#dont get even get me started on how they are as PEOPLE | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

mins-fins · 3 days ago

Text

ANGEL EYES. — [L.MH] [PT. 1]

❝ sometimes, it feels as if mark lee is your guardian angel ❞

SYNOPSIS: innocent cherub eyes, gently soft hands, a heart of gold, mark lee is the golden boy whose experienced as much love as he gives back. his grades are high, his smile is wide, and his laughter is sweet. the only reason mark lee gets embroiled in a world of trouble is because of his pairing with the 'messed up foster kid' in a school project. it would be stupid to ever let himself get involved, but mark does anyway.

PAIRING: mark lee x male!reader

GENRE: mid–2000s au, high school au, strangers to lovers, fluff, angst, hurt/comfort, humor(?), slow burn, one sided pining to mutual pining, sadness as a romantic segway, relationship study, reader is a foster kid, mark pov, happy ending.. (i suppose)

WARNINGS: swearing, explicit language, violence, drug abuse, child abuse & neglect, family issues, mentions of death, smoking, homophobia, reader simply has the worst time and mark sobs about his circumstances, an awful amount of love that isn't realized to be love

WORD COUNT: 20.8k

NOTES: hey, hi, hello, its me isa mins-fins back with another BANGER 😍‼️ make sure to hit that subscribe button for more epic fanfiction 😋💥 okay but seriously, i've been writing this for almost TWO MONTHS (began in aug, first part wrapped up in nov) and its been a journey holy shit 😭😭 i dont remember why i randomly started this draft but i did and now its become this monstrosity, almost 21k words and were only halfway there, sorry, there's unfortunately more suffering awaiting, but dont worry, happy ending!! of course, user junjiie, i love you 💗, thank you for again listening to my unhinged rants about this thing and consuming all of the spoilers, you deserve love, and an endless supply of mark photocards 😊😊 as for everybody else who reads my stuff, thank you for sticking around despite the fact that i disappeared for about three weeks, please enjoy this mess 🤗

PREVIEW | NEXT

BEFORE IT WAS IN THE CRISP AUTUMN ATMOSPHERE, mark lee had met you at the local police station. it was only a few months prior, august of 2004 brought the prospect of donghyuck doing everything to try and get arrested, prospects that mark could only respond with under the breath swears. he loves donghyuck, he really does, but driving shouldn't have been his first choice. in all of the friendships mark has had with other people in his life, donghyuck has always brought a wave of chaos along with him, the exact opposite of who mark's mom would advise him to stay away from, but she'd always had a soft spot for him, mark can't exactly blame her.

fresh off turning seventeen and utterly clueless as to what the future would bring, mark only found himself at the police station for one reason. donghyuck had driven without a license. yep, sixteen years old and he assumed doing an illegal u-turn was the way to end his summer.

mark has always been a stand up kid. the kind who handed out his mom's cookies to the neighbors. the kind who called for stray cats in alleyways. the kind who was simply an innocent bystander to all the bullshit his friends would pull.

so when donghyuck called him from a jail phone, voice heightened in indignation as he begged for mark to come make a case for him, the older really had no choice but to do so. mark had never been to a police station before, afraid of catching sight of real criminals in the flesh by just walking past the building. he had watched too many scary stories, had terrible ideas of human beings planted in his head.

and even as a seventeen year old who had experienced life enough that such things shouldn't have terrified him anymore, there was still a small pit in his stomach as he rounded the corner in direction of the building.

"and how exactly am i supposed to bail you out?" an eyebrow raise accompanied mark's inquiry, and donghyuck scoffed as he shook his cuffed hands.

"you don't have to bail me out, my dad knows the sheriff, i'm just getting off with a warning" he whispered, sweat on his brow as he shared that familiar 'no shit' look with mark (an ironic expression really, he's the only one between the two of them that's been in cuffs).

mark snickered. "you talk so much when you're the one handcuffed".

"watch your mouth, you need me".

just as donghyuck was about to let out a swear in addition to his snappy response, said sheriff walked into the room, tight lipped smile painting his face. "don't try that again donghyuck, or next time you'll end up in a cell".

in a instant, donghyuck's blood ran cold, mark almost laughed at the sight, but he remained still, watching. the older man glanced up, catching mark's anxiety ridden eyes. "and you are?"

"this is mark, my best friend" donghyuck was quick to quip, a hand placed onto his shoulder.

mark's stomach dropped to his feet, it isn't as if he did anything wrong, it was simply on par for him to be severely anxious around law enforcement in general, he was just afraid he'd somehow get arrested for nothing at all.

"ohhh i remember you, i used to assume you two were brothers".

mark let out a breathy (and clearly faked) chuckle, trying to bury his anxiety. he could never explain it, even if you gave him all the words to, it's not like he's a bad kid, he just finds himself tensing often. "no, just friends.."

"it's good to have someone so close as support" he narrowed his eyes at donghyuck, who stifled his scoff at the clear sarcasm lacing his tone. he then scrunched his nose, watching as donghyuck placed a performative smile on his lips. "now you, sir, we need to have a talk".

donghyuck frowned, whining out complaints as he's dragged away by the sheriff. "can you wait, mark?"

mark blinked, shoving his hands into his pant pockets. he nodded, out of words. the two bantered back and forth like friends, something mark could only stare idly at. he made his way over to the seats beside the door, where, nestled in the corner of one of them, was you.

you were scribbling something into your notebook, unaware of the eyes on you. mark sat two chairs away from you, tapping his feet onto the floor as he heard the faint sounds of scoldings. safe driving, don't get into a car without a license, your future won't be any better if you continue this shit.

swearing at a child, mark found that rich. he glances beside him again, now watching you intently. you were engrossed in the manner your pen scratched against your paper, mark had figured out through endless staring that you hadn't been writing, but drawing.

you avoided his eyes for a while, ignorant to the eyes gazing you up and down. you then glanced in mark's direction, almost startling him out of his seat with the sudden stare. you blinked, puzzled out of your mind. "is there something on my face?"

mark tensed in his seat, feeling his stomach swirl, was he staring so much that you felt offended? he felt guilty immediately, his lips parting immediately and releasing a silent breath. "no.. no i'm sorry, i didn't mean to".

you shrugged your shoulders, one click to your pen. mark recognized you, but he simply couldn't conjure up an explanation as to why you were sitting in a police station at this time, drawing whatever into your notebook. "so why are you staring then?"

"i'm trying to figure out why you're here" mark muttered, fingers fiddling with his necklace as he tried to get his tone straight in fear of again offending you. "i'm sure you aren't committing crimes".

"i can say the same for you, mr golden boy".

mark's lips turned up slightly, his hands twitching from where they rested on his lips. "i got kicked out.. always come here to let dad and mom cool off for a few hours".

the words earned an eyebrow raise from mark, that was strange to hear, especially from another person in regards to their own parents. mark had never really experienced such a thing, the way you described it made his nose scrunch. "what?"

before you could respond to that one, a police officer entered the room, one you seemed to recognize by the way your eyes lit up. "come on l/n, time to go".

a frown settled onto your lips. "do i really have to go now? you know how my parents are.."

"i can't keep you here, it would technically be illegal".

"it's not like they'll care anyway.." you mumbled, slamming your notebook shut with yet another click to your pen. "just an hour longer, please?"

there was a sense of hope in your eyes, maybe he would actually take your words into account. mark simply stared, staggered by what he was witnessing. the officer watched the change of your expressions, your thumb playing at the button on your pen, continuously clicking over and over. as the clicks amplified, so did the sound of your labored breathing.

"you know i can't do that kid".

your frown deepened, teeth sinking into your bottom lip. worry, that's what mark remembered. your eyes widened, but not in the usual shock, simply in disappointment. you cursed under your breath, muttering something about your parents getting pissed at your reappearance. you stopped clicking your pen, letting the chagrin settle onto you. "yeah.."

you sucked your teeth, imitating the look of a sulky child. mark was consumed by his silence, completely confused by the situation. he didn't give a comment, simply watched the whole entire thing happen. "i'll give you a few minutes, don't worry".

you didn't respond to that one, your eyes following the police officer who strolled out the door towards his car. you bit into your lip again, hands grasping onto your notebook and thumb still pressing onto your pen. "what bullshit".

mark continued staring, his hands clutching at his thighs. you then glanced at him once more, causing for him to flinch back. you stayed silent, watching him as much as he did you a few minutes prior.

"are you alright?" he muttered, leaving his voice at a low volume. he didn't want to raise it, he wanted to keep it at a volume that kept you comfortable.

you snickered, clicking your tongue against the roof of your mouth. "fine, going home is just my worst nightmare".

mark's fingers found themselves sliding across his legs, teeth sliding against each other in back and forth motions. he blinked his big brown eyes, staring with an assured gaze he hoped would somehow make it's way to you. "i'm sorry".

he whispered those two words as if he was in physical pain, eyes watering for an inexplainable moment. he couldn't help it, and he had no idea why he couldn't help it. it was embarrassing how much he felt at the moment.

you stared back, lips pursuing. your expressions did at least seventy transformations, as if you were in disbelief at someone having empathy for you. you seemed distraught, why is he tearing up? that's so strange.

you chuckled, hoping it would quell his worries. "it's okay, not like it's your fault".

"still, you shouldn't have to feel that way about going home.. your parents shouldn't be kicking you out".

you grimaced, put off by the words. it isn't as if they were terrible, you just seemed.. astonished. why did he care? it was simply weird to you.

"well thank you for your concern but i'll be fine".

mark blinked away the tears threatening to escape his eyes, god what was wrong with him? why did he even tear up at that? he totally weirded you out.

"yeah um.. i'm sorry" mark bit into his inner cheek, letting out a heavy sigh. "just have a good day" a theatric smile placed itself on his lips, he was definitely trying to convince himself that it wasn't that bad of a situation.

you stared longer, seemingly itching to say something. there were words resting on the tip of your tongue, mark could practically sense it. "yeah, you too".

and when you stood up to walk out of the door, donghyuck coincidentally escaped the clutches of the sheriff, stumbling out of his office with his arms crossed over his chest. the door closed behind you, and mark watched the entire time.

"what took you so long?" mark uttered, eyes casting donghyuck's way.

the younger huffed in his usual donghyuck manner, hands on his hips. "he was giving me a big talk about safe driving" he placed heavy air quotes around the last two words, lips curled into a frown.

mark licked his teeth, his thoughts retracing back to you. "do you know him..?"

donghyuck blinked, his mouth opening to ask about who until he saw the way mark motioned his head. "y/n? oh yeah, he's around here all the time, the officers basically take him in whenever.."

"why?"

his voice scratched like sandpaper, donghyuck wincing at the tone. he then shrugged his shoulders, his attitude puzzled. "something about his parents not really caring, it's pretty shitty".

mark's lips parted in a freezing motion, his stomach pain only worsening. "that's scary.. feeling safer at the police station than your own home".

"i don't know much about his situation, just know his parents have a terrible temper".

mark swallowed the lump in his throat, his head beginning to pound at the information given. he tried to distract himself by thinking about school coming up soon, but he was snapped back into reality by donghyuck.

"why are you even asking me about y/n?"

mark glanced up at his childhood friend, a small whisper in his mind telling him to lie. "just curious that's all".

the lie laid bitter on his tongue, but he didn't allow for donghyuck to dwell on it, rising from the chair he practically glued himself to. "promise me you'll never illegally drive again, the officers here look like they wanna kill me".

donghyuck rolled his eyes, tease evident in his attitude. "okay markie, promise".

mark pushed his shoulder in retaliation.

that? that was two months ago.

before the crisp autumn weather drifted through the atmosphere, before the leaves began falling to decorate the ground in orange and brown hues, mark lee had met you at the local police station. your legs crossed, pen clicking, and nose buried into your notebook.

september came and went rather quickly, the scorching heat of the summer air transforming into the russet autumn scenery which drifts into october. the temperature steadily dropping, sweaters becoming more and more common in his closet, mark can't exactly focus in class during the first few months of school.

when mark hears his name fall from his teacher's lips in pair with yours, he snaps out of an episode of disassociation, blinking up. "what?"

his teacher deadpanned, readjusting her glasses. she doesn't even seem surprised by his lack of focus anymore, his exhaustion is constantly evident. "project partners mark, you'll be paired with y/n".

mark only parts his lips in response, the words rendering him speechless. he glances around the classroom as he listens to the older woman's voice blurs into the background, catching sight of you in the far back, again scribbling into your notebook, your manner reminiscent of how you acted the first time you two met.

he stares for a while before again looking forward, his mouth going dry as he tries again to focus, but of course, he can't. his mind stays focused on you throughout the whole class, even after the endless words he lets blur away.

you spin your pen between your fingers, it's the same pen you had that day, maybe you have some sort of attachment to it or something, maybe it's your favorite pen, maybe someone special gifted that pen to you.

maybe mark's letting it all get to his head, why is he even making assumptions when he hasn't walked up to you yet?

while everyone else rushes to leave the class, mark rises from his seat and again glances over at you, slinging his back over his shoulder.

you're riveted by what you're doing in your notebook, so absorbed that you barely hear the shuffling footsteps making their way around the many desks towards yours. your lips turn down as you smudge the ink on the page, a small suck of the teeth adding to your frustration.

"um.. hi" mark whispers, watching as you glance up and pause, one click to your pen. you don't respond immediately, studying mark for a while, and mark tenses up under your gaze, sucking a breath between his teeth.

"hi".

"we uh— were partners for the project".

your smile is neutral. "i know".

mark began biting the skin off his lips, hands gripping at his backpack. "i don't know where you want to start, uh.. maybe we could go to the library?"

he's just saying what he's hoping will work. he doesn't exactly know you yet, he assumes your one off interaction at the police station left a sour taste in your mouth.

but unbeknownst to mark's anxious inner voice, you smile, not exactly a neutral one this time, a much better smile ('better' in terms of expression, your lips stretch into an aspect of satisfaction).

"that'd be nice".

mark nods, almost too enthusiastically he thinks. how embarrassing. you let out a silent yawn, oblivious to the battle mark is having in his head. "tomorrow maybe we can start?"

your smile again becomes neutral, but at least mark doesn't think you want to kill him. "yeah, tomorrow is fine".

tomorrow. tomorrow is fine.

"okay, have a good day y/n".

mark rushes out of the classroom much too fast, he feels a little terrified of you. maybe you don't exactly want to kill him, maybe you just look at everyone else in that way, maybe it won't be that bad to be paired with you.

still, mark isn't sure why his mind tells him he should stay away from you.

THE NEXT DAY GOES AS USUAL, DAD AND MOM bicker at the breakfast table, leave kisses on mark's forehead before letting him go off. the heightened smell of pine was all that met mark's nose, his senses freaking out as he stepped into the cool october air. it's still eight in the morning, it shouldn't be this cold. just a month ago the sun was attempting to burn off his skin with it's murderous rays, and now it's obscured behind gray clouds. hopefully it doesn't rain, he forgot to bring an umbrella, and mom would kill him if he turned up at home with his clothes drenched. he assumes that he's gotten pretty good at predicting the weather, and judging by the pattern the clouds form in the sky, it won't rain today.

history is his last class of the day, and mark immediately found out that history is the only class you two share. donghyuck runs his mouth in his ear all day, something about junior year really being the one where you lose your identity, mutterings about drinking and partying falling from his lips.

his chin leans against his hand as he complains about jaemin not giving him homework answers, and mark releases a small sigh, drawing a small snort from his best friend. "you getting bored of me now?" he's quick to ask, aggressively shoving his shoulder against mark's.

mark grunts, nose scrunching as he sees the elation donghyuck shows. "you've been talking forever, do you not get tired?"

"someone has to entertain you".

"i'm not entertained, i'm annoyed".

donghyuck huffs, an eye roll being his response to mark's insult. he never lets it get to his head, donghyuck has always been the least sensitive between the two of them. his lips curl up into yet another smile of glee, overjoyed by mark's irritation.

"it's the seniority getting to you, grandpa".

mark shares an incredulous with him, scoffing as he grabs his bag from where he let it sit beside him. giggles spill from donghyuck's lips, his face red at the sight of mark's furrowed eyebrows. "not even a year older than you.."

"you're still old!"

donghyuck sings out the words in the way of a melodic tune, whistling in the air. mark again mutters something about not being old, and donghyuck sticks out his tongue. "see you later oldie".

mark's face scrunches, but he bid donghyuck a goodbye anyway. he's been a constant in his life, getting called old by an annoying sixteen year old isn't exactly the kind of thing that puts stress on his life, he'll be fine, there's definitely worse the world could throw at him, and lee donghyuck just barely scratches the surface.

after lunch, he has history for a double period. he usually disassociates through the first forty five minutes, his teacher is a nice woman, yes, but she takes so long to get to the point. he's read through the topics time and time again, he's simply relearning them to get the last few credits he needs to graduate.

he'll be done by the time the second semester rolls around, so that isn't much of a worry.

when he slides into his seat, he wants to crane his head back to look for you, but just as his head connects the dots, attendance begins, and he hears you mutter a small 'here' when the teacher calls your name.

"mark lee?"

he glances up, straightening his posture. "here" he replies, licking his lips.

the dragging of your pen against the paper of your notebook stops, mark knows it's yours because he listened to the same sound yesterday up close when he asked you about the library.

the first forty five minutes of class fly by, mark manages to keep himself from falling asleep while his teacher goes on about something he'd already learned about years prior.

then, she stops, the shuffling of desks are heard in the room, and his teacher sighs as she places her hands against her desk. "as i said yesterday, your project is about important historical events, you can use these next few minutes to brainstorm with your partners".

she then sighs with her hands clasped together. "no funny business" she scolds, her tone reminiscent of a mother angry at her children.

a click of the tongue sounds as mutters begin getting louder, mark's chest tightens as he glances around the room, watching everyone else get up to discussing with their partners.

of course, he has to go to you.

he stands from his place and drags a chair over to you, eyes squeezing shut at the sound it emanates. "sorry".

you instantly squint, a scrunch of your nose adding to your expression. "did you just apologize for.. nothing?"

mark swallows, his lips pursuing. he doesn't have a response for that, apologies falling from his lips are programmed into his speech. the way you asked makes him feel as if something is wrong with his manner of speaking, he isn't sure why he thinks about it in that way though.

"i don't know i.." his words drift off into nothing, there isn't a response to that one, because mark has no idea why he says what he does. "i'm sorry".

you respond with a chuckle, and mark's eyes miraculously widen. he just did it again, and it felt completely normal. one click to your pen. your lips stretch into yet another neutral smile, the prospect amusing you. "alright, what should our topic be?"

mark pauses, scratching his nails against the wooden table. his eyes drifts over to your notebook, and you close it upon catching his gaze. his lips press into a thin line, a breath in his teeth. "maybe the industrial revolution..?"

it's simply the first thing he could say at the moment, he wasn't exactly thinking. you blink, using a hum as your reply this time. you map out the several features on mark's face, his big brown eyes shine with anticipation, and it gets difficult to hide your smile.

"unless you wanna do something else" mark is quick to add, his words a small whisper. "i want to hear your suggestions".

he observes the act of your expressions changing, your eyebrows pinching together in a questioning manner. you don't seem to mind, he gathers. "it's alright, i would've said the bubonic plague or something but that's been dried up countless times i assume".

mark breaks into a small smile, relaxing against the chair. "okay, the industrial revolution it is" he whispers, hands clasped together. "do you still want to go to the library today or..?"

"i can't make it today".

your voice lowers exponentially, eyes casting to the side. mark gazes, as if attempting to read your inner most thoughts. you don't exactly make them clear, that's puzzling, mark almost wants to ask what the deal is, but he assumes you'd probably cuss him out if he did.

he presents his warmest smile to you. "it's okay, i can find sources for today, we can begin searching together tomorrow".

you don't nod, simply stare back. mark blinks, avoiding your eyes as he glances around the room. "i don't really want to put that all on you, i can still gather sources i just can't stay after school.."

mark is the one who nods, tucking a strand of his hair behind his ear. "that's fine, you think you can stay tomorrow though?"

god mark feels like such an asshole asking that, he tries to keep his eyes everywhere but directly in front of him, because he's afraid of getting decked in the face.

but instead, you chuckle. "yeah tomorrow is fine, sorry for being so.. inconsistent".

mark then shakes his head, hoping the movements would reassure you in some way. "it's alright, thank you for telling me".

your lips stay pressed together, another small hum vibrating from you. you again run out of responses, so mark speaks up. "let's work well together, yeah?"

is that really the correct choice of words? think about it mark.

mark already thinks too much, if he thinks more, he might begin feeling tears stream down his cheeks. he doesn't want to seem.. jumpy, even if there are voices screaming at him with their pitches so high blood might start pouring out of his ears.

and finally, you nod, which gets a small smile out of mark.

MARK READS ON AND ON ABOUT THE INDUSTRIAL revolution until the words burn into his brain, until the sun goes down and his mom is casting him strange looks every time she walks past his open door. around the fifth time she did a lap, she paused as she watched mark flip through the many books scattered around his bed. "what is going on here?" she inquires, and mark glances up as he's midway through reading about british imperialism, a small smile on his lips. "this is for my project" he whispers, clear fatigue in his voice. she narrows her eyes, puzzled by the manner he's acting in.

"it's almost ten o'clock, mark".

ten isn't that late, he would usually muse, but there's a pointed look she sends him that leaves the words resting on the tip of his tongue. "okay, i'll go to sleep now.." he mutters, licking his lips.

she smiles softly, tapping her finger against his door. "sleep for real, mark, don't read all night".

"i don't read all night" he argues to the air. he knows that isn't true, he can't argue about it to his mom. he crosses his arms over his chest, imitating the stubborn front donghyuck always puts up.

she utters something akin to a 'sure' and gives one last look to mark before walking down the hallway. mark only casts one last glance in the direction of his door, then he picks up the books he littered across his bed to shove into his backpack.

he isn't exactly sure why he couldn't stop thinking about your neutral smile. mark has only interacted with you three times in two months, yet there's something there that keeps him grounded, his mind warns him of something, but you can't be terrible, you seem practically harmless.

mark isn't new to knowing people with somewhat shitty parents, but he feels as if there's something more there. mark really can't judge from a one off interaction he wasn't even involved in besides watching, how can he concoct something like this about you in his head when you barely talk to him as it is? he can't just make shit up before actually sitting down to get to know you.

he stares out his open window, the night breeze comes in with a rush reminiscent of ocean waves. he switches off his lights and stares up at the ceiling, hair splayed behind him as he waits for the exhaustion to take over.

he's bad news mark.

but what does mark know? this could just be his anxiety's biggest manifestations, he's making shit up. he's guessing based on the few interactions you two have had, and if he thinks further, it seems that you don't exactly enjoy his presence.

mark doesn't get much sleep that night.

that isn't as crazy as it should be, mom asks about it at breakfast the next morning, catching the dark circles under his eyes. he manages to utter an excuse about sounds outside or something, it was barely believed, she squinted at him with pure incredulity in her eyes, but he quickly scarfed down the remaining waffles on his plate and rushed to school, weighed down by his backpack containing thick books.

donghyuck made an awful lot of remarks about him accidentally killing someone with his backpack. he had the urge to purposefully swing it around to hit the younger with his backpack, but he kept such thoughts to himself, he could get revenge on donghyuck another time. maybe he'll hit him in the head with a metal pan again, who knows?

the lack of sleep exhibits itself in mark's barely functioning body as a whole. seven separate times during the day he almost dozed off during class, his teachers gave him the benefit of the doubt, him practically snoring on his desk was nothing new, he gets a pass because he's the kid with good grades.

by the time last period rolls around, mark forgets everything else that happened today. two hours of sleep usually don't do him this bad, but considering he'd been constantly getting over seven hours of sleep this week, two basically rendered him dead.

his hand slammed onto his desk a few too many times, he jolted up a few too many times. his eyes narrowed as he yawned again, doing his regular glance around the classroom. he counts each of the heads he catches, noticing some missing, but only a certain missing one is alerting.

you aren't here.

mark's lips turn downward, a weathering frown now overtaking his former exhaustion. mrs. lim took attendance thirty minutes ago, how did he miss you not responding to the call of your name? he narrows his eyes at your empty desk, feeling a pit form in his stomach.

where is he? his lips pursue as he looks forward, now unable to care about his fatigue when he was now consumed with confusion on where the hell you were.

did you just decide to go m.i.a for absolutely no reason? god what an asshole move. do you even know how difficult it is to do a project on your own?

mark doesn't let the anger fester for long, though, because it then becomes worry. maybe something happened, you told him you'd be able to stay today, did you just lie to him?

okay, so maybe his anger does fester a little bit, but he can't stay angry at really anyone for long (not even donghyuck, annoying guy 101). his fingers press uncomfortably onto the straps of his backpack as he makes his way over to the library, maybe you won't show up, but he still has to finish this project anyway.

he drops the books down with a resounding thud, immediately getting to jotting down notes after apologizing to the librarian. his head simply leaned downward, threatening to fall and crash against the table at any moment. he isn't sure how he remains awake, but he manages to keep himself up enough that he's able to write at least two pages of notes.

he's about to begin drooling, an embarrassing feat really, but he can't contain his weariness.

and just as he's about to pass out—

"are you good?"

mark jolts up straight away, a gasp of surprise leaving his lips as he takes in the words. when he whips his head back, he immediately frowns, it's you. he sucks a breath between his teeth, shoulders relaxing. "yeah yeah i'm just tired i.."

mark would've spit out some snarky interjection when his eyes drifted downward. then, in their usual fashion, they widened, and a grimace made it's way to his face.

a barrage red and purple decorate your knuckles, the skin between your fingers threatening to open. he barely holds back his wince, it looks painful, so painful. why the fuck are your knuckles split?

