#frenemy at the gates | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

baepsays · 1 month ago

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High School Oblivion ⸻ Gojo Satoru x reader

description ᯓ★ while going through his high school yearbook when helping his mother clean out their storage, Gojo's hands get stuck on a page with a picture of this one particular person. he cannot help but reminisce about the past as now a 30 year old and wonder how things could have turned out if everything went down differently.

cw ᯓ★ fluff, sfw, implicated angst, really mild angst, enemies to friends, one sided love, pining, academic rivals, lowkey bully Gojo, teasing and name calling—nothing really extreme, high school au, frenemies really, usage of fem oriented pronouns, reader is depicted as a fem presenting person, reader is depicted shorter than Gojo, written basically from Gojo's pov, time skips, nosebleed, sorry but use of y/n l/n i know that can be cringy but whatever.

𐙚 Playlist I used while writing this.

Satoru is a good son. In fact, he's kind, diligent, genuine, obedient, and- "Stop trying to slack off and get back to work." Well, his mother might disagree.

"You cannot be asking me to help you and also boss me around mom." Satoru says with a signature pout. Having Gojo Satoru as your son and raising him, doesn't really immunize a person to his pouts. Or maybe his mother is biased because he looks exactly like his father when he's trying to sway her as well and he pulls out what seems to be a Gojo family weapon. But naturally she has her own defenses.

"I'm only making you do this because you left all this behind yourself Sato, why didn't you take some of this or clean it when you moved out?"

"Wow just because I am a grown adult I cannot believe my own mother is treating me like one. Wow, what has the world come to." Satoru exclaimed like the drama queen he is.

"Stop being dramatic and help me properly you know I can't lift up all these boxes you have essentially filled with garbage. Clean out these last 3 boxes piled up in categories of what you need and what to throw out, I'll go check on your father."

It seems his whining doesn't always work on his mother the way it does on his father. Oh well. Though this has been such a nostalgic Sunday, being back in his childhood home, well second one, the neighborhood he grew up in for the better part of his teenage and young adulthood, getting forced into helping out his mother, and the smell of his father's cooking on a weekend. Time might as well revert back.

While cleaning out one of the, what seems never ending, boxes of childhood belongings— Gojo Satoru stumbles upon something he hasn't seen in probably 12 years. His high school yearbook.

It is a natural thing to go into the realm of nostalgia when stumbling upon things like this. Flipping through the pages he really grasps how much he has already forgotten. I mean that is given, it's been 12 years since he graduated. It takes him 12 months to find his lost socks.

Looking through the pictures he realizes how much everything has changed. The length of Suguru's hair has changed, as well as Shoko's. Nanami has gotten more chiseled or tired; he cannot say exactly, Utahime finally has a decent haircut. And look at him! Oh how naive he was, look at those big blue eyes with nothing behind them, covered by those obnoxious pairs of shades. Maybe some things haven't changed, never mind. He's probably never letting go of his obnoxious collection of shades.

As he flips through the pages his fingers get stuck on a particular page. And the memories just come flooding in without any effort.

[BACK IN HIGH SCHOOL, fifteen years ago]

Gojo Satoru saw you for the first time at the school gates on his first day during first year, at a new high school.

He was not very fond of the idea of going to school in a new city, away from the place he grew up in, unfamiliar people, and joining in the middle of the year when everyone has already somewhat settled down, it unnerved him. Unfortunately, throwing a fit about staying in a house his parents already sold and made all the arrangements to move to another place, couldn't help him much.

Some random kid showing up in the middle of the year is just a recipe to be bullied, or at least be prone to such jabs. He had decided prior to his first day, that he would go in with a stone cold face and be brave through this. Or, plan B.

While he was heavily contemplating standing in front of the main gate, the last bell already rang, he was officially late for his first day. Well he arrived a lot earlier, then somehow everyone passed by him and the final bell rang and he just stood there. And he was thinking about making a run for it, that was the plan B, taking a train back to Tokyo, and from there on he will figure it out. His parents will definitely know, find him, maybe this ordeal will finally make them understand how serious he was about not settling in here, even if that came at the cost of being grounded for life.

Satoru almost turned around to walk away from his new high school, his new city— his new home essentially— that is when a breeze of air gushed past him. When he looked forward, past the gates of the school, there was a fluff of hair, in the said school's uniform with a bag in her hands; dangling and teetering to fall on the ground, a key chain bouncing by one of the zippers— cute little orange cat, bouncing on her bag. She was running with all her might to make it, unlike him. That is all he saw of her, but he smelled much more. The lingering smell of her perfume, or soap or just- whatever it may be.

Lemons? Bergamot maybe. Distinctly citrus, not the sour kind, or the room freshener kind— a sweet smell of ripe citrus in the summer sun, kind of citrus. And flowers, peonies to be exact, that was very apparent.

Satoru, to this day, has never smelled that kind of tantalizing fragrance. To this day, he still remembers exactly how he stood there dumb; eyes wide open, mouth agape, and nothing but citrus with peonies haunting his chemoreceptors.

That day he tried to run after you, to put a name and face to the fragrance that in an instant hypnotized him, and to return that orange cat. Unfortunately, the teetering little cat keychain did fall off your bag, and when he ran after you to return it, he couldn't catch up to your haste. And since that day he didn't see you until a whole month passed.

That month he met his lifelong circle of friends, his best of friends. But it wasn't easy for neither of the sides to become acquainted, he was in a broody depressed rage about shifting and had already made up his mind that ‘well everyone must hate me’ — teenagers. Anyway, the first day he sat beside Geto Suguru he barked at Suguru for no reason, poor suguru was just being friendly and kind. So yes that broke into a little kerfuffle, got a lot of scolding from their homeroom teacher, Mr. Yaga. Later Suguru still dragged Satoru with him to eat lunch with his friends.

This is important to the story because, nostalgia and well, Satoru realized you were literally in the class next door, because of Shoko.

One day, when Suguru and him were irritating Kento, with a giggly Haibara, it took him only 2 weeks to drop his ‘you don't understand mom’ & ‘i am above you people’ act.

don't get it wrong, he still thinks he's better than most people, which isn't entirely wrong but god is it annoying. And that is exactly how you felt about Gojo Satoru upon your first impression of him.

On that fateful day you went to look for Shoko, and found her, as usual at the school basketball court with her friends, with an addition of white fluff. You had heard of Gojo Satoru a lot at that point, the girls in your class went to gather out of their class to check him out, from what you heard he picked a fight with Suguru that day. Off the get go you did not think much of him, probably some pretty face with connections and money to spare by getting into unnecessary trouble.

Satoru didn't see you entering the basketball court that day, but he smelled you. In the past month there had been few instances where his nostrils would be randomly engulfed by that citrusy peony smell, and he would halt in his pace to whip his head around to find the source. But alas, by the time he would turn around, you'd be nowhere to be found, and your perfume would slowly fade out.

And here you were, in all your physical tangible glory, for a second Satoru was taken aback seeing you there—somewhere somehow, before your fragrance could reach him, something about you struck him right in his throat. Maybe it was his subconscious, but he halted right where he was, mid match with Kento and Suguru. When was the ball snatched away from him, or when your bergamot and peonies perfume took over his senses; neither could be pinpointed. All he knew was that— it was you.

It was the girl with messed up collars and messy hair. Who smells divine. And the orange cat keychain!— Which has been sitting on his desk for a month. Satoru couldn't care less about Suguru egging him on about making a basket, nor did he see Kento slowly retire to the audience benches with Haibara— he stood there, staring at you, giving back Shoko some notebook; not important. He needed to go up to you. He needed to introduce himself! He couldn't let you slip away now.

So right before you told Shoko you'd be taking your leave, he rushed over there, and haphazardly blurted out— “you smell.”

“Excuse me!?” you looked at him flabbergasted.

“Satoru, why are you trying to pick a fight?” Shoko had to intervene. Because what a horrible way to introduce two of your friends to each other.

“Listen Gojo, I do not know what your problem is, but I'd advise you to keep yourself and your opinions to yourself.” You warned him before storming out of the basketball court with furrowed eyebrows and red ears.

“Damn dude, do you even know her? Why would you even say that?” Suguru was honestly very entertained by this exchange that day, as he was thoroughly entertained by you two's interactions throughout high school.

Satoru didn't mean to start off on such a contemptuous note with you, he didn't really mean it. I mean- he did mean what he said, it's just his phrasing was poor. He has always been reprimanded about this problem by his mother since he was a kid, his father did find it extremely funny. At times, he too found his poor choice of vocabulary funny, unfortunately it wasn't one of those circumstances.

Later he had explained this to Shoko, telling Suguru anything was useless, he was too preoccupied with reenacting his failed attempt at making a good first impression on you. He then only revealed why he has been looking for the girl who smells like bergamot and peonies—which he didn't use as a descriptor of you, that much detail and all of them are on his neck about being a little obsessed creep. He didn't go into any details, he just told them he met you on his first day, at the school gates and you were late, also about how you dropped your keychain. After all that is why he ran after you that day to find you and give it back to you, but unfortunately he got blind sighted by your perfume, right? Well that is what he is willing to tell others and himself. At least he knew your name now.

And surprisingly you also knew him? Did you also see him at the gates that day? Or did you see him in the hallways? Or with Shoko? Or-Why was he so concerned anyway? All he needed was to return the keychain and get over this whole thing, you didn't seem like a very easygoing person. But maybe that had to do with his poor sentence structuring.

Next time Satoru saw you, you were in your class. It was before the morning bell rang, he showed up at the door by the end of your classroom, to seem more inconspicuous. He was looking around to find you in the midst of the flock of girls gathered around him to enquire about his sudden visit, so much for being inconspicuous. Fortunately, he saw you soon enough at the front of the classroom in a seat by the windows — “Y/N!”

and everyone turned to stare at you, ‘great’—wasn't exactly what you were feeling. When you walked up to Satoru, you couldn't help but narrow your eyes at the guy. “Did not think we were on a first name basis.”

“Listen, I think we got off on the wrong foot, i-” Gojo tried to explain.

“I think we got off on exactly the right foot, I mean who just gets all up into someone's face and calls them smelly?” Your voice was already going up quite a bit.

“No, listen, that was a misunderstanding. I mean I did mean what I said, but-” he tried to, horribly, explain himself.

“Seriously, your audacity is immense, not only did you call me smelly, but now you're showing up to my class to pick a fight!?” you definitely lost some cool at that point. Everyone who wasn't already congregated, also gathered around, inside the classroom and outside in the hallway.

“First of all, will you stop cutting me off? I am trying to explain the situation here!” And now Satoru was also losing it.

“Explain? Explain what? Explain how you are above everything and literal incarnation of God or something? Oh did my lowly perfume perhaps irritate your nose hair?” The sarcasm clearly entailed what kind of image you have already built in your head about him. Perhaps it was from all sorts of exaggerated rumours about him. Though you didn't seem like one to fall for such petty rumours, like how he was an undercover actor or prince. But he was sure what kind of a person you thought this guy was—an arrogant asshole.

“Do you even know me?” said Satoru, now starting to become really irritated by your—in his opinion—unnecessary attitude. The last month has been hard enough as is. It took him time to settle down and not let people’s stares or baseless rumors get to him—some of them might have been funny if he was being honest. It was the friends he made in his first week who held him back from getting into more fights than he already did, and had his back against all the whispers.

“Do you know me well enough to shout my first name in front of my entire class!?” Well Satoru didn't have a comeback to that. “Exactly. So why don't you keep yourself and your arrogance out of my sight.” You grimaced.

“Arrogance? Oh please shortcake. You sure have a lot of words to spout with that height of yours.” Now he was just being petty.

“Oh because being a streetlight is so gratifying!”

“At least I don't cut people off mid sentence then talk shit!” and he has completely lost his cool.

“Oh don't put on pretence! Like you are some saint!? For who? The girls who flock you like some shiny stone?”

“Oh don't be salty just because I didn't give you some attention shortcake.” He was trying to get under your skin. He's now losing sight of his actual motive.

“Yes, because I am dying to be acknowledged by your highness, and how my smell is bothering his expensive nose!”

“Listen. That was entirely a misunderstanding, and you're not even trying to hear me out. You are the one picking a fight!”

“Oh I am sorry, I just can't stand pretentious people.” you stab your last quip with a glare, stabbing right through his chest, all while maintaining perfect eye contact.

“You know what. Nevermind shortcake, this was a waste of time.”

“I didn't even ask for your presence in the first place.” Your eyes deadpanned, remained trained on him, bored yet bothered. Both of your faces mere inches away, when did it get there? No idea. He was cranking his head down to glare back into your eyes, losing all motivation to return your keychain. And before he could come up with any further retort, the bell rang. Thankfully.

Word of this interaction spread through the entire school like wildfire.

A few things were instantly established in the passing months since Satoru’s arrival—he was going to be popular, he is good at almost everything, and that he got along with almost everyone; even the people he did not have a good rapport with at the beginning, now he seemingly got along with them perfectly.

But, there was one person who could not stand him. And that person happened to be you. And everyone was aware of this. The students, respective and common friends, the teachers, heck even the principal knew.

Yet in the next 6 months since Satoru joined the school, he found himself crossing paths with you quite often. First he really did just avoid you; he gave up on giving back the keychain, that he did out of pettiness. He really did want to return it, but unless and until you dropped your attitude he was not letting the cat chain go, but he did take good care of it— it sat nicely on his desk, gave it a little bed made out of a soft napkin he got from his mom. Once in a while he would dust it and give it pats, and also speak to it. Yeah, after dinners when he would be studying he would speak to that little guy. He was feeling real friendly with it, which made him feel more bad for it, because at the end of the day it belonged to you.

In the instances where Satoru and you would run into each other; you could be laughing out loud and having a fun time and then, you would see him across the hallway and your face would morph into a scowl. It irked him, in a good way, it made him feel excited that he had such a sway on you. Even if he was convinced it was not that one single—incorrectly interpreted—comment about your perfume, which made you have such a poor opinion of him; there has to have been a deeper reason. From what he has gathered, you are the highest scoring student in the entire year, the teachers have a very good opinion of you, and you are helpful towards your peers— a straight A’s student, and their sophomore student body council secretary, a real model student. Even though you would mostly keep to yourself, you were still pretty well known by others.

Yet when you saw him, you would lose your cool. In fact from what he heard, the biggest takeaway from the fight you two had was that, ‘woah she can be like that?’, because people apparently had never seen you speak over a certain decibel. That stroked his ego. Made him feel sort of special, got him all giddy.

He was yet to realize the gravity of those feelings. The impact of the rush he felt when he smelled your sweet and citrusy fragrance when you passed by him, speeding up to lose sight of him faster. And he would always be left behind, to stand still, taking it all in.

His little teasing remarks, pranks, and fight initiators started soon after the fight you two had that day; started small really. Calling you shortcake constantly, interrupting you when you would go to their class to make some announcement on behalf of the student body. Trying to get better grades than you. Going over to the student body room, using his class president Kento as an excuse, to annoy you. Stealing your spectacles on days you would not put in contacts, trying it on and copying your mannerisms. His personal favorite was to snatch away any books, notebooks, or papers in your hands; to then hold it over his head. The whole thing about you jumping to try and get it out of his hands—which was an impossible task for you—gave him the opportunity to smell your scent much better.

During one of such instances, where he was holding one of the student council papers over his head, prolonging your work, he got a whiff of your shampoo. It smelled like fruits, strawberries and more citrus—it smelled like orange this time. This was fatal. The notes of bergamot and peonies were threatening his sanity as is, and now there were strawberries. He got so trancened by your presence that when his hand lowered involuntarily, you took the chance to grab onto his shoulder, to use him as a support to reach for your papers—he stood there looking into your squinting eyes as you retrieved the papers from his hand, until you walked off muttering curses at him.

And he just stood staring at your back. His eyes lingered on you long enough to see you turn back and throw a glare at him as you made a turn to disappear from his line of sight.

This went on, the teasing and squabbling, the name callings, use of the words shortcake and streetlight became significantly more frequent in your respective lexicons. Satoru loved using his pretty privileges to get the girls in your class to do his bidding, and had them sending you off somewhere without mentioning his name, the naive enchanted girls would abide with no questions asked. And when you would show up, he would throw a fake snake at you, or jumpscare you—though this was a more rare occurrence than his regular teasing, just so you would not get too used to this sort of pranks that it would lose its effect on you.

To him the idea of you was like this puzzling question nagging and straining on his mind, much like your physical self. But you got him excited and riled up. Also a little annoyed at the fact that you do not think of him worthy enough to spare any time. Which is why he came up with these mischievous ideas to elicit reactions out of you.

Nothing was more satisfying than to see you break under his little ventriloquism.

The dynamics took a slight turn when you two became second year students.

On the fateful morning of the day when the results for first year’s finals came out—you found yourself standing dumbfounded, looking at your full name on the bulletin board, in second place.

You came in second.

Which is big! An amazing achievement. But it didn't feel like it. Especially when your name was displayed second to Gojo Satoru. He outdid you, he really did. Getting better grades than you in random tests and what not was one thing, then outranking you and ruining your plan for a perfect streak—was another thing. The horror and embarrassment of standing in front of the huge display of the grades, surrounded by everyone, having your failures announced in broad daylight, hearing everyone whisper about you—had you standing there like a cold unmoving statue.

So when Satoru got around to finally stroll in with ease, way after the results were announced, to come up to stand directly behind you—because as always the first person his eyes wander to find in a crowd is—you. He couldn't figure out why you glared at him differently, there was this underlying somber and a tilting glaze in your eyes. It was as if any moment you were going to break down into tears and his presence was anything but welcomed.

