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elryuse · 21 days ago

Text

Goddess Xinyu

Yandere Xinyu X Male Reader

Tags : Yandere Xinyu, University Alternate Universe, Teasing, Dominant Xinyu, Dirty Talking, Cowgirl, Creampie?

Words : 4,703 Words

This is A Commission Work For My Friend @Pizza_anon on Ko-fi. I Hope you like it brotha.

The air in the lecture hall was thick with the scent of nervous anticipation. You, a shy, quiet soul, felt a knot of anxiety tighten in your stomach as you scanned the room for an empty seat. Busan University, renowned for its rigorous academics, was a daunting place for a newcomer like you.

Then you saw her.

Xinyu.

She sat perched at the front, a vision in pristine white, radiating an aura of effortless grace. Whispers followed her like a trail of fragrant smoke – rumors of her wealth, her beauty, her… eccentricities. People called her the "Ice Princess," but there was a dangerous allure to her coldness, a hint of something wild beneath the icy surface.

You, with your timid demeanor and penchant for blending into the background, were a stark contrast to her vibrant presence. Yet, as the semester progressed, you found yourself drawn to her, a moth to a flame.

Her laughter, a melodious chime, would send shivers down your spine. The way her long, black hair cascaded down her back, the way her eyes, the color of a stormy sea, seemed to hold a thousand secrets… it was intoxicating.

One day, during a particularly heated debate in class, the professor, exasperated, threw a piece of chalk in your direction, startling you.

"Focus, young man!" he boomed.

You stammered an apology, your cheeks burning with embarrassment.

Xinyu, to your surprise, turned to you, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "Pay attention to the lecture," she said, her voice a silken caress, "and not to… distractions."

The simple statement sent your heart racing. You blushed furiously, determined to avoid her gaze.

To your astonishment, Xinyu approached you after class. "We should hang out sometime," she offered, her voice surprisingly gentle.

You, speechless, could only nod dumbly.

Over the next few weeks, you found yourself eagerly anticipating her texts, your heart pounding with a mixture of excitement and dread.

The day of your first date arrived. You agonized over your outfit, wanting to make a good impression. When you finally arrived at the cafe, you were met with a breathtaking sight. Xinyu, clad in a gothic-inspired dress of black velvet and lace, looked like a creature of the night, both alluring and terrifying.

As you sat across from her, the air crackled with an unspoken tension. Her gaze, intense and unwavering, made your skin crawl. You tried to make conversation, but your words seemed to catch in your throat.

"You're… very quiet," she observed, her voice laced with a hint of disappointment.

You mumbled an apology, feeling your cheeks burn.

"It's okay," she said, her voice soft, almost soothing. "I like quiet things. Easy to… control."

The words hung heavy in the air, the casual cruelty of them chilling you to the bone. Control. The word echoed in your mind, a sinister undercurrent to the pleasantries she exchanged.

As the afternoon wore on, your unease grew. Xinyu was charming, witty, captivating, but there was a darkness lurking beneath the surface, a predator's hunger that made your blood run cold. You wanted to leave, to escape the suffocating intensity of her gaze, but an invisible force held you captive.

As you finally excused yourself, Xinyu leaned across the table, her breath warm against your ear. "Don't worry," she whispered, her voice a silken caress. "I'll be gentle… at first."

You fled the cafe, your heart pounding in your chest. You knew, with a certainty that chilled you to the bone, that this was just the beginning. Xinyu had her eyes on you, and you were trapped in her web, a helpless prey awaiting her pleasure.

The next few weeks were a whirlwind. Xinyu, with her captivating presence and unsettling intensity, had woven herself into your life. You found yourself constantly thinking about her – her laughter, the way her hair fell across her face, the unsettling glint in her eyes.

She was always there, a constant presence in your periphery. In the library, you'd find her studying nearby, her gaze occasionally flicking towards you, a predatory smile playing on her lips. In the cafeteria, she'd appear beside you, her presence a jolt of unexpected electricity.

Her teasing became more frequent, more… intimate. She'd playfully place her hand on your head, her long fingers brushing against your hair. "So short," she'd chuckle, her voice a melodic taunt.

Sometimes, she'd lean down, her face close to yours, and playfully wave at your eyes. "Hello there, little mouse," she'd whisper, her breath warm against your ear.

You, bewildered and captivated, found yourself strangely drawn to these intimate gestures, despite the unsettling undercurrent. The power imbalance, the feeling of being dwarfed by her presence, both terrified and excited you.

One evening, she invited you to her penthouse apartment. You hesitated, a knot of apprehension tightening in your stomach. But the allure of spending time with her, of experiencing the world from her perspective, proved too strong to resist.

The penthouse was a stark contrast to your modest student accommodation – opulent, minimalist, and undeniably intimidating.

Xinyu, dressed in a flowing silk robe, moved through the space with a grace that bordered on feline. She offered you a drink, her eyes gleaming with an unsettling amusement.

As you sipped your drink, you felt a strange sense of unease. The air in the apartment, despite the luxurious furnishings, felt heavy, suffocating. Xinyu, perched on a high stool, watched you with an intensity that made your skin crawl.

"Tell me about yourself," she purred, her voice a silken caress.

You stumbled over your words, feeling like a deer caught in the headlights. Xinyu, however, seemed unfazed. She leaned forward, her gaze intense, her smile predatory.

"You're interesting," she murmured, her voice a low growl. "So… fragile."

The word, "fragile," sent a shiver down your spine. It wasn't the first time she'd used it, and each time, it felt like a subtle threat. You knew, with a chilling certainty, that you were caught in her web, a helpless prey awaiting her pleasure.

The teasing escalated. It was no longer playful pats on the head or casual hand placements. Now, her touches lingered, a burning brand on your skin. She'd brush against you in the hallways, her body brushing against yours with a deliberate slowness.

In the library, she'd sit beside you, her leg casually draped over yours, her gaze fixed on your face, a predatory smile playing on her lips. You'd try to shift away, but she'd only tighten her grip, her eyes boring into yours, a silent challenge.

Her words, once playful, now carried a chilling undertone. "Such a delicate frame," she'd murmur, her voice a low growl. "So easily… broken."

You began to sleep less, haunted by nightmares of her, her eyes burning with a possessive fire. You'd wake up in a cold sweat, the memory of her touch still lingering on your skin.

One evening, while studying at the library, you felt a sudden chill. You looked up to see Xinyu standing over you, her face pale, her eyes wide with a strange intensity.

"You look… pale," she observed, her voice a silken caress. "Are you alright?"

You mumbled an apology, your voice trembling.

"Come," she said, her voice urgent. "I want to take care of you."

Before you could protest, she grabbed your hand, her touch surprisingly gentle. You allowed her to lead you out of the library, a strange sense of dread washing over you.

At her penthouse, she ushered you into a luxurious bedroom, the air thick with the scent of expensive perfume. She pushed you gently onto the bed, her eyes never leaving your face.

"Rest," she commanded, her voice a low purr. "You look exhausted."

You lay there, your heart pounding in your chest. You wanted to protest, to tell her you wanted to go home. But her gaze, intense and unwavering, held you captive.

As she moved closer, her hand reaching out to touch your face, a wave of terror washed over you. You knew, with a chilling certainty, that you were trapped. Trapped in her web, a helpless prey awaiting her pleasure.

The library was silent, save for the faint rustle of pages and the occasional creak of a chair. You were hunched over your notes, the glow of the desk lamp casting long shadows across the table. The air felt heavy, suffocating almost, as if the walls themselves were closing in on you. And then, like a sudden gust of icy wind, you felt it—her.