"are you alright?"

you deliver a snort. "is that the question you're always going to ask me?"

"oh my god! you're— your hands jesus what the hell even happened!?"

mark grabs your hands to get a closer look, your rough skin clashing against his in a burning manner. you promptly draw your hands away, as if in a protective stance, as if.. weirded out by the whole ordeal. "nothing, it's fine".

"it's fine?" mark parrots, sharing an incredulous look with you he normally wouldn't share with anyone. "your knuckles are one snap away from bleeding!"

your face twitches, and you bring a finger to your lips. "don't yell in a library, it isn't that serious".

"it isn't—" mark cuts his own speech off, closing his eyes to try and keep himself calm. "what happened?"

you mutter something unintelligible at first, fingers picking at the sides of your hands. "i just made someone mad.."

"you just made someone mad?"

you shrug your shoulders, startlingly mundane about the whole thing. mark stares, an intake of fear entering him. your face is flat, the only expression mark could make out was slight irritation, but not at him.. at least he hopes.

"you weren't in class today" he whispers, now quickly changing the subject as you drag the chair beside him back, settling onto it.

"i skipped" you speed through your response, grinding any of the pain you feel in your knuckles between your teeth. "looked like shit, mrs. lim would've had a heart attack if i walked into her room".

"you didn't think to go to the nurse or something?"

you narrow your eyes, tongue probing at the side of your cheek. "you ask so many questions, that has to be your thing".

mark sucks his teeth. "..sorry for worrying?"

you blink, a neutral smile spreading across your lips. "you're a weird guy".

there it is. there the word is. weird. you think mark is weird. is mark weird? if mark is weird, then what does that make you? is it weird that he has empathy for others? is it weird that he holds empathy for you?

"are you insulting me?"

your head shakes back and forth, fingers prodding at the corners of your book. "not quite, i've just never met someone like you".

"well usually someone having split knuckles is cause for concern".

your face again drops, and the awkward chuckle mark hoped would quell such worries instead died down in his throat. he watches the way you gaze upward then downward, mapping each of mark's features with your tentative eyes. "it's not that big of a deal" you mumble, twiddling your thumbs as you quickly avert your gaze.

you avoid his eyes in the same way a child does when they fear upsetting their parents, your lips curl down into the exact appearance of disappointment.

mark's mouth is completely dry, he doesn't really know how to deal with.. this. he levels at you with a blank stare, attempting to see through you, maybe get into your thoughts and finally figure out why you don't find your knuckles being split being the huge problem it is.

"okay.. um, can you show me the sources you found then?"

mark is trying his best to not make it awkward, how do you not even release a wince at the pain you must be experiencing? you simply engross yourself in that pen and paper once again.

it's a bit difficult to make conversation when all he currently sees are the bruises decorating your hands. he grimaces as if you're some exhibit he isn't fond of, and from the flickers of your eyes he catches in his peripheral vision, you clearly take notice.

"you gonna stop looking at me like that?"

"sorry!" mark is quick to sputter, his blinks as rapid as his response. "i'm sorry it just.. doesn't that hurt?"

a breath falls from your lips, the beginnings of a laugh making it's way up into the air. "it's nothing i haven't felt before".

mark wants to ask again, but he keeps in such urges. again, he's still afraid you'll punch him in the face if he opens his mouth again. mark assumes he just doesn't get it, maybe how you feel is vastly different to how he feels. "can i at least walk you to the nurses office?"

another question, mark feels his stomach curl into something terrible, but instead of the blow up reaction he expects, you simply pause, blinking.

you press your teeth against each other, thinking it over with your eyes trailing the shelves of the library. one click to your pen, a small sigh falling from your lips. "fine.. i guess".

you guess, well that's a start. mark can make well with that.

you gather books as best as you can quickly, shoulders tensing. mark urges to grab your hand, maybe soothe it over with his thumb, but he suppresses such urges in fear of weirding you out (because you already deemed him a 'weirdo').

"you know.. if you ever need to tell someone something, i'm here".

it's a flimsy suggestion, a small uttering mark could only muster with the worry in his heart. you shot him a glance, the abrupt movement of your head almost startling mark backward. you stare, the expression on your face indecipherable, mark wishes he could reach into your mind, pull out your innermost thoughts and figure out exactly why you think the way you do.

your eyes stay narrowed for a moment, simply staring at mark, frozen in front of the nurse's office. you click your tongue, scratching at the start of your sweater. "sure".

sure, sure. it's not a no, that's good. it's not a yes, which isn't exactly assuring. it's a sure. sure. there's a start, it's a beginning.

you don't exactly sound sure, your eyes cast around your surroundings, and your lips sink into your bottom teeth. the anxiety permeating from you is reminiscent of mark's own.

well maybe you two aren't that different.

i'm here if you want to talk, mark repeats in his own head, and he begins biting the skin off his lips.

sure is your response.

it's a good enough response for a start.

THE TITLE OF 'FRIENDS' ISN'T YET ESTABLISHED between you two. you're still an enigma, a mystery, mark is still just the tiniest bit afraid you'll attempt to punch him in the face if he says something you don't agree with. you're an easy person to work with, in comparison to some of mark's other project partners. you two equally split up the workload, you don't mind taking up most of the work, you tell mark it's okay, even with bandages arranged around your bruised knuckles, you could jot down notes about the fucking industrial revolution all day. mark makes out that you don't necessarily enjoy talking, you communicate with your feeble expressions.

again, you two aren't established friends, and considering you only have one ninety minute class together in one whole school day, it would be a turbulent effort to even attempt a friendship.

you can be summed up as simply 'project buddies', there isn't anything more to it, but that's because mark has some fear instilled in him directed towards you. you don't glare, but it still appears that you do.

you continuously scribble in your notebook, biting your fingernails, the same anxious impulses mark finds himself unconsciously doing. day in and day out mark clocks a few more similarities between you two, that's interesting.

you become less of an apparition and more of an actual person, october begins coming to a close, temperatures falling at the rapid rate of the leaves. in the next coming weeks, he'll probably begin wearing jackets.

"i think maybe we should start going to each other's places after school?"

you pause in your dragging when mark brings that up, one click to your pen. you lick your teeth, whole body tensing. "we can't go to my place" you clear your throat. "my parents.."

you stop midway through your own sentence, it's as if you were restrained, unable to utter the rest of it in.. fear? you avoid mark's gaze, cheeks pink with embarrassment.

mark blinks, he sort of expected that answer. another click to your pen, you continue dragging it against your notebook page. mark almost leans over to check what you're doing, but he keeps himself still. you don't have to say more, he doesn't need for you to say more. "oh, it's okay! we can just go to my place".

you remain still. "your parents won't mind?"

mark quickly shakes his head. "they never mind, honestly they keep complaining about how i don't bring people over".

for the first time since mark's met you, a small laugh leaves your lips. "okay.. that's fine".

fine. not good, just fine. maybe it takes a while for you to warm up, mark doesn't mind, he can wait.

you tug at a strand of your hair using your finger, licking your teeth. "is friday good for you?" mark inquires, watching as you again begin vigorously clicking your pen.

you again pause before answering, an indecipherable feeling entering you. mark tries to study you, but he gets nothing, he really is clueless to how you are. "friday is fine" you then say, much too rapidly for it to be authentic. you seem shaky, erratic, it all seems so scary.

mark nods, a final click to your pen. "okay.. after school maybe? we could walk together".

yet another flimsy suggestion, mark only utters such a thing because he doesn't exactly want to pick specific times. it's easier this way, directly after school, you have your last class together, just heading home after it all finished would be fine. it's simple.

you stare at him as if he just grew two heads, your eyes dilated in a freakish fashion. mark finds it staggering, you always stare at him as if he's said something absurd when he offers even the tiniest bit of kindness to you. your eyebrows furrow, simply a look of pure confusion painted on your face.

but even with the torture you seem to be facing in your own mind, you present a neutral smile. "yeah, that's okay".

okay. not good, just okay.

mark thinks he can deal with okay.

the coming friday enters like a freight train, it's a tumultuous crash that is so rapid the world shakes. mark scratches behind his ear, eyes droopy as he simply awaits for the ending of class.

he zones out on the sound of a pen dragging against a notebook page, he doesn't need to crane his head back to know that you're scribbling something into your notebook. he wonders if you're interested in drawing, maybe you enjoy the aspect of art, that seems interesting.

mark wants to ask, but there's always a voice in his head that chastises him for being so curious, the same way his mother used to when he'd ask outlandish questions as a child.

he has to use all of the fight in him to not look back at you, he'd probably get another weird utter from you if he decided to simply turn back and stare, mark isn't stupid, he knows how people are, he knows it's weird to just sit and stare at someone.

one click to your pen.

class dismisses as soon as it begins, and mark almost falls to the floor when he stands up, his exhaustion practically weighing him down. he acts in a strange manner, one that draws a small snicker from you as you observe his behavior.

"you alright there?" mark only sighs, slinging his bag over his shoulder.

"i'm fine just.. tired" mark explains, chuckling emptily. you simply stare again, tightening your hold against your backpack. you click your tongue, shoulders still tense as ever. "do you want to come over now or..?"

you nod. "now is fine".

mark makes sure to not show his elation too clearly, just presenting his regular smile as it is to you. he almost grabs your hand, he wants to feel the intertwining of your fingers, but again, you'd probably punch him in the face.

the walk isn't long, mark walks to school every single day, having not skipped a beat ever since freshman year began. you two stroll towards mark's place in silence, the air growing awkward as the autumn air breezes through your hair.

mark clears his throat, taking in a breath. "is your hand getting better?"

it's a trifling inquiry mark only makes out because of the need for conversation, it'd be so much worse if you two were just quiet. mark usually doesn't have a problem with talking to people, but with you, it's just the slightest bit difficult.

you again offer a curt shrug as a response. "it's okay".

okay. wow, you never really give a sure answer. mark wonders if you even know the answer yourself.

"okay isn't really a reassuring answer".

"doesn't matter".

it does to me.

the words hang heavy on mark's lips, but they then die down in his throat, would it be strange to say that to someone you barely even know? someone who probably doesn't consider you a friend in their own indecipherable mind? mark curses himself for harboring such strong feelings towards you, someone whose basically a stranger.

"again, nothing i haven't felt before" you mutter, words hushed in their usual manner. you leave no more room for explanations, going silent as you continue your walk beside him.

mark, though curious, also remains silent, slowly speeding up as he makes out the sight of his house.

you keep your head down when mark opens the door, peaking his head from behind it. "mom! i'm home!"

mark misses the small flicker of jealousy in your eyes, too busy getting attacked by his mother's frenzied affection. you could only stare at the spectacle, keeping your silence.

"oh, and whose this?"

mark blinks, his big eyes widening extraordinarily. "this is y/n, my classmate, were doing a project together".

you again keep silent for a while, clearing your throat as she offers you a smile. "it's nice to meet you mrs. lee".

"oh you're adorable, look at those cheeks!"

you had half a mind to lean back when she pinched your cheek, but you stayed still, even with the tense of your stance. mark snickers behind his hand, finding the sight amusing.

he lets a breath fall from his lips. "were gonna go study in my room, if that's okay.."

"that's fine! don't be afraid to tell me if you need anything!"

she claps her hands happily and ruffles mark's hair, yet you continue staring incredulously, as if the actions were alien. you only nodded, silence again overtaking you as you follow behind mark to his room, smiling at his mother as you walk your way there.

"your mom is nice" you whisper, mark only able to hear it because of the lack of space between you two. you still don't smile, a neutral expression remaining on your face.

mark again chuckles lightly, motioning his head forward as he holds his door open for you. "yeah, everyone says that, you okay though?"

you glance back at him, puzzled. "yeah.. i'm fine".

fine, that has to be a specific buzzword of sorts. mark again blinks, several emotions flaring in his irises. "well i noticed you kinda froze when my mom touched you".

you merely offer a shrug, settling onto the floor and pulling out the several books you'd been reading prior. "i'm just not used to that kind of affection".

mark raises an eyebrow, dropping his backpack onto the ground with a resounding thud, the many books practically shaking the floor. that was an answer didn't really expect. maybe he just doesn't get it, your mom can't be that bad, it's your mom! how could a mother not harbor affection towards her child.

you snap your head up, a look in your eye, as if you were daring him to make a brash comment about your family life. mark gulps in the quietest way possible, smile straining against his lips. "did you get any more notes on the steam engine's origins?"

you reply with a small smile, seemingly pleased he changed the topic.

hours go by with you two simply studying and talking about your topic, the familiar drag of your pen filling the air of mark's room. you didn't bring up anything off topic, it's honestly impressive how long you stayed without getting distracted, but mark assumes it's because you just don't enjoy talking.

you've pretty much given up on the subject at hand, resorting to drawing whatever in your notebook. dark circles begin visibly appearing under your eyes, but you still don't make a comment, simply preoccupying yourself with your mini art pieces.

mark stares, eyes drifting off to his open window, the sun slowly disappearing behind the horizon. he admires the reddish-orange hue of the sky, his lips turning up at the picture.

"what time is it?"

mark's eyes flicker in a sudden shift, and he again glances at you, then at the clock against the wall. "it's almost eight pm".

you sink your teeth into your bottom lip, gathering the books you rested on the floor to again put back into your backpack. one click to your pen, you also let it fall into your pencil case. "i should probably get going now.. thank you for letting me come over".

mark shakes his hand, offering a dismissive wave. "it's nothing, if you want to start doing this more often.. you know my parent's won't mind".

you pause, letting your silence fester as you put on your backpack. you bite your inner cheek, mark can practically hear you thinking. "..maybe" you mutter, staring down at the floor as you begin making your way down the hall, towards the front door.

mark pretty much springs to his feet, he doesn't want to be an impolite guest, his mom always told him that it's nice to walk people out. "or we could just go back to studying in the library".

he really just wants you to be comfortable.

you pause, steps slowing down as you make it to the middle of the living room. your fingers tap against the straps of your backpack, licking your teeth. "i'll think about it, then when i decide i'll tell you".

mark finds himself smiling at that. it's again, a start. "okay, i can wait".

you share yet another neutral smile, but it seems your lips itch to turn up even more, you seem to want to share a genuine smile with mark, but you stop yourself for some reason. "you're so patient".

"i learned from the best".

you again bite your inner cheek, and mark's eyebrow raises, those words appear to displease you.

"oh are you leaving already y/n?"

your displeasure transforms into immediate bliss when mark's mother again enters, blinking. "yeah, it's getting late now".

"do you not want to stay for dinner?"

you again stop in your place, seemingly freezing. mark does the same, parroting your expression with his shoulders tensing. he glances over at you, watching as the inner battle your having in your head plays on your forehead in big bold letters. "um.. i—"

"mark!" his mother chastises, smacking his arm in a manner that draws a small wince. "what are you standing there for? invite your friend over for dinner!"

mark almost wants to utter he's not my friend, but that's just so mean to say out loud. he isn't exactly sure if that's what you would want or not, so his mouth again hangs open like he's some sort of idiot who doesn't know how to speak.

but you break the silence by chuckling silently. "it's okay mrs. lee i wouldn't want to overstay my welcome".

she sucks her teeth, waving a dismissive hand in the same manner mark does. "don't say that! you're welcome here now! have you eaten yet?"

you can only stare incredulously, biting the skin off your lips. "no not really.."

she gasps in horror, her big brown eyes holding a familiar look of worry. "you must be starving then! just stay for a few minutes, yeah?"

you so badly want to decline, mark sees it in the shift you perform, but it's also impossible to decline, you share one glance with mark, then you sigh. "okay.. thank you ma'am".

"don't thank me, i'm simply doing the bare minimum".

you wonder where you've heard that one before.

mark finally snaps out of his daze, a warm smile spreading across his features. "are you really staying?" he inquires when his mom walks back to the kitchen, the volume of his voice merely a small whisper.

"just for a few minutes" you whisper in reply, the straps of your backpack burning into your palm with how hard you're pressing onto it.

mark can barely even hide the bigger smile that threatens to paint his face. that's nice, it's not along the lines of a sure or an okay, it's something more.

maybe it's a step in the right direction.

WHEN MONDAY AGAIN ROLLS AROUND, MARK has way too much on his mind. the crisp october air has just gotten cooler, his heavier sweaters now in need. a few days from now it might begin smelling much more brisk, trees will wither at an even quicker rate, the leaves crunching under his shoes will fly away in the breeze without bidding so much as a goodbye. by the time november comes to a close, mark will have worn out this red sweater he's so attached to. for now though, he's going to wear it every single day, it matches the appearance of the autumn season, he wants to stay on theme (and he also just has a super huge attachment to the sweater).

even after you stayed over for a few extra minutes to have dinner at his house, courtesy of his mother's own magnanimity, you two still don't establish any kind of friendship. he heard you utter a few words about how he clearly inherited that from her, but he feigned ignorance as he focused on eating dinner.

your presentation is next week, the last week was simply full of research questions and many pieces of cardboard scattered across the floor. the librarian finds the sight of you two so mundane that she greets you with a small nod each time you enter.

there's much more studying than there actually is talking about anything else, an unseen work ethic mark usually wouldn't find weird if it wasn't for the morbid curiosity he has for everything.. well— you.

mark stares as you continue jotting, tape on your right hand side you stare at the cardboard folder you two decided to use for your presentation. he's been distracted for a while now, but you're still as focused as ever, it's pretty admirable how dedicated you are to this project.

"do you maybe wanna be friends?"

the tiniest sound of ink dropping onto a paper stops, one click to your pen. you always seem to do that, pause midway through your actions before fully taking his words into account. you always stare at him as if he says something absurd, like he's a crazy person. mark finds each of your actions pretty strange.

"what?"

he claps his hands, nails scratching the back of his own palms. "i don't know.. you've had dinner with my parents already, isn't it weird that we aren't friends?"

you itch to say something, and mark wishes superpowers would be granted to him in this very moment. he can't tell what you're thinking and the irritation begins to seep in as quick as he craves for it to disappear. "unless you don't want to be friends.. i don't mind".

what a terrible liar. he does mind. he fucking minds so much it's going to begin physically paining him soon enough.

you let go of the tense you seem to hold onto, shoulders relaxing as you sink into your chair. "fine, let's be friends then".

you say the words in a manner that indicates you're just the slightest bit weirded out, almost everything about mark seems to weird you out, and maybe it makes mark feel a little insecure.

"what's your favorite season?"

"excuse me?" you narrow your eyes, and mark thinks any courage he could've held in that moment dies down in his throat.

mark blinks, you have no reason to be so terrifying. it must be some skill of yours. "well usually when you make friends with people you get to know them.. i don't really know much about you, it's a start".

a start, there it is again, a start. your tongue clicks against the roof of your mouth, you pull your sleeves over your arms. "what? like twenty questions?"

mark's slow nod is almost barely recognizable. "yeah basically".

you stare for a moment, your silence overtaking you once again. maybe you're just thinking of an answer, maybe you don't think of these things in the way mark does, cogs turn in his brain, and he begins;

"i like summer.. mostly because my birthday is in summer but i've never really been a fan of the cold, it's excruciating to sleep in the summer but i greatly prefer it anyway, it's easier to sleep in heat than trudge to school in thick snow".

when mark releases a final breath, he again glances at you. oh! he just rambled, he just rambled through a response that he basically programmed into his head in preparation for this kind of question.

you again, look at him like he's crazy, but there's a hint of amusement in your expression, your lips threatening to turn up into a grin. "i don't really have a favorite".

mark's face scrunches, that's a boring answer. "okay but if you had to choose, which one would you pick?"

your shoulders again drop, rising into a shrug that isn't exactly of confusion, but something much more complicated. "autumn, it's like the in between season, summer makes my skin feel too clammy and winter is just.. painful".

"painful?"

"i don't really enjoy snow" you begin clicking your pen consistently once more. mark wonders if that's one of your anxious habits, he has some of those as well, he wonders a lot about you. "i guess it can be pretty but it's so cold i just can't help but dislike it".

"valid point".

you hum in response, and mark again smiles. it's pretty nice talking to you about just stupid things like this, hopefully you can share more moments in such a fashion. "do you like history?"

you snort. "not as much as you clearly do".

mark shakes his head for some reason. "i don't really enjoy history i just put a crazy amount of effort into it like i do my other subject.."

"well you have to stay on the principal's honor roll".

mark clears his throat, if he couldn't pinpoint your tone of voice, he would've thought you were insulting him with a show of sarcasm, but it's quite the opposite, there's a show of admiration in that tone of yours, respect. it's flattering, and if mark wasn't still afraid of you punching him in the face, he would've allowed for tease to slip from his lips.

"you're very smart too, just in your own way".

"well i'm much more of a science person" you respond, and mark's eyes widen in a form of daze. he had no idea what he was expecting, but it definitely wasn't that.

"science?"

"you seem surprised" you utter, just the faintest hint of surprise on your features as you mirror the look mark gave you seconds prior (save for your eyes widening).

"i don't know, i would've never guessed science".

"i've long finished that class i just.. i find the aspect of science interesting" you pause your consistent clicking of your pen, again beginning to draw out something in your notebook.

mark almost wants to inquire about what you draw on the pages, but he keeps that in the recesses of his mind. "like biology and stuff?"

"physics, chemistry, astronomy, all the bullshit you hate learning about in school" though you focus on the drawing you seem pretty into, you also remember to give as much attention to mark. "it's interesting to research about when there isn't an uptight guy up your ass".

mark snickers at the reply, completely knowing of the teacher you're referring to with that sentence. "mr. cho isn't that bad".

"oh trust me, he is".

you giggle at your own response, the first show of a genuine smile mark sees on your face ever since the first time he met you. "sorry for calling you weird the last time".

shock flickers in mark's galaxy like irises. he wasn't exactly expecting an apology from you, he already got over it (as much as he could with how terrified of you he was). "it's okay, i guess i was being kinda pushy".

"no i was just being difficult, don't blame yourself".

mark wants to but in, yet his mouth clamps shut. he itches to tell you no, to tell you that he just doesn't get you yet, but it's not your fault.

"well were friends now, so it doesn't matter".

when your eyes cast towards him, an unusual shiver runs down his spine, but a smile stays stuck to his face.

after legions of fear, friendship is finally established.

but it's still a little strange. though mark finally knows a few new interesting factoids concerning you (your favorite season is autumn, you have an interest in science, and you aren't as scary as you may seem), you're still a pretty clear mystery.

the rest of the week is spent finalizing your project, there's again less off topic talking again, and mark holds on to that small conversation you originally had in the library for the next few days, looking forward to the next time he can have such a talk with you.

you seem to thrive in silence, so mark doesn't try to force more conversation between you two, when you want to talk to him, you'll talk to him.

but mark still has that itching curiosity which won't go away.

"do you ever worry about someone for no reason?"

mark inquires it to donghyuck on the following friday, the barely warm breeze rushing past them, slightly lifting hairs from their heads. donghyuck blinks, stretching his legs forward onto the rest of the aluminum bleachers. "what do you mean by that?"

mark pauses, he should've expected donghyuck to answer his question with a question. it was all abrupt, flimsy, it wasn't all thought out like most of his inquiries. "i don't know.. sometimes i don't talk much to someone and i still feel like something is going on".

donghyuck raises an eyebrow. "ohh, you're talking about y/n".

mark doesn't even know why he's shocked, out of words, he nods at his response.

donghyuck lets out a breath. "y/n's a pretty stalling guy, he usually doesn't get to the point quickly, you might just be worried because he won't confide in you".