Praise his tongue, because thankfully that day it held itself back. Thankfully his senses caught on to what was happening. Coming in first or second or last did not matter much to him, because what mattered most to him was to simply get under your skin, essentially the very reason why he ended up on the top of the list—but you did not find this funny or amusing. And it wasn't your usual annoyance and dismay of his antics, he really felt like he had done something to actually hurt you.

And which in return hurt him tenfold. Knowingly or unknowingly, Gojo Satoru bled himself a wound that he didn't know how to stitch close.

He didn't know what exactly hurt more, the fact you ran away from there that day after he arrived, without a single word. Or the fact that you've been completely ignoring his existence since that day. It has been really painful for him, because everytime he would get a glimpse of you or a whiff of you—you'd disappear from his sphere, as soon as humanly possible. He made every effort to try to speak to you. The rejoice he felt about being assigned to the same classroom as you this year, was starting to wear off. Especially when you made it explicitly clear through your actions that you had no intention of speaking to him or acknowledging his existence, more than ever. If you were helping out class president Nanami Kento with distributing papers, you would hand over his papers as nonchalantly as possible. In one of such several instances, he gave up on giving you space to get back to your usual self, and grabbed your wrist to explain himself.

“L/n, listen, i am really sorry alright. I don't know how it happened. I swear I did not mean to hurt you like that, I swear! I was just-” he blabbed on without making much sense, whispering as discreetly as possible. Even though the entire school was aware you two were not on even speaking terms anymore. He did not want to put you in a position where everyone made a spectacle out of you.

“I have better things to do, Gojo.” as always you would cut him off, without even sparing him as much as even a glare, then yank your wrist out of his grasp to go on your merry way.

He really did whatever he could, following you around like a kicked puppy, leaving notes on your desk, which was fortunately assigned right before his own desk—he was not sure if it made things a little easier for him, or a hundred times harder. It stung to find those notes crumbled up and sitting on his own desk later. Stung to sit behind you, when you refused to spare a glare or two his way, even some sharp remarks, or curses directed at him. The smell of sweet citrus and peonies did not help. The teachers would call him out more often than not for being distracted in class. Poor guy was really going through it.

The nail in his coffin was, when it had already been three weeks since the new year started. Three weeks and three days of you completely ignoring his pathetic attempts at saying sorry to you. On the fourth day of the fourth week, he found you in the teacher's lounge, speaking to one of your subject teachers;

“Goodness L/n. The year just started and you are already slacking off? Forgetting to submit the student council work on time, then forgetting your class assignments!? Is there something going on? No surprise Gojo surpassed you, do you understand the gravity of that? That careless guy outranked you. And you are making no efforts to rectify that! If things go on like this, next year you might come second from last.” he really crossed a line there.

If it was in Satoru’s capacity, he would’ve probably gone in and punched the man straight square in the jaw. He never really liked him to begin with. It was not about the fact he called Satoru careless, or the fact he always finds the flaws in Satoru—it was entirely about how he treated you. And it was not just in this instance, the guy has always been harsh and judgemental towards you, from what he heard it started since one day you corrected his mistake during class. And he was known to be not tolerant of anyone being better than him, especially students.

Satoru almost broke into the room, when his eyes locked with yours. You stood in front of the guy with your hands tightly gripped by your side, facing the door. Your already glossy eyes started to almost overflow with tears when your gaze fell on him, your body was slightly trembling. How you managed to blink away those tears, is beyond him. In the brief moment where you looked at him and looked away to control your emotions, making an effort to not break down into tears in front of the room full of teachers, the teacher who was scolding you, and your homeroom teacher Mr. Yaga who was giving you pitiful glaces—he knew interrupting will only make things worse for you.

More than anyone, you did not want to cry in front of Satoru. And Satoru was cognizant of that fact better than maybe even yourself.

So, he did the most sensible thing he could in that moment, for once, he simply stood outside with his back to the wall outside of the teacher’s room, and did not dare to look inside. And he just waited while remaining unnoticeable. Waiting for you to come out, he did not care for the looks thrown his way by the students roaming in the hallways, as long as they did not spare a glance towards you and try to snoop. What did he even want to say to you when you came out of there? He had no idea, and he knew he was the last person you would want to see right now, but for him you are the first person he wants to see everyday after he wakes up—so he could not just let you be on your own in this condition. Because he knew better than anyone, you were not one to wear your heart on your sleeves.

Satoru essentially blended in there, to the point you did not even notice him standing there when you left the room in a hurry, and headed the opposite way from your class. Recess was already over, that guy kept you in there for the entire recess period. ‘Goodness did you even eat?’ was something that crossed his mind among various spiteful and angry words he was muttering under his breath directed towards that teacher.

You were never one to miss a class, cutting classes without any valid reason was out of the question. But honestly if you tried to go in the class right now, he would have probably dragged you somewhere else himself. So he did the next best thing—followed you from a distance to wherever you were going. No one is going to care or notice if you two were gone at the same time, right? Well at least he could make up some excuse and take all the blame himself. He was not exactly known for his attendance record anyway, the sole reason why he made sure not to miss school was because you barely ever skipped school.

That is how he found you in the school yard at the back, near the flower patch the students planted, against the big Momiji tree. Where you are found most times during free periods, reading whatever book you may be reading at the moment. This time you were just crying, well it is not that he could see you, but he could tell. You were sitting with your knees to your chest, face buried in your hands, your entire figure was clearly trembling even from afar. Soft sobs jabbed his ears as he got closer and made his chest hurt. He slowly walked up to the tree trying not to scare you.

“Stop lurking like a creep.” You said with your head still down.

“Sorry. Didn't mean to startle you.” He said softly, and went to take a seat beside you, unsure if you were going to run away from him again.

You laid your legs flat on the grass and rested your back against the tree when he made his way over to you. When you looked up at him, eyes bloodshot red, glassy with tears, and more tears running down your cheeks, pooling at your chin— with your lips slightly jutted out and eyebrows bunched up in a frown, he just fell on his knees in front of you. Happerhazadly pulled out his handkerchief, and offered to take it.

“Is this funny to you?” you said with a frown. He knew you were upset but he couldn't help but think, and mindlessly said it out loud—

“Cute.”

“Ah so this is cute to you!? You are finding my misery and embarrassment cute. You seriously-” he cuts you off mid sentence.

“Will you ever actually let me speak!?” He takes a second and continues “Goodness shortcake, I meant you are cute. The tongue you've got on you, could wound thousands of soldiers and that brain of yours could beat Usain Bolt in a race.” He let out a short chuckle as he shook his head slightly and wiped your face with his handkerchief.

He gingerly wiped away the tears falling down your cheeks and chin, and the accumulated tears in the corners of your eyes. With utmost gentle touch he cleaned you up, which was characteristically contradictory.

You looked away from him without any retort. Too occupied with the fact he called you cute, to even notice that little gesture. So you further leaned back onto the tree as if it'll engulf you and make you not sit here with him and confront this heavy air hanging between you two. But also, who is stopping you from getting up and walking away?

Things have always been odd when Gojo Satoru was involved. Somehow after everything, time and time again you found yourself breaking down all your walls to let this guy have a peek at your most authentic self—someone who is envious, easily irritable, not the patient and tolerating soft-spoken girl everyone knows. And it irks you. It claws at your skin that he has been nothing but himself since day one; even before entering the gates of the school, he didn't think of the consequences but just turned his back to it and almost walked away. Yet you were rushing to make it on time, to not have any smear on your perfect record. Even if you were late only because you were up studying until late for the midterms looming over, you could not excuse one slip up.

Why didn't he run the opposite direction of the school but instead chased after you?—you couldn't pinpoint the answer. Everything about him just simply made your head scramble, enough so you didn't even realize you lost your beloved cat keychain until later during lunch. Even when you searched around everywhere, traced back your steps, and looked for it on the route back home; it was nowhere to be found. You cried yourself to sleep that night thinking how you lost the keychain, which had a cat who looked exactly like the cat you once loved and cherished. It was unfortunate enough to have lost him at such a young age, but the key chain helped to have his presence as if guiding you through obstacles.

And without him, things have been a mess. The only explanation you could rationalize was that Gojo Satoru was the one to blame for everything. If he hadn't turned back and ran in after you, you would've been more receptive to your keychain dropping instead of this giant guy running behind you, and wouldn't have lost it. If only he didn't become friends with Shoko and the others you wouldn't have to possibly interact with him. And then he wouldn't know of your existence and try to make it his mission to have your life fall apart.

“I'm sorry.”

What surprising words even for him. There have been very few people in his life he has ever genuinely apologized to. He could count them all on all his fingers, but he never expected to be where he was currently.

“I am sorry for saying that you smell, which I did not mean in the way it came off, I am just really bad with my words. I meant you smell really nice.” His face was completely serious and there was no trace of mockery or jest.

“I just- not to be a creep, I saw you on my first day here. At the school gates.” His eyes softened and his body started to fidget. He almost seemed—nervous?

“I almost ran back to Tokyo that day. I wasn't really, well to put it simply, happy about the whole moving thing. And if you hadn't rushed past me that day, I probably would've gone with my plan.” He throws an easy smile in your direction. “If you hadn't dropped this—” He digs around his pockets and encloses something in his fist.

“Maybe it would have been much harder for me and my parents to start off here. I am almost glad you dropped this little guy that day.” When he opened his fist, in the space between you two, there rested your lost keychain with the cat who reminded you of your dead pet cat.

Upon the sight of your beloved cat (keychain), your mouth opened a little with an audible gasp. Your hand went up timidly to touch it on his palm, actively sending shivers down his spine at the brush of your fingertips. All he could focus his eyes on was your hand, not even daring to look up at your face, afraid of the state of his own face.

He was sure the heat he felt rushing up to his cheeks and ears, must have evidently turned his pale skin into a blushing mess. If only he was not so preoccupied with his own emotions, he would have noticed the first speck of tear forming yet again in the corners of your eyes, before it could even fall down. Which he only felt when he saw the droplets of water that landed on the palm of his hand, effectively making him snap his head back up to look at your weeping face.

If he asked you then why were you crying? You would have probably just cried harder. So you were thankful that he did not ask.

He did not bother to ask any questions but simply took you in his arms, burying your face in his chest, actively soaking his shirt in the shivering winds of spring—letting you cry about nothing and everything, in the arms of the guy who has been the source of your annoyance since the day he arrived.

“You make no sense to me” your sobs became muffled through the fabric of his shirt and sweater vest.

“That is a weird way of thanking someone for returning the keychain which you clearly care a lot about.” he let out a soft giggle, trying to put you at ease. You pulled away from him, much to his dismay, looking only at the keychain he returned in the palm of your hands.

“Well you did take over my rank, and eavesdropped on me getting humiliated.” if it was in his power, he would kiss away that frown and pout.

With that one passing thought, Gojo Satoru had the first epiphany of his life that day. The answer to the inclination he felt towards hogging away all your attention.

“Satoru?” He finally heard from the haze of realization and panic that suddenly hit him. What was he supposed to do now? How was he going to ever face you with these confusing feelings?

“Are you alright?” you seemed genuinely concerned for him. Which melted him. Again, if only he was not so preoccupied with the mess in his head and chest, he would have realized much earlier you just called him by his first name. For the first time ever.

“Did you just call me by my first name?” he asked in genuine awe. While you shied away from him a little, which he found more endearing—this is an entirely biased perspective.

“Also! I really did not mean to outdo you! I swear! I didn't even try that hard, and I was sure you were going to do way better than me. Believe me it was just a fluke.” he blabbered on in a frenzy. “Wow, way to show off Gojo.” you said playfully with an eye roll and half smile, just impressed by the lack of imperious tone in his voice.

“No, I swear! Also i mean you have been looking really exhausted these days, maybe that is why, or else how can i ever beat you? I don't know, maybe because I am new. So they were like—’let’s give him this so he does not go around picking fights again’. Also come on you just called me Satoru what happened! No take backs.” you let out a big laugh at his silly rambling. “Goodness. Alright Satoru.”

And he's all smiles with the sound of his own heart beating in his ears.

“I will be taking back my spot from you. Keep it warm until then.” With those final words you stood up and walked away, the hand you used to give him a final pat on his shoulder—dragged off his shoulder with each step enlarging the distance between you two. The agonizingly lingering heat that it left behind, surely left a mark on his skin. It burnt, or perhaps shocked him—he was unclear which was worse.

One thing was clear as he watched you walk back into the building—he is in deep waters. And unfortunately he doesn't know how to swim.

It is truly beyond current Satoru, how teen Satoru's thought processes worked. Because how do you come to the conclusion that ‘i need to do everything in my power other than confront these feelings eating away at me.’

So after the confrontational and very heartfelt conversation with you, Satoru felt more powerless than ever at the mercy of the feelings you provoked within him. His head would feel light, chest would feel heavy, feet would go numb, and every moment he would get a whiff of your scent he could feel a threatening nosebleed.

Actually once during PE you sat beside him after running, sweaty and out of breath. You had simply leaned over him to grab the water bottle by his side—and his nose started bleeding. Until then he never believed in the whole thing about getting a nosebleed because of being overwhelmed, he genuinely believed one needs to be punched real hard in the face or hit something face first with good impact to get a nosebleed.

And now he stands corrected.

He wasn't sure whether it was the citrus, peonies, or the new found smell of your musk and natural odor which triggered the whole thing. Or maybe it was the worry you showed, scrambling to stop the blood dripping down his nose with your sweat soaked towel, tilting his head back with your hands and shouting for your PE teacher to come and help him—if only you knew all of it helped less and less.

The whole thing made him realize that he needs to get a grip!

And how did he execute that— by confiding in his friends? Making an effort to confess to you? No. He decided that it would be a brilliant idea to accept every confession he got and date as many girls as he could—to forget you, of course.

In his defense, he liked what you two got going right now. He gradually grew really close to you; started with simple conversations and jokes to then a fully established friendship. At least he liked the thought of being your friend.

He liked when you’d lean back in your chair to whisper little jokes to him, how the teacher completely fumbled that sentence. Or when you would give him candies, because you always carried some with you, or when you would come to him first before going to anyone else if you did not understand a lesson.

He particularly liked when you would share a rambling synopsis of the books you were currently reading or recently finished, it did not matter how little he cared about the books itself. Mr. ‘could not stop yapping for the love of god’, went completely silent when he stood before you. He loved when you would bring him your latest creation in the kitchen, because you were trying to learn how to cook and it did not matter to him how salty or half cooked and fully burnt the food would be. It was the effort you put into asking him about his favorites and tried making it. Like the effort he put into not letting you get a clue about how much of a digimon guy he was, because he would rather hear you talk about pokemons to him for hours. Did not matter that he thought digimon was superior.

Satoru might have been a popular guy since he joined; being extremely good looking, witty, academically gifted, part of the basketball team and having friends who were equally well known worked in his favor of being probably the most sought after guy in school. But that never made him a ‘player’, as one would assume. Often he would return the gifts he would get or politely decline confessions. So to everyone's surprise when he accepted the first confession, rumors went around—’maybe he was waiting for her to confess this entire time?’ Well, the rumors steered a different direction when she broke up with him within a week, and the next girl also broke up with him within a similar span of time. And when this pattern repeated for the rest of the year, people started labeling him as a cliche popular guy.

Around his sixteenth relationship, you happened to see him getting slapped real hard by the girl he was going out with at the time. They were talking behind the gardening shed, close to the Momiji tree you loved oh so dearly. All that shouting and cursing she did before slapping him, reached your ears, and as a diligent member of the student’s council you could not ignore it. The slap was echoing. She really left a mark on his cheeks, others have slapped him before for being so apathetic about everything, to get a one last satisfactory reaction out of him. But they have all failed at that. But this girl slapped him harder than anyone else had before her— while calling him a piece of shit for leading her on and wasting her time. So he got broken up with again. And he did not seem even a little bothered by this, his face only started contorting in a panic when his eyes landed on you standing the opposite way from the route his ex took to storm off.

Which ended up making him run away from you, a new occurrence for both of you. And this time you had to be the one to chase after him. You found him in the stairwells, where you silently just sat beside him. This must be what they call deja vu.

“So. long day huh?” you dragged each word awkwardly.

“You don’t have to do this Y/n.” he said without even looking at you, just looking down at his hands intertwined with each other, on his lap.

“Unfortunately for you, I want to. We are friends aren’t we?” you asked him expectantly.

And Satoru only ever wished to be your friend. He liked being friends with you. If you called him your friend the day he went to your class to return that keychain he would have been ecstatic, but right now? Being called your friend felt like yet another hit to his heart. He wants to leap out of the bounds of friendship and hold you, tell you how much he loves you. “Yes we are.” Those three words felt like gravel ripping his own skin.

“Then just hear me out won’t you?” and how can he say no to you looking up at him with those gorgeous eyes, and smiling lips. You can ask him for anything and he would not dare to deny. So naturally he nodded a yes wordlessly.

“You don’t seem like yourself these past few months. I am worried about you— we are all worried.” he stared at you as you took a pause to continue, assessing whether or not he was getting pissed off. “I know how much it sucks to hear that you have changed or something like that. But I do not mean it like that—you have been more distant, and just- well, you seem off.”

“You do know that you can tell me anything right? Is there anything bothering you? Are some kids bullying you? Tell me their names, I will take care of them.” you said with squinted eyes and a raised fist like you were ready to beat up some kids for him. And the sheer idea of that image tickled a laugh out of him.

“Sure you will shortcake.” he said in a fit of laughter. And you have never been more glad to hear him call you by that nickname. It has grown on you, similarly as he has grown on you.

“I am fine, at least now that I am sure about something, I am fine.” he said with a sigh, like something heavy lifted off his shoulders. “You sure right?” you enquired again just for confirmation.

