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THE TATTOO ON MY RING FINGER â sim jaeyun
His neglect wasnât an accidentâit was a choice, one you kept excusing as âbusyâ while swallowing your hurt and waiting for him to care enough to show up. The harsh truth? He simply didn't care enough to make the effort. Remember this, ladies: if he truly wanted to, he would. "Busy" is just another word for âasshole.â And âassholeâ is another word for the man youâre married to.
word count: 22k
pairing: ceo!jake x fem!reader
featuring: enhypen, wonyoung from ive
genre: marriage of convenience, slow burn romance, enemies to lovers (kinda), second chance romance, angst
warnings: this story contains dynamics of a toxic relationship, angst and miscommunication at its peak, sensitive power dynamics, mild depictions of violence, themes of loneliness and low self-worth, implications of infidelity (no actual cheating), rich people drama, jake is kind of an asshole, sunghoon and wonyoung are married in this fic for plot purpose.
disclaimer: this is a work of pure fiction. If any context is similar to any other stories, it's either inspired (in which credit will be given) or just a coincidence. the characters' personalities, words, actions and thoughts do not represent them in real life. any resemblance to any real life events or person, present or past, are purely coincidental. i apologise in advance for any spelling or grammar mistakes. characters are aged up for plot purpose.
notes from nat: inspired by when the phone rings cause i love the colour red /hj. highly recommended to read with the playlist i curated in order! without further ado, enjoy!
tags: #tfwy thetattooonmyringfinger #tfwy au
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They say if heâs not calling, itâs because youâre not on his mind. The first time you heard it, you shrugged it off. Of course, it wasnât true. He was busy, wasnât he? Busy with work, with meetings, with people who needed his attention more than you did in that moment. You told yourself it wasn't personal when the texts became shorter, when the phone calls grew less frequent, when the hours between hearing from him stretched into days.
But over time, the silence becomes heavier. The excuses, sharper. If he promised to be home by eight and didnât show until eleven, it was work. If he forgot to call when he said he would, it was exhaustion.
You let these small disappointments settle into the cracks of your relationship, a habit you didnât even notice forming until you could barely remember what it felt like to be a priority.Â
You tell yourself heâs under pressure, that heâs got a lot on his plate. But deep down, thereâs a gnawing thought that wonât leave you alone: If he wanted to, he would. If he cared, heâd show up. Not just in the big moments, but in the small, forgettable onesâthe ones that donât require much but say everything. A text to check in, a call to ask how your day went. Something to remind you that you matter, that you still have a place in the life he leads without you.
But the truth settles in like a bitter cold creeping under your skin: he doesnât think about you the way you think about him.
When heâs late, when he misses promises, when he leaves you waitingâitâs not a fluke. Itâs a choice. And the more you excuse it, the more he learns that itâs okay to disappoint you, that your needs can always wait. Heâs fine with it because he doesnât have to feel the weight of your frustration, your sadness, your growing resentment.
"Busy" has become his favourite shield, his go-to excuse for everything. But âbusyâ is just another way of saying, "I donât care enough." âBusyâ is what he hides behind when he doesnât want to confront the fact that heâs letting you down, over and over again.Â
And each time, you forgive him. Each time, you swallow your hurt, tell yourself itâs not a big deal, and convince yourself to wait a little longer for him to make the effort youâre aching for.
But deep down, you know. "Busy" is another word for âasshole.â And âassholeâ is another word for the man youâre married to.
âĄă·ËË· ·ËË·ăâĄ
A marriage of convenienceâthatâs what you call this arrangement with Sim Jaeyun. Itâs the only thing you can call it. Nothing about it feels real. No feelings. No chemistry. No intimacy. Just labels and the sweet, sweet promise of partnership, sweetened further by the monetary incentive that comes with it.Â
A deal dressed up as love.
At least, thatâs how Jaeyun sees it. For you, it wasnât always so simple.
You entered this marriage with no great love for him, true enough. Just a sense of duty and loyalty to your parents, to the company, to everything youâve been raised to uphold as the eldest daughter of your family.
Jaeyunâs aloofness during your first meeting confirmed your suspicions that he felt the same. He was another child born with a silver spoon, another soul sacrificed to family ambition. Like you, he couldnât complain about marrying someone he didnât love because his parents had done it before him.
Putting aside the whole nature of your marriage, Jaeyun wasnât a bad man.
In fact, he was decent. Polished. Accomplished. Sim Jaeyun had graduated summa cum laude from an Ivy League and, at twenty-eight, was already a legend in business circles.
They called him The Prodigyâa nickname that reverberated in the boardrooms of the elite. Women flocked to him, drawn by his sharp intellect, his undeniable charm, and, of course, his devastating good looks.
Youâd rather bite your tongue than admit it, but heâs the most attractive man youâve ever laid eyes on. Sim Jaeyun could make anyoneâs heart race with just a glance. If you had to be forced into this sham of a marriage, at least you could say you were tied to someone who didnât make you cringe every time you looked at him.
In the beginning, you played your roles so well that even you almost believed it.
To the press, to the public, you were the Dreamlike Couple. The perfect pair. Youâpoised and graceful, the epitome of elegance. Himâdriven and magnetic, a man at the pinnacle of success. Together, you seemed untouchable, the kind of pairing that only existed in fairy tales.
It was a dream. For a time.
Marrying into the Sim family meant becoming the perfect housewife, a shadow to Jaeyunâs brilliance. Your days revolved around himâensuring his comfort, supporting his exhausting nine-to-five (more like nine-to-midnight) grind.
And in return, Jaeyun played his part too. He brought you flowers, sat across from you at candlelit dinners, and whisked you away for picture-perfect dates on the rare weekends he wasnât buried in work.
It wasnât love, but it was enough. And slowly, against all your better instincts, you fell for him.
You fell for himânot all at once, but slowly, like the steady drip of a leaking faucet, each drop carving its way into your heart.Â
It was in the small, unexpected moments: the way his eyes softened when he asked if you were settling in well, the rare, fleeting smile that lit up his otherwise composed face, the quiet patience with which he listened when you nervously rambled about your day.Â
He was kind in ways that felt almost invisible, offering you a coat when you forgot yours, leaving your favourite coffee on the counter without a word, defending you in meetings with his parents when they criticised your choices. It wasnât the grand gestures that pulled you in, but the subtletiesâthe way he seemed to remember the little things about you, like the books you loved or the songs that made you hum along absentmindedly.
You started to believe, naively perhaps, that behind the formalities and the distance, there was something real. Something that could grow.
And in those moments, you let your guard down, foolishly allowing hope to slip through the cracks of your carefully constructed defences.
But what started as a dream turned into a slow-brewing nightmare.
It took a year.
Just one year for the cracks in Jaeyunâs performance to show. Maybe he got tired of pretending. Maybe the strain of coming home to a wife he didnât love became too much. Whatever it was, the distance between you started to grow.
The flowers stopped coming. The dinners grew silent, then ceased altogether. Dates became a thing of the past. The man who once made you feel like you were part of his world now barely acknowledged your existence.
You tried to rationalise it at first. He was busy, wasnât he? Work was demanding. Meetings ran late. Deadlines piled up. Days would pass without a word from him.
But the excuses only held for so long. Because deep down, you knew. If Jaeyun wanted to, he would. If he cared, heâd find the time. He wouldnât leave you sitting alone at the dinner table or waiting for a call that never came. He wouldnât let the silence stretch until it swallowed what little connection you had left.
And yet, you forgave him. Over and over again. Each missed promise. Each broken gesture. You told yourself it wasnât a big deal, that you could bear it. But with every disappointment you let slide, Jaeyun learned he could let you down without consequence.
Now, as you lie awake in the vast emptiness of your bedâyes, your bed, in your room, the one he rarely steps foot in anymoreâyou canât help but wonder: Was it ever real? Did he ever try, even for a moment? Or had he always been this indifferent, just more skilled at masking it in the beginning?
Sim Jaeyunâthe prodigy, the golden boy, the man you once dared to believe you could build a life withâhas become little more than a stranger. A stranger who wears a ring that matches yours, yet feels worlds apart. And here you are, left holding the shattered pieces of a marriage that, in truth, was never whole to begin with.
You shouldâve known, from the moment he slipped that ring onto your fingerâa ring just a fraction too tightâthat you were always going to feel suffocated. It was a perfect metaphor, really.
Now, every time you return homeâwhether itâs from mingling with the polished wives of his business partners, or from a solitary stroll in the parkâyou make a ritual of sliding the ring off, desperate to feel untethered, if only for a little while.
But no matter how many times you remove it, you can never truly escape him. Because the ring, with the way it pressed into your skin, leaves its imprintâa faint indentation that lingers long after itâs gone, marking you not as a partner but as a possession of the Sim family.
It feels like a cruel irony, that even without the ring, Sim Jaeyunâs grasp remains, his mark on you inerasable, etched into your skin and your soul like a tattoo.
The clock on the wall ticks steadily, mocking you with its rhythmic precision as the evening stretches into night. The once-flickering hope youâd clung toâthat Jaeyun might remember this dayâhas long since withered, replaced by a familiar, hollow ache.
The dining table is set, the soft glow of candles casting shadows across the untouched plates. Youâd debated with yourself earlier, wondering if it was worth the effort. But some stubborn part of you refused to let the day pass unnoticed.
After all, itâs your wedding anniversary. Even if Jaeyun doesnât care, you do.
By the time the clock strikes eleven, the candles have burned low, the food long gone cold. You sit in the dim light, your hands clasped tightly in your lap, willing yourself not to cry.
When the front door finally opens, the faint sound of Jaeyunâs footsteps echoes through the house. He steps into the living room, his tie loosened and his hair slightly disheveled.
He looks tiredâno, careless. He doesnât even notice the table or the candles.
"Youâre still awake?" he asks, his tone neutral, almost surprised.
You rise slowly, your voice calm despite the storm raging inside you. "Itâs our anniversary, Jaeyun."
He freezes, his brows knitting together as if trying to recall something important. The blank look on his face confirms what you already knew. He forgot.
"Shit," he mutters, rubbing the back of his neck. "Iâm sorry. Work was crazy today. I didnâtâ"
"Donât," you cut him off, your voice trembling. "Donât tell me it was work. Donât make another excuse."
He looks at you, clearly unprepared for the edge in your tone. "Itâs not an excuse. I was genuinely busy."
"Busy," you repeat, the word dripping with bitterness. "Youâre always busy, Jaeyun. Too busy to call, too busy to show up, too busy to even remember the day we got married. Do you even care at all?"
His expression hardens, and he steps closer, his tone defensive. "Of course I care. But I have responsibilities, and I canât just drop everythingâ"
"Responsibilities?" you snap, your voice rising. "What about your responsibility to me? To this marriage? Or does that come last, after work and meetings and everything else that apparently matters more than I do?"
"You act like I donât try," he snaps, his tone sharper now. "I work my ass off to give us a good life, to make sure you have everything you need."
"I donât need your money, Jaeyun!" you shout, your anger finally spilling over. "I need you! I need a husband who shows up, who cares, who remembers things that matter. But instead, I get thisâthis stranger who walks through the door whenever he feels like it and expects me to be okay with it."
He sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Youâre overreacting."
The words hit you like a slap. "Overreacting?" you echo, incredulous. "You think Iâm overreacting because Iâm upset that you forgot our anniversary? Because Iâm tired of being the only one who gives a damn about this marriage?"
His eyes darken, and his frustration boils over. "Thatâs because it isnât real!" he snaps, his words slicing through the air like a blade.
You freeze, the weight of his admission sinking into your chest.
"This marriage," he continues, his tone sharp and unrelenting, "was never about love. It was a deal. You knew that going in. So donât stand there acting like I owe you something I never promised."
His words hit you like a sledgehammer to the face, leaving you momentarily breathless.
"I knew what it was," you say, your voice shaking but steadying as the anger flares in your chest. "But I didnât sign up to be treated like Iâm invisible. I didnât agree to be an afterthought, Jaeyun. Iâve been tryingâtryingâto make this work. And what have you done? Youâve shut me out. Youâve made it clear, over and over, that I donât matter."
Jaeyun exhales harshly, rubbing the back of his neck. "I didnât mean it like that," he mutters.
"Yes, you did," you say, your voice soft but cold. "And thatâs the worst part. You meant every word."
The silence between you is deafening. Jaeyun doesnât apologise, doesnât take back what he said. He just stands there, his expression unreadable, as if waiting for the conversation to end.
Finally, Jaeyun exhales, his shoulders slumping slightly. "I donât know what you want me to say," he mutters.
"I donât want you to say anything," you reply, your voice quieter now but no less firm. "I want you to do something. But I donât think youâre capable of that, are you?"
He doesnât answer, and the silence feels like confirmation.
You swallow the lump in your throat, tears threatening to spill but held back by sheer force of will. "I donât know why I keep hoping for more from you," you whisper. "Youâve made it clear that Iâll never get it."
Without waiting for his response, you turn and walk away, leaving him standing alone in the living room. The weight in your chest grows heavier with each step, but you donât look back. Once inside your room, you close the door softly behind you, the sound somehow softer than the silence that follows.
Sitting on the edge of the bed, you let out a shaky breath and yank the ring off your finger as if itâs searing your skin. Itâs almost instinctual, the need to rid yourself of the weight of itâthe reminder of promises that were never real. You clutch the ring tightly in your palm for a moment before tossing it onto the nightstand with a dull clink.
You stare down at your hand, at the faint imprint left behind, the tattoo burned into your ring finger. No matter how many times you take the ring off, the mark remains, mocking you with its permanence.Â
A bitter laugh escapes your lips as tears prick your eyes, the ache in your chest impossible to ignore. You press your hands to your face, trying to smother the sob threatening to break free.
Back in the living room, the faint crackle of dying candles echoes in the stillness. Jaeyun doesnât follow. He doesnât knock on the door, doesnât call your name. He stays where you left him, as he always does, letting the silence speak for him.
The last candle sputters out, plunging the house into darkness. You lie back on the bed, staring at the ceiling, your chest hollow but your mind racing.Â
The ring is now firmly back on your finger, snug against the faint tattoo that refuses to fade.
You sit outside the cafĂ© you frequent so often that the barista doesnât even ask for your order anymore, simply bringing your tea the way you like it. The faint clink of ceramic against the table pulls you from your thoughts, and you wrap your hands around the warm cup, as if it can somehow melt the cold ache inside you.
You stir your tea aimlessly, watching the steam spiral into the cool autumn air. Across from you, Wonyoung sits with her usual effortless grace, her beige trench coat draped neatly over her chair, her gold earrings catching the soft light.
"Alright," Wonyoung begins, placing her cup down with a decisive clink. "Spill. Youâve had that look on your face all morning. Whatâs going on?"
You sigh, leaning back in your chair as the weight of her gaze settles on you. Wonyoung isnât just your best friendâsheâs family now, married to your brother, Sunghoon. That makes her one of the few people who can truly see through you, no matter how much you try to hide.
"Itâs nothing," you mutter, though your voice betrays you.
"Thatâs a terrible lie, and you know it," she says, narrowing her eyes. "Is it Jaeyun again?"
The mention of his name sends a pang through your chest, and you glance away, focusing on the street outside. "Itâs always Jaeyun," you admit quietly. "I feel like⊠Iâm stuck. He doesnât care, Wonyoung. About me, about us, about anything that isnât his work or his image. Yesterday was the three year anniversary of our marriage. He forgot, and I donât even know why Iâm still trying."
Her jaw tightens, her usually soft expression hardening in a way you rarely see. "That bastard," she mutters under her breath, leaning forward. "You know, Iâve been keeping my mouth shut for months because I didnât want to overstep, but Iâm this close to calling him out. He doesnât deserve you. Not even a little."
You try to smile, but itâs weak, and the ache in your chest doesnât ease. "Itâs not that simple," you say, voice barely above a whisper. "I signed up for this. I knew what it was. And heâs not awful, you know? Heâs just⊠distant. Cold."
Wonyoung reaches across the table, her hand warm as it wraps around yours. Her grip is firm, grounding. "Listen to me," she says, her voice steady and fierce. "You deserve more than 'not awful.' You deserve someone who looks at you the way Sunghoon looks at me when I burn toast. Like youâre the best thing thatâs ever happened to them, no matter how messy or imperfect things get."
Her words bring a faint smile to your lips. Youâve always envied the dynamic between Wonyoung and Sunghoonâhow they somehow balance each other perfectly. "You and Sunghoon," you say softly, "you make it look so easy."
Wonyoung chuckles, leaning back in her chair. "It wasnât always like that. Do you remember how we met?"
You nod vaguely, but she doesnât wait for an answer.
"It was at one of those insufferable charity galas," she says, rolling her eyes. "I was cornered by some overzealous CEO trying to pitch his latest venture, and Sunghoon swooped in out of nowhere, pretending we were old friends to rescue me."
A small laugh escapes you as you picture it. "Classic Sunghoon."
"Right?" Wonyoung grins. "I thought he was just being polite, but then he started showing up at every event I attended. At first, I thought it was a coincidence, but your brother isnât exactly subtle."
"Heâs not," you agree with a smile.
"One day, he asked me to dinnerâno pretense, no excuse. Just, âWonyoung, letâs go out.â And⊠I donât know. He wasnât like the other guys. He didnât treat me like some prize to win or a business deal to close. He just wanted me."
The warmth in her voice tugs at something in your chest, a bittersweet ache. "And the rest is history," you say softly.
"Not quite." Wonyoung smirks. "Do you know he proposed to me on the ice rink? He can barely skate, but he insisted on doing it there because I mentioned once how much I loved skating as a kid. He spent more time falling than kneeling."
The image of your brotherâstoic, composed Sunghoonâfumbling on the ice (LOL) makes you laugh, the sound spilling out unexpectedly.
"Thatâs Sunghoon for you," you say, shaking your head. "Always dramatic."
"But always sincere," Wonyoung says, her expression softening. "And thatâs my point. Love isnât about grand gestures or perfection. Itâs about showing up, every day, even when itâs hard. Jaeyun doesnât do that for you, and it breaks my heart to see you settling for so little when you deserve so much more.
Her analogy draws a laugh from you, even if itâs faint. "Itâs not like I can just leave," you say softly. "You know how our families are. It would be a scandal. And, honestly, what would I even do? This marriage is all I have right now."
"No," Wonyoung says sharply, her voice cutting through your doubt. "You are so much more than this marriage. And if Jaeyun or your family canât see that, then screw them."
Her conviction startles you, and you blink at her, taken aback. Wonyoung is always poised, diplomatic, rarely letting her emotions boil over. But now her eyes burn with a protectiveness that makes your throat tighten.
"You know what you need?" she says, her tone softening slightly. "A break. Come stay with Sunghoon and me for a while. Iâll make him cook for usâhe owes me after shrinking my favourite sweater last week."
You chuckle despite yourself, the image of Sunghoon fumbling in the kitchen almost absurd. "Sunghoon? Cooking? Are you trying to punish me?"
Wonyoung grins, mischief flickering in her eyes. "Okay, fine, Iâll cook. But seriously, think about it. You donât have to keep carrying this weight on your own. Iâm here. Always."
Her words settle over you like a blanket, warm and reassuring. Wonyoung has always been your safe haven, her loyalty a reminder that not everyone in your life sees you as a means to an end.
"Thanks, Wony," you say softly, giving her hand a small squeeze.
"Anytime," she replies, her smile warm and genuine. Then, with a dramatic sigh, she leans back in her chair. "Now, letâs talk about something that doesnât make me want to hunt Jaeyun down and throttle him. Did you see the dress Jennie wore to that gala last week? Gorgeous, but the heelsâugh, pure torture."
You laugh, grateful for the change in topic. For the first time in what feels like forever, the weight on your chest feels lighter. Wonyoung chats animatedly, her presence a rare moment of warmth in the cold, suffocating reality of your life.
The house is quiet, save for the faint ticking of the clock in the hallway. You sit curled up on the couch, a book open in your lap, though the words blur together as your thoughts wander. The faint scent of candles lingers in the air, remnants of a night spent trying to make this house feel like a home.
When the front door opens, you donât look up immediately. Jaeyun steps inside, his footsteps heavy against the hardwood floor. You can hear him shrug off his coat and place his bag on the console table, his movements measured. He doesnât call out for you, and you wonder if he assumes youâre already asleep.
It isnât until he steps into the living room that you glance up. His tie is loosened, and his shirt is slightly wrinkledâa rare imperfection in the man who always seems so put-together.
"Hey," he says softly, his voice hesitant.
You close your book, setting it aside as you nod. "Hi."
Jaeyun stands there for a moment, his hands in his pockets, as if unsure how to proceed. The silence stretches, the weight of your last argument hanging between you like an unwelcome guest.
"Can we talk?" he finally asks, his tone tentative.
You sit up straighter, your heart tightening. "What about?"
He exhales, running a hand through his hair as he sits down on the armchair across from you. "About us," he says, his gaze flickering to yours. "About everything."
The sincerity in his voice catches you off guard, and for a moment, hope flutters in your chest. Maybe heâs ready to finally have the conversation youâve been waiting for.
"Okay," you say quietly, folding your hands in your lap.
"I know Iâve been⊠distant," Jaeyun begins, his voice low. "And I know itâs been hard for you. For us. But Iâm trying, I really am."
You nod, though the words feel empty, familiar in a way that makes your chest ache. "What does âtryingâ mean to you, Jaeyun?"
He hesitates, his brow furrowing. "It means Iâm doing everything I can to balance everything. Work, this marriageâ"
"Work," you cut in, your tone sharper than you intended. "It always comes back to work, doesnât it?"
Jaeyun frowns, leaning forward slightly. "Itâs not just about work. You know how demanding my job is. Itâs not like I can just drop everything."
"Iâm not asking you to drop everything," you say, your voice trembling with frustration. "Iâm asking you to show up. To put me first, just once. To prove that this marriage means something to you beyond a contract."
"I do care," he insists, his voice rising slightly. "Why do you think I work so hard? Iâm doing this for usâfor you."
"No, Jaeyun," you reply, shaking your head. "Youâre doing this for you. For your image, for your career. Donât pretend this is about us when you canât even remember the last time you asked me how Iâm doing."
He opens his mouth to respond, then closes it, his jaw tightening. "Iâm trying," he says again, but it sounds more like a defense than a promise.
You lean back against the couch, the faint hope you felt earlier slipping through your fingers. "Trying isnât enough," you say softly.
The words hang in the air, heavy and unrelenting. Jaeyun looks at you, his expression conflicted, as if heâs searching for something to say that will fix this. But instead, he leans back in his chair, his hands gripping the armrests.
"I have a big meeting tomorrow," he says finally, his tone almost apologetic. "But we can talk more after. Okay?"
You let out a bitter laugh, shaking your head as you look away. "Of course," you murmur. "After work."
Jaeyun flinches at the sarcasm in your voice but doesnât argue. Instead, he stands, running a hand through his hair as he glances toward the hallway. "Iâll see you in the morning," he says quietly before walking away.
You donât respond, your gaze fixed on the flickering candle on the coffee table. The room feels emptier than it did before he arrived, the silence colder, more suffocating.
The sound of his footsteps fades as he retreats to his office, leaving you alone with the oppressive quiet of the house. The weight of his absence feels heavier than the space he occupied just moments ago, pressing down on your chest.
Youâre angry. Furious, even. The kind of anger that comes not from one isolated hurt but from countless small disappointments piling up into something unbearable. You feel wronged, neglected, like a ghost haunting a house that was never really yours to begin with.
To make matters worse, his words from yesterday night echo in your mind, sharp and cutting: "This marriage isnât real."
And youâre remindedâagainâof what you shouldnât need reminding of. Jaeyun wasnât wrong. This marriage, with its polished façade and perfect pretenses, was built on nothing but a deal. A contract. A partnership that never promised love, only convenience.
You shouldnât be holding him to the vows he read off a script prepared by his secretary, each word meticulously chosen for the press release that followed your wedding. You shouldnât be expecting more from him when you went into this deal without any expectations.
Heâs right, as always. He always is.
You just hate to admit it.
You hate that youâve let yourself forget the terms. Hate that youâve let hope slip through the cracks and take root where it was never meant to grow. You hate that his indifference, while expected, still feels like rejection. And you hate that despite everythingâdespite the truth youâve known from the beginningâyou still feel like youâve been betrayed.
Jaeyun didnât lie to you. He didnât promise anything he hasnât delivered. Youâre the one who strayed from the script, letting feelings creep in where they had no business being.
But even knowing that, the ache doesnât fade. It settles deeper, rooting itself in your chest like a splinter you canât quite remove.
Itâs fake, you tell yourself again. But no matter how many times you repeat it, it doesnât feel any less real to you.
The house feels colder now, the weight of Jaeyunâs indifference wrapping around you like a heavy fog. In the distance, you can faintly hear Jaeyun moving around in his office, his presence more distant than the sound of wind outside your window.Â
You sit on the couch, staring at nothing in particular, your thoughts circling back to the offer Wonyoung extended to you at the café.
It hits you like a revelation, though it shouldnât. Some time away from Jaeyun, from this house, from the constant ache of trying and failing, might be exactly what you need. You exhale sharply, almost laughing at yourself. Geez, what took you so long to figure that out?
Before you can second-guess the idea, you pick up your phone and dial Wonyoungâs number. She answers on the first ring.
"Hey," she says brightly, as if sheâs been waiting for your call.
"Is your offer still open?" you ask hesitantly, gripping the phone tighter.
"Of course it is," she replies without missing a beat. "When do you want me to pick you up?"
"Now?" you say, wincing slightly at how desperate you sound.
"Perfect," she chirps. "Give me ten minutes."
And she delivers, just as she always does. Not even ten minutes later, you hear the low purr of a car engine outside your gate. You peek out the window to see Wonyoung and her bright pink Porsche, the car gleaming under the streetlights. Sheâs leaning against the driverâs side door, sunglasses perched softly atop her nose, her effortless glamour making her look like sheâs stepped out of a magazine shoot.
She waves when she spots you. "Come on!" she calls, her voice light but filled with purpose. "Grab your things and get in."
You hesitate for a moment, glancing back at the house. Itâs quiet, the kind of quiet that feels heavy, oppressive. You donât even know if Jaeyun has noticed youâre still sitting out here, much less that youâre about to leave.
Shaking off the thought, you grab an overnight bag youâd hastily packed and head out. As you reach the car, Wonyoung slides her sunglasses down slightly to look at you, her expression softening.
"You donât have to explain anything right now," she says, opening the passenger door for you. "Just get in."
You slip into the car, the plush leather seats a stark contrast to the cold, hard reality youâve been living. As soon as youâre buckled in, Wonyoung cranks up the musicâa pop song you vaguely recogniseâand pulls away from the gate with a flourish.
"You did the right thing," she says after a moment, glancing over at you. "Sometimes, you just need space to see things clearly."
You nod, though the knot in your chest hasnât quite loosened. Still, as the familiar streets blur past and Wonyoungâs confident energy fills the car, you feel the faintest flicker of relief.
The soft hum of the kettle fills Wonyoung and Sunghoonâs kitchen, blending with the faint sound of rain tapping against the window. Wonyoung hums as she busies herself making tea, while you sit at the counter, wrapped in a blanket she insisted you take the moment you arrived. Itâs warm hereânot just from the heater, but from the unmistakable feeling of being cared for, a sensation youâve been starved of for far too long.
"I swear, this house is the only place where I donât feel like Iâm suffocating," you admit softly, watching the steam curl up from your cup.
"Youâre always welcome here," Wonyoung says, placing a hand on your shoulder. "Even if Sunghoon pretends to be annoyed, you know he loves having you around."
The sound of footsteps descending the stairs interrupts her, and Sunghoon appears in the doorway, his hair damp from a shower. His sharp features are set in an expression of irritation that immediately reminds you of how he looked when you were both kids and heâd caught someone picking on you.
"Youâre staying the weekend, right?" Sunghoon asks, crossing his arms as he leans against the doorframe.
You hesitate, fiddling with the edge of your blanket. "If itâs okay. I donât want to imposeâ"
"Impose?" Sunghoon cuts you off, his voice firm. "You think youâre imposing by needing space from that asshole? Please. Stay as long as you want."
You wince slightly at his tone. Sunghoon rarely speaks about Jaeyun directly, but you know heâs never approved of how distant your marriage has become. And now, with you physically seeking refuge in his home, it seems his patience has run out.
"Sunghoon," Wonyoung warns gently, though sheâs clearly on your side.
"No, babe, she needs to hear this," Sunghoon says, stepping closer. His dark eyes meet yours, softening just slightly. "You deserve so much better than how he treats you. Iâve kept quiet because I thought maybe heâd figure it out, but he hasnât. And I donât know what itâll take for you to realise that youâre too good for him."
"Sunghoon," you mumble, feeling a lump rise in your throat.
"Youâve given him everything," he continues, his voice tight with anger, "and what has he done? He keeps you at armâs length, barely puts in the effort, and makes you question your own worth. If he canât see how incredible you are, then screw him."
"Sunghoon, thatâs enough," Wonyoung says firmly, though her eyes flick to you with concern.
Sunghoon exhales, running a hand through his hair. "Iâm sorry," he mutters, his tone softening. "I just⊠I hate seeing you like this. Youâre my sister. Iâm supposed to protect you."
You blink rapidly, fighting back tears. "I know," you whisper. "And I appreciate it. But itâs complicated."
"It doesnât have to be," he replies, his voice low.
Before you can respond, your phone buzzes on the counter. The screen lights up with a notification, and your stomach twists when you see the name: Jaeyun.
Wonyoung leans over, glancing at the screen. "Let me guess," she says dryly. "Heâs just now noticing youâre not home."
You bite your lip, hesitating before picking up the phone. The message is short, as always.
Jaeyun: Where are you?
Itâs not the words that make your chest tighten, but the tone you imagine as you read themâdetached, almost transactional. Thereâs no concern, no affection. Just a question, as if youâre a misplaced item he needs to locate.
Sunghoon notices your reaction immediately. "What did he say?" he asks, his voice sharp again.
You hold up the phone, showing him the message. His expression darkens, and Wonyoung sighs, placing a hand on his arm.
"Donât," she says softly.
"Iâm not going to text him," Sunghoon snaps. "But if he thinks he can just demand to know where she is after everythingâ"
"Sunghoon, please," you interject, your voice shaky. "Itâs fine. Iâll⊠Iâll handle it."
"No, itâs not fine," he says firmly. "But I get it. Just donât let him guilt you into going back before youâre ready, okay?"
You nod, though your fingers tremble as you type out a response.
You: Iâm staying at Sunghoonâs for the weekend.
It feels like a small act of defiance, but even hitting send makes your heart race. You place the phone face down on the counter, half-expecting an immediate reply.
"Good," Wonyoung says, her voice gentle. "Let him sit with that. He needs to know youâre not going to drop everything for him anymore."
"Sheâs right," Sunghoon adds. "And if he tries anything, you know Iâll handle it."
"If our parents finds out youâre always trying to start shit with Jaeyun, theyâd be furious," you half-joke, swirling the tea in your cup. Thereâs a thin thread of humour in your voice, but itâs tied to a hard truth you both know too well. Your parents owe their entire business to the Sim family.
At the edge of bankruptcy, your marriage to Sim Jaeyun had been the final card they could play, a lifeline they clung to when everything else was crumbling. It worked, of course. The Sims, with their wealth and power, lifted your familyâs business from ruin.
And in this, as in so many other things, you lose to Sim Jaeyun.
Be it in this sham of a marriage, in the tenuous stability of your familyâs finances, you know the Sims donât need you. Not really. Not as much as you need them.
Sunghoon leans back in his chair, his expression darkening. "You know I never agreed to marrying you off to that family, despite the consequences," he says, his voice low but resolute.
"I know," you reply softly, your gaze falling to your cup. "You got into a huge fight with Father over it. But you also know Iâd do it anyway, even if you tried to stop me."
"Unfortunately, youâre as stubborn as a mule," he mutters, though his tone is fond. He exhales sharply, his brow furrowing. "But I hope you know youâre not tied down to this marriage anymore. Our familyâs doing significantly better than it was three years ago, with or without the Sim backing us up. You can divorce him, if you want to."
The words hit you harder than you expect. Divorce. Youâve thought about it in the quiet corners of your mind, but hearing Sunghoon say it aloud feels different. It feels real.
"Iâll⊠sit on it," you say after a moment, your voice barely above a whisper.
Sunghoon studies you carefully, his sharp eyes narrowing slightly. He knows you too well, knows that even though Jaeyun pretends you donât exist most of the time, youâre still hanging onto that faint, stubborn hope that things might go back to how they were in the beginning. Even if you canât admit it to yourself.
He doesnât push. He simply nods, leaning forward to rest a hand on your shoulder. "Just remember, youâre not alone in this," he says firmly. "Whatever you decide, Iâve got your back."
You manage a small smile, the lump in your throat easing slightly. For the first time in a long while, you feel supportedâtruly supported.
As the rain continues to patter against the windows, Wonyoung pulls you into a conversation about dinner plans, her voice light and teasing as she asks Sunghoon to attempt making something edible for once. The tension in the room softens, and for a brief moment, you let yourself breathe.
Your phone buzzes faintly on the table, and your heart skips when you see Jaeyunâs name. The message isnât anything specialânothing more than a curt reply to the one you sent earlier. Itâs impersonal, distant, but you tell yourself itâs enough.
At least, thatâs what you try to tell yourself.
The house is eerily quiet when you step inside, the echo of your keys hitting the console table filling the space. You kick off your shoes and glance around, expecting the usual stillness of a house thatâs more empty than lived-in. Jaeyun should already be at work. Itâs Monday morning, and his schedule is usually airtight at the start of the week.
You place your weekend bag by the stairs, your chest feeling lighter than it has in months. The time with Wonyoung and Sunghoon had been a breath of fresh air, a reprieve from the weight of this house and everything it represents.
But as you make your way toward the kitchen, something feels⊠off.
The air is heavy, and thereâs no sign of the usual orderliness Jaeyun insists on. A mug sits abandoned on the counter, and his shoes are still by the doorâthings that wouldnât be there if heâd left for the office.
Curious, you make your way upstairs, the faintest sense of unease prickling at your skin. The door to Jaeyunâs room is slightly ajar, and when you push it open, your breath catches.
Heâs there, lying in bed, his usually impeccable appearance replaced by disheveled hair and a pale complexion. The blanket is pulled up to his chin, and the faint flush on his cheeks tells you everything you need to know.
Heâs sick.
"Jaeyun?" you say softly, stepping into the room.
He stirs at the sound of your voice, his eyelids fluttering open. His usual sharp gaze is dulled, clouded by fever. "Youâre back," he murmurs, his voice hoarse.
"I thought youâd be at work," you say, approaching the bed cautiously.
He lets out a weak chuckle that quickly dissolves into a cough. "I tried," he admits, his voice barely above a whisper. "Made it as far as the shower before I gave up."
For a moment, youâre not sure what to do. This is new territory for both of you. But then something shifts inside you, something instinctive. You sit on the edge of the bed, reaching out to press the back of your hand to his forehead.
"Youâre burning up," you say, frowning. "Why didnât you call someone?"
"I didnât think it was that bad," he mutters, closing his eyes again.
You sigh, standing up and glancing around the room. "Stay here. Iâll be back."
His lips twitch, almost as if he wants to argue, but he doesnât. Instead, he watches you leave, his usually stoic expression softening ever so slightly.
You return a few minutes later with a damp cloth, a glass of water, and the medicine you keep stocked in the kitchen. Jaeyun doesnât protest as you sit beside him again, carefully pressing the cloth to his forehead.
"You donât have to do this," he says, though his voice lacks conviction.
"I know," you reply simply.
He watches you for a moment, his gaze softer than youâre used to. "Thank you," he murmurs.
You nod, focusing on your task. Thereâs a quiet intimacy in the moment, the kind you havenât felt in a long time.
As you help him sit up to take the medicine, his hand brushes against yours, and for a second, neither of you moves. Itâs such a small, fleeting thing, but it feels monumental in the stillness of the room.
"Youâve done this before," he says suddenly, his voice tinged with curiosity.
You raise an eyebrow. "Taken care of someone whoâs sick? Of course."
"No," he says, shaking his head slightly. "You. Youâre⊠good at this. Gentle."
The comment catches you off guard, and you glance away, busying yourself with adjusting the blanket. "Itâs nothing," you say quietly.
But Jaeyun doesnât let it drop. "Itâs not nothing," he says, his voice softer now. "I donât think Iâve ever noticed that about you before."
The words hang between you, and for the first time in years, you see something in his expression that isnât indifference or frustration. Itâs gratitude.
"Rest," you say, deflecting the moment as you stand. "Iâll check on you later."
"Wait," he says, his voice stopping you in your tracks.
You turn, surprised. "What?"
"Will you⊠keep me company?" he asks, his tone hesitant. "Just for a little while."
Your heart clenches, and despite everything, you nod. "Okay."
You sit back down, leaning against the headboard as Jaeyun closes his eyes, his breathing evening out. For a while, you watch him, the tension in his face melting away as sleep takes over.
And in that quiet moment, with the soft hum of the rain outside and the warmth of his presence beside you, something shifts.
You open your eyes to find yourself tucked into the comforter of a bed you never thought youâd ever lie in again. The unfamiliar weight of the blankets is warm against your skin, but it takes a moment for you to orient yourself. The room is dim now, the last traces of sunlight gone, replaced by the faint glow of the bedside lamp.
The house is silent, and most notably, Jaeyun is no longer where you left him.
A faint pang of concern rises in your chest as you sit up, running a hand through your hair. He was feverish just hours ago, barely coherent. The fact that heâs no longer in bed is enough to pull you out of the comfort of his room.
You step into the hallway, glancing around. The living room is just as still and empty as it was when you first returned this morning, the silence almost oppressive.
Then, out of the corner of your eye, you spot it: the familiar glow spilling out from under the door to Jaeyunâs office.
You narrow your eyes. Donât tell meâŠ
You walk toward the door, heart sinking with every step. Pushing it open slightly, you find him perched over his laptop, his face illuminated by the screen. His fingers move swiftly across the keyboard, his focus unbroken. He didnât even bother changing out of the clothes he slept in, the faint flush on his cheeks a reminder that heâs still sick.
"Jaeyun," you say, your voice sharper than you intended.
He startles slightly, his gaze flicking up to meet yours. For a moment, he looks almost guilty, but the expression is fleeting. His face hardens, and heâs back to his usual selfâdetached, dismissive.
"What are you doing?" you demand, stepping into the room. "You should be resting."
"Iâm fine," he replies curtly, his attention already shifting back to the screen.
"Youâre not fine," you retort, your frustration bubbling over. "You had a fever this morning. You could barely sit up. And now youâre here, working as if nothing happened?"
He doesnât answer, his fingers hovering over the keyboard.
"Why do you do this to yourself?" you ask, your tone softening despite your anger. "Why canât you just take a break for once?"
"Because I donât have the luxury of taking a break," he snaps, his voice sharp. He glances at you briefly, his eyes glinting with something you canât quite place. "Not everyone can afford to stop when things get difficult."
You flinch at his words, but you refuse to back down. "Youâre not invincible, Jaeyun. Youâre sick. Pushing yourself like this is only going to make it worse."
For a moment, he says nothing. Then, with a heavy sigh, he closes his laptop and leans back in his chair. His face is pale, the dark circles under his eyes more pronounced in the harsh light of the office.
"Why do you care?" he asks quietly, his voice devoid of its usual edge.
The question catches you off guard, and for a moment, you donât know how to respond. Why do you care? After everything, after the distance and the arguments, why do you still feel this pull toward him?
"Because someone has to," you say finally, your voice steady. "And whether you like it or not, that someone is me."
He blinks, clearly not expecting your answer. His expression softens, the usual mask of indifference slipping just enough for you to catch a glimpse of the man he used to beâor maybe the man he still is, buried under all the walls heâs built.
"Come on," you say gently, nodding toward the door. "You need to lie down."
To your surprise, he doesnât argue. He stands slowly, wincing slightly as he stretches. As he follows you out of the office, the silence between you feels less heavy, less hostile.
Back in his room, you watch as he climbs into bed, his movements sluggish. You adjust the blankets around him, your hand brushing against his briefly.
"Youâre stubborn," you say softly, a faint attempt at teasing.
He lets out a weak chuckle, closing his eyes. "Takes one to know one."
You smile despite yourself, stepping back toward the door to give him space. But before you can leave, his voice stops you.
"Stay," he says quietly.
You freeze, your hand still on the doorframe. âSo I can find you missing again when I wake up?â You joke, but you know it got lost on him when you spot the hint of guilt that colour his face.
"Just⊠stay," he repeats, his voice barely above a whisper. His eyes open, and for a fleeting moment, you see something vulnerable in his gaze.
You hesitate, your mind racing. Despite the years of being his wife, despite all the public pretenses and shared spaces, Jaeyun has never asked you to stayânot like this.
"Okay," you say finally, your voice soft. You move back toward the bed, sitting gingerly on the edge, unsure of what to expect.
Jaeyun shifts slightly, making space for you. "Lie down," he murmurs, his tone almost⊠tender.
You blink at him, stunned, but something in his expressionâtired, openâcompels you to obey. Slowly, you lie down beside him, careful to keep a polite distance. The room is quiet, the sound of your breaths the only thing breaking the stillness.
But then you feel it.
His arm snakes around your waist, tentative at first but firm as it settles. You inhale sharply, your body stiffening under his touch. Despite being his lawfully wedded wife, whose only purpose, it seems, is to sit there and look pretty, Jaeyun has never once touched youânot like this. Not in an intimate setting. Not at all.
"Jaeyun," you whisper, your voice catching.
"Donât," he interrupts softly, his voice muffled against your shoulder. "Just⊠let me. Just for a moment."
You donât move, your heart racing as the weight of his arm presses against you, grounding you in a way you hadnât anticipated. His warmth seeps into you, a stark contrast to the cold distance youâve grown so accustomed to.
For a long while, neither of you speaks. The silence stretches, but it isnât uncomfortable. Instead, it feels like something fragile and unspoken is passing between you, an unsteady bridge forming where there had only been a chasm before.
"Thank you," he murmurs finally, his breath warm against your neck.
"For what?" you ask, your voice barely audible.
"For being here," he replies simply.
You close your eyes, your hand hovering uncertainly before resting lightly on top of his. "Get some rest, Jaeyun," you say softly.
His hold on you tightens ever so slightly, and for the first time, you let yourself lean into his touch. As Jaeyunâs breathing evens out and the warmth of his presence lulls you into stillness, you feel something unexpected stir in your chest.Â
Not hope, not yet.
You tell yourself not to expect too much. This could just be a one-off thing, and itâll go away just as quickly as it came, disappearing like so many other fragile glimpses of something more in your marriage.
Still, you stay still, letting the warmth of his touch seep into you, even as your mind tries to brace itself for the inevitable return to indifference. You tell yourself this means nothingâitâs just circumstance. Heâs disoriented, caught off guard by his own vulnerability.
But then your gaze drifts downward, and you find yourself puzzled. His left hand covers your own, his touch firm yet gentle, and youâre struck by the sight of his wedding ring etched tightly around his finger. The gold band catches the faint glow of the moonlight outside, its presence so sure, so constant, as if itâs always belonged there.
Your eyes drop to your own hand. The ring you once wore is absent, likely discarded at some point when you returned home earlier, leaving only the faint tattoo etched into your skin.
His fingers shift slightly, and you feel the rough edge of his thumb trace over the spot where your ring used to sit. The action is subtle, almost unconscious, but it makes your heart race.
Does he realise what heâs doing? Is it just a fever-driven habit, a thoughtless gesture? Or is there something more to the way his touch lingers there, his warmth seeping into the empty space where a symbol of your bond once rested?
You glance at his face, but his eyes are closed, his breathing soft and steady. He looks peaceful, almost childlike, so far removed from the sharp, composed man you know him to be.
You let out a slow breath, your heart conflicted. This moment feels too fragile, too fleeting, to hold onto. And yet, the weight of his hand over yours, the brush of his thumb against your tattooed ring finger, lingers in a way thatâs impossible to ignore.
Donât expect too much, you remind yourself, closing your eyes and letting your head rest against the pillow. But even as sleep pulls you under, the thought remains, a quiet whisper in the back of your mind.
The soft glow of morning light filters through the curtains, and you stir, slowly coming back to consciousness. Your first thought is that the bed feels strangely warm, a comforting weight anchoring you to the mattress.
Your second thought is that Jaeyun is surely gone by now.Â
But when you blink your eyes open, youâre surprised to find him still there, lying beside you. His head is propped up on one hand, his eyes watching you with an unusual softness. Heâs awake, fully present, and for a moment, you think you might still be dreaming.
"Youâre still here?" you mumble, your voice thick with sleep.
He smirks faintly, though thereâs a gentleness in his expression that you canât quite place. "Good morning to you too," he says, his tone light.
You push yourself up slightly, propping yourself on your elbows. "I thought youâd be gone by now. Off to work or something."
He chuckles softly, the sound low and warm. "I figured youâd think that," he says, his gaze steady on yours.
"Am I wrong?" you ask, raising an eyebrow.
For a moment, he doesnât answer. Then, his lips twitch into the faintest smile, and he says, "I wanted to prove you wrong."
You blink, caught off guard by his words. "Prove me wrong about what?"
"That Iâd be gone when you woke up," he says simply. "I know thatâs what you expected. I wanted to stay⊠just this once."
His honesty takes the air from your lungs, and you find yourself staring at him, searching his face for some kind of ulterior motive. But all you see is sincerity, an openness that feels so unlike him it almost makes you uncomfortable.
"Why?" you ask softly, your voice barely above a whisper.
He shrugs, his expression faltering slightly. "No reason.â
The words hang between you, fragile but significant. You donât know how to respond, your heart warring with a mix of emotionsâhope, skepticism, confusion.
"Jaeyun," you begin, your voice uncertain, "are youâ"
"Donât read too much into it," he interrupts gently, his gaze shifting away for a moment. "I just⊠wanted to be here. Itâs the least I can do in return for taking care of me last night. Thatâs all."
You nod slowly, unsure of what to say. It feels like thereâs more he isnât saying, but for now, you let it be.
"Well," you say, clearing your throat to break the tension, "you succeeded. I didnât think youâd still be here, but you are."
He smiles faintly, the corners of his mouth lifting just enough to make your chest tighten. "Good," he says, his tone soft.
The two of you lapse into silence, the morning light growing brighter as it fills the room. Strangely, the quiet between you isnât heavy or suffocatingâitâs almost comfortable.
And that scares you.
The late morning sun filters through the curtains, casting soft streaks of light across the living room. Youâre perched on the couch, a mug of tea warming your hands, and for once, the house doesnât feel so empty. Itâs quiet, but not the cold, distant kind of quiet youâve grown used to. This quiet feels⊠peaceful.
Jaeyun is in the kitchen, rummaging through drawers in search of something. The sound of clinking silverware drifts into the living room, and you canât help but smile faintly at his muffled muttering.
"Youâve been in there for ten minutes," you call out. "What are you looking for?"
"Nothing," he replies, his tone nonchalant, though itâs clear heâs lying.
A moment later, he emerges with a slightly triumphant expression, holding up a mismatched pair of chopsticks. "Found them."
You raise an eyebrow. "Were we missing chopsticks?"
He shrugs, sitting down beside you on the couch. "Apparently. But not anymore."
Itâs such a mundane moment, so insignificant in the grand scheme of things, and yet it feels monumental. Jaeyunâyour distant, often aloof husbandâsitting beside you, chopsticks in hand as if this is the most natural thing in the world.
"So," you say, tilting your head to look at him, "youâre really not going to work today?"
He leans back against the couch, stretching his legs out in front of him. "Called in sick," he says simply.
Your eyes widen slightly. "You did what?"
He glances at you, a faint smirk playing on his lips. "You heard me. Just one day. I figured the world wouldnât end if I wasnât at my desk for twenty-four hours."
The admission surprises you more than youâd like to admit. "You? Calling in sick? Are you sure youâre not actually still feverish?"
He chuckles softly, shaking his head. "I just⊠thought it might be nice to stay home. Spend the day here."
The words are casual, but they hit you with unexpected weight. He doesnât say it outright, but you can tell he means with you.
The day unfolds in a series of small, quiet moments.
You make lunch togetherâor rather, you try to make lunch while Jaeyun critiques your cooking with a faint smirk that earns him a flick of flour to the face. He retaliates by stealing a bite of your eggs before it even makes it to your plate.
Later, you find yourselves sitting on the floor, a forgotten deck of cards between you. The game dissolves into laughter when Jaeyunâs competitive streak makes him accuse you of cheating, though you both know heâs just annoyed that youâre winning.
At some point, he drags you to the couch, insisting you watch an old movie he loves. The two of you sit side by side, shoulders brushing, as the black-and-white film flickers across the screen.
The golden hues of sunset stream through the kitchen windows as you both sit at the table, sipping tea after finishing the leftovers from lunch. The warmth of the day still lingers in the air, wrapping around the two of you like a cocoon.
As you lean back in your chair, savoring the moment, Jaeyun suddenly tilts his head, his gaze dropping to your hand.
"Whereâs your ring?" he asks, his tone casual, but his eyes sharp.
Your heart skips a beat. The question catches you off guard, and for a moment, you freeze.
"My ring?" you repeat, stalling for time as your mind races.
"Yeah," he says, his gaze still fixed on your bare finger. "Youâre always wearing it. Did you take it off for something?"
"I⊠I mustâve left it in the bathroom," you blurt out, forcing a smile you hope looks convincing. "Probably when I was washing my hands earlier."
