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notseospicy · 13 hours

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NATIONAL ANTHEM.

Seungmin x reader. (f,a) SFW

Synopsis: At first, you knew Seungmin as the guy you made out with on a flight home but once the plane landed, you discovered that he's the son of your father's rival candidate for the upcoming election, causing you to be caught between love and loyalty. (10,9k words)

Some people might call it fate, serendipity, or kismet, but you're not the type to believe in romantic clichés like that, so let's just call it a coincidence.

It's merely a coincidence that the car got a flat tire on the way to the airport, causing you to miss the flight you were supposed to be on. Otherwise, you would have been sitting in seat 4B on a completely different plane next to a completely different passenger in seat 4A.

As you make your way to your seat, you notice him immediately. A young man sitting in the window seat next to yours, he possesses a rare, gentlemanly beauty. With refined features, a charming smile, and tousled dark hair, he exudes a sophisticated appeal. In other words, he’s the kind of guy who instantly catches your eye.

He glances up as you stow your bag in the overhead compartment, offering a polite nod. You take your seat next to him, trying to keep your cool even though your heart skips a beat.

There’s something about him that draws you in, something magnetic—a quiet confidence that doesn’t need to be loud or showy to be felt.

After you settle in and the plane takes off, you feel the urge to talk to him. You're usually not the type to strike up conversations with strangers, but for some reason, with him, you can't help it. Also, you realize that if you want something to happen, you have to start somewhere.

“Is this your first time flying out of here?” you ask, turning to him with a smile.

He looks at you, his lips curving into a small smile. “No, I’ve been here before, but it’s been a while," he answers, his voice smooth and calm, making something flutter in your chest.

You introduce yourself to break the ice and make interacting easier.

"Seungmin," he says, taking your hand and holding it for a moment as he introduces himself. "Traveling alone?"

"Yes," you answer innocently.

"Business or pleasure?" he asks, a playful glint in his warm brown eyes.

You stare into his eyes and faintly bite your lower lip before answering, "Hopefully, pleasure."

From there, the conversation flows effortlessly. You talk about everything—from favorite travel destinations to the books you're reading. Something about Seungmin makes it feel so natural, and before you know it, two hours have passed in the blink of an eye.

“I can’t believe we’ve been talking for hours,” you say with a low laugh, glancing out the window at the darkened sky.

The Atlantic stretches endlessly below, and the flight attendants have dimmed the cabin lights, casting a soft, intimate glow over the rows of seats.

“Time flies when the company’s good,” he says, his eyes lingering on you in a way that makes your heart race.

The space between you feels charged now, the conversation slowing as the connection deepens into something more. You can feel the pull—the undeniable attraction that’s been simmering since you sat down. Then you catch him glancing at your lips, and you know he feels it too.

Daringly, you lean in slightly, testing the waters, and he responds by shifting closer. The air between you is electric, and when his hand brushes yours, a spark shoots through you.

Both of you hesitate for a moment, caught in that intoxicating space where everything hangs in the balance until neither of you can resist any longer.

Your lips meet in a soft, tentative kiss, and the world outside the window seems to fall away. His kiss is gentle at first, cautious, testing, but when you respond, he takes it as permission to deepen it. He rests his hand on your cheek, and warmth spreads through you as his lips move against yours in a slow, intoxicating rhythm, making you forget you’re on a plane surrounded by strangers.

For those few moments, it's just you and him, lost in each other, the quiet hum of the plane fading into the background.

When you finally pull apart, breathless and dazed, you exchange a look that says everything. This isn't just some fleeting attraction. There’s something real here, something undeniable.

However, once the plane touches down and the cabin lights flicker back to life, reality begins to creep in. It's the altitude, the change in air, and the fact that you now have both feet on the ground. The intimacy of your shared moments with Seungmin starts to fade as you both prepare to disembark.

Everyone stands from their seats to gather their things, and you can feel Seungmin watching as you reach for your bag in the overhead compartment.

"So…" Seungmin begins as you both shuffle out of the row and into the aisle. "Can I get your number? Or at least, a last name?"

Your heart is still fluttering from the kiss you shared just hours ago, but you hesitate. There’s an inexplicable tug in your gut telling you not to give in so easily, to be cautious. You like him—really like him—but you're not going to make it that easy.

You flash him a playful smile. “Hmm... I’m not sure I should make it that easy for you,” you tease, shifting your bag onto your shoulder.

Seungmin raises an eyebrow, his lips curling into a half-smile. “You’re going to make me work for it?”

You nonchalantly shrug, trying to keep things light despite your racing heart. “Let’s just say I like a challenge.”

As you walk together through the terminal, the chemistry between you still crackling, you step outside and notice a car waiting at the curb. The driver, standing beside it, is holding a sign with Seungmin’s name. At first, nothing seems out of the ordinary, until you notice his jacket. The driver is wearing a dark blazer, but pinned to it is a familiar emblem—the logo of a political campaign.

Not just any campaign. It's your father’s rival’s campaign.

Your smile falters as you look more closely, and your heart drops when something clicks. You turn to Seungmin, your mind racing.

“Is that your driver?” your voice comes out sharper than you intended.

Seungmin follows your gaze, looking a bit confused. “Yeah. Why?”

Your throat suddenly feels dry. You clear it before asking the big question. “Are you from the Kim family? The same Kim family running for governor?”

"Yes," Seungmin answers, clearly puzzled.

The Kim family. The Kim family. Your father’s bitter rival in the upcoming election. This isn’t just some random guy you met on a plane—he's the son of the man your father has been railing against for weeks. You feel the blood drain from your face as the realization crashes down.

Seungmin’s expression shifts from confusion to concern. “What’s wrong?”

You unconsciously take a step back. "You’re... you’re a Kim," you say, still in disbelief.

Seungmin opens his mouth to respond, but you cut him off. "Your father and mine—they’re both running for governor."

For a moment, Seungmin seems to be processing what you’ve said. Then his face hardens slightly in understanding. You take another step back, the weight of everything pressing down on you.

“This changes everything,” you whisper.

He looks at you, his eyes searching. “No, it doesn’t have to," he says.

If only he knew how badly you wanted to believe him. But you can’t ignore the reality of the situation. Both of your families are in a brutal political war, and no matter how much you like him, getting involved with Seungmin could blow everything up—for both of you.

"How is it not? Your father accused mine of siphoning money from the city’s budget for his campaign."

"Because he did!" Seungmin says boldly.

"There’s no concrete proof!" you counter.

"Of course, because they know how to make things disappear. Your family is known for their generosity with hush money," he remarks bluntly.

You’ve never been one to argue about things that aren’t your business, but when it comes to your family, you naturally defend them.

"As opposed to your father’s blatant hypocrisy," you calmly reply. "He’s fighting the climate crisis, but his wife keeps taking private jets for her shopping trips."

You come up with a concrete data point. "According to the data, those trips contributed 58 metric tons of carbon—the same amount emitted by 4,625 cars in a day."

That seems to shut him up. His jaw clenches, and it's unfair how good he looks when he's mad.

The driver awkwardly clears his throat, glancing between you both. “Sir, we should get going. Your father’s waiting.”

"It was good to see you," Seungmin says before storming off, childishly bumping your shoulder as he passes.

"Goodbye, I guess," you mutter, scoffing in disbelief as you watch him walk away.

That concludes everything, officially making it an unpleasant coincidence.

It was just a coincidence!

That's what Seungmin has been telling himself after spending days wrestling with his feelings, convincing himself that it doesn’t matter, that you are just a fleeting moment, a passing fancy. But the truth is undeniable: no matter how much he tries to push you out of his mind, he just can’t stop thinking about you.

When his friend mentioned that you’re living separately from your family, something shifted inside him. The tension between your families has always been an obstacle, a reason to stay away, but now it seems more like an excuse. If anything, the fact that you aren’t on good terms with your family only deepens his curiosity—and somehow, his feelings.

Seungmin hadn’t planned to find your hotel room, but once he knew where you were staying, he couldn’t help himself. And now, as he stands there, waiting for you to open the door, his heart races in anticipation despite the cool facade he tries to maintain.

After a moment, the door creaks open, and there you are—your hair slightly tousled, your expression showing slight shock to see him there. His heart leaps at the sight of you, but instead of the warmth or excitement he hoped to see, your face remains cold, indifferent.

“Are you stalking me?” your voice is cool, a little too casual, as if you haven’t been thinking about him at all.

There's no going back now, so Seungmin pushes forward. "Well, you're not that hard to track."

You lean against the doorframe, crossing your arms in front of you defensively. “You shouldn’t be here,” you say flatly.

Seungmin notices the flicker in your eyes, something you’re trying to hide. He takes a small step closer, his gaze softening, and playfully says, “Maybe."

You stare at him for a moment, your expression hard, but he sees the hesitation in the way your fingers grip the edge of the door. You’re fighting something, trying to keep a wall between the two of you. He understands why you keep your guard up so high—you’re trying to protect yourself, your heart, and maybe even protect him from the mess that is your life right now.

“You shouldn’t be... with me,” you make it even clearer, but even as you say the words, your voice wavers.

Seungmin takes another step forward, placing his hand near where yours rests. “Let me in, and we'll find out."

Your eyes soften for a brief moment before you quickly look away, the conflict clear in your expression. It’s obvious that you want to shut the door, to push him away, but something is holding you back. Maybe it's the same thing that brought him here in the first place—the connection, the spark between you that refuses to be ignored.

The conflict in your eyes only encourages Seungmin. He leans against the doorframe, his eyes never leaving yours. "Why are you staying in a hotel anyway?" he asks, his voice casual but tinged with curiosity.

You remain aloof, folding your arms across your chest as you raise an eyebrow. “Why should I let my enemy know?"

The coldness in your tone is deliberate, a shield to guard against him, against what you’re really feeling. But he doesn’t back down; his smirk only grows wider.

His hand inches closer to yours as he leans in just a bit closer, making his presence suddenly more overwhelming.

“See, that’s the thing..." his voice drops lower, with a teasing edge.

“What?” you ask, trying to keep your cool even though the proximity makes your heart race.

“We’re enemies,” he states the obvious, his gaze locking onto yours with such intensity that it sends a shiver down your spine.

You let out a sigh, already prepared for whatever line he’s about to throw at you. “And what’s your point?”

Seungmin’s smirk deepens as he leans in even closer, his face now mere inches away from yours. His voice is low and soft, almost a whisper, but filled with mischief.

“Sleeping with the enemy is hot.”

Your breath hitches slightly, but you keep your expression in check, refusing to let him see just how much his words affect you. You tilt your head a little to the side, raising an eyebrow, but the corner of your mouth betrays you with the slightest hint of a smile.

“Is that so?” you respond with a daring smirk.

Seungmin lets out a low chuckle, his eyes flickering with something dangerous and alluring, like he knows exactly how this game is going to end.

As you stand there weighing your options, the tension between you and him becomes unbearable. You can feel the electricity crackling in the air, and despite everything, you find yourself taking a step back, opening the door wider without saying a word.

Seungmin’s triumphant smile tells you that he understands your silent invitation. Without wasting another second, he steps inside, the door closing softly behind him as the world outside fades away.

Before you can even catch your breath, he’s on you—his lips crash against yours with a force that makes you dizzy. The kiss is urgent, an explosion of passion and frustration that has been building between you and him for so long.