“Yesssss, now stop furrowing your eyebrows, you are bound to get wrinkles before you are even thirty.” he was helpless to the smile that grew on his face, “wow way to thank the person who just cheered you up.”

“Stop trying to copy me shortcake.” he bumped his head slightly on yours, causing you to gasp and bump your forehead to his—some sort of retaliation if you will. Cannot let him get away with the last word, can you? “Don’t bump your big head with mine! What if I catch your dummy disease!?” you said with your forehead still on his forehead. Faces mere inches away from one another.

“Uh huh? And what are you gonna do about it?” Satoru has no idea where this was coming from or where this was going. But having you in such close proximity was definitely messing with his head.

“I will-” you cut yourself off, staring back into his eyes, unable to continue whatever you were trying to say—something about his eyes, the shades of blue, lapis and cerulean, making you incapable of continuing. It is as if there dwelled an ocean in his eyes, and unfortunately you never took your swimming lessons seriously. “What are you going to do, shortcake?”

Well, no one found the answer to that question, as the bell rang and made the both of you flinch away from one another. In a moment of awkwardness about whatever that inexplicable tension was, you both did the most expected thing— laughed it off and headed towards the classroom.

Rest of the year passed with Satoru coming to terms with his feelings for you, hyping himself up to confess to you, and spending time with you. And somehow the both of you ended up getting the exact grades at the end of the year, ending up on the first rank together—something that was bound to happen when you are studying together, giggling in class together, eating together, feeding the cats who took a nap behind the school, together. Even when he was more of a dog guy.

And, Satoru really liked the idea of being together with you.

When senior year rolled around and he was determined to make you his by the time you guys graduated high school. Which is easier said than done.

Especially when he is not making any efforts other than just moving his pupils frantically between your lips and eyes, as you go on and on about the student body president’s new dumb mandate. His mind is probably looking at you with heart eyes, lying on its stomach, kicking its feet. Because it keeps repeating,

‘everyday baby, please say you're mine.’

It is a little embarrassing when he has to hide behind the bookshelves when you turn to look his way, because he would be piercing his longing gaze in the back of your head. Why did he not go up to the seat you were occupying at the library? Strike up an easy conversation; and have you offer him a seat with a smile, or get annoyed at him for talking too much and too loud in the library—he does not have the answer himself. All he knew while peeking at you from between the books in a nearby shelf, that his heart was palpitating like it may burst out of his chest any moment, and have the librarian come scold and shush it.

Walking by the hallways near your favorite Momiji tree, to catch a glimpse of you under it, by skipping on practice was the usual at this point. His teammates and coach have given up. Does not mean he doesn’t have to face consequences for these acts of stupidity. Especially on the off chance you visit one of his matches and he goes full statue in the middle of running up to the basket, then as he gains his composure back, he goes full throttle on his opponents. To show off his shots and dribbles during the match. The team and the coach let it pass sometimes, only because it guarantees that they will win the match. But they always make sure to lecture him about abandoning them to push past the hoard of people congratulating him, to only get to you. With groans of collective clamour going, “just confess already.”

Satoru, to this day, still wishes it was that easy. It is not that he never tried.

First time he tried to confess, you two were simply sitting in class, at your desks. Your chair was turned around, so you could sit facing him. He had stayed behind with you after classes ended, to help you with council work. But the yellow, orange and pink hues of the setting sun on your face, was leaving his usual talkative demeanor to be tongue tied. And when you leaned forward on the desk to snap your fingers in face to hopefully get him out of the trance where he was drowning—in those milliseconds between you moving off your seat, looming over him, and looking straight into his eyes; he almost blurted it all out. If only it was not for Kento to walk into the class and enquire about the progress you made on the work, he would have laid it all out for you.

That was not the only time he was teetering over the edge. One time you dragged him to the garden behind school during PE to feed the cats who take naps around there. He actually blurted out “I am in love.”

Which naturally had you snap your head in his direction, your surprise also had the cat lying in your lap surprised, that it also looked in his direction. So he backpedaled, defending his words by rephrasing them, “No! I mean, I am loving this. As in, like, not having to do PE class!” you laughed it off, joking that his poor choices of words and phrasing will definitely get him in deep trouble one day.

There had been so many instances he just almost verbalized his feelings, almost found that serenity in having you know the reason behind the ache in his chest, and the foggy fuzz clouding his judgment around you. But he only wishes he actually followed through with his emotions. Often he found his emotions to be stuck in a battle between his tongue and brain.

After many such (failed) attempts, he finally decided to just lay it all out after the graduation ceremony. As he could not burden you with his feelings when he spent the entirety of the year dilly dallying so much that the finals and entrance exams were near enough to have students lose sleep.

Sometimes in his dreams, Satoru still dreams about the day of his high school graduation ceremony. He dreams of the very events that took place that day, and different possibilities.

He woke up much earlier than usual that morning. He did not want to be late at any cost. Not because he wanted to be there to hear the principal give the same old speech she gives every year or hear the student body president, Kamo Noritoshi, give out yet another speech, he has had enough of his boring speeches as well. He really just wanted to hear your valedictorian speech.

He was glad he did not earn the highest GPA in his year— no, it was not because he did not want to give some stupid speech, though it was part of the reason. He was beyond happy for you, instead of gloating over his own GPA which made him come in second to you, he was more thrilled over you beating him to the first spot. He was so happy that day he literally hugged you so tight, your inner organs almost spilled out from the looks of it, going as far as to lift you up in the air and making a whole show out of it. Honestly from afar it would be confusing to conclude who exactly did better, though anyone who has lingered their eyes a bit too long on Gojo Satoru knew better, which was practically the entire school, it was not surprising to see him act as such. It was rather surprising he did not tie ranks with you, considering his capacity to ace anything and everything, especially academics. But it was ordinary to see him celebrate your wins much more loudly than everyone combined.

When you asked him the question how he did not get a higher GPA than you, later over celebratory ice cream with your friend groups. He just shrugged it off and simply told you that, “Eh. I just goofed around and had a fun senior year, considering these are the most memorable years of one’s life.” with a smug smile stretched across his face, accompanied by his raised shoulders.

“Sure, it was totally not because you were feeling too lazy.” at this point you were all too familiar with Gojo’s pattern. And unlike in the past, you found it more fun to banter with his silliness than getting angry at his conceit. It was still annoying, but not as annoying as it used to be.

“Tch. Tch. Shortcake, you just do not get the concept of fun as well as you get the concept of natural selection. ”

Despite his claims he knew why he did not surpass you, well not because he granted you that position out of pity or his obvious feelings towards you. He respected you too much to one day have you find out your achievements were not well earned, it would eat him up otherwise. Though the reason still was you, or perhaps it was his pathetic attempts at winning you over and expanding the definition of your relationship with him.

Anyway, currently he was sitting unsteady in the back of his father’s car, stuck in a jam, not giving ear to either of his parents reassuring him from the front that they will get there in time. But unfortunately for the Gojos, their son was not the patient kind.

Which is exactly why they didn't object much other than a few shouts when Satoru ran out of the car, with his gown and graduation hat tucked under his armpits. Thankfully they were not stuck too far from the school, but Satoru was unfortunately late for his own graduation ceremony. When he ran inside the auditorium, the hall full of parents, students, teachers, and peers alike, were staring him down— maybe for rudely interrupting the principal's speech, or for looking drop dead gorgeous while sweating buckets; it was unclear.

He silently walked up to where his class was standing and took his place in the empty space left behind for him. The principal resumed with a cough, continuing whatever faux inspirational speech she may have been talking about. His eyes roamed around frantically to land on yours, staring back at him, scrunching and raising your eyebrows in a comical way. While pointing at your watch, silently reprimanding him for his tardiness, all Satoru could do was smile and shrug like a helpless kicked puppy. But as if that has ever worked on you, so you rolled your eyes at him with the shake of your head and mouthed at him to focus on the speech.

After that very boring speech, and handing out the certificates, followed by another boring speech by Kamo Noritoshi, it was finally time for your speech.

When you stood waiting in the left wing of the stage for your cue, he could clearly see you nervously playing with your hands. Fortunately his intense stares had you looking in his direction, so he waved his hand a little to get your focus, and just wished you a silent ‘goodluck, you got this!’ through exaggerated mouth movements.

Was it cute? Or weird? Either way, it made you smile and ease up, and that's all that matters to him. He was probably the one cheering the loudest for you among everyone in there, your parents or friends or anyone, couldn't have dared to match his voice echoing through walls, to the point the teachers had to shut him up by the very end of your speech. Because he kept clapping or whistling really loud in between every pause.

“At the end of the day, these years we've spent here will always stick with us. For better or for worse, and all I want, is to thank those people who made it bearable through all of it. And I hope you all have a future filled with achievements, celebrated alongside those people around you, who make it bearable. Thank you very much.”

Satoru did not cheer the loudest this time around, his silence was drowned out by the loud cheers or the flying caps around him. He was too busy standing there, a hostage to your teary eyes, and a smiling face coming down the stage.

After a few very busy hours of hugs and pictures with family and friends, and some supportive words as well as teasing lectures from the teachers; Satoru went off to find you surrounded by few people.

“Hey!” he came behind you and spoke in a breathy whisper in your right ear.

“Ah! Satoru! Oh my goodness I've been looking for you!” You slapped his arm lightly as he tried to say,

“Listen, I-” “I need to speak to you. Come with me. Sorry, will you excuse us?” You dragged him by his left hand, tangled with your own right hand. It is not that he has never held hands, he's done plenty more than that, but your hands meant more. And he hopes you heard his heart beating through his hands, as you held onto it and dragged him to a random empty hallway.

“I suppose this works, I was gonna drag you away myself.” He lets out a little chuckle as he settles opposite you, facing you, “I wanted to-”

“I am moving away.”

“What?”

“I am moving out of the country. I, um, applied to this university abroad and they accepted me. It was not confirmed until last week, I've told almost everyone but.” You take a pause and stare down at his blank face, rid off the little shy smile and blush adorning him just a second ago, before continuing, “But, I just did not- I mean, I could not just figure out how I was going to tell you.”

Satoru lets out a dry chuckle. “What's so hard about that? Come on shortcake. It's just me.”

“I, I know. I mean-” this time he interjects.

“Are you happy?”

You blink twice and answer, “More than I thought I would be.”

‘Then that's enough for me.’ Is what Satoru meant to say then, instead he said something different.

“I am really happy for you Y/n. Will miss you shortcake.” He cracks a genuine smile, despite the storm waiting to unleash in his chest through the waterworks of his eyes, regardless he was still happy in your happiness.

When you leaped into his arms with a tight grip on his back, mumbling a choked up “I'll actually miss you more dummy.”

“Nope can’t let you have this one too.” with a chuckle he patted your head as you cried in his arms for the second time since you have known him, once was one too many times for you but here you are. Perhaps this was the last time, he thought.

“Also, I want you to have this.” you handed him a keychain, similar to yours, but instead of an orange little cat, there was a white cat attached to it. “When I saw it, it reminded me of you.” You placed the little guy on his palm, and he closed his fist around it with every intention of cherishing it for eternity.

“I’ll see you soon right?” You asked him, as you looked up at him with tear stains on your cheek, matching the stain on his shirt, and he just nodded with a tight grip around the keychain. Maybe he was too scared to verbally give you any promises, otherwise he would start breaking down much harder than you. But one thing he was sure about,

“You'll do great shortcake, you always have.”

‘As I will always love you.’

On days as such, filled with nostalgia. Or on nights spent staring at his ceiling, wide awake, clock ticking closer and closer to the next day— he thinks of you. He thinks about the different possibilities and the most regrettable moments of his life, and thinks, what if?

What if he had chosen a different line of work instead of taking over for his father? What if he went to that pop up shop before they sold out of their limited edition creps? Or what if he chose to go to that school reunion five years ago with Suguru and everyone else. Would he have met you?

What if he had told you he loved you that day? What if he did not wallow in his own self pity and made a better effort at reaching out to you when you suddenly stopped contacting him during second year of University? What if he swallowed down the resentment over your silence and flew across the globe to you? Would not have been the first time he did that. It was the automated voice telling him that the number he dialed does not exist anymore, and the complete refusal from mutual friends to let him know about your whereabouts—that irked him. What did he do so wrong for you to even remove the little pleasure he enjoyed from having you at the very least as a friend.

Maybe if he asked you selfishly to not move away altogether, things would have been different. But how could he, when he never had any concrete dreams of his own other than pursuing in his father's footsteps, to now take over for him. The way your eyes always shined bright with aspirations, and the amount of hard work you put into achieving them, made him try for himself.

Then how could he have been selfish with the one person whom he selflessly gave away his heart to?

“Sato! Come eat! Finish that later!” his mother shouted from inside, breaking the trance of reminiscence. “Yesss mom!” he shouted back to let her know.

And when he set to go inside, he felt something heavy on his legs. While cleaning the boxes, Satoru had gone to sit on the edge of the patio, with his legs hanging from his edge. The height was long enough to have him lose his sight about where his legs were below the knees to his feet comfortably touching the ground.

When he crouched down to look at what was weighing him down, he found a white fluffy cat; clearly well taken care of, lying comfortably, belly up, on top of both of his feet. Set of blue hued pupils peeking out of his blinking eyes. And a smug smile of contentment on his face, either satisfied with his nap or from annoying Satoru. As cute of a look alike this cat may have been to the one on the keychain you gave him—which he still uses everyday to hold all his important keyes—Satoru could tell that this cat was one big menace.

“Meowwww” the feline wailed, when Satoru moved his feet off the ground to take a proper look at the creature. The cat in search of his confiscated comfort, crawled up his legs, up to his lap and made himself comfortable.

Satoru leans back to rest his weight on both of his palms, placed on either side of his torso. He lets out a dry huff “Huh. aren’t you one spoiled little guy?”

“Meow.” the cat quips as if agreeing with Satoru, his eyes were closed, trying to get back his lost sleep.

“And what is your name?” Satoru asked the cat and felt foolish that very next instance. Instead of waiting for the cat’s response—because that will obviously not answer his question—he goes to check the yellow collar adorned on the cat’s neck to check for a nametag.

“ICHIGO!” a loud familiar voice cried behind the hedges that protected the view into his parent’s front yard.

Upon hearing the call, the cat’s ears sprung up and went back, going alert. In a blink of an eye the cat ran off of his lap, out of their main gate— in what seemed like mere seconds. And his parent’s house is pretty huge, the patio to the front gate takes well over thirty seconds to get to when you are in a hurry.

So Satoru ran behind the cat, well after it was gone from his sight, worrying it might run into something or hurt himself. But just as he stepped out of the gate, he saw the cat cuddled up in a person’s arms, who was crouched down in relief, obstructing the view to their face. Though the shade of the hair is much familiar to him just as the voice, but the length now shorter than how he remembers it to be. But that same citrus and peony scent remained, infiltrating his olfactory sense before his eyes could fathom the figure in front of him. Or maybe he did not want to believe the reality of the situation to begin with.

“Never do that again! Do you know how scared I was? Why would you run after a butterfly like that!? I am never letting you off your leash again!” You held the cat out, away from your embrace, finally standing straight. Dangling him in the air by his arms, like some sort of punishment.

“Meowww” the cat whined in a pitiful tone, moving his claws in a way as if asking to be held closer again.

“No Ichi. No amount of whining is getting you out of this mister!” while reprimanding the cat, you forgot to acknowledge the person standing upfront.

“Y/n?”

You look up to see who called you out in the middle of scolding your cat. To only see another ball of familiar white fluffy hair, and cerulean eyes, the ones you’ve once loathed with your entire being, and dreamed of countless nights. Standing a few inches taller than what his previously already behemoth height during teen years used to be.

“Satoru?”

Both of you stood there confused and mesmerized by one another’s presence, to have run into each other under such coincidental circumstances, how fateful. With a more confused Ichigo looking back and forth between you two, now standing on his own four legs on the ground. Probably trying to solve the mystery of the heavy silence and air hanging between you two. From the looks of the mirrored shock, and open mouthed gasps that left your respective mouths—seems like this unanticipated meeting was long overdue.

The beauty of fate truly lies in such oblivious encounters. And those who sneak into your life just as unexpectedly, as they fade out wordlessly.

FIND OUT MORE ABOUT HS!SATORU

TO FIND MORE OF MY WORKS CLICK HERE.

tag list: @madamechrissy @cuntphoric @moonlitwitchdaisy @rriwyu @naomigojo @aishi-toru @cuntyji @arcanarix @fuwagojo @lover-lyn @buckysm @wwwritererm @indiewritesxoxo @fushitoru @gojosoups @arcanarix @moonchhu @shouiow @user25384959574 @dxmnsaera @emyyy007 @ineedbetterhobbies0809 @littlemisswitch67

a/n: the above used images are from Pinterest, the Gojo one is from the s2 ending and the other two images, i could not find any exact sources so if you know where they are from please kindly let me know. the dividers are by— @/aquazero, @/kodaswrld @/cafekitsune & @/oldgifs4coding, respectively.

thank you to the pookies for beta reading this <3 really my longest work yet. yes it is a bit cliche but oh well. took a lottt of time to finish, first it was finals, then mental and physical health was at all time low, then literally burnt my hand. the part of the valedictorian speech the reader gave, was part of my own speech i gave at my graduation as the head girl, so if you found it shit i better not hear about it.

named her cat Ichigo, because well he calls her shortcake, and ichigo means strawberry. so strawberry and shortcake :3c

happy to have him out ^^ i hope you had fun reading this!! i have a few drabbles and such related to this i plan on releasing. still not sure if i plan to expand their ending :3c ahhh this was not going to be an open ending, but here we areeee

anywayyyy hope your enjoyed your stay ^^ make sure to share your thoughts in the ask box and comments.

