#in part i think it's because i've had lots of changes at work in the past few months. GOOD changes but still. can't settle

[magicalrocketships]

Rivers of Light || part 9 ||

(reminder that this in its entirety contains mpreg, reference to giving birth, Max Verstappen's bad dad, past abuse, and on-track accidents.) I also know nothing about Cyril's personal life so I've gifted him a hot French wife and a fancy house, as he deserves.

All previous parts can be found in the masterpost here.

Max had almost forgotten about Cyril's invitation to dinner. About Bastiaan's invitation too. Bastiaan's never been invited anywhere. This is his first time. So many firsts. Such a little baby and such a lot left to experience.

Part 9

Daniel suggests they walk to Cyril's for dinner. It's only five minutes away, he explains. It's why he booked this hotel instead of one closer to the Renault offices. "Cyril always has the good wine." Daniel looks hopefully in Max's direction.

Max had almost forgotten about Cyril's invitation to dinner. About Bastiaan's invitation too. Bastiaan's never been invited anywhere. This is his first time. So many firsts. Such a little baby and such a lot left to experience.

"We could test out the new carrycot," Daniel says.

Max is changing Bastiaan's nappy on the changing mat laid out on the floor. Bastiaan never particularly likes nappy changes but for once he's not complaining too much. Daniel's kneeling down next to them, booping Bastiaan on the nose with his new pink rabbit, and Bastiaan is too confused to be concerned about having his nappy changed. He doesn't even pee on Max, which has been his little trick the past few days and one Max grew tired of after the first time.

"Okay," Max says. Walking is good, because it means he can leave and bring Bastiaan back if it turns out he doesn't like dinner invitations. "I haven't got anything to give them." He knows the rules of dinners. You take a gift. Wine. Flowers. He wants Cyril to work with him. He wants a contract. A way back into racing.

"Cyril won't mind," Daniel says, shifting from booping Bastiaan on the nose to stroking the rabbit's soft nose over Bastiaan's cheek. Bastiaan likes that. His mouth curves up at the edges. He kicks his little feet. "But I just picked up some wine and chocolates for Sephine. They can be from both of us."

"I'll give you some money for them," Max says stoutly. He leans in and kisses Bastiaan's little knees before putting him in a clean babygro. He has a little blue cardigan with flowers on for Bastiaan to wear over the top. One of the ladies in Celine's book club gave Celine a bag of baby clothes for him, hand-me-downs from her grandchildren. Max thinks the baby was probably a girl, but flowers are nice and it doesn't matter. Bastiaan deserves nice things like flowers. Max had bought a newborn baby starter kit of six little stretch suits and six vests and two cardigans like his leaflet about preparing for his baby had said to. He doesn't have a washing machine at home so he has to walk to the communal ones, and Bastiaan isn't very good at staying clean and dry all day long, so the bag of clothes has been very helpful. They're for different ages too so Max doesn't have to worry so much about finding the money for new clothes when Bastiaan grows out of these.

"Sure," Daniel says easily. "We can sort it out later."

Max nods. He concentrates on getting Bastiaan ready to go out. It might be cold outside, but his little suit has mittens that fold down over his hands, and Max has a little stretchy hat for him too. The new giraffe sleeping bag doesn't have sleeves, so it's good about the cardigan and the mittens. He can put Bastiaan in it and then into the carrycot pram. He puts Bastiaan's three toys into his backpack, and the new pack of wipes into his changing bag. His baby blanket is already in the backpack. All Max has to do is go to the toilet and brush his teeth and put his shoes on and he's ready to go.

"Will you look after him?" he asks Daniel, once Bastiaan is installed in his brand new carrycot. "I'll only be a minute."

"Uncle Daniel to the rescue," Daniel grins. He leans over the pram. "Hi baby. What chaos are we going to cause while your dad's away?"

"Don't cause chaos," Max says. "I won't be long."

"Take as long as you need," Daniel says airily. He's put a corduroy tote bag in the tray under the pram with Bastiaan's changing bag. Max heard the clink of wine bottles as he put it there.

He hears Bastiaan start to cry as he's sitting on the toilet.

"Don't hurry up," Daniel calls. "Me and Bastiaan are hanging out."

"He's crying," Max calls back. "Of course I will hurry."

"We're good," Daniel reiterates. "We're just getting used to each other. See, no more crying already."

Max hurries up anyway. He speed brushes his teeth. Splashes water on his face. But when he comes out, Daniel's holding a bemused Bastiaan. He's not crying.

"Look who's back," Daniel says. "Is it your daddy? Is your daddy back?"

Bastiaan's little mouth curves up into a smile.

Max thinks: You are lovely. He holds his hands out for his baby, and kisses both Bastiaan's cheeks as he takes him from Daniel and tucks him into his chest. "I was only a little way away," he says. "Was it strange being in your new carrycot? We all have to get used to new things sometimes, but you're being very brave." Bastiaan curls his hand into Max's t-shirt. Daniel's folded back his little mittens. Max lets Bastiaan hold on to his finger instead. "Is Daniel your new friend? Is it nice? Having a friend?"

When Max looks up, Daniel's expression is strange again. Almost sad. Max doesn't understand that.

"Let's try again, little baby," Max says, not looking at Daniel anymore. He tucks the mittens over Bastiaan's hands. Pulls the sleeves of his cardigan down. Straightens his little hat. He puts Bastiaan down into the carrycot, and reattaches the cover. Bastiaan scrunches his face up, thinking, then decides not to cry, which Max appreciates. He puts his hoodie on, then grabs his jacket. Laces up his shoes. "We can go now."

"Okay," Daniel says. He's got a hoodie and a coat on too. He sounds a little weird. Max is very tired. He's too tired to understand. Everything's been strange for a long time now anyway, like Max has been underwater and everything's muffled and a long way away.

He can hear Bastiaan, though, and that's all he needs.

&&&

Cyril's house really is less than five minutes away, and it's not too cold out. Bastiaan stays awake the whole time they're walking, his bottom lip jutting out, his eyes wide. He blinks up at Max, even though it's mostly dark out and Daniel has to keep checking the way on his phone. Max's phone doesn't have much data on it. He can't afford it. He's probably still paying for his old contract, for a destroyed sim card, from a bank account he doesn't have access to anymore. But it's okay. It doesn't matter. He's got Bastiaan and Bastiaan is safe, so this is better than the alternative. Nobody is trying to hurt either of them anymore.

"Cyril's wife is Josephine," Daniel says as Max pushes the pram up Cyril's driveway. "Sephine. She's cool. Very French."

"She's French," Max says. "That will be why."

"Well, yes," Daniel says, ringing the doorbell. "Look, tell me if you want to go back to the hotel, and I'll come with you."

"I can walk by myself," Max says, but then the door opens, and it's both Cyril and his lovely, beautiful, dark haired wife. They kiss Max on both cheeks as they help him inside with Bastiaan's pram. Bastiaan is still awake, so Max gets him out of the carrycot and out of his little hat and baby sleeping bag as Daniel presents the tote bag of wine and chocolates as gifts from them both.

"We're having steak," Cyril tells him. "Daniel said you liked steak?"

"Yes," Max says. Sephine wants to hold his baby. Max also wants to hold his baby but he holds Bastiaan all the time, and Bastiaan deserves more friends. He's also a very lovely little baby, so it is of course very normal that Sephine and Cyril both want to hold him. Sephine cradles Bastiaan in her arms. She tells Max that her and Cyril have never had children, but they have nephews and nieces and they love having babies visit.

Bastiaan won't know if he has cousins. He doesn't have another daddy, and Max's family is somewhere else. It's okay. Max will be enough for him. He's promised.

Cyril takes Daniel off to get drinks, leaving Sephine with Max.

"We're very happy to have you here," Sephine says. "It must have been very difficult to travel with a baby this little."

"He's a very good baby," Max says. "But everything is of course very new to him which must be very scary."

"Yes," Sephine says. "I'd probably cry too. But you must be very tired after such a big change in your life."

Max has been very tired for a very long time. He doesn't remember not feeling tired. He hasn't felt properly awake since the last time he was in a Formula 1 car. "I can do it," he says. "I can look after Bastiaan."

"I know," Sephine says. She smiles at him. Rocks Max's baby, who is quietly taking it all in. "Cyril's ecstatic you're going to be coming on board. Thinks you're a real talent."

"I won't let him down," Max says. He can't. This is the only chance he has, and he won't fuck it up. He'll have to figure out how to get to racing fitness again with Bastiaan in tow. That's another thing he hasn't thought enough about. He doesn't have to figure it out tonight, but he doesn't know how it's going to happen.

Cyril and Daniel come back in bearing wine glasses and bottles of red wine.

"You're not drinking alcohol, I don't think," Cyril says to Max.

"I don't think the baby will like wine very much," Max says. Daniel's got a bottle of iced water in one hand. He winks at Max.

"There's coconut water too," Daniel says. "I picked some up for you. You used to like that, right? Water first?"

Max did. He nods. "Thank you, Daniel."

"Any time," Daniel says. He pours the water for Max as Cyril pours three glasses of wine for the rest of them. Sephine is still cooing at Bastiaan, and Daniel comes to join her on the sofa. Cyril gets a folder of papers from the bag by the door.

"Your contract," Cyril says. "Get your lawyer to look over it. Your manager. Whoever you need. I think you'll find it's very fair but I know you will have comments. Legal will send a copy to your inbox too now the paper copy's been delivered."

Max holds the papers in his hand. "I don't have a lawyer," he says. "Or a manager. I'll look at it." He can't afford either a new lawyer or a manager and he's not going back to anyone who has contact with his dad. He sees Cyril and Daniel exchange glances, but Max refuses to go red.

"You can use my lawyer," Daniel says. "I've got contracted hours with him I'm not using because this guy's treating me too good." He tips his thumb in Cyril's direction. "Bit of contract negotiation will give him something to do."

Max looks at him.

Daniel shrugs. "Going to waste otherwise. I'll text him now." He looks at Cyril. "Might as well send him the contract direct. He can start looking at it tonight."

Nobody asks why Max doesn't have a lawyer anymore. A manager. A team. Why he's not going back to Red Bull. Why his dad's not here. Why Max is alone. Why Bastiaan has nobody in his life but his daddy.

If anyone knew where to look, they'd find out that Max's pile of secrets is way too fucking high.

"How about a tour first for Max and this little one?" Sephine suggests. "Before we get stuck into talking about racing."

Daniel laughs. "We can talk about something other than racing."

"Can we?" Sephine grins. She lets Max take Bastiaan back, and Max tucks Bastiaan in against his chest. He positions him so that he can still see what's happening and make friends, but he can do it from the comfort of his daddy's arms, which both Bastiaan and Max prefer. "We haven't yet."

"Ehhh," Daniel says. "Come on, Bastiaan, you're going to love what Cyril's done with his office."

"Oh, a wallpaper aficionado," Cyril says, getting to his feet. "I see how it is."

Bastiaan rubs his cheek over Max's hoodie like he's enjoying himself too. Max's lovely little brave baby.

"He's a big wallpaper fan," Max glances at Daniel. He bites his lip, waiting to see if Daniel will laugh with him.

When Daniel does, Max can't help it; he laughs too.

"Tour," Sephine says. She hooks her hand through Max's elbow. She confides, "It really is nice wallpaper."

"Of course," Max agrees. When he looks over, Daniel winks at him.

Max hides his smile in a kiss to Bastiaan's head.

[utilitycaster]

I've been thinking about this since watching the C2E2 panel but Marisha said something about the value of coming in with other characters and having pre-existing relationships and actually? I somewhat disagree for longform campaigns.

I think for shorter stories, it really doesn't matter because in a very brief game, you have to come to the table with a very complete character idea. Candela, Thresher, and the Calamity/Downfall/Divergence trio have all managed to have consistently excellent character work regardless of whether people have known each other since literally before time (Downfall), whether they have a longstanding but not infinite pre-existing relationship (several relationships in the Circles of Needle and Thread or Tide and Bone; Calamity; Fiedra and Crokas in Divergence) or whether it's something relatively recent or even a first-time meeting (some Candela relationships; some of the Divergence relationships; Thresher). A nebulous "yeah, we've worked together" also works well for lighter series (ESO Blackwood, Wildemount Wildlings, The Menagerie) in terms of quickly getting to the story.

For longer stories, a longstanding pre-existing relationship can be strong; but it can also keep those characters from branching out and mixing, and unless that's explored it can really limit the story. I think the CR fandom especially tends to put a certain degree of weight on how good the twins were without realizing that they work not because they are twins and family, but because a big part of their story is realizing that they have people other than each other now. [I keep thinking about this actually w/r/t my thoughts about Veilguard - there are a number of reasons I consider my first run to be the "canon" one for me, but a big one is that romancing someone out-of-faction made me feel more integrated into the team because I suddenly had two really strong connections rather than just one.]

Part of why the Mighty Nein, in my opinion, are so compelling is that everyone ends up with an interesting and deep relationship with everyone else. And a big part of that is that we don't come in with any relationships longer than about 8 months, and indeed, that relationship barely ends up influencing party interactions because Molly is very outgoing, Yasha is frequently absent, and then Molly dies. So we have Caleb and Nott/Veth, who are also very much a story of people realizing they have more than each other now (and that neither of them really knew each other that much going in!); and Fjord and Jester, who have known each other for like 6 weeks and who spend some significant time apart (and both of whom are also fairly outgoing and quick to interact with other people). Beau and Caduceus being free agents did quite a lot as well. We don't just see an existing relationship continuing; we see relationships grow and change onscreen as the players find not just the relationship but the characters themselves, and that's what makes it compelling.

As mentioned with Vox Machina, the twins are great, and so are Pike and Grog; but Pike's absence means we see a lot of Grog and Scanlan (who don't have a very longstanding relationship prior to Vox Machina's formation), and the romances are all between people who didn't know each other well beforehand. Even the conflicts are ones that grew from people who met relatively recently (Keyleth and Percy's friendship and arguments being a prime example).

I think the twins were great and you should revisit Campaign 1 if you want that again, but as someone who felt Campaign 3 really struggled in terms of mixing up the pre-existing relationships to the detriment of party cohesion/conflict and an interesting dynamic, I'd much rather see strangers or near-strangers in longform campaigns, and save people coming in together for shorter works.

(I also, iirc, think this came up in the context of session zero, and that might be a factor because again the main campaigns seem to not do the same level of session zero as the shorter ones, and if they did that might fix the issue and make a pre-existing relationship better; part of why the twins work so well is that Liam and Laura essentially did their own mini-session zero on their own.)

[starrynightskies12]

I've seen theories crop up this season that Lila isn't working alone, starting with her line at the end of The Illustrhater, "You'll know nothing about me, about us, about them" which at the time I kind of took to be talking about her wide array of disguises but also did get me wondering. I've also seen people say that some of the people seen (the one at the end of Sublimation I've seen talked about quite a bit) just don't seem to be Lila, there's also the way she is writing everything down, which could chalk up to intense planning and observation, but could also very well be her trying to relay the information to someone else. It's also that it is really unknown how she found out Gabriel was Monarch, as well as the final scene in Re-creation with the blue light.

After the end of El Tore De Piedra my immediate thought had been "Oh wait does Lila work for these people?" and while it's still on my mind I feel like she doesn't?

While it would explain those other points and all the resources she seems to have at her disposal, ultimately I feel like there are points that just don't fit this theory, that imply she is either not with them or receiving very little to no support from them.

There's her dynamic with Gabriel, where he seems interested in her intellect for a while but that doesn't appear to be due to knowing who she is through the grapevine, it looks more like Lila just impressed him all on her own. Of course while Gabriel is probably an important part of the organization, that doesn't mean he knows everybody, I can see identities sometimes, or even a lot of the time we don't know a lot yet, being kept a secret for preservations sake. Gabriel is also very disregardant of her in season 5, and that is in some part I'm sure Gabriel just being Gabriel, but in general it seems she wasn't a very important part of the plan, being tossed aside like it was nothing and replaced with Kagami in the blink of an eye.

In Revelation she has to go through quite a bit of trouble to get information on Gabriel that if she was an important part of the secret society she really shouldn't have had to go through, unless she tried to get it but was denied access, which really implies to me that if she is involved they don't consider her important at all.

Another point to that is that she was not invited to the Diamond Dance. You can tell by how pissed she was that she didn't just go under a different identity, she didn't go at all because she wasn't considered important enough to invite.

In general while we have very little information about this organization, I do think the assumption is that is is composed of people with a more elite status, something Lila doesn't seem to have.

The way I read Lila thus far (of course this could all change in an instant, I mean look at what just happened with Nathalie (not a criticism by the way, I LOVE this new detail about her)) is she is someone desperate for the love and validation of people around her. Her lies are about making people like her, and when it doesn't work that person becomes her enemy.

In season 5 she revels in her fame, but she is clearly considered not very important to people like Gabriel, as mentioned earlier she is not invited to the diamond dance, it seems like she might not have even known about it until Kagami told her, and she is very unhappy about this lack of invitation, the idea that she is "just a stone", and in the end scene where it's revealed she knows Gabriel's identity, she says she wants to prove she's not just some bottle of perfume in a very emotional voice. And again, in Revelation she is replaced by Kagami without even being told about it, and is told by Gabriel that she is nothing.

This all reads to me as Lila not already having this elite status, but instead it being a goal for her, something she is reaching towards.

While I don't think I feel confident in saying Lila is a solo act, I don't think she's working for the secret society, or at the very least not in the conventional sense, and she certainly isn't an important member.

Even with all of this part of me can't fully shake the feeling that she is connected to it somehow though? I'm not sure how extensive the organization is, but I wonder if Lila is just a very low-ranking member. A foot soldier of no real importance to them who is striking out on her own to prove herself and work her way up the ranks. Maybe she has a high ranking parent or parents and she was disowned and is trying to earn her way back. Or maybe I should just shake that feeling of her having some involvement with them, time will tell.

[monstrousgourmandizingcats]

Gotta say, thank you very much for sharing your insights into the 2025 conclave. I love reading them; your takes and bringing into focus people largely overlooked by English speaking media.

I'd love to know where you look for information and (you've probably answered this before but I'll ask anyway) was there anything that you think may have happened prior to the 2013 conclave that influenced appointing Francis as Pope?

Once again thank you for sharing your takes, I'm looking forward to your posts!

Hello!

So to answer your second question first: yes, I know a fair amount about the dynamics leading up to the conclave that elected Francis twelve years ago, although a lot of it is stuff I've actually learned fairly recently. While official balloting counts of papal conclaves do not exist, unofficial counts do tend to emerge afterwards, and from the ones for 2013 we see the future Pope Francis (i.e. Jorge Mario Bergoglio) initially positioned as one of three softcore/mainstream conservative vote-getters, along with Canada's Marc Ouellet and Italy's Angelo Scola. Bergoglio then cannibalizes the votes of moderate cardinals Sean Patrick O'Malley (USA) and Odilo Scherer (Brazil), and finally picks up more and more of Ouellet's supporters until he defeats Scola after five ballots.

This is in part speculative, but the conventional wisdom/widespread educated guess is that Bergoglio started as a Latin American regional favorite who then gradually became the "anyone but Scola" candidate because of how the math shook out. It should be remembered that the 2013 conclave, unlike this year's, was, or at least seemed, fairly ideologically homogeneous; everyone in it had been appointed by John Paul II or Benedict XVI (themselves very similar to each other in most ways), and there was not a clear "progressive" option. What happened with Pope Francis as time went on was that it turned out that the Latin American cultural and theological environment that he came up in, when "scaled up" to the global Church, looked very different from Euro "conservative Catholicism". What we got from that was twelve years of a Pope who didn't actually make any major changes to Catholic doctrine and who had plenty of "hot mic" moments about women or gays of the sort one would expect from an elderly Peronist living and working in Italy, but who was enormously more concerned with what kind of place the Church was--how welcoming it was--for people who just "weren't like" the Central European and Northern Italian aristocrats and academics around John Paul and Benedict.

Also, people forget this today, but as Archbishop of Buenos Aires, Bergoglio came across as much more doctrinaire and conservative, especially on issues related to sex, than he did as Pope. You can still find lots of LGBT South Americans, including LGBT South American Catholics, who have a very different and much less positive opinion of Francis than do similar people from other parts of the world. Suddenly having to deal with a worldwide constituency genuinely changed his way of looking at some things. The same might happen with a successor who isn't as good on these issues (then again it might not). With Cardinal Ambongo (papabile, deeply homophobic but otherwise Francis-aligned Archbishop of Kinshasa in the Democratic Republic of Congo) in particular there are reasons to believe that if he became Pope it'd be politically and logistically very difficult for him to reverse Francis's more pro-LGBT decisions, even though he might want to.

The Latin American cardinals of twelve years ago, who weren't well-understood in the West and who ended up producing, arguably even imposing, a Pope who reigned the way Francis did, are today the African and Asian cardinals who don't like gay people very much and often aren't crazy about women either, but who over the past week have mostly been interested in talking about climate change, decentralizing Church governance structures, and fighting terrorism through interreligious dialogue.

As to where I look for information: I first found these sources by Googling the cardinals' names and reading anything that didn't look like generic Global North boilerplate, but some that I've found that way are ACI Africa, 9News Nigeria, the Australian Broadcasting Corporation, Kaniva Tonga News, Radio New Zealand, the Papua New Guinea Post-Courier, and the Straits Times out of Singapore.

I hope some of this helps/is of interest to you!

[herotome]

Devlog #177

Hi-ho, Wudge here.

I'm gonna try to be rather more transparent than usual in this devlog because aiyaiyai... not gonna lie y'all, I've been feeling a bit disheartened. Not from any one thing! There's no bad guy boogeyman bringing me down! It's just like... woof, game development is a lot.

Some time ago, my country enacted some new policies that forced Paypal to make a lot of changes. I had to (or thought I had to??) get an actual business license and jump through a lot of hoops to make sure I'd still be able to receive and withdraw money from my Paypal account.

For the most part, it all worked out. I'm able to receive money from Ko-Fi and from taking commissions, and I'm able to send money to purchase Herotome's art assets (a new CG and backgrounds are coming along fantastically!)... but ever since the changes, itch.io has consistently had issues with my Paypal account.

I don't know why it's only them. I'm still trying to figure it out. I have a pending ticket with them right now to determine why my most recent itch.io payout has been in review for 65 days.

For a while I tried to switch itch's payouts to Payoneer, but Payoneer charges a yearly fee of $30.00 unless you receive $2,000/year on their platform. I don't have enough itch income to justify the cost.

So I've been trying to switch itch back to paypal and it's been... difficult. It shouldn't be so difficult. It feels shameful that people are trying to support me through itch's site, and their money either never reaches me or goes straight into payoneer's yearly fee.

But if I make a post on itch saying "Hey, itch isn't working well with me on the financial side, you can support me on Ko-Fi instead!"... then I have to draw and post more Ko-Fi expressions, and I'm already so behind on those.

You may be thinking "Well, forget about itch! You can put Herotome on steam instead!" but putting a game on steam also involves jumping through a lot of hoops - to the point where there's services that offer to do it for you (so you'll have to pay the steam fee and for the service).

... So I guess that's a big part of my stress and disheartening feelings right now lol, I have boogeymen after all and they are itch and paypal. But uh, I'm also struggling with feelings of the game feeling like a neverending Sisyphian task, no matter how much I write or how much progress I make, it's never enough...

You guys would probably enjoy playing what I'm working on right now though, right? I have to try and hold onto that thought. I have a few fun scenes mostly done. I don't have expressions coded for any of them...... but writing-wise, I think they're pretty good. Maybe I can hire someone to code in preliminary expressions. It'd be a lot of work for me to onboard, give them context and access to assets, but it could be worth it. I'll think it over

Uhhh. Okay, things I actually did last week -

I rewrote a scene to give Warden more agency; the player now gets a brief 1x1 scene to talk with him BEFORE the free time LI-selection section, and I think y'all will like it.

I also drew a new expression for nurse Jordan

This is how I feel about my payout drama with itch. Hahahaha. Ahh...

Hopefully my ticket gets resolved soon and everything works out smoothly from now on, so I can concentrate more on the actual game.

Stay safe and keep warm,

Wudge.

[chiropteracupola]

Make me a boat of elm and I’ll row myself to sea / Soon I’d miss the anchor that never let me leave / Thinking on my darling, lonesome at the helm / Oh, make me a boat of elm, a boat of elm...

my half of an art trade with the amazing @emilybeemartin — here's Colm, from her trilogy Creatures of Light! ...from longstanding tradition, we know full well that I will always be found drawing the most melancholic boatsguy you have on hand.

[front-facing-pokemon]

[pekoeboo]

man. I've been reworking a lot of content involving Act II of Home Is Where You Are and like. ugh. it'd work so freaking well in novel form but I just Do Not have the dedication or the drive to start from scratch and rewrite everything that happens.

idk how else to share the updated version of that part of the story with y'all tho, considering that Khalan's journal is insanely outdated now and isn't entirely canon anymore, so I'll probably just have to accept that I likely won't ever be able to update the story for y'all in the way I wish I could. >n<;;

[pidgefudge]

hmm

[coffeebanana]

who do i petition to acquire more hours in a day?

[neverendingford]

.

[archaeren]

How I learned to write smarter, not harder

(aka, how to write when you're hella ADHD lol)

A reader commented on my current long fic asking how I write so well. I replied with an essay of my honestly pretty non-standard writing advice (that they probably didn't actually want lol) Now I'm gonna share it with you guys and hopefully there's a few of you out there who will benefit from my past mistakes and find some useful advice in here. XD Since I started doing this stuff, which are all pretty easy changes to absorb into your process if you want to try them, I now almost never get writer's block.

The text of the original reply is indented, and I've added some additional commentary to expand upon and clarify some of the concepts.

As for writing well, I usually attribute it to the fact that I spent roughly four years in my late teens/early 20s writing text roleplay with a friend for hours every single day. Aside from the constant practice that provided, having a live audience immediately reacting to everything I wrote made me think a lot about how to make as many sentences as possible have maximum impact so that I could get that kind of fun reaction. (Which is another reason why comments like yours are so valuable to fanfic writers! <3) The other factors that have improved my writing are thus: 1. Writing nonlinearly. I used to write a whole story in order, from the first sentence onward. If there was a part I was excited to write, I slogged through everything to get there, thinking that it would be my reward once I finished everything that led up to that. It never worked. XD It was miserable. By the time I got to the part I wanted to write, I had beaten the scene to death in my head imagining all the ways I could write it, and it a) no longer interested me and b) could not live up to my expectations because I couldn't remember all my ideas I'd had for writing it. The scene came out mediocre and so did everything leading up to it. Since then, I learned through working on VN writing (I co-own a game studio and we have some visual novels that I write for) that I don't have to write linearly. If I'm inspired to write a scene, I just write it immediately. It usually comes out pretty good even in a first draft! But then I also have it for if I get more ideas for that scene later, and I can just edit them in. The scenes come out MUCH stronger because of this. And you know what else I discovered? Those scenes I slogged through before weren't scenes I had no inspiration for, I just didn't have any inspiration for them in that moment! I can't tell you how many times there was a scene I had no interest in writing, and then a week later I'd get struck by the perfect inspiration for it! Those are scenes I would have done a very mediocre job on, and now they can be some of the most powerful scenes because I gave them time to marinate. Inspiration isn't always linear, so writing doesn't have to be either!

Some people are the type that joyfully write linearly. I have a friend like this--she picks up the characters and just continues playing out the next scene. Her story progresses through the entire day-by-day lives of the characters; it never timeskips more than a few hours. She started writing and posting just eight months ago, she's about an eighth of the way through her planned fic timeline, and the content she has so far posted to AO3 for it is already 450,000 words long. But most of us are normal humans. We're not, for the most part, wired to create linearly. We consume linearly, we experience linearly, so we assume we must also create linearly. But actually, a lot of us really suffer from trying to force ourselves to create this way, and we might not even realize it. If you're the kind of person who thinks you need to carrot-on-a-stick yourself into writing by saving the fun part for when you finally write everything that happens before it: Stop. You're probably not a linear writer. You're making yourself suffer for no reason and your writing is probably suffering for it. At least give nonlinear writing a try before you assume you can't write if you're not baiting or forcing yourself into it!! Remember: Writing is fun. You do this because it's fun, because it's your hobby. If you're miserable 80% of the time you're doing it, you're probably doing it wrong!

2. Rereading my own work. I used to hate reading my own work. I wouldn't even edit it usually. I would write it and slap it online and try not to look at it again. XD Writing nonlinearly forced me to start rereading because I needed to make sure scenes connected together naturally and it also made it easier to get into the headspace of the story to keep writing and fill in the blanks and get new inspiration. Doing this built the editing process into my writing process--I would read a scene to get back in the headspace, dislike what I had written, and just clean it up on the fly. I still never ever sit down to 'edit' my work. I just reread it to prep for writing and it ends up editing itself. Many many scenes in this fic I have read probably a dozen times or more! (And now, I can actually reread my own work for enjoyment!) Another thing I found from doing this that it became easy to see patterns and themes in my work and strengthen them. Foreshadowing became easy. Setting up for jokes or plot points became easy. I didn't have to plan out my story in advance or write an outline, because the scenes themselves because a sort of living outline on their own. (Yes, despite all the foreshadowing and recurring thematic elements and secret hidden meanings sprinkled throughout this story, it actually never had an outline or a plan for any of that. It's all a natural byproduct of writing nonlinearly and rereading.)

Unpopular writing opinion time: You don't need to make a detailed outline.

Some people thrive on having an outline and planning out every detail before they sit down to write. But I know for a lot of us, we don't know how to write an outline or how to use it once we've written it. The idea of making one is daunting, and the advice that it's the only way to write or beat writer's block is demoralizing. So let me explain how I approach "outlining" which isn't really outlining at all.

I write in a Notion table, where every scene is a separate table entry and the scene is written in the page inside that entry. I do this because it makes writing nonlinearly VASTLY more intuitive and straightforward than writing in a single document. (If you're familiar with Notion, this probably makes perfect sense to you. If you're not, imagine something a little like a more contained Google Sheets, but every row has a title cell that opens into a unique Google Doc when you click on it. And it's not as slow and clunky as the Google suite lol) (Edit from the future: I answered an ask with more explanation on how I use Notion for non-linear writing here.) When I sit down to begin a new fic idea, I make a quick entry in the table for every scene I already know I'll want or need, with the entries titled with a couple words or a sentence that describes what will be in that scene so I'll remember it later. Basically, it's the most absolute bare-bones skeleton of what I vaguely know will probably happen in the story.

