#song is from risk by gracie abrams | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

reidmania · 12 days

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cedar | spencer reid

summary; breaking up on good terms and remaining friends is difficult, especially when you and spencer work together, its even harder when your life is put at risk and spencer is faced the possibility that he might really lose you.

warnings; exes who cannot stay exes, angst, fluff, they flirt w each other, fem reader, mentions of being stabbed, all cm minds things, happy ending, avoidant!reader, self sabotaging reader. BUT THERES SOOO MUCH FLUFF GUYS, they flirt and banter so much, reader is sarcastic and very playful, shes lowkey lorelai gilmore coded a little idk

an; cedar is my song. i love cedar, i love gracie abrams. thank u and goodnight. not proof read bc if i read it i probably wont post it. thank u so very muchly to @gghostwriter for all the advice on this fic and letting me yap about it.

‘Breaking up is funny, I forget you aren't mine, I forget you aren't mine. It's impossible to acclimate, every time we talk, we understate, how I know we both could die, we both could die. But you told me that you felt the same, when I told you how I needed space, but I think it was a lie, it was a lie’

“You know pointing is rude.” You mumbled, crossing your arms over your chest as you leant back in your chair. The room went silent as everyone turned their gaze to look at you. Was the timing of your statement the best? No, did you care? Also no. Hotch was in the middle of going on the details of the case you had traveled out to Louisiana for, he was pointing at the screen and the thought just slipped passed your lips before you could help it.

Spencer turned his gaze to you, eyebrow rasied, “Do you ever think before you speak?” He asked. Your lips parted before shutting again, then you let out an amused huff and shook your head, lips pulling into a half teasing smile.

“If I did that I’d lose my sense of humour— you all would be miserably bored.” You sighed back, the smiling pulling further on your lips as the messy haired brunette sitting opposite you raised his eyebrow further and let out a half hearted— almost sarcastic chuckle in return.

He tilted his head slightly, “Humour? Is that what we are calling it?” He asked. You nodded instantly, a wide, half proud smile taking over your features. He hummed, clearly amused.

“Why is pointing rude?” JJ spoke up, your eyes widened in almost excitement to be able to talk about why the thought had crossed your mind in the first place.

“Well when you point you kill all the fairies.” You replied, matter-of- factually. You knew it was technically silly but it was a sweet childish thought that had been engraved in your mind since you were younger and you heard it from a distant relative, probably as a way to you from stop pointing at someone (because that was rude but explaining that to a five year old would be useless so they settled on something more interesting for an adolescent)

Spencer let out an audible laugh, “You are a child.” He said, almost teasingly.

Your head turned away from JJ’s to meet his eyes, this time you sat up a little straighter, “What does that make you?” You teased back, raising your eyebrow at him.

Seemingly, that made his lips part then close, and he resigned, yet there was still a slightly amused smile on his lips, which he bit his lip to try to hide, as he turned his attention away, making your smile only widen as you settled back in place, slumped against your chair as you turned your attention back to Hotch. who was standing arms crossed, clearly unamused by the interruption.

You however just smiled widely at him, “You may continue now. Without pointing, don’t be a fairy murder.” You huffed out. Hotch stared at you for a moment, no emotion evident over his features before he shook his head, turning his attention back to the case at hand.

Your eyes caught Spencer’s for a moment. In those moments it was increasingly difficult to remember you weren’t together, it was further difficult to remember why you had broken up in the first place. The way you interacted, the looking for one another in a crowded room, the soft touches and the teasing taunts went against every breakup ‘rule’

The breakup wasn’t messy. Not really, Not at all. It wasn’t mean, there was no big argument, no mind changer, no feelings lost, it just.. happened. It started when you had admitted to Spencer you were getting overwhelmed with the fast pace of your relationship, and he agreed he was too. You both agreed to take space, time, to reevaluate on what you both needed at this point in time.

When the conversation finally happened, you told him you thought it would be better to end things now, while everything is good so theres no chance of things going bad. You explained your reasoning by saying you didn’t want to lose your friendship with him if that feeling in your chest never went away, you didn’t want things to be awkward at work.

He had agreed, and it was mutual. You both mutually agreed to end things out of the fear of things ending.

It had been a month since the breakup, there was no awkward phase between you two. There was no tension, bitterness. It instantly fell into the same rhythm that had always been there, playfulness, teasing, lingering glances. The only difference was now he didn’t steal kisses to cut off one of your dramatic rambles, or wrap his arms around your waist at the end of the work day to signal he was ready to go.

You hadn’t decided yet, if the breakup was the right thing to do, if keeping this close knit bond with Spencer stumped any chance of you moving on — not that you planned to right now.

The breakup wasn’t messy, but everything after, everything now and everything in your head was.

“Spencer” You poked at his arm as you approached where he was standing, leaning over a desk reading over something, you weren’t sure what it was, you didn’t really care. He didn’t look at you as he let out a hum of acknowledgment, making you smile. “Spencer” You repeated, poking his arm again, and then again, until he turned his head to look at you.

His raised eyebrow and the way his lips pulled into a tight thin line showed he was unamused, not annoyed. You smiled widely at him, “You’re in my way.” You said, something you could have told him when he was half paying attention, but that took all the fun out of it.

He stared at you blankly for a moment, before crossing his arms over his chest, leaning his body against the desk further, turning towards you. Which only further blocked your path. “Thats unfortunate.” He sighed, you squinted at him slightly.

“Can you move.” You huffed. No longer amused because it was less amusing when he was amused as well. Maybe that was silly but you couldn’t help it.

He raised an eyebrow, pretending to think about it for a moment, before looking back at you. You glared at him, crossing his arms over your chest before he spoke. “Whats the magic word?” He mumbled, tone laced with faux seriousness.

A huff left your lips, as you glared up at him, squinting your eyes slightly, “Chivalry is dead?” You suggested sarcastically.

He grinned, “No. And that’s a sentence. I said magic word”

“You know what? I will just go the other way.” You decided, turning on your heels to walk away. A laugh left his lips as he reached out to grab your wrist, stopping you from getting too far, he dragged you back to stand in front of him.

“Stubborn.” He mumbled, shaking his head as he looked down at you, you returned the gaze, tilting your head slightly as you looked up at him, trying to keep the smile threatening to make way onto your face.

“You just noticed?” You replied in the same tone. Although you knew he had known this for a while, he never failed to mention how stubborn you were throughout your relationship, whether it was playful or in the middle of an argument, he constantly reminded you just how stubborn you were.

He shook his head, not bothering to hide the amusement on his face. “No, No. Trust me you make it very known.” He said, emphasising his words to make it clear that not only he, but everyone was aware of your stubbornness.

You smiled, “Being stubborn isn’t a bad thing, you know.” You mumbled, gently pulling your wrist away from his hold, not because you didn’t enjoy the touch but more-so because you felt an undying urge to cross your arms.

He hummed, looking down at you, “I didn’t say it was.”

You tilted your head, the same entertained look in your eye that mirrored his, “You inferred it.” You said, matter-of-factually, although he didn’t, not really. He actually didn’t give any hint to what he meant by his words, but you were okay with that. It kept things lighthearted, easy.

“You assumed.” He said in the same tone. “I didn’t infer anything, I simply made an observation.” He said, raising his eyebrow as if he was trying to figure out how you were going to find a way to reply — he assumed something witty, dramatic.

“Can you observe from elsewhere.. you’re still in my way”

He let out an amused laugh, “Im still waiting on that magic word” He said, clearly enjoying this and the light hearted banter between the two of you.

You rolled your eyes, in a huff of frustration you ramble, “You are creating a hostile work environment. I feel unsafe. I feel targeted and threatened. How do you feel about yourself, after treating me such a way? You are a horrible evil person. Im going to take this to corporate.” You babbled off into a dramatic tangent which only furthered Spencer’s amusement of the current situation.

“I feel pretty great actually.” He shrugged, you glared at him, staying in place for a moment to see if he would move, he didn’t, instead he continued smirking slightly. You groaned dramatically before turning on your heels and walking away. You could hear his laughter as you walked around the opposite direction to get where you wanted to go in the first place.

“I hate when my job actually requires me to do my job.” You huffed out, shaking your head as you tightened the straps of your vest. It wasn’t true, you loved your job, you loved what you did and that wasn’t a question. It was just the dramatics and the emphasis on how tired you were today, although that didn’t stop killers from killing, or kidnappers from kidnapping.

Unfortunately this case was particularly tough, it had taken an abundance of days to just figure out the victimology and connection because of how random the killings were, then it took another day to figure out the MO, then the profile was completed, then the next day, today, you had finally gotten the location of where the unsub was keeping his victims.

“Yeah, Such a struggle, poor you” Spencer mumbled out as he came up behind you, readjusting the straps on the back of your vest to make sure it was on properly, his voice was laced with tease, you just hummed in acknowledgment.

“Make sure you’re careful, and cautious.” Hotch reminded you. You didn’t think much of it at the time, it was the same reminder as always when catching an unsub, don’t do anything unnecessarily dangerous, don’t split up unless necessary, don’t put yourself in a situation that you cant get yourself out of, the words you had heard probably a million times.

You wished you paid closer attention this time.

You and Spencer walked through the house, it had an ominous feel to it, the air in the house was colder than outside, and it wasn’t a particularly warm day — but it wasn’t the temperature that made the house feel as cold as it did.

Instead it was the guttual sobs you heard from underneath the floorboards that made the hairs on the back of your neck stand, and goosebumps to line your arms. They weren’t sobs of pain, instead just ache, a cry so loud begging for someone to hear. Before that you were about to whisper a stupid joke to Spencer, now you felt as if you couldn’t breath.

“Stay here.” He whispered to you. There was something unfamiliar about the look in his eyes and any wit you could muster up was thrown out the window at the sound of his voice. It was a stupid request, you couldn’t just stay here in the hallway while he wandered around. You had a job to do.

When he turned the corner, gun pointed protectively, his movements were calculated and careful, every step he took he knew what he was doing, You thought you did too. The first step you took was quiet and your gun was pointed, your finger hovering over the trigger.

Spencer moved towards the sound of the sobs, you moved towards the living room, trying to clear the downstairs area of the house. There was a pull in your stomach for a number of seconds, a twist of anxiety you pushed to the side to focus on the matter at hand.

That didn’t last. Ignoring the feeling in your stomach turned into gasping at the feeling. A gasp of pain leaving your parted lips as you stumbled forward, the gun left your hand and hit the ground, the sound of the contact blurring as a ringing swindling sound took over your sense of hearing.

You were stabbed. You could feel the metal, more than you wanted to admit, you could feel the way it pressed into your skin, the coldness of it against the warmth of you. A sob of pain left your lips before you could help it. There was someone holding you, wrapping a tight arm around your chest and a hand over your mouth to silence your cry.

The arms weren’t comforting, in any sort of way. They were too tight, too suffocating for the lack of air you were able to breath in between the hand covering your mouth and the pain in your stomach, you wished adrenaline would kick in but it seemed to dwindle out as your head spun, then the knife was ripped away from your stomach.

That hurt.

More than it did when it first went in.

Then you were released from the mans arms and your body collapsed in pain, eyes squeezing shut as your hands scrambled to press against the open wound now bleeding out. You didn’t know where the unsub was, you didn’t hear footsteps, you didn’t really hear anything. Everything seemed blurry, not your sight so much since your eyes were squeezed shut but you could feel your mind blurring with every second that passed, any first aid training you had learnt flew out the window.

You missed it at first, the sound of the door opening, the sound of back up coming in, Derek, Emily. They were in the house now but not in the living room, not where you were lying on the floor in a helpless pool of your own blood. You wanted to yell out, or sob but every sound got stuck in your throat.

Then you felt a larger hand pressing on top of yours, placing more pressure against the wound than your tired arms had allowed, you made out frantic talking but nothing your half conscious mind could string together coherently. It didn’t matter, you could recognise the roughness of the gentle hand anywhere.

“Spencer” You gasped out, panting.

Had you been holding your breath? You didn’t remember but you knew breathing was getting more and more difficult.

His hand pressed against yours, other hand coming to brush hairs out of your face. “Im here. Can you open your eyes for me?” He almost begged, his voice gentle and reassuring and laced with panic even though he tried his hardest to remain calm for your sake.

You didn’t reply, only letting out strangled gasps for air, eyes remaining shut, squeezed tightly, as if the harder you squeezed them shut, the more your pain decreased. Unfortunately thats not how anatomy works.

“Open your eyes for me angel, look at me.” He now did beg. If you were conscious you would’ve given him a look for the use of the term of endearment in your current broken up state, but you could hardly process anything else he was saying, and you were bleeding out so there was clearly more important things.

You struggled, but after a moment peeled your eyes open to look at him. Vision was blurry and fading in and out even few seconds even when your eyes remained open, you couldn’t make out his features, you couldn’t see the tears he was trying to hold back. God you wished you could see his face.

“Good, thats good. Keep looking at me, Okay? We’re getting you help, you’re gonna be okay” He reassured but it was more of a slight reassurance for himself, trying to convince himself as such. His voice became a ringing in your ears, along with every other sound around you.

“Wh- Where- Is—“ You words came out mumbled, muffled by gasps for air and whimpers of pain. “He.” You finished, trying to keep your eyes open, trying to focus, trying to stay alive.

Spencer spluttered for a moment because he didn’t know— He had no idea. Whether the unsub was right behind him or whether they were being taken into custody by Derek or Emily, whether he was lying dead on the floor somewhere. Spencer didn’t know. He couldn’t. How could he focus on anything else?

“I don’t know” He said.

“Go away” You mumbled, eyes now fluttering closed, even in the state of half consciousness you knew Spencer was still in danger, more danger by keeping his back to his surroundings and his focus on you. That was putting himself in an unnecessarily dangerous situation.

He shook his head. “Im not going anywhere. Keep your eyes open.” He repeated.

“Spencer” You huffed out a breath of air, your eyes remaining closed because you were so tired. “Go. You- You aren’t— You aren’t my boyfriend anymore” You huffed out the words that came across way harsher than what you intended them, “Staying- With.. Me isn’t your.. Responsibilty” Your words came out laboured along with the way your chest rose and fell, the breaths that left your lips.

“Don’t say that. Open your eyes.” He shook his head as his other hand trailed down to your neck, fingers pressing against your pulse point. You couldn’t feel it, every part of you and every inch of his touch felt like a lingering sensation over the numbness of your body, your eyes remained shut.