"i mean.. it still feels like there's more there, i can understand if he doesn't want to talk to me but i'm also afraid something more might be going on, you know?"

donghyuck sucks his teeth, offering mark an elbow nudge that seems along the lines of an affectionate gesture. "that might just be because of your naturally aiding impulses, i'm sure if something is going on, y/n just isn't telling you because he doesn't want you to freak".

mark's face scrunches. "i'm not going to freak".

"well then you clearly don't know yourself" donghyuck pats mark on his shoulder, grabbing his backpack and shrugging it over his shoulder. just as mark is about to give yet another brash response, donghyuck quips; "wanna race back to my place?"

before mark can respond, donghyuck leaps off the bleachers and begins sprinting, much to his own dismay. "hey! that's cheating!" he shouts, but donghyuck makes no move of slowing down.

mark curses at his own best friend, trying his best to keep up the pace. "donghyuck!"

all he receives in return is a gleeful giggle.

MARK FIRST MEETS YOUR PARENTS THE FOLLOWING WEEK, an event that was entirely accidental. you guys ace the project, the resounding look of pride from your teacher alerts you of that. the a+ was guaranteed you say, from the moment mrs. lim decided to place you two in a project together she knew it was. still, even with the usually high expectations, mark can barely contain himself, almost hugging you in the aftermath of the whole thing. he isn't sure how he managed to keep it all to himself, but he did, and it's good that he did, he was afraid of making it all more awkward. he was pleased to see a smile blossom on your face, your smile is pretty, it's fitting.

the moment class ends, he makes his way over to you. "we did a good job" he whispers, the volume of his voice barely able to be considered a whisper. he held his hand up, wincing in his own mind as he watches you stare.

but, fortunately for mark, you give him a high five, your hands meeting in a silent slap. for the sheer moment your palms meet, he basks in the feeling of your rough callouses against his soft ones. "you did a good job".

"we did a good job" mark specifies, and you stand up from your place, simply responding with a small nod.

you decide to not argue with him, slinging your backpack over your shoulder. there's a small silence that settles into the air, but then mark again perks up. "do you want to walk home together?"

shock colors your features, an instant look of fear flickering in your eyes. "i— i mean.."

you lick your lips, thousands of thoughts running rampant through your mind. "sure" you reply, feeling mark's heavy gaze directed towards you.

again, it's just a sure, nothing exactly reassuring.

mark tightens his hold on his backpack, a small look in his eye that you actively avoid. he decides to not comment on it, instead letting the silence fester as you two bid farewell to your fellow classmates and begin walking home.

it seems you walk home to school as well, you haven't muttered anything about a bus, or about your parents taking you to and from school. he usually sees you walk in the opposite direction of the bus stop, so he simply assumes you walk home like he does.

he hears you mumble something under your breath, and he narrows his eyes, curiosity peaked by the unintelligible words. he glances at you, eyes full of anxiety. "is everything okay?"

your head snaps up so quickly mark almost squeaks at the sharp movement. your eyes are widened comically, but mark can't even find an awkward chuckle ready to leave his lips, you look terrified, you look.. scared.

"m' fine".

"you sure?"

you don't have to lie to me.

mark decides to keep that one to himself.

"yeah i'm fine" you say, avoiding eye contact and stomping your shoes.

you stop in front of an unfamiliar house, only half the walk towards mark's own place. oh, so you don't live that far away from school. you live closer than mark even does, he guesses he again learned something new about you.

"hey you don't even live that far away" mark says, hoping his smile will somehow brighten your mood. he watches a small flicker of bliss form on your face, and he manages to contain his own elation. "you didn't tell me you lived close by".

you again mutter something unintelligible under your breath, but your tone of voice indicates that you're just the slightest bit afraid once again.

mark is about to ask again when the door swings open, and an unfamiliar woman with a mean look in her eye. she squints at the sight of you, irritation crossing her expression. "i thought you were staying at school late".

the look of fear in your eyes becomes more of embarrassment, but the terror remains. "i um— i messed it up, my projects over".

mark studies her face for a moment, he assumes that's your mother, but he doesn't capture a single resemblance between you two. "crock of shit" she mumbles, her eyes shift erratically, and she clicks her tongue in a manner reminiscent of how you do it.

mark stops as he feels an awkwardness shift in the air, and she finally has half a mind to acknowledge his presence. "do i know you?"

her head tilts slightly, and mark almost jumps back in complete terror. "no i.. mark lee, i'm y/n's friend".

she raises an eyebrow, a chuckle of disbelief being her immediate response. "you have friends?"

you lick your teeth, the irritation in your expression betraying the words on your lips: "i didn't mean to lie" you continue to avoid her eyes, as if afraid she might turn you into stone if you even glance at her face. "i'm sorry".

she dismisses your apology rather quickly. "whatever i don't care.." she almost rolls her eyes, but she seems to stop it. "it's nice to meet you.." she snaps her fingers as her words trail off, and mark realizes she forgot his name already. "mark".

your cheeks tint pink with embarrassment, and you look down at the floor, holding in your breaths. "can i have a few minutes?" you mumble, tutting silently.

she shrugs. "be quick, we have to talk" irritation laces her tone, and she places a performative smile on her face as she glances at mark, the door closing behind her.

mark is almost completely overtaken by his silence, but then you sigh, shoulders relaxing. "was that your mom?"

you mimic her prior shrug, tongue prodding at your cheek. "more or less.." you don't exactly react to those words, simply have an indifferent expression on.

"you don't look like her at all".

the moment the words escape mark, he slaps a hand over his mouth, eyes widening. that has to be offensive in some way, that's absolutely ridiculous to say, if his mom were here she'd smack him on the back of the head for the way he just acted. instead, you reply with a silent chuckle, a small smile painting your face.

"foster parents".

mark blinks. "what?"

"they're my foster parents, not my actual ones" you explain, and mark's heart drops to his feet.

oh. that's the entire expanse of your situation. mark didn't exactly think that would be the case, he doesn't know what he expected, but it definitely wasn't this.

"oh" he voices out loud, gritting his own teeth. "i— i'm sorry i didn't know".

he almost feels guilty in a sense.

for what, though?

"it's alright" you shake your head, shrugging your backpack over your shoulder, your expression of indifference remains. "see you on monday".

mark has no idea how he collects his words. "yeah, see you.."

but mark can't walk home without the feeling of nausea bubbling up in his stomach.

CONTRARY TO YOUR VERY WORDS, YOU DO NOT show up on monday. mark immediately jumps to the worst possible outcome. he isn't exactly sure why he jumped to thinking the worst, he's simply afraid something happened. your.. mothers sharp glare remains permanently framed in his memory, she was absolutely terrifying. when monday flies by with no sight of you, mark almost wants to walk to your place himself, but he keeps himself settled in his own thoughts, he wouldn't want to freak you out. his worries extended towards the day after, the greeting november air only adding to his worries.

now the oncoming cooler air is completely welcomed on mark's part. he enjoys the cold weather more than he has the gall to admit, and his dark red sweater has already been worn out even after only a week of consistently wearing it.

mark entered class on tuesday with a whole wave of nausea overtaking anything else he could've been feeling. when he took his seat, he practically waited to be bestowed with bad news.

he licks his lips as the teacher begins taking attendance, the 'here' he mutters is full of distraught he couldn't tell he was holding.

mrs. lim narrowed her eyes at her clipboard, the click of her tongue bouncing off the walls. "has anyone seen y/n?"

the question is asked out of sheer curiosity, just the slightest hint of worry present in her tone. it's a thing to be absent once, but you're usually only absent once, you're a pretty consistent student in terms of attendance.

her eyes flicker up, and the rest of the class begin their resounding murmurs. mark merely glances around, licking his teeth, additionally sucking his teeth to sell his irritation.

she scrunches her nose, about to ask again when, as if on cue, you walk in through the door. the indifference painted on your face is similar to the one he memorized back on that friday. you blink, avoiding her eyes in the manner of an ashamed child. "sorry i'm late" you mutter, frantically extending your gaze around the whole room.

mrs. lim stares, attempting to read your inner most thoughts. "it's okay just.. you'll get a tardy pass later sit down".

you offer your best nod, lips remained pressed shut as you shuffle towards your seat, avoiding mark's eyes specifically. his gaze trails onto yours, but because he can't see your eyes, he can't read how you feel.

you hang your head low as you take your seat, the familiar dragging of your pen against your notebook page not filling the room. mark feels as if the room is suffocating him whole, your very presence itself strangely scaring him.

"why didn't you show up yesterday?" mark inquires, he really wants make it sound like it's all okay, but his words trail off into an accusing whine.

you pause, shrugging. there's so much exhaustion behind your eyes, as if you've missed out on weeks upon weeks of sleep. "something came up".

you attempt your best shot at walking away from mark, back faced towards him as you walk in the direction of the bathroom.

mark scrunches his face, speeding up his own pace and brushing his shoulder against yours. he can no longer contain his curiosity, you look absolutely terrified of.. something. "what came up?"

"nothing".

"don't lie to me".

mark's expression of worry is now at full affect, his big brown eyes holding anxiety. you manage your best scoff, the grasp on your backpack tightening. your face twitches, the flicker in your eyes betraying the disdain you attempt to face make with.

still, you try to brush him off, shaking your head. "i'm not lying, and besides, it's none of your business".

mark kisses his teeth, a loud sigh now leaving his lips. he clears his throat, wiping his sweaty palms on his pants.

you stare, crumbling under his undeniably soft gaze. "i'm sorry" you mumble, immediately looking away from him, eyes shifting uncontrollably. "i just don't want to talk about it" you poke the side of your cheek with your tongue, clasping your hands behind your back.

mark stares down at his feet, biting down into his bottom lip. he scratches at his own fingers, anxious impulses all high and mighty. "it's alright, i— um.. do you wanna go get ice cream?"

you blink, sucking your teeth. you scratch the back of your neck, and mark has no idea why he asks that question, he just knows ice cream usually makes him feel better, maybe it's the same for you.

"ice cream? in november?"

"ice cream always helps people feel better".

you offer a small chuckle at that, head turned down as you nod.

mark smiles, he can't believe that worked. your walk to the local ice cream parlor is silent, clear fatigue still present under your eyes. you lightly shiver at the cold breeze that rushes past you, a faint mutter from mark questioning if you two should even be going to get ice cream in the first place.

"you're the one who suggested we get ice cream" you breath out, making no indication that you were against the idea of getting ice cream after school in the beginnings of winter. "i don't mind".

"but i just want to make sure".

the words seemingly appall you, and mark realizes that most of his words seem to have that effect on you. you again fester in your silence, tongue licking at your lips as you catch sight of the nearby ice cream parlor. "it doesn't really matter.."

why doesn't it matter? why is it so strange that i care about you y/n?

the words don't escape mark, they simply fizzle out into the air as the screeching of the open door instead meets his ears. mark is quick to smile as you two walk into the ice cream parlor, his humming immediately filling the air.

"i kind of see ice cream as a comfort thing because it reminds me of summer.." mark mutters, licking his spoon stained with the cookie dough flavoring.

you don't eat right away, simply stab your spoon into your pile of vanilla. "how can something so cold be so comforting?"

just look at you.

you suck your teeth, as if sensing his thoughts, the ice cream brightens your mood in just the slightest, he can see it in the way your eyes flare up. at least he momentarily got it, at least there's at least a sliver of happiness there.

"everything cold is comforting in summer".

"it's going to begin snowing soon" you smack your lips at the taste of vanilla on your tongue, it's just.. vanilla. "might get a brain freeze".

"worth it for the sugar".

now that, that draws a small snicker from you, your lips finally turning up in a display of ecstasy. maybe it isn't you finding that funny, but it's you finding mark's delivery to be blissful. your head tips down as you attempt to stifle your laughter, but you can't exactly hold yourself together.

mark stares at the prospect, his lips turning up unconsciously as his gaze is stick onto you, and how you look.. pleased.

mark can't even contain it. he loves seeing you be happy.

which then results in his mind retracting, he thinks back to the sight of your mother's angry face, and his lips turn downward.

maybe you were gone because something happened at home, mark can really do nothing but assume.

"sacrificing your well being for sugar? that's so.. strange".

"sugar is a good coping tool" mark breaths, throwing out the ice cream that he finished rather quickly.

you simply hum in reply, clearly not believing those words, but letting mark have the win anyway.

"hey y/n?"

you blink, your gaze slow as you stare down mark. mark clears his throat, swallowing his own fear. "i want you to talk to me.. okay? i don't mean to come off as pushy or annoying or nosey i just want to make sure you're alright, i'm not going to bite or anything".

you opt to awkwardly chuckle at that last bit, again shrugging your backpack over your shoulder. "i know.."

mark's face scrunches, he still doesn't really have you, you're still pretty withdrawn. "you don't have to tell me about everything just.. you know i'm here, if you ever need someone to talk to—"

"you'll be my first choice, don't worry" you finish the next half of your sentence with your own words, words that can't be feigned honesty, as you avoid mark's eyes in the process.

the words strike something.. different in mark. is it maybe bliss? some undiscovered form of happiness? he doesn't exactly know the name, even if it feels as if it's on the tip of his tongue, but he's pleased for now. there's trust that's been established between you two, you trust mark.

"okay, okay" mark heaves a breath, his smile sticking to his face.

you seem to like his smile, because your pupils dilate at the sight of it.

maybe it isn't exactly the ice cream that helped you feel better, but mark can't figure out that it might be him that's your cure.

FRIENDSHIP ALSO MEANS HAVING TO SPEND time with each other, something that seems easy enough. "spending time" simply equates to mark talking and you listening. again, you don't exactly enjoy talking, so you leave all of it to him. mark talks to death about himself, his life, his dad, his mom, stuff you probably don't find interesting, but keep circulating through your mind. mark can hear the disdain you must be feeling, because all he does is talk about his stuff. he doesn't think he would enjoy that if it was someone else, but you really don't seem to mind, as long as you don't need to do the talking.

"do i talk about myself too much?" mark abruptly inquires, head whipping towards you in an instant. your gaze is fixed on the ground, and you opt to sucking your teeth as a silent response. "it's alright, you can be honest".

you snicker at that. "you're a very.. thoughtful person".

mark narrows his eyes. what is that supposed to mean?

"you think a lot, there's simply so much on your mind" you clarify, tongue dragging across your teeth. "i don't mind if you talk, it's how i learn".

"learn about..?"

"you, what you like, how you are, talk all you want it's okay".

mark straightens himself, hands dropping into his lap. "i want you to talk".

you raise an eyebrow. "what?"

"talk about yourself, i know enough about me, why don't you tell me about you?"

"i'm not that interesting" your quick to say, fingers beginning to pick at your own individual nails. when mark sends you a look, you follow up on your words; "really i'm not, don't look at me like that".

mark takes in a deep sigh, carting a hand through his light brown hair. "it doesn't matter".

you bite into your cheek. mark parroted your own words to signal at least.. something, reaching out to you might be a challenge, but mark isn't going to stop trying.

you contemplate, eyes heavy lidded. "i mean— why are you at the police station so much?"

the police station. that's where you two first met, you raise your shoulders into a performed shrug. your dark sweater paralleling the color of your eyes, your teeth sinking into your bottom lip. "my parents are assholes".

the words are said surely, there isn't indifference there, there is no dissatisfaction behind your eyes, you know what you're saying, you don't even mind what you're saying.

mark could never say such a thing, let alone say them about his parents.

"oh".

mark clears his throat. "you're a foster kid? how does that work?"

mark knows how it works, he just needs to see how the terms spill from your lips. "they just drop me into another home when my other foster parents get sick of me, adoption is useless so i just stay with strangers who get paid monthly that don't care".

mark isn't sure what he expected, but it wasn't that. his mouth remains dry, what is a regular response to exposition like that? he scratches at the juncture of his neck and shoulder, guilt again in the air.

"sorry, i really know how to ruin the mood".

"no no! it's okay, i'm the one who asked".

"still, didn't need to make it all.. depressing".

"i mean— it is pretty depressing" mark scratches at his own knees, smile awkward. "but sometimes that's just how life decides to treat us".

us is a bit of a shallow way to put it, mark doesn't understand your circumstances, he's never faced any of what you face. "i'm sorry, i wish i could do something".

"you need to stop apologizing".

"but—"

"stop" you suck a breath between your teeth, hands placed symmetrically at your sides.

"alright, sorr.." he pauses when you raise an eyebrow, the beginning of his second apology forcing itself back down his throat. "okay".

you just barely hold back your shiver, the fall air rushing past you in a speed reminiscent of the ocean. "shit like that isn't your fault, i get you're.. you care, i know, but you don't have to apologize".

mark opts to awkwardly chuckle. "i don't really know what else to say.."

"you're a nice person to be around".

the words are enough to get a pause, but you don't exactly mind it, you said those words with conviction, as if you had previously thought them out and were completely sure of what they entailed.

or maybe you can secretly sense the effect they have, because mark isn't exactly the best at hiding the formations of his newest expressions. his eyes light up, the shine of the sun peeking behind the clouds amplifying the pleasure he recedes from the compliment.

your lips turn up by in the slightest, and you suck a breath between your teeth as you patiently await his response.

"oh" mark breaths, clearing his throat as he lets the strange feeling in his stomach settle away. "thank you.."

you don't reply, your smile simply mundane. you again kiss your teeth, mark's fingers fiddling at his necklace. "i.. uh— another thing i'm pretty interested in astronomy".

the mutter is half said, the rest of your words trailing off into something barely intelligible. mark's eyes dazzle in intrigue, astronomy is pretty interesting. "you like space?"

"i love space" you shake your head in disbelief at your own words. "it's pretty, the stars, the planets, just.. all of it is beautiful".

"and deadly".

now that one is a surprise, because you aren't able to stifle your laughter, your head shaking as a display of your amusement. "well yeah but that can be said for many things".

mark's eyes again dazzle, his own intrigue building up at the reply. "that's what makes a lot of the world interesting".

your eyebrow raise in a parroting of mark's own intrigue. "more like it's what makes it terrifying".

"terrifying can be interesting".

"i never said it couldn't".

your knees knock together, an indecisive look in your eye. you pull your sleeves over your arms when you begin noticing the goosebumps, a sigh leaving your lips immediately. "it's fine if you talk, i don't mind".

mark has no idea why, but he feels that those words are a lie. "it doesn't get repetitive?"

your expression falters for a simple moment, but instead of speaking, you keep your words to yourself. you shake your head silently, hands placed into your lap.

there's a moment of silence again, mark carefully crafts his next words, straightening his posture as he keeps his gaze trained straight ahead. "do you like drawing?"

seamless segway.

it would be seamless if mark wasn't shaking so much, maybe it was dumb of him to forget his sweater, but in his defense, it was warm in the morning! he would've been sweating on the way to school.

mark thinks if he focuses enough, he'll be able to hear the familiar continuous clicking of your pen in the background.

he again shudders, a small breath leaving his lips.

when you glances back at you, you smoothly slip your sweater from your arms and hand it over, slightly startling mark back. your face remains still, your gaze averting in an instant. "take it".

mark blinks dumbly.

you suck your teeth. "your cold, take it, you can give it back to me tomorrow".

"y/n—"

"you're not walking home cold.." you mutter, simply placing the sweater in mark's lap as you watch him again involuntarily shudder. "i'll be okay, don't worry about me".

mark wants to argue, but you leave no room for that, stubbornly crossing your arms. he takes the sweater and mutters a silent "thank you"

a somewhat ggressive act of kindness, mark guesses that's pretty fitting for the kind of person you are.

he still tries to get you to open up, and slowly, it seems to be working.

"i know you hate snow" he comments whilst you two walk down the hallway that friday. he tightens the grip he has on his bag, a small smile on his face as he pictures the upcoming winter. your hum is a usual response, a simple sound mark has to focus to even catch. "how do you plan to survive winter?"

you snicker silently, again humming. "can't do anything but walk".

"you better have good boots".

"i have good boots, maybe not a good jacket, though".

he's about to ask for clarification when the spawn of satan decides it's his time to shine; "markie!"

mark flinches when donghyuck comes around the corner, bouncing on his heels as he makes his way over to mark. mark's loud sigh ricochets off the walls of the hallway. "that's the bane of my existence.." he mutters towards you, and you chuckle lightly.

"you're so sweet to me" donghyuck's smile is strained, but he doesn't focus all his attention on mark that often. his eyes flit over towards you, and there's immediate intrigue there. "and you must be the famous y/n!"

the volume of his voice causes for your face to strain, but you keep it all together as to not offend him. you glance everywhere before again focusing on his face, a small smile showing up on your lips. "famous is.. probably pretty dramatic".

donghyuck exchanges a knowing look with mark, who blushes and clears his throat whilst feigning ignorance at that glance. he extends his hand towards you, whistling. "well with how mark is, it seems you are".

he snickers, and mark just barely keeps himself from punching the younger. you shake your head as you too shake his hand, avoiding mark's eyes. "okay then, it's nice to meet you.."

"donghyuck".

"donghyuck, nice to meet you".

mark watches the interaction with wide eyes, his mind rushing with a flurry of thoughts. "i can't believe this is our first time meeting! it's been a while since you two became friends huh?"

friends is a weird word, but you don't exactly comment on it. "yeah, mark has mentioned you before he just never said your name".

mark blows a breath between his lips, unaware of why his anxieties are suddenly rising. you glance at him, practically sensing the presence of his anxiety. mark almost jumps, but he manages to keep himself together. "i have to get home early, i'll see you monday".

you don't exactly seem sure of those words, but your smile makes it all look fine. "it was nice meeting you donghyuck".

the other only hums, you two exchanging smiles as you begin your way down the hallway, smile dropping once you get a wise distance away from them.

mark keeps the silence before donghyuck pipes up; "isn't he cute?"

mark chokes on his own spit, his face noticeably scrunching up as he glances in his childhood friends direction. "what?"

"don't tell me you've never thought it before" donghyuck snickers, affectionately nudging mark as an uncertain smile tugs at his lips.

"i haven't! you're so.. strange".

donghyuck narrows his eyes, clearly he doesn't believe such words. "okay mark, i'll believe that for your own sake".

and mark can't register why he assumes he's lying, donghyuck is just crazy.

donghyuck is just crazy.

OKAY, NOW THAT IT'S BEEN MENTIONED, MARK can't exactly stop thinking about it. donghyuck can be so stupid sometimes, but maybe it's somewhat justified. he never really took the time to focus on your facial features in specific, and he guesses that laying awake at three in the morning is the perfect time to focus on them. mark noticed everything, nose freckles, moles, the shape of your eyes, the curve of your lips, your dark brown irises, he usually picks off the physical traits of those he's meeting for the first time with stark detail in his own mind. he really never did think about it, but now he has all the time too.

are you cute? mark's eyes stick to the photos decorating his walls, the figures shrouded in darkness without the light of the sun permeating through the window aiding in producing the shin they so clearly require.

yeah, you are. mark isn't over admitting when he finds a guy cute, you can easily be described as such. there's something about the flicker of your eyes that entices him, but that's just.. strange.

he opts to rolling over, staring at his alarm clock nestled onto the bedside table. being kept up because you're stuck pondering about whether you're friend not friend is cute is absolutely idiotic. since when has this happened before?

that question is also idiotic, it hasn't.

he pulls the covers over him and nuzzles against his pillow, feigning ignorance to his flurry of thoughts with a sigh as he keeps the pattern of your moles pictured in his head.

thanksgiving breezes past just as it always does every year, donghyuck's family again comes over for the festivities ('festivities' equaling the sharing of meals while the two scarf down pretty much everything in the kitchen), but mark stays unfocused even with a bunch of people other than you around him.

then the end of november speed runs until mark's face scrunches at the upcoming first day of december.

december is too cold, there's no foresight of ice on the ground, no snow ready to sneak up on everybody just yet, but he doesn't care, he can already feel the grimace ready to be painted over his features.

and as the cold breeze balls up it's fist into an open punch, mark takes a small breath;

you said you hate winter.

mark gets it, but it's less of you hating winter and more of mark constantly thinking of.. well— you.

again, he doesn't exactly need to take history, the class is as useless to his academic record as it is interesting, but mark won't continue complaining, he's terrified mrs. lim can secretly read his mind.

"what class are you taking next semester?" mark whispers, leaning back in his seat as the widening of his eyes is in tune with his complete interest.

your shoulders rise in a puzzled shrug, the familiar drag of your pen now right in mark's ear. you don't make an effort to glance upward, but mark is aware you're paying adequate attention anyway. "not sure, they always tell me after, what are you taking?"

mark decides to completely scoot backward, the crack of knuckles causing for your face to scrunch. "computer programming".

there's a beam in your eyes. "as a senior?"

mark's snicker is a result of your tone. "it's for last minute credits, just like this class.."