His hands grip your waist, pulling you closer as if the mere touch of your skin isn’t enough to satisfy the hunger between you.

All the walls you’ve built, all the reasons you shouldn’t be doing this, crumble in an instant. It doesn’t matter that he’s your enemy. Right now, all that matters is the way his lips brush against yours, the way his breath mingles with yours, the way your hearts seem to beat in sync.

In that moment, nothing else exists but the two of you.

It’s Seungmin’s third time staying over in your hotel room this week alone, and no, you're not complaining at all. You've already grown accustomed to him—Seungmin is part of your routine now, part of your life, and his absence leaves you feeling restless.

When you're not with him, you recall what he’s done to you: the way he kissed you, caressed you, all the things he's said. Your hand unconsciously flies down to your thigh, wishing he was touching you right now.

But don’t get it wrong—the non-bedroom side of Seungmin appeals to you just as much as the lover side, if not more. He makes you laugh, and he listens to you, even when what you talk about isn’t particularly interesting. He’s comfortable around you, and that makes you comfortable around him. You like how he fills the empty space in the bed, and you also like just lying with him in a comfortable silence that doesn’t beg for questions.

However, tonight is an exception.

As you lie on the bed with Seungmin, still recovering from the passionate lovemaking you shared earlier, you feel the weight of reality slowly creeping back in. The silence between you isn’t uncomfortable, but it feels heavy, as if there are things that need to be said.

You roll over slightly to face him and place your hand on his arm, fingers gently tracing the veins coiling down his inner arm. “I need to tell you something,” you murmur.

Seungmin turns his head to look at you, his gaze soft but curious. “What is it?”

You inhale deeply as you gather your thoughts, looking into his eyes as you begin with the one thing you're sure of.

“I really like you, Seungmin.”

“I know,” he says confidently, one corner of his mouth curling into a half-smirk.

You bring your hand up to cup his chin, gently scratching his jaw with your fingertips as you flash him a soft smile and continue speaking.

“What you don’t know is that my family isn’t speaking to me right now, and that’s something I’d like to change.”

“I didn’t know. I’m sorry,” he says earnestly, softly caressing your cheek.

“My family used to control me—I’m sure you know what that’s like. I rebelled, took off, and a year into it, I found out my younger sister was going through something, and I wasn’t there for her because I was trying to prove some... stupid point,” you explain with a dry chuckle.

His gaze remains steady as he listens to you without interrupting.

“I’m just trying to find my way back in, and I happened to bump into you along the way.”

“And I’m glad you did,” he says, catching your other hand in his and resting it on his chest.

You hold his chin, wanting all of his attention focused on you, because what you're about to say is the most important part of this conversation.

“Being seen with you would send the wrong message, and I really can’t risk making my family more upset right now.”

Seungmin’s eyes soften, and without the slightest hesitation, he nods in agreement. “I understand,” he says calmly.

“Don’t worry, I’m pretty good at secret relationships,” he adds with a playful smirk. “And all the sneaking around... it’s kind of thrilling. I find it really hot.”

You let out a soft laugh, suddenly feeling at ease. “Of course you do.”

Seungmin pulls you closer, gently brushing a strand of hair away from your face before placing a chaste kiss on your lips.

“We’ll keep it a secret, but I want you to know that it doesn’t change how I feel about you.”

As Seungmin presses a tender kiss to your forehead, you feel the warmth and reassurance sinking in. For now, the secret doesn’t feel like a burden—it feels like a shared world that belongs only to the two of you.

In under a month, Seungmin learned a lot about you.

You live by routine: you get up at the same time every day, shower, and then your breakfast usually consists of a cup of black coffee and French toast. You share a kiss before parting ways, as you get picked up at the entrance of the hotel while Seungmin makes his getaway through the hotel kitchen exit.

During the day, you help your father with his campaign at headquarters, and you're back to your hotel room around 8 or 9 when you have dinner with your family.

As for your evenings, they belong to Seungmin. When the two of you aren’t fooling around like teenagers, you fill the time with late-night snacks, talking about random things, or just cuddling on the bed—things that Seungmin has never experienced with anyone before.

Day by day, he wants more of you, not less.

Tonight, you both decide to pass the time by watching something on pay-per-view. You rest your head against his shoulder while your eyes are on the large screen mounted on the wall. At times, Seungmin places a kiss on you, and it feels good having you near, as if he was made to be your lover.

From time to time, you react to certain scenes in the film, your bare legs shifting beneath the hem of your nightdress.

“Are you wearing underwear?” he jokingly asks into your ear.

You laugh, teasing him with your playful smile. The night continues with soft moments like these—gentle touches, soft kisses, and quiet laughter.

By the time the movie credits roll, you both realize the film played in the background while the two of you were wrapped up in each other. At the end of the night, you climb into bed, nuzzling your head into the crook of his neck, enveloping him with your warmth.

Seungmin brushes stray hair away from your face and trails his fingertips over the smooth curve of your lips before placing a gentle kiss with tenderness mixed with a sense of possessiveness.

“Goodnight,” he mutters softly as he breaks the kiss.

The next morning, he finds you wearing his shirt—the one from the very first night he spent with you. He doesn’t know how to describe the feeling that rushes through him seeing you in his clothes, knowing you kept his shirt and have been wearing it. All he knows is that it feels good.

Truthfully, he’s been feeling like this a lot lately—every time you smile, ask for a kiss, or cross the room just to be near him, but also when the two of you aren’t together. He has spent the past few weeks in a euphoric high, grinning for no other reason than thinking of you.

There’s no doubt about it—Seungmin is stupid in love.

The fundraiser party is in full swing, the lights casting a warm, polished glow over the room as it's buzzing with conversations and the clinking of glasses. You stand beside your father, perfectly poised, playing the part of the dutiful daughter.

This night isn’t about you—it’s about him. Every charming smile, every polite nod you give is an extension of the image he wants to project: a perfect family, a perfect father. But you know the truth.

As you watch your father work the room, shaking hands and making connections, you know your role is to boost his image—not because he cares about you, but because you are part of his political strategy. Still, this is your chance to prove yourself, to show him you can be the daughter he wants, even if the real connection is long gone.

Then, out of the corner of your eye, you see Seungmin and his brother-in-law approaching. Your heart skips a beat, but you hurriedly calm yourself down, knowing this isn’t the time for emotions—it’s the time for control.

Seungmin and his brother-in-law stop in front of you and your father. Seungmin’s gaze briefly meets yours for a second, and despite the public setting, the intensity of that look sends a small thrill through you.

“Good evening,” Seungmin’s brother-in-law says politely and formally. “We’re here representing our father tonight, and he sends his regards.”

Your father, ever the politician, gives a thin, practiced smile. “Ah, yes, it’s unfortunate he couldn’t attend himself. I suppose running a campaign must keep him quite busy.”

There’s a subtle edge to his words, a slight sneer that isn’t lost on you or anyone, but fortunately, Seungmin and his brother-in-law remain composed, not rising to the bait.

“Of course,” Seungmin replies calmly. “He’s doing everything he can for the campaign.”

Your father’s gaze shifts to Seungmin, sizing him up before his eyes narrow in curiosity. "Seungmin, isn’t it? I’ve heard good things about you. You’ve been quite the asset to your father’s campaign, haven’t you?”

“Oh, please. I’m just doing the best I can to help,” Seungmin humbly replies, perfectly nailing the model son role.

“It’s refreshing to see someone so dedicated to their family’s success. We could all learn from that, couldn’t we?” your father says, glancing at you, making it clear that his praise for Seungmin is a thinly veiled comparison.

You keep your composure, your smile unwavering, even as a knot of discomfort forms in your stomach. You entertain yourself with the thought that your father has no idea what is really going on—that the very man he is praising is the one you are secretly seeing. The joke is on him.

“Have you met my daughter?" your father asks, gesturing toward you as if you haven’t been standing there the whole time.

Seungmin turns to you, his expression steady, but his eyes flicker with something only you can recognize. He holds out his hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“Likewise,” you reply, keeping your smile polite. You have to continue acting as if nothing has ever happened between you and him.

Hours pass as you mingle with other guests, but the pressure of keeping up appearances starts to weigh on you. Toward the end of the party, when most of the guests are distracted, you slip away, catching Seungmin’s eye as you do. He follows discreetly, and soon you find yourselves in an isolated part of the building, the muffled sounds of the party still audible.

The moment he comes into sight, you let out a sigh of relief, allowing yourself to drop the mask you’ve worn all night.

"I missed you," he whispers as he steps closer. Before you can respond, he presses his lips to yours, the kiss filled with longing and the tension that has been building up since your last secret meeting.

"I missed you too," you murmur between kisses.

In the dimly lit, secluded hallway, you and Seungmin find a rare moment of peace. His hands cup your face, his lips moving urgently against yours, pouring all the longing and frustration of the past few days into every kiss.

It is reckless, but being with him feels too good to resist. In fact, it feels so good that you almost forget the dark shadow that has been hanging over your mind. Almost.

"My mom found out about us," you blurt out after breaking the kiss.

Seungmin freezes, his lips barely an inch from yours, his brows furrowing as he processes what you’ve just said. "Wait... what?"

“I guess we didn’t fool the doorman,” you say with a heavy sigh as the gravity of the situation sinks in.

For a moment, Seungmin just stands there, panic rising in his chest. If your mom knows, it won’t be long before both of your families find out, and he knows exactly what that would mean for both of you—and for his father’s campaign.

“So... you told her the truth?” he asks, focusing on the possibility that your mom might indirectly support this relationship.

“Obviously, I didn’t want to risk everything with my family for some fling that wasn’t going to last,” you reply meekly.

Seungmin blinks, then his lips curl into a teasing smile. "Oh, so it isn’t just some fling?”

“Seungmin, I’m serious!" you whine in frustration, giving him a playful slap on the chest.

"You can’t keep sneaking into the hotel anymore. It’s too risky, and if my father finds out...” You can’t even finish your sentence without feeling sick to your stomach.

Seungmin’s smile fades as he realizes the danger you are both in. It feels as if the walls are closing in on both sides, and it won’t be long before someone else notices the two of you together. His mind races, trying to think of a solution, somewhere you can be together without the prying eyes of your families.

Just as he opens his mouth to say something, a voice interrupts, and both of you stiffen.

“Seungmin?”

His brother-in-law is standing a few feet away, his eyes narrowing as he glances between the two of you, catching sight of Seungmin’s hand still holding yours.

None of you speak, and in that moment, it feels like the quiet before a storm about to break.

Seungmin’s brother-in-law has always been sharp, and tonight is no exception. As you and Seungmin slipped out of the party, thinking you were being discreet, he spotted the two of you. From the moment you met, he sensed something was already there. He observed further, noticing the sneaky glances, the looks that said more than words, and the way you interacted with each other. He must admit, both of you are poor actors.

When his brother-in-law corners the two of you in the hallway, Seungmin braces himself, expecting him to spill everything to his father immediately, knowing what he could gain from it.

“Why aren’t you saying anything?” Seungmin asks, suspicion creeping in. He knows his brother-in-law has always been loyal to the family, especially to his father, so this calm, nonchalant reaction doesn’t add up.

Instead, his brother-in-law glances between you both with a knowing smile and says, "You two are playing a dangerous game, but you know what? I won’t stand in your way."

