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ourdawnishotterthanourday · 5 months ago

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Suuuuper late to reblogging this but anywaaaayyy....

CHEE MY LOVE YOU DID SO AMAZING ASDHASJHJSAAJSKD! Really knocked it out of the park with this one. It was so damn good, and I was on the edge of my seat the whole time aaaaah. Okay, you already know most of it since I was screaming at you after proofreading, but I'll say it again 🤭 WE NEED MORE OF THIS GOODNESS. And we NEEEEEED more darkness hehehehe 😈

Dark - Y.JH

🌲Who: Gender-neutral reader x Jeonghan 🌲What: Horror. Human reader. Monster Jeonghan. 🌲Wordcount: 3.2k 🌲Warnings: Mental manipulation/control. Some blood and injury. Gradual loss of humanity. Biting. I truly do not know how to tag/warn this but basically, Jeonghan is some kind of eldritch horror who wants reader and morals do not exist for him

Summary: There’s something watching you. It feels old, feels evil, feels dark. You can feel its eyes on you when you pass the woods to get home. It feels hungry.

-2024 Masterlist-

AN- @ourdawnishotterthanourday , thank you for reading through this for me, little one 💗

It’s dark. The kind of dark that isn’t just seen but felt. The kind of dark that seeps into your skin, wraps its cold fingers around your veins and travels through your veins. The kind of dark that makes a home of the deepest corners within you and steals the warmth from your soul. The kind of dark that hardens your heart and refuses to let go.

It’s dark and you don’t know if you can find the light again.

You’re the last to leave. Again. It doesn’t surprise anyone anymore. You’ve been leaving later and later with every passing week.

The sun had set long ago by the time you leave work and start the walk home.

A walk that you shouldn’t really take. The way is dimly lit, the neighbourhood too old for modern security cameras to be commonplace.

It’s dark and not safe. You know this. You had been scared about this when you moved here all those months back. Back when you used to get lifts home from colleagues who worried for your safety too. Back before you lied about being okay to walk home alone.

Something changed. You don’t know what it is, but something in you isn’t the same as it was then. You don’t know if you miss it.

It’s dark and you’re walking home the same route you take every night after work. Far too late into the night.

A cool breeze flutters your hair, presses against your back urging you onwards. Closer to home. Closer to the darkness waiting for you.

An empty house, no one to come home to. No one to wait up and scold you for being so late and reckless, yet relieved to see you home safe. No life within the walls until you return. No one. Just the dark.

It’s a calm night. Like the world has decided to take a break and let the nightcrawlers go about their business with nothing to disturb them. It’s nice. Soothing almost.

You take a deep breath, let the night air chill your lungs, send prickles over the back of your neck.

You almost pause as you realise the shiver running its fingers up your spine isn’t from the lungful of cool air. But you don’t dare.

You know something is watching you. Something is always watching you as you pass the opening to the deep old woods near your home. The only companion you know on these nights.

It used to scare you; cause your heart to race and your lungs to shudder in your chest, expand and deflate erratically and leave no room for anything else. But now. Now there’s something else in your chest, spreading and winding around every inch of you, filling all the gaps and limiting how your lungs expand, forcing them to behave.

It used to scare you; it doesn’t any more.

Still, you don’t dare slow, you don’t dare look because you know with everything in you, you know that the moment you show weakness, show interest, whatever is lurking in the dark will be upon you and you will be helpless to stop it.

It’s dark and cold and…soft. The world is cold around you, burrowing under your skin and spilling ice into your heart, but there is softness underfoot. It’s a little damp and something small tickles over your bare skin, but it’s soft underfoot.

It’s soft and it’s not as bad as you thought it would be.

When you open your eyes on a new day, the curtains are pulled open allowing the morning sun to stream into your bedroom. You remember closing them last night before climbing into bed. You remember locking the window securely.

There’s a gentle breeze against your face, birdsong reaching your ears.

You’re not surprised to find the window open when you look over.

“Are you sure you don’t want to join us?” One of your co-workers, a friendly young man who seems to light up any room he enters checks, even as others call for him to hurry.

“I’m sure, I’m not much of a drinker,” you assure, smiling at him in a way that you hope is assuring. Really, you just want him to leave. You used to like him, when you first met you thought he was the kind of man you would love to have by your side in any capacity, but especially as a romantic partner. But now. Now his sunshine hurts your eyes and makes the fire burn cold at the back of your neck.

“Okay,” he agrees, though he looks disappointed and very bad at hiding it. You pretend not to notice and turn your focus back to your work, tilting your head down in a clear sign of dismissal.

“Come on, Seokmin!” One of your colleagues yells.

“Alright!” He calls back yet hovers a moment longer before abruptly grabbing a pen from the pot and leaning over to take your left hand and scrawl numbers down on your skin. “If you change your mind, here’s my number, I’ll keep my phone on loud. Or if you want someone to walk you home, I’m happy to! It scares me thinking about you walking-”

“There are post-it notes right there,” you comment, looking between his phone number written hastily against your skin and the little stack of bright yellow squares of paper. They’re impossible to miss.

“Oh, right, sorry.” He quickly puts the pen down and backs up with an embarrassed, apologetic smile when you raise your eyes to look at him. “I just-”

“Seokmin!” The loudest of the group almost screeches impatiently, making Seokmin jolt and look at them. “Flirt on company time, not mine!”

“I’m not flirting!” Seokmin shrieks, whirling around to look at you with wide eyes of alarm. “I-I’m not flirting!”

“You should go because they drag you,” you suggest, raising an amused eyebrow.

Seokmin opens his mouth to respond yet just closes it again and nods rapidly before turning and rushing off, zipping his coat as he goes.

You hear him whispering madly, sternly to his friends when he reaches them but you don’t care to discern the words. You’re already looking at the numbers on your hand and wondering if he purposely picked the permanent marker to stain your skin with.

It’s dark, and cold, and soft, and you’re not alone. The ground is still damp and soft under your bare feet, the gentle breeze cool against your skin and you can’t see. But there’s something against your left hand that feels almost tender.

A touch. An icy finger tracing over your skin. Admiring.

Until it’s not.

The gentle touch turns sharp, a piercing burn in a purposeful line across your skin. Warmth spills out, trickling over your skin, dripping off your fingers to the soft ground you stand on.

Your breath catches as your lips press together firmly. You want to cry out, but there is something telling you not to open your mouth. You can’t let the dark spill onto your tongue and slip down your throat.

There’s a sound, something you don’t understand. Something that rattles the very core of you, something indescribable even if you were to try. But it feels old, it feels powerful. And it’s talking to you.

You don’t know what it’s saying but it’s talking to you, voice vibrating in your bones for only a few seconds yet it feels like those few seconds have changed you irreversibly.

Something wet touches your hand. The icy touch of slender fingers hold your palm, leading it closer to the soft wetness. It’s almost warm, but not quite.

The cool wet traces over the warm trails that spilled your hand.

A tongue. Whatever is with you is tracing its tongue over the trail of your spilled blood.

There’s a sound, it sounds pleased.

The tongue passes over the back of your hand. It burns.

You want to cry out.

You keep your mouth shut.

“What happened?” One of your colleagues asks, eyeing the bandage wrapped around your left hand as you take your mug from the coffee machine.

“Just wasn’t paying attention,” you reply with a lighthearted little laugh and shrug. She accepts your words just like that and starts to prattle on about something as she puts her mug where yours was moments before and places a fresh pod into the machine.

Your gaze slides to the white gauze hiding the raised line of a fresh wound on your hand, cutting straight through the stained ink you couldn’t scrub off before bed.

“Did you hear?” Another colleague walks in, his hands holding his oversized empty mug ready to refill, and his eyes are wide.

“Be more specific, Seungkwan, you catch so much gossip it’s impossible to know what you’re talking about at any given time,” the woman on your right scoffs, rolling her eyes but her lips are turned up a little in amusement.

You glance at her and suddenly wonder why you don’t know her name. Have you ever known it? Surely. You must’ve. But you can’t for the life of you remember what it is.

You look at Seungkwan as he moves closer and you realise that you had forgotten his name until the woman spoke it. You wonder what else you’ve forgotten lately; you get the feeling it’s a lot. Yet you find that you don’t care, not really. It’s all meaningless.

“You know how Seokmin didn’t turn up today, right?” Seungkwan whispers as he leans closer to yourself and the nameless woman.

You didn’t ask to be included in this and you almost walk away, but he’s half blocking you in and you don’t really want to go back to your desk and stare at a screen that hurts your eyes even with the brightness turned down. So you remain and just watch the conversation happen as you sip your drink.

“Hungover, he went out with Mingyu and Soonyoung last night and you know how those three get,” the woman muses, plucking her mug from the machine and turning to lean back against the counter and leave space for Seungkwan to access the machine if he wants to. But he doesn’t and continues to clutch his empty mug with wide eyes.

“We all thought that too but he didn’t answer anyone’s texts or calls and you know he’s too nice to do that.” The woman hums in agreement. You don’t have any input yourself but nod a little when Seungkwan looks at you.

It seems right for Seokmin’s character at least, to never intentionally avoid others like that. He always seems too…warm.

Your nose turns up a little at the thought of that warmth. You used to like it. But now. Now even the thought feels suffocating.