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seospicybin · 2 years ago

Text

VIEWFINDER.

PART II

Seungmin x reader x Lee Know. (s,a)

Chapters: Part I

Synopsis: An accidental reunion sets the sparks fly between you and Seungmin, but the relationship takes a turn at the end of the summer and you seek help from your frenemy, Minho. (20,2k words)

Author's note: Contains angst and 2min fighting for you. Enjoy!

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Summer break has ended and the first time you're dreading it. You are usually excited to go back. You always come with new goals and study plans, starting all over with a refreshed spirit after the long break.

Rina is strangely quiet about you not coming home for days until one day before the summer break ends. When you came home yesterday, she only looked at you for a moment then eyeing the food you brought.

Food is the best option to solve problems and cure heartbreak. She seems to have moved on though or she's covering it well with her usual bright smile and glossy lips.

"Can't wait to go back to university life," she says with sheer sarcasm, throwing her bag onto the sofa.

"Yeah," you half-heartedly respond while pouring coffee into her favorite mug.

"That's weird," she says, folding her legs on the sofa and taking her mug of coffee from you, "You usually would give a speech about how excited I should be."

You dryly laugh and sit on the armrest of the sofa. It feels awkward being with her after living with Seungmin for weeks, you have to keep reminding yourself to be careful around her.

"So... how are you?" You ask, followed by a sip of coffee.

"Feeling like shit actually," she bluntly answers.

So she hasn't fully recovered yet from the break-up, and you feel bad for your absence at such dire times.

"I'm sorry for not being here," you sincerely apologize.

She waves you off and swallows her coffee, "You're spending time with someone and you seem happy so who am I to stop you?"

That puts some weight off your chest and you feel at ease after hearing that.

"Although, I'm disappointed that you haven't introduced him to me yet," she says, narrowing her eyes at you.

You close your eyes as guilt paints over your face, "Promise, I'll make time and introduce him to you."

"Okay, good!" Rina simply responds and starts checking her phone as it rapidly dings with new notifications.

You check the time and it's time to go, you have to ride a bicycle to campus so time management is crucial for you.

"I have class at 8," you announce as you put your coffee mug into the sink and quickly grab your bag from your bedroom, "Bye, Rina!"

You're riding your bicycle while enjoying the warm sunlight when another bicycle almost crashes at you, forcing you to brake and almost sending you to crash.

"It's too early for this, Minho!" You groan in complaint.

"I'm surprised you didn't dress like a biker chick with a leather jacket and spiked boots," he jokingly says, taking a jab at you.

"I'm surprised that you didn't ride a motorcycle yourself."

Minho likes to think that he's that intimidating, well, he could be at times but you're never scared of him. You give him the side eyes and notice that he changes his hair color into soft brown which softens his sharp facial features.

You laugh and click your tongue at him, "I'm not aware that robot gets jealous. They must have updated your software while I was away."

"Me? Jealous?" He innocently asks.

"Buy a motorcycle and grow up, Minho!" You say while paddling towards the gate of the campus, leaving him behind you to not let him drag your spirit down when you need it the most.

Summer hasn't completely left yet and you want to soak as much sun as you can before the weather turns colder but you hope you stay warm inside no matter the season.

The time isn't right.

When you have time, Seungmin is busy working and when he has time, you're busy studying. This is why you hate being away from him, your heart aches and is heavy with longing for him. The only way to solve it is by making time. You dash out of the room the second the last class ends and bicycle your way back to the apartment to the point that your legs burning.

Thank God, Rina isn't home yet or she'll ask you a ton of questions before letting you walk out of the door. Remembering how much Seungmin likes seeing you in a dress, you borrow one from Rina's closet and call a taxi to get you to his apartment.

Since Seungmin sometimes uses his apartment as a workplace, he keeps the door unlocked at all times and you push the door with your shoulder while carrying the food you bought on the way with the plan of having dinner with him.

There is no one inside and it's not like you have any other options, you put the bags of food on the kitchen island and grab yourself a glass of water. As you're about to pour yourself another glass of water, the door swings open and Seungmin comes through the door, his hair is disheveled and you guess it's from wearing a helmet.

"Hi," you quickly greet him but keep a space to not creep him out.

"Hey," he says, looking slightly taken aback and you're sure it's because you came without telling him.

"I'm sorry I came without telling you," you say because it's always safe to apologize first.

"I just—"

Now that he has acknowledged your presence and you're not creeping him up for coming unannounced, you walk up to him and kiss him. A kiss that slowly revives you and brings you back to life, God knows you needed it so badly. You gasp when you let go of the kiss, "I just miss you so much."

Seeing his face and not kissing him is impossible, you allow yourself to kiss him again, a little longer than the first one.

"Okay, I'm— I brought us food and we can have dinner together. It's you..." your word trails off as someone appears behind him, a girl with a model body and beautiful long, blonde hair.

"Oh, you have a guest!" You wildly assume, trying to fill in the awkward silence that passes between the three of you.

Seungmin turns to look at her and says, "Can you wait in the studio?"

"Sure," she answers, carrying her purse with her in the direction of the studio with a big sliding door that separates it from his private space.

He then looks at you and says, "Come with me!"

Science says that whenever you get a bad feeling, it's actually anxiety, and as much as you hate to admit it, it could be both.

You and Seungmin sit on the end of the bed, he's softly smiling at you as he fixes your hair. That usually works to soothe you but not now. Your hands are balled into fists on your lap and you just want to vomit all of your thoughts out.

"You're working tonight?"

"She's working with you?"

"It's okay if you are, I'll just go and—"

Oh God! It's happening, you're rambling. It's the anxiety-talking, not you. The only thing that stops you is your body turns against you and makes you choke on air midsentence.

"That is Yoora," he answers, "We worked together a few times and we've been hanging all afternoon."

It's the way he casually shares all that information with such ease that gets your nails digging into the inside of your hands.

"Hanging out, huh?" You almost lose your breath at the end of the sentence.

Seungmin places his hand on yours and calmly speaks, "Before I speak further, can you please keep your mind open? Can you do that for me?"

You nod as you feel your windpipe is closing in and making it harder for you to breathe.

"I like you very, very much," he begins.

"But I'm not used to conventional things. Social obligations and forced conversations. Saying no to all the things I want to say yes to," he shakes his head in despise of those things.

Your mind is scrambled to even try to stick with one thought or any thought for that matter.

"And that includes dating."

No matter what he's trying to say, it seems like the only conclusion you make in your head is that he wants to stop dating you.

"Do you want to break up with me?" You croak.

"No, no," he quickly denies.

Seungmin quietly inhales air and licks his lips before speaking, "I want to keep dating you but I want our relationship to be an open one."

You can't force your brain to work with the lack of oxygen and anxiety taking over, "What do you mean?"

"We're dating each other but at the same time, we're free to see someone else," he explains.

Yes, you do know what an open relationship is but what you're questioning is how calm he is about this. This is how far you let your mind open yet you still have a hard time processing it.

"Look, I'll understand if you don't want to do this but I want to give this a shot. We have the—"

You hold your hand up to stop him talking and take your hands from under him, "Give me a minute!"

Turning your head the other way and look out the window to see your reflection against the dark of the night sky yet you still can't make sense of everything. You look at him and force yourself to smile, "I need time to think."

"Okay," he says with a nod.

You get up from the bed and wipe your clammy hands on the hem of your dress which reminds you of how you made the time to come here only to receive a shocking revelation. Seungmin is trailing behind you as you take your jacket and purse from the sofa. You walk in the direction of the door and see that the blonde girl is unpacking the food you brought.

"Can I eat this?" She asks, not sure if she's asking you or Seungmin.

You glance at Seungmin and then at her, "Yes, you can have it. Please, don't let it go to waste," you say with an edge to your voice.

After what he asked of you, you can't bring yourself to look at him and not feel bitter about it. Maybe it's your fault for thinking you're that special to him.

Seungmin blocks you from getting to the door, "Hey, I hope you know that I meant it when I said I like you," he says.

Well, that only makes you guess how many times he has said that or more importantly, how many girls. He puts his hand under your chin and forces you to look at him.

"You're not like the other girls I know. We were married once," Seungmin tries to be playful but it falls short on your end.

You put on a weak smile for him as you stare into his eyes, hoping he can see how devastated he makes you feel right now.

"Can I kiss you?"

You wonder if his kisses would either heal or break you apart so you nod.

Seungmin caresses your cheek and tells you the answer with a soft kiss on your lips. You look down the second your lips parted and tell yourself that maybe you shouldn't have been curious. That's just you, blessed with inquisitiveness. You read books because you want to know and the more you know the less afraid you would be when faced with a strange situation like this.

However, for the first time in your life, you don't want to know the answer to this.

The plan is to stop thinking about Seungmin.

However, the more you try to distract yourself from it, the more you think of him. He's not only invading your head, he's overriding your life altogether. You're hardly studying, you can't sleep, you lost your appetite, you come home only to wallow more in your room. It's been like that for a week.

Also a week without Seungmin calling or texting you, it's like the whole summer has gone away with the season.

When the professor announces that there'll be a quiz today, you're not confident you'll get a good score. Somehow, you let your discouraging thoughts manifest into reality. As you stare at the score written in red ink, you can't even be mad about it. It seems like you're going to keep spiraling down from here.

"Am I dreaming or I saw you got a C minus?" Minho says, peeking at your graded paper from behind you.

You crumple it in your hand and angrily shove it into your bag, not answering him. You're stomping your way out of the class to get away from everyone, and can't wait to go home to be by yourself again.

Your hand is rummaging inside your bag, looking for the key to the chain lock and almost having a breakdown for couldn't find it quick enough to avoid Minho.

"Congratulations Minho, you're smarter than me," you quickly say to him because that seems to be what he seeks from you, a validation that he finally gets ahead of you.

You put your bag into the basket with a loud thud and bend down to unlock the bike from the rack in silence.

"Drinks then? It's on me," Minho offers, standing with one hand on the handlebar of his bike.

"No, thanks," you answer without thinking then.

Minho shifts his weight to one side and slings his backpack on one shoulder, "Hey, are you okay?"

"How am I doing has nothing to do with the reason why I don't want to drink with you. I just don't have time for your self-centered, snobby remarks," you tell him, a little too harsh to be honest.

This is why you need to get away from people, you don't want to lash out at them. The words are out of your mouth, the damage has been done and all you need to do is leave.

You back your bicycle out of the rack but Minho quickly grabs you by the elbow, stopping you before another cycler crashes into you.

"HEY! YOU'RE SUPPOSED TO WALK YOUR BIKE OUT BEFORE RIDING IT!" Minho scolds him even though he keeps riding away, unbothered.

He turns to look at you and asks again with his hand on your shoulder, "Are you really okay?"

You don't know why he chooses right now to be nice to you, you shrug his hand away from you and leave his question unanswered.

The heat that usually clung to the air has been replaced with a cool one, you're riding your bike with your eyes staying on the road and your mind wandering away from your body. It's muscle memory that helps you to keep paddling your way home without you having to order your brain to do it so and your reflex is still working when you make a quick turn to avoid two people carrying a big box across the street and in the process, you lost your balance and fall to the side, then onto the sidewalk.

You don't feel anything even after you arrive home and only notice a bruise on your ribcage when you change your clothes.

"Oh, God! That's a nasty bruise," Rina comments as she barges into the room without knocking like usual.

"I fell on my bike," you inform before she gets the wrong idea.

She takes a look at it and touches the skin, making you yelp in pain, "You should put ice on it," she says.

Rina wraps a few ice cubes in a thin towel, then sits next to you on the couch, slowly putting it on your bruised ribcage.

You hiss in pain while taking over the homemade ice pack from her, gently pressing on it, "Thank you!"

"Do not ride your bike for a while," she suggests, looking at you with worry.

You nod because there's no use fighting a losing fight.

Rina picks up her book and instead of reading it, she puts it on her lap. It seems like she has something else to say to you.

"Just say it..." you meekly allow her despite how blunt she can be.

She takes a breath and lets it out until both of her shoulders slumped, "Are you okay?"

"Why does everyone keep asking me that?" You sigh and rest your head back.

Rina puts her book away and turns on the couch to face, "Because you've been acting not like yourself lately. You're always in your room, you're barely talking to me and you don't even care that there's an expired carton of milk in the fridge right now," she lists out all of the things that are way out of your pattern of behavior.

"You always care about everything and now... it's just like you've given up, completely," she sadly adds.

She inhales air and asks again with concerns filling her light brown eyes, "What happened?"

You're not ready to talk about Seungmin to Rina. Not only that you haven't introduced him yet to her but that also means, she will not get the whole picture of what truly happened between you and Seungmin.

"Is it because of the guy you're seeing?" She asks like she's seeing through your head.

Rina is quick-witted so it's no surprise that she knows right away that the source of this change of attitude is an external one. She scoots closer and puts her hand on your knee, "Did you guys break up?"

It's time for you to take a deep breath and carefully answer her, "No, it's... complicated."

"Oh, no," Rina reacts by closing her eyes and letting out a dramatic sigh, "Complicated means it's even worse than breaking up."

Hates it when she's always right but Rina has more experience in dating and romance which automatically makes her smarter than you.

"So what is it? Does he have a problem getting it up? Weird kinks? Oh!" She suddenly gasps in surprise with both hands covering her mouth. She suddenly lowers her voice to say, "Are you pregnant?"

You groan in disgust and quickly deny, "No, it's not that."

Rina takes another guess at it and wipes her hands down her thighs, “Well if it has nothing to do with the sexual stuff then… commitment issue?”

Can’t tell if Rina is good at guessing or if all men have the same basic problem? But it’s taking you aback how spots on her guess is that you don’t know how to respond to it.

She raises her eyebrows at you knowing that she guessed it correctly, “Oh, it’s so classic,” she says with a smirk.

“It’s not exactly that but it’s around the commitment area,” you correct her.

Rina’s forehead wrinkled into a question. As she opens her mouth to say something, the doorbell rings. You both look at each other, trying to guess who’s behind that door because none of you ordering food or expecting a guest.

“I’ll get it,” Rina volunteers and walks to the door to open it.

You wait on the couch in anticipation, you don’t want to get your hopes up, but at the same time, your hopes are already flying higher than your expectation. You hear Rina chatting by the door before walking back inside.

“An attractive young man is looking for you,” Rina announces with a sly smile.

There’s someone behind her and as she walks closer, she steps aside to reveal the person walking behind her.

It’s him, the bruise that reminds you of your heartache, Seungmin.

After introducing him to Rina like she wanted, you take Seungmin to your bedroom to avoid Rina eavesdropping on your conversation and close the door behind you. You pull the chair from your study desk to slowly sit on it while Seungmin sits on the edge of the bed facing you. It wasn’t what you expected him to see when he walked in on you sitting on the couch, wounded.

“What happened?” He asks.

It’s not good to second-guess his intention but ever since that night, you keep wondering about the way he treated you. Was he being genuine? Was he faking it just to keep you wrapped around his little finger?

“Fell off my bike. It’s not a big deal,” you keep your answer short.

Seungmin seems to have expected this attitude coming from you and you believe it’s because he knows he deserves it. He sheepishly smiles and nods.

“At least, let me treat it for you,” he says.

You hug yourself to not let him see it, it’s already enough for him to see you’re hurting, “No, I’m alright now.”

He reaches for your hand and turns it to show you the scrape you have on the heel of your palm, “Let me take care of it for you.”

His hand is warm like the last time you hold it but you remember you shouldn’t have let him in and try to retract your hand from his, but his grip is strong. He takes the first-aid kit Rina brought to your room earlier.

Seungmin carefully dabs ointment on the scrape and then blows on it to soothe the pain. You hate to admit it but you long to share a moment like this with him and he’s so tender, so caring, he makes you feel like you’re the only one in the world. He’s still like a dream to you.

Once he safely covers your wound with a bandage, he holds your hand in his with his thumb softly rubbing on the back of your hand. He leans forward and looks at you, his eyes reminding you of summer days, bright and warm.

“I miss you,” his voice is as soft as the breeze slipping through the window.

You’re close to breaking but you put on a strong face, staring him right in the eyes, and say, “It doesn’t seem like that to me.”

Seungmin holds your gaze like you’re holding the galaxy in your eyes and trying to find out what’s lurking beyond the vast darkness. He takes your other hand and holds it on your lap as if it would help him find what he’s looking for.

“You didn’t call, you didn’t text,” your voice breaks at the end of the sentence and you can’t hold yourself together again.

“I can’t help but think that you don’t want me anymore.”

And right now, as he stares into your eyes, he’s seeing you wounded from the inside too.

“I just thought you need the space and time to think,” he tells you.

You break into tears and fall apart in front of him, there’s no use in hiding your pain anymore. You melt the moment he holds his arms out for you and into his welcoming embrace where it’s safe and comfortable, a haven.

“I miss you so much,” you admit and your heart shrinks in your chest.

Seungmin pulls you by the hands to let you sit on his lap and not waste time wrapping his arms around you so tightly, forgetting about the bruise you have.

“Ouch,” you shriek in pain and hurriedly put his hand away from where your bruise is.

“How about we lay down, mmh?” he suggests.

Oh, how you miss his scent! He smells of sunshine, leather, and fabric softener, he’s of everything that makes you think of the summer when he took you on trips on his motorcycle. Your eyes are closed as you drink in his scent while he lightly runs his fingertips down your arm.

Seungmin gently kisses your arm and looks at you, “Are you still awake?”

“Mmh,” you answer with your eyes closed.

Endearingly, he puts the strands of hair covering your face and puts it to the side, “I don’t know if you believe this kind of thing but I think fate brought us back together again.”

