#txt post
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And then I’m obsessed and want to tie you down to my bed and keep you forever
im just not attracted to anyone or anything ever. until i am.
#txt#dom/me#my thoughts#dom/sub#notyourprincxssfairy#mine#txt post#bd/sm kink#bd/sm blog#bd/sm brat#is that too much to ask
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fuck her hard and cuddle her after that, it's a must
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#txt#bw edit#bw#black and white#aesthetic#pale#bw lover#txt post#text#text post#message#sms#wiadomosci#couple#couple goals#love#cytat o milosci#i love you
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Hunting for wildflowers to press and frame
#southern gothic#txt#ethel cain#ambient#photoshoot#txt post#art#australian gothic#music#nature#Australia#rural gothic#rural australia#other gothic#aesthetic#rural aesthetic#flowers#wildflowers#dogs
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Text: You've taken all of mee. Death will no longer have anything to take.
Yannis Ritsos, trans. by Kimon Friar, from a poem featured in "Erotica: Love Poems,"
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Every time I hear someone say out of all of Tim’s love interests Bernard is the most boring one- THE FUCKING CULT KID???? THE PAIN CULT KID??????? THE PAIN CULT KID WHO’S A BADASS MARTIAL ARTISTS AND EVEN THOUGH HES A CIVILIAN HE CAN KEEP UP W RR???????????? THAT KID IS THE “BORING” ONE!!?!?!?!
just say you’re (probably)homophobic /hj
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"i understand where you're coming from" no i dont think you do certanly
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🫠 the struggle between being so self aware you dissociate, to coming back from dissociation so you can continue to be self aware and grow.
My therapist said something to me today in session. Last week I had a psychosomatic release and it fucked me up. I have very little memories of Thursday/Friday/Saturday. It was concerning to me, and she asked if I went to work. On Friday I didn't buy Saturday I had to I didn't have a choice or coverage.
I told her I felt like I didn't have a choice but to disassociate just so I could make it through the shift. That I didn't have any other coping skills other than that. I felt like a failure because I'm trying to grow and learn healthy coping skills. To which she replied.
"sometimes you have to disassociate in order to move past it. You experience your first ever psychosomatic release which is releasing the trauma in your body, and that in itself can be traumatic. So sometimes you need to disassociate to process it ."
While this confused me, because I didn't think disassociations were good for you, it did provide some relief. I had no idea what to do so I did what I knew. She also told me there is a meditation where you disassociate on command, but she doesn't think I'm ready. And I'm like.... I already know how to do that 😂 I do that often when I'm not interested in the conversation or a guest at work is annoying me. While I can control it to a degree it does happen on instinct as well and I can't always bring myself back. But that's what the meditation does helps bring you back.
It bothers me how self aware I can be because it feels like my nervous system thinks I'm being hunted, it's exhausting. But there are times I'm grateful because there were times that I couldn't be. That I wasn't self aware. I couldn't see other perspectives. Which is a double edged sword as well.
#sad thoughts#deep thoughts#thoughts#mental health support#therapy#self awareness#self improvement#self growth#perspective#minors dni#men dni#txt post#txt#long text#long reads
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i was getting a screencap for a reference and started laughing really hard at this frame
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── ✦ blue back into me.
⋆˚ 𝜗𝜚 ˚⋆ synopsis ⸝⸝ and in that darkness, you realized that the boy you loved was already gone.
꒰ genre⸝⸝ heavy angst, strangers to friends, friends to lovers, lovers to (??) fluff, suggestive (slight) pairing⸝⸝ bf!yeonjun x afab!reader (soobin, beomgyu, jay, sunghoon, and jungwon mentioned) wc⸝⸝ 27.4k warning⸝⸝ this story contains themes of emotional distress, heartbreak, regret, and bittersweet endings. it explores the complexities of love, self-worth, and the weight of unspoken expectations. proceed with care if sensitive to these themes. tune in⸝⸝ blue back into me playlist ୨ৎ ꒱
seventeen. you were seventeen years old when he first held your hand. your childhood best friend, yeonjun.
it was a cool autumn evening, the kind where the air carried a faint crispness, and the fading sunlight painted the world in hues of gold and amber. you were walking back home from school, his backpack slung over one shoulder, your shared laughter echoing down the quiet street.
it wasn’t the first time your hands had brushed—years of friendship meant countless high-fives, casual nudges, and playful shoves. but this time, his fingers lingered, tentative but steady, until they intertwined with yours. his palm was warm, a contrast to the chilly air, and you felt your cheeks burn.
“what?” he asked, looking at you with that familiar grin, though his eyes held something softer, something new.
“nothing,” you mumbled, though your heart was racing, your steps slower now, as if to make the moment last longer.
but to understand how you got there—to that perfect, terrifying, wonderful moment—you’d have to go back to the very beginning.
it was a sweltering july afternoon, the kind of heat that made the neighborhood pool the most coveted spot in town. your parents had taken you there to cool off, but between the towering slides, the screaming kids, and the endless sea of unfamiliar faces, you quickly felt out of place.
“stay close,” your mom had said, her voice barely audible over the chaos. but curiosity got the better of you. you wandered toward the deep end, mesmerized by the older kids diving effortlessly into the water.
that’s when you realized you were lost.
“mom?” you called out, your voice trembling, but the crowd swallowed your words.
“are you okay?”
you turned to see a boy about your age, dripping wet with a towel slung around his neck. his dark hair clung to his forehead, and he had an air of confidence that felt out of place for someone so young.
“i’m—i can’t find my parents,” you admitted, tears threatening to spill.
“don’t cry,” he said quickly, his voice surprisingly gentle. “my dad’s the lifeguard here. i can help.”
he grabbed your hand without waiting for a response, his grip firm but reassuring. weaving through the crowd like he owned the place, he led you to the lifeguard station, where your parents were frantically scanning the pool.
“found her near the diving boards,” he announced casually, as if it were no big deal.
“oh, thank goodness!” your mom exclaimed, pulling you into a tight hug. “thank you so much, young man.”
he shrugged, flashing a grin that showed off his slightly crooked front teeth. “just doing my job.”
you stared at him, a mixture of awe and embarrassment swirling in your chest. “thanks... uh...”
“yeonjun,” he said, giving you a mock salute. “and you are?”
you mumbled your name, feeling suddenly shy under his confident gaze.
“nice to meet you,” he said, ruffling your hair like you were old friends. “maybe i’ll see you around.”
you didn’t think you’d actually see him again. but the universe, in its strange sense of humor, had other plans.
a week after the pool incident, your mom handed you a carton of eggs with the kind of authority that made refusal impossible.
“take these to the new neighbors,” she instructed, her hands on her hips as if to emphasize the importance of the task. “we’ve been meaning to welcome them for weeks. honestly, it’s a little embarrassing we haven’t yet.”
“why can’t someone else do it?” you grumbled, eyeing the carton as if it were some impossible burden.
“because your brothers are useless at remembering their manners, and you need to learn to be neighborly,” she retorted. “just go.”
so there you were, trudging down the driveway in the sweltering heat, clutching the eggs like they might explode if you weren’t careful. the whole way, you muttered under your breath about how unfair it was to be roped into such chores.
the house next door was modest but welcoming, with a small garden out front and a wind chime that tinkled softly in the breeze. you hesitated for a moment, debating whether to knock and run just to avoid the awkward conversation. but you weren’t a coward. squaring your shoulders, you knocked.
the door swung open almost instantly, and there he was.
“lifeguard!” you blurted out, your brain short-circuiting.
the boy from the pool—the one who had found you when you were lost and made it look so effortless—stood in the doorway, a lopsided grin spreading across his face.
his eyes widened in recognition, then crinkled with amusement. “oh, it’s you!”
you stood frozen, staring at him like he’d just stepped out of a dream and into your reality.
he leaned casually against the doorframe, his presence somehow both relaxed and magnetic. “uh, it’s yeonjun,” he corrected, though his tone was playful. “but yeah, that’s me.”
“you live here?” you asked, your voice higher-pitched than you intended.
“since, like, five months ago,” he said, tilting his head slightly. “your parents never told you?”
“they might have mentioned something,” you mumbled, your cheeks heating under his gaze.
the truth was, your parents had mentioned the new neighbors. several times, actually. they’d even hinted that you should introduce yourself, but you’d always found an excuse. you swore you’d never seen him before—how could you have missed someone like him?
but as if reading your mind, yeonjun smirked. “you know, i’ve seen you around.”
“what?”
he shrugged, crossing his arms. “you’re always out in your yard. playing badminton with your friends, arguing with your brothers, sitting under that big tree when you’re reading.”
your mouth fell open. “you’ve been spying on me?”
“spying? no.” he grinned, clearly enjoying your flustered reaction. “just... noticing.”
“creepy,” you shot back, though your heart was hammering in your chest.
“says the person who called me ‘lifeguard’ instead of my name,” he teased, raising an eyebrow.
you wanted to argue, but the words stuck in your throat. instead, you thrust the carton of eggs toward him, desperate to end the conversation before your face combusted.
“here,” you said, avoiding his gaze. “welcome to the neighborhood or whatever.”
his grin widened as he took the carton. “thanks. i guess this means we’re officially neighbors now.”
you nodded, taking a step back, but before you could escape, he added, “by the way, nice to finally meet you properly. next time, don’t wait five months to say hi.”
“i didn’t know you existed!” you protested, your voice more defensive than you’d intended.
“sure you didn’t,” he said with a laugh, his eyes glinting with mischief.
as you turned to leave, your stomach fluttered in a way that annoyed you. yeonjun. your neighbor. the lifeguard. apparently, the boy who’d been noticing you long before you even realized he was there.
you swore under your breath as you walked back to your house. this was going to be... interesting.
and that was just the start of your friendship with yeonjun.
what began as a coincidental meeting soon became the foundation of everything you knew. yeonjun wasn’t just your neighbor anymore; he became your partner-in-crime, the person who knew all your quirks, and the one you always looked for when the world felt heavy.
elementary school was where it truly began to solidify. it wasn’t long before he was waiting for you outside your house every morning, backpack slung over one shoulder, a grin that could rival the sun spread across his face.
“you ready?” he’d ask, even though you were always the one who wasn’t.
“give me a minute!” you’d shout from the doorway, fumbling to tie your shoelaces while he laughed at your chaos.
on the walk to school, he’d talk your ear off about the most random things. dinosaurs, video games, the newest episode of his favorite cartoon.
“do you think velociraptors were actually that smart?” he asked one morning, kicking a rock down the road as you walked.
you frowned, considering it. “probably not as smart as they show in movies. but maybe smarter than chickens.”
“chickens are terrifying, though,” he countered, and you couldn’t argue with that.
over the years, those small conversations turned into deeper ones. he was there when your parents started fighting more than usual.
one night, after your dad slammed the front door and your mom locked herself in her room, you found yourself sitting on the front steps, arms wrapped around your knees.
yeonjun climbed over the fence separating your houses like it was the most natural thing in the world, plopping down beside you. “what happened?”
you didn’t even need to explain. you just leaned your head on his shoulder, and he let you sit there in silence until the tears stopped.
“you know they love you, right?” he said softly, breaking the quiet.
“sometimes it doesn’t feel like it,” you whispered.
he nudged you gently. “hey. you’ve got me, though. and i’ll always love you. even when you’re super annoying.”
you laughed, even though it was shaky. “thanks, lifeguard.”
“don’t call me that,” he groaned, but he was smiling.
then there was your first heartbreak. yang jungwon, the quiet boy from the football team, had somehow wormed his way into your heart during your freshman year of high school.
“he’s cute,” you admitted to yeonjun one day, watching jungwon from across the cafeteria.
yeonjun squinted at him like he was trying to solve a puzzle. “he’s... alright, i guess.”
“just alright?” you teased.
“what? you want me to call him hot or something?” yeonjun shot back, rolling his eyes.
but when jungwon broke your heart a few months later—something about “not being ready for a relationship”—yeonjun was the one who showed up with your favorite snacks and a stack of your favorite movies.
“he’s an idiot,” yeonjun declared, sitting cross-legged on your bedroom floor. “anyone who can’t see how great you are doesn’t deserve you.”
“you’re just saying that because you’re my best friend,” you mumbled, wiping your eyes.
“no, i’m saying it because it’s true,” he said firmly, tossing a popcorn kernel at your head to make you smile.
it worked.
your friendship with yeonjun wasn’t just about the big moments, though. it was the small things, like the way he got along with your brothers, soobin and beomgyu, as if they were his own siblings.
“hey, yeonjun, wanna join our soccer game?” beomgyu asked one saturday afternoon, already tugging him toward the backyard.
yeonjun glanced at you, and you shrugged. “go ahead. i’ll cheer when you lose.”
“me? lose?” he scoffed. “not happening.”
you sat on the porch steps, laughing as he and your brothers turned the yard into a chaotic battlefield. it was like this all the time—yeonjun seamlessly fitting into every part of your life.
and then there were the sleepovers.
it started as a summer tradition when you were twelve. either you’d sneak over to his house with a bag of snacks, or he’d show up at your door with a stack of dvds.
“what are we watching tonight?” he asked one evening, flopping onto your living room couch like he owned the place.
“something scary,” you said, holding up a horror movie.
he groaned. “why do you always pick the ones that’ll make you scream?”
“because it’s funny,” you said, grinning.
he rolled his eyes but didn’t argue. halfway through the movie, when a jump scare made you yelp and grab his arm, he smirked. “told you.”
“shut up,” you muttered, but you didn’t let go of his arm.
those nights always ended the same way—falling asleep on the couch, the tv still playing in the background, and waking up to the sunrise spilling through the windows.
“what do you think happens after high school?” you asked him once, staring at the ceiling in the dim light.
“like, after college and everything?” he asked.
“yeah.”
he was quiet for a moment before saying, “i don’t know. but i think as long as we’re still friends, it’ll be okay.”
you turned your head to look at him, and the softness in his expression made your chest feel warm. “yeah,” you agreed. “it’ll be okay.”
and for years, it was. you and yeonjun, inseparable, unshakable. a friendship that felt like it could withstand anything.
you just didn’t know how much it would be tested.
time came when you were both seventeen. you were both seventeen years old when he first held your hand.
yeonjun, your childhood best friend. the boy who had been by your side through scraped knees, whispered secrets, and endless summer nights. the one who had seen you at your most vulnerable, who always knew how to make you laugh even when the world seemed too heavy.
it was a cool autumn evening, the kind that made you want to linger outside just a little longer, soaking in the last traces of warmth before winter took over. the air smelled faintly of woodsmoke, and the streetlights had just started flickering to life, casting golden halos over the quiet neighborhood.
the two of you were walking back home from school, the weight of textbooks in your backpacks offset by the lightness of your conversation. yeonjun had his backpack slung over one shoulder, the strap threatening to slip off with every step, but he didn’t seem to care.
“i still can’t believe you actually said that to mrs. cho,” you said, shaking your head, the memory of the afternoon making you laugh.
yeonjun grinned, his signature dimple making an appearance. “what? someone had to call her out. her explanation didn’t even make sense.”
“you’re unbelievable,” you replied, rolling your eyes. “you just love stirring the pot.”
“and you love watching it happen,” he teased, nudging your shoulder lightly with his own.
“maybe,” you admitted, a small smile tugging at your lips.
the conversation faded into a comfortable silence as the two of you continued down the street, the only sounds coming from the crunch of leaves beneath your sneakers and the occasional distant bark of a dog.
then it happened.
it wasn’t the first time your hands had brushed—years of friendship meant countless high-fives, playful shoves, and absentminded touches. but this time, his fingers lingered, tentative but steady, until they intertwined with yours.
your breath hitched, the warmth of his palm contrasting sharply with the coolness of the air.
“what?” he asked, glancing at you out of the corner of his eye. his voice was casual, but there was a softness in it that wasn’t usually there.
“nothing,” you mumbled, your heart racing so loudly you were sure he could hear it.
you tried to focus on the sidewalk, on the way the leaves scattered with each step, but all you could feel was the way his thumb gently brushed against yours, as if testing the waters.
you should have let go. this was yeonjun, your best friend, the boy who had been there through everything. but instead, you found yourself holding on tighter, your steps slowing as if you could somehow stretch the moment out longer.
the streetlights seemed brighter tonight, or maybe it was just him. you glanced at him out of the corner of your eye, taking in the way the golden light softened his features, highlighting the curve of his jaw and the way his dark hair fell messily across his forehead.
“have you always been this handsome?” the words escaped before you could stop them.
yeonjun stumbled slightly, his eyes widening as he turned to look at you. “w-what?”
“uh... nothing,” you blurted, your face heating up as you quickly pulled your hand from his.
“wait—” he started, but you were already backing away, your house just a few steps away now.
“s-see you tomorrow!” you called over your shoulder, practically sprinting up the porch steps and yanking the door open.
yeonjun stood frozen on the sidewalk, staring after you with a mix of confusion and something else he couldn’t quite place.