That doesn't make Seungmin relax. If anything, the words make him more cautious. "And why’s that? Why are you suddenly on my side?”

“Seungmin, I already think of you like my own brother,” his brother-in-law replies simply, with enough sincerity to convince anyone who hears him. “I want you to be happy."

Seungmin remains quiet for a moment, still wary, but realizing he has little choice. Whatever his brother-in-law’s motives are, this is the only lifeline he has right now.

“So, what’s the plan?” Seungmin finally asks, keeping his voice steady.

“I have a boat. It’s docked not far from here. No one checks it, no one comes by." His brother-in-law reaches into the inner pocket of his jacket and pulls out a small set of keys, handing them to Seungmin. "You two can stay there, alone, as long as you need."

Seungmin’s gaze flicks from the keys to his brother-in-law’s face, still unsure if he can fully trust him. But this is the best option you both have right now. He decides to take a leap of faith and takes the keys from him.

"It's docked on the west side, slip twenty-three," his brother-in-law informs him. Before Seungmin can say anything else, he adds, “Oh, you may want to check the first aid kit on the boat.”

Seungmin’s eyebrows knit in confusion. “What for?”

His brother-in-law puts on a mischievous grin. “Let’s just say you’ll find some essentials in there."

Seungmin’s suspicion deepens, but he doesn’t question it further. Maybe his brother-in-law is being sincere, so Seungmin stops overthinking it. On a more important note, you both need a place to hide, and this is as good as it’s going to get. He glances over at you, and with a silent agreement, you both know you have to take this opportunity, no matter the risks.

“Thanks,” Seungmin mutters, cautious but grateful. “I appreciate it.”

His brother-in-law pats him on the shoulder, giving him a reassuring nod. “Just be careful,” he says.

With that, you and Seungmin slip away into the night, heading toward the boat where, for at least one night, you can finally be alone.

The boat is bigger than you thought it would be, bobbing gently in the moonlit water. As you step onto the deck, you feel a sense of freedom, as if, for once, the outside world can’t reach you. You settle into the small but comfortable space, the tension between you fading into something softer, more tender.

When it’s just the two of you, you can finally let your guard down and be your authentic self. You walk up to him and slip into his arms for a warm embrace.

"It's just you and me now," you say, resting your forehead against him.

"Just you and me," he repeats, gently tilting your head with his hand on your chin, and places the gentlest kiss, treating you like a fragile piece of art.

Seungmin leads you through the cabin, the scent of saltwater and wood lingering in the air, mixing with the faint aroma of the sea breeze drifting in from the open hatch.

“This is nice,” you comment, running your fingers along the edge of a worn leather couch. “But do you think your brother-in-law keeps any food around? I’m starving.”

He lets out a soft chuckle and makes his way to the small kitchenette, opening the fridge with a creak. “Looks like frozen pizza is on the menu,” he says, pulling out the pack and showing it to you.

As Seungmin prepares the frozen pizza and tosses it into the microwave, you head to the bedroom to find something comfortable to wear. In the bathroom, you find a soft bathrobe neatly folded on the top shelf. Without a second thought, you change out of your dress and into the robe. As you tie the belt around your waist, you sigh in relief, feeling a great sense of comfort.

By the time you return, Seungmin is plating the pizza, the smell filling the small cabin. He has also found a bottle of champagne in the cabinet, the label a little worn and the drink lukewarm. Both of you eat in comfortable silence, exchanging small smiles between bites, enjoying this rare moment of normalcy.

When the food is all gone, you lean back in your seat with a contented sigh. The dinner is simple, yet it feels more special than any you’ve had before.

Being the neat person he is, Seungmin wastes no time cleaning up after dinner.

“You can clean up later,” you tell him, sipping your warm champagne.

“There’s not much to clean anyway,” he replies, taking the dirty plates back into the cabin.

Remembering what Seungmin’s brother-in-law said before you left, you decide to go on a little hunt for the first-aid kit he mentioned and see what’s inside. It doesn’t take long to find it tucked away in one of the cabinets in the control room. As you open it, you blink in surprise.

“Well, well…” you murmur, pulling out a small Ziploc bag among the usual bandages and ointments.

Seungmin raises an eyebrow when you bring it over and show him. He shakes his head, already deciding it’s a bad idea.

You shrug, holding the pack out to him with a playful smile. “Why not? Let’s live a little.”

“We shouldn’t even be touching his things,” he says, leaning back on the sun lounger.

“What are you talking about? We’ve just eaten his frozen pizza and drunk his champagne,” you remind him, settling onto his lap.

“I can buy those things back for him,” he replies, folding his hands behind his head.

“But he mentioned it, so that means he’s fine with it, right?”

He shakes his head, eyes closed, unwilling to hear more persuasion.

“Come on,” you urge, taking a rolled blunt out of the bag and rolling it between your fingers. “Just one. It’s a special night, isn’t it?”

He opens his eyes and finds himself unable to resist you when you smile so sweetly. He reaches for the blunt.

“Alright, fine," he gives in, "but just one.”

You light it and take a slow drag, letting the smoke curl lazily into the air before handing it over to him. His fingers brush against yours as he inhales, and you watch as his shoulders visibly relax.

The two of you take turns smoking, the night enveloping you in a peaceful cocoon. The quiet of the water, the gentle sway of the boat, and the faint glow of stars above make everything feel far away, as if the world and its complications couldn’t touch you here.

“I could get used to this,” you softly mutter, your voice barely louder than a whisper as you nuzzle into Seungmin’s side, sharing the sun lounger with him, the blunt hanging loosely between your fingers.

Seungmin exhales long and slow, his arm coming around your shoulders to pull you close. “Yeah, me too.”

The smoke, the sea, and the quiet lull you into a different kind of peace—an escape from everything, if only for tonight.

With one last drag, you finish the rest of the blunt yourself. You rest your head on Seungmin’s shoulder, your hand on his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his breath. For once, you don’t feel like you’re running away from something.

“I wish it could always be like this,” you murmur, more to yourself than to him. “I feel happiest when it’s just us, alone like this.”

Seungmin shifts slightly, his arm tightening around you as if he wants to hold onto this moment forever. He presses a soft kiss to the top of your head, and your heart flutters in response. He doesn’t say anything at first, just holds you closer, and you wonder if he feels the same way—that the world outside seems so distant when it’s just the two of you.

“I feel it too,” he finally says. “When it’s just us… it feels like everything makes sense. Like we’re the only two people in the world that matter.”

His words make your heart ache with a bittersweet warmth. In a moment like this, it’s easy to forget about the chaos waiting for you back home.

Here, it’s just you and him.

You stare at him, your faces merely inches apart. The moonlight casts a soft glow across his features, and God, he’s just so beautiful. His eyes meet yours, and the longer you look into them, the more you see the depth of his feelings. There’s something tender, something vulnerable—you’ve never seen him look at you like this before.

Seungmin swallows, his Adam’s apple bobbing as if he’s gathering courage. Then, in a soft yet steady voice, he says, “I love you.”

The words hang in the air, suspended between you, and for a moment, you forget how to breathe. He’s never said it before, and hearing those words now, spoken under the starry sky with the waves lapping gently against the boat, it feels… magical.

“I love you,” he repeats, his voice more certain this time, his eyes steady on yours. “I don’t care about the rest of it—our families, the politics, all of it. I love you."

Tears well up in your eyes, not from sadness, but from the overwhelming joy of hearing him say those words. You feel the sincerity in them, the weight of what it means for him to admit it, to declare it, despite everything.

You reach for him, cupping his face in your hands. Using your thumb, you softly rub his cheek. “I love you too, Seungmin, and I think I’ve loved you for longer than I can admit," your voice breaking as you try to hold back your emotions.

Seungmin leans in, closing the small distance between you, and kisses you softly, slowly, as if savoring the moment. His lips are warm against yours, and in that kiss, you feel everything: his love, his promise, his fear, and his hope.

Things are going well. Your relationship with Seungmin remains a secret, and the results of the pre-vote are out, revealing that your father is leading the race by an 8% margin. Everyone is happy, all is well—but you have this nagging feeling in your chest that things won’t stay like this for long. You hope it's for the better, and God, you hope that's true.

To celebrate your father leading in the pre-vote, your family holds a brunch this afternoon. Being invited to this is a significant step toward winning your way back into the family. Your little sister has taken your hand under the table, squeezing it as a sign of solidarity. She hasn’t said it out loud, but you can feel that she’s happy to have you here, part of the family again, even if only for a moment.

However, as the minutes tick by and your father doesn’t appear, a gnawing feeling settles in your chest. You try to brush it off, focusing on how far you’ve come. After all, you’re here, included, proving that you can still be the daughter your family wants you to be.

Then your mother calls you and asks you to follow her to your father’s study. She makes you sit on the leather sofa in anticipation. Her expression is soft, but there’s something behind her eyes that makes your stomach churn, and you know something is wrong before she even speaks.

“When was the last time you saw him?” she asks, her voice quiet but direct.

Your mind flashes back to that night with Seungmin on the boat. You haven’t told anyone, and as far as you know, no one has seen you. But your mother’s gaze is sharp, and she’ll know if you lie.

“I… I went on a boat with Seungmin,” you admit meekly, your voice small and low. “But we were discreet. I swear, no one saw us.”

Your mother lets out a heavy sigh, her hand going to the nape of her neck as she massages it lightly. She doesn’t say anything but takes out her phone from her tweed jacket, tapping the screen a few times before handing it to you. Your eyes widen as you look at the screen, the shock hitting you like a punch to the gut.

There on the screen are photos—compromising photos. Some show you smoking; others are more intimate, even naked. You feel the blood drain from your face. These are pictures from that night on Seungmin’s brother-in-law’s boat, now plastered across the internet.

“Mom…” you stammer, trying to make sense of it. “There was no one there except us. This can’t be happening. It wasn’t Seungmin… it couldn’t be.”

“I’m afraid you weren’t as discreet as you thought,” your mother says, her expression composed but with a grave undertone. “Your father found out about the relationship. He’s furious, and this… this could ruin everything for him.”

You feel faint and hurriedly lean against the table to steady yourself. “No… no, it can’t be. Seungmin would never—”

The idea of Seungmin betraying you is unthinkable, but the pictures don’t lie. Someone had been there, someone had taken them, and now your life is spiraling out of control.

“I don’t believe it’s him,” you insist, shaking your head in denial. “Seungmin wouldn’t do this to me. He cares about me.”

“Think about what’s best for you,” your mother says, her voice rising slightly as she struggles to keep her composure. “Whether it’s Seungmin or his family behind this, we can’t take any more risks. You need to stay away from him, at least until I can figure out what’s really going on.”

Your heart aches, torn between your love for Seungmin and the loyalty you’re still trying to prove to your family.

“I’m sending you back to your hotel,” she says in a tone that leaves no room for argument. “And you’re not to leave until I say it’s safe. Your father is already angry enough, and we can’t afford any more mistakes.”

Before you can protest, she leaves, the door clicking shut behind her, leaving you standing in the middle of the room. You want to believe in Seungmin, but now doubts plague your mind. A question gnaws at you: Is your love for Seungmin worth risking everything you have left?

The car ride back to the hotel is a blur of tears and shattered trust. Your chest feels heavy, the weight of betrayal pressing down on you, suffocating you.

The man you trusted, the one who held you close, is part of the very family responsible for leaking those photos. Whether Seungmin is directly involved or not doesn’t matter anymore—his family is, and that’s enough for you to push him away.