You open your eyes and his eyes are the first thing you see, “You think so?”

“I waited years to meet you again and I feel there’s something here,” he speaks while brushing away the hair covering your face.

Hearing him being honest and open makes you realize that you owe him for not listening to what he had to say that night. This time, you want to give him the chance to explain himself.

“It’s the first time in my life that I feel this deeply for someone and it’s you,” he says as he puts your hair to the side and holds it there.

"I want to do it right with you and that's why I chose to be honest with you," he adds.

You hold his gaze as he speaks his heart out against the quiet of your room and your hand intertwined with his in the space between your bodies.

“But I understand if you don’t want to give this a shot. I just want to let you know that… I really like you, I do.”

Maybe it is possible to be in a relationship as long as you mainly focus on his true feelings for you and that's the only truth you need.

Who knows that with time Seungmin will realize that you're the only one he needs?

"I like you," you say back to him.

Seungmin brings your hand close to his mouth to kiss you and you use the chance to softly brush his lips with your knuckle.

It's not going to be easy but all you need to do is be more understanding and open-minded, you believe you can do those things for the sake of this relationship, for the sake of you and him.

"And I think we should give it a chance," you give your final answer to him.

A smile rises on his beautiful face and he leans in to kiss you, a soft kiss that pieces you back together and makes you whole. A kiss that once broke your heart but now revives it back to life. A kiss that has found its magic back.

"Thank you," he murmurs and he leans in again to place a long peck on your lips.

Seungmin lends his arm for you to use as a pillow and you're more than happy to comply, snuggling close into his body and leaving no gap between your bodies.

He repeatedly runs his hair through your hair and then softly asks, "Sleepy?"

You hum your answer while tightening your arm around him while he angles your head to place a soft, lingering kiss on your lips.

"Goodnight," he says right after he pulls away from the kiss.

How are you going to sleep with the butterflies fluttering in your stomach?

It's painful to put clothes on with the darkening bruise on your ribcage.

You're doing your usual morning routine, shower, breakfast, and skipping reading the news to focus on making your coffee. You're nervous about it since Seungmin takes his coffee seriously. It's not going to be as good as his but you try your best to at least make good coffee. You get startles startled when he appears with his eyes still sleepy and fluffy bedhead.

"You didn't wake me up," he says, trudging his way to you.

"You sleep so well. I feel bad if I have to wake you up," you answer.

He stops to stand next to you and sleepily smiles, "Morning!"

"Morning!" You say back with a smile, "Coffee?"

"Yes, please!" He sweetly answers.

You're reaching up for the cabinet to get mugs and yelp in pain, forgetting about the bruised ribcage.

"I'll get it for you," Seungmin offers, getting the mugs easily without having to stand on his tiptoes like you always do.

"Thank you," you carefully fill the two mugs with hot, steaming coffee.

You look at him as he takes a small sip, anticipating his reaction to your coffee, "Is it good?"

He takes another sip before answering, "It's fine."

You let out a quiet sigh of relief and can finally sip your coffee.

"Does it still hurt?" He asks, leaning the side of his body against the kitchen island.

"Only when I lift my arms," you reply.

Seungmin doesn't hesitate to lift your blouse to take a look at your bruise, observing it without touching it because he knows it'll be painful for you.

"Put ice on it regularly," he suggests, slowly letting go of your blouse.

"Okay," you reply.

"Don't ride your bike for now," he adds.

"Yes," you respond with a smile.

Seungmin takes another sip with his hand lingers on your hips, "I'll take you to campus today."

"No, it's okay, you don't have to," you kindly refuse, holding your coffee mug with both hands while looking up at him.

"I'm not asking," he says with his eyes staring at you.

You can't help seeing his hair tousled and not try to brush it for him, you put your coffee away so you can fix his hair.

"I'll finish the coffee and use your bathroom," he says, closing his eyes as you brush his hair to the back with your fingers.

"Clean towel on the top of the rack," you inform.

"Then I'll take you to campus," he continues.

"Okay," you put your hands away to let him go.

Seungmin opens his eyes and finds yours immediately, "Maybe after I give you kisses too," he says while putting down his coffee mug.

You are not prepared when he presses his lips on yours. The first kiss is a long peck on your lips and after that, he repeatedly pecks on your lips, making you giggle. In your peripheral vision, the door of Rina's bedroom is open and she's just standing there watching Seungmin kissing you in the kitchen. She eventually interrupts by clearing her throat.

"Good morning!" She cheerily says.

Seungmin reluctantly stops kissing you but keeps his hand on your waist, "Morning!"

"Coffee!" You quickly grab a new mug for him and Seungmin is kind enough to get it for you.

"Excuse me, I have to use the bathroom," Seungmin says, leaving you and Rina alone in the kitchen.

Rina is staring at you with a wicked grin on her face as you're pouring her a cup of coffee, making you feel uneasy. She waits until the sound of the shower is turned on to start drilling you with questions.

"So, that's the summer guy?"

"Yes."

"He's the one with the commitment issue?"

"Ah... yes," you awkwardly answer.

"I see that the issue has been solved," she says with her glossy lips curling into a sly smile.

You stall by sipping your coffee, "uhm... yes."

"I bet it was with one hot makeup sex," she wildly guesses.

You almost choked on your coffee hearing that because that isn't what happened. Last night, the two of you did solve the issue together then fell asleep right afterwards.

"No," you strongly deny.

Runa bursts into laughter, "Oh, my God! Chill! I'm just glad you stopped looking depressed and unmotivated," she says.

She lifts her coffee mug close to her mouth and adds, "Also glad that I don't have to hire a contract killer to hunt down the person who broke your heart."

You laugh at her words and refill her mug with more coffee to show your gratitude. Rina may seem bold and flippant, but you know that she actually cares deeply for you.

Seungmin holds out his hand to help you hop onto the back of the motorcycle. The campus is not that far so he rides slowly, holding your hand that is resting on his waist to shove it into the pocket of his leather jacket.

Suddenly, you don't want this ride to end, you want to ditch everything and just go wherever he takes you even if it's to the end of the world. You reluctantly get off the bike when he pulls up at the gate of the campus, slowly taking off your helmet to stall the time.

He also takes his helmet off, ignoring how disheveled his hair looks but that only makes him more attractive and you hate that everyone else can see him.

"Have a great day!" he wishes with a bright smile that softens his facial features, making him look like a puppy.

You hand him the helmet and wish the same for him, "You too. Have a great day!"

He reaches for your waist and pulls you close, smiling as he presses a soft kiss on your lips. At that moment, you don't care where you are or if anybody is watching. He holds the side of your face after letting go of the kiss, "I'll call you later, mmh?"

"Okay," you answer with a shy smile.

Taking you by surprise, he kisses you again and triumphantly smiles when he pulls away, "I'm going."

"Be careful!"

He puts his helmet on and you frown because that means there'll be no more surprise kisses. He turns the engine on and rides with the wind that brings him back to you.

The promise you made to yourself is that you'll keep your mind open and be more understanding.

There's not much changing except that he calls you once in a while or sends you a text when he's in the middle of work. You appreciate the effort and that he's keeping you in his thoughts. Seungmin has been keeping you on read for hours now and you try to distract yourself by watching a movie with Rina, you even made a bowl of popcorn for you to snack on together.

"It's Friday night," Rina blurts out of the blue with the bowl of popcorn resting close to her chest.

"And tomorrow is Saturday, yes, the point is...?" You half-heartedly ask her back.

"You have a boyfriend now. Aren't you supposed to be out and show the world how in love you are?" She says without looking at you.

"He's working tonight," you lie because it's easier than giving her the chance to analyze your relationship.

She turns her head to look at you and puts the bowl of popcorn on her lap, "Tell him you're alone at home, and trust me, he'll come running!"

You scoff because you know it'll hardly work on him and he probably gets that kind of text already, but they're most likely from the other girls, not you.

Now that she gets you thinking of the other girls Seungmin is seeing, you get up from the couch and go into your room. As you lay on your bed staring at the ceiling, you think of Rina's trick, it may be fallible, yes but it's worth trying. Instead of texting him, you call him and will keep on calling him until he picks up.

"Hey," you sweetly greet him as soon as he picks up the phone.

"Hey," he says back and it's nice that you can hear enthusiasm in his voice.

"What are you doing? Are you done with work?"

"Yes, I've just finished it," he answers along with rustles on his end of the line.

"Oh, that's great. How about we get dinner together?" You spontaneously ask him.

"Right now?"

"Yes, right now," you answer even though you have had your dinner already.

He sighs into the phone and then says, "I promised Lea that I'll treat her to dinner after work."

Your smile fades in a second and close your eyes, feeling defeated, "Okay, then."

There's a pause before Seungmin says something, "How about—"

"I'll see you," you abruptly end the call.

The other day it was Jane, yesterday it was Mila, and tonight, it's Lea. Another day, another girl to be worried about.

You fling your phone until it lands on the other side of the bed and sighs, "I'll see you never more like."

The next day, you have enough of giving other girls the chance to be with him. You wake up early, put on your nicest dress you just bought online, and spend an hour styling your hair, leaving the apartment even before Rina wakes up from her sleep.

You stop by the bakery on the way and buy a few baked goods, you don't bother buying the coffee because he'll only drink coffee he made himself. Except that day, Seungmin tolerated your coffee because it's you who made it. You push the door of his apartment and let yourself in, smiling because he's already awake. He's in the middle of grinding his coffee.

"How many of your muses come over in the morning bearing breakfast?" You say, showing him the bag of food you bring with you.

"Good thing I always brew a pot of coffee," he says in response.

He walks up to you, taking the bag from your hand to put it on the dining table so he can hug you and properly kiss you. One kiss is all it takes to remind you that a part of him is dearly yours and no one can take that away from you. You hold him back and hold on to him, returning his kiss with the same passion.

"Morning," he says with his lips glistening wet from the kiss.

You smile looking into his warm brown eyes, "Morning!"

Seungmin continues making his coffee and it's better to give him the space to do his morning ritual, you use the chance to take a look into his studio. You can see the trace of his works from last night from the lights and the props are still there, his computer is already on and you wonder if he's been up all night working. You return to the kitchen with a cup of coffee already waiting for you and you pull a chair to sit next to him.

"Did you stay up all night working?" You ask in curiosity.

"Kind of," he answers.

You frown and suddenly regret for coming when he needs the time to rest, "I'm sorry for coming without telling you."

He shakes his head and takes out a piece of pastry out of the bag, "I should be the one apologizing for not replying to your texts and the call."

You wave him off, "It’s okay. I was stupid for asking when I knew you were busy."

The morning sun hits him right on the eyes, making them shine as he softly gazes at you, "I want to show you something!"

He takes you back into his studio where he pushes the button to automatically close the windows, making it completely dark with the only source of light coming from the computer screen.

"Please, wait!" He tells you as he operates the computer, pulling a file from so many folders stored on his computer.

It gives you the itch at how unorganized his computer filing is but you hold the urge to say something. You look away and patiently wait like he asked you.

Then the projection turns on and shows moving images on the wall, you can't see it at first but after a moment, you recognize that it's you. These are all the pictures he took of you when you first came here, also the ones he took after he first kissed you that night.

"Is that me?" You ask in disbelief.

The girl in the pictures is beautiful, bright, and happy, it's nothing like you've seen countless times in the mirror. Seungmin hugs you from the back and watches it together with you with his hands wrapped around your waist, his chin resting on your shoulder.

"It's you," he assures you.

It's like seeing a side of you that you never knew you had but you believe it's because you were in love.

"What do you think?"

"It's beautiful," you delightfully sigh.

"You are beautiful," he says with a gentle kiss on your cheek.

You slightly turn your head to the side at him, "But it's also weird looking at myself, not that this is weird but seeing myself..." you look back at the projection and continue talking, "... like this."

He turns his head at you and says, "Well, you have to get used to this because you're my source of inspiration," he coyly says.

Seungmin must be oblivious to how much his words affect you. Your cheeks are heating and your heart is leaping, it means so much more that he said you're his source of inspiration. In that moment, you believe that it's possible to be his one and only, it takes time but you're willing to wait until he's ready.

You turn around to face him and look into his eyes, there are so many things you want to say to him but at the same time, you can't fathom them into words. You show it through a kiss instead, showing him how much he means to you by passionately kissing him and putting your hands around him to show that you don't want to let go.

Seungmin tightens his hold around you, one hand holding the nape of your neck so he can angle your head as he pleases so he can deepen the kiss and taste you more. He only lets go to let you catch a breath and capture your lips in a kiss again, harder and hungrier than before.

The sound of the door being slammed shut stops the kiss and you see through the doorway that someone is coming into the apartment.

"Am I early or...?" The girl asks.

Seungmin checks on his watch and says, "No. You're actually right on time."

He glances at you and introduces her to you, "This is Yoon. She models for me."

"Ah..." you lowly gasp and suddenly, you feel like you're getting in between them instead of the other way.

"I should go," you hurriedly walk out of the studio.

"No. Please, stay!" Seungmin says.

You grab your bag from the dining table and sling it on your shoulder, "I have something," you lie.

You're aware you have to sound believable when you lie, "I have to go shopping with Rina. She's waiting for me."

Seungmin is following you as you're walking to the door but you just want to get out of there quickly, "I'll call you later. Bye!"

You close the door behind you and never look back, but it seems like Seungmin doesn't bother to chase after you.

It's only ten in the morning, but you don't want to go home and risk being asked by Rina why you dressed so nicely on a Saturday morning. You stop by a grocery store and buy a loaf of bread, walking in the direction of the park to clear your head while feeding the ducks by the pond.

"Where are you going with a loaf of bread?" Someone asks.

You turn on your feet and see Minho, stopping on his bicycle to talk to you. You feel horrible for the way you treated him that day.

"To the park," you answer.

"And what are you going to do with the bread?" He asks, eyeing the bag of bread you're holding in one hand.

It's an embarrassing thing to admit but after what you did that day, you remind yourself to be better than shrugging him off.

"I'm going to feed the ducks by the pond," you admit.

Minho looks at you for a moment and nods, "I'll come with you."

He gets off his bicycle and decides to walk it as you both navigate your way through the park to the pond where a flock of ducks swimming by the pond.

"For you," Minho hands you a cup of coffee.

The coffee tastes bland compared to the coffee Seungmin made but you thank Minho nonetheless. You're ripping the bread into pieces before throwing it to the mother duck with her ducklings trailing behind her.

"So this is what you do on the weekend?" He asks.

Minho is wearing a knitted sweater that looks a size too big for him yet somehow it looks good on him. The royal blue color suits him well.

"Not really," you take another slice of bread to shred it into pieces, "I come here when I need to clear my head."

Minho cracks a laugh, "What could possibly piss you off this early in the morning?"

You shrug and toss a big chunk of bread to the other mother of duck.

"I assume it's a who, not a what," he says, then sips her coffee.

He then takes a slice of bread and helps you feed the duck as another flock gathers around you.

"That explains why you were upset that day," he says with a sly smile on his face.

Minho sees through you like you're a ply of tissue which instantly makes him more dangerous than Rina. Also, he is being polite when he says you're just 'upset' when he has the right to say you were such a bitch that day. You refrain from sharing more about how he can easily conclude with a few details and it reminds you to apologize.

"I want to say sorry for that day," you sincerely tell him.

One corner of his mouth curls into a lopsided smile, "It's alright."

It's the last slice of bread you're holding and before the ducks are asking for more, you walk away from the edge of the pond.

"Why are you walking so fast?" Minho asks while fumbling to collect the coffee cups to throw into the trash bin nearby.

"The ducks are going to chase us asking for more food," you turn from jogging to half-running.

The lunch is surprisingly delightful and you get to talk in a civil manner like normal people. Minho ends up paying for it since he pulls his credit card faster than you.

"Let's say we're even," he says.

He offers to give you a bike ride home again but with the previous experience and you've just had food in your stomach, you decide to switch the role this time.

"Only if I'm the one riding," you tell him, not wasting time to get on his bike.

He laughs at your idea, "Are you sure? I'm heavy."

The more he tries to underestimate you because you're a girl, the more challenged you are. You wave him off and tie your hair into a ponytail.

"Just hop on!"

Minho is right to underestimate you. You've been riding the same street for years and only realize now that a few of them are inclining.

"Are you sure you don't want to switch?" He asks from behind you.

You shake your head and pretend to be okay even though your legs are burning from paddling, "Nah. We're only a block away."

Minho silently laughs behind you, "Well, if you insist."

He is supposed to prevent himself from falling but it's the other way, he's holding you by the shoulders to keep you balanced.

"We're almost there!" He says, squeezing your shoulders with his hands.

You can see your apartment building and paddle the bike with the remaining strength you have, wanting to end this torture you put on yourself as fast as you can. It takes everything in you not to crash the bike and pass out on the pavement, you patiently wait for Minho to get off first, then park the bike next to the pole of a streetlight.

"Told you I'm heavy," Minho says.

You shake your head, still trying to play cool about it, "I haven't been cycling for a while so..." you can't even finish your sentence because your mouth is too busy catching your breath.

After a moment of Minho pretending to care for his bicycle when he's actually giving you time to compose yourself. When he deems that you're no longer panting, he turns around to look at you.

"I must say I'm impressed," he says.

Your hands are on your waist as you say, "Don't hold your breath, Minho."

He lowly chuckles and stops himself from continuing, "Now, we're even."

"That's fair," you nod in agreement.

You look at him and slyly smile, "I was lying when I said the ducks were going to chase us."

"I know," he casually says.

"Then why are you running with me?"

"Cause I wanted to," he simply answers.