“see you...” he murmured, his voice barely audible as the warmth of your touch lingered on his hand.
he glanced down at it, flexing his fingers absently. his cheeks felt strangely warm, and he rubbed the back of his neck, a nervous laugh escaping him.
when did her voice change? he wondered. you used to sound so squeaky and high-pitched, like a little mouse. but now? now your voice seemed softer, warmer, wrapping around him in a way that made his chest tighten.
it’s just puberty, he told himself. that had to be it. hormones or something. it wasn’t like he hadn’t noticed you before—you were his best friend, after all. but lately, things felt... different.
like the way you’d smile at him when you thought he wasn’t looking. or the way your laughter seemed to linger in the air, making his heart race for reasons he couldn’t explain.
he shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts as he turned to head home. but no matter how hard he tried, his mind kept drifting back to the way your hand fit perfectly in his, the way you looked at him under the streetlights, and the way he had to fight the sudden, inexplicable urge to kiss you.
“what’s happening to me?” he muttered under his breath, running a hand through his hair.
but deep down, he already knew the answer. and it terrified him just as much as it thrilled him.
the transition was slow, like the gradual change in the seasons. one moment, yeonjun was still your best friend—the boy who knew everything about you, the one who could make you laugh even when you felt like crying. and the next, he wasn’t.
it started small, subtle. at first, it was just the little things—holding hands for a few seconds longer than usual, the gentle brush of fingers when you passed something to him, or when you’d sit side by side, letting the warmth of his presence fill the space between you without a word spoken.
but over time, those little moments grew into something more, something undeniable. it was in the way you’d talk for hours, hands intertwined as you both sat on your porch, watching the stars slowly appear one by one. it was the way yeonjun would absentmindedly play with your fingers, tracing patterns on your skin while talking about nothing and everything all at once.
it was the quiet smiles you exchanged when you thought no one was looking, and the way your heart fluttered when his thumb brushed over your palm.
but none of this was ever spoken aloud.
it wasn’t until one evening, when you were sprawled out on the couch with your brothers, that you were forced to face it.
you had just settled in, the sound of the tv filling the living room while the three of you snacked on popcorn, when beomgyu, who had been unusually quiet for the past few minutes, suddenly broke the silence.
“so,” he began, his voice casual, but you could tell by the mischievous glint in his eyes that he was up to something. “is yeonjun your boyfriend?”
your stomach dropped, your heart racing as your eyes widened. you shot him a look, but beomgyu was still looking at the screen, pretending to be uninterested.
you didn’t know how to respond. not when your mind was racing with a thousand thoughts at once. you couldn’t deny the fact that yeonjun felt different now—more than just your best friend. but was he your boyfriend?
you glanced at yeonjun, who was sitting beside you, his attention still on the tv but with a slight tension in his posture that wasn’t usually there. his hand was resting near yours, and for a moment, you both just stared at it, neither of you moving.
“y/n?” beomgyu asked again, his tone light but insistent. “is he?”
you didn’t know what to say.
“i—I don’t know,” you mumbled, your voice barely audible. your fingers curled into your palm, a nervous habit, as you struggled to find the right words. “i... don’t think so?”
but as you said it, a strange feeling bloomed in your chest. you looked at yeonjun again, this time noticing the way his lips pressed together in a tight line, as if he was holding something back. he didn’t say anything, but you could feel the unspoken tension between you, the weight of the question hanging in the air.
your heart started to beat faster.
what was this? what had changed?
beomgyu must’ve sensed the hesitation in your voice because he didn’t push further. instead, he threw a wink in your direction, a playful grin on his face as he nudged your shoulder.
“if you say so,” he said teasingly, then leaned back, returning to the tv as if nothing had happened.
but you couldn’t focus on the show anymore. all you could think about was yeonjun, sitting beside you with his hand inches from yours.
when your brothers finally left the living room, giving you some much-needed space to think, you were left alone with yeonjun.
you sat in silence for a long moment, the air between you thick with unspoken words. your heart was pounding in your chest, and every breath felt heavy. you finally turned to him, finding his eyes already on you, a look of uncertainty in his gaze.
“yeonjun,” you said softly, breaking the silence. “are we... something else now?”
his gaze flickered, and for a moment, he didn’t answer. he just stared at you, his expression unreadable. but you could see the way his hand fidgeted nervously by his side, the way his fingers twitched, like he was waiting for you to say something.
finally, he let out a breath, his voice quieter than usual. “i don’t know,” he said honestly. “i’ve been wondering the same thing.”
you swallowed, your heart doing an odd flip in your chest. you hadn’t expected him to say that, and yet... it made sense. because how could it not be strange? you had both changed, and now you were walking this fine line between friendship and something more.
“it feels different, doesn’t it?” you whispered, your gaze dropping to your hands. “like, we’re not just... friends anymore. but we’re not... i don’t know what we are.”
yeonjun let out a soft chuckle, but there was no humor in it. just a trace of uncertainty. “yeah. it feels different to me too.”
for a long while, neither of you spoke. you both just sat there, side by side, in a silence that was no longer comfortable, but still familiar.
finally, yeonjun shifted, turning to face you more fully. his expression was soft, his eyes searching yours, as if trying to find something there.
“y/n,” he said quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. “i... don’t want to mess things up between us. i’ve known you forever, and i don’t want to lose that.”
you swallowed hard, nodding as you turned to face him fully. “me neither,” you replied, your voice trembling just slightly. “but i can’t pretend like things are the same anymore. i don’t want to lose you either, yeonjun. but...”
“but?” he prompted, his voice gentle.
“but... i don’t know what this is either,” you said, the words coming out before you could stop them. “i don’t know where this is going.”
yeonjun gave you a small, uncertain smile. “maybe that’s okay,” he said softly. “maybe we don’t have to know right now.”
you took a deep breath, letting his words settle in your chest. maybe it was okay not to know. maybe it was okay to just take things one step at a time.
you met his eyes, your gaze steady now, and for the first time in a long time, you felt the weight of the moment—the shift in your relationship, the change that was inevitable but still terrifying.
“we’ll figure it out, right?” you said, your voice soft but determined.
yeonjun smiled, the familiar, comforting smile that you had always loved. “yeah. we will.”
and with that, everything felt a little lighter. not perfect, not yet, but perhaps this is just the start of something more. something neither of you had expected.
the days following that conversation were filled with the same routine—talking for hours, hanging out with your brothers, laughing at jokes only the two of you understood—but everything felt different. there was a new kind of tension hanging in the air between you and yeonjun, something both thrilling and terrifying.
the little touches, the shared glances, the moments when your hands brushed—those things still happened, but now they carried a weight neither of you had ever acknowledged before. the silence between you two wasn’t awkward, but it wasn’t as comfortable either. you both had the same question hanging between you, unspoken, and it seemed impossible to ignore.
it was a quiet saturday evening when it all finally came to a head. the sun had set, leaving the sky painted in shades of deep blue, and you were sitting together on your porch. the cool night air wrapped around you both, but the warmth of yeonjun’s presence was enough to make it feel like the world had paused. your brothers had gone out, leaving you and yeonjun alone, a rare occurrence these days.
he was sitting beside you, his elbow resting lightly on the arm of the porch chair, and you were leaning back against the wall, legs stretched out in front of you. for a while, neither of you said anything. you just stared at the stars, lost in your own thoughts.
finally, yeonjun broke the silence.
“y/n,” he said softly, his voice almost a whisper.
you turned to look at him, heart suddenly racing. there was something in his eyes—something you hadn’t seen before, something that made your stomach flip.
“yeah?” you responded, your voice barely louder than his.
he hesitated for a moment, chewing on his bottom lip as if he were trying to find the right words. the air between you felt thick, like the world was holding its breath.
“i’ve been thinking a lot,” he started slowly, his gaze never leaving yours. “about us. about everything.”
you swallowed, unsure of what to say, but you didn’t look away either. the words you had both been avoiding were finally hanging in the air.
yeonjun took a deep breath, running a hand through his hair. “i don’t want to make things complicated, y/n,” he said, his voice quieter now, almost fragile. “but i can’t keep pretending that i don’t feel... something more. i can’t keep pretending that i don’t care about you in a way that’s different from anyone else. because i do. i do care about you.”
your heart was hammering in your chest, but you didn’t speak. you just watched him, feeling the weight of his words settle in your chest, filling the spaces you had been too afraid to acknowledge.
yeonjun’s eyes softened as he continued, his voice trembling slightly. “it’s scary, y/n. but i don’t want to keep hiding how i feel. i don’t want to lose you, but i can’t ignore it anymore. i’m in love with you.”
the words hit you like a wave. for a moment, everything stood still. time froze, the world faded away, and it was just the two of you, sitting in the soft glow of the streetlights, the sound of your hearts beating in sync.
“yeonjun,” you whispered, your voice thick with emotion. “i—i don’t know when it happened, but... i feel the same. i think i’ve felt the same for a while now.”
his eyes widened in surprise, as if he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. but then, a smile tugged at the corners of his lips—soft, relieved, and full of something you couldn’t quite name.
“you do?” he asked, his voice barely a whisper, as if he were afraid to hear the wrong answer.
“yeah,” you breathed, your heart feeling lighter now, the weight of uncertainty finally lifting. “i’m in love with you too, yeonjun.”
and then, just like that, it felt like everything clicked.
without another word, yeonjun closed the small distance between you, his hand finding yours, fingers intertwining in that familiar way that now felt like the most natural thing in the world. you smiled at him, your heart soaring with something new—something beautiful.
“i’ve wanted to hear you say that,” yeonjun murmured, his thumb gently stroking the back of your hand. “i’ve wanted to say it for so long.”
you chuckled softly, feeling like you were floating. “me too. i just... didn’t know how.”
he leaned in, his forehead resting gently against yours, and for the first time, you felt the certainty that this was right. there was no doubt, no fear. just the warmth of his breath mingling with yours, the soft rhythm of your hearts beating together in the stillness of the night.
“i don’t want to lose you, y/n,” he whispered, his voice full of raw sincerity. “i don’t care what happens next. i just want to be with you.”
“you won’t lose me,” you replied softly, your voice steady and full of conviction.
and in that moment, everything else faded away. there was only yeonjun, and only you, and the love that had bloomed between you in the most unexpected of ways. and for the first time in a long time, you felt like everything was exactly as it should be.
by the time of senior year at high school, both of you had already stepped into the roles that would define the rest of your high school lives: you, the school council president, and yeonjun, the captain of the basketball team. your schedules were packed—meetings, practice sessions, classwork, and the looming pressure of college applications—but somehow, despite the chaos, you both always found time for each other.
you remember one afternoon, a particularly grueling day of school, when the bell rang to signal the end of your final class. your brain was fried, your body sore from the endless meetings and responsibilities, but there was one thing you were looking forward to: lunch.
you glanced at your phone, seeing the message from yeonjun: "meet me at the usual spot. got 20 mins before practice."
it wasn’t much, but to you, it was everything. you texted back quickly: "see you there."
you headed to the courtyard behind the school, the spot where you’d spent so many of your afternoons together—hidden from the chaos, just the two of you, surrounded by the world but not quite a part of it. yeonjun was already waiting for you when you arrived, leaning against the wall, his hoodie pulled up over his head to shield him from the autumn wind.
“hey,” you greeted him, smiling, already feeling your heart lighten at the sight of him.
yeonjun grinned, his eyes lighting up when they landed on you. “hey, it’s been a minute, huh?”
you nodded, collapsing beside him. “feels like we’re ships passing in the night with our schedules lately.”
“yeah, i’ve been so swamped with basketball, i barely have time to think,” he said, leaning back against the brick wall, his hand finding yours instinctively. "but right now, all that matters is this."
you squeezed his hand, a smile tugging at your lips. “me too. this is the best part of my day.”
there was something so simple, so perfect, about the moments when it was just the two of you. the world could spin around you, and as long as you had this—just being together—it didn’t matter.
the bell rang, signaling that lunch was over. you sighed dramatically. “i wish we had more time,” you said, your voice tinged with a little sadness.
“me too,” yeonjun said softly. He shifted, pulling you into a brief, but tight hug. “but i’ll see you tonight, right? i can’t wait to just... be with you, even if it’s just for a little bit.”
you nodded, burying your face in his chest for a moment before pulling away. “of course. see you tonight.”
as you parted ways to go back to your respective duties, you felt a bittersweet tug in your chest. senior year was supposed to be the most exciting year, but sometimes, it felt like you were both drowning in expectations. between your responsibilities as president, his duties with the basketball team, and the pressure of college applications, it was hard to carve out enough time for each other. but when you did, it felt like everything.
that night, after you had managed to get through your meeting with the council, you finally collapsed into your bed, exhausted but happy. you barely had time to change out of your uniform before yeonjun was at your window, tapping gently with his knuckles, his face glowing from the soft light outside.
you slid the window open, and his familiar face filled your view. “hey,” he said, his voice full of warmth. “got a few minutes to spare?”
“you know i always do for you,” you replied, smiling as you climbed out of bed to open the window wider. yeonjun stepped inside, and you both sank into your comfort zone—no pretenses, just the two of you in your shared space.
“i missed you,” yeonjun admitted quietly, his hand finding its way to your back as you both sat on your bed.
“me too,” you said softly, leaning your head against his shoulder. “it feels like forever since we just... hung out.”
he chuckled. “we’re busy, aren’t we? but at least we have tonight.”
you smiled, threading your fingers through his. “yeah. tonight’s for us.”
for the next hour, you talked about everything—everything that wasn’t the stress of school or college. you found yourselves laughing about ridiculous things—like how you both dreamed of going to universities far away from each other just so you could become those long-distance couples who “would make it work,” only to be met with hilarious glances from your friends.
“so, what’s your dream university?” yeonjun asked, his eyes soft with curiosity.
you glanced up at him. “hmm, i’ve always wanted to go to stanford, but i think i’ll end up at somewhere more practical. how about you?”
yeonjun smiled, his expression thoughtful. “i always thought i’d be good at ucla, but i’ve been looking at nyu too. new york would be crazy.”
“oh, so we’ll be on opposite sides of the country?” you teased, raising an eyebrow.
“maybe,” yeonjun grinned, poking your side. “but i’ll make it work. as long as you’re with me, i’ll figure it out.”
you stared at him, feeling something stir in your chest. “yeonjun... if i get into nyu... would you... really?”
he turned to you, his expression suddenly serious, but there was a tenderness in his eyes that made your heart flutter. “of course. wherever you go, i go. i’ll always make time for you. we’ll figure it out.”
a warmth spread through you at his words, and you couldn’t help but lean in to kiss him. it was soft, lingering—an unspoken promise to keep fighting for each other, no matter what life threw at you.
the night grew quiet as you lay beside each other, tangled in blankets, your fingers still intertwined. the silence between you felt natural, comfortable. you spoke in soft murmurs about your futures, about your hopes and fears, but through it all, there was one constant: you had each other.
and that was all you really needed.
as the weeks passed, things didn’t slow down. you both threw yourselves into your respective roles with all the energy you had. but in the middle of it all, there was always a moment for the two of you—lunch breaks, stolen kisses, late-night texts, and moments just like this, when you could talk about your dreams and plans without the pressure of the world bearing down on you.
one late night, after an exhausting student council meeting, you and yeonjun found yourselves at your window again, sitting in the stillness of your room.
“you know, no matter how busy we get, i want to always make time for this,” yeonjun said quietly, his arm around your shoulders.
“me too,” you whispered, smiling. “you’re my rest.”
he laughed softly. “and you’re mine.”
and in that moment, wrapped in each other’s arms, you knew that no matter where life took you, you would always find your way back to each other.
midway through senior year, time seemed to slip faster than it ever had. it was as if the days were being written in invisible ink—one minute, you were discussing college applications, the next, you were at a university's entrance exam with yeonjun, sitting side by side in a room full of nervous energy, but somehow, both of you found peace in the shared silence.
you both had chosen paths that were worlds apart: you, determined to follow your dream of becoming a nurse, and yeonjun, with his passion for film and the arts. it was a strange contrast, but it was one you never questioned, never thought of as anything other than perfectly you and him.
one evening, months before the entrance exams, you were sitting in your room, the soft glow of your desk lamp illuminating the scattered papers around you. yeonjun had come over to study, though neither of you were really studying—just quietly existing in each other's company, as you often did.
“so, have you decided?” yeonjun’s voice broke through the silence, pulling you out of your thoughts.
“hmm?” you asked, glancing over at him. he was flipping through his sketchbook, clearly distracted by his thoughts.
“nursing. still?” he asked, his eyes catching yours, filled with a mixture of curiosity and understanding.
you nodded.
yeonjun hummed, a small smile playing on his lips. “it’s a good choice. i can totally see you in scrubs, saving lives and looking all badass.”
you chuckled, tossing your pen onto your desk. “and you? still film school?”
“yep,” he grinned, “i have always wanted to make films. tell stories in a way that makes people feel something, and i don’t think i could do anything else.”
you leaned back in your chair, gazing at him thoughtfully. “i love that. you’re so passionate about it. i think it’s the perfect choice for you.”
yeonjun’s eyes softened as he set his sketchbook aside, moving closer to you. “and you’re going to be an amazing nurse. i can already see it. you’ve got this caring side... it’s something special.”
you blushed slightly, not used to him being so sincere, but it made your heart flutter. “thank you, love,” you whispered.
he reached over, gently brushing a strand of hair behind your ear, his hand lingering at your cheek. the moment felt like a soft breath in a noisy world.