You looked up, your breath catching in your throat. Xinyu stood over you, her tall figure looming, her piercing eyes boring into yours. Her face was pale, almost ghostly under the harsh fluorescent lights, but there was something about her expression that sent a shiver down your spine. It wasn’t just curiosity or concern—it was hunger.

“You look… pale,” she said, her voice a low, silken murmur that seemed to wrap around you like a vice. “Are you alright?”

You swallowed hard, your mouth suddenly dry. “I—I’m fine,” you stammered, though your trembling voice betrayed you.

Xinyu tilted her head, her dark hair cascading over one shoulder. Her lips curled into a smirk, but it didn’t reach her eyes. Those eyes—they were unnerving, unblinking, as if she could see straight through you. “Liar,” she purred, her tone playful yet laced with something darker. “Come. I want to take care of you.”

Before you could protest, her hand shot out, grabbing yours. Her grip was surprisingly gentle, but there was no mistaking the urgency behind it. She pulled you to your feet, and before you knew it, you were being led out of the library, her heels clicking against the tiled floor. Your heart raced, a mix of confusion and dread swirling in your chest. You wanted to resist, to pull away, but something about her presence—something about her—made it impossible.

The cold night air hit you like a slap as you stepped outside, but Xinyu didn’t slow down. She led you to a sleek black car idling at the curb, opening the door and ushering you inside without a word. The driver didn’t glance back, didn’t ask questions. He simply drove, the city lights blurring past the tinted windows.

You sat stiffly in the plush leather seat, your hands clasped tightly in your lap. Xinyu leaned back, her gaze never leaving you. “Relax,” she said softly, her voice almost soothing. “You’re safe with me.”

Somehow, that only made you more nervous.

The car came to a smooth stop in front of a towering skyscraper, its glass facade reflecting the moonlight like a jewel. Xinyu stepped out, holding the door open for you. “This way,” she instructed, her tone leaving no room for argument.

You followed her into the building, the lobby a dizzying display of marble and gold. The elevator ride was silent, save for the soft hum of machinery. When the doors slid open, revealing her penthouse, you couldn’t help but gasp. The space was vast, opulent, every surface gleaming with wealth. But it wasn’t the luxury that caught your attention—it was the air. Thick with the scent of expensive perfume, it clung to you, making your head spin.

Xinyu led you to a bedroom, the carpet muffling your footsteps. The room was bathed in soft, golden light, the bed draped in silk sheets that shimmered like liquid. She pushed you gently onto the edge of the mattress, her touch sending a jolt through your body.

“Rest,” she commanded, her voice a low purr. “You look exhausted.”

You sank into the bed, your mind screaming at you to leave, to run. But your body refused to obey. You were trapped, held captive by her gaze, by the weight of her presence. She moved closer, her hand reaching out to brush your cheek. Her skin was cool, almost unnaturally so, and yet it ignited something deep within you.

“Why are you doing this?” you whispered, your voice barely audible.

She smiled, a slow, predatory grin that sent a thrill of fear—and something else—coursing through you. “Because I can,” she replied simply, her fingers trailing down your jawline. “And because I want to.”

Her other hand reached for the hem of her dress, and with a deliberate slowness, she began to peel it off, inch by tantalizing inch. The fabric slipped down her shoulders, revealing smooth, flawless skin. She stepped out of it gracefully, standing before you in nothing but lace lingerie, her confidence radiating like heat.

“Do you like what you see?” she asked, her voice dripping with mischief.

You opened your mouth to respond, but no words came out. Your throat felt dry, your pulse racing as she climbed onto the bed, straddling you with effortless grace. Her hands found yours, pinning them above your head as she leaned down, her lips brushing against your ear.

“Don’t fight it,” she murmured, her breath hot against your skin. “You know you want this as much as I do.”

Her lips trailed down your neck, each kiss igniting a fire that spread through your veins. You tried to resist, to hold onto some semblance of control, but it was futile. She was everywhere—her scent, her touch, her voice—consuming you completely.

“Say it,” she demanded, her teeth grazing your earlobe. “Tell me you’re mine.”

“I—” you started, but she cut you off with a kiss, fierce and possessive. Her tongue invaded your mouth, claiming you, branding you. When she finally pulled away, her eyes burned with a ferocity that left you breathless.

“Say it,” she repeated, her voice low and dangerous.

You hesitated, but only for a moment. “I’m yours,” you whispered, the words slipping out before you could stop them.

She grinned, triumphant. “Good boy.” Her hands roamed lower, teasing, taunting, until you were writhing beneath her, desperate for more. “Now,” she purred, her voice a sultry promise, “let me show you just how much I’ve been wanting you.”

Good boy. The words echoed in your mind, reverberating through your body like a command you couldn’t disobey. Xinyu’s hands were everywhere, possessive and demanding, as if she were mapping out every inch of you to commit it to memory. Her breath was hot against your neck, her teeth grazing your skin just enough to make you shiver. You wanted to pull away, to escape the intensity of her gaze, but something about her—her dominance, her confidence—held you captive.

“You said you’re mine,” she murmured, her voice low and dripping with honeyed menace. “But do you understand what that means?”

You opened your mouth to respond, but no sound came out. Her fingers trailed down your chest, nails scraping lightly over your skin, leaving goosebumps in their wake. She leaned in closer, her lips brushing against your ear as she whispered, “It means I own you. Your body, your mind, your pleasure—everything belongs to me now.”

Your heart pounded, a mix of fear and exhilaration coursing through your veins. This is wrong, a small voice in the back of your mind protested. But it was drowned out by the heat spreading through you, the ache growing between your legs as her hand slipped lower, teasing the waistband of your pants.

“Do you want me to stop?” she asked, her voice deceptively soft. But there was a challenge in her eyes, a dare for you to defy her. When you didn’t answer immediately, she smirked. “That’s what I thought.”

Her fingers dipped beneath the fabric, tracing the outline of your arousal. You gasped, arching into her touch despite yourself. She chuckled darkly, her breath warm against your ear. “So eager already. I haven’t even started yet.”

She shifted, straddling you with practiced ease, her weight pressing you deeper into the mattress. Her dress rode up her thighs, revealing smooth, pale skin that seemed to glow in the dim light of the room. Her hands moved to the hem, and slowly, deliberately, she began to peel the fabric away, inch by torturous inch.

God, she’s beautiful. The thought struck you unbidden, and you hated yourself for it. But you couldn’t look away. Every movement she made was calculated, hypnotic, designed to keep your eyes on her. She wasn’t just undressing—she was putting on a performance, and you were the captive audience.

When the dress pooled at her hips, she paused, her fingers resting on the edge of her lace panties. Her lips curved into a wicked smile. “You want to see more, don’t you?”

You nodded, unable to speak, your throat tight with anticipation. She laughed softly, a sound that sent shivers down your spine. “Then ask nicely.”

“Please,” you managed, your voice trembling. “Please, Xinyu.”

She tilted her head, considering. “That’s a start. But I think you can do better.” Her fingers toyed with the lace, tugging it down just enough to tease. “What do you really want? Say it.”

Words failed you. How could you articulate this… this need she had awakened in you? It wasn’t just physical—it was something darker, deeper, something that terrified and thrilled you in equal measure. “I… I want…”

“Tell me,” she purred, leaning closer until her lips brushed yours. “Say it.”

“I want you,” you breathed, the admission tumbling out before you could stop it. “I want you to take me. To… to claim me.”

Her smile widened, triumphant and predatory. “That’s what I wanted to hear.” In one fluid motion, she pulled the panties down and tossed them aside, leaving herself completely bare. Your breath caught at the sight of her, flawless and radiant, her body towering over you like some goddess descended from the heavens.