"ah".

you again engross yourself in whatever it is you're doing in your notebook, mark attempts to sneak a glance, but you seem to sense his eyes, as you flip the page upward where his eyes can't meet it.

well shit, you caught him.

yet you don't mutter a single word about the event which just transpired, you simply continue with the similar drag of your pen.

at this point, the sound is a puzzling solacing noise for mark. he'll never utter such words loudly though, it's strange to admit that the sound of someone drawing in their notebook has become a sense of comfort for you.

mark sometimes wonders how deep the corners of his mind expand. "finals week is coming up".

you hum in reply, nodding your head, pen seemingly having a mind of it's own. mark glances over, unable to decipher the gleam of your eyes. it could be irritation, or maybe it's satisfaction, you're confident in the strength of your brain, it doesn't seem like you would struggle.

your eyes flit up for a moment, and then you snicker for a reason completely unknown to mark. "you nervous?" he decides to quip.

another hum. "always, but i trust most of my intellect".

"you should, you're very smart".

the compliment is spontaneous, an abrupt uttering that you clearly weren't expecting, as heat coils against your skin, the reddish tint clashing with your once vain cheeks. your lips part, the dragging of your pen subsides. you then glance away as you clear your throat, blowing smoke through your lips.

"i'm sure you'll be fine" mark finally finishes, big eyes bugging out as he decides to avert his gaze. "don't give me that look, i've observed, you have one of the highest grades in the class".

"it's all just.. nothing".

mark decides to snicker. "not nothing, you have the ability".

"i guess i'll take your word for it" tease lingers on your tongue. "smartest kid in class after all".

there, now you two are even. you just complimented mark with words that he hears from people everywhere, but hearing them from you is what gets a stupid smile out of him. "oh.. well i don't know about that one".

mark tucks a strand behind his ear, the slightest bit of meekness displayed by his eyes. your eyes flitter upward, and the curve of your lips is satisfying. "yeah you do, you're smart, honor roll smart".

"i would say you're the same".

you long to take those words as a challenge, mark notices a certain burning in your eyes, but you opt to a small smile instead. "not enough for honors".

"well i think so".

and maybe, that's the only thing that matters. your face appears to light up, but you decide it's best to not comment on such a thing.

as the colder days approach, mark learns even more about you he doesn't exactly expect.

and it all comes through smoking.

"what?"

you seem amused by the inquiry asked of you, and mark's eyes widen in their usual jolted fashion, his hands clutching at his sides. you seem to look through him, humor still present in your tone as you reply; "did you just.. you smoke?"

mark clears his throat, eyes immediately averting, his gaze zeroing in on the visible air he can see being blown through his lips. "it's like a— um, anxiety tick thing, sometimes when i get overwhelmed it helps".

you bite into your cheek, shoving a hand into your pocket as you rummage for a while, pulling out a lighter which you shake in air, listening to the clinking of the metal. mark's eyes again bug out, a usual reaction for him, his expression reminiscent of a child hearing someone swear for the first time. "oh.. so you smoke?"

you pass the lighter, whistling in the air as you nod. "yeah, same thing really, it's not regular or anything i just sometimes need to let go".

mark longs to ask why, and you practically read his mind with the words displayed all over his face. "my parents are such amazing stressors, it'd be a shock if i didn't smoke at this point".

he can only stare, blowing smoke out from his lips as he watches it form in front of him. "it gets bad for me during exam season, finals get to my head and i can't resist".

"your parents don't know?"

mark shakes his head rapidly back and forth, a snicker falling from his lips. "nope, i think they would kill me if they found out.. can't let them know".

you opt to once again humming, shoving the lighter back in your pocket as your nose scrunches. you scratch behind your ear, howling winds earning the slightest shiver from you. "ah, i see".

mark keeps himself silent, teeth sinking into his bottom lip as he stares forward, his eyes then falling to the ground. it's bare, empty, the sight of snow may meet his eyes in the coming days, maybe tomorrow even, the weather has always been know as unpredictable, a snowstorm could happen tonight, mark is afraid of that one.

"please don't tell anyone" mark whispers, eyes still cast downward. it's embarrassing, not even donghyuck knows that he does, and he's sure donghyuck is a smoker himself. he isn't exactly sure why.. he just knows what the reaction would be. "it's.. um, i don't know actually, feels like everyone thinks of me as a certain person so if they were to find out—"

"i won't tell" you state immediately, raising your pinky. "you have my word" is your next collection of words, mark blinks at you with shining eyes.

a pinky promise? he isn't sure what he expected, but he guesses they are the closest thing to a legally binding agreement.

mark intertwines his pinky with yours, the clash of your fingers together something of a prospect. your finger is rough, his are soft, he can't help but keep that fact tucked away in his mind. "pinky swear?"

"pinky swear".

mark decides he will take your word for it.

he supposes pinky swears do a lot for people, as long as the promise isn't broken, he won't have a reason as to not trust you.

IT'S A WEEK BEFORE FINALS WHEN MARK REALIZES yet another thing he doesn't exactly mean to discover. your simply.. esteemed love for thai food is a prospect he didn't exactly expect, but with a week until finals and the end of the year breathing down your neck, he guesses learning more about you is the right way to go. he wonders if there'll be many more turns to take in the future, he wonders how much truly runs through your heads. through picking your nails and raising eyebrows, he's already been able to decipher a lot, maybe he could just learn more if..

"do you know any good thai restaurants nearby?" he inquires, arms placed idly as he again admires your side profile. you hum, scratching at the sleeves of your sweater. it's a pretty one, the hue is a dark red, mark is curious on if the shades of red are your favorite, he forgets to ask.

your snort is short. "not in this town, it's a distance away from here, used to go regularly as a kid, it'll never get old.."

"so it's like.. a place of comfort?"

"basically" you reply, getting comfortable in your chair. it's the midway point of the period, the class is doing nothing but studying for finals next week, it leaves room for flurries of conversations mark otherwise wouldn't have been able to have with you.

it's nice, discussions flow a little easier between you two now that you've gotten slightly closer. though skepticism remains at an all time high (mark picks up on the mutters you occasionally let slip about your parents, something along the lines of fighting, loose funds, substances, his eyebrows keep furrowed), mark finds the now regular talks a fond juncture.

he rests his head onto his fist, scratching at his jaw with mid length nails. "when was your last visit?"

you shrug despite clearly knowing your response, arms coming to fold over your chest. "i haven't gone since high school began, makes sense because that's when i got put with.. them".

'them' equating to your current foster parents, mark unconsciously slides downward in his seat, anxiety rising. he observes the twitching of your left eye, a sight almost frightening.

"do you— um.. can you go again?"

your right eye closes, a sign of your contemplation. "they're.. my parents, they're crazy".

"have you never attempted to sneak?"

you chuckle, seemingly amused. "really? sneaking? i would've never thought that from you".

"i took part a few times, you could thank donghyuck for that one" mark keeps his head leaned sideways, it's easy to admire your features in this manner. you have a nice side profile, the left of your jaw perfectly highlighted in the lighting of the room. your lips curve upward at the reply, enjoyment behind your eyes.

"oh, i see, you're that kind of pair".

mark longs to figure out the meaning of those words, but you once again begin whistling, arms folding over your chest.

a specific question keeps echoing in mark's mind.

"you could.. uh— why don't we go together?"

you blink, dumbfounded. you study mark for a moment, and he suddenly feels unconscious under your gaze. you then silently snicker, just the slightest bit amused. "what?"

his hands find purchase on the desk before him, eyes avoiding yours, throat clearing. "um.. i just— i don't know, you seem to be fond of the place, wouldn't visiting be nice?"

your eyes narrow. "you're so.. wow, okay".

you chuckle, hiding your oncoming expression behind the cover of your own hands. mark remains anxious at the lack of a reply, nails coming to scratch at his hands. "is that a no?"

"no, no! you're just.. too sweet" you opt to reply, laughter carrying you through. mark feels heat coil over his cheeks, he's sure that it may manifest in color which permeates his skin, but he can't exactly think about that.

"oh, um— i.."

"while i would love to go" you begin, smoothing your hands over your jeans. "that's implying i have to sneak out".

oh, mark can't believe how dangerously impulsive he is.

but instead of a snark, you smile, it's small, yet it results in genuine ease sinking into mark's anxiety ridden heart, his hands coming to clasp together. "that was a dumb thing to say right? i'm sorry, forget i even said anything".

you contemplate for a moment, mark's anxiety again rising as your silence merely continues. "that's a good idea, it'd be nice to go before it starts snowing".

mark almost dies, was that just a yes?

you seemingly read his mind, because your lips do a swift upturn. "i guess i wouldn't mind sneaking out".

mark blinks, attempting to properly register the words without looking like a crazy person. "i didn't— i mean.. you don't have to, i don't want to get you in trouble, if it does—"

"doesn't matter" you cross your arms, leaning back in your seat. "at this point, getting grounded is a blessing for me, it's not that far a walk".

"are you sure?"

you lick your teeth. "i've been conditioned to hide my money better, they barely pay any attention to me".

mark digests the depression littering those words, but you keep up appearances, preventing the dejection from blossoming up in your features. there's shy disappointment behind your eyes, yet you don't comment. "i'm sorry.."

your head snaps in his direction rather quickly. "for what?"

mark shakes his head in reply. "i.. um—"

"don't apologize for something that isn't your fault".

mark bites his tongue before he allows for another apology to slip, your eyebrow raise simply enough to shut him up. you remain the slightest bit terrifying, even after established friendship. "can't help it.."

he picks at his nails, feeling the burning sensation of your eyes on the spot. he guesses his anxiety is really that permeable, and he longs to change the topic. "let's just hope the grades are good, yeah?"

"are you saying you wanna be study buddies?"

"i mean.. that's sort of how our relationship began" one click to your pen, mark tilts his head at the sight of your notebook. it's a simple hardcover, no label, a blank dark shade, yet it seems to carry a large entailing of significance, just like the pen, it has to contain something of an emotional connection to you, maybe, similarly to mark, you form attachments to even the smallest of things.

the use of the word 'relationship' earns a puzzling manner of expression, as if you have to rethink how you two interacted before the establishment of.. your now larger bond.

"that's cute".

you again open your notebook, yet another click to your pen as you begin.. something. mark has never been courageous enough to inquire about it to you, but he assumes there's some length of artistic expression in your personality, or maybe you just really enjoy writing, or you just scribble back and forth. really, mark can't assume what he doesn't know, and maybe you just don't want to divulge such a thing, he doesn't mind.

he simply observes, staring for long enough that you catch sight of it through your peripheral vision. "you'll do well, alright?"

you glance over at him, as if puzzled by the sudden reassurance. mark almost worries that you'll punch him in the face, his mind really needs to stop going down that route. "alright, let's hope you give me your luck".

MARK IS SURE HE COULD PERFECTLY RECITE EVERY SINGLE printed word in the several textbooks he's been staring at with nothing but pure disgruntlement for these past few days. there's a flurry of muddled information swirling around in his brain, he's afraid he might be taking a history quiz and begin scribbling down the formula of quotient entities. the many trigonometry equations have begun rotting him from the inside out, you've practically been an angel of a study buddy for these past few days, even despite the many whispers you let slip about you sleeping through pretty much all of trigonometry. you have strikingly straight notations, not even a letter out of place, penned compositions littering each page.

he can barely help the upturn of his lips.

"didn't you take trig last year? you're supposed to remember these things".

mark keeps his forehead pressed to the desk, the cool air just barely disturbing him. "trig is pretty much useless, math isn't my strong suit".

your eyebrows furrow. "you still got an a".

mark scoffs. "wow, thanks for supporting me with my endless struggle".

your chuckles now appear much more vibrant, some timidity remains, but it's better than how it all was in september, the change jumps out to mark, you're just so—

"you sound defeated, don't worry mark, you're still honor roll smart".

his heart constricts for a moment, and while he would usually be worried he was experiencing some length of a health risk, he knows it isn't that (but he guesses you could result in a heart attack, you're simply very..), but he can never be too sure.

your handwriting is irritatingly neat, nothing of an observable mistake despite pen clearly being used. is it the same pen? do you keep pens? do you like pens? his intrigue towards you could extend for miles, but he lets it stay inward no matter what.

your eyes gleam with the light of an indescribable entity. "do you.. would you still want to go out to eat on friday?"

mark blinks, contemplating despite the very much known answer. "yeah, i brought it up, if it makes you happy.."

"well you should also think about yourself, if you don't want to go—"

"no, no! i do" mark unfortunately can't arise much excuses for his sudden enthusiasm. he notices the amusement on your own features, but he doesn't make a comment. "besides, we won't see much of each other next week, and then the break will come right after".

winter break is usually its own blessing in mark's eyes, but there's this strange installment of fear this year. he isn't sure the extent your parents go, no signs of anything physical that he can see, yet he worries about you just having to be there for a length of almost two weeks. from what he's observed, school seems to be your only source of escape from whatever goes on at home, and he's aware that a student's safe place being school is typically a bad sign.

but maybe that's too much to just tell you right off the bat, you might think he's crazy, you probably already think he's a little crazy.

"aww, you're gonna miss me".

and mark is unsure of why, but a red hue strikes his formerly vain skin, it's simply mindless teasing, yet he can't help his flustered nature. jesus, he might actually have a heart attack, why did the room suddenly spike in temperature?

if you notice, you make no comment. oh that must've been a good ego boost.

"yeah um.. we've really come a long way since september".

he's sounding a little too sentimental, a break really is nothing, mark guesses donghyuck was right, he does care way too much, even so, he feels it's justified. you stare for a moment, scribbling something in your notebook as your gaze averts. "thanks for not giving up on me, even if i was an unbearable asshole in the beginning".

"don't say that" mark softly chides.

"it's pretty true, you can admit it".

he clears his throat, smile displayed. "so are you gonna come to me friday?"

you nod. "if i don't get caught".

mark doesn't mean to showcase his anxiety in the manner of his expression switch, but hiding his lingering fright has proven him extremely difficult, his mother said it's 'detrimental' to commit such an act.

you tilt your head. "are you okay?"

mark nods much too quickly, rendered somewhat speechless. "fine".

the rest of the day is surprisingly less awkward than he expects.

the week completely exhausts mark, he could probably hang onto his own eye bags at this point. though you feign bright normalcy, it's obvious that you're just as tired, you'll both be wiped out after finals.

yet you seem pretty lighthearted.

"you sure walking is just fine?"

"we could hop the train".

a small frown tugs at mark's lips, but the joke isn't exactly distasteful. "i've never gotten that far" the overcast sky clashes with your dark jacket, it's somewhat of a picturesque image, your best features are explicitly highlighted, even with the shadowed sunlight.

"really? i did once in eighth, the conductor let us off at the middle of nowhere, we got a terrible scolding after that one".

mark's eyebrows furrow, there's a lack of context in that reply, as if you said it to yourself instead of to mark. "us?"

your nose scrunches for a minute. "old foster friend, i used to do everything to get in trouble, he'd tag along for the adventure of it".

"oh".

mark doesn't mean to extend the silence, but talking isn't anything of an accord to you, it's easy to sink into a fit of silence, nothing of a bother.

things appear so young and innocuous outside, sometimes mark believes that nature could be the perfect picture of innocence, if it didn't also harbor an equal opportunity of available danger. he shivers, almost slipping on ice which lays dormant on the floor, no snow yet.

mark wishes he could have not a care in the world, and judging by your circumstances, you clearly do too.

the place is a way's walk, but mark guesses it was good to get in some steps. it appears pretty homely, somewhat aged, the walls are cracked, tiles exposed, and from the captured glimpse of the menus, they're old laminated ones.

you stare with fondness, the smell bringing a sense of warmth to you, as if the place healed your scars. "basically, this place is my home".

"is the food up to par?"

"you don't even have to ask".

mark chuckles, and you can't resist your own corresponding chuckle.

"y/n? is that you?"

at the call of your name you blink, smiling right away. it's an older woman, early fifties probably, her jaw hanging in a manner of recognition. "oh you're so big now!"

"hi mrs. saeng" you don't step away, instead you allow for her to fully embrace you, mark simply observing. "sorry, i know last time i said my next visit would be soon".

"oh it doesn't matter, you're still so adorable!" she squeals as she cups your cheeks, completely rendering you speechless. "and your friend is..?"

"mark" you just barely speak through the squeezing of your cheeks. "he's my classmate".

the woman smiles, a huge, homely smile that strikes comfort mark wasn't exactly expecting. his hands come to clasp in front of him, the typical sweet smile taking over his features. "hi, it's nice to meet you".

she gapes in her spot. "he's even cuter than you! oh my goodness look at his cheeks!"

your nose scrunches up in offense, yet it's clearly feigned. "cuter than me? that's rude to say auntie!"

she crazily fawns before you sit, and as you observe the laminated menus which appear on their last lives, your lips take an upturn, but not at a specific thing, simply at them. "auntie?" he inquires.

you snicker. "there's no relation, she's just an old family friend".

auntie by association, mark guessed that one, he again didn't recognize any sort of relation between you two.

and really, it seems you haven't eaten in a while, mark can't help but observe the tiny things. "did you have breakfast this morning?"

you pause, pretending you are genuinely contemplating something. he's pretty sure you burn your tongue midway through inhaling the bouts of food, yet that seems to be the last of your worries, he can't help the goofy laughter which escapes him at that. "it upsets my stomach".

mark doesn't bother inquiring about lunch, his gaze immediately softening. "you need to make sure you always eat, okay?"

you stare, mark supposes the words appear a bit shallow. sometimes people can barely get out of bed, not even able to roll over to throw off their covers, or fold their blankets, or they find themselves rendered so exhausted that mundane tasks extract so much energy.

but it seems you reply with a soft gaze of your own, radiance carrying your expression. "okay".

mark hums, leaning back in his seat. "so what is this place to you?"

you don't even glance upward. "special spot, it holds good memories, from way before everything that's happened.. well— happened".

"you brought me to your special spot, so i'm special?"

you finally do spare a glance, your smile is one of the prettiest sights ever. "of course".

a smile blossoms over his features, his posture unconsciously straightening. he isn't sure why the news excites him so much, he'll internalize it though.

WHEN IT GETS TO A CERTAIN POINT, MARK IS UNSURE OF HOW HE LIVES through the week. he has always prided himself on his intelligence, it isn't the topics which perturb him, it's the extent of his own mind. his eyes grow heavier with each passing day, his wrists may have gone limp, but he doesn't pass out just yet, a good record in comparison to last year. it's simply exam after exam after exam, blue pen marks clashing in the visions of his dreams. he can't even close his eyes without seeing muddled geometric equations, he's going to begin reciting them in the startling mumbles midway through one of his sleepwalking episodes. it's a miracle how he makes it through finals week, but he does, possibly no bad markings.

the exams happen to be the least of his issues though, throughout his week, he was mainly stuck on christmas, specifically stuck on christmas gifts, specially stuck on christmas gifts for you.

again, you two only have one double period class together, and the week is full of packet after packet, nothing of a technical interaction going down. the somewhat date-y nature of your restaurant outing comforted him through the piercing manner of trigonometry, he guesses it's pretty funny.

mark's mind reverts back to the many moments of you scribbling with your pen in your notebook, the specific mini sketches you have kept placed beside your trig notations, and it becomes clear what he should get you as a gift.

when the week finally comes to a close, mark is simply glad that he's alive, glad that the information didn't all mix into mush, glad that he got a seemingly perfect gift for you.

"okay, how do you think you did?"

a scrunch of your nose is the opted response, but you don't seem any worried. "it should all be fine, i think all the information seeped into my brain".

the reply draws a chuckle, mark allowing for his head to tip downward. "you're probably the reason i passed, have some faith in yourself".

"hey, you have to give yourself some credit too, you're pretty much a genius".

mark, again, blushes. he doesn't mean for it all to shine through, he simply can't help it. you're much too sweet, even through your whispered compliments, terms shyly spilling from your lips while your head remains downturned.

it's.. cute.

you begin picking at your nails, clearing your throat. mark smiles at you; "thanks, but i really couldn't have done it without you".

you definitely want to argue with that, but your mouth plops shut, your eyes darting away. "i'm so fucking tired".

"maybe you should sleep through this break".

you giggle at that one, eyes seemingly getting heavier. "sleeping is really all i can do anyway",

mark hums, attempting to inconspicuously eye the box he carried all around the day. he pays a few glances between before taking in a huge breath, a breath which you causes the furrow of your brows. "um.. uh— okay, don't freak out".

apparently those words do a lot, as you let out possibly the loudest laugh ever since you two became friends. something about his delivery possibly, the amusement manifests in your movement, much less in your laughter. "are you gonna pull out a gun or something?"

mark frowns, true annoyance in naught. "no, i just have a gift for you and i don't—"

your laughter comes to an immediate stop, head tilting sideways, puzzled. "you.. what?"

mark blanks for a moment, the words disappearing into the air. "christmas is coming up, i uh.. you know we won't see each other during christmas, so i got you something".

you blink, dumbfounded, absolutely staggered, as if the act is terribly unheard of. you almost appear terrified, a callback to the moment where you called mark a weirdo for his regard when your knuckles were aptly split.

you're sending him one of those looks.

"why would you— did you spend your own money why would you do that?"

and there's less of disbelief there, more of guilt, guilt mark can't idly place. you shouldn't feel guilty for anything, yet you seem to. "hey, it's okay, it was all in my own will, just open it".

mark is even more excited than you, sliding the completely totally cynical box over despite your insanely watchful eye. your facial muscles twitch in desperation to display your own enthusiasm, but you somehow keep it at bay.

your fingers twitch. "what is it?"

"that would ruin the surprise".

mark is very impatient, tapping his feet incessantly, fingers again coming to repeat the act in a somewhat similar rhythm. you stare down the box, possibly hoping for it to open itself. he begins getting anxious after a moment, the less than rapid unwrapping keeping a tension in the air.

you seem to want to take your time, as if fearing as creature hidden in the box. mark places his hands in his lap, gazing endlessly.

when you finally pear into it, you again tilt your head, blinking. "holy shit".

mark snickers, that has to be a good one. "yeah".

"how did you— why did you— oh my god.."

it's simple, but mark was aware it would have the desired effect. you stare downward, completely and utterly astonished, you don't expect it, of course you don't, yet the reaction is great for mark.

you're out of words for a moment, so mark decides to take that time; "i sort of observed— i mean.. i figured you liked drawing, art, saw your notebook, saw your sketches, it seemed like the perfect gift to get you".

you blink again, simply pure devotion behind your eyes, as if you were one term from confessing your love to him. it's a art set, a cute kit consisting of colored pencils, markers, and even paintbrushes, it looks.. expensive. "how much..?"

"it doesn't matter" he cuts in, clasping his hands. "i wanted to get you something".

that should be enough.

you seem to struggle with what to say, unable to find the exact words until your lips begin trembling. "thank you, i don't know how to repay you".

"you don't have to".

a frown tugs at your lips, you clearly don't like the sound of that one. "i'll get you a gift of your own after the break, don't worry".

mark's nose scrunches, but he can't argue with you, because he really does want a gift, yearns to see what it may all add up to. he clears his own throat, hands smoothing over his thighs.

"i just wanted to get you something because—"

"i know, thank you".

he can't even help staring in the manner he does, his lips taking an upturn, eyes holding remaining regard he's always known he felt.

"it's nothing".

well, mark guesses it is something, he just has to figure out what something exactly entails.

#mark lee #nct #nct 127 #nct dream #nct u #mark nct #nct imagines #nct drabbles #nct scenarios #mark lee imagines #mark lee drabbles #mark lee scenarios #mark lee x reader #nct x reader #mark lee x male reader #𑁍 ࣪˖ 𓂃 isa's works!

66 notes · View notes

neowinestainedress · 3 days ago

Text

- so what is hyuck wearing? nothing? oh fuck me. shirtless hyuck baking oh my god I DONT EVEN WANT TO STSRY

tbh i think i pictured him with just a shirt he was wearing underneath but you know what... i love this different point of view!!!

- of course, a relationship without an actual title, with hyuck, honestly i will take anything too.

unfortunately i love this dynamic way too much and i think it shows... oops...