“we’re really different, aren’t we?” yeonjun murmured, his eyes tracing the contours of your face, as if committing this moment to memory.
you smiled. “yeah, but somehow, it works. we’re... stupidly compatible, aren’t we?”
yeonjun chuckled, his thumb brushing over your lips. “yeah, we are.”
you couldn’t help but smile at the irony of it all—without thinking, you leaned in, brushing your lips softly against his. the kiss was gentle, lingering, full of promises and unspoken words. it wasn’t grand, but it was everything you needed in that moment—simple and real.
“we’ve got this, huh?” yeonjun whispered as you pulled away, his forehead resting against yours.
“yeah, we do.”
college entrance exams loomed closer, and the weight of the future hung heavily over both of you. but somehow, amidst all the stress, you found little pockets of time for each other. moments of relief, of warmth, of shared smiles.
one afternoon, a few weeks before the exams, you both made a spontaneous decision to visit a couple of universities for your applications. you weren’t sure if it was the best use of your time—especially with your council duties taking up most of your schedule—but it felt like a moment of freedom in an otherwise chaotic year.
yeonjun, ever the spontaneous one, had suggested, “let’s go to the city. we’ll check out some campuses and maybe grab lunch afterward. just... breathe, you know?”
you’d agreed instantly.
walking around the campuses, you couldn’t help but feel the gravity of the future pressing in on you. but every time you caught yeonjun’s eye, a quiet reassurance settled in your chest. no matter what happened, you had each other.
as you visited one school after another, you both joked about what your lives might look like in the future. yeonjun, with his usual mischievous grin, would point to buildings and say, “this will be my studio. i’ll make my first movie here.”
you laughed, teasing him, “i thought you said you wanted to film in new york?”
“eh, i’ll make it work. i’m flexible,” he said with a wink, before pulling you closer by the hand. “and you’ll be in the hospital, saving lives. i’m already picturing you as the hottest nurse on the floor.”
“oh, stop it,” you said, but your cheeks flushed anyway.
it was simple moments like that—walking through crowded campuses with him, your fingers intertwined—that made everything feel like it was going to be okay.
the sound of papers shuffling and the faint hum of your office filled the room as you glanced at the clock. the game was starting in a few minutes, and you were still stuck at your desk, wrapping up council work. your phone buzzed, pulling your attention away from the endless to-do list. it was yeonjun.
yeonjun: game's about to start. you coming, right?
you: still at the office, love. trying to finish this proposal.
yeonjun: what? i thought you said you'd leave early today!
you: i tried! something urgent came up. i'm so sorry.
yeonjun: don’t stress. just… do your best to get here, okay?
you: i’ll be there, promise. even if it’s late.
yeonjun: okay… but if i don’t see you in the crowd, i’m blaming you if i miss a shot.
you: you’re gonna be amazing. now stop worrying about me and focus, mr. team captain.
yeonjun: only if you swear you’ll come.
you: i swear.
yeonjun: alright, i love you!
you smiled softly at the screen, mouthing “i love you more”, his nervous energy practically radiating through the text.
the clock ticked on, and you worked faster than you’d ever thought possible. your thoughts were divided—half on the council report in front of you, half on yeonjun. you couldn’t miss his last game, not after how much it meant to him.
finally, you slammed the folder shut and grabbed your bag, practically sprinting out of the office. the gym was only a ten-minute walk from school, but it felt like an eternity as you weaved through the crowds.
the stadium buzzed with electric anticipation, the crowd roaring as yeonjun’s basketball team prepared for their final game of the season. it was his last game as team captain, the culmination of years of dedication, and everyone could feel the weight of the moment. everyone except yeonjun, who was too busy scanning the stands, his heart sinking with every empty seat he saw.
he’d checked three times already, his eyes searching frantically for you. but you weren’t there.
he tried to shake off the disappointment, telling himself you were probably caught up with your council responsibilities. it wasn’t like you to break a promise, but the weight of senior year had been heavy on both of you. “it’s okay,” he murmured to himself as he adjusted his jersey, “i’ll win this one for her.”
the game started, and the first half was brutal. the opposing team was relentless, and though yeonjun played with his usual precision, something was off. his passes weren’t as sharp, his shots just a bit too cautious. his mind kept wandering back to you. where were you?
by halftime, his team was trailing by six points, and the coach’s pep talk barely registered in yeonjun’s ears. all he could think about was how much he wanted you to be there, to see him play one last time.
but then, as the second half began, everything changed.
by the time you arrived, the first half was already underway. the crowd’s cheers echoed through the stadium as you slipped into the stands, scanning the court for him.
there he was. yeonjun, in his captain’s jersey, his movements fluid but tense. his eyes flickered to the stands every few seconds, as if he were looking for something—or someone.
you waved frantically, hoping he’d see you.
it wasn’t until a timeout was called that his eyes finally landed on you. yeonjun stepped onto the court, ready to push through his nerves, when his eyes caught a familiar figure slipping into the stands. it was you. you were breathless, still dressed in your school blazer, your hair slightly disheveled from rushing, but you were there. and you were smiling at him. even from the distance, you saw the shift in his expression—the relief, the spark of determination. he grinned, just slightly, before turning back to his team.
the second half began, and yeonjun was unstoppable. it was as if seeing you had flipped a switch inside him. every play was sharper, every pass more precise. you could barely keep up with the game, your voice hoarse from cheering.
the final moments of the game were nail-biting. the score was tied, and the clock was ticking down. yeonjun had the ball, weaving through defenders, his eyes locked on the hoop. the gym seemed to hold its breath as he took the shot—a clean, perfect arc that sent the ball straight through the net.
the buzzer sounded, signaling their victory, and the crowd erupted into cheers. yeonjun’s teammates swarmed him, clapping his back and yelling in celebration, but his eyes weren’t on them.
his gaze darted to the stands, searching for you. and then he saw you, your arms extended wide, your smile brighter than the gym lights.
without a second thought, yeonjun broke away from his teammates and sprinted toward you. the crowd blurred into nothing as he reached you, wrapping his arms around you and lifting you off the ground.
“i thought you weren’t coming,” he murmured against your hair, his voice tinged with relief and disbelief.
you laughed softly, still catching your breath. “well, i was able to come here at halftime. something came up in the office, and i had to grind it out for 30 minutes.”
yeonjun pulled back just enough to look at you, his hands cupping your face. “oh, love, you don’t have to explain,” he said, a smile breaking across his lips. “what matters is you’re here now.”
you rolled your eyes playfully. “so cheesy, mr. mvp.”
he chuckled, his forehead resting against yours for a moment before he tilted his head and kissed you. it was a kiss filled with everything he hadn’t been able to say—the gratitude, the relief, the love.
you pulled away first, a soft laugh escaping your lips as his teammates called him back to the court for the celebration.
“we’ll celebrate later, yeah?” he said, his thumb brushing over your cheek.
you nodded, your smile unwavering. “i’ll wait right here.”
yeonjun hesitated, his hand lingering in yours, as if letting go would mean the moment would disappear.
“go,” you said, laughing softly.
he groaned playfully, leaning in to steal one last kiss, short and soft. “god, i love you,” he whispered, shaking his head as if he couldn’t believe it himself.
“i love you too,” you replied, and with that, he finally let go, running back to his teammates with a grin that could rival the sun.
as you watched him join the celebration, your heart swelled with pride and love. he turned back to look at you one last time, mouthing, “wait for me.” and you knew, no matter what came next, you’d always be there for him—just as he’d always be there for you.
after the game, the celebration was in full swing. the locker room had been a frenzy of cheers and shouts, the sound of victory carrying out into the hallways. yeonjun had barely made it through his team’s congratulations before he slipped away to find you waiting in the gym lobby, exactly where you said you’d be.
the second he spotted you, his smile lit up the entire room.
“there’s my good luck charm,” he said, pulling you into another hug, this one softer but no less tight. his jersey was damp from sweat, but you didn’t care. the warmth of his arms, the lingering adrenaline from the game—it made your heart race in a way you couldn’t explain.
“mvp and a charmer,” you teased, poking at his chest. “you’re on fire tonight.”
“and it’s all because of you,” he said, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering just long enough to make you blush.
“stop being so cheesy,” you mumbled, shoving him lightly, though you didn’t pull away.
he grinned, his eyes sparkling. “never. now, let’s go celebrate. my treat.”
you ended up at a cozy little diner near campus, one you both loved for its late-night snacks and quiet booths. the place was nearly empty, the hum of fluorescent lights and the distant clatter of dishes creating a soothing backdrop.
yeonjun slid into the booth beside you instead of across, his knee brushing against yours under the table.
“what are we having, champ?” you asked, flipping through the menu.
“everything,” he said, leaning his head against your shoulder. “we earned it.”
“we?” you raised an eyebrow, but the fondness in your tone gave you away.
“yeah, we. you were there, weren’t you? cheering me on, looking all cute in the stands?” he said, his voice dropping slightly, the teasing lilt making your cheeks heat up.
you nudged him, trying to hide your smile. “you’re ridiculous.”
“and you love it,” he shot back, pressing a quick kiss to your cheek.
the food came, a mix of fries, milkshakes, and whatever comfort food you could order without thinking. you shared everything, stealing bites from each other’s plates, laughing over nothing and everything.
at one point, yeonjun reached over to wipe a smudge of ketchup from your lip, his thumb lingering for just a second too long.
“you’re staring,” you said, your voice softer now, the playful edge replaced with something more vulnerable.
“can’t help it,” he said, his smile small but genuine. “you’re beautiful.”
you rolled your eyes, but your heart fluttered all the same. “you’re insufferable.”
“and yet, here you are, stuck with me,” he said, leaning in just close enough that his breath fanned against your skin.
“who says i’m stuck?” you challenged, though your voice betrayed you, a little breathless under his gaze.
he didn’t answer, not with words. instead, he closed the gap, his lips brushing against yours in a kiss that was slow and sweet, the kind that made time seem to stop.
when he pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, and he whispered, “thank you. for being here, for everything.”
“always,” you said, your hand finding his under the table, your fingers lacing together.
the walk home was quieter, the night air crisp against your skin. yeonjun draped his jacket over your shoulders despite your protests, his arm looping around your waist as he guided you down the familiar path.
“so,” he said, breaking the comfortable silence, “what’s the plan now? sleep? movie marathon? or...” his voice dipped, playful but suggestive, “something else?”
you laughed, shaking your head. “don’t push your luck, mr. mvp.”
“hey, can’t blame a guy for trying,” he said, grinning as he squeezed your side.
when you finally made it to your place, yeonjun didn’t let you go right away. he leaned against the doorframe, his hands resting lightly on your hips as he looked at you, his expression softer now.
“i mean it,” he said, his voice low. “tonight was one of the best nights of my life. and it wouldn’t have been the same without you.”
“you’re sappy,” you teased, though your smile betrayed how much his words meant to you.
“only for you,” he said, leaning down to kiss you again, this one deeper, leaving you both a little breathless.
when you finally pulled away, your fingers tugging at the collar of his shirt, you whispered, “you coming in, or are you just gonna stand out here all night?”
yeonjun laughed, his eyes glinting with mischief. “lead the way, love.”
you led yeonjun into your room, the soft click of the door behind him signaling a shift in the air. the night outside was quiet, the world hushed as if giving you both the space to exist only in this moment.
he tugged off his jacket, tossing it onto the chair in the corner, his movements unhurried but purposeful. his eyes found yours across the room, and the way he looked at you—soft, adoring, with just the slightest edge of something deeper—made your breath hitch.
“come here,” he murmured, his voice low and inviting.
you stepped closer, and as soon as you were within reach, his hands found your waist, pulling you gently but firmly into him. his touch was warm, grounding, the slight roughness of his fingertips brushing against the fabric of your shirt.
“you know,” he began, his lips quirking into a half-smile, “i don’t think i’ll ever get over how beautiful you look when you’re just... here. just being you.”
“you’re hopeless,” you replied softly, but your heart was racing.
“and you’re perfect,” he said, his tone so sincere it made your cheeks heat.
his hands slid up your back, guiding you closer until there was nothing between you but the rise and fall of your breaths. his forehead pressed against yours as his fingers traced idle patterns against your skin.
“yeonjun...” you whispered, your voice trailing off as he tilted his head, capturing your lips in a kiss that was slow and deliberate, the kind of kiss that felt like a promise.
the world seemed to blur as the kiss deepened, his hands anchoring you to him as if letting go wasn’t an option. your fingers found the nape of his neck, threading through the soft strands of his hair, pulling him even closer.
he guided you backward until the backs of your knees hit the edge of the bed, and you sank down, your hands tugging him with you. he followed willingly, bracing himself with his arms on either side of you, his weight a comforting presence.
“are you okay?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper, his eyes searching yours.
you nodded, your hands resting against his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath your palms. “more than okay.”
he smiled then, the kind of smile that reached his eyes, and leaned down to press a kiss to the corner of your mouth, then your jaw, then the sensitive spot just below your ear. the soft, trailing kisses sent a shiver down your spine, and you couldn’t help the quiet sound that escaped your lips.
his name fell from your mouth like a prayer, and it only spurred him on, his touch becoming more confident but never rushed. he moved slowly, his lips ghosting over your collarbone as his hands slid to your waist, his thumbs brushing the exposed skin where your shirt had ridden up.
“you’re so beautiful,” he murmured against your skin, the words making your cheeks flush even as they filled you with warmth.
you tugged him up, your lips finding his again in a kiss that was soft yet urgent, your fingers fisting the fabric of his shirt. he pulled back just enough to rest his forehead against yours, his breath mingling with yours as he whispered, “we don’t have to rush anything.”
“i know,” you said, your voice steady despite the rapid thrum of your heart. “but i trust you, yeonjun. with everything.”
his expression softened, and he leaned down to kiss you again, this time slower, pouring every unspoken word into the connection. time seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of you, wrapped in each other’s warmth, the world outside forgotten.
every touch, every kiss, every whispered word felt like a declaration—a quiet but certain acknowledgment of the love you shared, a love that was yours and his alone.
after the finals, you and yeonjun had been caught in the chaos of college applications. despite the hectic schedules, the two of you always found moments to spend together, whether it was studying side by side, sneaking in late-night phone calls, or holding hands during walks to clear your minds.
when the acceptance letters came, excitement quickly mingled with a bittersweet feeling. you’d both been accepted into universities in new york, but they weren’t the same one. you had hoped, deep down, that fate would place you in the same halls, but it seemed like it had other plans.
“it’s okay,” yeonjun reassured you one evening as you lay curled up on his bed, your head on his chest. his fingers absentmindedly traced circles on your back. “we’ll figure it out. new york isn’t that big, and we’ll still be close enough to annoy each other whenever we want.”
you laughed softly, the sound muffled against his shirt. “but what if it gets too hard? what if we’re too busy?”
he tilted your chin up, his eyes meeting yours with the kind of certainty that made your chest tighten. “then we’ll make time. besides, I already have a plan.”
“a plan?” you asked, raising a brow.
“we’ll live together,” he said simply, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.
you blinked at him, surprised. “together?”
“yeah,” he said, grinning. “you’re not getting rid of me that easily.”
the reassurance in his voice soothed the small ache that had settled in your chest.
when senior graduation came, the bittersweetness of the moment was palpable. the ceremony was a blur of caps, gowns, and speeches. when your name was called, you walked across the stage to receive your leadership award, the applause echoing in your ears. but it wasn’t the applause that made your heart swell—it was the sight of yeonjun standing in the crowd, clapping the loudest, his smile brighter than anyone else’s.
“congratulations, president,” he teased later as he met you outside the auditorium, wrapping his arms around you in a hug that lifted you off your feet.
“thank you, mr. mvp,” you shot back, grinning.
as the night wound down and the celebrations faded, yeonjun leaned close, his breath warm against your ear. “i have something for you,” he said softly.
“oh?” you asked, tilting your head to look at him.
“i’ll give it to you later,” he said, his smile tinged with mystery.
later turned out to be when the two of you were alone in your room, the soft glow of your bedside lamp casting warm light over the space. yeonjun reached into his pocket and pulled out a small red velvet box, handing it to you with a slightly nervous smile.
your fingers trembled slightly as you opened the small red velvet box he’d handed you. inside, resting on the cushion, was a shiny key. confusion knit your brows together as you looked up at him.
“what’s this for?” you asked softly, voice barely above a whisper.
yeonjun’s gaze softened, his lips curling into that familiar, heart-melting smile that he reserved just for you. “our home,” he murmured.
your breath hitched. “our home?” you echoed, the words feeling surreal as they left your lips.
he nodded, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear as he leaned closer, his voice warm and steady. “yeah. for college. i’ve been saving for a while, and with the consolation prize from the mvp award, i was able to pay the down payment for an apartment in new york.”
you stared at him, wide-eyed, emotions welling up in your chest. the effort, the thoughtfulness, the sheer love behind his gesture left you speechless.