“If i die” You huffed out, your voice quieter, more rushed as you tried to get more air in, “Please” You started before you let out a gentle sob, not of pain, you weren’t in pain, not anymore. “Please don’t let them use a bad— photo of me.. at..- my funeral”

It was the most you things to say before you stopped replying, before your body tensed slightly. To joke, to be playful at a time like this. Spencer wondered if it was an attempt to calm him down, to relax his mind a little bit, to sooth the ache in his soul with the wit that was unforgettably you.

The cream coloured walls seemed taunting, they were warmly lit, contrasting how cold the space felt, how daunting it was. There was different people scattered around, some crying, and grieving, some reading newspapers, others celebrating. There was really no contrast of emotions quite like a hospital waiting room.

“She just got out of surgery. Shes in the ICU.” Hotch said as he stood in front of the few members of the team that were sitting by waiting. Everyone wanted to stay at the hospital and wait throughout the time of your lengthy surgery, not everybody could.

“Is she okay?” Emily asked, sitting up a little straighter as Hotch spoke, Spencer remained silent in place, every part of his body relying on the ache in his chest to keep his heart beating. He didn’t know if he could form words even if he wanted to, he didn’t know if he could speak without his voice breaking.

Hotch was silent for a moment, which caused Spencer’s head to snap towards him in nothing but pure dread. Hotch realised and shook his head. “Shes— Shes fine. Shes alive. Shes still asleep, they said it could be a few hours before she wakes up. The surgery went fine - She will be okay” Hotch sounded relived as his spoke, an unfamiliar sense of emotion in his voice.

“Can I see her?” Spencer spoke urgently before he had even fully understood what he was saying. If he had thought about it for a moment more, he wouldn’t have bothered asking. He wasn’t oblivious to the inner workings of a hospital. ICU. Family members only.

Hotch seemed to know that Spencer already knew what the answer was, “Reid..” It came out regretful, apologetic, empathetic. Spencer didn’t reply, instead re-slumped back in his seat in defeat.

There was hours. Hours before you were awake. In those hours Spencer was nothing short of a mess. He tried to work, reading over case files, trying to summarise what had happened and then the memory of your blood painting his hands came back and he was left in a state of overwhelming thought.

“You alright, pretty boy?” Derek asked, despite the playfulness of his words, his tone was serious. It wasn’t a secret how much you meant to Spencer, it wasn’t a secret how much he cared about you. Spencer looked up from the hospital seat, the room had grown more absent of life as the hours passed, families came and went, the crying stopped and started again, the celebrations happened and passed. Yet spencer never stopped feeling so lost.

He shook his head, saying he was fine would be a lost cause to the knowingness of his best friend, and his current state. He was so evidently not all right that saying so would be humorous. His cheeks were flushed, hair a mess from the amount of times he had run his hand through it, tugged on the strands stressfully.

“You know what she said to me?” Spencer mumbled out as he pulled his gaze away to look at his fiddling hands, “She was laying on the floor, dying, and she told me to go away because I wasn’t her boyfriend anymore” Spencer huffed out the memory.

Derek sighed, taking a seat next to the mess of his best friend. “I don’t think she meant it like that. The situation was still dangerous and you were putting yourself at risk.” Derek said. Spencer wanted to cry.

“I know— I know. She said ‘it’s not your responsibility to stay with me anymore’ — I don’t— I can’t—” Spencer couldn’t articulate the emotions swamping his mind. Everything was overwhelming, every time he closed his eyes he saw you on the floor in a puddle of deep red blood, anytime his fingers remained still for too long it was like he could still feel your pulse running flat against them.

“Breathe.” Derek reminded as Spencer got himself worked up.

“I lost her— I lost her.” Spencer shook his head as the words came out, his hands pulling to his face to rub over his eyes, maybe as to hide the way they’d begun to water, maybe to feel anything besides the heat of his cheeks.

Derek sat up a little straighter to rub Spencer’s shoulder, “Shes okay. They said she will be fine. They just want to look over her for a while. She was in a tough surgery, I don’t know much about hospitals but I’m pretty sure being in the ICU means shes getting all the care she needs to recover better, and faster.” Derek tried to comfort.

“Its- No- I already lost her Derek. I was an idiot and I didn’t say anything — I didn’t say anything because I was scared of losing her and i lost her anyways.” He rambled, an overwhelming force of regret lingering in every word he gasped out.

“Your breakup? I thought that was mutual?” Derek furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. Spencer wanted to laugh, because technically it was. Technically they had both agreed, technically this is what he wanted as well.

He just wanted you.

“She wanted space— I thought.. I thought everything would be okay. Then she suggested we break up while things are still good enough for us to end on good terms and be friends. I just — I didn’t want to lose her; I wanted her to be happy and in my life so I didn’t say anything.. I- I settled for being friends because it meant — I thought it meant i still had her” Spencer was a mess and it was evident in the stammer of his words in the midst of his ramble.

“You don’t think you do?” Derek asked, Spencer shook his head as he brought his hand down to rub gently over his chin and bottom lip, a shaky breath leaving his lip’s. “I think you do.. I mean everyone does. You two still act like you’re together.” Derek said, furrowing his eyebrows.

Spencer sighed, “Thats just— Thats how it was before we started dating. Sometimes it feel’s like we are still together.” Spencer mumbled, Derek opened his mouth to speak, but Spencer cut him off. “Shes going to wake up, alone. Her family is in a different state and I’m not allowed to see her? I- This is bullshit.”

“Just say you’re her husband” Emily said, catching both of the boys off guard, they hadn’t heard her approaching. Spencer lifted his gaze from the ground to look at her, eyebrows furrowed. Any other time, if it was for any other person he would probably go over how that went against so many rules, but he couldn’t find himself caring.

Not when it came to you.

He broke protocol. He wondered how many times that had happened today as he sat beside you, his hand on of yours, thumb gently running over your knuckles as you laid still unconscious on the bed. He paid attention to the beeping of the machine, the rhythm of your heartbeat, making sure it stayed consistent like his life depended on it — like your life depended on it.

You mumbled something, causing his gaze to break away from the screen to your face, watching it twist slightly. Your eyes remaining closed, then your hand twisted to interlink your fingers with his. You were evidently in pain.

“Hey- Hey don’t move too much. Do you want me to get your nurse? They can give you some different meds” Spencer ushered gently, leaning closer to the bed as you stirred awake. He wasn’t sure if your lengthy amount of time spent unconscious was purely because of the antiseptic leaving your system or also the need for sleep but he was glad you were awake.

“No” You rasped out. Whatever medicine they had been pumping you with since you got out of surgery did its job. You weren’t necessarily in pain, just uncomfortable. Even with your eyes closed you could feel the brightness of the white hospital lights. You knew where you were.

Spencer squeezed your hand gently, making you now very aware that he was holding your hand. “What the fuck happened?” You huffed out, voice groggy and full of confusion. You knew where you were, you knew it was something that happened on the case, you knew you were stabbed, but everything after the knife made contact with your abdomen was a blur in your memory.

“You were stabbed.” He stated. You opened your eyes to glare at him, “Yeah- Spencer, no shit.” You shook your head, he smiled. “I just— Is everyone else okay?” You asked.

He nodded. Derek and Emily had saved all the victims and the unsub was in custody, he explained that to you softly, mapping out every detail so you could make it out enough in your mind to satisfy your need to know what was going on.

“Next time can you tell him to do better? This bed sucks” You referenced to the unsub stabbing you, and leaving you alive and uncomfortable. It was a joke. You tried to move without causing yourself any pain over the uncomfortable thin mattress of the hospital bed. Spencer smiled and let out a breathy half hearted laugh.

“I’ll be sure to let him know” He returned your playful tone but it was heavier, quieter. It was filled with something more, something unsaid. His eyes dropped from your to back to your hands that were twined together, rubbing his thumb gently over the webbing of your own.

You tilted your head slightly, “What’s wrong?” You asked, it didn’t take a genius to read Spencer. You had memories the is and out’s of his head, or you thought you did. You knew enough.

“I thought I lost you.” He said, shaking his head slightly. His voice was so quiet and filled with guilt. “We broke up and.. because of what? Because we didn’t want to lose each other— I almost lost you.” His words held so much gravity it felt like it had all been taken from your surroundings and you were floating on everything left unsaid and unfinished.

“But you didn’t. Im alive.” You smiled playfully. He said your name, serious, showing he wasn’t playing around about this, that it went further than just this situation. You sighed, and shook your head. There were only so many jokes you could make to downplay the weight of the space between you.

“Okay. We broke up.” You mumbled, looking at him. “Because things were weird and it was too much and if things kept going then if we ended later it wouldn’t be on good terms and then we wouldn’t be able to be friends and thats horrible for everyone” You said, recapping your mutual decision to break up.

“Why do you do that?” He asked, squinting his eyes as he looked up at you.

You furrowed your eyebrows, “Do what?” There was a number of things he could pull you up on, your avoidance, your jokes, your way of downplaying everything and anything.

“Plan the end of things when they have hardly started. You were planning a breakup for a relationship that was doing perfectly fine. You needed space, I gave you space, then you decided you wanted to break up? Why?” He huffed out.

You furrowed your eyebrows further at his words, but he was right. Of course he was right. “You said you felt the same.” You mumbled, maybe if he had called you on your bullshit a month ago things would be different and you would’ve worked things out, you two would be together and maybe everything would be different. You also knew it wasn’t his responsibility to try and understand emotions you couldn’t comprehend or communicate to him.

“I didn’t want space, I didn’t want to break up — but I didn’t want to lose you all together.” He admitted. You suddenly felt the wind knock out of your chest. You wondered if the way your heart beat increased showed on the monitor, which seemed all too revealing.

“You didn’t say that.” You muttered.

He sat up a little straighter, not letting go of your hand, his fingers stayed tangled with your own. “Would it have changed anything if i did?” His voice was quiet, as if a question that didn’t need an answer.

“It was going.. too fast” You huffed. The relationship did go fast, but maybe it was because the two of you spent way too many years in this flirty banter phase before either of you actually made a move; maybe because you were both already so comfortable with one another.

“We could have slowed it down.” He said, rebutting.

“And if that didn’t work? If it was all just too much? Then we argue and we end on bad terms and then not only is it awkward for everyone at work but then we can’t even be friends” You repeated your point, the fear engraved in your mind.

“What if it did work?” He shut you up with his point, before he continued. “What if it did work and then everything was fine. What if you told me when things are getting too much or overwhelming you and we work together to fix those issues so we don’t end at all.”

“That’s optimistic.” You mumbled sarcastically. Everything he was saying made sense, everything he was saying was ideally how a relationship would go, but it wasn’t as simple as that for you. You couldn’t help the way your mind thought the worst.

Spencer huffed shaking his head, “You’re stubborn.” He said. And he never let you forget it.

“Im realistic.” You resorted, but you weren’t: You hyper fixated on everything that could go wrong and got yourself out of those situations before giving anything a chance to work out itself.

“You’re an idiot. And I love you.” Spencer exhaled. It wasn’t a crazy love confession because you knew this. He made it known everyday. Even everyday you were broken up. He didn’t need to hide it. “Can you give us a chance? A proper chance without planning our breakup before theres any actual reason for it, please.” He mumbled, half playfully and half so serious.

You considered his words. Honestly your last thought before falling unconscious was the fear that you would die without Spencer knowing how much you loved him, how much regret you lived with for the state you had got yourself into with him, the fear you had of not having him in some way, none of these thoughts you could voice aloud when dying.

“Okay.” You settled.

“Okay?” He asked, repeating it back as if he didn’t believe you. You nodded, repeating it again. He breathed out a sigh of relief.

“Okay good, because everyone on this floor thinks I’m your husband and it would’ve been really awkward if you just rejected me.”

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ma1dita · 6 months

Text

now that we're older

a 'partners in crime' installment - luke castellan x dionysus!reader

words: 3.5k

summary: (established relationship) The one where he asks if you can stay the night even if all of cabin 11 makes fun of him. Luke is tired of the routine. He just needs his girl. (Luke Castellan x fem!Dionysus!reader)

a/n: its really something about me always posting at 4am.... listened to three songs on a loop while writing and they were all called ‘older’. 5sos-> gracie abrams-> lizzy mcalpine—this works for the trajectory of trouble & luke if you give it a listen; anyways you guys deserve the fluff. PLEASE TELL ME THIS IS HAPPY (ignore the...tinge of angst) BUT THIS IS HAPPY RIGHT? RIGHT? scream at me in the comments & enjoy <3

(posted 3/26/24, semi-edited)

—

Luke lets you love him in the nighttime.

It’s not to say that you don’t love him every second of the day and then some, but he’s much softer at night, weathered down and stripped of the many roles he carries. Maybe it’s the weight from the responsibility of being an all-star cabin counselor or the bone-deep ache of being camp’s best swordsman, perhaps even the ailment of being Hermes’ favorite forgotten son—but he endures until the night where he can lay it all down and be nothing but yours.

And you let him.

The mask usually starts to fall apart during dinner when he comes to sit at your table— besides the extra space, Luke likes intentionally knocking his knees against yours, the hand not holding his fork squeezing the inside of your thigh. He’s more open and receptive to your doting by the time the sun sets, fiddling with the hem of your camp shirt on the walks to the bonfire, letting you hang off his arm as you sidestep each other’s feet, hip to hip in hushed giggles. Whether it be chatty campers running through attempts at kisses, Chiron and Mr. D accidentally interrupting your loving glances, or occasional interference from the gods above, there’s only so many ways to be together in the in-between.

Tonight he’s yawning as he places his head on yours from behind, the both of you watching all your campers file out towards the amphitheater. A gentle smile graces your face and he’s warm all over, arms caging around your chest as you lightly sway against the summer breeze.

“You okay, angelface?”

Humming in response, he lowers his cheek to yours and whispers a proposition.

“Wanna skip the bonfire? Like how we used to…”

Turning to face him, your nose bumps against the scar on his cheek, and he feels the teeth of your smile on his skin as you mumble, “That was before cabin 7 needed an understudy for special requests, babe.”

“You could still sing for me. I’ll even clap if you want,” he muses before warbling out a few off-key notes to your favorite song until you’re a mess of giggles under him, fingers reaching up to cover his lips.