It's hard to process that there's a part of him that is this easygoing and just so fun to be with. You can't stop laughing at how you only discovered this part of him at a random time and Minho can't help but laugh along with you.

As the hilarity subsidies with time, you take your bag and hold it in front of you, "Thank you for lunch!"

"You're welcome," he responds with a smile that you rarely see on him, warm and friendly.

He gets on his bike and looks at you, "I'll get going then."

"Be careful," you blurt and why would you say that when he always rides his bicycle everywhere, "I mean, yeah, be... careful!"

Minho only responds with a smile, then rides away.

When you come into the apartment, Rina is sitting on the window sill and you guess she saw everything. She looks at you after you lock the door behind you.

"And where have you been?" She asks with her sly smile on.

"Lunch with Minho," you simply answer, walking to the kitchen to get yourself a glass of water.

"Dressed like that?"

"I was..." You think of an alternative answer by taking a big gulp of water.

"Yeah," you decide to spare her the reason why you dressed so nicely.

"Now, that you have a boyfriend—"

You hold your hand up to stop her from talking, "Seungmin wouldn't be jealous, I can promise you that," you tell her because that's just the truth.

Seungmin is with a beautiful model named Yoon in his studio as you speak, he's not giving a damn about you going on lunch with a friend from campus.

"It's not that," Rina says.

You jerk your head away and take another gulp of water.

She walks up to you and stops behind the kitchen island, "You shouldn't lead him on."

"Can you not speak in riddles, Rina? Please?" You whine, still exhausted from giving a grown adult a ride on the bike.

"Minho likes you. You shouldn't lead him on," she makes it clear by emphasizing every word to you.

You snort and water almost comes out of your nose, "yeah, sure," you half-heartedly say, then laugh it off.

Rina follows you as you walk to your room then stops at the doorway, "Laugh and deny all you want but you know that it's true," she confidently says.

You smile at her because even if it's true, it wouldn't change a thing and Seungmin wouldn't mind with you seeing another man. But you're not going to do that, you're going to prove that you're the only one Seungmin needs.

Gone are the warm sunny days as autumn arrives with the change of the colors of the leaves. You put on your thin coat before going out of the class and on the way out of the building, Minho joins you while carrying his books in one arm.

"Have you read the email from Professor Lim?" He asks as he's descending the stairs next to you.

"What? Did I miss an assignment?" You ask back in panic and fumble to look for your phone from the pocket of your jeans.

"No, it's the invitation to his gathering," he answers.

You stop by the door and step aside, not wanting to block other people from passing by, "I don't think I'm invited," you hopelessly say.

Minho dramatically rolls his eyes at you, "You only failed one of his tests."

There it is! You open to check if it's really the invitation and indeed it is. Professor Lim only invited the brightest students in his class and knowing that your academic presence is a little declining due to personal issues, you can't lie but feel relieved that you're still considered as one.

"It's next Saturday," he says.

"Yes, I can see that," you tell him and continue walking down the stairs.

"So, who are you going to take?" He asks.

"Is it necessary to bring a plus one?" You ask with a raised eyebrow.

He shoves his hands into the pocket of his jeans, "You're not going to take your boyfriend?"

It's funny that when you hear the word boyfriend, you don't immediately think of Seungmin, he's your boyfriend but at the same time, he doesn't feel like one.

"I'll try to ask him but I'm not sure," you tell him.

You're heading to the gate since you haven't been able to ride your bike yet and Minho is following you instead of turning to the bike station.

"You didn’t ride your bike today?"

"Popped my tire yesterday and I haven't got time to take it to the shop," he replies.

Even with an extra layer of clothes you're wearing, the cold wind is slipping through you. You're rubbing your hands together to warm yourself.

"Want to get some coffee?" Minho asks.

Having a warm drink in a weather like this couldn't be more perfect, you excitedly nod at his suggestion, "Sounds nice, yeah, sure."

There's a coffee shop one block away from campus and you both exit the campus gate heading that way when a bike stops at the side of the street.

In one look, you know that it's Seungmin even though his head is hidden in a helmet. He lifts the visor and exposes his face, softly smiling at you.

You come up to him, "Seungmin? What are you doing?"

"I came to pick you up," he simply answers, then hands you a helmet.

"Come on!" He says, not asking but ordering you to get on the bike and doing it so confidently.

You remember that you were heading to get coffee with Minho, you turn to look at him while holding the helmet in front of you.

"I'm sorry but can we do coffee next time?" You ask with an apologetic smile.

Minho coyly smiles at you and shoves his hands deeper into his jeans pockets, "That's okay."

You wave bye at him before putting on the helmet and getting on the motorcycle. You feel a funny feeling seeing Minho watch as Seungmin takes you further away from him until he disappears from your sight.

Seungmin notices that you're slightly shivering from riding through the cold, autumn air. He holds your hands as the elevator is taking you to his floor. He looks at you with his body pushing you to one side of the elevator.

"You're freezing," he says.

"I'll be okay," you tell him.

He doesn't answer but unzips his leather jacket, putting your hands on each side of his waist next to keep them warm under his leather jacket, "Is it warm enough?"

You nod yet he proceeds to rub his hands up and down your arms. In this enclosed space, he's closing the gap between your bodies with each passing second. He can feel every breath you take and the pounding of your heart in this proximity.

"Better now?"

"Yes," you breathless reply.

His fingertips brush your cheek as they reach for your hair to tuck it behind your ear and you stifle a breath as he holds you there. The elevator chimes and interrupts the intense moment, he takes your hand to lead you to his apartment like you never went there before.

You understand why he seems giddy as he guides you further inside, he has prepared dinner for you with candles and everything.

"I just need to get the wine," he says, going to the kitchen to get it.

"We can order when we're here... why?" You're at a loss for words.

You get used to setting your expectations low so when he does a grand gesture like this, it's nothing like what you have in mind.

"I cooked the dinner," he informs.

"What? You cooked all of these?" You say in awe, looking up at him as he's filling your glass with wine and the aphrodisiac smell wafting around the room.

"Yeah," he says it like it's not a big deal.

He lights the candles on the center of the dining table, "It's a little cold now but I hope it suits your taste," he says.

It's the way he acts like he doesn't prepare all this for you that only elevates his attractiveness, Seungmin is one of a kind and it makes you want him more. His cooking suits your taste just right and it tastes as nice as the smile he's giving you the whole dinner. You feel content just from being able to have alone time with him.

"Are you working today?" You ask to make sure that no one is going to interrupt again.

"I finished early," he shortly answers.

You let out a low sigh of relief and sip your wine to wash the anxiety down your mouth. You can finally relax your shoulders and truly enjoy the moment with him.

"I have another surprise for you," he announces after wiping his mouth with a napkin.

Your heart skips a beat at the mention of surprise because it doesn't always mean good.

"Yeah?" You nervously ask.

He gets up from his chair and holds his hand out at you which you eagerly take. He takes you in the direction of his studio and slides open the door to reveal the surprise.

"Oh, my God!" You gasp.

Seungmin turned his studio into a private art exhibition where he decorated the room with white sheets hung all over the wall and images of you projected onto them.

You cringe the moment you recognize that it's you, "It's still weird seeing my own face."

"Why? You're beautiful," he says as if it's that obvious.

He leads you to the center of the room where you can see the videos he took of you playing on each side of the wall at the same time. They look like dreams from the past but in the best way, you like how it reminds you of those summer days when everything was much warmer, brighter, and less complicated.

You look down and see that he put a bed on the floor, "That's so presumptuous of you," you say as you sit down on the bed.

Seungmin is slyly smiling as he takes a seat next to you and props one hand against the bed, "Well, we don't have to do anything if you don't want to."

You turn your head to the side and get greeted by his stare, "But I want to do... anything," you say.

He's already gone as you catch his eyes staring at your lips, he looks into your eyes again to say, "That's even better."

Is it pathetic of you to say that you miss being touched by him? Well, Seungmin can see how you crumble at the faintest of his touch on you. If it wasn't a sudden invitation, you would have dressed so nicely and put on a nice pair of lingerie. From the way he looks at you with eyes wide and heavy with lust, you're thankful that the matching underwear you're wearing is flattering enough for him.

"So beautiful," he sighs with his knuckles rubbing the back of your thigh.

He leans down to kiss your neck and chest, pulling away to look at you then sighs, "So warm..."

Only using the tip of his fingers, he places fluttering touches across your chest and murmurs, "So soft..."

He then uses his mouth to make a trail of kisses down the front of your body, stopping when his lips meet the waistband of your underwear.

Seungmin doesn't hesitate to plant his nose on your clothed core and takes a sniff at it. His hand smoothly parts your leg open and keeps it open by curving his arm around it. Through the sheer fabric of your underwear, he traces the bundle of your nerves with his tongue, circling it until it's soaked with a mix of his saliva and your essence.

Impatient, he puts the underwear to the side so he can put his mouth on your wetness, lapping at it like a man with an endless thirst. Lying on the bed almost naked with his head between your legs, you bite a finger between your teeth to muffle your noises.

Seungmin knows how to make you feel good and when he thinks using his mouth is not enough, he adds his fingers to stimulate you more. Your back is arching, slowly pulsating your hips at his face and riding on his slender fingers that curl inside you, lowly moaning through your parted mouth.

"Oh, my..." you sigh with your hands now grasping the sheet under you.

Seungmin takes your hand and slips it in his hair, wanting you to tug at it. He dives deeper into your wetness, his tongue endlessly teasing your clit, and sucks on it hard that earned him a loud moan from you. As the knot tightens inside you, your legs start to press into his head but that doesn't stop him from pleasing you until you cum all over his mouth.

Seungmin drags his glistening wet mouth across your stomach and places kisses on each breast before placing his mouth on you, kissing you so deep that it takes your breath away. He leaves you gasping for air once he lets go of the kiss, going for your neck to plant kisses on the sensitive skin. His hand smoothly pulls your soaked underwear down your legs without you realizing.

You do the same by opening the buttons of his shirt, removing every piece of clothing so you can every inch of his warm skin and taut muscles.

"I dreamed of you fucking me every night," Seungmin whispers.

You giggle as his breath tickles your ear, "Do you want me to?"

He doesn't answer but turns over on the bed and you're lying on top of him, his hand glides down your spine and stops at the curve of your ass, squeezing the ample flesh there as he presses a long kiss on your lips.

Seungmin is underneath you yet you feel intimidated as you're straddling him on the bed, his eyes never straying away from yours even for a second. You begin by reaching for the clasp of your bra on your back and take it off, slowly letting it slide down your arms, then you see that his eyes are slightly faltering at the sight of your naked body sitting on top of him.

Instead of feeling shy, you get a boost of confidence from the way Seungmin admires your body with eyes that light up in fiery desire and hands that endlessly explore places that make you lustfully sigh. You put your hands on his chest and slowly, drag them down, you watch as he whimpers as your hands stop on his abdomen. Your eyes flick at his then down at his hardening member, wrapping your hand around him to slowly stroking it.

You can feel his cock pulsating with desire in your hand, so hard and so veiny, hot all over. The harder it gets, the harder you resist yourself, you take a position and angle his cock into your entrance, wetting the tip by rubbing it down your slit.

Slowly, you ease yourself down his length as a long, breathless moan falls out of your mouth, "Oh..."

You bite your lower lip, feeling overwhelmed by how good it feels to have him inside you and fill you perfectly. You whine as he is fully sheathed in your warm, velvety walls.

Seungmin grips your waist with nails that dig into the flesh. You throw all of your hair to one side and enjoy watching him struggling to calm himself down.

"Do I feel good?" You ask him.

He sucks air through his gritted teeth and closes his eyes for a moment to finally answer, "So fucking good."

Hearing that, you feel confident to continue and you start rolling your hips, back and forth, fucking him like he dreamed every night. Not enough from just watching you fucking him, Seungmin sits up so he can kiss you, putting his hands around you with his head buried between your breasts.

"Even better than my dreams," he says against your lips.

You smile and return his kisses with the same eagerness, feeling his cock engorged inside you as you clench around him. Finding yourself lost in the pleasure as well, you put your hands around his neck as support and change the pace, bouncing on his lap as everything intensifies.

Seungmin takes your breast into his mouth and sucks on it hard, making you tug at his hair at how painful yet delightful that is. He then uses his tongue to play with your nipple before letting it go, leaving your breast wet with his saliva. He looks up at you as his hands grip each side of your waist, "You keep clenching around me."

You cup his jaw and ask, "You want me to stop?"

He shakes his head, "No."

The room is quiet except for the sound of bodies and lips crashing against each other, breathless moans, and the rustles of the bedsheets that hardly cover the bed anymore. With his hand gripping the nape of your neck, he forces you to keep looking at him as you both are closing into your highs.

Your high-pitched moans clash with his low grunts the moment both of you reach your climax together. You collapse onto his shoulder while he holds you close with his arms tightly wrapped around you.

A few kisses later, he gently lays you down on the bed and slowly pulls out of you, his eyes widening seeing his cum dripping out of you. It surprises him how much he cum inside you yet he pushes his cock inside you again before laying down next to you. He kisses your lips and nestles his head in the crook of your neck.

"I feel weird now," you say.

"Why?"

"We had sex with me watching us," you say, pointing at the video playing on the walls.

"I think it's sexy," he disagrees, then kisses your lips.

He props a hand against the mattress to support his head and tenderly caresses your cheek with his knuckle, "Want to know something?"

"Yeah?"

He gives you a soft peck on your lips first before speaking, "I think that we are indeed fated to meet again."

You put your hand on his chest and thinking that it would help you tell if he's being honest, "You think so?"

His eyes filled with nothing but admiration and sincerity, softly staring into yours and making you vulnerable under him, "I think you're the one for me."

Is it a sign that he's ready to commit to you? That you'll be the one and only girl in his life? Or should you hold your breath longer?

"I like you so much," he confesses, then rests his head on your chest.

Nevertheless, you don't want to think about what's coming next. You want to focus on this euphoric feeling of hearing those words coming out of his mouth. With that, you set yourself free and float onto cloud nine.

No one knows what time is it because all you can see are videos of you playing on a loop on the walls. You turn to the side and see Seungmin's eyes are open for you don't know how long. He could've watched you sleeping for hours for all you know.

"What time is it?" You croak.

He kisses your shoulder and puts his hand across your chest, "To be honest, I don't know," he replies.

You sleepily chuckle and put your hand on his forearm, "Coffee?"

"Okay," he takes your request, then rolls over to hover above you, "I'll make coffee after a kiss."

A kiss turns into two then three kisses and the fourth kiss escalates things further. The next thing you know, you're fisting the sheet and being a moaning mess underneath him.

Despite the sex revives both of you more than caffeine does, Seungmin just can't start his day without making coffee. The smell is wafting around the room while you're observing his camera collection and pick up one he's lending you.

It's been a while since you haven't taken his pictures and it's just the perfect scene, he's putting on his serious face with his mouth slightly curled into an adorable pout. He glances in your direction at the sound of the camera shutters. You ignore his glare by taking more pictures of him dressed in a white t-shirt with his fluffy bedhead.

"Oh?!" You stop to check why it won't take another picture, slightly fearing that you might have accidentally broken his camera.

He takes it from you to look for the issue, "You run out of films," he simply points out.

Seungmin pours you a cup of coffee first before handling the camera, pulling open the drawer to get a tube for the film.

Before the smell of coffee makes you forget about what you planned to ask him, you look at him and ask, "My Professor is inviting me to his gathering next Saturday and I'm thinking of taking you as my plus one."

Seungmin carefully opens the back of the camera to extract the roll of film, "When is it again?"

"Next Saturday."

He unlocks his phone to check his calendar, "Sorry, I have an appointment that day," he says.

It's not like you expected him to agree to socialize with your Professor. Just a tad disappointed but you understand that he's busy.

"That's okay," you assure him with a smile.

He puts down his phone next to his cup of coffee and takes the tube of films with him, "I'll put this to develop later."

His phone still lights up when he leaves for the studio and you don't mean to be nosy, but it's sitting there so you drag it close enough to see his schedule.

Kayla. 8 pm. Hotel Seville. That's what is written on his schedule for next Saturday. Before he notices that you're snooping in, you lock the phone and put it back next to his coffee cup. He returns to the kitchen, placing a kiss on your cheek as he walks past you before sitting on his stool.

"That looks good on you," he says, eyeing the shirt you're wearing which is the same one he wore last night.

"Yeah, it's comfortable," you reply with a smile.

"You can have it."

"I was planning to steal it anyway," you jokingly say.

Maybe you were over your head to think that what he said is a sign or maybe it is a sign for you to take a deep, deep breath and prepare yourself to hold it in longer this time.

The silence lets you dive further into your head and bathe yourself into your thoughts. Deeper and deeper, you're slowly drowning yourself in it until someone pulls you out of the water, taking you back to the real world that is just as harsh and as cold.

"I know I'll find you here," Minho says.

You thinly smile at him and shut the book you're hardly reading, "What's up?"

Minho puts his backpack down on the floor and joins you to sit at the other end of the window sill, it's your favorite spot in the library, "Did you fail another test or do you always look this terrible?"

If your head wasn't so centered around Seungmin, you would have come with a funny retort. You can only scoff and act like it doesn't bother you, to be honest, the only thing that bothers you is Seungmin.

"So, who are you going to take tomorrow?" You ask to shift the topic and your mind altogether.

The gathering is tomorrow which reminds you of the preparation that is still at zero. You haven't found a dress to wear and worse is no one to go with.

Minho fixes the collar of his coat as he says, "I don't think anyone wants to go with me."

That's a lie. The truth is a lot of girls are dying to ask him out and one of them would be more than glad to go with him if they weren't intimidated by his indifferent attitude, his smart mouth that only speaks harsh truth, and a brain that matches the size of his ego. The safe bet is Minho thinks that no girl is worthy enough to go with him.