I'M SORRY BUT I LOVE HOW YOU SAID "here's the crucial part" ten times lmao i'm sorry for making you suffer

- I SCREAMMMMM LIKE HOW ARE YOU SO GOOD WITH THIS??? 😭😭😭 like after all the narration and you put these 6 words in one simple paragraph, i just-- IT JUST FIT AND IT FIT PERFECTLY I LOVE YOU SO MUCH THANK YOU SO MYXH FOR WIRTING YEAH THIS IS MY SUSDEN CONFESSION IN THE MIDDLE OF RWADINF

THANK YOU OMG AOJSOAOSA

- YALL ARE ACADEMICALLY RIVALS BUT NOT RIVALS IN ROMANTIC FEELINGS OH MY GOD BUT YES I UNDERSTAND THAT BUT GOD THE TENSION WHY ARE SMART PEOPLE DOESNT KNOW HOW TO COMMUNICATE GODDAMN

it's the way this time it wasn't even about miscommunication but about pride ahskajsa

- lemme tell you both the answer, you two want to do it together. YEAH I KNOW THE CAREER PATH IS SO PERSONAL AND INDIVIDUAL BUT since you two are working on it together and it suddenly sparks the interest, it's because the two of you work on it together.

CONGRATULATIONS! you predicted the future

- STFU YOU TWO 😭😭 the way i want this to end here cuz lets be real im not ready for another misunderstanding (which i think there wil be or im just traumatised with hits different but i also want this to be longer CUZ YOU WRITE IT SO GOOD AND I JUST WANT THEM TO BE HAPPY BUT I ALSO WANT TO FEEL THE ANGST CUZ THAT IS WHAT BUILD FOR OH GODDDD IM SO INDECISIVE

omg i really traumatized people with hits different 😭😭😭 but i've been good this time, i think i should be forgiven

- FUCK YEAH I LOVE THE EVERLASTING ACADEMIC RIVALS EVEN WHEN ROMANTIC FEELING ALREADY OFFICIALLY INVOLVED

THIS!!! i hate when rivals/enemies get together and the tension dies i needed to make sure this wasn't the case!

-MY PARENTS???? GIRL THEY ARE MY PARENTS!!!!! - SHUT UP SHUT UPPPP OH MY GODDDDD THIS IS NOT HITS DIFFERENT 2.0 I CHEERS (well hits different does get their happy ending BUT OH MY GOD TO GET IT ON THE SAME FIC RIGHT AWAY GLDHSLSHSLSHSKS GOODBYE SANITY)

wait is this a pov question or am i just stupid and you're saying you love them so much they're you're parents 😭 I DON'T ALWAYS GO AROUND CAUSING HEARTBREAK I PROMISE!!!

DON'T WORRY! i love reading about your thoughts and it doesn't matter if it comes out a year after i posted the fic, i will always enjoy reading it! i'm glad you liked it, i love academic rivals to lovers but i'm also picky with this trope so to know someone who enjoys it loved this fic makes me really happy.

SO PEOPLE GET THE DETAILS I PUT IN THIS OMG THANK YOU!!! i mean i know it's stupid because if you bias haechan this are known things and i know that's why people don't come gag in my asks or comments and be like "omg you put this" but i still have to think about it and to write everything in a way it makes sense so i'm happy when people point it out 😭 OKAY I EVEN HAVE A SCENE OF THEM CALLING THEMSELVES WITH NICKNAMES "BEAR" AND "HONEY" THAT WOULD BE SO CORNY BUT ALSO CUTEEEEEE no no i agree and i LOVE THIS OMG it's canon that that's how they have each other saved in the contacts idc

the friendship wasn't even that present at the start but i really wanted her to find a group of people so here we are... yeah lmao i kinda forgot about it and i have the profiles half done (tbh i only had in mind to post the after of haechan and the mc, but simply because i have to make two of them if i want to add the reader and it would take time) i also have to post the song project design. i'll try to post it next week!

thank you so so so much for this! you have no idea how happy it makes me to know you like my writing so much! (toxic!hyuck is something we don't talk about around here (no but seriously we came a long way lol)) love you! 💙

wave | lee donghyuck (part two)

part 1 | masterpost | full fic not split in two

pairing: lee donghyuck x fem reader genre: college au, academics rivals to lovers, kinda fake dating, forced to work together on a project, smut, fluff, humor (idk), music major!haechan, music major!mc | not really requested but thank you 💌 anon for the inspo summary: your indifference toward Lee Donghyuck, also known as Haechan, becomes rivalry when he decides to sabotage you. The battle turns into a war, the war turns into a plan, and the plan, well, the plan fails miserably... or succeeds wonderfully. After all, it’s all about points of view. Or, Haechan thinks he found a way to distract you and be better than you, but doesn’t think it thoroughly and screws it up. warnings: smut, weed/alcool consumption, thigh riding, oral (receiving, giving), unprotected sex, teasing, etc | inclusivity notes: reader wears different hairstyles (no mention of texture, type and color), no mention of body type (but haechan lifts her a few times), no mention of skin color, no use of y/n wc: 20.3k (out of 42k)

a/n: here’s the second part. please if you liked it leave feedback (comments, reblogs, asks), i love knowing your opinions and it keeps me motivated to keep posting my writing. enjoy!

After too many dates, too many studying sessions together, and in general too much time spent together —even with his group of friends— you feel like this is a relationship that simply hasn’t been named, yet. Something about everything doesn’t feel like just sex and hate.

You’re fine like this, for once believing you can let loose a little and still do well in your studies.

Haechan, instead, thinks his plan is going amazingly. He knows he has you distracted, he knows he takes away your time, and he knows everything is technically perfect. But the plan is not the best made of his life, and the more time passes, the more he forgets about it, and the more he thinks about you.

He never planned to use you, that had to be clear. He just wanted to distract you with sex —something you both wanted to have— and give you a boyfriend experience so you could write the song in the best way possible. But in doing all that, he is more caught up in you —and not only because of the plan, he is just caught up in you— than in his studies.

It’s nine pm on Sunday after he dropped you home around four pm this afternoon. He made you meet his girl friends too for lunch and then you went back to his place to stay together for a while. But even if you spent almost the entire day together, he still misses you.

He rolls on his back as he goes into his contacts to text you again, he doesn’t have to scroll down, you’re second on the list since he last annoyed you forty minutes ago but you still haven’t replied.

haechan: can you answer me?

haechan: i miss you : (

haechan: you didn’t even let me eat you out

haechan: you looked so pretty in that skirt i think it looks better with my head underneath it

haechan: fuck and now i’m hard thinking about you

mortal enemy: the only hard thing should be the books you should be studying on, remember we have a test tomorrow?

“Fuck,” he screams, sitting up. “What?”

He never forgets these things. He always writes them down in his agenda that he maniacally reads every day to make sure he’s always on time with his studying schedule. He can’t have forgotten about it. But, apparently, he did.

His thumb quickly wipes to call you and your answer doesn’t let him wait.

“I’m studying,” you huff annoyed as you pick up his phone call right away.

“Why would you go out with me if tomorrow we have a test?”

Your chuckle reaches his ear through the phone before he gets to hear your voice again. “Why not?”

“Don’t you want to be the top one? What about your grades? This adds up for the finals.” Panic fills his voice, he’s hoping you remembered just now and haven’t been studying since you went back, but you’re too relaxed for that to be true.

“Yeah, I know,” you reply, too calmly for his liking. Was his plan working? No, because you knew about it. And he completely erased the test, too busy thinking about you.

“And you go out?” He asks again as anxiety starts to take over him.

“Why would I lock myself up before a test? It’s not even that serious. There’s the topic you pick, and then like four questions that will surely be the main things we discussed in class, Professor Kim only knows one way of making tests.”

He groans, he can’t believe you’re always so ahead of him. “How do you know these things?”

“I use my brain,” you reply nonchalantly.

“So you started studying… when you got home?”

“Last week.”

“Last week? Are you kidding me?” He screams so loud that he’s sure you have to move the phone from your ear.

You sigh, rubbing your temples, Haechan knows it, you always do that when he pisses you off somehow. “You didn’t open the book at least once until now?”

“I…” I would usually read through the notes at least once a week, but I’ve been too busy. “I’ve… I read the notes, until some weeks ago. I got busy, okay?”

“Were you perhaps distracted by something Hyuck?” You ask teasingly, and he can see you twirl the end of your hair in your fingers while your tongue pokes at your cheek.

“Nothing distracts me,” he mutters, frowning even if you can’t see him.

“Then hang the call and try to read the notes at least, I’ll send you the recordings of the lessons, play them all night maybe something will stick to your brain.”

“Okay, bye. Wish me good luck, please,” he says, and you chuckle. “No seriously, don’t manifest against me, I need all your good energy.”

“I will, Hyuck. Just give it a quick read and then try to get as much sleep as possible. You have a brain and you’re smart with it, it’s better for you to be active tomorrow than force information that just won’t get in, alright?”

He hums, weirdly feeling a bit calmer at your words. “’kay, goodnight, babe.”

“Goodnight.”

Haechan sighs, slumping on the bed, boner long gone and anxiety on his chest, until the screen lights up again and a few messages from you show up.

mortal enemy: 10 audios + 10 files ‘music theory notes’ sent the audios anyway but my *perfect* notes should be enough to not make you pull up an all-nighter also don’t stress too much, I appreciate the act of chivalry to make me top this class grades again :;

He forgot about an exam, he didn’t study for it, yet he’s smiling like an idiot because of you.

Haechan’s screwed.

“So, how did it go?” You ask, blocking Haechan as soon as the bell rings and Professor Kim dismisses the class, letting you know the results will be in next week.

Haechan glares at you, and you suck your teeth. “Come on, it wasn’t that difficult,” you say, sitting on his desk, as he looks for something in his bag.

“I did great, I just don’t want to admit your notes are perfect and were enough to save my ass,” he says, and you can’t hold back the smile.

“You’re welcome,” you say, standing up and kicking him playfully with a swing of your hips.

“Hey! You could’ve made me fall,” he jokes, grabbing his bag before taking a step back so you can lead the way out of there. “And thank you.”

You chuckle, lowering your head to hide that dumb grin on your face. “You know, I wanted to ask you why we never revisited music theory but I thought you wanted to do it on your own, maybe you were scheming something against me.”

“What? I would never scheme against you,” he says as you start walking to lunch.

You stare at him with a raised brow, and he huffs. “It was in the past and you did it too. Also, what would I scheme?”

“I don’t know, maybe you sneaked into his office and stole the test to already know the answers?”

“That would be cheating, not beating you. There’s no fun in that,” he says, holding the door of the cafeteria open for you.

“You’re such a fair rival,” you joke as you head to the buffet to grab something to eat.

“Wait,” he stops you when your plates are full. “Why don’t you sit at our table? I hate seeing you eat alone.”

“Have you ever considered I can’t stand how loud your friends are?”

“Oh come on, you already deal with them when you come to my place.”

“Exactly.”

Haechan huffs, standing in front of you to stop you from going toward your table. “We can go to yours today.”

You furrow, lightly tilting your head to the side. “We don’t have anything to study.” You try to decipher his expression and think if you could get so distracted to forget something you had to work on or revisit. “The song?”

He shakes his head. “I might…” he pauses, trying to find a way to say what he wants to say that’s not so humiliating, but then he gives up with a heavy sigh that rolls from his lips. “Okay, I need help.”

“You?” You scream, attracting some attention on you, and Haechan glares at you, pulling you to the sides so that the curious gazes can linger away from you.

“Yes, me,” he replies through gritted teeth. “It’s just a small thing, but I don’t get it.”

You smirk smugly and he rolls his eyes. “Fine, I can’t wait to tutor you,” you reply, starting to walk to his group of friends’ table.

“Why can’t I ever win with you?” He whispers, shaking his head and following you.

You’re not sure Haechan told you the truth. He is smart but he isn’t the best actor ever, and when he came to your place to try to understand that small thing he didn’t understand in sociology, you were pretty sure it was just an excuse. You explained it in less than five minutes, he got it too quickly and immediately started messing around.

You don’t mind it, though. You enjoy spending some time with him. He’s a good distraction. Surely you would’ve fixed some notes or listened to some lessons instead of… well, instead of being on his lap with your fingers in his hair and his hands on your ass, grinding on him.

You hold in a moan when he concentrates on your neck, kissing, biting, and sucking the spot that makes you shiver. And you’d like to go on like this, but you need more. So you shift on top of his thigh, while yours presses against his hardening dick and makes him growl.

“What are you do—”

“Shh,” you shush him quickly, pressing your thumb on his lips before replacing it with your lips. “Ouch,” you gasp when he bites on your lower lip. “Why did you do that?”

Haechan chuckles, shrugging before leaning close to you again. “Why not?”

You frown but have no intention of carrying it any further. You can feel your panties stick to your skin and you just want to come, not really caring if it’s just like this.

But the moment of intimacy, if you could call it that, gets interrupted by the buzzing of his phone in his pocket.

“God, just answer,” you yell when Haechan ignores the third call but whoever is on the other line has no intention to stop trying.

Haechan rolls his eyes as his right hand leaves your ass to search through his pocket and huffs annoyed when he sees the name on the screen.

“Jaemin, what?” Haechan groans as you keep moving on his thighs, ignoring his deadly glare. “No, I’m busy.”

You faintly make out an angry reply from the other side, but you don’t care enough to understand what Jaemin’s saying.

“No, I can’t go out with you.”

“We can,” you reply loudly enough so that Jaemin can hear while Haechan scowls at you again, muttering a scold under his breath, but his anger is quickly addressed to his friend on the other side.

“Yes, I’m with her,” he huffs, rolling his head back, trying to stop your movements but failing. “Don’t ask questions. And yes, fine, fine.”

When he hangs the call after mumbling a quick, annoyed goodbye, you chuckle. “Thought you didn’t want to hear my annoying friends?” It’s all he asks, leaving a small, teasing slap on your asscheek.

“What were we supposed to do? Stay inside all day?”

“Yes, we have everything here,” he says, spreading his arms to point around. “And you’re still grinding on me.” He looks down, eyes narrowing as he stares at your hips.

“I’ll finish and then we’ll get out,” you wink, starting to move faster but he has no intention to get back into the mood, not yet, at least.

“You’ll stain my pants and where do I come?” He huffs, and you’re sure he’s trying to find an excuse to don’t go outside rather than one to don’t fuck with you. He would never say no to that, especially when you two are already in the middle of it.

“Take them off,” you urge, jumping off him, waiting for him to get undressed as you do the same, your panties the only thing staying on. “Come on. You don’t want to be late.”

Haechan groans, “you’re so… so greedy. You just want everything.”

“Yeah, am I allowed to have one flaw?” You bat your lashes at him, grinning when his eyes roll in the back of his head. “Oh, will I stain the underwear, too?” You ask when his lower half is completely bare to your eyes.

“Honey, I’m not coming inside my boxers, can’t wear your panties to hang out with the boys,” he says annoyed.

You chuckle, climbing on his thigh again, watching him whimper when your bare leg brushes against his dick and you press on him to be as close as you were before.

He doesn’t know why you didn’t take the panties off, but he knows he doesn’t want them there. He wants to feel you on his skin. As hot as this is, he wants to feel your pussy drip down his thigh, and your panties are stopping the full experience.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake, Donghyuck!” You scream when the sound of the fabric ripping hits your ears and the chill air of the room hits your warm core.

He groans. “It’s so hot when you say my real name with an angry tone, makes it hard to hold back fucking you.”

“You need to stop ripping my stuff,” you complain, trying to hide how hot you found that, the ripping of the panties and that fucking smirk on his face now that he lays back against the headboard of your bed, so proud and snotty that is hard for you to hold back fucking him.

“Shut up, you love it,” he says, pulling you into a rough kiss, pushing your body closer while his hand rests on your hips to guide you in the movements. “Also they weren’t a good pair, if you were in lingerie I would’ve asked you politely to take them off.”

“You will never see me in lingerie,” you retort, pulling away as your hand sneaks down and starts moving up and down on his throbbing cock.

“Fuck,” he groans, “at least warn me?”

“I’m half naked, grinding on top of you and I have to warn you when I grab your dick?” You ask. “If you don’t want, I won’t make you come.”

“No, just —fuck,” he glares at you when you concentrate on the tip, “don’t be a bitch.”

“Sorry, sorry,” you chuckle but still move your hand quickly, following the steady rhythm of your thighs. Your head rolls back when one of his hands creeps under your shirt and cups your boob, his thumb brushing against your hard, sensitive nipple.

Haechan sucks in a deep breath when your thighs start shaking around his and your cum drips down his thigh. “Fuck,” he moans, eyelids fluttering as he looks at you, head reclined back as you hold onto him with only one hand, the other still busy taking care of him. “This is so hot, you are so hot.”

The compliment pushes you closer to reaching your high and when he lifts your shirt to wrap his lips around your sensitive nipple, you lose it.

You whimper and quiver, hips moving messily as you keep riding your high, breath getting stuck in your throat when he accidentally bites you as his orgasm washes over him unexpectedly.

“Fuck, sorry,” he mumbles, and if you weren’t still so lost in your pleasure you would let him know you liked it.

When your hips still, and the dizzying sensation calms down, you lay your head against his shoulder for a while as his arms wrap around your waist.

“Can we stay in?” Haechan pouts when you try to get away from him, reaching for your hand to keep you next to him before he rolls over when you shake your head and jump off the bed. “Please.”

“We can’t always fuck and study and study and fuck,” you reply, cleaning yourself up, holding in a sigh when you realize he stained the cover of your bed with his cum.

“Who said I want to do either of those things?” He says, looking up at you with puppy eyes, pushing his lower lip out to pity you.

“I know you,” you reply, glaring at him before pulling your pants back on, not even caring about putting on another pair of underwear, you would’ve had to wash all those clothes anyway after taking a well-deserved shower, but for now you only had to pick some clothes to go out with the boys.

“No, let’s stay in and, I don’t know. Should we sing?” He proposes, jumping on his feet and putting his discarded underwear on.

You laugh, staring at him in shock. “You want to sing?”

“Yeah, you have a guitar, right?”

You nod, turning around the corner where your guitar is.

“Don’t you want to hear my angelic voice?”

You take a deep breath at his brag and then exhale loudly. “But Jaemin?”

“Fuck him, I don’t care,” he says while a small victory grin already starts widening on his face. He knows you’re about to give in.

You huff, rubbing your temples and giving up fighting him when his fingers are already typing on the phone to tell his friend you two can’t come anymore.

When he puts the phone away and smiles at you in anticipation, you sigh. You really are stuck with him, aren’t you?

“Why don’t we prepare biscuits?” You suggest. You wanted to bake something for a while now, but you never really find time to dedicate to the kitchen.

“Biscuits?”

You nod, stealing his sweatshirt to wear on top of your shirt before walking to the kitchen —that space you consider the kitchen.

“I’m a mess when it comes to cooking, you know, right?” He confesses as he leans against the countertop, watching you move around to grab all the ingredients and tools you need.

“You? Admitting you’re bad at something? To me?” You ask with a teasing tone, but you’re genuinely surprised he let you know without turning even this into a competition.

He fakes a laugh. “Very funny,” he says. “I just don’t want to hear you complain if I make some mistakes and ruin your perfect biscuits.”

You chuckle. “Can you weigh the ingredients and then put them all in a bowl?”

“All at the same time?”

You nod, handing him what he needs and showing him where the scale is. “Is not that hard, even you can do it. Plus, it will be another thing I teach you today,” you wink.

“Careful, baby. Don’t start thinking you’re so much better than me,” he says, starting to weigh the ingredients and putting them in each separate bowl.

You scoff. “Honey, I won’t start thinking that,” you say, resting your head on his shoulder, “I already think that.” You leave a teasing kiss on his cheek before he hits you with the flour and you gasp.

“Oh, no, we’re not doing that,” you warn, taking a step back, seeing how he’s ready with another handful of it.

“Then take it back,” he says nonchalantly.

“I never take back the truth —oh, Jesus Christ, Donghyuck!”

He laughs loudly, bending forward as he glances at you, flour on your face and well, his sweater. “Don’t call my name like that again, though. I won’t resist this time,” he says when he finally stands up and stands right in front of your face. “Now, will you take it back?”

“Never —Ah!” You scream when he lifts you up without a warning and sits you on the table before he starts tickling you. “No, no, please,” you babble, shaking your head and trying to stop his hands on you but he’s faster. “Okay, fine, I’m not better than you — I’m not better than you!”

“Good,” he says, stopping his torture and smiling proudly. “I love it when you listen,” he jokes, kissing you again.

You should hate it —or at least don’t like it so much— when he kisses you like this, out of nowhere, for no reason at all other than wanting to shut you up, or maybe to feel you. But you truly don’t mind. Actually, you lean in for another one, and another one and another… until you feel this is once again going in another direction and, as much as you’d love to indulge in the moment, you want to prepare those biscuits.

“Enough,” you say, pushing him away and jumping off the table. “No more food waste and we’re doing this together.”

You discover you and Haechan work better in the kitchen than in other fields, maybe because there’s no tension pushing you to do better but you are listening to each other, teaching tricks, and simply having fun. And this atmosphere stays with you even when he grabs the guitar and starts playing the tune of your song, you sing some bits of the lyrics and then jokily propose to add some about baking cookies on a cloudy spring afternoon, expecting him to laugh at it but he just smiles and tells you to go on. And you do, mumbling something about being in the kitchen, humming, baking, and laughing. You think it’s too cliché, and you will surely go back to it obsessively until it comes at you like you want it, but he loves it.

Then the oven rings, signalling the biscuits are ready and none of you can believe they came out good, nothing burned, and they’re tasty. Somehow, those cookies, feel like the biggest achievement you two ever made together.

“Maybe we should stop fighting each other,” he mumbles, after chewing his last bite. “We make a pretty great team.”

You smile, cleaning your lips with a napkin, crumbs falling on the table. “Hate to agree, but we do,” you say. “I mean… we kinda teamed up months ago, don’t you think so?”

“We want to kill each other, and you call that teaming up?”

“It’s our way of teaming up,” you reply, handing him a clean napkin so he can clean himself, and he takes it. “We just like to keep the flame alive, if we stopped bickering at all, it wouldn’t be so funny.”

Haechan shrugs, he guesses so. “Not like anybody else ever stood a chance with us on top.”

You chuckle. “Imagine if someone is using our rivalry to get to the top and we never noticed them.”

“Honey, trust me, I would’ve noticed.”

Once you’re done eating, you push him into the shower. There’s flour, and dough on all your clothes, and you still need to wash off the sex of before. You’d opt to shower separately but you’re tight on water and you have to make the best out of the confined space, reason why his plan to fuck another time fails.

“Why are you wearing my pink robe?” You turn around two seconds to grab the towel you prepared for him, and he betrays you. “This was for you,” you say, holding up the white towel as you stand there naked.

“I already put it on, it’s wet,” he says. “Come on, it’s pretty.”

“Yeah, that’s why is my favourite robe,” you pout, but still wrap the towel around you because you don’t want to freeze.

“I’ll make it up to you,” he says, and, before you can even think how, you don’t feel the ground under your feet anymore. Your arms immediately wrap around his shoulders for more safety as you let him carry you outside. You have no idea what is going on today, but you like this, how he’s taking care of you —in his way, of course— and how this feels good.

“You have to change it anyway,” he says when he drops you on the bed and, as soon as you open your mouth, he knows you’re about to complain about the wet towel on the dry covers. “I’ll help you change it later.”

While you change into your new clothes, your pink pyjamas with small black hearts as a pattern, you watch him walk around as if he’s so familiar with the place —not that it would take much for anyone to know where everything is, considering how small it is— but something about it makes a feeling of comfort and warmth spread in your heart. Nobody else had ever been inside that place.

But then you snap out of it and realize he’s naked, and his clothes are dirty, so you rush to the closet to find something to give him.

“So, mhh,” you say, making the things you grabbed fall in front of him, who’s sitting at the table. “I have those sweatpants and a sweater, or these pyjamas if you want it, it’s pink, but it doesn’t look like you care much,” you note, looking at how much he’s rocking your robe.

“Pink pjs! We’ll match,” he says, eyes lighting up as he wastes no moment getting out of the bathrobe.

“Out of the kitchen!”

“There’s not even a wall?”

“Still, get out,” you say, pushing him with force away from there. “Better.”

He rolls his eyes but still grabs the shirt and pulls it on him, blinking when he sees a pair of clean boxers. “Why do you have these?” He still studies them, thinking he has seen them before.

“Because they’re yours,” you say nonchalantly while fixing your hair in a braid.

“They’re mine? I left them here?”

“I might’ve accidentally dragged them with me once,” you confess, looking at him with a big, awkward smile.

“When?”

“When Jaemin almost pushed the door down and we had to rush to get dressed. I just stuffed everything in my bag and your underwear was next to mine so, ta-da,” you say, stretching your arms and shaking your hands to complete the sound effect.

Haechan sighs, nodding. “Of course, it must have been because of Jaemin, somehow.”