He raises an eyebrow, his expression unreadable. "In the bathroom?"
"Yeah," you say quickly, nodding as you avoid his gaze. "Iâll grab it later."
Jaeyun doesnât say anything for a moment, his eyes lingering on you longer than youâd like. The air feels heavier, and youâre painfully aware of how obvious your lie probably sounds.
Finally, he leans back in his chair, shrugging slightly. "Donât forget it," he says, his tone light but his words carrying an undertone you canât quite place.
You nod, forcing yourself to relax. "Of course."
But as the conversation shifts and the moment passes, the weight of his question lingers. You glance down at your hand, at the faint tattoo where your ring should be, and a wave of guilt prickles at the edges of your thoughts.
Itâs not like you havenât taken it off before. In fact, you do it almost every day when youâre at home. Itâs become something of a ritualâthe first thing you do after stepping through the door. You slip the ring off your finger and leave it somewhere out of sight, free from its weight, if only for a little while.
The cool metal feels foreign against your skin most days, its presence a constant reminder of what your life isâor isnât. You never think twice about leaving it behind when youâre within these walls. Here, thereâs no one to see, no one to judge, no cameras waiting to catch a fleeting moment that could spiral into something scandalous.
When youâre not out and about, it feels pointless to keep it on. The ring, for all its shine, doesnât mean much in the confines of this house. Itâs more for show, a symbol of an agreement carefully constructed to protect your familyâs image and his.
Not a promise. Never that.
At least, thatâs what youâve told yourself. The habit of slipping it off has become so second nature, so tied to the quiet rebellion you allow yourself in these small, insignificant moments.
And yet, when Jaeyun notices its absence today, it feels like the weight of it hasnât truly left you. As if even without wearing it, the ring leaves its mark in more ways than one.
Heâs never noticed beforeâor if he has, heâs never said anything. So why now? Why today, of all days, when things between you feel⊠different?
Unlike you, he never seems to take it off. Itâs always there, snug around his finger, as if it belongs. The sight of it used to annoy youâhow he could wear it so easily, without it seeming to weigh him down.
Now, youâre not sure how it makes you feel.
You run your thumb over the faint tattoo on your ring finger, and force yourself to look away. Itâs just one day, you remind yourself again.
Just one day where things feel lighter, less complicated.
But you canât help wondering if Jaeyunâs question meant more than he let on. And you canât shake the feeling that this small, seemingly insignificant detail might mean more than either of you are ready to admit.
And like every other time you think things might start changing for the better between you and Jaeyun, youâre reminded once again why you donât hope.
Jaeyun goes back to his old ways, the distance between you returning like a shadow that never truly left. It feels like déjà vu.
You canât help but wonder how one person can do such a thingâbe kind and leave you helplessly yearning for one day, only to completely pretend you donât exist the next. Itâs as if heâs perfected the art of making you feel like you matter, just enough to keep you tethered, before yanking it all away again.
Heâs gone before you wake up, and by the time he comes home, itâs well past dinner, the faint smell of his cologne mingling with the crisp air he brings in from the outside world. Thereâs no more lingering conversations, no more stolen glances or hesitant touches. Itâs as though the day you spent together was a dream you woke from too soon.
You try to tell yourself it doesnât hurt, but it does. Every time he brushes past you without a word, every time his focus remains glued to his phone or laptop instead of on the life youâre supposed to be sharing, it stings.
One evening, as heâs seated at the dining table with his laptop, his face illuminated by the cold, blue glow of the screen, you bring it up.
"Thereâs a charity gala being held by the Park family this weekend," you say, your tone light, careful. "Weâre expected to attend together."
He doesnât look up, his fingers tapping steadily at the keyboard. "Hmm," he mutters absently, his tone distant.
You suppress a sigh, leaning against the counter. "Itâs important, Jaeyun. The Parks have always been close to your family, and you know how much these events matter to themâand to us."
"Iâll see if I can make it," he replies, his eyes never leaving the screen.
"See if you can make it?" you repeat, a note of irritation slipping into your voice. "Itâs not a suggestion, Jaeyun. Weâre supposed to go together."
He pauses for a fraction of a second before resuming his typing. "Iâll try," he says, his tone flat.
You swallow the lump in your throat, nodding even though he isnât looking. "Alright," you murmur, retreating to the safety of your room.
But deep down, you already know how it will play out. He wonât come. Youâll stand alone at the gala, wearing a practiced smile while the whispers swirl around you. And when you return home, heâll have some excuse waiting, polished and hollow, leaving you wondering why you even bother to hope.
And yet, against your better judgment, you do. You hope.
Youâd spent hours convincing yourself that he would come, that this time would be different. But as the car pulled up to the venue without him, the weight of the truth settled back onto your shoulders. Of course, he hadnât come. You knew it was too good to be true.
The Park familyâs charity gala is as dazzling as you expected. The grand ballroom is a sea of glittering gowns, tailored suits, and sparkling champagne glasses. Crystal chandeliers cast warm light across the room, illuminating faces that belong to the cityâs most influential.
As you make your way through the crowd, trying not to let your disappointment show, you almost immediately feel the weight of eyes on you.Â
People glance at the space beside youâempty, conspicuously so. The absence of Jaeyun is louder than any announcement, a glaring reminder of how alone you are in this marriage.Â
"Sheâs here alone again," someone whispers as you pass.
âWhereâs Jaeyun?" one woman asks lightly, her tone laced with curiosity.
You hold your head high, your practiced smile in place, though the sting of their words burns beneath your skin. You knew this would happen. You prepared yourself for it. And still, it doesnât make it any easier.
An hour passes, and youâve made your way through polite conversations and obligatory greetings. You exchange small talk with acquaintances and pose for photographs, every move calculated to maintain the image of perfection.
And before you know it, you find yourself at the bar, nursing a glass of champagne as the evening drags on. The music is lively, couples twirling across the dance floor, and yet you canât shake the gnawing feeling of being out of place.
"Mrs. Sim," a warm voice calls out. Itâs smooth, familiar, and you turn to see Justin Park standing beside you. The eldest son of the Park family is the picture of charm, his tailored suit impeccable, his smile easy.
"Justin," you greet him with a smile, grateful for the familiarity. "Itâs been a while."
"It has," he agrees, taking your hand briefly in his. "I was beginning to think youâd forgotten about us."
You laugh softly, shaking your head. "Never. The Parks throw the best events, after all."
"Flattery will get you everywhere," he teases, his grin widening.
The conversation flows effortlessly, his presence offering a welcome reprieve from the otherwise stifling evening. Justin has always had a way of making people feel at ease, and for the first time tonight, you feel a small sense of relief.
But youâre not oblivious to the glances. You can feel the eyes of the room on you, hear the faint murmurs growing louder as the two of you continue talking. Justin doesnât seem to noticeâor if he does, he doesnât care.
He takes the seat beside you, signaling for a drink. "No Jaeyun tonight?"
You let out a soft laugh, though thereâs no real humour in it. "Work," you say, the excuse slipping off your tongue before you can stop it.
Justin raises an eyebrow, his expression thoughtful. "Work seems to take up a lot of his time."
You glance at him, unsure how to respond. Thereâs a knowing look in his eyes, but he doesnât press further. Instead, he shifts the conversation to lighter topics, asking about your family, your thoughts on the gala, your latest endeavours.
But as the conversation continues, you become more and more aware of the glances being cast your way. The whispers. The pointed stares.
It doesnât take long to piece together whatâs happening.
The perfect wife of Sim Jaeyun, left alone at a gala, seen laughing and chatting with Justin Parkâeldest son of the host family, no less. The headline practically writes itself.
You excuse yourself politely, leaving Justin with a gracious smile as you slip away to the powder room. Your heart pounds as you grip the edge of the sink, staring at your reflection in the mirror. The whispers have always followed you, but this feels different.
When you return to the ballroom, the tension is palpable. More eyes follow you now, the buzz of speculation almost tangible. You press on, keeping your head high, your composure intact.
But inside, something breaks.
Youâd held onto hope, despite everything, that Jaeyun might show up, that he might stand beside you for once, silencing the whispers with his presence. Instead, his absence speaks louder than words ever could.
The night drags on, and by the time you leave, the damage is done.
When you arrive home, the house is dark, just as you expected. Jaeyunâs car is in the driveway, but the silence inside confirms what you already knowâheâs here, but heâs not really here.
You find him in his office, his laptop open, his face bathed in the cold glow of the screen.
"You didnât come," you say, your voice flat as you stand in the doorway.
He glances up briefly, his expression unreadable. "I told you I was busy."
"Busy," you repeat, bitterness creeping into your tone. "You couldnât even spare one evening? You didnât even try, did you?â
His jaw tightens, but he doesnât respond.
"Do you have any idea what tonight was like for me?" you ask, your voice rising. "Standing there alone while people whispered and stared? While they speculated about my marriageâand about Justin Park?"
At the mention of Justinâs name, Jaeyunâs gaze sharpens, a flicker of somethingâanger, perhapsâcrossing his face.
"Justin?" he asks, his tone clipped.
"Yes, Justin," you snap. "He was kind enough to talk to me while my husband couldnât even bother to show up."
Jaeyunâs eyes narrow, and for a moment, you think he might actually say something. But then he leans back in his chair, his expression closing off once more. "Iâm sure people will find something else to talk about tomorrow."
The dismissal in his tone is the final blow. You shake your head, the weight of the evening crashing down on you.
"Of course," you say softly, your voice trembling. "Why would you care?"
You turn and walk away, the sound of his keyboard clicking resuming as the door closes behind you. In the quiet of your room, you slip off your gown, your hands trembling as you let it pool around your feet.
You knew it was too good to be true. Jaeyunâs warmth, his attentionâit was fleeting, a momentary lapse in the distance that defines your marriage. And now, youâre left with the echoes of what might have been, wondering if it was ever real to begin with.
The days following the gala, marked by a heavy, stifling silence that seems to wrap itself around the house. You try to carry on as if nothing has changed, though itâs impossible to ignore the fact that Jaeyun is now home every day.
Itâs disorienting. Heâs always been someone who thrives on his demanding schedule, constantly in and out, using work as an excuse to avoid the cracks in your marriage.
But now, heâs hereâpresent in a way that feels more like a shadow than a comfort.
You desperately try to avoid him, sticking to your routines with an almost obsessive precision. You spend longer in the kitchen, longer in the guest room youâve claimed as your own, and shorter stretches of time in shared spaces like the living room. Yet, no matter how hard you try, itâs like his presence lingers everywhere.
In the mornings, you find him in the kitchen, sipping coffee at the island as if heâs always been there. The air is thick with unspoken words as you pour yourself tea, your movements stiff and deliberate. He doesnât say anything, doesnât acknowledge you beyond a glance, but the weight of his silence is deafening.
At night, itâs worse. You hear him moving about the house, the faint sound of his footsteps stopping and starting as though heâs unsure where to go. Itâs as if heâs waiting for you to confront him, to say somethingâanythingâbut you donât. You canât.
One evening, as you retreat to your room, you notice the door to his office is wide open, the lights dim. You hesitate for a moment, glancing inside, only to find him sitting at his desk, staring blankly at his laptop.
He doesnât look up, but his voice cuts through the quiet like a blade. "Youâre avoiding me."
You freeze, your fingers tightening on the edge of the doorframe. "Iâm not avoiding you," you lie, your voice steadier than you feel.
He lets out a dry laugh, though thereâs no humour in it. "Youâre not very good at lying."
You donât respond, your pulse quickening as the weight of his gaze finally lifts from the screen and settles on you. His eyes are darker than usual, a storm brewing behind them, but you refuse to let it intimidate you.
"Why are you here all the time now?" you ask abruptly, the question tumbling out before you can stop it. "Are you not needed at the office?"
He leans back in his chair, his expression unreadable. "Maybe I realised Iâve been away too much, Iâve decided to work from home for the time being."
You scoff, shaking your head. "Youâve always been away too much. Why does it matter now?"
For a moment, he doesnât answer. His gaze lingers on you, searching, as if trying to decide how much to say. "Because you were right," he says finally, his voice quieter but firm. "About a lot of things."
The confession catches you off guard, your carefully constructed walls trembling under the weight of his words.
"And what am I supposed to do with that?" you ask, your voice barely above a whisper.
He exhales, rubbing the back of his neck. "I donât know. But Iâm trying."
You laugh bitterly, stepping back into the hallway. "Trying doesnât undo whatâs already been done, Jaeyun."
"I know," he says softly, almost to himself.
You leave before he can say anything more, retreating to your room and shutting the door behind you. The house falls silent again, but it feels more suffocating than ever.
The knock at the door is sharp, insistent, cutting through the quiet of the night like a blade. You hesitate, your book slipping from your hands onto the couch.Â
Itâs lateâtoo late for anyone to show up unannounced. The second knock is harder, more aggressive, and the urgency in it sends a chill down your spine.
Jaeyunâs office light is still on, but the house is otherwise silent. You glance down the hallway, half-expecting him to emerge and handle it, but when he doesnât, you steel yourself and head for the door.
Justin Park stands on your doorstep, his usually composed face marred by a split lip and a bruise darkening his cheek. His suit jacket is gone, his shirt wrinkled and bloodied, and his eyes burn with a fury youâve never seen before.
You swing the door open, your voice trembling. "Justin? What happened to you?"
He steps inside without waiting for an invitation, his movements stiff and pained. "Whereâs your husband?" he snaps, his voice low and dangerous.
"Whatâwhat are you talking about?" you stammer, closing the door behind him as he staggers into the living room.
"Get Jaeyun on a leash," he growls, turning to face you. His eyes are blazing, his anger palpable. "Because if this is how he handles things, youâre going to have bigger problems than rumors about us."
You stare at him, your mind struggling to catch up. "Jaeyun? What does he have to do with this?"
Justin lets out a harsh laugh, though thereâs no humor in it. He presses a hand to his side, wincing as he moves. "You really donât know, do you?"
"Your husband sent his men after me," he growls, his voice dripping with anger. "Three of them cornered me at the bar tonight. Told me I needed to stay away from you. When I didnât back down, they made sure I 'got the message.'"
The blood drains from your face as you take in his bruised cheek, the torn fabric of his shirt. "Jaeyun⊠he wouldnâtâ"
"Wouldnât he?" Justin snaps, his eyes blazing. "You think he didnât know exactly what he was doing? He made it very clear who was behind it."
The words hit you like a punch to the gut. This couldnât be true, could it? Jaeyun, who has spent years pretending you donât exist, who didnât even bother to show up at the gala, suddenly cared enough to orchestrate this?
You swallow hard, your hands trembling as you step closer. "Justin, Iâm so sorry. I didnâtâ"
"Donât apologise for him," Justin interrupts sharply, his gaze softening slightly as he looks at you. "This isnât your fault. But you need to talk to him. Make him understand that this isnât how you fix things."
You nod slowly, your mind spinning. "Let me get you some ice," you say, moving toward the kitchen.
"Donât bother," Justin says, shaking his head. "I just came to let you know what happened. Whatever you do with this information is up to you."
"Justinâ"
"Take care of yourself," he says, cutting you off as he heads toward the door. He pauses, his hand on the doorknob, and glances back at you. "You deserve better than this."
The sound of the door shutting behind Justin reverberates through the house like a final gavel in a court sentencing. You stand frozen, trying to collect yourself, when you hear itâthe unmistakable sound of Jaeyunâs footsteps behind you.
"Who was that?" Jaeyunâs voice is calm, almost indifferent, but thereâs a sharpness beneath it that makes your skin crawl.
You turn slowly to face him, your anger simmering just beneath the surface. "You already know who it was."
His gaze darkens, his expression unreadable. "And why was he here?"
You scoff, crossing your arms. "Why do you think? He came to show me the bruises your men left on him. Did you send them, Jaeyun?"
Jaeyun doesnât flinch. Instead, he leans against the wall, his arms crossed over his chest. "He needed to understand his place," he says flatly.
"His place?" you echo, your voice rising. "You sent your men to beat him up over a conversation? Whatâs wrong with you?"
Jaeyun straightens, his eyes flashing. "He was disrespecting our marriage."
You stare at him, stunned for a moment before letting out a bitter laugh. "Disrespecting our marriage? What marriage, Jaeyun? The one youâve ignored for years? The one you couldnât even show up to defend at the gala?"
He steps closer, his voice sharp. "Donât twist this. You were out there talking to him, laughing with him, while people whispered about you. About us."
"Why does it matter to you anyway?" you snap, your anger spilling over. "You donât see this arrangement as anything more than a convenience. Why do you care if I was talking to Justin or not?"
"Because it reflects on me," he fires back, his voice hard. "On my family. On my name."
You flinch at the bluntness of his words, your chest tightening. "So thatâs all this is to you? Image? Reputation?"
He clenches his jaw, his hands curling into fists at his sides. "You donât understand."
"No," you shoot back, your voice breaking slightly. "I donât understand. Because you donât let me. You donât let me in, Jaeyun. And then you act like you have the right to control me when Iâm just trying to survive this sham of a marriage."
His expression falters for a moment, something flickering in his eyesâguilt, regret, angerâbut itâs gone as quickly as it appeared.
"You donât know Justin Park," he says, his tone cold. "Not like I do. Itâs best you stay away from him."
"And you think I know you?" you ask, your voice trembling with fury. "Maybe itâs you I should be staying away from."
The words hit him like a slap, and for a moment, heâs silent. The tension between you is suffocating, the weight of everything left unsaid crushing down on both of you.
Finally, he exhales, his voice quieter but no less sharp. "This isnât about me."
"Itâs always about you, Jaeyun," you reply, shaking your head. "Your name. Your image. Your pride. But what about me? What about what I want? Or do I not even factor into this equation anymore?"
His silence is answer enough.
You turn on your heel, your chest tight as you storm down the hallway, leaving him standing there in the suffocating silence. Your footsteps echo through the house, but his donât follow.
In your room, you sit on the edge of the bed, your hands trembling as you press them against your temples. Justinâs words replay in your mind: You deserve better than this.
And for a moment, you wonder if heâs right.
The thought comes to you slowly, quietly, like the first ripples of a tide that eventually swallows the shore. Divorce. You roll the word around in your mind, tasting its finality, its promise of freedom, and the bitter pang of everything it would mean.
For so long, it felt like an impossible idea, a step too drastic to even consider. You told yourself it wasnât an optionânot with the intertwined fates of your family and Jaeyunâs. Not with the whispers that would follow you for years, the headlines that would smear your name.
But now, as you sit alone in the dim light of your room, the faint murmur of Jaeyunâs movements down the hall a constant reminder of how broken things are, it doesnât feel impossible anymore.
It feels inevitable.
Your mind drifts back to the last few months, to the endless cycle of hope and disappointment. For every fleeting moment of warmth from Jaeyun, thereâs a cold wall waiting to slam back down, leaving you questioning your worth, your sanity.
You deserve better than this.
Do you?
The idea both frightens and exhilarates you. To walk away, to sever the ties that have bound you for so long, feels like a leap into the unknown. What would your life look like without Jaeyun? Without the expectations and pretenses that have consumed you?
Your thoughts turn to your family. You know the sacrifices they made, the desperation that led to this marriage in the first place. For so long, you told yourself you couldnât leave because they needed you to stay. But now, with their business stable and the weight of the Sim familyâs influence less critical than it once was, you wonder if youâve been clinging to that excuse simply because itâs easier than facing the truth.
The truth is, youâve been afraid. Afraid of the fallout, of the shame, of the unknown. Afraid that walking away would mean admitting failureânot just to your family or society, but to yourself.
But as you sit there, the faint hum of the world outside filtering through the window, you realise something else: staying is its own kind of failure.
You press your hands to your face, breathing deeply as you let the thought settle over you. Divorce. It feels heavy, like a word too big for your chest to hold, but also strangely freeing.
You donât make the decision tonight. But for the first time, you allow yourself to think about it, to imagine a life where the weight of this marriage is lifted, where you can breathe freely again.
But while the thought of it doesnât feel impossible, it doesnât feel like hope either.
Not the kind of hope you would feel when the coldness between you and Jaeyun would melt for a day or two, his rare gestures of warmth thawing the ice between you before it inevitably froze over again. Not the kind of hope you would feel when you allowed yourself to dream of a happy marriage with him, only to wake up to the nightmare of its absence.
This doesnât feel like hope.
It feels like resignation. A quiet acceptance of the reality youâve been avoiding for years. But even as the word divorce lingers in your mind, whispering promises of freedom and relief, thereâs something else that you canât seem to ignore.
Even after everythingâafter the indifference, the distance, the way he treats you like an afterthoughtâyou canât deny the feeling that has rooted itself so stubbornly in your chest.
You love him.
It feels absurd, almost laughable, to admit it even to yourself. How could you love someone who has hurt you so thoroughly, someone who has made you feel invisible in a marriage that he vowed to protect? And yet, the truth is undeniable.
You love him.
You love him in the quiet moments when his mask slips, and he shows glimpses of the man you thought he could be. You love him in the memories of the rare times he made you feel seen, however fleeting they were. You even love him in the ache of longing, in the endless hope that maybe, just maybe, heâll come back to you in the way youâve always wanted him to.
Itâs maddening. Itâs painful. And itâs real.
The thought makes your chest tighten, tears prickling at the corners of your eyes. How can you even think of divorce when your heart refuses to let go? When a part of you still clings to the idea that something salvageable remains between you?
You press your fingers to your temple, willing the thoughts to quiet, but they donât. Instead, they linger, heavy and unrelenting, as the faint sounds of Jaeyun moving about the house reach your ears.
You love him. Despite everything. And maybe thatâs the worst part of all.
You decide that youâll never be able to come to a conclusion as long as youâre stuck in this house, surrounded by everything that reminds you of him. The walls feel like theyâre closing in, every corner holding fragments of a life youâre not sure you can continue living. His cologne lingering in the hallways, the faint indent of his weight on the sofa, the silent hum of his presenceâall of it suffocates you.
So, you do the only thing you can think of. You pack your bags.
You donât give yourself time to overthink it. A small overnight bag is enough; you donât even care if youâve forgotten something. The urgency to leave, to breathe, to escape the weight of him, pushes you forward.
You donât bother texting or calling Wonyoung or Sunghoon first. Sheâs your best friend and heâs your brother. You trust that theyâll understand. Frankly, you donât care if youâre interrupting something. You just want out of this house.
When you step out into the cool evening air, the weight on your chest lifts ever so slightly. You pull your coat tighter around you and get into the car, gripping the steering wheel as if itâs the only thing anchoring you.
The drive to Wonyoungâs is a blur, the city lights flashing past your windows like fleeting memories. You donât know what youâre going to say when you arrive, but you trust that sheâll take one look at you and know. She always does.
Your grip tightens on the steering wheel, knuckles white as you try to focus on the road and not the storm brewing inside your mind. But as you take a glance at your rear-view mirror, a flicker of unease slithers into your chest.
The car behind you has been following you for far too long.
At first, you brush it off as coincidence. Itâs a city, after all, and traffic can be unpredictable. But the longer you drive, the more you notice the pattern. Every turn you make, every lane changeâit mirrors your moves with eerie precision.
Your chest tightens, and your breath comes a little faster. You test the waters, making an abrupt turn onto a side street. The car behind you follows.
Panic starts to creep in, and your mind races with possibilities. Who would follow you? And why?
Your foot presses harder on the accelerator, your heart pounding as the car behind you matches your speed. You weave through the streets, your mind screaming for clarity, for an explanation. But none comes. The only thing that matters is the need to escape.
As you merge onto a less busy road, the car behind you inches closer, its headlights glaring in your rear-view mirror like eyes boring into your soul. You push the accelerator to the floor, the speedometer climbing as your car barrels down the road.
The high-speed chase feels endless, your pulse a deafening roar in your ears. You barely register the turns youâre making, the streets blurring together as you fight to stay ahead. But in your desperation, you take a corner too sharply.
The car swerves, tires screeching against the asphalt. The world tilts as your vehicle careens off the road, smashing into a lamppost with a bone-jarring impact.
Everything goes quiet.
Your head throbs, the airbag deflating in front of you. Smoke wafts from the crumpled hood, and your vision swims as you try to make sense of whatâs happening. Before you can gather your thoughts, the sound of approaching footsteps snaps you to attention.
You fumble with your seatbelt, panic surging as the car door wrenches open. A figure looms over you, silhouetted against the harsh glow of the headlights.
"Letâs go," a voice growls, low and urgent.
Before you can react, strong hands grip your arm, dragging you from the wreckage. You kick and thrash, your protests muffled by the haze of adrenaline and the ache radiating through your body.
"Stop fighting," the voice snaps, and you freeze, recognition dawning.
"Justin?" you rasp, your voice hoarse and disbelieving.
He doesnât answer, his grip on your arm tightening as he pulls you toward a waiting car parked just behind yours.
"What are you doing?" you demand, trying to resist despite the pounding in your head.
"Saving you," he bites out, his tone cold and unrelenting. "From yourself and from him."
The words send a chill down your spine, confusion and fear swirling in your chest. "What are you talking about? Let me go!"
But Justin doesnât falter. He opens the car door and all but shoves you inside before sliding into the driverâs seat and locking the doors.
"You donât get it, do you?" he says, his voice quieter but no less intense. "Youâre a pawn in his game, and heâs not going to let you go. Not unless someone forces his hand."
The engine roars to life, and the car speeds off, leaving the wreckageâand your sense of safetyâfar behind.
"Justin, what are you doing?" you whisper, your voice trembling as the weight of the situation presses down on you.
He glances at you briefly, his eyes dark and unreadable. "Making sure you donât go back to him."
Panic bubbles up in your chest, and you realise this night is far from over.
The warehouse is cold, damp, and utterly silent except for the faint hum of fluorescent lights flickering overhead. Your wrists ache from where Justin had bound them to the chair, though heâd been careful not to make it too tightâalmost as if he wanted to justify this madness to himself.
He paces in front of you, his movements restless, his face a storm of emotions. His disheveled appearance is a far cry from the polished, composed man youâd spoken to at the gala. Now, he looks unhinged, his sharp gaze flickering between intensity and something softer that makes your stomach churn.
"Why are you doing this, Justin?" you demand, your voice trembling but resolute. "What do you want from me?"
He stops abruptly, turning to face you. His lips twitch into a faint, humourless smile. "This isnât about what I want," he says quietly. "This is about whatâs right."
You scoff, your anger surging despite the fear gnawing at you. "Right? You call kidnapping me right? Youâre delusional."
He doesnât flinch at your words, instead crouching down to your level, his eyes boring into yours. "You donât understand, do you?" he says softly, almost pityingly. "Youâre a pawn in a much bigger game. Jaeyunâs game."
"And what does that make me in your game, Justin?" you snap, your voice sharp.
His jaw tightens, but he doesnât look away. "Iâm not playing games," he insists. "Iâm trying to show you the truth. Jaeyun doesnât care about youâhe never has. To him, youâre just another piece on the board, someone to control and manipulate to his advantage."
You glare at him, your hands gripping the edge of the chair. "And you think youâre any better? You think dragging me here, tying me up, and ranting about Jaeyun makes you some kind of saviour?"
His face darkens, and for a moment, you see a flicker of somethingâregret, perhaps, or guilt. "Iâm trying to free you from him," he says, his voice low.
"Free me?" you laugh bitterly, shaking your head. "Stop treating me as your moral compass. You know damn well this has nothing to do with saving me. You just want to use me to get back at Jaeyun."
Justinâs expression falters, his composure cracking. He stands abruptly, running a hand through his hair as he begins pacing again.
"Itâs not like that," he mutters, more to himself than to you.
"Then what is it, Justin?" you press, your voice trembling with both anger and exhaustion. "Because this isnât about me. This is about you and Jaeyun. And your obsession with him."
He stops pacing, his back to you. For a long moment, he says nothing, the silence stretching between you like a taut wire. Then, he speaks, his voice quieter, almost reflective.
"Jaeyun and I⊠weâve been at this for years," he admits, his tone tinged with something bitter. "University. Work. Every step of the way, weâve competed. Top marks, top internships, top investments. And every time I get close, he finds a way to edge me out."
You stare at him, your mind racing to process his words.
"Do you know how frustrating it is to always be second to someone who doesnât even care?" he continues, his voice rising. "He doesnât care about the people he steps on, the lives he ruins. He just takes. He took everything from meâand now heâs taken you too."
"Taken me?" you echo, incredulous. "This isnât some prize to win, Justin. Iâm a person, not a trophy for your petty rivalry."
He turns to face you again, his expression hard. "You donât understand. He doesnât deserve you. He doesnât even see what he has."
"And you think you do?" you snap. "Youâre not trying to save me, Justin. Youâre trying to hurt him."
Justinâs pacing grows more erratic, his voice rising as he spits out his frustrations. "He never cared about you," he snaps, his tone dripping with venom. "Sending men to beat me up because he canât even do it himself! Everything he does is about rubbing it in my face."
You flinch at the bitterness in his words, your breath catching as the room seems to grow colder.
"He couldnât even be bothered to show up at the gala," Justin continues, his voice cracking with anger. "But the moment he thinks Iâve crossed some invisible line, he sends his dogs after me. And you think thatâs about you? No. Itâs about me. About proving heâs one step ahead, always in control."
"Youâre wrong," you say, your voice trembling.
"Am I?" he counters, his eyes narrowing as he stares at you. "Think about it, Y/N. Think about the way he treats you. The way he treats everyone. Youâre just a piece on his board, another way for him to win."
You shake your head, tears stinging your eyes. "You donât know that."
"I know him better than you ever could," Justin growls, stepping closer. "Iâve seen it. Iâve lived it. Every move he makes, every decisionâitâs all calculated. And this? Sending men after me? That wasnât about protecting you. That was about humiliating me."
You bite your lip, refusing to let his words burrow deeper. "And what about you, Justin? Are you any better? Youâve tied me to this chair, dragged me into this mess, and youâre standing here acting like youâre doing me some kind of favour."
"Iâm trying to show you the truth," he snaps, his tone raw.
"No," you say firmly, your voice shaking with a mix of fear and fury. "Youâre trying to one-up Jaeyun. This isnât about me, and it never was. Youâre just as obsessed with beating him as you claim he is with controlling you."
His expression falters for a moment, a flicker of guilt passing through his eyes. But then he clenches his jaw, his resolve hardening. "Iâm not like him," he insists, though his voice lacks its earlier conviction.
"Then prove it," you say, meeting his gaze head-on. "Let me go."
His jaw tightens, and for a moment, you think he might actually listen. But then he shakes his head, turning away from you.
"Not yet," he murmurs, almost to himself. "Not until Iâve made my point."
You swallow hard, your chest tightening as the reality of the situation sinks in. Justin isnât going to let you goânot until heâs done whatever it is heâs convinced himself he needs to do.
His fingers move swiftly over your phone, the glow of the screen illuminating his face. "Iâll show you exactly how little you mean to him. When he comes, he wonât even bat an eye at you. Itâll all be about himâhis pride, his control, his need to be the one in charge."
Your stomach twists, and you tug at the restraints on your wrists, panic building in your chest. "Justin, stop this."
He ignores your protests, holding the phone up so you can see the screen. He snaps a picture of youâbound to the chair, your face pale with fearâand then types out a message.
You: You want her back? Come and get her.
You watch helplessly as he hits send, the message shooting off to Jaeyun.
"Youâre insane," you hiss, struggling against the bindings. "This wonât prove anything."
"Itâll prove everything," Justin says, his smirk widening. "Youâll see. When he shows up, it wonât be about you. Itâll be about him. About showing me up. About proving heâs the better man."
"You donât know that," you snap, though your voice wavers.
"I know him better than you think," Justin says, his tone calm and measured. "He wonât even look at you properly. He wonât ask if youâre okay. Heâll only care about putting me in my place."
Your chest tightens, and for a moment, youâre not sure what to believe. The man in front of you is unhinged, but his words strike a chord of doubt you canât entirely ignore.
Justin steps back, his confidence radiating as he pockets his phone. "Youâll see soon enough," he says simply. "And when he comes, when he proves me right, youâll finally understand who Jaeyun really is."
You glare at him, your heart pounding as you pull against the bindings. "Youâre delusional," you spit.
"Am I?" he asks, his smirk unwavering.
The room falls into a tense silence, the weight of his words hanging over you like a dark cloud. You can only pray that heâs wrong, that Jaeyun will comeânot because of pride or rivalry, but because somewhere, buried deep within his frozen heart, thereâs a small warmth that still holds you in it.
But as the minutes tick by, the doubt Justin planted in your mind begins to grow.
The memories swirl in your mind, colliding with Justinâs words like pieces of a puzzle you wish didnât fit. Youâve always told yourself that Jaeyunâs indifference was a defence mechanism, a way to protect himself from something deeper. But what if it wasnât? What if Justin is right, and everything youâve clung to was just wishful thinking?
"Youâre thinking about it, arenât you?" Justinâs voice cuts through your thoughts, smug and sharp. He leans against the wall, arms crossed, watching you with a knowing look. "Wondering if Iâm right. Wondering if heâll even come."
"Shut up," you snap, though your voice lacks its usual strength.
"I donât blame you," he says, shrugging. "Heâs made you doubt yourself. Doubt him. Thatâs what he does, Y/N. He keeps you just close enough to keep you hoping, but not close enough to let you in. And when he does come, itâs never for you. Itâs for himself."
You shake your head, refusing to let him poison your mind any further. "You donât know what youâre talking about."
"Donât I?" he counters, raising an eyebrow. "Then why are you here, Y/N? Why arenât you at home with a husband who loves and protects you? Why are you the one who always has to wonder if you even matter to him?"
Tears sting your eyes, but you blink them away, refusing to let him see you break. "Youâre only saying this because of your hatred for him. You donât care about me. Youâre just as bad as him."
Justinâs smirk fades, his jaw tightening. "Maybe I am," he admits. "But at least Iâm honest about it. Can you say the same for him?"
The sound of your phone buzzing on the table snaps both of you to attention. Justin picks it up, glancing at the screen with a satisfied grin.
"Looks like he got my message," he says, holding up the phone so you can see Jaeyunâs reply:Â
Jaeyun: Where is she?
Jaeyun: Fucking bastard, I swear if you so lay a single finger on her Iâm going to kill you.
Justin tosses the phone back onto the table and crosses the room to face you. "This is it," he says, his voice dripping with confidence. "When he gets here, youâll see exactly what Iâve been trying to tell you."
You swallow hard, your heart pounding as the weight of the situation sinks in. The doubt, the fear, the flicker of hope you canât quite extinguishâit all swirls together as you wait for the man youâve spent years trying to understand to finally show his hand.
The silence in the warehouse is shattered by the sharp screech of tyres outside, the deafening sound of a car coming to an abrupt halt. Justinâs smirk falters slightly, though he quickly masks it, his eyes darting to the door.
Moments later, it bursts open with a crash, and Jaeyun strides in, his suit dishevelled, his tie loosened as if heâd rushed to get here. His eyes immediately scan the room, landing on youâbound, frightened, but alive. His expression hardens, the sharpness in his gaze like a blade cutting through the tension.
âLet her go,â Jaeyun growls, his voice low and dangerous.
Justin steps forward, placing himself between you and Jaeyun, his smirk widening again as if to taunt him. âSo predictable,â Justin sneers. âYou just couldnât resist, could you? I knew youâd come running.â
âIâm warning you, Justin,â Jaeyun snaps, his fists clenched at his sides. âLet her go.â
Justin chuckles, shaking his head. âYou think this is about her? Itâs always been about us. About showing you that youâre not invincible, that youâre not always in control.â
âIs that what this is?â Jaeyun spits, his voice rising. âA desperate attempt to prove something to yourself? Youâre pathetic.â
Justinâs expression darkens, and he steps closer to Jaeyun, his movements quick and aggressive. âPathetic? Youâre the one who couldnât even be bothered to care about her until now! Donât act like youâre some hero. You donât even love her.â
âYou have no idea what I feel for her.â Jaeyun bites back, his voice trembling with restrained fury.
The words hang in the air, and for a moment, Justin seems taken aback. But then he scoffs, his confidence returning. âWords, Sim. Just words. But actions always speak louder.â
Before you can process whatâs happening, Justin lunges, his fist aimed directly at Jaeyun. The sound of the impact is sickening, Jaeyun stumbling back as blood trickles from the corner of his mouth. But he doesnât back down.
âYou think this will prove anything?â Jaeyun snaps, his voice filled with fire as he ducks under Justinâs next swing. âYouâre nothing but a coward hiding behind your jealousy!â
Justin lets out a roar of frustration, his movements becoming more erratic as Jaeyun deflects blow after blow. Itâs brutal. You scream, your voice echoing as you plead for them to stop, but neither man listens.
The room is a whirlwind of chaos, with fists flying and grunts of effort and pain filling the air. Justinâs confidence is beginning to waver as Jaeyun fights back with an intensity that youâve never seen before. But the tide turns when Justin grabs a metal pipe from the corner of the warehouse, his face twisted with rage.
âStay back!â Jaeyun growls, shielding you as Justin brandishes the weapon.
Justinâs laugh is bitter, almost maniacal. âStay back? You think you can protect her, Jaeyun? You canât even protect yourself.â
Before you can register whatâs happening, Justinâs attention shifts to you. His gaze sharpens, his grip on the pipe tightening as he steps forward.
âMaybe sheâs the problem,â Justin sneers, his voice low and menacing. âMaybe I need to remind you whatâs really at stake.â
Your heart stops as Justin raises the pipe, his body coiling to strike. Panic floods your veins, your voice breaking as you scream, âJustin, no!â
But the blow never lands.
In an instant, Jaeyun moves, throwing himself in front of you just as Justin swings the pipe downward. The sickening sound of metal meeting flesh reverberates through the warehouse, and Jaeyun staggers, a sharp cry escaping his lips.
âJaeyun!â you scream, your voice raw with terror as he crumples to one knee, his arm instinctively clutching his side where the pipe struck. You struggle against the bindings, the rough material sinking deeper into your skin the more you tug on it.
Youâre helpless, watching the man you love cradle in pain at your feet.
Justin stumbles back, momentarily stunned by what just happened. The pipe slips from his grasp, clattering to the floor with a metallic clang. âWhy would youâ?â Justin begins, his voice faltering.
Jaeyun doesnât waste another second. Summoning the last of his strength, he lunges forward, delivering a final, powerful punch that sends Justin sprawling to the floor.
The room falls silent except for the sound of Jaeyunâs laboured breathing. He stumbles towards you, his movements unsteady but determined. âAre you okay?â he asks, his voice hoarse as he kneels to untie the ropes, his eyes scanning you for any sign of injury.
Tears blur your vision as you nod, your heart pounding in your chest. âYouâre hurt,â you whisper, your hands trembling as you reach for him.
âIâm fine,â he mutters, though the wince that follows says otherwise.
Justin groans from the floor, trying to push himself up. âThis doesnât change anything,â he sneers weakly. âYou donât care about her. This was about beating me, as always.â
Jaeyun doesnât even glance his way. Instead, he cups your face gently, his eyes searching yours. âAre you hurt?â he asks softly, his voice trembling with something you canât quite place.
âN-No,â you stammer, overwhelmed by the intensity of his gaze.
âGood,â he breathes a sigh of relief, his thumb brushing a tear from your cheek. âIâm sorry I didnât come sooner.â
Justinâs laugh is bitter and broken. âStill pretending to be the noble husband, I see. How long can you keep up the act, Jaeyun?â
Jaeyun turns to him, his expression cold and unyielding. âThis isnât about you, Justin. It never was. You wanted to prove I donât care about her, but youâre wrong. Sheâs the only thing I care about.â
The words hit you like a tidal wave, your breath catching as the weight of them sinks in.
Justin stares at Jaeyun, his confidence finally cracking as the realisation dawns. Heâs lostânot just the fight, but the twisted narrative he tried to build.
Jaeyun helps you to your feet, his arm wrapping around your waist as he steadies you. âWeâre leaving,â he says firmly, leading you towards the door without sparing Justin another glance.
As the warehouse disappears behind you, the cold night air hits your face, and for the first time in what feels like hours, you can breathe again.
âJaeyunâŠâ you begin, your voice trembling as he helps you into the car.
âIâll explain everything,â he says, his tone soft but resolute. âBut first, letâs get you home.â
And as the car pulls away, you realise that for once, you believe him.
The drive home is silent, except for the hum of the engine and the shallow breaths Jaeyun tries to control. You steal glances at him from the passenger seat, your heart twisting at the sight of him wincing with every turn of the wheel. His shirt is stained with blood, his knuckles bruised and swollen, but his grip on the wheel is steady, determined.
âJaeyun,â you whisper, your voice cutting through the tension.
He doesnât take his eyes off the road, but his jaw tightens slightly. âI told you, Iâm fine.â
âYouâre not,â you argue softly, your hands wringing in your lap. âYou need to see a doctor. Your ribsââ
âWeâll deal with it later,â he interrupts, his tone firm but not unkind. âRight now, I just need to get you somewhere safe.â
The word safe settles heavily in your chest, and youâre not sure if it means the house you share or simply being by his side.
As you pull into the driveway, the reality of the night crashes over you. The headlights flick off, leaving you both sitting in the dark, the faint sound of crickets filling the air. You hesitate, unsure of what to say or how to move forward.
Jaeyun breaks the silence first. âLetâs get inside,â he says, his voice softer now, almost gentle.
You follow him to the door, his movements slower and more careful than usual. Once inside, he collapses onto the couch with a heavy sigh, leaning back and closing his eyes as if the weight of the world has finally caught up with him.
âLet me clean you up,â you say, your voice trembling as you move towards the kitchen to grab the first aid kit.
âYou donât have to,â he murmurs, but the exhaustion in his voice tells you he wonât fight it.
When you return, kneeling beside him, he opens his eyes and watches you silently. You avoid his gaze as you press a damp cloth to the cut above his eyebrow, your hands trembling slightly.
The room is quiet now, save for the faint hum of the fridge and the soft rustling of your movements as you clean Jaeyunâs wounds. His eyes remain fixed on you, studying every flicker of emotion across your face. He winces slightly as you dab a cut on his temple, but he doesnât pull away.
You break the silence first, your voice trembling but resolute. âWhy did you really come tonight, Jaeyun?â
He exhales deeply, the tension in his shoulders visible as he leans back against the couch. âYou know why,â he says softly.
âNo, I donât,â you reply, setting the cloth down. âI donât know why, I never know why. So, please, talk to me.â Your voice falters, the weight of the night catching up with you.
âI couldnât let him hurt you,â Jaeyun replies simply, his eyes fixed on you. âIt wasnât even a question.â
The sincerity in his voice makes your throat tighten. You pause, your hand hovering over the cloth as you finally meet his gaze. âWhy?â you whisper. âWhy now? After everything? Youâve spent so much time pushing me away, avoiding me like Iâm some kind of plague. And then tonightâŠâÂ
His jaw tightens, and he looks away, his expression unreadable. âIâve been avoiding you because itâs the only way I could keep you safe.â
Your brow furrows, confusion mixing with frustration. âSafe? Safe from what?â
âFrom me,â he says, his voice barely above a whisper. âFrom my life. From the kind of man I am.â
You freeze, the confession hanging heavy in the air. âWhat are you talking about?â
Jaeyun leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he clasps his hands together. âIâm not a good person, Y/N. I never have been. In business, in life, I do what needs to be done. I act with consequences in mind, and I donât regret it. But that means Iâve made enemiesâpeople like Justin, who would do anything to see me fail.â
You stare at him, your chest tightening as the pieces begin to fall into place.
âJustin isnât the first person whoâs tried to get to me through someone I care about,â he continues, his voice steady but filled with a quiet anguish. âHe wonât be the last. And the thought of you being dragged into thatâbeing hurt because of meâis something I couldnât, and still canât handle. So I distanced myself. I thought it would protect you.â
You shake your head, your voice rising with disbelief. âSo you thought ignoring me, shutting me out, was the answer? Do you have any idea how that made me feel? How lonely itâs been, living in this house with someone who acts like I donât even exist?â
His eyes snap to yours, and you see a crack in his armour. âI know,â he says, his voice breaking slightly. âI know I hurt you. And I hated myself for it every single day. But I didnât know what else to do. Loving youâit feels like giving you a loaded gun and hoping you donât get hurt because of it.â
The words hit you like a tidal wave, leaving you breathless. âLoving me?â you echo, your voice trembling.
Jaeyun nods, his gaze unwavering. âYes,â he says firmly. âLoving you, Y/N. Keeping my distance was the only way I know that Iâm capable of loving you. Because I know you deserve better than meâbetter than the life your parents and I have dragged you into.â
His words hit you like a blow to the chest, the rawness of his confession cutting through every wall youâve built. You stare at him, your breath catching as the weight of his emotions settles over you.
The cold distance, the avoidance, the rare moments of tendernessâit all makes sense now, in the most heartbreaking way.
âYou think loving me means pushing me away?â you whisper, your voice trembling with a mixture of anger and heartbreak. âDonât you think I should get to decide what I deserve?âÂ
He looks at you, his expression filled with regret and longing. âI didnât want to be selfish,â he says quietly. âI didnât want to keep you in a life where youâd always be a target, always be second to the chaos I bring. But tonightââ His voice breaks, and he takes a shaky breath. âseeing you like that, knowing Justin had youâI couldnât⊠I couldnât stand the thought of losing you. Not like that. Not ever.â
Jaeyun looks down, his hands clenching into fists on his knees. Heâs crying nowâfully, uncontrollably crying. âI didnât want to hurt you,â he murmurs, his voice trembling. âBut I didnât know how to keep you safe without hurting you eitherâŠâ
You stay quiet, mostly because you donât even know what to say. Part of you understands Jaeyun did what he thought was right, that he truly believed he was protecting you. But another part of you is just so angryâangry at the thought that he didnât trust you enough to make decisions for yourself, angry that he acted as though he alone could determine what was best for you.
But as you look at him now, shoulders hunched, tears streaming down his face, and barely able to catch his breath as he speaks, you falter. You see the pain etched into every line of his face, the raw anguish in his voice, and you know it hurt him as much asâmaybe even more thanâit hurt you.
When you donât respond for a long moment, Jaeyun exhales deeply, his breath shaky and uneven. âI wanted you to leave me on your own,â he admits, his voice breaking, âbecause I knew I could never leave you. But you were so stubborn. You stayed. Even after everything, you stayed.â
His words hit you like a blow to the chest, striking a nerve you didnât even know was exposed. The trembling vulnerability in his voice, the quiet admission of his fears, cuts through your anger and replaces it with something elseâsomething raw, aching, and painfully bittersweet.
âYou stayed,â he repeats, his voice barely a whisper, as though he still canât quite believe it. âEven when I gave you every reason to walk away. Even when I hurt you. And I couldnât understand why.â
âDo you want to know why I stayed?â you ask, your own voice trembling now as you search his face for the answers heâs yet to give.
He nods, his tear-filled eyes meeting yours, wide and filled with uncertainty.
âHonestly, Iâve been running away from this feeling, from this truth that I was never ready to face,â you begin, your voice wavering but steady enough to push through. âAnd that is, despite everythingâdespite every bone, every nerve in my body telling me to stop doing this to myselfâI hoped. I hoped that youâd prove me wrong one day. I hoped that if I stayed long enough, maybe youâd stop pushing me away and let me in.â
Jaeyun flinches, his expression crumpling under the weight of your words. âIâm sorry,â he murmurs, his voice cracking as fresh tears spill over.
The silence that follows is heavy, thick with tension, the air between you charged with everything unsaid. His hands twitch at his sides, as though he wants to reach for you but canât quite bring himself to do it. The hesitation in his movements is almost palpable.
âI thought if you hated me,â he says finally, his voice low and pained, âit would be easier for you to walk away. But you didnât hate me. You never gave up. And that scared me more than anything.â
Your voice trembles as you stare at him, the weight of the moment pressing heavily on your chest. âI do hate you,â you admit, the words falling like stones between you. âSo much.â
Jaeyun flinches as though youâve struck him, his breath hitching, and for a moment, he looks like heâs bracing himself for more. But youâre not finished.
âBut loving youâŠâ Your voice cracks, and you take a shaky breath, blinking away the tears that blur your vision. âLoving you hurts more than hating you.â
His head snaps up, his wide, tear-filled eyes locking onto yours. The vulnerability in his gaze mirrors your own, and the silence that follows is deafening.
âIâve tried,â you continue, your voice breaking under the weight of your emotions. âIâve tried to hate you, to tell myself that itâs easier, that itâs what I should feel after everything. But it isnât. Because no matter how much youâve hurt me, no matter how much Iâve wanted to walk away, I canât stop loving you. And that⊠thatâs what hurts the most.â
Jaeyunâs breath shudders, and for a moment, he doesnât move. You can see the hesitation in his movements, the way his hands twitch at his sides as if heâs fighting the urge to reach for you.
âIâm sorry,â he whispers again, his voice trembling. âFor all of it. For every time I hurt you, every time I pushed you away when all you ever did was stay.â
Your heart clenches at the rawness in his tone, the vulnerability heâs finally letting you see. You take a small step forward, the distance between you shrinking, and for the first time, you see the cracks in his carefully constructed walls crumble entirely.
âYou donât have to apologise anymore,â you say softly, your voice trembling with emotion. âJust⊠donât make me regret staying.â
Then, as if something inside him snaps, he steps closer, his trembling hands reaching out to cup your face. âI wonât,,â he whispers, his voice thick with emotion. âI swear to you, Iâll do everything in my power to make sure I never give you a reason to hate me again.â
Before you can say anything else, Jaeyun closes the remaining distance between you. His arms wrap around you, tentative at first, as though heâs afraid youâll push him away. But when you donât, when you melt into his embrace, his hold tightens. Even with the searing pain in his ribs, he presses his body against yours as though heâs terrified of letting you go.