“That’s terrible,” you say between fits of laughter, until your eyes meet Percy and Grover’s wandering ones, “Hey! You two ready for your quest tomorrow?” Luke’s hold on you falters into an afterthought, fingers playing with your belt loops as the boys walk to the center of the clearing to meet you two.

He thinks about his little sister going on a quest to prove herself to her mother, even if it’s not her own cross to bear. He thinks about the satyr risking his life to protect another demigod who follows in his footsteps, and finally his dark eyes land on the sandy-haired boy destined to get caught in the crossfire. Luke’s feet feel heavy as if they’re cemented to the ground, and when you step away to greet the boys, he stays where he is. You misinterpret it for his fatigue, which is only part of what’s weighing on his mind.

“Luke? Go on ahead, I’ll cover for you. Get some rest.” But he can’t sleep without you; the times he’s tried are met with a touch of darkness only you can will away. He wants to hold on to you for as long as he can— Luke’s always been more vulnerable in the nighttime, with or without you.

Later he finds himself staring at the ceiling of his cabin, thrashing in the twin bed against the back wall as he rests his eyes and tries to get comfortable. There are reminders of you wherever he looks, gauzy white curtains strung up around his bed like swirling clouds, pictures of the both of you pinned to the worn walls of Hermes’ refuge for the unclaimed, and though he’s always known his heritage—the way he can pick out your voice through the sound of all the others that file in reminds him who his heart belongs to. Luke shuts his eyes until he feels your lips on his forehead, balmy from your berry chapstick with a hint of your smile. He murmurs your name sleepily, but your hands tickle his torso as you lift the hem of his shirt up.

“Woah there, keep it PG. There are children here!” Travis says mockingly, and the sound of giggles and shuffling sheets fills the room as everyone gets ready for bed. There’s a resounding thud that follows and that makes him open his eyes.

“Mind out of the gutter, Stoll! You know your brother overheats at night,” you mutter, and his hands are already ghosting your hip in silent confirmation. Tearing your lavender gaze from Travis who’s spitting out feathers from across the way, you look down at him and mumble, “Sleepy, angelface? They’ll do cabin checks soon and then it’s lights out.”

“Don’t wanna sleep without you. I can wait,” he slurs, saying your name slowly like he’s spelling it out. Luke looks at you blearily when he sits up, rubbing the drowsiness from his eyes as he pulls his shirt off from the nape of his neck. When the orange fibers lift from his vision, he sees you in sleepwear (all stolen from his closet, just the way he likes it) and your face shiny with skincare.

“Was gonna get you ready for bed, babe. Got Lee to cover for me tonight and Beck and Katie are on morning shift. Wanna go to mine?”

He knows he should. The both of you never play hooky, not since taking up your counselor positions 3 years ago. Luke doesn’t remember the last time either of you were in bed before midnight and up before 6 the next morning. Never on purpose at least—the surprise jolts him awake a little as he cocks his head at you curiously.

“Got off the hook, Trouble?”

The question makes you bite your lip, “You’re acting surprised. Something told me you needed it.” He flops back down on the worn mattress, far too soft with age that his back tweaks a little when he moves over for you and pats the space you’ll take up. It’s his though—even if it doesn’t have his name on it, and for once he just wants to sleep in here with his girl like everything is right in the world (and ignore that he’s about to tear it all up). He thinks he might actually miss this cabin, the sound of his scuffling siblings, the way things quickly disappear and reappear at the change of hands in this community of outcasts, but most of all, he’s going to miss you and how you can settle them down with a single hush.

“Can we stay here tonight? Too comfy. Never get to admire the little setup you made for me here since we’re in 12 so often.”

“M’not going anywhere, my love,” you whisper as you push back the curtains, climbing into his bed to cuddle against him, but he shifts so that his head is on your chest. Luke’s hugging you like he’s a weighted blanket, and he strings a garland of kisses along your collarbone leading up to the space over your heart. Running your hands through his hair, you sing to him quietly until lights out, not even noticing the change while you’re looking at each other eye to eye. No one laughs at your lullaby, the sound of your voice tucking the rest of the cabin to sleep.

Almost losing consciousness again, his cheek shakes with the giggle that rises from your chest as you whisper, “Didn’t know you put our camp prom photo up on your wall. We look like we hate each other.”

“You were so mad because I kept stepping on the bottom of your dress. Had to get your attention somehow,” he chuckles, before tightening his hold on you, “I knew I liked you already by then, too. Wasted too much time trying to get Chiron in a prom dress with the boys that I didn’t get the chance to ask you to dance.”

“Ended up on a bead though. Is that what that memory tells you, angelface?”

“You’re my favorite memory, Trouble,” he sighs, muscles relaxing at the feeling of your fingertips tracing stars into the planes of his back. Then hearts. A squiggle of something you tell him is obviously a centaur, which makes his brows furrow, before he kisses your chin when you spell out your name. Slowly, like you want him to remember it. He does.

“I’m still here, silly—pretty sure to be a memory, time has to take me away first. Not letting that happen. Me and you forever if I can help it,” you say breathily, voice tinged with sleep and so much love for him that feels like it chokes you, but that might just be the angle of your neck as you try to look down at him again. Dopamine lines your system at his words, and you let out a strained sigh—lovesick and heady with the feeling.

“I know but you’re in all my favorite ones too. When I think of you, everything’s better. Like I didn’t eternally fuck up my fate before I even turned 20,” he jokes, and like a lot of them, they fall flat. You hope that by wrapping your legs around him Luke will know how much you want to crawl into his skin and hold his heart to protect it. That with you, he won’t ever have to be alone. Words are never enough, after all. Even if you have nothing you need to prove, it won’t stop you from trying to show him.

“Still a few weeks off, so don’t try your luck. There are worse fates than falling in love with you, Luke Castellan.”

He turns from the wall at the sound of that, wanting to disagree, but you kiss him before he can protest.

“I’m the lucky one. Sometimes I think loving you was the only thing I did right,” he murmurs, before drifting off. You’re the last thing he looks at before he goes to sleep, the way he likes it—like a longstanding memory he gets to keep before he’s vulnerable again in his dreamstate. He’s the strongest when you’re with him, and his brain goes quiet. No one dares to break him when he’s with you like this.

Not a dream, nor a titan.

You can't imagine sleeping another night without this crick in your neck with his name on it, the shape of him pressed into your body. With only the moon as your witness, you whisper words of devotion, sneak featherlight kisses wherever you can reach, and hope that they get to your love, wherever his mind is right now.

“I love you, I love you, I love you…”

—

You let him love you in the mornings.

Even unknowingly, it seems. On a normal day, your alarm would ring and you’d sleepily pat Luke (his face, chest, whatever part of him you could reach with your eyes closed) so he could shut it off. He’d let you sleep in a couple extra minutes (somewhere between 5-10) before pulling you from unconsciousness with a hug.

This morning, with no alarms ringing in his ears Luke finds that he wakes up a little before you anyway. Down to his circadian rhythm, you’ve affected him, and he takes it with an upwards quirk of his lip as he squints at the sunlight through the sheer curtains that brush against your arms. He watches you delicately, even with the sounds of a lively morning filling the cabin—everyone up and ready for the day while you two are wrapped in your little bubble. It’s a stupid thought that crosses his mind, but a coherent one nonetheless; jealousy fills his chest at the sight of sunlight kissing every inch of your skin that he can only try to reach. He runs his hands from where they’re tucked underneath your waistband to the expanse of your back, and over your shoulders until you’re humming under your breath, midway out of a dream.

Luke takes an extra moment to admire the way you latch onto him and he finds it almost frustrating how everyone from the gods above to the demigods at Camp Half-Blood down to the powers that damn him to Tartarus know you’re his biggest weakness. It’s almost unfair how you’re his strength too— the sheath that reminds him not to cut, the control behind his unbridled rage that heats up the back of his neck like a brand but instead of feeling fire, he feels sunlight.

You search for him in every sunrise, light refracting through your irises until a smile settles on your cheeks like you want to say, “Yes, I’m here with you. ”

“Good morning, pretty girl.”

The both of you shifted during the night, almost as if in a dance of limbs and dreams, and somehow you’re nestled against his side and using his bicep as a pillow. It flexes as Luke raises his arm to brush the hair away from your face, when you kiss his scar and mumble, “Did we miss breakfast?”

“Almost over, but we can just grab something from the kitchens. Surprised everyone left us alone, actually,” he says thoughtfully, “the kids might’ve already left for their quest.” He likes watching you reorient yourself into the land of the living, before you step into your boots of being head counselor, before you put on the facade of being the perfect demigod—the protector and glue of Camp Half-Blood.

“Mmhm… was gonna offer my lighter to Percy and them last night for protection, but he was wearing your shoes. You gave them to him?”

Luke wipes drool from the side of your lip, watching you kiss his thumb in thanks with no thought as it was as easy as breathing. A half smile splits through the scar on his face as he says, “He’s gonna need them. For luck.” You lift your upper body up and look at him, hair forming a halo around your face and you sniff, “But you loved those shoes. Gift from your dad aside, I know they’re one of your prized possessions.”

He coaxes you back into his arms as he shifts up and leans against the wall. Prying eyes would think you’re hugging, sitting heart to heart on the small mattress.

“Annie didn’t take your lighter?”

He knows you’re rolling your eyes against his shoulder, feeling your fingers clutch at his curls to pull him away to look at you. You look at him knowingly and say, “Stop trying to change the subject. Anyways, Annie said if we help them anymore she’ll think we don’t trust them enough to come back alive.”

“I mean it when I say you’re all I care about. Shoes… None of it matters.”

“What I care about is how you used to love flying around in those things. Even if you pissed me off a lot with them too,” you say, and the both of you laugh. They were a consolation from his dad after his quest, probably the closest thing to an apology (or even a “hello, glad you’re alive!”) he’d ever gotten from Hermes. Though the scar on his cheek was more than enough of a reminder of that—he didn’t touch the shoes until a few months after, when you taught him how to drive. Luke propositioned you promising to take you out on a spin once, and you thought he meant the car…

“You loved them more than I did,” he grins, and you recoil and slap his chest.

“You flung me onto the roof of the dining pavilion, Luke.”

“It was an accident! Plus it did make cabin checks go faster…Once I got the hang of them,” he snorts, deciding to pull you to stand. Batting away the curtain, he’s sliding into his slippers and Luke helps you step onto his feet and you groan into his chest, “What are you doing? M’gonna break your toes, Lu—”

“Shhh…I’m the strongest guy you know. Can handle anything for ya.”

He backs the both of you up to the center of the cabin, spinning you in slow circles to an imaginary beat. One hand around your waist and the other interlaced with yours as your smile feels like sun beaming through a window as you ask, “How did I ever get so lucky to fall in love with you, Luke Castellan?”

You’ll never tell him, but that’s the only thing you’ll be ever grateful to Hermes for.

He shakes his head in astonishment as he whispers, “I love you, you know that?” It hurts his head if he thinks too hard—how does a love so intoxicating manifest as something so gentle? How can he be powered by your love but still fueled by hate? How can he be both damned and saved by you? Luke wonders if his thoughts even break the surface of how busy the mind of a daughter of Dionysus is—to know insanity in love, and still be able to welcome it with open arms.

“Beats prom, huh? Am I a good dance partner?”

You tilt your head, tongue in cheek as you gaze at your boy like he’s said something stupid, and though it’s been a year and change, you hope the fluttery feeling Luke gives you will never go away. With him, you never have to pretend—never needing to mince your words or soften the blow. You’ve never felt more yourself than how you feel hand in hand with him.

“We’ve always been good partners, me and you.”

He sways you in the momentary quiet of cabin 11 as you step away and hold the bottom of your (his) shirt out like the frills of a skirt, and Luke raises your arm overhead and then you’re spinning, spinning, spinning…

The front door swivels open, and Chris peeks his head in.

“Hey lovebirds, sorry to interrupt but Sword and Shield is starting soon, and Clarisse still has your names on the roster…”

You both sigh.

“You signed up for offense?”

“And you signed up for defense, so don’t look at me like that, Trouble…”

Instantly the two of you harden your stances, parrying at each other’s torsos with hands as your swords until you try to make a run for it and drag Chris behind you to use him as a human shield.

“Hey! Oof—”

Moving as quick as a bullet, Luke accidentally knocks the wind out of his brother who’s now hunched over as you laugh at him like a madwoman.

“You two are going to have weirdly violent children one day,” Chris huffs, before stepping back towards the door, “See ya in 30!”

Cheeks reddening at his brother’s comment, Luke crosses his arms and takes a good look at you, bathing in the light of the open doorway and looking like the rest of his life.

“Well, back to work. Bit too good to be true, huh babe?”

“For now,” he says thoughtfully, “Summer will be over soon though. Gonna get quieter around here for sure…”

You’re already stepping off the front porch walking backwards as you grin, throwing your arms up in the air as you make your way across the path to your cabin to get ready for the day. You’d hate to leave camp—it's as true as your love for performing, caring for others, and most especially, him. He knows it because he knows you, and unlike most things, that’s never going to change.

Not if he can help it.

“Summer doesn’t last forever. But we’ll still have the fall, the winter, and whatever’s next…me and you.”

You’re yelling to him over the railing of your porch and he nods his head at you, turning away before you speak again, “Maybe one day when we’re older!”

“What was that baby?”

Looking at Luke like you already have it all planned out in your head, you say softer, “Kids. If that’s what’s in the cards for us. Though I do like practicing…”

Instantly he cracks up but nods, because there’s no future he can conceive without you being in it. There’s a serious turn in his response and it makes your heart beat out of your chest.

“Anything you want. You know I don’t leave anything up to fate. Not glory, not you.”

Everything you touch turns into gold, and he hopes somehow he would too. Two sides of the same coin, striving for a good ending, one worth remembering—one to last forever.

You get to love each other in the in-between, when time can’t get in the way. The clock is always ticking though, rattling against his brain as a reminder.

Luke just wants to make sure there’ll come a day where there’ll be no more interruptions.