Then I start writing, wherever I want in the list. As I write, ideas for new scenes and new connections and themes will emerge over time, and I'll just slot them in between the original entries wherever they naturally fit, rearranging as necessary, so that I won't forget about them later when I'm ready to write them. As an example, my current long fic started with a list of roughly 35 scenes that I knew I wanted or needed, for a fic that will probably be around 100k words (which I didn't know at the time haha). As of this writing, it has expanded to 129 scenes. And since I write them directly in the page entries for the table, the fic is actually its own outline, without any additional effort on my part. As I said in the comment reply--a living outline!

This also made it easier to let go of the notion that I had to write something exactly right the first time. (People always say you should do this, but how many of us do? It's harder than it sounds! I didn't want to commit to editing later! I didn't want to reread my work! XD) I know I'm going to edit it naturally anyway, so I can feel okay giving myself permission to just write it approximately right and I can fix it later. And what I found from that was that sometimes what I believed was kind of meh when I wrote it was actually totally fine when I read it later! Sometimes the internal critic is actually wrong. 3. Marinating in the headspace of the story. For the first two months I worked on [fic], I did not consume any media other than [fandom the fic is in]. I didn't watch, read, or play anything else. Not even mobile games. (And there wasn't really much fan content for [fandom] to consume either. Still isn't, really. XD) This basically forced me to treat writing my story as my only source of entertainment, and kept me from getting distracted or inspired to write other ideas and abandon this one.

As an aside, I don't think this is a necessary step for writing, but if you really want to be productive in a short burst, I do highly recommend going on a media consumption hiatus. Not forever, obviously! Consuming media is a valuable tool for new inspiration, and reading other's work (both good and bad, as long as you think critically to identify the differences!) is an invaluable resource for improving your writing.

When I write, I usually lay down, close my eyes, and play the scene I'm interested in writing in my head. I even take a ten-minute nap now and then during this process. (I find being in a state of partial drowsiness, but not outright sleepiness, makes writing easier and better. Sleep helps the brain process and make connections!) Then I roll over to the laptop next to me and type up whatever I felt like worked for the scene. This may mean I write half a sentence at a time between intervals of closed-eye-time XD

People always say if you're stuck, you need to outline.

What they actually mean by that (whether they realize it or not) is that if you're stuck, you need to brainstorm. You need to marinate. You don't need to plan what you're doing, you just need to give yourself time to think about it!

What's another framing for brainstorming for your fic? Fantasizing about it! Planning is work, but fantasizing isn't.

You're already fantasizing about it, right? That's why you're writing it. Just direct that effort toward the scenes you're trying to write next! Close your eyes, lay back, and fantasize what the characters do and how they react.

And then quickly note down your inspirations so you don't forget, haha.

And if a scene is so boring to you that even fantasizing about it sucks--it's probably a bad scene.

If it's boring to write, it's going to be boring to read. Ask yourself why you wanted that scene. Is it even necessary? Can you cut it? Can you replace it with a different scene that serves the same purpose but approaches the problem from a different angle? If you can't remove the troublesome scene, what can you change about it that would make it interesting or exciting for you to write?

And I can't write sitting up to save my damn life. It's like my brain just stops working if I have to sit in a chair and stare at a computer screen. I need to be able to lie down, even if I don't use it! Talking walks and swinging in a hammock are also fantastic places to get scene ideas worked out, because the rhythmic motion also helps our brain process. It's just a little harder to work on a laptop in those scenarios. XD

In conclusion: Writing nonlinearly is an amazing tool for kicking writer's block to the curb. There's almost always some scene you'll want to write. If there isn't, you need to re-read or marinate.

Or you need to use the bathroom, eat something, or sleep. XD Seriously, if you're that stuck, assess your current physical condition. You might just be unable to focus because you're uncomfortable and you haven't realized it yet.

Anyway! I hope that was helpful, or at least interesting! XD Sorry again for the text wall. (I think this is the longest comment reply I've ever written!)

And same to you guys on tumblr--I hope this was helpful or at least interesting. XD Reblogs appreciated if so! (Maybe it'll help someone else!)

[valiasims]

Cozy Cabin Collection - Nursery

Hey everyone!

Sorry for the delay I was working a lot on this to be the way I wanted it to be but here it is! The next part of the Cozy Cabin Colletion is the nursery.

This time I wanted to bring a cozy, bear themed nursery with neutral colors and elements that represent nature.

This set has started a little difficult and I had to change some things because I wanted to include windows too but I realized there are so many things I want to make that the windows have to be left out this time. So I basically wasted a 3-4 days. Technically those days aren't wasted because I'll include the windows hopefully in the next set but I had less time for the items in this set.

I had a rough time with the curtains because at first these looked more thrown on the crib but I discovered that the arch is exactly the same as some in-game arched windows and I wanted them to be useable more ways so I redid them to be more curtainy. This inspired me to do arched windows so maybe I'll do them next, I'm not sure yet.

So about the items. I made these arches with the wooden frames to go together as you can see. All of them come in all 3 wall heights. The best to place them with half tile placement turned on with the F5 key.

I added 3 different furniture to slot into the wooden frames. You can mix and match these however you like or use them separately. With the half tile placement you can put them next to each other perfectly. 2 of them are shelves and one is a dresser with dresser functionality.

I mentioned the curtains the fit perfectly under the arch so you can use them like a canopy above the crib.

The changing table is base game and functional.

(The armchair and deco cushion is from the previous Entryway set.)

I think that's it, please let me know how you like it and if you have any errors, problems let me know as well! Hope you have a nice day/night and enjoy this set as much as I loved to create it. Despite some things being difficult I really enjoyed doing these items and this is my favourite collection I've done so far.

The Set Includes

Crib

Changing Table

Wooden Arch (3 heights)

Wooden Frame (3 heights, Left and Right variation)

Dresser

Shelves (2 variations, with tree design, without tree design)

Sheer Curtains

Bear Lights (3 heights)

Baby Blankets

Stack of Books

Children's Books

Lying Bear Plushie

Sitting Bear Plushie

Wooden Bears Family Deco

Round Rug

-DOWNLOAD HERE- Public release on the 17th of December 6PM CST

[thedevotionaltour]

in terms of art alone im sorry. im a jrjr defender to my last breath you be fucking nice to him. i dont wanna hear shit❗️❗️❗️

[kaijutegu]

Aug ABSOLUTELY deserves the praise, @ryukikit. St. Augustine Alligator Farm is one of my favorite animal facilities, hands down. It's a pretty zoo, doable in an afternoon if you kinda like crocodilians, or an all day affair if you REALLY like crocodilians. Here are my favorite things about it and why I think it's worth supporting.

1. They keep animals in interesting social groups.

Crocodilians are heavily involved parents, but most places that breed them don't have the enclosure space to let the babies stay with the parents. St. Augustine does. One of my favorite groups was their crèche of slender-snouted crocodiles. They had the parents and then a yearling cohort and a new hatchling cohort. This aligns with how these guys live in the wild- the babies stick around longer! They have the space for it, and they are very in tune with the social needs of their animals.

Very, very few zoos can keep their baby crocs with the adults and still perform maintenance and animal health checks safely. This doesn't mean these facilities are bad- it just means that they have different management practices. And frankly, a lot of these species aren't frequently bred elsewhere. Your average zoo doesn't need a setup where you can have a multiyear crèche for slender-snouted crocodiles. Some species have better success when the young are pulled early, and some zoos are better set up to raise out any offspring separately or behind the scenes. Every facility's practices are different, and this just happens to work well at St. Augustine and be really enjoyable to see as a zoo patron.

Crocodilians are exceptional parents and very protective. It's a sign of incredible animal management practices and animals that feel very comfortable with staff that St. Augustine can do this with nearly every species they breed.

2. They understand the social needs of their animals.

Some crocodilians are social. Some are solitary. Some can live happily with a member of the opposite sex but get territorial around members of the same sex. St. Augustine pays incredible attention to their social groupings to ensure that they aren't just meeting the animals' physical health needs but their social needs as well. They do continuous scientific research about social structures in crocodilians, taking blood samples to test stress hormones and observing stress behaviors to see how group dynamics change.

For example, St. Augustine is home to one of the world's largest known living saltwater crocodiles, Maximo. And his comparatively tiny mate, Sydney. During the educational presentations with these two, they point out that even their monster of a croc needs his social group- he won't eat if she's not around and he is calmer during medical checks if he can see her. These animal share a deep and special pair bond, and they make sure to talk about how the social aspect of these animals' lives is integral to their care. It's a unique aspect of the way they talk about these animals, because he IS a spectacle and he IS a sensation, but they don't talk about him like he's a mindless killing machine- they talk about him like he's a big, complex predator with social needs like any other animal. Aug is the only facility I've been to where the emotional and social needs of crocodilians is part of the education they provide guests- and speaking of education...

3. Their demos and presentations are extremely good.

The presentations at St. Augustine are some of the best I've ever seen, and I've seen literally hundreds of animal talks on everything from aardvarks to zebras. But as you... can probably tell from my blog content, I've spent a lot of time learning about and working with reptiles. I really enjoyed all of their presentations because they are very scientific about things and avoid sensationalism. They really want you to be fascinated by these creatures and love them- but more than anything else, they want you to respect them.

Also, they do a really good job handling their ambassadors. I really enjoyed something as simple as watching an educator tell us about snakes. Throughout the whole presentation she made sure that most of the snake's body was looped in her hand. The snake was always supported and was very calm. She gave the snake plenty of head room so that it didn't feel constricted- it was just good handling all around.

But also, the presentations made it clear how much the park cares about the animals' well-being. When they do the feeding and training presentations, they make it very clear that the animals' participation is entirely voluntary. They do things differently for their 9-foot saltie and their 16-foot saltie, because the 16-footer is so large and heavy he actually struggles walking on land sometimes. They adapt their programs and his care to ensure that he's completely comfortable- and he didn't actually participate in the whole feeding when I was watching! At no point did they try to push him into anything uncomfortable; they offered, he didn't engage, and they moved on. It was a clear expression of his boundaries, and I really appreciated how much his caretakers respected that.

4. Ethical Interactions

I've been to... a lot of tourist locations in Florida that have animals you can hold. Almost always against my will! Many of them are pretty terrible, and you don't actually learn much, if anything. But I really found that to not be the case at St. Augustine. Every single animal presentation and interaction opportunity was accompanied by education about the animal's biology, habits, and- crucially- their conservation status.

When I held a baby alligator at St. Augustine, the proctors- there were two, one to ensure I was holding the gator correctly and the other to educate- were very informative about the role alligators play in their ecosystem and their conservation history. The animals were all properly banded, and one of the two proctors was there to ensure that none of the baby alligators were uncomfortable. As soon as they started getting squirmy or tense, they were removed, unbanded, and taken to an off-exhibit area to relax. And when the babies age out of petting size, they just go in the lagoon to live with others of their species. I saw one upset alligator the entire time I was there, and he was clearly upset that his escape attempt was foiled by a keeper during my nursery tour.

Even though he's restrained in this shot, you can see that his full body and tail are supported, and the grip, while firm, is gentle. He's distressed, but after I took this picture, she put him in his enclosure and he calmed down immediately.

Sometimes when you have petting attractions with baby animals, those animals... don't have a happy ending. (See: cub petting.) But St. Augustine's program is fine- the gators are all aged out of wanting to have mom around, there's no declawing/defanging, and they're handled with care. And it's worth it, because people love what they understand. St. Augustine was integral in raising public awareness about alligators back in the 60s when they were endangered, and now they're thriving- largely in part to programs like St. Augustine getting people to care.

And speaking of getting people to care, let's talk about their research.

5. Shared Research Results

St. Augustine is also home to more species of crocodilian than anywhere else in North America- all of them, usually. (They didn't have a Tomistoma when I visited- that may have changed.)

Because of this species diversity, it's an incredible research resource. Having every species means that you can do a lot of work comparing their behaviors, their growth patterns, and more. They've been a major research site for crocodilian biology since the 1970s. Today, they're one of the key sites for studying crocodilian play and social behaviors. They actually maintain a blog where they post copies of papers that were written using their animals, meaning that you can actually see the results of the research your admission helps fund. You can see that right here: https://www.alligatorfarm.com/conservation-research/research-blog/

All of this adds up to a zoo that provides a unique experience, tons of actual education, and transparency about what its research and conservation steps actually are. St. Augustine's come a long way since its opening in 1893, and they really do want you to leave with a new respect for the animals they care for. Ultimately, if you're a fan of reptiles, you can feel good about visiting the St. Augustine Alligator Farm- their care and keeping are top of the line, they do a ton of innovative conservation research and support for conservation organizations, and you can see this animal there:

(Gharial from the front. Nothing is wrong with her that's just what they look like from the front.)

[heesmiles]

୨ৎ. INVISIBLE STRING p.sh

ᨳ ׄ ׅ ꒰ 45k ꒱⠀ ‎ູㅤ ‎ིྀ ⸺ word count.

𝓹airings 𝜗𝜚 soulmate ! sunghoon ៹ fem ! reader ᧁ ; smut ˒ supernatural? ˒ red string theory ˒ office romance

𝔀arnings ꒱ . smut angst graphic depictions of injuries grandparent/parental death death in general

𝓲n which ⑅ ㅤׄ ⠀ ‎𓈒 alexa play ❝ invisible string ❞ by taylor swift ‎ིྀ ⸺ They say when someone you love dies it takes a piece of who you were and a piece of who you were going to be. You met the love of your life the day you died; and it took something from you. It changed who you were and you don’t know if you’d ever want it back. Sunghoon was tied to you, two tangled souls connected by one invisible red string but you didn’t know it, until it was too late.

★ ! 𝓻ain's mic is on ── iykyk about this fic fr...I've been working on this bad boy since like the beginning of December...which If you know me is a while. I've stopped writing it for a while but randomly I just knew I needed too pick it back up and finish it. I'm sorry in advance for the use of y/n (i started this before i stopped using it, sorry guys). I love this story line so much and the amount of pure thought I put into is...it's a lot. I hope you all enjoy it and love it just as much as I do. thank you.

They say when someone you love dies it takes a piece of who you were and a piece of who you were going to be. Lying on her deathbed your grandmother hands you a small red bracelet, one so flimsy you felt as if it could snap between your fingertips. Dainty like a small red string. And with the last few breaths that she had left in her she told you something you would never forget. “This bracelet is a representation of what I'm about to take from you.” She took a deep agonizing breath before continuing. “When I die, I will take some of your joy, some of your light. I Don't want to but I will. This red string here represents what is to come, who is to come and when it becomes important to you, because it will. Think of me and what I've always told you about your very own red string of fate.” 

The words left her mouth in a sigh. Her eyes closed peacefully as your heart shattered. Taking the string you wrapped it around your wrist vowing to never let it go. 

5 years later. 

You were going to be late.The rain served as a catalyst to your anger and resentment of this day. Looking outside of your cramped apartment window to see it pouring rain when you have to walk to work has put a severe damper on your already more than pissy mood. Not including the fact that you were up at all hours of the night because the thin material of your walls in this run down apartment building left very little to be desired, especially when it came to your neighbors very active love life. 

Pounding on the wall had been no help as the screams of their pleasure just grew, almost as if they were trying to spite you. Spite you because it was four in the morning and you had to be up in three hours and spite you because a very small part of you was jealous that your neighbor was getting laid and you weren’t and hadn’t for well over a year now. So, in turn, waking up when the sun was only beginning to rise was a very new form of hell you hadn’t yet experienced. 

Rolling yourself out of bed, brushing your teeth and making yourself look somewhat presentable was the equivalent of hauling a two ton car up a flight of stairs but you did it. You walked down the sidewalk raincoat over your head as you tried your best at keeping the rain from soaking your straightened hair. Finally approaching the crosswalk you were relieved to see it had not been crowded this morning. Which was rather unusual for a monday morning in seoul but you would take your wins as they came. 

A man stood at the crosswalk, phone in hand not paying you even a single glance. He was beautiful. You could definitely admit that and his attire for the day had told you that he was dressed for a day at the office. His dark hair was a stark contrast to his very light skin. His face dotted with the cutest little moles you had ever seen. He was a sight to behold, captivatingly beautiful. 

Not wanting to seem like a creep for staring, you turned your head downwards, fiddling with the red string bracelet you had worn every second of everyday for the last five years since your grandmother died. The light had turned green finally signaling for you to walk after what seemed like forever of waiting in awkward silence next to what might be the most beautiful man you would ever live to see. The rain continued its assault on you, pelting down hard and fast. 

Your rain boots sloshed as you walked. 

But suddenly you felt the snap, very lightly you felt the singular snap of the red string on your wrist. It had come undone and like a scene in a movie it had fallen before your eyes in slow motion. Falling to the rain soaked pavement of the very busy street you were crossing. You knew it was dumb, stupid even but still you bent down reaching for the string and again, like a scene in a movie hearing the voice of the beautiful man calling out for you to watch out and the screech of the van tires hurtling towards you were heard just a second too late, it was dark. 

You were scared of death as much as the next person. More afraid of not knowing what happens after you die. If you say that death doesn’t scare you, you're lying. How can you not be afraid of what you don’t know? It was a thought you truly couldn't fathom. 

With a gasp of breath and a pound in your head you had escaped death. Opening your eyes to the sun glaring in them penetrating your closed eyelids. “Woah! Are you ok?” A voice asked you. You had finally noticed a hand tightly gripping your wrist. Opening your eyes you're met with the most beautiful man you had ever seen…again? Groggily you looked around noticing you were no longer on the street but on the sidewalk. “What happened?” You groaned holding your head. “It feels like I've been hit by a truck.” 

With his hand still on your wrist the man helped you up “You just fell over” He murmured. The tiny red string on his wrist caught you off guard. You could think of nothing else as you stared down at it. You glanced down at your own wrist only to notice that it was bare, you weren’t wearing the red bracelet your grandmother had given you. “Where did you get that?” You asked, yanking your hand from his hold. “Why do you have my bracelet?” 

“What?” He questioned with shock. “This is mine.” 

“But..” You stammered out “I had one just like it and it's missing.” Your head was pounding so hard you had begun to feel it behind your eyelids. 

“I’m sorry yours is missing but this is from my grandfather.” with your head still aching you decided to let it go. He seemed genuine and you didn’t have the vitality to argue with him any further. 

“Are you alright?” The man said once again. Nodding you dusted your clothing off noticing the now beautiful clear sky. 

“Where did the rain go?” You asked. He looked confused again, an expression you were now deeming adorable on him. You may be a little woozy but a girl would always recognize an attractive man when presented to her. 

“It hasn’t rained today” He said, you really wish you could know his name. “Are you sure you're alright?” He cautiously inquired. Nodding once again you had half a mind to look down at your watch, your mind fleeting again to the fact that your wrist was now bare. Your red missing bracelet was something you were definitely going to agonize over later but for now, you were most certainly going to be late. On your very first day of the job. 

“I’m alright!” You squeaked out. “I’ve got to go” You made your way safely across the street before deciding to make a dash for it. You had exactly four minutes to make it there in time and it was a little over six minute walk. Speeding down the sidewalk you had no time to mull over what the hell just happened. 

You could have sworn to the high heavens that it was raining and that you most definitely had your bracelet on when you left your apartment this morning and you vaguely remembered walking across the street and your bracelet breaking. Shaking the thought off you finally arrived. Only looking up at the building for a split second before rushing inside. 

“Hi” You breathed heavily to the receptionist. “I’m here for my first day in-” 

“Are you Y/n L/n” She cut you off, her voice laced with disinterest for anything you would have to say beside yes or no. 

“Yes” Deciding to be curt as to not upset her more. 

“Floor nine. Minji will see you through.” She slapped a white badge onto the countertop in front of you. “Here’s your badge, have a wonderful career at seoul inc.” Contrary to her cheery words her voice was monotonous, lacking any depth or feeling. Dumbly nodding your head you took the white badge in your hands and made your way to the elevator. 

“Floor nine, floor nine” You whispered to yourself over and over again. 

The elevator ride was short and sweet, just how you liked it. You hated when elevators took forever it gave you time to become anxious and becoming anxious was the last thing you wanted to do today. Your head still reeled for the events that took place not even twenty whole minutes ago and adding on a bout of anxiety really would do you no justice. 

In true cliche fashion you allowed yourself a small pep talk. Reassuring yourself that everything would be ok, that you had landed the job so at least someone here liked you enough to hire you. Everything would be A OK, as your grandmother always said. 

Arriving at the front desk you’re met with a lot more peppy woman. Short probably in her mid to late fifties this woman looked to have lived and loved ten times over. A small pang rang through your chest as the warmth radiating from this woman had reminded you of your grandmother. The small desk plate in front of her read ‘minji’ and right then and there you knew you were in the right place. 

“Hello” You spoke as professionally as you could. “I’m Y/n L/n and I'm here for my first day.” MInji smiled at you, the warmth once again seeping into your bones. Instantaneously your anxiety and worries almost completely dissipated. 

“Hello dear, you're just in time!” She grabbed a few papers from her pile on her desk in front of her then swung out of her chair. “Mr. Park seems to be a few minutes late so i’ll quickly introduce you to a few of your colleagues that are a part of your team.” Following closely behind her you felt a wave of giddiness overcome you. Starting anew to you, had felt like starting a new life. You were so excited to kick it into full gear. Especially with the little to no support from your family back at home. 

Knowing that you would not be coming home to help run their shop had made them make the ultimate decision of disowning you. Not that they had ever truly been proud of who you were to begin with. Being an only child of two adults that never wanted children in the first place had always left you feeling a hole in your heart with a parent's love should fill. Luckily for you, you had your grandmother who had acted as your mother and father figure all rolled into one. Your grandfather having passed away only a year after your birth and your grandmother never remarrying had made the two of you's relationship that much stronger. It had only really been the two of you together all the time. 

Especially because your parents were always away at the shop. Tending to and looking after the only thing they truly loved. Having a child was never in their plans and boy did they make that obvious. They looked at you as a legacy for their business and when you had broken the news to tell them it wouldn't happen, well they just had no use for you then. They discarded you like a broken toy in their very coveted and well respected toy shop. Ironic isn't it? 

Running a toy shop but never wanting children, neglecting your own. The irony had always been daunting. Most people around you had assumed you had the best childhood. They assumed you had a childhood full of wonderful toys and parents who cherished you and showered you with the marvelous gifts that they sold but they were wrong. Very wrong. It had made you a person who no longer judged books by their covers because after all looks can be deceiving. 

Your father had grown up with a fascination for toys and collectables and he never truly outgrew that as an adult. Instead he turned it into a hobby and then into a career dragging your mother along until she learned to love it just as much as he did. 

“Alrighty” Minji said with exhilaration. “This right here will be your cubicle.” She pointed to a reasonably sized cubicle, its contents almost completely empty save for your basic office supplies like a computer, chair and pencil holder full of pens and pencils. “Decorate it however you would like. Being the visual department we always expect you guys to have the most put together cubicles.” She smiled at you warmly. Gesturing you to follow her only a few steps further she pointed to another cubicle, this one now occupied. “This is Wonyoung, she's one of your partners.” 

“Busy.” Wonyoung said pointedly typing away at her computer. 

“She’s a sweet girl when she's caffeinated.” Minji laughed, “Hun, I have some fresh coffee brewing for you in the lounge, go grab a cup.” 

“Minji, I could kiss you, I'm exhausted.” Wonyoung rose from her seat. For a moment you were stunned by her pure beauty. She wore a knitted dress that fell to the middle of her thighs, and a long sleeve turtleneck underneath it. Her hair in two braids on either side of her head. 

“Nice to meet you by the way” a radiant smile graced her features. “Jay is that way. I’m excited to be working with another girl. I’m soooo tired of being surrounded by men, yuck.” She stuck her tongue out mockingly before be-lining for what you could only assume was the lounge. 

“Let me take you to jay.” Minji made her way down only two more cubicles before stopping in front of another one. This time occupied by a man, who you assumed was Jay. 

“Good morning Mrs. Lee” Jay chirped, his expression was radiating all things positive. You had already felt safe around him. 

“Good morning sweetheart this is Y/n the new cover designer and a part of your team. I wanted to introduce you guys before Sunghoon arrived.” 

“Hi Y/n” Jay waved “Nice to meet you.” 

You nodded at him, taking a slight bow. “Nice to meet you too.” 

“Sunghoon isnt here yet?” Jay’s eyebrows scrunched up in confusion looking around the two of you probably in search of Sunghoon. 

“Not yet but I'm sure he’ll be strolling in at any minute. You all have a meeting in” Minji looked down at her watch “Three minutes. He’ll be here if he’s not already in his office getting ready.” 

“He hasn’t come down to meet Y/n yet?” 

“No, not yet. I’m sure he’s waiting until you guys meet.” Standing there dumbly as you waited for them to finish their conversation a sense of once again, anxiety hit you like a wave. You assumed the Sunghoon they were referring to was your boss but what kind of boss didn’t come down to meet their new employees? One that he would be working with closely might you add. It set a strong precedent to who this man was and truthfully that worried you a bit. You had gotten such good first impressions from Minji, Jay and Wonyoung so much so that you were beginning to become even more excited to work alongside them. But none of that really mattered if your boss was a grade A asshole. Having a shit boss made your life in the workplace hell. Something you were mature enough to admit scared the hell out of you. 

You were only hoping and praying that Sunghoon was a super perfectionist and took his time making sure that these meetings ran smoothly rather than a man who, with power, made it extremely difficult to coexist with them. 

“It’s about that time anyway” Jay rose from his seat grabbing his coffee cup in his hand. “I’ll take Y/n with me to the meeting room Minji, go sit back down and relax.” Minji smiled at Jay reaching her hand to lightly pat his cheek affectionately. 

“Thank you sweetheart.” Turning to you she handed you the papers she had brought with her. “Good luck Y/n, you let me know if you need anything ok?” tilting your head in agreement you took the papers from her outstretched hands. Thanking her quietly as she walked back down the room of cubicles. 

“Sweetest woman you'll ever meet, I swear.” Jay said. “Come on. Wonyoung is most likely already there we can mee-” 

Not being able to control your motor-like mouth you blurt out the one thing on your mind since discussing your boss, completely cutting Jay off in the process. 

“Is he mean?” You knew how childish it sounded. It was like setting up a playdate with your friends at five years old. Quizzing them to find out if their parents were ‘meanies” like yours. But honestly, you didn't care. You needed to know even if that made you sound like a kid in the process. 

“Sunghoon?” Jay’s surprise at your question did not go unnoticed but once again you couldn't find it in yourself to care. The question was a pressing matter you would argue. 

“He’s …” He took his time to find his words “He’s a bit standoffish but once you get to know him he's a really nice guy.” 

His words had not soothed your worries at all. In total honesty they had only worsened the pit of perturbation brewing in your belly. You would try everything you could at ensuring that Sunghoon liked you, or at least tolerated you enough to show you respect. It might be dumb to make all of these bold assumptions before knowing the man but you couldn't help your wondering and worrying mind. 

It was how you operated, how you got by in life. You had always been that way and you didn't see not for a second you not being that way. 

“Really” Jay assured you as the two of you began your descent towards what you were hoping was not your demise “He’s harmless. He acts more like an asshole than he is.” 

“You'd call your boss an asshole out loud?” You asked in astonishment. 

“Me and Sunghoon have been friends for as long as I can remember. There is not even an ounce of me that is intimidated by him.” Jay's ability to be calm and collected had left you a bit envious. This was the worst part about starting a new job. Adjusting. 

Getting adjusted to new people, new surroundings and new procedures was taxing, it was something you dreaded when starting a new job. 

“And you shouldn't be either.” Jay continued, but before you could respond you had arrived at the meeting room. The clear windows had allowed you to see inside. Stopping in your tracks you were sure you looked like a deer in headlights. 

“Who is that?” You asked Jay pointing to the man that stood at the head of the table sifting through papers in front of him. 

“That’s Sunghoon.”

The words had made your heart drop to your stomach. That was the beautiful man from this morning. The one who had picked you up off the ground. The one wearing your red bracelet. Well, according to him it wasn't yours but that was still to be determined. Here he was standing just inside this room, as your new boss. 

A part of you had felt slightly relieved. The sunghoon you had met this morning wasn't at all Standoffish or rude. He was kind and although being confused and then accused of taking your bracelet he still had not shown any disdain or attitude towards you.

Maybe this wouldn't be so bad afterall and Jay was just exaggerating about him because they were friends. You had hope. 

Feeling a bit of whiplash from all the events that had led up to this moment. You were certain that you had woken up to the rain pelting your windows and roof but instead the air was clear and sunny. You walking out of your apartment with the red bracelet on your wrist was almost irrefutable but still your wrist is left bare. You had imagined your bracelet falling onto the floor but you hadn't even reached the street yet when you woke up on the ground, Sunghoon hovering over you. 

Opening the door to the room you stepped inside. Wonyoung sat on a chair to the right and Jay circled around sitting directly across from her, sending a shy smile her way. 

“Dude, where have you been?” Jay asked. Sunghoon hadn't looked up from his papers just yet. He blew a gush of air from his lips shaking his head almost bitterly. “I had the weirdest dream last night then this morning a woman fell-” The words died in his throat as his head rose, his eyes meeting yours. An expression similar to the one you had outside the doors of the meeting room. Like a deer in freaking headlights. The expression had only lasted a short second before he dropped it, a now stoic one taking its place. 

“Goodmorning.” You said shyly. “I’m doing fine by th-” cutting you off Sunghoon sat down in his chair, clearing his throat loudly. 

“Good Morning Ms. L/n find yourself a seat so we can get started.” 

You didn’t miss the axiomatic expressions of confusion written all over Jay’s and Wonyoung’s face. They weren't stupid. They knew without a doubt how strange this interaction was. They did the smart thing and ignored it. For now. 

A squeak of surprise left your lips, the confusion written all over your face probably very evident. 

Sitting in the nearest chair the overarching feeling of dread seeped back in. Clouding your mind. You reached down out of habit to grab your bracelet but you were met with the coldness of your bare skin. Bile rose in your throat but you did your best to suppress it. Choking it down like acid. 

Jay and Wonyoung looked uneasy in their seats but still, they decided to say nothing. For that, you were grateful. Trying to explain what had just transpired would be a dumpster fire situation that you had no knack for at the moment. 

“I’m Park Sunghoon. You can call me Sunghoon, I'm the director of the seoul magazine visual team and Jay, wonyong and yourself work directly under me. We are considered a team, so we must work as such. I expect that from you, have I been heard?” You nodded, not daring to utter a single word. 