The warmth of his touch is overwhelming, and you bury your face in his chest, your fingers clutching at the fabric of his shirt. His heartbeat is erratic against your cheek, mirroring the rapid pounding of your own.
You tilt your head up to look at him, your breath catching as you see the intensity in his gaze. His eyes are filled with something youâve longed to seeâlove, raw and unguarded. His hand comes up to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing away a stray tear that had escaped.
âI donât deserve you,â he says softly, his voice thick with emotion.
âMaybe not,â you reply, a faint smile tugging at your lips. âBut Iâm still here.â
He leans in slowly, giving you every chance to pull away. But you donât. You meet him halfway, your lips pressing against his in a kiss that is as tentative as it is electrifying.
The world seems to fall away as his lips move against yours, soft and searching, as though heâs pouring every unspoken word, every buried emotion, into this one moment. His hand slides to the back of your neck, pulling you closer as the kiss deepens, a mixture of desperation and relief in the way he holds you.
When you finally pull away, breathless and overwhelmed, his forehead rests against yours. âI love you,â he whispers, his voice steady despite the emotion trembling beneath it.
The words hang in the air, soft but weighty, like a promise long overdue.
You nod, your fingers brushing against his cheek as you smile softly. Hearing those three words from him is something you never thought would happen, something youâd almost given up hoping for.
They settle in your chest, filling the void that had been carved out by years of distance and pain. And yet, they donât feel fleeting or uncertain. They feel real.
âI love you too,â you whisper back, the confession spilling from your lips without hesitation.
His arms tighten around you, as though anchoring himself to you, and in that moment, the weight of the past begins to fall away. It doesnât erase the hurt, the scars, or the battles youâve fought, but it lays the foundation for something new.
Something worth hoping for, worth holding onto.
The morning sunlight streams through the curtains, casting a warm glow across the bedroom. The faint chirping of birds filters through the open window, blending with the gentle rustle of leaves in the breeze. You stir beneath the covers, blinking against the golden light, and instinctively reach out.
Your hand brushes against Jaeyunâs, and his fingers wrap around yours reflexively. A soft smile spreads across your face as you realise heâs already awake, propped up on one elbow, his gaze fixed on you.
âGood morning,â he murmurs, his voice low and warm, carrying a hint of amusement as if heâs caught you in a rare, unguarded moment.
You smile, the simple greeting filling the room with a kind of light you hadnât felt in years. âGood morning,â you reply, your fingers brushing against the wedding ring that now sits firmly on your fingerâa symbol that, finally, feels like it truly means something.
Jaeyun leans down, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead before tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. âYou looked peaceful,â he says, his fingers brushing your cheek. âI didnât want to wake you.â
You laugh softly, resting your hand on his chest. âYou canât just watch me sleep, Jaeyun. Thatâs⊠mildly creepy.â
His laugh rumbles in his chest, a sound youâve come to treasure. âFair point,â he admits, his eyes sparkling.
âDo you have any plans today?â he asks, shifting closer, his arm slipping around your waist as if itâs the most natural thing in the world.
You shake your head, laughing softly. âNot unless you count breakfast.â
He grins, the boyish charm you rarely saw before now shining through. âI was hoping we could spend the day doing nothing. Just⊠being here. Together.â
You nod, the simplicity of the suggestion warming you. âIâd like that.â
The morning unfolds with quiet moments that feel extraordinary in their ordinarinessâJaeyun making coffee, you teasing him about burning the toast, laughter filling the kitchen as you both try to perfect pancakes. Itâs these moments, you realise, that make a life worth living. Not grand gestures or elaborate plans, but the small, quiet ways you choose each other every day.
As the day stretches on, you find yourselves curled up on the sofa, your head resting on his shoulder while his fingers absentmindedly trace patterns along your arm. The television hums in the background, forgotten as you both bask in the peace you fought so hard to find.
The man beside you now isnât the distant, closed-off Jaeyun you once knew. Heâs present, attentive, and more open than you ever thought possible. It wasnât an overnight change, thatâs for sure. But somewhere along the way, you both chose to stop runningâfrom yourselves, from each other, and from the future you could build together.
What you have now feels special, priceless. You wouldnât trade it for anything in the world. Youâve learned, through pain and healing, that happiness doesnât come from wealth or success. True happiness comes from love.
The kind of love that makes you giddy inside.
The kind of love you once believed only existed in fairy tales.
The kind of love that everyone seeks but few find.
The kind of love youâve found with him.
They say if heâs not calling, itâs because youâre not on his mind. Once, you believed that. You let it eat away at you, let it shape your every thought, every quiet moment when his absence felt louder than words. You told yourself his silence was a choice, that his excuses were just another way to say you didnât matter enough.
But now, sitting beside him as the evening light filters through the curtains, his hand resting over yours, you realise how wrong you wereânot about the hurt, not about the cracks that formed between you, but about what lay beneath them. He wasnât running because you didnât matter. He was running because you mattered too much. And it took breaking everything apart for you both to understand how to rebuild it.
Your gaze falls to the tattoo on your ring finger, a faint mark that once felt like a brand tethering you to emptiness. Itâs still there, as permanent as the scars this marriage once bore. But now, itâs different. Itâs not a reminder of disappointment or neglect, not a mark of the silence that stretched between you. Itâs a symbol of endurance, of a love thatâs messy and flawed but undeniably real.
But youâve learned that love isnât about perfection. Itâs about showing up, about facing the hard truths and still choosing to stay.
âBusyâ may have once been his excuse. But now, âalwaysâ is his answer.
Always.
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SMOKE SCREENS & CIGARETTES â lee heeseung (m)
How does it feel to be the you that has abandoned the façade of living up to the expectations of others, venturing into the uncharted territories of your inner truth, and exploring the new horizons of what it means to be truly and completely you?
IN WHICH; a popular girl uncovers the smart goody-two-shoes is, in fact, living a double life.
word count: 50.4k đ
pairing: collegestudent!heeseung x collegestudent!fem!reader
featuring: enhypen, yunjin sakura and chaewon from lesserafim etc.
genre: college au, ANGST, family drama, corporate drama, young adult, friends to lovers, slice of life
warnings: this story contains usage of strong language, references to addictive behaviours (drinking/smoking), depiction of emotional and physical abuse, FAMILY DRAMA, and slight sexual content (no detailed smut). reader discretion is advised. minors please do not interact.
disclaimer: this is a work of pure fiction. If any context is similar to any other stories, it's either inspired (in which credit will be given) or just a coincidence. the characters' personalities, words, actions and thoughts do not represent them in real life. any resemblance to any real life events or person, present or past, are purely coincidental. i apologise in advance for any spelling or grammar mistakes. had to split this into 2 parts because of the block limit (L tumblr).
this is really important: while reading there will be images. do NOT click into them and scroll in the possibility that you scroll too far and spoil yourself. if possible and capable, i suggest really finding the time to sit down and read it all in one setting. i know the word count is pretty horrendous but trust. also it's gonna take you forever to find where you stopped LOL. i didn't intend for it but this gives a little kindred vibes in terms of circumstances. i guess i have issues đ€·ââïž
tags: #tfwy smokescreens&cigarettes #tfwy au
perm taglist. @hajimelvr @s00buwu @urmomssneakylink @bubblytaetae @mrchweeee @artstaeh @sleeping-demons @yuviqik @junsflow @blurryriki @hueningcry @fakeuwus @enhaslxt @neocockthotology @katarinamae @ilovejungwonandhaechan @mitmit01
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part one | part two
Copyright© 2024 thatfeelinwhenyou All Rights Reserved
#enhypen#jungwon#heeseung#sunghoon#belift#hybe#jay#sunoo#enhypen fluff#jake#ni ki#lee heesung x reader#lee heeseung au#lee heeseung#heeseung oneshots#lee heeseung smut#heeseung smau#enha heeseung#heeseung au#heeseung x reader#enhypen angst#enhypen au#enha x reader#enhypen scenarios#enhypen oneshots#tfwy smokesceens&cigarettes#tfwy au
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THE TATTOO ON MY RING FINGER âPREMIERES @ 15th DEC SUN 0000 KST
word count: 22k
pairing: ceo!jake x fem!reader
genre: marriage of convenience, slow burn romance, enemies to lovers (kinda), second chance romance, angst
taglist: officially opened! comment, send ask or submit the form on my profile to be added.
notes from nat: i know i'm supposed to be working on my won smau... but this was brewing in my drafts and i just happen to start writing, and yeah... don't worry i'm still working and trying my best to push the smau out as quick as i can, in the meantime enjoy this very impromptu one-shot!
READ HERE
TEASER
They say if heâs not calling, itâs because youâre not on his mind. The first time you heard it, you shrugged it off. Of course, it wasnât true. He was busy, wasnât he? Busy with work, with meetings, with people who needed his attention more than you did in that moment. You told yourself it didnât mean anything when the texts became shorter, when the phone calls grew less frequent, when the hours between hearing from him stretched into days.
But over time, the silence becomes heavier. The excuses, sharper. If he promised to be home by eight and didnât show until eleven, it was work. If he forgot to call when he said he would, it was exhaustion. You let these small disappointments settle into the cracks of your relationship, a habit you didnât even notice forming until you could barely remember what it felt like to be a priority.Â
You tell yourself heâs under pressure, that heâs got a lot on his plate. But deep down, thereâs a gnawing thought that wonât leave you alone: If he wanted to, he would. If he cared, heâd show up. Not just in the big moments, but in the small, forgettable onesâthe ones that donât require much but say everything. A text to check in, a call to ask how your day went. Something to remind you that you matter, that you still have a place in the life he leads without you.
But the truth settles in like a bitter cold creeping under your skin: he doesnât think about you the way you think about him. When heâs late, when he misses promises, when he leaves you waitingâitâs not a fluke. Itâs a choice. And the more you excuse it, the more he learns that itâs okay to disappoint you, that your needs can always wait. Heâs fine with it because he doesnât have to feel the weight of your frustration, your sadness, your growing resentment.
"Busy" has become his favourite shield, his go-to excuse for everything. But âbusyâ is just another way of saying, "I donât care enough." âBusyâ is what he hides behind when he doesnât want to confront the fact that heâs letting you down, over and over again.Â
And each time, you forgive him. Each time, you swallow your hurt, tell yourself itâs not a big deal, and convince yourself to wait a little longer for him to make the effort youâre aching for.
But deep down, you know. "Busy" is another word for âasshole.â And âassholeâ is another word for the man youâre married to.
#enhypen#jungwon#heeseung#sunghoon#jay#sunoo#jake#ni ki#belift#hybe#enhypen x reader#enhypen au#jakesim#jake sim#enhypen jake#jake x reader#sim jaeyun#sim jake#enhypen angst#enhypen oneshots#enhypen smau#tfwy thetattooonmyringfinger#tfwy au
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SMOKE SCREENS & CIGARETTES â PREMIERES @ 15th OCT TUES 0000 KST
How does it feel to be the you that has abandoned the façade of living up to the expectations of others, venturing into the uncharted territories of your inner truth, and exploring the new horizons of what it means to be truly and completely you?
IN WHICH; a popular girl uncovers the smart goody-two-shoes was in fact living a double life.
out now!
pairing: collegestudent!heeseung x collegestudent!fem!reader
word count: 50.4k (idk how i managed this...)
taglist: officially opened! please accept my sincerest apologies for taking so long...let me know if you wanna be added into this one đ alternatively, u can fill up the taglist form (must be 18+ to be added, please be honest about this. frankly speaking, it's not that suggestive and these parts can be easily skipped, but do read with responsibility!)
#enhypen#hybe#belift#heeseung#jungwon#sunghoon#jay#jake#sunoo#ni ki#lee heesung x reader#lee heeseung au#lee heeseung#heeseung oneshots#heeseung x reader#heeseung au#enha heeseung#enhypen crack#enhypen au#enhypen angst#enhypen x reader#enhypen fluff#enhypen smut#tfwy smokesceens&cigarettes#tfwy au
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SMOKE SCREENS & CIGARETTES â part one
#1 - The Two Worlds
Lee Heeseung is always known as the quiet boy in class. Although his popularity in school would suggest otherwise, he is never viewed as the rebellious or partying type. In fact, he is the kind of student who reminds the teacher about pending assignments just as the lesson is about to conclude. Simply put, Lee Heeseung fits the stereotype of a nerdâat least, that's the version of him you are accustomed to.
So, when you unexpectedly encounter him at a club in another city during your summer break, his hair, now sporting green highlights, is slicked back instead of covering his eyes as it typically does on campus. He has multiple metal studs hanging from his earlobe, but above all, he seems to be thoroughly enjoying himself, dancing, drinking, and smoking without inhibition. Needless to say, you are taken aback.
While it's not uncommon for an overage university student to be partying during their vacation, this is Lee Heeseung we're talking about. The last thing you'd expect is to see him in Club Dark Moon, one hand holding a glass of some intoxicating liquid, and the other wrapped around the waist of a girl who appears to be of similar age to yourself.
This is the same Lee Heeseung who never knows when to take a hint in class, always finding an opportunity to correct the teacher. The Lee Heeseung who never fails to maintain perfect posture throughout 3-hour long lectures. The Lee Heeseung who becomes unresponsive and distant when the conversation veers away from academic topics. The Lee Heeseung who secretly envies you because you embody everything he isn't.
Now, in the flesh, is The Lee Heeseung embodying everything you thought he wasn't.
You are popular yourself, considering your extroverted and altruistic nature; you are popular because you know how to party. Lee Heeseung is popular because he is a quiet and smart kid yet has a mysterious aura that makes him so god damn attractive. The two of you are complete polar opposites, each other's antonyms, and while possessing many contradictory qualities, you are actually similar to one another in many ways that don't meet the eye.
You frequently attend the weekly Friday night parties hosted by the university fraternities. And with each step you take, you effortlessly command the attention of every person present, your magnetic presence impossible to ignore. Everybody yearns to be in your orbit; guys want you, while girls admire your confidence and charisma, secretly wishing to be you. Your friends eagerly drag you to every party down the block, basking in the reflected glow of being associated with The Y/L/N Y/Nâa name synonymous with popularity and social prowess.
Despite the overwhelming amount of attention you receive throughout your undergraduate career, a persistent sense of unease gnaws at you as you find yourself grappling with a profound sense of disconnection. While externally you seamlessly blend into the pulsating dynamic of university life, internally, youâre like a solitary figure navigating a sea of expectations and obligations. You fit in, but at the same time, you donât.
You always think that maybe you're just stressed out with assignment deadlines. Well, clearly, since youâre partying when you should be working on the next paragraph of your final year thesis. If only the answer were as simple as that.
No, you're not stressed. You just simply do not belong to the party life. However, as the nights blur into days and the days into weeks, you begin to feel the weight of societal expectations pressing down on you, particularly the burden of being labelled as the "popular kid." And popular kids always arrive fashionably late to every party. Popular kids are the lives of the party. Popular kids are party animals.
By the time you noticed your desolation, you're already too far gone, you've convinced yourself that this is your life and all you have to do is suck it up. This label of being the âpopular kidâ becomes both a mantle of honour and a burden to bear, as you struggle within the confines of a stereotype that fails to encapsulate the complexity of your identity.
You're constantly trying to squeeze yourself into the mould of expectations that your peers have so delicately carved out for you, that you often find yourself questioning the authenticity of your existence, wondering if the façade of popularity is worth sacrificing yourself. Your true self.
And that's being the ambitious and studious girl you always were and still are. You would rather stay at home and finish writing your 100-page psychological analysis on 'Social Cognition and Perception', or finish reading the third volume of the 'Persuasion, Propaganda, and Marketing' trilogy. Hell, you would even rather do a mountain of chores than attend another frat party.
Though you long to share your intellectual passions with your friends, you hesitate, aware that their interests lie elsewhere. Theyâre in it for the social society life, effortlessly navigating sorority events and basking in the glow of admiration that comes with being in your inner social circle. Yet, beneath their carefree façade, they remain oblivious to the dedication and diligence required to maintain your impeccable grades. Only assuming that youâre a natural-born beauty and brains.
Itâs your last break before your final semester and you are thrilled as you eagerly plan your to-do list over the summer break. Maybe learn to play the guitar, go on a hike, or finally start reading that fiction book you had put off for months. You envision checking it all off before the final semester begins. However, your plans are unexpectedly put on hold when your friends suggest a pre-graduation chalet trip to a province northeast of Seoul.
This trip marks your first time travelling outside of the city, and it's with your adventurous, somewhat reckless friends. The decision is made hastily, with everything arranged at the eleventh hour. Your friends unanimously agree to simply "go with the flow," as Yunjin puts it.
Unfortunately for you, your meticulous personality type craves structure and detailed planning, and you are only able to feel at ease if you have an itinerary to follow.
Hence, itâs not a surprise that you were apprehensive about embarking on this trip. You even considered skipping the excursion altogether. Except that wouldn't be fitting for a popular kid, would it? Popular kids should be laid-back and adaptable, they should be going with the flow too, they do not need people telling them what to do should listen and act on what people expect of them.
"Y/N! We're leaving in 5 minutes, will you be ready soon?" Chaewon barges into your room in the Airbnb that the four of you share. Despite your reluctance, you plaster on your flawless façade and smile. "Yes, yes, I'm ready. So impatient as always," you half-jokingly roll your eyes, relieved that Chaewon doesn't catch the genuine hesitation in your tone.
Itâs not that you dislike your friends or anything; in fact, you're grateful that they're the most genuine people you've met at university. Unlike most students who sacrifice their integrity to gain favour, your friends are refreshingly candid about their opinions of you. While you and Chaewon didn't hit it off at first, now you're practically two peas in a pod. Yet, it doesn't change the fact that you've become a puppet catering to your friends' partying whims.
As you gaze into the mirror, you confront a version of yourself that you yourself could barely recognise. The person you once wereâvibrant, authentic, and unapologetically yourselfâhas become obscured beneath layers of societal expectations and peer pressure. Still, it wouldnât be the first time choosing to pretend the girl in the mirror is you, because whatâs another day of grinding up your confidence and making it a meal that would last you an hour at best?
So, you do what you do bestâpicking out the skimpiest dress you own, spraying on your most testosterone-provoking perfume, and drawing a cat-eye sharp enough to kill anyone who dares to meet your gaze.
You settle into the passenger seat of the taxi while your three friends squeeze into the back. Your first destination is Club Dark Moon, one of the province's most popular and bustling nightclubs. The bouncer checks your IDs and ushers you inside, the scene unfolding just as you anticipated for a Friday night.
The dance floor is packed, with male and female dancers taking their positions on mini-stages scattered around the room. The air is thick with the scent of alcohol mixed with hours of piled-up perspiration, nearly causing you to visibly gag. Nevertheless, you force a smile despite the prospect of being pressed up against complete strangers, moving to the beat in a tango of privacy invasion.
"Hey! You guys made it!" Jay calls out from the private booth you reserved earlier in the week. Despite the night still being relatively young, the table is already littered with empty bottles of cheap alcohol, the kind that debt-induced university students can afford. Almost immediately, Yunjin prances over to the booth and squeezes herself between Jay and Sunghoon, swiftly downing a glass of whatever leftover alcohol was in it before you even reach them.
"PSA: I will not be the one babysitting her and dragging her vomit-covered body back to the Airbnb later tonight," Sakura declares, promptly supported by Chaewon, leaving you designated as tonight's caretaker.
"Hey," you greet the two boys, though your attention remains fixed on Yunjin, who just finished another drink. Sunghoon appears to notice your distressed complexion, grasping your wrist and gently turning you to face him. "You look like you need to unwind tonight. Don't worry, we'll take care of her," he reassures you, his tone of voice having some sort of soothing effect on you.
Honestly, you'd be perfectly content not drinking much tonight anyway, but dealing with a drunken Yunjin is... a whole other challenge. Grateful, you offer Sunghoon a smile and a pat on the back before heading to the dance floor to do what you do bestâput on a show.
It doesn't take long before you find yourself on one of the mini-stages, the effects of a few drinks starting to kick in just as expected. The strap of your black mini-dress slips off your shoulder, and the hem rides up your thigh, possibly revealing whateverâs underneath to the crowd. Once again, you're the centre of attention, and you're used to it. The predatory stares you receive start to feel unsettling, but what can you do? You were made for this exact moment.
Sakura joins you on stage, and together, you put on an electrifying performance, dancing against each other, feeling the heat of her body pressed against yours. At one point, she even buries her face in the crook of your neck, pretending to plant kisses on your shoulder. Itâs not long before you notice your vision slowly becoming hazy from the combination of body heat and the alcohol being pushed on you by your friends.
You're aware that you've crossed the boundary between sober to tipsy, and continuing at this pace will likely leave you nursing a migraine on the floor of your Airbnb tomorrow morning. Youâre also aware that another glass of alcohol would only blur your senses further, and you're about to call it quits when you catch sight of a familiar face dancing across the club.
"Is that Lee Heeseung?" you mutter to yourself, Sakura noticing your distraction. "Hey, you okay? We can take a breather if you're not feeling well," she whispers just loud enough for you to hear, receiving a reassuring nod from you. She then proceeds to take your hand as you carefully manoeuvre your way downstage, your gaze still fixed on the figure you assume is Heeseung.
"Y/N! You killed it up there!" Jay's voice booms across the club, announcing it to literally every single soul in the goddamn club. Before you know it, they're chanting your name, urging you to return to the stage as if you were some caged animal in a zoo performing tricks and stunts for onlookers.
Heeseung seems to catch wind of the commotion, his ears perking up at the familiar name. He turns around, locking eyes with you, his expression betraying a hint of surprise, as if he's been caught red-handed, doing something he wasnât supposed to.
"Lee Heeseung?" you mouth his name, and that's his signal to make a swift exit. He hands his cup to the girl he was grinding onto moments ago and practically bolts through the emergency exit. By now, the cheers from the crowd around you have faded into the background. Excusing yourself, you navigate through the crowd until you reach the other side of the emergency exit, where you come face to face with none other than Lee Heeseung himself.
"Who the fuck are you?" you gawk, taking in his unusual attire as you scan him from head to toe. His eyes, now visible without glasses, appear larger than you remembered. His hair is styled back with faded green streaks in them, and gosh is that a tattoo on his chest? Who the hell is this guy?
"You already know, so why ask?" he retorts, raising his eyebrows, wrinkles creasing on his exposed forehead. "Wow, that's a record for the most words you've ever spoken to me," you quip sarcastically, realising perhaps it wasn't the best idea as he responds with a deadpan expression.
"So... you're into the party scene, huh?" you awkwardly probe, feeling thrown off by this unexpected version of Lee Heeseung standing before you.
"That's none of your business," he replies curtly. What you don't know is that the Heeseung standing in front of you is the real Heeseung, a side he's managed to conceal for most of his university career, until now, when you've downright busted him.
"What are you doing around here?" you awkwardly attempt at conversation, receiving minimal response from him. "My grandparents live nearby. I'm visiting for the break," you nod at his response, trying to come up with something to say to keep the conversation going, but to no avail. All you can do is stand there, fidgeting with the hem of your dress, when Heeseung pulls out a cigarette from his jeans pocket and offers it to you, which you decline.
He then proceeds to light it between his lips. You watch in genuine surprise, your eyebrows raising slightly at the sight of him smoking. It's unexpected, especially considering Heeseung's role as a student ambassador, a proclaimed role model for freshmen and prospective students.
The very same influential figure stands before you, with a cigarette between his teeth. You're taken aback, your mind trying to reconcile this new information as it's a stark contrast to the persona you've always known him to portray.
"You... smoke?" you ask, unable to hide your astonishment.
"Casual smoker. It's not that big of a deal," he shrugs, his tone nonchalant as he exhales a puff of smoke into the hot summer air.
"Yeah, not when you literally rebutted how people who resort to nicotine were just, verbatim, 'losers who are unable to get their lives together, so they look for an alternative to escape from reality,'" you quote him from a discussion your class had a couple of months ago during your psychology lecture on the topic of 'coping mechanisms.'
"Never said I wasn't one of them," he shrugs, turning to look at you. His doe eyes seem to be trying to send you a telepathic message, and you find yourself captivated by their intensity. You're struck by a mixture of surprise and intrigue, wondering what led him to this moment of contradiction. You simply nod in response, not because you don't have anything to say, as a matter of fact your mind is racing, but because his intimidating yet attractive demeanour has rendered you completely speechless.
It's no secret that Lee Heeseung is good-looking, but the scene in front of you suggests he's more than just good-looking. He's hot as fuck, and you can't deny the allure of his rebellious aura. His presence exudes an undeniable magnetism, and you can't help but feel a flutter of butterflies in your stomach.
"Look, you're obviously not getting the memo," he says, taking the cigarette between his fingers. "Can we pretend we never saw each other? You go back to doing whatever you do, and I'll go back to doing mine. Deal?"
You stare at him, uncertain of his intentions. Sure, you could keep a secret or two, and you're confident you would have kept quiet about what you saw even without him asking. But the urgency in his tone makes you wonder: What is Lee Heeseung really hiding? The request feels more like a demand, and you can't shake the feeling that there's more to this encounter than meets the eye.
"Yeah, sure, I can keep it on a hush-hush, but I'm just asking out of curiosity..." you start cautiously, not wanting to push his boundaries. You only finish your sentence when you hear him sigh as if he already knows what you're about to ask.
"Why don't you go around school looking like this more often? I'm pretty sure you'd be way more popular if you didn't have your hair covering your eyes. Your eyes are really pretty, by the way, though I'm sure you've heard that like a thousand times before," you start rambling before you realise it. Heeseung just stares at you, his head tilted to one side, looking stunned, amused even. You can't help but feel a mix of embarrassment and frustration at your own inability to keep your curiosity in check.
"I have a reason for it, though I don't really feel like telling you," he says, taking another puff of the cigarette. This time, he blows the smoke out in your face, adding a touch of defiance to his response. The mainstream smoke formed a screen almost intentionally between you and him, a subtle barrier signalling that the two of you are from different worlds, enjoying different luxuries. You nod, taking the hint that he doesn't want you pushing any further than you already have.
"Well, if you're ever out and about again, you know who to call," you say, trying to inject a note of lightness into the atmosphere. Heeseung raises his brow, unsure of what you're implying.
"They don't call me the party queen for no reason," you wink, turning your back towards him, ready to stroll back into the clubâback into your world.
As if the universe is toying with you, you start running into Heeseung more frequently than you would prefer at school. You saw him around campus before your little encounter over the summer break, but you never recall being so hyper-aware of his presence until now. Every time you catch sight of him, your heart skips a beat, and a rush of mixed emotionsâcuriosity, anxiety, even a bit of excitementâfloods over you.
It's not that you're avoiding him; you just can't look at him the same way. The fact that you're hiding a life-changing secret (to him at least) makes you extremely cautious walking around campus. You feel a strange sense of responsibility, almost protectiveness, and it weighs heavily on your mind. You can't help but tense up whenever his name comes up in conversations with your friends, afraid that someone might notice your unease and start asking questions you aren't prepared to answer.
"You know if you keep acting so strange whenever we so much as breathe the same air, your friends are gonna start asking questions," Heeseung says, creeping up behind you while you're searching for research materials for your thesis in the library.
"Holy fuck! You scared the shit out of me. Please don't do that again," you whisper-shout, trying to keep your volume down as you notice students around shooting you annoyed gazes, disturbed by your sudden shriek. "What are you doing here?"
"The library is a property of Decelis University, and I'm a student. What do you think?" he responds with a smirk, clearly enjoying your flustered reaction. His casual demeanour only adds to your flustered state. You can't help but feel irritated at his nonchalance but also admiration for the way he carries himself so effortlessly.
"Do you always have to answer in such an arrogant manner?" you ask, and he chuckles. It's the first time you've heard him laugh, and you find yourself oddly captivated by his straight, pearly white teeth. Once again, you catch yourself noticing another feature of his that you never really paid attention to in the past.
"Besides, where else would you find a nerd? The llibrary is basically my second home," he adds with a smug look on his face. Oh, how you wish you could rip that expression off his face. You mumble softly, but just loud enough for him to hear, "You're intolerable," before turning your attention back to the rows of books in front of you.
"Seriously though, you have to stop being so awkward," Heeseung teases, a mischievous glint in his eyes.
"I am not awkward," you retort, rolling your eyes and continuing to scan the shelves for any knowledgeable book titles so you can get out of there and away from him as soon as possible. The proximity to him is unnerving, making your heart race in a way that frustrates you.
"You so are!" Heeseung ruffles your hair almost as if itâs the most natural reaction for him. His touch is surprisingly gentle, and it sends a shiver down your spine.
"I don't recall us being that close..." you comment, trying to straighten out the hair he had so rudely messed up. Your fingers tremble slightly as you fix your hair, the unexpected intimacy of the gesture lingering.
"Ouch, I guess it was all one-sided all along," Heeseung says, clutching his chest as if heâs been shot. His dramatic antics are so out of character for the reserved student ambassador you thought you knew, and you can't help but let out a small giggle at how goofy he looks.
You never imagined that Lee Heeseung, known to be overzealous, would be standing in front of you right now, showing this playful and relaxed side of himself that he had bottled up for so long. It's a side of him that only you have the privilege to witness, and it makes you question everything you thought you knew about him.
You wonder what other facets of his character heâs hiding and why heâs chosen to reveal this side to you now. All because you know his little alter ego? Unlikelyâyouâve already assured him you wouldnât tell. Because he wants to uncover a secret of yours so that he'd have something against you too? Probably.
The thought makes your stomach twist. Is he trying to level the playing field, to make sure you both have something to lose? The idea unsettles you, but you can't deny the intrigue it stirs. What would he want to know about you? And more importantly, what are you willing to reveal?
You shake your head slightly, trying to clear your thoughts. The libraryâs quiet atmosphere suddenly feels charged with unspoken tension. You glance at Heeseung, whoâs watching you with a knowing look, a slight smirk still playing on his lips. Thereâs a challenge in his eyes, a silent dare that both excites and unnerves you.
As much as you want to find your books and leave, a part of you wants to stay and uncover more about the enigmatic Heeseung. His duality is captivating, and you feel a pull towards him, an urge to understand the layers beneath his composed exterior. Your mind races with questions, but for now, you allow yourself to enjoy this rare, unguarded moment with him, feeling a bond forming that you never anticipated.
"Well," you finally say, breaking the silence, "if youâre going to keep surprising me like this, I guess Iâll have to get used to it."
Heeseung chuckles softly, his eyes never leaving yours. "I guess you will. And who knows, maybe youâll surprise me too."
"What are you doing here on a Friday afternoon anyway? Don't you have another party to go to or something?" Heeseung asks, scanning the stack of books on the cart youâve picked out during your short conversation.
"I do actually, thought I could have a little me time before I get back to it," you reply without much thought. But Heeseung, being... well, Heeseung, immediately analyses your seemingly meaningless words.
"I'd assume you'd be a slave to fame at this point. Never knew the Y/L/N Y/N would appreciate some quiet time," he intentionally probes, hoping to get some sort of reaction out of you. As always, he hits the mark.
"There's a lot about me that you don't know, so don't assume shit about anything," you snap back, surprised by the aggression in your own voice. Before you can apologise, Heeseung does.
"Sorry, that was senseless of me."
"No, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have lashed out at you like that. It's just... y'know, the popular girl gets tired and weighed down by all the attention too," you smile at him, but it doesnât reach your eyes, and Heeseung notices.
"Anyway, I gotta go sort these out," you say, referring to the stack of books. "I'll see you in class." Youâre already moving away before Heeseung has the chance to say anything. He only manages to mumble a quiet, "Bye," but he doubts you heard him.
You did.
In class, all you can think about is how, despite the lecture hall being ridiculously spacious, Heeseung still chooses to sit in the seat right in front of you, forcing you to stare at the back of his head throughout the entire lesson. You notice he no longer has the green highlights in his hair and wonder when he dyed it back. You also thought that after the encounter the both of you had in the school library yesterday, he'd be avoiding you too.
So, why did he choose to sit here, right in front of you? Is it a coincidence, or is he trying to send a message? The questions swirl in your mind, each one more unsettling than the last. You try to shake them off, but they cling to you like the smoke from his cigarette.
This class isnât even compulsory. You signed up for an additional course on music production after developing a minor interest in DJ-ing, thanks to your extensive partying experience. Mostly, though, you took it for the extra credit and the convenient timingâSaturday eveningsâgiving you a perfect excuse to skip clubbing with your friends.
You were shocked to see Heeseung on the first day of class, especially since you had no idea about his interest in music production. That was before you discovered he was a beast on the dance floor. Now that you know about his little side hustle, it all starts to make more sense.
The professorâs voice drones on, but your mind is elsewhere. You steal glances at Heeseung, who seems completely absorbed in taking notes. You find yourself analysing every detail of his appearance and behaviour. The way his shoulders move as he writes, the occasional tilt of his head, even the subtle way he shifts in his seat.
You remember the way he looked at you in the library, the way he made you feel both exposed and connected. His presence is distracting, making it hard to focus on anything but the mystery he represents. You force yourself to pay attention to the lecture, scribbling down notes and trying to absorb the material. But your thoughts keep drifting back to Heeseung and the strange dynamic thatâs developing between you two.
"Alright class, as we approach your final semester at Decelis, the faculty has been observing your work thus far and has paired you up for a final-year project," the professor announces, prompting a chorus of groans, sighs, and a few enthusiastic cheers from the lecture hall. You mentally curse yourself for not reading up on the coursework before applying; you're already overwhelmed with your thesis, and now you have another project to juggle.
"Settle down. Although the result of your work will not directly affect your GPA, you must actually submit this project to pass the course. Any poor quality or late submissions can and will be reflected on your student record," the professor continues, causing another wave of mixed emotions to ripple through the room.
"Now, don't be so discouraged; at least you'll be working in pairs!" The professor tries to lighten the mood, but it doesn't help much since the students aren't even allowed to choose their own partners. "We have paired you up with partners who either have similar working styles or share the same music taste. Hence, we will not be entertaining any requests to switch partners."
"Gosh, it keeps getting worse," the girl beside you mutters, and you silently snicker at her remark. Just when you think it couldn't get any worse, you're blindsided by the professor's announcement of your partner: Lee Heeseung.
Heeseung turns around in his seat, his usual smirk firmly in place. "Looks like we're stuck with each other," he says, a hint of amusement in his voice.
You force a smile. "Yeah, lucky me."
Youâre not particularly thrilled about this pairing because working with Heeseung means constantly being schooled and corrected. The worst part is, you probably canât even refute him because, although he says it in the worst way possible, heâs never wrong.
On the other hand, you are interested to see how he'd tackle a music production project. You know he is more of a textbook learner, so when yours and Heeseung's names slip out of the professor's mouth in the same sentence, you are curiousâexcited evenâto witness another side of Lee Heeseung that he's never shown to anyone.
Part of you even hopes you'd be paired up with him because you want to talk to him privately without students walking past and giving the two of you weird or judgmental looks. Of course, they would stare; you belong in completely different pigeonholes.
After the lesson is dismissed, you take the chance to talk to him. "Heeseung, hey!" you greet him as he stands up from his seat, packing his bag. To your relief, he doesn't seem to be upset with you about what happened yesterday in the library.
"Y/N!" He is about to give you a playful dab but then realises it probably isn't a good idea with the lecture hall still filled with students. However, you think it is because of what you said about not being "that close," and for a second, you feel a sense of guilt wash over you.
"I was thinking we should get this project started so we can get it over and done with. You cool with that?"
"I was about to ask you the same thing," he smiles, and you can't help but scream internally. It's such a shame that no one else can see this smile of his.
"What about my place?" Heeseung suggests innocently, but your mind takes it out of proportion with your unnecessary imagination that you know would be better for both you and him to keep to yourself. A slight blush creeps up your cheeks, and you pray to God that Heeseung doesn't notice it.
He does but chooses not to pick on you about it, mainly because he feels his own cheeks heating up too. "Yeah sure, tomorrow okay for you?" he nods, and you reach your hand out to him. He tilts his head to the side, weighing his options before deciding to take it.
You laugh out loud at how cute he looks in the moment. "I was asking for your phone so I could give you my number, but this works too," you tease him, and he quickly pulls his hand back, jokingly pouting, which you find to be adorable.
Heeseung hands you his phone, and you enter your number. "There you go," you say, handing it back to him.
"See you tomorrow then," you say, giving him a small wave as you turn to leave.
When Heeseung texts you his home address, you can't help but feel a twinge of intimidation. You recognise the street name as one where high-status families reside in their luxurious landed properties.
You are further proven right when you alight from the taxi that manoeuvred through the neighbourhood with great difficulty to a meticulously maintained garden surrounding a grand, modern mansion. The sheer size of the property is daunting, and donât even get you started on the rows of luxury cars parked outside. Your nerves tighten as you approach the front door, feeling like youâre about to step into a different universe.
Despite knowing you shouldn't be prejudicedâafter all, you're a victim of it yourselfâthe thought of potentially running into his parents, siblings, or even distinguished guests scares you shitless. The last thing you want is to embarrass yourself in front of rich, snobby, and arrogant boomers.
However, you know better than to let that fear deter you from your original goal: completing this godforsaken project. Before you know it, you're ringing the doorbell to his private estate, which is oddly isolated from the rest of the neighbourhood. The gates open, and you step throughâinto his world.
#2 - The Parallel
Lee Heeseung is the eldest son of the Lee Group, South Korea's largest and most successful healthcare conglomerate. His father, Lee Daeseong, owns Seoul National Hospital and oversees a vast network of clinics, pharmacies, and even veterinary practices. The Lee family boasts a lineage of healthcare professionals, including renowned doctors, surgeons, psychologists, veterinarians, dentists, and pioneering lab researchers.
They arenât just limited to healthcare either; the family also controls one of the countryâs biggest and most luxurious department stores. This revelation surprises you, given that Heeseung never gave off any impression of being well-off, let alone being the eldest son of one of Koreaâs richest and most influential families.
You stare in awe as you stroll along the ridiculously long hallway leading to the main living room. The walls are adorned with certificates, trophies, and commemorative pictures showcasing his family's impressive lineage. With each step, you feel smaller and more intimidated, overwhelmed by the weight of their achievements. If your impression of Heeseung hasnât shifted by now, this discovery definitely did, but you try your best not to let your nervousness show.
You consider the possible reasons why Heeseung has chosen to hide such a significant part of his life behind closed doors. Maybe he was forced to keep it a secret? That seems plausible as you imagine yourself in his shoesâdealing with strangers sucking up to you, not because they wanted to be friends, but because they wanted a taste of old money and power.
As you painstakingly reach the end of the highly esteemed yet spacious foyer, you emerge into a lavishly furnished living area with high ceilings and large windows that let in an abundance of natural light. It exudes typical rich family vibes: unnecessarily large chandeliers, sofas upholstered in the finest fabrics that stretch for what seems like miles, a TV almost the size of your bed back home mounted on the wall, and a grand piano that likely hasn't been touched in ages, standing elegantly in the corner.
The air is perfumed with a subtle, expensive fragrance, and everything gleams with a polished sheen, making you acutely aware of the disparity between this world and your own. You can't help but feel a little out of place.
A friendly old lady approaches you, her steps soft and practised, offering to take your coat and presenting you with comfortable house slippers to switch out your dirty Air Forces for. "Thank you," you say, bowing slightly, feeling a pang of awkwardness in this palace-like setting. You guess she is well into her 70s, her demeanour warm and welcoming yet impeccably professional.
"The young master is upstairs in his room, the last door in the corridor to the right. Be careful not to make too much noise when you pass by the other rooms; Mr. Lee is resting," she advises, prompting you up the huge flight of stairs leading to the second floor. You gulp at her warning, knowing well that the "Mr. Lee" she refers to is Heeseung's father.
As you ascend the stairs, the opulence of the house continues to impress and intimidate you. Each step you take echoes lightly, the staircase grand and sweeping, lined with a plush carpet that feels luxurious under your feet. The walls are adorned with intricate woodwork and expensive art pieces that seem to whisper stories of the family's history and prestige. Finally, you reach the corridor and make your way to the last door on the right, careful to tread lightly as you pass by the other rooms. Your heart races, not just from the physical exertion but from the anticipation of seeing Heeseung in this new light.
You knock softly on the door, your knuckles barely making a sound on the polished wood. The door opens almost immediately, and Heeseung stands there, a welcoming yet slightly embarrassed smile on his face.
"Hey, you made it." Heeseung greets you, stepping aside to allow you into his room before closing the door behind him. "You sleep here?" you ask, scrutinising your surroundings and taking in the spaciousness of his room. "It's the size of my apartment," you add, fawning in awe.
Heeseung shrugs, seemingly indifferent. "It's alright, I guess? I'm not really home most of the time anyway."
"Oh? Then what made you suggest doing it here?" you inquire, genuinely curious.
"I have a producing studio," he replies nonchalantly as if it's the most normal thing ever to have a fully equipped studio in your house. Given the size of his mansion, you're not entirely surprised. Who knows what other unconventional amenities this dreamhouse has to offer? You nod slowly, still adjusting to the opulent environment.
For a guy, his room is remarkably well-kept and smells surprisingly pleasant. The colour scheme is rather mundaneâneutral tones of grey and white, with minimal decorations. It doesn't seem to match the character of Heeseung you've come to know. It feels almost impersonal, more like a pre-decorated hotel room than a college studentâs sanctuary.
He gestures for you to take a seat on his bed, and you do so awkwardly. You catch him stealing a glance at your exposed legs, making you wonder if wearing shorts and a t-shirt was the right choice, especially since his room is absolutely freezing. "I can lend you some clothes if it makes you more comfortable," he offers, and your ears perk up at the suggestion. You immediately accept.
He returns a few minutes later with a pair of joggers and a hoodie. You throw them over your clothes, and itâs needless to say they are way too big for you. You secure the waistband as tight as you can to keep the joggers from slipping down your hips. The sleeves of his hoodie run all the way past your fingers, enveloping you in the familiar scent that comes along with itâa mixture of fresh morning dew and a hint of teakwood. You revel in the natural yet exotic scent he emanates, a fragrance that even the richest-smelling flowers would stand second to. It feels almost... homely, unlike everything else in this mansion.
"Thanks," you say, adjusting the oversized hoodie. Heeseung gives you a small smile, his eyes lingering on you for a moment longer than usual.
"No problem," he replies, his voice softer now. He moves to his desk, cluttered with music equipment and notes.
"Oh right, I really wanted to ask you something," you say, catching Heeseung's attention as he looks up. "I never really pegged you as the musical type, at least not until, you know," you trail off, and he raises an eyebrow, prompting you to continue, "When did it... start?"
"You mean the part where I'm actually a self-absorbed womaniser and also an alcoholic raging reveller?" he quips, a teasing glint in his eye.
"You said it, not me," you respond, trying to keep the mood light.
"Why do you want to know?" he asks, a hint of curiosity in his voice.
"I mean, if anyone else was in my shoes, knowing what I know, they'd be curious too," you explain. He purses his lips, nodding in agreement with your point.
"Well, I can't tell you when it started because, as far as I know, I've always been like this: partying, drinking, sex. It's fun," he shrugs nonchalantly.
"Right... and I can't get over the fact that those words just came out of your mouth. Pardon me, it's going to take a while for me to adjust to this," you say, flailing your arms to emphasise your point.
"All good, it's a first for me too. I don't think anyone knows about it, except you," he admits.
"So like... you're living your Hannah Montana dreams or what?" you joke. He scoffs, rolling his eyes, and you laugh, feeling proud of your joke.
"Why don't you want people to know?" you ask, your curiosity piqued.
"Because I can't have my father knowing," he shrugs almost emotionlessly. "Typical crazy rich Asian parents whose entire reason to have kids is so they can impose whatever corrupt business they run onto you when they so unwillingly die someday."
"Sounds like shit," you sympathise.
"You have no idea how shit it really feels: having to hide, lie, and endure the harsh reality that I'll never be able to break free from the grasp of my birth giver. Not everybody gets the freedom to enjoy doing what they want like you do," he says, his voice tinged with bitterness.
You inhale sharply, realising you've touched a sensitive topic. However, you can't help but see yourself in him. "You'd be surprised to know that I actually do."
"How so? You literally have everything: you're pretty, you have good grades, you're popular, you can do whatever the fuck you want, and nobody is going to question you," he retorts. It hits you that even Lee Heeseung can't tell apart your egos. You must have put up a hell of a show to convince someone as sceptical as him.
"You think I'm pretty? I'm honoured, sir," you joke, not wanting to escalate the tension that was so evidently present in the room. Luckily for you, swerving topics is a long-honed skill of yours, having been in similar situations with your friends. Heeseung takes the hint and lets it slide.
Heeseung can't help but notice that he somehow always manages to put his guard down whenever you're around. It's unusual, more like a once-in-a-lifetime situation for him to accidentally lash out and even trauma dump on somebody. He wonders how you could have that type of effect on him when he barely even knows you.
"Enough moping around, let's get started!" you clap, breaking the awkward silence that has enveloped the room. Heeseung hurriedly agrees, and the two of you set off on your own research for ideas and inspiration.
As you scroll through a myriad of pop songs on the web, all of which somehow sound the same, you hear a faint humming despite your headphones pressing firmly around your ears. The sound is angelic, a stark contrast to the not-so-angelic person emitting it, that you think you must be hearing things. "You sing?" you ask, intrigued.
"Sorry, I didn't notice I was humming out loud," Heeseung responds, looking slightly embarrassed.
"Nah, you're good. What song were you humming? It's got a catchy melody," you say, slowly taking off your headphones. He awkwardly chuckles, rubbing the back of his neck as he looks at you, almost embarrassed.
"It's actually a song I've been working on. It's nothing much, though. I was just humming it subconsciously," he admits.
"It's really good," youâre generous with your praise, not able to get the melody out of your head. He turns to look at you, clearly unconvinced. "I mean it." For a few seconds, you and Heeseung just stare at each other, neither willing to look away first.
Your heartbeat speeds up, and you feel heat rushing to your cheeks, tinting them with a shade of pink. The room feels charged with an energy you canât quite place. You look so divine sitting on his bed and praising his voice that Heeseung feels like he could tell you anything in the world, and you would still be sitting there, listening attentively to him.
"Thanks," he says, looking away shyly, now hyper-aware of your soft gaze on him. An epiphany strikes you as you realise that this is the inspiration you've been looking for, so you waste no time suggesting it to him.
"Actually, why don't we just produce it into an actual song? I think it'll turn out well."
"You think so? Won't it be too... I don't know, ballad-ish?" His interest is piqued when he sits upright after all this time.
"Who said we have to stick to making boring pop music?" you say, placing your hands on your hips in a jokingly menacing way. He laughs, the sound warming you.
"I'm fine with it, if you are," he says, looking expectantly at you. You nod and a huge smile creeps onto his face. You wonder if this is really the same Heeseung you met in that shady alley the day you discovered his alter ego. Because all you see in front of you is an overly excited boy, whose passion for music outweighs any nerdy stereotype or frat boy persona you once held against him.
At that moment, a saying from your psychology professor comes to mind:
"If you change the way you look at things, the things you look at change."
Was it just you, or does Heeseung remind you a lot of, well... you?
As you and Heeseung toil away on the song for hours, the room gradually darkens with the fading light outside. With a sigh of frustration, you crumple yet another failed attempt at lyrics, tossing it aside. Draft after draft, the words blur together, leaving you more lost with each attempt compared to the last.
"If I write the word 'love' one more time, I might actually lose it," you grumble, running your hands through your hair and leaning back against the headboard, eyes closed. Heeseung, noticing your weariness, suggests calling it a day. Both of you have been so immersed in your work that time has slipped away unnoticed.
"I'll finish writing this verse, and then I'll leave," you declare, sitting up straight and stretching your arms and fingers as if youâre preparing for war. Rightfully so as itâs a mental battle at this point.
Unbeknownst to you, Heeseung has been watching you intently for a while now, his gaze filled with a mix of admiration and intrigue. Seeing you draped in his oversized hoodie, diligently working on a song that on paper, wouldnât even benefit you the slightest, captivates him.
Today, Heeseung is the one who gets a glimpse of a different side of youâone that isnât defined by alcohol-fueled escapades on the dance floor. He finds it admirable how you remain dedicated to your studies despite your popularity. He knows youâre genuinely passionate about pursuing psychology; he sees it in your active participation in class, although it's often misconstrued by others as seeking attention or being humorous, the intention isnât lost on him.
Today's experience solidifies for him that you're more than just a pretty face, and witnessing your dedication cements his respect for you. Watching you research and write for hours shows him that you truly enjoy learning. How does he know? Because he's much like you, albeit in a different field. While you delve into the study of the human mind and behaviour, Heeseung pours his heart and soul into musicâthe one thing that keeps him grounded at home, if it can even be called that.
"I've heard so many sappy and depressing ballads, Iâm convinced I might end up depressed myself," you confess, crumpling yet another sheet of paper in frustration as you catch Heeseungâs gaze. Heeseung, recalling a past conversation, approaches you with a proposition.
"You know⊠about that offer you made me that day, is it still on the table?â He stands up, making his way over to you on the bed. You tilt your head, not quite sure what heâs referring to.
âOffer?â
âThe one about being called the party queen for a reason?" He prompts, extending his hand out to you. Youâre surprised, not expecting him to remember your words that were carelessly spilt from your mouth that day. You didnât even think heâd take it seriously.
"But it's a Sunday night, and we have class tomorrow."