“Now it’s your turn,” she said, her voice thick with promise. She reached for your pants, unbuttoning them with deliberate slowness. You lifted your hips to help her, but she clicked her tongue in disapproval. “Uh-uh. Let me do it. You’re mine, remember?”

You nodded again, swallowing hard as she peeled the fabric away, exposing you to the cool air of the room. Her eyes roamed over you, hungry and appreciative, and then she met your gaze. “Such a good boy,” she murmured, her tone both mocking and affectionate. “So obedient. So desperate for me.”

Her hands found your shoulders, pinning you to the bed as she lowered herself onto you. The first contact was electric, sending a jolt through your entire body. She moved with slow, deliberate strokes, her hips rolling in a way that made your head spin. Each motion was calculated, designed to drive you wild, to push you closer to the edge without letting you fall.

“You feel so good,” she moaned, her voice low and sultry. “So perfect for me. Just like this.” Her nails dug into your skin, leaving faint marks that you knew would linger long after tonight. “Tell me how much you love this,” she demanded, her pace quickening. “Tell me how much you need me.”

“I—” You choked on the words, your mind scrambled by the sensations overwhelming you. “I love it. I need you. Please, Xinyu—”

She cut you off with a kiss, deep and consuming, her tongue tangling with yours as she swallowed your moans. Her rhythm grew faster, more erratic, her hips grinding against you with an urgency that left you gasping for air. “That’s it,” she murmured against your lips. “Let go for me. Give me everything.”

And you did. With a cry that was part relief, part surrender, you spilled into her, your body convulsing as waves of pleasure crashed over you. She moaned, her own release shaking her as she rode you through it, her movements slowing to a sensual grind as she savored every last drop.

When it was over, she collapsed atop you, her breath hot against your neck. For a moment, neither of you spoke, the only sound in the room the rapid pounding of your hearts. Then she lifted her head, her eyes gleaming with satisfaction. “You did so well,” she purred, brushing a strand of hair from your forehead. “Such a good little slave for your goddess.”

Her words sent a fresh wave of heat through you, despite the exhaustion weighing you down. She kissed you again, slow and languid, her lips lingering on yours as if she were savoring the taste of your submission. “But don’t think I’m done with you yet,” she whispered, her tone playful yet filled with dark promise. “We’ve only just begun.”

She shifted, her weight settling beside you as her hand trailed lazily down your chest. “You belong to me now,” she continued, her voice a low, seductive murmur. “Every part of you. And I intend to make sure you never forget it.”

Your body trembled beneath her touch, anticipation and dread twisting together in your gut. What have I gotten myself into? But even as the question crossed your mind, you knew the answer.

You were hers. Completely, irrevocably hers. And there was no escaping it.

Xinyu’s lips curled into a sly smirk, her eyes glinting with a predatory gleam as she loomed over you. Her hand trailed down your chest, her nails scratching lightly against your skin in a way that sent shivers rippling through your body. Her voice was low, almost purring, as she leaned in close, her breath warm against your ear.

“You belong to me,” she whispered, the words dripping with authority and possession. “And now, I want you to show me just how much you mean it.”

Her fingers gripped your chin, tilting your head up so your eyes met hers. There was no room for argument, no possibility of refusal. Her dominance was absolute, and you felt yourself sinking deeper into the web she had woven around you.

“On your knees,” she commanded, her tone sharp and unyielding.

Your heart pounded in your chest as you obeyed, sliding off the bed and onto the floor before her. The plush carpet beneath your knees did little to ease the tension coiling in your stomach. She stood tall, her silhouette towering over you, her presence overwhelming. Her hands rested on her hips, her posture relaxed yet commanding, as though she were daring you to defy her. But you couldn’t. You wouldn’t.

She reached for the belt of her robe, tugging it loose with deliberate slowness. The silk slid from her shoulders, pooling at her feet in a shimmering heap. Beneath, she wore nothing but a lace lingerie set, the delicate fabric clinging to her curves like a second skin. Your breath caught in your throat as you took her in—her pale skin, her long legs, the faint flush of arousal already coloring her cheeks. She was breathtaking, and she knew it.

“Look at me,” she ordered, her voice cutting through the haze of your thoughts.

Your gaze snapped back to her face, and she smiled, the curve of her lips more wicked than sweet. She stepped closer, her heels clicking softly against the floor, until she was standing mere inches from you. Her scent enveloped you—expensive perfume mingling with something darker, more primal. It was intoxicating, and you felt your resolve crumbling under the weight of her influence.

She placed her hand on the back of your head, her fingers tangling in your hair. Her grip tightened, just enough to make you wince, and she pulled you forward until your face was pressed against her abdomen. The warmth of her skin seeped into you, and you could hear the steady thrum of her heartbeat beneath the surface.

“Do you know what I want?” she asked, her voice a low murmur.

You nodded, your mouth dry, your mind racing. You didn’t trust yourself to speak, not when every word felt like a potential misstep in this dangerous game she was playing.

“Say it,” she demanded, her fingers tightening again in warning.

“Y-you want me to… to pleasure you,” you stammered, the words tumbling out in a nervous rush.

She laughed, a soft, melodic sound that sent a chill down your spine. Good boy, she thought, though she kept the praise to herself. For now.

She released her hold on your hair, stepping back just far enough to give you space. Her hands moved to the clasp of her bra, undoing it with practiced ease. The garment fell away, revealing the full swell of her breasts, her nipples already hardening under your gaze. She hooked her thumbs into the waistband of her panties, sliding them down her legs and kicking them aside with a careless flick of her foot.

Now completely bare before you, she looked down at you with an expression that was equal parts hunger and amusement.

“Show me,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “Show me how much you want to please me.”

Your hands trembled as you reached for her, but she caught your wrists, stopping you before you could touch her.

“No,” she chided, her tone sharp. “Not like that. Use your mouth. Only your mouth.”

She pushed you back slightly, ensuring there was enough distance between you and her for her to maintain control. Then, she spread her legs wider, offering herself to you without hesitation. Her confidence was unshakable, her dominance absolute. You were merely a tool for her pleasure, and you knew it.

Leaning forward, you pressed your lips to her inner thigh, your breath shuddering as you inhaled her scent. She hummed in approval, her fingers carding through your hair once more. Encouraged, you kissed higher, trailing your lips along the sensitive skin until you reached the apex of her thighs.

She let out a soft sigh as your tongue finally found its mark, the first tentative lick drawing a tremor through her body. Her grip on your hair tightened, guiding you as you began to explore her with increasing boldness. She tasted sweet, almost unbearably so, and you felt yourself growing more desperate to satisfy her with each passing second.

But she wasn’t about to let you have it so easy. Just as you started to find a rhythm, she pulled your head back, forcing you to stop.

“Not yet,” she said, her voice thick with desire. “I want you to beg for it.”

Your pulse quickened at her words, humiliation and arousal warring within you. “P-please,” you stuttered, your voice trembling. “Please, let me… let me make you feel good.”

She tilted her head, considering your plea for a moment before she smirked. “You can do better than that.”

You swallowed hard, your cheeks burning as you searched for the right words. “I… I need to taste you. Please, Xinyu. Let me make you come.”

Her laughter rang out, rich and indulgent, and she loosened her grip on your hair, allowing you to continue. “Good boy,” she murmured, her voice laced with approval.

You dove back in, your tongue working diligently as she guided your movements with subtle tugs and pulls. Her breathing grew heavier, her hips rolling against your face as she sought more friction. You could feel her thighs tensing around your head, her pleasure mounting with each stroke of your tongue.