“Exactly,” Seungkwan continues, entirely missing your unimpressed turn of expression. “So Mingyu went around there on lunch break to check on him and he’s not there.”

“What?”

“Seokmin isn’t there.”

“Then where is he?”

“Nobody knows. They’re trying to find out. It’s not like Seokmin to do this. They’re worried something happened to him.”

It’s dark, and cold, and soft underfoot and you’re not alone. It’s dark and there’s a cold trail of a gentle touch over your cheek.

There’s that sound, that noise you know means that whatever is with you is talking to you. You don’t understand, but you think you’re starting to.

It’s dark and you’re not alone anymore. You’re not sure you ever were.

There’s a pile of dirty dishes in the sink, a hamper of unwashed clothes in the bathroom. None of it matters. It’s all meaningless.

You’re waiting. Though you’re not sure what for.

But you think you’re starting to understand. Every morning you wake with a breeze on your skin and you think you understand more.

You feel it in you.

Whatever it is, it’s almost ready.

A gasp of your name makes you look up from the display of apples before you. You know the approaching man, he’s familiar. You work with him.

He gets closer, plastic disposable coffee cup in hand and he’s already talking away, gossiping. You lift your eyes from his cup and to his face. He always has a cup. You know that. But you don’t know his name. It doesn’t matter.

“It’s so sad, isn’t it?” The man finishes, frowning at you as if he truly is upset by whatever he had just said to you. You blink at him, not sure what was said but willing to agree to be left in peace already. “About Seokmin?”

You don’t know who Seokmin is. You think you should know, but you don’t. You don’t care either.

“Were you listening?” He frowns further and reaches out towards you. You take a step back out of his reach before his palm can touch your forehead. “Are you okay? You look pale, you feel cold.”

“I’m fine,” you assure. It’s the truth. You are fine. He’s the one emanating a disturbing amount of warmth.

“You’ve been strange lately. Not yourself.”

“I’m fine.”

“Right.” Genuine concern twists his mouth as he curls his hand back around his cup. “You should text Seokmin, let him know that you’re thinking about him, it’ll cheer him up.”

“I have groceries to buy,” you point out. He opens his mouth to say something but you’re already turning and walking away with your basket in hand.

Those apples didn’t seem fresh enough to you anyway.

There’s a man standing on the path as you walk home, a grocery bag swinging from your hand and guided by the gentle moonlight. He’s not moving, just standing, staring into the dark of the woods transfixed.

You know better than that.

As you near the man-shaped obstacle in the path you make an attempt to give him a wide berth but suddenly he turns to face you with wide eyes void of any light. You recognise him, even without his normal warmth.

“Come for a walk with me,” he speaks to you in a voice layered with sounds you can’t describe. Though there is his natural voice and another one there, one you don’t know by ear but you know it. Whatever is in your chest knows it.

You almost falter in your steps but remain steady. You ignore him and walk around his form to continue on your walk.

“You can’t avoid it forever. He’s waiting for you,” he calls after you.

“Go home, Seokmin!” you reply yet don’t look back.

You don’t see him take a step off of the path. You don’t see him slink off into the woods, drawn by something that has its cold fingers too deep in his chest for him to ever be free of again.

It’s dark, until it isn’t. No light comes yet shapes start to form in front of your eyes. Pale thin fingers reaching for you, tipped with short pointed nails. The sharpness of which you have proof of under the bandage on your hand.

A gentle caress on your cheek.

A blink of your eyes and a face appears. Or perhaps it was always there. You just didn’t see it before.

It looks human, yet doesn’t. Too beautiful, too ghastly. A contradiction you are unable to remove your gaze from. You don’t want to remove your gaze from.

Dark wisps of hair fall over an even darker eye as its head tilts a little. To the left then to the right.

Pretty lips stained red stretch wide, too wide. Sharp teeth put on display. Too many teeth. But so pretty. Dangerous. And beautiful.

It’s smiling, eyes swirling with twisted pleasure as it stares at you, a cold, gentle thumb rubbing a tender pattern against your cheek. The smile grows as you tilt ever so slightly into the touch.

Teeth rescind before your eyes. They remain sharp yet fewer appear and are smaller than before. Leaving space for sounds to slip through. You catch sight of a pale tongue moving within its mouth as it forms sounds. Words.

But you don’t understand. You don’t know the ancient language it speaks.

Yet.

A soft touch to your bottom lip and your mouth falls open at the request of this horrifyingly beautiful creature before you.

It smiles widely, pleased by your willing obedience as darkness spills onto your tongue and slips down your throat.

It’s dark when you open your eyes, no light streaming in from your window. The breeze is still on your face where you lay.

It’s soft under your back, soft and cold and damp.

“Welcome to your new life, little one.” You’ve never heard the voice before, not on its own, only blended with the man on the path. It’s velvet smooth yet crackles at the edge with a cold fire. Comfort and danger in one. You know the owner even without looking over.

Still, you look.

Beauty and horror rolled into one haunting creature resembling a human male, yet far from it.

He’s sitting on the damp forest ground a little to your right, smiling at you with those sharp teeth on show, his dark, dangerous eyes which hold no light or warmth locked on you. And yet you feel…adored.

“What’s your name?” You ask, voice soft and calm, at peace here laid on the bed of moss beside the being that could tear you apart and swallow you whole if he so desired. You think he once wanted to. But now. Now you think he still might. But only to carry you with him always.

You think you would let him, if he asked.

“My name?” He repeats, leaning forward. You nod and then suddenly he’s slinking over the ground, crawling in a manner that should not be possible, his bones should not move in such a way if he were human.

But he’s not.

“Names hold power here, little one, do you think I would give a mere human power over me?” He taunts, placing each of his bony hands either side of your head as he leans over you, head tilting too far to the right for a human neck.

“I don’t feel human anymore.” You reply and lift your hand to feather your fingers over his cheek. Perfectly smooth and cold, yet still soft.

“I suppose you are not.” He chuckles and dips down to brush the tip of his nose over your neck, to breathe the scent of you in.

“What am I now?”

“Mine.” Sharp teeth pierce your delicate skin, not deeply, just enough to draw blood that a cold, wet tongue laps up greedily.

“Then tell me your name. If I’m yours, I will never want to do you harm.”

He leans up. Peers at you as he licks blood stained teeth and swallows every drop.

“You are mine.” He repeats.

“I am yours.”

“Prove it, let me have you.”

“I am yours.” You repeat firmly, tugging him down to taste your blood on his tongue.

It’s dark, and cold, and soft under your bare back, and you are not alone.

“My name is Jeonghan.”

It’s dark and you don’t want to find the light again.

Don’t forget to reblog if you liked to help spread the story and let others read it too! And don't be shy to leave comments or send an ask so I can see your thoughts 🥺 💖

Permanent taglist: @okiedokrie @variety-is-the-joy-of-life

#poor seok though omg #man was only trying score himself a gf #and jealous hannie was like nuhu #NOT TODAAAAAY #LMAOO #he never stood a chance #i really need to see more of this hannie and reader interaction #you caught me at the right time in my dark era #also #you are a litteral genius #as you already know #love youuuu my lemon drop 🍋#mootz 💖#Chee 💖#JiJis recs

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neejaatjeh · 1 year ago

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Okaaaaay Bambi here is my review for chapter 5 FINALLY AHHH!!! I both loved and hated this chapter at the same time because how could you do this to me?!!! The angst was so real. Like everything was going so well and then u just had to cut it off like that 😭 why is cheol such an oblivious idiot wtfff?!

But thank God for Mingyu and Jeonghan ❤️ they are true friends and argh im so jealous cuz I wish I had them in my life.

And then that fucking bitch Hajun!! Omg I really want to beat the shit out of her. Because she's nothing but a jealous shit fr!!! And finally cheol stood up for MC and told her off. It was really about time jesus....

So curious to read the final part now 👀👀 I just know it's gonna be good hehe ❤️

pretty please (stay with me) || c.sc || 5

“After being assigned a fashion show for your big senior project, you set off to find volunteers to make it successful. However, when you meet Choi Seungcheol and his unfriendly clique through your volunteers, you realize they’re an unwanted package deal you can’t escape from. Can you handle Seungcheol’s obnoxious friends, and can he handle your brash behavior?”

🍒 Pairing: businessMajor!Seungcheol x fashionMajor!Reader (afab)

🍒 Rating/Genres/AUs: M(18+); Slice of life (!!!), slow burn, drama, fluff, angst; Unrequited enemies to lovers, strangers to lovers, college au

🍒 Warnings: General tws + seungcheol's not smart with his words, name calling not in bed (bitch), mention of murder (jokingly), slut-shaming

🍒 WC: 11.6k

🍒 Betas: Sarah, Indi, Kelly, Freya 🤩

🍒 Author’s Note: I love seeing everyone's reactions to the chapters so far! The last chapter was the calm before the storm, so prepare for lots of angst in this chapter 🫣 Thank you for reading, and please enjoy the early upload ♥️

also read here: AO3 | Wattpad

seventeen masterlist | main masterlist

previous chapter \\ pretty please masterpost // next chapter

Waking up in Seungcheol's bed is a lot more relaxing this time.