"So what?"
"Well, shouldn't we be getting some rest?"
"Come on, Y/N, it'll be a nice break from all this. Maybe we'll even find some inspiration," Heeseung persuades, knowing you've entertained the idea yourself. After all, youâve been drowning yourself in sappy romantic ballads the past three hours or so, that you actually yearn for the club music you despised so much. âDonât tell me youâre going back on your words now?â Heeseung provokes you, and just like the people pleaser you are, you sigh and agree.
Heeseung suggests a discreet club not far from his home, and as you step inside, the air buzzes with an electric energy. Itâs immediately clear to you that this is no ordinary club, and the probability of running into a familiar face is slim, almost close to zero. The most obvious telltale being the aura of sophistication exuded by the clientele, dressed in boujee and classy bejewelled statements that speak of wealth and privilege rather than cheap mini dresses or skirts. If you felt out of place in your casual t-shirt and denim shorts, it's because you are.
"Mr. Lee, I didn't know you'd be coming tonight," the bartender addresses Heeseung, clearly recognising him. You assume he must be a regular for the bartender to call him "Mr. Lee."
"It was on short notice. Don't tell my father though," Heeseungâs playful wink is met with a knowing smile from the bartender, their interaction hinting at a shared history or inside joke.
"So, what? Your family owns clubs now?"
"Not exactly, but I'd like to think we almost run this place. The hospital employees frequent this joint so much that it's become a bit of a Lee thing," Heeseung explains kindly, his tone tinged with a hint of pride. "It's also the only entertainment establishment Iâm allowed in without being questioned by my father. If I'm going to be seen partying, it might as well be with the elites, am I right?" He shrugs.
As Heeseung's words sink in, you nod slowly, still processing the layers of his rich boy persona. The revelation adds another dimension to your understanding of his world and the complexities of his affluent background, where even leisure activities come with the weight of familial expectations and scrutiny.
Without warning, he pulls you onto the dance floor, and you can't help but remember the day you first spotted him in the crowd. You recall the look on his face when he locked eyes with you and how attractive he seemed that night. Although he still strikes you today, it's not as remarkable as he appeared the last time you saw him in this setting.
Considering that both of you practically rushed out of his mansion, he's only thrown on a plain top and a black leather jacket. His tousled hair is subtly parted down the middle, exposing his doe eyes that you've grown to appreciate. As you watch him move to the music, a pang of self-consciousness washes over you, thinking if you had something nicer to wear, youâd be turning heads by now.
"Okay, party queen, show me what you got!" Heeseung hollers, his hand firmly clasping yours as he twirls you around the dance floor with practised ease. You can't help but let out a delighted laugh, your heart quickening with the thrill of the moment. "Are you sure? I'm not easy to handle," you tease, raising an eyebrow in a playful challenge.
Undeterred by your jest, Heeseung pulls you closer by the waist. The warmth of his touch on your sides sends a shiver down your spine as you find yourself drawn into him.
Refusing to let him take control of the situation, you play tricks of your own as you throw your arms over his shoulders, drawing yourselves closer as the music pulses around you.
To your surprise, Heeseung doesn't even flinch. Instead, he envelops you in his arms, his hands now resting comfortably on the small of your back. As you gaze up at him, you catch a smirk playing on his lips. Clearly, he's no stranger to your dance floor prowess, and anyone who knows you knows that you can make any guy fold in an instant just by looking into their eyes for a little over three seconds. Well, three seconds pass and Heeseungâs gaze is still locked on yours with an undeniable spark of amusement dancing in his eyes.
"You're enjoying this more than I expected," you tease, a playful smile tugging at the corners of your lips.
"I literally have the esteemed party queen right in front of me, who wouldn't?" Heeseung's response is met with a roll of your eyes, though you canât deny the flutter of excitement in your chest at his words.
"You're annoyingly flattering, you know that?" Your voice raised slightly above the music as you playfully jab his chest. He reacts with exaggerated surprise, bumping into a nearby patron who shoots you both a disdainful look, their gaze staying on you a second longer, undoubtedly judging your attire.
Ignoring the snide glance, you and Heeseung share a knowing look before bursting into laughter. "Seems she's allergic to your impressive choice of clothing," Heeseung quips, earning an unimpressed scoff from you.
"Please, if you had given me a heads up, I'd probably be the best dressed in this shithole," you retort with a mock huff, crossing your arms in front of you. Heeseung can't help but find your playful indignation utterly endearing, though he's careful not to let it show.
As you stand there, feigning annoyance but unable to conceal the playful glint in your eye, Heeseung feels a surge of affection wash over him. Despite the glamorous setting of the club and the pretentious glances from some of the other patrons, he finds himself drawn to youâan average college girl in a place clearly out of her league, sticking out like a sore thumb among the elites.
Suppressing a smile, he reaches out to gently nudge your arm, his touch light and reassuring. "Come on now, youâll be turning heads dressed up or not," he says softly, his words sincere. In that moment, amidst the pulsating music and the dimly lit dance floor, he realises just how much he enjoys your company, your playful banter, and your unapologetic presence by his side.
The night was still relatively young, at least in your vocabulary, and just when you thought you had seen every side of this man, he managed to surprise you yet again. He dominates the dance floor with such confidence that you can't help but feel a twinge of competitiveness, sensing your throne as the party queen being challenged. Yet, there's something undeniably endearing about the sight of him, his smile radiant as he sings and dances with indifference to the music.
However, your admiration falters and you assume your eyes are deceiving you when you catch him dancing up against multiple girls, his eyes clouded with lust as he checks them out. From the intense intimacy you shared in his room earlier, dancing the night away was the last thing you expected. Yet, here you are, caught in the whirlwind of the moment.
As you sway to the music, you feel a presence coming up behind you, a young man presumably in his late twenties. You didnât reject his advances so he takes it as a positive sign to move closer with each step. Turning around, you wrap your arms around his shoulders, swaying your hips in sync with his. His response is palpable, and you revel in the power you hold over him, whispering sweet nothings into his neck as he shivers under your breath.
You chuckle subtly to yourself as you look up from the man, locking gazes with a pair of eyes you know all too well. Meanwhile, Heeseung, wrapped in the arms of another girl, stares intensely over her shoulder at your interaction with the stranger. For a fleeting moment, he imagines himself holding you, corrupting you in ways only he knows how. Sensing your gaze, he quickly diverts his attention, forcefully grabbing the jaw of the girl in front of him, kissing down her neck with a calculated intensity that surprises even you.
Shocked by his sudden display, you feel a surge of heat coursing through your body. Refusing to attribute it to him, you take matters into your own hands. You start sucking on the skin of the guy in front of you, tasting the salty remains of his perspiration that makes you cringe a little as you feel him melt into your arms. Oh, the power you have over men.
All the while, your eyes remain locked with Heeseung's, a silent challenge passing between you. In that moment, he realises the depth of the connection between you, a connection that transcends mere attraction and borders on something far more dangerous. And as he watches the scene unfold, a sense of déjà vu washes over him.
You remind him of someone, someone he knows all too wellâan uncanny resemblance to⊠himself.
Heeseung and you stumble out of the club sometime after midnight, giggling and visibly intoxicated as you lean on each other for support. He stands there, slightly swaying, with his leather jacket slung over his shoulder, a goofy smile plastered on his face. In this moment, he seems carefree and boyish, a stark contrast to the different facets of his personality you've come to know. Heeseung is a man of many faces, and you have had the honour of witnessing them all... well, almost all.
You gaze at him endearingly, reflecting on how your relationship with Heeseung has changed so drastically in just a matter of weeks. The two of you barely knew each other before; you were practically strangers with only a superficial understanding of one another. Come to think of it, you don't even know his favorite colour. However, the connection between you feels like you've known him for a lifetime, and you're sure Heeseung feels the same way.
As you stand there, the world spinning slightly from the alcohol, you reflect on how Heeseung has become a cornerstone of your life. There's a comfort in his presence that allows you to be vulnerable, showing him sides of yourself you wouldn't normally reveal to anyone else. He, in turn, seems to trust you implicitly with his deepest, darkest secrets (literally).
Not wanting this magical moment to end, you discreetly pull out your phone. You aim the camera at Heeseung, capturing him in all his gloryâhis tousled hair, his bright eyes, the unguarded joy on his face. The click of the camera shutter is soft, almost imperceptible, but the image it captures is one you know you'll treasure forever.
You are so caught up in angling your phone so the street lamp highlights his features perfectly that you don't even notice when Heeseung turns his attention to you. His smile softens as he watches you, a tender look in his eyes that catches you off guard when you finally glance up.
Snap.
"You know I'm right here in the flesh, right? Why look through a picture when you can experience the real thing?" Heeseung smirks, his eyes twinkling with mischief as you fumble with your phone, quickly hiding it behind your back. His chuckle makes your cheeks flush with embarrassment.
"Come on, I'll take you home," he says, already starting to walk away before you have a chance to protest.
"You don't really have to," you say nervously, catching up to him. He looks down at you, his warm smile making your heart skip a beat.
"It's the least I can do after dragging you out here with me. Besides, it's getting late," he replies, his voice gentle and reassuring. You fiddle with your fingernails and nod in defeat, grateful but slightly flustered.
The walk home is quiet, but it's a comforting silence, filled with unspoken words of affirmation and the soft hum of the city at night. Your outfit isn't exactly ideal for the chilly fall weather, and you mentally face-palm when you realise you left your coat at Heeseung's place. The cold seeps in, making you shiver beneath the featureless grey clouds that blanket the streets of Seoul.
Suddenly, you feel a rough, heavy material fall over your shoulders, wrapping you in warmth. Heeseung has placed his leather jacket on you after noticing your visible shivering. "Idiot, you should've worn something warmer," he scolds lightly, his concern evident in his eyes.
You chuckle, feeling a surge of gratitude and a warm blush spreading across your cheeks. "I didn't think it'd be this cold already. Also, I didn't exactly plan to stay out this long," you retort playfully, shooting him a mock glare. He smiles sheepishly, his own cheeks tinged with a faint pink.
As you continue walking, you find yourself sneaking glances at Heeseung, marveling at how quickly he has become such an important part of your life. The leather jacket smells like him, a comforting mix of cologne, cigarettes and something uniquely Heeseung. It feels like a protective embrace, and you can't help but feel a little giddy.
In what seems like no time, you find yourself standing in front of your apartment building. Heeseung glances around, surprised at how quickly the walk seemed to pass. It felt like thirty minutes, yet somehow it seems like barely half that. You reluctantly hand his jacket back, feeling the warmth linger on your skin. "Thank you," you say, genuinely grateful and a bit sad to see the night end.
"Anytime," he replies with a soft smile, his eyes lingering on yours for a moment longer than necessary. You bid him goodbye and head into the building, feeling his eyes on you until you enter the lift.
Heeseung puts on his leather jacket, now imbued with hints of your perfume. The scent lingers, a comforting reminder of the night. As he walks back home through the bustling streets, his mind is filled with the events of the evening, a smile playing on his lips. The city lights blur around him, and he can't help but feel that tonight was the start of something truly special.
Just as you had thought, clubbing the night before a school day probably wasn't the smartest idea, but if you were being honest with yourself, you had no regrets. After that night, you felt a noticeable shift in your relationship with Heeseung, and it was definitely a positive one. So many things were left unsaid, but there was no need for words; you both just knew.
It didn't come as much of a surprise when you and Heeseung stopped avoiding each other on campus. In fact, the two of you were practically inseparable, spending every possible moment together. Some might even think you were dating. That wouldn't sound so bad, except for the fact that your reputations were complete oppositesâthe party girl and the goody-two-shoes show-off? Unfortunately, you weren't the only one who thought it was an odd pairing.
"Y/N, what's up with you and the smart aleck?" Yunjin asks as she sits down across from you, joining Sakura and Chaewon in their persistent quest to dig up whatever you might be hiding about Heeseung.
"First off, his name is Heeseung," you sigh, shifting over to make room for Sunghoon, who sits next to you. "And there's absolutely nothing going on."
"Mhm..." Yunjin props her chin on her fingers, clearly not convinced by your half-hearted answer.
"Look, we're just working together on a project and got to know each other. He's actually a decent person, so there's no need for me to push him away. There's nothing more to it," you explain, trying to sound casual.
Sakura squints her eyes, staring intently into your soul like the lie detector she is. You realise you're holding your breath, feeling an unexpected wave of nervousness. Why are you so anxious? It's not like you're lying. When Sakura finally smiles, you silently release a breath of relief, thankful that her smile seems to have debunked the suspicions of the other girls.
"Okay, okay, we'll drop it... for now," Chaewon says, grinning mischievously.
"Speak of the devil," Yunjin says, pointing. You follow her gaze and, lo and behold, thereâs Lee Heeseung with his attention on you and your group of friends. You smile and wave, which he gladly acknowledges, waving back and reminding you of your appointment later to continue working on the song you had to abruptly pause the other day.
As you watch him walk over to his own group of friends not too far away, you can hear his sweet laughter over the noise of the bustling cafeteria. Your body is at the table, reacting to your friends' conversations, but your soul is patently somewhere else, drawn to Heeseung.
"To be honest, he's actually not bad looking," Yunjin says, shrugging her shoulders and bringing up Heeseung again, which catches your attention. "If only he wasn't so annoyingly unlikeable. There's only so far a pretty face can get you." Your friends nod along with Yunjin's statement, and you suck in a quick breath, trying to hide your frustration. It affects you how your friends think of Heeseung, but you feel helpless to change their minds. After all, you've told them he's nothing more than a mere friend.
"Now that guy beside him," Yunjin nods towards the younger-looking boy beside Heeseung, "he could hit me up anytime." You roll your eyes at her usual flirty antics; she never fails to check out any decent-looking guy within her preying vision.
"I believe his name is Jake," Sunghoon pipes up, surprising you since he usually never joins in on your girly talks.
"Jake Sim? As in the famously smart junior from the faculty of health sciences?" Chaewon asks, and Yunjin seems intrigued.
"Yeah, you heard about him, Chaewon?"
"Of course, everyone from HS has heard his name before. He's famous for being the guy who tried to resurrect a rat during his dissection practicum, though it didn't exactly work out," Chaewon explains. You, being from the same faculty, struggle to recall ever hearing about this 'Jake.'
"He WHAT?" Yunjin bursts out laughing as Chaewon shrugs her shoulders. "Honestly, I don't even know. What I do know is, he's a total softie and extremely humble, unlike his best friend."
"I'm glad you and Lee Heeseung aren't what I thought you guys were. It'd be detrimental to your reputation if you were ever involved with him in that way,"
"Thanks for the concern, Yunjin, but I can take care of myself," you reply, standing up with your tray of almost untouched food. You excuse yourself, saying you don't have much of an appetite. Thankfully, your friends don't think much of it. Sunghoon, however, catches the tension lifting your shoulders and can't help but feel like you're hiding more than you let onâmaybe even facts that you yourself aren't fully aware of.
As you walk away, you steal one last glance at Heeseung. He's engrossed in conversation with his friends, but for a brief moment, he looks up and your eyes meet. There's a spark of something unspoken, something that makes your heart race and your mind whirl with possibilities.
A week has passed since that weirdly infuriating conversation with your friends, and during this time, you've done a lot of thinking... like a lot. It bothers you how much their words about Heeseung affected you more than you'd like to admit. It's true that your relationship with him has changed in ways you never expected, but he was nothing more than a friendâfriends who share life-changing secrets, but still, just friends.
I mean, you were just looking out for a good friend, right? It was out of your guilty conscience that you couldn't sit there and listen to your friends talk smack about someone they clearly didn't know two shits about. Your friendship with Heeseung has advanced to something more than just surface-level "heys" and "how's your day?" So, clearly, your friends were wrong for judging him based on stereotypes and rumours... right?
You find yourself running away from the answer you so desperately seek, but all you can think about isâdo Heeseung's friends talk about you that way too? Do they see you as an attention-seeking whore, a chronic people-pleaser, a clubbing maniac with an alcohol addiction? If they do, does he defend you like you did for him?
The answer would be âyesâ, because Heeseung had just as much of a week as you did, with his friends constantly asking about you. Each time, he gave them the same exact answer: "We're just working on a project together." It disturbed him how even people he barely knew felt compelled to ask about you, some going as far as inquiring if you were any good in bed. It saddens him that this is the impression people have of you when he knows you are so much more than just the girl who parties a lot. He wonders if you are aware of the things people say about you, and all he can hope for is that you stay blissfully ignorant of it.
You've been avoiding your friends since that day in the cafeteria, not because of what they said, but because of how you reacted. The intensity of your feelings scared you, and you dread being put in that same predicament again if they inevitably bring up Heeseung.
Your friends didn't sense anything off about your behaviour that day, and you don't blame them. After all, you've been hiding your true feelings from day one; you're far from an open book, and your friends know about as much about you as the strangers you walk past every single day.
However, a week of avoiding your friends did made them question if something went wrong, especially since you were so active around Heeseung but shied away whenever one of them approached you. Their concern grew, but it didn't last long when you showed up at the weekly frat party, best dressed as always.
You couldn't let this setback ruin the reputation you had worked so hard to build and keep, so you decided to suck it up, put on the sluttiest mini dress you owned, and went to work.
The party is in full swing when you arrive, the bass from the speakers vibrating through your body. You make an entrance, turning heads as you stride confidently through the throngs of partygoers. Your friends spot you almost immediately, their expressions a mix of relief and curiosity.
"Y/N! There you are! We were starting to worry," Yunjin calls out, waving you over.
You flash a dazzling smile, pushing away the nervous flutter in your stomach. "Hey, guys! Sorry, I've been a bit busy," you say, trying to keep your tone light and breezy.
Sakura raises an eyebrow, clearly not convinced. "Busy with Heeseung, huh?"
You laugh it off, though the comment hits closer to home than you care to admit. "We've just been working on our project. Nothing more."
The conversation shifts as your friends drag you to the dance floor, the thumping music drowning out any further interrogation. You lose yourself in the rhythm, your body moving to the beat, the worries of the past week melting away under the flashing lights and the haze of alcohol. Yet, even as you dance, you can't help but scan the room for Heeseung even though you know he can never be caught dead at a frat party. It's just become a habit, this unconscious need to know where he is, what he's doing.
Heeseung isnât any better, constantly refreshing his Instagram feed to catch the latest updates on what you were up to. Itâs not difficult, considering you were everywhere on everyoneâs stories. Heeseung scrolls through the endless array of posts, his smile tinged with an emotion he can't quite place. He watches you chugging a glass of beer in Sakura's story, admiring the way you dance on the floor in Jay's, and even feeling a tinge of jealousy at the closeness you had with guys other than himself. Despite the show of carefree revelry, he knows you'd rather be working late into the night on the song you two were supposed to be writing together.
âWhat a life you have, Y/N,â Heeseung mutters to himself, laying back on the fluffy comforter that still carries the faint scent of you from your last visit. He hasnât changed it out, clinging to the lingering trace of your presence, finding an unexpected comfort in it. He wishes you were right there beside him.
He closes his eyes, picturing your laughter filling the room, the way your eyes light up when you're excited about something. He imagines you working together on the song, bouncing ideas off each other, and the comfortable silence that often falls between you when words arenât necessary.
A sigh escapes his lips as he grapples with these feelings, pondering if you feel the same way, if you think about him when you're out with your friends or if he even crosses your mind at all. The thought of you being surrounded by other people, especially guys who don't understand you the way he does, makes him uneasy.
Unlike you, he was fully aware of the tension between you two, a tension that screamed "more than friends." Despite this awareness, he had no immediate plans to act on it. Then again, things don't always go according to plan, do they?
You cannot begin to explain how thankful you are for Heeseung's perfect excuse to bail you out of this messy alcoholic galore. "Chaewon! I have to go!" you shout over the music, pushing your way through the crowd to get to her. "What? Why? It's not even midnight yet!"
"Something went wrong with the project file I'm working on!" Chaewon pouts, clearly disappointed that you can't stay longer. "Can't you stay a little while longer? I think they're popping the expensive bottles soon!"
"I can't, Iâve spent way too much time on it to lose it now!" You feel a pang of guilt for having to come up with yet another lie. Every time you swear to yourself that you won't do it again, but it happens so often that it has just become second nature.
"Sorry!" you say, downing the last of your beer and setting the glass down on the counter beside Chaewon. "You're good, I guess it can't be helped! I'll let the rest know you had to leave earlier, don't worry about it!" You mentally thank the angel that is Kim Chaewon for not questioning you any further. You hurriedly gather your belongings and make your way out of the house.
Youâve walked the halls of Heeseungâs mansion and knocked on the door of his room more times than you could count on one hand. However, this time youâre standing at the head of his door not because you can't wait to bombard him with ideas and song lyrics for your project, but because he simply wanted to hang outâjust the two of you, in his room.
"Hey, you made it," he greets, opening the door. That familiar musky scent washes over you, and you notice how he stands there silently, staring at youâor rather, what youâre wearing.
"I couldn't change on my way here," you blurt out. You didn't really have to, but you find the need to explain yourself to him. You feel so vulnerable under his gaze, and youâre not sure if it's the alcohol kicking in that makes your body heat up or the fact that Heeseung is blatantly checking you out. Maybe it wasnât such a good idea to turn up in front of him, visibly tipsy and wearing the most inappropriate thing you own.
"Come in, Iâll grab something for you to change into," Heeseung says, stepping aside and gesturing for you to close the door after you. You stand awkwardly in the middle of his room, waiting for him to return. In this short time frame, you can feel yourself sobering up in the quietness of his space. You wish you had drunk a bit more so you wouldn't be so hyper-aware of the tension that has conveniently presented itself within these walls.
After what feels like hours, Heeseung returns with a newly-washed hoodie. You recognise it as the one he always lends you when you come over. The hoodie is as much yours as it is his at this point.
"Why are you just standing there like that? Itâs not like itâs your first time here anyway," Heeseung says, throwing himself onto the bed and gesturing for you to sit beside him.Â
You pull the hoodie over your head, feeling the soft fabric envelop you in its familiar warmth. The scent of Heeseung clings to it, making you feel a strange mix of comfort and nervousness. You awkwardly shift next to him, the bed dipping under your combined weight as he chuckles softly, amused at how differently youâre acting in front of him.
You mentally thank Heeseung for his insanely perfect proportions that his hoodie covered all the way down to your thighs, especially as you feel your dress riding up your hips when you sit down.Â
"Seemed like you were having a lot of fun. Didn't really expect you to actually show up," Heeseung says, grabbing the mid-sized soft toy sitting at the edge of his bed and placing it on your lap.
Chuckling, you play with the ears of the teddy bear. "You know damn well Iâd rather be working on that song with you. Though weâre not actually doing anything right now..." Heeseung laughs, clearly satisfied that he knows you so well. It makes him feel special.
"Donât get so cocky now," you smirk, looking at him.
"You think I donât know you missed me so much you took the opportunity to invite me over even though you knew I was out?" You raise an eyebrow, intentionally teasing him. It has become a running joke between the two of you that Heeseung has some sort of infatuation towards you. He texts you over every little thing, and you, being embarrassingly awkward and heavily influenced by your flirtatious lifestyle, make a joke out of it.
Heeseung doesnât deny it, though. Maybe he really does feel some sort of attraction toward you, one thatâs more than merely sexual.
"What were you doing before I came over?" you ask, your curiosity piqued as you play with the teddy bear, moving its limbs in circular motions like a mini b-boy dance routine.
"Thinking," Heeseung replies, staring at you absentmindedly.
"About?"
"You," he says simply.
You turn to face him, a little too quickly for your liking. You don't want to seem shocked or flustered, so you keep your composure. Snickering, you try to play it off as a harmless tease. "Your awful attempts at seduction won't work on me, Heeseung."
"I didn't say it would be easy," he shrugs, casually picking a piece of lint off the sleeve of yourâwell, technically hisâhoodie.
"You're such a flirt. How do the people around you not notice that trait of yours?"
"I'm a pretty convincing actor if I do say so myself," he says, dramatically brushing his fingers through his hair. "Better than you even."
"Puh-lease, even Angelina Jolie has nothing on me," you retort, joining in the act by dramatically flipping your hair in his direction, inadvertently smacking him in the face.
"Why are you here again?"
"Shut up, donât act like you werenât the one begging me to come over."
"Ha! You wish you had that power over me," you say, not realising how close you've gotten to Heeseung during your playful banter. He stares directly into your eyes, and you're not sure if he's being dense or just incredibly bold, but he shows no intention of breaking the eye contact. You lose the unintended battle when the intensity becomes too much as you fold and look away first.
"You're unbearable," you mutter, returning to fiddling with the teddy bear now sprawled gracelessly on your lap.
"I know," Heeseung replies, a smirk playing on his lips. âBut you're right. I did want you here. Itâs just⊠nice having you around, and not having the silence in this house deafen me once in a while.â
His honesty takes you by surprise, and for a moment, you donât know how to respond. "Well, Iâm here now," you say softly, meeting his gaze.
âOkay, but you were the one who willingly showed up at my doorstep, so who's the one begging?â
âAnd you're back to being annoying,â you roll your eyes in mockery.
Heeseung laughs, the sound light and genuine. "Can't help it. Itâs part of my charm."
"How does Jake even tolerate you?" you ask, carelessly name-dropping the Jake that you and your friends talked about the other dayâthe Jake he has never once mentioned to you. You mentally curse yourself the moment you realise your slip-up.
"Oh? How do you know Jake?"Â
"Everyone from HS knows him. He's pretty popular, didnât you know?" You try to play it cool, channelling your inner Angelina Jolie, but your calm demeanour always seems to crumble around Heeseung. Unlike everyone else, Heeseung can read you like a book.
"Mhm..." He raises his eyebrows, smirking, and you know you've been caught. "To be fair, it wasn't me, more like Yunjin and Chaewon," you say, mentally apologising to your friends for throwing them under the bus. The last thing you want is for Lee Heeseung to think that youâre interested in him.
"Sure it was," he says with a benevolent smile, letting you off the hook.Â
"So, what kind of person is Jake?" you ask, trying to shift the conversation and cover your slip-up, after all you're a professional topic changer (or so you think). Heeseung doesn't tease you, sensing your semi-embarrassment at having exposed yourself for talking about him when he isnât around.
"He's basically like the little brother I never had," Heeseung says, and you notice the corners of his lips lift as he talks about Jake. There's a softness in his expression that you hadn't seen before, a genuine affection that seems to light up his face. "He's had my back ever since middle school."
"The two of you must be very close then?" you prompt, curious about the depth of their relationship.
"Yeah... I mean, we do fight here and there, but it was never that serious. That was our friendship: equal parts irritation and cooperation," he trails off, a fondness in his eyes as he speaks. The way he talks about Jake, with such nostalgia and warmth, makes you realise how precious their friendship is to him. You can't help but feel a pang of jealousy, wishing you had someone who spoke about you with the same reverence.
"Which is why it would absolutely break my heart if he finds out I've been lying to him this entire time," he adds, his smile turning tender yet strained.
"You've never told him?" you ask, not wanting to be that person but realising you both are doing the exact same thing to the people you care about. Were you really such horrible people? Is it so wrong to be someone that you're clearly not?
"I couldn't bear to," Heeseung's usual imperious tone vanishes, replaced with a melancholic hint as if heâs on the brink of breaking down. "He looks up to me not just as someone older than him; he told me I was his role model." The tension in his voice is palpable, and you can see the conflict in his eyes. Heeseung's usually confident demeanour falter, revealing a vulnerability that catches you off guard. Heâs always been the one with the answers, the one in control, and seeing him like this stirs something deep within you.
His voice wavers, and you feel the weight of his words. "Now what kind of person would I be if I told him that his role model is actually a delinquent who smokes and drinks his life away, on top of that doing everything behind his parents' backs?" Heeseung shifts his gaze from his fingernails toward you, but this time you donât look awayâyou canât. The Lee Heeseung you knew was confident, arrogant, and sometimes a total douchebag, so to see him so helpless, with pain so evidently present in his speech, completely breaks your heart.
You feel an overwhelming sense of empathy, realising that Heeseung, like you, is struggling with his own contradictions and fears. The façade he maintains is just as fragile as yours, and for the first time, you see him not as the perfect student or the flawless person but as someone who is deeply flawed and painfully human.
"Heeseung," you say softly, your voice trembling with emotion. "Youâre not a bad person. We all have things we regret, things weâre not proud of. But those donât define who we are entirely. Jake looks up to you because he sees something good in you, something worth admiring. Maybe itâs time you start seeing that in yourself too."
Heeseung's eyes soften, and you can see the conflict in them. He wants to believe you, to find solace in your words, but the weight of his guilt and shame holds him back. "It's hard," he admits. "Living up to everyone's expectations. Sometimes I feel like Iâm drowning."
You want him to know he isn't alone, that you relate to him, and that it's okay not to be okay. You try to convey this through your eyes, but this time, heâs the one who looks away first.
"Why do you think I attend all these parties?" you ask, your words heavy with emotion, urging Heeseung to look up at you. "Because you're stressed out about school and it's your stress reliever, isn't it?"
"That's where you're wrong, Heeseung," you reply, noticing the little arch forming on his eyebrows. You let out a giggle. "I club because that's what people expect me to do." You look solemnly at the teddy bear in your arms, as if speaking to it could somehow bring you comfort.
"Expect you to do...?"
"Because the popular girl is supposed to be fun and carefree, the life of every party. She's not supposed to be talking to self-absorbed smart alecs," you turn toward him as you finish your sentence, "because I'm that popular girl."
"Y'know, if my mom and dad saw me in this dress in some shady club downtown, they'd pack me up in a box and ship me off to North Korea," you joke lightly, not wanting the mood to spoil any more than it already has. "And honestly, I think my source of stress actually comes from me clubbing." You shrug it off, making it seem like no big deal. After all, youâre used to pretending to be somebody youâre not.
Heeseung, however, stares at you wistfully, his lips parted in surprise. This entire time he thought clubbing was something you enjoyed, a way to reduce your stress. He believed that the times you'd refuse to party were because you were caught up with submissions or exams. Your words strike him deeply, and it hurts him to think that you have to hear and endure the shit that comes out of peopleâs mouths about you that isnât really⊠well, you.
"Your friends know about it?" Heeseung asks cautiously, aware of how close you and your friends are. Heâs taken aback when you shamefully shake your head, your gaze fixed on the bear in your lap.
"Just like you, I couldn't bear to tell them. They'd be disappointed. Chaewon especially would beat herself up for not noticing," your voice is barely above a whisper, but in the silence of his room, itâs all he can hear. He feels the weight of your confession, the awkwardness overflowing the edges of the room. Not wanting to push it any further, you put on the smile youâve perfected over the years.
Heeseung's expression softens, understanding dawning in his eyes. He reaches out, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder. "But youâre so much more than that," he says quietly. "You donât have to be what everyone expects. You can just be you."
"I'm not trying to get your attention or sound pitiful. I just want you to know that you're not alone in this, Heeseung. I know how it feels to be helpless, thinking that the only way around it is to make up more lies to cover up the ones you've already told," you say, your gaze locking firmly onto his. Neither of you is willing to look away.
âWe all feel like that at times. But you have people who care about you, who see the real you, even when you canât see it yourself. And Jakeâif he truly admires you, heâll understand. Heâll still look up to you, maybe even more so for your honesty.â Heeseung nods slowly, absorbing your words. The vulnerability in his eyes makes your heart ache, and you wish you could take away his pain. âAnd it doesn't have to be now or tomorrow that we come clean about it. Hell, it might never even happen. So, don't blame yourself for it. If you do, you have to blame me too..."
You notice his face inching closer with every word that escapes your now quivering lips. Youâre not sure whether heâs doing it intentionally or if heâs so deep in thought that he doesnât realise your noses are touching, your lips just inches apart.
"Y-you don't have to tell Jake about it if you don't want to. I just wanted you to know that," your voice is breathless, probably inaudible if Heeseung wasnât literally in your face. "So now that I know that you know that I know..." your train of thought derails with the distraction at hand. You bring your hand up to his chest in an attempt to wake him from whatever daze you think heâs in.
"I wouldnât have to worryâ"
Heâs in no daze.
In the short one-and-a-half months that youâve known this man, heâs reached into the deepest parts of your soul and connected them with his own, all before you even knew what his hands felt like. Despite what the majority say, despite everyone insisting that the two of you donât belong together, youâre sitting here, body to body, chest to chest, hands in his, his hands on yours, and it feels so right.
So right that somehow, against all the wrongs youâve been writing, youâre kissing him. You close your eyes, slowly drowning out the world around you; all the noise, the expectations, all the lies fade into white noise. In this moment, itâs just the two of you, raw and vulnerable.
You relish the familiar scent of teakwood and the fragrant floral scent of his laundry detergent. You also pick up the tangy smell of cigarettes lingering on his body, all of which drive you completely crazy.
The intensity of his kiss is indescribable, almost as if all the paths in the world have led to this very moment, and no matter how hard you or Heeseung try to stray away from it, youâll always find your way back. He tugs on your arm, pulling you closer until you nearly fall onto his lap. He holds you so tightly, as if afraid you might run off. The sense of desperation he exudes is almost hungry, and you show him just how hungry you are for him too.
His arms slide around your waist, pulling you even closer. You swing your legs over him so that you are now straddling him, your arms running up his chest and around the back of his neck, your fingers tangling in his hair. Your lips move in unison, in a rhythmic silence that only the two of you can hear, speaking a language that only your souls understand.
There is a connection between you two that is so strong and priceless that the universe refuses to keep you apart. Heeseung moves back from your lips, but only far enough to catch a glimpse of your eyes, which remind him of the glow-in-the-dark stars plastered on the ceiling of his room in an unfathomable mural.
"You're so beautiful," he breathes out, his voice barely above a whisper. Your eyes flicker between his darkened gaze and his lips, now swollen from your bites. To Heeseung, describing you as beautiful feels like an understatement. Everything about you is so foreign to him, yet so familiar. Maybe itâs the stories youâve shared, the hurt, the longing for freedom that instigates that sense of familiarity.
He presses his lips back onto yours, attempting to tip your head back. You gasp as you feel him trailing feather-light kisses down your neck and onto your collarbone. The sensation is so new and out of this world that it sends shivers down your spine. You cup your hands around his face, pushing him away gently so that he is face-to-face with you again. Your eyes meet, and it's as if your souls catch on fire. With your heart pounding wildly, youâre sure Heeseung can hear it. Your suspicions are confirmed when he flashes you a teasing smirk.
"Excited now, aren't we, Y/N?" The tips of your ears heat up, and you can only imagine how red they must be. You push your finger into the centre of his forehead, trying to break his piercing gaze and give yourself a moment to regain composure.
"Don't act like you didn't enjoy it yourself," you say, puffing up your cheeks in embarrassment. He shrugs, pulling you into one last embrace before lifting you gently off his lap and setting you back onto the duvet beside him.
"I'll go wash up and then take you home. Wait here, yeah?" He caresses your cheek, and you nod, watching as he stands up and heads towards the bathroom. You lie back, still feeling the warmth of his touch and the intensity of the moment lingering in the air.
You curl up in the comfort of his blankets, replaying the scene that had just taken place over and over again in your head. It only just occurs to you that you and Lee Heeseung had just made out. You place a hand on your chest, feeling the abnormal pattern of your heartbeat and the churning sensation in your stomach; itâs as if a whole zoo has been released inside you.
Exactly like how curiosity killed the cat, you dig relentlessly into the mystery that is Lee Heeseung. You notice that your heart is expanding uncontrollably as you get to know him better. Itâs true that youâve always desired a man to regard you as if you were a miracle, but what you hadnât anticipated was that you would someday come across a man who actually do.
You smile softly, feeling a sense of connection with him that goes beyond the superficial. In this moment, you realise that despite the façades and the lies, you both are just trying to navigate through life, searching for acceptance and understanding. And maybe, just maybe, you can find that in each other.
Bringing the collar of his hoodie up to your nose, you inhale the comforting scent of Heeseung. Youâre so occupied and distracted by everything that has happened tonight that it doesnât even occur to you how physically and mentally exhausted you are. Without any care in the world, you unconsciously fall into a deep slumber, a subtle smile plastered on your lips as you grip tightly onto the sleeves of his hoodie.
On the other hand, washing up is just an excuse for Heeseung to escape the uninvited sexual tension that arose while you were making out. He closes his eyes, and all he can hear are the words of disappointment his father had said to him before. It scares him. Heeseung leans against the door of his bathroom, hands on his chest, feeling the irregular rhythm of his heartbeat.Â
Heâs attracted to you, sure, but falling in love? Itâs out of the question.Â
He takes a deep breath before confidently opening the door, his expression stoic. However, itâs later proved that heâs indeed a bad actor when his eyes soften and a smile unconsciously creeps up his lips as he watches you sleep so carelessly on his bed.
Heeseung sits down gently at the corner of his bed, the fondness in his smile never fading as he listens to the quiet breathing coming from your lips that were so desperately on his just a few minutes ago. He softly brushes a strand of hair aside and tucks it behind your ear, and only then does he notice just how long your eyelashes are.
He scrutinises your face, taking in every little feature he hadnât noticed before, like the mole hidden right under your lip or the faded scar just above your eyebrow. He traces his finger along your jawline but snaps himself out of it when he realises how close he is to your face.
Sighing, Heeseung brushes a hand through his hair as he considers what he should do with you. Not wanting to wake you up, he tucks you in by throwing a blanket over you and slides onto the other side of his bed, making sure he isnât too close to you. He lies on his side, staring at you, with millions of thoughts running through his mind. Only after what feels like hours does he slowly feel sleep catching up to him, not able to hear the sound of a car backing into the front porch of his property.
You awaken from your slumber to the blinding sunlight penetrating your eyelids. You lay on your back, unmoving for a while, staring at the ceiling covered in stars and down at the surroundings until you recognise that this isnât your room.Â
You snap your head to the left and almost scream when you see the sleeping figure of Lee Heeseung, his face only inches away from you. His hand is draped around your waist, and his lips are slightly partedâthose lips. Thatâs right, the same lips that were on your very own the night before. You can barely catch yourself staring compellingly at him when you see his lips move.
"Good morning, sunshine," your eyes flicker up to his, finding them open and staring right back at you. A teasing expression creeps up on his face, and you gulp, knowing damn well that he has caught you in your little act. Something about Heeseung seems different this morningâperhaps it's his demeanour. He does seem more confident for some reason. So, why does he suddenly seem more attractive to you?
You shake your thoughts away as you turn your gaze back to the ceiling. "I thought you were going to take me home. What happened?"
"I was, until you decided to sleep like a roaring pig," he chuckles as he slowly sits up from his lying position. "It was impossible to wake you up." Heeseung teases as he tickles your feet, making you jerk them back, a pout forming on your lips.
"I do not snore," you jokingly sneer at him as you lightly kick him in his shin. Heeseung laughs as he gets off the bed, shivering as the cold air comes into contact with his exposed skin. His morning voice throws you off with how deep it is, and you shiver at the tone of his voice. Heeseung then throws on a hoodie and leaves the room without another word.
Is it just you, or is Heeseung pretending as if nothing happened between you two last night? You feel your heart drop in disappointment, but the feeling quickly subsides when Heeseung returns a few minutes later with clothes in his handâwomen's clothes.
"These belong to my older sis. Pretty sure you're around the same size," he says, handing you a t-shirt and a pair of shorts. You return the gesture with a smile and slowly begin taking off the hoodie youâve been wearing since last night. You instantly notice Heeseung turning shy, his gaze momentarily dipping down before he looks away, pointing at your legs as he does so.Â
You look down, petrified, realising how far up your dress has ridden, exposing your thighs entirely.Â
"Don't look!" you shriek as Heeseung nods and you quickly throw on the clothes he provided over your dress, pleased that they fit just slightly bigger than you.
"Okay, you can look now," your voice is small, clearly embarrassed, but you try to play it cool. Heeseung notices, but he doesnât pick on you for it.
"Hey, look at that, it fits just right," he smiles with a hint of nostalgia, his eyes tracing over the familiar clothing on a body thatâs not so familiar to him.
"I didn't know you had a sister," you say, carelessly folding his hoodie and placing it neatly on the corner of his bed.Â
"Yeah, I don't really talk about her that much," he shrugs, picking up his car keys from his bedside table, signaling that he's ready to go whenever you are.
You slowly descend the staircase leading down into the common room, afraid that someone might hear and realise a stranger is in their house. Out of the many times you have been over, you have luckily never run into anyone other than the friendly old lady who greeted you at the front door.
Trailing behind Heeseung, your eyes wander everywhere except where you are going. This explains why you donât notice Heeseung stopping in his tracks, and you clumsily bump into him. "You can't just stop in the middle of the halls," you grumble, peeking out from behind his shoulders to give him a big scolding. However, your intended reprimand is cut short when you see the reason for his sudden halt: an older man who bears a striking resemblance to Heeseung.
"Lee Heeseung, where are you going?" the manâs voice carries an assertive tone, his haughty demeanour sending shivers down your spine. His mere presence changes the mood in the usually silent house. He looks over at you, scrutinising you from head to toe, and then scoffs, giving you a look of disapproval as if you were caught committing a crime. In that moment, you mentally thank Heeseung for offering you a change of clothes.
Heeseung must notice how uncomfortable you feel under the manâs gaze. He pulls you behind him and shoots the man a glare of his own. "I'm just stepping out for a moment," he says, his usual snarky tone replaced with a nervous one.
"It's been a while since you've had someone over, hasn't it? Why don't you invite your little friend here to stay for some breakfast?" the man suggests with a smile that hides a hint of sarcasm. Who the hell does he think he is to talk to Heeseung like that?
"That won't be necessary, Father," Heeseung replies firmly.
Well fuck, you think, your eyes widening momentarily before you manage to withdraw the confused expression from your face. "Nice to meet you, Mr. Lee," you greet with a bow, trying to sound as calm as possible despite your pounding heartbeat. He barely acknowledges you, responding with a dismissive blink.
"I insist," Mr. Lee speaks with authority, making it clear that this is not a suggestion but a command. Heeseung is about to refute when you quickly interject, "I would love to.
As you make the long journey through the halls to the kitchen, you walk beside Heeseung with your head hanging low. Suddenly, you feel a vibration coming from your back pocket.
He nudges you softly, and you smile. That smile alone reassures Heeseung that everything will be okay because you are right beside him. The simple gesture, so intimate and sincere, calms the turmoil within him.
You sit next to Heeseung at the table, with his father situated across from him. The atmosphere is suffocating, making you feel queasy despite the lavish breakfast spread before you. Itâs not just the tension in the air; itâs something about Mr. Leeâsomething ominous despite his composed demeanour. His presence dominates the room, casting a shadow over the entire meal.
"Eat," Mr. Lee commands, and Heeseung immediately picks up his utensils, stuffing food into his mouth with a mechanical precision. Despite your lack of appetite, you follow suit and start eating, the food tasting like sawdust in your mouth. You try to focus on the act of eating, but the knot in your stomach tightens with every bite.
"I didn't manage to catch your name, girl," Mr. Lee says, his voice dripping with condescension. You look up at him, noticing how even the way he eats is posh and lavish. His every movement exudes an air of superiority, making you feel small and out of place.
"It's Y/L/N Y/N, sir," you respond, your voice barely above a whisper. You hope the trembling in your hands isnât too obvious as you place your fork down.
"Y/N, don't mind me asking," he continues, taking an elegant bite of scrambled eggs, swallowing, and then wiping his mouth with a handkerchief that probably costs more than the dress youâre wearing underneath. The dress, now drenched in sweat, clings uncomfortably to your skin. "Are you and my son dating by any chance?"
You nearly spit out your coffee, choking on the hot liquid. Youâve just met the man, and heâs already interrogating you, his eyes piercing through your façade. You resist the urge to scoff in his face, reminding yourself that youâre here to keep Heeseung out of trouble, not get him into more. "Sirâ"
"We're just friends," Heeseung cuts you off hastily, his voice carrying a slight edge of desperation. You snap your head to look at him, his face a mix of determination and anxiety. Itâs not like heâs lying; heâs practically saying what you were planning to. But why do those words leave you feeling so hollow, so disappointed? You try to decipher the look in his eyes, wondering if he feels the same sting of regret.
Yeah, you guys are friendsâclose friends even! So close that they kiss, make out, and sleep together. The memory of his lips on yours, the way his hands held you so tightly, flashes in your mind. The intimacy of the previous night now feels like a distant dream, overshadowed by the cold reality of Mr. Leeâs scrutiny.
"R-right, we're just friends. There's nothing to worry about," you stutter, still unsure of what you feel at that moment.
"Good," Mr. Lee smiles in satisfaction, his gaze cutting through you. "So, what brings you over so early on a Saturday morning?" His words are a thinly veiled attempt to humiliate you further, but you swallow your pride and respond calmly.
"Did Heeseung not tell you? Weâre working on a project together," you say, trying to sound casual.
"Oh? What project, if you do not mind me asking?" Mr. Lee's voice is smooth, but his eyes remain cold and calculating.
"It's for a research project for a psychology presentation," Heeseung interjects quickly, cutting you off before you can respond. âNot like you care what I do in school anywayâŠâ Heeseungâs voice is bitter, and you get the memo that his father probably doesn't know about him taking extra classes on music production over the weekends.
Mr. Lee clears his throat pointedly, a psychological tactic to reassert his dominance. You notice how Heeseung flinches, a small, involuntary movement that breaks your heart. The poor boy is scared shitless, and it infuriates you to think about how much emotional abuse he must have endured to flinch over a mere cough.
"I take it that you're in the same classes as my son?"
"That's right, I'm a senior majoring in psychology."
"If you're ever in a pinch looking for a job after graduating, there's an attachment program in my hospital just for fresh graduates like you, with no experience and connections," Mr. Lee comments. You know the intentions behind his words are far from genuine as you see the distinct flicker of power play in his eyes. And despite the jab affecting you more than you expected, you resist the urge to lash out.
In fact, you laugh in the face of humiliation. You won't show this self-conceited, power-tripping asshole that his words offended you because that would just be giving him what he was looking forâsubmission to power.
Mr. Lee seems to find it amusing that you aren't shivering in his presence, and that irritates him. "Well, do enlighten me about this research my son was talking about, Y/N." His striking gaze feels like itâs shooting lasers through you, and you'd be lying if you said you weren't scared. For fuckâs sake, you literally just found out about this apparent research project you were supposedly working on, and he wants you to 'enlighten' him?
But come to think about it, It's okay to be scared. It just means you're about to do something really, really brave.
"I would be more than happy to. Our area of research focuses mainly on coercive human behaviours," you smile at him, noticing a slight twitch in his eyes.
"Oh, is that so? What have you learnt so far?" Mr. Lee raises his eyebrows, feigning interest.
"That being a control freak is a weakness, not a strength," you start, noticing his facial expression hardening. "A famous psychologist once said, 'If you can't allow others to shine, you're exhibiting signs of narcissism and showing a lack of self-confidence.'"
"I personally think it's just isolation through ego," you shrug, turning to look at Heeseung. His eyes, which lost their sparkle ever since his father showed up, look at you with so much fondness and admiration that you swear you see the entire galaxy in them.
"I think that's all the time I have for today. Excuse me, for I am a busy man," Mr. Lee stands up from his seat a little too aggressively, and for the first time since you met him, he falters.
"Thank you for the wonderful meal, Mr. Lee," you calmly stand from your seat, reaching out your hand to him. He reluctantly takes it in his own, forcing a smile that almost makes you burst out in laughter.
"Thank you for the wonderful company and insightful conversation, Y/N."
"The pleasure is all mine," you reply, maintaining your composure even as he exits the room.
#3 - The Paradox
You sprawl over in your own bed, tangling up in your blanket as you recall the events of that Saturday morning. You must've been crazy, drugged even, to have had that much courage to stand up to his father like that. You, who couldn't even say 'no' to your own friends, lost your temper over something like that? It must've been a fever dream.
Except it wasn't, and you lie there in disbelief, cursing yourself for making such a bold decision. Maybe Heeseung was rightâyou really were an idiot. You think back about what made you so angry and every conclusion leads to one thing (or person, actually): Lee Heeseung.
You can't bear to see him so helpless and afraid in front of someone who is supposed to be his father. Someone who literally gave life to him was making him feel like he couldn't even be safe at home. It angers you and, thus, scares you because you care about him more than you ever realised. Because caring about someone means being vulnerable, and you've never been good at that.
You tell yourself that it didn't have to be Heeseungâthat for anybody else in that same predicament, you would have acted and felt the same. You convince yourself that what happened was your guilty conscience talking, your sense of justice prevailing, or literally anything that fits the narrative. You fail to consider that, hey, maybe you do have a soft spot for him.
Sure, you care about the boy since he is someone you can lean on and be yourself around. So why does every thought about him lead back to you on his lap, hands on his chest, and his lips on your own?
Your fingers absentmindedly reach up, landing on your lips as you fondle them. You notice how chapped they are and mentally cringe at the possibility that they were in this condition when you and Heeseung made out.
There it is againâthe sound of your heartbeat pounding vigorously against your chest. It was just a kiss. You've had plenty of those, so why is it that when it comes to Heeseung, you can't seem to get rid of that churning feeling in your stomach?
That feeling scares you. So, you avoid him.
Heeseung has texted you multiple times over the past few days, asking if you wanted to come over to continue with your project. You've exhausted almost every excuse possible to avoid doing so. Partially because you don't want to risk running into his father again, but mainly because you're running away from your feelingsâfeelings that you are already subconsciously aware of, just buried deep within you.