“I understand you were hired for cover design, correct?” Sunghoon opened a manilla folder in front of him which contained only what you could assume was your previous works. He began sifting through the pages analyzing every single one with potent accuracy. 

“Y-yes” You cursed yourself for stuttering, for allowing this man to take your wits from you. He had shaken you to your core at his contrast of personality. Although you had only met Sunghoon today and knew very little of the man you had a crippling wonder of who Sunghoon really was. Was he the man you had met this morning? The one who had you picked you up when you fell, who had been kind and caring enough to ask if you were ok. Or was he this man, the cold hearted uncaring one who cut people off mid sentence. You truly didn't know, and that thought scared you. 

“Down to business” Sunghoon continued. “We have a big project coming up. We have a new girl group debuting that needs front cover coverage. We have to make them look stellar. I’m talking about bold fonts, attention to detail with colors and we have to be very careful with editing. Do you think you can make that happen?” 

“Of course” You said more confidently this time. “You can count on me.” 

“And if we can't we have a ton of other well equipped applicants chomping at the bit for your position. Do not mess this up.” Sunghoon rose from his seat, gathering all of his papers with him. “Project is due exactly three months from now.” With that Sunghoon was out the door. A silence so heavy had followed. You could hear a pin drop. It was that quiet. Wonyoung and Jay shared a glance that you couldn't quite decipher and in all honestly you weren’t up to even trying. 

All hope of Sunghoon liking you had fled, leaving a cold dead feeling in its wake. 

“What a jerk,” Wonyoung laughed awkwardly. “He’s not usually like that..” 

“Jay said he was standoffish…” You trailed off looking down at the table in front of you. “That was a little more than standoffish.” You tried your best to keep your resolve but at the end of the day you were only human and the weight of the events that took place had started to crash into you. You could feel the tiredness deep in your bones. You still had a full day ahead of you and truthfully you didn't know how it was going to go or how you were going to manage to survive it. 

“I’m sorry about him..” Jay had looked more embarrassed than anything and weirdly enough that had given you a bit of comfort, knowing that even his friends and colleagues acknowledge how much of an asshole he just was to you. 

“Don’t worry Y/n he’ll warm up to you in no time!” Wonyoung hopped over to you. 

“I’m sure he’ll get very toasty.” You cringed at your attempt at a joke but by the way Wonyoung threw her head back in laughter had left you feeling just a little bit better about what had just transpired. If Sunghoon wasn’t the type to be warm and welcoming you were glad that Jay and Wonyoung were. 

It was only lunchtime and you were beginning to rethink all of your life choices. Not only did your head still severely ache from your fall this morning, but Sunghoon hasn't even begun to let up on you. Dropping by almost every hour to check on your progress, then nit picking it until you've changed almost every single detail. It had been a day from hell and it still wasn't even over yet. 

Gathering yourself you made your way to the lounge, Wonyoung trailing beside you. “I hope Sunghoon isn't discouraging you too much. He’s very passionate about the covers we make, he just likes them to be perfect.” In all honesty her attempt at helping had only made it worse for you. You wouldn't blame her for that though. She was just trying to help you understand the way Sunghoon was. 

“He changed basically the entire layout draft.” You deadpanned, your annoyance very pellucid. Wonyoung cringed at your candor. 

“If it makes you feel any better, Jay and I think that it was a solid first attempt.” 

“That does not make me feel any better but thank you.” A laugh fell from your lips as you said it. You and wonyoung had already started getting comfortable with one another. Your cubicles were fairly close and she was definitely the yappy type, but you didn't mind. It had passed the time by more quickly, having someone to talk to about mindless stuff. “I just don't understand why Sunghoon hates me so much. I don't see what I did wrong.” Opening the door to the lounge you were met with the most delicious smells. Your stomach grumbled and for the first time all day you were realizing just how hungry you were. 

“Sunghoon doesn't hate you,” Wonyoung said quietly, presumably to make sure no one around you was listening in on your conversation. The lounge was shared with more than just your department judging by the fact that there were definitely more than twenty plus people in here. “Like I said, he's just very particular about the covers. He takes pride in his work. And him being an asshole to you, well that i don't know. You tell me considering the look you two shared when we walked into the meeting room this morning.” She snickered at you as the two of you approached the table of food. It was a big breakfast bar. Breakfast for lunch, yum. 

“Do the two of you know each other?” She asked out right. You shook your head immediately, probably looking a bit suspicious. 

“No, not at all.” The look wonyoung gave you made you feel like she didn't believe you. “I met him this morning on the way here. I had fallen and hit my head and he helped me up that's all. I didn't know the beautiful stranger helping me was going to be my boss but I guess that's just my luck.” 

“Beautiful huh?” Her lips rising in a teasing smirk. Cursing yourself for your word vomit you felt the apples of your cheeks heating up as embarrassment usurped you. 

“Well..i-i mean he- well” You stuttered like an idiot as you tried your best at regaining your pride and collecting your barings. 

“It’s ok” Wonyoung giggled, placing her hand on your bare wrist in comfort. “I understand. I’m a woman. I know that Sunghoon is an attractive man, I'm not blind. He's just not my type.” 

“What is your type?” You asked her, once again letting your intrusive thoughts win. You really had to stop doing that before you offend someone. 

“Jay” Wonyoung stated simply with a small shrug. Mid scooping up scrambled eggs you froze, turning to look at her with the goofiest smile on your face. 

“You like Jay?” You whisper shouted at her. 

“I don’t just like Jay, I'm in love with Jay.” Her frankness had amazed you. How was it so easy to just admit that she was in love with Jay, you wished that you had half as much courage as she did. 

“Why don’t you say anything?” You asked her. 

“I will, just when the time is right. We're so busy here all the time. I don't want to over complicate his work even more with having a girl two cubicles down from him fawning over him and he doesn't love her back, do you know how embarrassing that would be?” We had finally gathered all of your food making your way to an empty table. 

“I get it.” and you did get it. Although you've never really been in love before you knew how it felt to not want to inconvenience the people you loved. Although it might not be the exact same thing you had felt similar feelings when it came to telling your parents that you wouldn't be pursuing their dreams but instead you'd be pursuing your own. 

“Jay is coming.” Wonyoung announced, signaling the end of the conversation as we knew it. The both of you knew it wasn’t the true end. You would definitely be re visiting the topic soon enough. 

After a tiringly long day you were more than glad to finally be free to go home. Ssunghoon had only visited you two more times then after that you hadn’t seen him again for the rest of the day. Each conversation had been short, curt and he had never looked you in your eyes. Opting to stare at the keyboard in front of you or at the wall to the side of you. He never looked at you. It had felt degrading and dehumanizing. 

Once you arrived home taking the elevator up to your apartment had felt like the longest ride you had ever been on, and once outside of your door you glanced at your neighbors, the sight of a bright yellow slip on it catching your eye. 

‘Vacant. For rent, talk to the office for details.’ Confusion took over you for what seemed like the millionth time that day. Vacant? That couldn't be right. Your neighbor had no signs of moving at all. Hell, he had been up all night banging random girls for the past week now. How could it have been vacant so suddenly? Deciding it wasn’t worth mulling over at the moment you entered your apartment readying yourself for bed. At least you won't be bothered with his nightly hookups anymore, that was the bright side of all of this. 

The more pressing matter at hand wass finding the bracelet your grandmother gave you. You tried gaslighting yourself into believing you had taken it off sometime this morning, but that was really really not like you at all. You never took that thing off no matter what. Not to shower, not for anything. You've been wearing it for five years so there was no way it could have just slipped off could it? It's never done that before and it wasn't loose. You would have noticed if it was loose. 

Looking your apartment over top to bottom has proven no help. The fucking bracelet was nowhere to be found. Your chest started to tighten and suddenly it felt a bit harder to breathe. You knew you were having a panic attack, you could feel it. You haven't had one in a while but you could distinguish that feeling anywhere. Feeling like you were dizzy, as if you were going to throw up everywhere, or faint, or both. 

You needed that bracelet. Over the years you have become dependent on the familiarity of it. It felt like an extra layer of skin, or a tattoo forever inked into you. That bracelet was the equivalent to a child with their baby blanket or a stuffy they just had to have in order to sleep at night.  That bracelet was branded into your heart, it was the one and only thing you had left of your grandmother and it was just …gone?

It made no sense. Scouring your apartment once again, feeling as if you were going crazy. It had to be here somewhere. Or maybe you had dropped it off on the way to the crosswalk this morning? But all you could remember was the rain and how it had fallen over you like tiny little pellets. 

Sunghoon said it hadn't rained at all though. So what could you actually recall from this morning that was actually true? How hard did you hit your head? 

Deciding to calm yourself down for the night you prepared yourself a bath with extra good smelling soaps in it. You need to take a breather, you'll find the bracelet it has to be around here somewhere for sure. 

You kept repeating that phrase in your head even after you got out of the bath and while you brushed your hair and your teeth. It's here somewhere….it's here somewhere…you'll find it tomorrow. As you fell asleep for the night the phrase continued to circulate your mind. It was the only thing keeping your heart caged, helping so it wouldn't burst from your chest with nervousness. And even as you woke up in the morning you thought it over and over again. So much so that for a fleeting moment you forgot about sunghoon and how much he hated you. 

You were quickly reminded once you stepped foot into the office area the next day. 

Sunghoon stood at your desk, waiting for you. You felt like absolutely shit and knew you looked it too. Internally groaning you made your way to him. 

“Good morning Sunghoon.” You spoke quietly, almost as if you were trying to poke and prod at him like a giant angrily sleepy bear. In fear that in a fit of rage he’d explode and eat you alive. 

“Morning. We have a meeting in five minutes.” His words were short and curt as he turned on his heels and walked away, leaving you to gape at him from behind. He was talking to Jay now quietly, almost hushed like he didn't want anyone to hear them. You didn’t care what they were talking about, not really so you turned to your work trying hard to ignore the simmering feeling inside of you. 

You haven't felt like yourself since yesterday and today you felt even weirder. Deciding to ignore it you gathered your things making your way to the meeting room to ensure you were earlier than everyone else was. 

You concluded right then and there that you would no longer show Sunghoon that you feared him. This was the only way to gain his respect. Show him you're serious about the job and mean no funny business when it comes to your art. You loved cover design and you recognize just how lucky you were to get this position. You mean business, and you were damn sure going to show it. 

Wonyoung was the second person to walk through the doors. Well, more like burst through the doors. 

“I’m here! I’m here” She gasped out, carrying an insanely large stack of papers in her hand. Stopping in her tracks when she noticed it was just the two of you in there alone. 

“Those bastards.” She cursed, setting the papers down with a slam. “Fucking bastards” She continued to mutter under her breath. 

“Uhh…are you ok?” You asked with concern. 

“No!” She shouted throwing her hands up in the air, overly dramatic might you add but you were slowly learning that that was just Wonyoung’s style. “Jay and Sunghoon texted me and said I was super late! That I better run here quickly. I didn't even stop to put my stuff down.” Noticing her big fur jacket you stifled a laugh. “They're not even here yet. Oh when I see those two they're dead.” 

“Last I saw they were over by the cubicles” You giggled out. Wonyoung’s eyes turned to slits as she watched you laugh. 

“It’s not funny”  She whined, running her hands through her hair to try and fix it up “i look a mess.” 

“You don't look bad at all.” You smiled trying to offer her some resemblance of hope while in reality she looked absolutely gorgeous while also simultaneously looking like she had just rolled out of bed at the same time. 

Before she could spit a rebuttal out the sound of the door opening garnered your attention. Sunghoon and Jay sautered in with two cups of coffee in each hand. 

“Looking good Won.” Jay snickered, holding the cup of coffee up to her. “Caffeine?” 

“I’m going to strangle you both.” She spewed out, her face bright red with anger and embarrassment. 

“That's no way to talk to your boss.” You didn’t miss the way Sunghoon walked past you slowly, only bending down slightly beside you to set the warm cup of coffee he was holding down in front of you on the table. He said nothing to you. No acknowledgement besides that. You didn't know how to feel. It wasn't like he specially brought you a coffee, they also brought themselves one along with Wonyoung. Good to know he wasn't so cruel as to exclude you from something as trivial as a coffee run. At least you were thought about in some capacity. 

“Thank you” You spoke up, remembering what you had vowed to yourself earlier. Sunghoon gave no inclination that he heard you. Instead he opted for ignoring you. Once again, not meeting your eyes. 

“I’m sorry i wasn't sure if you heard me” You said a little louder “I said thank you.” Sunghoon’s face flashed with shock along with Wonyoung and Jay’s who had stopped bickering with each other once they heard you speak with deeper professionalism opposed to your usual stuttering and murmured words. 

“I heard you the first time.” Sunghoon grit his teeth. His canines now on full display. A fleeting part of your mind had thought it to be annoyingly hot. You pissed him off but you couldn’t find it in you to care. In reality you enjoyed it. Maybe too much. 

“Well I wasn't able to tell since you didn't bother to say anything back. ” 

“It wasn't important.” 

“Well it's common courtesy.” 

“I don't do common.” 

“Clearly.” LIke a scene in a movie, your constant banter had Wonyoung and Jay’s heads spinning. Whipping back and forth almost as quickly as your comebacks. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Sunghoon said, his eyes narrowing in on you. 

“It means that when someone says thank you the normal response is to say you're welcome.” You weren't done and he could tell. He was becoming more and more agitated each time you spoke. You even started to worry that you were crossing a line. Taking it too far perhaps but the overachiever in you wouldn't allow you to stop. 

“For god sake sunghoon just tell her you're welcome.” Wonyoung huffed out, rolling her eyes at your admitted childish behavior. 

“You're welcome.” Sunghoon grit out. The words falling from his lips had looked like they were dipped in poison. He forced them out in one fail swoop. A part of you wanted to keep going, to tell him you knew he wasn't sincere but you refrained. 

That was enough rebelance for one day. You just hoped that Sunghoon knew you were not done. That there was more where that came from. 

“Let's begin.” Sunghoon walked to the white board at the end of the table. Like the true boss he was, Sunghoon fixed his suit jacket and cleared his throat. 

“As I said in the previous meeting, this cover is due three months from now. And for the newer people-” 

“Y/n.” You interjected, reminding him of your name out of spite. 

“And for Y/n-” Sunghoon bit out “That might seem like a long time but let me-” 

“It’s actually not long at all to me”  You interjected again. That seemed to only further Sunghoon’s anger. 

“I’d like to get through this presentation without being interrupted.” 

“I’d like to get through it without having assumptions thrown my way. If you'd like to know what I can or cannot handle just ask me. There are only four of us in here, it's not a crowded room.” A smirk made its way on your features “You know, in case you're scared of big crowds or anything.” 

Wonyoung stifled a laugh behind her closed fist. Her and Jay acting as an audience to yours and Sunghoon’s show. Jay made a show of kicking her ankle under the table but it had only furthered Wonyoung’s giggling. 

“I’m fine.” Sunghoon looked down at the table for a moment, taking the time to compose himself. You sat still. The smirk gone from your lips, a serious expression taking precedence. Although bickering at Sunghoon was funny, you didn't want to stray away from what you were really trying to achieve here. And that was to gain professional respect from Sunghoon. Ssure, this might be an immature way to go about it but you felt as if it were the only way. You had to show him that he could just yank you around with his words and you'd just stay compliant. No, you knew how to do your job and you knew how to do it well. 

“Like I was saying.” Sunghoon continued. “This cover is due in three months. So far we have images of what they're wearing but obviously they are edited.” Turning to you, Sunghoon set down a few papers. 

They were previous editions that this group haad done pre-debut. 

“This is how they like to be portrayed. Girly, sweet and innocent. So that’s how we will deal with this issue. Is that understood?” Nodding along you felt it best to keep any rebuttals at bay. 

“Don't we think it’s a little crazy that they want them to portray sweet innocent girls when in reality they’re nightmares to work with.” Wonyoung interjected. 

“What?” You asked with confusion. “Aren't they a new girl group?”

“Well, yes but we did a cover for them when they were all first announced. They came in to see it and absolutely hated it.” Wonyoung pointed at a specific cover in front of you, one you didn't recognize. “The leader ripped it to shreds. They didn't want it coming out ever. I’m surprised they are even working with us again considering how much they berated us last time.” 

“Unfortunately we can't pick who we work with so, we'll just do our best at making the cover look so good they can't hate anything about it.” Sunghoon said while putting away the pages he had set down on the table. 

“Easy for you to say Suyu loves you.” Wonyoung rolled her eyes again. 

“Yeah, didn't she ask you on a date.” Jay laughed. “Should have gone for it honestly.” 

“I don't date.” Sunghoon said with a curt nod. “I had no interest in her.” 

“Don't be so uptight hoonie maybe you just need to get laid-” 

“Excuse me, that's not an appropriate topic for work and especially not in front of a new hire.” Sunghoon hissed at Wonyoung, a teasing smile spreading across her face. “Also don't call me hoonie, I already told you that.” 

“I don't mind,” You said with a shrug. “I think it’s funny.” 

“Of course you do,” Sunghoon muttered, shaking his head bitterly. “I’ll see you guys at lunch.” Walking out the door was the last signal Wonyoung and Jay. The two burst into a fit of laughter, Wonyoung so hard tears started falling down the apples of her cheeks. “Oh god!” she wheezed “Y/n that was so funny” 

“You really pissed him off,” Jay chuckled with a shake of his head. 

“I’m just trying to show him that I'm worth respecting, that's all.” You simply said. You began to gather all of your things in your hands. The laughs of Wonyoung and Jay are still ringing in your ears. You tried your best at suppressing a smile. You should really pat yourself on the back for that one. You were one step closer to getting Sunghoon off your back. But also a part of you had enjoyed the back and forth with him. You had enjoyed just how flustered and annoyed he got. A part of you had felt hot over it. You've said it before and you could really say it a million times over. Sunghhoon was attractive, insanely so. But something that he said had caught your attention. “I don't date.” 

It left you wondering why. Asking yourself if something had happened, something like a failed relationship or daddy issues. The nosey person inside of you wanted to ask, but that was one line you knew for certain you wouldn't cross. It was one thing to banter about work and the formalities of it but you certainly did not question someone on their personal lives, especially if you hardly know them. 

That didnt mean you wouldn't wonder. You most certainly will wonder about it. But asking was 100% off the table, no matter how badly you wanted to do it. 

The rest was mostly uneventful. Sunghoon came to visit a few times but didn’t say much of anything to you. It left you feeling somewhat accomplished upon leaving the office. 

As you were half way out the building doors you heard your name being called, loudly. 

“Y/n!!” Whipping around you spot Wonyoung rushing towards you. Her coat and sunglasses on as she was also leaving for the day. 

“Hey!” She said halting in front of you, her breath was heavy from sprinting towards you. “I just wanted to ask if you would like to meet up tonight for drinks and appetizers. There is this really cute spot downtown that I go to often.” 

You had to admit that you weren't much of an outing person. Much preferring to stay indoors with a warm cup of tea and a good book. But for some odd reason Wonyoung’s invitation had excited you. You didn't know how long it's been since you've been out with a friend. A really long time you suppose. 

In truth you didn't have many friends anyways. Back home you had one singular friend who you still spoke to from time to time, Chaewon. She was your oldest friend and every time you saw her it was like you had never been apart. You also had a few friends here and there in college but nothing really stuck. You could see yourself without a doubt being good friends with wonyoung. She was funny, smart, pretty and she truly cared about you. 

She treated you with the utmost kindness upon meeting her and you had never, ever felt left out around her and Jay. That's why accepting her invitation was no trouble at all. 

“Of course.” You smiled, “i’d love to” 

“Great!” Wonyoung clapped her hands “I'll text you the address! See you at like ... .seven?” Looking at your watch you had noticed that it just turned four fifteen, giving you ample time to go home and ready yourself. 

“See you at seven.” You nodded, turning away with the biggest and cheesiest grin on your face. Racing home to get ready you had a strong urge to pass the crosswalk that you had been at the morning you met Sunghoon. The morning you had lost your red bracelet. You still found it and truthfully you were trying everything you could not to think about it much. When you thought about it you began to panic. You haven't found the courage to ask him about it again. THe man already did not like you for some unknown reason you didn't want to anger him more by accusing him of stealing…again. 

Finally getting home you once again noticed the vacant sign on your neighbor's door. You had half a mind to go around and ask when and why he had left so suddenly, and you probably would have done it if you weren't so busy with everything else going on in your life. But once again you decide to ignore it, that seems to be your motto these days. Just ignore everything until it goes away. 

It took you practically no time to get ready and out the door. You can't remember a time you had been this excited to go out with a friend. Like you mentioned earlier, going out at all just really isn't your thing, you didn't enjoy settings filled with people and the loudness of it all. You much preferred the serene silence of your home, filled with the familiarity you loved so much

You were early getting to the restaurant so you made an effort in texting Wonyoung that you were there but for her to take her time and not feel rushed. 

Entering the restaurant to the chime of the door you were greeted by a hostess. The hostess sat you down with a menu and took your drink order in no time. You took the time to look around at the little bar/restaurant you were at. It was relatively small with very little decor, the lights dimmed and the music blaring through the speakers. It seemed like a place people came to party and eat, it was cute. 

Just as you start to settle in, the door chimes again. You don’t need to look up to know—there’s a distinct, comforting energy that surrounds Wonyoung when she enters a room. You hear her laughter first, like a melody, followed by the soft swish of her coat. When you turn, your eyes meet hers, and a warm, familiar feeling spreads through your chest. "Hey!" Wonyoung greets, her voice bright with that signature cheerfulness you’ve admired. But suddenly your breath caught in your throat. Walking in behind her was none other than Sunghoon and Jay. 

Walking up to you Wonyoung’s expression held apprehensiveness. She was not sure how you were going to react to Sunghoon being here. 

Walking up to your waiting figure Wonyoung sent you a tight lipped smile, one that told you that she knew entirely what she was doing. You forced a smile, but inside, your mind was racing. The last time you’d interacted with Sunghoon had been nothing short of a nightmare. The man was insufferable. He constantly belittled your work, made sarcastic remarks, and had a way of making you feel small with just a glance. Now, here he was, casually strolling into your dinner plans, making everything feel… complicated. 

Jay’s had an amused expression on his face, one that had furthered your anger towards the pair. Deciding to not beat around the push you said “Why is he here?” You asked out right, the annoyed look on your face not going unnoticed by the three of them. 

Wonyoung chuckled, taking a seat beside you. "I thought it would be fun! You two should get to know each other better outside of work. Jay and I think it would be helpful for the team.” 

​​As Sunghoon sat down across from you, the chair scraping against the floor felt like a loud reminder of how tense the atmosphere had suddenly become. You kept your gaze steady, unwilling to give him the satisfaction of seeing how rattled you were.

But Sunghoon, ever the observant one, smirked. "Don’t look so nervous, Y/n It’s just dinner.” Rolling your eyes you picked up the menu in your hand observing the various courses the restaurant had to offer. 

“Like you could ever make me nervous” You said continuing your leisure browse of the menu, trying your hardest to alleviate at least some of the tension that was brewing between the table. “You have a smart mouth. Need I remind you that I'm your boss.” Sunghoon’s face was hard, gone was any sort of amusement. Discontent the only thing in its place. 

Scuffing at his words you put the menu down onto the table with a harsh slap, looking at Sunghoon with sharp eyes. “Trust me, I'm reminded every time I walk into the building.” 

“Well, you don’t act like it.” Sunghoon’s eyes flared with an emotion you couldn't quite put your finger on. 

“Treat me like a respectable employee and I will.” You fired back, not willing to lose this fight. 

“Be respectable.” 

“Right. Back. atcha.” 

“Alright! Alright” Wonyoung threw her hands between the two of you in a dramatic display at being a referee of sorts. “That’s enough. Let’s all get along, we're not at work.” 

“She started it-” Sunghoon began to protest. His words were cut short as Woyoung lifted a singular finger pressing them against his lips to shut him up. 

“What are you five?” She laughed. “Act like an adult.” 

“I’m your boss.” Sunghoon deadpanned. Causing you to roll your eyes at his overused excuse to be an assshole with little to no consequences. 

“Give me a break.” You muttered your breath. 

“Don't you start.” Wonyoung whipped her head in your direction “You're being just as dramatic as he is.” 

“But-” You started out. 

“Nope, zip it.” 

“OK mom.” You huffed, causing Jay to burst out laughing. Something you could clearly tell he was holding in. Sunghoon’s face was red with embarrassment as his best friend laughed at the two of you, bickering like children. 

“You guys are seriously hilarious.” Jay said in between laughs. “Why do you guys hate eachother so much anyways?” 

“I don't hate anyone.” You nonchalantly say whilst picking up the menu once again, hopefully for the last time. 

“I Don't either.” Sunghoon kicked his friend under the table harshly, annoyed with his constant laughter. “Shut the hell up.” 

“Ow, fuck!” Jay hissed. “I hate you.” 

“Yeah, yeah order your food.” Sunghoon had the ghost of a smile on his face and for a brief moment you admired him. 

You had said it time and time again that Sunghoon was a beautiful man, but staring at him your mind began to wander to unforeseen places. If only Sunghoon wasn't such an asshole, you would begin to think you could develop a superficial crush on him. Looking down at his wrist as he held the menu in his hands you one again noticed the red string he wore. The one that was almost identical to the one you were missing, the one that was currently leaving a gaping hole in your heart. Being without it had felt like being without your skin, and seeing Sunghoon sat in front of you adorning one so similar to yours had felt like pure torture. Looking away from Sunghoon your fingers played at the straw that was sitting in your glass of water. Wonyoung started up a conversation that you were only half paying attention to. Finally after what seemed like forever the waiter came to take your order. You had come in famished but for some reason your stomach was in knots, the appetite you once had now gone. 

You were positive that Sunghoon was to blame. Your spat with him only a couple of minutes ago had rendered you emotionally tired. 

“Do you want a drink?” Wonyoung asked you softly, “It’s on me.” Smiling softly you nodded not wanting to be a buzzkill with your now sour mood. “Get me whatever you're getting.” 

After getting your food and taking small bites here and there you still couldn't shift the awkwardness between you all. The conversation was flowing but still, you and Sunghoon had said nothing to each other. Floating around the conversation to avoid addressing one another. You're doing everything you can to pretend like he's not there, but every time you look up, his gaze somehow finds its way to you. The tension is palpable. You could cut it with a knife. 

Wonyoung notices your discomfort, probably sensing that you're deliberately avoiding eye contact with Sunghoon. She tries to pull you into the conversation by telling a funny story, but her voice is barely a cover for the fact that you're hyper-aware of Sunghoon's presence. Every time his voice rings out, it's like a reminder that you're stuck in this moment.

You had this sinking feeling that you were being a buzzkill, that you might be inadvertently ruining the night, you tried your hardest to participate in conversation but it seemed unnatural. You were almost ready to give up for the night. Readying yourself to go home and sink into your bed and never leave it. 

It seemed the rest of your party felt the same way. Based on the fatigue in Wonyoung’s eyes and the sluggishness of her gaze. A part of you thought it was the alcohol coursing through her. In the two very long, very agonizing hours you were here you had seen her down at least six drinks. She was sure to be stumbling out of the restaurant. 

“I will see you on Monday.” Wonyoung’s voice rang out as he leaned her entire body onto Jay’s for support. He held her upright by her waist and you were sure to catch the look of intimate concern on his face and he stared down at Wonyoung’s drunk state. 

“Be careful getting home Won.” You said to her. 

“I’ve got her.” Jay spoke softly, grabbing her purse in his hand. Sending him a small smirk you nodded. “I know you do.” 

Sunghoon was already at the door saying goodnight to his friends before you could even begin to collect your things. You knew that he didn't like you, that was for certain but him not saying goodbye to you haad stung. 

Back wass the feeling of significance because of him, and you hated it. You hated that he had such a tight hold on you. You couldn't understand why. Why did sunghoon’s feelings and opinions on you matter so much, and why did you feel such a strong pull of emotions around him. The thought had irritated you to no end. You just couldn't understand why. Gathering your things you leave the restaurant, your mind and heart a mess. 

Monday, you wake up to the sound of your alarm, a grating beep that slices through the comfortable haze of sleep. Your first instinct is to slam the snooze button and pretend for a moment that today is an illusion, that you don’t have to face Sunghoon. You groan, pulling the covers tighter around yourself as if the world outside your bed could just go away. But of course, it doesn't. The moment you even think about calling in sick, you can hear his voice in your head—cool, detached, and just a little too smug. “There are tons of other applicants that are dying to be where you are right now. In this position.”  You couldn't bear to listen to it. You hate how his words cling to you, how you can’t just ignore them. The annoying thing about Sunghoon is he’s always right, even when he’s wrong.

But no. You shake the thought away, clenching your fists. You’ve got to go in. You’ve got to deal with him. Because if you don’t, you’ll spend the rest of your day spiraling in your own head, imagining every scenario where you just walk out. Still, you can't help but picture the worst-case scenario in your mind: Sunghoon, smirking as usual, watching you with that infuriatingly unreadable expression. Then he opens his mouth, and everything—your blood, your will to keep it together—starts to boil. 

Ransacking your closet has become a daily thing, trying your best to look as presentable as possible. You don't want to give Sunghoon any more ammo to shoot at you with. Plus, this was a fashion magazine job. You just had to look good, or at least look like you knew the difference between your ass and your elbow. Deciding on a simple white blouse and a pair of dark denim jeans you rushed out the door at record speed. 

After Friday's fiasco at the restaurant you had felt more nervous than usual to walk into work. You weren't ready to face Sunghoon after the argument the two of you had. You had felt so much embarrassment when you had finally gone home and mulled over exactly what had happened. Sure, Sunghoon is an entitled asshole but he’s right. He’s your boss at the end of the day and you really couldn't afford to get fired. 

There is nothing that would hurt more than calling your parents after years of not talking to tell them that you had failed at the career you gave up everything for. That wasn't a humbling experience that you wanted to face. Not now, not ever. 

Once you got into the office you flashed Minji a smile before be-lining to your desk. You were trying to go unnoticed by Sunghoon. You really didn't know how you would respond if he came to you being his usual stoic, brazen self. Setting your stuff down you noticed that you were the only one there. Both Jay and Wonyoung were late. You haven't caught a glimpse of Sunghoon yet as well. Something you were thankful for. 

You began typing away on your computer, tweaking a few things that you had missed Friday before you left. You noticed a few notes that Sunghoon had left on your doc. Asking you to change a certain color, or a font. You rolled your eyes but did as you were told. You had to admit that some of it did look better then what you originally had. The admittance had made you only slightly angry. You had to remind yourself that this was only your first time doing this professionally, as for Sunghoon who had been doing this for over two years now. 