Partly because Seungcheol has your back pressing against his chest, an arm slung over your body, and his head nestled against yours. You rest an arm over his as you take a deep breath, recalling the memories from last night. The events flash in front of you as if you’re clicking through a view master. From Dae and you drinking to both of you on the floor, to hitting Hajun, to the argument you had with Seungcheol, to having his body moving with yours.

You thought you were going to get closure last night, but you only opened the wound wider. It’s going to be harder to stay away from him. At this point, you don’t want to either. You just need to find a way to stop seeing his business friends every time you see Seungcheol. If anything, you are more willing to find alternatives than completely push him out of your life.

Seungcheol stirs behind you, body untangling from yours to switch sides. You think he’s going to get up, but he just stills again. You peer over your shoulder to look at him. He has his back to you now, so you can’t see his face. You decide to let him rest longer since it’s the weekend, after all.

You carefully climb out of bed and put on the hoodie and boxers he had given you last night. You walk to his bathroom, ready to freshen up, only to remember you didn’t come with anything.

Your eyes land on his toothbrush. You can snoop around until you find a new one, but you don't want to risk his privacy. You can just use your finger… Ah, whatever, you’ll ask him really quickly, then let him go back to sleep.

Padding back to the bed, you carefully kneel in front of him.

Seungcheol has never been unattractive, yet you didn’t find him that handsome initially. Though right now, he looks beyond stunning. Strands of his hair lay in front of his face, and his lips are in their natural downward position. Nothing has changed in his appearance from when you first met him, so why does your heart flutter at the sight of him at this moment?

Sighing at your never-ending thoughts, you reach out and shake him gently.

“Seungcheol?” you ask softly so as to not scare him awake. You expect to have to wiggle him a few more times, but he wakes up instantly. His eyes find yours easily and fill with worry as he starts to sit up. You begin to feel guilty waking him up for a silly toothbrush.

“You alright? Are you hurt?” he asks. His morning voice is as deep as you remember. Although it’s still attractive, you find it cute now. You’d fall asleep around him more just so you could hear his voice the next morning.

You give him a tiny reassuring smile. “I’m okay. I just wanted to know if I could have a spare toothbrush.”

Upon hearing your words, his body relaxes. He sits up fully and swings his legs over the edge of the bed. The covers fall down his body, pooling in his lap. You forgot he is naked. Now with the morning light, you can see his chest clearer. You had felt every inch of it last night, even saw it due to his lamp, but seeing it in a new light is another joy. Or perhaps it’s because your mind isn’t as cloudy.

“Of course, baby,” he rasps. The small chuckle accompanied by his response is low, and you want to hear it again.

Seungcheol steps from the bed, letting the cover fall half on the floor. You shake your head at his carelessness. While he retrieves a pair of sweats from his dresser, you pick up the cover from the floor.

“You could’ve just left it there,” he smiles as he strolls past you into the bathroom. You can’t help but make a mental correction in your daydreams—Seungcheol would wear sweats without a shirt.

“It was going to bother me,” you reply and turn to watch him. He leans down, opens the lower cabinet, and digs around until he lifts an unboxed toothbrush.

“For you,” he says and tilts it in your direction. You take it and free the brush. Seungcheol takes the trash from you as he stands, then points to the toothpaste on the counter. “Feel free to use it, okay?”

You nod. “Thank you. I’ll give you a new one in return,” you reply, starting to prep the toothbrush.

“Don’t worry about it.”

Seungcheol tosses the trash in the bin next to the sink, then pauses in his actions, as if debating on what to do. After a second, he quickly grabs his own toothbrush. You watch him silently while you brush your teeth. Soon, Seungcheol is copying your actions, giving you a smile in the mirror when he catches your stare. Your heart twists with affection, and seeing both your reflections—dressed in casual wear and doing a simple act—is all too domestic.

Almost as if this is something that is normal for you two, but it isn’t. Not liking how comfortable you are starting to feel, you quickly rinse your mouth. Seungcheol reaches down and holds your hair back as you do so. Once you’re done, Seungcheol grabs the brush and places it in the container. He rinses his mouth next before setting his toothbrush down next to yours.

Who knew seeing two toothbrushes next to each other would be the cause of your mental spiral?

You walk from the bathroom and into the living room, trying to find your purse. He follows you slowly.

“You’re not about to make me a one-night stand, are you?” he asks. His voice is playful, but you know it isn’t a rhetorical question.

You think about it, but unfortunately, he’s your ride. The only other person you can call right now is hung over at another person’s apartment.

“I just wanted to see if Dae was okay,” you answer.

“Oh, right,” he says, seeming to have forgotten about her predicament. It doesn’t bother you, though. She isn’t his concern. “I put it over here.”

You turn to see him grabbing it. You walk over, taking it from him before fishing out your phone. Ah, of course. Dead.

Your pout must be evident on your face, because Seungcheol asks, “What’s wrong?”

You flip the phone over to show a black screen.

“No power,” you sigh and toss the useless brick of a phone back into your purse.

Seungcheol glances around, then leaves to grab something from another part of the room. It’s his phone.

He presses a few things on the screen before lifting the device to his ear.

“Hey,” he says and moves to sit on the couch. When he pats the spot next to him, you go over.

“Yeah, she’s fine,” he continues.

From a close distance, you can faintly hear Joshua on the other end.

“That’s good,” Joshua says. “Dae’s up. She wasn’t doing too well earlier, but she seems better now.”

“Speaking of, Yn wanted to talk to her. Can you give the phone over?”

“Sure thing,” he answers.

Seungcheol gives you the phone with a small smile.

“Thanks,” you mutter and bring the phone to your ear. You lean back on the couch so your head is against the armrest. Seungcheol places your legs over his lap and begins massaging your calves. You give him a smile at his actions, his strong hands feeling nice against your skin. The sight of him shirtless doing a mundane act has butterflies forming in your tummy. You’re about to daydream about him, but Dae’s loud voice snaps you away from those thoughts.

“Did I really puke on you?!” Dae gasps on the other side. You pull the device from your ear slightly at the loud noise.

“Yeah, so not only do you owe me a pair of heels, you owe me a whole outfit too,” you tease.

“Pluh-ease, just take something of Seungcheol’s and call it a deal. I’m sure he’s got some designer clothes you can steal.”

Your eyes snap to him at her suggestion. Seungcheol has his focus on your legs, acting like he isn’t listening in, but the smile on his lips tells you he is.

“I don’t need his clothes,” you reply with a huff. “I just wanted to see if you were okay.”

“Considering I’m at a cute stranger’s apartment, in a cute stranger’s room, I’m doing just peachy.”

“You think Joshua is cute?” you ask. Okay, so this isn’t the time for girls talk, but the question leaves your lips before you can stop it.

Dae giggles. “A little. Don’t you?”

Seungcheol’s hands squeeze your legs as if challenging you to say yes.

Despite agreeing with Dae, you answer with a shrug, “He’s not ugly.”

Hopefully, that’s good enough to save your ass.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” Dae concludes.

Your eyes flicker to Seungcheol to see his reaction. There’s a hint of a pout on his plump lips. You hold back a laugh. Still a baby, you think with a shake of your head.

“Hey, did those assholes leave you alone eventually? I started to black out. I don’t quite remember,” Dae wonders.

At the mention of Hajun and Hana, you avert your gaze from Seungcheol.

“Sort of,” you trail off. They didn’t, but you don’t want to bad mouth Seungcheol’s friends in front of him. Not that it probably matters; it’s not a surprise you don’t get along.

“It’s fine. Nothing I can’t handle.” You try to dismiss the topic.

“To an extent, Yn. I know you,” she says, more serious now. “Remember, don’t let them get to you. They’re the real whores. Oh, did they ever take that picture?”

Knowing Dae doesn’t want to let up on the conversation. You start to retract your legs from Seungcheol so you can go to another room. However, he grips your legs so you can’t move. You eye him confused, but he still doesn’t look at you. Sighing, you lay back down.

“I don’t know,” you answer honestly.

“Hm. I think Joshua stopped them. He said when he came out, neither of them had their phones out.”

“T-that’s good.”

“I just wanted to ask in case you saw otherwise,” she explains. “I know what I said before, but you’re right. Seungcheol should really lose them as friends.”

You speak fast before she can dive into the topic further.

“Look, I just called to see—”

“Well, besides that. Was Seungcheol nice to you last night?” she interrupts.

Your hands start to play with his hoodie as you try to ignore the fact he can hear everything. The answer depends on which part of the night she wants to refer to. He was not nice the first half, but the second half… You feel a shiver run down your spine at the thought of you two in bed. His hands and lips over your body as he made you feel so, so good.

Not wanting Seungcheol to question your response, you semi-lie, “Yes.”

“Hm,” she pauses. You can tell she thinks you’re lying by your delayed answer. “Did something happen between you two?”

Yes.

“No.”

Dae giggles. “I knew you liked him! You did the two-person tango with him, huh? You send me off to be babysat so you can have some freaky time.”

“Dae!” you scold and pull your legs from Seungcheol’s lap despite him trying to stop you again.

She gasps on the other line. “You haven’t had se—”

You jolt from the couch and briskly walk to the other side of the room.

“I should get going. I’m glad you’re fine though,” you rush.

“Alright, alright. We’ll talk later about that,” she laughs. “Do you need me to get Joshua to pick you up?” she asks. You finally looked at Seungcheol again. He’s looking at you now, face unreadable. Your heart races a little at not knowing what he’s thinking.