Each excuse you send feels more feeble than the last. "Got a lot of homework." "Feeling under the weather." "Have to help Chaewon with something." You know Heeseung isn't buying it, but he doesn't push. Each time, he responds with understanding, though you can almost sense the disappointment in his texts.
Every time your phone buzzes with a new message from him, your heart skips a beat. You canât help but read his messages over and over, your mind replaying the scene in his room. You remember how his eyes softened when he looked at you, how his touch sent shivers down your spine.
The more you think about it, the more you realise that avoiding him isn't going to make these feelings disappear. It's not going to make your heart stop racing or your stomach stop fluttering. You can't keep pretending that what happened didn't matter.
I made a little room in my heart. You, who I can't forget, is standing there. I open that door, so that your voice that I long for calls me...
"Y/L/N Y/N!" The familiar voice jolts you back to reality, followed by a series of knocks at your front door. You frown, not expecting any visitors on a weekday evening. As far as you know, only Chaewon, Yunjin, Sakura, and your parents know where you live.
Dragging your feet to the door, you check the mini tablet and see Lee Heeseung standing on the other side. What the fuck? It comes back to you that Heeseung has walked you home plenty of times, some days even to your front door after you insisted that he didn't need to.
You mentally panic as you scrutinise your appearance in the full-length mirror by the door, grimacing at your musty attire and the messy bun your hair is tied up in. You look... awake at best.
"Y/N? I swear to God I heard something." Heeseung's voice echoes through the intercom, and the panicky feeling settles in even more. You think to yourself that he came all the way here to see you; you can't possibly leave him stranded outside like that. After another knock on your door, you give in, unlocking it and coming face-to-face with the very man you've been avoiding all week.
"About time," Heeseung smirks, catching a view of you in all your glory. You roll your eyes and step aside to let him into your humble abode.
"What are you doing here?" you ask, trying to sound nonchalant.
"To see you," he shrugs, as you look away, blushing. Not that it mattered anyway, since Heeseung is concentrating on taking his shoes off carefully to avoid creasing them.
"We see each other in school. You didn't have to come all the way here," you say, eyebrows raised, still unsure of his true motives. It wasn't unusual for you and Heeseung to be together in an enclosed space, just the two of you, but something feels different than before. An atmosphere that only started presenting itself after your shared kiss the other day.
"Yeah, but not when you're literally avoiding me," he replies, squinting his eyes at you. You mentally face-palm, realising he already knew what you were doing.
"I was not!"
"Sure, princess, anything you say." Your heart skips a beat at his new nickname for you, and you almost overlook the slight hint of sarcasm in his voice. "Though I would believe otherwise when you literally looked at me and turned the other way that day in the cafeteria."
"I didn't even see you... besides, I was rushing off to run an errand somewhere," you lie, though your alibi isn't solid enough to justify it. "So, you do remember what happened." He leans in close to you with a cheeky smile that you hadn't realised you missed over the few days you hadn't seen him.
"Gosh, you're intolerable," you mutter, putting a reasonable distance between Heeseung and yourself as you brisk-walk timidly over to your sofa.
"I know, you've told me that twenty-three times now," he says, genuinely surprising you that he was even keeping count of the things you say to him. Heeseung thinks to himself if he was always this attentive to detail or if it was just because of you.
You sit down on the sofa, fidgeting with the hem of your shirt, trying to steady your racing thoughts. Heeseung follows, sitting beside you, his presence both comforting and nerve-wracking.
"Though I'm really here to see you, I would also like to remind you that there's a project of some sort due in two weeks," Heeseung smirks, and you playfully roll your eyes.
"I would have you know that I did not forget, which is why I've been working on the melody in my own free time. In fact, I was even singing it right before you so abruptly barged into my apartment."
"Barged?" Heeseung scoffs, picking up a pillow and throwing it at you, purposely aiming higher so it'd fly over your head. You laugh, feeling a warm sensation spreading from your chest to the rest of your body.
"Okay, rockstar, then show me what you got." He passes you a half-filled water bottle, presumably for you to use as a microphone. Heeseung wants you to sing, right now, in front of him?
"Hell no."
"Oh, come on, you do know we have to actually record it, right? I'll hear you sing sooner or later," he tries to convince you. To be honest, you still aren't very confident. You aren't tone-deaf, thankfully, but definitely not the best singer out there. The only other person you've ever sung to was your grandmother, and that was when you were ten years old.
"Fine," you huff. "You're not allowed to laugh though."
Heeseung cackles and nods to reassure you, which doesn't really help, but it's the intention that counts. You close your eyes and begin singing the lyrics to one of the verses you wrote the other day.
In this unstable world, when there was no place to stand. It held me from somewhere, that invisible touch. Once again I want your warm embrace, I'll go and find you...
The words flow out, surprisingly smoothly, the melody carrying them effortlessly. You lose yourself in the song for a moment, forgetting Heeseung is even there.Â
Heeseung once again finds all his senses bewitched by you; his eyes wander over your features as you sing, his nose drowning in the homely scent of you, and his ears captivated by the melancholic tone in your voice. He hears you sing for the first time, and it's almost angelic. As you had said, you're not the best singer, but that distinct sharpness in your voice makes it impossible for Heeseung to get it off his mind.
Heeseung finds himself reaching his hand out to you, unable to resist your magnetic pull as he you finish off the next line.
Your warm breath, dazzling smile. When I close my eyes, I feel you, I believe you...
You feel a warm touch rest upon your cheeks, and instinctively lean into it, seeking the comforting warmth in the approaching winter. Your eyes flutter open, wincing at the sudden waves of bright light that blur your vision. Gradually, as your sight clears, it focuses on one person alone, eclipsing everything else around you. Before you sits a masterpiece, captivating your attention entirely.
Heeseung finds himself ensnared in the stars of your eyes, momentarily delirious as he glimpses a whole other galaxy within themâa black hole drawing him closer to you. Then, amidst the cosmic symphony, he hears itâthe mingling of your heartbeat with his own. His heart, accustomed to beating for himself, now beats for someone else, and it only takes a mere millisecond for him to realise he has fallen in love with you.
It also takes a mere millisecond for the image of his father to intrude upon his thoughts.Â
Heeseung insisted on driving you back to your apartment that day, but you were adamant about him staying. You didn't want him to get into any more trouble because of you. However, it never occurred to you that he might just have wanted to leave with you just to escape his father's presence.
As you bid him goodbye and walked off his front porch, his father's voice echoed from behind Heeseung in a low whisper, "Cut off contact after this project of yours. Don't disappoint me, son."
Heeseung withdrew his hand from your face in a panic, and you, seeking the warmth you had just lost, leaned forward in a futile attempt to recapture it.
"Hey, what's wrong?" you ask, concern lacing your voice as you notice tears streaming down Heeseung's face. He frantically hides his face in the sleeves of his sweater, seemingly trying to shield his vulnerability from you as he does not want you worrying.Â
Rightfully so, because you are worried. The last thing you expect when Heeseung shows up at your doorstep is to see him cry. Hell, you didnât even know he had the ability to shed tears. Part of you wonders if you're somehow the cause of his tears, stirring up feelings of guilt within you.
"Was my singing so horrible that you burst into tears, Heeseung?" you try to lighten the mood with a joke, hoping to bring some comfort to the situation. You're relieved to hear a faint snort from behind his sweater paws, indicating that your attempt at humor isn't entirely lost on him. Still, you can't shake off the concern gnawing at you.
Instinctively, you reach out and grasp his wrist, delicately shifting aside his sweater to expose his tear-streaked face. His eyes are swollen, and his nose is red, the sight pulling at your heartstrings to witness him in such visible distress. "Didn't know you were such a crybaby," you say lightly, hoping to lighten the mood even more as you brush away a fresh tear that teeters on the edge of his cheek.
"You look like my bestie Rudolph!" you tease, lightly poking his nose. He scrunches it up, his lips forming a pout as he watches you caress his face, a hint of a smile breaking through his sadness.
"One might think you actually care for me," Heeseung murmurs, voicing his thoughts. Youâre taken aback, the question echoing in your mind, both heart and mind answering: yes.
"If you know that already, then don't ever cry like this in front of me again," you say gently, your thumb tracing soothing circles on his cheeks. Your eyes search his face for any sign that he wants you to stop, but you find none. Instead, Heeseung leans in and plants a chaste peck on your lips, catching you by surprise. The warmth of his lips lingers, mingling with the salty taste of his tears. You purse your lips and cringe slightly, lightheartedly pushing him away as he laughs, the sound like music to your ears.
Heeseung, feeling an urgent need to be closer to you, grabs your legs and places them across his lap, positioning you to face him. The sudden movement startles you, but you quickly settle, bending your knees and leaning against them as you stare up at him. From this angle, you notice the sharpness of his nose, the slight stubble on his chin, and the way his eyes, now clear of tears, hold a depth of emotion that tugs at your heartstrings.
As you study his features, youâre overwhelmed by a rush of feelings. The boy who always seemed so strong and composed now looks at you with such raw vulnerability that it breaks and mends your heart simultaneously. Heeseungâs gaze is equally intense, his eyes exploring your face as if memorising every detail. He seems entranced, lost in your siren eyes as though heâs seeing you for the first time.
"Will you tell me why you suddenly cried now?" you ask softly, concern lacing your voice. A brief silence falls between you as Heeseung contemplates whether to come clean. You wait patiently, playing with the ring on his pinky finger, not wanting to push his boundaries if he isnât ready to speak.
"Remember how I told you I have an older sister?" Heeseung begins, his gaze drifting past your eyes into a sea of nothingness. "Her name is Lee Hae-yi."
Heeseung giggles as he recalls details about his sister, and you look at him fondly. "She takes after our mother a lot. It's something I've always been envious of. Hae-yi, she's incredible. We had many similar interests growing up, and she was somehow always better than me at everything we did. She's my biggest role model. I'd give the entire world for her to be happy." His face brightens at the mention of his sister, and you find yourself envious of the sibling bond he has with her, wishing you had a sibling of your own.
"My father wants me to take over the company when he retires, but sheâs the one that deserves it, not me. I have no intention of running the company, but he's very adamant about me being the one to do it." Heeseung sighs, tightening his grip on your hand. "Even though the entire family can see that my sister is the natural-born leaderâitâs the only quality she takes after my father. But he refuses to leave it in her hands. He says a woman can never hold leadership positions or other misogynistic bullshit. So, my father sent her away to the States, told her to study there and someday prove herself to him."
"He was never going to give her a chance in the first place, and she knew it, but she went anyway..." Heeseung pauses, and your eyes shoot up when you hear him sniffle. "She left because of me. Now I can't go on another day knowing she probably hates me for taking her spot that she worked her entire life for." A lone tear escapes the crevices of his eye, and you reach up to swipe it away, your palm resting on his face as he leans into your warmth.Â
"My father has a reputation to uphold, and I am naturally a part of that reputation. He expects me to be the perfect son, even if it's pretentious. I became the person I am and do the things I do as an act of defiance. I didn't want to feel like he had full control over me," Heeseung smiles solemnly, finally making eye contact with you after fully exposing every detail about himself and his story. It hits you that the things you knew about him were only surface-level problems and that they actually ran much deeper than just Jake.
"Don't you ever just want to stop everything and be free?" you ask foolishly. Heeseung giggles at your innocence, unknowingly breaking your heart a little more.
"Of course I do, but I wonât suffer the consequences alone. To my father, his career comes first, and everything else falls in line after."
"Even family?" you ask, incredulous. Heeseung nods, and your lips part, wanting to say something, but you decide against it and return to listening attentively.
"That man would do anything to defend what's important to him, even if it means hurting his own blood. I can'tâwon'tâallow the people I care about to suffer because of my actions, even if it means playing a pawn in his little game." Heeseung caresses your hand, drawing circles in the centre of your palm. You grin and push the hair covering his eyes away from his face, noting the softness of his hair and the way it falls perfectly even when dishevelled.
"Thank you, Heeseung, for telling me this," you say, your voice filled with sincerity. Although you want to argue that he should fight for his freedom and not live for the sake of others, you can't bring yourself to tell him that, because you are doing the exact same thing.
"No, thank you for listening, Y/N.â
"Well, if running a company isn't your forté, what do you actually want to do?" you ask, hoping to take his mind off his very pressing situation. You watch him closely, noticing the way his expression shifts to one of even deeper regret.
"I think you already have some sort of an idea," he replies, managing a small smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes. "I want to be a singer-songwriter."
"That surprisingly kind of suits you, Mr. Idol," you laugh, reaching out to pinch his cheeks. He puffs them up, making you lose your grip, and you can't help but smile at his playful defiance. Leaning down, he gently pushes you back onto the sofa, his hand supporting the small of your back as he towers over you. Your hair sprawls over the cushion beneath you as you look up at him, your breathing becoming uneven from the sudden closeness.
As you gaze into his eyes, you feel an undeniable connection. Everything the two of you do feels so natural; from the hand-holding to the hugging to the kissing even. It's as if you two are actually dating, but you aren't. It feels almost too perfect, too seamless. That alone feels wrong, how it comes so naturally even though you have no labels.Â
You close your eyes, expecting your lips to meet his again, but instead, you feel his warm lips gently press against your forehead. The unexpected tenderness makes your heart swell, and when your eyes flutter open, you see his own staring back at you with an intensity that takes your breath away. He gazes at you as if you are the most precious thing in the world, and it sends shivers down your spine.
You giggle softly as he snuggles into your neck, his hand wrapping around your waist protectively. You make space for him on the couch, allowing him to fit perfectly beside you. With your face buried in his chest, his chin resting on top of your head, and his arms wrapped securely around your small frame, you feel a profound sense of peace wash over you. His warmth seeps into your skin, and for the first time in what feels like forever, you finally feel safe.
One question constantly replays itself in your mind as you slowly drift off into a deep slumber. The steady rhythm of his heartbeat against your ear is both soothing and grounding. In the hushed quiet of the room, you whisper, "What are we?"
The question hangs in the air, laden with all the emotions and uncertainties you've been grappling with. You feel his arms tighten around you, a silent promise of protection and something more. As you drift into sleep, the thought lingers, a beacon of hope and a source of fear all at once.
That morning, as you gradually awaken to the muted light filtering through your window, you're met with an emptiness beside you that's both physical and emotional. The warmth lingering in the vacant space beside you feels like a cruel reminder of Heeseung's absence, and it weighs heavily on your heart. The realisation that he left without a word of farewell hits you like a punch to the gut, leaving you disheartened and bewildered.
Before you have a chance to fully process his departure, the bright rays of the morning sun illuminate your living room, casting warm hues across the space. The sudden awareness of the time jolts you into action, and you curse under your breath at the realisation that you're running late for class.
"Curse you, Lee Heeseung," you groan, quickly ripping the blanket covering your body away and scrambling to your feet, feeling lightheaded from the sudden movement.
"Good morning, sunshine," your head instantly whips around at the familiar voice you were longing for just a few seconds again, momentarily taken aback before relief floods your senses.Â
"I thought you left," you murmur, the words tinged with a mixture of hurt and longing, though you try to keep your tone neutral. He smirks, sensing the disappointment in your voice. Oh, how you wish you could rip that sweet sweet smile off his face..
"Why? Were you disappointed because you thought I left?" Heeseung's teasing tone irks you, stirring up a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. His smirk only serves to deepen your irritation, fueling a desire to push back against his playful demeanour.
"Jerk," you grumble and Heeseung laughs, finding your sulking expression adorable.
"Who's the crybaby now, huh?" Heeseung's playful jab catches you off guard, eliciting a scoff as you feign nonchalance.
"I'm not even crying, idiot," you retort, a mixture of amusement and exasperation colouring your words as you shoot him a playful glare. Heeseung giggles and carefully pulls you into a warm embrace, as if youâre a piece of fragile glass, afraid that even the slightest pressure might make you crumble.
Itâs officialâYou and Heeseung are in a situationship. If someone were to ask you how it feels to have something you wanted so badly just within reach yet still fail to grasp it, you'd tell them it feels absolutely shitty.
It bothers you how he doesn't seem to mind that your relationship has no label, yet he still initiates things that only couples do. You're conflicted; your heart tells you one thing, but your mind tells you another, and you can't seem to decide which feeling to follow. The only thing you're certain of is that you want to be by his side.
It's a tangled web of emotions, one that Heeseung and you are both ensnared in. He knows it's complicated. He'd be a liar if he said he didn't want to be with you, close to you. But that courage to stand up against his father seems to evade him every time he tries to grasp it. Every time Heeseung closes his eyes, attempting to convince himself to fight for what he wants, his father's image intrudes his thoughts, and heâs back at square one all over again. Itâs an endless cycle he canât break out of. So, instead of making promises he knows damn well he canât keep, he keeps you close to him under the guise of a research project that is only going to last a mere week.
As promised to his father, after one week, you'll be gone from his life, and vice versa. It's for the best, or at least that's what Heeseung has convinced himself of, that one week is all he needs to psycho himself into believing he doesn't need you; like the two of you never even met.
Except you did, and now you know each other's deepest, darkest secrets. But he knows you wouldnât tell a soul, and likewise for himself. Then again, Heeseung is making all these decisions on his own, assuming that youâd be perfectly okay with it when the time comes around.
The ambiguity of your relationship with Heeseung leaves you grappling with questions that have no easy answers. As you try to make sense of it all, you can't help but wonder if he's aware of the turmoil brewing within you.
It's a silent struggle, one that you keep hidden beneath a façade of normalcy. It's almost funny how when you thought he didn't stay, you were hurt; when you realised he didn't actually leave, you were still hurt because you knew deep down that you couldn't hold onto him forever. Yet, amidst the confusion, there's a glimmer of hope, a fleeting sense of connection that keeps drawing you back to him, despite the looming deadline that threatens to tear you apart.
Saturday arrives, and for once, you find yourself declining your friends' invitation to attend the weekly parties. They're disappointed sure, but you reassure yourself that missing one party won't be detrimental to anyone. Chaewon did notice your frequent moments of distraction and introspection, behaviours she's never observed in you before. You brush off her concerns, attributing your preoccupation to stress over upcoming projects and submission deadlines. After all, it's your final semester.
Sunghoon also picks up on your behavioural changes, especially when you're around Heeseung. To him, you appear shy, like a kindergarten kid experiencing their first crush. However, he knows you well enough to anticipate that you'd argue otherwise if he were to express his observations.
Meanwhile, you find yourself spending most of your time in Heeseung's bedroom, working on a song that holds no academic value. You vaguely remember how you were dreading even thinking about this project and just wanting to get it over with, hell, you were even willing to turn in a nursery rhyme if the situation calls for it. With that thought, you chuckle to yourself as you sit in your usual spot on Heeseungâs bed, enveloped in the familiar scent of Teakwood and cigarettes lingering in the sweater that embraced you.
"Thoughts about singing the last chorus together?" Heeseung skillfully tucks the pencil he was just using behind his ear as he swivels around on his chair from his table to face you.Â
"You sure about that? I'm afraid I might outshine you." You comically brush your loose hair and shoot him a smirk, prompting him to jokingly roll his eyes back at you. "Is that so, Ms. Mariah Carey?"
"On a serious note, I really think singing the last chorus makes the song sound, I don't know... more desperate?"
"I see your point. Though I would hate to ruin the climax of the song with my horrendous singing, if Mr. Future K-pop Star says so, I have to do it." You smirk again when Heeseung scoffs before breaking out into small fits of laughterâlaughter that sounds like music to your ears. "I can't take you seriously." He swivels back to face the computer displaying the music editing software. Your song is in its final stages of production before you and Heeseung can go ahead and record the demo, and it's one demo away before Heeseung has to completely cut you out of his life as promised.
The mere thought of letting go fills his heart with unease and uncertainty, crossing his mind during the day or even right before he falls asleep. Every fibre of his being resists the notion of parting ways, as if holding on tighter could somehow freeze time and preserve the precious connection you share.
In the quiet depths of his heart, Heeseung finds himself surreptitiously gazing at you, consumed by an overwhelming affection while struggling with the bittersweet truth that letting go may be an inevitable choice, but one he's not yet ready to make.
The universe is a paradox. Some might believe that even though a person eventually dies, your relationship with them doesn't, as it will live on forever, never changing. However, the truth about forever? It doesn't exist. Nothing lasts forever. Not you, your feelings, your relationships, the sun, the moon, or even the galaxies. Although forever has no meaning when one is living in the moment, and you, for one, aren't ready for that moment to end.
At the end of the day, the absolute truth is that all this shit about 'nothing lasts forever' is just an excuse for both of your lack of courage and commitment because those who truly want to be together find a way to make it happen.
In an inconspicuous outbuilding situated in the family's backyard, the hallways are unusually clean yet dark. Heeseung explains that the building is being used as sleeping quarters for the housemaids, which explains the customised doors that line the halls. He also mentions it's the only part of the house where he could actually build a recording studio without his father finding out.
You step into the recording booth, the air humming with anticipation as the padded walls cocoon you in a world of sound. With a pair of headphones hugging your ears, you feel the rhythm pulsate through your veins, while the microphone stands tall, poised to capture every nuance of your voice. The word 'nervous' is more than an understatement for what you're feeling at the moment as you watch Heeseung's every move on the other side of the tempered glass. It's endearing to say the least, watching the boy thrive in his element, right where he belongs.
You jump a little as you hear his voice coming out from the speakers in the booth, "You ready?" You find Heeseung looking at you with confidence, maybe more than you have for yourself. You feel the pressure, and Heeseung knows that the only thing he can do is show you that he believes in you. Heeseung is right because something about his unspoken trust assures you, even gives you that little boost of self-confidence you need as you sing your lines in the first verse.
Tears filled with regrets flow unconsciously. I wish I could follow to wherever and flow somewhere. In that warm sunlight, I want to let myself go, so that I can meet you...
Almost on instinct, Heeseung leans in, captivated by every word that leaves your lips, his gaze fixed upon you as your melodic voice fills the room. Every note, every accentuation, every lyric, is delicately captured by his ears as if he's savouring a rare delicacy.
At that moment, the world around him fades into a distant murmur, leaving only the desperate purity of your singing. He listens not only with his ears but with his heart, appreciating the beauty of your voice and the story it conveys. His face reflects a mixture of awe and admiration, mirroring the emotions woven into each line you sing.Â
The room is filled with an unspoken connection, a shared language that transcends words. In this tender exchange of sound, Heeseung embraces your vulnerability, your strength, and the extraordinary power you have over him.
You're one star, that's your name
You finish off the last line of the song before realising you had your eyes closed the entire time. Turning to look at Heeseung, who has an unfathomable expression on his face, you know singing wasn't your forte, but it couldn't have been so bad to the point he looked like he was about to cry. "So... did I do okay?" The sound of your voice brings Heeseung back from whatever futile thoughts he had running through his head, focusing on the presentâon you.
"You were amazing, princess," Heeseung says, and you blush upon hearing the nickname he gave you. Although it isn't the first time, you still feel light-headed whenever he uses it. "I'll take whatever compliment I can get," you comment, and he smiles lightly to himself, replaying the recording so you can hear it for yourself. Heeseung was right; you weren't half-bad after all.
After re-recording some parts and unwillingly adding in adlibs as per Heeseung's request, this time you find yourself in the producer's seat while Heeseung stands behind the microphone, which he had to readjust to fit his height. It's no surprise that he manages to record everything in such a short period of time with very minimal mistakes. Once again, you catch a glimpse of the Heeseung who can do anything if he puts his heart and mind into it.
This is your first time recording a song, and you're pretty sure it shouldn't be this easy. You were mentally preparing yourself for the insults that he would throw at you. However, considering this is just for a mere ungraded school project, you think maybe that's why Heeseung isn't picking on every little flaw like he would any other project. Then again, the Heeseung you know is a perfectionist, so being able to leave the recording studio unscathed is a mystery for not only you but also Heeseung himself.
"I can't believe we actually finished this song," you remark as you stroll alongside Heeseung in the hallway, a slight spring in your steps. Heeseung grins, carefully matching his pace with yours, still attentively listening to your speech of accomplishment.
"The night is still young. I say we take our celebrations to the party at Sunooâs. You could finally meet my friends so they can stop having this false perception of you. What do you think?" You turn on your heels to face him, half-expecting an excited expression on his face, so you are taken aback when a lone tear falls past his cheek.
"Heeseung-ah..." Without a second thought, you pull him into a tight embrace. "I'm sorry, I said that without thinking. We don't have to go. Let's stay in and watch a movie instead, hm?" Heeseung shakes his head beside you, and you pull away just enough to catch sight of his face. "No, I'm not crying because of that, don't worry."
"Then what is it about?"
"I'm just... happy, that's all."
"You're so precious, you know that?" You hold his face between your cold hands as you stare into his eyes, neither of you willing to look away first. You lean in and gently kiss the freshly escaped teardrop as if the essence of sorrow itself had been distilled into this tiny, tasteable form. "This is the second time I caught you crying, that's twice more than me." He giggles as he gently grabs your hands into the palm of his own. "Let's go."
"Great! I have this movie I really wanted to-"
"No, Y/N, let's go meet your friends."
With a heavy heart and a bittersweet urgency, Heeseung embraces the knowledge that your time together is drawing to a close. The impending separation looms, but he clings to a precious sliver of time, determined to make it count, even if it means sacrificing everything to see you smile one last time.
You give Heeseung the address to Sunooâs place and tell him to meet you in front of his house. Standing outside in your off-shoulder top, you take yet another glance at your watchâ10 minutes past your agreed meeting time. Anxiety creeps in, mingling with the chilly night air, as you wonder if he'll show up or if this was a mistake.
You come to a consensus that you should've known better than to convince Heeseung to go partying with you after everything he did to hide that fact from everyone. Guilt gnaws at you, knowing you may have pushed him out of his comfort zone, and you wouldnât even blame him if he decided to bail on you.
You text Chaewon, asking her where they are so you can go ahead and look for them, but you receive no response. You figure she's probably having too much fun to pay attention to her phone.
Freezing and desperate for a glass of alcohol to numb your nerves, you make your way into the house. Inside, it pulses with energy as vibrant music fills the air, its rhythmic beats reverberating through the packed living room. Colourful lights flash and dance across the room, casting an enchanting glow on the eclectic crowd that has gathered for a night of revelry. The dance floor is a sea of motion, a kaleidoscope of bodies writhing to the infectious tunes, and you make a mental note not to lose yourself in the bustling crowd this evening.
Approaching the open bar, you pour yourself a cup of beer to kick off the night. The cool liquid soothes your parched throat, offering a momentary reprieve from the chaos around you. It's ironic, really, now that you think about it, because no matter how hard you try to escape or manifest excuses out of thin air, you always end up back here with a beer in hand, willingly or not.
As much as you've convinced yourself that you certainly weren't made for the nightlife, you can't deny that you stand out amidst the sea of people. Maybe sometimes, you actually do have fun, more than you'd let yourself believe.
As you take a sip from your cup, you feel a hand on your lower back, causing you to almost jerk forward. "Hey baby, you here alone?" Turning around, you find a young man in a button-up shirt that accentuates his physique. The strong smell of alcohol emanating from him indicates that he's already quite drunk, even though it's barely 8 PM.
"I'm actually here with some friends, thanks for asking," you respond politely, trying to maintain composure despite the uncomfortable situation. However, your patience wears thin as you feel him inching closer. "Can't a lady have her personal space?" you retort, your tone growing irritated as you notice his offensive scrutiny of your attire.
But he brushes off your discomfort, continuing to leer at you. "Come on, don't act like you hate it. You're basically asking for it, I mean look at this dress..." His words trail off as he shamelessly scrutinises your appearance, his hand still firmly planted on your back. Feeling increasingly uneasy, you shift uncomfortably under his gaze, and he takes advantage of your vulnerability by leaning in closer, his breath uncomfortably close to your ear.
You despise how some men automatically assume they're entitled to your attention or affection, simply because of how you're dressed. You know that physically fighting back would likely escalate the situation, especially since he appears much stronger than you. Not wanting to cause a scene in the bar, you consider threatening to call the police as a last resort.
Before you can take action, however, a sudden commotion erupts nearby, and the man is forcibly pulled away from you. Relief washes over you as you realise that someone has intervened, sparing you from further discomfort.
"She has a boyfriend." Your head snaps to the source of the voice, finding Heeseung glaring daggers at the man.
"Heeseung," you call out softly. He turns to you, searching your eyes for any sign of disapproval. When he finds none, he breathes a sigh of relief.
"Should have known it was too good to be true," the man mutters, ruffling his hair in clear frustration. You can't help but laugh, realising you're probably just one of many attempts he's made tonight. Heeseung walks up beside you at the bar, pouring a drink before turning to you.
"Didn't think I'd show up?" he asks, noticing the stunned expression on your face. You nod, still watching him, grateful for his intervention.
"So you're my boyfriend now?" you smirk, taking another sip from your cup to mask the fluttering feeling in your chest. Heeseung laughs, a bit embarrassed, and takes a sip from his own drink.
"Why? You like the sound of that?" he teases.
It's almost comical. You wouldn't take crap from any other man, not even Sunghoon or Jay, but youâd let this man openly tease you about your ongoing situationship. Yet, you willingly succumb yourself to the fluttering feeling in your chest.
"You don't?" you retort boldly. Your response catches Heeseung off guard, and he nearly chokes on his drink. As you laugh at his reaction, you notice a fleeting look of panic and sorrow on his face. The thought that he does like the idea of being your boyfriend crosses his mind, only dampened by the reality that this might be his last chance to be this close to you.
You're about to push the joke even further when a familiar voice calls out. "Y/N!" You turn to see Chaewon and Sakura making their way towards you from the corner where your friends are gathered. Their overjoyed expressions slowly morph into confusion as they notice Heeseung standing beside you.
You wonder why Chaewon and Sakura seem so confusedâitâs not like they didn't know you were hanging around Heeseung. Then, as you really take in his appearance for the first time that night, you realise heâs dressed up for the occasion. Heâs wearing a black graphic tee with a blazer thrown on haphazardly, his hair carefully parted down the centre, and his iconic round glasses are gone, no longer perched on his nose. This is the Lee Heeseung you first noticed at that club all those months back.
It slowly hits you: this is the first time your friends are seeing him outside of his usual nerdy persona.
"Lee?" Chaewon questions, eyebrows furrowed as she wraps her hand around Sakura's arm, nudging her. Heeseung smiles awkwardly and gives you a knowing look, silently asking you to act like you forced him to come (which, technically, you did).
"Chaewon, Sakura. I donât think you two have officially met. This is Lee Heeseung." Chaewon subtly tilts her head, clearly puzzled as to why the academy's top student is at a frat party on a Saturday evening. "I wanted to have some fun after finishing our project, so I dragged him here," you explain hastily, hoping neither of them notices the little white lie.
"Wow, you really dressed him up nicely," Sakura remarks, her backhanded compliment making you roll your eyes as you quietly mouth curses at her.
"Come on, letâs introduce you to the gang," Chaewon cuts in just before the atmosphere turns awkward, and you mentally thank her for being the angel she is.
You sense Heeseung stiffen beside you, so you take his hand to reassure him that your friends are nice. Not that he doubted their kindness; he just doubted theyâd want him there. However, he did say he'd come to meet your friends, so he doesn't resist.
With eager anticipation, you lead him into the heart of your cherished social circle, feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness as your two worlds collide. You can't help but steal glances at Heeseung, who seems to be taking in everything with cautious curiosity. Your friends, too, look intrigued, if not a bit taken aback, by his transformation.
Itâs awkward at first, but after some drinks and a few icebreakers, Heeseung starts to warm up to your friends, and vice versa. Yunjin, in particular, gets more comfortable with him than youâd like. Knowing her, itâs probably her attempt at flirting with Heeseung now that heâs the hot guy at the party everyone wants a piece of. You donât expect any better from Yunjin, but Heeseung? He gladly reciprocates her flirtatious attempts, even black knight drinks for her whenever she loses one of your drinking games.
Youâve been sending Heeseung death glares, which heâd notice if only he spared you a glance or two in the last fifteen minutes. The word 'jealousy' is an understatement at this point. But then again, why would you be jealous? Itâs not like the two of you are dating. But you did get close to him first. You know his little secret, you slept on his bed, heck, you even made out with him. You, not Yunjin, not Chaewon, not Sakura, and certainly not Jay or Sunghoon. So why are you getting the least attention from him among everyone else?
Frustrated, you pull out your phone and send him a piece of your mind. His phone vibrates on the table, but he doesnât notice it. Pettily, you kick him in the shin under the table, and he lets out a yelp. You signal to his phone, and he checks it, smirking when he sees the content.
Heeseung excuses himself first, and you follow a few minutes later, claiming youâre going to get more drinks for everyone. Your friends are already past the boundary between sober and drunk, and they probably donât even hear you. If they do, theyâre too intoxicated to process it in their heads fast enough before you leave.
You squeeze yourself between the messy tango of people in the house until you reach the base of the staircase. Upstairs has fewer people, though most of them are likely looking for an empty room to complete their seven minutes in heaven with a stranger they just met. You find Heeseung leaning against the ledge overlooking the ground floor, and you just stand and admire him in all his glory until he finally notices you.
âTook you long enough,â Heeseung teases, reaching a hand out for you to hold, and you do just that. He pulls you in closer, spinning you around against the ledge so youâre now trapped between it and him. His arms press against either side of you, leaving you with nowhere to run, not that you would if given the chance.
âNever knew The Y/L/N Y/N could get jealous so easily. I must have overestimated you.â He leans in, and you can smell the vivid scent of alcohol mixed with cigarettes edged onto the fabric of his clothes.
âI told you, Iâm not jealous.â You roll your eyes, trying to mask the fact that heâs hit the nail on the head.
âOh, really?â Heeseungâs voice is a low murmur, his breath warm against your ear. âThen why were you glaring at me like that?â
âI just didnât like seeing Yunjin all over you,â you admit, your voice softer than you intended. The truth slips out before you can stop it, and you feel a rush of vulnerability.
Heeseung chuckles, a sound that vibrates through you. âWell, Iâm sorry that you felt like I wasnât giving you enough attention. You have it all now.â
Your heart flutters at his words, and you look up at him, searching his face for any hint of insincerity. But all you see is the same boy who has become so important to you, looking at you with a mixture of amusement and affection.
âYouâre impossible,â you mumble, a smile tugging at your lips despite yourself.
He shifts his hands to hold you firmly on your sides, not breaking eye contact for a second. âAm I holding on to you like youâre precious now?â You mentally cringe at yourself for having sent him that text. Not wanting to give him that satisfaction, you purposely ignore the question.
Heeseung smiles, his eyes crinkling at the corners. âMy precious princess,â he murmurs, closing the distance between you. His lips capture yours in a kiss thatâs both gentle and passionate, and you feel yourself melting into him.
In that moment, the noise of the party fades away, leaving just the two of you in your own little world. And as Heeseungâs arms wrap around you, holding you close, you come to terms with the feeling that yes you do, you feel precious.
#4 - The Fallout
The night ends in a blur of emotions and stolen moments, the memory of Heeseungâs kiss lingering on your lips as you part ways. Heeseung walks you to your door, his hand lingering on yours before he finally lets go, promising to text you later. You watch him disappear into the night, a warm feeling settling in your chest despite the cold air.
But Heeseungâs warmth is replaced by a chilling reality when he arrives home. The house is dark and quiet, a stark contrast to the vibrant energy of the party. Heeseung tiptoes through the hallway, trying to avoid waking anyone, but the creak of a floorboard betrays him.
âLee Heeseung.â
The voice is cold and sharp, freezing Heeseung in his tracks. He turns to see his father standing at the top of the stairs, the dim light casting a shadow over his face. His fatherâs stern expression is enough to drain any remaining warmth from Heeseungâs veins.
âWhere have you been?â His fatherâs voice is controlled, but Heeseung can hear the underlying anger.
âI was just out with some friends,â Heeseung replies, trying to keep his voice steady.
âDonât lie to me,â his father snaps, descending the stairs with heavy, deliberate steps. âI got a call from Mr Kim. His son showed him pictures of you at a party posted all over the academyâs forum.â
Heeseungâs heart sinks. Mr Kim, a family friend and strict disciplinarian. The old man's disapproval was well-known, and Heeseungâs father always took his word seriously. He must have been tipped off by his own children studying at the academy, and in true fashion, news spread like wildfire, especially among the elites. The anxiety gnaws at him as he imagines Mr. Kim's stern face, the way his fatherâs expression will harden with disappointment. Heeseungâs mind races, trying to find a way to mitigate the fallout.
âFather, Iââ
Before he can finish, his fatherâs hand strikes him across the face, the force of the blow sending him stumbling back. The sharp sting spreads across his cheek, but itâs the look of disappointment in his fatherâs eyes that hurts the most.
âYou disgrace this family,â his father seethes. âSneaking out to drink and party like some delinquent. Youâre throwing away everything weâve worked for.â
Heeseung tries to speak, to defend himself, but his fatherâs next blow catches him in the ribs, knocking the wind out of him. Heeseung doubles over, gasping for breath, his vision blurring with tears. He doesnât dare fight back; he knows it will only make things worse.
âYou think you can just do whatever you want?â His fatherâs voice is a harsh whisper, filled with venom. âYouâre nothing without this family, without me.â
Another punch lands on Heeseungâs shoulder, and he crumples to the floor, curling into himself in a futile attempt to shield his body from the blows. Each hit is a reminder of his place, of the expectations heâs failed to meet.
The beating continues, each strike heavier than the last, until finally, his father steps back, breathing heavily. Heeseung remains on the floor, pain radiating through his body, tears mixing with the blood from his split lip.
âGet to your room,â his father orders, voice cold. âAnd donât think about leaving this house again without my permission.â
Heeseung drags himself up, each movement sending fresh waves of pain through him. He stumbles to his room, collapsing onto his bed. The darkness of his room feels like a refuge, but itâs not enough to keep the tears from falling.
Heeseung curls into himself, clutching his phone to his chest. He wants to call you, to hear your voice, to find some comfort in your presence, but he knows he canât. The risk is too great. Instead, he texts you a simple goodnight, hoping youâll understand the unspoken plea for solace.
As the pain in his body slowly dulls, the emotional scars feel even deeper. Heeseung closes his eyes, wishing for sleep to take him away from the reality of his life. But even in his dreams, he canât escape the feeling of his fatherâs disappointment, a weight that crushes him more than any physical blow ever could.
A whole week passes by since that night at Sunooâs, and you wonder if the universe is playing another game with you. You no longer run into Heeseung in the hallway or find him huddled up reading in a corner of the library. Itâs strange. Not only have you not seen him, but he also hasnât texted you back. He always texts you back.
You even consider finding him at his mansion, but now that your project is done and dusted, you no longer have a reason to show up at his front door without looking like a clingy girlfriendâwho isnât his girlfriend. There is also the issue with his father; you donât want to risk running into that man more than you need to.
Surely something mustâve happened for him to blatantly ignore you. Youâre not even going to convince yourself otherwise, because nobody just suddenly goes radio silent on someone. You think back to that night, wondering what couldâve possibly gone wrong. Was it the kiss? Did you come off too possessive in your text messages? Or was it the fact you guilt-tripped him into attending the party with you, and his face ended up everywhere on the Decelis T?
Yes, youâve seen the posts. Youâve seen the way people talk about you and Heeseung. Frankly speaking, you couldnât care less. This isnât your first rodeo with what the people in this school have to say about you. Youâre used to it. What you hate to see are the posts about Heeseung, about how you ruined his bright future. And you canât help but think that what these trolls are saying holds some truth.
The whispers in the hallways, the stares, and the snide remarksâthey donât bother you. But the thought that Heeseung might be suffering because of you does. You remember the way he had held you at the party, the way he had looked at you with such warmth and affection. It seems impossible that he would just abandon you without a word.
You decide to visit the library one more time, hoping against hope that you might find him there. The library is almost empty, the silence broken only by the soft rustling of pages and the occasional whisper. You scan the room, but thereâs no sign of him.
Defeated, you sit down at one of the tables, your mind racing with a thousand questions. You pull out your phone, scrolling through your messages with Heeseung, rereading them in search of any clue you might have missed. Each unanswered text feels like a weight on your chest, a reminder of the distance growing between you.
Your thoughts are interrupted by a sudden ping from your phone. You glance down, heart leaping with hope, only to see a message from Chaewon. Sheâs asking if you want to grab lunch, but you canât muster the energy to respond. All you can think about is Heeseung and why heâs disappeared from your life so abruptly.
With a sigh, you put your phone away and rest your head on your arms, feeling a mixture of frustration and sadness. The libraryâs quiet atmosphere does little to soothe your troubled mind. As you sit there, your mind in a whirlwind of confusion and concern, you hear footsteps approaching. You glance up to see Jake walking past you, a book in hand and a frown on his face. Relief washes over you at the sight of a familiar face.
"Jake," you call out, standing up. The boy seems surprised that you even knew his name, given that you barely talked to him.
"Have you seen Heeseung? I haven't heard from him all week."
Jake's frown deepens. "No, I haven't seen him. I thought he was just busy with you. Looks like you donât know where heâs been either.â You sense some animosity in his words, but you try not to focus too much on it.
âWhat do you mean busy with me?â you ask, eyebrows raised.
âThatâs what everyoneâs been saying. Lee Heeseung sleeping around with the campus slut.â Youâre taken aback by his words, and youâd be lying if you said it didnât sting, especially on an open wound.
âOkay, ouch? What did I even do to you?â Your voice comes out more defensive than you wanted it to, and Jake isnât dumb enough to not notice it.
âYouâre one to talk,â he mutters, now just pushing at the tiny bits of patience you had left after all the shit youâve endured this entire week.
Jake hesitates, then sighs. "He told me he was going to stay out of trouble and focus on his studies, but it seems like he lied. Heâs been sneaking off to parties, thanks to the likes of you. Who knows? Heâs probably grounded right now because of that.â
Your anger flares, and you take a step closer to Jake. "You think this is all my fault? That I'm some kind of bad influence on Heeseung? Do you even know what heâs going through? He needed an escape, Jake. He needed friends to support him, not judge him."
Jake crosses his arms, still looking skeptical. "Support? By dragging him to parties and getting him in trouble?"
"Support by being there for him when he feels suffocated by his father and this school!" you snap. "You donât know half of what Heeseungâs dealing with. You think heâs lying to you, but maybe he just didnât want to burden you with his problems."
Jake's expression softens slightly, but he still looks unconvinced. "I just thought he was focusing on his future. Now it seems like heâs throwing it all away."
You take a deep breath, trying to calm down. "Jake, Heeseung is trying to balance everything. Heâs not perfect, and heâs going to make mistakes. But he needs his friends now more than ever. You donât get to be disappointed in him without even trying to understand."
âAnd what makes you think you understand him? Y/N, you knew him barely for a quarter of the time I did. If thereâs anything, he wouldâve told me by now.â Jake snaps, his voice rising and attracting the attention of every nearby patron.
âI donât think I understand him, Jake. I know I understand him, more than you ever will. Because if you really understood him, youâd know he never wanted to be tied down by all these expectations from you or his father. If you really cared about Heeseung, you wouldnât be here arguing with me about whatâs best for him, because who are you to decide that for him? You should be showing up, reaching out to him now more than ever, but youâre not.â You say your last piece with conviction, each word laden with frustration and a hint of desperation.
Jake is stunned, his face paling as he absorbs your words. You can tell by the way heâs disassociating, his eyes glazing over and his expression becoming distant, that some part of what you said hit him hard.Â
The library is now uncomfortably silent, the eyes of the other patrons heavy on you both. You can feel your heartbeat in your throat, your hands trembling slightly from the intensity of the confrontation. But Jake doesnât say anything, just stands there, his mind clearly racing.
You take a step back, the anger and adrenaline starting to ebb away, replaced by a gnawing worry for Heeseung. "Iâm going to find him, Jake. With or without your help," you say softly, your voice barely above a whisper, but firm. With your new resolve, you leave Jake standing still in the middle of the library, the gears in his head turning as he tries to recall all the times Heeseung was ever out of character, even for just a second.
Then it strikes him. All those times Jake showed up at Heeseungâs house over the holidays, he was somehow never home. His clothes always had a hint of cigarettes, but Jake was never too sure because Heeseung would attempt to drown out the smell with his cologne. Then there was that one time over winter break when Heeseung drunk-texted him one evening, but when Jake confronted him about it the next morning, Heeseung claimed he was at a company event with his father and had drunk to entertain the guests. All of it sounded perfectly reasonable to Jake at the time.
Jakeâs mind races, piecing together the fragments of inconsistencies. Is Heeseung not who he seems to be? This realisation hits Jake like a ton of bricks. Heâs been blind, perhaps too caught up in his own expectations to notice his friendâs struggles. And like the theorist he is, Jake is determined to find out the truth.
The conversation ends, and the conviction in Jakeâs messages gives Heeseung a strength he didnât know he had. Heeseung recalls a particular conversation he had with you, about how if Jake truly cares for him, heâd appreciate his honesty. And you werenât wrong, because Heeseung and Jake come out of this with a brotherhood stronger than ever. Itâs like you knew this would happen.
Then again, you always give the best advice and always know what to say to reassure him. You know him like the back of your hand, reading his thoughts like the cover of a book, which convinces Heeseung even further that if you arenât soulmates, no other words can describe the connection you two hold. And itâs because you two are soulmates that the universe decides itâs finally time to piece the two of you together so that neither of you has to continue pretending to be someone youâre not.
But no, youâre not soulmates. What you have isnât because of some cosmic design. Heeseung willed this. He willed you to come into his life; he willed you to show up at that club all those months back to catch him in the act; he willed you to be the one he can be himself around. He intricately weaved the threads of fate himself until they spelt your name. And right now, your name, Y/N, is like a mantra in his head, echoing itself over and over again until he sees you in the flesh, until he feels your presence in his vicinity. That mantra is the only thing driving his decision.
That night, Heeseung sneaks out of his mansion. He moves quietly, making sure not to alert anyone, especially his father. His heart pounds in his chest, each beat a mixture of fear and excitement. Every creak of the floorboards seems amplified in the stillness of the house, and he holds his breath, praying no one hears. Heeseung has never felt so alive, the adrenaline surging through his veins as he edges closer to freedom.
The cool night air greets him as he slips out the back door, a stark contrast to the oppressive atmosphere of his home. The stars above seem to twinkle with approval, as if they too support his decision. Heeseung pulls his jacket tighter around him, not just for warmth but for comfort, as he heads towards your apartment. Each step is a step towards reclaiming his life, towards taking control of his own destiny.
As he walks through the quiet streets, memories of you flood his mind. He thinks of your smile, the way your eyes light up when you talk about something you love, the sound of your laughter. The thought of seeing you again, of being in your presence, propels him forward. Heeseungâs heart swells with a mixture of longing and determination. This is what he wants. This is what he needs.
Heeseung finally arrives at your apartment building, his pulse quickening. He takes a moment to gather himself, taking deep breaths to steady his racing heart. The anticipation is almost too much to bear, but he knows he has to do this. For himself. For you.
He approaches your door, his hand trembling slightly as he raises it to knock. The sound echoes softly in the hallway, and he waits, his breath caught in his throat.
When you open the door, the sight of you takes Heeseungâs breath away. You look surprised, but thereâs a warmth in your eyes that reassures him. For a moment, neither of you speaks.
âHeeseung,â you finally say, your voice soft but filled with concern and relief. âWhere have you been? I was worried sick!â You hit him softly on his chest, and Heeseung smiles, the familiar gesture a balm to his frayed nerves.
âI know, Iâm so sorry, Y/N. But I really needed to see you,â he replies, his voice barely above a whisper, laden with regret.
âYou think you can just disappear whenever itâs convenient and come back when you want to see me? What if I want to see you? Have you ever thought about that? Selfish jerk.â You fight back the tears threatening to fall. Part of you is angry that Heeseung is doing whatever he pleases, but another part of you wants to just forget the pain and longing youâve been experiencing the past week and crash into his arms. Itâs sickening, the power he has over you.
âI was wrong, princess. I wonât disappear again. Not anymore.â
You step aside, allowing him to enter. The familiar scent of your apartment wraps around him like a comforting embrace. The tension that has been gripping him for days begins to ebb away, replaced by a sense of belonging and peace. He realises now, more than ever, how much heâs missed you, how much he needs you.
You both stand there for a moment, the silence filled with unspoken words and emotions. Heeseung reaches out and gently takes your hand, his touch sending a reassuring warmth through you. âIâve missed you so much, Y/N. I didnât realise how much until I couldnât see you.â
You look up at him, your eyes searching his for sincerity. âPromise me you wonât shut me out again.â
Heeseung pulls you into a gentle embrace, his arms wrapping around you securely. âI promise, Y/N. I wonât shut you out. You mean too much to me.â
As you stand there, enveloped in his embrace, you can feel the tension in your own body slowly melting away. You close your eyes, resting your head against his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart. Each thump is a reminder that heâs here, that he cares, that he wonât leave you again. You take a deep breath, savouring the moment.
You open your eyes, and the two of you just look at each other, a silent understanding passing between you. You smile, your heart full, and you know that this time, his promise will be kept.
You have no clue what happened to him the past week, you donât know what stunts he had to pull in order to get to you today and have you in his arms. To be frank, you arenât looking forward to finding out. The cuts on his face and the bruises on his arms tell you plentyâmore than you need, really. You didnât comment on it when you first saw it, not wanting to bring up anything that caused him pain. When heâs ready, heâll tell you what happened on his own.
