lines by his nose just visible, and he had his eyes on you, though there was a faraway look about them. Something about his gaze reminded you of the way you’d regard a painting, framed and hung up on a wall in some art museum — carefully examining the details of the brushstrokes against the canvas, yet all the while trying to hold the whole piece in your mind’s eye, and let it touch the surface of that primal emotion somewhere inside of you. The depth of his gaze was enough to make you self-conscious, and you quickly averted your eyes, taking another sip from your glass. It was a good excuse to school your features before you spoke again.

“How did you feel when you saw me? Were you upset?”

Jaehyun regarded his own glass wistfully. “Not exactly upset, no,” he began, though a movement in his peripheral had him trailing off. 

Another of Joy’s guests had appeared, hovering beside the two of you with his eyes set on the bottle of whiskey directly in front of you. Politely, Jaehyun side-stepped away from the counter and wrapped a gentle hand around the bend of your elbow, guiding you out of the hectic buzz of the kitchen. It stayed there, warm and comforting, until you found your way back to the open space of the living room, and even then he was slow to let you go, fingertips lingering a just second too long before they retreated back to his side. 

“I think I was surprised, more than anything,” he continued. “Didn’t really know what to expect, not that I was expecting much. I never even thought I’d get to see you again after university. Thought you were gone for good.”

He paused, one side of his mouth quirking up slightly. The movement was small, and you wondered if you were supposed to have caught it at all.

“You stood there, with your bag in one hand and your cardigan in the other, looking like you were waiting for me to spontaneously combust—”

“Okay, I’m sure it wasn’t that bad.”

“—and all I could think about was how you were even prettier than I remembered. And back then I already thought you were the most beautiful girl I had ever seen.”

At that, you were quiet. Whatever silly rebuttal or attempt to defend yourself died quickly on your tongue as you let his confession settle beneath your skin, warming it from the inside out. Jaehyun was not even one bit fazed, looking like he had just said something trivial about the weather, or stated some objective fact like ‘grass is green’. For him, honesty had never been the heavy, cumbersome challenge it was for you. Judging by the resigned smile on his face, he wasn’t expecting some grand response from you either, which was all the better, because god, what were you supposed to say to something like that?

“Oh, there you are,” came a voice from behind you, followed by a hand on your shoulder. 

Joy’s timing was impeccable, as always.

“Sorry, this one is coming with me,” she said to Jaehyun, looping her arm around yours with half-drunken determination. “Us fifth-floors have some business to settle. With darts.”

Your eyes followed the direction of her outstretched arm, where sure enough, there was a dartboard hanging on the wall by the balcony. Jungwoo was there, standing obediently with his hands crossed in front of his stomach as he politely nodded along to whatever Junmyeon was animatedly saying. The beer bottle Jungwoo cradled, now forgotten, seemed more like an accessory than an actual beverage. He caught your eye and sent you a frantic look.

You whipped your head back to Jaehyun. “Please don’t let her take me.” 

Surely, he could see the pleading, the desperation in your eyes.

Jaehyun, having witnessed the whole exchange between you and Jungwoo, only grinned. “It does sound like some serious business,” he said, cheeks dimpling. Joy made a noise of agreement and gave your arm a little tug.

“You’re more than welcome to come and spectate, Jaehyun,” she called out over her shoulder as she herded you towards her destination. His only response was a hearty laugh. You stared at him in despair as you were towed away by the birthday girl. Next time you’d invite his boss to the function.

The game of darts (or seven games, if you were being precise) was decidedly less awful than you had expected. Junmyeon had promised not to speak about work and by some miracle, actually stuck to his word. Maybe you even got to know the guy a little better, outside of his office habits like the specific order in which he drank his three teas everyday (yuja, then chamomile, and lastly peppermint). Like you, he was somewhat of a wine enthusiast, though his knowledge of French vineyards was far superior to yours. 

By the third round, the game had clearly left your little work circle. Jaehyun joined in at one point, competitiveness getting the better of him. Doyoung tried his hand too, and he was honestly abysmal, but smiled the whole time and seemed to be enjoying himself, even if he had to pick the darts off the floor on every turn. Out of all the players over the course of the seven games, Junmyeon’s date Irene had been the most unexpected hidden card, scoring three bullseyes in a row. 

Oh, to be a goddess and have perfect hand-eye coordination. 

“You feeling okay?” you asked a rather blank-looking Jungwoo. His eyes were beginning to droop, and so was the rest of his body, long limbs sprawled out against the leather. You could swear he only had his initial bottle of beer and the two celebratory soju shots Joy had forced him to take (from which you were not exempt either), and yet here he was, half-asleep on the couch.

“Hmm,” was his eloquent reply.

The party was slowly drawing to a close, the living room much emptier now than it had been when you first walked in. Junmyeon and Irene had made their departure some twenty minutes ago, and there were only a handful of guests left, most of them getting ready to leave as well. Grown adults didn’t gamble with their sleep schedules. 

Doyoung emerged from the hallway, running a hand through the mess of hair on top of his head, already tousled from the fifty or so times he had repeated the action throughout the night.

“Okay, she’s knocked out,” he sighed. On his face, you glimpsed the first sign of relief you had seen all night. “I don’t think she’s going to puke, but I left a bucket by the bed just in case.”

You flashed him a grateful smile. “Thank you for tonight. I can’t imagine it was easy having to wrangle all these people for so long.”

“Oh, it’s no big deal. As long as Joy’s happy and had a good time.” 

Even though he was clearly exhausted, Doyoung smiled, and the fondness held within it felt like a private thing you shouldn’t have witnessed. Your mind went, now as it always did, to a certain dimpled smile.

“I’d better get this one home,” you said instead, gesturing at Jungwoo slumped on the couch. You turned towards the boy, patting his shoulder gently. “Come on, time to go.”

“Mmffh.” 

Another brilliant and enlightening response.

The owner of your favourite dimpled smile stepped out from the bathroom to the sight of you struggling to get Jungwoo upright enough to loop an arm around your shoulders. The half-asleep boy was lean, but definitely heavier than he looked, or perhaps the few glasses of wine over the course of the night had sapped some of the strength from your body. Jaehyun was at your side in an instant, shouldering most of Jungwoo’s weight as the two of you dragged him to a standing position.

“I’ll come with you,” he said, no room for discussion in his tone. You had no mind to protest anyway. 

Doyoung was already busying himself with clearing plates and glasses from the living area when Jaehyun bid him farewell. The guy seemed to have formulated a detailed plan of attack to get his apartment back to the no-doubt spotless state it had been prior to tonight.

“I sorted out most of the empty bottles so you should be able to just throw them out in the morning,” Jaehyun said over his shoulder. He crouched on the ground, guiding Jungwoo’s disobedient left foot into the correct shoe, carefully doing up the laces once both feet were inside their corresponding sneakers. 

You tossed a glance back at Doyoung whizzing around the place like a Roomba, feeling a pang of guilt for not having done much to help him clean up. Even though you had been a much more gracious and tidy guest than other people in Joy’s company, you couldn’t help but feel like there was more you could’ve done, apart from babysitting a very not-sober Jungwoo and making sure he didn’t crack his head open on the corner of the coffee table. 

“It’s fine,” Jaehyun said softly. You turned to look at him, half-surprised, and he only flashed you a small smile. “Doyoung likes to clean. I think he finds comfort in it.”

He was fluent as ever in your micro-expressions. Maybe one day you’d learn to stop being surprised by it. 

The taxi back to Jungwoo’s place was shorter than you had expected. His head lolled between your shoulder and Jaehyun’s in the backseat, before finally finding a home in Jaehyun’s lap. Even when you finally tucked the younger boy safely into his own bed — after going to great lengths to extract his building code which involved a series of profuse apologies to his neighbours who you had mistakenly rung in the middle of the night — there was an impressive imprint on his right cheek that exactly matched the side seam on Jaehyun’s jeans. You could’ve sworn there was a small, wet patch of drool left behind on the denim, and you were sure Jaehyun himself had noticed it too, but he gave no indication of complaint.

“Are you far from here?” Jaehyun asked once the elevator had brought the both of you back down to Jungwoo’s lobby.

“I’m actually just a fifteen minute walk away,” you answered.

The invitation in your voice was silent, and you knew he would’ve accompanied you home even if you lived on the other side of the city. Still, some achingly pleasant emotion settled over you when you heard his footsteps fall in with yours against the pavement. He took his place between you and the open street, shielding you from the bustle of late night delivery bikes and club bound taxis.

Though the days still resembled summer, nights were when the beginnings of autumn could reveal itself. The slight chill in the air was not unbearable, but still noticeable against your bare arms, and just enough for goosebumps to spring up on the skin there. Before you could even bring your hands up to wrap them around yourself, Jaehyun shrugged off his jacket and wordlessly draped it over your shoulders. 

“Thanks,” you mumbled, drawing the collar close around your neck. The stiff denim was a little rough, but warm from his body heat all the same, with faint traces of his woody scent lingering on the fabric.

Jaehyun thrust his hands in his pockets and grinned. “Now you out-Justin-Timberlake me.”

“Still not a real word.”

You supposed there was something about night-time that made it feel all the more forgiving to the emotional afflictions of the human condition. Perhaps it was only against the muted palette of the midnight blue sky and the dimly lit city streets that you felt brave enough to face the truth of your feelings, without agonising over the consequences of acknowledging them. Even so, you found yourself wishing the night would stretch on for just a little longer. Honesty always seemed to wear off faster than it came on.

“You’ve been crazy busy lately.”

Jaehyun’s responding laugh contained little amusement. “Crazy busy is one way to put it. I can’t believe Johnny has had to deal with all of this the whole time. This client is so,” he paused, trying to find the right word, before finally settling on “demanding.” The look in his eyes gave you the feeling there were many other more colourful adjectives he wanted to use instead.

The two of you passed the convenience store corner of your street. Your place was not too far up ahead, the glass building doors almost visible if you squinted. The night was coming to an end, and something cold and heavy settled in your chest to accompany the realisation.

“They want us in New York working on the new client site as soon as possible, so we’ve been running around trying to get visas and everything sorted,” he sighed. 

Your footsteps faltered. 

“You’re going to New York?” you asked. 

He nodded. 

“When?”

“Within the next week, if everything comes back approved.”

You hadn’t even noticed that you had come to a standstill until Jaehyun’s footsteps also slowed to a stop. The both of you stood like that, under the dim glow from the streetlights, in the middle of the sidewalk. 

“We’ll probably be there until the end of the year, at least until the design piece is done,” he said. 

Did your face betray the sudden drop of your stomach? Did the sound of a fissure cracking through your chest escape through the slight parting of your lips?

It was silly, really. That one small piece of information could turn your entire world on its head. International travel on a project wasn’t a rare occurrence. And you supposed you would’ve found out sooner or later, even if he hadn’t told you, because he had no obligation to update you about every development in his life, even if they involved crossing continents. Even if you wanted to know every little detail. 

Jaehyun’s eyes moved from his shoes to your face. The shadows cast by the streetlights made it hard to decipher his expression, but you thought there was a pleading look to his handsome face. What he was pleading for, you weren’t entirely sure. 

You cleared your throat and finally found your voice again. “That’s really exciting, Jaehyun,” you managed, trying to keep your tone light. “I hear New York is gorgeous this time of year.”

The smile you pasted on your face was a flimsy one, and you could feel your top lip begin to tremble when he didn’t quite return it. Before it could turn into a grimace, you let the corners of your mouth fall. There had never been any use in putting on an act in front of him. Unsure what else to say without sounding insincere — though you were excited for him, truly, this little fit of sadness was a silly thing that would pass surely and quickly — you turned and resumed your steps towards your apartment. 

Another few minutes and you’d be in the safety of your own home. Free to let your top lip tremble and quiver, and let the inexplicable lump in your throat force its way out, rather than try to swallow it down.

It only took a few steps for you to realise that Jaehyun had not followed. You looked over your shoulder to find him standing there by the streetlight, eyes fixed on the ground again. 

“I don’t want to go,” he said, toeing at a crack in the concrete. “If I didn’t have to, I wouldn’t. I don’t want to leave…”

You.

He may not have said that last word, but you heard it all the same. Your chest squeezed with emotion you couldn’t quite place.

“But you have to,” you said softly. A gentle breeze blew through the early autumn air and you briefly wondered if your words had been carried adrift.

He looked up at you then, eyes burning into yours with unspoken sentiments. A thousand words were conveyed with that one look, those few seconds in which you understood everything he wanted to say, and nothing he wanted to say, because he hadn’t said much at all. Just like how he could read your emotions with a simple glance at your face, you saw his reluctance. You saw the irresolution in his resolve, and how it wavered as he turned over in his mind the things he wanted to say to you, and how much of his heart he was willing to risk. 

“But I have to,” he agreed. 

Jaehyun still knew you inside out, yes, but you knew him too.

Your feet dragged over the last few hundred metres to your apartment complex, until you finally reached the door and there was nothing left you could do to delay the inevitable.

“Here,” you said, handing his jacket back to him. “Thank you for walking me home.”

He took it from your outstretched hand, fingers just brushing your knuckles. “Of course.”

And maybe Jaehyun was just as unwilling to let you go. His feet stayed firmly planted on the concrete pavement in front of your building, even though you were pretty sure no harm would befall you across the five steps into the lobby. The two of you stood there for a while, neither quite knowing what to say, or how to ward off the odd melancholy you knew he felt too.

There were so few guarantees of forever in life. You knew that. And even if you had never really gotten him back in the first place, you couldn’t shake the feeling that you were losing him again. Except this time, he wouldn’t just be a 67-minute subway ride away. This time, he’d be a 14-hour flight away, on the other side of not the city but the world, with 7,000 miles and the entire Pacific Ocean separating you. 

And yes, he’d come back eventually, but who could promise that the feelings between the two of you now would be the same upon his return? You knew that you were in no position to demand he refrain from exploring other romantic pursuits, to deter him from making new connections in the diverse metropolis that was New York City, and all the excitement and energy that came with it. 

You had unknowingly gotten in the way of that once.

“Well, I’d better get inside,” you said quietly, gesturing at the building behind you. Jaehyun only nodded.

This was it. All things must come to an end, you thought as you walked up to the lobby door. Even if they never really started. Perhaps you and your hesitance to let him in had played the biggest part of all, and whatever it was between you and Jaehyun wouldn’t be ending before it began if you had only been more forgiving at the start. Less pointy and disagreeable. Perhaps then you would be parting now on more certain terms, and you’d carry some peace of mind knowing he’d be coming back to you, instead of the crushing weight of disappointment currently lodged underneath your sternum.

And yet, what difference did it make? You’d be losing him anyway, no matter what you did. In two weeks’ time, he’d be sitting in a conference room on a different continent, regardless of whether you said nothing or cussed him out to his face right now.

Your hand froze on the steel handle for only a second before you turned around to face him again. Three determined strides was all it took to close the distance between you. 

“What is it?” he asked.

There had been few occasions where you had seen Jaehyun drunk, or at least not sober, in the years you had known him. Your split early on in university had not afforded you many chances to witness his supposedly high tolerance in action at weekend benders. Nothing more than a few underage sips snuck from his dad’s glass at the dinner table. You took a second now to look at him, really look at him, taking in all the details of the face you knew almost as well as your own. 

Pink. Everything about him was so pink, from the slight tinge around the whites of his eyes, to the lingering flush in the apples of his cheeks.

To the pretty colour of his soft, full lips. 

They parted with confusion when you approached. Carefully, you reached out a hand and placed it against his cheek, feeling the way he leaned into your touch almost immediately. His eyes fluttered shut for the briefest of moments before they were searching your face again, almost fervently. 

“I just…” you whispered, trying to commit this picture of him to memory. 

What difference did it make?

It was hard to tell who moved first. You’d like to believe it didn’t matter.

The rhythm of your lips against his was unfamiliar at first, clumsy from years of disuse. Through slow and careful movements, you reacquainted yourself with the shape of Jaehyun’s mouth, the pillowy swell of his bottom lip as it gently slid in between your own. It fit there perfectly, like it always did. His hands came up to graze the curve of your waist, resting lightly on your skin as if he was afraid you’d crumble like sand in his grasp. 

You tilted your head, parting your mouth ever so slightly to let the tip of your tongue brush against the underside of his top lip. The kiss changed immediately. You felt his surprise in the small puff of air that escaped through his nose and landed softly against your cheek. His fingers gripped at you with a newfound strength, pulling you flush against him. Even through the fabric of your shirts, the outline of his toned chest was unmistakable. Your hands found their home in the softness of hair at the nape of his neck, revelling in the throaty sound that left him as you ran your hands through it. 

How had you denied yourself of this for so long?

Jaehyun must have pulled away first, because suddenly you could breathe again, shaky gasps coming in and out through your mouth. He fared no better, pressing his forehead gently against yours while he tried to catch his breath.

You couldn’t think. You felt electrified, as if every nerve ending in your body was simultaneously firing, as if your blood was laced with dynamite. Hell, you had half a mind to invite him up to your room and finish off what you had so brazenly started.

“It’s late,” he finally managed, voice rough. “You should head in.” His hands, however, stayed firmly in place around your waist. You watched as his Adam’s apple bobbed up and down with each swallow.

Right. Perhaps it was best to let the night end here, before you could do anything else that you might regret. 

“Yeah, I should probably,” you murmured, catching the way his eyes followed each movement of your mouth as you spoke. The sound of your voice seemed to break the daze he was in, and you felt his grip on you loosen, slowly and reluctantly. The arms you had looped around his neck made their way back to your sides. You were released from his warmth far too quickly.