“it’s not huge or anything,” he continued, chuckling nervously. “but it’s ours. one room—our room. and there’s a little kitchen, a cozy living area, and—”
you didn’t let him finish. overwhelmed, you leaned forward, your lips finding his in a kiss that was soft but filled with every ounce of gratitude and love you couldn’t put into words. you couldn’t stop the tears from falling as you launch yourself into his arms, holding him as tightly as you could. “yeonjun,” you whispered, your voice trembling.
he held you just as tightly, his hand coming up to gently cradle the back of your head. “hey, don’t cry,” he murmured, his lips brushing against your temple.
“i can’t believe you did this,” you said, pulling back slightly to look at him, your eyes shining with unshed tears.
“of course, i did,” he said, his smile warm and unwavering. “i told you—we’ll figure it out. i just wanted to make sure we had a place that felt like home, no matter how busy things get.”
his breath caught for a second before he melted into you, his hand cupping your cheek as his thumb gently swiped away a stray tear that had escaped. you pulled back just slightly, enough to rest your forehead against his.
“yeonjun,” you whispered, voice trembling. “you didn’t have to—”
“but i wanted to,” he cut you off gently, his eyes searching yours. “i know we’re going to different universities, and that scares me too. but i want us to have something that’s ours. a place where we can come back to each other. where you don’t have to worry about missing me because i’ll always be right there.”
a fresh wave of tears threatened to fall, but this time you laughed through them, shaking your head. “you’re impossible, you know that?”
“yeah,” he said, grinning. “but you love me anyway.”
you nodded, letting out a soft laugh as you pressed your lips to his again, your hands framing his face this time. he kissed you back slowly, his lips moving against yours like a silent promise. when you pulled back, your voice was barely audible, thick with emotion.
“i don’t know what i did to deserve you,” you said.
“funny,” he replied, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “i think the same thing about you every day.”
the two of you sat there for a moment, the red velvet box now forgotten on the bed. yeonjun shifted, lying back and pulling you with him until you were resting against his chest, your legs tangled together like they always seemed to end up.
“our home,” you repeated softly, the words feeling warm and hopeful.
“our home,” he confirmed, pressing a kiss to your temple.
you couldn’t hold back anymore. you kissed him again, your lips meeting his in a soft but fervent expression of everything you couldn’t put into words. he kissed you back just as deeply, his hands coming up to frame your face, thumbs brushing away the tears that spilled down your cheeks.
when you finally pulled back, your foreheads resting together, you whispered, “i love you so much.”
his smile widened, his own voice soft as he replied, “i love you more.”
and just like that, with his heartbeat steady beneath your ear and the promise of a future together in the key you held, the world outside didn’t seem so big or so daunting anymore. it was you and yeonjun—just as it had always been, and just as it always would be.
the days following graduation were a whirlwind of packing, paperwork, and last-minute errands. the reality of leaving for college loomed closer, and while the excitement of starting a new chapter in new york buzzed in the air, there was an undercurrent of bittersweetness as you prepared to leave the familiar behind. every corner of your room, every street you walked with yeonjun, every little mundane routine now carried a weight it hadn’t before, like it was all slipping through your fingers faster than you were ready for.
yeonjun, of course, had a way of keeping you grounded amidst the chaos. he made the busy moments feel lighter, turning even the most tedious tasks into something memorable.
“who knew packing could be this romantic?” he teased one afternoon as you sorted through a pile of old clothes. he was lounging on your bed, flipping through a magazine you’d almost thrown out, while you tried to decide which t-shirts to keep and which to donate.
“romantic?” you echoed, raising an eyebrow. “how exactly is this romantic?”
“because it’s us,” he said simply, setting the magazine down and leaning on his elbows. “even folding laundry with you feels special.”
you threw a balled-up sock at him, laughing when he dramatically pretended to dodge it. “you’re such a dork.”
“a dork you’re moving to new york with,” he reminded you with a wink, and you couldn’t help but smile at that.
sometimes, though, the moments weren’t about productivity at all. they were about soaking in the last bits of quiet together before life inevitably got busier. one afternoon, the two of you found yourselves sitting on the floor of your nearly empty bedroom, surrounded by boxes. the sunlight streamed through the window, casting a warm glow over everything. yeonjun reached into one of the boxes and pulled out a framed photo of the two of you from your junior year.
it was from one of your first official dates—a trip to the local fair. in the picture, you were laughing at something, your head tilted toward him, while he grinned at the camera, his arm draped casually around your shoulders.
“this one’s coming with us,” he said decisively, holding it up like it was the most important thing in the room.
you scooted closer, peering at the photo. “obviously,” you said, rolling your eyes playfully. “i can’t believe you still have that goofy grin in every photo.”
“what can i say? you make me happy,” he said, his tone teasing but sincere.
you nudged him with your shoulder, a smile tugging at your lips. “cheesy.”
“but true,” he countered, leaning in to press a quick kiss to your cheek.
the kiss lingered for a moment longer than either of you expected, and when he pulled back, his eyes searched yours. “i know we’ll be busy with school and everything, but... this? us? it’s what keeps me grounded,” he said softly.
you reached up, brushing a strand of hair from his face. “same here,” you admitted. “no matter how hectic things get, we’ll figure it out. together.”
he smiled at that, the kind of smile that made your chest tighten in the best way.
later that evening, as the two of you sat on your bed, surrounded by half-packed boxes and the remnants of your childhood room, yeonjun pulled out his phone and started playing a playlist he’d made for you.
“what’s this?” you asked, leaning against his shoulder.
“a soundtrack for new york,” he said, grinning. “thought we could use some good vibes for the road trip.”
“you’re really planning everything, aren’t you?”
“of course,” he said, kissing the top of your head. “i want to make sure it’s perfect for you.”
you didn’t say it out loud, but in that moment, you knew that as long as you had him, it already was.
when the day finally came to move, the two of you stood in the doorway of your new apartment, staring at the blank canvas that would soon become your home. the faint hum of the city buzzed through the open window, a reminder that this was the beginning of something new, something entirely your own.
“it’s perfect,” you said softly, stepping inside and letting your fingers trail along the smooth surface of the kitchen counter.
yeonjun set down the box he was carrying and walked up behind you, his arms wrapping around your waist like they belonged there. “it’ll be even better once we make it ours,” he murmured, his chin resting on your shoulder.
you leaned back into him, letting the warmth of his presence settle your nerves. “ours,” you repeated, the word feeling both unfamiliar and deeply comforting.
the day passed in a flurry of activity—unpacking boxes, arranging furniture, and debating over the smallest details. yeonjun insisted the couch should face the window to take advantage of the natural light, while you argued it would make more sense angled toward the wall where a TV could eventually go.
“we don’t even have a TV yet,” he pointed out, laughing as he balanced the couch on its side to test your suggestion.
“but we will,” you shot back, hands on your hips as you watched him struggle. “and when we do, you’ll thank me.”
“sure, sure,” he teased, finally setting the couch down in what he begrudgingly admitted was a decent spot.
by the time the sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky in hues of orange and pink, the apartment was still far from finished. there were half-unpacked boxes stacked against the walls, and the dining table was still in pieces in the corner. yet, somehow, it already felt like home.
later that night, as you lay on the bed—the only piece of furniture you’d managed to fully set up—yeonjun pulled you close, his arm draped over your waist and his face nuzzling into the crook of your neck. the mattress was still bare, and the faint smell of fresh paint lingered in the air, but none of that mattered.
“you know,” he murmured, his voice low and laced with exhaustion, “i was worried this would feel too fast or too much, but it doesn’t. it just feels right.”
you turned to face him, your fingers brushing the hair from his forehead, smoothing it back as his eyes met yours. “that’s because it is right,” you said softly, your words carrying the weight of your certainty. you leaned in, capturing his lips in a kiss that was slow and lingering, a reflection of everything you felt but didn’t need to say out loud.
when you pulled back, yeonjun’s eyes searched yours, his expression tender in the dim light filtering through the window. “thank you,” he said suddenly, his voice barely above a whisper.
you frowned slightly, your brows knitting together. “for what?”
“for believing in us,” he said, his thumb tracing gentle circles against your hip. “for making this feel like the best decision i’ve ever made.”
your chest tightened, a wave of emotion washing over you as his words settled in. “you don’t have to thank me for that,” you said, your voice breaking just slightly as you tried to contain the depth of what you felt. “i’d choose us every time.”
his smile was soft, almost shy, as he leaned in to press a kiss to your forehead. “me too,” he whispered against your skin, the warmth of his breath sending a shiver down your spine.
you lay there for a while, tangled in each other as the city lights outside cast a soft glow over the room. his fingers traced lazy patterns along your arm, and you found yourself lulled by the steady rhythm of his breathing.
“this is it, huh?” you murmured after a moment, your voice filled with both awe and disbelief.
“this is it,” he confirmed, his hand finding yours and threading your fingers together.
it wasn’t perfect yet—there were still boxes to unpack, challenges to face, and a lifetime of moments to fill the space you now called home. but as you drifted off to sleep in yeonjun’s arms, the quiet hum of the city serving as your lullaby, you knew that this was the start of something beautiful. and that was more than enough.
the first few weeks of college were a blur for both you and yeonjun. between adjusting to new schedules, navigating unfamiliar campuses, and diving into coursework, it was easy to feel overwhelmed. yet, despite the demands of your separate universities, the two of you were determined to make your relationship the anchor that kept you steady.
every morning started the same way: with yeonjun’s groggy voice mumbling your name from the other side of the bed. “five more minutes,” he groaned one morning, his face buried in the pillow.
“you said that ten minutes ago,” you teased, tugging at the blanket he had wrapped around himself like a cocoon. “if you don’t get up now, you’re going to miss your bus.”
he groaned louder, finally rolling onto his back with his hair sticking out in every direction. “this is why i need you around. without you, i’d probably just sleep through life.”
“and here i thought it was my charming personality that won you over,” you replied, grinning as you threw a pillow at him.
breakfasts during the week were a chaotic rush of toast, coffee, and sometimes sharing a banana as you both scrambled to get out the door. but weekends were a different story entirely. saturday mornings became your time to slow down and just be together.
one saturday, yeonjun decided he was going to make pancakes. “how hard can it be?” he asked, confidently holding up the box of pancake mix.
“famous last words,” you muttered, watching him as he squinted at the instructions on the box.
the first pancake came out lumpy, the second one burned, and by the time he attempted the third, the kitchen was filled with smoke. “maybe i should take over,” you suggested, biting your lip to keep from laughing as yeonjun fanned the smoke detector with a towel.
“absolutely not,” he declared, his determination shining through the chaos. “i’m going to make at least one decent pancake if it kills me.”
eventually, he managed to make a stack that was somewhat edible, and the two of you sat at the kitchen table, laughing as you drowned the pancakes in syrup to mask their slightly charred taste. “see?” he said, pointing his fork at you. “i told you i could do it.”
“sure,” you replied, smirking. “with a little help from mr. syrup and ms. butter.”
in the evenings, no matter how hectic your days had been, you always made time to reconnect. some nights, you’d cook dinner together, bumping into each other in the tiny kitchen as you experimented with recipes you found online. one night, yeonjun insisted on making pasta, only to realize halfway through that you were out of garlic.
“how am i supposed to impress you without garlic?” he lamented dramatically, holding up the empty container.
“you’ll just have to rely on your charm,” you teased, handing him a wooden spoon to stir the sauce.
other nights, you’d order takeout and sprawl out on the couch, sharing stories about your classes and professors. “my econ professor is a literal drill sergeant,” yeonjun said one night, his head resting on your lap as he scrolled through his phone. “he assigned a ten-page paper on the second day of class.”
“sounds like a nightmare,” you said, absentmindedly running your fingers through his hair. “at least you don’t have to deal with group projects.”
“ah, the classic college experience,” he replied, smirking. “if anyone gives you trouble, just let me know. i’ll intimidate them with my charm.”
“yeah, i’m sure your puppy-dog eyes will really strike fear into their hearts,” you said, rolling your eyes.
he grinned, reaching up to pinch your cheek. “don’t underestimate these eyes. they’ve gotten me out of plenty of trouble.”
some nights, you didn’t do much of anything at all. you’d curl up on the couch, the tv playing softly in the background, and just talk. those conversations ranged from the mundane—like what to cook for dinner the next day—to the profound.
“i think i’m starting to figure out what i want to do,” yeonjun said one night, his voice thoughtful as he stared at the ceiling.
“oh yeah? what’s that?” you asked, turning your head to look at him.
“something creative,” he said. “i don’t know what exactly, but i want to make things that mean something to people.”
you smiled, reaching over to take his hand. “you’re already amazing. whatever you choose, you’ll be great at it.”
he turned his head to meet your gaze. “and you? what’s your big plan?”
you hesitated, shrugging. “i don’t know yet. but i think as long as i’m happy and i have you, i’ll figure it out.”
he squeezed your hand, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. “we’ll figure it out together.”
and that’s how it went. your days were hectic, filled with classes, assignments, and the occasional stress-induced breakdown. but your nights were yours—little pockets of time where the rest of the world faded away, leaving just the two of you. no matter how busy life got, you always found your way back to each other, and that was all that mattered.
the love between you and yeonjun wasn’t loud or flashy; it was in the little things, the small, unspoken acts that made life a little easier, a little brighter. the kind of love that wasn’t about grand gestures but about being there for each other in the moments that mattered most.
one night, after pulling an all-nighter for a paper due the next day, you stumbled into the apartment looking like a zombie. your backpack hung off one shoulder, barely clinging on as you trudged through the door. your eyes were red and puffy, and your hair was a chaotic mess that even you couldn’t care to fix. yeonjun was sitting on the couch, scrolling through his phone, but the moment he saw you, his face shifted into a mix of concern and tenderness.
“you look like you just survived a war,” he said, setting his phone down and standing up to meet you.
“it feels like i did,” you mumbled, dropping your bag unceremoniously to the floor before collapsing onto the couch.
yeonjun followed you, crouching in front of you so he could look into your eyes. his hand reached up, brushing a stray strand of hair out of your face. “did you eat anything today?” he asked softly, his voice full of worry.
you shook your head, too drained to explain that you hadn’t even thought about food between your back-to-back classes and endless study sessions. without another word, yeonjun stood up and disappeared into the kitchen. you leaned back against the cushions, your body sinking into the familiar comfort of the couch, and let out a long sigh.
a few minutes later, yeonjun returned with a steaming bowl of ramen, the smell immediately making your stomach growl. he had even added a soft-boiled egg and a sprinkle of green onions on top, the way he knew you liked it.
“here,” he said, sitting down beside you and holding out the bowl. “eat this. it’ll help.”
you blinked at him, the exhaustion momentarily replaced by a wave of gratitude. “you didn’t have to do that,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper.
“shh,” he said, cutting you off as he grabbed the chopsticks and guided them toward your lips. “just eat. no arguments.”
you opened your mouth obediently, letting him feed you the first bite. the warmth of the broth spread through you instantly, soothing the ache in your chest and stomach. as you continued eating, yeonjun stayed by your side, his eyes never leaving you. he made sure the bowl didn’t tip, nudging it closer whenever your hands started to falter from sheer exhaustion.
“you’re too good to me,” you said between bites, your voice heavy with emotion.
“someone has to be,” he replied, a soft smile tugging at his lips. “you don’t exactly make it easy for yourself.”
when you finished, yeonjun took the empty bowl back to the kitchen, returning a few minutes later with a glass of water. he handed it to you, watching as you drank before gently pulling you to your feet.
“come on,” he said, his arm slipping around your waist to steady you. “you’re going to bed.”
“but i still have—”
“nope,” he interrupted, guiding you toward the bedroom. “whatever it is, it can wait. you need to rest.”
once you were in bed, yeonjun pulled the blankets up to your chin, tucking you in like you were the most precious thing in the world. his hand lingered on your forehead for a moment, checking for any signs of a fever.
“sleep,” he whispered, leaning down to press a soft kiss to your temple. “i’ll wake you up in time for class.”
you closed your eyes, the weight of the day finally lifting as his warmth and care enveloped you. as you drifted off, you couldn’t help but think how lucky you were to have someone like yeonjun—someone who always knew exactly what you needed, even when you didn’t know it yourself.
the next morning, you woke up to the soft light filtering through the blinds, casting a gentle glow across the room. for a moment, you just lay there, trying to remember where you were, what day it was, and why you felt so much better than you had the night before. as your mind cleared, you realized that yeonjun had kept his promise. you weren’t exhausted anymore, the weight of the all-nighter lifted by the sleep you’d gotten.
you stretched, feeling the satisfying crack of your back, and turned to check the time. to your surprise, it was still early. your phone buzzed on the nightstand, and you reached over to grab it, seeing a message from yeonjun.
“good morning sleepyhead. i’ll make sure you’re not late for class, promise.”
a smile tugged at your lips as you texted back.
“thanks for last night. i actually feel human again.”
a few seconds later, your phone buzzed again.
“of course. now get up, i made you breakfast.”
you blinked, confused at first, before the realization hit. breakfast? he actually made breakfast? with a groan, you pushed yourself out of bed and pulled on your robe, heading for the kitchen. as soon as you walked in, you were hit with the delicious smell of eggs and toast, and you saw yeonjun standing at the stove, flipping something in the pan.