“No, I can get Seungcheol to drop me off.”

“Okay. I’ll be home soon and will probably go back to sleep.”

“Alright. Get back safely,” you reply.

“You too, Yn.”

You hang up the call and slowly walk toward him to give the phone back. You hate how silent it is.

“Pretend you didn’t hear anything,” you tell him.

You expect him to bring up your fight with his friends again, but instead, he asks about another part. One that takes you by surprise.

“You were a virgin?” His voice comes out hushed, but it’s so quiet you have no trouble hearing it. Rather than sounding frightened like some others may, he sounds doubtful. To your disappointment, he even chuckles under his breath.

Before you can completely digest his words, he adds, “So, I wasn’t number sixty-seven?”

Your body halts.

Although you aren’t a virgin, you feel hurt by his implication that you sleep around. It’s then you recall Dae on the phone. You cut her off before she could finish her sentence. You haven’t had sex in a while, having dumped your ex for being a douche and not wanting to hook up with some rando from a bar in the meantime.

“You think I’ve slept with everyone on campus?” you ask, trying to keep your voice steady as you look for your ruined outfit from last night. There’s a sense of foreboding as you await his reply.

“Well, maybe not everyone,” he says slowly and raises his head to look at you. There’s a teasing tone hidden somewhere in that sentence, but you don’t find it funny.

You stare at him incredulously, your movements halting at his words. Is he serious right now? You’re not sure where this is coming from, but you don’t need to hear more. Wherever your outfit is, it can stay there. You don’t care about it that much to last another minute here looking for it.

“Ah, right. I just have people lining up as I keep my legs spread. Oh! But there are always newcomers that enroll. We can’t forget them, so you’re right. Not everyone,” you hiss out, mind ripping up every pleasurable thought you ever had about Seungcheol. All those minutes thinking of him are wasted in a blink of an eye.

“That’s not what I meant,” he replies with a shake of his head, standing up. “I meant you’re just too pretty to have not had se—”

“What a fucking pig,” you berate. “Being pretty doesn’t have anything to do with being a virgin or not. I can be pretty without being a whore.”

Panic rises in his eyes. “You’re right. I didn’t mean—I just… Shit.” He closes his eyes tightly for a moment, but you don’t wait for him to collect his thoughts.

“I see why you let your friends talk shit about me now,” you say as you snatch your purse from where you left it. You lock eyes with him when you continue, “It’s because you agree with them.”

It’s like the light bulb above your head suddenly turns on.

You know it was unlikely he wouldn't ditch those friends, but you thought you could deal with it if you didn’t have to see them. You could visit Seungcheol somewhere in private or with your mutual friends instead. You would have found ways to be with him because your feelings for him were too strong to overlook. Though, now you saw that would never happen. It truly was all an illusion.

And you were right earlier.

He already thinks bad of you.

“That’s not true at all,” Seungcheol urges. “I’m sorry. I was just surprised and joking before. I didn’t use my words correctly. Hear me out, Cherry.”

He definitely did not sound surprised earlier, and his “jokes”… Yeah. His words were ass. And so is he.

You take a deep inhale, fanning the flames so as to not let your heart feel anything but anger.

“Joking... You and those ‘friends’ of yours always tell such hilarious jokes,” you laugh dryly and turn for his door. Recalling you don’t have a car, your gaze lands on his face. Well, since you are already a bitch in his eyes, might as well bring that persona to life.

“Where are you going? You’re not even dressed. Yn, stop! Just stay here, and let’s talk,” he implores, rushing to you.

You forgot you’re just in his hoodie and boxers. Heck, you don’t even have shoes on. None of that matters to you, though.

You quickly whip around to face him.

“I’m so terribly sorry,” you over-exaggerate your apology as you reach behind you. “I can’t stay any longer. My one o’clock fuck is waiting for me.”

Your hand snatches his keys then you’re storming out of his apartment. You hear him yelling after you, but you ignore it while you rush to find his car before he can catch you.

Voices to your right catch your attention, which has you sighing with relief when you see familiar, friendlier faces. You’re not sure how they always pop up around you, but you aren’t complaining for once.

Chan, Jun, and Soonyoung are walking toward you while they chat. They don’t notice you at first, but the sound of your feet hitting the pavement catches their attention.

“Yn?!” Jun exclaims, eyes big at seeing you.

“What are you wearing? Where are your clothes?!” Soonyoung asks. His shocked expression quickly turns into concern.

“Yn’s here?” another voice asks. Jeonghan stands by the driver’s seat of the car the others got out of. He props an arm on the top of the vehicle, his door still open. You’ve never been happier to see his face.

“Yn!” Seungcheol’s voice calls out behind you. You don’t bother looking back and quickly maneuver around the three men to get in the car. Thankfully, it isn’t locked yet.

“Where are your clothes?” Chan asks Seungcheol.

“Jeonghan, get your ass in the car now, or I’m going to burn your legos,” you threaten quickly as you buckle, remembering his precious Lego collection you once saw in his room.

“Aish,” he grumbles and gets in, shutting the door. You quickly lock the doors and then point to the road.

“Drive now,” you demand.

“Woah, just calm down. Why are—”

There is a loud knock at your window, and you see Seungcheol’s face appear.

“Yn, please just come out. I can explain,” he begs.

You glare at Jeonghan, one that is a lot fiercer than you’ve ever given him.

“You think I’m joking about your fucking legos?” you growl, a finger pointing in his direction.

“Seungcheol’s going to beat my ass,” he whines as he starts the car.

“And I’m going to beat yours and burn down your Le—”

“I got it,” Jeonghan huffs and glances at Seungcheol apologetically.

“Jeonghan, I swear if you fucking drive off, I will—” Seungcheol growls from outside the car.

“Sorry, my grandma suddenly needs me!” Jeonghan shouts before he backs out of the spot, slowly at first so he doesn't run over Seungcheol’s feet, not that you care, then speeds out of the parking lot.

You glance in the side mirror, seeing Seungcheol still yelling as the other men watch, confused and shocked behind him. Your eyes finally tear away when they become little specks in the distance. A sigh leaves your lips as you allow your body to sag in the seat, head tilting back.

“There’s a jacket in the back if you want it,” Jeonghan says softly.

You glance back and find it folded on the seat. You grab it, draping it over your bare legs. “Thanks.”

He sighs. “Now, do you want to tell me what that was about?”

“Seungcheol’s an asshole.”

Your reply is curt. You think that’s a good enough reason to leave him in the dust.

“Okay,” Jeonghan answers slowly, “but that was a pretty big fight you two had.”

“Seungcheol’s a really big asshole,” you correct.

Jeonghan chuckles lightly. “Alright. Then explain your attire.”

“Dae puked on me last night; Seungcheol let me borrow clothes.”

“He didn’t give you pants?”

“He did,” you trail off. You don’t want to tell him you just didn’t put them on again this morning. How would you explain how they got discarded in the first place?

He’s silent for a moment, trying to put the puzzle together himself.

“Where’s Dae?” he wonders. You’re grateful he decides to let it go.

“Probably at home by now… Can you drop me off there?” you ask. You can’t go home dressed the way you are. Dae will probably be sleeping, as she told you, but a few loud knocks should wake her up.

“Sure. What’s the address?”

You inform him quickly then glance out the window. The sun is shining and the clouds are out. You can’t remember how it feels outside since you were only focused on getting out of there.

Jeonghan doesn’t say anything for a few minutes, letting the sound of the car on the road fill the empty space.

“Whatever Seungcheol did, I hope he can fix it. I know he cares about you,” Jeonghan comments.

Your gaze drops down to your lap. The hoodie you wear comes back into view. You hate how you can still smell him.

“I don’t think he can,” you reply.

Your mind goes back to what he said to you. Anger was the only emotion fueling you at the time, but now that you’re settling down and your mind is becoming clearer, several emotions creep into your chest.

Betrayal. Distress. Crestfallen.

Jeonghan releases a small breath. “That bad?”

“Yeah, Jeonghan. He really messed up.”

The ride is quiet now. While you are grateful, you actually wish Jeonghan kept talking. At least then, you would be distracted from your thoughts.

Seungcheol was just holding you tenderly hours ago. Your body tingles at the mere memory of his gentle touch. He was acting so sweet toward you. For those blissful hours, you felt like you were his. Was he acting? Had he wanted you for different reasons?

Tears prick at your eyes, but you blink them back. You don’t want to cry in front of Jeonghan. You refuse to.

When you arrive, Jeonghan parks the car and gets out of the vehicle. He comes around to your door and opens it, holding out a hand. For a moment, you imagined his hand is Seungcheol’s. He would always open your door and help you out.

“You don’t have to walk me there,” you say, words mimicking what you’ve told Seungcheol before in the past.

“You’re barely dressed. I’m not risking anything,” he replies. His light, cheerful voice is stern now, and you know he isn’t going to change his mind.

People stare at you strangely in the elevator, but when they peer up at Jeonghan, who stands behind you—something about you hiding your front and him your back—they quickly avert their gaze.

It takes four loud bangs on her door until Dae opens it. Her half-lidded eyes open quickly at your state.

“Am I drunk again? Why does Seungcheol look like Jeonghan?” she asks.

“You’re not drunk. It is Jeonghan,” you reply, then turn to him. “Thank you for driving. I really appreciate it.”