You draw back slightly to look at him, your fingers brushing against his cheek. His skin is warm under your touch, and his eyes hold a mixture of relief, regret, and deep affection. He leans into your touch, feeling a sense of peace wash over you. You take his hand and guide him to the couch, where you sit close together, the familiarity of your surroundings adding to the comfort of the moment.Â
You spent almost an hour talking about everything but nothing at the same time, it's like every time Heeseung felt he was ready to talk, he backs out and veers off into another topic instead. He shares about his reconciliation with Jake, how your advice about honesty proved true, and his regret over not being upfront sooner. He mentions the newfound attention he's received since the party at Sunoo's, people sliding into his DMs, but it all seems like a distraction from what he really wants to share.
You can see the struggle in his eyes, the weight of unspoken words on his mind. Without needing to say much, you place your hand gently on his, a silent assurance that you're here, you understand, and he can take his time. âHey, slow down yeah? Heeseung, thereâs no rush to tell me everything right now. Iâll be here whenever.â You say gently, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze.
In the depths of human nature, is an obsessive desire for logical explanations that make sense. However, thereâs no explanation logical enough for how you just always seem to know your way around his emotions, because the gesture works almost immediately in calming his nerves.
Heeseung takes a deep breath, his gaze fixed on your joined hands. His fingers intertwine with yours, and you can feel the tension in his grip. Itâs a silent signal that heâs ready to share whatâs been weighing on his mind.
âRemember, you donât have to tell me anything if youâre not ready.âÂ
âNo, I need to tell you. You deserve to know.â He pauses, gathering his thoughts. âThat night at Sunooâs, everything was fine until I got home. My father was waiting for me. Someone probably sent him the pictures from the party, the ones all over the Decelis T. He was furious.â
You nod, encouraging him to continue. The anguish in his voice is palpable, and it breaks your heart to see him like this.
âHe was so angry. He didnât even give me a chance to explain. He just kept yelling about how I was ruining everything, how I was throwing away my future. And thenâŠâ Heeseungâs voice falters, and he swallows hard. âThen he hit me. Over and over.â
Your heart clenches, and you feel a surge of protective anger. âHeeseungâŠâ you whisper, your voice trembling. You reach out, gently tracing the bruises on his arms with your fingertips. âIâm so sorry. I canât believe he did that to you.â
Heeseungâs eyes glisten with unshed tears. âI tried to stand up for myself, Y/N. I really did. But it only made things worse. He said I was a disgrace, that I wasnât living up to the family name. He threatened to cut me off completely if I didnât get my act together.â
Youâre in fury by this point, because how could anyone possibly expect you sit still and listen when someone you care about is being hurt by someone who is suppose to shelter him with love and hope. This anger is mixed with sadness when you realise this is probably a frequent occurrence for him.
âYou donât deserve any of this. Youâre amazing, Heeseung. Donât let him make you believe otherwise.â
Heeseung takes a shaky breath, his grip on your hand tightening. âAfter that, Jake called me, and he helped me realise that I need to fight for my own life. That I canât keep living under my fatherâs thumb. Thatâs when I decided to sneak out and come here. I needed to see you. Youâre the one thing that keeps me grounded, that makes me feel like I can be myself.â
Tears well up in your eyes, and you pull him into a tight embrace. âWeâll get through this together. I promise.â
Heeseung holds you close, his voice filled with a mix of relief and determination. "Thank you, Y/N. I donât know what Iâd do without you." His words, though fitting for the occasion, hit you more deeply than you expect. You feel his heartbeat against your chest, each thump echoing the sincerity of his words. The realisation that he is relying on you as much as you are on him sinks in. You understand that the only thing keeping both of you sane, preventing you from becoming the versions of yourselves that others expect, is each other.
That night, you make the bold decision to invite Heeseung to stay over, considering itâs already well past midnight. As if sneaking out wasn't difficult enough, Heeseung assumes sneaking back in before dawn and before anyone realises heâs gone missing wouldnât be too much of a challenge. Without even thinking twice, Heeseung accepts your offer, a mixture of relief that for a night, at least, he doesnât have to feel trapped in the confines of his makeshift prison.
Unfortunately, you hadnât fully thought this through. You live in a studio apartment, and with your queen-size bed spilling into your so called living room, thereâs no privacy. You two are essentially sharing the same space. The room feels suddenly smaller, the proximity more intimate than ever before.
Noticing Heeseungâs fading bruises, you almost offer to take the couch so he can sleep comfortably on the bed. However, you know heâd likely reject your offer anyway so you didnât even try. As you rack your brain trying to find a solution that works for both of you, Heeseung speaks up.
âWe can just share the bed.â He shrugs, his expression stoic as if he hadnât just spout the most out of pocket thing ever. Speechless, you stare at him, eyebrows raised, trying to form a coherent sentence that wonât embarrass you.
"Uhm..."
âWhat? Your bed is huge; Iâm pretty sure we could both fit on there.â You canât tell if heâs playing innocent, being naive, or if his dad knocked some sense out of him, but the shamelessness is almost baffling.
You won't lie and say the idea didn't cross your mind at some point, but the thought of sleeping next to Heeseung, especially now that youâve come to terms with your feelings for him, seems like an impossible task. Youâre afraid your heartbeat will vibrate across the mattress, and heâll hear it and question you. The mere thought brings heat to your face, your pulse quickening at the proximity.
âOh I see, youâre shy. Come on, itâs not like itâll be the first time weâre sleeping together anyway.â He says, referring to the night the two of you made out and you accidentally fell asleep on his bed.
âDonât phrase it like that, gosh. And that time was an accident.â You puff your cheeks, willing the heat to cool down but to no avail. The memory of that night, the closeness, and the vulnerability, floods back, making your heart race.
âYouâre the one making this weird; itâs literally just sleeping. Not like weâre going to have sex or anything.â He giggles. Youâre taken aback by the statement, and more so by his little giggle that accompanied it. How can he laugh in this situation when youâre as panicked as it is?
âOkay, now youâre just being annoying.â You turn your back towards him, rolling your eyes in feigned annoyance, though honestly, it only makes you feel more embarrassed for reacting the way you did.Â
âAlright, alright, Iâll stop. If it makes you comfortable, Iâll take the couch.â His voice softens, sensing your discomfort, but his eyes hold a plea, a silent wish to stay close.
âWhat? No! Youâre injured; you should be getting plenty of quality rest.â You insist, your concern for him outweighing your own embarrassment. The sight of his bruises, the fatigue in his eyes, tugs at your heartstrings.
âAnd let you take the couch? Donât even try.â He shakes his head, his determination clear. His gaze is steady, filled with a mixture of stubbornness and affection.
âFine. Weâll share the bed, but youâll stay on your side, and Iâll stay on mine. No. Funny. Business.â You say firmly, trying to set boundaries, but the warmth in his eyes makes your resolve waver. The idea of sharing a bed with him, feeling his presence so close, is both thrilling and terrifying.
As you both settle into bed, the silence is filled with the soft rustling of sheets and the distant hum of the city outside. The mattress dips under his weight, and you can feel the heat radiating from his body and hear the steady rhythm of his breathing.
The room is dark, but the glow from the streetlights outside casts a soft light across his face. He looks peaceful, and for a moment, you just watch him, your heart swelling with emotions too complex to name.
Heeseung turns to face you, and you immediately turn away, hoping he didnât catch you staring. You lie stoically on your bed, looking up at the ceiling, afraid to move a single muscle as you sense his gaze on you.
A few minutes pass, and you still feel his eyes on you. You suspect Heeseung himself doesnât even realise heâs been staring at you unwittinglyaa as. You feel the tension between you hit a new high, the silence growing heavier with each passing second that you feel the creeping need to dig a hole right where you are and hide inside it. The elephant in the room is big, way too fucking big, and you finally decide to address it.
âThereâs something else we need to talk about,â you say, finally turning your body to face him. His eyes meet yours in the dim light. You can barely make out the expressions on his face, but you can tell from the sudden shift in his body language that his guard is up at your proclamation.
âWhat is it?â he asks, his voice soft yet tinged with apprehension.
You take a deep breath, gathering your thoughts and courage. âThis⊠situation between us. What are we doing, Heeseung?â
Heeseungâs eyes flicker with uncertainty, and he looks down at his hands, fidgeting with the edge of the blanket. âIâve been asking myself the same thing,â he admits. âI donât want to mess this up, whatever it is.â
You feel a pang of vulnerability, a raw honesty hanging in the air. Before you can say anything else, Heeseung speaks up, his voice barely above a whisper but filled with intensity. âI like you, a lot actually. If it wasnât already obvious enough, I like you, Y/N.â You can tell it took him a lot of courage to confess this to you.
Before you even got the chance to reciprocate his feelings, he stops you, wanting you to finish listening to what he has to say before he can bring himself to hear your answer. So you let him.
âI know our situation is really unconventional, and that itâll be situationally better for both of us if I stayed away from you. Thatâs how I initially planned to keep you safe. But something about you, its like a drug; I just keep wanting more. Every minute, every second of every fucking day Iâm just thinking about you. I want to know what youâre doing, who youâre with. I want to punch every single person who has nothing good to say about you. I want to feel you, I want to hug you, god, I want to kiss you so bad.â
He pauses, his eyes locking onto yours. âI realised how much you mean to me when I no longer try to force myself to sleep, trying to dream of something that'll numb my pain just a little. Instead, I can't sleep thinking about you because, for the first time, my reality is finally better than any dream. This, whatever we have, is real, and itâs the only thing that makes sense in my life right now. But every time I close my eyes thinking about you, Iâm just reminded of the fact that I canât have you and treat you the way you deserve.â
âYou can have me, Heeseung,â you say, your voice filled with determination and emotion.
âYou know what I mean, Y/N. I mean just look at the state Iâm in. If my father can do this to his own blood, I donât see why he wouldnât do worse to you. I canât have that.â
You reach out and gently touch his face, your fingers tracing the bruises and cuts. âHeeseung, I donât care about the risks. I care about you. I want to be with you, no matter what.â
Heeseung looks at you, his eyes filled with a mixture of fear, hope, and love. He leans into your touch, his hand covering yours. âI donât want to lose you, Y/N.â
âYou wonât,â you promise, your voice steady and sure. âWeâll figure this out. Together.â
Heeseungâs eyes soften, and he leans in closer, his forehead resting against yours. âThank you,â he whispers. âI donât know what Iâd do without you.â
Those words again. The phrase, "I donât know what Iâd do without you," to you isnât mindless appreciation but a genuine confession. In your fucked-up realities, you are each otherâs only salvation where he doesnât have to shed any part of himself to feel connected with you. You see the vulnerability in his eyes, the way he looks at you with a mixture of hope and desperation. Itâs a look that tells you he needs you as much as you need him.
With that realisation, you know you are ready to be the person who loves him, no matter how imperfect he is. This is no easy feat, because it is easy to love someone when theyâre perfect. But loving someone when they are wearing their flaws like an apology, when nobody else tries to really know them and accept them for who they areâthat is what truly makes a difference. You think back to all the moments when he was vulnerable, when he let down his guard and showed you the parts of himself that he kept hidden from the world. Those are the moments that made you fall in love with him, not despite his flaws, but because of them.
You smile, your heart swelling with love as you reply to his sentiment, âLucky for you, youâll never have to find out.â
Heeseungâs arms tighten around you, and you can feel the tension in his body slowly melting away. His shoulders, once rigid with stress and fear, relax against you. The scent of his cologne, mixed with the faint smell of cigarettes, is comforting and familiar. You realise that this is where you both belong, in each otherâs arms, facing whatever comes your way together.
Heeseungâs fingers gently brush against your cheek, sending a shiver down your spine. He leans in, his breath warm against your skin, and your eyes flutter closed as his lips meet yours in a tender, lingering kiss.
When you finally pull away, Heeseungâs forehead rests against yours, his fingers tangled in your hair. âI love you, Y/N,â he whispers, his voice filled with emotion. âIâll do whatever it takes to keep you safe, to make this work.â You nod, tears welling up in your eyes.
Funny, isnât it, how you started insisting he stayed on his side of the bed, and now youâre wrapped in his arms with barely any space between your bodies. You can feel his heartbeat against your chest, his breath against your neck. His eyes meet yours, and you see a depth of emotion there that takes your breath away. Itâs a look of pure, unfiltered love and gratitude. You know that this moment, this connection, is what youâve both been searching for.
Itâs the kind of love that makes you feel alive.
That makes you feel whole.
That makes you feel like you.
masterlist | part two
#enhypen#jungwon#heeseung#sunghoon#belift#hybe#jay#iland#sunoo#enhypen fluff#jake#riki#ni-ki#enhypen au#enhypen college au#enhypen angst#enhypen crack#enhypen x reader#enhypen oneshots#heeseung x reader#lee heeseung#lee heeseung x reader#heeseung oneshots#heeseung au#tfwy smokescreens&cigarettes#tfwy au
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SMOKE SCREENS & CIGARETTES â teaser (18+)
How does it feel to be the you that has abandoned the façade of living up to the expectations of others, venturing into the uncharted territories of your inner truth, and exploring the new horizons of what it means to be truly and completely you?
IN WHICH; a popular girl uncovers the smart goody-two-shoes was in fact living a double life.
pairing: collegestudent!heeseung x collegestudent!fem!reader
taglist: not opened yet! will update when i'm taking in tags!
coming to you soon! (hopefully)
Lee Heeseung is always known as the quiet boy in class. Although his popularity in school would suggest otherwise, he is never viewed as the rebellious or partying type. In fact, he is the kind of student who reminds the teacher about pending assignments just as the lesson is about to conclude. Simply put, Lee Heeseung fits the stereotype of a nerdâat least, that's the version of him you are accustomed to.
So, when you unexpectedly encounter him at a club in another city during your summer break, his hair, now sporting green highlights, is slicked back instead of covering his eyes as it typically does on campus. He has multiple metal studs hanging from his earlobe, but above all, he seems to be thoroughly enjoying himself, dancing, drinking, and smoking without inhibition. Needless to say, you are taken aback.
While it's not uncommon for an overage university student to be partying during their vacation, this is Lee Heeseung we're talking about. The last thing you'd expect is to see him in Club Dark Moon, one hand holding a glass of some intoxicating liquid, and the other wrapped around the waist of a girl who appears to be of similar age to yourself.
This is the same Lee Heeseung who never knows when to take a hint in class, always finding an opportunity to correct the teacher. The Lee Heeseung who never fails to maintain perfect posture throughout 3-hour long lectures. The Lee Heeseung who becomes unresponsive and distant when the conversation veers away from academic topics. The Lee Heeseung who secretly envies you because you embody everything he isn't.
Now, in the flesh, is The Lee Heeseung embodying everything you thought he wasn't.
You are popular yourself, considering your extroverted and altruistic nature; you are popular because you know how to party. Lee Heeseung is popular because he is a quiet and smart kid yet has a mysterious aura that makes him so god damn attractive. The two of you are complete polar opposites, each other's antonyms, and while possessing many contradictory qualities, you are actually similar to one another in many ways that don't meet the eye.
You frequently attend the weekly Friday night parties hosted by the university fraternities. And with each step you take, you effortlessly command the attention of every person present, your magnetic presence impossible to ignore. Everybody yearns to be in your orbit; guys want you, while girls admire your confidence and charisma, secretly wishing to be you. Your friends eagerly drag you to every party down the block, basking in the reflected glow of being associated with The Y/L/N Y/Nâa name synonymous with popularity and social prowess.
Despite the overwhelming amount of attention you receive throughout your undergraduate career, a persistent sense of unease gnaws at you as you find yourself grappling with a profound sense of disconnection. While externally you seamlessly blend into the pulsating dynamic of university life, internally, youâre like a solitary figure navigating a sea of expectations and obligations. You fit in, but at the same time, you donât.
You always think that maybe you're just stressed out with assignment deadlines. Well, clearly, since youâre partying when you should be working on the next paragraph of your final year thesis. If only the answer were as simple as that.
No, you're not stressed. You just simply do not belong to the party life. However, as the nights blur into days and the days into weeks, you begin to feel the weight of societal expectations pressing down on you, particularly the burden of being labelled as the "popular kid." And popular kids always arrive fashionably late to every party. Popular kids are the lives of the party. Popular kids are party animals.
By the time you notice your desolation, you're already too far gone, you've convinced yourself that this is your life and all you have to do is suck it up, at least until you graduate. You're constantly trying to squeeze yourself into the mould of expectations that your peers have so delicately carved out for you, that you often find yourself questioning the authenticity of your existence, wondering if the facade of popularity is worth sacrificing yourself. Your true self.
And that's being the ambitious and studious girl you always were and still are. You would rather stay at home and finish writing your 100-page psychological analysis on 'Social Cognition and Perception', or finish reading the third volume of the 'Persuasion, Propaganda, and Marketing' trilogy. Hell, you would even rather do a mountain of chores than attend another frat party.
Though you long to share your intellectual passions with your friends, you hesitate, aware that their interests lie elsewhere. Theyâre in it for the social society life, effortlessly navigating sorority events and basking in the glow of admiration that comes with being in your inner social circle. Yet, beneath their carefree façade, they remain oblivious to the dedication and diligence required to maintain your impeccable grades. Only assuming that youâre a natural-born beauty and brains.
Thus, this label of being the âpopular kidâ becomes both a mantle of honour and a burden to bear, as you struggle within the confines of a stereotype that fails to encapsulate the complexity of your identity.
Itâs your last break before your final semester and you are thrilled as you eagerly plan your to-do list over the summer break. Maybe learn to play the guitar, go on a hike, or finally start reading that fiction book you had put off for months. You envision checking it all off before the final semester begins. However, your plans are unexpectedly put on hold when your friends suggest a pre-graduation chalet trip to a province northeast of Seoul.
This trip marks your first time travelling outside of the city, and it's with your adventurous, somewhat reckless friends. The decision is made hastily, with everything arranged at the eleventh hour. Your friends unanimously agree to simply "go with the flow," as Yunjin puts it.
Unfortunately for you, your meticulous personality type craves structure and detailed planning, and you are only able to feel at ease if you have an itinerary to follow. Hence, itâs not a surprise that you were apprehensive about embarking on this trip. You even considered skipping the excursion altogether. Except that wouldn't be fitting for a popular kid, would it? Popular kids should be laid-back and adaptable, they should be going with the flow too, they do not need people telling them what to do should listen and act on what people expect of them.
"Y/N! We're leaving in 5 minutes, will you be ready soon?" Chaewon barges into your room in the Airbnb that the four of you share. Despite your reluctance, you plaster on your flawless façade and smile. "Yes, yes, I'm ready. So impatient as always," you half-jokingly roll your eyes, relieved that Chaewon doesn't catch the genuine hesitation in your tone.
Itâs not that you dislike your friends or anything; in fact, you're grateful that they're the most genuine people you've met at university. Unlike most students who sacrifice their integrity to gain favour, your friends are refreshingly candid about their opinions of you. While you and Chaewon didn't hit it off at first, now you're practically two peas in a pod. Yet, it doesn't change the fact that you've become a puppet catering to your friends' partying whims.
As you gaze into the mirror, you confront a version of yourself that you yourself could barely recognise. The person you once wereâvibrant, authentic, and unapologetically yourselfâhas become obscured beneath layers of societal expectations and peer pressure. Still, it wouldnât be the first time choosing to pretend the girl in the mirror is you, because whatâs another day of grinding up your confidence and making it a meal that would last you an hour at best?
So, you do what you do bestâpicking out the skimpiest dress you own, spraying on your most testosterone-provoking perfume, and drawing a cat-eye sharp enough to kill anyone who dares to meet your gaze.
#enhypen#jungwon#heeseung#sunghoon#belift#hybe#jay#sunoo#iland#jake#ni-ki#riki#lee heeseung#lee heesung x reader#heeseung au#heeseung oneshots#lee heeseung au#heeseung x reader#university#young adult#enhypen au#enhypen scenarios#enhypen x reader#enhypen angst#enhypen fluff#tfwy smokescreens&cigarettes#tfwy au
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SMOKE SCREENS & CIGARETTES â part two
part one | masterlist
#5 - Blood ainât thicker than peace of mind
You wake up to the sound of panicked shuffling, as if a burglar broke into your apartment except they werenât very good at the whole stealth thing. You open your eyes to see Heeseung frantically putting on his jacket, grabbing his belongings at the same time. Weirdly enough, this whole scene feels like the aftermath of a one-night stand, as if everything that happened between you two the night before was all just a dream. You glance outside the apartment window and notice how the sky is still relatively dim, the sun only just starting to rise.
âWhere are you going in such a hurry?â you pipe up, causing Heeseung to jump a little, probably not expecting you to wake up so soon.
âShit, did I wake you? Iâm so sorry, I didnât mean to.â He sighs in exasperation, and you can immediately tell heâs tense.
âWhatâs going on, Heeseung?â you ask, sitting up and rubbing your eyes.
âI got a message from my sister.â
âHaeyi? Didnât you say sheâs out of the country?â
âYeah well apparently sheâs in Seoul right now. Her text sounded really serious. I donât know Y/N, Iâm scared.â He gulps, millions of scenarios playing out in his head, each one worse than the last. One look at him and youâre already out of bed, grabbing your own clothes. âIâm coming with you.â
Heeseung pauses, âWhat? No! Y/N, I donât want you to get involved. Itâs dangerous.â
âI donât care,â you say firmly. âDid you already forget everything I said yesterday? Iâm not letting you face this alone.â Heeseung considers your word carefully before agreeing to let you come along, simply because he knows you would anyway even if he insisted for you to stay. Though another part of him is thankful that you offered so quickly, frankly speaking he could barely think, and having you around might soothe his mind just enough for him to not do something stupid.Â
Without another moment to spare, the two of you rush out of the apartment, barely taking the time to lock the door behind you. The ride to Heeseungâs house is filled with a tense silence, broken only by the occasional sound of Heeseungâs heavy breathing. You reach out and squeeze his hand, offering him silent support.
When you arrive at Heeseungâs place, the atmosphere feels thick with tension, like the air itself is warning you of whatâs to come. As Heeseung fumbles with the keys, his hands trembling, you can sense the weight of the moment. Each step down the hallway feels longer than the last, the silence between you suffocating. The house, usually quiet and calm, now feels like it's holding its breath, waiting for an explosion.
Rounding the corner into the living room, the sight before you makes your blood run cold. Heeseungâs mother and sister are huddled on the floor, both bruised and battered, their faces marked by pain and fear. The relief in Haeyiâs eyes is immediate when she spots Heeseung, but itâs quickly replaced with confusion as she looks at you. Thereâs a flicker of something unspoken in her gazeâa mixture of hope and disbelief that someone outside the family is here to witness this.
âHeeseung, youâre here,â Haeyi whispers, her voice shaky, barely able to mask the terror underneath.
Heeseungâs face twists with a combination of anger and grief as he takes in the horrifying sight of his family. His eyes flit between the bruises on his motherâs face and the tear-streaked expression of his sister, and you can feel his pain in the way his jaw tightens. âWhat the hell happened?â he demands, though his voice falters with the weight of it all. The fury in his tone betrays how helpless he feels, caught between rage and guilt.
Before anyone can respond, his father storms into the room, the sound of his heavy footsteps echoing through the tense air. His expression is dark, his presence like a storm cloud looming over everything. âSo, you finally decided to show up,â he sneers, his voice dripping with disdain as he steps toward Heeseung, as if daring him to challenge him.
Heeseung immediately moves forward, positioning himself between his father and his mother and sister. His protective instinct kicks in, but beneath his defensive posture, you see the heartbreak of a son facing a man who was supposed to protect them, not destroy them. âHow could you do this to them? Theyâre your family!â His voice cracks, the anguish evident, though his fury keeps him standing tall.
His fatherâs eyes flash with cold, merciless anger. âYou think you can disobey me and get away with it?â His tone is dangerously low, the threat clear as he takes another step closer. âIâll show you what happens to insolent children.â
You stand frozen, the fear creeping up your spine. You always knew Heeseungâs father was harsh, but seeing thisâseeing the reality of what heâs capable ofâitâs a different kind of horror. Haeyi clutches their mother tighter, her small frame trembling in fear, though she tries to offer what little comfort she can. The image of them, battered yet still clinging to each other, makes something snap inside you. This is what family is supposed to beâlove, sacrifice, protectionâand yet here he is, destroying it all.
Before you know it, youâre trembling in rage, strong waves of emotions clouding your better judgement. Your heart pounds in your chest as you step up behind Heeseung, your voice shaking but firm. âStop this!â you shout, surprising even yourself. âYou have no right to hurt them.â
Heeseungâs father narrows his eyes at you, his gaze like a predator sizing up prey. âAnd who are you,â he hisses, âto tell me what to do in my own house? This is your fault, you know. I had no choice but to resort to this because of you. Youâve corrupted my son, turned him against me with your dirty hands.â
Your stomach churns with disgust at his twisted logic. âThis is what you do,â you shoot back, your voice rising. âYou manipulate, gaslight, guilt-trip. You treat your children like investments, and when things donât go your way, you blame them for your own failures. But guess what?â You take a step closer, defiance burning in your eyes. âYou donât get to sell them like stocks. Your children arenât faulty products you can return just because you canât control them, asshole.â
The words hang in the air, and you can see the flicker of fury growing in his fatherâs eyes, his fists clenching at his sides. âYou think you know everything, donât you?â he growls. âYou think you can waltz in here and turn my own children against me? They are mine. My blood. They owe me their loyalty.â
âNo,â you reply, your voice unwavering, filled with a strength you didnât know you had. âThey donât owe you anything. They deserve love and respect, not fear and manipulation.â You glance at Heeseung, feeling the weight of everything hanging between him and his father.
Heeseung steps forward, standing by your side, his hand brushing against yours in a silent gesture of solidarity. âSheâs right, Dad. Iâm done being your puppet. Iâm done living in fear. You canât threaten me into doing what you want anymore.â
The fury in his fatherâs face deepens, his skin reddening as if he might explode at any second. âUngrateful brat!â he spits, his voice trembling with rage. âAfter everything Iâve done for you, this is how you repay me? By turning on your own father?â
Heeseung draws in a deep breath, his voice steady as he speaks. âYou never acted like my father. This isnât turning on youâthis is standing up for myself.â His words cut through the silence like a blade, and for a moment, even his father is speechless.
âYouâll regret this,â his father hisses, his tone venomous. âYouâll see what happens when you defy me. Everything you haveâfrom the clothes on your back to the roof over your headâcame from me. Youâre nothing without me.â
The words are meant to cut deep, but Heeseung doesnât flinch. He holds your hand tighter, drawing strength from your presence. âMaybe,â he says quietly, his gaze unwavering. âBut at least Iâll be free.â
The tension snaps as Haeyi rises from the floor, her face bruised but her expression determined. âYouâve hurt us for too long, Father,â she says, her voice low but resolute. âIâm leaving.â
His fatherâs eyes widen in shock, as if he canât believe Haeyi, out of everyone, would dare defy him. âYou wouldnât dare,â he growls.
âOh, I would,â she replies, her voice steady as she helps their mother to her feet. Mrs Lee doesnât say a word, still in shock, but she doesnât resist. âAnd Iâm taking Mum with me. You can go to hell for all I care. Youâre not my father anymore.â
The disbelief on Mr Leeâs face is palpable as he watches his family turn their backs on him. He scoffs, shaking his head in disbelief. âYouâll regret this. Youâll all come crawling back, and you know it.â
Heeseung doesnât look back, his voice cold as he speaks over his shoulder. âLike hell I will.â
For Haeyi, being out of the country gave her freedom to pursue her own endeavours and that included investments and ventures that she never mentioned to her family. She knew her father wouldnât care to find out what sheâs up to anyway, afterall she isnât the direct heir to the family business. As long as she kept her profile low and not get into any trouble, she would be left alone.
So fortunately for the now, homeless Lee family, Haeyi owns properties of her own in the city, ones that father probably never knew she owned, and thankfully relatively far away from the oppressive atmosphere of their fatherâs mansion. This meant they wouldnât have to sleep on the streets like what their father probably would have hoped.
You step into the penthouse, greeted with the minimalistic decor but unlike the mansion, it feels more homely and you know Heeseung feels it too. He slowly guided their mother to the couch, but holding her only seem to make her flinch. Haeyi didnât let this slide as she swiftly steps in front of her mother and lifted her blouse a little to show the bruises vividly edged onto her skin. Not just fresh bruises, but faded ones and also long-healed scars.
It hit the Lee siblings that without neither of them home most of the time, their mother probably endured the tyranny of her husband alone. This realisation only angers them even further, the rage shaking their irises and blurring their vision.
âI didnât know you owned property in Seoul,â Heeseung says, his voice tinged with curiosity as he finally takes in the full grandeur of the penthouse.
âYeah, well... Iâm in Seoul more often than youâd think,â Haeyi responds casually, shrugging off her coat. She kneels by their mother, gently tending to the cut on her lip.
âFather never really cared enough to know what I was doing.â She scoffs, her voice bitter. âHe can pretend I donât exist, but that doesnât mean I actually donât.â
Heeseungâs expression shifts almost instantly, guilt flooding his face. Her words must have hit something deep within him. âIâm sorry I let Dad send you away like that,â he says, his voice quiet, almost regretful. âI shouldâve stopped him.â
Haeyi freezes, her hand pausing mid-air as she dabs the antiseptic onto their motherâs wound. Sheâs been dreading this conversation for years, one that sheâs been replaying over in her mind, but one that she knows sheâll never truly be ready for no matter how many times sheâs rehearsed it.
âIt wouldnât have mattered anyway,â she sighs, resuming her work as their mother winces from the sting.
âNo, I shouldâve tried,â Heeseung insists, the weight of the years pressing on his chest. âInstead, I avoided you like the plague. I was scared you didnât want to talk to me after what happened. I figured you hated me for taking the position you worked your whole life for. I canât forgive myself for ruining your life.â
His words hit Haeyi like a wave, catching her off guard. She realises in that moment just how much guilt and turmoil her younger brother has been carrying all these years. Itâs trueâpart of her had resented never being placed on the same pedestal as Heeseung, but she never wanted him to feel this kind of burden. She wanted to protect him, to give him a world where he could thrive, not one where he felt isolated and guilty for things beyond his control. Yet, without knowing that the world he yearns for is one surrounded by the people he loves.
âHeeâŠâ she says softly, setting the cotton swab aside as she straightens up, meeting his eyes. âI would never hate you.â
Heeseung blinks in surprise, tears already welling up in his eyes. âYou donât?â
âDear heavens, no,â she laughs lightly, shaking her head. âYouâre my little brother, for fuckâs sake.â
âBut you never called back,â he murmurs, his voice cracking. âAfter all these years, we barely talked. I thought... maybe you hated me.â
âFather saw me as a distraction in your life,â she explains, her tone softening as she steps closer. âThatâs why he sent me away. If he knew I was trying to contact you, heâd have tightened his grip on you even more. I thought that if I worked hard enough, heâd see that I could be a good influence, that I belonged by your side. But it didnât matter. He just wanted me gone.â She takes a breath, her voice laced with guilt now. âIâm sorry I ghosted you, Hee. I just... after so long, I didnât know how to start a conversation with you anymore. As the older sister, I shouldâve tried harder. Iâm sorry.â
Heeseungâs composure finally cracks. The tears that have been pooling in his eyes spill over, and he quickly wipes at them with the back of his hand, embarrassed by the flood of emotion. But before he can say anything, Haeyiâs sisterly instincts kick in. She steps forward, brushing the tears from his cheeks with a gentle smile.
âSome things never change, though,â she teases, trying to lighten the mood. âYouâre still such a crybaby.â Her voice is warm, affectionate, the way it used to be when they were younger. Heeseung lets out a shaky laugh, playfully pushing her shoulder.
You watch silently from the sidelines, your heart swelling at the sight of the Lee siblings finally rekindling the bond that had been lost for so long. The pain of their past lingers in the air, but in this moment, they are healing, piece by piece. Theyâre not just brother and sisterâthey are two people rediscovering the love and understanding that had been buried beneath years of silence and hurt. This is the family they deserve.
Unknowingly, a lone tear slips down your cheek, and the soft sniffle that escapes you breaks the serene silence that has settled over the room. The sound draws the attention of the Lee siblings. Haeyi, finally having the capacity to acknowledge you, shifts her gaze towards you, her eyes narrowing slightly in curiosity.
âI donât think weâve met. Iâm Lee Haeyi,â she says, extending her hand politely, her expression warm yet inquisitive.
Caught off guard, you quickly wipe the tear away, offering a small, slightly embarrassed smile as you take her hand. âY/N. Iâve heard a lot about you,â you say, your voice soft but genuine. You give her hand a gentle tug before letting go.
âReally?â Haeyi raises an eyebrow, clearly surprised. âHeeseung actually talks about me?â
âDonât worry, Iâve only heard good things,â you reassure her with a light chuckle. âYouâd be surprised by how fondly he talks about you.â
Haeyi doesnât seem entirely convinced, her brow knitting slightly in scepticism. But she gives you a small nod, accepting your words. Itâs clear that your presence means something significant. The fact that Heeseung brought you into this intimate, painful family moment says a lot. The way heâs been holding your hand since the journey to Haeyiâs penthouse, the soft glances he keeps shooting your wayâitâs obvious that something deeper has blossomed between the two of you. Whatever it is, itâs enough for Heeseung to have opened up in a way he hadnât before.
Haeyi gives you a thoughtful look before turning her attention back to the situation at hand. âIâll take Mum to wash up,â she says, gently helping their mother to her feet. âSheâs still a bit shaken up and hasnât said a word since... everything. One thing this penthouse doesnât lack is rooms, so feel free to pick one and rest. Weâll meet up later in the evening to talk about what to do moving forward.â
Heeseung nods in agreement, his eyes flicking towards their mother. Thereâs a quiet concern on his face, a subtle mix of guilt and helplessness that makes your heart ache for him. Being the only son of the Lee family, the future heir to the Lee Group, carries a responsibility that seems to press down on him more than ever now. Even though heâs trying to remain composed, you can sense how overwhelmed he is by everythingâhis familyâs current predicament, the burdens of expectation, and the complex emotions that come with it all.
Youâre not faring much better yourself. Despite the fact that it's barely 8 AM, a wave of exhaustion crashes over you. The emotional weight of the past few hours feels heavier than the physical tiredness tugging at your eyelids. Youâd slept well the night before, cocooned in the safety of Heeseungâs arms, but it doesnât seem to matter now. The fatigue, both emotional and physical, is starting to take its toll.
As Haeyi gently helps their mother down the hallway, you catch Heeseungâs gaze. Thereâs a quiet understanding between you, no need for words. You can see the weariness in his eyes, the burden of all thatâs happened. You squeeze his hand gently, offering what little comfort you can.
Just as Haeyi said, the penthouse isnât short of rooms, yet somehow, you and Heeseung end up deciding to crash in one together, sharing the same bed. Itâs oddly familiar, considering you found yourselves in this same position just the night before.The key difference now is that things have changed between you. So it shouldnât surprise you that Heeseung is unapologetically showing his affection in increased frequencies now that youâre officially a couple.
You both sit on the bed, the room dimly lit by the soft glow of the city outside.Heeseungâs arms are wrapped securely around your waist, his chin resting on your shoulder blade as he holds you close from behind. You can feel the steady rhythm of his breathing, his warmth grounding you in the midst of everything. Sitting between his legs, you idly trace your fingers over his, feeling the subtle pressure of his grip as if heâs afraid to let go.
âHow are you holding up?â you ask quietly, breaking the silence. The question lingers in the air, heavy with unspoken emotions. Heeseung doesnât answer right away, and the silence that follows speaks volumes. Itâs not just that heâs unsure of how to respondâitâs that neither of you truly know how to process everything thatâs happenedâit all feels too surreal, like something out of a soap opera.
You can feel the weight of the situation pressing down on both of you, the gravity of it settling in now that the immediate danger has passed. You wonder if Heeseung feels the same; lost, confused, and maybe a little scared. Heeseungâs fingers twitch slightly under yours, a small movement, but enough to tell you that heâs deep in thought.
âI donât know,â he finally murmurs, his voice low and weary. âI keep thinking about Mum and Haeyi... what theyâve been through. I should have been there sooner.â His voice cracks slightly, betraying the emotions heâs trying so hard to keep in check.
You lean back into him, offering silent comfort as his grip on you tightens just a bit. âItâs not your fault, Hee,â you whisper, turning your head slightly to meet his gaze. âYou didnât know. And youâre here nowâthatâs what matters.â
Heeseung closes his eyes for a moment, resting his forehead against the side of your neck. âI just feel like Iâve failed them... as a brother, as a son. I shouldâve done something sooner.â His words are filled with regret, the weight of years of guilt finally surfacing.
You turn in his arms, shifting so you can look at him fully. The sadness in his eyes is raw, unfiltered, and it pulls at your heart. You cup his cheek gently, forcing him to meet your gaze. âYouâre not a failure, Heeseung. Youâre doing the best you can. Youâre here now, standing up for them. Thatâs more than enough.â
Heeseung doesnât respond with words this time. Instead, he presses his forehead against yours, his eyes closed as he takes in the comfort of your presence. You sit like that for a long time, wrapped up in each other, trying to find temporary reprieve from the chaos. Neither of you knows whatâs going to happen next, but for now, this is enoughâjust the two of you, holding on to each other for as long as your world doesnât fall apart.
Then, after what feels like forever, Heeseung speaks, breaking the peaceful silence but in a way that surprises you. His voice is quiet, almost hesitant, as if heâs unsure if this is the right time to bring it up. "I... got an email earlier. From our teacher," he says, his tone more serious than you expect.
You lean back slightly, giving him a curious look. "An email? Whatâs it about?"
He shifts a little, loosening his grip on you, but still keeping you close. âItâs about our submission,â he continues, glancing down as though heâs trying to find the right words. âYou know, the song we worked on together for class? The one we submitted for the project?â
Your mind instantly flashes back to the hours you spent working with Heeseung on that projectâhow focused he was, the quiet determination in his eyes, the way you both collaborated so easily. It was one of the things that brought you closer, but in the midst of everything going on lately, youâd almost forgotten about it.
âOh, right. What did the teacher say?â you ask, intrigued.
A small smile tugs at the corner of his lips, and for the first time today, thereâs a glint of excitement in his eyes. âShe said... weâve been selected in the top three. Our submission was one of the best.â
Your eyes widen in surprise. "Waitâreally? Top three?! Thatâs amazing, Hee!"
Heeseung nods, the smile on his face growing a little wider. "Yeah, itâs pretty insane. And... thereâs more. The school is hosting the annual festival soon, and she asked if we wanted to perform it live. You know, on stage.â
Your heart skips a beat, a mix of excitement and nerves swelling in your chest. Perform it live? In front of the whole school? The idea is both thrilling and terrifying at the same time.
"Perform it?" you echo, your mind racing with the thought of standing on stage, all eyes on the two of you. The piece you worked on was deeply personal, something that reflected both of your emotions and stories. The thought of sharing that with an audience feels daunting, but also exciting in a sense that you can finally express your true self in a way that wouldnât be judged or misinterpreted by the mass majority.
Heeseung watches you closely, as if trying to gauge your reaction. âWe donât have to, of course. I mean, itâs a big ask, especially with everything thatâs going on,â he says, his voice softening. âBut I thought... maybe it could be a good distraction. Something positive to focus on.â
You bite your lip, considering his words. Heâs right. Things have been so heavy lately, and maybe this could be the break you both needâsomething to look forward to. Plus, this could be a chance for Heeseung to show his musical inclinity and prove to his father and everyone else in school that would have thought otherwise wrong. Even if it made you a little nervous, the thought of doing it with Heeseung, after everything youâve been through together, feels like the perfect way to celebrate how far youâve come.
"I think... we should do it," you say, meeting his gaze. "Itâll be nerve-wracking, but we worked hard on that piece. We should share it."
Heeseungâs eyes brighten at your response, his smile returning. "You really think so?"
You nod, feeling a surge of excitement now that the idea is sinking in. "Yeah. Letâs do it, Hee.â
Heeseung pulls you closer, pressing a kiss to the top of your head, a soft laugh escaping his lips. âYouâre amazing, you know that?â
You laugh, leaning into him, feeling the warmth of his embrace. This is the thing about Heeseungâwhile others made you feel like you couldnât even be yourself around them, he does the opposite. With him, you feel completely comfortable in your own skin. Heeseung has this effortless way of calming you, knowing exactly what to say to pull you back from the brink whenever life becomes too overwhelming.
And thatâs exactly why youâre so determined to understand him in returnâbecause while the world expects so much from him, nobody really tries to see him the way you do. Where others overlook his struggles or dismiss his emotions, youâre committed to breaking down the walls heâs built, piece by piece, to uncover the person he really is.Â
This is the foundation of your relationshipâbuilt on trust and understanding, two things neither of you had truly known before meeting each other. Itâs more than just loveâitâs a deep connection rooted in mutual respect and the comfort of knowing youâve finally found someone who sees you for who you really are. That understanding, that unwavering trust, is what sets your relationship apart from anything youâve ever experienced.
You're pulled from your thoughts as Heeseung's warm breath grazes the back of your neck, followed by soft, feather-light kisses that send a shiver down your spine. His arms tighten possessively around your waist, and instinctively, you tilt your head, granting him more access. He trails slow, lingering kisses down the side of your neck, leading to your collarbone, the sensation causing your breath to quicken as though you'd been holding it in. Before you can even steady yourself, Heeseung flips you around effortlessly, pulling you down onto him as you both sink into the mattress.
His lips find yours, and in that moment, he takes complete control. His kisses fluctuate between soft and intense, as if he's testing the boundaries of tenderness and passion. Each touch is a careful balance, like he's holding the most delicate piece of glass in his hands. Heeseung suddenly shifts, flipping you onto your back as he hovers above you, the weight of his presence grounding you. You canât help but smile slightly as his hands trace over your body with delicate, almost reverent, movements. His fingers land on your waist, gripping you firmly as he deepens the kiss.
The familiar scent of teakwood and cigarettes fills the air around you, intoxicating everything in your system. The way his lips brush against your skin feels like he's worshipping a masterpiece, pouring out passion in cascades into every touch. It's in these moments that you feel how much he wants to give you the world, without words, just through the way he loves you. With that unspoken understanding between the two of you, it feels inevitable that things only escalate from here.
Youâre not sure what time it is, but the sun is just setting when a soft knock comes at the door. Heeseung stirs beneath you as you lie on his chest, wrapped comfortably in his arms. âHeeseung, itâs Haeyi,â you hear from the other side.Â
Heeseung gently shifts you, lifting your head as he carefully gets out of bed. Youâre awake, but after everything⊠you donât have the energy to move. Heeseung doesnât bother putting on a shirt, casually walking to the door in just his trousers. He opens the door slightly ajar, ensuring that you arenât in direct sight as you hide under the covers.
Haeyi, however, isnât easily fooled. She takes one look at her brotherâs state and pieces things together, though she doesnât make it obvious.
âItâs almost 7 PM,â she says with a slight raise of her brow. âAre you two planning to get up? We still have plenty to talk about.â
You hadnât realised youâd slept through most of the day; you donât even remember when you fell asleep. Missing both breakfast and lunch, you suddenly feel hunger gnawing at you, your stomach quietly reminding you.Â
âOh, and next time⊠can you keep it down?â Haeyi adds, her smile carrying a hint of playfulness. âIâm right next door.âÂ
Heeseung chuckles, clearly amused by his own arrogance. You find yourself sinking deeper into the covers, feeling a mix of embarrassment and frustration. Well, this is mortifying, you think. âWe better get dressed; theyâre waiting for us,â he reminds you, his tone light but with a hint of urgency.
Wrapping the duvet around yourself like a makeshift shield, you pull yourself from the warmth of the bed. Heeseungâs eyes sparkle with mischief as he takes in your flustered state. âWhy are you hiding? Itâs not anything I havenât seen,â he teases, his voice dripping with playful confidence. You react instinctively, almost launching a pillow in his direction, your heart racing at the sudden burst of emotion.
âHa ha, very funny,â you retort, your voice laced with a hint of embarrassment that betrays your otherwise carefree façade. You try to maintain a defiant expression, but the playful glimmer in Heeseung's eyes makes it difficult. He really is far too handsome for his own good; the way he smilesâhalf teasing, half charmingâsends a flutter of warmth through your chest. You feel your cheeks heat up, and despite your efforts to stay composed, you find yourself melting under his gaze, like ice cream in the sun. It's infuriating how effortlessly he has this effect on you, and you can't help but wonder how someone so alluring can be so irritatingly perfect.
Both of you hurry downstairs, your footsteps echoing softly in the quiet hallway. The anticipation hanging thick in the air. As you reach the dining room, you find Haeyi and Mrs. Lee seated at the table, picking at the dinner that the helpers have prepared. The rich aroma of grilled meats and fragrant rice fills the air, but the enticing scents do little to alleviate the tension that envelops the room. Mrs. Lee barely touches her utensils, her gaze distant and unfocused, as if sheâs physically present yet mentally miles away. A tight knot forms in your stomach as you notice the weariness etched on her face; her eyes carry a heavy burden that seems to shadow the warmth that once radiated from her.
âTook you two long enough,â Haeyi teases, her smirk attempting to lighten the mood, though it falls flat against the backdrop of strained emotions. Heeseung responds with an exaggerated roll of his eyes, the corners of his mouth twitching into a reluctant smile, but you can see the fatigue weighing on him as well.Â
âIâve been doing some digging,â Haeyi begins, her voice steady but laced with a simmering anger that you canât ignore. The change in her tone instantly captures your attention, and you lean in closer, sensing that something significant is about to unfold. âAnd I found something that could change everything.â
She explains that while she was working at their fatherâs company, she stumbled upon a hidden folder on his computer filled with documents detailing unethical business practices. Your heart races as you process her words, each revelation more shocking than the last. There are records of bribery, embezzlement, and evidence of their father exploiting workers in foreign countries. The implications of her discovery send chills down your spine, and a sense of dread creeps in as you consider what this could mean for all of you.
âThis could ruin him,â Haeyi states, her expression a mix of determination and fear as she looks at her family, her eyes darting between Heeseung and their mother. âAnd I think itâs time we expose the truth.â
Heeseungâs gaze shifts to the flash drive resting on the table, then back to his sister, a storm of conflicting emotions playing out on his face. âAre you sure about this? Itâs dangerous.â
Haeyi nods firmly, her voice unwavering. âIâm sure. Heâs hurt us for too long, and heâs hurting others with his greed and corruption. We canât let him get away with it.â You can see the fire in her eyes; it ignites a flicker of hope within you, but it is quickly overshadowed by the fear of what could come next.
You place a comforting hand on Heeseungâs shoulder, feeling the tension radiating from him. âSheâs right, Heeseung. This is your chance to make things right.â Your words are intended to soothe, yet youâre painfully aware of the stakes involved. The thought of taking such a monumental step sends your mind spinning.
âNo, we canât do that,â Mrs. Lee suddenly interjects, her voice trembling but resolute. Her eyes widen in disbelief, and you can see the desperation etched across her features, as if sheâs holding onto the fragile hope that things can remain unchanged.
âButââ Haeyi starts, frustration bubbling to the surface.
âI said no. How could you even bring this up, Haeyi? I didnât raise you to turn your back on family.â Mrs. Leeâs voice wavers, a mix of fear and protectiveness flooding her words, as if she believes that exposing their father will fracture what little family they have left.
âFamily? If you can even call whatever we have a family,â Haeyi snaps back, her anger flaring. Itâs evident that the years of pent-up resentment have reached a boiling point, and her words cut through the tension like a knife.
âWe share the same blood, the same genes, we live under the same roof; of course weâre family!â Mrs. Lee insists, but thereâs a desperation in her voice that reveals her own doubts about what family means to them.
âWhen was the last time the four of us had a proper meal together? When was the last time Father ever took a day off to celebrate any of our birthdays? Mum, the two of you donât even sleep in the same room! But of course weâre family; we have to tolerate all this shit!â Haeyiâs voice rises with each word, passion coursing through her as she fights for what she believes is right.
âFamilies are homes, Mum. Homes built on a foundation of trust and love. A toxic family can never be a home, no matter how hard you or Dad try to make us look like a happy family on the surface. Calling this a family doesnât make it a loving home.â The conviction in Haeyiâs words resonates deep within you.
âAt least we have a home to go to, Haeyi,â Mrs. Lee protests softly, her voice trembling with the weight of years of silence and compliance.
âNo, Mum. Having a home isnât just about coming back to a warm bed; itâs about where you feel safe with the people you love and who love you. Do you love him, Mom?â Haeyi's words are fierce, a declaration of her refusal to accept anything less than the truth and the love they all deserve. You feel a swell of admiration for her bravery, but you canât help but worry about the potential fallout from this confrontation.
Mrs. Leeâs gaze drifts to the table, her hands trembling as they grip the edge, knuckles paling under the pressure. The weight of Haeyiâs words hangs in the air, suffocating and unyielding, and you can see the internal struggle playing out on her face.
Does she love him? The easy answer isâno. After everything heâs done to this family, how could she have even an ounce of love for him? Yet, she looks torn, caught between the life she has lived, steeped in denial, and the truth that threatens to unravel it all.
âDo you really think this will make things better?â Mrs. Leeâs voice is barely above a whisper, tinged with vulnerability. The cracks in her façade begin to show, revealing a mother who has long since buried her own fears and desires beneath layers of duty and expectation. âWhat if this only tears us apart more?âÂ
Haeyi takes a step closer, her expression softening slightly, and you can see the empathy in her eyes. âMum, we canât keep pretending. We canât ignore the harm heâs causing, not just to us, but to others too. If we donât do something, weâre complicit in his actions.â Thereâs a fierce determination in her voice, a call to arms that seems to echo in the silence of the room.