—

“When is a monster not a monster? Oh, when you love it. Oh, when you used to sing it to sleep.” Caitlyn Siehl

½ luke taglist: @kissingyourgrl @dorcas4meadowes @lorarri @andrewgarfldsgf @noodlesketchbook @10ava01@poppysrin@ashisabitgay @timhalamet @liv1104 @leeknows-wife @mxtokko @bugcuti3 @luvvfromme @midmourn @2hiigh2cry @yuminako @niktwazny303 @lukecastellandefender @intergalactic-padawan @iliketopgun @annybah @dangelnleif @thegrinningghost @alyssajunelle @obxstiles @m00ng4z3r@visndcaitswhore @b0ok-lover @elegant-face-tree @this-barbie-is-having-breakdowns @amortencjja @idonevenknow1359 @maliaaaa @targaryenluvs @sakyira @dhdjdjjdhsjdiri

#luke castellan x reader #percy jackon and the olympians #pjo x reader #trouble!verse #made by ma1dita ♥︎#luke castellan fluff

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saythenametotheworld · 1 month

Text

Risk | l.jn [1]

Genre: college au; crush-at-first-sight Synopsis: Firmly convinced that Love-at-First-Sight is a hoax, you never expected to be proven wrong when the universe decided to throw you, quite literally, into Lee Jeno's lap. Pairing: NCT Lee Jeno x Reader Warnings: slow burn—I know, classic Cali work. Notes: Can I interest you with another two-part fic that's also a slow burn? No? Alright. Here's the first 14.7k words! Song prompt was Risk by Gracie Abrams <3 (btw i did not proofread this)

[Part 2]

You first met Jeno Lee on a particularly cool autumn afternoon. The kind of day where the wind carried a crispness that hinted at the coming winter, and the leaves crunched underfoot in vibrant shades of red, orange, and gold. The public library—where you spent most of the school break had always been quiet, but today, it was more silent than usual, the heavy wooden doors muffling the outside world’s chill.

You found yourself in the farthest corner of the library, where the oldest books resided, their spines faded and worn from years of eager hands. You stepped onto a ladder, reaching for a book that had been buried on the highest shelf, just out of reach. The book wasn’t anything special, except for the pretty spine and an interesting title that piqued your curiosity.

Your fingertips brushed the spine, but as you tried to pull it free, it resisted. Frowning, you gave it a stronger tug, unaware that on the other side of the shelf, someone else had their fingers wrapped around the very same book.

Thinking it was simply stuck in the array, you tried again, exerting all of your strength on one last tug. The book suddenly gave way, sending you off balance. Your heart leaped into your throat as you toppled backward, the ladder slipping beneath your feet. You had just enough time to gasp before you felt yourself falling, bracing for the cold, hard floor to meet you.

But instead of hitting the ground, you landed in something warm and solid. Strong arms caught you, holding you securely as you blinked up in surprise, your breath coming in short.

And that’s when you saw him.

It felt like the world had shifted into a dreamy haze—one of those cinematic moments when time slows down as the female lead and her love interest lock eyes for the first time. The world seemed to blur around you, blocking out everything and everyone, and sweet background music was playing in your head.

His eyes were the first thing you noticed—deep and warm, dark brown in color, flecked with gold that seemed to catch the light in just the right way. His dark hair fell in soft waves across his forehead, slightly tousled, as if he’d just run his fingers through it. His jawline was sharp, but softened by the slight smile that curved his lips as he looked down at you.

He was effortlessly handsome, in the kind of way that made your heart skip a beat and your stomach flip all at once.

“Are you okay?” he asked, his voice warm and soothing, with a hint of genuine concern.

“Huh?” you questioned, your own voice sounding like a switch that abruptly snapped you back to reality. The dreamy haze dissipated, and you were left with the stark, embarrassing reality of the moment. You realized you were still cradled in his arms, your hands resting against his chest. Your face flushed as you scrambled to get down, muttering apologies.

“Woah, careful,” he said as he gently set you back on your feet, his hands lingering on your arms for just a second longer than necessary.

“I’m sorry about that,” you managed to stammer, your voice barely above a whisper. “The uh… the book! It was stuck.”

“Yeah, you almost got hurt there,” he smiled, a slow, genuine smile that made your heart flutter.

You glanced down at the book he was holding—the one you’d been reaching for, and then back up at him, a blush creeping into your cheeks. “Thanks. For catching me. And for this.”

He chuckled softly, and the sound was like music, smooth and easy. “No problem. I just happened to pass by.”

“Well, lucky me,” you replied, chuckling bashfully. For a moment, you both stood there, the library around you fading into the background. There was something in his gaze, a spark of recognition that made you feel like you knew each other, even though this was the first time you’d met.

Is this the part where you tell him your name? Maybe not? Shouldn’t he be asking for yours?

“Right. See you around then,” he said while you were busy thinking to yourself. Before you could gather your wits to say anything back, he gave you an acknowledging nod and walked away.

You stood there, dumbfounded, watching him go. It wasn’t until he disappeared around the corner that you realized you should have asked for his name. Your heart was racing, and you were feeling a mix of gratitude and something else, something that made your cheeks warm and your thoughts scatter.

You kept wondering who he was, where he was from, and if he lived in town. His image haunted your thoughts, making it hard to focus on anything else. At night, you lay in bed, replaying the scene, his warm eyes and gentle smile etched into your memory.

Who was he? And why did your heart feel like it was doing somersaults? Clearly, you should know by now what that means: you have a huge, massive, gigantic crush on this guy. And you don’t even know his name yet!

Funnily enough, you never saw him again after that. In the remaining days of your break, you frequented the library, asked your friends about him, and even went on night outs hoping he’d show up. But you had no luck. Was it really possible not to see each other again after that day? Maybe he didn’t live there. Your town was small, the kind of place where everyone knows everybody. There was no way you wouldn’t have known if someone like that lived nearby. Maybe he was just passing through.

That was probably it. As you traveled back to the city for the start of the semester, you knew you would never see him again. It might be easier to think he didn’t exist at all. It was a little frustrating, but you decided to let it go.

Yet it seemed like the universe wasn’t ready for you to let it all go.

On one particularly cold and rainy afternoon, you stood outside a diner in the city, frantically waving your hand at a taxi cab. Your umbrella might have been keeping your head dry, but the strong gusts of wind blew tiny drops of rain all over your jeans and boots. After several occupied taxis passed by, seeing one finally pull over in front of you almost made you cry with joy.

“Apartment X on 46th Street, please,” you told the driver as soon as you slid inside, barely managing to close the door behind you. You sighed in relief, your heart slowing down as the warm air of the cab wrapped around you.

But just as you were about to settle in, the door was suddenly yanked open. Startled, you glanced back, and your breath caught in your throat.

A man peeked his head into the cab, his messy hair plastered to his forehead, drenched from the rain. But despite his soaked appearance, that smile was unmistakable—a smile you easily recognized even after all this time. The rain pounded against the cab roof, but all you could hear was the sound of your own heartbeat, echoing in your ears.

Jeno’s smile widened as he took in your surprised expression. “Sorry to barge in like this, but it’s pouring out here. Mind if I share the cab with you?”

“Sure,” you said softly, audible enough for him to slide into the seat next to you. You caught a whiff of his perfume—fresh, woodsy, intoxicating. Instinct made you scoot over slightly, trying to make room without seeming too eager.

The cab started moving, and silence filled the space between you. You could feel your pulse quicken as you stole glances at him, but he seemed oblivious, focused instead on his phone. He looked just as handsome as you remembered—maybe even more so—though it had only been a few months since you last saw him. Somehow, it felt like you were seeing him for the first time. And there was something in his demeanor that sent a sinking feeling to your stomach.

He didn’t remember you.

You were sure of it now. The way he had smiled, the casual politeness in his tone, all pointed to a simple truth—you were just another stranger sharing a cab on a rainy day.

You knew you should say something—anything. Start some small talk, maybe a simple “hi.” Would that be weird? It shouldn’t be, right? You’re sharing a space, after all, and a small one at that. You could remind him of the time he caught you in his arms like you were in a rom-com flick or something.

Making friends had always been easy for you, but with him, every conversation starter seemed silly or wrong, and the fear of making a bad impression held you back. What if he thought you were odd for remembering? What if he didn’t care?

Then again, how could you possibly form a deeper connection with him if you wouldn’t even talk to him? Was he really so attractive to leave you dumbfounded each time? You took a peek to confirm and ended up meeting his gaze when you glanced at each other at the same time. You smiled meekly before quietly looking away.

The answer was simply a ‘yes’.

Your thoughts were interrupted by the taxi driver’s voice. “Where to, young man?” he asked, glancing back at Jeno.

Jeno appeared to think for a second. “Is the road to NCIT still inaccessible?”

Your ears perked up at the mention of your university. Did he go there too?

“I don’t think so,” the driver replied, shaking his head slightly. “But I’ll try to get as close as possible. Taco Bell near the intersection alright with you?”

“That would be good, thanks.”

Your mind raced with questions. Does he go to NCIT too? You could ask him about it, maybe bring up the sinkhole that had appeared on the road near campus a few days ago. But once again, your nerves got the better of you. All you could do was scroll through your phone, pretending to be engrossed in social media as you tried not to gawk at him.

The cab came to a stop sooner than you expected. You noticed Jeno shifting beside you, preparing to get out.

“Thanks a lot,” he told the driver, handing over his fare. Then, to your surprise, he turned to you with a warm smile. “Thanks to you too. Stay warm.”

And just like that, he was gone. The door clicked shut, and you were left in the backseat, feeling mild annoyance and disappointment. You stared at the space where he had just been, your thoughts swirling with frustration.

Seriously? You thought to yourself, trying to keep the frustration from bubbling over. You’d let him slip away without saying anything. Ugh, how could you be so awkward? A tiny part of you wanted to throw a little tantrum and scold yourself at the same time.

As the cab started moving again, you slumped back in the seat, watching the rain streak down the windows. It was a little bit of a letdown, but you sighed and shook your head, deciding to laugh it off. He was just a fleeting, unexpected moment in your otherwise uneventful day. A quick ray of sunshine, maybe.

In itself, it was a relief to know that he was in the same city. Hunting him down should be easy. For now, you’d just have to let this go and move on.

“No, you’re not—” Sienna gestured quote marks in the air. “—‘hunting him down’, whatever that means.

“Why not?” you whined, slumping back on your bed.

Your flatmate sighed in exasperation, crossing her hands over her chest as she stared you down. “It’s weird and stalkerish. Get to know him like a normal human being.”

You had told her about Jeno, from the first encounter with him back in your hometown to the cab ride with him earlier that day. “That’s the thing. I can��t because I don’t know him at all. I don’t even have his name,” you told her.

“Yes, and you’re an idiot for that,” she chastised, sitting next to you on the bed.

You groaned, narrowing your eyes at the ceiling. “You are absolutely correct,” you said, shutting your eyes as you flail your hands in the air.

“Let it go. If he does go to NCIT, then you’ll see him again and you’ll talk to him like a proper girl,” said Sienna, tapping the space between your eyebrows.

Normally, if something like that happened to you, you would just let it go. Not that it has happened before, but if it did, you would just let it go. Not this one. You can’t. Somehow, you were convinced that you crossed paths with him for a reason.

So, against Sienna’s advice, you hunted him down. It was outside a diner where you met him again, and he got off near your university. Assuming you were around the same age, he most probably went to NCIT too.

“If he was, you would’ve met him already,” said Sienna, alluding to your congenial personality and tendency to befriend just anyone.

“That’s the thing! I do not know him, so he’s probably a new student. If he isn’t, then he’s probably from the Sci-Tech building,” you told her.

“Sci-Tech? Why Sci-Tech?”

You looked at her like the answer to her question should be obvious enough. “Because I don’t go there.”

Sienna snorted. “Your deduction skills are spot on,” she said sarcastically.

There was only one place in uni that you never frequented, the Science and Technology building. It was because you had no reason to go there. That building was for NCIT’s specialized programs, which were programs in Natural Sciences and Technology. It housed departments like Engineering and Mathematics, Biology, Computer Sciences, and the like. As a Foreign Languages student, you have everything you need and everywhere you have to be in both the Arts and Social Sciences building. There was no reason to go elsewhere. But that might change if your suspicion turns out to be right.

So as soon as Monday rolled in, you headed to the said building with one goal in mind—to see if your mystery man was there. The halls weren’t entirely unfamiliar; you’d seen them before during your freshman tour of the campus. But the faces were new, unfamiliar, and you found yourself smiling at those you recognized.

The task was simple—look around, find out if Jeno’s there, get to know him, and done. If you happened to bump into your friends from this building, you’d tell them you were looking for them. No way were you going to let anyone know you were on a “hunt” for a boy.

“Are you lost?” said a guy’s voice from behind you.

You sighed and rolled your eyes before turning to face him. Smiling, you said, “I was just looking for you, Renjun.”

Renjun cocked an eyebrow at you. “Why? What did you do?”

You clutched your chest, pretending to be offended. “Nothing? I just came to see you. Lunch is on me today.”

His face softened but he still scoffed. “Why didn’t you just text me instead of coming all the way here?”

“I had to remind you because you’re old and forgetful,” you joked, falling into step beside him as he started walking.

“I’m not old and forgetful,” he muttered, though you just giggled, clinging onto his arm.

Your eyes scanned the halls, peeking into classrooms, but there was no sign of Jeno so far. Meanwhile, Renjun was complaining about Haechan and Yangyang spreading the flu virus all weekend.

“Thank God they’re okay now,” he grumbled. “I can’t last another day babying those grownups.”

“Why don’t you kick them out?” you said absentmindedly.

Renjun hummed as if seriously considering the idea. “I would if I could pay all 1500 by myself. Even the rent is annoyingly expensive.”

“Then why not move to the on-campus dorm?” you suggested, though you knew he was just complaining for the sake of it.

“It sucks.”

Just as you rounded the corner to the stairs, you spotted Jeno in the crowd. You gasped softly, your heart doing a little flip. There he was, just as handsome as he had been last weekend. You were right, after all—he really was from this building.

You watched him from a distance, talking animatedly to a few other students in front of an open classroom. You couldn’t help but stare, your heart doing a little flip as you took in his easy smile and the way he casually leaned against the doorway like he belonged there—like he belonged everywhere. Nothing of note could be said about his good looks, except that he continued to be as handsome as he did last weekend. He laughed along with the rest of his classmates, eyes crinkling cutely.

“What are you staring at?” Renjun asked, following your gaze. “Ah, I knew you had ulterior motives for coming here. Which one is it? Hyunjin? Jeno? Soobin?”

You glanced back at Renjun, grinning from ear to ear. “Which one is Soobin?”

He scoffed. “You came all the way here and you don’t even know his name?”