You hope the sincerity in your words is conveyed with your tone. Given the non-cocky smile on his face, you know he understands.

“Even though I’m friends with Seungcheol, know I’m your friend too, Yn. If you need me, you have my number,” Jeonghan says.

You’re not sure if you will ever take him up on his offer since it’s unclear where his loyalties lie between you and Seungcheol, but his intentions are kind, and you’re grateful nonetheless. He starts to walk away but you reach out to stop him.

“Wait,” you quickly say. You pull a set of keys from the hoodie’s pocket. “Give these back to Seungcheol for me? Or toss them in a lake, I don’t care, but take them, please.”

Dread fills Jeonghan’s face when he notices what they’re for. He reluctantly takes the keys from your hand.

“He’s really going to kill me now.”

Luckily for both you and Jeonghan, Seungcheol does not murder him.

For him, it means he has another day to finish his Lego tower. For you, it means he can finish those flyers he promised you.

“There should be twenty-five in there,” Minghao says while pointing to the stack of papers in your hands.

Minghao and Jeonghan completed the flyers for your show, and you are at the latter’s apartment to pick them up. You flip through them quickly—having already seen mock-ups earlier. There are six of each element plus one extra to turn into Dr. Lim.

“These look great, guys,” you say as you finish looking at them again.

“Thanks,” Jeonghan says. “You need help putting them up?”

You raise your eyebrows at him. “You’re really offering to help more?”

“You’re not that bad to work with,” Minghao chuckles, standing from his seat to grab his bag. He came to see if you needed anything else before his class.

“Speak for yourself, Hao—Ow!”

Jeonghan whines when you smack his arm with the flyers.

“Kidding, Yn,” he grumbles, “but yes, we will help you. You’re our friend.”

Their friend.

After years of just having Dae, it’s odd to think you actually have more friends—a lot of them, for that matter. It’s not like you gained two new friends this semester. No, you gained thirteen. Fourteen, if you count Seungcheol, but is he really a friend? Do friends make your heart soar with just a glance? Are friends able to take your heart and leave you feeling like an empty husk? It doesn’t matter now. He isn’t in your life. If he was your friend then, he isn’t anymore.

“If you leave some here, we’ll hang them up later,” Minghao instructs.

You gaze at him, letting yourself focus on what is happening now. You can sorrow in the privacy of your four walls later.

Sighing, you nod and sort a few flyers out from the stack. You place them on Jeonghan’s coffee table.

“Thanks. Just let me know which buildings you put them up in,” you say. “It’ll just save me time in the future.”

“No problem. Well, I’m glad you like them! I should get going before I’m late,” Minghao replies with a small smile on his face. He gives you both a wave before exiting the apartment.

Once Minghao is gone, Jeonghan looks at you. “What are the plans today?”

You shrug. It probably will consist of finishing bringing your designs to life or maybe taking Seoah to get something to eat. Anything to keep yourself busy from your mind.

“Not sure yet,” you reply.

“You know, I’m kind of hurt you didn’t ask me to be one of your models,” Jeonghan says with a playful smile. “Mingyu’s overrated.”

You laugh lightly, rolling your eyes at his latter comment. “Mingyu has the face and body of a model. You…?”

You trail off as your eyes glide down his body teasingly. Jeonghan sits up when he sees what you’re doing, trying to pose nonchalantly.

“Mingyu doesn’t have this hair, though,” Jeonghan comments. His semi-long locks are tied in a half-up-half-down style. It looks good, but you aren’t going to admit that to him.

“True, and thank goodness for that.”

“Hey!”

You laugh at his reaction. “I just didn’t want to overbook you,” you finally explain. “You were already helping me with these flyers.”

“That’s thoughtful of you,” he answers.

“Don’t get used to it,” you huff and start picking up your purse. It’s getting late, and there’s no reason to stay longer.

“Wait, I have something for you,” Jeonghan rushes.

“I already have the flyers,” you say and gesture to the stack.

He smiles, shaking his head as he stands. “Something else.”

You watch as he jogs to his room. There are sounds of things moving around before Jeonghan yells for you to close your eyes. After arguing for a second, you finally relent.

“Are they closed?” he asks from his room.

“They’re not about to be if you take any longer,” you grumble.

You listen to his footsteps become louder as he approaches. Suddenly something is set in your lap.

When Jeonghan instructs you to open your eyes, you peep down to see a bag. Jeonghan gestures to it when you don't open it right away. Hesitantly, you reach inside.

Your hands meet something textured, and you grip it gently to pull it out.

“H-how’d you get this?” you ask slowly. Your wide eyes don’t mask the surprise you feel upon seeing the fabric you had been wanting to get so badly a few weeks ago. However, instead of navy blue, it’s red.

Jeonghan shrugs and watches you nervously. “Do you like it?”

“I—” you start but for once, you are out of words.

You lay the fabric over your lap as you admire the sheerness, small specks of glitter scattering across the surface. You aren’t able to use it as you originally planned since you’ve already adjusted the design to not use the fabric, and it’s also the wrong color. Regardless, it’s too beautiful to not use in some way.

You are about to thank him when you remember the cost. It isn’t the same color, but it’s the same design and brand, which means it’s probably just as expensive.

“This was a lot of money,” you state and glance up at Jeonghan. His eyes are roaming around the room then moving to look at you when you speak. “You shouldn’t have bought this.”

Jeonghan smiles, albeit a little bittersweet for a reason you aren’t sure of. “We do a lot of things we shouldn’t when we like someone.”

“Is that your way of saying you like me?” you wonder, folding the fabric to place in the bag again. You mean “like” in a platonic way and hope Jeonghan understands this.

“I do,” he chuckles lightly. “You put up a tough front, but you’re not too bad of a friend.”

Your smile is small at his response. Glad you don’t have to have an awkward conversation about which version of “like” you mean.

“Too bad?” you tease and stand up, your bag and purse on your arm.

Jeonghan tilts his head. “You did threaten to burn my Legos three weeks ago. That wasn’t very friendly.”

“Just imagine that I said that lovingly,” you answer, forcing the memory of that day from your mind. Although you know it won’t be that easy since it already keeps resurfacing.

“Right,” he responds, dragging out the word in a knowing smile. He walks you to the door when he sees you’re ready to leave. He opens the door, watching as you step out with his head resting against the side of the frame.

“Jeonghan?” you say after taking a few steps away. You turn to look at him. He wears that same bittersweet smile on his lips from earlier.

“Yn,” he responds.

“Thank you for… for the fabric. That was very kind of you, and I—” you pause as you try to voice your truest thoughts. It still doesn’t come easy, but you want him to know how grateful you are. “I don’t know if I deserved it.”

“I think you deserve more, but that can be a topic for another day. Get home safely, Yn,” Jeonghan replies as he lifts his head from the door.

You stay still for a moment. His words register in your head slowly while you stare at him. You’ve experienced Jeonghan being nice to you despite his constant jokes, but he’s never said anything on this level before. There is a moment where you think he is lying to you, but even though Jeonghan is playful, you don’t think he would lie to you—especially not now.

You bid farewell to Jeonghan once you collect yourself.

You’re not sure if that day he speaks about will ever come, but you are content with just knowing he thinks highly of you.

Home is better.

Still not Hallmark-perfect, but better. As expected, your mother leaves for another trip somewhere. She stops by, and to your surprise, your father lets her talk to you and Seoah. For once, there is no screaming. No yelling. No hostile attitude from either of your parents. It’s odd yet refreshing.

Your mother apologizes for not always being there for you and your sister. She says she will message you both when she has time. You nod, but you don’t believe her. She has given you the “promise message” before, and it never happened.

Additionally, if she is truly sorry, she wouldn’t keep leaving when she has a family here. Perhaps that’s a selfish thought, but it doesn’t matter. It won’t make a difference. You’re not sure when or if you’ll see her again. It’s clear she isn’t allowed to stay here if she comes back. Visiting is fine, but that’s all. Despite it all, you wish you are able to see her in the future.

Your father began attending dinners after your mother left. He reasons it’s time to start being more like a family again. You bite your tongue when you want to say he never was part of it to begin with.

The first night together is awkward. Seoah breaks the tension eventually, but it always reverts back to crickets. After a while, your father starts to make small talk.

How was your day? Is your homework going fine? Are classes hard?

You never are one for small talk, but at least he is trying.

Though he only tries during dinner. As always, he stays inside his office the majority of the day. It’s like nothing changes until it becomes dinner time. Then you are a family. Once that is over, it goes back to normal.

You tell yourself it’s just baby steps, which is better than no steps at all.

“So, Savannah ate her homework as a… dare?” your dad asks at dinner one night.

“No!” Seoah sighs, having tried to get your dad to understand her story for the past five minutes. “It’s because she’s crazy!”

“But I don’t understand why she would do that willingly,” your father replies. He has food on his fork, but it’s paused in mid-air, completely appalled by his daughter’s story.

“No one really knows. The point is she’s insane,” Seoah says.

“And she did this in front of her teacher?”

“She did it in class, so I supposed you could say that. At least she ate the homework that was already graded,�� she huffs before stuffing her cheeks full.

“Yes, at least it was graded,” your dad agrees slowly as if he is still processing the story. He then turns to you.

“How’s Dae?”