The car pulls up to the curb, and the doorman is there instantly, opening the door and offering his hand to help you out. You feel faint, your legs trembling from the emotions raging inside, but you force yourself to stand, to walk, and to keep your head up if you can.

Just as you step onto the pavement, a familiar hand grabs your arm. You stop in your tracks, your heart aching in your chest.

Seungmin. He’s there, his eyes wide with worry, as if he hadn’t expected to see you like this. And oh, the sight of him, the man you thought you could trust, brings everything crashing down.

Without thinking, you rush at him, your fists pounding against his chest in a fit of anger and betrayal.

“How could you?!” you scream through your tears, each punch that lands fueled by the pain inside. “How could you let them do this to me?!”

Seungmin doesn’t fight back. He just stands there, letting you hit him, his face filled with shock and pain as he tries to reach for you, to explain.

“It wasn’t me,” he tries to say, but the words are lost in the chaos of your emotions. “You know I’d never—”

“Stop lying!” you shout, cutting him off.

Your emotions hit their boiling point, the pain overwhelming you. “You expect me to believe you didn’t know? That this wasn’t some way to tear me apart?”

His eyes widen in disbelief, his hands reaching for you, but you slap them away. “I don’t know who’s doing this, but I would never let anyone hurt you like this. You have to believe me!”

“Believe you? After everything that’s happened? I’ve been humiliated, and you come here pretending like you had nothing to do with it?” Your voice rises with every word, and you’re too far gone, too hurt.

He tries again, stepping closer, but you shove him hard enough that he staggers backward. “I can’t even look at you right now. Get out! Get the fuck out of my face!” you scream, tears streaming down your cheeks.

Seeing you like this is painful for him, but not as painful as knowing he caused this. His hands tremble as he tries one last time to reach for you. “Please, don’t do this—let’s talk—”

Drawn by the commotion, hotel security steps in between you and him, blocking him from approaching you.

“Sir, you need to leave,” one of them says, placing a firm hand on Seungmin’s shoulder.

“Wait! Just let me talk to her!” He tries to push past them, but they hold him back, stronger.

It’s too late. You’ve already turned away, not even sparing him a last glance. He can’t bear the thought of being the cause of all this.

As the door of your hotel room clicks shut behind you, the silence fills the room, and everything comes crashing down again. This time, you don’t have anything left to fight with, so you let the pain and heartbreak consume you, sinking to the floor as tears flood your eyes.

It hits you now—you’ve pushed away the one person you thought you could trust, but everything feels broken beyond repair. It feels like you’re losing everything: your family, your trust, and the man you thought was different.

Leaning against the closed door that seals you off from the outside world, you wonder if there’s anything left to hold on to.

The more Seungmin thinks about it, the more certain he becomes that there is only one person who could have leaked the photos—someone who knew about the boat, someone involved. His brother-in-law.

He doesn’t waste any more time. He grabs his car keys and drives straight to his brother-in-law’s place. A storm rages in his chest, anger mixed with dread, his head full of accusations and possible answers.

When he arrives, he skips the courtesies and storms inside. He finds his brother-in-law leaning against the kitchen counter, looking surprised but not startled to see him.

“Seungmin? What’s going on?” he casually asks.

Seungmin doesn’t stop until he’s standing right in front of him, glaring into his eyes, refusing to be fooled again.

“You know damn well what’s going on. You’re the only one who knew about the boat, the only one who could’ve tipped off the paparazzi. Tell me the truth!" He slams his hand on the counter, causing a spoon resting on the edge of a bowl to clatter. "Did you leak those photos?”

His brother-in-law’s face tenses, the calm façade slipping, replaced by panic. “Look, Seungmin, before you go off—”

“Just answer me!” Seungmin urges, his voice cracking with anger. He can’t bear the thought that someone so close to him—someone he thought of as a brother—has betrayed him like this.

After an intense silence, his brother-in-law sighs and rubs his forehead. “Fine. Yes, I hired the paparazzi.”

Deep down, Seungmin knew this would be the answer, but it doesn’t stop the anger and betrayal surging through him. His hands ball into fists at his sides, his body shaking from holding back violence.

“You set us up? Why?”

His brother-in-law looks at him and licks his lips before answering, “It wasn’t just me, alright? I had permission—permission from your father.”

Seungmin could understand his brother-in-law’s motive: he wants to get on his father’s good side, to be acknowledged and approved. But his father? His own father, whom Seungmin respects and admires, someone he has helped campaign for because he believes in him?

“My father? He knew? He approved this?” Seungmin stammers, struggling to comprehend it.

“Your father’s been watching you, Seungmin. He knows about your little affair with her, and he’s not happy. So yeah, he gave the go-ahead. The idea was to expose her, make her the problem,” his brother-in-law explains, and as if he couldn’t say anything more stupid, he adds, “It’s nothing personal, just politics.”

Seungmin knocks everything off the table—plates, glass, spoon—all clattering to the floor. “You ruined her life for politics!" he shouts, hoping it’ll knock some sense into his brother-in-law’s crooked mind.

“You know how this works, Seungmin,” his brother-in-law says calmly, still leaning against the counter. “Your father is just trying to protect you.”

“Protect me? By destroying her? By ruining her reputation?” Seungmin’s jaw clenches as he fists his hands so hard his knuckles turn white.

“She’s not innocent in all of this, and you know you shouldn’t have gotten involved with her in the first place,” his brother-in-law says, his gaze piercing.

It’s betrayal upon betrayal. Seungmin’s mind is still struggling to process the fact that his father orchestrated the entire thing, using his brother-in-law to tear them apart.

Without another word, Seungmin storms out, but his brother-in-law daringly runs his mouth once more, “You’ll thank me later, Seungmin. Trust me.”

But Seungmin isn’t listening. His mind is busy planning what to do next—how to fix this, how to make things right. His number one priority is not letting his family ruin your life any further.

Seungmin storms into his father’s office, despite his father clearly being in the middle of an interview. His father hurriedly signals his secretary to escort the interviewer out of the room, knowing Seungmin is barely containing his anger.

The man behind the desk doesn’t flinch, already knowing why his son is there. He’s always composed and in control, but today, Seungmin isn’t going to let him keep that control.

“You set me up,” Seungmin spits, his voice sharp with betrayal. His father looks up, surprised but not shaken. “You used your own son to destroy her, to ruin her life, just because of some political rivalry?”

His father leans back in his chair, calmly putting his hands together in front of him. “It’s not about you, Seungmin. It’s about our family’s legacy. You were distracted, involved with the wrong person. I had to make sure you stayed focused on what really matters.”

“What really matters?” Seungmin’s voice shakes with disbelief and anger. “What really matters is that you took someone I care about and humiliated her! For what? Your campaign?”

“That girl was trouble,” his father remarks coldly. “She’s from a family that stands against everything we’re trying to build. You should have known better.”

“I don’t care about the politics!” Seungmin shouts, stepping closer to his father’s desk, unafraid for the first time of going against his father’s principles. “I care about her, and you—you ruined her for your own gain.”

His father stands, towering over the desk and staring intensely into his eyes. “You think you can just walk away from this? From your family? We’ve sacrificed everything for you, Seungmin. You’re going to be a part of this, whether you like it or not.”

“No, I’m not. I’m done with all of this. I’ll never be a part of this family again,” Seungmin says, shaking his head, done being a pawn in his father’s political games.

His father’s eyes darken, and a cold smirk rises at the corner of his lips. “You think this is all about one girl?” he scoffs.

“You’re naïve, Seungmin. You haven’t been in this world long enough to understand how power works. Sacrifices have to be made. And if you walk away from this family, from me, there’s more where that came from.”

Seungmin’s chest tightens with disbelief. “What do you mean by that?”

His father leans forward, his voice low and dangerous. “You think those were the only photos? There’s more from her past. I have them, and if you walk away now—if you so much as think about turning your back on this family—I will release every last one. She won’t have a life left to salvage.”

His father pulls open a drawer and takes out a file, showing Seungmin the photos he’s been keeping as a weapon. “But if you stay—if you fall in line and keep your head down until the election is over—I’ll make sure they disappear.”

Seungmin is hit with another wave of betrayal. His father had planned this all along, dangling her reputation as leverage over him. He expected manipulation, but this? This was beyond anything he could have imagined.

“You’re willing to destroy everything just for power?”

His father doesn’t flinch. “It’s not about power, Seungmin. It’s about winning. And I have won.”

TEN DAYS LATER.

The election is over, and his father has indeed won, but to Seungmin, it means he has nothing left to lose.

The man in front of him has torn apart the one thing that means the most to him, and for what? A title? A seat in the governor’s office?

As everyone gathers around his father, congratulating him and celebrating his victory, Seungmin can't help but wonder: does his father feel the slightest bit of disgust for what he did to achieve this win? Seungmin certainly does. He can't look at his father the same way anymore and refuses being related to him apart from sharing the same DNA.

Seungmin makes his way toward his father, and when he's close enough, he extends his hand. His father doesn't hesitate and grips it, shaking it with a triumphant smile plastered across his face.

"Are you happy now?" Seungmin asks calmly.

"Well, I've won," his father replies with a sickening smirk.

There’s not a hint of remorse on his face for what he did to his own son, which only convinces Seungmin further that he wants no part of this anymore.

"But you've lost your son," Seungmin boldly remarks, each word carrying a finality his father can’t ignore.

Without waiting for his father’s reply, Seungmin turns on his heel and walks away—from his father, his family, everything. He leaves the office behind, as if it’s already become a distant memory.

There's only one thing left to do now.

He drives straight to your father’s campaign headquarters because he doesn't know where else to start. Your family is the only one who knows where you are, and although he doubts any of them would tell him, he can’t—he mustn't—give up.

When he arrives, the place is busy with activity, but it offers a different kind of atmosphere compared to his father’s headquarters. He balls his hands into fists in determination and enters the building without hesitation.

"Apologies, sir, but the headquarters is strictly for staff only tonight," a security guard blocks him from stepping inside.

"I need to talk to someone in there," Seungmin says, hoping the guard will understand and let him through.

"Unless you’ve already made an appointment, we can't let you in, sir," the guard says firmly, crossing his arms and standing in front of the doorway.

Reluctantly, Seungmin steps back, trying to come up with a new plan. He considers waiting outside until one of your family members leaves. It’s a flawed idea, but it’s the best one he has.

Then, as if by divine intervention, your younger sister appears at the reception desk. Seungmin takes a step closer to the entrance, ignoring the guard, and does everything he can to catch her attention, even calling her by her full name.

She looks over her shoulder and, upon seeing him, her expression turns cold and defensive. She never trusted him, and Seungmin doesn’t blame her. Still, he’s desperate, and this might be his only chance to find you.

“I need to know where she is,” Seungmin says, his voice steady but pleading. “I need to see her before it’s too late.”

Your sister crosses her arms, scrutinizing him. "Why should I help you? After everything that’s happened, why should I trust you?"

His throat tightens, but he meets her gaze with unwavering sincerity. “Because I love her. I had no part in what my father did. I’d give up everything to be with her. I already have.”

There’s a long pause as your sister’s expression shifts, her defenses slowly lowering. Perhaps she sees the earnestness in his eyes, the depth of his regret, and his determination.