“That’s it,” she purred, her voice strained with building ecstasy. “Just like that. Don’t stop.”

You obeyed, pushing her closer and closer to the edge. Her moans filled the room, a symphony of pleasure that spurred you on. Her grip on your hair became almost punishing, her nails digging into your scalp as she approached her climax.

Then, with a sudden cry, she came, her body arching as waves of release crashed over her. You held on, drinking in her essence until she finally pulled you away, her chest heaving as she caught her breath.

Her eyes darkened as she looked down at you, a satisfied smile playing on her lips.

“Such a good boy,” she murmured, her voice still heavy with desire. “But don’t think you’re done yet.”

She grabbed your arm, pulling you to your feet before spinning you around and pushing you back onto the bed. Before you could react, she straddled you, pinning you beneath her with effortless grace.

“Now,” she said, her voice a low purr as she leaned down, her lips brushing against yours. “It’s my turn to take what I want.”

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sparklingblu · 4 months ago

Text

Pulse

Sohyun X Xinyu

P.S: I'm trying a new style of writing here.

- x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x - x -

There's something calm and comforting about the crowded coffeeshop. The hissing of the espresso machine, the bustle of human conversation, the clinking of ceramic cups - they all seem to blend together to create a new yet totally familiar world. That's the reason I've come here. To be swallowed by this background noise and extract myself from reality if just for a moment.

I sit in my usual corner, my elbow against a cup of cappucino which has long since gone cold and a textbook opened but largely ignored. I have read the same line for the last thirty minutes but none of it seems to stick. I'm too distracted by the noise and my own thoughts, adrift in this place.

University is supposed to be a place where you "find yourself" but I seem to have lost my sense of direction as soon as I step my foot here. Everyone around me seems so sure of what they are doing, raised chests and energetic steps. Meanwhile, I'm just trying to keep my head down, pretending like I belong while I don't even know who I am yet.

Outside, the leaves are just starting to turn yellow - the afternoon light casting a lazy red glow on them. It's the start of a new season though I barely feel like anything have changed in this new life I'm settling into. It's just a struggle to fit in from day to day.

I bring my lips to the rim of my cofee cup, grmiacing as the bitter taste washes over me. It doesn't come as a surprise. The only reason people come here is for the atmosphere - to mingle and jingle . The cofee is just a necessity to stay.

I glance at the moving world from my seat near the window. A steady flow of students rush past the platfrom on the otherside, their laughter echoing through the glass. It's as if they know a secret I have yet to understand.

I pull the sleeve of my sweater over my knuckles, retreating into the soft fabric. Nearby, my phone buzzes with a notification from a group chat that I never have been a part of. I don't bother to check and it becomes one of the many sounds that fills the place.

I used to think university would be different - a total contrast to my mundane high school life. That I'd step into the place and everything will click into place. Like the rest of my life have been a prelude to this. But here I am. Already chickening out in the first week.

I chug down the remainder of my cold coffee, shove my books into the bag and was about to leave when a burst of cool air sweeps through the place, followed by the jingle of the bell above the door. And I happen to be one of those people who instictively gawk at the newcomer.

There she is, waltzing into the room like she owns it. The energy of the outside world seems to radiate from her body. There's nothing loud or brash about her but she draws attention anyway - an easy confidence that ripples through the place. She brushes a stray strand of hair our of her face, her eyes crinkling with amusement.

She stands out naturally,moving as if she's utterly home in her skin, in this place. It's the kind of self-insurance that seems totally foregin to me. I can't even imagine what it's like to be in her shoes. Not like I will have a chance. She's everything I'm not.

Her hair is slightly tousel, falling in loose waves that looks almost intentional. She's wearing a plain white shirt, its crispiness a total contrast to her slouch jeans.

She orders a cofee - espresso, no sugar- and while she waits, she cracks a joke at the waiteress, painting her cheeks red. All this time, my eyes linger on her with a strange sort of fascination, watching like she's the only form of enteratinment I have had in a long time. And it's true in a way.

She takes the plastic cup and the change from the waiteress with a smile. She turns and that's when the trouble starts. I have expected her to leave as swiftly as she has come. Someone like her probably have more important businesses than slothing around.

Her eyes dart around the café and it takes me a moment to realize she's looking for a seat. So she's staying. But luck doesn't seem to be on her side today beacaue every single seat has been occupied. Well, except..

"Hey" she says, and it's casual, like we have been friends forever. "Mind if I sit there?"

She's gesturing at the seat across from mine, which I have strategically left empty to create a distance between me and everything else. I hesistate a tad bit too long before I response.

"Sure" I mumble, nodding towards the chair.

She sits, sliding the cup of coffee on the table with a soft thud. I have expected her to pull out a phone or do anything a stranger sharing a table with another stranger would do. But instead, she leans back and scans the room before her eyes come to rest on me.

"I have seen you before" she speaks, offering a slight smile as if she can read my thoughts.

I blink, caught off-guard. No 'hello' s. No 'hi' s. Straight to the point.

"Have you?" I say, sounding awfully stiff.

"Yeah. You have been in the same corner for the last week. You come here a lot?" She sips her coffee, eyes still on me.

I shrug. "Not always. But yeah. It's quiet"

She raised an eyebrow, glancing around the packed café. "Quiet?" she repeats, half laughing. "Compared to the dining hall, perhaps"

Just then, I realize how rudiculous I must sound. "Well, not today" I admit, lowering my gaze back to the books. "But usually"

She laughs again, but not mockingly so. "I get where you are coming from. Sometimes, it's good to be alone even though you are not truly alone" She couldn't have worded it better.

"Exactly" I say, nodding slowly.

A brief silent passes between us. She sips from her cup again. If the cappucino here is strong, I can't imagine what espresso would taste like. But she shows no sign of distaste.

"So, what do you study?" she asks, her fingers tracing the rim of her cup.

"Literature" I answer, shifting in my seat. For some reason, talking about my major always make me feel like I'm giving something away. Like I'm exposing myself.

"Ahhh Literature" She repeats the word, as if she's trying to decipher its meaning. "That must be....intense. Lots of complicated story about lots of different stuffs"

I nod, still unsure where she's headed. "I guess so. It's more about trying to understand them through their words. Deep fry your brain sometimes"

She huffs. "I can imagine. That's why I try to understand them through their heads, it's less exhausting that way. I'm in psych"

That makes sense. She has this way of speaking, as if she knows what the other party will say before they even open their mouths. But at the same time, respecting their boundaries.

I'm still trying to think of a valid response when she lifts her cup and stare at the remaining coffee like she's studying it. Then her gaze lifts back to me, eyes bright.

"You know, espresso reminds me of people"

I blink, surprised at the strange comparison. "Espresso? Why?"

She beams, leaning in. "Espresso's small right? Concentrated. If you take a sip, there's this rush - sharp and intense. It hits you so intensely that if you are not prepared, it can be overwhelming"

She takes a sip, as if giving me time to register her words. "But if you take it in bit by bit, the taste changes. The bitterness mellows out and you can feel each layer of richness underneath"

I stare at her, my tired brain struggling to understand what she's implying. Why espresso, out of all things?

She leans back and continues. "People are like that. Emotions, life, they come at you in the most unexpected times - swift, chaotic. Sometimes it can be too much to handle. But if you give it some times, let it breathe, you start to see the little parts that makes it up. That's when you start to discover yourself"

I can't help but smile. "You have thought a lot about this, haven't you?"