He finally takes a bite while waiting for your response.

“She’s fine. We’re already done with our projects finally,” you answer.

“Ooh, I’m excited to see them! Dad and I are coming, you know?” Seoah says with a bright smile.

“I know,” you reply, trying to hide the grin that wants to show. You were a little shocked when they first told you they had gotten tickets. Even though you were secretly hoping they would come, you didn’t want to expect it. After all, it would be less disappointing if they didn’t come when your expectations were already low. It’s not that they don’t support you, but with everything going on, you weren’t sure if either of them had the time.

“Are your other friends going too?” asks your father.

Your gaze drops to your lap as you recall the conversation with Mingyu, Seungkwan, and Wonwoo. Seungcheol planned to get his friends—now your friends as well—to come to the show; however, you haven’t spoken to him since that weekend. You don’t know if any of them are coming now that Seungcheol most likely isn’t organizing his “surprise” anymore.

“I’m not sure,” you answer as you roll your shoulders back, sitting up straighter. No reason to be sad over it. You don’t need to be upset about losing someone who looks down on you. If anything, you should be glad you’re not talking to him. Your life is better now. Less drama.

At least that’s what’s been repeating in your head.

“What about that one boy? The one who came here? Seungch—”

“Shh!” Seoah gasps and puts her hand out to stop him. “You’re not supposed to talk about him in this house anymore.”

“W-what? Why not? He was very nice,” your father says. He glances between the both of you puzzled.

They always start that way, huh?

“They’re not talking anymore,” Seoah whispers, but you can hear it clearly.

“Oh,” your dad says and then looks at you with a sympathetic expression. It has you wincing internally. You don’t need his pity. “I’m sorry to hear that, honey. I’m sure he meant a lot to you.”

His words fish out all those thoughts you tried to drown. You aren’t about to spiral in front of your family.

“I’m going to work on my project more. Final adjustments and whatnot. Seoah, do you mind doing the dishes tonight?” you ask as you push your chair back.

“Only because you’re sad,” she replies.

Sighing, you grab your dishes, and place them in the sink.

Before you leave, you mumble, “I’m not sad.”

Seoah makes a sound to let you know she doesn’t believe you but doesn’t bug you about it.

“Way to go, Dad,” you hear her grumble as you’re leaving.

Shutting your bedroom door is akin to shutting off the lights in the world. It transports you to a place only you’re allowed in. A place where you are able to feel everything you have been keeping under lock and key.

As soon as you hear the familiar click of your door, you feel your knees buckle.

You stagger to your bed and let your body flop onto the mattress. There’s an influx of the thoughts and feelings you had repressed.

Four weeks.

It’s been nearly four weeks since you last saw him. Heard his voice. At least not in conversations.

The first few days after that weekend, you ran into him on campus. Well, more like he found you. He’d call your name; he’d tell you he was sorry and ask for you to listen to him. Though each time, you ignored him. You went the other way and never said a word to him. Eventually, he stopped trying. He stopped finding you. He stopped calling your name. The frequent texts he would send stopped too. Soon, you were truly left with just a memory of him.

You should be glad.

You should be relieved he stopped because each time you saw him, you had the temptation to actually listen to him. To hear his side because you don’t want to believe he had said those things in his apartment. However, that will never happen now. Even if you want it to, you aren’t going to crawl back to him after all this time.

The picture you had taken of both of you is still in your photo gallery. You deleted it when you accidentally stumbled upon it a few days after the fight. Pained at even the sight of him, your finger had hit the trash icon quickly. Despite that, you ended up recovering the photo a few hours later because part of you wasn’t ready to erase him from your life completely.

The words your dad said linger in your mind.

I’m sure he meant a lot to you.

Had he?

In the few months you got to know him, had he really made himself a home in your heart? Perhaps if you say no, you will stop feeling like there is a void in your chest.

The weeks went by quickly. It wasn’t like in the movies or books where the heartbroken character felt their life was moving in slow motion. First, you weren’t heartbroken. Second, you had so much to do regarding your project you didn’t have time to think about him.

A part of your mind told you that working nonstop was your way of coping, but coping with what? What you lost wasn’t meaningful…

He wasn’t meaningful.

Yet as you let that thought roll around your mind, the more your chest feels heavy. The more your vision becomes blurry. The more your body feels weak.

The more you feel suffocated.

Suffocated by the thoughts gripping you and trying to shake you into realization.

Seungcheol had meant something to you. The extent is unknown, but if you were to ever tell someone how much your heart was aching, they would probably say he meant a great deal to you. Though if you allow yourself to agree, it will only cause more pain. So for now, you are fine being in denial.

You close your eyes as you inhale slowly. You hold your breath for a few seconds and then exhale gradually. You repeat this until you start to feel like you can breathe properly.

Images of him appear uninvitingly in the darkness—from when you first opened Jeonghan’s door to see him instead of Minghao then to waking up in his arms while laying in his bed.

It shouldn’t have come to this point. He wasn’t even helping with your project, yet you felt as if you saw him more than anyone else volunteering.

In the recesses of your mind, you can feel his gentle touch on your skin. You recall the moments you had together, but more strongly, you remember the way you felt when you were around him. Your chest would tighten any time he smiled or laughed. Such simple actions had you feeling so joyful. Even more so if you were the reason behind the actions.

Then you think back to his apartment—before that phone call with Dae. The way you both held each other so tenderly during such an intimate moment. It had you feeling a sort of love you haven’t felt before. You think back to how content you were waking up in his arms. The glimpse of what your life could be like if you were his in his home.

You don’t know how you got here. You don’t know when you started falling for him. You don’t know when the tears started to roll down your cheeks. For the first time since the argument, you let your emotions flow freely.

You can’t believe you’re wasting tears over a guy you met this semester. Though, maybe you're just crying over the fact you no longer feel those feelings anymore. The feeling of being cared for, thought of, loved… Even if neither of you had said that word to the other, it doesn’t take away the feeling of being cherished. Maybe you don’t feel in love, but you could see yourself getting to that point if that argument never transpired. Although his words hurt then, they sting ten times worse now.

Your mind is filled to the brim with thoughts of him. It’s taking such a toll on you that you eventually fall asleep reflecting on your relationship with Seungcheol, dried tear streaks painting your cheeks.

“Mingyu, stop playing around,” you scold for the third time.

Mingyu stops dancing, peering down at you to give you another teasing grin. Perhaps you would’ve found it amusing if you weren’t under a time crunch.

“God, what a shit show,” you hear someone giggle behind you.

You dismiss the voice, knowing it’s probably Tori or Siwon. You only have a limited time to do your dress rehearsal before it’s another student’s turn.

“Worry about your own show, ladies,” Mingyu says above you, voice so stern it has you looking at him a little surprised.

“You never know when something bad might happen during your section in the show,” Jeonghan adds. Although his responsibility for the show is already done, he whined to join you today. Something about being bored and needing something to do. You had said no, but you couldn’t really stop him from following you to the theatre.

You turn around to see Tori and Siwon. They have their bags on their arms, ready to leave since they finished their rehearsals before you.

“Is that a threat?” Siwon gasps.

Jeonghan smiles that not-so-innocent grin and shrugs. “No, but it’s just a general comment. Anything can happen.”

Tori scoffs and then looks at you. “If I find out you’re tampering with other students’ projects, I’m going to tell Dr. Lim so you’ll flunk.”

“As if I need to sabotage your stage,” you reply. “You’ll do that yourself.”

“Oooh,” Jeonghan chuckles, bringing a hand to his mouth for dramatic effect. You shake your head at his reaction, but there is a tiny part of you where you’re pleased.

“You better watch yourself, Yn,” Tori warns.

You smile. “Oh, I will. After all, why would I watch your shit show?”

“You’re—”

“Tori, Siwon, please let Yn get back to her work. Yn, you should be focusing on your fittings and makeup. Not talking,” Dr. Lim instructs as he walks into the backstage room.

Tori and Siwon quickly apologize before they hurry out.

“Yn,” Dr. Lim calls to get your attention. You tear your gaze from your two peers to look at him.

“I heard you, Dr. Lim. I’ll be done before my time ends,” you say.

He gives you a tight-lipped smile before leaving you.

“Sorry,” Mingyu mumbles once they all leave. You exhale gradually and gesture for him to lean down.

“It’s fine, Gyu,” you answer. You quickly fix his hair, then turn him around to show one of the students you selected to help with hair and makeup. “Like this, okay?”

The student nods, taking notes and pictures as they observe the simple style. You want the focus to be on the clothes rather than fancy hair-dos.

You attend to your other models and stylists, making sure the clothes fit well and that the stylists understand what you want them all to look like. You had met with Seokmin earlier to go over the music. It’s pretty simplistic since it’s just one track, but you still want to make sure things go smoothly from all aspects.

Luckily, you finish within your time slot. Mingyu and Jeonghan trail behind you as you exit the building, talking amongst themselves. You figure they’ll go their separate ways once you are done, but nope. You act as if it bothers you, but you kinda like the company. You’ve been so focused on finishing the project that you haven’t had the chance to hang out with many people. If you did, it was only to discuss the final details.

Now that the show is around the corner, you let yourself breathe for a little.

“I don’t need you to pay for me,” you tell Jeonghan when it’s your turn to purchase your drink at the register.