After only a short while of working you're distracted by the sound of an all too familiar giggle. 

You catch sight of Wonyoung, and something about her today is different. She’s walking in with Jay, and there's this soft, almost too happy vibe between them. Wonyoung’s smile is a little wider than usual, and her eyes keep flicking toward Jay, as if she can’t help herself. And Jay, for

His part seems a little more careful around her, like he's trying to be sweet without being too obvious, but it’s clear they’re in sync. They’re walking close, way too close for just friends, with her shoulder occasionally brushing his, her voice softening when she speaks. And Jay? He’s laughing at something Wonyoung said, his hand resting casually, almost accidentally on her back, guiding her into the office. That tiny touch says it all. You can see it in the way Wonyoung glances up at him, almost as if she’s living in a little love bubble that no one else can quite pop. The way her eyes light up when he says something, like she’s completely smitten and not even trying to hide it.

Something had changed between the two of them, something catastrophic. The vibe between them had shifted into something more tender. They had looked well, in love. Your heart swelled for the two. You remembered the conversation you had with Wonyoung in the meeting room, how she confessed to being in love with Jay. You had settled hope that she had finally told him. Breaking away from Jay, Wonyoung made her way to her cubicle. 

“Um..” You mumbled, waiting for her to finally settle in. “Got something to tell me?” You asked cutting right to the chase. 

“No?” Wonyoung had a teasing smile on her face, one that told you she was most definitely messing with you. Dangling that carrot over your head in a mocking way to get you riled up. 

“Tell me” You whined like a toddler in no mood for silly games. 

“Fine, fine.” Wonyoung said with a smile that you had never seen her wear before. It was bright and glittery and very much dopey. Like she was sickeningly in love. You didn't know whether you wanted to puke or jump for joy. Probably both. “After we had left the restaurant I was pretty drunk. You know that.” You nodded at her, waiting for her to continue. 

“Well Jay brought me home, and like a drunk idiot I confessed but Jay knew I was drunk and didn't want to say much until I was sober. He slept over on my couch and when I woke up and saw him there I thought nothing of it, I thought maybe he was just as drunk as me and just crashed at my place instead of going home.” A big goofy grin spread across her lips once again. 

Your heart had warmed at the sight. You were over the moon to see your friend happy. “But he told me what I had said to him the night before, truthfully I was mortified. That was not at all how I wanted to tell him, you know that.” You nodded, remembering how she wanted to wait to tell him. Worried that he was way too busy to take up with a girl he considered being his friend being in love with him. She had feared he didn't feel the same but anyone with eyes could tell he did. 

“He told me he needed to hear me say it while sober, that he wouldn't believe it until I did. So I told him, I told him I loved him and that I've loved him for a while and just didn't want to inconvenience him by telling him.” Her words were dripped in honey as they fell from her lips and you felt nothing but happiness for your friend. Although you have only known Jay and Wonyoung for a short time you could truly see the care and the love the two of them shared, it was only a matter of time before their true feelings were revealed to one another. 

“And..and he loved me too.” She looked down at her hands bashfully. “He said that he has loved me longer than I even loved him. He didn't think I could ever feel the same way so he never told me.” 

“So a case of miscommunication?” You cracked, a smile now on your lips as well. 

“Yeah i guess so”

You were just about to ask her for more details when you heard the sound of someone walking down the cubicle hallway. Looking up you’re met with Sunghoon, the same sharp expression on his face. Instantly gone was your smile and bubbly attitude. In its place a more foul feeling. And a bit of worry. 

“Oh god” Wonyoung groaned, swerving around in her chair to face her computer. Sunghoon made a direct beeline for your cubicle, leaving a heavy sinking feeling in your gut. Of course he was coming to you. When was he not? 

“I have a few pointers about what you're working on.” Sunghoon said as he stood beside your desk. No good morning, no hello. Just straight to the point. 

“Of course you do.” You huffed. 

“Do you think that's a color you should be using for the title?” Sunghoon ignored your comment, instead leaning out to point at what's on your computer screen. 

“What color would you like me to use?” You quizzed to humor him. 

“Probably something that pops like green-” 

“Green?” Your disgusted expression not going unnoticed by Sunghoon. “She's wearing a pink jumpsuit. Why would I make the title green?” 

“It's for contrast Y/n” Sunghoon remarked with the roll of his eyes. 

“It's too bright-” 

Sunghoon leaned forward more, placing his coffee mug down onto your desk with a slow, deliberate motion. "Exactly. That’s the point. People will look. They'll remember it. The world doesn’t need another pastel-colored magazine that blends in. We need bold choices if we want to stand out." 

“These are young girls we are talking about. They are the epitome of a pastel-colored and girly girl, it also shows subtlety when you use more boring colors like white and beige. It shows class-” 

"Class?" he interrupted with a raised brow. "You think class comes in beige? Or grey? People don’t care about your ‘subtlety’ when they’re flipping through a hundred other magazines that all look the same. We need to be striking. Unique." 

“You’re not listening to what I'm saying Sunghoon, and you're also not giving me the creative freedoms I need to make this stand out while also not being a huge eyesore.” You exasperated, throwing your hands up in frustration. 

“Whatever.” Sunghoon muttered. “Do whatever you want.” Storming off down the corridor without uttering another word. 

You were shocked at his audacity to come in here and suggest your ideas to be weak, and not unique. It had felt like one big slap in the face. You didn't know how much more of it you could stand. You needed to hit this in the but and get this weird tension and argumentative behavior to go away. You needed it to stop if you were going to truly work to your highest capacity. 

“Screw this” You muttered, getting up from your seat. 

“Where are you going?” Wonyoung shouted after you, but you ignored her and continued your fast descent to Sunghoon’s office. A place you had not yet visited. You round the corner to be met with his semi secluded office. The what was supposed to be open windows to his office were covered in top to bottom curtains, shielding what was happening inside. 

Sunghoon was definitely the kind of man that desired privacy, even as the boss in his own workplace. That was something you could find yourself relating with. 

Knocking on the door to his office you gave him no more than a second before you were pushing the door open and walking inside. 

Sunghoon looked up at you with an expression of shock and the utmost anger at your intrusion but frankly you didn't care. You were over this back and forth with him and you were there to settle it. 

“Excuse me-” Sunghoon started. 

“What’s your issue with me?” You asked, trying to keep your composure as you stood in the middle of his office. “Why are you being so hard on me? Treating me differently than everyone else?” 

His brow furrowed slightly, and for a split second, you could almost see a flicker of something, was it surprise? Annoyance? Maybe a little of both? "You think I’m being hard on you?" His tone was quieter now, but still edged with something unyielding, like a glacier slowly shifting. "You’re not the only one who works hard, Y/N. You’re not the only one who’s been under pressure." 

You shook your head, the frustration building. "That’s not it. It’s how you treat me. You’ve always been different with me. Jay and Wonyoung? They get praise, they get leeway, they get humanity, and I know they are your friends. But when it comes to me? You always find something wrong. You never—" You stopped yourself, cutting off the words before they became too much. 

He was still staring at you, his expression unreadable, but there was something in his eyes now—something deep, something you hadn’t expected. He stood up from his desk, his tall frame casting a shadow over you. His smell had wafted your sense, filling you wholly. He smelt familiar, like someone you once knew but had lost. 

"You think you know me?" he asked, his voice low, dangerously calm. "You think you understand how hard it is, how much pressure I’m under? To keep this department running, to keep everything in line?" 

Your heart raced as you stepped forward, emboldened by the truth spilling from your lips. "I never said it was easy for you. But why do I always feel like I’m the one you're trying to break? Why do I feel like I’m the one who’s always under your microscope? The one you never hesitate to shy away from with your scrutiny.” 

“You're making things up in your head, allowing things to brew with your emotions-” 

“Don't you dare tell me how to feel and think, Sunghoon. That’s not for you to decide.” Your voice was stern, a tone you should not be having with your boss. He moved closer to you, impossibly close. You felt a pull between the two of you, one you couldn't explain. A pull you weren't sure was fueled by hatred or something else. The red bracelet he wore on his wrist caught the light of the office, making your heart pound in your chest. 

He didn’t even flinch. His gaze darkened, and for a moment, You thought he might actually shout at you, but instead, he did something that made your heart skip a beat. He leaned in close, his breath brushing against your ear as he whispered, “Then maybe you should stop pretending and just admit you want me to notice you.” 

“Notice me?” You echoed, Your voice low and dangerous. “I’m not some damsel waiting for your approval, Sunghoon.” You couldn't believe the sheer audacity that he held. To think he had the right to insinuate you made a fuss for the end goal of catching his eye. How arrogant could he truly be? He was maddening, he was turning your mind to utter mush and still through it all he was so damn hot. It had your mind reeling and your pulse jumping. In the thick of it you couldn't help yourself. He stared at you for a long beat, his gaze softening just a fraction. His lips parted as if to say something, but before he could, you grabbed him by the collar and pulled him towards you. The kiss was hard, urgent. More of a collision than a moment of tenderness. His lips were warm and demanding, and you couldn’t help but respond in a hushed moan, your hands threading through his hair, tugging him closer. For a moment, everything else, the frustration, the resentment, the disdain, melted away. 

Sunghoon’s hands were on your waist now, pulling you flush against him, his fingers grazing the small of your back. He kissed you with the same intensity he’d had in the argument, his mouth softening only when he pulled back for air. 

“Fuck” You cursed, as his lips found your neck sucking dark circles into the exposed skin. Keeping your hands tightly wound in his hair and lift your hips slightly, creating the tiniest bit of friction that you could muster. 

Pulling back Sughoon assessed his work on your collar bone before reattaching his lips to yours with fiver. The realisation of what the two of you were doing hit you like a freight train, but before you could pull back your mind was blank. Your vision, blurry then white as a hazy image illuminated your vision. 

It was of two figures, one a man with a familiar build and captivating smile. Sunghoon. The other person is a woman, with hair much like yours. You could assume it was you. The two of you were holding hands as you walked along a beach. The sunset behind you is a warm shade of burnt orange, so beautiful and bright as it illuminates the two of you together. Tangled in one another. Your hands were bound together, swaying back and forth in tandem. Sunghoon was smiling at you with a smile you had never seen before. He leans down to kiss your cheek. The shock of it all sends you jolting and back into reality. 

You pulled away from Sunghoon with a gasp. Your breathing heavy as your chest moves up and down trying to catch your breath. 

“This is wrong.” You whimper. Your emotions beginning to get the best of you. “We..we shouldn't have done that.”  

“No we shouldn't have.” Sunghoon’s voice was void of any real emotion, the tone had a shiver shooting up your spine. The reality of what just happened is daunting on you. You had just made out with your boss. The boss who hates you, and who you're sure you hate back. 

“You should go.” Sunghoon averts his eyes every which way as he tries his hardest to not look at you. You were grateful for it for once. Fearing if he looked you in your eye it would trigger a river of emotion to fall from you, one that you wouldn't be able to stop. 

You've had enough embarrassment for today. If Sunghoon truly thought you were attention hungry before you could only begin to wonder what he thought of you now. After having spewed your disdain to only pull him into a kiss as soon as he got too close. Your self restraint had flown straight out the window, taking your common sense with it. 

You don’t kiss your boss. That was an unspoken rule among any workplace and you had just broken it. How were you supposed to act going forward? There was no way you could look Sunghoon in the eye and not be brought back to that very moment in his office. The moment you forgot about being a decent human being, a sensible one. 

You let your emotions and the intensity of the moment speak for itself and look where it got you. You're deep into a hole you don't know how to dig yourself out of. Questioning every feeling you ever felt for Sunghoon. 

Your mind was a jumbled mess. Comparable to a jigsaw puzzle you just couldn't solve. The resentment you felt for yourself was heavy as you made the awkward trek back to your cubicle. Ignoring Wonyoung’s awakening stare, you sat down in your seat before letting your head fall down with a thump against the wood of your desk. 

You ignored the sharp pain and tried your hardest to hold back the prickling feeling of tears welling in your eyes. What could you possibly be crying about? So what? you kissed your boss, move on. That’s what you wish you could be telling yourself but instead the self loathing set it. You don’t want to tell Wonyoung in fear of running her picture perfect day with your mess of a life. One that you had created for yourself. 

You raised your head from its place on the desk before turning to look at Wonyoung with a solemn smile. “What’s going on?” She asked with confusion. 

“Nothing” You tried to be short so as to not give too much away. “I went to try and ask Sunghoon a question but he wasn’t in his office. I’ll ask him later.” Wonyoung’s eyes turned to slits. It was evident that she didn't believe a word you said, but by the very grace of god she decided to leave the subject alone. With just the nod of her head and tilted frown you knew you had upset her by not telling her the truth. A part of you wants to just blurt it, tell her what you have done. But you couldn't bear the backlash. 

Surly Wonyoung would scold you, tell you just how stupid you were for kissing Sunghoon. Who is A.) Your boss but who B.) also just said that he wasn't the dating type. Who in their right mind would kiss their emotionally unavailable boss. 

There wasn’t time to dwell much more on what you couldn't change, deciding to ignore it rather than face it. You only hoped and prayed that Sunghoon did the same. 

The next few days at work had been tense. To say the least. You had been ignoring Sunghoon like the plague. Something that hasn't gone unnoticed by Wonyoung and Jay who were still very much in love and flaunting it. It had hurt your head to watch them be all lovey dovey day in and day out. 

Jay was truly the picture perfect boyfriend and although you were very happy for your friends you couldn't help the deep seed of jealousy that reared its ugly head every time you witnessed it. Every single kiss on the cheek, hug or subtle caress had made you green with envy. You didn't enjoy feeling that way towards your friends but karma had a sick way of cutting deep when you wanted it least. 

Wonyoung asked you multiple times what had happened between you and Sunghoon the day you went to his office but each time you maintained your story that he wasn't there. She didn't believe it any time you told her and it was obvious to you that she was sick and tired of that response. 

Sunghoon must have been giving her a similar story because everytime she talked to him she was left with a somewhat sour expression as she obnoxiously stomped away from him like a child not getting her way. If you weren't so caught up in what happened recently you would have thought it to be cute. Today had been no different than the rest, you were ignoring Sunghoon, as much as you could ignore your boss. He hadn't come to your desk at all either. Something you were really thankful for. All of that still didn't stop him from leaving his obnoxious notes in your docs anytime you did something to the cover. It was infuriating, being reminded of him constantly. 

When lying awake at night you couldn't help but think of the little…vision? You had mid kiss with Sunghoon. You didn't know what to call it, or what it even was. All you knew was that it had felt, real? Too real. It made your head hurt. It was so clear yet so hazy at the same time. None of it made sense. Then you thought about the kiss, the hot hot kiss. You thought about how Sunghoon’s hands felt when he gripped your hips pulling you closer to him. You thought about his lips trailing up and down the expanse of your neck. 

Thankfully it was winter and you were able to get away with wearing turtlenecks to work as to hide the dark purple marks he left on your skin. At night you would run your fingers lightly against them and a deep dark part of you wished that you had done more in that moment. Just so you could have more to dream about, fantasize about. 

You couldn't deny that you liked it. Very much. You also couldn't deny that Sunghoon had kissed you back, desperately. It had to mean that a part of him had to be attracted to you? Does it not? 

Otherwise he surely would have pushed you away instead of pulling you in. He wasn't the one to stop the kiss at all actually, it was you who pulled away. 

You who had stated that it was wrong, that you shouldn't have done it. How much further would you have gone if your head wasn't cleared by the reality of what you were doing and who you were doing it with. 

You were hesitant to admit even to yourself that you would have gone much further, so much further. You hated yourself for the part of you that wished you had done so. He's your boss for crying out loud. How on earth were you to go back to normal after this. How were you ever going to get Sunghoon to treat you like a regular employee now. Would it ever be normal after this? 

You were at the office like you usually would be, trying your hardest to ignore the most recent buzz over an annual christmas party being held at this fancy bar downtown. You were praying Wonyoung wouldn't have the inclination to invite you to it, truthfully it was the last thing you wanted to do. But before you knew it Wonyoung was beside your desk, a big goofy smile on her face that had represented your impending doom to a T. 

"Guess what time it is, bestie?" Her voice was sing-song, cheerful, like she’d just won a prize. It had you cringing at the sound. 

You didn’t look up, not ready for whatever was coming next. "Don’t even say it." 

"I’m saying it," she chirped, drawing out the words like she had all the time in the world. "You're coming to the Christmas party, and that's final." 

You Threw your head back with a groan of protest, "Wonyoung, I really don’t feel like going, Can we just—" 

"Nope." She was already scooting her chair closer to you with a mischievous glint in her eye. "You’re coming to the party. I’ve already made the decision for you. You don’t get to make decisions right now." 

“I’m serious, Wonyoung.” You leaned back in your chair, trying your best to sound firm. “I can’t go. Not with him there.” You had half a mind to make up some family emergency just to avoid what you knew was your ultimate fate but you were already feeling guilty enough for not telling her that you kissed sunghoon. 

Wonyoung’s eyes widened for a split second, before narrowing suspiciously. "Who? Sunghoon?" She dropped her voice, clearly trying to be subtle but failing miserably. "Oh, come on. Stop being so dramatic. I thought this little feud between you two would be over by now. Seriously, the two of you need to kiss and makeup already.” 

You visibly cringed at her choice of words, something that didn't go unnoticed by her. “It’s not that,” you muttered, your fingers fidgeting with a pen. "It’s… complicated.” 

“What are you hiding?” She said, her eyes narrowed into slits. “Did he say something to offend you more? Cause i'll talk to him again, seriously i need this tension to go away because i'm starting to think of you as my best friend and i need all my friends to get along.” 

“Well…” You shifted in your seat, trying to avoid her piercing gaze. “It’s not just work stuff, okay? And no he didn't say anything..” 

Wonyoung leaned forward, studying you closely. She was sharp, and she wasn’t going to let this go. "Oh my god. What happened?" Her voice dropped lower, her curiosity piqued. "Did you… did you two kiss?" 

You swallowed hard. “I… We…” You couldn’t even finish the sentence. How could you? It felt like everything had changed in an instant. "We kissed, okay?" Your voice came out almost in a whisper, the words heavy in the air. 

​​Wonyoung’s face lit up, her eyes wide with shock, then gleaming with amusement. "Oh my god. You kissed Sunghoon?" She leaned back in her chair like she was trying to process the sudden shift in the universe. "Wait, when? How? Why didn’t you tell me?!" 

“I didn’t tell you because it’s… awkward now, okay?” You ran a hand through your hair, trying to steady your breathing. “ Wonyoung. I don’t even know what’s going on between us. I’ve been ignoring him as much as possible. I’m trying to pretend like nothing happened but I can’t just pretend like we didn’t—" You cut yourself off, grimacing. The words felt too heavy in your mouth. "I’m just not ready to deal with it." 

Wonyoung blinked at you, and then, as if realizing the full scope of the situation, she burst into laughter. You flashed her a deadpanned look. Her laughter grew harder and louder. “I knew it!” she said, her voice full of triumph. “I knew you two had something going on. All that tension between you? It was like a rom-com waiting to happen! And now you’re telling me you kissed? Oh my god. This is so juicy.” 

You buried your face in your hands, feeling the heat of embarrassment creep up your neck. “Wonyoung, this is not funny. It’s awkward, okay? And the last thing I want to do is face him at the Christmas party.” 

Wonyoung was absolutely giddy now, her eyes sparkling. "Oh, come on. You can’t just avoid him forever. Trust me, you’ll feel so much better once you go and see him in person. I mean, what's the worst that could happen? You both just act like normal human beings and get on with your lives. It’s a Christmas party, not a battlefield." 

You shot her another deadpan look. “Wonyoung, you don’t get it. Every time I see him, all I can think about is that kiss. And I really don’t want to be around him when everything is so weird.”

She rolled her eyes, dismissing your concerns like they were nothing. “Come on. It’s not as big a deal as you’re making it. Look, you’re not just going to hide away forever. You’ll be fine, I promise. Besides, I am going, so is Jay, and we need you there to make it a proper party.” You couldn’t help but let out a resigned sigh. You were cornered. Wonyoung would never let this go. If she was determined to drag you to that party, there was no way you were getting out of it. 

"Fine," you muttered, slumping in your chair. "I’ll go. But I swear, if he so much as looks at me—" 

“Then you kiss him again,” Wonyoung said, her grin widening. “And maybe I’ll start charging for all this drama. I’ll be your manager, and we’ll make a fortune off this mess." 

“You're enjoying this way too much.” You muttered with a shake of your head. 

“That’s what friends are for” She laughed, “Also, im telling jay about this.” 

“No you're not.” You argued. “He can't know. He’ll tell Sunghoon and..and then I really could never show my face here again.” 

“He will most certainly not be telling Sunghoon, I won't allow it. I promise.” She assured you with a small pat to your head. “Plus, he’ll probably want to see this all unfold on its own. It's like a comedy show to him.” She rolled her eyes at the thought of her boyfriend's antics. Her pure happiness had brought you joy. Even though a part of you was severely jealous of their relationship, none of that jealousy stemmed from hate, only from love. You wished you had someone who looked at you the way Jay looked at Wonyoung and vice versa but seeing your friend over the moon in love and happy with a good man had made your heart soar. 

“When is this christmas party?” You asked, after the two of you had settled down a bit. 

“Saturday night.” Wonyoung responded gleefully. 

Looking down at your calendar you see that it was now thursday. Three awkward days from your kiss with Sunghoon. You knew you couldn't avoid him forever but you had at least hoped it would be longer than a work week. 

You had only hoped that magically Sunghoon wouldn't show up. These things were mandatory he could definitely skip out. You held onto that hope throughout the rest of the day. Continuing to ignore Sunghoon. 

At Lunch on friday you and Wonyoung sat in the lounge, you had been too anxious to eat so you just sat as Wonyoung and Jay yapped about what they would be wearing to the christmas party. 

Your mind elsewhere not even thinking about what you were going to wear, only thinking about how you could get out of it. Suddenly the door to the lounge opened. Your heart sinking to your stomach as the familiar tap of Sunghoon’s expensive leather shoes were heard, walking this way. Your eyes widened frantically looking over at Wonyoung with a shocked expression. 

“I didn't invite him.” She said, her eyes equally as wide as yours. SShe turned her head meeting Jay’s sheepish gaze. 

“He might have told me about your kiss, and I forced him to come meet us here for lunch as a way to alleviate the tension.” Jay’s smile was watery as Wonyoung gave him the most brutal look she could possibly muster. 

“Jay! You can't ambush a girl like that.” Wonyoung said with a hiss. 

“Sorry..” Something about Jay’s sheepish expression gave you the impression that he wasn't sorry at all, instead rather gleeful that this was happening. 

Finally Sunghoon approached your table. His eyes rapidly moved back and forth between the three of you. “Hello.” He said curtly, pulling out a chair then sitting down. 

The tension was so thick in the air you could cut it with a knife. Your lungs felt about three sizes smaller. The act of expanding them is just a bit harder than before. You knew what was happening. You were having an anxiety attack and you could do nothing but sit in silence as the sickening feeling overwhelmed you. 

You couldn't deal with this, not right now. You had prepared yourself for the christmas party but not for this. No, this felt like a surprise attack. You knew it wasn't but still the rapid beating of your heart and the sick feeling in the pit of your stomach just wouldn't go away. It was dizzying. “I-i um..” You stuttered rising from your seat at the table. “I forgot that i have some stuff i need to do i-have to go.” You forced the words out like razors caught in your throat. 

“Are you okay?” Wonyoung’s look of concern did nothing to calm the raging storm brewing inside of you, you had to get out of this lounge and fast. 

“Yes.” You nodded before turning and leaving the room as quickly as you could. You didn't care how ridiculous it might have looked running out of there. 

Sitting down at your desk a heavy breath left your lips and already your heart slowed. No longer were you dizzy with worry. At times like this you wished you had your red bracelet to help ground you, and even more so you wish your grandmother was alive. You wanted nothing more than to call her and ask for her guidance or ask for her to give it to you straight, no sugar coating it. 

She would do that for you, much like a mother would. Something you wish your own mother would do for you. You longed for a good relationship with your parents. A relationship where you could call them when you're down and ask for their advice or just their comfort. 

They were not entirely horrible growing up. Sometimes your father had acted like a real dad, very rarely but it did happen. You have very few but fond memories of your father waking you up at half past midnight to go to the toy shop with him. He would get new shipments and would be away too excited to sleep. He needed your input on them. He needed you to tell them if they were fun, if they were worth being sold there. 

You would play with the toys together really late into the night and it was the most tender you had ever seen your father act. You realize now that a lot of that was because of the shop but you didn't care, it was still a happy memory you shared with him. 

Thinking of your messy childhood has somehow helped you calm down. Your breathing was back to normal and your stomach did feel like it was turning every few seconds. You weren't angry at Jay for ambushing you with Sunghoon because you knew truthfully that wasn't his intention. You were more so embarrassed with the way you reacted to him. You must have looked so stupid, so weak. He was right to think of you that way to begin with. 

The sound of Wonyoung’s heavy footsteps had also brought you more comfort than you were willing to admit. Somewhat happy that she had come to check on you. 

“Are you alright?” Wonyoung’s voice was not a decibel above a whisper as she approached you. 

“I’m okay.” You sent her a small reassuring smile. “Let's not make a big deal out of it please.” 

“I’m going to kill Jay i swear-” Your laugh cut her off. 

“It’s ok i promise.” 

“Are you sure because I'll kill him if you ask me to.” 

“I’m sure” You said with more laughter. “Please don't kill your boyfriend.” 

“Okay..” She trailed off, flashing you a smile. “You sure you're okay?”

“I’m sure.” You reassured her with a nod of your head. You didn’t know how you would fare at this christmas party but at least you’d be ready for it. As ready as you can be anyway. 

On the night of the party you made sure to wear something…extra sexy. You wanted to feel good. Plus you were going to a bar. It was time for you to unwind after the last few weeks you've had and how stressful it's been working at a new job with an asshole boss and a huge project thrown your way. 

The party’s being held in a bar downtown, cozy and decorated with festive lights and wreaths. It’s supposed to be fun, but the moment you step inside, the last person you want to see is standing by the bar: Sunghoon. He was truly the last person you wanted to see as soon as you stepped into the door. Perched in the two seats next to sunghoon were Wonyoung and Jay, of course. 

Ever since that night in his office, the lines between you two have blurred. What started as a sharp, tense argument had escalated into something you never expected—a kiss. Not a casual peck, but a searing, desperate thing that left you breathless and confused. Then the silence. The awkwardness, and the fact that you ran out of the lounge upon seeing him yesterday. Now, here he is, looking effortlessly perfect in a tailored black suit, his hair styled just the right amount of messy. His eyes catch yours the second you step in, and you feel that familiar flutter of dread (and something else you can’t quite name). Your pulse quickens, your palms grow clammy. You think of turning around and leaving before he sees you, but it's too late. Wonyoung is calling for you, waving her hand around like a mad man. It was obvious she already had a few drinks in her. 

“Y/n!” Wonyoung giggles as soon as you walk up to them “You're finally here!” You send her a smile, hugging her awkwardly. 

“I’m here” You forced the words out. 

“Hello.” The words were tense, not sliding off the tongue easily at all. Your stature was rigid; anyone with eyes could tell you were clearly uncomfortable. 

“Hi Y/n” Sunghoon says casually, catching you completely off guard but before you could find the words to respond he's already turning to Jay starting up a conversation. And for the millionth time you notice the bracelet on his wrist. That goddamn bracelet. Looking away from it you focused your attention back to the conversation. 

“We only have two months left and we can't seem to figure out what pictures to use.” Jay was saying, they were obviously talking about the project. “If we don’t get it right they'll be pissed. You know how they were last time.” 

“I was hoping they would cut us some slack with a new hire” Sunghoon’s tone was hushed almost like he didn't want you to hear, but you did and it had pissed you off. 

“What?” You hissed out. “You guys hired me as a scapegoat?” 

Sunghoon groaned only furthering the simmering anger inside of you. Jay’s eyes widened as Wonyoung went pale beside you, but you couldn’t tear your gaze away from Sunghoon. His expression remained calm, detached, like he was making a simple business statement. 

“Let’s face it,” Sunghoon continued, unbothered by the sudden shift in atmosphere. “That new project? They’re bound to hate it.  And when they do, I’ll need someone to take the heat. You’re perfect for it—you're new, trainable. This is your first time in this field” 

The words hit you like a slap, cold and hard. You blinked, momentarily lost for words, the room around you suddenly feeling too tight, the festive decorations too bright, too garish. “I’m perfect for it?” You echoed in disbelief. “So you plan on throwing me under the bus, and you think I’m okay with that?” 

“I’m not trying to throw you under the bus Y/n, but these girls, they're brutal ok?” He set his drink down on the bar table. “They hate everything, and if i say you were the one who took the reins the consequences won't be as dire. They’ll use the excuse that it's a teaching moment.” 

“Are you seriously telling me you only hired me because I’m some convenient liability?” You said, your voice rising. “Is that all I am to you, Sunghoon? A fall guy?” Jay winced, looking like he wanted to disappear, while Wonyoung stepped back, clearly unsure how to navigate the conversation. But you couldn’t stop yourself. 

“Don’t think for a second that I’m just going to let you use me like that,” you spat. “You think I don’t know what you’re doing? You’re trying to play a game with me, but you’ve got it all wrong.” Tears welled up in your eyes, the frustration you felt was immense. 

Wonyoung glanced at Jay, both of them taking a step back. It was clear that this wasn’t just a disagreement—it was something much deeper, much more personal now. The air between you and Sunghoon had shifted from something casual to something sharp, dangerous even. You haad thought for a moment, just a moment that Sunghoon would treat you like an actual human being for once, but oh how fucking wrong you were. 

“There’s no game Y/n.” He spoke as if this conversation was an inconvenience, like your feelings meant nothing. “I hired you because I knew you had potential, but you came at a difficult time and we used that as an advantage.” 

“I’m not going to allow you to tarnish my name” You spat. Fresh tears falling down your face. 

For a moment, there was a silence between you two—tense, thick, and heavy. Wonyoung and Jay exchanged uneasy glances, unsure whether to stay or leave. The energy in the room seemed to freeze. 

Sunghoon looked visibly annoyed with even a small semblance of anger taking over his features. “It’s not like it wouldn't be your fault if they hate it. You can't even pick a proper title color.” 

His sharp words struck you like a knife. Stabbing into your chest with keen precision. 