Impulsive decisions (like inviting your ex-boyfriend to spend the night in your one-bedroom apartment with nowhere to sleep except in your bed) seldom ended well. You should’ve known better than to make those rookie mistakes.

You had barely turned around to walk up to your building doors when Jaehyun wrapped a warm hand around your wrist and pulled you back into him. He pressed his lips to yours, swallowing the small noise of surprise that left your mouth. This time, his kiss was softer, surer, and in it you tasted the sweetness of unspoken promises he was determined to keep. 

“I’ll see you when I get back,” he said, dark eyes fixed on you with conviction. Your lip colour had smudged by the side of his mouth, leaving behind a faint pink stain that only added to the pretty hue of his now kiss-swollen lips. 

He was still the most gorgeous person you had ever seen. 

“See you when you’re back, then,” you echoed. 

Some odd emotion, neither happy nor sad, settled in your chest as you pushed open the door to the emptiness of your home. You had rushed to the window, hoping to catch a glimpse of Jaehyun before he left, only to find he had gone already, and the sidewalk outside your building was as vacant as to be expected for this hour of the night.

No matter. You’d wait for him to come back. 

“One more prosecco before he disappears to the bathroom for the rest of the night.”

You cast a glance at the catering table and clicked your tongue against your teeth.

“Half a prosecco,” you concluded, taking a sip from your own glass. 

Joy raised a shapely eyebrow at you. “You know it doesn’t hit until at least twenty minutes after he gets the munchies.”

“True, but he specifically told me he skipped lunch today so it would hit earlier, and he’d have the energy to mingle.”

“Well,” she shrugged, “I guess that’d do it.”

The two of you turned your gazes back to the catering table, where Jungwoo was doing some serious damage to the salmon ceviche tostadas. The glass in his hand was empty, and you watched as he asked for a refill from one of the waitstaff.

“Someone should really stop him,” Joy sighed. “Before we get a repeat of last year.”

“Someone should,” you agreed.

Neither of you made a move.

As far as year-end wrap-up events went, this one wasn’t too bad, even if it was your first at the company. This year, HR had managed to book one of the smaller function rooms at an upscale hotel, with an open bar and hors d’oeuvres menu to match. It was a nice chance to celebrate the year’s achievements, and get to know the other people in the department a little better. Already a year in this place, and you’d be lying if you said you knew the name of every person on your floor.

September to November had flown by in a blur. Recruitment for the company’s graduate program next year had been an intensive few months of screening, interviewing, reviewing, and then interviewing again. As hectic as it had been, the fruits of your team’s efforts had been warmly recognised with smiles and praises from the senior managers and higher-ups you’d had the chance to speak with tonight. 

Traditionally, each department hosted their own event, though from what you gathered, HR and Marketing were the only ones that put in any real effort. While HR liked to keep things classy, Marketing liked to go all out.

“Do you think it’s true that Marketing rented out a yacht this year?” you asked. Surely their budget wasn’t that excessive.

Joy made a face. “God, I hope not. It’s the middle of December. I’d be surprised if the Han River wasn’t all frozen over.”

Winter had come early this year, sinking its cold fingers into November and staking its claim. Yet, there had been no snow, even though it was only a few days out from the holidays. Though it was nice that your clothes stayed relatively dry all day from the lack of precipitation, you couldn’t help but miss the sight of the city covered in a blanket of white softness. 

“There he goes,” Joy said, nudging your arm. You turned to see Jungwoo excuse himself from the conversation, setting down a barely-touched glass on the tablecloth. He made a beeline for the men’s restrooms, or as close to a beeline as he could manage in his current state, face flushed and a little queasy.

It was a good thing the company’s holiday closure started tomorrow.

“Okay, you win. Want to come and get a refill with me?” she asked. “We can say hi to a few of the directors over there.”

The thought of having to network with more seniors, when you had already spent the last hour and a half donning bright smiles and laughing politely at their lacklustre jokes, was not a pleasant one. You knew it would be a good thing for you to go and introduce yourself, but your battery for social interaction had long since been depleted. Perhaps you should’ve taken a page out of Jungwoo’s book.

Still, you flashed Joy a grateful smile. “You go ahead. I might grab some air, actually.”

“Okay,” she replied, eyes warm with understanding. “But make sure you put your coat on. It’s freezing out there.”

She was right, of course. The toasty interior of the function room was a completely different world from the frigid gust of wind that greeted you as soon as you pulled the sliding door open. An upscale hotel needed to have a matching upscale view of the city. You leaned against the balcony railing, blocking out the icy sting of the metal against your hands, and took in the sight of the not-quite-frozen Han River below, and the sparkling Seoul Tower further away on the skyline.

You’d only be out here for a little bit, you told yourself. Just a few minutes, and then you’d head home.

Truthfully, you could have left half an hour ago when your reserves for socialising had just run out, and be within the warm and familiar confines of your own bed right now, doom-scrolling to your heart’s content. But these days, the solitude of your apartment that you had once found comforting had evolved into a loneliness that you’d rather avoid. 

The empty echoes of your own footsteps across the tiled floors didn’t bounce against the walls like deep laughter did.

Absent-mindedly, you thumbed at the pendant sitting at the hollow of your throat. You had turned your jewellery box inside out, almost fully convinced that you had lost the thing entirely until you finally spotted the milky pearl set in white gold, underneath all the other chains. It was gorgeous when you had first opened the velvet box all those years ago, and it still was now, even if you hadn’t seen it for quite some time. Jaehyun always had an eye for beautiful things.

You weren’t the only one who endured a few packed and chaotic months. Johnny’s team had flown out of the country the Wednesday after Joy’s birthday and had been sequestered in New York ever since. Between your swamped schedules and the 14 hour time difference, conversations with Jaehyun were intermittent at best, and sparse and uncoordinated at worst. Sometimes he’d message with silly little things, like the time he sent you a picture of a doll sitting in the window of an antique shop.

this reminded me of you, the accompanying text had said.

He was due back soon, and there was still much left to be said, but above all, you only hoped that he was well, and that the New York winter was much more forgiving than it was here at home.

The cloudy wisps of air formed by your breath floated upwards before they dissipated into the night sky. No wonder the balcony was empty — who would want to be out here when there were mozzarella stuffed mushrooms and central heating on the other side of the glass?

You heard the doors slide open behind you as someone else equally as crazy decided to step out into the cold. Just as well. It was time for you to head back anyways. You turned to make your way inside, only to freeze in your tracks.

“They told me I’d find you out here. You really know how to pick a spot, huh?”

A soft gasp left your mouth.

“Jaehyun?”

He gave you a smile, your favourite smile, where his dimples were only just visible, and there was the hint of a pout to the shape of his lips. He was here, and he was in front of you, looking at you like you were the most wonderful thing in the world that he would ever have the good fortune of knowing. Your chest swelled almost painfully at the sight of him.

“When did you get back? How did you even get in here?”

“We landed in Incheon earlier this afternoon. I had to pay the door guy outside a hundred bucks for him to let me in.”

Your eyes widened. “He can’t make you do that!”

“Just kidding,” Jaehyun chuckled. “I only had to show him my company ID.”

He walked over to where you stood by the railing and rested his arms against the metal. His profile was sharp against the darkness of the night sky, and you took a moment to study the details while he took in the view. 

“Are you tired?” you asked. “It can’t be easy adjusting to the time difference.”

“A little,” he admitted. The bags under his eyes were dark and purple now that you could see his face up close. He must have been exhausted. Nobody ever slept well on long haul flights. “You should see Johnny though. He would have come tonight, but jet lag is seriously kicking his ass.”

You shared a laugh, traces of your breaths mingling in the air. Beside him, you settled back into your original spot, mirroring the way he leaned against the metal railing. Jaehyun was close, but not too close, your elbows only a few centimetres apart. A mellow silence settled over the balcony as you gazed out at the river, watching the never-ending stream of cars as they circled the waterfront. 

With even this, you were content. His mere presence next to you was a remedy in itself, regardless of the words shared or touches exchanged. You felt more at home in this moment now than you had in over 3 months.

“I’ve missed you,” he said, still gazing out into the distance. The gravity in his voice hinted at circumstances beyond the recent season he had spent on the other side of the world. And yet, he had said it so simply, as if the words were an immovable truth that would withstand the corrosion of time.

“I’ve missed you too,” you replied.

Maybe it was just that simple, because it was the truth. The nights weathered away in your own apartment were only lonely because there had been an absence of him, an absence that was known to you, even if you had not felt it for many years.

He turned to you, taking in a shaky breath. “I should never have let you go.”

“Oh, Jaehyun—”

“I was young, and foolish, and I thought I knew what I wanted. And I had you, but I thought I wanted more, because I wanted everything. I wanted the whole damn world.”

Something sharp pricked behind your eyes as you listened to the honesty pouring out of him.

“And then I lost you, and it was—god, it was… like someone had sucked all the colour out of my life. And I had no one to blame, because I was the one who did that to myself. To us.”

It was so hard to not notice the pain etched into his beautiful features. The tight set of his jaw. The redness that rimmed his eyes. Your fingers ached to reach over and smooth out the crease between his brows.

“There were so many things I could have done to make things right between us again. Even if you wouldn’t have me back. But my pride, and my ego… I did nothing—”

“You can’t pin it all on yourself, Jaehyun,” you said, shaking your head. “I had no idea what I wanted. And even when I did, I never acted—I never stood up for myself. I could’ve fought for us, but I didn’t. I just accepted everything. Hell, I never even told you how I felt.”

You flashed him a watery smile. “We needed the time away from each other, don’t you think?” 

There was a moment where the two of you simply stared at each other. A hurricane of repressed emotions swirled in your chest, finally breaking the surface five years on. Jaehyun must have felt the same, reliving all those memories now. You could see it on his face.

Youth was so beautiful, and precious — even the heartbreak, and all the other foolish things that came along with it. 

“I let you go once, and maybe that was meant to happen.” He took a step closer. “But we’re not dumb teenagers anymore. I’m not… I won’t make the same mistake twice.”

His eyes locked on yours as he gazed at you with reverence. “Don’t you still feel the same? Even after all these years?”

I do, you wanted to say. 

You would have too, if it weren’t for the small speck of white that landed in Jaehyun’s dark hair. It was visible for only a few seconds before melting away. You looked up and sure enough, the night sky was dotted with white.

“First snow,” you breathed, watching as the snowflakes fell from the sky. “Do you know what that means?”

Jaehyun gave you a small shake of his head. Of course. He never believed in superstitions.

You reached for his hand, feeling his fingers respond to yours immediately. He was so warm, and his touch breathed life back into your frozen body.

“If you see the first snow with someone you love, it means that your love will be true and long-lasting.”

A few seconds passed as he took in your words, trying to make sense of them.

“You… love me?”

“I do,” you admitted. A teardrop finally spilled out from your waterline, leaving behind a wet track on your cheek that stung in the cold. “Even when I thought I hated you, deep down, I think I still loved you.”

One of his hands came up to wipe away the trail of moisture from the escaped tear. The action sent a shiver through your entire body.

“I never stopped loving you,” he confessed softly, stroking your cheek. You felt it then, that deep, aching feeling that had threaded itself into the very marrow of your bones. 

Longing. You longed for his presence, his smile, his touch. You longed to hold his heart in your hands again, and give him yours in exchange. You had missed him more than you could bear, and here he was, telling you his heart was where it had always been, sitting in the centre of your palm. 

Perfect moments didn’t exist, but damn did this one come close.

“Come here,” Jaehyun whispered, pulling you into him. 

His mouth was just as sweet as you remembered. His lips were a little rougher, slightly chapped from the cold. His kiss was slow and patient, taking his time to explore the shape of your mouth and mould to it again. You felt his smile, the slight tension in his bottom lip giving him away, and you couldn’t help but reciprocate, a quiet giggle bubbling in your chest before escaping through your lips. 

“I really fucking missed you,” you mumbled against his mouth, another giggle accompanying the words. “You kissed me and then you were on a plane to the other side of the world.” 

“I told you I’d see you when I was back, didn’t I?” he reminded, giving your waist a small squeeze. “And for the record, you kissed me. Not that it matters.”

You swatted a hand against his chest. “I see you still care too much about technicalities.”

Jaehyun only laughed, that deep and familiar sound you had craved to hear for the last 3 months. He pulled your hands into his warm ones, and pressed his lips to your knuckles. 

“Your hands are cold,” he murmured, wrapping his fingers around yours. 

“Well, I was about to head back inside when you found me. It’s nice and toasty in there.”

“Do you want to go in now?”

You looped your arms around his neck and buried your head into the crook of it. “Let’s just stay out here for a little bit longer,” you said, words muffled by the fabric of his coat. “You always run hot in the colder months anyways. Enough to keep me warm.”

He hummed in agreement, holding you flush against him as the snow fell around you. In his arms, you were the most at ease you had been in years, and the thought was almost enough to bring a fresh new wave of moisture to your eyes. 

“What is that—something’s digging in,” he suddenly said, pulling away from you. His eyes landed on the pendant that had slipped out from underneath the lapels of your coat. Wordlessly, he reached for it, running his thumb across the pale pearl that hung from your neck. 

“You kept this?” 

“Of course,” you answered. “You kept yours.”

He smiled, a big one, dimples marking his cheeks. “Of course,” he repeated. 

“We’re lucky, aren’t we? To have found each other again after all this time?”

Jaehyun’s reply took the form of another sweet and unhurried kiss. It warmed you from the inside out, all the way down to the tips of your toes.

“So we’re really doing this, right?” he asked. “We’re giving us a second chance?”

You raised an eyebrow. “Are you telling me you said all that earlier just for shits and giggles?”

“Of course not,” he chuckled, squeezing your sides again. “I just wanted to make sure. I think I might lose faith in the world if you tell me you don’t want to be with me.”

“You have nothing to worry about,” you reassured. The snow was sticking to his hair, and you took a second to run your hands through it, brushing off the half-melted pieces. His eyes fondly followed your every movement.

“Good, because I plan on keeping you for a long time.”

You returned inside shortly after. The snow had picked up and it was clear that you couldn’t stay out for much longer (unless you wanted hypothermia, which neither of you did). The function hall was much emptier now than it had been when you stepped out, and of the remaining faces, none of them were familiar. 

A quick glance at your phone showed a few unread messages from Joy. 

joy [08:32 pm]: hey, had to leave, doyoung’s still working tomorrow so it’s an early night for me joy [08:33 pm]: hope you and jaehyun work things out joy [08:33 pm]: i’m rooting for you guys!!

joy [08:37 pm]: also can you see if jungwoo is okay joy [08:38 pm]: i don’t think he’s come out yet

“Can I ask a favour, just before we go?”

Jaehyun smiled back at you sweetly, devotion written in his eyes. “Anything.”

“Pop into the men’s room and check if Jungwoo’s still alive?”

Life was a funny thing. 

“There are so few things in life that are guaranteed. Death, for one, and taxes, for another. Sorry if that was a bit dark and killed the mood. You can laugh, by the way. But I think everyone here would agree, neither of those two are all that conducive to happiness.”

Roundabout. 

“So when the girl you’ve been chasing, for what feels like an eternity, finally gives you a second chance, you absolutely cannot take it for granted. You grab onto that chance with both hands, and even your teeth if you have to. It’s no guarantee for happiness, but it’s your best bet.”

Unpredictable. 

“I’m not a God-fearing man, but I’m a God-believing man. I thank God everyday for bringing such a magnificent woman into my life.”

He raised his glass. 

“Joy, you make me the happiest person in the world, and I can’t wait to be married to you.”

The crowd broke into warm applause as Doyoung finished off his impromptu speech by planting a kiss on his bride-to-be.

“He’s so good at talking,” you mused, wrapping your arm around Jaehyun’s. “If that’s his toast for this, I wonder what his vows will be like.”

A year ago, you would never have believed that you’d be attending your co-worker’s engagement party, much less with your ex-boyfriend who you hadn’t seen in 5 years. Spring had well and truly arrived, and with it came promises of love and new beginnings. The last rays of the April afternoon sunlight filtered through the windows of the riverside art centre. The venue was gorgeous, floating on the edge of the river with unobstructed views of the skyline and where it met the water — as always, Joy knew how to pick a spot.

“I didn’t know she rejected him before they got together. He must have really liked her.”

Jaehyun gave you a crooked smile. “Four years of university, and he never gave up. Even when she started dating that blockhead from liberal arts.”

“I bet he would’ve felt like the luckiest guy in the world when she finally said yes to a date,” you said, watching as the happy couple shared a moment, giggling about something nobody else was privy to. Jaehyun followed your gaze and made a small noise of agreement.

“Not as lucky as I am to have found you again.”

He ran his thumb across your knuckles. You could’ve sworn there was stardust sprinkled into those pretty brown eyes of his.

Life was a funny thing, for sure. It had a funny way of bringing back things you once thought you had lost forever. You knew now that you had to seize them before they passed by. Who knew if they’d ever turn up again?

“Okay, that’s enough.”

Jungwoo set his glass down on the table with a loud thunk, lightly startling you.

“I’m right here. You guys know that, right? I am right in front of you.”

A sheepish smile was thrown his way. “Sorry.” You patted his hand once, softly. “Your time will come, I’m sure of it,” you reassured. “How did the date with the KU Business girl go?”

“I flaked,” Jungwoo said simply.

“No! Why?”

He sighed. “Blind dates are really not my thing. It’s too awkward. And it feels so superficial. Like, what if you have nothing in common, or there’s no physical attraction, or—” 

Jungwoo paused, cutting himself off. “Actually, I’m not talking about this with you people. I’m going to get another drink.” With that, he turned and headed straight for the cocktail bar. You and Jaehyun gazed at him from behind as he walked off.