“Think of it as a thank you for letting me tag along today,” he answers and starts to lower his card to the payment device. However, you quickly snatch it from his grip.

“Aye,” he drags out in a whine.

“I said n—”

“Done,” Mingyu cuts in. Your eyes flicker to him, then down at his hand. He just paid for your drink. He gives you a cheeky grin before ordering for Jeonghan and himself.

“Kim Mingyu, you’re a little shi—”

“Shining star,” he finishes for you as he pays for his order. He guides you and Jeonghan from the line to the end counter as you wait for your orders. His mouth is spread into a wide, confident smile.

Jeonghan laughs at Mingyu’s answer, but you simply glower at the taller man.

“Come on, that was good,” Mingyu pouts when you don’t say anything. He gives your shoulder a poke, trying to get you to agree.

“I’m going to the bathroom,” you announce instead, walking away before either of them can answer.

After you’re done, you walk out with your phone in hand to check on Dae who has her rehearsal after you.

You are typing your message when you hear something fall to the floor. Glancing down, you notice a stray pen.

“Think you can pick that up for me, princess?” a familiar voice asks.

You’ve heard the intolerable voice enough times to know who it is without looking up. Regardless, your eyes lift to see Hajun.

You notice a change in her appearance. Her outfit is less boring than it normally is. You think she has dressed up for a class assignment, but the attire isn’t professional-like. After all the shit she’s given you for dressing “over the top,” she sure is heading down the same path.

You grit your teeth in order to stop the snide remark you want to make.

“Well?” she prompts smugly.

Two options run through your head. The first option is to stomp on the pen with your heel until you hear a satisfying crunch from breaking it. The second is to slam the pen down in her open palm—tip facing downward.

Instead, you chose the safer option. You step over the object and continue your way back to your friends; your text to Dae forgotten.

“Can’t even help a person out by doing a simple task?” Hajun asks. You pause in your steps to look over your shoulder.

“You’re a big girl and fully capable. I’m sure you can solve your own problem,” you reply.

“Bitch,” she mutters under her breath, but it’s loud enough for you to hear. As if that word is meant to make you cry.

Turning around again, you say, “Ditto.”

It isn’t anything rude, but you’re done dealing with her. Nothing is ever going to change, and there is no reason for you to put up with her bullshit.

“That’s why he left you,” she calls out after a few steps. You hear her footsteps near slowly as yours still once more. You know she just wants your attention, but you can’t help but give it to her.

“He realized you were nothing but a slut who needed something between her legs to be satisfied.”

You stay silent for once as you listen to her words. You don’t need to hear his name to know who “he” is. Your gaze lowers as she stands behind you. Your heart rate is increasing as a mix of emotions courses through you, somewhere between fury and sorrow.

“Is he just one more check mark off your list?” she wonders. “He told us about how pathetic you were at his place. He said he needed a way to get you to leave him alone.”

“Are you sure he didn’t say that about you?” you ask and finally, turn to look at her. Despite your words, she smiles at you cunningly.

Ignoring your question, she continues with her high-horse speech.

“It’s a shame you had him so wrapped around your finger. I told him you weren’t worth it,” she tsks sadly.

You’re not sure why you stand there as she belittles you. Maybe in some sick way, you want to hear every bad thing she has to say about you. Let her get everything off her chest while she can. Not that you need to give her that opportunity. She doesn’t deserve an ego lift.

“I was right, though. He said you were one of the worst fucks he’s ever had,” she giggles. “Truly not worth the chase you were giving. I’m sure everyone you’ve had sex with feels the same. Eventually, they’ll stop chasing someone so worthless.”

The sorrow you felt earlier is overcome by anger. It doesn’t help that she’s staring at you with a Cheshire cat smile that makes you want to slap it off her face. Your hands fist at your sides at the thought. However, before the temptation takes over fully, someone calls your name.

Jeonghan stands at the end of the hall, a drink in each of his hands.

You glance back to Hajun.

She simply shrugs, not bothered by being interrupted. You doubt that’s all she has to say, but for now, it will do. She had gotten under your skin. You should have walked away.

“He’ll stop chasing you soon, too,” she tells you quietly before moving around you and toward Jeonghan.

“Hi Hannie!” she greets cheerfully. You watch as he smiles at her and tells her hello.

Unfortunately, the hallway to the bathrooms is a dead end, and the only way to leave is past Jeonghan and Hajun.

“Is she okay? What’s taking so long?” Mingyu questions as he rounds the corner. Following closely behind him is Seungcheol.

Seeing him should be like seeing a poster on the wall—one glance and move on. Yet, your gaze catches his, and your heart starts to break away from the bandaids you placed on it. Scattered memories of the argument flash before your eyes, yet between those snip-bits are memories of you in his soothing embrace. You can’t help but yearn to feel that one more time.

Besides looking tired, he seems fine. He must have known you were here since he didn’t seem surprised to see you. That, or he simply doesn’t care. The latter is difficult to bear.

Your feet want to move. You want to run and escape the situation you’re put in, but you can’t leave. You just need them to go so you don't have to walk past them.

“Hey,” Jeonghan calls out gently as he takes a few steps forward. He hands the drinks to Mingyu, who has to juggle a little to hold them, before walking toward you.

He gently moves your face so you aren’t looking at Seungcheol anymore.

“Did something happen?” he asks lowly so no one can hear.

“I just need to get out of here,” you mumble, casting your eyes down from his worried one.

“Okay,” he says unhesitantly. “Let’s go then.”

He hooks his arm in yours and starts walking toward the end of the hallway, forcing you to follow him.

“What about your drinks?” Mingyu asks when you both walk past and in the direction of the exit.

“Keep them,” Jeonghan replies, slowing his steps but never stopping fully. You keep your gaze away as he answers. “You paid for them anyway.”

“But—”

“We’ll take them. Here, Cheollie,” you hear Hajun say as you leave.

The air outside feels heavenly.

You inhale deeply, letting yourself breathe after feeling like you couldn’t for the longest time. You’re not sure what you’re more affected by—hearing what Seungcheol had said about you or seeing him for the first time in a long time.

You should let her words flow from one ear and out the other, but some things she said already planted themselves in your mind. And of course, you water those seeds until they sprout to consume your thoughts.

Were you not worth it to Seungcheol to fight harder for you? Not just after the argument but before. His lack of loyalty to you was always an issue with him. You didn’t care if he had a project with Hajun and the others. You didn’t care if he knew them for longer. You were tired of not being his first. You had always split that position with Hajun. At least that’s what you felt. Maybe he kept her around for reasons he didn’t disclose. Even then, how much did she mean to him?

Loud footsteps sound behind you quickly. Before you can fully turn back to see who or what is emitting the noise, a hand is on the arm Jeonghan isn’t holding.

“Yn,” Seungcheol rasps, eyes wide and pleading.

Jeonghan stops in his tracks as he flickers his gaze between you both.

“Maybe another time, Seungcheol,” he says gently, so as to not offend him.

“Let’s let her decide that,” Seungcheol responds, his jaw clenching slightly as he gives a warning glare in his direction. You don’t like the expression he gives Jeonghan.

Even though his hand awakens sleeping butterflies in your stomach, you move it from you—catching his attention. His firm features immediately soften.

“Can we talk?” he asks.

You want to say yes, but after hearing Hajun’s words from earlier, you’re not sure if you want to anymore. He’s allowed to speak to his friends about whatever he wants, but you had hoped he would’ve done so respectfully.

“Depends,” you answer. “Are you going to go twist my words to your friends?”

His eyebrows push together. “What are you talking about? I wouldn’t do that.”

“And I wouldn’t use a needle to sew,” you reply sarcastically.

“Seriously, Cherry. Let’s go somewhere private and talk. Please?” he says, eyes glancing up at Jeonghan who still stands next to you.

Hearing that nickname after so long makes your brain short-circuit. You’re a little surprised that he used it since you aren’t on speaking terms. Nicknames are normally reserved for friends… Does he think you’re still friends with him? That’d be sad if he did considering how he treated you before.

“I’ve heard everything I needed to hear,” you argue.

“No, you haven’t,” he sighs. His eyes move to see Mingyu and Hajun leaving the building. It’s not going to be long until they catch up.

“Do you plan to whisper sweet nothings in my ear until I forgive you?” you question with venom.

“No, I—”

“One day, you’ll see my clothes in a shopping window and think, ‘Wow. How did I ever sleep with someone so out of my league?’” you hiss out, narrow eyes locking on his.

“Instead of your clothes, he’ll see a used napkin in the wind and think, ‘Wow. I should’ve pushed her out of my life sooner,’” you hear Hajun's voice before you can see her.

Seeing Hajun next to Seungcheol reminds you of all the problems you have with him. Even though you did miss him, you don’t miss this—feeling like you are getting ganged up on while Seungcheol stands there and does nothi—

“Be quiet, Hajun,” Seungcheol snaps. “I’m tired of you getting in my business.”

His aggressive tone takes everyone by surprise.

You never heard him like this; not to you, not to anyone. It’s a whole new Seungcheol you have yet to discover. One you don’t want to be on the receiving end of. You can only imagine how Hajun is feeling.

“W-what? But I’m only trying to help,” she sputters, trying not to look as startled as she probably feels. It seems it’s her first time seeing this Seungcheol, too.