She shrugs. "Maybe. Or maybe I'm just obsessed with espresso"

"Not the one here, I hope"

She smiles, instantly getting what I'm implying. It seems she's a regular customer too. "You gotta work with what you have. But you get the point"

"So....people are like espresso? Is that why you study them?" I question as she finishes up the last few drops of her coffee. This girl really likes espresso.

"Exactly" she snaps. I'm not sure if she's joking here. "It has always been my dream to do a thesis on espresso and emotions"

"Are you....?" I drift off and she bursts into laughter.

I feel the slightest hint of joy, like by asking that stupid question, I have contributed to her amusement in some way.

"Serious? No way. I'm not risking my degree for my unhealthy addiction. The last person I explained this to leave the table as soon as I'm done"

"Well, I'm still here"

Does it sound too cheesy?

"I can see that" She glances at the clock on the wall, frowning slightly. "I should get going. I have a class to prepared for"

I nod, feeling that familiar twist that comes with endings. "Right. Of course"

She stands, adjusting the bag on her shoulder. "It was nice talking to you" she says, her voice warm. "You can call me Sohyun"

"Xinyu" I reply. It sounds so much easier to say my name now.

"Xinyu" She lets the word roll off her tongue. "I like it"

"Thanks" She's already walking to the door when I response.

With one last glance, she re-enters the reality outside of this comforting bubble. I feel a strange sense of anticipation, like the conversation I just had have dropped some hint to solve this puzzle called life.

Sohyun and Espresso and People.

How peculiar.

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The walk back across the campus was pleasant. The scene that welcomes me when I enter my room is not.

As I enter, I'm greeted by the familiar chaos of Yooyeon's world - clothes draped over the chair, a half eaten bag of snacks spilling out on the desk and music playing softly in the background. The mess have become such an essential part of the space that without it, you doubt you will recognize the room.

Yooyeon looks up from her bed, where she's lounging with her phone. She's dressed causual with a twist as usual - an oversized grey t-shrit with the words "You Shall Not Pass" emblazoned across the front and swetpants of the same color. As soon as she notices me, an infectious grin spreads across her face

"Xinyu! You are back!" She exclaims, eyes bright. "Did you finally make a friend or are you still on a first name basis with the library?"

"Ha ha. Very funny" I retort sarcastically as I shove my bag on the bed. "But yeah. I guess so"

She immediately sits up, her attention solely on me. "Wait, what? For real?"

I can't help but smile at her enthusiasm. That's the thing about Yooyeon. It's like she has her own respirator of dopamine. Always on her feet. Not a hint of worry in those blue eyes.

"Her name's Sohyun. We met at the café" I answer, keeping my tone casual. One wrong octave and Yooyeon would immediately detect it.

"Ooooh, a café conversation, huh? Sounds like the opening to a great novel" She laughs, flopping back down to her bed. "What did you two talk about?"

I shrug, though I have anticipated the question. "Just espresso and....people"

Yooyeon grins even wider. "Don't tell me you spill your heart out. Cuz that would be really really-"

"It's nothing like that" I quickly interrupt. "It was just small talk. She's really easy to talk to"

"Easy is good. You need easy" Yooyeon bounces off her bed and start rummaging through her cupboard box of numerous books and posters. It has been a week and she still hasn't bothered to arrange her stuffs.

Not a moment sooner, she pulls out two bright blue mugs. "We should celebrate your burgeoning social life. I have got hot chocolate mix somewhere"

I roll my eyes. "You are impossible"

"Impossibly fun" Yooyeon winks as she pours the hot chocolate mix into the mugs and adds some hot water, the steam curling up. "You are on your way to becoming a social butterfly. Next thing you know, you will be hosting literary salons"

"Sure. After I finish this semester's readings" I reply lightly though the idea terrifies me.

Yooyeon hands me the steaming mug with a triumphant grin. "Here's to new friends and the magic of coffee! If you ever need a social coach to take you on this emotional espresso journey, I'm always available"

I take the mug from her, the warmth of it seeping into my palms. "No thanks"

"Aww come on. I can be the Ron to your Harry. Or the Peeta to your Katniss. Wait, nevermind. That's not a good idea" Yooyeon says, never failing to showcase her obsession with fiction. If Sohyun wants to do a thesis on espresso, Yooyeon would probably make one on Hunger Games. But her dream is closer to being a reality, given how she's in media studies.

"Isn't that the guy....who got like brainwashed or something?" I try to recall the memoies of the movie from time immemorial.

"Yeah. Poor Peeta..." Yooyeon says with a dreamy tone before she brings the mug to her lips.

"Fuck! It's hot" She yelps, immediately recoiling and almost spilling the hot drink.

"Who? Peeta?" I ask.

"No. The hot chocolate. Wait, no. I mean yes. Peeta, not this god awful drink" Yooyeon says while she furiously fans her mouth.

I can't help the chuckle that escape my lips. "I have always liked that Gale guy better"

Yooyeon's eyesbrow knit at my remark. And I already know a debate is headed my way.

"For starters,..."

And so it begins. I participate anyway although I know Yooyeon would win in the end as she always does. I'm not geeky enough for this.

But it doesn't matter. Because she's the only friend I have for now. Debating on fictional man not to be the odd one out doesn't seem so bad of a trade.

Would Sohyun like Gale better than Peeta?

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I'm up early the next morning. The kind of early that makes the world feels like it's still deciding whether or not it should go back to sleep. I look at the bedside clock - 5:55 am. Ha. I beat the alarm today.

Soft gray light shines through a hatch between the curtains, the world outside still enshrouded in the morning mist. All is quiet except for the occasional footsteps and soft snores of Yooyeon , whose face is half buried in the pillow. I smile, knowing she won't be up for at least an hour. The girl's have been up all night finishing an assignment.

I shiver slightly as the cool air grazes my skin when I pull the covers off. The mornings are getting colder, the first hints of autumn sneaking in. And it means I will have a harder time exiting the warm embrace of my sheets.

The chill in the air clings to me as I head towards the common bathroom. The hallways are empty at this time of the day. Not much early risers here. This building, Bradford Hall, is one of the older dorms on the campus. The floors creak with each step I take and the white paint on the wall have faded with age. For no reason, the place indulges a sense of legacy in me. Like I'm a part of something greater. Maybe it's the smell of chamomile that always hangs in the air.

The walk to the bathroom doesn't take long since my room's on the first floor. There's no burden of stairways. It takes five minutes tops for me to clean up - brush my teeth, wash my face and a couple arrangement of my messy hair that will stay the same way after. I still don't understand how some people manage to spend hours in the bathroom. Making yourself presentable shouldn't be that hard.

When I come back to the room, Yooyeon has tossed over, almost draping off the bed and murmuring something that sounds like a spell. She might be visiting middle-earth, Hogwarts and god knows where.

I cross over to my side of the room, the territory determined by an imaginary line Yooyeon have drawn on the first day. The room is barely big enough for two twin beds, a couple desks and a shared closet. My space is plain, simple. Almost empty except for the small lamp and the stack of books. It works fine by me.

Yooyeon's, however, is a total contrast. Her walls are covered with posters of whatever fictional book or movie you cam name. Not to mention the figurines that line her desk. "They give me motivation" Yooyeon has said. In my opinion, I wouldn't want an inch tall Darth Vader monitoring me all night. I bet Yooyeon would consider that 'hot' too.

I rummage through my closet without any initial dress code in mind. There isn't a need to worry. People wouldn't be up yet. There's no one to impress. I decide to go simple pulling on a bright blue sweater over my shirt and pulling on a pair of jeans. I slip on my worn-out sneakers, their familiar creaks greeting me. After a glance in the mirror, I decide to let my loose locks fall freely. I grab my bag and leave, careful not to wake Yooyeon, who's on the brink of falling off the bed.