“Fuck you Sunghoon.” You spat out. Words you were surely to regret in the future. Words you would never ordinarily say to your boss. Turning on your heel you rushed to the nearest bathroom. It was one of those family bathrooms that didn't have gender assignment, you were grateful that no one would be bothering you, going in and out of stalls. 

Slamming the bathroom door behind you, you allowed the tears to fall freely down your cheeks in what seemed like a waterfall of emotion. You were angry, so severely angry. How dare he insinuate that he was going to use you as a scapegoat. Was your work that subpar that he felt you were the easiest person to use. It had felt like a sick game, one you didn't sign up to play. 

A knock on the door sounded throughout the bathroom. “Go away Wonyoung” You sniffled not even in the mood for your fun loving, ever so perky tipsy friend. The door opened anyway, and in the reflection of the mirror you spot Sunghoon. 

“Get out.” You grit your teeth. 

“Just-just let me talk for one second before you get defensive.” He closed the door behind him with a click. 

“Defensive?” You said in shock. “You just told me im being used-”

“That's not- ok.” He took a simmering breath obviously trying to compose himself. 

“Yes, ok. I hired you so that we can use you being a new hire as back up for when we inevitably get torn to shreds by Suyu and her members but..it wasn't you specifically ok?” 

“Is that supposed to make me feel better, Sunghoon? What kind of excuse is that?”

“Its not an excuse Y/n.” Sunghoon ran his hands through his hair, an action that you shamefully maade your knees wobbly at the sight. Why did this man have to be so daamn beautiful while also being so damn irritating? “It's an explanation. The only excuse would be that you're new. Not that you're not good enough. I know you're good, otherwise I wouldn't have picked you over all those applicants. At the same time I also knew that nothing would satisfy Suyu, so I decided to kill two birds with one stone.” 

You looked down at your wrist feeling the barness more than anything. “I’m not some villain Y/n i’m not trying to make you feel useless-”

“Then why do you?” You look up at him, your lashes wet from your tears. 

Sunghoon’s response is short, concise but it makes your heart beat a mile a minute. His voice was unexpectedly quiet. “I didn’t mean to make you feel small. I’m sorry.” 

You blinked, caught off guard. “You’re… apologizing?”  

Sunghoon nodded dumbly, running his hands through his hair once again. You couldn't help the heat traveling to your cheeks, blaming it on the one single drink you had before coming. Sunghoon unconsciously stepped forward, his cologne invading your senses until it drove you mad. His frame was tall, looming over you like a giant. “I am” He confirmed with his words now. 

Before you could process what was happening, Sunghoon closed the space between you. His movements were slow, deliberate, and the air in the bathroom seemed to thicken with every passing second. Your heart raced as he stopped just inches away from you, his gaze intense, searching your face. 

“I—” he started, but the words died in his throat. Instead, his hand reached up, fingers brushing lightly against your cheek. His touch was surprisingly gentle, the warmth of his skin sending a jolt of electricity through you. 

“What are you doing?” You whispered out, hoping that whatever it was, it wouldn't stop. 

“I don't know” He said back, just as breathily. “Do you want me to stop?” 

Your head shook with vigor. Silently begging him to stay just where he was. 

Then, without warning, he leaned down and kissed you. 

It was unexpected, and yet, it felt like a ticking time bomb waiting to implode since the last time you had kissed. His lips were warm and insistent, but not in the way you expected from someone like him. There was no arrogance in the kiss, no dominance—just raw, unfiltered emotion, something both of you had kept buried beneath layers of pride and tension.

You stood frozen for a second, your breath catching in your throat. Then, instinct took over. You kissed him back. Your hands found their way to his chest, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt as you pulled him closer. His other hand slid around your neck, his fingers threading through your hair as he deepened the kiss. The world around you seemed to disappear. There was only the heat of his body, the press of his lips, and the racing pulse that had nothing to do with the party outside or the complicated mess that was your relationship with him. Everything felt raw and completely in the moment.

Sunghoon pushed you against the sink, the contrast of the cool porcelain was a godsend against the heat of your skin. With a gasp Sunghoon’s tongue was down your throat exploring the expanse of your mouth with his tongue. 

His hands pushed at you, lifting you up and onto the sink with ease you could only deem as incredibly sexy. 

“Fuck.” He breathed disconnecting his lips from yours, trailing them down your neck much like he did the day you two had kissed in his office. “Tell me to stop.” 

“No.” You gasped out “Dont..dont stop.” Your chest rose and fell rapidly, your hips raising yearning for some kind of friction. 

Sunghoon’s hand hungrily grabbed at your sides before sliding up to cup at your clothes breasts. His breath was warm against your skin, fanning over it in quick exhales. 

“Can i?” He asked, a sense of urgency in his tone as he toyed with the hem of your tights under the dress you wore. Nodding dumbly you watched as Sunghoon made quick work of pulling your tights down in one fell swoop. Your legs were bare as they hung over the side of the sink. Next to go were your panties leaving you completely out in the open for Sunghoon’s hungry eyes. He drank in the sight of you, his lips rising with a small smirk. “Can I touch you?” He asked. 

“Yes” You whimpered out. Once again raising your hips in a show of desperation. “Please” Sunghoon’s fingers ghosted your entrance, feather-like touches leaving you wanting and desperate. 

“Please..” You said pathetically, voice barely above a whisper. 

“Ok pretty..”Sunghoon cooed, running thumb over your clip, moving it in circular motions driving you absolutely mad. 

“You're so wet.” Sunghoon’s voice was ragged and hoarse almost as if he smoked a full carton of cigarettes. 

“Mhm” You moaned “Only for you.” You tried to settle your moans not wanting anyone outside the door to hear you, but the way his fingers were working you up and down had made that task nearly impossible. 

“I need to taste you.” Before you could say anything else Sunghoon dipped his head down, his hungry mouth lapping up the juices dripping from your wet cunt. 

“Oh fuck.” You hissed out arching your back off the sink in pleasure. Your hands were in Sunhoon’s hair pulling and yanking for any form of leverage. “Fuck, fuck.” 

Sunghoon’s tongue made circles on your slit, your vision blurry with tears. The overstimulation of the moment is almost too much to bear. 

“Oh my god.” You whispered looking down to watch as Sunghoon hungrily ate you out. His actions were comparable to a starving man. It was hot, almost too hot for you to handle. 

“Keep…” You breathed “Keep going.. I’m almost there.” 

“Yeah?” Sunghoon teased, lifting his mouth for just a split second. 

“Mhm” You nodded “Holy-” Your body jolted. You would have fallen right off the sink if it weren't for Sunghoon’s hand holding you in place. Your legs shook with intensity. Sunghoon sucked on your clit, the slurping sound a catalyst to your already awaiting orgasm. 

“Oh.” You squeaked “I’m cumming” Your end hit you like a train, blinding your vision with a sheen of white. Your eyes rolling to the back of your skull, it must have been the most intense orgasm you've ever experienced. Steadying your breathing, Sunghoon pulled back. A shit eating grin on his face as he wiped his lips with the back of his hand. 

“Holy shit” You breathed out. Holding the edge of the sink firmly in your hands. You rose your legs trembling from the mind numbing orgasm you had just had. “I’ve never come that hard in my life.” 

“That was just my tongue.” Sunghoon’s face had a smug smirk on it, one that said he was proud of the service he just provided. 

“We should talk-” 

“Please, for tonight let's just not.” His voice held desperation. You couldn't ignore how bad it seemed he didn't want to talk about the reality of what just happened. Quite frankly, neither did you. You'd rather be living in this happy little bubble you put yourself into. 

“Come back to my place?” His question caught you off guard. The look of shock not going unnoticed by Sunghoon as he smiled warmly. “If you want to, of course.” He assured you. You didn't have to think it through for very long before you found yourself nodding, agreeing that you would go back with him to his apartment where you were certain you'd be doing much more than what you did in here. But for right now you didnt care. You didn't want to think about what the repercussions of what you were doing and what you were about to do would be. 

Just for tonight you wanted to be blissfully unaware of the real world and what would happen on monday once you saw Sunghoon again. Tonight you were just a girl and Sunghoon was just a guy. Two people who wanted to have fun after a night out at the bar. A girl could pretend and that's exactly what you would be doing. 

“How are we going to get out of here without Jay and Wonyoung noticing?” You questioned. The last thing you wanted was questions from Wonyoung asking what you were just doing and also what you were about to do. You wanted to just do it. 

“Jay texted me that he took Wonyoung home. Turns out after we stormed off she down half a bottle of vodka because of the stress. She’s wasted right now.” 

You made a mental note to call Wonyoung in the morning. You worried that tonight had been too much for her. You didn't want her to think any of this was her or Jay’s fault, you didn't blame them one bit for what happened tonight, even if it was Wonyoung who forced you to come in the first place. And they for certain had to know of Sunghoon’s plan to hire someone who could be their scapegoat for the project. But that was a discussion for another day, right now all you were worried about was getting to the car unnoticed. 

“Thank god.” You sighed out. “Hopefully everyone else is too drunk to care why we're leaving together.” 

“Oh none of them really care.” Sunghoon laughed. “They're all like npc's, they just move around the office emotionless.” 

Laughing, you put your tights and panties back on before following Sunghoon out the door of the bathroom and back into the dimly lit bar. The Christmas music blaring over the loudspeakers and people laughed and joked with one another. Sunghoon latched onto your hand, dragging you outside of the bar and away from everyone. 

“My car is just down here.” He continued to pull you as you followed after him like a little duckling following their mother. 

Once you got to his car you admired the sleek black range rover for only a second before you pushed yourself in. Suddenly a giddy feeling overwhelmed your senses. You were excited to go back with Sunghoon. You weren't stupid you knew what was about to happen. Sunghoon hopped into the driver's side of the car, taking off with ease. 

“I don't live far from here.” He spoke quietly now, quieter than he was in the bar. You rolled the window down to get some air in, feeling suddenly hot. 

The night was crisp, and the hum of the car engine seemed to carry the weight of everything that had happened. Sunghoon was driving, his fingers tense on the wheel, the road ahead illuminated by the glow of streetlights that flickered past in a steady rhythm. The air between you felt heavy, thick with the tension of what had just unfolded.It seemed that both of your minds began to wander, thinking about what it was exactly the two of you were doing. 

“Are you ok with what's about to happen?” Sunghoon suddenly asked. It was a dangerous question. And you knew that the right answer was supposed to be "no," that professional boundaries were sacred, that nothing should have happened between you two. But in this moment, everything felt irrelevant. The company, the rules, the reason for you being hired. None of it seemed to matter in the wake of that moment spent in the bar bathroom. 

“Yes” I whispered hoarsely “I shouldn't be but I am..” You took a deep agonizing breath “I really am.” 

“Are you ok with what's about to happen?” You now asked him. 

“Yes.” His answer was short and straight to the put but his single word held so much power. It was all the confirmation you needed to know that tonight was a night to forget about the semantics of it all. How long has it been since you've been touched? Since you've had sex? So long you couldn't even begin to remember. 

You missed being vulnerable with someone enough to allow them to see all of you. 

Finally when Sunghoon stopped his far in front of a large apartment building you could only assume was his you had the feeling of nervousness in your belly. 

You had felt like this since walking into the bar earlier. It was a different kind of nervous though, this was an excited nervous, and when you reached his apartment and walked inside you could only describe the feeling you felt as an overwhelming sense of excitedness. 

Sunghoon took your jacket off slowly, pushing it down your body, careful to brush his fingers ever so slightly against your skin. 

“Do you want wine?” He asked you. You hummed a yes at him. You looked around his apartment admiring the beautiful art that had adorn the walls. 

He had an expensive taste you would give him. His apartment was something out of a catalog so perfectly…Sunghoon. The furniture was sleek black leather polished to perfection. The rug had a cool dark grey tone, it looked warm and fuzzy. You fantasized Sunghoon having his way with you on top of it. The thought had your cheeks warming with blush. 

“Here you go.” Sunghoon whispered from behind you. He handed you a wine glass filled ¾ the way with red wine. 

‘Thank you.” You took the glass in your hands, taking a sip moaning at the sweet taste of it. Sunghoon watched you with a look of fascination, a hint of deep and desirable lust mixed in.

“I didn't know watching someone drink wine could be so…sexy.” Sunghoon licked his lips, the action causing a shiver to run down your spine straight to your core, just where you needed him most. 

“Really?” You purred, bringing the wine glass close to your lips before taking a small sip. You made sure to look at Sunghoon through your lashes looking up at him with a pouty smile. Something that had certainly sent his mind haywire. 

“Can i fuck you?” He asked outright. Surprised by his candor you said nothing for a second, blinking at him as he awaited your answer. You nodded dumbly feeling the wetness in your panties already. 

“Use your words sweetheart.” Sunghoon took the wine glass from your hand, setting it down onto the island beside you. 

“Yes.” Your voice was barely above a whisper as you muttered the words. “Please” 

Sunghoon circled you and his gaze darkened. His big hands made careful work of slowly moving your hair to the side to expose your neck. Sensually he brought his lips down kissing up with feather-like touchess, hips lips just barely touching the skin. It had you aflame, your body felt akin to his like this was something right, like the two of you were meant to be this close, to be touching one another. 

He reached your jaw in no time, then your check. He titled your head towards his, finally connecting your lips as he held onto your chin. The kiss was deep and you savored every second his mouth was attached to yours. Suddenly without warning Sunghoon’s hand left your chin and traveled down the expanse of your body all the way to your thighs where he used both hands to lift you. A yelp let your lips in surprise, then a giggle. 

“I’ve been thinking about this moment for weeks.” Sunghoon’s voice was deep, almost raspy. It had your core throbbing at the sound, your heart picking up speed in tandem. “I’ve been waiting for the day i could have you sprawled across my bed completely naked, ready and wanting, just for me.” His words had your mind reeling as he tossed you down onto his bed. His plush duvet and mattress softened the blow. 

You looked up at Sunghoon with wide eyes and puffy lips as pure arousal coursed through you, he ended up doing something, anything, and now. Your desperation for him was palpable. Your body is electrified with need for him. 

“Really?” You couldn't help but ask. Truthfully you found it hard to believe that Sunghoon had been thinking about you this way for almost the entirety of knowing you, but you'll let it slide.

“Mhm” He hummed as he pulled your tights down your legs for the second time that night. His body rose skillfully, taking off his jacket, then his dress shirt until his upper half was completely bare to your wandering eyes. 

“You're beautiful” You marveled, resting your hands on his shoulders as he came back down. His lips connected back to yours in a hungry kiss, his hands pushing your dress up just enough that your panty covered heat was exposed. Sunghoon’s fingers circling your covered core apply light pressure but not enough to satisfy the need brewing inside of you. 

“I need you.” You whimpered out raising your hips in a show of desperation. Sunghoon chuckled, a smirk on his lips. 

“How bad do you need me?” He was teasing you, playing with you and it hurt so good. 

“So bad.” You whined as you ran your hands down his shoulders to his torso then over his groin where his very prominent hard on presented itself even in the confines of his jeans. 

You began your own teasing, rubbing your hands over him causing a hiss to leave his lips in pleasure. 

“Don't tease me.” Sunghoon grit the words out as his breathing became more ragged with every movement of your hand. 

“Your first.” You shot back at him. 

Sunghoon’s hands were quick as he yanked your paanties down in one fail swoop. Then running up to the hem of your dress pulling it over your head and off your body just as quickly. 

You weren't wearing a bra, it wasn't needed for the type of dress you were wearing. You were now completely naked and ready for Sunghoon. 

Sunghoon lifted himself away from you to take off his pants and boxer shorts, the loss of warmth from his body leaving you shivering. 

You were really about to do this. You were about to have sex with your boss. The thought made you nervous all over again, but also excited? It’s been so long since you've been touched and to be touched by such a beautiful man like Sunghoon? You were heaven and there was truly no way this was real life. 

Your thoughts were pulled from you as soon as Sunghoon’s lips met the skin of your stomach trailing up until he reached your breast. Cupping the left with his big hand he attacked his mouth to the right, sucking on your nipple. 

“Oh.” You squealed, running your hands through his hair and down his neck. “Please.”

“Please what baby?” The pet name left you a puddle of yourself coupled with the pure arousal coursing through your veins at the simplest of touches he left on your heated skin. 

“Please fuck me.” You were done waiting for him. You needed him, now. The throb of your clit was overwhelming as it called for some kind of relief. 

“Since you asked so nicely..” Sunghoon readied himself at your entrance, tapping the tip against your slit a few times before finally sinking in. Slowly at first allowing you to get used to the stretch of him inside of you. 

“Is that ok?” He asked you slowly, pushing his hips back and forth. You nodded, struggling to find the words to say. 

“Fuck.” Sunghoon moaned “You’re fucking tight.” His hips gradually moved faster now smacking against yours lewdly. 

“That’s it.” You chanted “Faster please.” You pleaded with him, begging him to satisfy the craving deep inside of you. 

“You're greedy..” He tsked at you as he slowed his hips. He was teasing you again, torturing you and your need for him. Your legs trembled as you whimpered and moaned for him to move faster, harder, anything. 

“Greedy.little.thing” He punctuated each word with a slam of his hips against yours. His balls slapping against the base of your ass. “How bad do you want it?” 

“So bad.” Your hips lifted from the bed but Sunghoon made quick work of pushing them down, his grip harsh and firm, surely leaving the skin bruised but you didn't care, not one bit. “I want it so bad.” 

With a gasp, Sunghoon pulled out suddenly leaving you with an empty feeling. “Sunghoon-” 

“Turn over.” His hands grabbed at your hips roughly turning you on your stomach. “Ass up Y/n” 

Arching your back Sunghoon took your hips, lining himself up with your entrance once again before slamming himself inside of you with a rough smack of hips against yours. He began a brutal pace. 

Moans leaving your lips like a mantra as he overwhelmed your senses, captivated your body with his as he took you sharply from behind with no mercy. The sharp sound of skin against skin coupled with your moans and his groans of pleasure were the only sounds to be heard. You lost yourself in one another as you allowed Sunghoon to take your body any way he wanted. He used your hole as his own personal fleshlight fucking you with a sense of urgency you had never seen him have before. It was maddening, and it was so so fucking hot. 

Your body gave way to him as your orgasm approached you with fast speed, an impending doom that you very much welcomed. But suddenly like the time before in his office your vision blurred, turning white and hazy behind your closed eyelids. 

Another unexplainable vision passed before your vision, one that just like the other had felt very real, very familiar. You were in a house, a warm and cozy house. The sides of your vision blurry; you're only focusing on the couple that currently occupied the bed. A man, Sunghoon, hovered above a woman who looked identical to you. They were having sex. It was slow, deliberate, it was…Romantic. The kind of sex you would have when you were in love. The fact was proven to you when you distantly heard the sound of your own voice whisper “I love you Sunghoon..” 

Then nothing. Your vision cleared and you were back to where you were before. On Sunghoon’s bed in his apartment, face down ass up as he pounded into your core from behind. The vision blinded you, surprised you. It had triggered the explosion awaiting inside of you as it hurtled you towards your end. 

“I’m cumming!” You squeaked “Holy fuck i’m cumming.” Sunghoon’s pace didn't let up. Actually, it became more brutal, more intense. 

Sunghoon gasped, whacking his hips against yours a few more times before stilling, spilling his load deep inside of you with one last heavy sigh. Your mind was blank as you tried to catch your breath. You didn't even register Sunghoon slipping out of you to grab a towel, and him cleaning you up. 

After a while of sitting in silence the lines that you blurred had started to take residence in your mind. What did this mean? How would you move forward? You were not entirely sure what it is you felt for Sunghoon. You knew that he pissed you off. You knew that what happened at the bar had hurt you more than you'd like to admit, and you also knew that you felt a pull to sunghoon unlike anyone else. It also didn't explain the random flashbacks that you got every time something intimate happened between the two of you. 

Flashbacks that had felt way too real. It was unexplainable, it was jarring. You've heard about things like this happening in fiction. In things like books and movies and even the old stories your grandmother would tell when she went on and on about the red string of fate, but certainly something like that was not real. This is reality. So what was happening to you? 

The silence in the room was deafening. 

“I’m not looking for a relationship,” Sunghoon finally broke the silence. With words you weren't really ready to hear. You should have known this would happen. He’s been more than clear before when you talked in a group about him getting into a relationship but still the words stung as they hung in the air around you, the silence back. 

“I-i think I should go.” You rose from your place on the bed, searching the dark floor for your things. 

“Y/n i-” You cut him off before he could get the words out. 

“It’s fine.” You pushed out. “You don't have to say anything.” 

“I think i should though, i need to explain-” Again, you cut him off. 

“You don't owe me anything, Sunghoon.” Your voice whispers. “We’re adults ok.” 

“At Least let me bring you home.” But you were already shaking your head, denying him. 

You messily put your clothes back on with only the dim lights cascading over you. 

“I’ll get an uber, really Sunghoon. It’s fine.” With that you were out the door. A fresh new set of tears falling from your eyes and onto your cheeks. You didn't even know why you were crying really. It seemed ridiculous but you were very dumb. Dumb to think even for a second there was more to this than sex. To consider him as someone who would..care for you in that way. Stupid, stupid, stupid you were. 

Did you even want that? A relationship with Sunghoon? You didn't know. But you knew that you would be open to trying. Sunghoon was a man you could see yourself falling for if given the chance, but you wouldn't be. And maybe that's for the better. 

It was late by the time you got home. Allowing yourself a bowl of ice cream before bed. You sent Wonyoung a text letting her know you got home and for her to text you when she woke up. There was no way you’d be telling Wonyoung what had happened tonight with Sughoon, not a chance. 

Over Sunday you laid in bed most of the day, your mind only on Sunghoon and what you had felt. The sex..well, the sex was phenomenal. You wouldn't deny that. You didn't want Sunghoon thinking he left you wounded though. The strong independent women in you wanted you to walk into the office with your head held high like nothing in this world bothered you. Like you knew you were hot shit and nobody could take that away from you. But unfortunately that way of thinking was unrealistic for you. You were not the confident, take charge type of woman you aspired to be. But you could be, and that would start with Sunghoon. 

You had the brilliant and not at all damaging idea to march into his office and propose something he could not turn down. An agreement of sorts. 

And on Monday you do just that as you march into the office building with faux confidence. Be-lining straight for his office you knock on the door. Opening it without another word. Seeing Sunghoon sat there at his desk, mid typing. He looks up at you with a flash of shock across his face. 

You close the door, twisting the lock behind you. 

The air between you feels electric, thick with all the things you’ve both avoided saying. It’s a strange feeling, being here, in front of him after what the two of you did Saturday night. 

“I’m not here to complicate things,” you finally say, voice a little rougher than you’d like. You glance at him, wondering if he thinks you look utterly ridiculous. “Friends with benefits. No strings. That’s the deal.” 

The look of pure shock on his face doesn't go unnoticed, his mouth opening then closing trying to find the words to say to your…proposition. 

“What?” he asks finally, standing from his desk to move closer to you. 

“You said you don't do relationships. What happened Saturday was..amazing Sunghoon. So I'm asking you. Friends with benefits?” You could feel your confident resolve fading, the embarrassment settling in at the look on Sunghoon’s face. 

“You really want to do this?” he asks, voice steady, though there’s a look in his eyes you can’t quite place, one of uncertainty. You’ve never been good at keeping things casual.  A rivalry, a competition, a good round of banter—you know the rules of that game. But this... this feels like a completely new kind of contest. And something tells you that neither of you is walking away without losing something. But there’s a part of you that can’t help but lean in closer, feel the pull of whatever this is between you. You’ve danced around it for too long.  

"Okay," He trailed off. "If we’re doing this, we need to be clear. No... misunderstandings. I know this isn't your thing, I know you're nervous. Even if you're trying to hide it." 

You’ve always been good at setting boundaries, at keeping things professional. But this? This is different. This isn’t just a professional arrangement. This is... personal, you've crossed a line. You crossed it when the two of you kissed, and even more so when you had sex. What’s one more? 

"Look, I’m not nervous," you say, your voice a little too defensive. "But if we’re doing this... if we’re going to be friends with benefits, we need to have some ground rules. Clear ones. No exceptions." 

He leans forward slightly, his eyes fixed on yours with that intensity that always makes you second-guess yourself. “Alright. I’m listening.” 

You take a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. This is what you’ve wanted, right? This is how you wanted to proceed. This is what you convinced yourself you could handle, you've never been that type of girl before but now, you were going to try. Even if you could end up burned, your heart shattered. Was this decision all that wise? You didn't know. you feel exposed. Vulnerable. Like everything you’ve worked to protect is teetering on the edge of collapse.

“I’m not looking for anything complicated,” you start, focusing on the words to keep yourself grounded. “This is just... physical. Nothing more. No emotional baggage. No trying to change anything.” You hold his gaze, even though your palms are starting to sweat. "We’re just doing this to scratch an itch. And then we walk away, no strings attached." You're lying. Oh god, you're lying. This is a recipe for disaster. 

Sunghoon nods slowly, as if considering the terms. “Fair enough. No emotional attachment, no complications.” He smirks again, and it makes your stomach do an anxious flip. “But you’re not worried about catching feelings, are you?” His playful nature sent your stomach turning, how could he be so calm? So collected. 

You scoff, though there’s a nervous edge to it. "Please. You think I’m going to fall for you?" You try your hardest to seem composed, it was working. The words sound harsher than you mean them to, but the reality is that you do worry. A part of you fears that this could slip into something more, something deeper, despite your best efforts. And the last thing you want is to make this even messier than it already is. 

“Just making sure we’re on the same page,” he says, leaning back in his chair again, his expression unreadable. “But I’ll play by the rules. No emotions. No attachments. And no... complicated goodbyes.” 

You nod, but the knot in your stomach tightens. You weren’t sure what you were expecting when you agreed to this, but now that you’re spelling everything out, it feels far more real than you’re ready for. “One more thing,” you add, your voice quieter now. “We keep this private. No one at the office knows. No one. Not even Wonyoung and Jay.” 

Sunghoon tilts his head, considering you with that sharp, calculating look that makes you feel like you’re being sized up. “Of course. You think I’m going to go around broadcasting this? We’ll never hear the end of it.” 

The way he says it so confidently, so assured only makes your anxiety spike. You can’t help but wonder if he’s done this before. How many others has he had these “arrangements” with? You push the thought aside, unwilling to give into your own insecurities. 

"Good," you say, the words coming out a little more firmly than you feel. "And lastly... no mixing business with pleasure. Work stays work." You emphasize the last word, hoping he’ll hear the seriousness in your voice. 

You see the glimmer of amusement in his eyes, like he knows exactly what you’re getting at. “Of course. But if the workday does end early one day, I’m sure we can both find ways to... entertain ourselves.”

“Were not fucking at work Sunghoon.” You feel your face flush, and you hate it. You’ve spent so much time keeping it together, maintaining control. But now, with him in front of you, with this new arrangement, you’re on the edge of something that makes you feel both exhilarated and terrified. 

Sunghoon’s eyes soften just a little, and you swear you see something resembling sincerity flicker across his face. “I promise. No pressure. We keep it casual. I’m not here to complicate things... unless you want to.” He gives you a knowing look, the one that always makes your heart race, like he can read you better than you’d like to admit. 

“I don’t want to,” you reply quickly, almost too quickly. Your voice comes out more defensively than you mean it to, and you hate how transparent you feel in this moment, but you have a feeling you’d be doing a lot more than just work when you come in everyday. His hold on you terrified you just a little bit. It feels like you’ve just signed some invisible contract. The rules are clear—at least, as clear as they can be. But you know yourself better than this. You know that this isn't something you would typically do, And now you’re about to step into uncharted territory, where the stakes are higher than you ever imagined. 

“You sure you’re alright with this?” Sunghoon asks, his tone soft now, almost too casual for how serious the situation feels.

“I’m sure,” you say, your voice steadier than you feel. 

He stares at you for a moment, the quiet hanging between you. It feels like he’s measuring you, weighing your words, before he finally nods. “It’s a deal, then.” 

You nod, your breath finally evening out. You’ve set the rules, and so far, they sound simple enough. “Deal.” though you’ve set the boundaries, though you’ve promised yourself this won’t get complicated, deep down, you know it already is. 

It had been a few days since the two of you made your agreement, and to say it's been a bit awkward would be an..understatement. It seemed the two of you didn't quite know how to break the ice. In the bathroom of that bar was easy, you had been heated, in an argument your emotions were running high. You both ran on pure adrenaline to get you going. 

Sunghoon still acted himself when it came to the project, but not as bad which you were grateful for. He let up a little, let you take the reins. 

Wonyoung noticed the shift in your attitude towards each other. She had asked you what seemed like a million times about what happened in the bathroom that night but all you would say is that Sunghoon apologized, that you had come to an understanding. 

She didn't buy it, of course but she decided to leave it alone for now, holding onto the fact that you would eventually spill like you did with the kiss. Little did she know that this was much more than that. 

There was no way in hell you'd be telling her that you and Sunghoon slept together and there was no way you'd be telling her that you agreed to continue. No.strings.attached. God, what were you thinking? And why did the thought of sneaking around excite you so much. You didnt realize you were your own fucking maschoist but here you were. 

Walking into the office today felt a little heavier than usual. The air is tense and stiff. Minji greeted you with a tight lipped smile void of all its usual sunshine and warmth. 

“What's going on?” You asked Wonyoung as soon as you sat down at your desk for the day. 

“The big boss is in.” She whispered to you, trying to keep her voice low. “He’s tearing Sunghoon a new one.” 

“What?” The word fell from your lips too loud it seemed based on the shush Wonyoung sent your way. “Why?” You said quieter this time. 

“Suyu hated the draft we sent. The boss is capital P pissed.” Your eyes knit in worry. You thought about the conversation at the bar. The one that fueled the big fight you and Sunghoon had. He was using you as a scapegoat, was he not? Still he is being ridiculed. How strict were these girls and why did they hate every single thing Seoul magazine did. Why even keep coming back? You just didn't understand. 

And if it were so widely known by the company, why is Sunghoon getting the brunt of it. Obviously nothing will please these girls no matter how much all of you try. 

“Why do they keep coming if they hate us so much?” 

“Suyu is like in love with Sunghoon, but he rejected her. I think it's some kind of revenge. I don't know, that girl is crazy.” Wonyoung huffed. “Great, now Sunghoon’s going to be in a shit mood all day.” 