“I know Hyunjin,” you said, shaking your head. You pointed at the guy in the grey hoodie. “That one. Is that Soobin?”

“That’s Jeno Lee.”

You gasped, covering your mouth in mock shock. “His name is Jeno? Oh my god! It suits him so well.”

“And? Did you come here for him?” Renjun asked, raising an eyebrow as he peered at Jeno and his group. “Should I call him over?”

“No!” you exclaimed, quickly tugging him back. “Do you two know each other?”

He nodded. “Yeah, he’s Jaemin’s friend from high school.”

At this point, your smile was probably blinding Renjun with how bright it was. But before you could pester him for more details, he slipped away with a quick wave, escaping to his classes.

Information was easy to obtain from your friends. Barely a day had passed but you have learned all the important things you needed to learn about him. He was new at the university, having enrolled here only last semester. Four months ago, he was dating this cute girl from Biology but they broke up only a month later. No one knew why, but they did break up. He used to play basketball and still does. He’s an Electronic Engineering student and is said to be very intelligent. You also found out that he currently shares an apartment with Jaemin and Mark.

That night, you lay on your bed, phone in hand, scrolling through his profile. He was active on it, posting mostly about his workouts in his Stories and getting tagged in posts by friends. He played basketball for his previous school and based on the posts and comments from his friends, he was great at it. There were pictures of him with his team, others mid-game, looking focused and determined. There were also pictures of him just hanging out with lots of different people; some faces were recurring, but it was mostly different people.

You couldn’t help but wonder if this was how all crushes felt—silly and intense all at once, like a tiny spark that refused to fizzle out.

“I wonder if he’s as nice as he seems,” you thought, your heart fluttering as you looked at a photo of him laughing with his friends. His smile was the same one that had made your heart skip a beat the first time you saw it.

You tapped on the profiles of his friends, searching for clues about Jeno’s life. It was easy to tell which ones were close to him, and which ones weren’t. You even scrolled through the profiles of girls who seemed too close to him in pictures, hoping he wasn’t dating any of them. Based on your little “research”, he is single right now with plenty of admirers commenting on his photos.

You noted every detail, hoping to find common interests. His love for basketball intrigued you, and maybe you could strike up a conversation about it if you ever got the chance. Well, that is if you even knew a thing about basketball. You weren’t a big fan of the sport, but you would be if it was Jeno playing. If he was on your school’s basketball team, you would have joined the cheer squad. You didn’t have the skill for it, but you would have tried nonetheless.

A soft sigh escaped your lips as you let your imagination run wild. You closed your eyes, allowing the faint light from your phone to fade into the darkness of your room. Images of Jeno’s smile and the sound of his voice played in your mind like a cherished memory. The idea of seeing him again made your heart swell with excitement, looking forward to the next few days.

Then, realizing how far down the rabbit hole of your crush you’d fallen, you couldn’t help but laugh at yourself. “Get it together,” you murmured, shaking your head with a grin. But even as you tried to reel yourself in, the excitement of possibly seeing him again was too much to suppress.

There was no denying it now. You told your girlfriends that you had fallen in love with Jeno Lee from the Sci-Tech building.

“It was love at first sight. I just know it,” you said dreamily, twirling in front of the mirror.

Kayla raised an eyebrow. “You said love at first sight is a scam.”

“I know what I said,” you sighed, knowing she was right. You were a skeptic when it came to love at first sight. Sure, you liked romance and were a massive fan of romcoms. But love at first sight in real life? Total BS. “Obviously, I was wrong. I have to admit that now,” you added, a mixture of disbelief and excitement swirling within you. Part of you still couldn’t believe how quickly your feelings had changed.

Kayla and Sienna exchanged glances. Sienna smirked, her tone playful as she asked, “Are you sure you weren’t just blinded by his looks? That can happen to some.”

“Well… He did look handsome, but I’m sure it was more than just that.” You walked back to your dresser, sporting a reminiscent smile. “I know it sounds crazy, but there was just something about him. I can’t explain it. It’s like… like he was meant to be there.”

Kayla rolled her eyes, but she couldn’t hide her grin. “Next thing you know, you’ll be writing love letters and doodling his name in your notebook.”

You laughed, shaking your head, but a part of you couldn’t deny it. Maybe you would. “Hey, if it comes to that, don’t judge me,” you said, a teasing glint in your eyes.

“Yo! I have arrived!” came Haechan’s voice from outside your bedroom door, followed by heavy knocks. “Come on, come out now before I change my mind and leave your asses.”

You opened the door and raised an eyebrow at him, leaning on the doorframe as you sized him up. “First of all, the car isn’t yours. Second, how dare you bring your shoes in here.”

“Move. I’m not here for your ugly mug. I need my baby,” he retorted, trying to push you out of the way, but you wouldn’t budge.

“You move,” you shot back, playfully pushing his chest and sending him back a few paces.

Sienna giggled as she brushed past you. “You guys never stop fighting, do you?” she asked rhetorically, knowing full well the answer was ‘yes.’

“I hate her so much,” Haechan muttered to Sienna as she greeted him with a soft kiss on the cheek. “How are you putting up with her?”

You rolled your eyes at their PDA. “The real question is, how is she putting up with you,” you quipped, turning on your heel to fetch your stuff.

Yangyang’s SUV was parked outside, and you could make out Renjun’s figure sitting in the shotgun. As the four of you boarded the car, Yangyang glanced back at you in the backseat, a mischievous smile playing on his lips.

“Hey, I heard you’re seeing someone from Sci-Tech. Is that true?” he asked, his tone teasing.

You furrowed your brows in confusion, about to respond, when Renjun sighed exasperatedly from the front seat. “I said she went to see someone,” he corrected, his voice calm but laced with mock annoyance.

Yangyang turned to Renjun, feigning innocence. “Isn’t that the same thing?”

“No, dumbass,” Renjun shot back, rolling his eyes.

“Wow. Renjun, you’re a fucking tattletale,” you blurted, pretending to be offended but unable to keep the smile off your face.

Renjun just shrugged. “Let’s just go,” he said, his tone final but light, signaling the end of the banter as Yangyang pulled out of the driveway.

On rainy days, you often carpooled with Yangyang, who generously offered to drive you safely to school. While the sinkhole repairs were still ongoing, the city had found a detour that made it possible for cars to access the street where NCIT is.

“How much longer do you think it’s gonna take?” Renjun asked as you passed by the sinkhole.

“Hopefully not long. The traffic in this part of the city is a nightmare,” you replied, leaning forward to peer through the space between Renjun and Yangyang as you looked outside.

“Mark’s asking if we’re still going to Felize’s for lunch today,” Haechan said, his eyes glued to his phone.

“Of course, man. We haven’t eaten at Felize’s in ages,” Yangyang replied with a sigh. “I miss their quesadillas.”

“Who else is coming?” Sienna asked, peeking at her boyfriend’s phone.

“No one else. Just Mark, Jaemin, and maybe Jeno.”

Your stomach did a little flip at the mention of Jeno’s name. “You’re going to Felize’s and you never told me?” you accused, feigning indignation.

Kayla cocked an eyebrow at you. “We talked about it in the group chat last week.”

“Why didn’t I know that?”

“Because you never check your messages,” Renjun said, not missing a beat.

Haechan chimed in, “And you rarely show up to our invitations anyway.”

“I do sometimes!” you insisted.

“Rarely,” Renjun shot back, smirking.

You grinned. “Well, today is your lucky day!”

“Oh, shut up. You just want to see Jeno,” Renjun teased, his smirk widening.

“Jeno?” Haechan repeated, his eyes narrowing as he looked at you suspiciously. “Do you like Jeno?”

“Mind your own business, alright?” you shot back.

After a long day of classes, you and your friends finally made your way to Felize’s. The familiar scent of sizzling fajitas and freshly baked tortillas greeted you as you stepped inside the cozy, dimly lit restaurant. It was a favorite hangout spot, a place where you could unwind and enjoy some of the best Mexican food in town.

The group quickly spotted Mark and Jaemin already seated at a booth near the window, waving them over. You all crammed into the booth, the chatter flowing easily as menus were passed around—even though you all knew what you were going to order.

As you looked around the restaurant, your excitement started to wane. You scanned the tables, hoping to catch a glimpse of Jeno, but he was nowhere to be seen.

Jaemin noticed your expression first and grinned. “What’s with the long face? You look like you lost something.”

You tried to play it off, shrugging. “Nothing. Just thought it would be more crowded.”

Haechan chuckled. “She was expecting someone in particular.”

“Someone whose name rhymes with… Den-o?” Kayla teased, her grin widening.

You rolled your eyes, but the small smile on your face gave you away. “Okay, fine, maybe I thought Jeno would be here. But I’m not disappointed. Just… mildly inconvenienced.”

“Mildly inconvenienced,” Yangyang mocked with a playful smirk. “I can practically see the broken heart emojis floating above your head.”

“Yo! Wait, what’s going on?” Mark asked, holding up his palms. Turning to you, he asked, “Do you like Jeno?”

“No,” you denied, but you were grinning from ear-to-ear. “Who is he anyway?”

“No, seriously,” Mark pressed, eye gleaming with interest as he turned to your other friends for answers. “Seriously? Since when?”

“Not long,” you replied, hoping they'd move on. “Just very recently.”

“Recently? Alright, that makes sense. We’ve been flatmates since he got here. I was wondering why you never told us,” Mark said, nodding..

“Right? I didn’t even know there were three of you in that apartment!” you groaned.

Jaemin smiled at you. “Too bad he isn’t here. He had other things to do.”

Renjun, ever the instigator, leaned back in his seat with a knowing smile. “You know, if you really want to see him, you could just text him and ask where he is. He might appreciate the effort.”

Mark nodded in agreement, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “Yeah, or maybe we should’ve just kidnapped him and brought him here ourselves.”

Yangyang added with a grin, “Or better yet, we can all show up at his place with food and be like, ‘Hey, you missed out!’”

Haechan’s laughter was an insult to you. “Does he even know you? I heard you get tongue-tied at the mere sight of him!”

There was a chorus of disbelief from the boys at your table. Jaemin asked, still shocked, “You? Tongue-tied?”

Kayla chuckled softly. “Come on, guys. Don’t tease her like that. She’s just a bit shy.”

“Oh god,” Yangyang exclaimed, rubbing his arms. “I got goosebumps hearing you say that.”

“Yeah, ‘shy’ and ‘you’ don’t belong in the same sentence,” added Haechan, pointing his finger at you.

You groaned, half-laughing as you covered your face with your hands. “You guys are the worst.”

“But you love us anyway,” Sienna said, patting your shoulder.

“Yeah, yeah,” you muttered, though the smile on your face gave you away. Even though Jeno wasn’t there, you couldn’t help but enjoy the moment with your friends.

With the midterms fast approaching, you momentarily forgot about Jeno, focusing instead in making notes and studying. Instead of the campus library, you opted to the city library. You liked it there. It’s quieter, with fewer students, and more books to choose from. Except this time, instead of maintaining your streak as a recognized Most Diligent Reader—third place overall last year—you buried yourself in notes and textbooks.

One particularly slow weekend, you were absorbed in your study when you thought your eyes were playing tricks on you. There, leaning against one of the towering old bookshelves, was Jeno. He held a book in one hand, and his other hand twirled a pen absentmindedly. Your heart leaped to your throat, and a wave of nerves washed over you.

You quietly observed Jeno from behind the cover of your textbook, trying to focus on your notes. But despite your best intentions, your gaze kept drifting towards him. The way he casually flipped through pages and twirled his pen seemed to make time stand still. You watched as he moved from the shelves to a table across the room, burying his head into the book. You tried to concentrate, but your efforts were in vain as your mind wandered back to him.

The next day, you were back at the city library, hoping for another glimpse of him. To your surprise, Jeno was there again, looking just as engrossed in his studies as before. You couldn’t help but think that maybe he enjoyed this library as much as you did. Although that day, he studied little and slept most of the day.

One afternoon, Sienna showed up and immediately noticed your distracted state. She took one look at you and followed your gaze, rolling her eyes when she saw Jeno.

“Seriously?” Sienna said, sitting down next to you and grabbing your notes. “You’re here to study, not to gawk at some guy.”

You blushed, trying to regain your composure. “I’m not gawking. I’m just—”

“Just talk to him,” Sienna interrupted, her tone a mix of exasperation and encouragement. “He’s right there. How hard can it be?”

You felt your cheeks grow warmer. “I can’t just walk up to him. I’m—” You hesitated, searching for the right words. “I’m shy.”

Sienna raised an eyebrow. “You? You’re never shy.”

“I know,” you admitted, feeling a bit flustered. “It’s just… different with him. I don’t know why.”

Sienna sighed dramatically. “Fine, I’ll do it for you then. But you owe me coffee.”

You shot up from your seat, grabbing her arm to stop her. “No, wait! Please don’t.”

Sienna looked at you, puzzled. “Are you sure? He seems like a really nice guy. It wouldn’t hurt to just say hi.”

You shook your head, giving her a pleading look. “I don’t want to rush things. Just let me handle it.”

Sienna studied you for a moment, then sighed and relented. “Alright, alright. I won’t push it. But you better get on with it soon, or I’m going to start making plans for you.”

You breathed a sigh of relief, and Sienna returned to her seat, shaking her head but with a smile. You knew you needed to muster the courage to talk to Jeno on your own terms, but now is not the right time yet. Of course that’s just an excuse, but you wanted to believe it.

Once more, you found yourself at the city library, where you spotted Jeno studying with Jaemin. You decided to sit at a table right behind them, carefully positioning yourself so that Jaemin’s back was to you. This way, you could observe Jeno without risking being seen by your friend.

As you settled into your seat, you pulled out your notes and pretended to study, though your attention was primarily focused on Jeno. You discreetly stole glances over the top of your book, trying to catch glimpses of his expressions and the way he animatedly explained something to Jaemin. You found yourself fixated on his lips, the way they moved and the way they’re so pink and plump.

Just as you were lost in the sight of him, Jeno’s gaze flicked in your direction, his eyes meeting yours for a brief moment. Your heart skipped a beat, and you quickly ducked behind your book, pretending to be engrossed in your notes. You could almost feel your cheeks heating up, and you cursed yourself for being so obvious. Surely, he didn’t realize you’d been staring at him, right?

You were probably wrong. He definitely saw that.