She turns to the receptionist, writes something down on a piece of paper, and hands it to him. “If you break her heart again, I swear to God...” she mutters, leaving the threat unfinished.

Seungmin’s heart leaps. He’s just met her, but she already feels more like family than his own ever has. “Thank you," he says, his voice full of gratitude.

“She’s leaving the country tomorrow, so you’d better hurry,” she adds, turning away before he can say anything more.

Every second becomes precious as his heart pounds with a new sense of urgency. This is it. He won’t lose you—not to his father, not to the mess his family has created. This time, nothing will stop him.

The country house is quiet, almost too quiet. The only sounds are the soft rustling of the trees outside and the occasional creak of the old wooden floorboards beneath your feet. The room is stifling, but it’s your thoughts that press down on you the most. You fold another shirt and tuck it into your suitcase, packing for tomorrow, planning to leave nothing behind.

It was a mistake to come back here, and you know it now. This city was once a refuge; now, it feels like a prison, a place to hide. You’ve become a liability to your family, and your father made that painfully clear when he sent you here. You were told to stay quiet, remain hidden, and leave without a trace in the morning.

There’s no future for you here anyway.

Tears prick the corners of your eyes as you zip up the suitcase. You can’t take any more of this—feeling like a pawn in a game that was never yours to play. Leaving is the only choice left. It’s for the best, even if it means abandoning everything you’ve ever known. It’s not an easy decision, but you force yourself to push through it.

Then, suddenly, there’s a knock on the door, breaking the stillness of the night.

Your heart leaps, and for a moment, you freeze. You remember your father’s warnings: Never open the door. No one is to know you’re here. Stay hidden. You take a step back, away from the door.

Another knock comes, this time more urgent.

You remain still, holding your breath, praying that whoever it is will go away. But then you hear a voice—his voice.

“Please... it’s me, Seungmin.”

Your heart races at the sound of his voice, familiar and full of emotion. You badly want to rush to the door, to throw it open and fall into his arms, but the alarm bells in your head ring louder. You can’t. You shouldn’t.

“I know you’re in there,” Seungmin says, his voice breaking between words. “I’ve been looking for you everywhere. Please... just let me in.”

You clench your fists, torn between what you know is right and the ache in your chest. You stay quiet, pressing your back against the door, fighting the overwhelming urge to respond.

"I had to find you," Seungmin continues, his voice softer now, almost desperate. “I couldn’t let you leave without seeing you. I can’t lose you—not after everything we’ve been through.”

Tears well in your eyes as you lean your forehead against the door, trying to keep your emotions in check. You shouldn’t let him in. This is a mistake—all of it—but hearing him on the other side, so close yet out of reach, is tearing you apart.

“I just want to be with you," Seungmin whispers. "I love you.”

The words break something inside you, and before you realize what you’re doing, your hand is on the doorknob. Torn between fear and love, you know you shouldn’t open the door, but your heart is aching for him. No matter how hard you try, you can’t ignore the pull you feel toward him.

“Please, don’t shut me out," he mutters, his voice thick with hopelessness.

Your walls crumble. With shaking hands, you unlock the door and pull it open, revealing Seungmin standing there, his face full of worry and relief. His eyes soften the moment they meet yours. Without a word, he steps forward and takes you into his arms.

He holds you tightly, his warmth familiar and comforting. He feels like home. Finally, you let out a breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding.

Seungmin buries his face in your hair, whispering, “I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.”

You pull back just enough to look up at him, your eyes searching his. In that moment, without thinking, you lean in and press your lips to his—a kiss full of longing and everything you’ve been holding back for so long.

In the quiet of that night, with the stars shining through the open window and the future uncertain, you know that, despite everything, being with him is the only thing that makes sense.

The soft glow of moonlight filters through the curtains, casting a delicate sheen across the room. Your bodies are entwined beneath the sheets, the warmth of the moment lingering between you.

Seungmin hovers above you, his chest rising and falling as he gently caresses your face, his fingertips tracing the outline of your cheek like you are something sacred. His gaze is intense but tender, as if memorizing every part of you, still unable to believe you are really here in his arms.

His touch is soft, but the weight of the emotions between you is palpable. You can feel it in the way his fingers brush over your skin. He hasn’t said much, but his eyes tell everything—relief, love, fear of what could have been if he had lost you for good.

“I almost lost you,” he murmurs, his thumb grazing your lips. You lean into his touch, savoring the feeling of being so close, so connected. “I don’t ever want to feel that again.”

You gaze up at him, your heart aching with affection. Here, in this moment, it is just you and him, and nothing else matters.

Seungmin lowers his head to place a soft kiss on your forehead, then your lips, as if sealing some unspoken promise between the two of you.

“Let’s go somewhere,” his lips brush against yours with every word. “Let's start over, somewhere far away from all of this.”

His words hang in the air. The invitation comes so suddenly that you don’t know how to react. You blink up at him, feeling a mix of emotions—hope, love, but also fear. You love him deeply, more than you thought was possible, but you don’t want him to lose everything for you the way you have for him.

“Seungmin…” you whisper, your voice barely audible as your hand comes up to cup his face. “Are you sure? I don’t want you to lose your family, not like I did.”

“I’m sure,” he says firmly, his voice filled with conviction. “This, us, it’s what I want. I want to leave all of this behind and just be with you.”

A tear rolls down your cheek as you stare into his eyes, seeing the truth in his words, the earnestness of his intentions. While it makes you indescribably happy, it also breaks your heart a little. He is giving up everything—his family, his place in their world—just to be with you. You love him more for it, but it's also a heavy burden to bear.

“You really mean that?” you ask, your voice trembling with emotion.

Seungmin nods, his forehead pressing gently against yours. “Yes. This is what I want.”

It feels like the world has finally shifted, like things are starting to fall into place. Even though the future is still uncertain, you believe in him, in the two of you together, and that's enough.

“I love you,” you whisper, pulling him down into a soft, lingering kiss. “As long as we’re together, everything’s going to be okay.”

He kisses you back, holding you tightly against him, and in that moment, everything becomes clear. This is not just a mere coincidence. This is fate. You and Seungmin, together, is fate.

The hum of the plane's engines is comforting, familiar, as you both settle into your seats, side by side.

The memory of that first flight together—the stolen glances, the whispered conversations—comes rushing back, but this time it feels different. This is a new beginning, a chance to start over.

Seungmin glances over at you, a playful glint filling his warm brown eyes. He shifts in his seat, turning toward you just like he had the first time.

"Hi, I’m Seungmin,” he softly says, offering his hand in mock formality, his smile full of warmth. “Traveling alone?”

You can’t help but smile back, slipping your hand into his. “Nice to meet you. And I’m traveling with someone very special, actually.”

You both chuckle, the familiarity of the moment easing the tension of everything that came before. It's like stepping into a memory but with the promise of something better ahead.

Seungmin’s eyes soften as he looks at you, and he leans in closer, his voice lowering.

“Business or pleasure?” you ask playfully, replaying the conversation that had sparked your connection all those months ago.

“Neither,” he answers, his voice gentle but certain. “I’m traveling for a happy ending.”

His words send a flutter through your chest, and you feel the warmth spread all the way to your fingertips. You look at him, your heart overflowing with emotion, knowing that this isn’t just a flight—it is a leap into the unknown, into something new and full of possibility.

You squeeze his hand, feeling the familiar warmth of his skin against yours. “A happy ending,” you repeat with a smile.

As the plane begins to taxi down the runway, he intertwines his fingers with yours, holding on tightly, unwilling to let go. You both stare out the window, watching the world fall away beneath you, your hearts beating in sync.

And as the plane lifts off, climbing higher into the sky, you know that whatever the future holds, as long as you are together, everything will be okay.

The past is behind you now, and in this moment, with Seungmin by your side, the world feels wide open, full of hope and promise. Into a happy ending, you go.

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notseospicy · 2 years

Text

DOTING.

Han x reader. (f) SFW

Synopsis: Han doesn’t believe that a dating app would bring him love but at the same time, he got tired of being lonely. After a few tries, he gets more cynical because none of his matches is you.

Star stuff playlist

For a long, long time Han feels like he doesn't belong anywhere by himself, like an alien who tries to blend in with the earthlings.

He speaks the same language, but no one seems to try and hear him when he says something.

No matter how much he smiles, he feels lonely.

Would it make him a pathetic person that he sought emotions, sparks, that tingle you feel when your eyes first set and meet in that one fated second where you know did you cross paths for a reason?

He still wants to believe that one day, he'll find that magical moment.

But he is lonely and he got tired of waiting.

And time made him a little more pliable, a bit more broken, made him eventually give in to the last chance of getting, at least, what it feels like to be in someone's company.

He is just so lonely, he wants someone to reach out and hold him.

He has been staring at the notification on the app that tells him he just found a match.

He is not obligated to respond, but he promises himself to start putting himself out there and with a sigh, he braves himself to compose a message.

He doesn't wait for a reply, he closes the message box and continues his day, trying not to think so much.

From this day and forth, he'll stop thinking and just do.

It's called the Dot app.

It's available exclusively for the students of the university, it was made by a team of students and is still in development.

The app is a social media that students can use to find friends who share the same interests with them.

Or that is what the original plan was.

When two students are matched and decide to be friends, they can go on a "hangout", in their preferred time and space.

And all that changed when students started using it as a dating app, from there "hangout" turns into "doting", hence the app name.

At first, Han was skeptical about it. He can't even trust the date his friend set up for him, how can he trust an app would find him a better date through a computer algorithm?

He has a hard time wrapping his head around it but desperate time calls for a desperate measure.

He witnessed a lot of his friends find their partners from the app and their relationships still going like any other normal relationship.

Maybe the app just shortened the search and maybe he shouldn't oppose the idea without trying it first.

So here he is, sitting alone waiting for his date in a cafe on a Friday afternoon. He comes just a little early, the appropriate time according to him: fifteen minutes before the appointed time.

And he has been sitting at the table drinking cold water for almost an hour and still can't decide if it's appropriate for him to order or if should he waits for his date to arrive first.

As the ice cubes on the bottom of his glass have melted into water, you come pushing through the door with your hair messy from the windy day.

You hurriedly comb your hair with your fingers, putting the stray hairs covering your face behind your ear and that's when he can see you.

A face that he had never seen but at the same time, peculiarly familiar to him.

In contrast to the cloudy sky, your smile is so bright, your eyes offer warmth like a good cup of tea on autumn days.

Your eyes scan the whole room and look just as clueless as him, could it be that you are looking for him?

He secretly waits until your eyes meet his and when it happens, he got a little disappointed for not getting that tingle he so badly wanted to feel.

You smile at him and start to walk slowly but confidently, making your way toward his table.

All of a sudden, he feels the need to act normal, so he holds his breath and balls his hands on his lap, sitting straight on his chair.

He doesn't even know if you're his date but if you are, he wants to give a good first impression.

You hold your hair from curtaining your face and hold it there, then your mouth opens and a word

falls out of it, "Hi!"

Your voice sounded so welcoming and open, like a friendly hug.

"Hi!" He says back because he yearned to be held and to hold.

You smooth down your skirt with your palms and smile again at him, clearing your throat before speaking again which makes him suddenly aware of his whereabouts.

"Please, sit down!" He says to you, gesturing to the chair across from him.

Your fingers fiddle with the strap of your bag and ask him, "Are you Park?"