“I’m gonna be babysitting him again tonight, aren’t I?” Jaehyun asked, the question directed at nobody in particular.

“People are going to start wondering if you’re dating me or him.”

His mouth curled into a smirk. “Should I give them a reminder?”

“My boss is standing right over there, so no.”

Junmyeon and Irene were still going steady, to your surprise. You’d probably be seeing more and more of him, since Joy and the rest of the Parks genuinely treated Irene like one of their own. The thought wasn’t exactly a pleasant one, but not awful either. Maybe you were warming up to him.

“Also, you should probably be careful about who you call blockhead,” you said to Jaehyun, holding back a smile.

He fixed you with a suspicious stare. “And what’s that supposed to mean?”

“You know,” you trailed off, gesturing vaguely at his head. The smile broke through, your cheeks lifting as you tried to keep the laughter from coming out. He, on the other hand, was thoroughly unimpressed.

“You should really watch your mouth,” he said lowly, though he was smiling. There was a look in his eyes that sent a jolt straight to the pit of your stomach.

“Or what?”

His hands were all over you before you even made it through the door.

“My beautiful, gorgeous, sexy girlfriend,” he mumbled, peppering your neck with kisses between each adjective. The keypad finally beeped and you pushed down on the handle, letting the door swing open as you pulled him in by the collar.

“Stop talking and just kiss me,” you sighed, dragging his face back up to yours. He was all too eager to comply, mouth slotting over yours with practised ease. His tongue brushed along yours in the way he knew you liked, pulling your bottom lip into his mouth with just the right amount of pressure. Fire licked at your insides as he drew a light moan from you.

Four months in, the second time around, and everything with Jaehyun was still electrifying.  

Your hands fumbled with the buttons on his shirt, finally succeeding with undoing the top one after a few tries. Hands came up around the back of your thighs, lifting you up onto his kitchen countertop. The marble was cool to the touch, and you felt it through the silk of your dress, a soft gasp of surprise flying from your mouth into his awaiting one.

“Been wanting to do this all day, ever since you put this thing on,” Jaehyun rasped. The heat of his body radiated into you from where he stood between your parted legs. He was so warm up against you, and he smelled so good, you were positively light-headed with desire.

His mouth ghosted over the shell of your ear, sending a shiver through you. “You look so fucking good,” he said, teeth gently grazing the skin of your neck. “My pretty girl.” The quick press of his hips into yours pulled another moan out of you, and you braced a hand against the marble countertop.

Your fingers knocked against the edge of something sharp and sent it tumbling to the floor, where it landed with a heavier thud than you were expecting.

“What was that?” you forced out in between gasps. Jaehyun’s teeth nipped at your collarbone, showing no signs of letting up. “Wait, Jae, something fell on the floor.”

You had smashed a mug in your apartment in the midst of it once. Better safe than sorry.

Reluctantly, Jaehyun detached himself from you and bent down to retrieve the fallen item. He was breathing hard as he picked up a thick, padded envelope, and flipped it over to read the details.

“Photos,” he finally managed, tossing the package back onto the counter. “We can look at them later.”

His mouth was on you again, working at the spot between your neck and shoulder that always had your knees weak and toes curling. 

“Wait,” you giggled, “my film photos? I want to see.” He had sent the camera off almost two weeks ago, and you had been (im)patiently waiting for the developed pictures to be sent back. 

Jaehyun looked up at you with hooded eyes. “Really? You want to look at them now?”

You nodded. 

A beat passed before his face broke into a lazy smile. 

“Okay,” he chuckled softly, reaching for the envelope again. 

There was a good stack in there. The ones on top were more recent, with a few shots from his birthday that had recently passed. You had taken him ice skating at the outdoor rink atop Namsan Mountain. The twinkling lights that hung from the trees surrounding the rink were still beautiful, even through photos. Jaehyun was good at so many things that it was unfair — how could he be so talented and have a face like that? — but on that day, you discovered that ice skating was not one of his strengths, and the bruises on his tailbone could attest to that. 

“The colouring on these is really nice,” you murmured, flicking through the photos.

He hummed. “They are. This place doesn’t over-saturate the images, which is why I like them.”

A few more pictures from Christmas, where the two of you had set up a pillow fort — it had always been a childhood dream of yours — and stayed in watching movies for three whole days because it was too cold to do anything that required leaving the house. Funnily enough though, you had spent New Year’s Eve out in the cold with a few thousand others, waiting for the annual fireworks. There were a few shots of those as well. 

You neared the bottom of the stack, recognising the blur of colours that formed the crowd of the jazz festival from last year.

“All of these are out of focus,” you complained, a pout adorning your lips. The shots of the stage, of the artists, even the one of Jaehyun and the cute face he made trying to fit the burger in his mouth. Only the two pictures of you were crisply defined, because he had taken them. 

You flipped to the last photo. It was the one you took at the end of the show, during the closing bars of Lauv’s set. Miraculously, this one was in focus. You could see the press of your cheek against Jaehyun’s, and the slight surprise in his eyes as you had clicked the shutter. Lauv was nowhere to be seen, but maybe a clear shot of him as well would have been asking for too much. 

“Can I say something cheesy?” Jaehyun asked softly. 

“You’ll say it anyway.”

“I really wanted to kiss you. On this day.”

Strange, that it was these words which brought heat to your cheeks. Surely there were other things that would be more appropriate to blush about, instead of a months-late admission that was degrees more innocent than your current situation, where Jaehyun’s shirt was half undone, and the fabric of your dress was bunched up around your hips. 

“I wanted to kiss you right there, in the crowd. And then I wanted to kiss you again, here, when you made that stupid ramen joke. And when you had that chilli flake stuck on the corner of your mouth.”

You set the last photo down on the counter and turned back to Jaehyun, who was still standing between your knees. 

“And how about now?” you asked, the corners of your mouth lifting in a teasing smile. 

He cradled your chin, tilting your face towards his, and let the pad of his thumb brush over the swell of your bottom lip. 

“I think you already know the answer to that.”

The crescent moon was high and luminescent in the sky when you caught your breath again, the last few waves of euphoria ebbing away through your body. Jaehyun always indulged you.

Maybe a little too much. 

You turned to him, nestling your face into the crook of his neck and breathing in the scent of soap and his skin. A finger lazily traced over the ridges of his stomach. 

“That tickles,” he mumbled into your hair. It must’ve still been damp from the shower, but he didn’t seem to mind. Fatigue was already tugging away at him. 

“Do you want me to stop?” you asked softly, looking up at him. 

He shook his head, just slightly. “I like knowing you’re there.”

You resumed your movements, but it was only a few seconds before Jaehyun was shifting, soft laughs filling the intimate space of his bedroom.  

“That really does tickle,” he said, smile threaded into his voice. One of his hands reached for yours, pulling it up to rest against his chest. The gentle press of his lips on your forehead was a delicate thing. 

You fell asleep like that, feeling the steady beat of his heart, quiet and sure beneath your fingertips. It was warm in his hold, and safe. There was no other home you needed to know.

[leclarifies]

off the grid - IV

✰ max verstappen x !driver reader ✰

summary: you strived for nothing but perfection. nothing less was expected from you. being a female formula one driver made it even harder for you to make mistakes. you figured that dating max, your biggest rival yet, wasn't a mistake...right...?

genre: kinda slow-burn? mostly angst, eventual fluff at the end.

wc: 3k

a/n: short chapter bc i wanna focus on the pure fluff in the next chapter, this is just an insight on what happened between the two of them and how they reconciled, hope you like it!!!!! mixed a lil smau in there too

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"i don't know what to do, i'm stuck in a loop, stuck in a loop. i don't know what to do, 'cause i fell in love with you." - chase atlantic, 'you'

"you look like shit," was the first thing lando said when he saw you, you blow him a raspberry and a stink-eye. you raked your hand through your hair as you exit your apartment, he had asked you to go to dinner with him with the other drivers and somehow, even with your big wage, you still didn't have a car so you needed to catch a ride with someone.

"thanks, i think the lack of sleep is finally getting to me," you say as you turn around and close the door behind you, locking the apartment door.

"you haven't been sleeping well?" lando asked curiously, now piqued by interest when you talked about your lack of sleep.

"no, i've been sleeping like shit and my performance is like shit and everything is like shit and all i want to do is sleep but i can't sleep. so cheers to me being a female formula one driver, right?" you asked lando sarcastically as you both started walking to the elevator.

"okay well... before the sleep problem, you've been doing well right? so why don't you go to the doctor and get some... sleeping pills or whatever?" lando asked as he pressed the button to the elevator, putting his hands in his pockets once he was done.

"mate, what the hell do you think i've been doing? i've been popping those pills like it's candy. it's not working," you huff, tonight was not something you were looking forward to. human interaction with more than one person drained your limited energy.

"maybe it's anxiety then?" lando suggested as you shrug, you didn't know what it was. you knew the root of the problem though, but you weren't going to share that with lando.

"fred is going to fire me at the end of this season, i can feel it," you heard the elevator ding and the doors open, it was an empty elevator thankfully.

"that's not fair though, checo's been having two shit seasons in a row but he's not getting fired by red bull," lando commented as both of you get in the elevator, and you shrug once again.

"ferrari is not red bull and checo isn't a female driver—"

a hand stops the elevator doors from closing and you see a familiar dutchman emerge from the doors opening.

"ah max! you live in the same building as y/n?" lando smiles politely at max, those two don't have the friendliest relationship but since the fiascos that happened in 2024.

max smiled at lando and flashed you a quick but polite smile as well, "ah yeah, i live across from her. did she not tell you that?" max asked as he entered the elevator doors as it finally closed, you didn't say anything. your eyes not even on the dutchman but on the doors behind him.

"well she never mentioned it, you're invited to the dinner as well right?" lando perked up when he realized that max did in fact live across from you, you just wanted out of this elevator for once.

"yes, which is why i'm also in this elevator with you, lando," max laughed before the three of you settled in, the elevator ride was short as you reached the basement floor where lando's car was parked and you assumed that max's was there as well.

after a moment of silence and exiting the elevator, max speaks up again, "why don't you guys ride with me? save some gas. i'll drive you home lando."

fuck.

lando had taken the back of max's valkyrie, wanting you to feel comfortable in the front, but what he was oblivious to was the tension between the two of you.

thank god the ride was quite short, you could've died from the tension if that car ride was any longer than ten minutes.

exiting the car was easier than getting inside of it, max's car keys was handed off to valet as the three of you walked inside of the restaurant.

"i think i'm gonna go to the toilet first, you guys go right ahead," lando announced, quickly rushing over to the toilet before you could protest.

your timing is so shit, lando...

max took the opportunity to talk to you, grabbing your hand before you had the chance of even entering the private room the drivers booked.

"can we talk?"

you turned to look at max who was holding your wrist gently, his blue orbs were clouded with something— you couldn't put your finger on it. he just looked so pitiful and sad.

"talk about what?" you ask as you gently tugged your wrist from his grip, crossing your arms in front of your chest. you were full expecting him to rub the issue in your face, that you needed him somehow to keep with your performance.

"you know what i'm talking about, don't act dumb," max looked away and glanced at the private room, knowing that this conversation will soon end after lando rejoins the two of you.

"i don't know what you're talking about," you shrug, feigning stupidity as you turn back around. thankfully max lets it go for now and lets you both enter the room with no more interruptions.

you're met with a table filled with energy, drivers, wives and girlfriends alike cheered as you guys entered the room, all with smiles and greetings.

you smiled politely and greeted everyone as best you could even with your limited energy and conversed with the others.

you were bracing yourself for a eventful night.

you had told everyone that you would retire early and max piped up if you wanted a drive home, but you opted for a walk instead. you wanted to clear your head. then again, the streets of monaco was quiet in the middle of the night.

somehow you found yourself at the start of where the track would've been if it was race week.

you imagined the race cars, the grumble, the cheers, the noise from all the things happening when it was race week.

you remembered the way people screamed when they found out you started on pole that week, the way the headlines wrote itself when you fought hard to get where you were. after two hard and long years in f1, you finally found your breakthrough.

"first woman to win a driver's championship with ferrari"

"first woman to take pole in formula one"

"first woman to score points in formula one"

"first woman to lead a championship"

first woman.

it was etched into your soul.

that monaco win was much needed for your self-esteem. you finally told yourself that maybe you deserved the ferrari, that you clawed your way to the top and you were deserving of all of these titles the fans gave you.

it was short-lived of course, all the other races afterwards were all individual pieces of shit that you couldn't control. whether it was having to do lico because of your overheating engine, or your inability to focus because you felt so tired, everything was going to shit as you reached the end of the season.

you knew the reason why, it was the night terrors that couldn't seem to stop and it made you be too scared to sleep, even with how tired you were.

you just couldn't bring yourself to fall back asleep.

but you knew that if you had just spent one night sleeping at max's—

no he's mad at you. you can't find comfort in him anymore.

your feet naturally followed the track, turn 1, turn 2, turn 3, before you knew it, you were almost back where you started.

it was a good walk, reminiscing of your win in monaco. it was an exhilarating experience, you would've retired right then and there if you could.

suddenly you feel someone following you, but you were too scared to turn around, to look at who it was. it was a bad idea walking the streets along at night, but you didn't particularly care at the moment.

"it's not good walking alone at night, especially if you're a woman," a familiar dutchman's voice rung behind you, you didn't turn around to look. you knew exactly who it was.

you wanted to chuckle at the irony, here you were being scared that a creepy old man wanted a piece of you, but it was the person that gave you the most comfort.

"i think it's creepier that you've been following me around," you say as you continue walking, not wanting to give him time of day, not wanting to hear what he had to say about you or your relationship together.

"i haven't, you didn't notice my car but i saw you walking around aimlessly and i decided to stop and catch you, i just finished dropping lando off," max tells you as he catches up next to you, walking alongside, "can we please talk?"

"i wasn't walking around aimlessly and like i said earlier, there's nothing to talk about," you scoff but that's where max grabs your arm, forcing you to look him in the eye.

you missed him, that was for sure. you didn't fight it this time, just letting him grab your arm as he wanted.

"you haven't been sleeping well," you didn't know how but he made that observation, you didn't want to have this conversation right now.

maybe it was the eyebags underneath your eyes, or maybe it was your performance. you were too scared to confront your feelings and actually say what you felt in front of him. it wasn't the fear that he didn't feel the same way, but what baggage expressing those same feelings would bring.

you were shifting from foot to foot, your eyes were nowhere near max, and then he did the thing.

"look at me when i'm talking to you, y/n," max said softly as he pulled you closer by the arm, hooking his finger underneath your chin to make you look at him, he often did that before when you straight up refused to look at him, "why didn't you come to me?"

"how could i come to you after breaking your heart like that?"

"i still care for you as a friend—"

"so you shut out friends like you did to me?" you ask, your eyes glassy now, tears were threatening to fall.

you were really scared now. you felt like shit after rejecting him like that even when you felt the same way. maybe you couldn't sleep because the fact of the matter was, you caused him heartbreak.

another burden for him to bare, another burden that you gave to him. you hated feeling like a burden to someone else and this was it, you gave that to him. you made him feel like shit and you knew it.

max sighed before looking away then back at you, "i was wrong for that, i just felt hurt. i thought you felt the same way and when monaco happened and you told me you didn't feel the same way, i was crushed."

you felt a drop in your stomach.

you did that to him.

you did that to a person that you cared about deeply.

then you told yourself,

maybe it's alright. maybe i should tell him i felt the same way.

what more pain could i bring other than indirectly telling him that i didn't feel the same way?

what more burden could i possibly bear to give him?

"who told you that i didn't feel the same way?"

"what?"

"i never said i didn't feel the same way, i just told you i was bad with words. i didn't know how to express myself and it hurt seeing you walk away like that when i didn't know what right words to say," you admitted those feelings from all those weeks ago, "i just didn't want to hurt you by the things i couldn't say."

max had that look you knew all to well, relief, excitement almost. he was happy, he thought for all these weeks that you genuinely didn't love him the way he loved you.

he beat himself up for those weeks, putting all of his soul into racing. never resting, never giving him time to think about what happened with you. he didn't want to think about it.

he put all of his energy into his races, making him win back to back to back, even with a "shitbox" (his words not mine). he didn't want to think about you, because if he did, he might've broken down mid-race.

"there were no bad things to say in that situation, you could've just told me how you felt," max breathed out, he was holding his breath before encasing you in a big hug, as if his worries were washed away by the excessive stress you have been giving him.

you stood there, arms gently wrapping around max, melting into the hug, you felt safe in his presence. he was someone that you could be quiet or loud with, someone who could just laugh together along with you over something stupid.

you missed this.

you missed him.

the way he smelt, the way he would touch you, the way he would treat you so gently, as if you could break if he was any rougher.

he took both of his hands and placed them— into your soul.

he was in love with you and he didn't want this night to end.

you placed a gentle kiss on his lips, "can you just take me home? i'm so tired, max."

"i'll take you home, schatje."

when you came to, you were in a pile of tangled limbs, your arms and legs entwined with max's. you spent the night at his, not wanting to return back to your mess of an apartment. you were greeted with polite meows when you did get back to his apartment, the cats happy to see you after so long even though you realistically weren't that far, only barriered between a few steps and a door.

you were the only one awake in his apartment, his cats happily snoozing at the end of the bed with max's face buried in your chest. he was holding you tightly, like you were going to disappear if he let go.

you wanted to chuckle at the thought of that.

you never felt like you meant this much to anyone, and now with max's admission of how he felt for you, you felt at peace for the first time in your life.

last night, he peppered you with kisses until you fell asleep in his arms, not wanting to let him go either. he was a precious man, and you needed to keep him safe at all costs.

your life had been so turbulent, all of the pushing for you to reach the top, all of the abuse you had to go through at home, all of the words you had to hear just because you were a woman when you were racing.

it felt nice to just have to worry about staying at the top.

then you realized, it was the first night you had experienced in the past few weeks that you didn't have a night terror, you slept like a sweet little baby.

your train of thoughts were stopped by a certain sleepy max waking up though.