The campus seems almost unrecognizable at this time of the day - the morning light bathing it in a warm glow that makes everything looks like it belongs to a painting. The air is still, undisturbed by the usual hustle of students. I take a deep breath as I make my way down the brick path.

The clues of autumn are scattered here and there - the air crisp and the leaves tinged with green and yellow like they haven't decided their favorite color yet. To my left, the towering main library roses like a cathedral, fog clinging to its ebony walls. The arched windows reflecting the sun rays.

Further down, the old lecture halls rise up on either sides of the path. They look like relics from the ancient past, a time unbeknownst. The ivy covered walls adding into its timelessness.

They weren't joking about this place being 'old'.

Ahead, the dining hall comes into view, no less younger than its confidants. With the dark wood beams and the high ceiling, it looks almost like a castle. The stone steps leading to the entrance are worn smooth by countless steps and the wooden doors, though thoroughly polished, creaks slightly as I push them open.

Inside, the place is most empty, save for a couple students scattered around. The smell of coffee and pastries fill the air, comforting in a way that makes me want to stay for hours. I grab a tray, throws on a couple of sandwiches and a glass of juice. My morning appetite have never been impressive.

I takes my usual place near one of the stained glass windows, spots of light showering on the table. I love this place. It's quiet and peaceful. Maybe except when Yooyeon's accompanying me.

I'm haflway through a cheese sandwich when the door swing opens.

Sohyun.

She walks in with a group of friends, at least five of them, talking and laughing. Their energy seemingly announcing they belong here.

Sohyun's dressed in almost the same way at our first meeting - a loose white shirt and cargos. And she strides across the hall with the same confidence from that day.

I didn't mean to stare but my eyes follow her, weaving through tables with her friends trailed behind. Like maybe our encounter was an interlude to something more.

I know I should go back to my sandwhich but when the soul craves, the body has to suffice. She turns my way just for a split second and without thinking, I give her a small smile. It's nothing special, really - just a 'Hey. I remember you from yesterday' kind of smile.

But Sohyun's eyes sweep over me as if I'm not even there and soon, she's swept up with her friends again, laughing at something they said.

It stings. Though it has no reason to. It's like a tiny blow that leaves you off-balance but not strong enough to knock you off your feet. Before I even realize it, my lips have pursed into a tight line and I'm already staring down at the unfinished plate of sandwiches. Maybe, yesterday was just a fever dream.

I didn't expect much, really. A nod, a wave, a smile - a sign of acknowledgement. Anything. I tell myself not to care. It's rudiculous to yearn for approval from someone you shared a coffee table with. But I can't help the cold weight settling in my chest.

I glance up at her again. She's still at the counter, taking her sweet time choosing her breakfast. The way she holds herself is so natural, like she belongs anywhere she goes. I envy that about her. I have always been needed to prove to earn a place in society while she just waltz through everything without a care.

Why is it bothering me so much?

Maybe I should be grateful for her brief cameo in my life. Or maybe it would have been better if we never met. Then she will just be another student who comes to eat breakfast. Not Sohyun.

But now, it's infecting me.

I take a sip of my orange juice, focusing on the cold liquid that wash down my throat. It's nothing, I tell myself. It's jst a stupid plea for attention. It doesn't matter. I have always been good at finding meanings in small thing but sometimes, small things are just......small. There's no more meaning to them than what they are.

Maybe that's all this is.

I watch her from the corner of my eyes as she settles down at a table with her friends, her laughter ringing out across the hall again. And for a momet, I almost want to laugh. Not because anything is funny but beacause how easily she moves through the world, through life.

And how easily she has forgotten me.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

Over the next week, autumn have crept in like a quiet exhale. The trees have turned amber and yellow, their leaves falling in slow spiral onto tbe brick paths. The air has become sharp enough to sting my skin when I go out. It's the season of change, like people say. But this year, there's something unsettling about the sudden shift. Like I'm not ready for new beginnings.

Most of my time is spent surrounded by books and notes. Despite the constant pressure, it's nice to finally have a rhythm to life again. The rhythm that my fear of rejection have indulged. I have recovered quick and Sohyun has faded into nothing but another human whose life happen to cross ways with mine.

It's nothing to dwell on.

I sit at my desk, my table lamp casting a faint glow on the pages of 'Jane Eyre'. The word file opened on my laptop is still in the same state as it has been in the last hour - celan and empty. The syllables for the essay due tonight doesn't seem to be manifesting anytime soon.

I tap my fingers idly on the edge of the desk, glancing at the clock. It's nearly midnight now. The campus has gone still save for the ocassional laughter and footsteps of latecomers from the corridor. Peaceful. Quiet. But still not helping me collect my scattered thoughts.

I'm about to give up for the night and go to bed when the door suddenly flies open with a buest of energy and Yooyeon, in all her chaotic glory, stumbles into the room. She's panting, yet she has this wide grin plastered on her face.

I look up from my desk, startled by the sudden enteance. "Hey"

"Hey" she says, plopping down on the bed. "Guess what?"

I raise an eyebrow, bracing myself for whatever dramatic new she has to deliver. "What?"

"Yeonjun wants me to meet him at one of those fancy clubs. And he asked me to bring a friend" She grins even wider. "Guess who that friend's gonna be"

I blink. "Not me"

Yooyeons gives me a look, the kind that says she's not giving up until I give in. "Yes, you. Come on, Xinyu. You have been locked up here for so long. You need to get out"

"I've been studying" It's not enitirely a lie but it's not the truth either.

But Yooyeon's having none of it. "Studying, hiding, same difference. You are coming with me. Plus, it will be fun. Who know? Maybe you will even find a cute boy" She winks, then whispers. "Or a girl"

I'm not quick enough to surpress the blush that creeps up my cheek. "Yooyeon!"

"What? Don't tell me you still can't forget Ms. Espresso"

"This has nothing to do with her" To my surprise, my voice comes out shrill. "I'm just-"

"Blah blah blah. More excuses" Yooyeon cuts me off. "Come on, Xinyu. You will be doing me a huge favour. Yeonjun thinks I have no friends"

"You do have friends"

"Yeah. But no one would be available this late. And I'd rather go with you. You are....less dramatic"

Despite myself, I can't help but chuckle. "You mean 'naive' "

She shrugs, throwing a pillow at me. "You know what I mean. I don't need to worry about you throwing up or passing out or sleeping with the wrong guy"

"You just wants a wingwoman who will behave"

"Exactly" Yooyeon snaps. "So, what do you say? We'll go meet Yeonjun, hangs out for a bit. Then, we can come back to your books if you want"

I glance at my laptop, ths text cursor blinking in and out of existence as if reminding me of the marks soon to be lost. It's tempting to stay here but Yooyeon's right. Perhaps, I can take a breather just this once.

I sigh, pushing my chair back. "Fine. But don't expect me to drag your drunk ass back here"

Yooyeon lets out a triumphant squeal, practically bouncing off the bed. "Yes! You won't regret it"

She's already heading to the door when I throw a sweater over my shoulder. Yooyeon's dressed in her usual fit - jeans and a Lord of the Rings shirt, the one that says "You shalll not pass".

"Seriously? You are wearing that shirt again?" I ask, eyeing her.

Yooyeon shrinks away in mock offense. "Excuse me? Have some respect for the classics. Everybody loves Gandalf"

I roll my eyes. "Whatever. Let's go"

As soon as we step out of the building, we are hit by the cool night air. The campus is fast asleep, the street lamps casting long shadows across the brick paths. It feels peaceful, almost serene.