His heart deflates in a second and he feels stupid for not asking you first, he sheepishly smiles and answers, "No, I'm not."

Your mouth is open once again but no word comes out of it, "I'm sorry," you apologize.

"No worries!"

"This is my first doting," you explain and uneasily gripping the bag strap on your shoulder.

"This is my first time too," he says if that's anything that would comfort you.

You smile while nodding at him, "I'd better find my match then!"

"Sure!" He says that even though he was reluctant to let you go and has to wait again until his match arrives.

"Good luck!" You say to him before leaving his table.

"You too!" He says, watching you make your way to the table in the corner occupied by a guy who reads a book by himself.

He tries not to look but he can't help himself, it seems like that guy is indeed the one you are looking for and as much as he hates to say it, you look great together.

When he sits back on his chair and looks straight ahead, a girl is standing by his table.

"Are you Han?" She asks.

Finally! He says to himself.

"Yes!" He answers with an enthusiastic grin.

He wouldn't say his first match is a disappointment.

Han shares a lot in common with her, they're both music majors but she studies the business, she has an eclectic taste in music and she also watches anime even though she prefers the English subbed one instead of reading subtitles but he appreciated her honesty.

Apart from her habit of playing with her hair a lot, Han likes her.

Something feels strange though, he shares a lot of common with her but she feels so distant.

Let's say there's no chemistry and maybe love doesn't come on the first try.

He thought of taking a few days to recover from his first 'alright' doting experience until his phone chimed with a new notification of a new match as he holds it up above him.

He stares at his phone screen for a good minute as messages fill his inbox, it feels new to him that his match is the one who messaged him first.

He isn't complaining though, it's easier for him when he isn't the one who initiates it.

Because when things don't go as he expected, he wouldn't feel burdened to cut the strings off.

Or maybe his expectation will meet reality and love comes on the second try.

So he comes to the same cafe on time hoping that his date would be already there, he looks around and found you instead.

You are drawing something on your napkin looking bored then glance up at him like you notice he is looking at you.

He doesn't know why but his hand raises to wave at you and fortunately, you wave back at him.

He can imagine how embarrassing he would be if you didn't.

"Doting?" You ask.

He nods and opens his mouth to speak, a girl waves her hand at him two tables away from yours.

"Good luck!" You mouthed to him before he leaves for his table.

The girl observes him the second he is seated and the more she looks, the more apparent the disappointment drawn on her face.

"Did you wait long?" He asks with a smile for a good first impression.

"I'm sorry but I can't stay long," she says with a grimace, "I have somewhere to be in 30 minutes."

The first thing she said is very unwelcoming and from there everything feels rushed, Han keeps dissociating the entire time she talks about herself.

And when she doesn't talk, she keeps checking the time on her phone screen which only hints that she doesn't want to stay long.

"If you're in a hurry, you can leave," Han says to her with a thin smile.

At least, now he

knows that there's something worse than a bad date and that is being on a date

with someone that doesn't want to be there in the first place.

She got caught by

his words and uneasily glances at him, "it was nice meeting you," she

stammered while gathering his phone and wallet from the table.

"Likewise!"

Han says back to him with another smile.

The girl leaves

without saying anything else and is pretty much as relieved as him when the

date ends.

Turns out love

doesn't come on the second try, or you know what? Maybe love doesn't come that

easily.

He let out a long

breath as he gets up from his chair, he turns his head in the direction of your table and sees you still sitting alone.

"You're date is late?" He asks when he arrives at your table.

You glance up but still have your hand propped under your chin, the soft glow of twilight kissed

your face and makes you appear mystical to him.

"He said he's not coming because something came up," you answer and gesture for him to sit.

He looks down at the drawings of patterns on your napkin.

"Or a nice way to say that he wanted to bail on me," you said with a scrunched nose and a smile.

That is enough to make his heart flips in a second and a chuckle escapes his mouth, "well, it's better than seeing your date want to flee at any second," he says.

You chuckle and put down your pen, "No way?!"

You lean forward, "Is that why the date was so short?"

Han nods then shrugs.

You snort, "we shouldn't be laughing, our dates are ditching us!"

But as your eyes locked in a gaze, you both burst out laughing almost at the same time. He didn't know that he can easily share a laugh with a stranger like this.

"Can I get you a coffee?"

"I don't drink coffee," you reply, "but I would like tea, please?"

"Sure!"

Han returns to the table with the drinks and carefully puts them down on the table. You are drawing another pattern on the napkin, a circle, and inside it, are smaller triangles and so on.

"What are you drawing?"

"Geometric pattern!" You answer nonchalantly.

It feels weird that he feels comfortable around you despite he knows nothing about you, not even a name. This reminds him to introduce himself first.

"I'm Han."

You introduce yourself back and Han suddenly feels seen at how you look at him with two wide eyes full of curiosity.

He clears his throat and pulls his coffee mug, starts blowing on the hot beverage.

You drag his coffee mug away, "Don't do that!"

"Huh?"

"Blowing on it will only release carbon dioxide and carbon monoxide, they will react with the water particle, resulting in the formation of carbonic acid. So when you take food after blowing on it, you tend to take more amount of carbonic acid and the

unwanted carbon monoxide," you pause to take a breath.

"In conclusion, this unhealthy practice will mess with the alkali in your body and cause metabolic imbalance!" You finish then put your hand away from his mug.

Han blinks and tries to process your words into his head "And what is your major?"

"Astrophysics."

Han swallows because science is not something he can bravely dip his feet into, "That explains."

"That also explains why my date is ditching me," You say while wrapping your hand around your teacup to absorb the heat.

"No, I mean, that explains why I have never seen you," he quickly adds.

"Shouldn't have explained the second law of thermodynamics to him on the first date," you shake your head, half-laughing.

Han doesn't know anything about physics in the first place but he wishes he can have anything to say about that.

You softly laugh at the perplexed look on his face, your finger trailing the rim of your teacup, "have you ever heard of 'arrow of time'?"

He shakes his head, confused but purely curious at once.

"We live in a spacetime that is 4 dimensional but space and time differ in some fundamental ways."

Han nods, intently listening to your words.

"In space, we're free to move as we wish," you take your pen and move it around in the air, "we can go back, forward, side to side."

You put the pen down and then stack your hands together on the table, "but when it comes to time, we're stuck. We grow older, not younger. We remember the past, not the future. Time, unlike space, has a preferred direction."

His brain pops a question, "time only flows in one direction?" He asks as baffled as the question itself.

You nod with a smile, "why do you think?"

Han takes his time because he wants to give the best answer, "I mean... if you know about the future then it wouldn't be exciting anymore, don't you think?"

You nod at him.

"Also, if you know everything, both the past and the future, wouldn't it be too much?"

You slightly tip your head to the side, intrigued.

"A person can't have that much knowledge," he concludes.

A smile rises on your face, "see? I don't need a smart answer, I just need an honest one."

Han can't help but smile in satisfaction knowing that you acknowledged his answer.

"Can we drink now?" He hesitates as his finger is hooked on the handle of the coffee mug.

"Sure!"

It's dark when you both get out of the cafe and dried leaves litter the pavements, your feet making crunching sounds as you step on them.

"I forgot to ask you what your major is?" You ask, shoving your hands into the pockets of your cardigan.

"Music production and engineering," he answers also putting his hands into the pockets of his jackets since the wind is getting cold toward the end of autumn.

"Ah, music. Is that something you are passionate about?"

Han sucks air through his teeth, he doesn't expect this kind of question that indirectly dig through his personal life.

"My father was in a band and he used to write songs so I think that influenced me a lot to learn music," he answers.

"And you write music?"

He awkwardly laughs at how you casually ask him but he understands that you are merely curious, "well, yeah."

"What kind of music?"

"I'm always open to trying any genre," he replies.

"I only listen to classical so I don't know much about music," you admit then fire another question.

"Do you play any instruments?"

"Guitar and piano."

You gasp in awe.

"Why? You must be able to play at least one musical instrument too, right?"

You stifle a laugh,

"I played clarinet in the school band. Does that count?"

"Of course, that counts!" He assures rather too passionately.

"But I kind of got kicked out on the second practice because I was always behind the tempo," you add with a grimace.

You both stop at the intersection and look at each other.

"Come on! You did that on purpose, didn't you?"

You shake your head, "I wish but I'm just so bad at it."

Han can't accept the fact that someone as fascinating as you do have a flaw, not when the streetlight shines down on you and form a halo glow above your head.

"Anyway, I'm going this way," you point to the way behind you, heading east of the

intersection.

"And I'm going that way," he points the opposite way.

You stand on your tiptoes for a second and smile, "bye then!"

"Bye!" He flashes another smile before you turn around and leave, he watches you until your figure disappeared, engulfed by the dark of the night then he turns his way.

Han can't believe that the only common thing he has with the girl he's having a date with now is through a book he read once in his teen years.

The girl is pretty, she wears glasses that emphasize her beautiful brown eyes and shiny dark hair that would pass a shampoo ad. And she's very soft-spoken.

He doesn't have a certain type to begin with but she is close to what he wanted.

The only thing that gets in the way is she's just as awkward as he is, from the two hours he spent on the date an hour was spent in silence.

The date ends on a nice note with her nervously saying that she isn't actually in need of a significant other and agrees to be friends with him instead.

It isn't a loss if he gained something from it, right?

He walks out of the cafe alone and finds himself at the intersection where he parted with you that night, which was two weeks ago.

He hasn't seen you again ever since.

He got tempted to go to your faculty building but was afraid that would make him seem pretentious and he doesn't know anyone from any science majors.

He walks in the direction of the university complex where a festival is held, he decides to come since the date finishes earlier than he thought.

His friends must be somewhere and he plans of finding them even if that means he would be the only one without a plus one.

He stops by a game tent to play a game of ring toss and pays for a round.

He got 5 rings and he successfully put the first one but missed the next two rings.

He heavily sighs seeing that he only got two rings left, the best he can get is three out of five and that would only win him a silly little keychain as a consolation prize.

With a deep breath and confidence he got, he throws the fourth ring. He groans as it misses too far back and hits the wall instead.

"Your posture is wrong!" Someone says.

His head snaps to the source of the voice and finds you standing next to him.

"You lean your body forward so you should balance it with a leg to the back, not bending your knees."

Han hesitates to do it as you instructed him, he looks at you again and you blink at him, waiting if he will do as you say.

He caves in and does as you instructed, throwing the last ring he got as it successfully lands in one of the little traffic cones.

"Well, you should have come earlier and I would have won one of those food coupons,"

he says out of embarrassment as he takes the keychain as his consolation prize.

You crack a laugh and pull out money to play for a round, "it's all about the angle and how you throw the ring," you say and take a stance to start throwing.

The first ring seamlessly lands on the closest traffic cone and you confidently throw the remaining rings, effortlessly putting everyone else who is also playing to shame.

You receive two food coupons to exchange at selected food stands.

"Are you always this cool?" He asks with mouth agape.

"There's a scientific way to do almost anything," you say while laughing.

"So, what do you want to eat?" You ask for a suggestion from him.

"Huh?"

"Aren't we going to exchange the coupons?"

It takes him a moment to realize that you want to share the coupons with him, "are you sharing it with me?"

"Well, I have two coupons!" You show him and look around the row of food stands in the crowded place.

"I just thought—"

You cut him off with a question, "How about pizza?"