Mrs. Lee looks at her daughter and then at her son, and for a fleeting moment, you can see the ghost of the woman she once wasâthe vibrant mother who laughed freely and cherished every moment with her children. But now, the fear of what their father could do looms over her like a dark cloud.
âHaeyi,â she begins, her voice cracking, âI just want to protect you both. Iâve spent so long trying to keep this family together. What if exposing him only makes things worse?âÂ
You watch as Haeyiâs shoulders sag slightly, her defiance wavering for a brief moment. Itâs clear how deeply Mrs. Lee cares, but itâs equally evident that her definition of protection has become tainted by the toxic environment theyâve endured.Â
âSometimes protecting us means letting us fight for ourselves,â Heeseung speaks up, his tone steady, laced with conviction. âI know itâs terrifying, but we canât stay silent any longer. We deserve to live without fear, Mum.âÂ
Mrs. Leeâs eyes shimmer with unshed tears, and the tension in the room shifts, transforming into something almost fragile. She inhales deeply, her chest rising and falling as she contemplates the enormity of what Haeyi is suggesting. The thought of exposing her husband terrifies her, but so does the thought of watching her children suffer in silence.Â
âAlright,â she finally says, her voice quivering but resolute.
The relief that washes over Haeyi is palpable, and you feel a rush of gratitude towards Mrs. Lee. Haeyi nods, her eyes brightening as hope begins to blossom in the midst of despair. âThank you, Mum. I promise weâll be careful.â
Mrs. Lee wipes away a tear, her expression a mixture of fear and determination. âIâll help in whatever way I can,â she murmurs, her voice barely audible. âBut we must tread carefully. If your father finds outâŠâÂ
The room falls into a tense silence as Mrs. Leeâs words hang in the air, each of you keenly aware of the risk ahead. Heeseung sits up straighter, his gaze sharpening with resolve as he looks between his sister and you. The gravity of what theyâre about to undertake sits heavily, but thereâs also a quiet strength that seems to unite the four of you.
âWe need to be smart about this,â Heeseung says, his voice low but steady. âIf weâre going to expose him, we canât leave any room for mistakes. Heâll fight back the moment he suspects anything.â
Haeyi nods, her face set with determination. âIâve already got copies of the documents from Dadâs computerâbribery records, offshore accounts, everything. But weâll need more than just paperwork to take him down. We need proof.âÂ
âProof?â you ask, your curiosity piqued. âMore than what we already have?âÂ
âYes,â Heeseung says, locking eyes with you. âWe need proof that ties him directly to the illegal practices.ââ
âI know a couple of people from when I worked in the PR department,â she adds. âWeâll have to be discreet, but if we give them enough to work with, it could be explosive. Dadâs reputation is everything to him. If it crumbles, so does his empire.â
âItâs not that easy,â Mrs. Lee interjects, her voice laced with concern. âYour father has eyes and ears all over the city. That includes the media and TV stations. If word gets out to the wrong people, all our hard work will be for nothing. This could be buried without enough evidence to support our claim.â
Heeseung hums, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. âThere are a few journalists that comes to mind whoâd jump at the chance to take down someone like our father. We just need to make sure theyâre not on his payroll.â He shoots a glance at Haeyi, who nods in agreement.
Mrs. Lee shifts uncomfortably in her seat, her hands clutching the edge of the table. âAnd what happens to us? If he fights backâif he finds out before weâre readyâhe wonât just go after the company. Heâll come after us.â
Heeseung places a hand over his motherâs, his touch gentle but firm. âWe wonât let him hurt you, Mum. Not anymore.â
A spark of courage flickers in Mrs. Leeâs eyes as she looks at her son and daughter, seeing in them a strength she hadnât recognised before. âAlright,â she says, her voice steadier now. âWeâll do it. But we need a planâsomething airtight.â
Haeyi takes a deep breath, leaning forward with renewed purpose. âWeâll start by gathering everything we haveâthe documents, any witnesses we can trust. Iâll keep digging through the files, see if thereâs anything else that could help. In the meantime, we need to be careful about who we talk to. No one can know what weâre planning.â
Heeseung nods in agreement. âIâll reach out to the journalists, see whoâs willing to work with us without tipping off Dad. And we should prepare for the worst. If things go south, we need an escape route. We canât let him corner us.â
You watch the Lee family work together, a sense of unity beginning to take root among them. For so long, their fatherâs power had fractured their family, but now, it feels like theyâre beginning to reclaim something that was lost.
You take a glance over the whole room, feeling the gravity of your own commitment.This doesnât go unnoticed by Mrs. Lee as she exhales, her expression a careful blend of fear and determination as she looks at you. âThis is dangerous, Y/N,â she says softly, her eyes full of concern. âIf things go wrong, youâll be affected too. Donât feel obligated to involve yourself.â
Heeseung places a reassuring hand on the small of your back, his touch gentle but protective. âSheâs right,â he murmurs, his gaze searching yours. âYou donât have to do this if you donât want to, Y/N.â
You feel a swell of emotions rise in your chest, and you hold his gaze steadily. âAre you kidding me?â you reply, your voice filled with quiet resolve. âWe promised weâd face everything together. Unfortunately for you, Iâm not in the habit of breaking promises.â
A small smile tugs at Heeseungâs lips, his eyes softening at your words. Thereâs a deep warmth in the moment, a shared understanding that this is no longer just his battle, but one youâre willing to fight alongside him.Â
Over the following days, each of you moves with purpose, careful to avoid suspicion. It feels like living under a constant shadow, knowing that every wrong step could alert Mr. Lee and ruin everything.
Haeyi spends most of her time sifting through more of her fatherâs files, finding hidden details in encrypted folders that she carefully unearths. You often find her in the study, hunched over her laptop, her fingers flying across the keys as she meticulously sorts through every document that could potentially bring down the empire her father built.
Heeseung is busy with his own part of the plan, contacting journalists he trusts through secure channels. Each conversation is brief, coded, and without any personal identifiers. They canât afford to leave a trace, especially with the knowledge that Mr. Lee has eyes and ears in every corner of the city. You sit beside him during some of these calls, listening as he negotiates and arranges for meetings in discreet locations, ensuring the right people are in place when the story breaks.
As for you, you stay close to Heeseung, your role more about support and being his own personal cheerleader.
The plan was nearly flawless, except for one crucial piece: the direct evidence tying Mr. Lee to his illegal practices. They had everything elseâfiles, records, testimoniesâbut without something definitive, it wouldnât be enough to take him down. And no matter how much Haeyi combed through their fatherâs encrypted folders, she couldnât find it.
âWe need something that puts him at the center of this,â Heeseung said, pacing the room. âItâs all buried in his office. Thatâs where the real evidence is.â
âHe probably revoked our access after that fight,â Haeyi added, glancing at her brother. âThereâs no way we can just walk in there and search his office.â
Heeseung pauses mid-step, considering the next move. His brow furrows as the weight of the situation settles over him. âWe donât need accessâwe need someone who can get the information for us.â
âIs there anyone else in the company who could back us up?â you ask, trying to think strategically. âSomeone whoâs seen what heâs been doing but might be too scared to speak out alone?âÂ
Mrs. Leeâs gaze lifted, her brows furrowed with concern. âWho would take that risk? If your father finds outââ
Haeyi purses her lips, her mind racing through possibilities. âThereâs Mr. Kimâheâs been in the company for years, but heâs always been overlooked and mistreated by Dad. He might help if he knew we had solid evidence. And maybe a few others whoâve seen too much to deny, but weâd have to be careful. If anyone leaks this to DadâŠâ
Mrs. Lee cuts in, her voice rising with frustration. âYou donât even know if Mr. Kim would be willing to help. Heâs one of your fatherâs most trusted executive. Why would he risk his job, or his family, to side with us? Heâs got children of his own to think about.â
Her worry is palpable, and you can sense how torn she is between her fear of what could happen and her desire to see justice done. You canât help but feel a pang of sympathy for herâsheâs been living under this oppressive shadow for so long, itâs hard to imagine any way out.
Heeseung, however, remains resolute. âMr. Kim is a good man. Heâs always been righteous. If given the chance, I believe heâd choose to do the right thing.â He glances at his mother, his voice softening. âHeâs not like Dad. He wonât turn a blind eye if he knows whatâs really going on.â
Heeseung stands in the dimly lit cafĂ©, his fingers tapping anxiously on the table, eyes flicking to the door every few seconds. The soft hum of conversation and the rich aroma of freshly brewed coffee fill the air, but none of it soothes his nerves. He knows this meeting could make or break everything. Convincing Mr. Kim to help them is a long shot, but they didnât have a choice. They need him.
The door swings open, and Heeseung's heart skips a beat. His eyes lock onto the older man stepping inside. Mr. Kim, with his greying hair and tired expression, moves cautiously, his eyes scanning the room before settling on Heeseung. Heeseung can see the hesitation in his faceâthe reluctance. But he came, and that means something.
Heeseung rises as Mr. Kim approaches, offering a nod of acknowledgement. "Thanks for coming," he says, his voice low, gesturing to the seat opposite him.
Mr. Kim sits down cautiously, folding his hands neatly on the table. "I donât usually get invited to meet with you outside of work, Heeseung," he remarks, a trace of suspicion lining his words. "Whatâs this about?"
Heeseung takes a deep breath, feeling the weight of what he's about to ask. He knows Mr. Kim wonât jump at the chance to betray his father. Years of loyalty, of being overlooked and mistreatedâyet Mr. Kim has never wavered. But this is different. What Heeseung is asking for isnât just help; itâs a betrayal of everything Mr. Kim has ever known.
"I need your help, Mr. Kim," Heeseung begins, leaning forward slightly, his voice low and serious. "And I know this is asking a lot, but we donât have anyone else we can trust."
Mr. Kimâs expression hardens. "Help with what, exactly? Iâm not sure I follow."
Heeseung hesitates for a moment before continuing. "Itâs about my father. We know what heâs been doingâthe bribery, the embezzlement, everything. Weâve got most of the evidence, but weâre missing the one thing that ties him directly to it. And thatâs in his office."
Mr. Kimâs eyes widen slightly, and he shifts uncomfortably in his seat. "Youâre asking me to go against your father? You do realise what youâre asking me to do, right?â His voice drops, barely above a whisper. "If he finds out I helped youâ""
"I know itâs dangerous," Heeseung interrupts, his voice firm but tinged with desperation. "I wouldnât be asking if there were any other way. But this isnât just about me or Haeyi. This is about everyone heâs hurt. The workers, the people whoâve lost everything because of him. Youâve seen it, havenât you?"
Mr. Kimâs gaze drops to the table, his fingers twitching slightly. "Iâve seen more than I should have," he admits quietly. "But itâs not that simple, Heeseung. Your father... heâs powerful. If he finds out I helped you, it wonât just be me who pays the price."
Heeseung clenches his fists, fighting the urge to snap. He knows Mr. Kimâs fear is valid. His father isnât someone who forgives betrayal easily, and the consequences could be severe. But thereâs no turning back now.
"Youâve worked for my father for years, Mr. Kim," Heeseung says, his voice softening, searching for some connection. "Youâve seen how he treats people like theyâre disposable. How he exploits anyone he can to get what he wants. Do you really want to keep being part of that? Or do you want to finally do something about it?"
For a moment, Mr. Kimâs jaw tightens, his expression hard and unreadable. Silence stretches between them, but then his eyes flicker with somethingâregret, perhaps. His voice cracks when he speaks. "Iâve given everything to this company," Mr. Kim says quietly, his voice strained. "Years of my life, all while knowing it was built on corruption. Iâve turned a blind eye because I needed this job. I needed to survive."
Heeseung senses the shift in Mr. Kim, the internal conflict weighing heavily on him. "Iâm not asking you to do this alone," Heeseung adds, his tone softer now. "Weâre in this together. My sister, my mother, Y/N... Weâre all trying to take him down. But we canât do it without you."
Mr. Kim looks away, his shoulders sagging under the weight of the decision. Heeseung waits, the seconds dragging on, heart pounding in his chest. Finally, after what feels like an eternity, Mr. Kim exhales a long, resigned sigh. His gaze meets Heeseungâs again, but this time, thereâs a flicker of something different in his eyesâacceptance, maybe even resolve.
"What exactly do you need me to do?" Mr. Kim asks, his voice quieter now, but steady.
Heeseung exhales, unaware he'd been holding his breath. "We just need something substantial to prove his involvement in the companyâs corruption. Messages, sign-offs, anything. We suspect itâs hidden in that drawer on the bottom left of his desk. The one thatâs always locked."
Mr. Kimâs face tightens at the mention of the drawer. "You want me to sneak into your fatherâs office and get it? Are you crazy?"
"I know itâs a big ask," Heeseung replies, keeping his tone even. "I would do it myself, but after the confrontation with my father, Iâm sure heâs revoked our access. Youâre the only one who can help us pull this off. If something goes wrong, Iâll take the blame. You wonât be implicatedâIâll make sure of that."
Mr. Kim stares at him, his expression unreadable for a moment. Then, slowly, he leans back in his chair, rubbing a hand across his face. "This could ruin me, Heeseung," he murmurs, almost to himself.Â
Heeseungâs chest tightens with hope. "Youâll be doing the right thing," he says, his voice firm. "Youâll be helping so many people."
Mr. Kim doesnât answer immediately, but after a beat, he gives a short, sharp nod. "Iâll help you. But we have to be carefulâyour father will destroy us if we make one wrong move."
"Iâll contact you with the details, and weâll figure out the best time to move."
Mr. Kim stands, his movements slow and deliberate. He looks at Heeseung one last time, the weariness in his eyes now mingled with something elseâa flicker of hope, perhaps. "Youâve got guts, kid. I just hope itâs enough."
"He'll help us," Heeseung had said earlier that night, his voice carrying a mix of relief and unease. You could see the tension still clinging to him, though the weight of getting Mr. Kim on board had lifted some of the pressure. Haeyi and Mrs. Lee both let out deep breaths, visibly relieved. With Mr. Kim on board, you now have someone inside the company to corroborate the evidence Haeyi has gathered, and if all goes well tonight, he would arrive before midnight with the last crucial piece of evidence you need.
The four of you sit in tense silence, waiting. The clock on the wall ticks steadily, but your heartbeats seem to race in comparison. Every minute feels like an eternity.
"Why isnât he here yet?" Mrs. Leeâs voice breaks the silence. It's 12:01. She paces back and forth, her worry mounting with each step. "What if he changed his mind? What if somethingâs gone wrong? What if he got caught?" Mrs. Leeâs voice is tight with anxiety as she paces back and forth across the living room floor, her steps growing more frantic with each passing second.
Heeseung, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, glances at his phone for the hundredth time, his jaw clenched. He hasnât said much since the clock struck midnight, but the tightness in his posture betrays his nerves. His fingers tap anxiously against the edge of his phone, as if willing it to light up with some message from Mr. Kim.
Heeseungâs jaw tightens, his hands clasped together on his lap, knuckles white. "Heâll be here," he says, but thereâs an edge of doubt creeping into his tone.
"Maybe something came up," you say, trying to sound reassuring, though the unease in your voice is hard to mask. "We shouldnât panic just yet."
Haeyi is sitting on the edge of the sofa, her arms wrapped tightly around herself, eyes glued to the door as if she can will it to open. "What if something did happen? Heâs putting everything on the line for this. He must know the risks."
You sit beside them, trying to remain calm, but the tension is thick, suffocating almost. Mrs. Leeâs pacing grows more frantic, and you can see the fear in her eyes. Every scenario, every worst-case outcome flashes through your mind: Mr. Kim being caught, interrogated, maybe even worse.
The silence that follows is oppressive, broken only by Mrs. Leeâs soft murmurs of worry and the occasional creak of the floor as she paces. "We shouldn't have involved him," she whispers, voice cracking with guilt. "If something happens to him, it's on us. I shouldâve stopped this. Iâ"
"He knew what he was getting into," Heeseung cuts in, though his voice wavers. "He made his choice."
00:10
The knot in your stomach tightens. Every passing minute feels like a countdown to something terrible. The air in the room feels thick with dread, and no one knows what to say.Â
Suddenly, there's a knock at the door. Itâs soft, almost hesitant.
Everyone freezes.
For a moment, no one moves, too stunned by the sudden sound. Heeseung is the first to react, standing up abruptly. His eyes flicker to the door, a mixture of hope and fear flashing across his face. Without a word, he moves toward it, his footsteps unnervingly slow, as if heâs bracing himself for whatâs on the other side.
âIs it him?â Haeyi whispers, her voice barely audible.
Heeseung pauses for a second before gripping the door handle. He opens it just enough to peer out into the dimly lit hallway. Relief floods his features as he pulls the door open wider, and there stands Mr. Kim. His face is pale, beads of sweat visible on his brow, but heâs holding a small, leather-bound folder tightly in his hands.
"You got it?" Heeseung asks, his voice barely above a whisper.
Mr. Kim nods, stepping inside. "I got it," he says, his voice heavy with exhaustion. "But we donât have much time. He knows."
Heeseungâs heart skips a beat. He grabs Mr. Kim by the arm, pulling him quickly into the apartment. The door shuts with a soft click behind them, but the tension is suffocating. Heeseungâs mind races, torn between the relief of seeing Mr. Kim and the dread of knowing theyâre now against the clock.
"How much does he know?" Heeseung demands, his voice low but urgent.
Mr. Kim swallows hard, wiping the sweat from his brow with a trembling hand. "Enough," he says. "He doesnât know everything, but heâs suspicious. His office was searched after I left. I managed to get this before they could lock everything down, but theyâre on alert now. Itâs only a matter of time before they put two and two together."
Heeseungâs hands tighten into fists. The relief of having the evidence in front of him quickly fades, replaced by a gnawing anxiety. His father is one step ahead. He always is.
"Show me," Heeseung says, gesturing to the folder.
Mr. Kim hesitates for a moment, his eyes flickering with uncertainty. Then, with a sigh, he sets the folder on the coffee table and opens it. Inside are stacks of papersâcontracts, emails, signed authorisationsâall bearing the unmistakable signature of Heeseungâs father. There are financial records that detail bribes paid to government officials, money laundered through shell companies, and proof of embezzlement from the companyâs funds. Itâs all there, laid out in black and white.
Mr. Kim sorts them out, explaining every incriminating document as he goes. âI even found a ledgerâyour fatherâs private records. It ties him to everything. Thereâs no way he can wriggle out of this.â
Heeseung stares at the documents, his chest tightening. Itâs worse than he imagined. Far worse.
"How did you get all of this?" Heeseung asks, his voice tight with disbelief.
Mr. Kimâs expression darkens. "Iâve known about most of it for years. I just didnât have the courage to do anything about it. Your father⊠heâs ruthless. I didnât think there was a way out. But tonight, I knew this was the only chance Iâd get. If I didnât act now, I never would."
Heeseung looks at Mr. Kim, his emotions a turbulent storm of gratitude and guilt. Mr. Kim risked everythingâhis career, his family, his life. "Thank you," he says softly, but the words feel insufficient.
Mr. Kim shakes his head. "Donât thank me yet. Weâre not out of this. We still need to get this to the authorities without them tracing it back to us. If your father finds outâŠ"
"He wonât," Heeseung cuts in. "Weâre going to be smart about this. Weâll get these documents to someone who can take him down without giving us away."
Mr. Kimâs hand lingers on the folder for a second before he releases it entirely. He looks at Heeseung, his voice quieter now. âIâve done my part. But from here on out, itâs on you. If he finds out I helped⊠I donât know what heâll do.â
Heeseung meets his gaze, gratitude and guilt swirling in his eyes. âYou wonât be dragged into this. Iâll make sure of it.â
Mr. Kim hesitates, then gives a short nod, the weight of his decision hanging heavily in the room. âGood luck. Youâre going to need it.â
With that, he turns and quietly leaves, the door closing behind him with a soft click, leaving the four of you alone with the evidence that will determine everything.
Thereâs a long silence before Haeyi speaks, her voice steady but filled with emotion. âThis is it, isnât it? The end of him.â
Heeseung nods, still staring down at the documents in his hand. âYeah. This is it.â
But as the weight of their next steps sets in, the relief is quickly replaced by a new kind of pressureâwhat to do with the evidence, and how to protect it from the reach of their father before itâs too late. Itâs a maddening conundrum. If this gets out into the world, their father, Mr. Lee, will undoubtedly be labelled a criminal, his reputation shattered. But what about them? His wife, his childrenâthey wonât be hailed as heroes. Theyâll be branded as traitors, as unfilial gold diggers, condemned for betraying the empire their father built.
The bitter truth of the elite world is that family comes secondâalways. No matter how toxic, how broken, the image of power, of wealth, must remain untarnished. The empire must be protected at all costs. Itâs a vicious cycle, one that makes you wonder if any of this is worth it. Itâs as if the happiness and wellbeing of these families, their humanity, doesnât matter. Not in the grand scheme of things. Not when thereâs money to be made, power to be held. Because money, in their world, solves everything.
Except for broken, dysfunctional families. That, it seems, is the one thing all the wealth in the world canât fix.
Heeseung knows this too well. His entire life, heâs watched as his father prioritised his empire over everythingâover his children, over his wife. Even now, with everything on the line, he realises that exposing his father wonât just topple a man; it will destroy everything their family has ever known. The shame, the disgraceâit will cling to them, shadowing their every move.
But what other choice do they have? Living under the weight of his fatherâs corruption, his cruelty, isnât living at all. Itâs suffocating. And Heeseung refuses to let his family drown in it any longer, no matter the cost.
This realisation brings a sharp, painful clarity. The path theyâve chosen isnât just about justiceâitâs about survival.
Each of them knows the gravity of what theyâre about to do. The consequences will ripple far beyond this room, reshaping their lives in ways none of them can fully predict. But thereâs no turning back now. They place their trust in a single journalistâa woman with a reputation for honesty, someone who has no loyalty to their fatherâs empire, someone who could, perhaps, be the final nail in Mr. Leeâs coffin.
It feels like the longest few days of their lives. Every phone call, every passing hour drags on, thick with anticipation and fear. Mrs. Lee hardly sleeps, her nerves keeping her on edge. Haeyi paces constantly, biting her nails, her thoughts a swirl of emotions. Heeseung withdraws into himself, barely speaking, his mind focused solely on the outcome. You watch them, feeling the weight of their tension, knowing the truth of what youâre all doing, knowing the truth of what will come. You tell yourself itâs the right thing. It has to be.Â
Then, it happens.
The morning feels surreal, as though time itself has slowed. You sit together at the dining table, the family on edge, staring at the untouched breakfast before you. In the centre of the table is a single newspaper, its headline in bold black letters screaming at you:
Billionaire Exposed: Business Tycoon Leeâs Corruption Scandal Unveiled!
The world stops.
You canât take your eyes off it. Everythingâs thereâthe embezzlement, the offshore accounts, the bribery, the exploitation. Itâs all laid out in damning detail, backed by the evidence Mr. Kim risked his life to secure. Every secret Mr. Lee had worked so hard to bury is now exposed, printed for everyone to see. The impact is immediate. News outlets begin picking up the story, and within hours, itâs all anyone is talking about. Mr. Leeâs reputation is in tatters, his empire crumbling as the scandal spreads like wildfire.
Your heart pounds, a mix of relief and disbelief. Itâs real. Youâve done it. The truth is out.Â
Mrs. Lee trembles as she holds the newspaper, her eyes scanning the front page over and over again. Her face is pale, and she looks⊠hollow, as though a piece of her has been torn away. Itâs one thing to know her husband was corrupt; itâs another to see it splashed across every headline, his name synonymous with greed and deceit. Her hands shake, and she whispers to no one in particular, âThis⊠this is our life now, isnât it?â
You say nothing. What is there to say? This is their new reality.Â
Heeseung sits beside you, staring at the paper with cold, unreadable eyes. He doesnât say a word, his jaw clenched tight. His fingers twitch, and you can see the strain in his expression. This is what heâs fought for, what heâs wantedâbut thereâs no victory in his face. Just exhaustion. Bitterness.Â
But then, your eyes land on the photo plastered beneath the headline, and the weight of it hits you all at once. Itâs a grainy, hurried shot of Mr. Leeâtheir fatherâcaught at the airport, boarding a private jet.
He was going to leave.
The words echo in your mind, disbelief mixing with anger. He was really going to run. He was going to abandon his family, his empire, everything, and flee the country to save himself. The article confirms it in cold, brutal detail.
"Authorities apprehended Mr. Lee late last night as he attempted to flee the country. A private jet, destined for an undisclosed location, was halted at the last moment."
The silence in the room grows heavier, suffocating. No one moves. No one speaks. You can feel the betrayal thick in the air, as sharp and painful as a knife wound.
Haeyi breaks first. Her voice cracks as she speaks, a mixture of hurt and disbelief colouring every word. âHe was really going to leave us. He wasnât even going to fight⊠He justââ She doesnât finish. She doesnât have to.
Her words are like a slap to the face. Itâs not just about the money, or the business, or even the crimes. Itâs about family, about loyalty. Heeseung grips the edge of the table, his knuckles white, his whole body tense. You can see the pain in his eyes, hidden beneath the anger.Â
âHe never cared about any of us,â Heeseung mutters, his voice tight with barely contained rage. âHe was always going to save himself.â
You can see it nowâeverything Heeseung has always known, all the resentment heâs carried. Heâs known this truth for so long, but it doesnât make it hurt any less.Â
Mrs. Lee, who has been silent this whole time, finally speaks. Her voice trembles, so quiet you almost donât hear it. âWhat have we done?â Her eyes well with unshed tears, her whole body slumped forward as though the weight of the world is finally crashing down on her. âWeâve ruined everythingâŠâ
âWe didnât ruin anything,â Heeseung snaps, his voice harsher than intended. âHe did. Heâs the one who lied, the one who stole, the one who was going to leave us to deal with the fallout.â His voice softens slightly, but his anger doesnât waver. âWe did the right thing. We stopped him.â
But Mrs. Lee doesnât seem convinced. She looks broken, her world shattered in ways that canât be repaired. âOur name⊠our family⊠weâll never recover from this. People will always see us as part of his empire, part of his corruption.â
You reach for her hand, trying to offer some comfort, but thereâs little to say. Sheâs right. The world wonât be kind. People will talk. Theyâll judge. But the truth is out now, and thereâs no going back.
Heeseung stands abruptly, pushing his chair back. âWeâll figure it out,â he says, his voice more resolved now. âWeâll rebuild. But weâre free now. Weâre finally free from him.â
The room falls silent again, each of you left to your own thoughts. The reality of whatâs happened begins to sink in. Thereâs no easy way forward. Their lives are forever changed, tainted by their fatherâs choices. But thereâs also a strange kind of reliefâa sense that, for the first time in years, the weight of the lies and manipulation is gone.
You catch Heeseungâs eye, and in that moment, you both understand. It wonât be easy, but they have a chance nowâa chance to rebuild, to start over without the shadow of their father looming over them.
âWhat now?â Haeyi asks quietly, her voice barely more than a whisper.
Heeseungâs answer is firm, unwavering. âWe move on. We start over. Starting with Lee Group.â His words resonate with a quiet authority, and in that moment, you see itâthe Heeseung you knew before you truly knew him. The Lee Heeseung that isnât afraid to correct the teacher if given the opportunity. The Lee Heeseung who never fails to maintain perfect posture throughout 3-hour long lectures. The Lee Heeseung who becomes unresponsive and distant when the conversation veers away from academic topics. The Lee Heeseung who, if he sets his mind on something, can do anything.
"Sis, can you arrange a board meeting with all the stakeholders?" His voice is calm, but thereâs something weighing heavily on his mind.
Haeyi narrows her eyes at him, her frustration rising. "And do what? Take over as CEO? Lee Group is a guillotine right now, Heeseung. Youâre basically burying yourself alive!"
Heeseungâs eyes are sharp as they meet his sisterâs. Thereâs a calm certainty in his voice, a quiet intensity that makes you realise just how serious he is. âHaeyi, trust me.â
She stares at him, her anger simmering beneath the surface. "You're mad," she finally says, shaking her head. "You canât just walk into a board meeting and think youâll fix everything. Theyâre going to tear us apart. Theyâll expect blood, Heeseungâespecially after the scandal."
"I know," Heeseung replies, his voice steady. "But we canât let this company collapse. Too many people depend on itâthe employees, their families. Lee Group is a mess right now, but itâs still our responsibility. We have to stabilise it before it implodes."
Haeyi exhales sharply, her scepticism palpable. "Youâve always been so naive," she mutters, her arms tightening across her chest. "Dadâs wrecked this company from the inside out. Itâs not salvageable anymore, Heeseung. Itâs toxic. He used it as his personal piggy bank, and now itâs a sinking ship. How can you possibly think you can save it?"
"Iâm not trying to save it for him. Iâm doing this for usâfor Mum, for you. For everyone he hurt." Heeseung leans forward, his eyes burning with determination. "If we donât act now, the board will sell it off, piece by piece, to vultures who donât care about anything but profit. And once theyâre done, nothing will be left but rubble. Thatâs not what Lee Group was supposed to be."
Haeyiâs expression softens just slightly, her resolve cracking, but sheâs still sceptical. "You think you can convince the board to stay loyal after everything? After Dad? Theyâll want to distance themselves from us as fast as possible."
Heeseung straightens his posture, that familiar sense of control and certainty in every inch of his frame. âIâm going in with a plan. A real, tangible future for Lee Group. Something that isnât tainted by Dadâs mess."
"And you think theyâll listen to you?" Haeyi asks, her tone less biting now, more curious.
âI think theyâll listen when they see the plan we have,â Heeseung answers. âTheyâre scared right now. They need stability, a future. Thatâs what weâll give them.â
Haeyiâs eyes flicker with doubt and something deeperâfear, maybe. âAnd if they donât listen? If they laugh us out of the room?â
âThey will.â Heeseungâs certainty feels unshakeable, like a force of nature. âBecause weâre not just giving them empty promises. Weâre giving them a way out of this mess. And they know they need it.â
That night, Heeseung suggests a walk by the river, even though the weather is far from ideal. The cold bites at your skin, the wind whistling through the streets, but something about the way he asks makes you agree without hesitation. His hand slips easily into yours, fingers interlocking, and as you walk along the pavement, he swings your joined hands gently back and forth. Despite the chill, youâre surprised to find other couples strolling by the water, bundled up in scarves and coats, as if the cold is just a minor inconvenience in the face of romance. Thatâs the thing about Seoulâit has a way of feeling magical, no matter the season.
Heeseung glances at you, concern in his eyes as the wind whips around you both. "Are you cold? We can head back if you want." His voice is soft, almost hesitant, like heâs worried heâs dragged you out into the bitter night unnecessarily. Without letting go of your hand, he brings it up to his lips, blowing a warm breath over your chilled skin. The warmth is fleeting, but the gesture makes your heart swell.
You shake your head, a small smile tugging at your lips. "We can stay out here as long as you want, Hee."
Thereâs nothing grand in the statement, nothing extraordinary, but the way he looks at you in that momentâlike youâve just given him the worldâmakes you feel like maybe, just maybe, you have. His eyes soften, and for a heartbeat, the world around you fades away, leaving just the two of you standing by the river under the dim glow of streetlights, the cityâs hum in the background.
He stares at you like he canât quite believe youâre real, like heâs trying to figure out how he got so lucky. "What did I do to deserve you?" His voice is barely a whisper, filled with awe and affection.
"Now that I think about it, a lot. You saved your family and now youâre going to rebuild everything youâve lost. I might only be a small part of the future youâre about to build," you say with a shrug, trying to brush it off casually.
Heeseung stops walking for a second, his brow furrowing like heâs genuinely offended. "Small?" His voice holds an edge of disbelief. "Y/N, all youâve been is supportive. After everything thatâs happened these past few weeks, youâre anything but small in my life."
Your heart stumbles at his words. "HeeâŠ" you murmur softly, the affection in his voice catching you off guard.
But heâs not finished. He steps in closer, his eyes searching yours with an intensity that makes your pulse quicken. "You stood up for me when I couldnât even stand up for myself. You stepped in when everything with my family was falling apart, when you had no business being dragged into it. And still, you took it upon yourself to care."
"I know these past few days have been exhausting," Heeseung continues, his voice dropping, softer now, "and weâve barely had time to ourselves. But please, donât ever think you mean so little to me. Youâre more than you realise."
You never expect Heeseung to erupt into a passionate outburst, his emotions spilling over from something you said in passing, without much thought. Yet, in that moment, it becomes evident how crucial it is for him to make sure you understand just how much you mean to him. Thereâs no ambiguity, no room for misunderstandingâjust raw, unfiltered truth laid bare.
His words make your chest tighten, a mixture of emotions swirling inside you. Youâve been there for him because itâs who you are, because you care, but hearing him acknowledge it, with such raw honesty, sends a warmth rushing through you.
To think that the two of you went from almost strangers, standing on opposite sides of a smoke screen outside a shady club on the outskirts of the city, to taking down one of the countryâs most powerful businessmanâwho, as fate would have it, is also the father of your boyfriend. If you didnât know better, you might think this was a twisted plot pulled straight from a movie script.
Yet, itâs this very cinematic quality that you were able to come out on top with a happyâwell, decentâending. As you gaze at him, a gentle smile spreads across your face. You rise onto your tiptoes, closing the distance between you, and place a soft kiss on his lips. âYou do realise you canât take back what you said, right?â
âNever,â he responds, his voice steady, with an unwavering certainty that makes your heart flutter.
âEven if I jam myself into every inch of your life?â you tease, a playful glint in your eye.
He laughs, the sound rich and warm, his gaze never leaving yours. âYou are my life, Y/N. Itâs impossible to take up more space than you already do.â His cheesy remarks elicit a giggle from you, and you canât help but wonder how you ended up here.
âSo, what are you going to do now?â you ask, curiosity piqued. âI know you have a plan, but seeing how you didnât explicitly share that with Haeyi, youâre on to something, arenât you?â You reach up to smooth down the unruly strands of his hair that have been tousled by the wind, and as you do, he leans into your touch, basking in your affection.
âI canât get anything past you, can I?â He smirks, the glimmer in his eyes playful yet earnest.
âUnfortunately, no,â you reply, pinching his cheek teasingly as he pretends to flinch, his laughter ringing in the air like music.
Then, as the moment settles, he reveals his intentions with a quiet seriousness. âIâm giving up my position as next in line to Haeyi.â The weight of his words hangs in the air, and you pause, taking in the significance of what heâs just said. You know Heeseung has never coveted the CEO seat or even shown much interest in the company, but giving up his inheritance, especially at a time when it could mean so much to him, takes your breath away.
Every day, you find yourself gaining a new level of respect for Heeseung, for the depth of his convictions, and the integrity that drives him. âYou really mean that, donât you?â you murmur, your heart swelling with admiration.
He nods, the determination in his gaze unwavering. âItâs time for a new beginning for all of us. Haeyi deserves the chance to rebuild what our father destroyed. I canât be the one to hold her back.â
As you stand there, hand in hand with Heeseung, cold biting at your skin, but itâs the lump forming in your throat that makes it hard to breathe. The gravity of stepping down from a role that was meant to be his birthrightâit hits you differently now. This isnât just about the CEO title or control of the company. Itâs about shedding the expectations that have suffocated him for so long, the role he never wanted but was always forced to consider. Heâs choosing to step back from a life of power, of the very thing people kill for, all because it was never his to begin with. You can see the strain in his eyes, the quiet resolve that tells you heâs made peace with this, even if itâs not easy. And heâs doing it not out of fear or resignation, but out of choiceâan act of rebellion against a destiny someone else wrote for him.Â
Heâs still going to be part of Lee Group, still fighting for whatâs right, but on his own terms. No titles, no legacies, just Heeseungâdoing what heâs always wanted, not whatâs been expected of him.
âYou donât have to prove anything,â you whisper, knowing full well that he already knows that. Heâs not doing this to prove anything to anyoneânot to the board, not to his fatherâs shadow, and not even to you. Heâs doing it because, for the first time in his life, heâs free to choose.
And in that moment, the enormity of it overwhelms youâthe sheer selflessness of this decision, the way heâs choosing the harder path because itâs right, because itâs his. It breaks something in you, but itâs the kind of breaking that lets in the light, a raw mixture of heartbreak and pride swelling in your chest. You tighten your grip on his hand, silently promising that no matter where this choice takes him, youâll be right there beside him, just as heâs chosen to stand beside you.
#6 Our Way
The boardroom is cold and sterile, a sharp contrast to the tension thatâs palpable in the air. The table is lined with men and women, all in immaculate suits, all wearing expressions of scepticism and suspicion. Heeseung stands at the head of the table, his back straight, eyes focused on each member of the board. Haeyi sits beside him, her posture rigid, trying to exude the same confidence.
Heeseung begins. âI know why youâre all here. I know what youâre thinking.â His voice is calm but commanding. âAfter everything thatâs happened, youâre questioning the future of this company. Youâre worried about your investments, about the reputation thatâs been destroyed.â
Thereâs a murmur of agreement, low but present.
"But Lee Group is more than my fatherâs crimes. Itâs more than the mistakes he made. Itâs a legacy, and it can still be saved."
Heeseung begins detailing a strategic roadmap for rebuilding Lee Group. Itâs comprehensiveâfocusing on transparency, ethical leadership, and long-term recovery. His passion is evident in every word as he discusses restructuring, stabilising the company, and restoring the trust of their employees and stakeholders.
As he speaks, the board members listen, their expressions slowly shifting from guarded scepticism to consideration. But then, one of the older members interrupts, his voice edged with doubt.
âAnd youâll be leading this, Heeseung?â
Heeseung shakes his head. âNo. My sister, Haeyi, will.â
The room shifts. Thereâs a ripple of surprise, hushed whispers passing between the board members. Haeyi isnât an exception as the shock on her face is undeniable. She wasnât expecting thisânone of them were. âWhat are you talking about?â she asks, her voice low but trembling with disbelief.
"Youâre stepping down?" Haeyi repeats, her voice incredulous. "But⊠youâre the heir. Everyone knows itâs supposed to be you. The companyâ"
"Iâm not the right person to lead," Heeseung interrupts gently but firmly. "Not in the long run. Thatâs not where my strengths are. But you, Haeyi, youâve always had the vision, the understanding. Youâve worked alongside Dad, you know the business inside out, and you care about the people. Youâre what Lee Group needs."
Thereâs a long pause. Haeyiâs lips part slightly, but no words come out. You can see the internal struggle on her faceâdisbelief, fear, maybe even gratefulness, but also a flicker of something else. A deep-rooted sense of responsibility, of loyalty to the company her father ripped away from her.
"You canât be serious," she finally says, but her voice has lost its edge.
"I am," Heeseung replies.
"Youâre giving up your inheritance," Haeyi whispers, almost as if she canât believe it. "Your future."
Heeseung shrugs, but thereâs a softness in his gaze as he looks at her. "It was never about the title for me, Haeyi. You know that. I care about the people, about doing the right thing. But I donât need to be CEO to make a difference."
Haeyi looks at him for a long time, her mind racing as she processes his words. Then, slowly, her posture shifts. Sheâs not entirely convinced, not yet, but something in her is changing. You can see it, the way her shoulders relax just a fraction, the way her gaze softens.
Heeseung turns back to address the board, âShe knows this company better than anyone. Sheâs worked in nearly every department, she understands the operations, the people. And unlike me, sheâs been involved in the real decision-making, the day-to-day running of this place. I trust her to steer Lee Group in the right direction.â.
One of the older directors clears his throat, his scepticism clear in his tone. âWith all due respect, Heeseung, this is sudden, and weâve always seen you as the natural successor. Haeyi is⊠well, sheâs brilliant, no doubt, butââ
âBut sheâs a woman,â Heeseung finishes for him, his voice laced with steel. âThatâs what you were going to say, isnât it?â
The man shifts uncomfortably, though he doesnât deny it. Thereâs a murmur of agreement from a few others around the table, confirming that outdated thinking still lingers.
Heeseung takes a step forward, his voice growing stronger with every word. âI get it. Youâre used to seeing men at the helm of companies like this. But thatâs exactly why you need to listen. Lee Group needs new leadership, a fresh approach. And you all know that we canât afford to stick to the old ways. Not now.â
His eyes sweep across the room. âHaeyi is the best option. Sheâs been behind the scenes making decisions for years. And, unlike me, sheâs proven time and again that she can handle the tough, messy reality of what it means to run a company like this.â
Thereâs still resistance on some of their faces, a reluctance to break from tradition. But Heeseung presses on. âThis company is bleeding. Youâve seen the reports, the figures. We donât have time to keep playing it safe. You need someone whoâs capable, someone who knows how to rebuild and lead with strength. That person is Haeyi.â
He glances at his sister again, his eyes filled with an unshakable confidence in her. âI believe in her. And I think, deep down, you do too.â
âYou didnât have to do this,â she whispers, her voice trembling with emotion.
âI know,â he says softly. âBut I trust you. And I know you can do this.â
Finally, the chairman, an older man with a stern face, speaks. âHeeseung⊠this is a bold decision. And I wonât lieâthere are concerns. But,â he looks towards Haeyi, his expression softening just a fraction, âyouâve proven yourself before, Haeyi. Youâve been part of this companyâs backbone, even if your father never gave you the credit. Maybe this is what we need after all.â
All eyes turn to Haeyi now. She swallows, her heart pounding in her chest. This is her moment. You can see the fear in her eyes, but thereâs something stronger thereâdetermination
âLee Group is worth saving,â she says, her voice steady but growing stronger with every word. âNot because of the name, but because of what it represents for the people whoâve built it. I know the challenges ahead are immense, but I believe in this company, and I believe in the people behind it. If you give me the chance, Iâll prove it to you.â
The room falls silent. The weight of her words hangs in the air, thick with possibility. And slowly, one by one, the board members nod. Approval. Agreement. Theyâre willing to give herâand the companyâa chance.
Heeseung exhales a breath he didnât realise he was holding, relief washing over him. He turns to Haeyi, whose expression is still a mix of shock and disbelief.
Heeseung catches Haeyiâs eye, and for the first time in a long while, she allows herself to believe.
They might just be able to save it after all.
âAlright,â she says, addressing the board. âLetâs get to work.â
Backstage at the makeshift stage set up on the schoolâs football field, you fidget with your equipment, securing the mic pack tightly around your waist, nerves buzzing under your skin. The cold air nips at your face, but itâs nothing compared to the anxiety tightening in your chest. You and Heeseung had both nearly forgotten about thisâthe performance you agreed to do weeks ago, before everything fell apart with Mr Lee. The schoolâs annual festival seemed so trivial amidst the chaos of the last few weeks, yet here you are, moments away from singing the song you and Heeseung composed together.
Heeseungâs calm presence beside you feels like a lifeline. He steps in, his hands adjusting your in-ear monitors with a quiet confidence, his touch gentle but reassuring. "Hey, donât be nervous, youâll do great, princess," he murmurs, patting your head softly. His attempt to ease your tension helps, if only a little. You force a small smile in return, but you know no amount of soothing words, not even from Heeseung, will make the stage fright vanish.
Heeseung, on the other hand, looks surprisingly composed. His guitar rests casually in his hands, his face serene, as if heâs completely unfazed by the fact heâs about to perform live in front of the entire school. How does he always stay so calm? You wonder, glancing at him enviously as your heart races.
From the corner of your eye, you see your friends approaching. Chaewon, the first person you confided in about your relationship with Heeseung, pulls you into a warm embrace, her arms tight around you, a sharp contrast to the chill of the night air. Sakura and Yunjin follow, wrapping themselves around the two of you, their faces glowing with pride. The warmth of their bodies against yours, the quiet comfort in their hold, almost brings tears to your eyes. Nearby, Sunghoon and Jay greet Heeseung with knowing grins, their silent approval mirrored in the way they dap him up, casting proud glances at the four of you huddled together.
You think back to the moment you told them the truth. It was just a week after Heeseung had finally untangled himself from the chaos of the Lee Group, and you had sat them down, letting the weight of the secret youâd carried for so long spill into the open. Sakura was the first to shed a tear. You knew it wasnât just for you but for the burden she imagined you carrying. Sheâs always been an empath, and in that moment, you could see her putting herself in your shoes, imagining how it must have felt to wear a mask, even around the people you called friends. Her pain mirrored your own, and that realisation had her wiping at her eyes, almost embarrassed to let her emotions show.
Yunjin, on the other hand, wore her regret openly for days afterwards. You reassured her over and over again that none of it was her fault, but she couldnât shake the guilt. She had been the one dragging you out to parties, the one encouraging you to let loose, not knowing that behind your laughter was a part of yourself you were hiding. She blamed herself, even though you told her time and time again that it wasnât on her.
Chaewon had taken the news the hardest, though. You always knew she would. Out of the three, she was the one closest to you, the one who had always tried to be your safe space. And yet, even she hadnât known the truth. That cut her deep. She confessed to you that sheâd always had a feeling you were holding something back but never pressed. Maybe she should have. She hated herself for the times she let it slide, the times youâd disappear on nights out or drown yourself in drinks. She thought, maybe if sheâd pushed harder, you would have felt safe enough to tell her sooner.
But despite all the guilt and regret, the love you feel for them hasnât wavered. If anything, itâs stronger now, standing in this moment, feeling their support surround you. You think back to how it felt, carrying the secret alone, pretending to be someone you werenât even around your closest friends. And now, here they are, holding you close, knowing everything, and loving you just the same. It hits you thenâmaybe all the effort you put into concealing this part of yourself wasnât really about them at all. It was about convincing yourself that no one could love the real you. And now, in their arms, you realise how wrong you were.
Then, the moment youâve been dreading arrives. The MC calls your names, and suddenly youâre being ushered onstage by the crew. Panic grips you as you barely get a chance to check if your makeupâs still intact after all the anxious sweating youâve been doing backstage. The lights are blinding as you step into the open, the cold air now mingling with the heat of the spotlight, making you feel light-headed.
"Hey Decelis, my name is Heeseung and this is Y/N," Heeseung announces, his voice steady and strong as he takes the lead. Youâre gratefulâyour lips feel like theyâre glued shut with nerves, your throat dry as you try to swallow the tension.
"Ah, Heeseung and Y/N! I hear the two of you have built quite the reputation here at Decelis," the MC smirks, there he goes again trying to start shit.
Heeseung chuckles lightly, ever the charmer. "Yeah, I guess you could say that."
The MC turns his attention to you, his tone teasing. "What about you, Y/N? Any comments? Looks like the catâs got your tongue."
"Mind your own damn business," you blurt out, the words harsher than you intended. But with the combination of nerves and now the jibes of the MC, youâre not that surprise that you snapped.Â
"Whoa, looks like weâve got a feisty one here!" the MC laughs, brushing it off. "Anyway, I heard you two are performing an original song? Tell us more about it."
Heeseung steps in with a calm smile. "Yeah, itâs called âOur Way.â Itâs a love song, but more than that, itâs about two people who are determined to be together, no matter what life throws at them. Itâs about pushing past the barriers and stereotypes that try to keep them apart, and instead, finding their own path. Itâs about choosing each other, no matter how hard that might be."
His words hang in the cold night air, and for a moment, the weight of everything youâve both been through lingers between youâfalse identities, family drama, corporate ruin, and yet, here you both stand, side by side. You glance at him, feeling a sudden surge of emotion. Despite the chaos, despite everything, Heeseungâs right. Youâve always found your way back to each other.
The floodlights feel blinding as you adjust your position, gripping the mic nervously while Heeseung holds his guitar with calm confidence. The crowdâs murmurs fade into the background as the two of you stand centre stage, illuminated against the dark night sky.
Heeseung glances at you, offering a small smile that speaks volumes, a smile that reassures, Weâve got this. But your heart races, pounding so hard it echoes in your ears. After everything you've both been through, this song feels like a culmination of it all, something sacred, something thatâs undeniably yours.
Heeseung begins to strum the opening chords of "Our Way," the familiar melody floating through the crisp night air. Itâs the same song you two composed back when the world felt like it was crashing down around you. Now, standing together in front of a sea of faces, you realise how much this moment holds, for this is the same sea of faces that both of you had to pretend to be someone you clearly werenât in front of.
The spotlight is harsh, and the crowd feels overwhelming, but the moment Heeseung looks at you, the tension begins to melt. His gaze is steady, a silent reminder that youâre not standing here alone. As the first verse begins, your voice breaks the silence, soft but carrying the weight of your shared history.
I made a little room in my heart You, who I can't forget, are standing there I open that door, so that your voice that I long for calls me
Tears filled with regrets flow unconsciously I wish I could follow to wherever and flow somewhere In that warm sunlight, I want to let myself go so that I can meet you
Heeseungâs voice joins yours in the verse, and it grounds you, the warmth of his voice wrapping around you like a shield. The words spill from your lips with more emotion than you expected, echoing all the uncertainties that have trailed youâfrom confronting the darkest parts of your identity to navigating the chaos that has defined your lives. You recall those moments where you had to pretend to be someone else in front of friends and strangers alike, hiding who you truly were just to protect what little you had. You also recall all the difficult choices you both had to make to protect each other, knowing full well others may look at you differently for it.
At a slightly different time In the invisible world One star in the same room You and I have one name and one face
Even if I never see you again I walk following the same star Things that made me believe without any regrets: That one name and one voice
But it's a choice you're willing to make if it means being with Heeseung. Letting go of your personas and alter egos so you can show him your truest, most authentic self.