“good morning,” he said, turning around with a bright smile. “i didn’t burn it this time, i swear.”
you chuckled, leaning against the doorframe. “you made breakfast?” you asked, a little in awe.
“yep. i thought i’d take care of you for once,” he replied, setting the plate down on the table. “i wasn’t sure what you wanted, so i made a little of everything.”
the table was laid out with eggs, toast, some fruit, and a pot of tea. it wasn’t anything extravagant, but the care he put into it made it feel special. you sat down, feeling a warm rush of affection for him.
“this is perfect,” you said softly, picking up your fork. “thank you.”
yeonjun sat across from you, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “you’re welcome, but only if you promise to eat it all. i spent a solid twenty minutes on the eggs.”
“deal,” you said, taking a bite. “these are really good. did you learn how to make eggs from youtube?”
“i might’ve watched a few videos,” he admitted with a sheepish grin. “but it’s not as easy as it looks. i almost ruined them, actually.”
you laughed, feeling a little lighter than you had the day before. as you ate, you both fell into a comfortable silence, the kind that only came with time spent together. it was these moments, the quiet ones where you didn’t need to say much, that made you feel the most connected to him.
after breakfast, yeonjun stood up to clean the dishes, but you stopped him. “i’ll do it,” you said, getting up from the table.
“no, i’ve got it,” he insisted, pushing you back toward the couch. “you just relax. you’ve got a long day ahead.”
you rolled your eyes but let him take the dishes anyway, knowing he wouldn’t relent. as you sat back down on the couch, you scrolled through your phone, mentally preparing for the day. it wasn’t until yeonjun finished the dishes and returned to sit beside you that you realized something: you weren’t dreading the day like you usually did after an all-nighter.
you felt light. you felt like you could handle whatever came your way. and you realized it was because of him—because yeonjun always knew how to make everything feel easier, how to make the hardest days seem a little less overwhelming.
he nudged your shoulder, pulling you out of your thoughts. “ready to go?” he asked, offering his hand.
you smiled, taking his hand as you stood up. “yeah. but only because you’re with me.”
he grinned, that familiar, comforting smile that made your heart flutter. “always,” he said, his voice soft but sure. “i’ll always be with you.”
and as you both walked out the door together, side by side, you knew that no matter how hard the day might get, as long as yeonjun was by your side, everything would be okay.
and then the rainy days.
rainy days were never your favorite. you hated the way the damp air clung to your skin, the cold chill that seemed to seep into your bones no matter how many layers you wore. but the thing you hated most was carrying an umbrella. it always felt too bulky, too inconvenient, and you’d often complain about it when the weather turned. the thought of lugging around an umbrella for hours just didn’t sit right with you, and yet, you always ended up doing it.
but then there was yeonjun.
yeonjun, who somehow made it his personal mission to make sure you never had to carry an umbrella again. he had noticed early on how much you disliked it, how you’d sigh and grumble when it started raining, and how you’d leave your umbrella in your bag, trying to avoid the hassle of opening it. and so, whenever the weather turned gray, yeonjun was there, always with an umbrella in hand, ready to protect you from the downpour.
one particularly rainy afternoon, you were at the library, buried under a mountain of books, trying to finish an assignment that had been eating up your time all week. the rain had started coming down in sheets, and you could hear it tapping against the windows, the sound almost rhythmic. you were so focused on your work that you hadn’t even noticed your phone buzzed until a few minutes later.
yeonjun: stay put. i’m on my way.
you frowned at the message, glancing out the window. the rain was relentless, and the idea of walking to the bus stop in it made you groan. you texted back, halfheartedly: it’s fine, i’ll be okay.
but yeonjun didn’t take “it’s fine” for an answer. he knew you too well. just as you were packing up your things, trying to brace yourself for the walk, you saw him.
he walked into the library, his hair damp from the rain, his coat slightly clinging to his shoulders from the wetness. despite the storm outside, there he was, with that same soft, confident smile that always seemed to make your heart skip a beat. and in his hand was the umbrella.
“yeonjun,” you said, feeling a warmth spread through your chest despite the chill in the air. “you didn’t have to come all the way here.”
he just shrugged, looking at you with that playful glint in his eyes. “and let you walk in the rain? no way.”
you rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the small smile tugging at your lips. “seriously, i can handle it. it’s not that bad.”
he shook his head, holding the umbrella up over both of you as you stepped outside into the downpour. “i’m not letting you handle it. you’ll catch a cold.”
“yeonjun, you’re going to get soaked,” you pointed out, as the rain continued to fall heavily.
“don’t worry about me,” he said, his voice light. “i’m fine. now, let’s go.”
as you walked together toward the bus stop, yeonjun adjusted the umbrella, tilting it more toward you to make sure you stayed dry. you couldn’t help but notice how his shoulder was getting soaked, the water dripping down his sleeve, but he didn’t seem to care.
“yeonjun,” you scolded, trying to nudge the umbrella back toward him. “stop. you’re getting wet.”
he looked down at you with a mischievous grin. “stop worrying about me. i’m taller. i can handle a little rain.”
you shook your head, laughing despite yourself. “you’re impossible.”
but even as you scolded him, you secretly loved how thoughtful he was. it was in the little things he did, the way he always thought of you before himself, the way he made sure you were okay before he even considered his own comfort.
the two of you continued walking in comfortable silence, the sound of the rain falling around you and the soft shuffle of your footsteps filling the space. yeonjun’s shoulder kept getting wetter, but he never complained. he just kept that same warm, steady smile on his face as he focused on making sure you were dry.
as you neared the bus stop, you glanced up at him, realizing how lucky you were to have someone like him. someone who would go out of his way, rain or shine, to make sure you were okay.
“thank you,” you said quietly, your voice soft.
as you neared the bus stop, you glanced up at him, realizing how lucky you were to have someone like him. someone who would go out of his way, rain or shine, to make sure you were okay.
“thank you,” you said quietly, your voice soft.
yeonjun’s smile was gentle as he looked down at you, his eyes filled with affection. “you don’t have to thank me,” he replied, his tone sincere. “i’ll always be here for you, rain or shine.”
you couldn’t help but feel your heart swell at his words. it was moments like these, when he wasn’t saying much but his actions spoke louder than anything, that made you realize just how much he cared. you stood there for a moment, feeling the warmth of his presence, even with the cold rain still pouring down around you.
when the bus finally arrived, you both got on, settling into your seats in comfortable silence. as the bus ride went on, you found yourself leaning into him, the chill from the rain still lingering on your skin. yeonjun’s hand found yours, squeezing it gently as if to reassure you that he was still there, still taking care of you.
when you reached your apartment, you both hurried inside, eager to escape the dampness of the rain. the warmth of the apartment wrapped around you, a stark contrast to the cold air outside. yeonjun hung his wet coat on the rack, then turned to you, his eyes locking onto yours. there was a softness to his gaze, but also something deeper, something more intense.
without saying a word, he closed the distance between you, his hands gently cupping your face. the cold from the rain still clung to his skin, but it didn’t matter. you could feel the heat radiating between the two of you, the connection that was always there, but tonight, it felt stronger.
and then, he kissed you.
it started slow, tentative, as if he was savoring the moment. but as the kiss deepened, it became more urgent, the need for each other rising with every touch. the coldness of the rain outside was quickly forgotten, replaced by the warmth of his lips, the heat of his body pressed against yours. you melted into him, your hands finding their way to his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath your fingertips.
you pulled away for a moment, breathless, but yeonjun wasn’t ready to stop. his lips trailed down your neck, sending shivers down your spine, and you let out a soft gasp, your hands tangling in his hair. the world outside seemed to disappear, leaving just the two of you in this small, intimate space.
“yeonjun…” you whispered, your voice shaky from the intensity of the kiss.
“shh,” he murmured against your skin, his hands slipping to your waist, pulling you closer. “let me take care of you.”
the night stretched on like that, the two of you lost in each other, the coldness of the rain replaced by the warmth of your bodies.
yeonjun wasn’t the only one who cared. you had your ways of looking after him too.
one evening, after he came home from a long day of classes and basketball practice, he flopped onto the couch with a groan. “i think my legs are going to fall off,” he muttered, collapsing onto the cushions with a dramatic sigh.
you walked over and sat beside him, already feeling the exhaustion radiating from his body. your hands instinctively reached for his shoulders, finding the tightness in his muscles. “let me help,” you said softly, beginning to knead the knots that had formed after hours of practice and running.
he let out a deep sigh, his head dropping forward as you worked on his neck. “you’re too good to me,” he murmured, his voice thick with exhaustion.
you smiled as you pressed a little harder, working your fingers into the tension. “someone has to take care of you,” you said, your tone playful yet affectionate. “besides, you deserve it. you’ve been working so hard.”
he groaned again, a contented sound escaping him as the pressure of your hands began to soothe his sore muscles. “if you keep doing this, i’m going to start thinking you’re an angel sent to fix me,” he joked, but his voice held a softness that made you melt.
you leaned forward slightly, your hands gliding down his back, finding more areas that needed attention. “well, i’ll take the credit for now,” you teased, “but seriously, you need to rest more. basketball practice and schoolwork don’t have to take over everything.”
“yeah, but you know me,” he said with a lazy smile, “i’ve got to keep pushing myself.”
“you’re allowed to take a break,” you replied, pressing your thumb into a particularly tense spot. “you can’t always be the one pushing forward.”
“i know, i know,” he muttered, clearly enjoying the attention. “but with you taking care of me like this, it makes it all worth it.”
your heart fluttered at his words, and you leaned down to press a soft kiss to the top of his head. “i don’t mind,” you whispered. “i love looking after you.”
he turned his head slightly, meeting your gaze with a look that made your chest tighten. “remind me to marry you one day,” he said, his voice low but filled with sincerity. though his words were light, there was a warmth in his tone that made your cheeks flush.
you chuckled, the soft pink of your cheeks growing deeper as you continued to work on his shoulders. “maybe i will,” you teased, giving him another kiss on the top of his head, this time lingering for a moment longer.
he smiled, his eyes half-lidded in contentment as he relaxed further into the couch, letting you take care of him. “well, i’m glad to know i’ve got someone like you looking out for me.”
you leaned back, letting your hands rest gently on his shoulders as you gazed at him with a soft smile. “always,” you whispered. “always.”
and when yeonjun found out he’d earned a spot on his university’s basketball team—and a scholarship to go with it—he couldn’t contain his excitement.
“i did it!” he yelled, bursting into the apartment and nearly tackling you in a hug. you barely had time to react before he had you lifted off the ground, spinning you around with an energy that made your heart race.
“yeonjun!” you laughed, your breath caught in your throat as you clung to him for support. “put me down!”
he didn’t seem to hear you at first, still caught up in his excitement, but finally, with a wide grin on his face, he set you down gently, his arms lingering around you, pulling you closer as if to keep you in the moment with him.
his eyes sparkled with an intensity that made your heart swell. “i made the team,” he said, his voice a mix of disbelief and pride. “and i got the scholarship. i can’t believe it.”
you cupped his face in your hands, your smile spreading across your face as you looked at him. “i’m so proud of you,” you said, your voice filled with affection. you could see the relief and happiness radiating from him, and it made your chest tighten with joy.
“i couldn’t have done it without you,” he said softly, his voice laced with sincerity. his hands slid down to your waist, pulling you even closer as he looked into your eyes, as if to say he truly meant it.
you chuckled, shaking your head as you wrapped your arms around him. “yes, you could’ve,” you teased, nudging him with your elbow. “you’re incredible on your own. but i’m glad i could be here for you.”
he grinned, his eyes twinkling with that mischievous glint you loved so much. “well, it’s nice to know i have someone cheering me on, even when i feel like giving up.” he pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, his hands still resting on your hips, holding you in the quiet joy of the moment.
later that night, after a celebratory dinner of takeout and a cheap bottle of wine you’d picked up from the corner store, you sat on the couch, the soft buzz of the alcohol making the evening feel even more relaxed. the warmth of the apartment wrapped around you both, and yeonjun was sitting close, his arm draped over your shoulder, his fingers gently tracing circles on your skin.
as you clinked your glasses together, toasting to his success, yeonjun looked at you, his expression softening as he set his glass down on the coffee table. “i really couldn’t have done it without you,” he said again, his voice lower now, filled with a quiet sincerity that made your heart flutter. “you’ve always been there for me, supporting me through everything.”
you felt a lump form in your throat, the weight of his words hitting you deeper than you expected. you swallowed and smiled, brushing your thumb over his hand. “i’m just glad i could be here. i wouldn’t have it any other way.”
he pulled you closer, his lips brushing against your temple in a tender kiss. “you’ve always believed in me, even when i didn’t believe in myself,” he murmured. “i think that’s what really pushed me to make it this far.”
you snuggled into his side, feeling the warmth of his body against yours. “you were always capable of this,” you whispered, resting your head against his shoulder. “i’m just lucky enough to be here to see it.”
he smiled, his hand moving to your back as he held you closer. “i’m the lucky one,” he said quietly, his voice almost a whisper. “i’ve got you by my side.”
you closed your eyes for a moment, letting the sound of his heartbeat soothe you as you drifted in the comfort of each other’s presence. this was the beginning of something bigger, you knew that for sure. yeonjun’s dreams were starting to take shape, and you were right there with him, cheering him on every step of the way.
“we’re going to celebrate even more when you win that first game,” you said with a smile, lifting your head to look at him.
he grinned, his eyes filled with determination. “you bet we will,” he said, pressing a kiss to your lips, sealing the promise of everything that was to come.
and in that moment, everything felt perfect.
your first holiday together in your shared apartment was a mix of chaos and magic. neither of you had much experience decorating, but that didn’t stop you from going all out.
“this tree is way too big for our living room,” yeonjun said, struggling to fit the massive tree you’d picked out into the corner. the branches brushed against the walls, threatening to knock over the lamp you’d just placed there. his arms were outstretched, pushing and pulling, but the tree stubbornly refused to settle in any position that seemed reasonable.
“it’s perfect,” you insisted, standing on tiptoe to hang a glittery ornament on one of the branches, your voice laced with excitement. the ornament wobbled a little before it hung straight, and you stepped back, admiring the sparkle it added to the already glowing tree. the sheer size of the tree seemed to make the space feel even cozier, despite the crowded corners.
yeonjun sighed dramatically, wiping a bead of sweat from his forehead. “i swear this tree is going to be the death of me.” he gave one last push to the tree, stepping back with a satisfied grunt.
you grinned, crossing your arms. “you’re being dramatic. it’s just a tree.” you tilted your head, amused by his antics. you loved how seriously he took the decorating process.
“just a tree?” he echoed with a raised eyebrow, glancing around at the pile of decorations scattered across the floor. “this tree has taken over our apartment.” but even though he sounded like he was about to explode from the absurdity of it all, his smile never faded, and his eyes never lost the warmth that made everything feel right.
the two of you spent hours decorating, laughing as you tried to get the garland just right and joking over how many ornaments were too many. you baked cookies, the smell of cinnamon filling the air, though some of them came out a little more “crispy” than intended. yeonjun claimed they still tasted good, but you both secretly agreed that the burnt ones were more “charmingly imperfect” than actually edible.
after the decorating madness came the argument over which christmas movie to watch. you wanted the classic, sentimental feel-good film, while yeonjun argued that something more fun and lighthearted would set the mood. you went back and forth for a while, teasing each other as you fought over the remote.
finally, you settled on one of your favorites, the perfect blend of sweet and funny, and collapsed onto the couch together. the tree twinkled softly in the corner, and the lights flickered like a thousand little stars. the living room was cozy, a small sanctuary filled with warmth and laughter.
yeonjun pulled you close, his arm around your shoulders as you leaned into him. you let out a content sigh, your eyes fluttering closed as you melted into the warmth of his embrace. the movie played on, but you didn’t care about the plot anymore. you were too busy soaking in the simple joy of being with him. this was your moment, and nothing else seemed to matter.
“this is nice,” yeonjun said quietly, his voice low and filled with affection. he sounded like he was holding onto the moment as tightly as you were, and you felt your heart swell with the realization that this was more than just a holiday. it was a promise, a shared dream of building something together.
“it is,” you agreed, your voice thick with the warmth of the moment. your head rested against his chest, and the sound of his heartbeat was the perfect lullaby, steady and calming. it felt like the world had paused just for the two of you.
as the credits rolled on the movie, yeonjun turned to you, his expression shifting into something more serious, more vulnerable. you looked up at him, your heart suddenly racing. “thank you,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper, but there was a weight to it that made your stomach flutter.
“for what?” you asked, a smile playing at the corners of your lips, though your heart was already bracing for something deeper.
“for making this place feel like home,” he replied, his gaze softening as he looked at you with such tenderness that it took your breath away. he leaned down and kissed your forehead, the warmth of his lips lingering long after he pulled back.
your chest tightened, a feeling of overwhelming affection blooming inside you. “merry christmas, yeonjun,” you whispered, your voice barely audible, but filled with everything you couldn’t quite express in words.