Han stifles a nod.

He voluntarily brings the pizza on paper plates with both hands while you're carrying the cans of drink, walking together to the garden near the university library where it's less crowded.

You both sit on the picnic table instead of on its bench and set the food in the space between you and him.

"Pineapple pizza for you and cheese pizza for me!" He says while handing you your slice of pizza.

"Cola for you and juice for me!" You place his can of soda in from of him and open your can next.

Han follows suit, opening his can and clinking it with you for a toast.

"Cheers!" You both say in unison.

The faint music from the festival still can be heard but he can also hear the rustles of leaves as the wind blows in.

"One question!" Han suddenly says with his cheeks full of food.

"Why pineapple pizza?"

You sigh while rolling your eyes and finish chewing, "I know there's a whole debate out there whether it's okay to put pineapple on pizza or not," you explain.

"So you know?"

"I'm not living under a rock!"

Han chuckles in response and continues chewing.

"But at the end of the day, it's just food. I love pizza, I love pineapple, it's basically two things that I love in one!" You defend your argument with a nonchalant shrug and take another bite of your pizza.

He nods in agreement, "that's valid!"

He puts the trash away into the nearest rubbish bin and returns to the picnic table, watching you looking up at the night sky like you're sunbathing under the moon.

He sits next to you and does the same thing, propping his hands behind him, head tilting up looking at the bright, almost full moon.

"Did you stop doting?" He asks.

"Not really."

"I haven't seen you in the cafe anymore," he says, turning his head at you and watching your face bask under the moonlight.

"I was sick with flu last week," you reply.

"That sucks!" He comments and back to looking up at the stars dotted in the night sky.

"Are you still doting?" You ask.

"I did one today."

"How was it?"

"It was nice but we decide to be friends," he puts his hand up to figuratively pinch the moon between his thumb and forefinger.

"That's cute!"

Han hesitates to ask you the question he's been meaning to ask but his curiosity always gets the

best of him, "May I know why you decide to start doting?"

He hears you hum

and shift on the table and turns slightly to face him with your legs stacked

against each other.

“I’m not trying to find someone to date,” you answer

with a soft smile, “let’s start there!”

“I think you know by now that I have a very unquiet mind,” you let out a low laugh.

“I just want someone who wants to listen.”

He can relate to your answer because oftentimes, he finds himself filled with ideas that he gets the urge to share with someone.

You are larger-than-life but what you want is something as simple as that. You don’t necessarily need someone who can comprehend your ideas and thoughts, you just want someone who listens.

“What about you?”

Han doesn’t expect you to ask him back but he must return the favor.

He doesn’t know how to give you a proper answer when he, himself, doesn’t know the answer, “I honestly don’t know,” he answers with a dry laugh.

He tries his best to accumulate his thoughts and focus on the question, deep down he knows what his heart wants.

“I just want to know if I deserve love,” he finally admits.

He looks at you looking at him with the moon reflected in your eyes, sparkling and bright.

Suddenly, he gets so aware of his too honest, lame answer and gets embarrassed.

“Well, now you know how pathetic I am!”

You take a long breath and hold your hand up to connect one star to another to form a constellation, “do you know that we are made of star stuff?”

“Star stuff?” He asks.

“Yeah,” you confirm and come up with the explanation.

“Our solar system is formed from a supernova and that’s including earth. Over billion of years, the matter within earth coalesced into life forms of ever-increasing complexity.

"So the particles in our bodies like the nitrogen in our DNA, the calcium in our teeth, the iron in our blood and etcetera have been in existence for billions of years.

"And they will persist for billions of years after we move on.”

You pause to turn your head at him with your eyes staring straight into him.

“And these particles were all forged in the nuclear fusion fires of stars.”

You lean in close enough that he can see those glints in your eyes, the lively glints of when people talk about something they’re passionate about.

“Whenever you feel pathetic, just remember that we are made of star stuff.”

He instantly looks up at stars scattering above him, he suddenly feels small as he gets hit by the realization that the universe is so vast, but at the same time, he feels big because he is a part of it, and he doesn’t know how is that possible.

For the first time in his life, he feels larger than himself, that he deserves love and more.

He turns his head at you, “star stuff…” he sighs.

“Star stuff!” You say back.

You stare into each other's eyes as if there we star collapsing on them and the chime comes from Han's phone to defuse the explosion.

"Seems like you get a new match!" It's a very familiar sound that anyone in the university can easily recognize.

Han pulls his phone out of his jacket pocket and turns the notification off, pushing it back inside the pocket without checking.

When it's getting late and you announce it's time to get back, Han insists on walking you back to

the intersection.

"Thank you for the pizza!" He says, kicking a twig to the side of the pavement so you wouldn't trip over it.

"No worries!"

"I owe you one!" He says, in hope that he gets to treat you something someday.

"Can I have that keychain then?"

"The keychain?" He gropes the pockets of his jacket because he can't remember which pocket he put it in and finds it in the pocket of his jeans instead.

He holds the keychain with a miniature penguin dangling from the end of the chain.

"I'll take this," you say and take the keychain looping around his finger, "so now we're even!"

Han gets a little disappointed but what else can he do, "do you know any fun facts about penguins?"

He playfully asks.

"I actually do!"

Han laughs in response, he shouldn't try to tease you because you're very knowledgeable. He wasn't serious about his question but now he's curious to know.

"When a male penguin falls in love with a female penguin, he searches the whole beach to find her the smoothest, most perfect pebble to present to her as a proposal," you elaborate while continue walking next to him and your hands

brushing with his as you walk.

"If she approves, she puts the stone in her nest."

"What if she doesn't?"

"I don't know," you answer, "throw it at his face maybe?" You guess while looking at him.

He looks back at you and at the same time, bursts into laughs.

"That's cruel!" He comments while still laughing.

The intersection is closing in and oddly enough, he doesn't want to part with you yet. He still finds it strange to find comfort in a person he knows so little about, but maybe it's you that is so fascinating to him.

"Here we are!" You say as you walk on your way home, standing a foot away from him while fixing your hair from the raging wind.

"Goodnight!"

He holds his hand up and waves at you, "Goodnight!"

After a few steps, he can hear your phone dinged with the familiar tone of the dot app notification sound. It seems like you too just got a new match.

He doesn't need to question the app on why he never matches with you, it's obvious that the two of you have nothing in common. From your two different majors, how you don't drink coffee, you only listen to classical and you're really, really smart while he's far below average.

The algorithm knows better to never match you with him, an alien roaming the earth.

"Don't blow on it!" Han snaps at his date when she's about to blow his hot cappuccino.

The girl's eyes widen in confusion, "Uhm... why?"

Han gets conscious of his actions and immediately retracts his hand from covering the poor girl's drink.

"I don't know the scientific explanation but it's an unhealthy practice," he meekly explains with an awkward smile.

The girl reclines in her seat, "what are you majoring in again?"

"Music!"

The girl shoots him a weird stare and then pushes her coffee mug away.

The date is surprisingly going well until that happens.

She shares a lot in common with him, she listens to the bands he listened to and reads so many of his favorite comics and movies that he watched one too many times.

This should be convenient because he can talk about so many things, right?

But after the date, he finds himself under the streetlight where he parted with you.

It feels somehow melancholic looking up at the night sky while listening to the track he made last night through his earphones and he closes his eyes, putting the world on pause.

After a moment of detaching himself from the world, he opens his eyes to find you standing next to him.

His loud thoughts must have called out for you to appear right in front of him. like the universe heard his subconscious desire.

You speak to him but he can't hear you with the earphones on, he quickly takes them off.

"Sorry, what are you saying?" He asks again.

"What are you listening to?" You ask, your hair is messy from the wind even though you tied it into a bun.

"Uh... just a track I made," he stutters, a bit embarrassed to say it because he doesn't want to give the impression that he was bragging.

"Can I listen?" You ask, taking a step closer next to him.

The request takes him by surprise but he hands you his earphones, "but it's not done yet," he says.

You shrug then put the earphones on, "It's not like... I'm Mozart," you say with a sly smile.

Han replays the track he listened to and watches you listening to it, it's slightly nerve-wracking because he is the one who made it.

He sees you flash him a smile before closing your eyes and the wind starts blowing your way,

shaking the leaves from the tree above, sending them falling on both of you.

A leaf caught in your hair and he reaches to remove it, his hand pauses just right on the side

of your head the moment he realizes the proximity. The first thing that crosses his mind is to look at your face, beautiful and still.

At that moment, he wishes time would stop flowing so he can admire you for as long as he wants.

Then your eyes snap open and you take the earphones away, giving them back to him.

"It's still rough so I'm sorry if it's... bad," Han starts to blabber although you didn't say anything about it.

"I want to listen to it again once you finish it," you say, not giving him a comment on the piece of music he wrote.

He puts his phone away and nods, he doesn't know why he agrees without thinking.

"I guess you just did another doting?" You suddenly ask.

He shoves his hands into his jacket pockets to hold the urge to put your hair away from covering your face, "Yes."

"How did it go?"

"We're going on a second date next Friday," he answers with a shy smile.

"That's good!" You beam while hoisting the strap of your bag higher on your shoulder.

"Yeah," he isn't sure if that's the right response to your positive comment, he should be excited since this is what he wanted and he is close to getting it.

"Where are you going?" He asks since meeting you here is so coincidental.

"Home!" You shortly reply at the same time a strong gust of wind blowing in and you stagger to the side.

Han immediately grabs your elbow to steady you and helps you fix your hair, "Are you okay?"

Your eyes locked for a second and in that one second, he believes his heart skipped a beat too.

"Yeah, thank you!" You respond with a low laugh and start clutching your trench coat together.

"I'd better get home fast, I have to study for an exam tomorrow!"

Realizing that you said you needed to get home, he lets go of your elbow almost immediately and says, "yeah, you'd better!"

You grip your bag strap and head in the direction of your way home, "anyway, nice meeting you here!"

He nods in response and watches you walk away until your figure forms a dot in the distance then nothing. And he doesn't know why he feels so sad about it.

The girl smiles at him the moment she sees him entering the cafe and he takes it as a good sign.

"I'm sorry for being late," he says and sits across his date.

"That's okay!" She replies with an easy smile.

It doesn't hard to talk to her because she knows everything about his favorite things and conversations keep flowing, there's no way he doesn't enjoy this.

A moment later, you come into the cafe with your eyes scanning the room and it seems like you're coming for doting as well.

He thought you intentionally avoid his eyes until you walk past his table and mouthed, "she's really pretty!"

He sheepishly smiles in return and watches you walk to the empty table in the corner where he first met you.

It's funny that ever since you come through the door, he can't focus on the conversation going on with his date and all he can think about is how he doesn't get the same comfort as when he talks with you.

Han often thinks that the ultimate way to find love is to find someone who shares a lot in common with him, shares a lot of likes and dislikes, someone who is similar to him in some ways.

But maybe he is wrong.

Maybe love isn't about finding someone to share his silly little hobbies with.

Maybe love is a space where he can truly be himself and be comfortable doing it. Maybe it's not about sharing things he already knows, maybe it's about learning new things from each other even to the strangest of ideas.

He turns in his chair to see you as you start drawing on the napkin again with the afternoon sun so softly bathing your face in a warm glow.

The more he looks at you the more he feels that invisible force that pulls him in attracts him to come close and stays close to you.