In the unstable world when there was no place to stand It held me from somewhere, that invisible touch Once again, I want your warm embrace I go and find you
Even when it felt like the whole world had their backs turned on you, you know the one person who will be there for you is going to be Heeseung. That despite everythingâthe masks, the façades, the personasâyou and he have always shared something real. You were never truly hiding from each other. Even when you couldnât see the way forward, he found you, held you in the darkness. And now, in this moment, you know without a doubt that you would always find him too.
Nothing has changed in the end We're holding our hands right now Filling the same place differently You're there, when we close our eyes We're right here at the nearest place
Your heart tightens as you sing those words. Even after everything thatâs happened, after all the chaos, it feels like nothing has truly changed. You think maybe because before everything fell to shit, Heeseung was with you, and now that everything fell to shit and back, Heeseung is still by your side, holding your hand, grounding you in the same way he always has. And you realise thatâs what matters most. It doesnât matter what the world says, doesnât matter what youâve had to go through. What matters is that youâve both found your placeâtogether.
We're walking the same path We call for the same heart Dancing along the line we drew together
You know that this path you have pavedâhell, this path you dug with your bare hands until they were bloody and shakingâis your own. And even with your hands, scarred and hideous, Heeseung would still hold them. For it is these very hands, flawed as they are, that pulled him out of the darkness when he couldnât see the way forward. For you, heâd walk the line, even if it was a tightrope.
With one star, my one star So many things that you can't see Were always more beautiful You rise up by my side every day You're one star, that's your name
This song, this moment, it tells the story of everything youâve been through together, even if only the two of you will truly understand it. You donât need the validation of others. You donât need to pretend to be someone youâre not to feel worthy of love. Because here, on this stage, in this life, you and Heeseung are enough. You always have been.
As the last chord fades, you turn to him, your eyes locking with his, and an overwhelming sense of peace washes over you. Heeseung smiles softly, and in that smile, you see everythingâgratitude, love, and the quiet promise that no matter what happens next, youâll continue walking this path together.
This euphoric feeling is irreplaceable, and if you had the chance to go back, to do it all over again, youâd choose to walk the same path, every. single. time.
Because at the end of the day,Â
You and I have one name, and one face.
Somehow, youâll find itâthe delicate balance between who you wish to be and who the world expects you to be. But for now, you simply have to be satisfied with who you are. Be yourself, because everyone else is already taken. The simplicity of that idea has never resonated more deeply.
You finally understand why, despite having all the attention you could ever receive, youâve been left feeling hollow, so starved of love. Itâs because to truly be loved, you have to be known. Known in a way that pierces through your exterior, that gives you a place where you belongâirrevocably. Itâs not the surface admiration or fleeting glances that matter. No, itâs the profound sense of being seen, of being understood when words fail you. Itâs those quiet moments, seemingly insignificant but bursting with meaning, that remind you that youâre never truly alone, that there is someone who knows you and loves you for it.
How do you know this?
Because love, at its core, is about how every small, intricate detail speak volumes of affection. Itâs in the way his gaze lingers on yours, the way he stands beside you in silence, offering his presence as comfort when words would only fall short.Â
Because Heeseung knows you.
And in the depth of his understanding, in the way he knows your every fear, your every vulnerabilityâyou feel loved by him.
#enhypen#belift#hybe#jungwon#heeseung#sunghoon#jay#jake#sunoo#ni ki#lee heeseung au#heeseung x reader#heeseung au#lee heeseung#lee heesung x reader#enhypen heeseung#enhypen fluff#enhypen x reader#enhypen scenarios#enhypen angst#enhypen crack#enhypen smut#tfwy smokesceens&cigarettes#tfwy au#SoundCloud#Spotify
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call me a noob cause idk how to reblog tags... but i just really want to reply to this!! first, thank you for enjoying ttomrf!!!
the "red flag was really colourful" took me out â ïž and no i get it cause if i were yn i would've been long gone out of this rs...
also a not so fun fact: while writing this, jay was supposed to be justin. but the more i was writing, the more fucked up the character became and i was just like???? fiction or not, jay would never. so i replaced it with a typical white boy name and called it a day....
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vote for what you want to see next!
my initial plan is to push out the idol!jungwon x non-idol!reader smau but i thought maybe i could do a little survey to see who are my readers more keen to see.
iâll keep the synopsis a secret for now but take a pick at your pairings! none of these are smut, although might be a little young adult-ish and contains sensitive topics.
keep in mind that this is just a little survey, the result of the poll might not even affect the outcome. so, don't be too disappointed if i don't push out the ones you voted for đ
p.s. itâs not an au by me if itâs not ANGST, so take that into account when choosing! đ€Ș
also is it just me or heeseung is so smauable like...
#thatfeelingwhenyou just for funzies ËÍá”ËÍ#tfwy au#tfwy smau#enhypen#jungwon#heeseung#sunghoon#jay#sunoo#jake#ni ki
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KINDRED â yang jungwon
Itâs your final year of highschool, and your only goal is to graduate top of your cohort, as usual. Except as student council president, your advisor canât seem to leave you alone. What happens when you take Decelis Academyâs top student, their star taekwondo athlete and put them in front of a camera?
âKindredâ a student documentary. Pilot episode airing tonight on TVN 7PM KST.
PAIRING: athlete!jungwon x stucopres!fem!reader
FEATURING: enhypen, yunjin from lesserafim, ryujin and chaeryeong from itzy, chanelle from runext, beomgyu and taehyun from txt, wonyoung from ive, gunwook and gyuvin from zb1 etc.
GENRE: high school au, enemies to lovers, nerd x athlete, forced proximity, slice of life, coming of age, he fell first and harder, fluff, ANGST, teen drama, slow burn ish?
STATUS: completed! (01/09/2023 â 18/03/2024)
WARNINGS: contains profanities, horrible attempt at humour, urban lingo, probably cringy, kys/kms jokes, depression jokes, sexual innuendos (nothing too inappropriate), depiction of violence, family drama, incorrect timestamps/information, no fixed faceclaims, not proofread etc.
AUTHORâS NOTE: story concept is heavily inspired by the kdrama âour beloved summerâ other than that the storyline is completely original (or so i assume since i manifested this out from the crevices of my pea brain). chapters with â(hw)â next to them indicates that they are half-written, in case yâall skip over it! as always, the content and depiction of the characters in this smau do not in anyway represent them in real life. lastly, if you do end up enjoying, please do like, comment (love reading your comments btw), and reblog so this can reach!
TAGS: #tfwy kindred #tfwy smau
TEASER
profile. one | two | three
episode 1 - ratatouille and the underdogs
episode 2 - one way ticket to university
episode 3 - do you take constructive criticism?
episode 4 - unsolicited but appreciated
episode 5 - the art of benevolence
episode 6 - taekwondo-anti
episode 7 - beating the mentally ill allegations
episode 8 - canât help it, iâm a libra
episode 9 - operation we-donât-really-hate-each-other (hw)
episode 10 - sheâs an oscar award winning actress
episode 11 - someone like me (hw)
episode 12 - âfemale-lead-realising-the-bad-boy-isnt-actually-that-badâ arc
episode 13 - 5 foot 9 garfield meets avatar
episode 14 - yn the heterosexual
episode 15 - the ynwon getting closer montage :p
episode 16 - to the moon and back
episode 17 - eat 2 left toes
episode 18 - you are approved! (hw)
episode 19 - asking for a friend
episode 20 - rediscovering wonâs ability to love
episode 21 - beomgyuâs 99999 eq
episode 22 - ynwon get together or else >:(
episode 23 - âhateâ
episode 24 - not all problems can be solved with a formula
episode 25 - H.O.M.E.W.R.E.C.K.E.R
episode 26 - collecting facebook milfs like pokémons
episode 27 - you were brighter than the moon (hw)
episode 28 - she's studious not stupid
episode 29 - the garden is full of surprises (hw)
episode 30 - weapon of mass destruction
episode 31 - the name above me (hw)
episode 32 - no offense but sheâs a cockblocker
episode 33 - the bane of my existence (hw)
episode 34 - risky risky wiggy wigi this is an emergency
episode 35 - live my life on my terms (hw)
episode 36 - separation anxiety goes crazy
episode 37 - paparizzki
episode 38 - is it too late now to say Sorry?
episode 39 - everything will work out just the way you want it to (hw)
episode 40 (finale) - her entire being is loveable (written)
epilogue - kindred, signing off part 1 | part 2
bonus chapters!
yunjin x heeseung
i can fight
Copyright© 2023 thatfeelinwhenyou All Rights Reserved
#enhypen#heeseung#sunghoon#belift#jungwon#hybe#jay#iland#jake#sunoo#niki#riki#yang jungwon#jungwon smau#jungwon x reader#yang jungwon smau#yang jungwon x reader#enhypen social media au#high school au#enhypen scenarios#enha smau#enhypen angst#enhypen smau#enhypen fluff#enhypen crack#tfwy smau#tfwy kindred
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HANDS ON YOU â lee heeseung
IN WHICH; I-LAND 2 happened and you debuted first place as the leader of LUMIĂRE. Having been told that your group is involved in a lore crossover with ENHYPEN, you navigate work, friendship, and love while trying to make it in an industry filled with animosity and condemnation. When life throws you lemons, you gotta make lemonades chuck it right back!
PAIRING: idol!heeseung x idol!fem!reader
GENRE: smau, strangers to lovers, celebrity x celebrity, fluff, donât let the first part of the smau fool you i swear itâs full on angst towards the end, slowest of the slow burnsâŠ
WARNINGS: contains profanities, horrible humour, kys/kms jokes, sexual innuendos, spelling errors, incorrect timestamps, probably some cringe-worthy moments, cyberbullying, racist and misogynistic comments made about reader, death threats, mentions/depictions of overworking, insomnia, eating disorders, not proofread etc. (i am not in anyway romanticising, encouraging or condoning the usage of these topics. purely for the plot and development of the story.)
STATUS: completed! (04/06/2023 â 08/08/2023)
AUTHOR'S NOTE: please read! literally my first attempt at a smau so please don't flame me đ i must warn yâall that the timestamps are really all over the place, so DO NOT pay attention to them until stated. the content and depiction of the characters in this smau do not in anyway represent them in real life. chapters with â(hw)â next to them indicates that they are half-written, in case yâall accidentally skip over it! last but not least, if you do end up enjoying it please like, comment (absolutely love reading comments!), and reblog! without further ado, enjoy!!
p.s this was written way before the actual airing of I-LAND 2 and not meant to be connected with the real show/contestants in anyway. this was also before i found out you can actually put more than 10 photos in one post đ€Ą
TAGS: #tfwy handsonyou
prologue - introducing LUMIĂRE part 1 | part 2
profile. one | two
chapter 1 - number 1 hater
chapter 2 - infant
chapter 3 - #prayersformarklee âđ€
chapter 4 - dog-eater� (hw)
chapter 5 - breaking records(?)
chapter 6 - still employed!
chapter 7 - bad publicity is still publicity
chapter 8 - to hee or not to hee
chapter 9 - the heist
chapter 10 - trigger warning
chapter 11 - soompitydimpity
chapter 12 - chronic insomnia
chapter 13 - to hee after all
chapter 14 - wild pokémon heeseungie
chapter 15 - artists
chapter 16 - that should be me
chapter 17 - bills
chapter 18 - the elephant in the room (hw)
chapter 19 - if you let me
chapter 20 - trouble? travel! (hw)
chapter 21 - caught in a lie
chapter 22 - always on your side
chapter 23 - princess syndrome
chapter 24 - you (hw)
chapter 25 - golden thread
chapter 26 - way back home (hw)
chapter 27 - uh ohâŠ
chapter 28 - fight or flight
chapter 29 - close friends
chapter 30 - paradoxx invasion
chapter 31 - ramen
chapter 32 - 080923 (hw)
chapter 33 - driver
chapter 34 - demure and honest
chapter 35 - p-platonic?!?
chapter 36 - friends donât look at friends that way
chapter 37 - bungeoppang
chapter 38 - back to the way things were..?
chapter 39 - wheel of fortune
chapter 40 - i miss holding your hand (hw)
chapter 41 - sooha (real)
chapter 42 - rizzseung
chapter 43 - project luminescence
chapter 44 - i will go to you like the first snow (hw)
chapter 45 - itâs awfully quietâŠ
chapter 46 - jake pick me era?
chapter 47 - my life without you is a misery
chapter 48 - your honour, iâm innocent
chapter 49 - breaking my silence
chapter 50 - heâs being exploited!
chapter 51 (finale) - number 1 fan (hw)
epilogue - forever ruined by you
bonus chapter!
the exes talk
Copyright© 2023 thatfeelinwhenyou All Rights Reserved
#literally my first smau please donât flame BAKXNSKDK#enhypen#belift#hybe#iland#heeseung#jungwon#jay#jake sim#sunghoon#kim sunoo#nishimura niki#heeseung x reader#idol au#kpop smau#smau#heeseung smau#tfwy handsonyou#sunoo#nishimura riki#enhypen fluff#enhypen smau#enhypen social media au#enha smau#enha x reader#enha fluff#enhypen angst#lee heesung x reader#jake#lee heeseung
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KINDRED â 40 (finale)
Itâs your final year of highschool, and your only goal is to graduate top of your cohort, as usual. Except as student council president, your advisor canât seem to leave you alone. What happens when you take Decelis Academyâs top student, their star athlete and put them in front of a camera?
written (2.7k words)
â„ïœ„âą episode 40 â her entire being is lovable
The week after Jungwonâs competition, the two of you slip back into the usual programming of studying together after school, despite the documentary having ceased filming. It's a curious irony, isn't it? Now liberated from the suffocating grip of your mother's expectations, free to pursue your own desires, yet you find yourself still tethered to your books, for she was right when she says you canât go anywhere without decent grades.Â
You also donât know what else to do in school besides studying. The library, with its quiet embrace, has become your refuge, a familiar haven and a place where you seek clarity amidst the chaotic excuse you call your current predicament. With your resignation as student body president, all that remains is the race against time until your college entrance exams.
"Y/N, sorry for being late!" Jungwon's voice breaks through the quiet murmur of the library as he settles beside you in your customary corner. You offer him a shy smile, basking in the familiar scent of his cologne that wraps around you like a comforting blanket.
"I finished a whole chapter waiting for you," you tease gently, knowing full well that he'll feel a twinge of guilt for keeping you waiting, only for you to feel bad for making him feel bad. And now youâre both feeling guilty and heâs demanding a kiss from you to make up for it.
"I never took you for the clingy type in a relationship, Yang Jungwon," you chuckle softly, playfully pushing a finger against his forehead to halt any public displays of affection in the holy vicinity of a public library.
"Yeah, well, I didnât think youâd be rejecting my attempts at showering you with love when weâre a whole fortnight into dating," he pouts, his bag dropping to the seat beside you with a sullen thud. If one other thing did change aside from your relationship status, it would be the fact that Jungwon no longer sits across from you, but beside you. He insists itâs for practicality's sake, which to a certain extent you agree.
Truth be told, Jungwon just finds it distracting to be directly across from you, where he was in full capacity to be distracted by the beautiful features of your face. Not that the new arrangement helped anyway when he is still constantly reaching for your hand to hold, a silent plea for your touch that you gladly reciprocate.
âWhy did the teacher hold you back anyway?â
"Couldn't believe my math grades improved so much; he thought I cheated on the recent quiz. Never thought I was doing so badly to make him doubt me that much."
"I mean⊠you were pretty horrendous," you quip with a grin, nudging him playfully. "Emphasis on âwereâ!" you add, teasingly, knowing he won't take it too seriously. He proves you right as he scoffs at your candid assessment of his past academic struggles. After all, deep down, you both know there's some truth to it...
"We have that final confessional with Producer Choi later today, right?"
"Yeah, canât believe two months just flew by like that. Feels like just yesterday we were agreeing to only pretend to like each other." You snicker softly, sensing the irony in the situation now that you and Jungwon are in an official (not fake) relationship.
The irony is not lost on Jungwon as you catch his silent smile, knowing he, too, is lost in the memories of that pivotal moment, where pretence gave way to something real and profound.
"What's to say I'm not pretending right now?" Jungwon raises an eyebrow, eliciting an exaggerated gasp from you.
"Are you suggesting you still hate me?" you exclaim, feigning offence and playfully inching away from him on your chair. Jungwon's reaction is immediate, grabbing onto you as he pleads for you to stay, insisting he was only joking.
"So, you donât hate me?" you inquire with mock seriousness.
"No, I would never!" He envelops you in a sideways hug, leaving you in a precarious position where, without his support, you'd probably topple off the chair, earning judgmental stares from every library patron within a half-mile radius.
With his arm around you, you gaze up at the finely sculpted features of his face, marvelling at how you ever found this man annoying in the first place. As Jungwon's fingers toy with the strands of thread hanging off your uniform blazer, a comfortable silence settles between you.Â
âWhenâs your confessional?â Jungwon's question breaks the serene silence, prompting you to glance at the clock and realise the time constraints you're under.
"I'll have to leave soon if I donât want to be late. Your confessional is right after mine, yeah?" you confirm, already mentally preparing to make your move.
"Yep, Iâll meet you at the gate after, and we could go for some snacks!" Jungwon suggests with a mischievous twinkle in his eye.
"Is this another one of your tricks to feed me into a coma so we donât have to study?" you quip, raising an eyebrow in playful scepticism.
Jungwon feigns innocence, his grin widening. "Who, me? Never!" he replies, his tone dripping with sarcasm. You chuckle, knowing full well his penchant for indulging in snacks whenever the opportunity arises. But as you gather your things and prepare to leave, you can't help but look forward to the prospect of spending some more time with Jungwon, even if it means indulging in a few too many treats along the way.
You arrive promptly at the confessional venue, positioned strategically in the field right by the entrance of the school so the logo can be seen clearly in the background. This meant people, a lot of them, stopping nearby to watch and observe the commotion as it's not every day you get to see a whole camera crew in the front yard of your school.
Spotting Producer Choi among the crew members, you make your way over and exchange greetings. "Y/N! Itâs been a while, hasn't it?" she exclaims with a warm smile.
"It has," you reply, returning her smile as you exchange pleasantries with the familiar faces of the cameramen stationed around you.
"It felt weird not seeing you around after having seen you almost every day for the last 2 months. Strangely enough, I kind of missed it," you admit, though you sense a hint of scepticism in Producer Choiâs eyes, as she knows damn well you were the most excited for this documentary to end.Â
With a gesture from Producer Choi, you settle into the stool in front of the cameras, and the familiarity of the setting washes over you. It's strange how quickly this space has become a second home over the past few months, filled with the laughter of the crew members who have become like family. With that thought in mind, you mentally ready yourself to share your thoughts and reflections on the journey you've embarked on.
"First of all, thank you, Y/N, for agreeing to be a part of this documentary," Producer Choi begins as the camera lights turn red. You nod in response, feeling a mixture of nervousness and excitement coursing through you.
"Letâs start by having you share with the viewers how you felt about this journey," Producer Choi prompts, her voice gentle yet probing.
"Well, itâs not easy, thatâs for sure," you begin, your words flowing more easily now that you've found your rhythm. "It was an experience that urged me to step out of my comfort zone and explore beyond a routine that I was already used to. It was difficult, no doubt, but the friendships that Iâve made along the way made this whole journey worthwhile. If I were to go back in time, I would do it again."
Producer Choi nods encouragingly, her eyes reflecting understanding and empathy. "If thatâs so, tell us the most important thing you gained from this documentary."
"This experience was precious to me in many other ways than one," you continue, your voice growing more animated as you recall the memories. "But if I were to point out the most important thing I gained out of this documentary, it would be myself. Itâs a little cringy, I know. It still amazes me how much I managed to change in this short period of time. But you know what they say, the best discovery starts within you, and you best believe I discovered."Â
The camera captures the sincerity in your eyes, the raw emotion shining through as you speak from the heart; a genuine reflection of your growth and transformation throughout the journey.
"Throughout the airing of âKindred,â the show has gained immense popularity among both domestic and global viewers, why do you think so?" Producer Choi asks, her tone shifting to a more analytical one.
"Honestly, the documentary was able to do well all thanks to Jungwon," you respond with a chuckle, thinking of your ever-charismatic boyfriend. "Without Jungwon, I genuinely think you guys would have produced the most yawn-bearing documentary to date. I acknowledge my lack of entertainment wits. There is also the whole strange pairing between Jungwon and I, even I admit that Iâd be interested to find out how our very unique dynamics would work with each other."
The crew members share a knowing smile, having witnessed firsthand the magnetic chemistry between you and Jungwon that has captivated audiences around the world. It's a testament to the power of authenticity and genuine connection, something that can't be manufactured or scripted.
"Speaking about Jungwon, how has your relationship with him changed throughout the show?" Producer Choi inquires, her curiosity piqued.
"Jungwon is really special to me," you admit, a soft smile gracing your lips as you think of him. "Iâm glad I got to properly know him through this experience. Iâll forever be grateful to âKindredâ for bringing him into my life."
"Seems like there's something more to it, but I won't pry! But now that youâre graduating soon, whatâs next?" Producer Choi prompts, her tone shifting to one of anticipation.
"Hmm⊠Iâm not sure," you confess, feeling a pang of uncertainty creep in. "Ironic since youâd expect the girl with perfect grades to know what she wants to do. But Iâm still working on that. Although, tutoring Jungwon made me realise how much I actually love teaching. May or may not consider pursuing it in the future, but weâll see. Iâm not in a rush anyway."
"Lastly, is there anything you want to say to the viewers of âKindredâ?"Â
"To all the viewers of Kindred, thank you for all the support and attention you gave us!" you exclaim, genuine gratitude shining in your eyes. "Iâm glad you found some sort of joy going through this journey with Jungwon and I. Itâs an experience Iâll hold close to my heart forever."
As the final words leave your lips, you can't help but feel a sense of closure wash over you. This chapter of your life, filled with ups and downs, laughter and tears, is coming to an end. But as you look back on the memories you've created and the relationships you've forged, you know that the impact of this experience will stay with you for a lifetime.
"By the way, will Jungwon be doing his interview here too?" you ask, curiosity tugging at you.
"Why of course," Producer Choi replies with a smile.
"Can I watch?" you inquire, eager to see Jungwon in the hot seat for a change.
"You donât see Jungwon here now, do you? We got to play it fair, Y/N," she says with a wink as she scurries you away from the film site, leaving you with a sense of anticipation for Jungwonâs answers now that you know the questions that were being asked.
"What was your answer to the question?" you grab onto his arms, shaking it relentlessly trying to get him to fold, even equipping your signature puppy eyes. Jungwon, however, continues to chew on his food that both of you bought off a random street cart, and is now seated at the very same bench where you shared your first kiss.
âIâll tell you if you tell me,â you consider revealing your answers but decide against it when you think back to your responses and visibly cringe.
Jungwon, ever the enigmatic one, simply smirks, his lips curling into a playful grin. His eyes sparkle with mischief as he toys with you, taking another casual bite of his street food as if your inquiry were nothing more than a fleeting thought.
You roll your eyes, knowing damn well the game he's playing. This teasing banter, a familiar exchange between the two of you, only adds to the playful dynamic of your relationship. But deep down, you can't help but wonder what his answer might have been.
âI guess weâll only know when they broadcast it,â you shrug, resigning to the mystery as you lean your head on his shoulders. The warmth of his presence beside you, and the gentle rhythm of his breathing, all serve as a comforting anchor amidst the bustling street around you.
As Jungwon reaches over to play with the strands of your hair, a comfortable silence washes over you. The sound of distant chatter and the occasional honking of car horns fade into the background, leaving only the two of you in your own little bubble of tranquillity.
With a playful smile, you reach up to gently swat at Jungwon's hand, feigning annoyance. "Stop messing with my hair," you tease, though secretly enjoying the attention. Jungwon chuckles, his warm breath brushing against your cheek as he leans in closer.
"But it's so fun," he counters, his voice a mere whisper. You roll your eyes playfully, unable to contain your grin. "You're lucky I like you," you retort, leaning into his touch despite your mock protest.
Jungwon's laughter fills the air, a melodious sound that resonates deep within you. His genuine joy is contagious, spreading warmth and happiness with every moment you share.
"I know," Jungwon replies with a smirk, tightening his hold around you. "And I'm lucky to have you." You smile to yourself, the warmth of Jungwon's words enveloping you like a soft embrace. His ability to express his feelings so openly still catches you off guard at times, leaving you feeling both exhilarated and a little overwhelmed.
"You know, you have a way with words," you tease, lifting your head to meet his gaze. Jungwon's smirk widens into a full-blown grin, his eyes sparkling with affection. "Only when I'm talking to you," he replies, his voice filled with sincerity.
The sincerity in his words touches something deep within you, stirring a gentle flutter of emotions in your chest. Despite any doubts or uncertainties that may linger, there's a sense of reassurance in knowing that Jungwon is by your side, ready to face whatever challenges come your way.
You never fully comprehended why you felt so connected to Jungwon in the first place. Sure, you could say that anybody in your positionâforced to film a documentary 24/7 with a decent-looking boy (though youâd rather die than admit this back then)âyou were bound to catch feelings.
To you, Jungwon is more than just a forced proximity crush; he's an anomaly in your otherwise stoic and academic-focused life. An anomaly that got you so frustrated trying to figure out why heâs such a constant pain in your ass. An anomaly that introduced you to the world outside of the one your mother delicately crafted for youâholding you to unrealistic expectations that she knew damn well you could never meet no matter how much you tried.
He helped you understand that this life is a journey that you shape. That no matter what, mistakes are inevitable. You can give your everything and still somehow manage to fuck things up along the way. Yet, the beauty lies in the way you get to decide how youâre going to fuck up. And thereâs no one youâd rather navigate these missteps with than Jungwon.
And while many would assume that a student council president with stellar grades and a Taekwondo athlete who can't study to save his life would never go well together, these assumptions are proven to be false as you realise the many similarities you share with Jungwon. Like how either of you will do anything for the people you care about and for the things you wish to achieve. You could say the two of you are Kindred.
As you rest against him, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your cheek, you can't help but marvel at the depth of your connection, forged through peculiar circumstances.Â
With him, it doesnât matter who you want or need to be.
With him, life seems completely different, exciting and worthwhile.
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âĄă·ËË· ·ËË·ăâĄ
authors note: aaaaand that marks the end of kindred!! i have so much i want to say but i'll save it for when the epilogue comes out! in short, thank you so much to everyone who stuck till the end despite my super irregular posting schedule... đ«Ł until next time!
perm taglist. @hajimelvr @s00buwu @urmomssneakylink @bubblytaetae @mrchweeee @artstaeh @sleeping-demons @yuviqik @junsflow @blurryriki @hueningcry @fakeuwus @enhaslxt
taglist! @uuzhanggggggg @aloloveswonie @jayhoonvroom @missingemobeomgyu @jiawji @ocyeanicc @s7noo @asterizee @nwjws @noascats @yunwonie @saturnmooonxx @enhaz1 @jiaant11 @clairecottenheart @i2lain @miumiuoi @zhounauts @neocockthotology @nanuer @yenqa @ahnneyong @chanhee-hee @yanqiiuver @yujmelon @keiisu @jaeyunniesimp @jiamini @jihanniee @lilriswife4life @i-yeseo @plutoslostagain @haqzm @ilovejungwonandhaechan
#enhypen#jungwon#heeseung#sunghoon#belift#hybe#jay#iland#sunoo#enhypen fluff#jake#niki#riki#enhypen social media au#enhypen smau#enhypen crack#enhypen angst#enhypen x reader#enhypen scenarios#enha smau#yang jungwon x reader#jungwon x reader#yang jungwon smau#jungwon smau#jungwon social media au#high school au#yang jungwon#tfwy kindred#tfwy smau
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KINDRED â bonus chapter 2
Itâs your final year of highschool, and your only goal is to graduate top of your cohort, as usual. Except as student council president, your advisor canât seem to leave you alone. What happens when you take Decelis Academyâs top student, their star athlete and put them in front of a camera?
â„ïœ„âą bonus chapter â i can fight
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authors note: and that's everything i have! thank you so much for reading everyone đ„ș see yall next time!!
check out my other works here
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KINDRED â 38
Itâs your final year of highschool, and your only goal is to graduate top of your cohort, as usual. Except as student council president, your advisor canât seem to leave you alone. What happens when you take Decelis Academyâs top student, their star athlete and put them in front of a camera?
â„ïœ„âą chapter 38 â is it too late now to say Sorry?
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authors note: jb reference goes crazy this chapter. i apologise for the long wait, the pcd ainât going away anytime soon đ„Č iâll finish writing the last few chapters and post them all at once !!
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taglist open! @uuzhanggggggg @aloloveswonie @jayhoonvroom @missingemobeomgyu @jiawji @ocyeanicc @s7noo @asterizee @nwjws @noascats @yunwonie @saturnmooonxx @enhaz1 @jiaant11 @clairecottenheart @i2lain @miumiuoi @zhounauts @neocockthotology @nanuer @yenqa @ahnneyong @chanhee-hee @yanqiiuver @yujmelon @keiisu @jaeyunniesimp @jiamini @jihanniee @lilriswife4life @i-yeseo @plutoslostagain @haqzm
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KINDRED â 35
Itâs your final year of highschool, and your only goal is to graduate top of your cohort, as usual. Except as student council president, your advisor canât seem to leave you alone. What happens when you take Decelis Academyâs top student, their star athlete and put them in front of a camera?
smau + written (2.1k words)
â„ïœ„âą episode 35 â live my life on my terms
With the persistent urging from your concerned friends, who've been expressing their worry about your well-being, you decide to head home to freshen up and grab a few personal items before returning to the hospital, hopefully before Jungwon wakes up. The anticipation is filled with more dread than fear because you're well aware of what awaits you. As you leisurely stroll along the familiar sidewalk, you begin to mentally prepare yourself, rehearsing your comeback to the lines you expect your mother to say upon seeing you.
"This is not like you, what happened to my once-behaved daughter."
"Look at what that violent boy did to you."
"Your future is more important than some high school fling, Y/N."
In some ways, your mother has a point. You have indeed changed, but whether for the better or worse isn't something she should unilaterally decide. It's a pretty subjective matter if you think about it. True, you're no longer the academic prowess that effortlessly intimidated your peers.
In that process, however, you've gained the ability to express emotions, to breathe, and to savour the intricacies of life that are exclusive to your youth. Itâs not fair and unjust for your mother to try and take those experiences away from you.
Arriving home, the familiar scent of the place wraps around you like a comforting embrace compared to the smell of bleach and cheap air fresheners. The house echoes with memories of a time when things were simpler, and you were the dutiful student everyone expected you to be. But now, as you unlock the door with the spare key hidden beneath the mat, you feel the weight of recent events pressing on your shoulders as you step through the threshold.
The once-familiar haven now feels like a foreign spaceâfrom the walls adorned with academic achievements to the shelves of neatly arranged trophies, you witness a past that no longer wholly defines you.
Your call for your mother echoes through the living room, where an eerie atmosphere hangs in the air. Sheâs not home.
Before heading back to the hospital, you take a moment to freshen up. After a quick shower and a change of clothes, you gather a few essentials into a bag, hoping to slip away without encountering your mother's potential reproach.
Not wanting to keep Jungwon waiting, you swiftly descend the stairs to gather the remainder of your items. Youâre not even certain if Jungwon is even awake, yet an inexplicable desire relentlessly pulls you back to his side. The amusing twist is, he hasn't even formally asked you out, leaving you in suspense about how you'd respond if he did. Your relationship with Jungwon lacks clear labels, perhaps defined vaguely as "friends who kissed," but nothing more.
Rounding the corner into the living room, you're taken aback to find your mother seated stoically on the couch. The room seems to hold its breath, charged with the unspoken tension between you and her. Her eyes, weighed down by heavy bags, lock onto yours, unveiling a profound depth of concern and emotion.
As you stand at this unexpected crossroad, you know there is nothing you can do to avoid having this conversation with her. So, you decide to stand firm as you greet her.
âDidnât think youâd be coming home so soon. Why? Did you finally realise what I meant? Did he leave you?â There she goes again with her assumptions.
You sigh as you bring your belongings up to your chest and say, âActually, I came back to grab some stuff before going back to the hospital.â
âHospital? Why would you go there?â
âJungwon. Heâs hurt.â With a smirk playing on her lips, your mother scoffs. âWell, thatâs where youâd expect a kid who fights every day to end up, donât you agree?â
âHe got hurt because of me. Donât speak on situations you donât know about, Mother.â
Your mother's eyes narrow, and a snide remark escapes her lips, âHurt because of you? Sounds like a troublemaker. You always did have a penchant for attracting problems.â
You take a deep breath, your patience tested. âHe's not a troublemaker. He's someone I care about deeply, and he's going through a tough time right now. I don't need your judgment.â
The atmosphere in the room grows heavier, but you stand your ground, refusing to let her negativity seep into your convictions. Your mother, sensing your defiance, continues with her disparaging comments about Jungwon, questioning your choices and the people you associate with. Yet, with each hurtful word, you find the strength to assert your boundaries.
âI won't let you belittle him or undermine my decisions. Jungwon is important to me, and I won't allow anyone, even you, to tarnish that.â
Your mother, surprised by your assertiveness, falls silent for a moment. Your brazen defiance is a scene she hadn't expected to happen, ever. As she comes face-to-face with this newfound persona in you, an epiphany strikes herâyou've grown up. Much like your father before, it dawns on her that you, too, are preparing to leave, not just physically but emotionally, for someone else.
âAll I ever wanted was the best for you. Why canât you see that, Y/N?â Her voice carries a mix of desperation and frustration, as if grappling with the reality that her daughter is becoming her own person, separate from the mould she had envisioned.
You meet her gaze with a level of maturity she didn't anticipate. âI appreciate that, Mom, but I need you to understand that what's best for me may not align with your expectations. Jungwon is going through a difficult time, and I want to be there for him.â
Your mother's eyes soften briefly, but the resistance is still there. âYou're throwing away your future for someone who might not even be there for you in the long run. Your father did the same, and look where it got him.â
Your resolve remains unshaken. âI'm not Dad, and neither is Jungwon. I can't let fear dictate my choices. 'Donât let anyone step on you'âisnât that what you always reiterate?â
She sighs, a mixture of exasperation and resignation. âI just worry about you, Y/N. It's a tough world out there, and you're making it even harder for yourself.â
You take a moment, choosing your words carefully. âI appreciate your concern, Mom, but I need to live my life on my terms. I hope you can find a way to support that.â
As you utter those words, a poignant silence hangs in the air, carrying the weight of unspoken expectations and the subtle shift in the dynamics of your relationship. The room feels charged with the acknowledgment that you are no longer the girl she once shaped to fit her ideals.
The faint sound of a clock ticking highlights the passage of time, and in that moment, youâre reminded of Jungwon laying on the hospital bed, possibly waiting for you. You cast one last look at your mother, her eyes reflecting a blend of worry, bittersweet nostalgia, and a mother's unconditional love, before turning to walk out the door.
As you are about to leave, you catch sight of your phone, untouched and nestled atop the shelf for your taking. Your mother remains silent, watching as you pocket the device, likely lost in her own thoughts. The door closes behind you, marking a departure not only from the house but also from the expectations that have bound you for so long. The next chapter of your life is unfolding, and youâre determined to face it with courage and authenticity, even if it means challenging the expectations of those closest to you.
You can't help but ponder how things might be different the next time you step foot in this house, or if there will be any change at all. Perhaps, despite your earnest expressions, the essence of the house will persist, unaffected by the sentiments you shared today.
Yet, you consciously push these musings aside, acknowledging that worrying about potential outcomes serves no purpose at this moment. Instead, your attention pivots to the immediate presentâyour journey back to the hospital, where Jungwon patiently awaits your return
It's late morning when you stroll back into the hospital. Jungwon is already out of bed, looking way more refreshed than he did the night before, but your heart aches when you see the brusies covering his otherwise perfect features. As he catches sight of you, his eyes light up, as if the whole world suddenly brightened with your presence.
The vibe between you and Jungwon is undeniable, and it doesn't go unnoticed by the others in the room who voluntarily exits to give you two space. Well, everyone except Jay, who has to be pulled out of the ward by Sunoo, giving you a cheeky wink before closing the door.
âHey there, I was looking for you.â
âI know.â You slide into the seat beside him on the tiny hospital bed, a space Jungwon graciously made for you. Stretching your legs out, you playfully nudge his feet with yours. You feel his gaze on you, intense and longing, as if he senses something weighing on your mind and is patiently waiting for you to open up.
âI had a chat with my mom earlier today.â He stays silent, listening attentively as you continue, âIt was a much-needed conversation, but now I'm worried that I might have said some things that hurt her. I just canât shake it off my mind.â
You look to him, seeking advice. Jungwon's eyes soften, and he reaches out to gently hold your hand. âYou did what you had to do, Y/N. Your feelings matter too.â
He squeezes your hand reassuringly, offering a small, understanding smile. âIf there's anything I've learned from all this, it's that you can't control how others react. You can only be true to yourself and hope they understand eventually.â
Leaning against the side of the bed, you let out a sigh. âI hope she does, Jungwon. I don't want to hurt her, but I also can't keep suppressing my own feelings.â
Jungwon nods in compassion, his thumb tracing soothing circles on the back of your hand. âGive it time, Y/N. Emotions take a while to settle. In the meantime, I'm here for you. Whatever you need, Iâve got you.â His support warms your heart, and with a grateful smile, you rest your head on his shoulder, taking comfort in his presence.
Jungwonâs words resonate as you recognise the profound truth in the realisation that changing someone's entire mindset is no quick fixâit's a gradual process that takes time and unconditional efforts.
As you contemplate these thoughts, you come to accept that, even with all the time in this world, certain aspects may remain unaltered. It's a reality that demands compromise, a delicate balance of understanding and being understood. You acknowledge the concept of mutual comprehension without the imposition of force, hoping that, in time, your mother will come to understand that too.
As your mind grapples with a flurry of thoughts, Jungwon is also caught in a whirlwind of emotions, his attention laser-focused on the spot where your head rests on his shoulder. Itâs evident youâre not the only one pondering the line between you two, and contemplating the boundaries you have crossed as 'friends'.
In this quiet moment shared in the hospital room, Jungwon turns to you, and his eyes reveal a warmth that speaks volumes. The air around you changes, and he takes a deep breath, as though summoning the courage to express what's on his mind.
"Y/N," he begins, his voice soft yet resolute, "there's something I've been wanting to ask." You can already sense the direction this conversation is going, yet you decide not to hold him to any expectations just in case it doesnât.
"I've been thinking a lot about us, about what we are," he continues, the sincerity in his voice echoing in the room. âAnd if what happened yesterday didnât already make it clear to me, it is now. I like you, a lot.â
âY/N, will you let me be your boyfriend?â
The vulnerability in his question, the openness in his eyes, tugs at something deep within you. A mixture of emotions swirls in your chest and you take a moment to savour the weight of his words and the unspoken connection that has brought you to this juncture.
The hospital room, with its muted sounds and sterile surroundings is a stark contrast to the little bubble that the two of you are in. Your heartbeat syncs with the soft hum of machinery, creating an anticipative symphony that accompanies the unfolding scene. Finally, a soft smile plays on your lips as you reply,
"And will you let me be your girlfriend, Jungwon?â
The soft kiss that ensued undoubtedly sealed the deal.
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authors note: i have nothing to say but sorry⊠đ also this chapter is dedicated to user beomsbeanie, not sure if youâll see this but if you do, tysm! you have blessed my life too 𫶠side note: KINDRED IS ALMOST COMING TO AN END!
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KINDRED â 31
Itâs your final year of highschool, and your only goal is to graduate top of your cohort, as usual. Except as student council president, your advisor canât seem to leave you alone. What happens when you take Decelis Academyâs top student, their star athlete and put them in front of a camera?
smau + written (2.0k words)
â„ïœ„âą episode 31 â the name above me
tw! y/nâs mom
The two-week break flies by rather quickly, and you find yourself back in your school uniform on a Monday morning, realising that nothing has really changed. You had already half-convinced yourself that post-midterm would be different for you, you had hoped for clarity regarding your plans after high school. Alas, uncertainty clings to you like an unwelcome companion.
Walking onto campus, you encounter a throng of students gathered in front of the ranking boards. Right, your results are released today.
Oddly, though, the weight of your grades hasn't been preoccupying your thoughts these past two weeks like it would in the past, marking the first time in your life that you haven't been consumed by overthinking your grades or endlessly reviewing test questions, as if every time you did it you didnât get the same exact answer.
No, you actually enjoyed your break. You allowed yourself to breathe, to embrace the carefree spirit of a high school teenager.
You went cafĂ© hopping with Bora and Jungwon again, only this time you ensured a mango juice mishap did not befall you. The girls, including yourself, enjoyed a truly relaxing girls' day where everyone dressed up just for the joy of it. Then there was that unforgettable excursion to the amusement park; you rode the Ferris wheel for the first time as it had been a long-standing prohibition from your mother. Though fairly insignificant, you record as it as a âwinâ in your books.
Before you knew it, your final term at Decelis Academy had already begun. The documentary is in its concluding stages, with tasks remaining on the itinerary, including capturing your and Jungwon's reactions to your grades, the student council's senior farewell party, Jungwon's upcoming competition, and then the final confessional.
Arriving on campus, you initially worry about being way too early but lucky for you, the camera crew had arrived hours in advance and established their vantage point on the left side of the ranking boardsâthe higher-scoring side. Despite their meticulous preparation, you inadvertently squeeze yourself into a group of students gathered in the middle, unintentionally defying their plans for the perfect front-row view of your reaction from every angle.
Your eyes scan the list.
74 ***
75 ***
76 ***
77 Yang Jungwon
Found it.
You let your fingers glide over the paper, seeking out his Mathematics scores. 105 out of 150. Relief floods through you, a broad smile gracing your face at his passing grade. Not just barely but with a decent score, just enough to pull him up to a C, securing his spot in the competition just 15 days from now. Youâre smiling so wide, the joy evident without even knowing how you did for your own papers.
And as if you were sharing the same brain cell, you find Jungwon standing at the front of the board, his expression tense as he gazes at a name at the top. Concern brushes your thoughts, but you manage to conceal it from the cameras as you cheerfully call out, "Wonnie! You passed your Math paper, youâre going to compete in the Asian Championships!"
"I-Iâm so sorry, Y/N," he stammers, a heavy silence lingering between you. Reluctantly, you follow his gaze, and there it is.
1 Lee Haerin
2 Park Y/N.
Your name, usually perched at the top, now finding itself below another.
You know Lee Haerin, sheâs a familiar face from the book club, and you know this having seen her in the library more times than you could count. And you were there almost every day. You also recognise her name as someone who was consistently ranking below you, but how the tables have turned.
You donât loathe her; surely, it isnât her fault that your English Literature scores fell short, causing you to drop in overall rankings. Besides, it's only mid-terms, and you still have your preliminary exams to pull your grades up before the CSAT⊠Right?
You sense someone settling down beside you on the ledge you've chosen to occupy on the roof. You had chosen to forgo lunch, knowing you can barely keep anything down your throat at the moment. Shifting your gaze from the clusters of shops just outside the school gates, where the popular takoyaki stand beckons memories of post-school visits with your friends, you turn your attention to the person you had already half-expected to be Jungwon.
âYou should eat something, even if just a little.â Jungwon places a piece of custard bread, banana milk, and a packet of your favourite gummies on your lap, almost pleading with you to eat.
âYou didnât have to.â
âNot when you look like as if the world is ending tomorrow.â Jungwon jokes, only to cough awkwardly when he realises you didnât respond to his jokes, even with an eye-roll like you usually would.
âIt might as well be. I just know my mother is going to KILL me.â You make sure to emphasise the word âkill.â Because you arenât wrong; if the world isnât going to kill you tomorrow, your birth-giver will.
Unbeknownst to you, tears well up in your eyes, threatening to spill over. Witnessing you in such a vulnerable state tugs at Jungwon's heart; the girl he likes is breaking down in front of him and he doesnât even know what to do. As he battles his inner thoughts, contemplating the best way to console you, he senses you clutching onto the sleeves of his uniform blazer. Pouting and fighting back tears, you say, âIâm going to be okay, right?â
âYes, crybaby, everything is going to be okay.â You feel him begin to gently stroke your hair down to your neck, rubbing circles into the back of your ears as he makes another crybaby joke in an attempt to cheer you up.
âIâm not a crybaby,â you manage to say between hiccups and sobs, prompting Jungwon to emit a small snicker. The irony strikes youâa few weeks ago, you were in Jayâs garden comforting Jungwon as he held back tears, and now he's here comforting you in your most vulnerable state. The situation doesnât go unnoticed by Jungwon, as he also recognises the irony of it, judging by the bittersweet way he smiles.
âJust because you fail once, doesn't mean you're gonna fail at everything.â Jungwon holds your cheek and tilts your head to face him, his thumbs swiping away fresh tears staining your cheeks.
âI donât know⊠the one thing Iâm good at, and I just flunked it-â
âShh! Believe in yourself because if you don't, then who will? Lifeâs beautiful, and there's so much more to it than numbers on a piece of paper, Y/N. I hope you see that.â
In that moment, you realise you never really did look at your scores for the papers. Then you realise it wasnât the scores that had you feeling worthless. Thinking back, you had already forgone looking at your scores a long time ago, as long as you stayed in that number one spot, as long as you didnât disappoint your mother. You wanted to satisfy her, try to get her to praise you, but as your heartless mother has once said: âWhy would I praise something that is supposed to be a given?â
You've spent your entire life routinely studying, evolving yourself into the machine your mother probably wished she had instead of a breathing human childâyou.
In the echo of your academic routine, the fear of losing her approval looms larger than the tangible rankings you've held. The relentless pursuit of excellence, though driven by an inner desire for acknowledgment, is entangled in the web of your mother's expectations. So, what scares you isnât the fact you no longer retained the number one spot; what scares you is disappointing the one person you craved validation from. What were you expecting? Because when the given is taken away from you, will she praise you then?
No. Sheâll criticise you, blame your father, blame the documentary, and undoubtedly, sheâll gun after Jungwon. Because nothing is ever really her fault, and you knew sometime along the way that nothing will ever satisfy her, but you still try anyway. You try because you donât know what else to do other than sticking to the status quo. Until, at least, the documentary featuring Jungwon happened.
What was initially supposed to be a pawn in your masterful plan to build your portfolio for University becomes the very documentary that breaks you out of your shell, as the looming prospect of your motherâs disapproval, like an oppressive cloud, pushes you to strive for success, even when you know it may never be enough for her.
âEat.â You come back to your senses to find Jungwon has opened the packet of bread and shoved it into your mouth. He then watches you bite into it before he lets go to open the bottle of banana milk, handing them to you between bites of the bread.
Again, Jungwon with his overly friendly gestures that graze the delicate line between friends and something more than that. Jungwon, who once again, manages to empty your mind by babying you and treating you like a princess who needs rescuing.
âYouâre confusing me.â The words fly out of your mouth before you even get the chance to rethink
âDoesnât mean Iâm feeding you like a baby that you are actually one.â He teases, and you watch him as he takes a sip out of the banana milk, from the same straw you used. Pushing away the thought that youâve just indirectly kissed him, you're just glad he didnât catch onto the intention behind your statement.
âI feel bad that youâre here comforting me, when you should be celebrating having passed a certain Math paper after all that hard work.â
âIt was your hard work as much as it was mine, Y/N.â Jungwon takes his thumb, wiping at the corner of your lips where custard from the bread had oozed out and stayed. He then brings it up to his own lips, eating it off his finger. You just indirectly kissed him, again.
Your heartbeat quickens, a symphony of excitement drowning out any lingering worries about exams or your mother. Your mind is a canvas painted with thoughts of Jungwon and his unexpected gestures that got you contemplating the possibility of him being interested in you. Surely, Yang Jungwon isnât known for being a romantic guy, but once again, you're proven wrong; he is that guy.
This certainty solidifies as he opens the packet of gummies, deliberately picking out the red-coloured ones first, knowing that you ate them in the colour of the rainbow; a subtle detail that shows he pays attention to your preferences.
At first, they were really subtle gestures that made you realise how horribly you have misjudged him. Then came the heartfelt actions, revealing a caring side that made you question if he had always been this way. The tipping point was realising these gestures were exclusively reserved for you, unveiling sides of Jungwon that remained hidden from everyone else. While others perceived him as mundane, cold, and mysterious, you alone saw a different Yang Jungwon.
And when you see the scoreboard, someone elseâs name above yours for the very first time, it shocks you to the core that you, in fact, did not care. That the first thing you sought was Jungwonâs rankings on the board, eager to know if your efforts in tutoring him paid off, if he can participate in the competition that has become crucial to him and, by extension, vital to you.
For the first time, someone else's grades mattered more than your own. This epiphany stretches beyond academic priorities, signifying that Jungwon holds a place in your life beyond the confines of friendship; that he is more than just a friend that you make him out to be.
You like him, more than you let yourself on.
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authors note: i kept my promise yall đđđ€ and yes yn mom needs a whole ass tw. iâd say we are a good 10 chapters away from the finale and iâm currently considering next projects but weâll see đ also do expect more written chapters, i rlly tried to reduce them as much as possible but itâs so hard to write without going into detail⊠BUT iâll defo make it up with super fluffy and sweet chapters đ€
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#waiting for the yn mom hate comments#enhypen#heeseung#jungwon#sunghoon#belift#hybe#jay#iland#sunoo#enhypen fluff#jake#niki#riki#enhypen smau#enhypen social media au#enhypen crack#enhypen angst#enhypen x reader#enhypen scenarios#yang jungwon smau#jungwon smau#yang jungwon#jungwon x reader#yang jungwon x reader#enha smau#high school au#tfwy kindred#tfwy smau
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