“merry christmas,” he echoed, his arms tightening around you, pulling you even closer. it was as if he never wanted to let go, as if he was afraid that if he did, the moment would slip away. and in a way, you felt the same. this was a memory, a feeling you wanted to hold onto forever.
those moments, as small and simple as they were, were the foundation of your love story. they were proof that love didn’t have to be extravagant to be meaningful. it was in the way you took care of each other, celebrated each other, and found joy in the everyday. in the way you decorated a too-big tree and laughed over burnt cookies. in the way you bickered over movies and then forgot about it in the warmth of each other’s arms. in the way you created a home together, not with things or grand gestures, but with moments that felt like they could last forever.
and that, you realized, was what made your love so special. it was the quiet, unspoken moments. the feeling of being seen and cared for. the promise of forever in a simple kiss, a shared holiday, a memory that would live in your heart long after the tree came down.
after that first holiday together, things fell back into the usual rhythm. the excitement of the new year faded into the mundane, but there was something undeniably comfortable about it. yeonjun was still adjusting to the pressures of college life—balancing basketball with his studies—and you were still trying to navigate the demanding courses that felt more overwhelming with each passing day. but through it all, yeonjun was always there, offering you support, his quiet understanding a constant presence in your life.
as the weeks went on, yeonjun began introducing you to his friends from college—jay and sunghoon, his teammates from the basketball team. you hadn’t made many friends of your own since starting college. truth be told, you hadn’t felt the need to. you had yeonjun, who was both your boyfriend and your best friend, and that was enough for you. the thought of making new friends seemed like a burdensome task, especially with how difficult school was for you. besides, yeonjun had a way of making everything feel less daunting. if you had him, you didn’t need anyone else.
jay and sunghoon were easy to get along with, full of energy and charm. whenever they came over to your apartment, they’d crack jokes, teasing yeonjun in the way that only close friends could. at first, you found their easy camaraderie a bit intimidating. they had their own group, their own world, and you felt like an outsider, just tagging along. still, yeonjun always made sure to include you in their conversations, trying to draw you out of your shell.
“come on, join us,” jay would say with a grin, nudging you as he and sunghoon sprawled on the couch, already deep in conversation about the latest basketball game. “you’re not just gonna sit there and watch us, right?”
you’d laugh awkwardly, still unsure of how to interact with them. “i’m just... i don’t know. i don’t want to interrupt.”
yeonjun would look over at you, his gaze warm. “you’re not interrupting, babe. we want you here.”
but despite his reassurances, you still felt out of place. their friendship was effortless, while yours with yeonjun felt like the only bond you needed. college was hard enough without having to deal with the complexities of socializing. you had your own quiet space in your shared apartment, and that was where you felt most comfortable. the outside world could be chaotic, but here, in the quiet of your home, you had everything you needed.
still, yeonjun’s social life kept growing. as a rising star on the basketball team, he was constantly invited to parties and events, surrounded by people who admired him. at first, he’d ask you to join him, a hopeful look in his eyes. “come on, babe. you can’t just stay home all the time. you’ll have fun, i promise.”
but you’d always find a way to decline. “i’ve got so much work to do,” you’d say, your voice soft but firm. “i’ll just get in the way.”
yeonjun would frown, but he never pushed. he understood. “i get it,” he’d say. “but you’re always welcome to come with me. it’s no fun without you.”
most nights, yeonjun would go to the parties without you. you’d be left in the apartment, working late into the night or watching tv shows alone. you never minded it too much, but there was a small part of you that felt disconnected from his world, from the life he was building outside of your shared space.
then, one night, you decided to go with him. it wasn’t that you were suddenly interested in the party scene; it was more that you didn’t want to keep missing out on the parts of his life that mattered to him. you didn’t want to be the one left behind.
when you walked into the party, the noise hit you first—the thumping bass of the music, the laughter and chatter filling the room. yeonjun, ever the popular one, was immediately surrounded by people. friends from the basketball team, classmates, strangers—everyone seemed to know him. and everyone seemed to gravitate toward him. they complimented him on his latest game, joked around with him, and made him the center of attention. and there you were, standing on the edge of it all, watching as he effortlessly navigated the social maze. you felt small, invisible even.
people would glance at you, nod politely, but then turn their attention back to yeonjun. it wasn’t that they were rude, it was just that they were so enamored with him, so focused on him, that you felt like a shadow in the background. you smiled awkwardly, trying to join in on conversations, but it was clear that you didn’t belong in their world. the attention always circled back to yeonjun, and you were left in his wake.
you tried to shake off the feeling, but it lingered. when you finally left the party with yeonjun later that night, you didn’t say much. you just followed him home, lost in your own thoughts. you couldn’t deny it—yeonjun had changed. college had changed him. and though you loved him with all your heart, there was a part of you that felt like you were losing him, piece by piece, to the world outside.
the night ended quietly. yeonjun had drunk a bit more than usual, and when he came home, he was tipsy, his words slurring as he apologized for the night. “i’m sorry,” he mumbled, stumbling toward the couch. “i didn’t mean to drag you into that... i should’ve been more considerate.”
you smiled softly, helping him onto the couch. “it’s fine, yeonjun. i’m just glad you’re home safe.”
you made him a quick meal—something light, just enough to help him sober up. as you set the plate down in front of him, he looked up at you, his eyes heavy with sleep. “thank you,” he whispered, his voice barely audible. “you’re always here for me.”
you brushed his hair out of his face, your fingers gentle. “of course i am. i love you.”
he smiled sleepily, closing his eyes as he drifted off to sleep. you sat there beside him for a while, watching him rest, feeling the quiet warmth of his presence beside you. there was a peace in those moments, in the simplicity of taking care of each other.
the next morning, yeonjun was up early, as usual, for basketball practice. he leaned over and kissed you softly on the forehead before pulling himself out of bed. “i made breakfast,” he whispered, his voice hushed with sleep. “i love you. i’ll see you later.”
you smiled, watching him leave with a mixture of affection and a little sadness. you weren’t sure what it was—maybe it was the parties, or maybe it was the growing distance between you two that had been slowly creeping in. but in that moment, you felt the weight of everything that had changed.
you stayed in bed for a little while longer, content in the quiet of the apartment. yeonjun was busy with basketball, and you had your own work to focus on. life had become a series of routines—mornings filled with breakfast and soft kisses, nights spent working or watching tv shows alone. and though there was still love, there was something missing, something that neither of you could put into words. yet, for now, you were content with what you had.
in the end, that was all that mattered. at least for now.
the small changes continues to crept in, so subtle at first that you almost didn’t notice them. at first, it was just a little shift. yeonjun’s calls became shorter, his voice a little more distracted, as if something was always pulling him away. the long, late-night conversations you used to have, talking about everything and nothing at all, started to dwindle. texts, once a constant stream throughout the day, now took longer to respond to. sometimes, you’d send a message and wait hours for a reply, and when he did get back to you, it was often just a quick “sorry, been busy” or “talk later, okay?”
you rationalized it, convincing yourself that it was just a phase. he was adjusting to his new life, balancing basketball, studies, and everything else that came with being a college student. this was normal, right? everyone went through it. he still made time for you, didn’t he? he still called, still checked in. it wasn’t like he was ignoring you, it was just... life.
but with each passing day, the silence between you two seemed to grow a little longer. the warmth you’d once shared felt more distant, and though you tried to ignore it, the feeling of being left behind slowly began to creep in.
you tried not to make a big deal of it. after all, yeonjun was still yeonjun—the guy who’d once held your hand in the middle of the chaos, who had kissed you softly under the glow of the christmas tree. he was still the one who had promised that no matter what, he’d always make time for you. but promises, you were beginning to realize, were sometimes harder to keep when life got in the way.
one evening, you were sitting on the couch, flipping through the pages of a textbook that you were supposed to be studying, but your mind kept drifting. your phone sat beside you, silent, and for a brief moment, you wondered if you should call him. but then, you caught yourself. what would you say? would he even have time to talk?
just as you were about to return your focus to the textbook, your phone buzzed. you glanced at it, and your heart gave a small, hopeful flutter when you saw yeonjun’s name. but as you opened the message, your smile faded a little.
“hey, sorry i’ve been distant. i know you’re probably wondering what’s up. practice is killing me lately, and there’s a lot going on. i miss you though. i’ll call when i get the chance, okay? see u when i get home.”
it wasn’t the first time he’d apologized, but it still stung a little. you typed out a response quickly, wanting to be understanding, but the words felt heavy on your fingertips.
“it’s okay. i know you’re busy. i miss you too. just... don’t forget to eat, okay?”
you stared at the message before sending it, unsure if you had said too much or not enough. but once it was out there, you hit send, watching the little dots appear as he typed back.
“i’ll make time soon, promise. ah, i need to get back to practice. i’ll see u at home.”
you hoped that was true. you really did. but deep down, there was a part of you that feared it wouldn’t be that simple. life didn’t always give you the luxury of time. sometimes, it took more than promises to make things right.
that night, you tried to go to sleep early, but your mind wouldn’t quiet. you lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, replaying the days in your head. yeonjun’s growing distance, the way his attention seemed to be drawn elsewhere. the parties he went to, the late-night practices, the endless commitments that seemed to pull him farther and farther from you.
the next morning, you woke up to an empty bed. yeonjun had already left for practice, and his usual good morning text was waiting for you. “i love you. have a good day, babe. i’ll see you later.”
it was the same text, the same words, but they felt hollow now. like something was missing. you sighed, pushing yourself out of bed and starting your day, but the weight of the silence lingered.
you told yourself it was just a phase. just a small bump in the road. things would get better. you had to believe that.
later that afternoon, yeonjun finally called. his voice sounded tired, a little strained, but it still made your heart race when you heard it. “hey,” he greeted softly, “how’s your day going?”
“it’s going,” you replied, trying to sound upbeat. “just studying, you know. how about you? how’s practice?”
“exhausting,” he muttered, a small chuckle escaping his lips. “i swear, coach is trying to kill us. but it’s all good. i’m just ready for a break.”
you both fell into an easy rhythm, but even then, there was a slight tension in the air, something unspoken hanging between you. yeonjun was trying to be present, but his mind was elsewhere, and you could tell.
“so, i was thinking,” yeonjun began, his voice light, “maybe we could go out this weekend. just the two of us. i know things have been... busy, but i miss spending time with you.”
your heart fluttered at the thought. it was a small gesture, but it meant everything. “that sounds nice,” you said softly. “i’d love that.”
you both talked a little longer, but eventually, the conversation came to a close. yeonjun had to go. “i’ll text you later,” he promised, his voice warm, but hurried. “i love you.”
“i love you too,” you whispered, your fingers lingering on the phone after the call ended.
but as you put the phone down, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something was slipping through your fingers, just out of reach. and no matter how much you tried to hold on, you couldn’t ignore the fact that things were changing. slowly, imperceptibly, but they were changing all the same. but then that weekend came, and you were waiting for yeonjun to come home from basketball practice. he’d texted you earlier, a quick, excited, “start getting ready, babe, i’ll be home in thirty minutes.” you could practically hear the smile in his words, and your heart fluttered in response. the thought of finally having a night for just the two of you—a break from the silence, from the distance that had quietly seeped into your relationship—felt like a balm for the ache you hadn’t admitted was there.
you’d planned this evening in your head all day. maybe you’d go to that small italian place he’d been wanting to try. maybe you’d walk hand-in-hand through the park afterward, laughing at his bad jokes, stealing kisses under the streetlights. or maybe you’d stay home, light a candle, and eat takeout on the couch while watching a movie. it didn’t matter what you did. all that mattered was that it would be just the two of you, uninterrupted.
you got ready quickly, excitement buzzing in your chest. you pulled out the dress he’d once told you was his favorite—the one that made him look at you like you were the only person in the world. as you zipped it up, you smiled at your reflection, imagining the way his eyes would light up when he saw you. carefully, you applied your makeup, each brushstroke deliberate, the anticipation building with every passing second.
you checked the clock. twenty minutes. you sat down on the couch, your phone in hand, scrolling idly through social media as you waited. thirty minutes wasn’t long. you glanced at your phone again, watching the seconds crawl by.
but thirty minutes turned into forty-five. then an hour.
at first, you told yourself it was fine. practice might’ve run late. maybe he got held up talking to the coach or his teammates. you sent him a quick text—“hey, are you okay? let me know when you’re coming.”—and put your phone back down, determined not to let the creeping worry ruin your night.
but the hour became two. the excitement that had filled you earlier began to wane, replaced by a heavy, uneasy feeling. you checked your phone again, but there was no reply. no missed calls, no messages.
you paced the small living room, your mind racing. what if something had happened? what if he’d gotten hurt? what if he needed you?
you sent another text, this one shorter, more direct. “yeonjun, are you okay? please call me.” you hesitated before pressing send, staring at the words on the screen. your fingers hovered over the keyboard, tempted to call him, but you stopped yourself. you didn’t want to seem clingy. you didn’t want to overreact.
three hours.
the makeup you’d carefully applied felt like a mask now, heavy and suffocating. the smudged eyeliner traced faint shadows beneath your eyes, and your lipstick had faded into uneven patches, a cruel reminder of how much effort you’d put into tonight. effort that now felt wasted. standing in front of the bathroom mirror, you stared at your reflection, your chest tightening with every passing second of silence from your phone.
your fingers trembled as you reached for a makeup wipe, the motion robotic, devoid of the hope that had fueled you hours ago. the coldness of the wipe against your skin matched the dull ache in your chest, and as you began wiping away the remnants of your effort, the doorbell rang.
your heart leapt, an involuntary burst of hope surging through you. you dropped the wipe and sprinted to the door, not caring about the uneven streaks left on your face. this was it. he was here. he was finally here.
you swung the door open, breathless, ready to greet him with relief and maybe a little anger for making you wait so long. but instead, you froze.
yeonjun was slumped between jay and sunghoon, his teammates from the basketball team. his head lolled forward, and his eyes were glassy, unfocused. his cheeks were flushed, his shirt wrinkled and slightly damp with sweat. the sharp, unmistakable scent of alcohol hit you before they even spoke.
“the team had a small gathering after practice,” sunghoon said softly, his tone almost apologetic. jay offered a half-smile, awkward and sheepish. “he, uh... overdid it a little.”
a knot formed in your throat, but you swallowed it down. “thanks for bringing him back,” you murmured, stepping aside to let them in. your voice sounded strange to your own ears—calm, steady, like this was normal. like you weren’t breaking inside.
they helped ease him onto the couch, his limbs limp and uncooperative. jay adjusted a pillow under his head, while sunghoon muttered a quiet, “sorry about this,” before they both left, closing the door softly behind them.
and then it was just you and yeonjun.
you stood there for a moment, staring at him sprawled across the couch, his head tilted back, mouth slightly open. this was supposed to be your night. the night you’d been holding on to all week. the night that was meant to remind you that you still mattered to him.
but here he was, drunk and incoherent, too far gone to even remember the promise he’d made to you.
with a sigh, you went to the kitchen, grabbing a towel and soaking it in warm water. you knelt in front of him, the ache in your chest spreading to every corner of your body. as you gently wiped his face, his hand suddenly shot out, weakly grabbing yours. his touch was clumsy, his grip loose, but the desperation in it made your breath catch.
“i’m sorry,” he mumbled, his voice thick and slurred. “i’ll make this work, i promise. don’t leave me. i love you.”
his words hit you like a punch to the gut, and before you could stop yourself, tears began to spill down your cheeks. they came fast and hot, blurring your vision as you stared at him. don’t leave me. the irony of it twisted something deep inside you.
you wanted to scream at him, to shake him awake and ask if he even realized how much of yourself you’d already given up just to hold on to him. instead, you wiped at your tears with the back of your hand, your voice breaking as you whispered, “i love you more than you know.”
you wanted to say more—to tell him how much it hurt to feel like you were slipping further and further down his list of priorities. to tell him how scared you were that you’d already lost him, even though he was right in front of you. but the words wouldn’t come. they were lodged in your throat, a lump of fear and sadness that refused to budge.
yeonjun’s eyes fluttered closed, his breathing evening out as he slipped into unconsciousness. you sat back on your heels, the damp towel still clutched in your hands. the silence in the room felt deafening, pressing down on you like a weight you couldn’t escape.
the dress you’d chosen so carefully now felt suffocating, its fabric clinging to your skin in all the wrong ways. you stood up, peeling it off and pulling on an old sweatshirt, comfort replacing the pretense of a perfect evening.
you sat on the floor beside the couch, knees pulled to your chest, watching the slow rise and fall of his breathing. this was supposed to be your night. but instead, it was just another reminder of how much you were losing him—to basketball, to his teammates, to a life that no longer seemed to have space for you.
is this what love is supposed to feel like? you wondered. like holding on to something that’s slipping through your fingers, no matter how tightly you try to grasp it? when did this start? you thought. was it when you got into the basketball team? or was it when he started seeing a new world—a world without you in it?
you stayed there until the first light of dawn crept through the curtains, too afraid to move, too afraid to let go.
yeonjun had always been your sunshine—a warm, steady presence in your life. but lately, that warmth had dimmed, replaced by something heavier, something unfamiliar. he was still sweet, still kind, still yeonjun, but there was a distance you couldn’t ignore.
he would still hold you, kiss your forehead, and call you by the nickname only he used, but it felt different now. his arms around you weren’t as tight, his kisses weren’t as lingering, and his words carried a shadow, a flicker of something unspoken.
at first, you told yourself it was just stress. college was demanding, basketball even more so. he was balancing so much, and you didn’t want to add to his burden. “it’s just a phase,” you whispered to yourself at night, staring at the ceiling. “we’ll get through it. we always do.”
but the gnawing doubt in your chest refused to quiet.
you tried to brush it off when he came home late, exhaustion written all over his face. you told yourself it was nothing when his replies to your texts became shorter, more rushed. you didn’t say anything when he started canceling plans, apologizing with that boyish grin that always made your heart ache.