“Did I ever ask for your help? For fuck’s sake, just stop bothering Yn.”

Hajun’s eyes widen like saucers, mouth opening slightly at his words. You watch the scene before you. Your expression is probably the same as Hajun’s.

She looks at you, shock turning into irritation.

“You said something to him, didn’t you?” she accuses. That pulls you from your surprised daze.

Rolling your eyes, you answer with a forced smile, “Ah, yes, I bewitched him so he’d tell you to fuck off. Isn’t that right, Cheollie?”

You glance up at him when using the nickname, eyelashes batting obnoxiously.

“Cherry,” Seungcheol scolds lightly with a groan, hand coming up to rub at his temples.

“Who the hell is Cherry?” Hajun questions, miffed.

“What did I say, Hajun?” Seungcheol responds instead. “Stop talking shit about Yn. Stop trying to fight her.”

Hajun scoffs. “If anything, she’s trying to fight me!”

“And I’ll win, too,” you comment under your breath, causing Jeonghan to yank on your arm slightly with a shake of his head. You forgot he’s here.

“What did you just say, bitch?” Hajun asks you. You open your mouth to repeat what you said, but Seungcheol’s voice interrupts you.

“Leave, Hajun,” he says and stares at her. Even though it isn’t directed at you, you can tell how intimidating it is.

“You’re really going to let her control you, Seungcheol?!” she exasperates, almost desperately.

“Now,” he demands.

Hajun’s mouth opens again, but nothing comes out. She glances at Mingyu and Jeonghan as if they will say something; however, neither of them does. With one last look at Seungcheol, she spins on her heels and walks away.

You all watch her for a few seconds. The awkward silence is starting to make you feel uncomfortable.

“She could’ve at least taken the drinks,” Mingyu says, trying to break the tense atmosphere. You peer at him to see he has all the drinks again.

Seungcheol disregards him to speak to you. His voice has lost that firmness to it. “Yn, just five minutes.”

You still want to say no, yet, this is your chance to listen to him without having to appear desperate for closure. Perhaps you can finally get him out of your mind if you agree.

“Fine,” you yield and glance at Jeonghan.

“I’ll wait here with Mingyu,” he informs. You would have told him it was fine, but after rejecting Dae’s offer to pick you up at Seungcheol’s that day, you want to have someone to turn to in case this conversation ends like the last.

“Thanks,” you mumble.

Seungcheol guides you both to sit on a bench nearby. You sit on opposite ends with your hands in your lap.

“I’m sorry” is the first thing he says as you get settled. He tucks his hands in his hoodie’s pocket, reminding you you still have to return the one you have someday.

His back leans against the bench while he shifts his eyes on you. “I’m sorry for the awful things I said. I don’t think you’ve slept with everyone on campus, and I don’t agree with what Hajun and Hana have said about you.”

You rub your lips together, staring at him at first but then averting. The events of that day come to the forefront of your mind. Though they’ve never been far from it to begin with. You wonder if you overreacted at the time, but you’re so emotionally involved with him it’s hard to tell. No doubt his words stung; especially after engaging in such vulnerable moments with him and slipping into that fantasy life you had created for the both of you. All for it all to evaporate with what? A so-called joke?

“You don’t have to forgive me right now, or ever, but I would still like to talk to you… to try to get back to where we were before I fucked up,” he continues when you remain quiet.

Your first response in your head is no, that won’t be possible. You just want to move on. But that answer spurs from having your defensive walls around you. What if you get close like before, only for something else to tear you apart?

Sighing, you begin playing with the end of your clothes.

“What did you tell Hajun?” you ask in lieu of answering his silent question.

Seungcheol tilts his head at the sudden topic change. “I told her to leave you alone.”

“No,” you shake your head and look at him. “What did you tell her after that day?”

He’s silent for a moment as he digs around his thoughts for an answer.

“I didn’t tell her anything. She just asked where you were,” he replies.

The look on your face conveys your disbelief.

“You didn’t tell her we had sex?” you asked.

“W-what? No. There was no reason to,” he says. You can see the shock on his face from your question.

“Then how does she know?”

“Does she?” he asks.

“Yes.”

Seungcheol ponders on the information. “Well, she did ask as a joke, but I didn’t tell her we did,” he answers.

You take a deep breath. Another joke, huh?

“Did you tell her we didn’t then?” you wonder.

He shakes his head.

“Seungcheol,” you scold while bringing a hand to your temples.

He pouts, scooting closer to lower your arm. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think she’d figure it out. It wasn’t her business to know.”

“No, it wasn’t,” you concur sadly. The warmth of his hand spreads up your arm, bringing back a sense of familiarity that makes you want more but also want to pull away in fear of losing it again.

“What else did she s—”

The sound of your phone going off startles you both.

You pull away to grab it. Seoah’s name appears at the top.

“One second,” you murmur before answering and turning away.

“Yeah?” you greet.

“Are you almost home?” Seoah asks.

“No, did you need something?”

She releases a loud sigh on the other end. “Yeah. Dad’s cake. You’re going to be late.”

Shit.

You completely forgot about your father’s surprise birthday party. Seoah invited a few of his co-workers over to celebrate, and you’re supposed to pick up the cake on the way home from rehearsal. It’s going to be the first time in a while since you do anything big like this. Normally, his birthday consists of only you and Seoah singing him a happy birthday with a present.

“I’m so sorry. Look, just start without it,” you say and begin to stand. Seungcheol follows you, waiting patiently as you stay on the call.

You pull the device from your ear despite Seoah talking.

“I have to go,” you inform.

Seungcheol’s lips dip in a frown, but it quickly disappears. “Can we meet this weekend so we can talk more?”

“I can’t. I have the—”

“The show. I know,” he pauses. “I’ll be there.”

The phone call is forgotten instantly at his words. He’ll be at the show? The show you’ve been working on? You figured that would be the last place he’d be.

“Y-you will?” you stutter.

Seungcheol smiles, but it isn’t anywhere near his eyes. “We can talk the next day. I figure you’ll be busy after.”

“I-Uh… Yeah,” you reply, not sure what to say. You want to ask why and when he got the tickets. You want to know if he is being forced to go or if it’s a decision he made all on his own. Though, none of those questions come out.

“Are you even listening to me?” Seoah’s voice is loud. “Who are you with? Is it Jeonghan? Tell him to go away, so you can grab the cake.”

Seungcheol glances at the phone in your hand. His face morphs into something you can’t read, though you catch the way his jaw clenches briefly. You’re not sure if it’s because he recognizes Seoah’s voice or if it’s something she said. Regardless, you ignore it and change your focus to your sister.

“I’m on the way now, relax. You’re not cutting it at the start anyway,” you reason. “I’ll see you in a bit.”

You hang up the call before you can hear more of her complaining.

“Sorry,” you apologize as you look at Seungcheol again. He seems lost in his thoughts. It’s odd to see him this way since you feel you’re usually the one in his position.

You take a few seconds to scan his face properly. Even with his slightly visible eye bags, you find him handsome. Your fingers twitch with the desire to touch him, to feel his warm body against yours and see that smile that has you smiling back.

“Seungcheol?” you ask softly when you realize neither of you has spoken.

His eyes snap to yours. “Right,” he clears his throat. “So, the next day?”

“Okay,” you agree before you can overthink the decision. You know you need to resolve the issue in order to continue with your life—whether it’s one with him in it or not.

“We can go to that café? I can pick you up,” he offers.

Having been used to him driving around, you almost say yes, but you learned your lesson of not having your own transportation.

“It’s fine. I’ll meet you there,” you reply.

“Alright,” he says slowly, allowing you time to change your mind. When he senses that isn’t going to happen, he adds, “I’ll see you this weekend.”

“See you,” you say, gaze lingering on his for a little too long before you tear yourself away.

You find Jeonghan with Mingyu a couple of feet away. They both look up when they hear you near.

“All good?” Jeonghan wonders.

You shrug. “For now, I guess. Thanks for waiting.”

Jeonghan stands, a drink in his hand. Mingyu still has the third.

“Anytime. Do you still want that?” Jeonghan asks as he gestures to the third drink. You glance at it, shaking your head. You don’t know if it’s contaminated.

“No one’s drunk out of it,” Mingyu reassures; however, you still shake your head.

“Thanks, though. I’ll pay you back for it,” you say.

Mingyu smiles. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Still want some company to your car?” Jeonghan questions.

“That’d be nice,” you smile slightly. Jeonghan nods. After you both say goodbye to Mingyu, you lead Jeonghan in the direction of your parked car.

You haven't seen Seungcheol’s face in weeks. While seeing him again is difficult, it feels like you can breathe again. The temptation to glance back at him is strong. You want to see him again.

And so you do.

Only to find his eyes already locked on you.

Something about his look captivates your attention. His expression isn’t settled in a set emotion; it ranges from longing to worry to hope. Jeonghan guides you down the sidewalk, talking about something you don’t know. It’s not until you turn a corner that you’re forced to break your gaze due to a building obstructing your view.

You’re anxious about this weekend and unsure how your life will change. The fashion show is a big deal for you, but so is Seungcheol. It’s nerve-wracking to not know how everything will end.

previous chapter \\ pretty please masterpost // next chapter

A/N: Next chapter will be the last one in the series! Ahhhhhvfjsnbfgkvkd

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