"How about you?" He asks back.

"I'm taking myself," you answer with a dry laugh.

Minho sharply inhales air through his teeth and shoves his hands into his coat pockets, "Why don't we go together?"

Does it mean you're worthy enough for him? And why does that make you feel somehow... flattered? You look at him in suspicion, trying to guess what he is actually thinking when he asks you that. You eventually give up reading his inscrutable expression.

"But why?"

"Why not?" He asks back instead of answering.

You awkwardly laugh as you put your books back into your bag. There are no written rules where you can't take another guest as your plus one and he's right, why not?

"Yeah, sure," you take on his offer, "I'll meet you there."

It's not like Seungmin is going to mind you're going with Minho.

With Rina's help, you found a black dress with an appropriate length to wear to the gathering. She also lends her dainty earrings and high heels to match with it. You hold on to your coat as the cold slowly seeps into you as you walk on the pavement leading to Professor Lim's house.

From afar, you can see that his house lights up brighter than the other house, and cars are parked along his side of the street. You're fifteen minutes early from the appointed time but intellectuals always come early if not punctual. You pick up the speed of your walking when you see Minho standing outside.

"Why are you here?" You ask.

"I'm invited."

You snort hearing his answer, "I mean, why you’re not inside?"

"I'm waiting for you," he answers, a curl of steam escaping his mouth, and tells you he must have been waiting long outside.

"It's cold. You can wait for me inside!" You scold, taking him by the elbow to climb the steps and knock on the door.

Not long after, someone opens the door and greets you, "Hello, I'm Kevin, I'm Professor Lim's husband."

His marital status shocks you more than knowing about his sexual preference and you take his hand for a handshake, "Nice to meet you!"

Minho takes his turn to shake his hand and Kevin is surprised by his cold hands, "It's cold outside. Come in! Come in!"

After taking off his coat, Minho helps you take off yours and does it carefully so as not to ruin your hair which Rina spent almost an hour to style.

"Thank you," you mutter as you turn around.

He freezes for a moment just looking at you before he can say something, "You look nice!"

You're not used to gentleman Minho who knows how to treat a girl. You look at him to give you an idea of what you should compliment on him.

"And you look... not bad," you praise.

Honestly, Minho looks dashing tonight. He wears a black suit and a crisp white shirt, the suit jacket perfectly suits him, showcasing the broadness of his shoulders and the dark slacks enhance the length of his legs.

It's a polite thing to do to greet the host of the gathering and thank him for the invitation. Professor Lim looks more lively tonight than he looks when he's in his class.

"Please write down your answer for the quiz tonight," He says.

Every guest has to write down their answer to the same question. You and Minho take a card each to write your answer and read the question above already written on it.

"The person you would most like to have dinner with real or imagined, living or dead is..."

You know the exact answer that would please Professor Lim since he talks a lot about his favorite writer.

"George Sand," you and Minho say in unison and break into laughter together.

You check everyone else's answer on the big crystal bowl and see that a few of them have written the same answer, it's either George Sand or her full real name just for added impression.

You decide to skip on writing your answer, "I'm going to get a drink."

Minho also ditches his card and follows you, finding the waiter who carries a tray of drinks around the room. He grabs two champagne flutes and hands one to you.

"I always wanted to see his book collection," you tell Minho.

He confoundedly shifts his eyes to the big shelf full of books behind you, "And those are not books?"

You take a small sip of your wine, "He has a study room upstairs and it's off-limit to guests," you lowly whisper.

Minho looks around and spots that the host is busy talking to a group of people and his husband is walking around making sure everyone is enjoying the food.

"Well... it's not exactly off-limits," he says, taking you by the hand and sneaking up the stairs as everyone else is busy socializing.

Professor Lim's study room is located on the third floor, it is supposed to be the attic but he turns it into a big study room and you guessed it correctly, that's where he keeps his dear books. Without turning on the lights, you use the flashlight on your phone to scan the titles of the books, they're well-preserved first editions.

"Oh!" Minho suddenly gasps from the other side of the room.

You turn around and find him cradling a bottle of brandy, it's half full and looks very expensive.

"Let's have a party on our own," he says with mischief written all over his face.

You usually steer yourself away from problems but you really don't want to go back downstairs and try to socialize, talking about intellectual stuff. You just want to dull your mind with alcohol. Minho pushes the window and takes the drink with him, leaving you with no choice but to follow him, hanging out by the roof of your Professor's house.

"Why are we drinking on the roof? It's cold and high, it's a disaster waiting to happen," you tell him.

He holds his hand out at you, "I brought the blanket from his chair," he says, showing you the plaid quilt blanket.

You sit next to him and resist looking down, "And about the height?"

He wraps you with the blanket, then puts his arm around you, "I'll keep you safe."

"Ugh!" You groan in disgust and shrug his hand away from your shoulder.

He laughs and uncaps the bottle of brandy, from the smell of it you can tell the alcohol percentage in it. He takes the first sip, then winces at the bitter aftertaste.

"We share the bottle?" You ask as you take the bottle from him.

"We can't use the glass and leave evidence, right?"

You sigh and reluctantly take a small sip of it, aware of how much alcohol it contains. You hurriedly hand it back to him.

"Let's be honest..." you say.

"Okay."

"What's your real answer?"

"Answer to what?"

"Professor Lim's quiz," you answer.

Minho takes a longer sip this time and prepares himself for the aftertaste, gasping once he swallows it down. He takes another moment to think of an answer.

"Tolstoy," he answers.

As expected, his answer would be one of the Russian writers. You take your turn to drink and hand it back to him quickly.

"You?"

"Since we're being honest, I'd say... Howl Pendragon," you say with a smile.

Minho gives you a judgemental look and sips the brandy without any expression whatsoever.

"We can have dinner on his moving castle and if I'm lucky, I get to meet Calcifer too," you defend your answer.

"Whatever," he comments, followed by a thick cloud of steam.

You decide to share the blanket with him, scooting closer to him and covering his back with it. You cling to the sleeve of his suit jacket and smile, "I have to hold on to something so I won't fall."

Now that the silence resides between you and him, you can see the view from the roof, mostly the university complex and the clock tower in the middle.

"If we were being honest..." Minho says, "My answer would be you."

You look at him and in this proximity, you can smell his alcohol-tinted breath, "You're drunk already."

"No... not really," he vaguely answers, then shrugs.

"Well, you can simply ask me to dinner," you tell him, "It's not like we never had dinner together before."

He gazes into your eyes and asks, "Then what about your boyfriend?"

"My boyfriend is... not really my boyfriend," you cryptically say.

"What does that mean?" He narrows his eyes at you.

You blame the alcohol for loosening you up and let your words unfiltered, "We're in an open relationship."

"So...?"

"So, he's seeing another girl as we speak," you continue.

"That's—"

"We'd better get back," you quickly end the conversation before he can dig more personal things out of you.

Drunk you is dangerous but drunk Minho is way more dangerous. You take the bottle of brandy from him, it's wise for the two of you to stop drinking. You cap the bottle and get up first, helping him walk back into the study room, then put the bottle back where it belongs.

Safely make it back downstairs undetected, you look at Minho and he looks fine, it looks as if he didn't drink a drop of alcohol.

"I need to eat something to soak the alcohol with," he excuses himself to leave your side.

Okay, maybe he is drunk yet you regret telling him about Seungmin and the open relationship thing.

In the middle of Professor Lim's reading the answer to his quiz, you decide to leave early and thank Kevin on the way out. As you collect your coat by yourself, Minho appears from behind you, taking his coat that hangs next to yours.

"Let me drive you home," he sounds as demanding as usual.

You chuckle at him, "On your bicycle?"

"No, I'm taking a car tonight," he says.

Minho isn't joking, he's driving a car tonight and you're sitting on the passenger's side, looking at his hands holding the steering wheel. This time, you conclude that it's not about how hard he grips the steering wheel, Minho simply has veiny arms and you remind yourself to look away before it gets creepy.

"The crab cakes helped you sober up, huh?" You joke.

"I stole a few slices of bread from Professor Lim's kitchen actually," he jokes back.

"Bread absorbs alcohol faster, noted."

The ride shouldn't last this long but at the same time, you don't want it to end. In this space and silence you're sharing with Minho, you feel inexplicably comfortable and safe.

"Do you have plans for winter break?" He asks.

"No."

"You're not going to your parents for holidays?" He glances at you for a second before looking straight ahead at the road.

"They're going out of the country to celebrate it with my sister and their in-law," you answer.

Minho doesn't respond but steadily taps the steering wheel with his fingers.

"What about you?"

He drops one hand and rests it on his thigh, "My parents live not too far away from the city so... you'll see me around."

"Oh, how lovely!" You meant to make it a snide comment, but you say it in a sweet tone.

Your apartment comes to sight and Minho slows the car down before pulling to the side of the street and stops the car altogether.

You unclasp the safety belt and hold your purse close to your chest, "Thank you for the lift home!"

Minho turns off the car engine, then turns his head to the side, "No problem."

Weirdly, you don't feel like getting out of the car, it's warm and quiet in here, and you're not ready to step out into the cold yet.

"Thank you for being my plus one," you add.

"Likewise," he says back.

Your cheeks are heating and you're blaming the car heater for it, not because Minho can't stop staring at you.

"I.. uh-" you lost your train of thought and quickly recover yourself, "I'll see you around."

You're about to push the car door open when he suddenly grabs your elbow. You put your hand away from the handle of the door and turn to face, "Yes?"

"Can I..." His words trail off and he swallows air instead of continuing his sentence.

You chuckle seeing him so confused and flustered all at once, "Are you still drunk?"

Minho lets out a chuckle, "Maybe."

"Want me to drive you home then?"

"Yeah," he playfully answers.

"To be honest, I am slightly drunk to drive a car," you answer, half-laughing.

In the space filled with both of your waves of laughter, your eyes meet and he's leaning in, closer and closer until his lips land on yours.

Minho glides his soft lips on yours, warm and wet, hot breath filling your mouth as you let him taste you more. His hand holds the side of your face with his thumb tenderly caressing your cheek. The kiss is everything you expect to feel when you kiss someone you like. Your heart is fluttering, you feel a tingle inside you and your chest is overflowed with warm feelings.

However, the kiss makes you realize something.

You pull away until Minho's hand slips away from your cheek.

"Goodnight, Minho," you sadly say.

Without looking at him, you step out of his car and into the cold that seeps into your bones, freezes your heart, and makes you numb.

Seungmin rarely calls you twice in an hour when he usually calls you at certain times just to keep you on your toes. You've been thinking out loud by the time you reel yourself back to reality, you notice you have two missed calls on your phone. You hit call back and he picks up right away on the second ring, that's also a rare occurrence.

"Hey, sorry, I was in the bathroom," you lie because it's easier.

You hear him sigh, then say, "I miss you."

That's another rare occurrence. He usually says those words after you say them first to him.

"Miss you too," you hate to admit but it's true.

"You sound unwell. Are you okay?" Seungmin asks with a concerned voice.

Even through your voice, he can sense something is going on with you. You lick your lips and lie again, "It's the cold weather."

He lowly gasps then says, "You better dressed warmly. I don't want you to get sick."

"Okay," you immediately comply but you can't find it in you to engage in a long conversation with him, "so, why did you call me?"

"I can't call my girlfriend because I miss her?" He sweetly says.

Seungmin knows how to make you weak on the knees and you hate that you always fall for his sweet words.

"So that's it? You miss me?" You play along with him.

He laughs and you also hate how your heart rattles at the sound of his crisp laugh, "I'm taking you to dinner tomorrow."

"Just the two of us?" You naively ask.

"No," he answers, "A director of a gallery invited me to their dinner party."

"Oh. How nice!" You hope he can't hear the fake enthusiasm in your voice.

"Also, I have something to tell you," he says.

"You can't tell me now?" You're not in the mood to play along anymore.

"I have to tell you in person," he replies.

"Okay," you get used to setting your expectations low for him and you keep it that way.

"It's something good," he assures you.

"I hope so," you reply.

He thinks you're being playful and chuckles at it, "I'll pick you up tomorrow."

"Okay."

"Stay warm and take care."

"Better be something I haven't seen before as well," you give in to the temptation of teasing him.

"Okay," he playfully copies you.

The next day, you start dressing for the dinner party, wearing a dress you borrowed from Rina while she's busy packing to go home for winter break.

"Want me to help you with your hair?" She offers.

"No, I can't make you miss your flight," you kindly refuse.

You don't put too much makeup on and brush your hair, securing it with bobby pins to keep it neat.

"My taxi is here!" Rina announces.

You run out of your room to bid her bye, "Sorry I can't help you with your suitcases!"

She hugs you but not too tight to not wrinkle the dress, "It's okay. I'll just roll them down the stairs."

You're watching from the window as she waves at you before getting into the taxi. You get back to getting ready, putting your stuff into your purse and Seungmin rings the doorbell right on time.

"Whoa!" He exclaims the second he sees you.

"Come in. I just need to put my shoes on," you inform.

"Wait, wait," he stops you from walking away and pulls you close, leaning in to kiss you.

With your hand on his chest, you gently push him away and say, "We're going to be late."

He ignores your words and kisses you, forcing you to lower your guard down to let himself in again. His kiss heals but also breaks, nothing in between.

"God, I miss you so much," he sighs as he pulls away from the kiss.

You smile at his words and drop your hands to the side, "I still have to get my shoes."

Relentless, he pecks your lips before letting you go. You get a pair of Rina's black heels to match your dress and put them on with one hand against the wall.

"Where's your roommate?" Seungmin asks.

"She's going home for the winter break," you answer and go to your bedroom to retrieve your purse.

"So, you'll be alone in here?"

"Why? Does it give you ideas?" You tease.

"A lot of ideas," he shortly replies and does not hesitate to kiss you again.

The make-out session you had on your couch is what caused you both to be late for the dinner party. You fix your make-up on the car ride and thankfully, they're in the middle of an appetizer when you arrive.

Seungmin introduces you to the one who invited him, "This is Kayla, the director of Rostam Gallery."

"Oh?" You exclaim a little too excitedly. This is the Kayla he met that night Seungmin was supposed to come with you to Professor Lim's gathering.

"It's nice to meet you and thank you for letting me join in," you tell her as you shake her hand.

"The more the merrier," she says, then leads you to the dining room where the other guests have seated around the big round table.

Seungmin gentlemanly pulls the chair for you and takes the seat next to you after, the waiters immediately serve appetizers for both of you even though everyone else is almost finished with theirs.

The lady sitting next to you keeps making remarks about the china and you eventually find out that she's a ceramic artist. You engage in a conversation with her while the rest of the guests are in a heated discussion about some post-modern art pieces.

Seungmin checks on you every once in a while to make sure you feel comfortable, he holds your hand under the table and smiles as he asks, "Okay?

You dab your mouth with a napkin and answer, "The food is delicious. Can't complain!"

The guy sitting next to him leaning forward on the table to take a good look at you, "Seungmin, are you keeping this beautiful lady away from me on purpose?" He says.

You politely smile at him and Seungmin leans back on his chair to introduce you to him, "This is Jim, a journalist."

Jim offers his hand for a handshake and you briefly shake it as you introduce yourself.

"She's my girlfriend," Seungmin adds at the end of the introduction.

Jim seems to be surprised hearing that and smiles at you, "You got yourself uh... a beautiful girlfriend, Seungmin!" He says in a mix of awe and shock.

Seungmin glances at you and smiles, "I know," he confidently responds.

The conversation at the table has changed into great works of Spanish artists and Seungmin is intently listening to everyone talking about it so passionately that he is not aware of his phone buzzing inside the inside pocket of his suit jacket.

You lean in close to let him know, "Seungmin, your phone is ringing."

He reaches inside to check his phone and decides to excuse himself to take the call. The waiter is done serving the dessert and you take your fork to start digging into the decadent-looking chocolate cake.

"I'm sorry about earlier," Jim says, leaning into Seungmin's seat.

You refrain from eating and put the fork down, "Sorry for what?"

"I didn't know that you're Seungmin's girlfriend," he answers.

It gives you the impression that Seungmin's way of dating is public knowledge. All these times, these people think that you're just one of Seungmin's "girl-friend" and not his actual girlfriend whom he's dating.

You manage to put on a smile and say, "That's alright."

"Oh, you must be happy about Seungmin," he shares without context.

"Pardon?"

"Oh, he hasn't told you about the exhibition he's going to hold abroad?"

You slightly shake your head, "No."

"When is the exhibition?" You hesitantly ask.

"Next month," Jim shortly answers.

That means Seungmin is going abroad for it and he doesn't tell you about it. It's embarrassing that he declares you as his girlfriend but you get to hear about him from someone else.

Seungmin returns to his seat at the right time but he seems to acknowledge the chat you had with him, "Jim, you're not trying to steal her from me, right?"

Jim snorts in response, "As if I had the chance against you!"

You return to your dessert and dig your fork at it, cutting a piece of it on the beautiful china. Before you take it into your mouth, you look around at the people sitting on the dining table and think that they're right, you're only his plus-one and nothing more.

As everyone getting too drunk from wine and the night is getting late, Seungmin decides that it's time to leave. You leave for the bathroom and come back to him talking to a girl who's sitting next to Jim. They look rather friendly and she kisses both of his cheeks before she goes back to the dining room.

Seungmin smiles when he notices you're coming his way, he has your coat and purse in his hand.

"Ready to go home?" He holds the coat and puts it on for you, fixing your hair afterward.

You grab the purse from him as you mutter your gratitude, "Yes."