“next time, i promise,” he’d say, pressing a quick kiss to your temple before running off. and you’d nod, swallowing the lump in your throat, pretending it didn’t hurt as much as it did.
and then there was his social media—photos of him with his teammates, candid shots of him laughing, carefree and radiant. the way his smile stretched wide, his eyes crinkling at the corners. you double-tapped the pictures, your stomach twisting as you scrolled through them. it wasn’t jealousy that stung. it was the realization that he looked happier there, surrounded by them, than he did with you.
you stared at the pictures for too long some nights, tracing his smile with your thumb. “why don’t you smile like that with me anymore?” you whispered to the screen, your voice breaking.
one evening, as you sat across from him at dinner, you tried to bring it up. the words felt heavy on your tongue, but you pushed them out anyway.
“yeonjun,” you started softly, setting your fork down. “do you ever feel like... like we’re not the same anymore?”
he glanced up, startled. “what do you mean?”
“i mean... i don’t know. you just seem... different,” you said, your voice faltering. “like you’re happier when you’re not with me.”
his brows furrowed, and he reached for your hand across the table. “that’s not true,” he said firmly. “you know how much you mean to me.”
“do i?” you asked, the question slipping out before you could stop it.
his grip on your hand tightened. “of course you do. babe, come on. i’m just... i’ve been busy, you know? with school and basketball. it’s a lot.”
“i know it is,” you said, tears prickling at the corners of your eyes. “but it feels like... like i’m not part of your life anymore. like i’m just... here.”
he sighed, running a hand through his hair. “that’s not fair. you know how much i’m trying.”
you bit your lip, trying to hold back the tears. “are you? because it doesn’t feel like it, yeonjun. it feels like you’re trying for everything else but us.”
his expression hardened, and for a moment, you saw a flicker of frustration in his eyes. “i’m doing my best, okay? what more do you want from me?”
“i want you,” you said, your voice cracking. “i want the yeonjun who used to light up when he saw me, who used to make me feel like i was his whole world. but now... now i just feel like i’m in the way.”
the silence that followed was deafening. he looked at you, his jaw tight, and you could see the conflict in his eyes.
“i don’t know what you want me to say,” he finally said, his voice quiet but strained.
“i don’t either,” you whispered, the tears spilling over now.
that night, you lay in bed, staring at the empty space beside you. yeonjun had fallen asleep on the couch, his face turned away from you. the ache in your chest was unbearable, a hollow, gnawing pain that refused to fade.
you thought about the boy who used to send you good morning texts before his eyes even opened, who used to surprise you with your favorite snacks and kiss you like he couldn’t get enough. where had he gone?
“when did we become like this?” you whispered into the darkness, but the silence offered no answers.
it happened on a whim. you’d planned to visit yeonjun at college, surprising him after weeks of missing each other. the idea had felt romantic in your head, like something out of a movie. you imagined his face lighting up, the way he’d pull you into his arms and kiss you like he couldn’t believe you were real.
but reality had other plans.
you arrived on campus in the late afternoon, nerves buzzing in your chest as you texted him.
“hey, surprise! i’m here. can’t wait to see you. where are you?”
the response didn’t come immediately. five minutes passed, then ten. your excitement began to waver, the anticipation souring into unease. finally, your phone buzzed.
“oh, you’re here? uh, i’m with the guys right now. can we meet up later?”
you stared at the screen, rereading the words until they blurred. the lump in your throat was sudden, sharp, and unyielding.
“sure,” you typed back, your fingers trembling. “later sounds good.”
you found a bench near the quad and sat down, watching groups of students walk past. they laughed, chattered, and moved with purpose. you felt like a ghost, sitting there in the middle of it all, invisible and out of place.
later turned out to be hours.
the sky had darkened by the time he finally texted again. “hey, done now. where are you?”
you forced a smile when you saw him approaching, his stride casual, his face devoid of the excitement you’d hoped for. he pulled you into a hug, but it was brief, his arms loosening too quickly.
“hey,” he said, his voice warm but distracted. “sorry about earlier. the guys wanted to hang out.”
“it’s fine,” you lied, trying to ignore the sting in your chest.
he offered to show you around campus, and you agreed, hoping it would salvage the visit. he walked you through the library, the basketball courts, his favorite spots. his words felt rehearsed, like he was giving a tour to a stranger.
“this is where we hang out after practice,” he said, gesturing toward a cluster of benches. “and over there’s the coffee shop. their caramel macchiato is insane.”
you nodded, laughing at his jokes, smiling at his stories. but it felt hollow. the natural rhythm between you—the effortless connection that used to make everything feel right—was gone.
you wanted to grab his hand, to tell him you missed him, to ask if he missed you too. but something held you back, a quiet voice in your head whispering, “don’t ruin it.”
the breaking point came as you walked through the quad. yeonjun’s phone buzzed, and he pulled it out mid-conversation.
“sorry, it’s just the group chat,” he said, his eyes flicking to the screen. his fingers moved quickly, typing out a reply.
you watched as his face lit up, his smile brighter than it had been all evening.
“everything okay?” you asked, trying to keep your tone light.
“yeah,” he said, glancing up briefly before returning to his phone. “the guys are just making plans for tomorrow.”
“oh,” you said softly, the word barely audible.
he didn’t notice the way your shoulders slumped, the way your gaze dropped to the ground.
that night, as you both sat on the edge of his dorm bedcourt bench, you couldn’t hold it in any longer.
“yeonjun,” you said, your voice trembling.
he looked up from his phone, startled by your tone. “yeah?”
“do you even want me here?” the words spilled out before you could stop them.
his eyes widened. “what? of course i do. why would you ask that?”
“because it doesn’t feel like it,” you said, your voice cracking. “i planned coming here to see you, and it feels like... like i’m just in the way.”
he frowned, setting his phone down. “babe, come on. you know that’s not true.”
“do i?” you shot back, tears welling up in your eyes. “because you’ve barely looked at me all night. you were more excited texting your friends than you were to see me.”
“that’s not fair,” he said, his tone defensive. “i’ve been busy, okay? college is a lot. basketball is a lot. i’m trying my best.”
“trying your best?” you repeated, a bitter laugh escaping your lips. “yeonjun, you didn’t even know i was here until i texted you. and when i did, you made me wait for hours while you hung out with your friends.”
“what was i supposed to do? bail on them?” he asked, his voice rising.
“yes!” you shouted, the frustration and hurt boiling over. “just once, i wanted to feel like a priority. like i mattered more than your stupid group chat or your teammates or—or anything else in your life right now.”
his jaw tightened, and he looked away. “i don’t know what you want me to say.”
“i want you to say that you still love,” you whispered, your voice breaking. “because i don’t feel like you do, i can’t feel you anymore.”
he didn’t respond. the silence was deafening, a chasm opening up between you that felt impossible to cross.
you stood up, grabbing your bag. “i should go,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper.
“wait,” he said, reaching for you. but his hand fell short, his hesitation palpable.
you looked at him one last time, searching his face for something—anything—that would make this hurt less. but all you saw was confusion and guilt.
“i’ll see you at home,” you said, walking out the court grounds before he could say anything else.
the tears didn’t fall until you were outside, the cold night air biting at your skin. you wiped at your cheeks, your heart shattering with every step you took away from him.
that night, he indeed came home. you lay on your side, back facing the door, pretending to be asleep. the sound of keys jingling outside made your heart sink, followed by the soft click of the door unlocking. his footsteps were uneven, heavy, the telltale signs of someone who had too much to drink.
you kept your breathing steady as he shuffled into the room, setting down his things with a clumsy thud. the bed dipped under his weight as he sat down beside you. the familiar scent of him was there—cologne, warmth—but it was drowned out by the sharp reek of alcohol.
you felt him hesitate, then slowly, carefully, he reached for you. his arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer.
“i love you,” he whispered, his lips brushing against your shoulder.
you bit your lip, fighting the tears already forming in your eyes.
“i love you,” he said again, this time pressing a kiss to the back of your head.
you stayed still, your heart aching with every word.
you knew what was coming next—he always wanted to see your face when he said it. you felt his hand gently nudge your shoulder, urging you to turn toward him. you closed your eyes tightly, pretending to be lost in sleep.
“i love you,” he said once more, this time kissing your forehead.
and then you felt it—a warm, wet drop landing on your cheek. it wasn’t yours.
he sniffed, the sound muffled but unmistakable.
“i’m sorry,” he murmured, his voice cracking. “i’m so sorry.”
your chest tightened painfully, the urge to open your eyes and hold him overwhelming. but your mind held you back. you didn’t want to ruin the moment, didn’t want to face the reality that had been slowly unraveling between you.
you stayed like that, motionless, as his tears dampened your skin. his grip around you tightened as if he were holding on to the last shred of what you used to be.
and in that fragile, heart-wrenching silence, you made a wish—a desperate, aching hope—that tomorrow would be better.
but it wasn’t.
the next morning, you woke to the sound of his alarm blaring. he groaned, fumbling to silence it. for a brief moment, as he stirred beside you, you thought things might be different.
“morning,” he mumbled, his voice rough with sleep.
“morning,” you replied softly, forcing a smile.
he kissed your temple—a gesture that used to make your heart flutter. now, it felt routine, mechanical.
“i’ve got practice,” he said, already reaching for his phone.
“do you have time for breakfast?” you asked, hopeful.
he glanced at the screen, his brow furrowing. “sorry, no. i’m running late. i’ll grab something on the way.”
you nodded, swallowing the lump in your throat. “okay.”
he left in a rush, leaving behind the faint scent of his cologne and an ache that refused to leave your chest.
days passed, and nothing changed. if anything, the distance grew wider.
he came home later and later, always with an excuse—practice ran long, group projects, a quick drink with the guys. you tried to be understanding, to hold on to the love you’d built together, but it felt like grasping at smoke.
it was your anniversary. three years together. you’d spent the day hoping—hoping that maybe he remembered, that he’d come home early with flowers like he used to, or text you something sweet and simple like “can’t wait to celebrate tonight.” but the hours dragged on, and with each passing minute, hope turned into a quiet ache.
you thought about the way it used to be. last year, he’d surprised you with a picnic under the stars, even though he hated the cold. he’d spent weeks planning it, down to the little thermos of hot cocoa and the playlist of your favorite songs. he’d held your hand, kissed you like the world was ending, and told you how lucky he felt to have you.
this year, there was nothing. no message, no plan. just the familiar sound of keys in the door around midnight.
when he stumbled in, the smell of alcohol hit you before you even saw him. he was drunk again.
“yeonjun,” you said, your voice steady despite the storm brewing inside you.
he didn’t even look at you at first, too busy fumbling with his phone. when he finally glanced up, his expression was tired, almost annoyed. “yeah?”
“do you know what today is?” you asked, your heart pounding.
he frowned, clearly trying to think. “uh… thursday?”
you let out a bitter laugh, tears pricking at your eyes. “it’s our anniversary, yeonjun.”
his face fell, guilt flickering across his features. “shit, i—i’m sorry. i forgot. practice ran late, and then the guys—”
“don’t,” you cut him off, your voice trembling. “don’t give me excuses. just… don’t.”
he sighed, rubbing his temples. “look, i’ll make it up to you, okay? we can do something this weekend.”
“this weekend?” you repeated, your voice breaking. “do you even hear yourself? it’s like i’m not even a priority to you anymore.”
he set his phone down, finally looking at you fully. “what do you want me to say?”
“i want you to say that you still care,” you said, tears streaming down your face. “because it doesn’t feel like it. it feels like i’m just… here. like you’re living this whole other life without me, and i’m just waiting on the sidelines.”
“that’s not fair,” he said, running a hand through his hair. “you know how busy things have been. i’m doing my best.”
“your best?” you repeated, the words tasting bitter. “your best feels like nothing, yeonjun. i feel like nothing.”
his jaw tightened, and he looked away. “i don’t know what you want me to say.”
the silence that followed was unbearable. you grabbed your coat and headed for the door, your vision blurred with tears.
“where are you going?” he called after you, his voice laced with frustration.
“i need air,” you said without looking back.
outside, the cold air bit at your skin, but it wasn’t enough to numb the pain in your chest. you walked aimlessly, the weight of everything crashing down on you. it felt like the world was moving around you while you were stuck in the same moment, stuck in the same suffocating silence.
and then, as if the universe was mocking you, the rain started pouring.
“shit,” you muttered, pulling your coat tighter around you. you didn’t care that you were getting soaked; the rain was almost a relief, hiding the tears streaming down your face, hiding how broken you felt. you didn’t know where you were going or what you were doing. all you knew was that you couldn’t be inside with him anymore. you couldn’t keep pretending that everything was okay when it was slowly killing you from the inside out.
you didn’t hear the footsteps behind you until someone grabbed your arm, spinning you around.
“what the hell are you doing?” yeonjun’s voice was hoarse, his eyes red and swollen, his body shaking from the cold or maybe something deeper. it didn’t matter. all that mattered was that he was here, standing in front of you, but you couldn’t help feeling like you were still miles apart.
“what am i doing?” you shot back, your voice shaking with the weight of everything you’d been holding in. “what are you doing, yeonjun? because it feels like you’re not even here anymore.”
his grip on your arm loosened, and for a moment, he just stood there, rain dripping from his hair, his eyes too tired to be angry. “i’m trying,” he said finally, his voice cracking, raw with something you couldn’t name. “i’m trying so fucking hard, and it’s still not enough.”
“then tell me!” you cried, your hands trembling. “tell me what’s wrong because i’m so tired of feeling like i’m the only one fighting for this. i can’t keep doing this alone. i can’t keep pretending like i’m not suffocating.”
he swallowed hard, his eyes darting away from yours as if he couldn’t bear to face you. “i’m scared,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “i’m scared of losing you, of not being good enough for you. and i know i’m screwing it all up, but i don’t know how to fix it. i don’t know how to be what you need when i don’t even know what i need anymore.”
your heart shattered at his words, at the vulnerability in his voice that mirrored your own. “yeonjun…”
“i hate the team,” he said suddenly, his words tumbling out in a rush, as if he’d been holding them back for far too long. “i hate basketball, but it’s the only thing keeping me in school. if i quit, i lose my scholarship, and then what? and then there’s you—perfect, brilliant you. you deserve someone who has their shit together, not… not me. not someone who can barely keep their head above water.”
you blinked, the words hitting you like a physical blow. the rain was coming down harder now, but it didn't matter. the storm inside you was far worse. you opened your mouth to speak, but nothing came out. the weight of it all—the expectations, the fear, the silence between you two—felt too much to bear. your chest tightened, your hands still trembling, but you forced yourself to speak anyway.
“don’t you dare say that,” you said, voice low but fierce, despite the cracks that were starting to show. “you think you’re the only one who’s scared? you think you’re the only one who feels like they’re falling apart?”
yeonjun flinched at the intensity in your voice, but you couldn’t stop now. you couldn’t hold it in any longer. “i’m fucking terrified too, yeonjun. i’m so scared that i’m losing you, but it feels like i’m already too late. i’m already lost, and you’re so busy drowning in your own shit that you can’t even see me anymore. i’m not perfect, okay? i’m not perfect, and i don’t need you to be either.”
he looked at you, confusion flickering in his eyes. “but i’m not—i’m not good enough for you. i can’t even make this work. everything’s falling apart, and i don’t know how to fix it.”
“yeonjun, stop!” you snapped, taking a step forward, the distance between you two feeling both so close and impossibly far. “you’re not some fucking project. you’re not some puzzle that i need to fix. i never asked you to be perfect. i never asked you to be someone else. i just wanted you. but right now, i don’t even know who the hell you are anymore.”
the words were out before you could stop them, and you immediately regretted it. the hurt on his face was too much, and for a second, you thought you might break. but then he spoke, his voice barely above a whisper.
“i don’t know who i am either,” he said, his words so raw they almost cut through you. “i don’t know who i am without basketball, without the team, without the scholarship. i don’t know who i am without you, without this... us. but it’s like i’m losing everything. everything’s slipping through my fingers, and i can’t keep pretending like i’ve got it all together when i’m barely holding on.”
the pain in his voice mirrored your own, and it was too much. too much to hear, too much to process. you wanted to scream, to break down, but instead, you took a deep breath and steadied yourself. you didn’t know what you were fighting for anymore. you didn’t know if this love, this relationship, was even enough to save either of you.