Trying to regain your composure, you forced yourself to focus on your studies, though your mind kept drifting back to that fleeting moment of eye contact. You stole another glance from behind the cover of your book, only to find that Jeno had returned to his conversation with Jaemin, seemingly unaware of your presence. You let out a quiet sigh of relief, but the excitement and nervousness of the encounter lingered, making it hard to concentrate on anything other than him.

Exams arrived, and you couldn’t help but regret not studying as diligently as you should have. You knew you wouldn’t fail any of them, but you braced yourself for some disappointing scores. That did not stop you from attending an off-campus house party though.

The party was in full swing when you arrived, and you were having a blast with your girlfriends. Amid the laughter and music, you spotted Jeno with his group of friends. Your friends, in high spirits, decided to make a bet involving a game of flip-cup. The stakes were simple: if you lose, you had to go up and talk to Jeno.

“News travel fast,” you snickered, eyeing Sienna in particular.

Sienna shrugged nonchalantly. “Wasn’t me. They found out by themselves.”

“Yeah, you weren’t as slick as you thought,” said Olive, tossing the cup towards you.

“Don’t worry, babe,” said Kayla, squeezing your shoulder gently. “No one’s ratting you out.”

As the game progressed, you tried your best to lose, but Flip Cup just so happened to be one of those games you were oddly good at. Every time you thought you were about to lose, you somehow managed to pull through.

“Oh, come on! Just let her lose already,” Kayla teased from the sidelines, clearly enjoying the spectacle.

“You’re actually scared to talk to Jeno, are you?” Sienna asked with a grin, playfully nudging you. “There’s no way you’re this good.”

“I’m not scared!” you protested, though you were starting to sweat. “I’m just… strategically holding back.”

Your friends exchanged amused glances, clearly not buying your excuse. “You know what? I don’t even need this,” you said with a dramatic flair, taking a big swig of the spiked punch in your red cup. “I’m gonna go talk to him right now.”

“Oooh,” your friends chorused.

With newfound confidence, you made your way toward Jeno’s group. He stood by the music console with a few others, talking and laughing. You clenched and unclenched your fists, trying to squeeze out the nervousness that was starting to creep back in. The closer you got, the more your heart pounded, your palms growing clammy.

It would be easier if he was alone, you thought and it was like the universe heard your plea because his friends walked away from him, rushing somewhere else while cheering. You took a deep breath, trying to muster up the courage to approach him. Just when you were almost within reach, Haechan unexpectedly passed by.

Without thinking, you grabbed his arm, veering off course. “Hi! I’ve been looking for you!” you blurted out, trying to sound casual.

Haechan blinked at you, baffled. “What? Why? What did I do?”

You forced a smile, dragging him further away from Jeno’s group. “Nothing. Just wanted to catch up with you!”

Haechan gave you a suspicious look, noting how you kept glancing over your shoulder. “What’s going on? You’re acting weird.”

When you were safely out of sight, you finally let go of Haechan and waved him off. “Go away.”

Haechan pointed at himself in mock disbelief. “Me? Go away? You’re the one who dragged me over here!”

“Well, thanks for your service. I don’t need you anymore,” you quipped, turning on your heel and heading back to your girlfriends. You were welcomed by their disappointed gazes.

“That was so anticlimactic,” Kayla remarked, shaking her head.

“Oh, shut up,” you sighed, rolling your eyes, though you couldn’t hide the rueful smile tugging at your lips.

The rest of the night passed in a blur of laughter and drinks. By the time you got home, you were drunk but wide awake, whining to your friends as you sprawled out on the living room carpet. Squinting up at the ceiling, you muttered, “I’m home.”

“Yeah, you are,” Sienna replied, nodding as she watched you.

You pointed at the lightbulb above you. “But I don’t see Jeno Lee. He should be here.”

“He probably would be if you didn’t chicken out at the last minute,” Sienna scolded, shaking her head. “And you’re not in your bedroom, dumbass. Get up!”

You groaned, closing your eyes as you smiled. “Next time... maybe.”

Sienna rolled her eyes and nudged you with her foot. “Yeah, sure. We’ll believe it when we see it.”

Days passed with you casually crossing paths with Jeno more often. It was like the universe had decided to make him appear everywhere you went. You noticed that you both arrived on campus around the same time, late in the morning at 10:30. He was often at the quad, surrounded by friends or just passing by. Each glimpse of him was like a small thrill, a bright spot in your routine school day.

The public library was a hit-or-miss; sometimes he was there, and other times he wasn’t. Still, you went there every day out of habit, mainly to read and also to see him if he happened to be there.

You got to know him in this way, piecing together bits of his life through observations and casual conversations with others. You learned about his friends, his classes, and his easygoing personality. He seemed to be well-liked by everyone, always ready with a smile or a kind word.

But there was one place you rarely saw him: the food court. It has been a while since you found out about him, and despite having mutual friends, you have yet to talk to him or share the same space. Today, you walked into the food court and scanned the place for any sign of him, only to be disappointed by his absence.

You settled on the chair next to Kayla, fixing your bag. Sliding next to you, Kayla whispered, “You look glum. Haven’t seen your crush today yet?”

You rolled your eyes at her mischievous grin. “No. And I’m not glum at all! Especially not because of that.”

Sienna snickered from her spot next to Haechan. “Yeah, you are totally glum because of that.”

Just as you were about to retort, you caught sight of Jeno walking into the cafeteria. Your heart skipped a beat as you watched him navigate through the crowd, his easy smile drawing you in. He greeted a few friends with casual high-fives and settled into a seat with a group of students—Mark, Jaemin, and Yangyang among them.

Kayla nudged you, a knowing look in her eyes. “There he is.”

“Yeah, don’t care,” you said, but the grin spreading across your face was a clear contradiction of your words.

Haechan shuddered exaggeratedly. “You’re so creepy when you smile like that.”

You shot him a glare. “And? How about making yourself useful to me for once and make it so that we can have lunch together?”

Haechan flashed a challenging smirk. “Think you can handle it?”

You scoffed, rolling your eyes as you opened your salad. “Never mind. I don’t need your help. I can manage my own love life.”

“Sure you can,” he jeered. “Isn’t that why you still haven’t talked to him after all this time?”

You were about to snap back when Sienna interjected, “Table manners, sweethearts.”

Haechan rolled his eyes, then mimed zipping his lips. “Your friend is annoying,” he muttered to Sienna.

“And your boyfriend is super annoying,” you retorted.

“Your friend is ultra—” Haechan started, but Sienna cut him off.

“Stop it,” Sienna chided sternly. He quickly complied, pretending to lock his lips. “Ugh, kids.”

In the afternoon, as you were walking through the Arts building, you spotted a familiar figure down the hallway. It was Jeno! Your stomach fluttered, and you couldn’t help but wonder what he was doing there. Curiosity got the best of you, and after some subtle investigation—okay, maybe a little eavesdropping—you discovered the reason. He had taken up Carpentry as an elective!

To make things even better, you were in that class! You had chosen it just for fun, but with Jeno there, your mind raced with possibilities as you found something new to look forward to. Did this mean you’d see him more often? What should you do? You have no idea yet, for now, you must go to class.

When saw him there, you could barely keep your eyes off him but you had to try. Though you didn’t have any chances to talk yet, you were content with just seeing him there, sharing the same space.

Later, you told Sienna and Kayla about it, your head floating in the clouds out of sheer joy. They exchanged amused looks, teasing you mercilessly about your "carpenter crush," but they understood your fascination, even if they enjoyed poking fun at you.

Carpentry was scheduled every Tuesday and Thursday. On Thursday, as you were heading to class, you found yourself walking behind him. He was talking to one of his friends, his laughter echoing in the hallway. You couldn’t help but smile, feeling a warm glow inside.

In class, you worked on your project, stealing glances at Jeno every now and then. The room smelled of clay, and the sound of tools clinking filled the air. He was focused on his own work, unaware of your silent admiration. It was enough for now, you told yourself. Just being near him was enough.

But as you worked on your project, sneaking glances at him, you knew this was just the beginning. There was a quiet contentment in being near him, but a part of you couldn’t help but hope for more—just one conversation, one chance to see if your feelings were more than just a crush.

“What are your plans for the Sports Fest?” Kayla asked, nudging your arm. “I’ll be doing Badminton Doubles with Olive.”

In the living room of your apartment, you and your friends gathered around the coffee table, eating takeout from a fast food restaurant. Everyone in your close circle was there, and you had asked them to bring Jeno but apparently, he had plans.

You waved your hand dismissively as you swallowed your food. “Hard pass. I’m still healing from that awful injury last year,” you replied, massaging your right wrist.

During last year’s sports fest, you played volleyball for your department. You remembered the sharp pain as you fell on your arm, the way your wrist twisted awkwardly beneath you. It had long since healed, but the memory of that day still lingered, leaving you with an irrational fear of getting hurt again. It was an awful experience that you would rather not relive.

“I thought you’re completely healed?” asked Mark, taking your hand to examine your wrist. “Did you break a bone? I thought it was just a sprain.”

“I’m just exaggerating,” you snickered, retracting your hand. “My wrist is healed but my heart is not. It’s called trauma.”

“Yeah, I know what it’s called,” Mark chuckled.

You eyed him curiously. “What about you? Basketball?”

Mark nodded, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Honestly, I can’t wait to kick Yangyang’s ass.”

Across the room on the leather couch, Yangyang was gobbling his burger. Unable to speak with his mouth full, he flipped a middle finger at Mark, who just laughed.

“Ah, I almost forgot!” Mark exclaimed, looking at you with widened eyes. “Jeno’s playing too!”

The mention of Jeno made your face light up. “He is?”

“Look at you all bright and excited,” Jaemin teased.

Renjun smirked, patting his hands as he finished his food. “Watch her betray her department and cheer for a different team again. Like she did last year for her ex.”

“Oh my god!” you exclaimed, covering your ears and closing your eyes. “No bad words on the dinner table.”

Sienna leaned in with a smirk. “Wanna bet she’d cheer for the Humanities Department this year?”

Kayla chimed in, “Pass. We all know she’d support Jeno no matter what.”

You rolled your eyes, but the thought lingered. “We’ll see,” you mumbled, hiding your smile behind another bite of food. “I’ll be there for all your games, though. Moral support and all.”

The three-day Sports Fest dawned on NCIT with a strong air of festivity and excitement. Banners and streamers hung around the campus, bearing the crests and colors of each department. For the first two days, you cheered and supported your friends in their respective sports, while making sure not to miss each one of Jeno’s basketball games. In between games, you enjoyed the booths that the clubs had set up on the campus grounds. There were food stalls with a variety of snacks and meal sets. There were fair games with plush toys for prizes. Your favorite was the photobooth where you and your friends took lots of pictures to commemorate the event.

The last day of the event was for championships. To showcase the camaraderie of the student body, everyone dressed in the colors of their respective departments, and the entire campus thrummed with cheers and enthusiasm for the day.

You wore a vivid blue shirt bearing the crest of the Humanities Department and throughout the day, you moved courts cheering for your friends in their respective sports. Haechan did well in his soccer game, and Kayla seemed to have secured the silver for your department. But the highlight of your day was the basketball championship.

It was a match between the Humanities Department and the Engineering Department. The covered court was booming with cheers from the students who filled up the bleachers. The school band played an upbeat tune, adding to the festive atmosphere. You and your friends went early to get the best seats to watch the game. The blue flaglets in your hand blended with everyone else on your side of the court. On the other, green long balloons were cheering for the Engineering department.

Players were warming up down at the court, stretching, and doing practice shooting before the game officially began. Mark spotted your group and waved two hands at you.

“Boo!” Yangyang jeered beside you with his thumbs down. He was salty after his Business Department lost to Engineering yesterday.

You looked for Jeno among the different faces. There he was, dressed in his uniform—white and green jersey, matching shorts, and sneakers that seemed to gleam under the bright lights. The uniform hugged his athletic build, showcasing his toned muscles and broad shoulders. He blended in with the team but the way he moved with an easy grace and confident stride made him stand out even more in your eyes.

“Close your mouth!” Jaemin teased, earning a chorus of laughter from your friends. “We don’t want Jeno to see you drooling.”

You quickly clamped your mouth shut, feeling your cheeks heat up as Sienna nudged you with a knowing smile. Still, you couldn’t take your eyes off Jeno. The way he carried himself and the way his eyes sparkled with excitement made him look even more captivating. It was as if he was glowing, radiating an aura of coolness and charisma.

As the final minutes before the game ticked away, the energy in the court grew higher. You could feel your pulse quicken in sync with the rising tension in the air. The earlier games and festivities had been thrilling, but this match was the one you’d been waiting for. You couldn’t help but wonder if Jeno had noticed you in the crowd during his previous games, or if he was too focused on the game to even glance your way. The thought made your heart race, but you pushed it aside, deciding to enjoy the view instead.

As the game started, the energy in the court surged to new heights. You were on the edge of your seat, your heart pounding in time with the rhythm of the game. The Humanities Department was strong, but your eyes were only on Jeno and his team. Every time the Engineering Department scored, you couldn’t help but leap to your feet, waving your blue flaglets as if they were green.

“Go, Engineering!” you shouted, your voice ringing out loud and clear among the crowd. You were so absorbed in cheering for Jeno that you didn’t even notice the confused looks from your own department. It was strange, even to you, seeing someone in the vivid blue of Humanities cheering so passionately for the opposing team.

It didn’t take long for Jeno to notice your enthusiastic support. During a brief pause in the game, he glanced in your direction. Your heart skipped a beat as your eyes met, and a slow, amused smile spread across his face. You could feel your cheeks flush, but you couldn’t stop yourself from smiling back, your heart soaring.

Throughout the game, you continued to cheer louder than anyone else, your voice echoing across the court. Every time Jeno glanced your way, you felt a thrill shoot through you, making you cheer even louder. At one point, he made a particularly impressive play—a quick steal and a flawless layup—that had you jumping to your feet with a wild cheer.

As he jogged back down the court, he caught your eye again and flashed you another smile, a playful glint in his eyes that sent you straight to cloud nine. It was as if the rest of the world had faded away, leaving just the two of you in a bubble of shared glances and silent connections.

“Are you even from Humanities?” Yangyang teased, nudging you with his elbow. “You might as well be wearing green.”

You just laughed, too giddy to care about the odd looks you were getting. Nothing else mattered at that moment. All you could think about was Jeno—how his every move seemed effortless, how his smiles made you feel like you were the only one in the crowd.