"when did you wake up, schatje?" max asked, sleep still laced within his voice, you looked down to see a very sleepy max, his cats were starting to wake up too.

"just a few minutes ago, did you sleep well?" you asked max as he laughed before burying his face into your chest again, he shook his head.

"i think i should be asking you that, how do you feel?" max asked as he looked back up, cats now crawling and pawing at max for him to feed them you assumed, but you just planted a kiss on his forehead.

"i slept like a baby, it's the first time i didn't have to worry about night terrors," you told him before he gently untangled his limbs from yours, a soft meow came from sassy, a hungry one.

"we have break for the next three weeks, what do you want to do?" max asked as he sat up from his previous position, tousling with his hair as he always did.

you shrug, sitting up in a similar fashion, not really knowing what you wanted to do. three weeks of absolute freedom accompanied by max sounded like a beautiful experience, but you were just thinking about how well you could sleep, "i don't know, all i can think about is how i'm going to sleep in this bed for the next couple of weeks, i'm not going back to my apartment. maybe it's time for me to change my matress..."

you felt a shove from max, that's when you laughed.

"you slept like a baby thanks to me!" he huffed before pouting, you wished you could take a picture of his dumb face.

you continued laughing as you watch him exit his room and lead his cats to feed them some breakfast, you were surprised you woke up in a timely manner considering that you haven't slept well in weeks.

you decide to get up and start your day, there's isn't a day without starting, right?

max decides on a whim that he wants to plan an impromptu getaway in italy.

"why italy?"

"reminds me of your shit team."

"thanks for reminding me that i have a shit car this season."

yes, that was his reasoning. did you want to smack him? probably.

that's how you were on a jet with max, snoozing happily.

you've realized you haven't really checked your social media recently, you decide to open it up despite a lot of people telling you not to.

that's not good.

liked by 79,000 people.

f1gossip paparazzi pictures from italy has appeared, is that y/n with max verstappen? 0.o

click to view comments.

user1: do my eyes deceive me or is that actually y/n

user2: what are they doing in italy though?

user3: probably enjoying a vacation, why are we speculating their relationship tho,,,,?

user4: did you not slide to the second picture????

user3: yep, i just did. my bad

user5: they look kinda cute together, but do the fia not have regulations for workplace relationships???

user6: i wouldn't think of it if i were them ngl, no other woman has been on the grid before

user7: okay but max looks happy, what is the issue??

user8: yeah some people are in over their heads for no reason

user9: y/nstappen shippers, this is your time to rise.

user10: been here since day 1, they're late

user11: being late to your own ship is crazy

being called by ferrari and red bull simultaneously was a lot to handle.

"you guys have two options, either deny it and not show up in public or announce it," your pr manager had called you the first second you touched down in monaco, you were rubbing your temples and seeing max pace back and forth in the balcony, on a similar call with red bull pr relations.

"or i can just not address it you know, isn't that a good plan?" you scoff sarcastically as jessica tells you that it's a hard no. she tells you further that she wants this issue resolved tomorrow.

you end the call the same time max re-enters the apartment.

"so i think... i was given an ultimatum," max says, he looked a bit sheepish, scared even. you raise an eyebrow.

"announce it or deny right?"

"how'd you know?"

"jessica told me to do the same exact thing, she wants me to die," you groan and bury your head in the sofa throwpillows, you could feel max sit next to you and pat your head.

"well, what do you want to do now?" he asked as he softly gave you reassuring pats, as if to tell you, 'it's okay, i'm here'.

"die."

"y/n."

"BUT THAT'S WHAT I WANNA DO!" you fake-cry as you sit back up right and stare at him, "imagine, the first date we go on, we get caught by paps by me staring lovingly into your pretty blue eyes! kill me!"

"you have pretty eyes too, in your defense—"

"THAT'S NOT THE POINT MAX EMILIAN VERSTAPPEN!"

max holds his hands up in the air in defense before you groan back into your throwpillow, "can't i catch a break? my shitty car with my shittier personal life."

your voice was muffled against the throwpillow, max laughed before speaking up, "so you're saying i'm shitty?"

"no i'm saying my life is going shittily and there's nothing i can do about it," you continue burying your face into the pillow, only releasing yourself from the suffocating position when you needed air.

"you're fine. anyways, do you want me to do it or you do it?"

"ARE YOU CRAZY?"

liked by maxverstappen1, charles_leclerc, alexandrasaintmleux and 987,000 others!

yourusername this is me neither confirming nor denying to the allegations (also my pr manager forced me to do this!!!!!!!!!!) tagged: maxverstappen1

click to view comments.

maxverstappen1: I did not agree to this.

yourusername: do you want to die?

charles_leclerc: chat are we surprised?

user11: WHO TAUGHT YOU THAT?

georgerussell: um, yes we are!!!!!!

alexandrasaintmleux: i think you're the only one not surprised hun

alexandrasaintmleux: congrats love!

user12: the caption is crazy

user13: so the paps caught them when they didn't wanna be caught? that's so sad...

user14: i'm actually so happy for you!

oscarpiastri: Not something I expected for my 2025 bingo, but here we are.

user15: WHY DO YOU HAVE A BINGO IN THE FIRST PLACE?????

user16: can we please talk about this comment?

landonorris: So happy for you mate, was that what the tension was in the car? Sexual tension?

maxverstappen1: I know where you live :D

landonorris: That sounds like a vaguely worded threat.

user17: DHUAWHDNAHD???????/

user18: well good morning to you too y/n

yourusername: you think i wanted to do this??

user18: YOU REPLY???

yourusername: WHEN I AM FRUSTRATED, YES.

user18: i think i might die

yourusername: that's what i said to max when my pr manager called me to tell me to announce or deny the relationship.

user19: CAN WE TALK ABOUT THIS PLEAAAAASSSSSEEEE>>>?<>?>?>

liked by yourusername, charles_leclerc, landonorris and 890,039 others.

maxverstappen1 Cheers to being exposed by paparazzi when we weren't ready, schatje. tagged: yourusername

click to view more comments.

yourusername: i look ugly in the second pic, pls delet :(

maxverstappen1: You look beautiful in every angle, please be quiet

yourusername: ???????

yourusername: ARE YOU FLIRTING WITH ME ON THE TIMELINE RN?

maxverstappen1: What are you gonna do about it?

yourusername: ??????????????????????

yourusername: 24 year old f1 driver, FOUND DEAD IN THE COMMENTS SECTION OF MAX VERSTAPPEN'S POST

landonorris: I wasn't expecting this

maxverstappen1: I still know where you live.

landonorris: Cheers mate!!

user20: oh my god my 433 crumbs

charles_leclerc: the fans can stop the allegations that you're in love with me now

maxverstappen1: Who said I can't love more than one driver?

charles_leclerc: this is where i run

alexandrasaintmleux: @/yourusername your boyfriend is flirting with mine again

yourusername: STOP FLIRTING IN THE COMMENTS SECTION

user21: this is so sweet :(

user22: they really love eachother, huh?

user23: plithhhh, i love the y/nstappen posts, keep em coming T___T

yourusername: i'll try!!!!!

user24: almost all the posts are of them kissing, god when is it my turn?

user25: I'M JEALOUS PLEASE Y/N DATE ME INSTEAD

yourusername: just pick a time and a place baby

user25: Y/N IS FLIRTING WITH ME OH YM GOF

maxverstappen1: Mine >:[

user25: OH MY OFD IM CRYUGN

taglist: @aadu2173 @chelseyyouraverageluigi thank you for enjoying this fic as much as i do writing it :3 just drop a comment if you want to be added to the taglist

[bestreadfanfic]

Masking Together

Summary: Simon gets home from deployment on to discover that new neighbor has moved in.

Pairings: Simon x reader

word count: 583

Warnings: n/a

A/N: This is my first time writing fanfiction so forgive me if it isn't the best. Positive feedback is welcomed. Also, reader is hinted to be black but it's really up to interpretation.

Simon and Ghost were not the same person. Sure they shared the same body but they weren’t the same person. Ghost was a soldier. He was quick-witted and assertive, but most importantly he had meaning. Simon was the opposite. He was unsociable, intimidating, and stubborn. Both Ghost and Simon had no place in the world, but at least Ghost was aware of the fact. Simon seemed to always hold on to a small amount of hope that he would one day find meaning in his life. He wanted to be needed, loved, and cared for. But he knew that it was just wishful thinking.

The end deployment marked the end of Ghost. Well, at least until he was deployed again. His break could be anywhere from a few weeks to a few months. Most people looked forward to going home. Simon wished he could say the same, but he hated it. It made him feel so useless. Day after day he would follow the same routine. Wake up, go for a run, order takeout, go to the gym, go to sleep, and repeat. 

That was until he met you at least. You were the first person to move into the apartment complex in nearly half a decade. Most of the residents were elders who preferred to keep to themselves. Not that he was complaining.

The first time that Simon saw you was when came home from a 6 month deployment. Usually, he would just come home in his uniform, but he had decided to go to the pub so he was dressed in civilian clothes. 

It was night. Simon always tried his best to come back at night. It limited his chances of having to interact with people. Clearly, he wasn’t the only one with that thought process. It was obvious that you weren’t expecting to run into anyone. You were wearing a nightgown with your hair in a bonnet. Not one of those sexy short nightgowns more like the one someone grandmother would wear.

Simon didn’t want to seem like a creep or scare you. Right now he was just staring at you through the glass doors of the apartment complex. He debated waiting for you to go back to your apartment or just go in. After standing out there for around two minutes Simon came to the conclusion that he looked like a bigger creep just standing staring at you through the window. So he decided to just go in and get it over with. 

Simon made sure to be as loud as possible when entering the building. You froze when you heard him, but didn’t turn around. Instead, you remained focused on collecting your mail. You were skimming through the mail. Which was strange in Simon’s opinion. Why didn’t you just take it all up into your apartment? As nonthreatening as could Simon approached the mailboxes and began to check his mail.

Strangely he didn’t have any mail. He always had mail whether it was bills or just junk mail, but nothing was in the mailbox. However, Simon was both too tired and too tipsy to care. Maybe his wish came true, and Simon had somehow disappeared, replaced by only Ghost. You were still just standing there going through the mail. 

Neither you nor Simon said anything as he closed and locked his mailbox. However, as Simon was heading up the stairs, he took one last glance at you and was surprised to see you staring right back at him.

[etherrreal]

"if it's with you"

Pairing: todoroki x fem!reader Genre: fluff, very light hurt/comfort if you squint Summary: as pro-heroes, downtime is especially hard to come by. when you and your boyfriend todoroki finally get the weekend off after a few particularly hellish weeks on the job, you’re determined to make the most of it. the universe, however, seems to have other plans— and a twist you never would’ve expected.WC: 9,889 Warnings: pro-hero!au where both todoroki and reader are pros, like one suggestive line buried somewhere, mentions of divorce and past bad relationships, reader has some trust issues and has also been through A Lot but she’s working on it, todoroki being the best bf ever A/N: my first mha fic! and before anyone asks, no i haven’t read the ending 😅 i’ll read it one day but until then, it’s none of my business <3 -Dawn

Your suffering begins, as it so often does, with the best of intentions.

You wake in the comfort of your boyfriend Todoroki’s arms, the two of you tangled together in the sheets of his bed, your back pressed comfortably against his front. The morning’s first rays of sunlight peek in through the gaps in the curtains, casting the entire bedroom in a warm, golden glow.

You smile to yourself, despite the early hour, contented by the simple fact that there will be no alarms going off this morning, no patrols to attend or mission reports to file. For once, there’s nowhere else either of you needs to be except right here, wrapped up in each other’s arms.

Today is a special day, after all, the first one both you and Todoroki have had off in ages as a result of your demanding and often impossible schedules as pro-heroes. Unsurprisingly, you planned to spend it and the rest of the upcoming weekend together, determined to make up for all the time you’ve had to spend apart lately.

You shift in his arms, just enough so that you can admire him properly, and find yourself struck —though not for the first time— by how unfairly handsome he is, all mussed up hair and perfect features as he rests peacefully beside you. He’s always been devastatingly attractive, beautiful in a way that leaves people starstruck and enamored, that makes them wonder if he’s even real, and this is just as true of him when he’s asleep as it is when he’s awake.

Even now, you can’t help but stare at him, taking in the pretty curve of his lips, the strong slope of his jaw. He always looks so peaceful when he sleeps; softer, too, and it fills you with both gratitude and satisfaction, knowing you’re the only one who gets to see him like this, all serene and unguarded. It’s a testament to how deeply he trusts you, how much the two of you have grown together since you officially started dating a little over four months ago.

You’re tempted to curl further into him and fall right back asleep, letting yourself share in the warmth and comfort of his embrace in the way you so rarely get to do. That temptation only grows when he makes a sleepy little humming sound and nuzzles his face further into your neck, his lips brushing against your throat, right along your pulse point.

It takes a tremendous amount of effort not to fall back into him after that, but somehow, you’re able to steel yourself against it, knowing that what you’ve planned for today involves you having to leave bed sooner rather than later.

You know better than anyone that Todoroki’s had a pretty rough few weeks, even by pro-hero standards, enduring multiple overnight shifts, extra patrols, and mountains of paperwork he’s gone through great lengths to avoid.

The metaphoric cherry on top of it all was a fight with the escaped villain Mayhem that left him with a dislocated shoulder and you with a concussion that you know he still blames himself for, even though you’re the one who jumped in without thinking, as you are often prone to do.

It’s why you promised yourself, as you packed your bag for his apartment the night before, that you would do everything in your power to make this weekend together the best one yet, spoiling him with the kind of care and affection he so rarely affords himself. And the first step in your best weekend ever plan is to surprise him with breakfast, which is what leads you to slip out of his grasp and into the kitchen as stealthily as you can manage.

It’s far from an easy feat. Todoroki’s a bit of a serial cuddler, especially in the mornings, with an iron grip that latches around your waist and all but crushes you to him. But with a little bit of patience and a lot of maneuvering —plus a small boost from your wind-based quirk— you manage to escape and start on breakfast without waking him, leaving him behind with a fond look and a light kiss on his forehead.

And, to your utter delight, everything turns out pretty well. Amazingly well, in fact— or at least it starts off that way.

You locate almost all of the ingredients and materials you need for breakfast with relative ease, humming a little tune to yourself as you get to work. Soon there are strips of bacon sizzling in the skillet, the griddle you set on the stovetop heating up in preparation for the pancakes you plan to make. The mix itself sits in an All Might-themed bowl on the counter, sweetened with fresh fruit and just a pinch of cinnamon.

All that’s left for you to do is find a separate pan for the eggs, which you quickly spot on the top shelf in the cabinet, just out of your reach. Still, you refuse to let that deter you, climbing up on one of the nearby stools to grab it.

Why, of course, you willingly choose to get up on a stool when you’re a certified pro-hero with an entire wind quirk at your disposal —one that quite literally lets you breeze through your problems— will remain a mystery to you. Looking back, you’d like to think it’s a consequence of you working too hard, but really, the more you think about it, the more convinced you become that it’s really just a consequence of you being an idiot.

You’ve just latched onto the handle of the pan and are starting to bring it down when your foot slips. Immediately, you begin to panic, and it’s like every bit of pro-hero training you’ve received over the years vanishes instantly from your brain, leaving you almost comically off-balance and flailing. All of the instincts you thought you’d honed to perfection fail you at once, and just like that, you’re tumbling off the stool before you can stop yourself.

You land on your ass on the kitchen floor with a distressed and undignified yelp, your foot twisting painfully as you go. The rest of the pots and pans on the shelf follow you down, clattering onto the floor around you in a way you’re certain the entire apartment complex is able to hear.

You lift your hands automatically, shielding yourself with an invisible wall of air that protects you from getting smacked around with a frying pan like you’re some sort of cartoon character. It isn’t much, but it’s the best you can do for now, the rest of your senses distracted by the sudden throbbing in your ankle and the sheer bafflement —not to mention complete mortification— you feel for being in this situation in the first place.

Todoroki is next to you before you’re even able to form a coherent thought, having woken up and rushed into the kitchen after you the moment he heard all the commotion, which, admittedly, was probably loud as hell.

His mismatched eyes are wide with worry as he examines you, the trail of ice you see behind him letting you know that he must’ve used his quirk to get to you as quickly as he could. You think you’d be more touched by it if the majority of your energy wasn’t currently being focused on trying not to die of embarrassment.

“Are you all right, love?” Todoroki asks, voice filled with concern as he helps you sit up into a more comfortable position. “Does anything hurt?”

You shake your head before he even finishes the question, plastering a smile to your face. Your ego may be bruised beyond belief, your pride all but ready to shrivel up into a ball and disappear, but you'll be damned if you let this put a damper on your weekend, especially when it’s barely even begun.

“No, no, everything’s okay. I’m good, really, let me just—”

What’s left of your sentence quickly transforms into a wince, pain flaring in your ankle and shooting up your leg the second you try to stand up and put pressure on it. Todoroki is quick to reach out and steady you, lowering you back to the floor carefully.