And he wanted to gravitate towards you, no one else, but you.

He let out a series of laughter out of the blue, feeling foolish that he trusted an algorithm to find him love instead of his own heart.

"Are you okay?" His date asks.

He stops laughing and looks at her, "you're really lovely!"

The girl gets taken aback by the compliment, "oh?"

He thinks of a way to put things gently, "I'm sorry but... I think I'm not the right one for you."

"Oh?" She says again but in a mix of slight shock and pity.

Han feels bad of course, but it's better than letting her hope grows and wasting her time, time that she can use to find someone far better than him.

And he knows that he needs to do the right thing.

"Now if you excuse me," he says and gets up from his chair.

He sees your date is coming to your table which means it's late for him to get to you first.

He stands there between the options, to take his shot or not.

This must be what people called as a life-altering decision, one decision that has an effect strong enough to change his life path.

So he strides to your table, against all odds.

You were talking with your date and he seems nice, he doesn't know if he's nice enough for you but he is willing to try.

You glance up to find him looking at you, "hey, can I help you with something?" You ask.

"Do you want to go on a date with me?" He blurts out without thinking, ignoring your date who is looking completely stunned by the scene that unfolds in front of him.

"All of a sudden?" You ask with an awkward laugh and propping a hand under your chin to look at him.

He can't tell the reasons behind this impulsive action so he settles on something that crosses his mind, "isn't there a theory where an object will not change its motion unless a force acts on it?"

Your plain expression turns alive followed by giggles spilling out of your mouth.

"That's not a theory, my friend!" The nice guy says to him with a condescending laugh.

"You mean, Newton's first law?" You guess.

Han jerks his head back, trapped by his own smart-ass words which makes him wish that he didn't say that.

"Well, I wasn't planning on... I was trying..." he stutters and eventually gives up on explaining.

He takes a deep breath, sensing that he's about to start blabbering around like he always does when he's nervous.

"Yeah, I want to go on a date with you!" You say ever so casually, shocking both him and the nice guy sitting across from you.

You gather your coat from the chair next to you along with your bag, "we're going now, right?"

Han quickly gets ahold of himself and nods, "yes!"

You get up from the chair, "It was nice meeting you!" You say to the nice guy then follow Han out of the cafe.

A soft, pleasant breeze welcomes you both as you push the door out of the cafe and you hurriedly put on your coat while Han is still trying to get a grasp of what just happened.

Did you just agree to go on a date with him?

"So, where are we going?" You ask, fixing your hair and taking it out of the collar of your coat, slinging your bag across your chest.

Han doesn't think this through because it's so unlike him to act on the spur of the moment therefore he has no plans on what to do after.

"Uhm..." he hums long enough that it starts to sound like a buzzing of a mosquito.

You notice that he has no ideas in mind and laughs, "how about movies? What do you think?" You offer one.

He lets out a breath of relief, thankful that he gets a way out of it, and smiles, "yes!"

Again, he doesn't think through that being in a darkened room with you will be a good idea.

He steals a glance to his side and sees your face illuminated by the light from the screen, fully focusing on the movie, unlike him who keeps looking down at his hand that rests so close to yours

He just needs to reach it yet it feels like his hand suddenly turns heavy every time he tried to do so.

He licks his lips and inaudibly inhales air, mustering up the guts to lift his hand to grab yours.

He aborts his plan when all of a sudden you draw your hand away from your lap to wipe your nose.

A sigh escapes his mouth, unintentionally loud.

"You don't like the movie?" You ask.

He vigorously shakes his head, "No!"

Then looks back straight ahead and tries not to think about holding your hand, wiping them down his thighs instead because apparently, his palms are sweaty.

Then out of nowhere, your hand grabs his on his lap.

His head automatically turns at you and in the dark, he can see your smile and he can feel the warmth it is emitting.

"Your hand is so cold," you say in a low voice and with that being said, you slip your fingers between the spaces of his fingers and intertwine them together.

"Is it warm enough?" You ask again.

Luckily you can't see how flushed he look at that moment, how so many thoughts rushing into his head that he can't sort out his feelings anymore.

But yes, it is comfortably warm.

"Yes."

He wanted so much to give you the best date that he can come up with, if only he come prepared and planned everything, he believed he can give that to you.

He can do so much better than eating fast food in the park at night.

"Tonight's weather is exceptionally nice!" You chime in as if you heard his weary thought and assure him you're enjoying the moment.

Maybe Han shouldn't be too hasty to conclude that the date is an utter disappointment when the universe is in his favor.

The cold, raging wind is replaced by a pleasant, cool breeze that blows so softly which reminds him of spring and how he wants to skip winter altogether.

"Did you finish the song?"

He chews on his food fast to answer your question, "No, not yet," he answers.

"I don't even know if I'll ever finish it to be honest," he corrected, unsure of his answer as well.

You drink your orange juice through the straw, "are you working on another track?"

He shakes his head.

"That's the only thing I've been making so far," he honestly admits.

Han is insecure about a lot of things but not his passion, music.

Once he entered college and learned more about it, and met a lot of people who share the same passion, better than him, he got a lot insecure.

He believes in the notion that his insecurity will shrink as he gets older, but that was a childish thought, that was before he realized that a lot of people are better than him.

"Why?" You ask.

It's such a simple question but it demands more than just a simple answer in return. The question asks more than the reasons why but also what led him into this, stuck in the forest of anxiety.

"Creative block, I guess," he vaguely answers.

You both start to walk around the park as the quiet of the night is masked by the sounds of the rippling water of the lake.

"You wrote the music and I think that's remarkable already," you say to him.

Han softly smiles and to hear a compliment from you is enough for him.

"It's not like I'm Mozart," he says, poking fun at your past remark

You respond with a laugh, "well, did you play songs on harpsichord at four years old and compose simple music at five?"

"Nah, I'm not that great!" He replies with a playful laugh.

"I don't think I'll ever be that great!"

He doesn't want it to end, yet again.

As you both walk the same pavements that lead to your way home, he knows that the night is about to end and that he is about to part with you soon.

At least, he gets to walk you home to the front gate of your student housing.

You both stop as you entered the pin to unlock the gate then hold it ajar.

He takes it as a sign to step back, "I'm sorry for the disappointing date," he meekly says.

You turn around with your hand still holding the gate door open, "aren't you coming upstairs?"

He stops right as he was about to take another step back, scares if he misheard you.

"To your...... place?" He asks for confirmation.

You replace your hand and hold the gate open with your foot, "it's not big but... I think it fits two people."

Isn't it obvious that his knowledge about dating is lacking but he knows what this means, you invite him to your place even though it's only the first, proper date.

"Is it okay... if I...?" He stammers, hands awkwardly swaying in the air.

"I wouldn't ask if it's not allowed," you say while laughing.

Han doesn't have anything against this, he wants to spend the night with you if not more.

Turns out, it's gender-inclusive housing from the crowd gathering in the lobby of the building but in one look, he can tell that everyone living in the building has a higher IQ than him. A few people greet you on the way to your room and you politely greet them back, they can't be bothered with him following you from behind and you briefly introduce him to your peers.

You pull out a key with the penguin keychain from his consolation prize dangling from it, jiggling as you turn the key and push the door to your room open.

He already expects that there will be a lot of books inside but not that they'll be stacked like they're on a garage sale.

"Beware of the books!" You tell him.

And he carefully picks where he steps on or else he'll nudge one of the stacks and sends it collapsing down the floor.

You lead him to the spacious part of your room and probably, the most private part of your room.

There's your bed and study desk, more books on the bedside table, and a record player in the corner of the room.

He got curious to know what music are you listening to, he turns it on and then put the needle on the record.

Music starts filling the room with a classical tune, one that Han never heard before.

"It's Tristan und Isolde by Richard Wagner," you tell him while taking off your coat and putting down your bag on the desk chair.

He nods and is suddenly aware that he's in your room now, with you.

Doesn't want to seem awkward, he starts to look around the room but one that catches his attention is the wallpaper on the ceiling of your room.

He looks up at the drawn stars as they form visible constellations that he doesn't know the name of.

"My sister put them up for me!"

"That's lovely!"

You head for the switch and turn the lights off, he hopes for total darkness but something lights up above him. The stars on the ceiling glow in the dark just like real stars out there in the night sky.

You walk up to him and stand just right in front of him, tilting your head up.

"What is your constellation?"

"Virgo."

You look around and point at the thirteen stars that formed a constellation, "Virgo is between Leo and Libra there!"

Han sees the constellation that forms a lazy Y shape.

"It's the second largest constellation in the sky," you add with an enthusiastic smile.

He stops looking up and looks at you instead, the stars reflected in your eyes, mesmerizing, hypnotizing.

Notice that he is looking at you, you look back at him and it's the closest you've ever seen him.

Then he feels it, the sparks that light up his heart and are about to burst out of him, he can't control it anymore.

So he leans in and kisses you so tenderly, with soft lips and warm breaths, his heart melts as the kiss softens his edges.

The kiss is nothing but something that he's been looking for in his life.

It makes him feel embraced, welcomed, comforted, everything that is good in this world that he doesn't know if he deserves it.

He lets go with a gasp as his lungs burns from running out of oxygen.

But he doesn't want to stop yet, he holds your face with both hands and it assures him that he had chosen the right path.

"You're so beautiful," he whispers because that moment feels so sacred and he is afraid that he will ruin it by speaking.

You softly smile and his thumb wipes over your lips before pressing his lips on you again.

He lets his arms open to hold you like he always wanted, close.

And kisses you more under the stars.

If humans truly are made of star stuff, he believes you are made from the brightest star in the universe because he refuses to believe that he's made of the same thing.

As he lays next to you on your bed and stares up at your starry ceiling though he has a change of mind, he thinks that maybe you are made of outer space and he wants to explore.

He has been staring at you and when you turn your head at him, your eyes find him almost immediately.

Your eyes, your eyes pull him in like a pair of black holes that gets him curious about what lies behind and inside that beautiful head of yours.

"Want to know something?" You ask.

"Yes?" Because he wants to be the one who listens to you.

You stare up at the ceiling again and softly sigh, "When stars die, they don't just fade away."

You put your hand on your side from resting it on your stomach.

"Their lives end in the most spectacular and most luminous explosions that we know."

He feels his hand nudges yours on the bed but this time, he doesn't hesitate to hold yours.

"For weeks they can become nearly as bright as a whole galaxy," you finish.

He turns your hand up and interlaces his hand with yours, "that's fascinating!"

You flash him a smile, "I believe we are just the same," you pause to lock a gaze with him, "that before we die, we will make the most spectacular and luminous explosions!"

"So, don't ever say that you'll never be great," you say to him in an incredibly low voice it's almost like a whisper.

"Someday, you'll shine as bright as a whole galaxy." You say with a gentle squeeze on his hand.

He doesn't know if it's in how you use the metaphors or how you smile at him or the way you hold his hand back that gives him the confidence to believe in that too.

He stares back at you, "because we are made of star stuff?"

You nod with a smile, "yeah."

"Star stuff?" he sighs.

"Star stuff," you say back.

At that moment, he thinks that love is finding his universe in a person.

And he's no longer an alien cause he finds it in you.

All the while, you find a different answer to one of life's mysteries, the one thing that transcends dimensions of time and space: Love.

You can't find any scientific explanation for that but then again, the universe is under no obligation to make sense to you.

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