The constant hum of the car heater is what you can hear on the whole car ride as you stare out the window with your head filled with so many thoughts you can't pick one and try to assess it.

Seungmin squeezes your hand and makes you turn your head at him, "You're so quiet."

You thinly smile and think of something to say, "Don't you say you have something you want to tell me?"

He quickly glances at you before looking straight ahead, "Yeah, but I'll tell you once we get home."

"Is it about the exhibition?" You don't mean to spoil it from him but you feel sick the longer you hold it to yourself.

He looks rather surprised that you know about it, "Yes and there's another thing," he says.

"That you will be leaving the country for it?"

He awkwardly smiles, "Yes, but—"

"How did you do it?" You cut him off.

"How did I do what?" He asks in confusion.

There's no going back once you let everything out of your chest but this is it, you're done trying to control your feelings when it's your right to feel angry about what he's doing to you.

You turn on your seat to face him and ask, "How did you kiss some other girls and not feel guilty about it?"

Seungmin decides to pull the car to the side of the road and stops the engine. He looks at you and asks again, "What is it? What is wrong?"

You're tired of swallowing things down and trying to understand when he doesn't even try to do the same for you, "I kissed another guy the other night," you confess.

"And I feel horrible... I feel so bad about it because it feels like I'm cheating on you," you croak with tears getting in between the words.

You shut your eyes tight for a moment to fight the tears from coming out of you but it's a fruitless effort, "What I'm asking is how did you do it? Kissing other girls and not feeling like you betrayed me?"

Seungmin's mouth is agape but no words coming out of it. There's only a sigh and eyes that stare back into your glassy eyes.

"How did you do it?" You raise your voice that it's echoing in the small space of his car. Even with your eyes blurry with tears, you can see that he has no answer to your question.

"You don't even seem to be mad about me kissing another guy."

Tears won't stop coming down your face and you feel a lump blocking you from talking.

You take a deep breath but all it does is make you feel aches inside, "Am I really your girlfriend? Do I mean something to you?"

For the first time in your life, you don't want to know the answer. You unclasp your safety belt, grab your purse, and get out of the car. The cold slaps you in the face with the harsh cold air and you hurriedly hailing your hand to get a taxi, wanting to get as far away from him as possible.

From your peripheral vision, you see Seungmin getting out of the car and is about to walk up to you when a taxi stops right in front of you. You immediately get yourself inside and tell the driver to drive, leaving a trail of pieces of broken your heart as you go.

You find yourself in front of Minho's apartment an hour later.

It's unclear why you decided to come here but deep down, you know why. It's been days since you both kissed and you haven't said anything to him about it.

Minho probably thinks you hate him or that the kiss was a wrong move on his part when the truth is... the kiss is what you needed to take you back into reality. You knock on his door and wait in anticipation, afraid that he's already leaving for the holidays. After a while, you hear footsteps and someone unlocks the door.

Minho opens the door just enough to show himself and he looks surprised to see you. You're not aware of how miserable you must have looked with your ruined makeup and red, puffy eyes.

"The kiss was right," you tell him before losing yourself in the sadness again.

He opens the door wider to let you in, "Hey, why don't you come—"

"The kiss was nice, the kiss was everything I hoped for and I realize that I do like you, Minho," you admit with a voice that quivers from the cold.

You lick your lips and look at him, "But I also hate it. The kiss... the kiss made me realize that I... I deserve better."

The lump in your throat appears again and it turns into a hot coal as you resist letting yourself cry again.

"That I deserve someone who treats me right, special... someone who doesn't make me feel insecure all the time, someone better, someone..."

Fresh tears roll down your cheeks again and it feels hot on your cheeks after walking a block in the cold.

"Someone like you," you finish your sentence.

You look at him against the hot tears that can't stop pooling in your eyes no matter how much you wipe them with the back of your hands, "But it feels like my heart is no longer a part of my body, I can't–I can't control it, Minho," you say in a frustrated tone.

You close your eyes because what you're about you say next is painful to admit, "I can't stop it. My heart wants him."

You break into sobs the moment Minho pulls you into his hug.

From hundreds of books you've read in your life, it's impossible to find the answers to this: If the heart is no longer part of your body then how can you still feel it aches inside your chest?

Seungmin knows that one night is enough time and space he gave you. He knows that if he lets it on too long, he'll lose you and he doesn't want that.

He hits the speed limit as he rides his bike to go to your place and knock on your door only to be answered by disappointment. He calls your phone but you don't pick up, he tries knocking on the door only to get disappointed again.

As a last effort, he hits the call button again and leans against the door of your apartment. He turns around and sees someone he knows, he has seen him with you before.

"You're her friend, aren't you?" Seungmin confidently guesses.

Minho stops at the top of the stairs and stays there, "Yes."

"She's not home. Do you have any ideas where she might be?" Seungmin asks, taking a step closer to him.

Even in this proximity, Seungmin can tell that he knows the answer but he can't decide whether to tell him or not.

"I'm not sure," Minho answers and he turns around to walk down the stairs.

It seems that he decided to do the third option and that is lying about his answer. Seungmin follows him down the stairs and tries to get an answer from him.

"I know that you know," Seungmin says from behind him.

"You're her boyfriend. You should know," Minho nonchalantly says while keeps walking down the stairs with hands shoved inside his coat pockets.

Seungmin sighs to calm himself down but asking him kindly is not working, so he tries another way, "And I know you're the guy she kissed."

Minho lands on the base of the stairs, takes another step, and turns around on his feet, "So? What are you going to do about it?"

Seungmin hates this brazen, flippant attitude and if there's one good thing about it, he knows that he is just a passing fancy for you.

"Nothing," he simply answers Minho's question.

Seungmin walks the rest of the steps and stops right in front of him, "Because I know she likes me better than you!"

Minho tilts his head to meet his stare and laughs, he licks his lips before talking right into his face, "But I treat her better than you."

That gets on Seungmin's nerves that he grabs fistfuls of Minho's sweater and pulls him close, "You know nothing. Your words mean nothing to me. Just tell me where she is!"

Minho takes his hands and puts them away from him, "You don't deserve her. Why would I tell you where she is so you can break her heart again and again?" He raises his voice louder than him.

The first one, he let it go but this is his second strike and he makes the third strike when Minho decides to leave him behind. Seungmin just can't allow this anymore, he chases him outside and pulls him by his coat.

In the next second, it turns into a childish fight of pushing and shoving each other, making a scene that the passerby can't ignore anymore. Minho lets go first and takes a few steps back away from Seungmin.

"If you want to play around and date as many girls as you want, just let her go! You don't deserve her!" Minho shouts at him.

Seungmin is going at him but a stranger holding him back by his arms, "You know nothing!"

Minho yanks his arms away from the people who broke away from their fight and comes up at Seungmin, "I know everything! She went to my place last night and told me everything!"

Minho lowers his voice to not let people hear what he's saying, "You know what? She's right about everything. You didn't even mad about me kissing her."

Seungmin's heart drops that Minho indeed knows about everything. He feels it now, the betrayal. This is how you must've felt last night.

"And you're about to leave her too, right? You're going out of the country, running away from commitment like you always do," Minho says with a snide smile.

"Fuck you!" Seungmin curses out of anger, "I'm not running away from her."

People are coming to break the fight again but Seungmin tells them to stay back. He calms himself down by taking a deep breath and looks at Minho again, "I'm taking her with me and I was about to ask her if she wants to go with me when she suddenly admitted to kissing you!"

Minho looks away and lets out a snarky laugh, "You think a vacation will fix everything?"

"No," Seungmin answers while daringly looking into his eyes, "but I planned on telling her that I'm ready to commit to her."

The smirk on Minho's face gradually fades and his jaws clenched, probably holding in the urge to go at him. But he knows he has no right to prevent him from seeing you.

Minho goes for his bike parked next to the bench and Seungmin hopelessly follows him, "So, please, tell me where I can find her!"

Minho unlocks his bike and walks it to the side of the road, he turns to look at him and considers whether to tell him or not.

It's like someone has punctured your lungs, no matter how much you breathe, you keep losing air. If anything, you find it hard to breathe.

You look down at the ducks swimming on the pond, munching on the pieces of bread you throw onto the pond and it's floating on the surface of water.

You feel jealous at how easy things are for them, they only have to follow the natural law of finding their mates and procreate. No rules, no games, no tricks, no complications, no heartache. It's as simple as that.

You throw the plastic bag into the trash bin and think of taking a walk around the park before heading back home. It's cold for a walk but it's better than wallowing things in your room, all alone.

White steam escapes your mouth as you let out a sigh and rub your hands together to keep them warm when you feel a hand grab you by the shoulder.

You look over your shoulder and see the last person you want to see, Seungmin.

"Why are you out in this cold?" He asks, taking his gloves off so he can put them on you.

You take your hands away and sadly tell him "It's too late for that, Seungmin."

He ignores your words and slips his glove into your hand, "I'll always care for you."

"And for other girls too, apparently," you add.

Seungmin holds your gloved hands in his and waits until you look him in the eyes before speaking, it takes a minute until you eventually trapped yourself in his gaze.

"You didn't let me talk last night," he says.

"That won't change a thing. I'll never understand you, what you want..." you tell him.

This time, you put on a tough face and even tougher heart, you have cried enough for him. You refuse to cry again for him.

"I'm not a stop along the way, Seungmin. I'm a destination. I want you for me and me only but if you want to keep going and see where it takes you, then I beg you to please let me go," you rest your case with a steadfast heart.

"You either stay or leave and I'm afraid this is your only chance to decide," you give him the ultimatum and turn the table back to him.

It feels lighter now that you have let everything out of you and both decisions would cost you pain but it's worth knowing the answer to this.

"Can I talk now?" Seungmin asks and you must admit that he puts on a different kind of serious expression than the one he makes whenever he's making coffee.

It's only fair that you listen to what he needs to say, so you nod and let him talk.

"Last night, I was going to tell you about the exhibition and that I'll be leaving soon to prepare it," he begins.

He fiercely looks into your eyes as he steadily holds your hands, "then you left before I got the chance to say about the things I really wanted to tell you."

You swallow air and feel a pang of guilt inside you. You did act selfishly last night, you can see it now after he pointed it out to you.

Seungmin takes something from the inner pocket of his leather jacket, flight tickets, two of them. He shows it to you and smiles, "I was about to ask you if you want to go with me."

He inhales air before continuing to talk, "I'll be working most of the time but I think of us spending Christmas and New Year together..." he pauses to sniff from the cold air, "And I can't think of spending it with anyone else but you."

He pits the tickets back into his leather jacket pocket and shifts his focus back on you again, "I know you must have been so confused with this open relationship thing but if you give me more time, I know I'll be more certain with my feelings."

He squeezes your hands to emphasize how much he means his words, "Give me one more chance to prove it to you, to show you that I want to stay."

It's so hard with his eyes softly gazing into your eyes and they're warm and earnest, he's so open and honest with you. But you can't find the answer in him, you have to look into your heart and ask it if it's still what it wants.

There's only one way to find out.

"Can I kiss you?"

"Yes, with pleasure," Seungmin replies with an enthusiastic smile.

You take a step closer and close the gap of your bodies. You lean in and kiss him, letting yourself immerse in it to get what you want.

This time, the kiss will neither heal nor break you. This time, the kiss will tell you the answer.

The last time Minho saw you, you were putting in your suitcase into the trunk of a taxi and that was when he told himself that it was time to wave the white flag.

Frankly, he admitted defeat when he told Seungmin where to find you, that you must be feeding the ducks by the pond and it seemed to be leading you to agree on going away with Seungmin for the holidays.

It's what your heart wants and Minho only helped you get it.

There's a week left in winter break but snow has just started piling on the pavement he walks on. Minho wraps himself in layers of clothes and shields himself from the cold by hugging himself while listening to the crunch of the snow as he steps on it.

The plan is to return some books he borrowed over the holidays and let the librarian lady take care of them as he browses for more books to borrow.

Something tells him that he needs to check somewhere where he knows that he'll only meet disappointment. Yet he follows his heart and lets it take him to where you usually would be.

Minho almost laughs because of how vivid the imagery is. He sees you there, sitting on the big window sill with your feet pulled up and your breath fogging the glass.

Wait... does Minho see what he wants to see or is it real? Either way, he thinks his eyes are playing tricks on him so he refuses to believe, turning around on his heels.

The sound of your voice calling his name shatters his doubts, "Minho?"

It takes him a moment to get himself together and turns around to answer your call, "Yes?"

Now that he sees your smile and it's aimed toward him, he no longer thinks his eyes are playing tricks. It is what it is, it's you, right there and he's walking towards that smile.

"I thought you're still on holiday," You say and hold your book close to your chest with your hand covering the front of the book, he can't see the title.

It should be him asking that question. Shouldn't you be in another country and spend the rest of the winter break with your boyfriend?

"You know me. I like seeing books more than seeing my family," he half-heartedly says with a sheepish smile.

"Roasting yourself, huh? That's new," you say with a low laugh.

The view outside the window of tree branches covered in the show makes a picturesque background as you put your feet down the window sill but all he sees is you.

"I haven't had breakfast," you suddenly share.

"Why not?" He asks back.

"I have nothing in my fridge so I only had coffee," you answer while looking up with eyes that shine for him, "Do you have anything in your fridge I can eat?"

It takes no genius that you're asking him to cook breakfast for you but it would be stupid of him to pass the chance.

"No," Minho answers, then hoists the strap of his bag higher on his shoulder, "But I can cook them for you."

It's almost noon to be considered a breakfast so Minho cooks lunch for two while you're playing with his cats on the carpeted floor.

"I'm fun when I'm sober, right?" You coo at the eldest of his three cats, softly scratching her belly with your fingers.

He silently watches from the kitchen as he prepares the table smiling without him realizing it. He snaps himself out of it and announces, "Lunch is ready!"

You get up from the floor and dash to the sink to wash your hands, pulling a chair from the dining table and sitting on it. You take a whiff of the steaming bowl of soup Minho cooked and hum in delight, "Whoa. Smells so good!"

Minho sits on his chair after getting a pitcher of water to the table and he sees that you're waiting for him to start eating, "Aren't you hungry?"

"Thank you for the food!" You say in gratitude and with that being said, you pick up your spoon to start eating.

Maybe it's the cold weather, maybe it's the hot soup that he's eating, but Minho feels warm, inside and out. He believes it's mostly because he's enjoying the company he's with who's heartily eating the food he cooked.

"I ate too much pie and cookies at Rina's," you share out of the blue.

"Rina's?" He asks with a puzzled look on his face.

You nod and put down your spoon to drink your water, "Where did you think I spent the holidays?"

That gets him thinking for a moment. What answer should he give you? An honest one where he thought you went away with your boyfriend and possibly admits that he got a little heartbroken about it or play it cool like he usually does?

"I saw you leaving with your suitcase so I thought..." he skips on finishing his sentence.

"Ah..." you take another sip of your water and put the glass down.

"Well, that was me going to the airport to crash Rina's family's Christmas," you sheepishly answer.

Minho doesn't know how to say it without getting his hopes up yet he dares himself to ask, "You didn't go with him?"

Your eyes are nowhere looking at him but he sees a sad, profound smile on your face, then you shake your head, "He may be what my heart wants but he's not what I need."

In that moment, something is filling his chest, something warm, something that makes him feel like he can finally breathe again. Minho is hopeful once again.

"For the record, I offered to help with the dishes," you tell him, placing a mug of coffee you made for him on the kitchen counter.

Minho dries his hands with a cloth before leaning against the kitchen counter next to you and sipping his coffee, watching his cat lying under the hazy sunlight coming through the window.

He steals glances at you and hesitates to ask how you're feeling about your unexpected decision, "How are you doing?"

You inhale the air before answering, "I'm doing better than I expected actually."

Minho doesn't even think about how things will be going from here but hearing that you're doing fine puts him at ease. He has so many things to say but it's wise for him to not rush things, he's certain that you still need time.

You turn your head to look at him and say, "I've just finished reading something this week and it surprised me how much I enjoyed it."

You have one hand on your chest while the other holding your coffee mug, "It's a play and there's this line that deeply resonates with me."

The way you stare into his eyes enchants him to stare back into yours, there's a space between your bodies but looking eyes to eyes like this makes him feel closer to you in a sense.

"It says... 'If ever my life can be of any use to you, come and claim it.'."

Minho recognizes the lines right away. It's from one of his favorite writers. He gets flustered and smiles, "You read Russian literature now, huh?"

"Yeah, guess I'll be as boring as you now," You softly laugh and put down your mug on the counter next to him.

"I think it's my time to leave," you put your hands on the edge of the counter and accidentally nudged him.

Minho doesn't want to let you go again so he holds you by the fingers and looks into your eyes. His mouth gets ahead of his brain when he blurts out, "Stay."

He holds more of your hand in his and brings himself closer to you. With eyes that look deeper into your eyes and a heart that knows what it wants, Minho says, "I want you to stay."

He sees the doubt and fears in your eyes, he would understand if you chose to leave, and for once in his life, it's okay for him to lose to you.

To his surprise, you hold his hand back and say, "Well, why don't you come and claim it?"

If Minho knew that all he had to do was to come and claim it, he would have done it sooner. But right now is not too late so he closes the gap between your bodies and puts his hand on the side of your face.

With such love, he cups your cheek and swipes his thumb across your lips which he dreamed of kissing a million times, asleep or awake. This is not a dream yet you still feel like one.

The moment your lips meet again, it thaws his heart and his worried mind. He pulls you close and puts his heart closer to yours, two hearts beating as one with mere flesh and bones in between.

You are of words that create a poem and the sentiment it has between the lines, you are the allusion in his written life in which Minho has now come and claimed.

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