“What happened?” He’s both curious and concerned as he lifts your injured foot and sets it gently onto his lap. He places his right hand on your ankle, fingers cool and careful with the iciness of his quirk, providing you with instant relief that has you sighing and squeezing his other hand gratefully. “Don’t tell me you were training on your day off.”

“I wish,” you huff, letting out a humorless laugh. At least then, you’d feel less annoyed about it, having already accepted such injuries as part of the reality of your work as a pro-hero, but nope, no such luck.

Instead, the injury you’re currently suffering is one that was both completely avoidable and partially self-inflicted. Leave it to a common kitchen stool to humble the shit out of you; and so early in the morning, too.

“I was trying to make breakfast before you woke up.” You can’t help pouting over it, heaving a disappointed sigh as your gaze falls to your lap. “I wanted to surprise you.”

“Well, it worked.” Todoroki places a hand beneath your chin to make you look at him, the smile he offers as loving as it is teasing. “Consider me thoroughly surprised.”

You purse your lips, shooting him a flat look that makes him laugh. You can’t stop yourself from softening at the sound, especially when he leans in close and presses a soothing kiss to your forehead, smoothing away the furrow of your brow.

When he pulls away, you’re all but putty in his hands, the pain in your ankle reduced to a mere afterthought in the wake of how gentle he’s being with you now, how attentive he always is to every single one of your needs. You’ve always known he’d make an incredible partner, even before you started dating, and the fact that you’re the one who gets to witness it now never fails to make your heart stutter with glee.

“Come on,” he says, entirely unaware of the effect he has on you, his voice steady and reassuring. “Let’s get you somewhere a little more comfortable.”

His words snap you back to reality, returning your attention to the situation at hand. You can tell by the look in his eyes that he means to carry you, and while normally you’d jump at any chance to have his hands on you, the fact that it’s only happening as a result of your own clumsiness has you feeling a special kind of pathetic that you’re not entirely comfortable with.

It’s why you’re so quick to try to talk him out of it, placing a hand on his chest to stop him— or, at the very least, slow him down.

“I’m fine, Shouto, really,” you insist, waving your free hand back and forth in some vague gesture of reassurance. “You don’t have to—”

Todoroki cuts you off by scooping you into his arms, ignoring your protests about the food you still have cooking and the kitchen being a mess in favor of starting on a path back to his bedroom. Once you’re there, he deposits you safely on his bed with an effortlessness that would normally have you swooning, if only you weren’t so annoyed with yourself right now.

He takes the time to make sure you’re comfortable, fluffing up the pillows behind you and handing you your phone, like he can tell you’re just itching to complain about your misfortune in the group chat. It doesn’t make you feel like any less of a bumbling idiot, but it does temper your irritation for the time being, so much so that you don’t even protest when he excuses himself from the room in search of supplies.

He isn’t gone long, returning only a moment later with a handful of items from his hero duffle. You’re still pouting when he does, glaring at your swollen ankle as if that’ll be enough to make it go back to normal. You sit up when you see him approach, taking note of the first aid kit and the ice pack in his hands.

He takes a seat on the bed beside you and lifts your swollen ankle into his lap. You watch as he turns it back and forth to assess the damage, careful not to injure you any further.

In no time at all, you find yourself utterly transfixed by his movements. Your phone is still in your hand, the screen lit up with a half-typed text to your friends, but right now he’s all you’re interested in looking at, mesmerized by the gentle press of his hands against your skin and the delicate, almost reverent way he handles you.

You’re no stranger to the process of patching up your wounds, having experienced countless injuries over the course of your pro hero career, but what is new for you is letting someone else be responsible for it. You’ve never been good at asking for help, much less allowing yourself to be taken care of, convinced by an ugly voice in the back of your mind that doing so would reveal a weakness you might never recover from.

You like to think you’ve gotten better at it over the years, but old habits die hard. Your hyper-independence has always been a point of contention in your relationships, made worse by partners whose reactions to your vulnerability only served to remind you why you kept it hidden in the first place.

With Todoroki, though, it’s different. Years of friendship before you started dating have ensured that he’s seen you at your worst, probably more times than you would’ve liked. He’s been there for all your bad decisions and all your stupid mistakes, through shitty breakups and even shittier fights with villains— and not once has he ever faltered in his support of you, nor has he let any of it change his opinion of you.

Even now, he’s still taking care of you, and you’re actually letting him, knowing he’s someone you can trust to do so without any fear of appearing weak or less than. You know you’ve been kind of a brat this morning, huffing and puffing as he tends to your injury with all the petulance of a pouting child, but he’s taken it all in stride, soothing away your frustration with gentle hands and even gentler kisses against your wrists and forehead.

You’ve never been one to open your heart so easily, never saw any reason to, but you take one look at Todoroki and you know— you’ve never loved anyone the way you love him.

Not that you’ve ever told him that, of course. You know all too well about the trauma of your boyfriend’s upbringing, just like you know how hard he’s worked to put himself in the headspace of actually pursuing a romantic relationship. It’s why you refuse to be someone who pressures him into exchanging any sort of I love you’s unless you’re sure that’s a step he’s ready to take with you.

And while you’ve certainly done your own fair share of healing and growth when it comes to being vulnerable in your relationships, there’s a part of you that’s still hesitant to say those three words out loud, terrified that everything will go wrong once you do. That he’ll hear them and change his mind, and then he’ll leave, just like your dad did with your mom. Just like everyone does eventually.

It’s an irrational fear, you know, especially with someone like Todoroki, who’s proven time and time again how much he cares for you, how deep his devotion to you truly runs. Unlike your previous partners, he’s given you no reason to doubt him, but try as you might to convince yourself otherwise, the truth of the matter is that you’re not ready to say I love you either. Like you said before, old habits die hard.

Across from you, Todoroki opens the first aid kit and unfurls a set of bandages, distracting you from your thoughts. He uses one hand to lift your foot beneath your calf and the other to wind the bandages around your ankle, each one of his movements careful and practiced.

“It’s not broken,” he tells you, finishing off the wrapping and setting your foot on his thigh, “but it’s definitely sprained. You’ll have to rest and stay off of it until you’re ready to try putting pressure on it again.”

“Well, there go our dinner plans.” You can’t help the disappointed sigh that leaves your lips, meeting his gaze to send him an apologetic look. “I’m sorry. I know you were looking forward to trying that new soba place downtown.”

“You have nothing to apologize for.” He stacks a few pillows by your foot, his voice easy and reassuring as he rests your ankle on the highest one, elevating it. “The restaurant can wait. I’m more concerned about you.”

“You’re choosing me over cold soba?” You pretend to be shocked by it, eyes wide as you place a hand over your heart, though the teasing smile on your face betrays your satisfaction. “Yikes. You must really like me, then, huh?”

“More than you know,” he answers, steady and sincere, without any sort of regard for the effect his words have on you.

He says it calmly, doubtlessly, with the kind of sureness you’ve always admired in him. It’s a habit of his, you’ve learned, to say such romantic things without any sort of hesitation, to speak of his affection for you so bluntly and unapologetically. As if he doesn’t even have to think about it, as if the feelings he has for you are just another fact of life, a truth as natural and easy to him as breathing.

“Besides,” he adds a moment later, as if he isn’t the one responsible for the current fluttering of your heart inside your chest, “there’s always takeout.”

That gets a real laugh out of you, despite the situation. Todoroki returns the gesture with a smile of his own, reaching for the ice pack next and placing it on top of your ankle.

“How’s that feel?”

“My ankle’s definitely sore, but it’s not so bad. My pride, on the other hand, is hanging by a thread. At this point, I’m not sure it’ll ever recover.” You heave a dramatic sigh, slumping against the pillows behind you in defeat. “You wouldn’t happen to have anything that could help with that, would you?”

He pauses to consider it, tilting his head in a way that only serves to make him more adorable. Then he starts to smile to himself, sliding one hand up your leg and using the other to brace himself over your body.

He shifts on the mattress and leans in close, his lips hovering just a few inches away from your own. “I have one idea…”

You wrap your arms around his neck, more than happy to indulge him, your lips meeting in a soft, sweet kiss. He deepens it just for you, tilting his head and moving a hand to cradle your jaw.

You’re both smiling when you break apart for air, all tender and warm as your eyes meet his once more. He cups your face with both hands, and you lean into his touch, his thumb grazing your bottom lip.

“Feeling better now?”

“Much,” you answer, turning your face to kiss his palm. “But we’ll probably need to try that again. You know, just to make sure it’s actually working. Nothing serious, either, just two, three, maybe twenty more times—”

Todoroki laughs, a light, quiet sound you don’t think you’ll ever get tired of hearing. He presses one kiss to your mouth and another to your forehead, and then he’s standing up, lightly pinching your cheek as he goes.

“I’ll go get us something to eat,” he says, squeezing the hand you lift to swat at him. “Try not to fall off any more stools while I’m gone.”

“Hey!”

You gasp and make an affronted sound, reaching for one of the pillows you’re not already using and launching it directly at his head. He dodges it, of course —figures his hero reflexes are working just fine, unlike yours— and smirks to himself on his way out, while you stick your tongue out at him.

Thankfully, your boyfriend’s wise enough to know better than to test your temper by coming back empty-handed. He appears in the doorway of his bedroom a few minutes later carrying a tray with two plates stacked with pancakes, an iced coffee for you, and a cup of tea for himself.

You perk up immediately, both at the sight of him and the amazing smell coming from the food, though you can’t help the guilt that settles in your chest when you remember that you were the one who wanted to bring him breakfast instead. You’re happy that the two of you are spending time together now, especially after the week you’ve both had, but it’s definitely not the way you imagined it would be.

Not that Todoroki seems to mind it, his lips curled into that fond little smile he only ever gets around you as he walks across the room to join you on the bed. He takes a seat beside you and sets the tray that’s holding everything down on the mattress between you, careful not to spill anything as he makes himself comfortable at your side.

“The bacon was beyond saving,” he announces solemnly, pausing as if he’s giving you time to mourn, “but the pancakes were surprisingly resilient.”

You can’t help but snort at his words. “They weren’t even cooking yet, Sho. It’d be a miracle if they hadn’t made it.”

“The real miracle is that they aren’t on fire. You know my culinary skills are abysmal at best.”

“Oh, come on. They can’t still be that bad. Isn’t Fuyumi teaching you a few recipes?”

“She’s certainly tried to. I’m afraid we never made it past our first lesson. Apparently the way I sauté vegetables is both frightening and destructive.” That makes you laugh, and Todoroki smiles, pleased at the sound, before handing you a fork and knife from the tray. “Thankfully, the pancakes were a lot more forgiving. I was able to get them out of there alive, and I even had time to add your favorite syrup.”

“My hero,” you coo, cutting off a piece of the pancakes from your plate and taking a bite. And though they’re certainly delicious, they do little to distract you from your earlier embarrassment, or from the disappointment you feel at being the reason why your weekend plans have gone down the drain. “I’m glad at least one of us lives up to our job description. After my epic failure in coordination this morning, I should probably suspend my own license.”

“Don’t be so hard on yourself,” Todoroki says, nudging your calf with his foot. “It was an accident. It could’ve happened to anyone, and it definitely doesn’t make you any less of a pro. You have nothing to be embarrassed about, especially not around me.”

“I know that, Sho, but it’s not—” You cut yourself off with a sigh, your gaze falling to the plate that rests in your lap. “It’s not just that.”

Being embarrassed is definitely part of it, you know, a feeling you’re sure won’t be going away anytime soon, but right now, more than anything, you feel guilty. When you woke up this morning, you were determined to help him relax and spoil him the way he’s always doing for you, but all you’ve done so far is give him more work. And though you know in your heart that Todoroki is far too kind and understanding to hold such a thing against you, that doesn’t make you feel any less awful about it.

You still aren’t looking at him, but you can hear the concern in his voice when he speaks, patient and considerate as ever. “Then what’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong, Sho, it’s just— even though we work together, we barely see each other. And when we do, you’re always taking care of me, you know? This weekend was supposed to be my chance to return the favor, especially with how crazy things have been at the agency lately— but here you are, taking care of me again, all because I went and busted my ankle in the stupidest and most unheroic way ever.”

“Why are you saying that like it’s a bad thing?” You look up at him just in time to catch the way his eyebrows furrow, his head tilting in confusion as he abandons his breakfast in favor of reaching for your hand. “I like taking care of you. I always have, especially because I know how hard it is for you to let me in the first place.”

“I know you do, baby. And I’m trying to get better at letting you, really, I am, I just—” Another sigh, tinged with both guilt and disappointment, falls from your lips, but you don’t hesitate to let your hand rest in his, winding your fingers together. “I wish I could take care of you even half as well as you’re always taking care of me.”

“Love, you remember all the mission reports I forget to file, you bring me soup whenever I’m sick, and you quite literally save my life on a daily basis,” he says, voice gentle but firm, reassuring in all the ways you didn’t even realize you needed until now. “You take care of me plenty.”

He brings your hand to his lips, and you watch, smitten and starry-eyed, as he presses a kiss to the inside of your wrist. And just like that, all your doubts and guilt fade away, lost somewhere between the graze of his lips on your skin and the sincerity in his mismatched eyes as they meet yours.

“So forget about returning the favor,” Todoroki continues, squeezing your hand lightly, “because you already have. And I can’t think of anything I’d like more than to keep being the one who gets to take care of you.”

And well, after hearing that, it’s hard to do anything besides kiss him, so you do. You kiss him, gentle and sweet, sweet the way he always is with you, and you hope he can feel the gratitude in it, the affection that’s burrowed its way so deeply inside your chest, it’s a wonder your heart hasn’t burst from it.

“I know,” you murmur against his lips when the two of you pull away for air, “and I—”

Love you, your heart supplies, meaning it. I really, really love you, you want to say, but can’t, the words honest and heavy on the tip of your tongue, held back by memories of past bad relationships and an irrational fear of what will happen if you let yourself be that vulnerable.

“...I want to do the same,” is what you end up telling him instead, safer and not as frightening, but still every bit as true. You place your hand against his cheek and smile at him, even as the voice inside of your heart curses yourself for backing out at the last second. “Always.”

“Always,” Todoroki agrees, returning your smile with one of his own, smooth voice echoing with promise.

The rest of your breakfast is a quiet, peaceful affair. You and Todoroki enjoy both the food and each other’s company as you exchange stories from earlier in the week, content to finally get to talk about something other than work. He tells you about his and Fuyumi’s growing suspicions that Natsuo has a new girlfriend, and you tell him about the gaggle of freakishly large geese you’re pretty sure tried to kill you the last time you flew over the city.

When your plates are empty and your stomachs are full, the two of you spend some time cuddling together in his bed. You pull up your calendar on your phone, wistfully rearranging your itinerary for the weekend now that you only have one good ankle left to work with, while your boyfriend watches from behind you, his chin hooked over your shoulder and his arm draped around your waist.

The reservations you made at the spa are the hardest for you to part with, a woeful sound leaving your lips as you swipe to confirm your cancellation. Thankfully, Todoroki is there to distract you, murmuring a suggestive promise into your ear about giving you a massage that has you sighing for a different reason entirely, his hands gliding along your body and making you feel warm all over.

When you’re comfortable and sated, he excuses himself to clear the dishes and take care of the much-needed cleanup in the kitchen. You try to convince him to stay, insisting that you should be the one cleaning up your own mess, but he refuses to be swayed, slipping away after distracting you with a perfectly timed kiss that’s as romantic as it is conniving.

It isn’t long after he’s left that you find yourself completely bored out of your mind. Scrolling through your phone can only be so entertaining before 8AM, and staring at the ceiling while you wait for Todoroki to come back to you isn’t helping much either.

You FaceTime Bakugou to distract yourself, which is your first mistake. Or maybe your second, if you count the whole spraining your ankle whilst making breakfast thing. But he’s an early riser and also responsible for covering your morning patrol shift, so you take your chances, figuring he’s the most likely of your friends to be awake.

You catch him just as he’s leaving his apartment for the day. He answers the call with a gruff “the hell d’you want?” that you imagine would’ve been more threatening if he hadn’t also picked up on the first ring, betraying his fondness.

You let him pretend to be annoyed with you anyway, thanking him for covering your shift in the most sickeningly sweet voice you can muster and laughing when all he does is roll his eyes and flip you off in response. Then you launch into the story of your own morning, eager to complain about your misfortunate to a set of fresh ears.

When you tell Bakugou what happened with your ankle, he offers no sympathy. Instead, he cackles so hard he drops his phone, and you hang up on him, vowing to yourself that the first thing you’re going to do when you see him is summon a tornado to knock him clean off his ass, childhood friendship be damned.

You FaceTime Midoriya next. He’s entering his apartment when he answers your call, having just finished up the tail end of his overnight patrol shift.

He yawns halfway through his greeting, his hair messy and his cape rumpled, but he doesn’t hang up, nor does he let you end the call once you notice how sleepy he looks. Exhausted as he is, he’s also a really great friend. Your best friend, in fact, one who’s far too kind and caring to ignore you, even if it’s for something silly.

He’s definitely amused when you tell him about your sprained ankle and failed breakfast adventure, but unlike Bakugou the gremlin, he doesn’t laugh at you. Instead, he offers you his sympathy, knowing how much you were looking forward to your weekend off. Still, he urges you to stay positive, convinced you’ll recover sooner than you think.

He lets you vent, too, listening to you with his undivided attention as you complain about finding shoes that’ll fit an ankle brace and having to rearrange your plans, and by the time you’re done, you feel a lot better.