“Well, it turned out useful, just put them on. I don’t want to see your dick more than necessary.”

Haechan scoffs and bites back a comment as he finishes getting dressed. “You have to admit I look really good in pink.”

You look at him up and down while he twirls, and you smile. “You would be my favourite Barbie at the mall if they sold you in boxes.”

“God, you’re so annoying, can’t ever make normal compliments,” he complains. “Come on, help me with the bed. It won’t clean itself.”

Making the bed with him is tiresome. His weird way and theories about making it lead you two to bicker more than you should and remake it twice to see who is right —you, obviously. So, once you’re done with it, laying on it with him by your side, you know not even God himself will make you stand up to cook dinner. You don’t need to say a word, Haechan already has his phone out ready to order, and you couldn’t be happier.

You spend ten minutes deciding what movie to watch and another five bickering because you don’t want to eat on the bed, but he insists you won’t make a mess, and if you do, he will help you clean up. It ends with you giving up and the bell ringing with your order ready.

You never have nights like this. You always try to cook on your own and don’t waste money on eating out, and you also never finish the movie or the series you start, either too tired halfway or with something more important to care about, for example, some notes to copy, or lessons to listen.

But this is nice.

You two joke, laugh, eat, and then you start to feel the sleep take over you, and you don’t think about sending him home or falling asleep on the pillow.

And as you rest your head on his shoulder, Haechan’s more and more sure that his plan failed.

“You’re playing with me, right?” You ask when Haechan messes up for the nth time. The end of the year is approaching, and you two are getting ready for yet another test, the last before the finals, but right now he’s testing your patience not getting a single answer right. You’ve been stuck in his room for hours now.

“I wish I was, my brain is fried,” he huffs, throwing his head back on his chair.

You’re speechless and you shake your head. “It’s super easy, you were better than me in this class, what the fuck is wrong with you?” You snap.

“Hey! Why are you so pissed? Shouldn’t you be happy you’ll beat me even in this?”

“Be serious,” you say, sending him a deadly glare. “What are you thinking about?”

“I’m…” he huffs, shaking his head, and turning around in his chair to avoid you. “I’m just stressed for a lot of things. I’m tired, I didn’t sleep tonight.”

“You struggled even last week. And when the Professor asked you something in class you gave an answer that is just not you,” you say, cutting off his bullshit, grabbing the armrest of the chair, and forcing him to face you with a rough tug on the chair.

“There are too many things to remember,” he says, after frowning at how harsh you have been. “It’s not that I don’t know, it’s that I mess it all up.”

You sigh, rubbing your temples. “Do I have to motivate you?”

He lifts his head, staring at you with a furrow. “What do you mean?”

“Let’s play a game,” you say, sitting better on the chair, and Haechan gulps when doing so your skirt —short skirt, incredibly short skirt— rises. He will never tell you, but the way you show up on your dates is another reason why he can’t concentrate. It’s May, it’s so hot. It’s your excuse, but he would bet you’re also doing it to mess up with him.

“No,” he replies, already fearing your proposal.

“Why not? You didn’t hear it, yet.”

He sighs but signals you to go on with a quick movement of his fingers.

“So, we’ll revisit once again, I’ll try to explain all your doubts. Then, I’ll ask you a question, if you get it right, I’ll take off one piece of clothes, if you get it wrong, you’ll take off one, and vice versa.”

“How studying with you butt-naked would make me learn more things?” He almost screams in a high-pitched voice.

“See!” You say. “You’re already starting with the idea you’ll lose.”

“Because I can’t get anything in my brain, and if I get it right then you’ll have to take something off and all I’ll think about will be… you.” I already only think about you, he’d like to add, but that’s too humiliating. Just like the grin on your face. He hates how weak he is. He hates how easy it is for you to win battle after battle. And he hates even more that his plan is showing flaws with each passing day. He doesn’t want you to be his Waterloo, but he’s not sure he can come up with another strategy soon enough to beat you.

“Fine, then no study-strip-poker,” you give up, but the smug smirk on your face doesn’t drop when you start to think of something else that could motivate him, it only grows bigger when you finally get it. “If you answer right to at least ten of the fifteen questions, I’ll suck your dick.”

Haechan gulps. His eyes immediately fall on your lips as his brain starts to wander on lands he shouldn’t think about, not now at least, not when he has a bigger obstacle to face if he wants to get there.

“Hey,” you call his attention, snapping your fingers and waving them in front of his face. “It has to be motivation, not distraction. Do you want me?”

He huffs, throwing his head back. “Can’t we just fuck and then we’ll start again?” He pouts like he does every time he wants something from you.

“No,” you reply sternly, stealing his sweatshirt from his chair and putting it on you. “You don’t get the prize if you don’t win.”

“That’s not fair. And why are you covering up?”

“So you can’t distract yourself,” you say. You might like to tease him with more revealing clothes, but your intent is never to get him to be this distracted. You don’t want to be the reason he will fail this last test.

“You’re not my distraction,” he scoffs, diverting his gaze, and moving closer to his desk.

You decide to ignore him, you know the truth, and as much as the idea of him starting to lose because he’s too busy thinking of you, sends you on cloud nine, you also don’t want him to do terribly, especially in a class you know he loves and is good at.

“I know the theory,” he says, stopping you from going back to the start. “I wouldn’t be able to produce songs if I didn’t.”

“Yeah, but you just failed to explain how you create and add effects, and you forgot the basic difference between the dry sound and the wet sound, so revisiting some theory won’t hurt.”

Haechan sighs but soon gives up as you hand him your notes. He always thought you were crazy for also having printed pictures of how the software works but now that he needs it, he couldn’t be more grateful that you’re so precise with everything.

You start explaining things once again, cutting short about the most basic notions and diving deeper into the last lessons, as you try to stop as much as you can to make sure he’s still following you. And, after almost an hour, you’re done.

“What are you doing?” He asks when you take off his sweater again. “What about my concentration?”

“I needed your focus while I was explaining, now you have to answer even if you have distractions.”

He huffs loudly, throwing his head back. “But don’t play dirty, you can’t touch yourself or anything like that.”

“I’m not that cruel, I just want you to answer me,” you say. “So, let’s start with an easy one, should we?”

Haechan answers the first questions with ease, not like he usually would, but it’s still better than the mess of before. And he would be so close to getting the last one that keeps him on thin ice, he only got five wrong...

“No, no, no, please,” he begs, trying to stop you in place. “Please, give me one last chance. Ask me just one last question.”

“You got six wrong, babe,” you reply, loving how he’s almost on the verge of tears as his big brown eyes look up at you.

“But it was hard, I will never remember all the types of old reverbs unit,” he whines, coming closer to you.

“Then why do I?”

“Don’t lie, you don’t remember them either, I can’t even pronounce some of those names.”

You chuckle. “Oh, it’s really funny when the lack of a good fuck gets in your brain.” It’s not about sound design anymore. It’s about the desperation behind his eyes; knowing he wants you so much even if you’re the biggest reason for his despair gets your body hot and your pussy wet.

He groans, slumping back on his chair as he gives up on you. Or so he thinks because when he doesn’t pity you enough and you’re still packing your things to leave, he’s back again with his complaint.

“Please, one last chance? I didn’t mess the others up, I just made some tiny mistakes.”

“And you didn’t answer to two,” you say, ignoring him, trying to keep a serious face to not show your true emotions.

“Do I have to get on my knees?”

You snicker. “You look good on your knees,” you taunt but you don’t expect him to do that. “Get up!”

“Not until you give me another chance,” he retorts. “Please.”

You huff, rolling your eyes. “Fine, but just one.”

He nods enthusiastically, almost looking like a puppy being teased with a treat before he sits up in front of you.

“The differences, all the differences, between the shelving equalizer and the peaking equalizer.”

“Okay, I know this one, I know it,” he says before he starts explaining without missing a single detail. “So?” He asks with eyes full of hope as if he doesn’t know he just gave you a perfect answer.

“It was… great,” you tease him but you can’t keep a straight face when you see the pout on his face. “Kidding, kidding, you answered perfectly. So, I guess you deserve your prize.”

“Yes,” he screams, and in a second he throws himself on you but you shake your head and push him back on his chair. “What?”

“You sit there and let me handle this,” you say, placing your hands on his thighs. “Take them off,” you order, tilting your head to point at his grey pants. You see he’s confused about where you want this to go, but he obeys you anyway. “Everything,” you add when he’s still in his boxers. “Good boy, come here,” you say, patting your lap.

Haechan frowns. “You said you were going to suck me off.”

“I know, and have I ever break my promises?”

“I don’t know.”

“Just trust me and come here,” you order, waiting for him to follow. “Can’t believe you’ve been this hard all this time,” you say, wrapping your hand around his hard cock, starting to pump the pre-cum that leaked.

“You teased me,” he huffs, trying to keep his composure as he watches your hand moving on him delicately.

“I know, babe. I’m sorry,” you pout, one hand sneaking under his big white shirt to tease his nipples.

“Don’t,” he mutters, but you only laugh.

“Don’t, what? Let me take care of you, you’re stressed.”

He doesn’t reply, his head falls back as your movements on his dick quicken. He feels so small in your hold and he should find this more embarrassing but he doesn’t care. He loves the way your hand wanders delicately on his body and your lips leave pecks on his neck while the movements on his dick are fast enough to give him what he wants but not too fast to ruin this moment.

Your hands keep moving while your lips kiss his neck and jaw.

“Feels so good,” Donghyuck hums, shifting in your lap.

“I told you,” you chuckle, watching him roll his head back on your shoulder as his eyes close. “The others will hear you,” you say when his whimpers get louder.

“Don’t care,” he moans. “Feels too good.”

You smile and shrug. If he doesn't care, who are you to worry about it? It’s not like they don’t know what happens between you two.

So you quicken your hand, sliding up and down his sensitive dick so fast you make him tremble in your hold.

“You’re so cute like this, you know?” You say. “You look so small and delicate.” You expect him to get mad but instead, he moans and nods swiftly. And you know that stress got him good. Donghyuck, admitting to be vulnerable in your hands? You can only thank the weight the University is putting on his shoulders. But if that’s a way to make it go away, you can’t complain.

“I’m gonna — gonna come,” he whimpers when you start rubbing your thumb on his tip. “Fuck.”

You trap his scream with your other hand, staring at him as he slumps against you as his orgasm washes over him, squirting white strings of cum on your hand and his crumpled shirt.

“Get on the bed,” you urge while lifting the shirt off his body, leaving him naked. He barely has time to put himself together, but you don’t care and you know he needs more too.

“Don’t you think it’s a bit unfair that you’re still all dressed up?” He asks, still sitting on top of you.

“Do you want me to suck your dick, or do you want me to leave?” Is the only thing you have to say to make him obey with no more complaints. “Good. You should be thankful I gave you another chance. Right now you would be masturbating all alone and have no knowledge of sound design, so… what do we say?”

“What do you want me to say? You didn’t—”

“What do we say?” You shut him up, pulling his hair back harshly as your body weights on his lap, eliciting a broken groan.

“Tha — thank you,” he mumbles, cock throbbing right against your thigh. “Thank you but, please, do something, I’m… I need you.”

You snicker, letting go of his head and crawling back on the bed. “You’re so pathetic,” you mock, grabbing his dick again. “Begging on your knees just because you wanted my mouth.”

Haechan groans, throwing his head back but the harsh slap on his thigh makes him snap his eyes open.

“Why?” He squeaks.

“Eyes on me when I’m talking to you,” you order before lowering down so you can tease his tip with your tongue, making him bite back a loud moan.

“Please,” he pleads, and you finally give in. When you take him in your mouth, the broken breath that rolls from his lips makes your pussy clench around nothing.

“Shit,” he moans, fists clenching in the sheets as you suck harder, moving your head up and down in quick movements. He wants to look at you, knowing it will be even harder to not come on the spot, but he’s fighting with so many parts of him, he doesn’t know what to do.

When you pull away to look at him, he whines, hips bucking up in search of physical contact. You snicker, “and then I am the greedy one?”

“You’ve been teasing since you stepped inside the house,” he whines, trying to grab your hand but you don’t let him. “Come on, I’ve been good.”

It’s true, he has been good, but you don’t want him to come yet. “You can’t come, not yet.”

“Fine, just — just don’t tease me. Please,” he cries, begging you with his eyes.

You start taking care of him seriously; bobbing your head up and down while your hand wraps at his base to touch him where you can’t reach. Your movements are quick, but not too messy, since you’re trying to avoid creating a pool of spit and pre-cum all over his lap.

“Your mouth, fuck,” he groans, involuntarily fucking into your throat and uttering a slurred apology. “You’re just so good. God,” he curses, and you catch him rolling his eyes. “Even at — even at this you’re good.”

You snicker to yourself and keep focusing on his dick, heavy on your tongue as you suck with force.

You might be too good, cause it doesn’t take a lot for him to explode in your mouth; a brief warning for you to choose if you want to pull away and then the pleasure runs through his body for the second time.

You barely have time to clean your chin from the cum that dripped down that Haechan pulls you close to him, kissing you intensely while his hands are all over your body. “Want you, please, please fuck me,” he begs against your lips.

You slip out of your panties, quickly grabbing the base of his cock to line it with your soaked entrance because you can’t wait anymore.

“Oh, fuck, you’re so wet,” he hums when you sink, wrapping your hands around his shoulders.

“Want to take merits for this, too?”

“Well, yes,” he retorts. “Shit, don’t move, it’s not fair.”

“Everything is fair between us,” you say, starting to pick up a rhythm that makes him struggle to come up with a snarky reply. “Loss of words?”

He groans, throwing his head back and tightening the hold around your waist. “You can —mmph— you can talk all you want but —ugh— I am the reason why you’re soaked.” Somehow the way you’re bouncing on his dick it’s not enough to wipe away that smug smirk off his face, and you can’t stand it.

“Just shut the fuck up and enjoy this, will you?” You snap before kissing him roughly, cupping his chin with force before nibbling his lower lip, making him hiss. “I like it when you moan, so please, just fucking moan. The only words I want to hear are my name and begs.”

Your “threat” is effective because he doesn’t dare to open his mouth again.

“Good boy,” you praise without ever stopping to kiss him and moving your hips at a quick but regular speed.

You quickly realize that stress has gotten to you, too. You love to pretend it doesn’t affect you, and that you don’t need to let off steam, but you do. You are desperate to feel carefree for a few moments, put all the books and papers behind and have fun. And worst, you need him.

Donghyuck is what makes you feel good. It doesn’t matter if it’s mostly physical, he takes you to another world every time. He makes you feel wanted, he puts you through the test, but he makes everything worth it.

You’re so sure of it as you let your body crush against his, your fleshes meeting in a messed-up tangle of flaws. The kinds of flaws you both grew close enough to show each other.

In a few minutes, waves of pleasure hit you both and your bodies collapse into each other as you keep lazily riding that sensation; muscles on fire, lips meeting in messy kisses, moans panting the room, and your hands looking for each other.

When you lay on the bed side by side, you feel disconnected, and, truly, the only thing you’d like to do is to close your eyes and fall asleep, but your eyes fall on the clock against the wall and remind you why you went to his place.

“Five minutes and then we’re revisiting again,” you say, knowing the only way to get up is to say that thought out loud.

Donghyuck groans, pressing his face against you and mumbling, “can I eat you out if I make no mistakes this time?”

“We’ll see.”

You’re woken up in the middle of the night by the sound of the piano playing from the living room. The other side of the bed is empty, and the sheets are crumpled up, signalling you Haechan got up somewhere during the night.

You two went on a trip the whole weekend. Not like you had a choice when he passed by your place and told you to get in the car without giving you any information. You got mad at him when he told you it wasn’t a one-day thing, but you were too far from town to even think of going back. And even if initially you were angry because your plans for the weekend were different —studying all day for three days— your anger disappeared quickly.

This is the second night out; you spent the entire day wandering around a town you didn’t even know before and got closer to each other. You love the thrill with him, but you soon realize you also love it when there’s peace between you. It’s impossible for you to don’t bicker, but you learned how to balance everything. And the more you get to know him, the more you like him.

“Can’t sleep?” You ask, watching his features being lit up by the faint moonlight and a small lamp at the side of the piano. It’s an old one, almost left abandoned in the living room of the small, cheap house you’re staying in for the night.

Donghyuck shakes his head. “Got a tune I couldn’t get off my mind so… here we are.”

You smile, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear as you sit next to him. You don’t talk, you only watch his fingers move on the notes looking like ballet dancers. You’ve never seen him play the piano before, you weren’t even sure he could. But you’re amazed at how many things he’s talented at, the guitar, the piano, production, singing, dancing —and making your days less grey.

You don’t tell him, you only lean in, resting your head on his shoulder as he keeps playing the sweet melody.

“It’s…” he huffs, stopping for a second. “Doesn’t it sound messy?”

“Not at all,” you reply. “It sounds upbeat. Happy.”

“Out of all the ways you can describe music,” he chuckles, looking at you.

You look up, shrugging. “I’m describing how it’s making me feel.”

“Yeah? And what does it feel like?”

“Play it again,” you say, closing your eyes and letting the tune lull you. “It feels like spring. Like a field full of sunflowers, the ones you see at the side of the highway, passing by so fast before you can even get lost in their beauty.”

Haechan chuckles, holding back the big smile on his face. “It reminds me of those late summer evenings, when the heat dims a bit and the sky is pale pink and purple and blue, and time is frozen.”

“Yeah, when you’re ten and you don’t want summer to end because it means you have to go back to school,” you smile. “When you would stay out all day and come home with the smell of your favourite cake that your mom just baked.”

“Really? Your mom would bake that too?”

You nod. “Chocolate cake, basic and too messy for the heat of summer. But my mom loves me too much to don’t bake it for me, even if it’s 30° outside.”

Haechan chuckles, and his fingers start moving faster, starting the melody of what could be the chorus of the tune.

“In this part, it feels like a wave. I’m picturing running on the beach as the waves crash at your feet and the wind blows against your face.”

“Why are you smiling?” He asks.

You shake your head. “I — I can… it feels oddly romantic, a bit tormented, maybe confused, but in love,” you whisper. He gives you a weird look, and you’re not sure if it’s because you’re not using technical words to describe it or because you’re just weird. But there’s a reason you’re not being technical, you’re saying what it makes you feel, the vivid pictures in your mind. And, somehow, there’s you and him.

You two on the beach, walking on the sand before he starts running, teasing you to follow him. There’s the scent of the sea filling your nostrils and your lungs burning up as you reach him and then fall in his arms and feel your heart explode.

“It’s an unexpected feeling, something that wasn’t supposed to happen and then… changed everything. It’s thrilling. Scary, but satisfying.” You avoid his gaze but hear him hum in agreement, and wonder if he’s thinking the same, if he can feel this tension.

“So, something that sweeps everything like a wave,” he asks, and you nod. “Sunset,” he adds, smiling at you, slowing down the rhythm of his fingers. “I can also see the sunset colouring the scene. The kind that makes you look up and stare in awe like a child.”

“The one we saw yesterday,” you reply shyly. “It made your eyes look even more brown,” you confess, watching his cheeks tint up of rose.

“The kind that leaves you breathless,” he whispers. His fingers are still moving but they’re playing the same notes, he’s too busy staring into your eyes, leaning closer to you.

“And speechless.”

And a bit closer.

“And grateful you’re on earth.”

And closer.

You move back, coughing and lowering your head because you feel on fire. Is he making fun of you? Does he feel this? Why is he so confusing?

“It feels like a road trip with nowhere to go,” you say to fill the silence, and your words make him play again. “The calm while everything outside is falling apart.”

“Like running to your safe place?”

You nod. “It feels like… home.”

He smiles, looking in your direction while his fingers still play that sweet melody. “I always believed home is a person, even people, but not a place.”

You swallow, staring at his lips before your eyes meet his. “I’ve forgotten that feeling quite some time ago,” you whisper, feeling your head spin. You left home and never looked back, eager to chase your dreams, the ones you’ve been fighting hard to achieve since you were a child, but in that marathon to success, you’re starting to realize you lost something.

“You just need to find the right people, and then never let go.” He leans closer to you, hands falling from the piano as he leans in completely to trap your lips in a kiss. His hand cups your face while the other moves to the back of your neck, pulling you closer and moving his thumb in small circles. You feel like your lungs are on fire, and your legs are weak, but your heart never pumped harder than this. And when he slowly pulls away, you’re staring into each other’s eyes.

You know all the words to your song.

It’s true you’ve tried to avoid Donghyuck’s group of friends as much as you can —mostly to preserve your brain from early injuries— but it’s also true that the end of the second academic year is tearing you apart and you need to do something to don’t go insane.

So here you are, it’s Friday night, at their place, and you’re surrounded. Haechan has left you alone for a moment, busy talking with Mark. Jeno is trying to set up the table in the living room, while Renjun runs after him because ‘things are not perfect enough.’ Yangyang —no, he doesn’t live with them, but for some reason, he is always around— is in the kitchen doing only God knows what.

For your luck, you have Jaemin and the girls by your side. Ningning, who apparently has something going on with Mr Loverboy at your side. Yeri, who is there just to bully Haechan, Mark and Yangyang —an old tradition that goes on since high school, and you love her for that. And Minjeong, who’s the nicest and yet smartest person you know, you are relieved she is in creative writing with Jaemin. You met them all before, one of the thousand times Donghyuck dragged you around with him, and the four of you got along right away, quickly becoming friends.

“They’re so loud, I would have a constant headache living here,” Yeri huffs loudly, rolling her eyes and falling backwards in Ningning’s arms.

You raise a brow as a ‘told you’ moment.

“They’re not that bad usually,” Jaemin defends, looking at his friends, now all too interested in something that regards what they are supposed to eat.

“Pfft, please, Jaem,” you say, glaring at him.

“How would you know?” He says. “Oh, no, yes, actually you would, you’re always here.”

“See, so stop defending them,” you say before becoming aware of the three sets of eyes boring holes into you. You turn around meeting your three friends and lift a brow in a questing look.

“Why would you always be here?” Ningning teases, nudging you.

You roll your eyes. “Don’t wander too far with your brains. I’ve got a project with Hyuck.”

“Hyuck? You used to go around calling him by his stage name just a few months ago and now it’s Hyuck?” Yeri points out, smirking smugly.

You throw a pillow at her. “He’s always attached to my hip, of course, we got closer,” you explain, frowning.

“Sure, sure,” she laughs. “Not even the boys call him Hyuck.”

“They do,” you retort.

“Of course you know, you’re always here,” Minjeong giggles and you gasp.

“You traitor!” You say, grabbing her shoulders and shaking her as you both laugh.

“Move your asses over here, motherfuc—” Yangyang screams before Renjun slaps a hand on his face.

“I will kill you all one day,” Renjun says, storming into the kitchen to bring more drinks as you sit down around the table.

“Please leave us out of it,” Yeri screams loud enough so he can hear.

“Sure, you can even help me get it done if you want to,” he says, sitting between Jeno and Yangyang, handing the bottles around.

“I’m in,” the four of you say simultaneously, raising your hands and they all gasp as they glare at you.

“Guess we better sleep with our eyes open tonight,” Yangyang mutters.

“You should always sleep with one eye open,” Yeri threatens, smiling creepily.

You chuckle at their antics, but your attention is caught by Donghyuck who sits by your side. “Would you kill me?”

You smile, caressing his hand on his thigh. “Honey, what are you saying? You would be the first that has to go.”

The smile on his face drops and you laugh, turning to the table to grab something to eat.

“You know,” he whispers, leaning in so only you can hear, “no dick tonight.”

You lower your head, trying to hide the embarrassment, but then lift it up and shake it, fixing your hair behind your ear, and turning to him. “Not like something could’ve happened tonight anyway.”

“Period?”

“People,” you say and he chuckles, opening a can of beer before taking a sip.

“As if that ever stopped you.”

You roll your eyes, stealing the beer from his hand, “as if that ever stopped you.”

He smiles, resting his head on his palm as he looks at you. “You never said no, though.”

You wave him off, returning your attention to the table, but it doesn’t last much, they’re deep in a heated conversation and you’re missing something. “Why are they bickering… again?”

Haechan chuckles, shaking his head, grabbing a spring roll, dipping it in the soy sauce before taking a bite. You roll your eyes because you need to be updated right away but when you look at him munching happily you can’t hold back a smile.

“So,” he says, cleaning his lips after he swallowed, “Jeno wants Renjun for a project, but Renjun has war traumas of the last time they did a shooting together and doesn’t want to.”

You giggle, grabbing a spring roll too, and dipping it in the same small cup of Donghyuck, while you both pay attention to the conversation.