“i can’t do this anymore, yeonjun,” you said, your voice quieter now, broken and defeated. “i can’t keep waiting for you to see me. i can’t keep waiting for you to choose me. it’s killing me. it’s killing me, and i’m not sure how much longer i can take it.”
he stepped forward then, his eyes pleading, his hand reaching out as if he wanted to touch you, but he hesitated. “please, don’t say that,” he begged, his voice barely audible over the sound of the rain. “please, don’t leave me. i don’t know what i’m doing, but i swear to god, i’m trying. i’m trying to be what you need, but i don’t know how. i don’t know what the hell i’m doing, but i swear to you, i’m not trying to hurt you. i’m not trying to push you away.”
you took a step back, the pain in your chest tightening like a vice. “you don’t have to try, yeonjun. you don’t have to be perfect. you don’t have to be someone you’re not. i just need you to see me. to fucking see me, for once. but you’re too busy chasing this thing that doesn’t even matter. and i’m standing here, falling apart, and you can’t even hear me.”
the silence that followed felt suffocating, the tension hanging between you like a thick fog that neither of you could cut through. yeonjun’s eyes were wide, and for a moment, you thought he might say something, anything to make it better, but he just stood there, trembling, as the rain continued to pour.
finally, he spoke, his voice barely above a whisper. “i don’t want to lose you. i don’t want to lose us.”
“but we’re already lost, yeonjun,” you said, the words leaving your mouth before you could stop them. “we’re already lost. and i don’t know how to find my way back to you. i don’t even know if i can anymore.”
his eyes widened in shock, his lips parting as if he was about to say something, but no words came. instead, he just stood there, the rain soaking through his clothes, his face pale and lost. and for a moment, you both just stood there, drowning in the silence, unable to find a way back to each other.
the apartment was eerily silent, the kind of silence that made your chest ache. the hum of the refrigerator was the only sound that kept the emptiness from swallowing you whole. you stood in the doorway, dripping wet, your clothes clinging to your skin, the cold biting into you like a punishment. you didn’t know why you came back here—maybe it was muscle memory, or maybe it was that small, pathetic part of you that still believed he’d come back.
you curled up on the couch, your body trembling as exhaustion seeped into your bones. your eyes stung, but no tears came. you’d cried too much already, screamed into the rain until your throat was raw. now, all that was left was the heavy weight in your chest, pressing down, suffocating. you closed your eyes, willing yourself to forget, to sleep, but the ache refused to leave.
yeonjun came home that night. it was late, far later than he should have been out, but that was who he had become—always running, always avoiding the things that mattered. he stepped inside, the click of the door barely audible in the suffocating stillness. his head hung low, his steps hesitant, like he already knew what awaited him.
and then he saw you.
you were still in the same clothes you’d worn in the rain, your body curled into the corner of the couch like you were trying to disappear. your hair was a damp mess, your face pale and tired even in sleep. his breath hitched, and for the first time in what felt like years, he broke.
tears spilled down his face before he could stop them, hot and relentless. his knees buckled, and he sank to the floor beside you, his hands trembling as they hovered over you, unsure if he even had the right to touch you anymore.
you had waited.
he didn’t deserve this. he didn’t deserve you.
“i’m sorry,” he choked out, his voice barely a whisper, broken and raw. “god, i’m so sorry.”
his fingers brushed against your cheek, pushing damp strands of hair away from your face. you stirred but didn’t wake, your breathing soft and steady. he wished he could freeze this moment, hold onto it forever, because he knew it was slipping through his fingers like sand.
he gathered you into his arms, cradling you as if you might shatter. you felt so small, so fragile, and it killed him to think he had been the one to make you this way. he carried you to the bathroom, his steps careful and deliberate, like he was afraid the weight of his guilt might crush you.
he ran the bath, the water warm and soothing, and gently began to clean the remnants of the storm from your skin. his hands moved with a tenderness that made his chest ache, his mind replaying memories he hadn’t dared to touch in so long—the first time he’d held your hand.
he remembered the way you’d laughed at his stupid jokes in high school, the way your eyes sparkled with excitement when you talked about your future. he remembered how you used to hold his hand like it was the most natural thing in the world, how you’d believed in him even when he couldn’t believe in himself. somewhere along the way, he had lost that version of himself, and in doing so, he had lost you too.
and now, here you were, and he didn’t know how to fix what he’d broken.
he dressed you in clean clothes, his hands careful as if you were made of glass. he tucked you into bed, pulling the blanket up to your chin, and sat beside you, his gaze fixed on your face.
the moonlight spilled through the window, casting a pale glow over the room. it illuminated the tear tracks on his face, the hollow look in his eyes. he sat there for hours, his thoughts a storm he couldn’t quiet.
he thought about the person he had become—the way college and the weight of adulthood had twisted him into someone unrecognizable. he thought about how he had pushed you away, how he had let the best thing in his life slip through his fingers.
and he realized, with a clarity that cut deeper than any pain he’d ever felt, that he couldn’t keep doing this.
he couldn’t keep dragging you down with him.
you deserved better.
you deserved someone who could love you the way you deserved to be loved—freely, fully, without the weight of their own broken pieces. and he wasn’t that person, not anymore.
he sat there until the first rays of sunlight crept through the window, painting the room in soft hues of gold. and then, with a heavy heart, he stood, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead.
“i love you,” he whispered, his voice breaking. “and i’m so sorry that wasn’t enough.”
by morning, the bed beside you was empty. the hollow ache in your chest returned as you reached out instinctively, only to feel the cold, unwelcoming sheets beneath your fingertips. the room felt colder than it should have, the silence pressing against you like a second skin.
you lay there for a moment, staring at the ceiling, trying to convince yourself that he was still here, that maybe he’d just stepped out for a moment. but deep down, you already knew. the absence was too loud, too final.
you stumbled out of the room, your legs heavy and unsteady, your heart pounding with a mixture of dread and disbelief. the faint smell of breakfast wafted through the air, a cruel reminder of normalcy. your feet carried you to the kitchen, where soobin stood at the stove, his back to you.
he glanced over his shoulder when he heard you enter, his expression softening with something that felt like pity, and it made your stomach churn. “yeonjun already left,” he said quietly, his voice gentle, as if trying not to shatter you.
your heart sank, the words hitting you like a punch to the gut. “to where?” you asked, your voice small, barely audible.
“he said he’s going home for a while,” soobin replied, turning back to the pan in front of him. his tone was calm, but there was an edge of frustration beneath it, like he didn’t fully understand yeonjun’s decision either.
“what about college?” you pressed, the desperation in your voice growing louder, more tangible.
soobin hesitated for a moment before shrugging, his shoulders rising and falling in a gesture that felt like resignation. “he didn’t say anything about it.”
you stood there, frozen, the weight of yeonjun’s absence pressing down on you like a physical force. your chest felt tight, your breaths shallow, and for a moment, you thought you might collapse under the weight of it all.
without another word, you turned and walked back to the bedroom, your footsteps heavy, your shoulders slumped in defeat. the door clicked softly behind you, and you sank onto the edge of the bed, your hands gripping the blanket as if it could somehow ground you.
your gaze wandered aimlessly, and that’s when you saw it—a folded piece of paper resting on his bedside table, almost as if it had been left there deliberately. your heart skipped a beat, a flicker of hope igniting in your chest despite everything.
with trembling hands, you reached for the note, your fingers brushing against the edges of the paper as you unfolded it slowly, as if you were afraid the words inside might break you.
the handwriting was unmistakably his—messy and rushed, the ink smudged in places, as if he’d been in a hurry or had second-guessed himself while writing. your eyes scanned the first few lines, and your heart clenched painfully.
my love,
i don’t even know where to begin. writing this feels like the hardest thing i’ve ever had to do, but i owe you the truth, even if it’s long overdue.
i’ve been failing—not just myself, but you. i see it in your eyes, in the way your smile doesn’t reach them anymore. and i hate myself for being the reason why.
do you remember when we were in high school? when everything felt so simple, and all i wanted was to make you laugh? back then, i thought i could be someone worthy of you. but somewhere along the way, i lost that part of me. the weight of expectations, the pressure of being enough—it’s crushed me, and i let it pull us both under.
i’ve been selfish, holding onto you when i knew i was hurting you. you deserved someone who could stand by you, someone who could be your anchor, and instead, i became the storm.
i’m sorry. for all the times i wasn’t there when you needed me. for the nights you cried yourself to sleep while i was too lost in my own struggles to notice. for losing sight of the person i wanted to be for you.
i don’t know how to fix this, but i know i need to start with myself. i need to figure out who i am, to rebuild the pieces of me that have fallen apart. and i can’t do that while dragging you down with me.
so i’m leaving—for now. i don’t know how long it’ll take, but i promise i’ll come back when i’m ready. when i can be someone you deserve, someone who can stand beside you without making you carry my burdens.
if you’ll still have me when that time comes, i’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you. but if you’ve moved on, if you’ve found the happiness i couldn’t give you, i’ll understand. all i want is for you to be happy, even if it’s not with me.
i love you, more than words can say. and i’m sorry that my love wasn’t enough to keep us whole.
forever yours,
yeonjun
the letter slipped from your trembling hands, fluttering to the floor like the weight of your heart. you sat there, staring at the words, letting them carve deep into the fragile spaces of your soul. his voice lingered in your mind, echoing in the quiet of the apartment, every word a wound, every line a bittersweet caress.
you should’ve felt angry. you should’ve screamed, cried, broken something. but all you could do was sit there, the emptiness swallowing you whole. you traced the memory of his voice in your head, the way he used to call your name like it was something sacred.
soobin knocked lightly on the doorframe, pulling you out of the spiral. “are you okay?” his voice was soft, cautious, like he was afraid you might shatter.
you nodded weakly, though your chest ached with the weight of a thousand unspoken words. “i just... i need a moment.”
he hesitated but nodded, leaving you alone with the silence.
hours passed, or maybe just minutes—you couldn’t tell anymore. eventually, you stood, pulling on a jacket before grabbing the letter and folding it carefully, tucking it into your pocket like it was the last piece of him you had.
the air outside was cold, biting at your skin as you walked aimlessly. you ended up at the park you used to visit together, the one where he’d pull you onto the swings and push you higher until you screamed at him to stop, laughing through the fear.
you sat on one of the swings, gripping the cold metal chains. the wind whispered through the trees, carrying fragments of memories you couldn’t hold onto anymore.
for the first time, you let yourself cry. not the quiet tears you’d hidden from him late at night, but the kind of sobs that shook your whole body, the kind that left you gasping for air. you cried for the boy who had once been your world, for the man he had become, for the pieces of yourself you had lost in loving him.
when the tears finally stopped, you looked up at the sky, the stars shimmering faintly through the clouds. you took a deep breath, feeling the cold air fill your lungs, and for the first time in a long time, it felt like you could breathe again.
you pulled the letter from your pocket, smoothing the creases with gentle fingers. you read it once more, the words less sharp now, softened by the tears that blurred your vision.
he wasn’t coming back—not yet, and maybe not ever. but you couldn’t let your life remain frozen in this moment, in this grief.
you stood from the swing, the letter still clutched in your hand, and walked away from the park. each step felt lighter than the last, as if you were shedding the weight of what could’ve been.
you didn’t know what the future held, but for now, you had yourself. and that was enough.
gyo's note: hi, loves! it’s been a while since i’ve written something like this, and honestly, it feels so personal, at least for me, because i had experienced a lot like them, where i eventually lost him in the process, and i had to actually stop writing from time to time because it gets the better of my emotion (literally cried writing this piece). this story came to me during one of those late-night overthinking sessions (you know the ones). thank you for reading and for always supporting me—it means the world. i’m also working on finishing alumni homecoming kai, and planning on posting my first series for beomgyu! but will probably stick to posting some of my pending drafts i’m not sure, but stay tuned for those! if you made it to this part, thank you so much! you will be loved. xoxo
✮ 2024 gyozies, all rights reserved.
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a hot makeout session with lots of cuddles and kisses would solve all my problems right now
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Your mouth isn't on my cunt, why?
#🙄🙄🙄🙄#dumb puppy#domme mommy#fem domme#subby boys#bd/sm mommy#mommy k!nk#dom mommy#subby men#soft fem dom#subboy#male sub#mine#txt post
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Straddling your lap, your hands slowly guiding me up and down on your strap as I whine it's not enough. It's too slow, to gentle, I need more after three days of nothing.
So how can you blame me?
For how I bury my face in your shoulder when you tell me to be patient. When you smack my ass if I try to move faster and scold me in that voice?
It's not really my fault, when my teeth dig into your skin. At first it's nothing new right? A light sting as you keep the tortuous pace, up and down, so fucking slowly.
What about when I sink my teeth in? Properly. So deep it makes you wince and your hips buck up just how I really want. So deep you have to tangle a hand in my hair and tug to even get me to loosen my jaw.
#puppy brained bambi#lesbian#wlw ns/fw#fem lesbian#wlw#lesbian nsft#wlw nsft#sapphic nsft#txt#txt post#bambi babbles
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Trigger warning ⚠️⚠️ post about suicide, self harm, depression, anxiety and trauma.
I have spent most of my battles alone.
I've had friends that I was besties with for 12 years drop me because we were young and they didn't understand mental health until they got older. Unfortunately early in my life I was already exposed to a world that kids shouldn't be exposed to. So going through depression, suicidal ideation, self harm, anxiety at the age of 9 and just growing from there. No 9 year old is ready to handle that. As we aged it just got worse for me and I am happy that my friends had more time to be kids/teens. Leaving me isolated since they couldn't relate. Then it because too much to be around so they stopped being friends with me because of that and me coming out of the closet my jr year of highschool.
It wasn't until a few years into college that one of them reached out and wanted to grab coffee while they were in town. I went and to my surprise they apologized to me. They apologized. I accepted early that I would not always get the apology I needed to heal, so I had to learn to forgive and let go. When she apologized she had experienced depression for herself, and not only did she understand the gravity of what I was going through but now imagining it at such a young age she broke down crying. Saying her greatest fear is that her boyfriend (now husband) was going to do to her what she did to me.
This broke my heart. It took time for me to understand that we were kids... If you were in highschool back in the early 2000s, you have one friend who has serious mental illness, and then comes out of the closet/ the other friend in the trio decides to cut ties and tell them they are going to hell, proceeds to cast them out and close the rest of your friends to this person.... Who are you going to stay friends with? When I take that step back, I am not excusing it or saying that it's okay, but looking at a different perspective, I can understand. Kids can be cruel, and we all want to be accepted and like. We stay in contact still. The relationship will never be the same, but I have respect for her and I will always cherish the memories I have with her.
My parents casted me aside and didn't take notice when I was struggling, and even now as adults, when we have talked about it, they bring up my older sister. And they say this
"imagine I'm a life guard, and I see the two of you swimming and one of you starts to drown. While I see you and you may be getting tired or trying your best to stay a float, but there is someone else drowning, who should I throw the life vest to? " To which I responded
"it's not like I chose to go into the water, I was throwing in and told to figure it out. And even tho yes I learned to swim, I learned to float, to tread water, I see you rescue her time and time again. But what happens when I get a leg cramp and need help? But you're only focused on the one that can't swim? Or you don't take notice that I am struggling? Just because I know how to swim doesn't mean I don't want to have a lifeguard watching my back."
I tend to be alone and now that I have a support system it's hard to unlearn these coping skills because of the painful memories. Remembering how much it fucking hurt when I reached out only to be ignored or told "get over it". I am the only one fighting for me. It will always be me. I don't ask for help. Or if I do ask for help I only ask once, if I'm brushed off then I won't ask again in that moment or near future.
It's lonely. But it's all I really know, because in the end, I'm going to be the only person to help me. I will always be there. Whether I like it or not.
“I am a strong person. But every once in a while I would like someone to hold my hand and tell me things are going to be OK.”
— Unknown
#minors seriously dont interact#men dni#mental health support#mental help#mental health#depression#anxiety#suicideawareness#suicide#suicidial#emotional trauma#alone#lonely#tigger warning#tigger#txt#txt post#long reads#long text
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the great wide nowhere
#southern gothic#ethel cain#txt#ambient#photoshoot#art#txt post#australian gothic#music#nature#Australia#small town gothic#rural australia#rural gothic#other gothic#aesthetic
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Stan, completely drunk, completely cynical, completely down. Being his true, authentic self with all of his issues and still seeking out Kyle. Where he feels the most comfortable, where he feels the most safe and understood despite these new, sad, confusing feelings. Hugging him, missing him, expressing how much he loves him. That was his cry for help and he went to the one person he loves and trusts most in the whole world, Kyle. His best friend. Not his mum or dad or sister. And sure he was angry and confused and might not have gotten the response he wanted, but he still reached out his arms and confessed his love to him again. Because he always will, because they’ve been in each other’s lives since forever and they always will be.
#I’m having a moment#txt post#south park#noreen’s think pieces#south park meta#south park analysis#stan marsh#sp stan#south park stan#sp stan marsh#south park stan marsh#kyle broflovski#sp kyle broflovski#south park kyle broflovski#sp kyle#south park kyle#sp style#south park style
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