“See, I knew I should’ve called you first. All Katsuki’s annoying ass did was laugh at me for being uncoordinated. ‘Some pro you are, Tempest.’” You do your best impression of Bakugou’s voice, complete with a matching sneer, making Midoriya laugh. “I swear, as soon as my ankle gets better, the first thing I’m going to do is kick his ass.”

“Kacchan means well,” he says. His camera is pointed at the ceiling while he changes out of his hero suit, so you can’t tell if he actually sees you rolling your eyes or not, but you imagine he doesn’t need to, having played the peacemaker between you and Bakugou for most of your life. “I’m sure he was worried about you in his own way.”

“Is that what he calls it? Because I’m pretty sure if we called him right now, he’d still be laughing at me. Jerk.” You shake your head, flashing a hopeful look at the camera as Midoriya, now clad in his pajamas, reappears on your screen. “Promise you’ll super glue his locker shut for me the next time you’re at the agency?”

“I’ll see what I can do,” he chuckles, walking into his room with his phone in hand and settling into his bed. His green eyes are cloudy with sleep, but the concern they hold is clear as day he meets your gaze with his own. “You’ve been taking care of your ankle, right?”

“I’ve got an ice pack on it as we speak,” you answer, reassuring him with a playful salute. “I’m elevating it, too. Shouto made sure of it. He’s been taking really good care of me.”

“I figured he would. Speaking of which, has he asked you yet?”

“Asked me what?”

Midoriya’s hand freezes in place where he’s running it through his hair. For a moment, the two of you just stare at each other through your phone screens, neither one of you moving. His eyes are wide, and he has that look on his face you’ve only seen a handful of times before, the one he only makes whenever he realizes he’s really screwed up.

None of it is making you feel better, especially not when he drops his hand and blinks like he’s trying to reboot himself.

“Uh...nothing?”

“Nothing, my ass! You can’t just say something like that and not tell me what it is,” you insist, narrowing your eyes at him as threateningly as you can manage over FaceTime. “What do you know? What is he going to ask me?”

“Nothing! R-Really, I— I have no idea what you’re talking about—”

“Izuku, I swear to god—”

He hangs up on you.

You’re left to stare at your lock screen with wide eyes and a dropped jaw. You scramble to call him back, infuriated that he would even dare to hang up after dropping a bomb like that on you with no explanation whatsoever.

Predictably, he doesn’t respond. Your calls go unanswered, which means he’s either ignoring you, or he’s dead. And if he’s not dead, then he will be soon, because next time you see him, you’re going to strangle him, Symbol of Peace status be damned.

Your fury lasts only momentarily before transforming into panic when his words really hit you.

Todoroki is going to ask you something? Holy shit, is he going to ask you to marry him? What the fuck? The two of you have never talked about marriage before. You didn’t even think that was something he’d want, and honestly, before him, it wasn’t something you’d ever considered yourself to want, either. Not after your parents’ divorce, and definitely not after your own tragic romantic history.

The two of you have only been dating four months, for crying out loud. Granted, you’ve known each other since high school, but still. He can’t actually want to marry you already.

You know Todoroki’s always been a little slow on the uptake when it comes to social cues and expectations, but this is pushing it, even for him. He literally just witnessed you wiping out in the middle of his kitchen while doing something as mundane and uncomplicated as making breakfast. What part of that horrific performance would make him think you’re marriage material?

Why would he even think you would say yes? You —avoidant, allergic to vulnerability you— ready for something as serious and life-changing as marriage? Yeah, right. And to spring it on you without any sort of discussion first? Without even hearing you say you love him? How could that possibly make any sense to him?

But what else can it be? What else is significant enough of a question that it made Midoriya abandon you like he revealed a horrible secret, like you don’t know where he lives and won’t show up to strangle him for leaving you in the dark like this?

This is too much for you, too early in the morning. Your ankle still hurts and now your head does, too, plus you’re panicking and sitting on the bed of the man who may or may not be on his way back to propose to you right now.

Part of you is tempted to run from it, to avoid any and all attempts at discussing your relationship and pretend that what Midoriya told you doesn’t exist. It certainly wouldn’t be the first time if you did. It’s your go-to strategy in relationships, after all: ignoring the problem until it eventually goes away, if it ever does.

And maybe it’s a testament to how much being with Todoroki has changed you and pushed you to grow, but you don’t actually want to do any of that this time. As stressed as thinking about this has made you, the truth is you don’t want to run from him. You love him, after all, even if your trust issues have made it practically impossible for you to tell him.

The one thing you know for certain is that you have to talk to him about it. You have no idea how you’re going to bring it up, much less how you’re going to navigate the conversation once you do, but sitting here overthinking it is only making your anxiety worse. If you and Todoroki are ever going to have a chance at getting past this, then you’re going to have to stop running and start being honest with him, even if the idea of doing so kind of makes you want to hurl.

Still, you think, if anyone’s worth making yourself vulnerable for, it’s him. It’s always been him.

It’s with that thought in mind that you push yourself to stand, rising from the bed on your one good foot. You take about three steps away from the mattress before deciding that hopping around on one leg makes you feel more ridiculous than serious, which is what you’re trying to be right now. You end up activating your quirk instead, using it to hover above the floor without having to put any pressure on your bad ankle.

It’s at that exact moment that Todoroki decides to return to you, the two of you running into each other just before you can reach the doorway. He sighs when he sees you’re out of bed, but there’s a flicker of amusement in his gaze that lets you know he isn’t at all surprised to find you like this, floating above the ground in the middle of his bedroom.

“And where are you going?” He raises an eyebrow at you, leaning against the doorframe with his hands crossed over his chest. “Off to take your revenge on my poor kitchen stool?”

For the second time today, your words fail you. The whole reason you got up in the first place was to talk to him about everything, but now that he’s here in front of you, you find that you have no idea what to say.

All you can do is give a shaky laugh, fidgeting with your hands before wrapping them around yourself protectively, as if somehow that’ll give you the strength to say what’s on your mind. “Something like that, yeah.”

“I had a feeling you’d get bored and want to start walking again instead of resting,” Todoroki says. “It’s why I went back into my hero duffle and brought you these.” He uncrosses his arms, and that’s when you notice the pair of ankle braces he has tucked away into the crook of his elbow. “I figured at least one of them might fit you.” “Oh,” you mutter, “uh, thanks.”

It’s awkward and unsure, the complete opposite of all your playful and easy banter earlier this morning. If Todoroki notices, he doesn’t comment on it.

He makes his way towards you, and your eyes widen when he reaches for your waist. He wraps his free arm around you and leads you over to the bed, helping you sit back down. You deactivate your quirk and watch as he lifts your injured ankle, carefully propping it back up onto the pillow so you’re comfortable.

It’s sweet, the way he takes care of you, how gentle he always handles you. He’s sweet, and devoted, and protective. He’s taken such good care of you this morning, as he always has, and you know, somehow, that he always will.

And you realize, right then and there, that if there’s anyone you want to be married to, it’s him. Because he’s kind, and he’s gentle, and he’s brave. And more than anything, he’s good. He’s really, truly good, good in the way you never imagined you could deserve, good in a way that makes you think about forever.

And thinking that is just— it’s insane to you, really. Borderline impossible, because you never thought it would happen. After everything you’ve seen, all the shitty breakups you’ve been through —both in your home life and your personal one— you never imagined you’d feel comfortable or safe enough in a relationship to want more, but here you are.

Here you are, tentative but open and growing. Willing to try, with Todoroki.

And what a wonderful place that is to be.

You’re so caught up in your thoughts you don’t notice that he’s taken a seat at the edge of the bed, the mattress dipping beneath his weight. He holds an ankle brace in each hand, offering them for you to take.

“I wasn’t sure which you’d like more, so I brought both—”

“What are you planning to ask me?” you blurt without warning, unable to stop yourself.

Todoroki blinks in surprise, clearly not expecting your outburst. You weren’t expecting it either, honestly —when you decided to have this conversation with him, you really were hoping you’d be able to bring it up a lot more smoothly— but it’s too late to take it back now. And as rushed and awkward as your delivery is, you need to know before you pass out from all the stress.

It takes a few moments for him to understand what you’re talking about, but you see the realization dawning on him slowly, his eyes widening a fraction.

“How did you…” His voice trails off, and then he sighs. “Uraraka told you.”

“Izuku, actually,” you correct sheepishly, biting your lip. “Though, in his defense, he was coming off a night shift and half-asleep when I called him. Not that I should be defending him, anyway, since the bastard hung up on me without telling me what it was. Coward.”

You clear your throat, fiddling with the hem of your shirt. “Anyway, that’s why I’m asking you now. Whatever it is, I’d like to hear it from you, if you’re still comfortable sharing it.”

He’s silent for a few moments, like he’s considering whether or not he wants to move forward with this. But Todoroki has never been anything but honest with you, so it isn’t long before he lets go of the braces, getting to his feet and moving closer so he can face you properly.

He kneels in front of you by the edge of the bed, and the voice inside your head starts to scream, either in excitement, fear, or some strange combination of both.

“This isn’t how I wanted to do this,” he says softly, reaching to take one of your hands in his own. “It was supposed to happen tonight over dinner, when it was just the two of us.”

You don’t say anything, not trusting yourself to speak. He’s definitely not doing much to make you think this is anything besides a marriage proposal.

One of his hands moves to open the drawer in his nightstand, and you nearly have a heart attack right then and there. You swear your whole body jolts, your free hand shooting out and latching onto his shirt to stop him so fast you almost fall off the bed.

He stops reaching for the drawer, his hands going up to your arms to steady you instead.

“Are you all right?” he asks, frowning in concern. “You’re not feeling light-headed, are you? Because if you are, you should lie down—”

“I’m not light-headed, Shouto, I’m in love with you.”

The confession falls from your lips, as most of your words do, before you can stop it. It’s hurried and breathless but also true and sincere, the culmination of four months of rooftop lunch dates and Facetimes between patrols, of comforting touches and lingering glances and all the wanting and affection you’d harbored in the years before that.

It seems to stun him into silence, which is quite honestly your worst nightmare, but you don’t let that deter you. Despite the doubt and irrational fear your past relationships have burdened you with, you know what kind of man Todoroki is. He was your friend long before anything romantic happened between the two of you, and you trust him completely, not just with your life, as you have for years now, but with your heart.

It’s with that thought in mind that you push yourself to continue, taking his hands into your own and intertwining your fingers together while he watches you, wide-eyed and hanging on to every word.

“I think I have been for a while. I just didn’t know how to say it, or if I even wanted to, because honestly, I was afraid to. Not because of you or anything you’ve done, but because of everything else. Because of what happened with my parents and all my shitty exes— and god, I’ve had some really, really shitty exes—”

You shake your head, stopping yourself before that train of thought goes any further, because it’s not the point. The point is that you love him, that you’ve been in love with him this whole time, and you need him to know that before anything else happens.

“What I’m trying to say is that I was scared. I thought that if I told you the truth about how I felt, then things would change, and the thought of putting myself out there only to lose you in the end just— well, it terrified me. But I’m not afraid anymore, because I know you, and I trust you, and I just— I love you, Shouto. I really, really love you. And I don’t expect you to say it back unless you’re ready, but I just—”

Todoroki doesn’t let you finish the rest of your sentence, cutting you off with a kiss that quite literally takes your breath away. He moves his lips against yours with purpose, breathing you in and cradling your face in his hands like you’re something precious, like close will never be close enough, and it’s all you can do to kiss him back, sighing into his mouth and tangling your fingers into his hair.

It’s not the first kiss the two of you have shared, nor will it be the last, but somehow it feels like the most important, the one where you finally stop being afraid and start being honest. The one where you both do.

It feels like too soon when he pulls away, but even then, he doesn’t get very far, drawing back just enough to stare into your eyes. Todoroki looks at you like you hung the moon, like you’re the one thing he’ll never get tired of seeing. He looks at you like he—

“I love you,” he says surely, doubtlessly, without the slightest waver to his voice, and now you’re the one who gets to stare, wide-eyed and hanging on to every word. “I’ve always loved you, even before I knew what that meant. And I understand everything you said about being afraid, because I was, too. All of this is still so new to me, sometimes I’m not sure what to say or what to do, but when it comes to you…”

He lets his voice trail off, moving his hands from your face down to your wrists, and then taking your hands into his own. Your heart soars when he leans down to press a kiss across your knuckles, rising and stuttering with affection where it rests inside your chest.

“You are the one thing I’ve never been unsure about,” he says, and you can tell by the look in his eyes how much he means it.

It’s the kind of confession that steadies you, one that makes all the doubt and uncertainty you felt earlier disappear, until all that’s left behind is the love you have for him, the love you know is returned.

Your eyes are watery, your bottom lip trembling with relief and affection, but still you find it in yourself to make a joke, winding your fingers through his. “Even when I do something ridiculous, like twist my ankle in the lamest way ever?”

Todoroki laughs and squeezes your hand. “Even then,” he promises. “In fact, I happen to love you the most when you’re doing something ridiculous, whether it’s falling off a stool, or jumping into the middle of a fight without a plan, or even telling off one of the biggest reporters in the country despite what it could do to your career.”

“When did I…” It takes you a few seconds to think about it, but eventually you understand what he’s talking about. You blink as the memory resurfaces, images of yourself in a pretty gown, him in a well-fitted suit, and about a million cameras flashing around you replaying in the back of your mind. “You’re talking about the charity gala for the children’s hospital, with that reporter who wouldn’t leave you alone while we were on the red carpet.”

“She kept asking me all those questions about my father and what our relationship was like. I didn’t think it’d ever end.” He strokes the backs of your hands with his thumbs, lips curling into a small, fond smile, as if the memory somehow pleases him. “Then you showed up and chewed her out for being, and I quote, ‘an invasive, insensitive parasite who was more concerned about being on the front page than she was about sick children.’ I thought your manager was going to have an aneurysm when she heard you.”

“She almost did,” you admit with a laugh, recalling the sight of your usually poised manager Misaki staring at you in horror on the other side of the velvet ropes, red-faced and furiously shaking her head in an attempt to get you to stop talking, which of course hadn’t worked. “I had to commit to a month of good behavior and PR deals just to get on her good side again.”

The incident had been all over the news, the reporter you’d offended labeling you an ill-tempered, bad-mannered brat who had no respect for the art of journalism or even her own country. And that, of course, was nothing compared to the field day the rest of the press had with your reaction, speculating on what your actual relationship with Todoroki was, despite the fact that back then, the two of you were still just friends.

Your boyfriend at the time hadn’t appreciated it at all. In fact, he’d hated every second of it, to the point he’d broken up with you as a result, but you never regretted it. You still don’t.

You tell Todoroki as much, brushing a few strands of hair away from his eyes and smiling at him. “It was worth it, you know. You were worth it. And I’ve never regretted it.”

“I know,” he says, returning your smile with one of his own. “And that’s when I realized how important you are to me. I’ve been in love with you ever since.”

“Wait, what?” The confession leaves you floored, eyes widening as you all but gape at him. “Sho, that gala was almost three years ago. You’re telling me you’ve loved me since then? And you didn’t say anything?”

“I wasn’t sure how to,” he admits. “Besides, you were already seeing someone else. And while I certainly didn’t care for him, I didn’t want to get in the way of your happiness. But I know now that I want to be the person who makes you happy. I want to be the one who’s there for you and who takes care of you. Always.”

You can’t help the joy that floods your heart at his words, your lips curving into a goofy smile. “Really?”

“Really. That’s why I want to ask you to move in with me.”

It sounds like a metaphorical record scratch. You have to take a moment to make sure you heard him correctly, and even then it still feels like you’ve just been thrown off a cliff.

“Wait, what?”

Todoroki releases your hands to open the drawer of his nightstand. This time, you don’t stop him, letting him reach inside to retrieve what he was looking for earlier.

You hear the jingle of keys before you see them, and sure enough, when he opens his hand, there’s a copy of the keys to his apartment resting in his palm, complete with the matching downstairs alarm and all. And you feel like—

Well, you feel like an idiot, mostly. An irrational, unbelievable idiot who jumps to conclusions and makes stupid assumptions but who is also really, really excited at the idea of getting to wake up with the love of your life every day.

“You were right earlier when you said we haven’t seen each other as much as we should,” Todoroki says, oblivious to both your earlier panic and how hard you’re trying not to laugh at yourself right now. “Our schedules and careers are mostly responsible for that, but having to go back and forth between apartments isn’t helping, either. That’s why I wanted to ask you to move in with me tonight. I even made a whole list of reasons to convince you.”

“Is that so?” You raise an eyebrow at him curiously, taking the keys out of his hand and twirling them around your finger. “Let’s hear them, then.”

“Our agency is closer to here than it is to your place,” he begins, rising from the floor and taking a seat next to you on his bed. “Midoriya and Bakugou are only ten minutes away. There’s a cat cafe on the corner, a plant shop across the street, and you’ve already tried all the local restaurants, so you know what you like and dislike.”

“All very practical reasons.” You move a little closer, and he lifts his arm and wraps it around your shoulders, allowing you to lean against his side. “Go on.”

“You spend more nights here than you do at your apartment. You already have a toothbrush, a place for your clothes, and a cabinet dedicated to just the foods you enjoy. And…”

“And…?”

Todoroki smiles softly at you, resting a hand against your cheek as he meets your gaze before he speaks again. “And I very much like the idea of getting to come home to you.”

“I like the idea of that, too,” you tell him, barely able to contain your own excitement as you smile and lean in for his lips.

The kiss you share now is slow and sweet, soft with the devotion you have for each other, the love you finally get to share. You feel him smile against your lips, gentle and content, and then he’s pulling back to meet your eyes, his fingers brushing the hair out of your face.

“Is that a yes?”