The game continued, but you were already winning in your own way, basking in the warmth of Jeno’s attention. Mark had been grinning mischievously at you, clearly amused by your bold display.

The game was intense, with both teams neck and neck until the final quarter. The tension in the air was palpable, every dribble and pass holding the crowd in suspense. You were on your feet almost the entire time, cheering your heart out for the Engineering team, and especially for Jeno. With every basket, your voice rose above the rest, earning even more curious and amused glances from those around you.

As the clock ticked down the final seconds, the Engineering team managed to pull ahead by just a few points. The crowd roared as Jeno’s team scored the winning basket, securing the championship title. You screamed with joy, jumping up and down, waving your flaglets wildly. It didn’t matter that you were in blue—you felt like you were part of the victory too.

After the game, as the teams shook hands and congratulated each other, you noticed Mark heading your way, with Jeno walking right beside him. Your heart skipped a beat again, and you tried to calm your racing thoughts as they approached.

Mark grinned widely as he reached you. “Hey, Jeno,” he said, turning to his friend, “I’ve got to introduce you to the loudest cheerleader you had out there today.”

You felt a blush creeping up your neck as Mark gestured toward you. Jeno’s eyes sparkled with recognition, and that familiar smile curved on his lips.

“I am honored,” Jeno said, his voice warm and teasing. “I could hear you all the way from the court. Thanks for the support, even though you’re… clearly not from Engineering.”

You laughed, feeling a mix of excitement and nerves. “I couldn’t help it,” you admitted, grinning up at him. “You guys were just too good.”

Jeno chuckled, running a hand through his hair. “We appreciate it. You should consider switching departments,” he added playfully.

You shook your head, still smiling. “I’m pretty attached to Humanities. I’ll always root for you though.”

“Good to know,” Jeno said, his eyes meeting yours with a softness that made your heart flutter all over again.

Mark smirked, clearly pleased with himself for setting up this interaction. “You guys are coming to the party tonight, right?”

You shrugged, glancing at your friends behind you. “We wouldn’t miss it!” you replied, trying to keep your voice steady.

“Great,” Jeno said, his smile widening. “Let’s celebrate, then.”

As the crowd began to disperse and the festivities moved off the court, you couldn’t believe your luck. As you walked out of the court, surrounded by friends and buzzing with excitement, you couldn’t help but feel like something wonderful had begun.

“The ship is finally sailing!” Kayla chimed as you exited the campus together with Sienna.

“About damn time!” Sienna exclaimed and the three of you squealed in excitement.

Tonight, you will talk to Jeno Lee. You had finally made up your mind about it. It should be so hard now, considering he now knows of your existence and you two had already been introduced.

You arrived at the provided address with Kayla, wrapped in thick coats due to the cold weather. The house was a sprawling two-story with a large backyard, and it was already rowdy. Music blared from the speakers set up on the patio, and the air was filled with the sounds of laughter and chatter.

Inside, the party was in full swing and you had to lose your coats due to the hotter atmosphere. The living room was packed with students, some lounging on plush sofas while others danced to the beat of the music. Red solo cups and plates of snacks were scattered everywhere, and the whole house was filled with the aroma of pizza and chips. Green LED lights and the Engineering department’s green banners added a nice touch.

You were there to have fun, that’s a given. But you were mainly there to see Jeno, you wouldn’t deny that fact. It wasn’t hard to find him. He was standing near the snack table, talking and laughing with a group of friends. He seemed to be in high spirits, smiling and looking handsome under the warm glow of the lights.

He moved across the room, catching your eye, and for a moment, you froze, wondering if he noticed you. When he settled on a single couch and pulled out his phone, you took this as your cue to approach him.

“Okay. Calm down,” you told yourself, steadying your breathing. “You’re just gonna say hi. Tell him he did great at the game or something.”

With your heart pounding, you started walking towards him, rehearsing your words in your mind. Just as you were about five steps away, you noticed a girl walk up to Jeno. She had a confident stride and a friendly smile. Your steps faltered, and you hesitated, watching as they exchanged a few words. And then, in a moment that felt like it was stretching on forever, they kissed.

It was a brief but unmistakable kiss, a tender connection that spoke volumes. His hand around her waist was firm, and the smile he gave her should have been sweet, but it was painful for you to look at.

Your heart sank, and the world around you seemed to blur. The warmth of the party, the music, and the lively chatter all faded into a distant hum. A cold, empty feeling settled in your chest, making it hard to breathe. It felt as though someone had pressed pause on your world, leaving you standing on the edge of a scene you could no longer be a part of.

You turned away quickly, embarrassed and worried someone might notice you gawking. You took a deep breath, lifted your chin, and walked the opposite way, pretending you hadn’t seen anything. But the image was seared into your mind, refusing to fade.

You forced a smile at some students who recognized you, but your heart was aching so badly that you felt like crying. The excitement of the evening had dimmed, replaced by a feeling of quiet sadness. Still, you forced yourself to stay, determined not to let the moment ruin the night entirely. You were supposed to have fun here, after all, however difficult that might be now.

“Hey, you okay?” Kayla suddenly appeared by your side, his eyes searching your face.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you lied, forcing another smile. “Just needed some air.”

Kayla didn’t seem convinced, but she didn’t push it. Instead, she looped her arm through yours. “Let’s find something to drink.”

You nodded, grateful for the distraction. The two of you made your way to the kitchen, where a group of students were mixing drinks and chatting loudly. You grabbed a soda and pretended to listen to the conversations around you, though your mind kept drifting back to what you had just witnessed.

After a few minutes, Kayla nudged you. “There’s Sienna and Haechan! Let’s go say hi.”

You followed her gaze and spotted the couple near the back door, laughing with a group of students. She greeted you both with a big hug, immediately noticing your mood.

“What’s up?” Sienna asked, her brow furrowed in concern.

You shrugged, trying to downplay it. “Just tired.”

Sienna eyed you for a moment before nodding. “Well, this party better wake you up! Come on, let’s dance.”

You allowed yourself to be dragged to the makeshift dance floor, where the music was louder, and the energy was infectious. You danced along with Kayla and Sienna, trying to lose yourself in the rhythm. For a moment, it worked. You laughed and moved to the beat, letting the music drown out your thoughts.

But it wasn’t long before your mind wandered back to Jeno. You caught glimpses of him across the room, and each time, the image of him with that girl played on repeat in your head. It hurt more than you wanted to admit.

As the night wore on, you found yourself sitting on the living room couch, watching people play, talk, and drink. Your mind floated to space, consumed by thoughts of Jeno. Everything had gone so wrong so fast. Suddenly, this whole crush thing felt ridiculous and stupid. How classic of you to jump into something without carefully measuring the fall.

Just as you were about to drown in your thoughts, Mark appeared from the crowd, smiling as he skipped over to you and plopped down on the couch beside you. “There you are! Having fun?”

“Hey,” you said weakly, trying to muster some enthusiasm. But Mark’s scowl told you that you weren’t fooling him.

“Apparently not. Is everything okay?” Mark asked, concern etched across his face.

You hesitated, then let out a bitter laugh. “Yeah. Just… tired,” you replied, chuckling softly as you leaned your head on his shoulder. “I should probably just go home.”

“Why? Shouldn’t you be talking to Jeno right now?”

“Ugh, forget it. I don’t like him anymore.”

Mark winced. “What happened? Did you find an ick that made you cringe?”

You exhaled sharply, glaring at him. “Go away if you’re just gonna talk about Jeno all night.”

“Alright, fine. I won’t,” he chuckled heartily, raising his hands in surrender. Then, he offered you his bottle of beer with a grin.

Without hesitating, you grabbed it and chugged the contents in one go. The cold liquid burned down your throat, and you burped a little too loudly, causing Mark to burst out laughing. You were annoyed at first, but his laughter was contagious, and soon enough, you found yourself laughing along with him. The heavy weight on your chest lifted even only for a moment, replaced by a warmth that spread through you, making everything a little more bearable.

It wasn’t difficult at all to push Jeno out of your mind: you just had to focus on other things. Mornings began with the shrill ring of the alarm, followed by a hasty breakfast and the walk to school. Classes became a sanctuary of focus. The workload was manageable, and you found a rhythm in balancing your assignments with extracurricular activities. You continued to be the congenial girl that you are, making friends here and there while keeping up with old ones.

Carpentry class, however, was a different story. Jeno sat just a few tables away, his presence a constant, aching reminder. You occasionally caught glimpses of him, but your gazes never lingered anymore, concentrating instead on your projects.

Lunchtimes were spent mostly with Kayla and Sienna—Haechan too since he couldn’t seem to stand being away from his girlfriend. You shared stories and laughter over cafeteria food that ranged from surprisingly decent to downright questionable. You talk about your classes, your adjustments, and, occasionally, the lingering shadow of your crush. They couldn’t believe their ears when you said you didn’t like him anymore. When you refused to tell them why, they didn’t press for an answer.

Afternoons were reserved for your favorite spot in the public library. It was your quiet retreat, and if Jeno happened to be there, you hardly noticed. Your focus was on your reading and studies, pushing aside any lingering thoughts of him.

Evenings are quieter. You come home, tired but content, and reflect on the day’s events. You sit at your desk, do your homework, and occasionally glance at social media, where Jeno’s updates serve as a bittersweet reminder of a failed romance—not that it even began in the first place.

Fate had other plans though. Like a prank just to rain on your parade, you were paired with Jeno for a Carpentry project.

If this had happened before you discovered he was taken, you would have been over the moon with excitement, thrilled by the prospect of working closely with him. But now, all you could feel was apprehension and awkwardness.

“Looks like we’re partners,” he said, his heart-melting smile making it impossible to ignore the flutter in your chest.

“Yeah, looks like it,” you replied, striving for nonchalance despite the storm of emotions brewing inside you.

As you both settled at a table, the world seemed to shrink to just the two of you and the project before you. You mentally scolded yourself, determined not to fall back into the crazy crush you’d put behind you.

“So, where do we start?” you asked, pulling out your notebook and your pen case out of your bag.

Before responding, Jeno tilted his head slightly, studying you with a curious expression. “You don’t remember me, do you?”

Nervousness engulfed you. “What do you mean?” you asked, trying to keep your voice steady.

“The taxi cab a few months back,” he said, a smile tugging at his lips. “It was pouring and I barged into your cab.”

You laughed shyly. “Of course. I remember.”

He nodded, leaning back slightly. “What about before that?”

“Before?” you asked stupidly, racking your brain.

“The library. You fell, and I—”

“Ah!” you exclaimed, suddenly recalling the day you first met him. You laughed softly, shaking your head. “How could I forget?”

Jeno chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “So, you remembered? Why didn’t you say anything?”

You scoffed. “Why didn’t you?”

He shrugged. “I thought you might not recognize me.”

Oh god, Jeno, if you only knew, you thought, suppressing a smile. “Well, now we know,” you said in feigned indifference. There was a moment of silence, a comfortable one, where the two of you simply looked at each other, a newfound connection sparking between you.

“So,” you said, breaking the silence with a smile. You pressed a thumb on the sheet handed to you by Mr. Harris. “Shall we get started?”

“Sure,” he replied, his smile widening.

This could be it—the beginning of something new, a chance to turn a long-held crush into a real connection. And you would have been ready for it if not for the fact that he had a girlfriend. So you pushed your feelings aside and resolved to not step out of the line.

What started as an academic collaboration soon turned into something more comfortable and natural. You got to know each other in the few days you spent working together so far. Your task was to create a fully functional reclining chair, and from the outset, it was clear that this was going to be a challenging project. The first day, you both laid out the design, Jeno’s enthusiasm was infectious and it was clear that he was enjoying this class, unlike you who only signed up for fun.

“I think we should go with a sleek, modern look,” he suggested, his eyes bright with excitement. You nodded in agreement, appreciating his vision and passion for the project.

Jeno was surprisingly meticulous with his measurements and cuts, his focus sharp and his explanations clear. You found his dedication impressive and his passion for the craft endearing. He showed you how to properly measure and cut the wood. His patience and willingness to teach made the learning process enjoyable.

One afternoon, as you worked on sanding the wooden pieces, Jeno shared a story about his childhood, describing how his father used to involve him in small woodworking projects around the house. His eyes lit up with nostalgia, and you could see the joy in his voice as he spoke. It was a side of him you hadn’t seen before, and it made you appreciate him even more.

In return, you told him about your own experiences, your hobbies, and the challenges you faced when balancing school and extracurriculars. Jeno listened intently, his smile genuine and his responses thoughtful. The conversation flowed easily, and you found yourself laughing more than you had in a long time.

During these sessions, you learned that Jeno was more than just a charming basketball player. He was kind, thoughtful, and had a dry sense of humor that made you chuckle. You also discovered that he was a great listener, always eager to hear your thoughts and ideas. Despite your resolve to forget about your crush, you couldn’t deny that he was easy to talk to and genuinely pleasant to be around. Funny how it was so much easier to get to know him and talk to him now that you decided to forget having a crush on him.

Still, there was no point in hoping to make a special connection with someone who’s taken.

“You were really good at it,” you told him once when you happened to talk about the Engineering Department’s basketball win. You were in the workshop, watching him color the sketch you made for your project.

“Not good enough to be MVP,” he said, shaking his head without lifting his head. “Speaking of, you were really supportive then.”

You shrugged, mentally rolling your eyes at how silly you were at the time. “I’m a fan of Mark’s when it comes to basketball,” you said, saving face with a harmless lie. “You were amazing too, so I thought you deserved the cheers.”

Jeno chuckled heartily, eyes crinkling as he looked up at you momentarily. The mole under his eye was a cute distraction. “You’re praising me too much. I should take you out to dinner.”

You flashed a deadpan expression before you burst out laughing. Jeno watched you with a goofy grin.

“I guess that was too fast, huh? Should I have gone for coffee instead?” he said and you could swear he was flirting with you.

Rolling your eyes, you brushed your assumptions aside. “I am tempted. But I must decline.”

He shrugged, taking your rejection in stride. “I’ll try again tomorrow then.”

“Charming,” you mocked. “It’s a shame you’re in a relationship. I would have accepted.”

Jeno’s hand froze on the sketchpad, looking up at you with a confused expression. “I’m in a relationship? Since when?”

“Since—” you paused, realizing the tone of his voice just now. “Wait, you’re not?”