Her words served as a catalyst to your next idea, an idea that’ll help you break the ice with Sunghoon. You told yourself you wouldn't do this at work, but you couldn't think of a better place to get Sunghoon’s mind off of his boss and Suyu. So, you waited. You waited a whole hour till the sound of Sunghoon’s office door opening was heard by the entire floor. The booming voice of what you could only assume was the big boss. He turned the corner entering the cubicles with a scowl on his face. He was an older man, balding with deep wrinkles. He definitely looked..aged. He walked down the hallway with an emotionless expression that had a shiver running down your spine in intimidation. 

You couldn't believe you ever thought Sunghoon was intimidating, this man was pure intimidation to its core. He looked angry and that was something you definitely didn't want to deal with. A part of you began to feel defensive as he walked down the hall getting closer and closer to passing by your desk. 

How dare he blame Sunghoon or anyone else for that matter for Suyu and her members not liking the cover. From what you've been hearing she didn't like anything. How could you fail your employees who were working tirelessly on a project destined for failure. The corporate word was brutal, and this right here was proof. 

It had your blood boiling. You could only imagine what Sunghoon was feeling. Luckily the man passed by your desk with ease, not stopping to check out the newcomer. And as soon as he was out of your sight and you were sure he wasn't coming back you rose from your seat with a newfound confidence. One you didn't see from yourself very often. 

It must have been your lucky day because Wonyoung was no longer at her desk, she wouldn't be able to spot you leaving in the direction of Sunghoon’s office. 

When you turned the corner coming face to face with his door your heart began to quicken in your chest as the reality of what you were about to do set in. knocking on the door you awaited for his response, it was a quick and curt “Come in.” If you weren't so insanely nervous you'd be turned on by his tone alone. 

Sunghoon didn't bother to look up from his computer as you walked into the room, closing the door behind you and locking the door with one single click. The blinds to his clear glass windows were up, allowing anyone to peak in. You thank lord himself that his office was semi closed off from the rest of the floor. You grabbed the blinds, turning them so that they would come down, shielding the two of you from wandering eyes. When you turned back around Sunghoon’s eyes were now on you. His eyes gleamed curiously but also a hint of excitement? 

“What are you doing Y/n?” He asked with a low voice. 

“You seemed stressed.” You did your best at hiding the nervousness behind your voice. Masking it to the best of your ability. A smirk formed on his lips and you were slightly surprised by how fast he allowed you to infiltrate his office. 

“Yeah?” He asked, leaning back in his chair with a smug look. “I am quite stressed.” 

“I came to help.” You sent an innocent smile as you crossed your hands behind your back swaying your body lightly. “However you need me to.’ 

You walked up to his desk as he pushed his chair back, making room for you. You stood next to his sitting figure, placing your hands on his shoulders to steady yourself. Sunghoon looked up at you with a coy, very very sexy expression. His hands sneakily circled your waist pulling you closer to his lap. 

“However I want?” He hummed. 

You gasped softly as he grabbed at the flesh of your ass roughly in his big hands. He set a small smack to the clothes skin, a laugh bubbling in his chest when a sheen blush coated your cheeks. 

“You're so cute.” He teased with a smile, turning you into a puddle of yourself with one simple upturn of his lips. “Turn around.” He demanded. 

But before he could push you around to face his desk you stood firmly in place. Using your finger to his chest to send sitting back in his chair up right. Waiting and wanting for you. You were in charge here, not him. 

“No.” Your voice was stern, no sign of the nervousness brewing inside of you. “I’m in charge here.” 

“Are you now?” He said with a raised eyebrow. 

“Mhm” You hummed, falling to your knees in front of him. “I’m going to make you feel so good.” 

You made quick work of unzipping the zipper of his dress pants and pulling his length out before he could let out so much as a breath. 

“We don't have much time, so I'll need you to be quick.” Your words were accompanied by a small lick to the side of his length. All the way from the top to the very bottom. Sunghoon’s eyes darkened as he took in your kneeling figure before him. Gone was the sexy, smug smirk. A look of pure desperation in its place. 

“Can you do that?” You were teasing him, playing with him like a cat playing with a mouse. His breath came out short, his chest heaving. 

A single nod. Was all the confirmation he gave, along with a tight lip and the tilt of his head. You decided you were done teasing him. You attached your mouth to his length. Only half of him being able to fit before your gagging. 

“Holy f-fuck.” Sunghoon stuttered as you worked your mouth along his length, using your hand to cover the rest that wouldn't fit. 

“That’s so hot.” He hissed, his words serving as a catalyst for you to keep going. Your hand circled down cupping his balls in your hands. Giving a slight squeeze. 

“Oh fuck!” Sunghoon cupped his hands over his mouth to try and silence himself. The last thing we needed was for someone to hear you. 

Moving up and down faster and faster you were left waiting and wanting for Sunghoon to cum down your throat, excited for the warmth he would provide. 

You slipped him out of your mouth with a gasp, jerking him rapidly to keep your pace. “How’s that feeling?” You asked him, sticking your tongue out. 

“Go-oh fuck-good.” Sunghoon’s words were slurred as you slipped his dick back inside of the heat of your mouth, slurping and lapping like a hungry slut. 

“I’m close” He was wheezing, his chest rising and falling rapidly. “You want it in your mouth baby? You want me to cum down your little throat?” You nodded along his length, excited. 

“I’m almost there.” His voice now a whisper, his eyebrows knitted holding onto the arm of the chair with white knuckles. “I’m-oh” 

His cum shot down your throat on spurts as you lapped at him like a dog in heat, moaning. Draining him until he was empty and heaving. 

Your mouth left his length, wiping the sides messily. 

“Fuck.” Sunghoon tried to regulate his breathing and looked down at you with big wide eyes.  “What the hell was that for?” 

“You were stressed.” You shrugged your shoulders in an attempt at looking nonchalant but you weren't really sure if he was buying your act. 

“Well..Thank you?” He said it as a question, causing a laugh to bubble inside of you as clarity sent in. 

“Wonyoung said the boss was in here giving you a hard time. I just wanted to help you out.” 

“You did help me out. A lot.” His smile sent a warm feeling shooting through you, falling to the pit of your stomach. The feeling embarrassed you. This was a game you had to remind yourself of, just fun. Absolutely no strings attached, so why were you feeling so warm and fuzzy? Don't be ridiculous. 

“Is everything ok?” You asked. Sunghoon nodded, his smile falling from his face. 

“Suyu hated the cover, as we all knew she would. He was chewing me out for it. Says everything about it needs to change.” 

“What?” Your shock was palpable. Your anger is even more so. “There’s only two more months left.” You couldn’t imagine why the company would allow such abuse from a client, how could they want a group of people they know i'll be dissatisfied no matter what you did. It made no sense to you, and it angered you even more. You, Wonyoung, Jay, and Sunghoon have been working tirelessly on the cover for over a month now. It was unfair for them to come in and pick it apart. 

“Doesn’t matter.” Sunghoon said with a tired expression. “The company says scrap it, so we scrap it.” 

“Are they going to give us an extra month to work on it?” You questioned, you had a feeling you knew the answer to that already but still you waited for Sunghoon to respond. 

“No.” He answered, exactly as you knew he would. For some reason being prepared for his answer didn’t lessen the blow. “That’s bullshit.” You hissed out running a hand tiredly through your hair “And not fair.” 

“I know.” He responded. It was clear to you that Sunghoon was dejected. He knew that no matter how unfair it was that the company just wouldn’t budge. This was what they wanted and now you and the rest of your team were going to have to work ten times harder to get the cover done in time. 

The next monday Sunghoon isn’t in office. He’s off on a business trip until the end of the week and you couldn’t help but curse yourself every time you started to miss him. Sunghoon wasn’t your boyfriend. He was your boss and someone you were having sex with occasionally. Someone who has made you feel things you’ve never felt before. Especially during sex, and especially almost every time you and Sunghoon kissed or had sex, or sometimes even touched you were flashed with something that feels like a memory, a vision of something that felt familiar but you had never actually done before. You couldn’t figure it out. You were beginning to believe you were going crazy, that was the only plausible explanation for all this, right? 

At night you're left mulling over the fact that after even a month you still could not find your red bracelet. It was just…gone. It was even weirder to watch Sunghoon walk around with one exactly like it on his wrist, but he had no way of getting it. You had lost it the day you met him. He was rich and very well off. There was no way a man like Park Sunghoon would go through the trouble of stealing a dingy old red string that was close to falling apart any second, it just made no sense. 

They still didn’t erase the fact that it was nowhere to be seen, if it weren’t for your very very distracting month at this new job you were certain the absence of itt would drive you absolutely mad. 

Finally on what felt like an overwhelmingly long Wednesday you were home, alone in your solitude and you figured if you couldn’t find your red string, you’d be better off looking through the journals your grandmother left you. After the month you’ve had you could use her wisdom right about now. 

Your grandmother was your rock growing up, she was basically your mother and your father all rolled into one. You found your grandmother’s journals tucked away, in a small cardboard box in your closet. You hadn’t had the gull to open them since she died. You flipped through the pages one by one, reading all the words she left behind for you. 

You hadn’t realized you were crying until a singular tear fell onto the old yellowed pages of the journal leaving a wet stain in its wake. You had missed her, everyday and you knew you would continue to miss her. 

The pages your grandmother left you - had been full of advice. Advice about mundane things, like doing laundry or cooking with the best recipes. Some of the advice was more heavy, like what to do in case of a death, or a breakup or when you got married and had children. And some of the advice was also about love, and how she believed that soulmates were real. Tied together by the red string of fate you couldn’t see. When two people were connected solely to each other in all lifetimes. It would be beautiful if it were true. That’s what you always taught yourself. That it was a made up thing that only people in love believed. 

You continued to sift through her journal, to the portion where it became a daily write down of what she started doing throughout the days. You flip through the pages, each filled with words written in rich ink, her voice murmuring between the lines. Some entries are small snippets of her days—what she made for dinner, a flower she saw blooming outside, a storm rolling in from the east. Others are longer, winding passages that carry something heavier, something deeper. You read about her dreams, her fears, the love she once had and lost.

Then, a passage catches your eye, and your breath stills. The red string of fate never breaks, it reads. Even if cut, even if frayed, it finds a way to mend itself. There is no fighting destiny when it has set its sights on you. You swallow hard, your fingers tightening around the fragile edge of the paper. Your grandmother always told you about the red string, whispering its legend into your ear as she tucked you into bed. She told you that everyone had a soulmate, a person meant to be tied to them no matter the distance, no matter the circumstances. She had one, she’d said once, a man she loved but lost. But she never spoke of him much beyond that, only that he was real and that she had seen him in ways no one else could.

You continue reading, heart pounding. When you touch them, you will see. A glimpse, a flicker. The universe will reveal what you are meant to know. It will not be loud. It will not be obvious. But it will be there. Because you know exactly what she means. At least you think you did. The memories come flooding back, unbidden. The first time it happened, you were with Sunghoon, It had been fleeting, so quick you almost convinced yourself you imagined it. In his office the day the two of you kissed for the first time. Surely that is unlike what your grandmother was describing right?

But then, you remembered another time, the time you and Sunghoon had sex for the first time at his apartment, when he was deep inside of you, whispering filth into your ear, your vision blurred and overcome with a memory that had never happened before. You had seen a future that had never happened. You saw something that shouldn’t exist. You saw fragments of moments that had no place in your reality. You saw his smile beneath a different sun, heard his voice whispering your name like a prayer, felt an ache in your chest that wasn’t yours but still belonged to you.

You had written it off as nothing. A trick of the mind. The product of exhaustion. But here, in your grandmother’s journal, written in ink that had dried long before you were born, was an answer you never wanted to find. Visions come with touch. You slam the journal shut, chest rising and falling too fast. Your heartbeat roars in your ears. This is ridiculous. This is crazy. You’re not some character in a fairy tale. You don’t believe in soulmates. And even if you did - Even if you did…Sunghoon? It’s impossible. It’s just a coincidence. A trick of your mind. You refuse to entertain anything else.

Your hands tremble as you shove the journals back into the box, your grandmother’s words still lingering in the air. You try to shake them off, but they have already settled deep, weaving themselves into your bones like an undeniable truth. You take a breath and force yourself to move, to step away, to pretend that your heart isn’t beating in a rhythm that spells out a name. Sunghoon. And though you don’t want to, though you tell yourself you won’t - You start to wonder if your grandmother was right all along.

That night, your phone buzzes against the nightstand. The screen illuminates the dark room, casting a soft glow over the journals still left in disarray on the floor. It’s Sunghoon. You stare at his name, your stomach twisting in a way that feels unfamiliar. After everything you read tonight, after the storm brewing inside you, you should let it ring. Let it go to voicemail. Pretend you’re asleep, pretend you’re not affected. But you aren’t strong enough to resist him.

With a sigh, you swipe to answer. "Hey." There’s a pause, then a low chuckle on the other end. "Wow, you actually picked up. Thought I’d have to leave a dramatic voicemail about how I died of boredom without you." 

You roll your eyes, but your lips curve despite yourself. "Dramatic and pathetic. I expected nothing less." He hums, his voice warm, lazy. "Guilty. My meetings were dull as hell. Just numbers and more numbers. I was about five minutes away from faking a fire alarm to get out of there." You laugh softly, shaking your head. "You should've done it. Would’ve made the news.

"See, this is why I call you. You always encourage my worst ideas." His tone shifts, something teasing in the way he lingers over the words. A slow smile tugs at your lips before you can help it. "You must really be bored if you’re calling me instead of drinking overpriced whiskey at some networking event."

"Oh, I was bored. But now..." He exhales, slow and deliberate. "Not so much." A shiver traces your spine at the weight in his voice. He isn’t even here, and yet he still manages to reach inside you, find the parts of you that respond so easily to him. You swallow, shifting under the sheets. "Sunghoon—"

"What are you wearing?" It’s sudden, leaving your cheeks a bright red and mouth wide open in shock. 

You nearly choke. "Excuse me?" 

He laughs, unbothered. "Relax, and tell me. What are you wearing?” 

Your face burns, and you glare at the ceiling. "Oh my god." 

"What? It’s a totally normal question." He pushes, and you can see that smirk in your head. That smirk that you love so much. "It is not."

“So?” The nonchalance in his voice heats up your body, wishing he was here to satisfy the ache inside of you. You sigh, rubbing your temple. "A tank top and shorts."

There’s a hum of approval on the other end. "Cute. Wish I was there." Your breath hitches, pulse jumping in your throat. This isn’t new. The past few weeks you and Sunghoon have been pushing, teasing, toeing the line between playful and something heavier. But tonight, after everything, the weight of his words feels different. Dangerous.

"I should go to sleep," you say, though the thought of hanging up makes your chest tighten. "Yeah?" He sounds amused. "You tired? Or are you just afraid of where this conversation is going?" Your heart pounds, a war raging inside you. You should shut this down. You should keep your distance. But instead, you whisper, "I’m going to touch myself and think of you while doing it"

A sharp cough was heard over the speaker, then a hum. “You don’t have to go to do that.” He whispers, his voice now husky and low. It sends shivers down your spine and heat down your core. You really really wished he was here. “You can do it, while talking to me.” 

“W-what-” You stuttered out, your heart pounding in your chest. Was he suggesting phone sex? And were you seriously considering it? “Don’t leave.” He says and you could almost imagine the laid back smirk on his face, the shrug of his shoulders as if this was nothing, as if he did this all the time. That thought made you feel slightly queasy so you pushed far from your mind. 

“Okay..” You said softly. “What do I do?” Your voice was tight, unsure. You only hoped he didn’t notice how nervous you were. 

“Have you never done this before?” There was a hint of surprise in his tone, it made you acutely aware of just how inexperienced you are. 

“No.” You answered honestly, “Never.” 

“Fuck.” Sunghoon cursed on the other end. “That’s hot.” The words had left you dumbfounded, he thought your inexperience was…hot? “Take off your pants.” His voice lowered even more, becoming more husky and rasp. You felt the wetness in your panties already, you didn’t even have to look to know. That was the kind of effect Sunghoon had on you. You had very visceral reactions to him, you couldn’t help it. The man looked like a fucking god, and you did as he said. 

You lifted your hips slightly, sliding the pajama shorts you wore off in one fail swoop. “My panties too?-” 

“No!” Sunghoon hissed out. You jumped at the urgency in his voice. “No.” He said softer. “Just wait.” 

“Okay.” Sunghoon’s breath was a bit faster on the other end of the phone, heavier. You were no idiot, you knew his cock was in his hand, stroking up and down as he told you what to do with yourself. He was just as much a mess as you were, he was just better at hiding it. 

“Are you wearing a bra?” He asked with ragged breath. You shook your head “No.” Finding even the smallest word is hard to say. Sunghoon wasn't even here in the flesh and he still managed to take your breath away. Your own breath was ragged as his voice carried every single syllable with a rich sound. His tone captures your attention, shooting straight for your core. 

“Circle your clit over your panties, sweetheart.” Sunghoon instructed you. Your hand traveled down the expanse of your body as a small whimper escaped your lips. Your nimble fingers found your wet and waiting bud, rubbing it over your panties creating the most delicious feeling coursing through your veins. 

“Nice and slow, okay?” You nod your head even though he can’t see you. A small “uh-huh” escaping your mouth and into the receiver. 

“Good girl..keep going.” You continued your slow and torturous rhythm over your clit. It felt good but you needed …more. Your hips rise off the bed as you search for any form of release. Your body was wanting, your moans needy. You knew that Sunghoon was well aware just how badly you needed him. How badly you craved him but this was all you could get, and you’d take it for now. 

“How wet are you, baby?” Sunghoon’s breath was even more ragged than before, the tune of his chest heaving serving as a catalyst to your need for. “So wet…” You mewed out the land not on your clit stuck clutching at your bedsheets for dear life. “I need more..” 

“Okay, sweetheart..” He cooed with slight amusement. “Pull your panties to the side and stick one; just one finger in..” You hum doing as he instructed with quick precision. The slide of your finger inside of you was potent. You needed this, and although it was not as good as Sunghoon this was certainly second best given the circumstances. “Now move your fingers in and out..slow though.” 

“Fuck.” You whined, your hips leaving your bed once again. Your other hand traveled up the side of your body cupping your tit in your palm and squeezing. “I wish I could see you hoon..” You sighed out. Sunghoon’s breathed hitched a soft puff of air leaving his lips like the melody to your favorite song. You’d get drunk on the sounds of his moans if you could, bottle them up and savor every single hum, every single tune. 

“I know, baby. I wish I could see you too..” He trailed off. “I know you look so pretty with your fingers stuffed in your pretty little cunt.” His words shot shivers up your spine, your end already nearing. From the sound of his moans and groans it was obvious he was pretty close as well. 

“Add another one.” He demanded suddenly. You did as he said, adding another finger roughing moving them in and out of you. “Fucking- i can hear how wet you are from here.” 

“I’m so fucking wet-oh god.” Your legs shook your ending near dangerously close. “I’m close-” 

“Me too sweetheart keep going.” The only other sound on the other end of the phone was Sunghoon’s grunts and groans as the two of you catapulted to your end, your orgasm hitting you like a tidal wave. Pleasure washing over you and blurring your vision. 

“Oh my god.” You huffed. Sunghoon’s breathed slowed neither of you saying a word for close to five minutes, just basking in the post orgasm clarity. 

“Uh..” Sunghoon breahed over the end of the receiver, his voice back to normal now void of the lustful words he was just muttering to you. “Thanks.” He said. Thanks. “I- i should go. Meeting in the morning.” 

“S-sure.” You stuttered out awkwardly. “Goodnight, see you soon.” The two of you hung up and all that was left was the silence of your empty apartment aside from you. You could hear the beating of your own heart in your ears as slow realization started to settle in. You were starting to fall for Sunghoon, like the fool you were. 

Sunghoon comes back the next monday, and the moment you see him at the office, all the doubts that had clouded your mind dissolve under the heat of his gaze. He doesn’t say anything, he doesn’t have to. but when your eyes meet across the meeting room, a slow, knowing smile curves his lips. That night, it happens again. In his office, door locked, his mouth on yours before you can even drop your bag. Later, in the backseat of his car after a late dinner with the team. Then again the next morning, in your apartment kitchen, the scent of coffee mixing with the sound of your quiet gasps.

You can’t stay away from each other. Every opportunity you have you take it. You fall back into it with him; it's reckless and urgent, as though nothing had changed. But it has. You have. You were falling from him, stupidly so and you didn't know what to do. The visions still come. Stronger now. They strike like lightning, hot and bright; brief, impossible glances into a life that feels half yours. Every time he touches you, it’s there: a home you’ve never seen, a child’s laugh echoing from another world, his hand in yours under unfamiliar stars. And worse, your heart aches for him when he isn’t near. You think about him when you shouldn’t. You crave the sound of his voice, the small way he furrows his brow when he’s deep in thought, the gentle way he tugs your wrist when he wants your attention but can’t say it aloud. 

Wonyoung notices. Just like you knew she eventually would, that girl wasn’t dumb she was bound to connect the dots. But like you and Sunghoon agreed. No one could know. Not even her and Jay, who you wanted to tell so badly. She corners you in the lounge one afternoon, her voice low but sharp. "Are you sleeping with Sunghoon?" 

You nearly drop your coffee. "What? No. That’s- why would you even ask that?” Deny. deny. deny. no matter what, you have to deny it. She folds her arms. "Because you’ve been weird. Both of you. And don’t even try to lie. You’ve got your guilty face on." 

You look away, feigning casual interest in the humming vending machine. "You’re imagining things." 

​​"Jay said Sunghoon’s been acting weird too. Moody. Distracted. Like, smiling during budget meetings." You tried to not let her words fool you. It was strictly about sex with Sunghoon that was all, nothing more nothing less. Him smiling could have been about anything. Sunghoon’s life did not revolve around you, that was for certain. You want to grin at the thought of this being something more, but you're not an idiot. So instead, You snort. "That is suspicious." 

She doesn’t laugh. "Come on. I’m not judging you. I just want to know what’s going on. Are you okay?" That question cuts deeper than you expect. Are you okay? You don’t know. Because you can’t tell your best friend that the man you’re sleeping with- the man who is your boss, your complication, is also possibly the person fate tied you to long before you were even born. The man you're falling in love with but is clearly not interested in you that way. You force a smile. "I’m fine. Really."

Wonyoung studies you for a long beat before sighing. "Just… be careful, okay? Whatever this is, don’t lose yourself in it." You nod, but the truth is, it’s already too late. You’re tangled in it. In him. And you don’t know how to find your way out. You felt like you were drowning and you had no one to shout for to help you, to throw you a raft that would save your life. 

For times like this you truly missed your grandmother. You missed her wisdom, you missed her comfort. Life truly was not fair. One could even call it cruel to take the one person in this world who understood you most. 

That night, you sit alone on your bed, the city’s glow smudged outside your window, the journals beside you once more. You open one with hesitant fingers, seeking your grandmother’s voice like a balm. She would know what to say. She’d tell you to listen to your heart, to trust the quiet truths hidden in touches and dreams. She’d tell you that the red string does not lie, and that love- true love is rarely convenient or safe.

If your heart is confused, it’s because it’s being rewritten, she once wrote. Love doesn’t always ask permission to change us. It simply does. And with Sunghoon, you are changing. Becoming someone softer, someone braver. Someone terrified. You press your fingers to the page and wonder: if she were here now, would she tell you to leap? Or would she warn you to run? You close the journal, and all you can think about is the way he looked at you today. Like he already knew. Like maybe he’s wondering the same thing too.

The call comes at 5:12 AM. Shaking you from your sleep in the dead of night. Your phone buzzes against your nightstand, the shrill sound tearing through the quiet like a blade through silk. The sky outside is still the bruised blue of predawn. You fumble for your phone, blinking blearily at the screen. Mom.

Your breath catches. You haven’t seen her name light up your phone since the day they buried your grandmother. Five years of silence stretched like frost between you, untouched and unthawed. Your thumb hovers. You think of ignoring it. But something in your chest twists; tight, sharp. You have to answer it. Your mother wouldn’t be calling you for no reason. There had to be a reason and it had to be a bad one. 

“Hello?” Your voice is husky from sleep still laced in it. Your eyes heavy lidded. There’s a beat of silence. Then her voice, thin and unfamiliar, like wind pressed through a cracked window. “Your father died.” The words hit like a slap, so sudden they leave your mind blank. No preamble. No explanation. Just a raw, stripped-bare truth. 

“What?” you whisper. Disbelief seeping into your bones, into your core and through your blood straight to your heart. Your…father…dead? She exhales; soft, almost annoyed. “He had a heart attack. A month ago.” She says it like it was an inconvenience. Like you were some passer-byer in her life. Like you meant very little, nothing. And you should be used to this feeling from her, but you werent. And you didn't think you would still be feeling it when you find out your very own father has died. 

The air in your lungs evaporates. “A-a month ago?” You stutter out because it's the only thing you can think to say at the moment. 

“We already had the funeral,” she says. “There wasn’t any reason to drag you into it. We didn’t think you’d care.” Each word was like a blow, over and over she didn't let up, didn't let you come up for air. No, she's watching you drown and she doesn't care. The words echo in your skull like a curse. 

You sit up slowly, your voice barely there. “You didn’t tell me. You didn’t even call.” There’s a pause, long and uncomfortable. “You made your choice when you left. We didn’t think you wanted anything to do with us anymore.” An unexplainable sorrow seeped into your bones. Your heart dug a grave in your chest, laying in the hollow confines of your chest unmoving, unbreathing as the breath was stolen from your lungs with every word she muttered. With every single careless word she threw at you. 

The anger comes in a slow burn, hot and low in your chest. You squeeze your eyes shut, try to breathe through it, but it festers. You had fought for your own life. For the right to step away from the toy shop that had become your parents’ shrine. For the right to be. Your grandmother had understood. She had stood in your corner when no one else would. She raised you while they drowned in their work. She held your hand through your first heartbreak. She showed you how to be soft in a world that tried to harden you. She’s the only one who ever had your back, and even in death that was apparent. And now this.

“I’m still his daughter,” you whisper. “I still had a right to know.” You didn’t know how to argue with her. How to tell her how hurt you were, you weren't even sure she would care if you did. If it was even worth the trouble. “I’m telling you now,” she says, like that counts. Like it erases the month of silence, the funeral you didn’t attend, the grave you didn’t get to stand over. You want to scream. You want to cry. You want to crawl into your grandmother’s lap and let her brush the world out of your hair. But she’s gone. And now your father is, too. Your throat tightens. Your heart aches in places you thought you’d fortified long ago.

The call ends without resolution. Just the dull tone of disconnection. You sit in the dark, staring at nothing, until the light spills slowly across your floor, illuminating dust motes like falling stars. And still, the silence presses in. Not even the city outside dares to speak.

You curl into yourself, as small as you can be, and let the grief take you. Not for the man your father was, but for the chance to make it right. For the words you’ll never get to say. For the goodbye stolen from you like everything else. Somewhere, you hope your grandmother is watching. And you wonder what she would tell you now. Mourn, my love, she’d say. Even if they didn’t love you the way they should have, your heart still deserves to break. 

You don’t go to work the next day. Calling in with the guise of being sick. You don’t check your phone, don’t answer the emails stacking themselves like bricks behind the glass of your locked screen. You don’t speak. There’s a silence inside you now that stretches so wide it makes the whole world seem distant, like you're floating somewhere outside of time. Wonyoung calls, Jay calls, even Sunghoon but you don’t answer. You can’t. What would you even say? Hey, I'm mourning the loss of my father who hated me, who didn’t even want me around. My father who loved his toy shop more than his daughter. 

You sit by the window as the sun rises, too slow, too cruel. You watch it paint gold on buildings that don’t care you’re hurting. The city hums on without you, cars in motion, people in routine, everything ticking forward as if the foundation of your childhood didn’t just crack clean down the middle. A month. They buried him a month ago. Placed him into the earth like he was already forgotten. You press your forehead to the glass, eyes burning but dry. There are no tears yet. Only the weight. The kind that sits on your chest and makes it hard to breathe. 

Your father is dead. Gone in the kind of quiet your family has always been good at. No announcement, no open arms, no room left for the wreckage of feelings. They buried him like a secret. Like he hadn’t raised you, even if poorly. Like he hadn’t once lifted you onto his shoulders to reach the highest shelf of the toy shop. Like he hadn’t once smiled when you built your first little wooden horse beside him, stained your fingers with varnish and paint. You didn’t love him the way daughters are told they should love their fathers. But you tried. You tried even when he didn’t see you, when the only things that ever lit up his eyes were the shelves of handcrafted dolls and tin soldiers. 

When you left home, it wasn’t just leaving. It was betrayal in their eyes. You didn’t take over the shop, the pride and joy of your parents’ lives, the beating wooden heart of your bloodline. You chose a different kind of future. One not carved by someone else’s hands. Your own hands, for once in your life you made a decision for yourself and you paid for it. And for that, they stopped speaking to you. But this… this feels like a punishment. Like they wanted to wound you with the silence. 

A sob punches through you suddenly, sharp and guttural, like something breaking. You clutch at your chest like you can hold the grief in, but it spills through your fingers anyway, wild and merciless. He’s gone. He’s gone and you didn’t get to say goodbye. Didn’t get to stand by his casket and remember the sound of his laugh, the thunder of his anger, the way his eyes used to flick to the door whenever your grandmother walked into the room. You didn’t get to speak your pain into the air or leave a single flower on the freshly turned earth. You didn’t even get to be a daughter. Just… forgotten. Discarded.

You don’t know how long you cry. The sun shifts, shadows stretch. Somewhere far away, a neighbor plays the radio and someone slams a door. You lie down on the hardwood floor, cheek pressed to the cold wood, your body curled inwards like you’re trying to become small enough to slip into a memory. Your grandmother would’ve wrapped you in a quilt by now. She would’ve brewed you chamomile tea and said, “Let yourself grieve. He was your father, even if he was flawed.” She would’ve let you rage. Would’ve held your hand and said the things no one else dared to say. Like, “It wasn’t your fault you needed to leave.” Or maybe even, “He should’ve told you he loved you before it was too late.” You whisper to the silence around you: “Why didn’t he call me?” 

No answer. Only the echo of your breath and the trembling pulse of your heart, mourning not just him—but the version of you that still hoped he might reach out one day. That little girl who waited, and waited, and waited for him to choose her. Now she knows he never will. You reach for your grandmother’s journal again, fingers slow and reverent. You find a passage you hadn’t noticed before, dated the winter before she passed.

Loss is a winter that never fully thaws, she wrote. But love, my darling, love is what wraps the frost in color. You close your eyes. And for a moment, you can almost feel her hands on your shoulders, warm and certain. 