“But you’re perfect for it,” Jeno insists, shaking Renjun from his shoulders, not caring about the pissed-off expression of the older.

“I’m literally not, ask anybody else but me,” Renjun repeats, a deep crease visible on his forehead.

“But you look like an angel,” Jeno pouts, finally stopping his movements and batting his lashes to gain some pity.

“I might look like an angel, but I feel Satan rising in me every time you talk,” he says, making everybody laugh before he glances, and the room goes quiet.

“Come on, how bad can it be?” Minjeong says, and you see her shift closer to Mark, but you don’t say anything.

Renjun groans, throwing his head back. He can’t believe he might be convinced into this by the end of the night. “He’s too much of a perfectionist, and I’m not comfortable in front of the camera. Also, he’s not rich enough to have a studio and he always takes ages to put the light boxes in their place once he’s done.”

“Oh, I won’t annoy you, I promise,” Jeno begs again.

“We can rent a studio,” you say, all eyes on you. “I mean,” you cough, placing the small bite of the roll left on the plate in front of you, “me and Hyu— Donghyuck have to shoot the cover for the songwriting project, I don’t think we can wait any longer since we also have to record the song and then come up with an advertising strategy.”

“Then rent a studio?” Renjun says, coming out colder than he intends to. “No, wait, I just don’t get why you have to drag me in this.”

“Jeno proposed to be our photographer, but I doubt we can do it at home. And since we wouldn’t be paying for his job. Sorry,” you mouth quickly glancing at Jeno who shrugs and smiles at you. “We can at least put the money for the studio.”

“And where do I fit in this,” he cries, shoulders slumping as he knows there’s no way out of this, no matter what you say next.

“Well, since you pay the studio per hour, I don’t think Jeno will torture you much. He takes two hours with you and two hours with us and in a day, we are done. Also, if there are four of us, we can be quicker,” you finish explaining, hearing some hums of agreement from your other friends.

Jeno doesn’t say a word, he’s only smiling widely with his face close to Renjun’s as the latter regrets all the life choices that brought him here. “Fine, I’ll do it,” he exhales, groaning when Jeno hugs him and screams a cheer in his ear. “Step away before I change my mind,” he warns, slapping Jeno’s arm and glaring at him when he does as told.

Yeri sighs deeply at your side, rolling her eyes and muttering, “children.”

You chuckle, finishing your roll, and stealing Donghyuck’s beer again before talking to him. “So, I guess we’re almost done.”

“Almost done? You still didn’t show me the lyrics, have you even written them?”

“Hey,” you scold. “Are you doubting me?”

“I don’t know, last time I checked, you were the one struggling. I offered you four bases, and all the words I’ve read from you ended up crumpled in the bin.”

You sigh. “I’ve got the song,” you reassure him.

“Really?”

“Yeah, and I also picked the production. I mean, I… I wrote it because of that production.”

Haechan’s smirk widens when you start stuttering and looking away, trying to look unsuspicious in your friends’ eyes. “Really? And why are you shying away?”

You almost jump when you feel his hand on your thigh, resting on your bare skin under the skirt. “I’m not,” you whisper, trying to keep cool.

He snickers. “You know I’ll have to see it and you can’t keep it a secret from me, right?”

“I know, I don’t want it to be a secret. You’ll read it.”

He squeezes your thigh, and you glare at him. “Not now.”

“Right, later, under the cover when we’ll watch a movie,” he jokes.

Yeri coughs beside you and you see your entire life pass in front of your eyes, but you fake nonchalance and turn to her. “Need something? Some water?”

“Some tea, honey, some tea,” she says, raising a brow and pointing at the man at your side, now busy talking with Yangyang.

“I can make some.”

“Stop playing me,” she whispers, sending you a deadly glare. She can be scary at times, you’re not surprised the boys listen to her in the blink of an eye.

“He’s just being stupid, he flirts even with walls,” you say.

“Does he touch their thighs?”

“No, he’s not,” you say, only to gasp when she looks down and his hand is still on you. You push it away but he puts it right where it was and you can only sigh.

Yeri snickers. “Ah, l’amour.”

Your head rolls back as you let out an annoyed sigh. “Love my ass.”

Yeri shrugs, sipping from her small bottle of soju. “Don’t care, there’s still something going on, and I’m interested.”

“I’d love to mock you with somebody but you’re more closed than an unopened can of beans.”

“You are so bad with words. How do you write songs?”

“I don’t write about beans, clearly,” you say seriously before you both laugh.

“You two, mind to share what’s funny with the class?” Ningning calls you out.

“Sorry Professor Ning, we’ll be even more annoying next time,” Yeri retorts.

“Why do I feel you’re quoting something we can’t understand?” Renjun says.

“Because you’re right,” Yeri replies.

“Yesterday Yeri almost got us expelled,” Ningning says with a forced smile on her face, making you all gasp.

“What happened to sharing information?” Mark screams, leaning in with interest.

“Why do you care so much?” Yeri shrugs, grabbing a bowl of tteokbokki to eat.

“Mh, hello? You got your asses out of Uni,” Minjeong says.

Yeri only rolls her eyes, resting her head on Ningning. “If a tteokbokki falls on my clothes you’re dead,” the blonde-haired warns before bringing her gaze to all of you. “In her defense, it wasn’t her fault. Not at the start, at least.”

“No,” Yeri retorts, sitting up straight again, and placing the bowl on the table, “it wasn’t my fault, period.”

“Here she goes again,” Ningning sighs, puffing and shaking her head, making you chuckle. But Yeri is not paying her attention, too busy telling the facts right.

“Professor Choi hates us and treats us like kids. Not only his lessons are boring, and I would like to add, useless, but he also thinks we’re in kindergarten.”

“Did you fight with him?” Jeno questions, frowning, already fearing a positive answer.

Yeri gulps, looking around to take time to answer.

“Oh, God, tell me you didn’t,” you say, staring at her with a worried expression.

“He asked for blood,” she says, getting fired up.

“You fought a Professor?” Jaemin gasps loudly.

“She didn’t,” Ningning intervenes when Yeri is about to open her mouth again. “Just because I was there to babysit her, but she didn’t.”

“I didn’t come here to be treated like a child,” she says, crossing her arms on her chest. “We weren’t even being loud. We were sitting in the back of the class, minding our business and he called us out. There was a group of boys in the middle row watching fucking porn and he called us out.”

“Ew,” it comes out collectively.

“But unless the headphones weren’t connected how would he know?” Yangyang asks.

“I don’t care! He hates us,” she groans.

“So you decided to make him hate you even more? Smart move, Yerim, smart move,” Renjun says sarcastically, and she glares at him.

“I just decided to drag her out when things got a bit heated,” Ningning says.

“Not in a Beyonce way I guess,” Haechan jokes, and Yeri slaps him as you move back to give her space to hit him.

“Hey! Why are you helping her bully me?” He asks offended.

“Cause you deserve it?” You shrug.

Donghyuck looks around in disbelief, groaning when everybody agrees. “Fake ass friends, can’t even trust your own shadow in this group.”

“Back to what matters, safe to say you won’t pass the class,” Renjun says.

“We will, there’s only one lesson left, and we’ll pay attention,” Ningning says and Yeri raises her brows. “We will pay attention. He might hate us, but, you know, a bit of boot-licking and we’ll be fine.”

“Fine,” Yeri gives up. “But only because I don’t want to see him ever again.”

“We once fought so hard we got kicked out,” Haechan confesses, bringing the attention to him.

“You and?” Jeno asks.

“Dumbass, Miss Better than him, thought you heard them bicker every two seconds,” Renjun replies instead, pointing at you with his index finger.

“Hey!” You say. “I mean, thank you for acknowledging I’m better than him but it wasn’t so bad.”

“Oh, trust me, it was,” Mark comments before drinking his beer.

“And you were teaching us a lesson, uh?” Yeri teases, eyebrow raised at you two.

“We didn’t insult the Professor,” you explain. “We were just at each other’s throat.”

“Why?” Minjeong asks.

“Honestly? Can’t remember, we fight about everything,” Donghyuck replies.

“We don’t fight,” you clarify. “We discuss. And sometimes things take a bad turn. Not anymore, we learned how to survive with each other.”

“Oh, I’m sure,” giggles Yeri and you kick her knee with yours, making her groan.

Haechan sends you a look you ignore, and you go on explaining. “We were just stating our thoughts, but we weren’t exactly agreeing, and we couldn’t stop, so the Professor told us to take it somewhere else.”

“And you did? You simply could’ve stopped,” Renjun asks in disbelief. He can’t believe he thought you were normal.

“We had business to settle, okay?” You explain.

“Oh, and we sure did,” Haechan chuckles under his breath or so he thinks because the room goes quiet, and you think you want to strangle him.

You have to come up with something.

“You only won because I gave up,” you say, looking into his eyes, seeing the devilish glint behind, warning him to not say a word more.

“You always give up if there’s a prize you can take,” he clicks his tongue and you gulp.

“Oookay, weird tension in the room, it’s clear the only one not getting laid is me,” Yangyang cheers, bringing you two out of your competitive stare. You’d like to complain, saying it’s not what he thinks about, but you’re still stuck, brain busy thinking about something else.

“This night it’s boring, if we don’t do something funny, I’ll act out my plan of killing you all,” Renjun says, standing up.

“I still don’t know whether you’re joking or not,” Mark says.

“Because I’m not.”

“Caught you!”

“Hyuck!” You scream, turning around, holding a hand over your chest as his arms wrap around your waist and his chin rests on your shoulders. “You could’ve killed me.”

“You’re eating cake without me, that’s the crime,” he says, pulling your hand to his face to take a bite.

You roll your eyes. “Jaemin told me he had to store it away because Jeno and Minjeong were eating it all.”

“So, you were hiding, uhm?”

You hum, cutting another piece and diving it in two to give it to him. “He said I could eat it. Also, I think I had too much alcohol and I need to put something in my stomach.” You sit on the countertop and he takes his place between your legs.

“Am I allowed to eat it?”

“I guess so, I’ll take the blame if he says something,” you giggle.

“Don’t think he will notice, too busy dancing with somebody,” he says, hinting at Ningning.

“They look cute together,” you say, smiling fondly.

“Oh, they do. If only he could grow some balls and confess,” he says.

“Do you confess, Casanova?” You tease.

Donghyuck smirks. “How does it look like?”

You shrug. “Don’t know, you tell me.”

He rolls his eyes before he realizes you two are not together. “Wait, are we… no, never mind,” he says, pulling away, and turning to the door.

You grab his hand, stopping him. “What?”

“Jeno called,” he lies, trying to escape your hold.

“No, he didn’t. He’s sitting with Yangyang passing the blunt around,” you jump off the top and face him. “Are we?” You’re not sure what you expect him to say.

Donghyuck gulps, struggling to keep his eyes on you. “Are you fucking somebody else?”

Whatever you were expecting, that wasn’t it. “Are you?”

“I asked you first,” he retorts.

You blink. “Oh, really?

“Yeah, really.”

“Do I look like I know somebody else besides us?”

“Jeno likes you, and he told me you two are texting.”

“As friends, Hyuck. I already told him I’m taken — I’m not, I’m… I’m taken by other things in my mind. Uni, fighting you, especially fighting you.”

Donghyuck snickers, not really what he expected from you, but deep down —not even so deep, truly— what he wanted to hear. “Yeah, I agree, you’re taken, mostly by me.”

You’re about to retort but he slips from your hands too soon, leaving the small kitchen to reach the others. But you’re smiling. It’s a dumb, small smile that lights up your face in the dark of the night, and your heart pumps. You two didn’t name any of this, but —bickering aside— you objectively know you acted like a couple. It’s not about the sex, it’s about everything else. He started to pick you up before lessons so you could go to class together and sit next to each other —while he did everything he could to distract you. You ate at your friends’ table at lunch, went out for dates, and occasionally even slept over. You are taken and probably for longer than you even realise. Donghyuck started filling your days months ago, and even your life.

You’re still caught up in your thoughts that you don’t hear Ningning enter the kitchen.

“I spy with my little eyes something suspicious,” she sings while pouring herself a glass of water, leaning against the countertop where you were before.

“First Yeri, and now you?” You ask, a small smile curling your lips while you walk to lean next to her.

Ningning gasps offended. “She knew before me? Is this how you betray me? After I helped you style your hair?”

You laugh, resting your head on her shoulder, and inhaling deeply; she always smells nice. “I didn’t tell her,” you confess. “Honestly, I don’t even know myself.”

You can’t see her, but you know she’s smiling when her arms wrap around your body.

“So, what is that, love?”

You hum. “I don’t know what it is, but I know I like it.”

“I knew you were a romantic at heart,” she jokes, pulling away to squeeze your cheeks.

“I’m just happy. I don’t think I need to put a name on this… on this happiness.”

A big smile spreads on her face and her eyes crinkle, her hand softly caresses your cheeks. “It’s not only Donghyuck, is it?”

You nod, pressing your lips in a flat line because something about this feels too emotional for you. It’s 11 pm and there’s faint music playing in the living room while people laugh, and joke, sharing a blunt or bottles of alcohol. And you’re in the kitchen talking about a boy you want to kiss and strangle with who, you’re sure, can now consider your best friend. It’s the stupid fun of the early 20s. It’s the sense of something you’ve been missing for too long since you only let yourself be absorbed by your studies, leaving friendship behind.

And when a lonely tear rolls down your eyes, Ningning coos, gently wiping it away. “I’m happy,” you say, nodding.

“I know,” she replies, cupping your face.

“I’ve been on my own since I came here and I never regretted believing in my dreams even if it meant leaving the ones I loved the most behind, but now I realize what I’ve been missing,” you confess. “I love that they’re so loud they give me a headache.” You both chuckle and your hands intertwine. “And I love that we all sit together at lunch even if most of you have to run from the other side of the building. I love how none of you hesitated one moment to consider me part of your group.”

“I’m so happy you’re with us,” she says, smiling. “I guess Donghyuck does something right sometimes.”

You both laugh.

“Yeah, he definitely made my second year less boring than the first one,” you admit.

“Come here, I guess we both could use a hug,” she says, not giving you time to reply before you’re into her arms. You stay like this for a while, and you know more than before that this is what you missed the most. This is what college means. It isn’t in the loud parties, the sex, and the drugs, it’s in the people you do things with. Nine young people like you, trying to survive this craziness by being each other’s strength. You can still look at your goal right in the eye even if you have fun, even if you date, even if you have someone to walk down this road with.

“You know, I knew you were a good one when you slammed your fist on the table at lunch when he made you fuck up the essay,” Ningning confesses when you pull away.

You laugh, wiping away another tear. “I’m glad he did, I wouldn’t be here today if he didn’t.”

“You and Ning disappeared in the kitchen before,” Donghyuck says, searching in his closet to find something to make you wear for the night.

“Yeah, we talked about us. I know I might not show it, but I’m glad I found this,” you sigh. “I like them.”

Donghyuck smiles, sitting next to you. “They all like you just as much.”

“It’s like I finally have a place where I belong. I have people to rely on, so maybe I’ll learn to stop wanting to deal with everything by myself.”

“I told you life doesn’t have to be lonely,” he says. “I know that coming from me sounded like sabotage but I meant it. Having someone by your side makes everything easier.”

You smile and nod, grabbing the shirt he’s handing you. “I hate to say it, but you were right,” you chuckle. He doesn’t reply and you don’t drag the conversation, simply enjoying the thousands of words you two should be telling each other, but are not ready to face, yet.

“Can I use the bathroom? I need to freshen up a bit,” you say, breaking the comfortable silence. Most of the others are crushed in the living room, you think you saw Ningning sneak into Jaemin’s room but you were too caught up in Donghyuck to be sure of that, Renjun and Jeno might still be awake but you’re sure that all the weed they smoked won’t make them pay attention to you.

“Sure, if you need towels they’re in the cabinet under the sink,” he tells you, and soon you’re out of the room.

It doesn’t take you long to clean yourself up; you wash your face and steal someone’s products to get rid of your make-up, quickly get rid of your dress, put on some perfume —you’re pretty sure it’s Donghyuck’s cause you smell like him— and then wear the shirt he borrowed.

Once you’re done, you quickly make your way to the kitchen, and, passing in the living room, you see your assumptions are right; there’s no sight of the two love birds, and the only ones awake are Renjun, Jeno and Yeri, while the others are crushed on the sofa. You expect a remark from the girl, but she barely notices you, too busy playing —trying to— something with the other two.

After a few minutes, you’re back in Donghyuck’s room, and you notice he’s changed into something comfortable, too. He’s lost folding his clothes, and you let yourself get lost in his beauty. Too busy fighting him and trying to prove something, you realize you never noticed the smallest details that make him so handsome. The bridge of his nose, his soft lips, the moles on his cheek, his soft brown hair falling around his face.

“You alright?” His voice brings you out of your daydreams and you nod shyly, feeling embarrassed for being caught staring.

“Yeah, everything fine,” you reply, quickly walking to the bed. You see him staring at you with a confused expression, but avoid any awkward moment by reaching for your phone and pretending to be busy. But you’re not busy, you’re confused. You’re not used to this, any of this. Your nights have always been filled with yourself and books (whether for school or your entertainment), and if you felt wilder a movie, rare were the occasions when you would go out with your friends. And regret is creeping on your back. You feel like you lost a lot, you feel like you’ve punished yourself to get where you are now. And you think about love, how you treated your relationships, how little weight you gave them. And when you think about what you felt in these past months you wonder if you have ever even been in love.

“Remind me to never make you drink again if you get this sulky.” Once again, Donghyuck’s voice brings you back to earth, and when you turn toward that sound, you see he’s sitting next to you.

“I’m not sulky,” you chuckle. “I was just thinking about what I said before.”

He hums. “And?”

You shrug. “Nothing. You can’t change the past, I was just… having some bittersweet emotions.” It’s the truth, but you know that deep down your brain is trying to make you focus on the friendships because you don’t want to think about your biggest problem: the man you have by your side. This wasn’t supposed to be whatever it is. It wasn’t supposed to happen. And you don’t hate that it did, but you don’t know how to feel and act about it, cause you didn’t plan it. You couldn’t study this, you couldn’t put this on a PowerPoint and have it all laid out for you to understand it, it’s not logical, it’s not a theory, a study, a thesis, it’s emotion.

“You seemed happy before,” he whispers after a few minutes of silence passed. His hand gently rests on your stomach and you feel your heart race.

“I was,” you reply. “I am. I just wish I found this sooner, I always focused on my studies and career, and looking back at it now, it was lonely. And…” you sigh, rubbing the bridge of your nose, “I’m jealous of you, ‘cause you managed to be at the top with all of this.”

He chuckles, but it’s a tender sound, and then smiles at you. “Well… I managed until you came around. You…” he coughs, struggling to confess, “you distracted me a bit, so I think you’re better than me at this socializing and rocking your career at the same time thing.”

You laugh. “I distracted you?”

“Just a bit, don’t get too excited,” he warns, falling deeper into the mattress and laying in silence. You have your thoughts tormenting you, but for him, it’s no different. He knows his plan failed. You’ve been filling his thoughts, days and seconds for a few months now. Even when he was studying or recording, somehow, you were always there. At first, for spite, surely, but then, it turned into something else. Hate turned into teasing, teasing turned into lust, and lust turned into something more. He knows he doesn’t just simply want you or need you. He craves you and your company, your study sessions together, your smart talks, your witty words, your annoyed eye-roll when he’s right, and the soft eyes when you listen to him. He craves you and your laugh, the suppressed one during lessons and the loud one when you are alone, or your hidden smirk when he makes you smile even if you don’t want to.

He constantly comes back to you.

“Are you listening or are you avoiding me?” You ask when he doesn’t reply to your question and he shakes his head, mumbling an apology.

“Sorry, I was thinking.”

You chuckle. “It’s alright, it was a bitter question anyway.”

“No come on, ask me again.”

“It was just for fun. I wanted to know if I was the reason why you’ve been doing a bit worst than me lately,” you say. There’s no mockery in your tone, instead it’s light and hides a timid blush as the words roll down your tongue.

Donghyuck’s body shuffles next to yours and only then you realize how intimately close you are, with your legs almost intertwined, his hand still on your stomach and his face resting on your chest. “Well, yes, you were an unexpected presence in my life, so…”

“So…?” You laugh. “Am I so hot I got you horny all the time?” You joke but he doesn’t crack a smile, instead he furrows and stands up to sit on the bed with his arms crossed.

“I’m not that horny,” he murmurs.

Your body mirrors his, and then your hands lift his chin up. “Sorry, I was kidding. I didn’t mean to offend you. I just didn’t think you thought about me that much. I wanted to be on top but not like this.”

“Technically, you’re not on top of everything, but anyway, we just spent a lot of time together, you know? So different studying methods and so on, shocked me a bit.”

You raise a brow, not because you’re so pretentious to think you distracted him that much, but because you think you learned to read him a bit and he’s not being honest at all. “Sure, and you weren’t busy thinking of me after our… dates? Coming home and texting me, and telling me how you should’ve been between my thighs instead?”

He blushes, and you can’t believe your eyes. “It only happened once, and either way I never study at night, my pretty brain can’t handle it.”

You laugh. “Your brain is pretty, now?”

“Yeah, of course, everything about me is pretty.” He shrugs.

“You’re a bit of a liar, you know? First telling me I distracted you and then taking it back, but it’s alright, I think we settled this war. We’re equal now, right?”

“I guess you could say that.”

You huff rolling your eyes. “You’re so competitive, God.” You fall on the mattress again. “But maybe it’s good, we can keep this healthy and competitive.”

He hums, thinking about it and then nods. But you don’t expect him to cage you with his body as he sits on top of you and reduces the distance between you. “Doesn’t sound bad, we could try.”

You smile, trying to act nonchalantly, but it’s hard when he’s so close; hair a mess, face tired but still so fucking handsome, and plump lips so temptingly close to yours.

“I want you,” you whisper, looking straight into his eyes even if they make your knees buckle.

“I want you, too,” he replies before diving in and kissing you.

The last weeks before finals are hectic. You and Donghyuck spend all the time studying together. When you’re not locked in the library you’re either at your or his place, and most of the time you end up sleeping over with the excuse of “spending just a few minutes together without thinking about exams.”

Yet, none of you confess anything. Your relationship lingers in that limbo.

In all that chaos, what takes you more time is the songwriting project. You spend days in the studio to record and mix it. Then when you are done, you move to the studio with Jeno to shoot the concept photos. And it would been enough for the exam, but you and Donghyuck just have to go an extra mile, making an entire booklet with the photos and the lyrics inside, the physical CD with the track, the instrumental, and an acapella version.

Even if the shooting is long and tiring, since you have to style and do each other’s make-up, and the only help is from Renjun, you have a lot of fun.

If at the start you feel a bit insecure with the poses, Donghyuck is the perfect partner to have to feel at ease. And Jeno knows how to do his job, making you feel like a queen after the first awkward shots.

“I love how the photos turned out,” Jeno cheers happily on your way to their place. “The three of you are the perfect models. I will annoy you again to build my portfolio.”

Renjun rolls his eyes as his head slams against the bus window.

You chuckle. “Come on, Jun,” you say, pinching his cheek. “You had fun too, you can’t deny that. Also, you got so many beautiful photos for free, I wouldn’t complain.”

“Free? I’d like to remind you I helped you pay for the rent,” he retorts, sitting straight again. “But yeah, I had fun,” he admits, making Jeno clap happily. “But, I will do this again only if she comes with us.”

Jeno bats his eyes at you and you snicker. “Yes, if I am what he needs to be dragged into the studio, I will come with you.”

“I love you,” Jeno screams, hugging you tight. When you hug him back, you make eye contact with Donghyuck, but he swiftly turns his head. Not quick enough to hide he’s not enjoying this so much; jaw tense, fingers closing in a fist.

You find his jealousy of Jeno quite interesting. Even if it’s true you got very close to him, it’s hilarious how Donghyuck thinks anything would happen between you two when Jeno is clearly taken by someone else; someone too busy plotting his murder to realize his feelings, but that’s another matter.

And Donghyuck shows his jealousy even more when, once at home, you sit around the table to watch Jeno post-produce the photos and create the mock-up for the entire project with your supervision.

His arm wraps around your shoulder as he keeps his leg pressed against yours, and you have to hold back a chuckle. Yes, it’s obvious there’s nothing between you and Jeno, but this makes you feel wanted, and you let him show it.

You know you’ll have to deal with other menaces tomorrow; a hangout is already scheduled in the group chat with the girls after a quick text sent right away by Yeri. You love her, you do, but without that, maybe, just maybe, you wouldn’t have four other pairs of eyes set on you — Jaemin and Yangyang are very curious when they want to.