“It’s a definite yes. I’d love to move in with you, Sho.”

And when you see the way he smiles at you, warm and fond and so, so in love with you, you know you’ve made the right choice.

You snuggle into his side, making yourself comfortable with your head on his chest, while he welcomes you eagerly, tightening his arm around you and letting his cheek rest on the top of your head. When you remember your earlier distress, so different from the calm and comfort you’ve settled into now, you can’t help but laugh, pressing the keys that you were so sure were going to be a ring into your palm.

Beside you, Todoroki hums and faces you with a questioning look. “What’s so funny?”

“Nothing, nothing. It’s just— for a second there, when Izuku told me you wanted to ask me something, I panicked. I thought you were going to ask me to marry you.”

A beat of silence follows. You expect him to laugh with you, but instead he grows quiet. For a moment, you wonder if you’ve said the wrong thing, but then he reaches for your hand and slides his fingers through yours, shifting so he can face you properly, mismatched eyes curious and searching.

“Is that something you’d want?” he asks, more quietly than he needs to, like he’s afraid he might scare you off. “With me?”

“I’ve never really thought about it,” you answer, voice as quiet as his. “In fact, I’ve actually tried really hard not to think about it. I didn’t think it was an option for me before.”

“Same here,” he says, and for some reason, hearing him be so honest and knowing that he thought the same fills you with relief, the steadiness of his voice comforting you the way it always has. “But if it’s with you…”

“If it’s with you…” You lift your head to look at him and press your palm flat against his chest, right above his heart. “I think we could make it work.”

He kisses you, then, slow and soft just like before, with his heart beating against your palm, strong and steady, unwavering when it comes to you, the way it’s always been. There’s a promise in it, too, one you hope he feels is reflected in the way you kiss him back, one that feels like forever.

You’re both smiling at each other when you pull away. Todoroki looks at you like he’s always looked at you, like you’re all he wants to see. Like you’re home, and for the first time in your life, you know you are.

And he doesn’t need to say anything else, doesn’t need to prove himself any more than he already has, but he says it anyway.

“Yeah. I think we could, too.”

And the best part is, he means it.

Written by: Dawn Taglist link

[nicosraf]

It's my birthday! And Angels Before Man's second birthday from the original publishing! And almost three years since the original draft of it! Wow! Thank you all a million times for being here. Really, genuinely

I'd like for this extremely long post to be happier ! But a lot of people are really troubled by the United States election. There's a lot of fear-mongering online about what'll happen and a lot of real threats to marginalized people in the U.S. and abroad. I don't talk about my own identities a ton. I'm a gay, trans, Mexican from the US-Mex border. The vast majority of my family, community, and friends are immigrants of varying legal statuses. I could lose everything!! I fear for my family! My friends! For my body and my heart!

My mom called me yesterday morning, though, basically asking for an explanation. She told me she was shocked, she was scared, and I said that so was I, then we said, "Pos ni modo." Ni modo!! Oh well!!! What can we do now? We can keep doing what we've always done. Survive. That's all you really have to do at the end of the day, you know, survive.

My family is from a rough Mexican city that fell apart when I was little, a place where my own family has been kidnapped and bodies have been left mutilated in the street for everyone to see. The radio spoke in code to let you know not to go outside when things got really bad. There used to be mariachis in the street to greet American tourists but by the time I was little, they were mostly gone. Boarded up, abandoned stores and boarded up, abandoned homes. I remember being scared, and I remember not knowing what to do listening to a shoot out right outside. I remember my heart stopping when my family was stopped by the soldiers and they demanded money out of us for the first time.

(And I can talk also about living on the other side. The hyper policing, ICE, the racism when my school played against other schools, my parents forbidding me from speaking Spanish outside our Mexican enclave and to stay close to them, and I can talk about the aggression from the white nuns at my catholic school toward the latino kids, I can talk about having to see the border patrol every day just to go to school, I can even talk about Trump-supporters coming down to the border and making a mess of the place and I can talk and I can talk but why? what for??)

My family is all (mostly) still around. I'm here also. We're still here. All of that horrible stuff happened and is still happening to us y ni modo!! Ni modo ! The fight continues. You'll be fine if you allow yourself to be, and if you're not, then you really gave it your best shot, and the people around you will see that you did.

I know for a lot of people there might be the urge to spiral into doom and grieve, but you don't need to borrow the grief of the future. Today you can get up and roll up your sleeves and clean the house. That's what my parents tell me to do when I'm sad. Ponte a limpiar. Ponte a trabajar. I used to get mad at them for it, but in the end, you're only in charge of yourself and the places/things that you upkeep.

I was raised around nopales (prickly pear cacti) and, many years ago, I threw one out of my parent's house because I didn't know what to do with it. I didn't want it. I figured it'd get eaten by something or die somehow. The nopal started growing instead, and it's still there. It even grew a flower, though it hasn't given us a pear yet. My dad doesn't like the pears/tuna but my mom does, so we went out to check on it and while we were there, we heard a bird singing. He looked up and he told me it was a cenzontle and that it was singing a little song for the nopal. I had this thought about how even though I basically tried to kill it, the nopal was growing, thriving. it's an easy metaphor to make, but the earth gives you simple lessons sometimes.

(The monarchs pass by every year. They don't even do it legally. They cut the border line and don't wait their turn to talk to the Customs guys!!! They just fly overhead then look back at us like we're crazy. How can we explain this to them? How do I tell them that there's a place that hates us both)

All you have to do is survive. Whatever happens to me or my family or my friends, we will find a way to grow and find birds to sing along with. If there's so much grief in the future, then we can grieve when that time comes. In other words, canta y no llores. All you have to do is survive. Take it hour by the hour. Pick up the broom and get to work while you can.

Because I've talked too much, I wanted to remind everyone that my ebooks versions of my writing will always be free to read.

Maybe it'll come as a shock to you that a lot of ABM was about coping with losing a home forever, of remembering the feeling of wall paint that you will never feel again. But it's about survival too. I hope you all take care of yourselves as much as we can. This isn't a sad post! Go out and enjoy what you have! Go for a snack. Protect yourself however youre able to. I'm so lucky to have a birthday, to have lived this long. I hope my work will live on no matter how much the world might despise it. I've survived this far despite the world too, and so will ABM... I hope ! :)

[mik0is0bored]

"Don't say you don't have enough time."

Chapter i: Sick from Exauhstion

Megumi Fushiguro x Reader

Contents page !!

Offical playlist🎧

Note: I didn't like my original megumi x reader fic, and I've wanted to do a jjk college au for like a few weeks, so here's this <33

Note: i plan on making a playlist for this fic, so when I get around to that, I'll have it linked in the contents page!!

Description: You've begun your life as a college student this October. And boy, it is not as fun as it seemed in those corny, romance movies you always watched when the leaves changed color. College is stressful. Buying the correct textbooks, then trying to figure out where your dorm is, and the most stressful it seemed, was trying to figure out where the hell your first lecture is. The weeks roll by, and you feel more and more burnt out as the days crawled by, your mental health wasn't doing so good either. But when you met the spikey black haired guy with green eyes (who occasionally helps you study) you begin to hope that the stress will lighten up soon, that it won't last forever.

Tags: Megumi Fushiguro x fem!reader, burnt out reader, mentions of depression, suicide (one chapter!), swearing, no curses au, college au, peers to lovers au, SFW

Note: Taglist is open! Comment on this post or any post related to this fix or use inbox to request being added to the taglist!

Warnings for this chapter: mentions of self-harm, depression, low mental health, and suicidal ideation.

God, it's about time.

You sigh to yourself as you put the final box containing your belongings into your car. Today was the day you were leaving to move into the dorms at the university you had been accepted to.

High school had sucked. The burnout was affecting you. Three months wasn't enough of a break, but there wasn't anything you could do.

You waved goodbye to your parents, then slide your headphones over your head, and press play on your phones music app, before getting into your car, then tossing your phone in the passengers seat.

You began to drive down the street, past the places you grew up knowing. You never moved around as a kid, you moved once, because your parents' apartment was too small for a family of three to live in, plus there was a pest problem anyway.

You had only moved across town anyway.

You also didn't have many friends. You weren't as social as the other kids in your class. You were close with probably four people in elementary, maybe three, you don't really remember.

Grade school, it felt like all your friends left. They either abandoned you, or they moved away, with or without notice, it still hurt.

You were close with two people at the start of third grade until you met your best friend, whom you've known since then.

One of the three you had befriended in second grade more or less became an asshole. But it was fourth grade. Kids are emotional and annoying.

So, to put it nicely, he had become quite the jerk. But near the end of fourth grade, he was a little nicer.

Until he moved without notice. You still had your other two friends, though.

Then fifth grade passed, your best friend moved to another school for a year, and your other friend wasn't responding to messages.

That felt like the worst year and a half of your life, and it was also when your mental health started getting bad.

By the time it became seventh grade, your best friend had returned, and your other friend would talk to you occasionally.

Until she moved.

You'd known her the longest, and somehow, you felt nothing when she left. You've experienced loss time to time. You've had depression, even at the young age of 13.

So all you had left was your best friend, whom was now your only friend.

You and her navigated through highschool together, you talked about everything together.

You never had any arguments, just minor disagreements here and there.

But nothing that would affect the relationship you had with her.

Before you knew it, you had left your town you grew up in.

You were now on the highway.

You thought about your highschool years. Chemistry wasn't your strongsuit in your second year, and your English teacher wasn't the best.

You really liked health, it was easy, you felt like you got a break from education there.

You exhaled a shaky breath, feeling tears start burning your eyes.

You shook your head, hoping to get the urge to cry out of your system.

It didn't leave.

You began to fall towards rock bottom at the start of your second year. The burnout, the depression.

The urge to just die.

It all became to strong then. And it seemed like it didn't to away then.

That one week you had eight tests, you wanted to shut down and die.

That week, you added another cut to the collection of scars that seemed to accumulate on your wrist.

You hid the scars, and you hid the cuts.

The only time you opened up about them was when you typed a whole paragraph to your best friend.

How you promised you were getting better, but you'd relapse your actions by the end of the month. Pathetic of you, really.

Eventually, without knowing it, you began breaking down in your car, sobbing your eyes out.

But for your luck, you had finally made it to the university, so you let yourself sob like your life depended on it.

This year, you promised yourself if things didn't get better, if things got harder, and you felt like you couldn't cling onto someone to help keep you afloat, you'd end yourself.

Yeah sure, your parents said you were overdramatic when you told them you felt burnt out.

"Get over yourself"

"It'll get easier"

Yeah, like hell it did.

But you did promise yourself. This was a promise you'd keep. If you didn't find someone, you were done.

At this point, you had nothing to live for.

Megumi was sitting in the university dining hall, conversing with his best friend, Yuji, whom of course, was always exuberant as ever.

Megumi was partially paying attention, he had spent the whole night reading a twenty page syllabus, which if he remembered correctly, highschool didn't have this many pages to a damn syllabus.

He let out a tired yawn, humming and nodding to what Yuji was saying.

Yuji looked down at his friend, noticing Megumi had slumped in his seat, the side of his face pressed against the cold surface of the table before flicking his forehead.

Megumi grumbled, sitting up.

"What the hell was that for?"

Yuji chuckled sheepishly, as he rubbed the back of his neck and spoke.

"You seemed to be falling asleep there, I just wanted to see if you were still awake. I think you need to-"

Yuji hesitated when he felt his phone vibrate before checking his phone, before sighing and speaking.

"Todo wants to head to the gym with me. But what I was gonna say is you need to give yourself a break, maybe find someone."

Megumi raised an eyebrow, his usual phlegmatic tone apparent in his voice, with a twinge of exhaustion in there.

"'Find someone'? Like a romantic partner?"

Yuji nodded and pointed at him, as he began scooping up his things and shoving them in his bag before stepping backwards, calling to him.

"Exactly! Go find a girl or something! Or a guy! I'd support you either way!"

Yuji exclaimed as he ran into a cement pillar before turning around and running off to go meet up with Todo at the gym.

Megumi rolled his eyes and sighed. "Go find someone"? How the hell did he expect him to do that?

Megumi had been pretty antisocial his entire life. He didn't really have friends until he met Yuji and Nobara in high school. He felt like he didn't need anyone, frankly.

He huffed in annoyance as he pulled out his phone, casually scrolling for a little while. He eventually decided he would get up and head to his dorm, he really didn't have anything to do anyways.

He knew he had to read another 20 page syllabus when he got back to his dorm, but he honestly decided against it for now, just wanting to sleep before he did anything else.

He made his way back to his dorm, falling into his bed. And almost as if on cue, he began hearing... an electric guitar?

"Damn it all..."

Megumi muttered to himself before kicking the wall and calling

"Hey asshole. Play your guitar quietly, I'm trying to sleep"

The guitar stopped before the person on the other end spoke.

"Yeah, sure. Sorry."

Megumi let out a sigh of relief at that, knowing the guitar would stop for now. He eventually fell asleep, but in an hour or two's time, he woke up again, it now being 3:48 in the afternoon.

He looked for his phone before looking over the edge of his bed and sighed. Apparently, he was too tired to put his phone on his desk, so it ended up staying on his bed, and now resulting to laying face up on the floor.

Thankfully, the screen of his phone wasn't cracked.

He opened his phone, before checking the weather app. It was cold, but fhe weather was nice. 52 degrees, but no rain.

He looked out his window and saw how beautiful it looked outside, so he decided to take a walk around campus. It'd accomplish two things;

One, he'd get exercise, and that's never a bad thing. Two, it'd help him get used to the large campus, which compared to his high school, it made his high school look like a daycare.

He didn't bother changing out of his grey sweatpants and black t shirt, and he also didn't bother to fix his messy hair.

Megumi handled cold weather well, so he kept his jacket draped over his desk chair, only putting on a pair of black sneakers and his dorm keys, and his phone before walking out, and closing the door.

After your breakdown, you had quickly made your way to your room, which was across the hall from this guy. How'd you know? He was walking out of his room as you were walking into yours.

The guy had messy black hair and had been wearing grey sweatpants and a baggy black t shirt. You guys didn't converse, but you both nodded a greeting to one another. That's a start, you suppose.

You put the four boxes from your car in your dorm, throwing your blankets and pillows on the bed, filling the small closet and dresser with your clothes (which was mainly jeans, sweatpants, a few pairs of shorts, a TON of oversized band tees and several sweatshirts and hoodies).

You exhaled after you did that, then went onto the next thing. You had already bought the textbooks needed, and for now, you just kept them in the box you had packed them in back home.

You felt too exauhsted to even do more.

The burnout you felt shouldn't be like this, since your lectures would start tomorrow, but you couldn't help it. Your job over the summer as well as the lingering stress and exauhstion from graduation was still there.

You threw yourself on your bed before sighing. Damn, was all of your time at university gonna be like this? Hopefully not.

As you let your mind wander, it fell back to the promise you made to yourself.

One more year. If it's just as bad or worse, you're ending it.

You exhaled quietly, before pulling up the sleeve to your sweatshirt, looking at the several markings made on your wrist. Scars were either a faint pink, symbolizing being older than others, or the redder ones, signifying they're newer.

And even the cuts that scabbed over, you felt the urge to pick st them until they bled again. The urge was strong. You felt like you needed to.

Like it wad a necessity.

You shoved it to the back of your mind. No, don't cut or pick at scabs today, you did yesterday and the day before.

But it was so. Damn. Tempting.

You clutched your wrist with your other hand, squeezing it tightly before sighing. You for up from your bed to grab a cup of instant noodles and headed for the dorm buildings kitchen, to boil the noodles.

Shit, you almost forgot.

You picked up your jacket you had taken off before pulling it back over your head and put on slip-on sandals and headed out your door.

Ooh first chapter<33

This might also be the longest chapter of anything I've ever written so round of applause👏

For the most part, everything abt the friend abandonment and the burnout and all that lovely stuff is stuff from my life so I wanted add a part of myself to this fic and I think so far it's coming out really nicely

This chapter might seem a little dark, the intention for this fic is mostly angst and a bit of sweet stuff here and there (that'll happen when reader and Megumi meet, which is more than likely the next chapter

Idk how ppl will react to this but I hope ppl like it >//<

Taglist is still open! Comment on this post/main contents post/inbox to request being added!

Taglist: @theremainsof @missunrise @1l-ynn @cloudserenity

[almostloverboy]

No one say anything about this post, it's my way of coping with the stress of the election.

Tommy down the hall looks even better than last week. His beard is a little fuller and his arms are... firmer. He somehow always manages to catch the girl staring at him shyly when they pass in the halls or around the neighborhood. The way her eyes linger over his body holding something than sexual desire. Something much deeper. She always looked away quickly when she was caught so she didn't see the way Tommy's eyes noticed her body and her own discomfort with it.

So, when passing in the stairway, Tommy mentions that he's got this sick new movie that she's just gotta see. "I think it'll really speak to ya." He offers like she needed to be convinced. She nodded and immediately caught herself being too eager. The embarrassment still showed on her face when she was walking into his apartment later that night.

Tommy puts on Fight Club. She's never seen it before but she's literally sitting on the edge of her seat by the end. Tommy studies her response and at the end he mentions something about how he loved this movie before he came out. Had she ever thought about coming down to his gym sometime? He remembered her mentioning something about wanting to try bulking but was worried about what her shitty ex-boyfriend might say about it if she did. He was so glad when that frothing Trump humper was out of her life. She was ready now to do much more important things.

"I'll take you tomorrow. The guys at the gym are gonna love you." Tommy mutters, slipping a joint between her lips. Wait, hadn't he lit her up just a couple minutes ago? Her head is swimming and Tommy keeps whispering about how handsome she'll be once the hormones kick in. He had old binders she could borrow.