Yooyeon immediately starts chattering about this new Draco-Harry fiction, her hands waving animatedly as she speaks. I listen, half-distracted, my thoughts finding their way back to a topic unexplored for some times - Sohyun.

Maybe that morning in the dinining hall doesn't mean anything. It's jut a moment, and moments pass.

Despite the countless convincements, a part of me still wonders. What if she had smiled back? What if things have happened differently?

"Earth to Xinyu. Helloooooo" Yooyeon's voice break through my thoughts and I realize she has been talking to me this whole time.

"Sorry" I mumble, recomposing myself. "What were you saying?"

"I said, what do you think of Yeonjun?"

"He seems...nice" I answer, though I barely remember the guy.

Yooyeon grins, clearly pleased. "I know, right? He's the sweetest. And he's really into Harry Potter too, so that's a bonus"

I hum in agreement. Yooyeon's world seems so simple - vibrant, full of energy. Meanwhile, mine feels like the polar opposite. I'm always overthinking, second-guessing.

"Hey" Yooyeon nudges me with her elbow. "You are being all broody again. Stop it. We are going to have fun"

"Yeah, okay" I say, offering her a small smile.

I breath in the autumn air, hoping that mayb, I can stop cllinging onto a loose thread.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

The club is a short walk off campus, tucked into a narrow street line with food trucks and cafés that come alive at night. As me and Yooyeon approach, the distant music grows louder, the rhythmic bass reverberating beneath our feet.

A small line of people snaked out of the entrance, marked by a neon sign displaying its name "The Tavern". The building itself is unassuming, with dark brick walls and small windows dimly lit from the inside.

When we step in, the place opens into a large space with low lighting. The bar run along one side while the rest of the room is a dance floor, dotted with tables around the edge. The air is buzzing with music and energy - people pressed close together, shouting whatever on their mind over the DJ's beat. It's an enitrely different world from the quiet, orderly campus.

"There he is!" Yooyeon yells over the music, wavibg wildly at someone near the bar. I follow her gaze and find a guy leaning against the counter, already grinning like a madman. Yeonjun. I recognize him from the first (and the only) time Yooyeon introduced me. He seems to reflect Yooyeon's restless vigour - a match made in heaven (or Hogwarts, whatever).

"Yeonjun. You remember Xinyu, right?" she says, taking her place next to him. He offers me a smile, not too over the top, but friendly enough. "The one who's always drowning in books?"

I give him an awkward wave. "Hey"

"Nice to meet you again" He says, his voice smooth. "Yooyeon's always talking about you"

"Only good things, I hope"

He laughs. "All good. Don't worry"

Yooyeon reaches for Yeonjun's half-finished shot of whiskey on the counter but get stopped by a firm grip on her wrist.

"Eh eh eh. You are ordering your own drink, miss"

Yooyeon pouts at Yeonjun's remark. "You don't even want to share a drink with your girlfriend?"

"You see. The reason it's called a 'shot' is that it's meant to be savoured by a single individual" Yeonjun's voice has gone unsettlingly serious.

"And they say Xinyu's the smart one" Yooyeon says, punching his arm.

"And they say men are the agressors" Yeonjun retorts. "How do you even deal with this witch, Xinyu?"

Before I can think of anything to say, Yooyeon grabs his arm. "Before I cast a casual Crucio on your sorry ass, we should get to the dance floor"

Yeonjun didn't argue with that. The banter is just their way of communicating. "Xinyu, you should come too" he invites.

"Uh.....no. I'm good. You two go ahead"

"Are you sure?" Yooyeon asks, despite knowing nothing can budge me. "It wil be fun, I promise"

I shake my head, smiling. "I will pass. I think I will just....get a drink"

Yooyeon is silent for a moment, then she's off, dragging Yeonjun into the sea of bodies. I watch them disappear, Yooyeon's laughter echoing back, carefree and loud, like she's exactly where she belongs.

Me, though? Not so much. So, I head to the bar,sliding onto one of the stools and order a Coke. There's no need for anything stronger. I can barely tolerate anything that have the slightest bit of alcohol and that's speaking from experience. The bartender barely looks at me as he hands it over, already moving on to his next order.

I take a sip and glance around. The place is packed, bodies moving in rhythm, couples tangled up in each other and some loners who are just swaying, lost in the music. It's loud, chaotic and I feel totally out of place. It's not that I don't want to have fun - I just don't know how to in place like this. Maybe my definition of 'fun' is different from everyone here.

I lean back against the bar and take another sip. The girls here are all glitter and glamour - tight dresses, high heels and bold colors, shimmering under the disco light. Like the night is made for them.

And then there's me in my oversized sweater and faded jeans. My white sneakers seems an imposter to their sleek heels. I have been so eager to get out of my comfort zone for once that I forget to do the necessary preparations.

I search for Yooyeon's familiar face in the crowd, but she's lost in the restless horde, probably twirling around with Yeonjun. I'm happy for her but all I feel is...detached. It's pathetic. I know. I'm too old not to know my constant fear of being the outsider, of being denied.

I'm halfway through my coke when I feel someone slide into the seat next to me, the barstool creaking under the weight. I didn't look up, hoping that it's just another stranger who comes to mind their own business. But then, he clears his throat, loud enugh for me not to ignore.

"Hey" a voice rings out, smooth but with a cocky edge.

I glanced over and there he is - perfect hair, gleaming jacket and a gold chain around hid neck. I might not be the best at socializing but I recognize the type immediately - the kind that's used to getting everything he wants. I can see it from his look, like he spends too much time in front of the mirror. He gives me a lazy smile, the one that doesn't quite reach his eyes.

"Come here often?" He ask, leaning a bit too close. His cologne is strong and mixed with the sour stench of his breath, it's impossible not to flinch

"No" I say flatly, taking a sip of my coke.

"That's a shame. You should. A pretty girl like you shouldn't be sitting alone"

I bristle at that, the compliment feeling more like an insult. "I'm not really into clubs" I reply, my lazy tone desperately showing my lack of interest.

He either doesn't know or care. Instead, he leans closer, his elbow casually resting on the bar next to me. "You just haven't found the right sort of people. I could show you a good time, you know"

I swallow a sigh, resisting the urge to roll my eyes. "I'm fine, thanks"

But he only smiles wider, as if my rejection is part of a game he's used to playing. "You sure? Cuz I don't see anyone with you here. How about I buy you another drink? Something better than coke"

"No, really. I'm good" I say, more firmly this time, hoping he will get the message. But the bastard won't take his eyes off me.

"You are playing hard to get, huh?" He tilts his head. "You wouldn't believe how many girls like you I have seen. Acting all tough, only to end up in my bed at the end"

That did the job for me. I straighten up in my seat. "Can you just leave me alone?"

"Oh, come one. I'm just-"

"Fuck off, Taeil"

A voice cuts through the tension and I instinctively turn my head toward the source. Sohyun stands a few feet away, arms folded. Her shirt has been tucked into her dark jeans, casual but sharp. Her eyes narrow onto the guy who is now known as Taeil, as if she's used to seeing the scene plays out.

Taeil straighten up, his smile wavering. "Relax. We are just talking"

"No, you are not" Sohyun steps closer, gaze hard and unblinking. "Here's what's gonna happen. You are going to walk away and leave her alone.

Taeil's smirk returns but it's not so sure as before. "And what exactly are you going to do if I don't?"