“Are you listening?” Jeno’s voice brings you out of your thoughts.

You blink twice and then mumble, “what?”

He shakes his head. “Do you like the font?”

“Oh,” you whisper. Your eyes adjust again on the screen that you were mindlessly staring at and focus on the project. “Yeah, I love it.”

“We were thinking of not putting our name on it since it’s more trendy lately,” Donghyuck says.

You nod. “Yeah, I think it’s better like this. I also love the picture, I think it would be more powerful without the name on it but we’re not that famous, yet,” you joke making them laugh.

“That’s why I didn’t make it too big, so the focus would be on you two.”

“Love it, that's perfect,” you praise. “Honestly, seeing it all almost done, I feel guilty for not giving you anything.”

Jeno shrugs. “It’s alright. I’m having fun doing this and can put it in my portfolio anyway. I did much worse and less fun for some courses.”

“We will offer you a dinner,” Donghyuck says. “Somewhere cheap, though.”

After a few hours, everything is almost done. Jeno still wants to double-check everything tomorrow before sending it to be printed but the final results won’t differ much.

“So, I think we should celebrate the project that brought you two so close,” Ningning says, winking at the last words, before raising an empty cup.

You chuckle, trying to escape Donghyuck’s hold, but it’s still firm on you. “It’s just a Uni project, there's nothing to celebrate.”

“Well, mine and Mark’s is not that good,” Yangyang snorts. “I don’t understand why you two always want to do so much extra work but whatever makes you happy.”

“We love the song,” Donghyuck replies. “And we’re proud of it so we might as well fool ourselves it might get more than 30 listens on SoundCloud.”

“For me,” Ningning says, “this is huge. One day you’ll be famous and we will get to say we were here from the start, so we need to treat ourselves and party.”

“Yes, let’s treat ourselves to the cheapest pizza on the block. Oh, how I love being an adult,” Yeri huffs, slumping on the couch. “No, but really, this is something to celebrate.” She then moves closer to you so that only you can hear. “And maybe if we get you drunk enough we’ll get juicy info before tomorrow.”

You roll your eyes and shake your head. “Fine, order these pizzas and let’s celebrate.”

The girls don’t get you drunk enough to spill anything but get themselves drunk enough that Jaemin has to drive them back to their place. Truthfully there’s nothing to say anyway. You and Donghyuck still didn’t talk, you didn’t even have sex lately. Too busy with everything, that was the last of your thoughts. But you did sleep together and basically lived in symbiosis. So?

You should feel happy about this project. Academically it will be another success, and honestly, one of your best works so far. So why do you feel this emptiness in your chest now that you’re sitting on a chair in Donghyuck’s bedroom?

This is the end. Now nothing holds you two together, and you fear that what you built over these months might not be strong enough for you to still hang out with you. You wonder if this meant anything to him. Sure, he likes you, but how much? Sex means nothing, and even if said between the lines, he got you to try out romantic things to make you come up with the song. And he succeeded. You have the song, the lyrics you tried so hard to put down. Fake dates, fake flirts, fake everything, but everything you put down is real. And it’s terrifying.

So absorbed by your torments, you don’t see Donghyuck stare at you, standing in front of you changed into fresh clothes.

“Hey.” His voice makes you flinch in surprise and quickly look up at him. There’s a frown on his face. “What’s with that face?”

You shrug, diverting the eye contact.

“Are you not happy with the result?” Donghyuck asks, grabbing the closest chair so he can sit right in front of you.

“No, I love it. I loved everything so much and that’s why I’m sad.” There are many reasons why, and you’re not a master at dealing with too many emotions at once. Subjects? Books? Essays? Projects? They can fall and pile up on you and you won’t feel the weight of it. But real life? Feelings? Not where you excel.

“Cause you won’t have any excuses to spend time with me and see me?” He teases, chuckling. He’s still the same person you met one year ago but behind his playful voice and acts there’s something tender, at least you like to see it this way.

“Uhm, I hope we will keep seeing each other,” you confess shyly, doing everything in your power to not meet his warm gaze. His hands on his lap are a beautiful view now. “But no…”

His teasing smirk turns apprehensive. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

You shrug. This should be the easy thing to confess. A bit humiliating considering showing some weakness to him still feels like letting your mortal enemy pour salt in your open wounds, but you’re hiding more vulnerable things from him.

“Nothing but… I was so sure I didn’t want to be a singer, and I was more and more sure of working in Pr, and now… I don’t know. I loved writing the song, like I always do, but this time felt different, as if… that’s what I’m supposed to do in my life, you know?” You look up because even if you can’t take a mocking look you have to see his reaction.

He smiles, caressing your cheek. “I think you’re good at it so yeah, you should.”

You’re taken aback by that reply. Deep down you wanted him to shred your dreams cause you feel like all of this is insane, and if you have nobody supporting you maybe you won’t indulge in it. But it’s clear that Donghyuck is not an enemy anymore and has your back now.

“Yeah but… I loved singing and doing it with you. Being in the studio, recording, but even before when we were working on the melody and everything. And working on the concept? We did all that with just one song, can you imagine what working on an album feels like?”

He smiles and nods. “Well, yeah, I fantasized about it a lot, so yes. But why is it a problem? Why can’t you pick this as a career?”

You can see in his eyes that he’s confused. Not by your change of path, but by your sudden insecurity. Deep down you’re shocked by that too. You have changed goals a few times in your academic career but somehow this feels so different.

“Cause it’s rare to make it,” you mutter, nervously playing with your hands. Truth is, the chances of failure are so big, and you’re not sure you could take it. You and your perfectionism and your need to succeed on the first try.

“Can’t say you’re wrong, it’s hell out there, but… you’re good, and beautiful, and I’m sure that with your songwriting skills and your voice, someone will notice you.”

He had tried to make a name for himself longer than you, he knows it. During some vulnerable night conversation where you showed him your songs, he told you how many demos he had sent, and how hard he tried to build something at least on the socials. So you don’t care if his words are driven by sympathy, he could discourage you, but instead, he’s supportive, and that’s all you need.

“And what am I without your production? Will you be my Jack Antonoff?”

Donghyuck laughs. “I’d prefer to be your Aaron Dessner.”

“Yeah, fine. I like that Haechan,” you say, highlighting that name that now sounds foreign.

“I don’t want to hear that name roll from your lips anymore,” he chuckles and you hum laughing.

“Talking about lyrics,” he says after a few seconds, the phrase lingers in the air… “this song was interesting.”

“Interesting? What do you mean? Is it bad?” Your eyes widen and the anxiety that left you jumps at you again.

He shakes his head. “I said interesting, not bad. You should know the difference.”

“It’s not funny, interesting means nothing.”

He chuckles. “Some phrases are interesting… that’s it. They look familiar.”

You feel your body burn up in flames and you have to shift your gaze from him. You should’ve scrapped that, he isn’t dumb. (You believed he was up until two seconds ago, but apparently, he was just waiting for the right moment to trap you.)

“I wonder if something, or someone,” he winks, “inspired you.”

“The sea. When we went there together. The sea inspired me,” you whisper swiftly, nervously biting the inside of your cheek. “That’s why I called it wave.”

Donghyuck laughs. “I’m not talking about the title, and you know it,” he says, resting his hand on your knee. “Flow that I’ve never felt before? Meeting you through distinctive distraction is a miracle?”

“You told me you liked it,” you say, playing innocent.

He rolls his eyes. “I do. I love it, actually. I just wanted to analyse it with you.”

You gulp when his fingers start rubbing on your skin. “We should’ve done it before recording it, don’t you think?”

He clicks his tongue. “Nah, I want to do it now. I think I already know who inspired you.”

“The sea —”

“Drop it,” he retorts sternly, squeezing your knee. “I think our plan worked. Well, unless you found someone else who inspired you to write a love song.”

“It’s barely a love song,” you stutter, body heating up.

“Right, some lyrics felt sexy,” he giggles. “You’re such a master in holding me here and there and going up and up down and down again.”

You try to scoot away, but he blocks you by putting his feet under the leg of the chair. “So what? Also, you’re dirty-minded, that’s not what it means…”

He snickers, rubbing his thumb on your cheek. “Why are you so flustered then?”

“Cause you’re too close to me, I can barely breathe.”

“Mhh… it reminds me of something.”

You roll your head back and mutter a curse under your breath. “Isn’t it what you wanted? To inspire me? I did it. I romanticized everything and we got the song.”

“Romantized everything,” he hums. “In this wave called you that’s pushing in, I fall in love. You are the center of my heart. Feeling new, feel now. The wave that started because of you, babe. Dive into the world called you. Damn, your creativity is so good, you are talented.”

“Are you mocking me?”

“No, I…” he sighs annoyed. “If you wrote it down in a song, why can’t you say it to my face?”

You gulp. “I have nothing to tell you.”

He raises a brow. “So you’re still confused. Should I satisfy you to hear you say it?”

You hide your face in your hands and groan. “Fine,” you snap. “I — I wrote that about you. And I, God, this is humiliating. You heard the song, you sang it. Do you want me to say it out loud? Was that not enough?”

Donghyuck smiles, and, for a moment, you fear he will break into a mocking laugh, but instead, his smile gets bigger. “Yes, I knew it,” he screams.

“Oh… of course it’s funny to you, maybe this is what you wanted all along, make me fall in love and then make fun of me.”

“Fall in love?” He whispers, stopping in his tracks to look at you, and only then you realise you said it loud and clear. And it’s worse than saying it in a song. “You love me seriously? Like it’s not just attraction and maybe liking me?”

You feel like choking up on tears but try not to show it. “So you can laugh at me more?”

“Why would I laugh at you? I just want to know if what you feel is real,” he replies, and somehow he sounds even more annoyed than before.

You hum and nod, no words can leave your mouth.

“Did you really think I would use this against you? Don’t you trust me?”

“I — I… I don’t know, okay? I do, but also, this was… this was all fake, just to write that song and now it’s real. And it was never supposed to be real, and maybe you never wanted me, cause I’m not your type and you hated me and we both wanted this to be over and now I feel like I can barely breathe without you, and I know that in the song I said I would’ve left the decision in your hands but the idea of you not wanting me back makes me sick and I —”

Your words fall into a void as he kisses you with no hesitation. Hands cupping your wet face and holding the back of your neck to keep you close.

“You’re so fucking stupid. So, so smart and yet such an idiot when it comes to feelings,” he chuckles when he pulls away. “You said I was an unexpected thing that completely changed your flow but do you have any idea of what you were to me? You ruined my second year,” he confesses, and your face quickly shifts into a worried expression, but he clears your doubts right away.

“I thought I could beat you, I thought I could have the upper hand and… you messed up my days and nights. I thought you couldn’t fill up so much of my time when I already had so many friends but, fuck, I was wrong. And instead of distracting you, I let you distract me.”

“But I — I didn’t plan it, I didn’t want to —”

His thumb shushes you as his eyes crease in a smile. “You didn’t do anything, I just miscalculated. I didn’t know the amazing person you are, and let jealousy consume me before love took its place without me even noticing.”

You almost gasp. “Love? So, you do love me back?”

He nods. “Strong word, I know. But goddam, you were ten times cheesier in the song.”

You laugh and he does the same.

“But I am hurt, though. I can’t believe you thought I was playing you.”

“What were the chances you were going to fall for me, too? Nobody ever falls for me.”

“Good thing you only needed me to fall for you,” he says, kissing you. “So… did you fall for me at the beach?”

“I was confused back then. I knew I felt something but I didn’t know what it was. I thought it was only attraction, but at the same time, I felt like I needed you, you know?”

“And to think I wasn’t even sure of taking you there,” he giggles.

“Really?”

He nods. “I wanted to study, I already felt like I was falling behind and I thought I could use those three days to catch up, but then you crossed my mind and I forgot about the rest.”

You look down to hide the big smile on your face. No, you’re not happy you almost made him fail his second year in this war, but you love knowing how much he cares about you. The old Donghyuck would’ve never confessed this, he would’ve never shown how weak you make him. But now he’s proudly telling you how you genuinely occupied his thoughts.

“I know I didn’t show signs of failure, but you did succeed in your plan just a bit.”

He snorts. “Don’t need fools gold.”

“No, I’m serious. I mean, maybe you’re right, you didn’t, but I think you succeeded in something better. You showed me I can achieve my academic goals and still live life. You showed me so much. I had fun on my own, and I loved it, but I also only had myself and nobody to count on, and that sucks.”

“I didn’t do it.”

“Yes you did, you pushed me out of my comfort zone and trust me, I did panic sometimes. I just hide it better. But you gave me the chance to meet seven amazing people allowing me in your friend’s group. Some of you have known each other for so long, that’s probably when I should’ve put my heart at ease and realised you truly cared about me.”

“You fail to understand how likeable you are. Everybody loves you, you just don’t pay them attention.”

You shrug. He’s probably right. You never cared about that, but you won’t start caring about it now. You found your people, you found your place.

Staying at his place for the night is tempting, but, truth be told, you two want to be on your own on your first night as lovers. So, with the excuse of wanting to eat an ice cream (not an excuse, you will eat ice cream), you slip out of the place.

The others don’t care. Honestly, it’s clear that everyone except you two was expecting this ending, but you will deal with this tomorrow at lunch with the girls. For now, you chuckle at Jeno’s wink before he rests his head on Renjun’s shoulder again, who barely waves goodbye before going back to the movie they’re watching. Mark seems to be the only one confused at the way your arms are linked when you walk through the living room, but you’re sure that Yangyang, who has a teasing smirk on his face, will fill him in as soon as you’re out of the door. Jaemin will sneak at the girls’ hang-out tomorrow, his face lets it all known.

“I love this place,” Donghyuck says when you enter your apartment.

“Really? This hole?” You chuckle, leaving your bag at the door and getting rid of your shoes.

He nods. “It’s cosy and quiet, and I get to have you all to myself.” Before he finishes the phrases he pulls you in his hold, almost making you lose your balance and you scold him.

“Can you be less clumsy?”

“Mhh... no.”

“Also, it’s not like not being alone ever stopped you from being the clingiest man on earth.”

He huffs, throwing his head back as he slowly starts walking backwards to reach the bed. “As if you don’t like it.”

“You got us many suspicious looks,” you complain.

“Girl, everybody knew about us,” he says, falling on the bed with you. “I fear they were betting on a situationship but well, we didn’t do anything to keep this on the low.”

You shrug. “Whatever,” you say, caressing his face to move the hair on his eyes. “I don’t care. Tonight I just want to think about us.”

“Now you’re talking,” he hums happily. “Can I get a chocolate-less kiss?”

You laugh. “You can get all the kisses you want.”

Your lips connect to his to start a sweet kiss that lasts for a while. You never truly pull away as your hands start moving on each other to get rid of the clothes and leave you half-naked on the bed.

“Wanna taste you,” he murmurs, rolling around so your back is on the mattress before he starts going down. His fingers hook with the band of your panties and pull them down. “A bush?”

You huff. “I was just a bit busy, and didn’t have time to shave.”

“Good. I hope you don’t find time to do it ever again,” he says making you laugh.

“You like it?” You ask.

“I love it,” he replies.

You don’t have time to react because his lips are on you as soon as he's done talking. Your hips buck up and you fail to hold back the moans.

Donghyuck takes his sweet time, licking up stripes to get you wet before he starts sucking on your hardening clit.

Your head rolls back against the pillow and your hands can’t help but tangle in his hair to pull him closer. The groan of pleasure that comes out of his mouth at your gesture makes you tremble.

“So fucking sweet for me,” he mumbles against you. “My sweet girl.”

A dumb grin curls your lips and your eyes try to open to get a glimpse of him. You regret that action cause his pretty face smashed against you as he eats you out as if you're his last meal sends shivers straight to your core.

“Please,” you whimper, making him open his eyes to stare at you. Your throat tightens and you feel like you might pass out from that, but still force yourself to finish the phrase. “Don’t stop, you’re so good. I — I never felt like this.”

He grins, pulling away only to reply. “Yeah? Am I that good?”

You groan. He’s still so competitive and always has to prove a point. But you don’t care. That’s fun. That’s what you love about him. “Yes, you’re that good. Just please, keep doing it.”

“Never planned of stopping.”

When his mouth starts moving on you again you see stars. Your neck falls behind, enjoy the softness of the pillow, and you stop trying to keep it together, moaning loudly and chanting his name.

His hands wrap around your thighs, keeping you close to his mouth. And each flick of his tongue pushes the climax closer, making you see stars.

Your breath gets messier as you hit your peak and pleasure takes over your body as you let go to that blissful sensation running inside you.

You’re still gasping for air when you feel his fingers prodding at your entrance, slowly entering you.

“Hyuck, what are you—?”

“I want you to be ready for me,” he says. “I won't make you come another time, I promise. Just getting you wetter.”

You mumble a sound that makes no sense before you decide to relax and enjoy the sensation. It’s not like you would ever complain about his fingers, you simply don’t want to be too sensitive already. But he’s true to his words, his two fingers fuck into you, curling up right on your sweet spot, turning you on more and coating them white.

“Always so good for me,” he praises when he pulls out, sucking them harshly before he leans in to kiss you. Your hands wrap in his hair as you pull him closer, letting your legs wrap around his waist to pull him down. “Damn, calm down,” he chuckles close to your lips. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“I know, but I want you close.”

Donghyuck smiles. “Unhook your legs for a moment and I’ll be as close as possible.”

Reluctantly, you do as ordered, knowing that as soon as he’ll slip in, your legs will be exactly in the same place.

You barely pay attention when he does, too focused on the gentle kisses he's leaving on the crown of your head, cheeks and neck. Your eyes only open when he bottoms in and brings your legs around himself.

“Happy now?” He asks, brushing behind a few strands of hair that fell on your face.

“More than happy,” you reply smiling. Your body moves on its own when your hips buck up against him, eliciting a deep moan to slip past his lips.

That’s the sign he needs to know he can start moving. One hand places on your waist to keep you in place and the other supports his body as he starts dragging his hips out.

You can feel your heart skip a beat when he leans down and hides in the crook of your neck, inhaling deeply. “You always smell so good, that’s what tricked me to always be close to you,” he mumbles, nibbling your skin.

You chuckle, shaking your head. Even now he has something to say. Still, his words don’t distract him from his actions. With each stroke, he hits deep inside of you, hitting sensitive spots that make your toes curl and your fingers close into fists on the sheets.

After finding the perfect angle, Donghyuck starts speeding up, his thrusts not harsh but fast enough to build up a steady rhythm. And, with each one, you feel a wave of pleasure invading you.

“Come here,” you whisper, cupping his face to pull him close. “Wanna kiss you.” Your lips are on his right away and you both let go to a long passionate kiss as the hold of your legs around his waist tightens. One hand leaves his face to run on his back, feeling his muscles flex.

Your moans get louder with every passing second but they end up muffled in the messy kiss you’re still sharing.

When his hand sneaks between your bodies, so he can touch your clit in quick circular motions, you know you won’t last much longer. Your walls clench hard around him, and more wetness coats him as your hips buck up for more friction. And the last drop comes from his lips, leaving yours to wrap around your sensitive nipples.

“Hyuck,” your voice trembles as you call for him. Pleading eyes looking up at him. You should say something sex-related, maybe praise how good he’s making you feel, or how close you are, but even if those are the thoughts on the tip of your tongue, the words that come out are completely different. “I love you,” you whisper in a hush, feeling the weight disappear from your chest. Saying it clearly is like finally coming to the real realization.

Donghyuck smiles, kissing you repeatedly on the lips. “I love you, too.”

And soon after, you both reach your peak. The pleasure shoots through your bodies like fireworks in the sky.

You stay like that for a few minutes, kissing each other as you wait for your bodies to calm down.

When he slips out of you gently, putting his shirt under your body to avoid a mess, you still have a dumb, but content, smile on your face.

You don’t have the energy to move, so you lay there as you watch him move around to grab new clothes and two glasses of water. Just the time to pull yourself together, and you’re once again under the bedsheets, cuddled up against each other. You relax at the feeling of his fingers rubbing circles on the back of your neck and let his heartbeat be a sweet melody.

Mamma Mia is playing on the TV, but none of you has much energy to sing along to ABBA’s songs —he has a bit more than you as he hums the words.

When he chuckles, you look up at him.

“What’s so funny?” You ask, staring at the tv with a frown on your face. The SOS scene not being exactly one of the funniest one.

“I was thinking about us,” he says.

“I do hope we won’t end up like this.”

“Yeah, no, but you ended up being my Waterloo, I guess,” he whispers, looking at you. And then you get it, remembering when he sang it to you.

“I told you,” you reply, making him gasp offended. “What? You expected me to say something nice? You mocked me, you bragged and I cursed you with eternal love for me.”

Donghyuck laughs and then wraps his arms around you to pull you flatter against him, resting his chin on your head.

“You know this doesn’t mean I’ll stop trying to beat you, right?” He chuckles, but when you lift your gaze, getting a glimpse of him, you see his serious expression. And you hope he's true to his intention and that that spark set by your ambition will never die.

You smile smugly before relaxing against his warm embrace. “Yeah, but we’ll see if I’ll let you.”

YEARS LATER

“Is everything alright? Why are you looking at us like this?” You ask, shifting on your seat on the couch, looking at the girl in front of you.

“Is it true?”

“What?” Donghyuck says.

“Is it true that you two couldn’t stand each other?” She says, big brown eyes staring at you with curiosity.

You quirk a brow, giving your full attention to your daughter. “Why this sudden question?”

“Cause it’s embarrassing to see tweets of people going insane over you two, but also I think it’s unfair how these strangers seem to know more about my parents than me.”

You and Donghyuck laugh. “And what do they say?"

She rolls her eyes. “That they can’t believe you hated each other and that you started dating her to distract her but ended up falling for her?”

You look at each other smirking before a tender, nostalgic smile takes its place.

“Would it be so terrible?” He asks, tilting his head.

She thinks about it for a moment and then replies. “It would be a bit embarrassing for you, Dad. But also... cute. So?”

“I’d say it’s true,” he replies, shrugging.

“Wait, so you really started dating because you hated each other?” She screams, sitting straight on the loveseat, leaning toward you with her body.

You chuckle. “We didn’t hate each other. We believed we could outdo the other. And your father did too much, as always.”

“You were miserable before me,” Donghyuck replies, tightening his hold around your waist. “I had a plan, and it would’ve worked.”

You roll your eyes. “Imagine thinking you could make me fall in love and not fall in love with me,” you say to your daughter. “I was a real heartbreaker back then.”

“You still are,” she replies, smiling. “My friends go insane every time they realize who my parents are.”

Your daughter never brags about being your child. The famous singer, producer, and dancer Haechan, and you, who had a good launch as a singer before you realized that wasn’t your world and decided to stick to be a choreographer and PR manager (well, mostly Donghyuck’s choreographer and his manager). But everyone close to her knows who she is, and it’s not easy to act nonchalantly about it.

She has heard many stories about you two. The gossip about your story running wild since you broke into the industry. But you never sat down and explained it to her, not until now.

“We still have our charm,” Donghyuck laughs.

“I think the most important thing is your love and that you might be the best parents in the world. But I’m saying it officially only if you don’t turn it into a race.”

“Us? Turning something into a competition? We would never,” Donghyuck jokes.

She rolls her eyes, huffing loudly. And you can’t help but smile thinking how similar to your husband she looks right now.

“Honey, forgive us. How do you think we’re still having so much fun after all these years? That’s how we thrive, we learned how to push each other healthily.”

“Yeah, fine, I’m glad your love story is still perfect, but seriously, no competition when it comes to me. I love you both so much.”

“Come here,” you say, patting the space in front of you on the couch. Hugging her when she sits down between you two. “You are the only thing we won’t turn into a competition.”

Donghyuck hums in agreement, wrapping his arm around you two. “We both won with you.”

general taglist: @froggyforhyuck, @wingsss45, @tddyhyck, @technologyculturedneo

fic taglist: @hcluvie, @gusgus0517, @multifandomania, @413cl, @odgsuji,

@hey-hey-heybitch, @nctrawberries, @n0hyuck, @haechoshi,

@girlwholoveslpreppyattire, @viciousdarlings, @hyuckmoon,

@jaeymark, @hqech, @xntlax, @milkyway-vxm, @fullsunahceah,

@beomgyusonlywife, @toroufriteh, @yesohhsehun, @shxnz

@haecastor, @hyucksaint, @sk8ermark, @midnightrained

@maiteeeeesstuff, @smwhrinthehaze, @yoursyuno

#feedback #reblogs

566 notes · View notes