He doesn't cut her hair until after giving her the shot, though, because he wanted something to hold onto while he did it. At some point, her pants had disappeared and Tommy was pressed up on her bare skin when he pricked her with the needle and injected her very first dose of T. "And you've gotta think of a name that suits you better than the one you have now. Honestly, I don't know how you've handled being called that for so long." The haircut felt like shedding off layers of personality other people gave her over the years. Before she knew it, everything she thought about herself laid on the floor, trimmed to pieces by those loud, ugly clippers and Tommy's gentle hand.

The night ends in Tommy's bed and he's teaching his sweet little boyfriend how to take it up the ass like a real man. "Come on, dude, you don't really want me to fuck you like a girl, do you? It's cool, don't worry, I promise you'll cum for me anyway."

[katerinaaqu]

You definitely are much kinder than I am. Like you know I got annoyed almost at everything! I was letting go of Polyphemus and what we got with Athena because it was still low-key following the plot (we don't talk on the Winions! Lol!) but yeah Circe I think was my my first major cringe. I also cringed at Tiresias because of how chopped off his prophecy was but it was saved a bit by the music in my ear but the way that he showed him jack shit on his way somehow prepared me that the ending would be TOTALLY messy but I held onto it and then Sirens happened. THE MOST ICONIC moment was chopped to that way and that was my arguably second MAJOR cringe becase even if people never heard of the Odyssey they still heard of the sirens.

Sirens are the proof on Odysseus's thirst for knowledge; his need to experience things in his trip he had no reason to hear the Sirens apart from his natural curiosity. Just to prove he can! And to show how he often takes painful decisions in his way. The way it was treated solely to save the plot hole from Circe's absence of information and the way that they casually did it to show the "monster" theme was just sacriligeous to me. The way Odysseus was treated in Skylla had me knowing that we were up for disaster so when God Games came out I knew that the gods were no longer treated as gods but as comic book figures and dudes to face. And yeah we get to the final part where it became clear...I just can't!

You sure are much kinder than I am!

I like Epic, but I think the worst thing it brought to the odyssey fandom is that some people now think that Odysseus could have easily refused Circe out of love for his wife, and Circe would accept it and be even impressed by this.

[sammyvhs]

home : 1.09 pt1 — jess’s sister.

You’re not stupid. At least you hope not. You pray you’re not. You knock on their motel door a little less sure of the fact, maybe it’ll increase in confidence when you see them.

It doesn’t. The second your eyes lock with Sam’s half-asleep ones you’re positive your breath hitches just enough that your heart stops beating momentarily. His messy hair, his exhausted expression, the dark bags under his eyes even him still wearing jeans and a shirt.

“Hey, you came.” You nod and lean into the hug he pulls you in for. His cologne is palpable, the same one he used to wear in Stanford and it’s comforting for you to know he hasnt thrown the bottle away.

“I came.” You whisper, letting go and stepping inside when he moves to let you in. Dean’s on a bed, looks like he’s sleeping peacefully. You wish you could too but everytime you close your eyes your sister is on the ceiling. Sometimes she’s calling out for you to help. Other times she’s telling you that you’re the reason she’s gone. Your carelessness. You didn’t lock the doors. The windows, you were fast, you didn’t hear anything, you—

“You okay?” Sam pulls you away from the dark thoughts and you nod. “Okay well, Dean’s asleep and I don’t think we’ll talk much right now, you can catch a few hours.” you nod at the offer, thanking him quietly. You're still in jeans yourself but you don't mind since you're not sure you’ll be sleeping. 

“I’ll take the couch.” he stares at you like you just said bruised his ego then shakes his head. “Sam, im serious, i dont sleep—”

“Vampire?” he jokes half heartedly and you smile.

“I just mean i usually take power naps. Please, sam, just take the bed.” he ends up pulling you on it next to him and you’re not sure why for the first time in months you fall asleep with no nightmares.

Sam doesnt. Sam wakes up suddenly, forcing you out of your sleep, to a nightmare. You’re shuddering thinking of the fact that you felt that safe in your dead sister’s boyfriend’s arms.

You pretend you’re asleep until sam’s breath gets softer and peel yourself off the bed and to the couch. Theres not much to do at four in the morning so you read, you snoop around for a bit, wonder how much sam would hate you if you opened his bag, and eventually take another nap on the couch. 

Still no nightmare, you wake up to the sound of Dean’s boots tapping against on the floor. You quickly sit up a little, taking in your surroundings.

“‘Morning, sweetheart.” your lips apart, sure you're going to respond like a normal human with ‘good morning’ but it doesn’t come, you just nod. “Want coffee?” only then do you notice the two paper cups in his hand.

“Sure, thanks, Dean.”

“Didn’t know what you liked so i got it cream and sugar.”

“It’s good, that’s how i usually take it.” totally not true, you actually take it with milk but you’re not sure you’re staying long enough for him to have to know that. He smiles at you, taking a seat next to you on the couch. “I’m sorry for showing up so suddenly, Dean.” you mumble before trying the coffee. It’s not bad, not your usual taste but definitely still enjoyable.

“‘S no problem, you’re always welcome with us, i gave you my number so you could call me at anytime.” you can’t be held responsible for any of the fluttery feelings in your stomach after that. 

“I guess… i felt like i was slipping, you know? My parents— me and jess never talked to them and they didn’t even call me when she died, i literally had no one, as pathetic as it sounds. Our dad’s side hates us, my mum’s side is on the opposite side of the world and they’ve been calling me but it’s not the same. Its not fair to do this to you two but i dont now what else to do, i just wish someone would tell me.” you're not certain when the first tear started flowing but your thankful its the only one.

“Hey, we’re here for you. Always.” Somehow, you don’t believe it.

[bewilderedbunny]

.

[123pixieaod]

Inspired by this godly post which unlocked a part of my brain I didn't know existed, and solidly gave me complete and utterly brainrot until I wrote something

A thousand thanks to Lily for her wonderful help :))

"Does Kelly not mind you spending all your time with me?" Daniel asks, because she's Daniel and once she's thought something she can't keep her fucking mouth shut, even if she knows it's trouble.

Max looks up, pausing his set of weights, and blinks at her. Daniel feels her cheeks warm. One day, that mouth of yours will run you straight into trouble, young lady, her mum used to tell her, voice firm. Good girls know when to keep quiet. Daniel used to just laugh at the warning. Her laugh is loud and the opposite of quiet, but she used to know that everyone always loved her laugh.

"No," Max says after a beat and then continues lifting. Daniel hates the way her gaze tracks over him, lingering on the movement of his muscles, the ease with which he lifts the weight. Tawny hair brushed out of his eyes, cheeks dusted warm from the exertion. "Of course not."

"Why of course not?" Daniel asks. She wants to sew her mouth shut. This time, Max didn't look over as he answers.

"Kelly's very secure, she's not like other girls. And besides, she knows you."

It's strange. When Daniel was seven and Michelle eleven, they'd gone rock pool fishing. Michelle had been crouched over a shallow pool of water, her finger delicately brushing the tentacles of the anemone. Daniel had been scaling the rocks, wanting steeper, taller, more.

She'd found the shark first, nestled high at between the rocks, and for a beat she hadn't known what she was looking at. Just details, but nothing collective. Rotting smell. Shrivelled holes where eyes should be. Scales of silver lightning. Rubbery fish picked clean. The flash of bone, pearl white.

Then she realised what she was staring at, and screamed. Her father held her while her mother scolded her. I told you not to go climbing! It's too dangerous, Daniel. Why can't you just be good like your sister and stay by the shallow pools?

And then, later, ice cream. Her dad, beside her, explaining the horror away.

It's just nature, Dani. The waves wash them up, and they get stuck there. They can't get back to the sea, and then the sun dries them out.

They drown on air, Michelle helpfully pointed out, her feet kicking happily as she licked her 99. Daniel just just nodded, ice cream untouched. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw the sunken holes, the rotting flesh.

She hasn't thought about that moment for years, but suddenly it washes back over her. She feels simultaneously both. The child, staring at the carcass, frozen in shock. The shark, burning up in the sun, chocking on air.

"What does that mean?" She asks, and somehow her voice is normal, is fine. She's fine. She's not a girl or a shark. She's stupid and a fool and a gawky, ugly idiot, but she's fine.

Max manages to shrug, even with the 50kg weights. "You know. Just that Kelly knows you. She knows what you're like. And she knows me too, of course."

Daniel swallows. She nods. She hates everything about herself.

"That's sexist," she forces herself to say lightly because if the silence stretches anymore, Max might notice and set his weights down and look at her, and Daniel can't bear that. She doesn't want his eyes on her, taking in every blemish and imperfection. The boyish, ratty clothes she works out in and her curls gone frizzy with sweat and her inked skin, so different to Max and Kelly's pale, perfect complexions.

"What's sexist?"

"Saying she's not like other girls," Daniel tells him, setting down the weights she been doing. Instead, she goes to grab the skipping rope, just for something to do.

Max laughs. Daniel's glad she's turned away. Her cheeks are burning again.

"It's the truth. You, of course, Daniel, are not like other girls either." He says it lightly and ends with a chuckle, as if it's all just a joke. Daniel drags a sweaty hand over her cheeks. Burning, burning, burning.

Apparently, in Max's mind, she and Kelly are the same; both not like other girls. Kelly, with her faultless makeup and wonderful daughter and classy dresses and perfect feminity. One end of the scale. Daniel, the other. Barely even considered "a girl." Always one of the boys, only woman in f1 for a reason.

"Thanks," Daniel says. She wants to make it sound humorous, like she's in on the joke too. Instead, it's too cold; muttered as if she actually gave two shits about the conversation anyway. She has an F1 season to prepare for, she's too busy to care about stupid shit like this.

There's a beat of silence as Daniel stretches out the rope, feeling the plastic flex and give. Then, Max exhaling, the gentle bump of his weights against the floor, the workout bench shifting as his centre of gravity changes. Daniel keeps her back to him, ignoring it all.

"I did not mean it as insult," Max finally says, stubborn. Daniel forces a laugh, turning to give him a smile, all teeth.

"Of course not Maxy. I get that." Voice light and blithe. One of the boys.

She thinks he'll drop it, but instead, his frown only grows. Pinched brows, thin lips, cheeks growing blotchy. Blue eyes regard her, intense and unyielding. She burns from the inside out.

"I've upset you," he says, in that blunt, genuine way only he can do. Daniel barks out another laugh.

"Don't be stupid. You're not important enough to ever be able to get under my skin." She gives him another smile with only teeth. She feels insane. Her mother tells her good girls stay quiet.

"I'm sorry," he tries again, growing frustrated now, "I did not mean -"

"I told you, you didn't upset me," she drops the skipping rope without actually using it. "Anyway, I'm bored. Wanna get lunch now? Or are you still trying to pump those muscle with more testosterone?"

Max gives her one last, searching look before standing. They're almost the same height. She wants to shrink to nothing.

"That is not how testosterone works, Daniel," he says with the air of an overworked teacher. He looks at her with a smile, uncertain but genuine. She laughs, allowing him to move the conversation on.

She walks out of the gym first but holds the door for him. He grins, relieved. His fingers skim hers as he takes it and she lets go. A chill runs through her. Cold like scales, cold like ice cream untouched.

Follow up here!

[lovely-p-issues]

Okay, you've made me realise that I misspoke in my previous response (and I used italics incorrectly lmao)

I'll start with the most important one - yes, I do think that until the very end Ody saw Eurylochus as his friend (as you wrote, he literally appears as a ghost alongside his mum and Polites)

However. I think this relationship was incredibly damaged by everything that happened, and these most important relationships have a way of being strengthened by tragedies. That's why, despite all my love for this character, after everything he and Ody did to each other, I could never vote for him

But I just need to address your really good points and how I look at it

sacrificing the crew

Yes, my mistake, abandoning the crew on the island of Kirke could be called reasonable - I meant rather to point out that sacrificing six men was also essentially the best tactic for survival, in a situation where you are in the middle of nowhere, chased by a god of sea and have to sail somewhere (but surely there is something much darker about deliberately choosing the death of six men than refusing to save them, even if it was ultimately to reduce the bloodshed associated with pointless battle)

(just to be clear, none of these decisions lie with my general view on the world, they are simply comparable in my eyes)

My point was rather that, of all people, Eurylochus could understand Odysseus - he himself was prepared to do something very similar, yet he completely ignored it and started a mutiny (I wonder now if the crew ever found out that Eurylochus had refused to save them…)

Nor does Eurylochus ever deny this plea by Odysseus in Mutiny:

Don't make me fight you, brother, you know you'd have done the same If you want all the power, you must carry all the blame

I interpret this as Eurylochus saying "that's true, but at the end of the day it was you who made that decision, so we can blame you for this"

while we're on Mutiny….

I just remembered how annoyed I was that the moment the crew, headed by Eurylochus, realised how badly they had screwed up, they immediately turn to Odysseus. Odysseus, whom they had just removed from power, thinking they knew better.

In a normal situation, I wouldn't put up with telling a person close to me very clearly ‘don't do that, there will be consequences’, but when it actually happens, they look at me, expecting me to somehow solve the problem

Eurylochus's advice

Did Odysseus need a man who could pull him down to earth? Absolutely.

The problem is that Eurylochus does it in public, in front of the entire crew, not only trying to talk sense into Odysseus, but sowing doubt among the crew.

When Ody pulls him aside at the end of Luck Runs Out this is practically the first thing he points out to him. A captain making a mistake is a terrible thing, but a crew left to their own devices…. well, Mutiny showed that, despite his flaws, Odysseus made better decisions most of the time (motivated by a desire to get home) than they did, focused more on the present moment, hunger and fatigue.

But even putting tactics aside - I think the friends know best that a public confrontation is not the best idea. While we obviously don't know how Odysseus would have reacted to a private conversation with Eurylochus - it seems to me personally that at least he could have focused on what was being said to him, rather than making sure his men don't fall apart.

I will end here, because we can point those thing for eternity and I didn't even started rating about Odysseus's mistakes as a friend-

I just don't think Eury was a really good friend in general. He was a decent man, he was trying his best, he was obviously tired and broken, but looking from perspetive of the first question, he just... doesn't stand a chance

And I still love him tho.

(i will probably get through every character in survey when it's finished lmao)

(i regret setting seven days instead of one for this)

[dykedragons]

ogh i had another really good time at my frands house im thinkin this is becoming a theme

[barbiegirldream]

while a lot of these questions are unanswered I think some of them do have answers

I don't think the merger was meant to be anything in reality which is why it is weird it was so hyped up. But like... why would Sukuna wanted to have merged with humanity? Of course he ate that shit and moved on

Yuji and Megumi choose to save each other and not even joking. It's the first thing they do and all they continue to do. And Gojo's personal devotion to each and every student he takes in. We see in the end Sukuna choosing Uruame after they chose him always as another example of this. Like I think choosing to devote yourself to someone is the point. Without Love it all falls apart

7. The characters like Mei Mei to the extent they can pay her. Gojo trusted her and so do they. Ui Ui was one of the most helpful people in the Shinjuku Showdown. I think the two of them will remain in the MCs lives for the rest of it

8. I think from the final shot Jujutsu Society is the rest of Jujutsu Tech and whoever else they can recruit

9. It kind of did? When he got sealed at least. Maki destroyed the Zenin. The Kamo are as useless as ever. But the Jujutsu World existed long before Gojo and will seemingly exist long after him. There's a reason he told Yuji he has so much confidence because he trained his kids to be the successors he wanted.

10. Absolutely with no doubt in my mind it will somehow end up as Yuta's problem to control the government but that's just a hc so

11. I mean Kenjaku pretty clearly killed Jin before leaving Yuji right like I feel as if that was what Wasuke was warning him was going to happen. And then Kenjaku simply moved on to other evil plans so that's what happened to Yuji's parents...

12. I don't think the cycle of curses would end because they never answered the cursed energy question. BUT I think Sukuna's cycle is over which was the point of his ending scenes.

14. Literally who and what is going to walk up to Yuta, Yuji, Megumi, Maki, etc and demand they answer for anything?

16. She wasn't a role nor is Megumi really her henchman but no one else would let Megumi apologize or take responsibility so he's using her arm chomping as an outlet for all of his guilt

JJK Finale - All the questions and still no answers

As the JJK finale is nearing and the last two chapters were so ass a total random dump, many questions I had about the story piled up. Here they are:

What about the merger?

What was the point of it at all?

Kenjaku's backstory and objective??!!

What about society's reaction to the existance of curses?

What will USA and other countries do about Japan?

Why are totally random and unrelevant characters alive and suddenly relevant??!!

Why isn't Mei Mei in jail?

What is going to happen to the jujutsu society after the Big Three Families fall to ruin?

Would't the balance of jujutsu world collapse after Gojo died? Or did he?

Who's going to be the mediator between jujutsu society and the government now that the higher ups are dead?

What the hell happened to Yuji's parents?

So did the "cycle of curses" end with Sukuna's death? I don't think so

What was the point of mentioning it then?

Why hasn't anyone come after the sorcerers and demand some explanation?

Why is everone so chill after what happened???

What is Kurusu's role in any of the aftermath and why Megumi needs to be her henchman?

I just don't get it. There is just one chapter left and honestly I have no hope those questions will ever be answered. And somehow it doesn't feel to me like the "Happy announcement" at the end of chapter 271 is going to be jjk part 2 what everone wants it to be.

Gege just puzzles me.

At this point I'm just curious...

[sysig]

:D ♪