You don’t remember falling asleep. Only the brittle stillness of morning, cracked open by the weight behind your ribs. You don’t know how he knew. Maybe Wonyoung told him something. Maybe your absence stretched too long, and your silence- your complete vanishing sounded different than usual. Maybe he could just feel it in the marrow of his bones the way animals feel the turn of the weather. But sometime just after noon, there’s a knock at your door. Firm. Measured. Familiar. You don’t move. Not at first. You sit there on the floor, wrapped in a blanket that doesn’t warm you, your hair tangled and your body still sore from the way grief wrings a person out from the inside. The knock comes again. Then his voice- low, steady, laced with something that makes your throat tighten.

“Y/N, open the door.” Sunghoon. Of course it’s him. You stand slowly, like your body no longer belongs to you, like every movement is a question you’re not sure you want answered. You reach the door, place your hand against it, feel the hum of him on the other side like a ghost pressed to your skin. 

“Go away.” You whisper with all the strength you could muster. Which was not much, if any at all. A pause. “I’m not leaving until I know you’re okay.” 

You laugh, sharp and small and broken. “Too late for that.” 

“Then let me in.” His voice is softer this time. It tugs at something inside you, something raw and already unraveling. But you don’t move. You can’t. Because if you see him…if you see those eyes, if he looks at you like you mean something, if he touches you- you’re afraid the dam will break. “Please,” he says. 

You open the door. And the storm begins. He steps in like he always does, like this is still whatever tangled thing you’ve been pretending it is. You hate how relieved he looks just to see you. You hate that his presence does soothe something in you, even now, when everything in your world has come undone. “What’s going on?” he asks, his brow furrowed. “You disappeared.” 

“I’m fine,” you lie. Because it’s the only thing you can do. You can’t burden him with your problems, you can't bear to bother him. “No, you’re not.” He steps closer, and that’s when you snap. 

“Don’t,” you hiss, stepping back like he burned you. “Don’t pretend to care now.” You can feel the resolve of what's left of your life snapping, like the cliff you were holding onto with the tip of your finger was finally crumbling, eventually sending you hurtling to the ground at your demise. And you welcomed it, you didn't brace for the fall. Instead you held your hands out and allowed the wind to hit you face. 

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” He’s defensive, understandably so. 

Your voice rises before you can stop it, rage surging like fire through dry grass. “It means this- whatever this is, it’s not real, right? You don’t get to show up and act like I matter just because you haven’t gotten your fix in a few days.” You spit the words out with malice, ash on your tongue. 

Sunghoon blinks, taken aback. “That’s not fair.” 

“Fair?” You laugh, wild and bitter. “You think any of this is fair?” You’re crying now, tears you can’t stop, salt water spilling like grief is trying to pour out of you any way it can. You want to hurt the way you hurt, you want to destroy anything good in your life. 

“I’ve been walking around pretending I don’t feel anything. Pretending this was just sex. Just tension. Just bad timing. But I do feel something, Sunghoon. I feel everything, and I can’t- I can’t keep pretending.” He opens his mouth, but you cut him off, voice trembling like a bridge about to collapse. And collapse it does. “I love you.” 

Silence. Pure and utter silence. A silence you could go crazy in. A silence so loud you want to cup your hands over your ears and scream. You had never known a love like this. It was fierce and intense. it grabbed a hold of your heart like the constraints of a snake and never let it go. it swallowed your entire being, your entire soul. This love hurt. 

“I don’t,” he says. Two words. Clean. Precise. A scalpel to the chest. You stare at him like you don’t recognize him. Like the person who just spoke isn’t the one who touched you like you were something sacred. Who kissed you like you were air and he’d been drowning. 

“I never meant to lead you on,” he says, not meeting your eyes. “It just… got out of hand. This was a mistake. It was always going to be a mistake.” You want to scream. You want to throw something, tear the sky in half, bury yourself in the quiet dark where no one can find you again. Instead, your voice turns hollow. Cold. Like the ice seeping through your veins and freezing your heart. 

“Get out.” 

“Y/N—”

“Get out.” 

He hesitates. But then he nods. Quiet. Like the coward he suddenly is. And just like that, he leaves. The door closes behind him with a finality that feels like a tomb sealing shut. You don’t collapse this time. You stay standing. But it hurts more. Somehow, it always does.

You wander back into the room like a ghost, like someone newly haunted. You grab your grandmother’s journal again, flipping through the pages with trembling fingers, searching for the red string passage like it might come alive and wrap itself around your hand and drag you back to the truth. But all you see is ink. All you see are lies.

Soulmates are real.You’ll know when you touch them.The universe will show you.

Lies. Because you touched him. And what did the universe show you?

A fool. You saw yourself as a fool, lit up in a soft glow, believing in something that never believed in you. You close the book slowly, your hands gentle this time. Like you’re mourning something more than a love lost. Like you’re mourning magic itself. If the red string exists, it’s tangled around your neck. Tight. Suffocating. Useless. You stare at the ceiling until your vision blurs. Until the world goes quiet again. You don’t know if you’ll ever believe in soulmates. You don’t know if you’ll ever believe in anything at all. 

You don’t quit; though the thought slips across your mind like a blade held lightly between your teeth. Instead, you do what you’ve always done: you fold the pain into neat corners and tuck it behind your ribs. You wear your silence like armor, sharp and impenetrable. You show up to the office with eyes hollowed by sleepless nights and lips pressed into a line so thin it might vanish entirely. And you avoid Sunghoon like he’s the epicenter of the earthquake still rattling your bones. Because he is. 

You stop taking the elevator if you think he’s in it. You pretend to be deep in work when he walks by. You leave meetings the second they end, ducking out before his eyes can find yours. But he notices. Oh, he notices. And like a cruel twist of fate, he doesn’t leave you alone. No, instead he becomes worse. Sharper. Colder. Crueler in the way only someone who once knew your soft parts can be. 

“This is what you call a concept?” he says one morning, tossing your latest mock-up onto the conference table like it burned him to hold it. “Are you even trying?” You flinch. Wonyoung shoots you a look across the table, brows raised in alarm. Jay shifts uncomfortably, eyes flicking between you and your boss like he’s watching a scene unfold he was never meant to witness. “I thought it captured the essence of—” 

“It’s flat,” Sunghoon interrupts. “Lifeless. If this is what you think the cover should look like, then maybe you’re in the wrong department.” The words land with the precision of gunfire. You nod once, slowly. Quietly. Swallowing everything you want to scream. The meeting ends, and you make it all the way back to your desk before the tears spill. Silent, shaking, defiant. You tell yourself to hold it together. But your hands won’t stop trembling, your heart won’t stop pounding. 

Wonyoung finds you in the bathroom twenty minutes later, sitting on the tile with your knees pulled to your chest, mascara smudged like bruises beneath your eyes. “Y/N,” she breathes, crouching down beside you. “What’s going on?” You want to lie. To say it’s the pressure. That 's the deadline. That it’s anything other than what it is. But your heart’s a dam that’s already cracked open, and the truth rushes out in a flood. 

“You were right,” you whisper, your voice small and trembling. “About me and Sunghoon.” She blinks. “You mean…?” 

You nod, staring at the grout lines between the tiles like they might save you. “We’ve been sleeping together. For awhile now” She doesn’t say anything right away. Just sits beside you, quiet, letting the weight of it settle in the space between your words. “And I fell in love with him,” you choke, voice cracking like glass under pressure. “God, I didn’t mean to. I didn’t want to. But I did. I fell in love with someone who sees me as a mistake.” 

Wonyoung’s expression softens with a tenderness that only true friendship can bring. She reaches for your hand, warm fingers wrapping around your cold ones. “I thought I could handle it,” you say. “I thought I could keep it casual. But then I started seeing him in everything. In every future I imagined. And then… he just—” 

“Shut you out,” she finishes softly. You nod. Tears fall again, heavier this time. “He told me he didn’t love me. That it was a mistake. And now he’s punishing me for feeling anything at all.” Wonyoung doesn’t speak for a long moment. She just holds your hand, grounding you. “You didn’t do anything wrong,” she says eventually, voice gentle but fierce. “You loved someone. You trusted him with that. That’s not weakness- that’s bravery.”

You shake your head. “It doesn’t feel brave. It feels pathetic.”

“It’s not,” she insists. “He’s the one who should feel ashamed. Not you.” The silence that follows is soft, heavy. But for the first time in days, it doesn’t feel suffocating. “I don’t think I believe in soulmates anymore,” you whisper, more to yourself than to her. “All that red string stuff my grandmother used to talk about… I thought maybe, just maybe it was real. But it’s not. It can’t be.”  

Wonyoung doesn’t argue. She just rubs slow circles into the back of your hand, her presence a balm on skin still burning. Later, when you wash your face and force yourself back into the office, the world doesn’t look different. Sunghoon is still a shadow at the edge of your vision. The emails still pile up. The coffee still tastes like nothing. But something in you has cracked open and not just in pain. In truth. In the slow, aching beginning of letting go. 

The office is quiet at night, humming only with the low whir of overhead lights and the distant tapping of your keyboard. You’ve buried yourself in work like it’s a lifeline diving into layouts, moodboards, and concept notes with the kind of intensity reserved for those desperate to feel anything but what’s clawing at their chest.

Today is a heavy day. A quietly suffocating one. Five years since your grandmother’s heart stopped beating. One month and change since your father’s did too. You didn’t tell anyone. Not Wonyoung. Not Jay. Certainly not Sunghoon. You just kept your head down and drowned in deadlines. So when the receptionist calls Sunghoon’s line to tell him there’s a flower delivery for you- late-night, unexpected; he frowns. 

“Who the hell is sending flowers to Y/N at this hour?” he mutters. And he goes down to get them himself. His jaw is tight the entire elevator ride, fury swelling like a storm behind his eyes. By the time he’s back on your floor, bouquet in hand, the smell of white lilies and soft garden roses clogs his senses like betrayal. He doesn’t knock. He slams the door open so hard the hinge screams. You jump, startled, spinning around in your chair.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” you gasp. But he doesn’t answer. He throws the flowers onto your desk like they’ve poisoned him. “So that’s it?” he snaps. “You’re already moving on?” 

You stare at him, stunned. “What?” He points to the bouquet like it’s a smoking gun. “I just told you this was a mistake. That we should stop. And not even a week later, you’re already entertaining some new guy? Jesus, Y/N.” 

Your voice sharpens. “They’re from Chaewon.” 

“Who the fuck is Chaewon?” 

“My childhood friend,” you say through clenched teeth. “My best friend since I was five. She sends me flowers every year on this day.” He blinks, momentarily thrown off. You rise to your feet, slowly, deliberately, and something in your expression must shift because he goes still. “Today is the five-year anniversary of my grandmother’s death,” you say quietly. “And the one-month mark since my father died. A death I wasn’t even told about until weeks later.” His lips part slightly, but no sound comes out. 

“I’ve been holding myself together with frayed thread,” you go on, your voice trembling now. “I’ve been pushing through grief so heavy it’s crushed every part of me. And you- you come in here, spewing accusations and calling me names, because your ego can’t handle the idea that I might be wanted by someone else?”

You laugh, bitter and breathless. “I loved you, Sunghoon,” you say. “God help me, I did. I still do. Even after everything. But you humiliated me. You used me and then blamed me for having feelings. And now you have the audacity to show up here and call me a whore for getting flowers from my best friend?” 

You shove the card toward him, your fingers shaking. He reads it. And his face falls. “Y/N,” he says softly. “I didn’t—” 

“No,” you cut him off. “You don’t get to apologize now. You don’t get to regret it just because you misread the situation. You made yourself clear you don’t feel the same. You said it was a mistake. And I believed you.” He stands there, frozen, hands limp at his sides, the tension between you coiled so tightly it might snap the air in two. You stare at him for a long moment. Then your voice drops, quieter, sadder. “My grandmother used to tell me soulmates were real. She believed in fate. In red strings and destined touch. I used to believe her.” 

You pick up the flowers, holding them gently. “But now I think soulmates are a myth we tell ourselves to feel less alone. And I’m done chasing ghosts.” You turn back to your screen, the cursor blinking like a pulse, pretending your soul didn’t just crack in half in front of him. You expect the door to shut. Expect his retreat. But it doesn’t come. Instead, silence stretches behind you. Dense. Breathless. Charged. You feel Sunghoon’s eyes on you, like he doesn't know what to say but he wants, no needs to say something. 

You wished he didn’t. You wished he would walk out that door so you can continue to cry where he can’t see you. Where you can feel ashamed and embarrassed outside of his prying eyes. 

“I’m not leaving.” You freeze. Your breath catches, like the pause before a sob. “I was going to,” Sunghoon says, voice low, rough. “I was halfway out the door, but… I couldn’t do it.” You don’t turn around. Can’t. You’re too full of salt and sorrow and the ghosts of people who should still be breathing. He takes a tentative step closer. And you wince. 

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs. “That was cruel. What I said- what I called you. I didn’t mean it. I just… I panicked.” You laugh under your breath, bitter. “Panicked because someone sent me flowers?” 

“No, well-yes.” He says truthfully. “I don’t know how to handle this,” he continues. “You… you scare the shit out of me, Y/N.” You finally look at him. And what you see on his face is not arrogance. Not ego. It’s a boy standing barefoot in a storm, trying to keep the wind from pulling everything he loves out of his hands.

“I’ve never told anyone this,” he says. “Not even Jay. But my grandfather died three years ago. Right before I got hired”

You blink, caught off guard. “You never mentioned—” 

“We weren’t close. Not for most of my life,” he admits. “But toward the end, when his memory started slipping, he talked about her. This woman he met when he was young. Said she was the love of his life. But he never got the timing right. Always one step too late.”

Something in your chest goes very still.

“The day he died, he gave me this.” He pulls up the sleeve of his coat, pointing to the red bracelet, completely identical to your missing one. “He said it belonged to her. The woman he never stopped loving.” 

You reach out without thinking, your fingers brushing against the red string. “My grandmother,” you whisper, heart pounding like thunder behind your ribs. “She had a story too. She used to tell me about this boy she loved in her youth. They lost each other. She never told me his name. Just that he left, and she never stopped waiting.” Sunghoon’s breath catches. “What was her name?” 

“Eunju.” His eyes close. “That’s her,” he says. “That’s the name.” 

The room shifts. Time folds inward. And suddenly, you’re not two people standing in an office under flickering fluorescent light. You’re the echo of two others who once stood on the edge of a different beginning. Souls that never found their way back- until now.  “I don’t even know what this means,” you whisper. “But it feels like something bigger than us.”

“It does,” he says, voice barely more than breath. “And it scares the hell out of me.” Your eyes sting. “Then why did you push me away?” you ask. “Why did you say it was a mistake?” His gaze drops, heavy with guilt. 

“Because I’ve never had something I didn’t know how to ruin. And you… you’re not something I could just forget after. You were never just sex, Y/N. You were the first thing that made me feel human in a long time. And I didn’t know what to do with that.” You’re quiet for a long moment.

“Say it,” you whisper. “Say how you feel. Stop hiding behind fear.” You’ve had enough of the hiding of the fear. You needed to hear him say it out loud. You weren’t asking him to shout to the rooftops or brag about to everyone he knows but you needed that confirmation, or it wouldn’t feel real. Whatever you two learned about each other wouldn't feel real until he said the one thing you needed to hear from him. “I have feelings for you,” he says, the words breaking from him like waves on rocks. “Too many. And I don’t know how to carry them without dropping them at your feet and praying you don’t run.” 

Your throat closes up. Emotion wells like a tide, like a wound too long ignored. “You think I haven’t been carrying them too?” you say, stepping closer. “You think I haven’t been trying to rip you out of my heart every time you looked at me like I was just something easy to forget?” 

He flinches. “I never looked at you like that.” 

“Then why did you pretend this meant nothing?”

“Because I’m not good at this. Because I didn’t want to break you.”

“You did anyway.” The silence that follows is heavy, but not empty. It hums with unfinished truths and fragile hope. “I’m sorry,” he says again. “For every time I let my fear speak louder than my heart.” As you look at the bracelet on his wrist and feel your grandmother’s love lingering like smoke around your shoulders, you can’t help but wonder if some love stories are meant to be rewritten. Not with new words- but with new hands. Hands that aren’t afraid anymore. Hands that are willing to try. 

You decide to try.

It isn’t some cinematic confession, no fireworks or strings or sweeping score. It’s quieter than that. It lives in the way he brushes your hair back from your face like you’re something fragile he’s learning how to hold. It lives in the way you don’t flinch this time when his arms wrap around you like an anchor. Neither of you says this is love - not yet. But you say: I want to try. And that is more than enough. The night unspools between you slow and warm, like honey melting down the edge of a glass. Sunghoon kisses you like he’s never tasted something real before. His touch is different now - not just hungry, but reverent, as if every inch of you holds secrets he’s finally ready to hear. He takes you to his apartment, carefully peeling away at you, layer by layer and you let him. You revel in the feeling. 

You fall into each other like waves crashing in a quiet tide. His hands roam your skin like they’re mapping a route back home. He whispers your name into your mouth like a promise, like an apology, like an offering. And when it’s over, when you’re tangled in each other’s limbs, skin still glowing from the heat of it all, he doesn't move away. Instead, he lifts you gently, carries you to the bathroom with soft steps and softer eyes. The bath is already running, steam curling up toward the ceiling like incense smoke. He lowers you into the water first, then slips in behind you, his arms coiled around your waist, his chest a steady drumbeat against your back. 

for a while, you just sit in silence, water lapping around you, time slowing to a heartbeat. Then it hits. Not like the others-  not a flicker, not a shimmer behind your eyes. This time, it’s a storm. You’re no longer in the bathtub. The warm water is gone. Sunghoon’s arms are gone. You're being wheeled through sterile hallways bathed in fluorescent white. The lights above you strobe like lightning, blinding and sharp. Your chest is tight, your vision blurry. You hear voices; clipped, urgent. “She’s crashing—get the crash cart—”

“BP dropping—move—” Hushed but urgent ringing in your ears. 

“Miss? Can you hear me?” Your body feels too heavy, your limbs suspended between planes. You're trying to speak. Your lips move but your voice is paper-thin. “Where’s… Sunghoon?” you murmur. “Please… tell him I—” And then; Darkness. Complete darkness. The memory rips away as fast as it came, and suddenly you're back in the bath, water sloshing against the sides. Your breath is caught in your throat, your heart galloping like it’s trying to outrun something it hasn’t even seen yet.

Sunghoon notices instantly. “Hey—” he sits up straighter behind you, arms tightening. “You okay?” You nod, too fast. “Yeah. Yeah, I just… got dizzy for a second.” He doesn’t push. Just smooths his hands along your arms, grounding you. But inside, your mind is spinning. That wasn’t just a flashback. It didn’t feel like a dream. It felt like something you hadn’t lived yet. Like a prelude to pain. A warning sealed inside your bones. It felt so real and raw, the pain you felt lying on that bed was real, until it wasn’t. 

And it came now, when you were warm, when you were loved, when your body was finally held like a prayer and not a battlefield. The world shifts under your skin. But you swallow it down. For now, you lean back into him, trying to chase comfort, to drown out the tremble in your spine. His lips press to your shoulder, slow and unknowing. You don’t tell him what you saw. Not yet. Because the moment is still soft. The red thread is still stitching you both closer. And whatever that flash was… it can wait. The heart, after all, can only carry so much weight at once. And tonight all you wanted to be was in love. 

Something shifts after that night; gently, like the seasons turning without permission. Not a dramatic tilt, not a bolt of lightning, just a hush in the way the world begins to hold its breath when the two of you are in the same room. You and Sunghoon begin working on the project again. A visual campaign wrapped in pastel chaos and sharp, defiant edges. But this time, it’s different. The air between you hums with something alive, something unspoken, something tender. You sit beside him at the long conference table, your laptops open, coffee cups sweating, and you find yourself stealing glances when you think he won’t notice. Except… he always does. And he smiles. That smile you were beginning to love more and more everyday. 

Those soft, rare smiles that melt in the corners of his mouth like sugar. He doesn’t say much in the meetings, still the same gruff, perfectionist Sunghoon who eyes fonts like they’ve insulted him personally but now, there’s a warmth beneath it all. A hand that finds yours under the table. A look that lingers just a beat too long when you laugh. “You two,” Wonyoung says one afternoon, flicking her pen dramatically in your direction, “are not as subtle as you think.” 

You freeze. So does Sunghoon. Jay, across the room, just snorts and mutters, “Took them long enough.” But that’s it. That’s all they say. There’s no big reveal, no confrontation, just a collective decision to let it be. To let this new, fragile thing you’re growing unfold on its own.

And unfold it does. There’s a rhythm now. A cadence. Mornings that begin with Sunghoon brushing his knuckles across your cheek while you’re still half-asleep, his tie hanging loose, the scent of cinnamon toast curling in from the kitchen. Lunchtimes filled with casual touches, a hand grazing your back, fingers brushing yours as he passes you a folder. Evenings spent buried in mood boards and color palettes and sketches, your bodies leaning closer and closer until work becomes the excuse to stay near. And even longer evenings spent between the sheets wrapped up in one another. 

You catch him drawing you once. Not on purpose. It’s a rough doodle on the side of his notes, half-shadowed in graphite, your profile rendered in a way that makes your breath catch. “Is that me?” you ask, teasing. 

He doesn’t deny it. Just shrugs, eyes still on his screen. “It’s habit now.” There’s a softness to it all. A lullaby woven into the mundane. The kind of romance that grows in the quiet in the brushing of hands as you reach for the same pen, in the way he starts memorizing your coffee order without ever asking, in the long stares across the office when he thinks no one’s looking. But you’re always looking. And falling. Falling deeper every day. 

One night, you stay late, the others long gone and it’s just you and Sunghoon at the office, the windows reflecting the golden haze of the city outside. You’re both reviewing final edits, shoulders brushing every so often. He’s mid-sentence, talking about lighting contrast, when he glances over and stops. “What?” you ask, heart fluttering. He stares for a moment longer, then says, almost reverent, “You’re beautiful.” The words are simple. But the way he says them- like they’re sacred, like they’re truth — makes you feel like the whole world paused to let them echo.

You kiss him. There, in the fading light, paper scattered like fallen petals around you, hearts pressed too close to pretend you’re still pretending. And maybe it’s too soon. Maybe it’s foolish. But you can’t help it. With Sunghoon, love doesn’t feel like falling. You weren’t afraid to keep falling in love. 

Soon, you were doing things outside of work and his or your apartment. Soon you were going on dates and even double dates with Wonyoung and Jay. You forgot all about the red bracelet you were still missing and the fact that the father who didn't really care for you was dead, you forgot that the project was most likely going to fail and there was nothing you could do about it. All you knew was that even if it did, you would have Sunghoon in your corner as your support, defending you and himself as he should. 

It was a Saturday night and Wonyoung and Jay wanted to go out. Bowling, you couldn’t pass it up. The bowling alley glows in soft retro neon, half bathed in violet and seafoam, the kind of lighting that feels a little bit like a dream. The air hums with pop music and the sound of pins clattering against waxed wood, laughter curling from every direction like it’s something you can breathe in. You’re leaning against the plastic bench seating in lane thirteen, watching Wonyoung do a celebratory spin after knocking down seven pins. Her oversized sweatshirt flutters like a cape behind her, and Jay’s clapping like she just won a gold medal. 

"Did you see that curve?" she gasps, strutting back like she’s on a runway. “I think I was a bowling prodigy in another life.” 

“You didn’t get a strike,” Jay deadpans, but the smile tugging at his lips betrays him. He kisses her cheek anyway. You’re laughing when Sunghoon comes back from the snack counter with a tray balanced in one hand;  two sodas, a tub of buttery popcorn, and a red-and-white-striped basket of chili cheese fries that smells dangerously good. “Is this a date or an artery-clogging death wish?” you tease, taking a fry and popping it into your mouth. 

He shrugs, setting the tray down beside you. “Both.” You roll your eyes but your heart flutters anyway, that strange, silly way it always does around him now. Soft and full and entirely too much. 

“Alright, your turn, lovebirds,” Wonyoung sing-songs, tossing you a ball with sparkly green nail polish. “Let’s see who’s the real athlete here.” Sunghoon stands, cracking his neck with exaggerated drama. “Prepare to be humbled.” 

You snort. “Please. You design magazine covers for a living.”  

“And I still have better hand-eye coordination than Jay.” 

“Hey!” Jay protests from his seat, a fry halfway to his mouth. “Unnecessary.” Sunghoon picks up his bowling ball- matte black, naturally, because of course he’d pick the most intimidating one, and lines up his shot. You lean over to Wonyoung as he takes his stance. “Ten bucks says he slips.” 

“No bet,” she whispers. “He’s definitely slipping.” He doesn’t. The ball sails down the lane like it was born to. Not quite a strike, but a noble nine. Still, he spins around with that smug little smirk that makes you want to punch and kiss him at the same time. 

“I’m waiting,” he says, arms out.

“For what?”

“My praise.” You cock an eyebrow, grabbing your own ball, a bright lilac with sparkles, completely your vibe. “You’ll get it when you earn it.” 

“Oh, it’s like that?” He teased. You give him a grin over your shoulder as you walk to the lane. “It’s always like that.” Your throw goes a little off. You get five pins and one tragically rogue ball but you raise your arms like you just conquered Everest anyway. Jay and Wonyoung cheer you on, loud and dramatic, and you blow a kiss in their direction before sliding back into the booth beside Sunghoon. He passes you a soda, his fingers brushing yours, and leans in close enough that your shoulders touch. “You’re terrible at this.” 

“And yet, I still look amazing doing it.” He smirks, his voice low. “That’s true.” You nudge his shoulder with yours. “You’re flirting.”

“You make it easy.”

The game winds on like that, playful insults and bad technique, shared bites of fries, the occasional high-five that turns into hand-holding when no one’s looking. Wonyoung sings along too loudly to every song that comes on. Jay takes the bowling way too seriously and actually tries to calculate his win percentage. Sunghoon teases everyone and somehow still ends up doing the scoreboard. But more than that- it’s easy. It’s fun. The kind of fun that fills your chest like helium and makes your laugh louder, your smile wider. The kind of fun that doesn’t ask for anything in return. There’s a moment, near the end of the night, when you catch Sunghoon looking at you, really looking. His head tilted, mouth soft, eyes full of something that makes your whole soul ache.

He doesn’t say anything. Just reaches over and tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, like it’s the most natural thing in the world. And maybe now… it is. You lean into his side, just a little, and let the night wrap around you like a warm, flickering blanket. Neon lights, greasy food, too-loud laughter. All of it stitched with something golden and glowing. It isn’t perfect. But it’s yours. And right now, that’s more than enough. 

The ice rink is quieter than you expected, nestled between city buildings like a secret. The lights above the ice are dim and golden, soft like early morning sun through lace curtains. There are just a few people gliding across the surface, laughter echoing like bells in the cold air, the kind of sound that makes your chest ache in the best way. You tug your scarf tighter, breath fogging the air in front of you. “You’re really serious about this?” you ask, eyeing the ice with no small amount of suspicion. 

Sunghoon just grins, crouched down to lace up his skates like it’s the most natural thing in the world. “Dead serious.” 

“I’ve never done this before,” you warn. “I know,” he says, standing up with a grace that makes your stomach flip. He’s already taller than you, but on skates he looks like something carved out of winter. Long lines and quiet confidence, something familiar and dazzling all at once. You wobble when you stand, arms flailing until he catches you. His hands find your waist, steady and warm, and you glare at him, breathless. 

“This was your plan all along,” you mutter. “To watch me fall on my ass.” He leans in close, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Maybe. But I’ll catch you every time.” Your heart doesn’t know how to handle that, so you look away. The first few minutes are exactly as humiliating as you expected. You cling to the railing like it’s a lifeline, feet sliding in every direction. Sunghoon skates backward in front of you with ridiculous ease, hands out like he’s luring a stray cat. 

“Come on,” he says, voice gentle. “Just one step.”

“I am stepping! I’m also dying.”

“You’re not dying.”

“I could be.” He laughs, the kind of laugh that hits you in the ribs, bright and full of something that feels like home. He skates up beside you, takes your hand in his without asking. “I’ve got you,” he says. “Always.” Somehow, you believe him. With him guiding you, it gets easier. Your legs stop shaking so much. Your fingers don’t cling as tightly. He teaches you how to glide, how to bend your knees, how to fall safely, which you do, spectacularly, three times in a row. But he never lets go. Not once. 

And when you’re finally coasting across the rink on your own - a little wobbly, a little wild, but free, he cheers for you like you’ve just won gold. You laugh until your cheeks hurt. “Okay,” you say, breathless. “How are you this good at skating?” 

He shrugs, suddenly shy. “I used to want to be a figure skater when I was a kid.”

Your eyes widen. “Seriously?” 

“Yeah. I’d watch competitions on TV and try to copy the spins in my kitchen.” He glances down at the ice, a soft smile tugging at his lips. “It felt like flying.” You skate closer to him, heart aching at the softness in his voice. “Why didn’t you keep doing it?” 

He looks up, and there’s something a little broken in his smile. “My parents didn’t think it was practical. I let it go.” You reach for his hand. “I’m sorry.” 

He shakes his head. “I’m not. Not anymore. I still skate sometimes, on nights when I can’t sleep. It reminds me of who I was before the world got too loud.” The air between you shimmers, cold but not empty. Full of things unspoken, things that have been building since the moment you met him. It’s in the way he looks at you now, eyes wide and vulnerable, like he’s waiting for something he’s not sure he deserves. And maybe… maybe you’re ready to give it. 

You skate backward a little, still holding his hand. “Sunghoon?”

“Yeah?”

“I love you.” It’s a whisper, but it echoes louder than anything else. The kind of truth that makes the world slow down. His eyes go wide. He stops moving. 

“I didn’t mean to,” you say quickly, breath shaking. “I didn’t plan it. But somewhere between fighting with you and falling on my face, I—” Your voice catches. “I just did. And I know we said we’d take it slow, but I'm ready, this is it for me, You are.” For a moment, the only sound is the scrape of skates on ice and your heart beating like it’s trying to break out of your chest. Then he steps toward you.

“Say it again,” he whispers. Your throat tightens. “I love you.” And then he’s kissing you, right there on the ice, hands on your face, lips cold and sweet and desperate. The kiss is slow but trembling, like the both of you are trying not to fall apart, trying to hold onto the feeling as long as you can. When he pulls back, his voice is rough and full of awe.

“I love you too.” Your breath catches. “I didn’t want to,” he admits. “I was so scared to let this become real. But it did. And I’m not going to pretend it didn’t.” 

You smile, eyes stinging. “So what does this mean?” He presses his forehead to yours. “It means we’re official. As of right now.” 