You stared at each other, confusion and bewilderment visible on your faces. Before either of you could break the silence, Mr. Harris arrived to dismiss the class.

“I have to go,” you told him, gathering your stuff in haste before rushing out of the room.

The living room of Renjun, Haechan, and Yangyang’s shared apartment was peaceful, the slow melodic music playing in the background bringing a tranquil vibe to the space. Sitting on the carpeted floor with their heads resting on the couch were Haechan, Jaemin, and Mark. The three of them had sheet masks on their faces, and on the coffee table sat a humidifier fogging the room with a sweet citrusy vanilla scent.

Renjun sat on the sofa, reading a book while also wearing a sheet mask. From the small kitchen, Sienna emerged with a glass of water.

“How’s it going?” she asked, beaming at the calming view of her friends taking care of their skin. It was her idea, of course. They do this once every two weeks, even calling it Spa Day.

“I look forward to this every time, Sienna,” said Jaemin before taking a deep breath.

Kayla appeared next to Sienna with a smirk. “You’re doing God’s work, S. I doubt these boys would recognize a moisturizer if it smacked them on the face.”

“Or a sunscreen,” Sienna added and the two shared a laugh. “They’re running late, aren’t they?” she asked, referring to you and Yangyang.

“Well, Yangyang said he’s opting out because he needs to be somewhere today. As for our girl—” Kayla was cut off by the loud sound of the door slamming open. The sound briefly shattered the tranquility of the atmosphere, catching everyone off-guard and even causing Renjun to jolt up from his seat.

All eyes turned to the doorway where you stood with your hand on the door, huffing as if you’d been running. Your eyes were wide and color seemed to have been drained from your face.

“Speak of the devil,” Kayla quipped, walking over to you.

Haechan tutted sternly. “Did you really have to slam the door like that? You’re so dramatic.”

Ignoring Haechan’s taunting, you walked into the flat and stood in front of Jaemin and Mark, who both looked up at you curiously.

“What’s up?” Jaemin asked, grinning.

“Tell me. Does Jeno have a girlfriend?”

Mark’s brows furrowed. “Not that I know of,” he said, turning to Jaemin for confirmation.

Jaemin shook his head at Mark and turned to you. “No. He doesn’t.”

You dropped your bag on the floor and knelt next to Jaemin, placing your shaking hands on his forearm. “But I saw him kiss this gorgeous girl at the Engineering party last month.”

“Really?” he questioned. He pondered for a moment and you shook his arms impatiently. “Last month? Then it must have been Camille from Com-Sci.”

“Do you know her?” you asked, confusion and concern evident.

“Yeah, she asked Jeno out, but he turned her down. I thought they might have hooked up, but Jeno said nothing happened,” Jaemin explained.

You cast a suspicious gaze at him. “Are you lying?”

Jaemin scoffed. “No. Why would I lie to you?”

“So, he’s single?” you asked, your voice tinged with relief.

“Pretty much,” Jaemin confirmed.

“Does he… you know… sleep around?” you asked hesitantly.

Jaemin chuckled, shaking his head. “Not as far as I know. But if he did, I’d rather not talk about his sex life.”

You rose to your feet, heading for the couch and slumping on it, face first. Thoughts raced in your head, so many of them at the same time that it was almost incoherent.

Mark turned to you on the couch. “Wait, you said you didn’t like him anymore? Was that the reason?”

“Oh my god!” Kayla exclaimed, realization slowly dawning on your friends.

“You saw him kiss a girl?” Renjun recalled, looking lost and confused. “And thought she was his girlfriend?”

“Yes,” you said, your voice muffled by the soft couch. You flailed your arms and kicked your legs in frustration. “God! I was so stupid!”

Sienna sat on the couch, taking your head and gently placing it on her lap. “No, you’re not. It was a completely normal reaction. I’d think he’s dating someone too if I saw him kiss her.”

“Right?” you blurted, lifting your head to see her face. You shifted on the couch, sitting up properly. “But that was a total miss, wasn’t it?”

“Kind of,” Sienna shrugged.

“Yeah, you should have just asked,” Mark added, smoothing out the sheet mask on his face.

Kayla sat on your other side. “So if he’s single, does that mean you can take another shot at him? You guys know each other now, right?”

You smiled sheepishly. “I don’t know. I’m kinda bummed now. Although I’m gonna be honest, I’m relieved that he’s single. I just… lost the motivation.”

“You still like him though, right?” Sienna asked.

You nodded and the girls exchanged looks. Kayla said, “Then what’s stopping you now?”

The realization began to settle in. Maybe things weren’t as complicated as you’d thought. This could very well be the universe giving you a second chance. Perhaps now you can approach him without the weight of false assumptions.

You shook your head slowly, processing the revelation. “What am I even gonna do about it? It’s not like I had a shot in the first place.”

Jaemin chuckled mischievously. “I don’t know why you’re saying that, but I think you have a clear shot.”

“Yeah. You can’t give up now after everything you’ve done so far!”

Haechan giggled beside Sienna. “Did anyone else notice that whenever we do Spa Day, we get juicy girl conversations like this?”

Leave it to Haechan to ruin an otherwise lovely moment. As you laughed along with your friends, you felt a renewed sense of hope. Maybe this time, things could turn out differently.

The familiar scent of freshly cut wood and the sound of saws and sanders filled the air as you entered the Carpentry workshop. Your eyes scanned the room, landing on Jeno. He was already there, engrossed in his work, brows furrowed in concentration as he shaped a piece of wood.

Oddly, it felt gratifying to see him now knowing he wasn’t actually in love with someone. The sight of him always made your heart race, but today it felt different—more hopeful. You walked over to your workstation, trying to appear casual while stealing glances at him.

Jeno looked up and caught your eye, giving you a small, friendly nod. You returned the gesture, feeling a warm flutter in your chest. The knowledge that Jeno was single was a game-changer, but pursuing a relationship with him was an entirely different dilemma. You first needed to figure out if he even liked you at all.

Just the thought of being rejected was already bruising your pride and crushing your spirit. For now, you were resolved to act as normally as possible around him and avoid revealing your feelings.

You smiled, feeling a little self-conscious. Relax, you told yourself. It’s not like he—or anyone else—can read your mind. “Actually, yeah. Could you show me how to get this joint right?”

“Sure thing,” he said, his voice calm and patient. He walked over, and you held your breath nervously as he stood close to you. Trying to focus on his instructions, you found your gaze fixated on his lips.

“You got that?” he asked, eyes meeting yours.

You blinked, surprised and confused. “Sorry?”

Jeno chuckled lightly. “It’ll be easier if I just show you. Here.”

He took your hands in his, placing them on the piece of wood. The warmth from his skin seeped onto yours, sending a blush to your already burning cheeks. You mentally scolded yourself for being awkward and reminded yourself to breathe or you’d pass out.

Unaware of your mental struggle, Jeno guided your hands deftly, showing you the right angle. “See? It’s all about the angle,” he said, glancing up and catching your gaze. You quickly looked away, cheeks flushing.

“Got it,” you mumbled, attempting to steady your racing heart. Whatever happened to not being obvious? you screamed in your head.

As he continued to explain, you found yourself relaxing, letting his steady presence and soothing voice calm your nerves. You managed to follow his instructions, feeling a small surge of triumph when you finally got it right.

“There you go,” Jeno said with a smile, his eyes twinkling with approval. “You’re a natural.”

“Thanks,” you replied, trying to sound casual despite the butterflies in your stomach.

“Anytime,” he said, still standing close.

As days turned into weeks, you found yourself admiring Jeno more and more. His dedication to the project was evident in every detail, from the meticulous sanding of each piece to the careful assembly of the frame. He was not just talented but also incredibly kind and encouraging, always ready with a smile or a reassuring word when you struggled with a task.

One afternoon, as you both worked on the chair’s reclining mechanism, Jeno glanced over at you, his expression thoughtful. “You’ve got a real knack for this,” he said, his voice warm with sincerity. “I’m impressed.”

Your heart fluttered at his compliment, and you felt a rush of gratitude. “Thanks, Jeno. I couldn’t have done it without your help,” you replied, meeting his gaze.

Your admiration for him grew with each shared glance and quiet conversation. During breaks, you chatted about everything from school to personal interests, laughing together over jokes and enjoying companionable silence. The air between you was charged with a growing sense of familiarity and ease.

“Do you have any hobbies outside of this?” he asked one day, genuinely curious.

“I love photography,” you admitted, feeling more comfortable sharing your passions with him. “Though I’m not very good at it. I like to sketch too, sometimes.”

“Oh yeah. The sketch you made for this chair was awesome. It looked like you can actually touch the details,” Jeno said, a smile spreading across his face.

“Yeah, you already told me that,” you chimed.

“Maybe you could show me some of your work sometime.”

“Hmm. I only show it to my close friends,” you teased, grinning at him when he clutched his chest pretending to be hurt by your words.

“Four weeks of being partners and I still don’t count as a close friend?” he questioned, face contorted in mock offense and curiosity.

“You're overreacting. Four weeks is only eight days for us, Jeno Lee. We have Carpentry class on Tuesdays and Thursdays only.”

“But we worked on this outside class last Friday.”

“Once. That’s nine days. Still not a lot of time,” you quipped. It was gradual but the boundaries between project partners and friends began to blur for you and Jeno, which is why you now feel comfortable just hanging out and joking around like this. Although you’re still gaga about him and get butterflies over the smallest gestures, you no longer get tongue-tied or nervous around him.

You went from sneaking glances at him in the cafeteria to sharing lunch together twice. From admiring him quietly in the quad or the library to smiling and saying ‘Hi’. You were definitely friends now, although not as close. It was a welcome change, making you look forward to every school day.

One particularly memorable afternoon, you both struggled with the final adjustments to the chair. You have been working on this mechanism for a while now and still couldn’t get it to work properly. You’ve done everything you possibly could, even getting hands-on help from your professor.

“Now, then,” Mr Harris said, wiping the sweat on his forehead. “Try that again.”

You nodded, feeling a surge of determination. Working together, you managed to align the pieces perfectly, and the chair finally reclined smoothly. There were quiet gasps in the classroom while you and Jeno stared at each other with mouths hanging open.

“Oh my god!” you exclaimed, hands flying over your mouth. Quietly, you added, “We did it.”

Jeno’s smile was warm and relieved. “We did it,” he echoed.

.Overwhelmed with joy, you threw your arms around his neck, and he hugged you back, lifting you slightly off your feet. Realizing belatedly that you were hugging Jeno made you hyper-aware of the moment. You shyly pulled away, glancing anywhere but at him. Mr. Harris was clapping behind him, making you smile gratefully.

Being lifted made you hyper-aware, realizing belatedly that you were hugging Jeno. You shyly pulled away, glancing anywhere else but Jeno. Mr Harris was clapping behind him, making you smile gratefully.

“Thanks, sir!” you told your professor.

“Mr. Harris was putting you up for failure when he assigned you the reclining chair,” one of your classmates quipped, walking over to examine your work.

You laughed lightly, watching your other classmates approach your worktable. Your eyes met Jeno’s among your classmates, and he showed you a thumbs-up which you returned with a smile. Your heart was beating wildly in your chest as your mind replayed the part where you were hugging Jeno over and over.

Jeno approached you with a proud smile in his eyes. “We did it!” he said, giving you a high-five that lingered just a moment longer than necessary. The brief contact sent a thrill through you, a reminder of how much you enjoyed being close to him.

Mr. Harris announced that the projects would be judged by other professors, which would impact your grades. Every pair had completed their pieces—tables, lamps, chairs, and more. While yours might not be the prettiest, you hoped it would get the recognition it deserved.

After class, as students cleaned up, Jeno pointed out something that made you laugh. “You’ve got a lot of pens and pencils,” he said, eyebrows raised and eyes wide. “Like, a lot.”

“That’s not even half of them. I keep buying them for no reason. It’s hoarding at this point,” you admitted with a sheepish grin.

“Hmm. I see,” he responded, still amused. He leaned on the worktable, his backpack slung over one shoulder. “You must write a lot. Or draw.”

“Like I told you before, I sketch. And I do write, but not as much as you think. Even if I did, the sheer volume of pens I have is excessive. I think I need to see a psychiatrist for this,” you joked, shaking your head.

Jeno shook his head, “I don’t think so. Everyone is allowed their own harmless obsession. Mine is probably weirder.”

Your curiosity piqued, you asked, “Oh really? What’s yours?”

He hesitated, a glint of embarrassment in his eyes. “Nah, you don’t wanna know.”

Sometimes it was frustrating that Jeno was completely clueless about your massive crush on him. If he had even the slightest clue, he’d know you were definitely—absolutely—totally, interested in anything and everything about him.

“Actually, I do,” you replied, trying to tone down your interest to the Not-So-Obsessed-With-Him Level.

Jeno looked away, scratching his nape. “Forget it. Let’s just go.”

“Oh come on, you can’t say something like that and then not tell me!” you protested, playfully nudging him.

After some pestering, he finally confessed, “When I was in high school, I liked keeping confetti.”

“Confetti?”

“Not just any confetti. Only the ones from our basketball games. The ones where we win. Like a little memento.”

You smiled at his revelation, zipping your bag after you finished packing your stuff. “That’s actually really cute.”

“No, it’s not,” he said, looking away shyly with his ears reddening out of embarrassment.

“It is!” you insisted, letting him take your bag after he stopped you from wearing it over your shoulder. “Didn’t you say everyone is allowed their own harmless obsessions?”

“Alright… I guess?” Jeno shrugged, a shy smile making his cheeks burn. You walked out of the classroom together, your bag in his hand. “I have them in small ziplock bags.”

You couldn’t help but laugh. “Why ziplock bags? Don’t you have a jar or something?”

“I do, but it’s easier to organize them with ziplock bags.”

“How about a scrapbook? You could glue them in and write about them.”

“Uh… no thanks. I’m not at all artistic or craftsy.”

“You were good with woodworking though.”

“That’s different.”

The project is nearly complete. You realized how much you cherished these moments with Jeno. The reclining chair, with its smooth lines and functional elegance, stood as a testament to your combined efforts and growing friendship. But more than that, it symbolized the bond you had forged through hard work, shared dreams, and mutual respect. The realization filled you with a quiet sense of joy and hope that this closeness would continue to grow even after the project ended.

[To be continued in Part 2]

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