Your laughter turns into a sob halfway through, and he kisses it away, holding you in the middle of the ice like the world has narrowed down to just this. Just you and him and this quiet, golden moment where everything feels right. When the lights begin to dim for closing time, he skates you one last circle around the rink, holding your hand the whole time. And in that frozen orbit, beneath stars too distant to touch, you fall in love all over again.

That night Sunghoon takes his time with you, soaking in the smell and feel of your skin against his. It’s not hard and rough like you’re used to, it’s soft like the pillowy feeling of being on cloud nine. It was tender and it made you alight with pure happiness. You had not known happiness like this for such a long time. You were beginning to feel like he was sent to you. That your grandmother knew you needed someone to fill her void. 

And Sunghoon didn't just fill that void, he lit it ablaze, lighting a candle inside of you and setting your heart on fire with need for him. Not just sexually but spiritually. 

Sunghoon whispered soft and quiet i love you’s against your skin as you sat atop him, connected as one. He held your hand as he slowly pushed into you over and over again. He drank in your moans while simultaneously spilling his own. This was love, and it did not hurt this time. It felt good. You were high on this love, addicted to the rush, and you never wanted to let that go. 

“Does that feel good, baby?” He breathed against your ear, his breath harsh. “Tell me how good it feels.” 

“So-good.” You whined, legs to your chest as Sunghoon took his time with you, reaching unbelievable places inside of you. “Don’t stop-” Tears welled in your eyes threatening to spill over. “Please don’t-” 

“Never.” He cooed. Sunghoon sank his face down to yours, kissing at the apples of your cheeks and whisking away the tears falling from your eyes. “I’ll never stop loving you.” Your sob rang through the room, along with the sound of his skin hitting yours. But it was not a sob of sadness, you did not cry of despair. The emotions coursing through you were simply too heavy, too much. It catapulted you to your already awaiting orgasm. It ripped through you like a storm, creating chaos in your mind. You welcomed it. 

Sunghoon followed suit. His head tipped back, eyes screwed shut and lips slightly agape. He was the most beautiful person you had ever seen. Even more so than the day you first met him, staring up at him with wide eyes on that dirty sidewalk. This was it, he was it. 

The next few weeks continued to pass by in a blur. Days in the office no longer felt long. You, Sunghoon, Wonyoung and Jay became a proper team creating the most perfect cover that Suyu could not even hate if she tried. It was the perfect mesh of everything her and her other members claimed to want. You don’t know if you were saying this out of bias or not but it looked pretty damn perfect to you. 

“Knowing Suyu, she’ll find something to hate about it.” Wonyoung says with the roll of her eyes, two afternoons before the big presentation is supposed to happen. “That girl is never happy.” 

“She’ll only be happy if Sunghoon agrees to go on a date with.” Jay snorts from his end of the table in the very big conference room the four of you occupied. You’ve decided to ditch the cubicles and work in conference rooms together for my cohesion. It seemed it was working in your favor. 

“Not happening.” Sunghoon said, typing away, not even looking up. You snort a little laugh, shaking your head. “Over my dead body.” 

“Rawr, Y/N” Wonyoung snickered. “Didn’t know you were so possessive.” Your cheeks heat in slight embarrassment looking down at your paper to hide away from their prying eyes. 

“It’s hot.” Sunghoon mused, your head shot up, shocked at his open candor. Although Jay and Wonyoung were very much aware of your relationship, Sunghoon tended to keep the PDA away from the office. Sunghoon sent a knowing smirk your way. A way to tell you he knew exactly what he was doing to you, and he liked it. 

“I didn’t know you were such a romantic Park Sunghoon.” You flirted back sending him a small smile that you knew would drive him absolutely mad. 

“for you i’d be anything baby.” Wonyoung’s grunt of disgust broke the flirting fest the two of you were having. 

“Spare us all.” She complained, but still there was a small smirk on her face. One that said she really wasn’t all that bothered by the two of you. She loved it. 

You laugh, light and airy like you felt in that moment. “Like you and Jay aren’t always on top of eachother all the time.” 

“We do n-” 

“Yes, we do.” Jay interrupts before she could utter another word. “I don’t mind, they’re in love. Let them flirt, Won.”  

“Yeah..” Sunghoon trails. His eyes on yours “We are.”  

The morning of the presentation rises with a golden hush, sunlight sifting through your curtains like powdered gold. It spills over the sheets, over his bare back, tracing the ridges of muscle and the delicate rise and fall of his breath. The room smells like skin and sleep, like warmth you’ve grown used to waking beside. Sunghoon stirs, eyes fluttering open, and he finds you already looking at him. His lips curl into a sleepy smile. “You watching me again?”

“Always,” you whisper, your voice still threaded with dreams. He reaches out and pulls you into him, your legs tangling effortlessly. There’s a peacefulness to it, a kind of calm you didn’t think you’d ever get to have. You don’t speak for a while. Just lie there, breathing together in sync, the calm before the storm. The presentation is in a few hours, the culmination of months of ideas and revisions, of whispered meetings and sparks behind locked office doors. But none of that matters right now not when he kisses your shoulder like he’s promising you forever in silence.

The world tilts.

Your breath catches. Your eyes glaze. And the room falls away in one cruel sweep. In its place is sterile white. Bright, blinding. The kind of light that doesn’t bring warmth, only fear. You’re standing in a hospital corridor, the walls humming with fluorescent dread. Nurses rush past you, voices sharp and clipped. And then you see him. Sunghoon. But not the Sunghoon you know. Not the one who smiles like sin and kisses like salvation. He’s lying on a hospital bed, still as stone, wires snaking from his chest, from his arms, from his scalp. Machines beep in jagged rhythms, cruel little lullabies counting down to something inevitable. 

He looks pale. Hollow.

Dead.

A doctor turns to the others. “We’re losing him. There’s not much time—”

“No,” you breathe. “No, no—” You stumble forward in the vision, chest aching with a pain too big for your ribs. You’re screaming his name but no one hears you. It’s like you’re not even there. You reach for him, desperate to hold his hand, to shake him awake, to do something. But then like a gunshot to the head- darkness. 

You’re yanked back into the present like a diver breaking the surface after too long underwater. Your lungs seize. Your body jolts. You sit upright in bed, heart galloping against your ribs like it’s trying to escape. “Y/n?” Sunghoon is already up, panic etched into every line of his face. “Hey—what happened?” You blink at him, throat raw. Your hands are shaking. Your mouth opens, then closes. What was that? 

You clutch the sheet around you, the image of him lying on that bed seared into your memory like a brand. You can still hear the flatline in your ears. “Talk to me,” he pleads, scooting closer, brushing the hair from your damp forehead. “You’re scaring me.” But you can’t find the words. You don’t even know what this means. All you know is that it felt too real. Too visceral. Like a ghost of a future that hasn’t yet happened. And you’d never felt fear like that. Not even when you lost your grandmother. Not even when your father died without goodbye. Because this was Sunghoon. And he was gone in your arms. “I’m okay,” you lie, voice shredded. “I just—bad dream.” 

He pulls you into his chest, wraps his arms around you like a shield. “It’s over now,” he murmurs. “I’m right here.” And you let yourself believe him. Just for a second. But the image won’t leave you. Not even when you get dressed. Not even when you walk into the boardroom hours later, hand in hand, presenting your final vision to an audience of executives and strangers. Not even when you see the pride in his eyes as he watches you speak, like you’ve somehow always belonged to this exact moment. Because beneath the suit, beneath the smile, beneath everything he is, there’s still that hospital bed, cold and waiting. And you? 

You’re terrified that someday, somehow, it won’t be a dream. You shallow your breath, allowing yourself to fall back into the resolve the Sunghoon was giving you. “I’m sorry.” You say. 

“Don't be sorry, baby.” Sunghoon plants a small kiss to the side of your head. “Do you want to talk about it?” But you shake your head no. This was the morning of a very important presentation. You can’t allow something like a vision..or a dream? To break your balance. 

Sunghoon decides on taking a shower together and you can honestly say it was the best idea he's had all morning. Letting the warmth of the shower water fall over you like a security blanket did good for your quaking anxiety. The two of you savored your time together before it was time for what was no doubt going to be a stressful presentation. 

The conference room gleams with sterile promise,  all white walls, steel accents, and the flicker of rain pressing hard against the windows like it’s trying to get in, trying to drown the whole day in gray. The storm has soaked the city in gloom, made the roads reflective, the sky a bruise. It’s the kind of weather that clings to your clothes, your hair, your spirit. Still, you sit tall. You're perched at the long, lacquered table beside Sunghoon, Wonyoung and Jay across from you. The CEO sits at the head, aloof and unreadable, surrounded by a few of Suyu’s management staff. The mood is already tense, the kind of tight that makes every throat clear feel like a bullet ricochet. You're clutching the presentation clicker like a lifeline. 

And then she arrives. Suyu steps into the room like she owns every inch of it, her heels tapping with the arrogance of someone used to the world bowing before her. She’s wrapped in designer spite — sunglasses still on despite the indoor lighting, lips already pursed in disdain. Her team trails behind her like shadows, but she commands the storm all on her own. “Sorry I’m late,” she says without sounding remotely sorry. She doesn’t offer a reason. Doesn’t need to. She knows no one here would dare call her out. Her gaze flickers across the room, then lands on you. And stays there.

A slow, venomous smile curves her mouth. You know that look. You’ve seen it on girls in high school, in boardrooms, in battlefields dressed as brunch tables, the kind that hides a knife behind lip gloss. But you refuse to flinch. You return the smile, polite, professional. Determined. Even if your stomach is already turning. Even if you know something isn’t right. Because before the meeting, as you and Sunghoon stood tucked in a corner hallway, nerves vibrating between you, he kissed you. Not a small, fleeting thing but a real kiss. A grounding, you-got-this kind of kiss. You thought you were alone. You weren’t. Suyu had seen it. 

You caught the flicker of her figure at the edge of your vision as you pulled away, the flash of her hair like a flag of warning disappearing around the corner. But she didn’t say anything then. She’s saying it now, in the set of her mouth. In the storm behind her eyes. “Let’s get this over with,” she drawls, sliding into her seat. 

You rise. Your voice is steady. You begin to speak. You talk about the concept, the vision, the artistry, the story you built with your bare hands. The cover design, sleek and dreamlike, a blend of sharp femininity and rebellious edge. You talk about the themes you studied from her past work, the ways you’ve tried to elevate her image without losing what made her iconic. You worked your soul into this. 

Halfway through your explanation, Suyu starts to scoff. Loudly. You ignore it. Keep going. Then she interrupts. “I’m sorry, are we seriously pretending this is good?” The room stills. Your mouth goes dry. “I mean, really?” she sneers, crossing her arms. “This looks like something a design intern from a knockoff fashion school would make after drinking two energy drinks and crying over her ex.” Your hands grip the edge of the table. Wonyoung’s eyes flash in defense, but she stays silent. Jay’s jaw tightens. Sunghoon doesn’t move.

“I wanted fierce. I wanted iconic,” Suyu continues. “Not this sad, watered-down Tumblr board with delusions of grandeur.” You swallow. “I can explain the—” 

“Oh, please don’t. You’ve explained enough. I don’t need to be walked through mediocrity.” A flicker of laughter comes from someone on her team. And it hurts. But not as much as when the CEO leans forward and says, “She’s not entirely wrong. This doesn’t feel aligned with Suyu’s brand.” Your breath catches. Your fingers shake around the clicker. You turn to Sunghoon, desperate for something. A word. A hand. A glance. Something to say you’re not alone. He sighs. The hurt had only started to seep into your bones when sunghoon nodded, a simple nod of agreement was what tore your heart in half. Yanking it from your body and smashing it to pieces on the floor in front of you. “I told you we should’ve gone with the second mock-up,” he says. “This one doesn’t hit the mark.” 

It’s not just the words. It’s the casualness of them. Like you’re not standing there bleeding. Your heart tears clean in two. You stare at him. Unblinking. Unmoving. The man who once said he loved you while holding your hand in the snow now sits there like you’re just another person in the room. A stranger he happens to know. Suyu’s smile curls. “Maybe you should stick to something you’re actually good at,” she says sweetly, eyes flicking between you and Sunghoon. “Like kissing your boss in public hallways. That seemed more in your lane.” And there it is. The dagger, ​​Slammed into your chest and twisted with precision. 

Wonyoung rises to her feet. “That’s enough.” But it’s not. It’s far from enough. You don’t cry. You don’t scream. You gather your notes. You click the laptop shut. And then you speak. “Thank you for the feedback,” you say. “I’ll revise the design.” Your voice is steady. Your hands are not. The storm outside begins to weep harder against the glass, like the sky is mourning with you. You turn without another word, walking out with the sound of your name left echoing in Sunghoon’s throat — unheard, too late. And somewhere in the distance, a red string frays.

You were humiliated, destroyed, disgusted. How dare he. How fucking dare he. You had all agreed on the design, all. You had all worked tirelessly on the cover for months now. It was not just you. Sunghoon had warned you that you were their scapegoat but to not even defend you when you were being torn in half? Not even an ounce of accountability. How fucking dare he. You were livid, you couldn’t even see straight as your eyes blurred with tears threatening to spill.

You don’t remember running. You only remember the sound your heels make against the marble floors- sharp, frantic, echoing behind you like a second heartbeat. Like guilt chasing your ankles. Like shame trying to wrap its claws around your throat. The doors burst open, and the cold hits you like a slap. The sky is sobbing. Fat, angry raindrops fall in sheets, soaking through your blouse, your skin, your bones. It’s as if the universe itself has decided to mourn your dignity.

You don't have an umbrella. You don’t care. You just run. Your breaths come out in ragged, uneven stutters. You can’t stop seeing their faces. Suyu’s cruel smirk, the board’s blank indifference, and worst of all- his. Sunghoon. Sitting there. Saying nothing. Letting it happen. His silence was louder than any insult they could have thrown. A betrayal more cutting than any blade.“I told you we should’ve gone with the second mock-up.” 

He might as well have said, I don’t believe in you. I never did.

The words keep replaying, rewinding, looping until they stitch themselves into the lining of your chest. You make it to the sidewalk, the rain pounding harder, your tears indistinguishable from the storm. Your fingers tremble as you wrap your arms around yourself, like maybe you can hold the pieces of your heart in place before they fall entirely apart. But then- A hand on your wrist. Firm. Familiar. “Y/N—please,” Sunghoon’s voice cracks through the rain, desperate, raw. “Just wait—listen to me.” 

You spin around, water dripping down your cheeks, your hair plastered to your face. “Why? So you can say I told you so again? So you can throw me under the bus a second time? Was watching them humiliate me not enough for you?!” His mouth opens. Closes. He looks like he’s been punched. “I didn’t mean—”

“Don’t lie to me,” you whisper, voice trembling. “Not now. Not after everything.” You try to pull away but he doesn’t let go. And that’s when it happens. The world vanishes. Time fractures. You’re no longer in the rain. You’re back there.

Bright lights. White walls. The cold sterility of a hospital room seeping into your bones. You’re on your knees. Screaming. Doctors surround a still body on a bed. Tubes. Wires. The sound of machines flatlining. Your voice is raw with anguish. You’re clawing at someone—anyone—begging, pleading.

“Please—no—don’t—_bring him back, please—_he can’t be gone—he can’t be—” And then the words you will never forget: “Time of death—7:46 PM.” You hear them like a bell tolling inside your ribcage, like a countdown to the end of the world. You watch Sunghoon’s chest stilled beneath the sheet. You see your own face; twisted with disbelief, with agony, with a kind of grief that doesn’t come from this world. 

Your voice breaks through the flashback, one last scream: “SUNGHOON—!” And then you’re back—but barely. The rain is still falling, and his hand is still wrapped around your wrist. You look down at it like it’s the thing that killed you. And with a sharp, guttural sob, you yank it away. Like his hand was on fire and you were burning, burning from the rage and the humiliation and from your breaking point. A breaking point that was bound to come. 

You were a ticking time bomb of emotions, you missed your grandmother, you missed the comfort of your red bracelet, funny enough you missed your parents and the father you never got the chance to say goodbye to, that too stolen from you. 

You miss the childhood you never had, one filled with love and reassurance. One where you didnt feel like a burden but like a gift. You hated that this was your life, that you were always second best even in the most mundane of places. 

“Don’t touch me!” you cry, voice shattering. “Don’t ever touch me again!” He stares at you, completely soaked, completely stunned. “Y/N—what—what just happened—” But you’re already stumbling backward. Away. From him. From the pain. From whatever this is turning into. 

You bolt into the street, blind with heartbreak, with fury, with something you don’t even have a name for. And behind you; his voice. Desperate. Terrified. “Y/N—watch out—!” You turn too late. A flash of headlights. A screech. Then-  Nothing.Just blackness, folding you in like a final breath. And the rain keeps falling, like the sky is crying for both of you.

The first thing you feel is the weight. Heavy, like you’ve been asleep for centuries. Your body is lead, your limbs sunken deep into stiff hospital sheets that smell like bleach and absence. Your mouth is dry. Your head aches. Your skin is sore, like the bruises haven’t bloomed yet but are waiting, just beneath the surface. The beeping of a heart monitor slices through the fog. You open your eyes.

The ceiling is too white. The light overhead buzzes with the subtle hum of sterility. You turn your head, slowly like moving through water and see the pale curtain that separates your bed from the rest of the world. It stirs slightly from the hum of an unseen vent, like a ghost brushing its fingers against your reality. You glance down at your wrist. Your breath catches in your throat. There it is. The red string. 

Thin, delicate, impossibly bright in the sterile light. Wound gently around your wrist like it never left. Like it belonged there all along. You sit up too quickly, dizziness punches the edge of your vision, but you push through it, heart hammering in your chest like a trapped thing. You look out the window. Grey clouds churn like smoke against the sky. Rain clings to the glass in streaks, as if the world has been weeping without you. You press the call button. A nurse rushes in, kind eyes and a clipboard clutched to her chest. “You’re awake,” she breathes, a smile blooming like dawn. “Thank God. You’ve been out a while.”

“You were in an accident. You’re going to be okay.” You blink. A car. That’s right. The street. The rain. Sunghoon. “What day is it?” you ask, and your voice trembles because something in your chest is already breaking. The nurse glances at the chart. “April third.” The words punch the breath from your lungs. “…What year?” you manage. “2024.”

You swallow, heart thundering like it’s trying to run from your chest. “That’s not possible.”

But she only smiles gently, like she thinks you’re confused. Like she’s seen this before. “Don’t worry, honey. Just rest. You’ll feel more like yourself tomorrow.” But you’re not even sure who you are. Because this is before. This is before everything. Before the journals. Before the office. Before Sunghoon. It’s the day of the accident. The first time. You stare down at the red thread on your wrist like it holds the answer to the unraveling of time itself. You twist it gently between your fingers, like maybe if you touch it long enough, you’ll remember how to breathe.

You don’t know what kind of trick the universe is playing. You don’t know why it’s giving you another beginning. But your heart already knows one thing for sure. Somehow, somewhere; Sunghoon exists. He has to. Your chest heaves with the weight of it, lungs tight with questions that have no place in this timeline. That hospital light is still buzzing above, casting everything in a strange half-glow, like you're caught in the moment between lightning and thunder waiting for something to strike. The red string clings to your wrist like it never left. Like it knew.

“Was there… was there a man?” you ask suddenly, voice raw, broken from something older than your waking. The nurse looks up from the monitor she’s checking. “A man?” 

“Was he hit, too?” You sit straighter in the bed despite the protest of your bruised ribs, your fingers clutching the blanket like it's the only thing keeping you tethered. “Outside. In the rain. I— I remember him.” The nurse hesitates, then softens. “Yes… there was someone else. A young man. He pushed you out of the way before the car hit.” 

Your mouth falls open, lips parting like they’re trying to catch a breath that won’t come. “What—what does he look like?” She sighs gently, like she’s already replayed this conversation in her mind. “Tall. Dark hair. Pale skin. He had a bracelet, I think. Something red around his wrist.” You nearly choke on your breath. “Park Sunghoon?” The name escapes your lips like a prayer and a curse all at once. 

The nurse freezes. Then she nods. You can't speak. He’s here. He was real. Not just a dream, not just a creation of grief and longing- he’s real. And he saved you before he even knew your name. “Can I see him?” you whisper, barely audible. “Please. I need to see him.” 

It takes time. Paperwork. Permission. A quiet nod from someone behind the desk. Then the wheels of your bed begin to move, and the world around you shifts as they push you down the too-bright hallway, every fluorescent light a drumbeat in your chest. You don’t know what you expect when they wheel you into the room, but it isn’t this. Sunghoon lies still beneath pale blue sheets. Monitors blink softly at his side, IV lines like threads of spun glass winding into the curve of his wrist. He looks too still. Too quiet. His skin is waxen, the color of snowclouds. His lashes fan over cheeks that hold no warmth. He could be sleeping- but the stillness has a weight to it. The kind that feels like silence after music has died. 

“They’re not sure if he’ll wake up,” the nurse murmurs, lingering near the door. “His brain took the worst of it.” You nod once, wooden. Silent. Then the door clicks shut behind her. You are alone with him. And he doesn't know you. You pull your blanket closer around your shoulders, trying to hold in the warmth that suddenly seeps out of you like mist. You wheel yourself closer to his bedside, trembling fingers reaching out- but not quite touching. 

“You don’t know me,” you whisper. The words slice your throat on the way out. “You don’t know my name. You don’t know the way I laugh when I’m nervous, or how I cry when someone talks about their grandmother.” You laugh, a hollow thing. “You don’t know that I drink tea when I’m anxious, or that I never learned to whistle.” Your eyes burn. “I know that you hated my first cover design. I know that you have a terrible poker face and that you secretly adore puns even though you pretend not to. I know that you’re stubborn and serious and kind in the quietest, most impossible ways.” 

“But I also know that none of that’s happened yet. Not here. Not in this version of us.” The red thread lies between you both, as if waiting. “He saved me,” you say aloud, voice crumbling like old paper. “Before he ever knew me.” You reach forward, gently resting your hand over his; cool, unmoving. “I don’t know why this is happening. Why the universe spun the clock backward. But if it brought me here to find you again…” 

You lean closer, forehead nearly brushing the edge of his bed. “…Then I’ll wait. I’ll find a way to make you fall in love with me again. Even if I have to start all over. Even if it takes years. Even if you never remember a single moment.” Your voice breaks on the last word. You sit there in silence, the storm outside casting shadows across the floor. And somewhere, deep beneath the machines and the stillness- You think he might squeeze your hand. Just barely. 

It’s only when the stillness settles, soft and cold as snowfall, that you notice it, his wrist. Peeking out from beneath the hospital blanket, slack and pale in the hush of machines, lies a single braided thread. Red as pomegranate wine. Frayed at the edge, worn, but unmistakable. Your eyes widen. Your breath stalls. It’s the same. The same bracelet. The same shade, the same knot, the same tiny bead like a drop of dried blood tucked between the threads. He still has it on. Your hand trembles as you lift your own wrist, laying it beside his on the edge of the bed. The two strings look like they’ve been waiting all this time, twin threads from different cloths, now side by side, humming quietly in the silence of the room. 

It steals the air from your lungs. The stories your grandmother whispered flicker to life behind your eyes. The red string never breaks. Even when cut, it finds its way back. You’d doubted it- how could you not? After everything. After losing him. After watching him disappear in that final flash of memory and headlights. But now? Now the thread lies between you, unmistakable and real. 

And then he breathes. A gasp. Wet and sudden. You jolt back in shock, eyes darting to his face as his chest rises in a shallow breath, then another. His lashes flutter. His lips part. He’s waking up. He’s waking up and you don’t exist to him here. Your heart stutters, cracking open like thin ice under too much weight. You scramble up from the chair, nearly knocking it over in your rush. “I—I’m sorry. I got the wrong room. I’ll get the doctor—” But before you can turn to flee, before your fingers even brush the call button-

“…Y/n?” It’s so soft you almost miss it. A breath more than a word. A tremble more than a voice. But it’s your name. You freeze, eyes wide, back still turned. “…Y/n,” he says again, a little stronger this time, as if drawing your name up from some hidden place in his bones. You turn slowly, not daring to believe. His eyes are open now, barely, but they’re there. Dark and dazed and clumsy with pain. He’s looking at you like you’re a dream crawling out of the dark. Like he doesn’t know what’s real and what’s just memory, but you- you, he remembers. “How…?” you whisper, barely able to breathe. 

His lips twitch into something like a smile. Weak. Trembling. “Your voice,” he murmurs. “I knew it.”

You stumble back toward his bed, tears burning down your cheeks like fire. “You… remember?” 

“I don’t know,” he whispers. “Not all of it. Just pieces. Feelings. I saw you before I woke up. I felt… like I lost you.” Your hands clutch at the blanket, at your own chest, trying to keep yourself together as your heart swells to fill every broken place. “I thought you wouldn’t know me,” you say through a sob. “I thought I’d have to find you again. Start all over. Make you fall in love with me a second time.” 

He blinks slowly, exhaustion drawing shadows under his eyes. But his fingers twitch, reaching weakly toward you. “You already did,” he says. “In every version of this world… I think I would love you.” 

You sit beside him, hand trembling as it hovers over his. The machines beep quietly, like lullabies sung in code, and outside the clouds churn, endless shades of grey bruising the morning light. But none of it touches you. Not really. Because Sunghoon is awake, and he remembers you. Even though he shouldn’t. Even though this is a time before he should know your name, before your first meeting was ever supposed to happen. Still, he looks at you like you are a story he’s read a thousand times, and only now understands the ending. He turns his wrist slowly, eyes drifting down to the red bracelet wrapped around yours.

“It was always you,” he murmurs, voice soft and unsteady. “Even before I knew it.” You inhale shakily, brushing a stray tear from your cheek. “How?” you whisper. “How do you remember me?” His gaze lifts, lashes damp from pain and memory.

“I had dreams,” he says. “Or… I thought they were dreams. Every time I touched you—I’d see something. Sometimes it was nothing more than a flicker. A flash. You smiling under golden light. A hallway I didn’t recognize. Your voice calling my name in the dark.” He closes his eyes briefly, breath hitching. “But then… every time I touched you, it got stronger. Clearer. And near the end—I saw you dying. I saw you bleeding and screaming and I couldn’t reach you. I’d wake up choking. I didn’t understand why.”

Your fingers clutch at the sheet. “In mine,” you whisper, “you were the one dying.” His eyes flutter open again, searching your face. “You had the red string. I never did. Not in the dreams.” 

A beat. And then another. The air between you crackles with something ancient. Something bigger than time “The string connected to you,” he says, voice thick. “I think it was showing your side. Like the dreams were through my eyes, but your pain. Your memories.” You stare down at the bracelets—his, tucked beneath pale hospital linen. Yours, worn and dulled but still whole. And then the truth falls between you, like a thread slipping back into the eye of the needle. “We’re soul ties,” you say, the words trembling out of you. “Not just lovers. Not just fate. We’re pieces of each other.” 

Sunghoon swallows. “The string wasn’t just some story, was it?” You shake your head, heart pulsing against your ribs like a caged thing. “No. Our grandparents… they had this once too. My grandmother told me stories. She loved a man she could never be with. She said the string would return—find its way through generations if it had to.” 

His eyes shine. “My grandfather gave me this bracelet before he passed. Said it was for ‘when the thread comes back.’ I thought he was being poetic.” You let out a soft, broken laugh. “Mine told me the same.” And for a moment, you are quiet together. Wrapped in this wild, impossible truth. A love so old it circled back. A thread so stubborn it refused to break. Worn by your grandparents. Given to you.

Soul ties. Lovers across lifetimes. The one that got away, born again in a heartbeat and a car crash. “I’m sorry I ever doubted it,” you say, tears slipping down your cheeks. Sunghoon smiles weakly, thumb brushing your wrist. “I’m not. I think we needed to doubt it. To fight it. So that when we stopped… we knew it was real.”

And suddenly the pain of the past doesn't feel like a punishment anymore. It feels like a bridge. A path winding through lifetimes, across heartbreak and death and fate bending back on itself like a red thread pulled tight. You reach for his hand, fingers sliding into his gently. The bracelets touch. The strings align. “I love you,” you whisper, for the first time in this life with your whole soul behind it.

The red string of fate had brought the two of you together, in something so magical and true. More magical than your grandmother had ever described before. Something you wished she 

would have gotten to feel at a scale that you did, in this very moment with sunghoon.

Epilogue

One year later 

The sky is soft that morning draped in cotton grey and trimmed with streaks of early gold. The kind of sky that doesn’t need to dazzle to feel holy. The kind your grandmother used to call a good omen. You stand outside the little toy shop at the corner of the old neighborhood. It’s quiet, the shutters half-open, a chime ringing as you step inside. The air smells like sawdust and lavender, memories and beginnings.

It took time to get here, months of healing, of relearning how to breathe without bracing for grief, of sorting through boxes and stories and broken pieces of the past. You and Sunghoon didn’t rush. You stitched yourselves back together gently, one soft moment at a time. The shop isn’t just your parents’ anymore. It’s yours. It’s new. It’s old. It’s both. Just like your love. Sunghoon’s laughter echoes from the back room, followed by a thud and a quiet curse. You smile, setting the "Grand Reopening" sign in the window.

He appears a moment later, hair tousled and cheeks pink from effort, holding a tiny wind-up ballerina in one hand. “She spins like you when you’re tipsy,” he grins. You roll your eyes. “So, gracefully?”

“Sure,” he teases. “Let’s go with that.” You take it from him and place it on the shelf, right beside a row of handmade music boxes you designed together. There’s a rhythm in everything now. A shared breath. A new life. Wonyoung and Jay come by in the afternoon, arms full of flowers and cake. The four of you spend the day laughing, telling stories, pretending not to see the way Jay looks at Wonyoung when she’s not looking.

Later, after the lights are off and the door is locked behind you, you and Sunghoon walk home under a sky that has cleared into starlight. The city sleeps around you, but your hearts are wide awake. Fingers intertwined, you glance down at the bracelets on your wrists. Still there. Still unbroken The red string doesn’t glow. It doesn’t hum. It simply exists. A quiet truth. A promise kept across time. Sunghoon squeezes your hand. “What do you think our grandparents would say?”

You smile. “That we finally got it right.” And with that, you lean into him, the night folding around you both like a story ending in its rightful place. A love lost once. Returned again. And this time- held tight enough to never let go. Every now and again, Sunghoon would whisper “In every walk of life I will love you.” You knew in your entire body and soul that that was true. 

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