Sohyun's lips curve into a smile, one colder than any I have seen from her. She pulls out her phone, holding it up for him to see. "Let's see. I don't think your parents will be so happy to see their son acting like a druggie. Plus, it wouldn't be good for either you or your parents if the video end up in the wrong hands"

All the color drain out if Taeil's face, leaving him gaping. "You are blaffing" He protests, though the panic is clear as day in his voice.

"You know I'm not" Sohyun smiles like a predator who has cornered its prey. "So, fuck off"

For a moment, there's silence, the music filling in the temporary gap. Taeil shifts on his feet, his confidence all gone and finally, he lets out a sharp breath. "Fine. Whatever" His eyes flash with fury. "But this isn't over yet"

Sohyun gives him a mock wave, wriggling her fingers as he strides out of the club.

I exhale, realizing I have been holding my breath. I look over at Sohyun, who's still standing there with her phne. A neutral look has returned to her face. Like the Sohyun just a moment ago was a totally different person.

"You ok?" She asks, sliding her phone back into her pocket.

"I - yeah. Thanks" I reply, still a little stunned.

She shrugs, giving me a small smile, genuine this time. "That guy's a creep"

I nod, processing everything that has happend in the last few minutes. Sohyun, the psychologist. Sohyun, the saviour. What isn't she?

She pulls up the stool next to mine, the one Taeil has occupied just a moment ago and settles in. I shift slightly, suddenly hyperaware of her presence, of how close she is. The bar light cast little shadows on her face, illluminating the little details on her face I haven't noticed before. The tiny mole on her nose catches the light first, then the one under her left eye. They are so small, barely there but they stand out now that I'm seeing her up close.

"First time here?" She asks. How she knows, I have no idea. Maybe it's my my clothes that give it away.

"Yeah" I admits, a little sheepishly. "It's not really my kind of place"

Sohyun raises an eyebrow, amused but not surprised. "Yeah, I figured. You don't exactly look like you are having the time of your life"

I let out a small laugh. "Is it that obvious?"

She smirks, her eyes flickering over to my outfit. "Just a little"

I glance down, fidgeting with the edge of my sweater, suddenly even more aware of my appearance. "It's not really.....I don't usually go to places like this"

"So, not a party person?" Sohyun's voice is more curious than judegemental.

"Not really" I admit. "I'm more of a...stay-in and read type"

Her smile grows and for a moment, the chaotic sounds of the club faded as if we are alone. "Well, you are here now. So might as well try to enjoy it"

She's so easygoing, so at ease with herself it makes me want to throw caution to the wind too. But then, I remembered that morning in the dining hall and my stomach twists. The memory is still nagging at the back of my mind. I bite my lower lip, debating whether or not I should bring up the subject.

Sohyun takes a sip from my nearly empty can of coke and before I can stop myself, the words spill out. "I saw you the other morning. At the dining hall"

Her eyebrows knit together in curiousity. "Oh?"

"I smiled at you" I say. "But you didn't see me"

Or act like you don't, I thought.

Her eyes widen for a moment before she speaks."Wait, really? Xinyu, I'm sorry. I didn't see you"

I blink. "You didn't?"

She shakes her head. "I swear. If I'd seen you, I would have smiled back. I promise. I guess I was just in my own head then. I'm sorry"

Her words are soft, delicate and sincere. It unravels the knot in my stomach I have pretended to be non-existent. Still, she could be lying but I decide to trust her,realizing how much I care about what she thinks of me.

I galnce away, feeling my cheeks heat up slightly. "It's okay" I mumble, sipping from the empty can of coke. "I just thought....maybe I'd misread things"

Sohyun gives me a small, warm smile. "You didn't misread anything. I'm sorry if you feel like that"

She's apologizing too much now it's starting to get uncomfortable. So I dismiss it with a nod.

Sohyun shifts in her seat, her eyes flickering down to my sweater, which have bunched up awkwardly from the way I have been sitting. Before I can fix it myself, she reaches over. Her finges gently tug at the hem of my sweater, smoothing it down without a second thought.

"There" she says, her hand lingering a moment longer more before she pulls it back.

I'm still processing the gesture when almost absentmindedly, she reaches out and brush a stray strand of my hair out of my eyes. Her fingertips skim the side of my face and for a moment, time slows down - just enough for me to notice the way her eyes soften.

"There you go" she says, leaning back. "Now you are perfectly suited for the night life"

We both smile at that and for a heartbeat, I swear I can feel something shift between us. Something I can't quite name. Something that might as well be a misinterpreted signal.

The air settles into a quiet lull, the ghost of her fingers still tingling on my skin. The warmth of the moment hangs awkwardly between us and for a moment, all I can do is sit there, actuely aware of the silent between us.

"So..." I clear my throat. "Do you come here alone too?"

The corner of her mouth quriks up like she finds my question amusing. "Alone?" she repeats. "No. Not really. I'm here with my friends most of the time"

I nod. "So, are they here tonight?"

She glances towards the dance floor. "Yeah. They are somewhere out there" she says with a small laugh. "I kinda slipped away for a bit. Needed a break"

A break. From what, though? The noise? The people? The club?

I hesistate for a second. "Not really your scene either?"

She gives me a sideway glance. "It's fun but...sometimes, I don't know. It can geta little old. Same people, same music"

"Yeah" I agree. "I get that"

She taps her fingers against the bar, thoughtful for a moment. "What about you? Do you come here yourself or did Yooyeon drag you here?"

My eyes widen. "You know Yooyeon?"

Sohyun chuckles softly. "We are friends on instagram. She followed me first, I think? She seems fun"

I can't help but laugh at that. "Yeah. She's definitely fun"

Sohyun tilts her head, as if searching for Yooyeon in the crowd. "She told me she's your roommate when I mentioned I see you in one of her stories. She's been hyping you up"

"She -what?" I stare at her, feeling the panic rising in my chest. "Hyping me up?"

Sohyun greans, leaning in just close enough for me to catch a faint scent of her perfume. "Yeah. She says you are a lot cooler than you let on"

I shake my head, laughing under my breath. "That's Yooyeon....being Yooyeon"

"Well, she's not wrong" Sohyun adds, her eyes catching mine for a split second before she goes back to staring at the dance floor.

The silence settles in again, like an early intermission. Sohyun's eyes flicker back to me and I try to ignore the way she's watching me like she's considering something. I sip at the can of Coke that has been emptied long since.

"Do you wanna get out of here?" She asks so casually, like it's something she asks anyone alone in a night like this.

"What?" I ask, unsure if I've heard it right over the loud music.

She lets out an exasperated sigh. "It's too loud. And hot. Let's do something fun"

I hesistate, unknowingly squeezing the coke can flat. "Like what?"

Sohyun gives me a small smile, laced with certainity and mischeif. "Trust me. You will like it"

There's something in her voice that disarms me. Perhaps it's because this night has already been so surreal, with Yooyeon dragging me here, the drinks, the noise and then Taeil's annoying persistence. And now, Sohyun, who had seemingly ignored me is suddenly offering to whisk me away. It feels like too much, and yet, somehow, not enough.

I find myself nodding faster than my brain can catch up. "Okay"

Sohyun stands, sliding a couple bills on the counter before I can protest. She doesn't say anything, just gestures towards the door, and I follow her out of the club.

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The air outside is sharp and cold and for once I'm grateful for my out of place sweater. Sohyun, however, doesn't seem to be fazed. If not, she seems to be enjoying it.

The music fades into the distant as we walk in silence, winding through the quieter streets near the campus. I don't ask where we are going and she doesn't offer an explanation. Instead, we fall into step beside each other, our shoulders brushing ocassionally. My pulse is still racing, though I don't know if it's from the club or from the cold.

Sohyun's pace is unhurried, her hands stuffed into the pockets of her jeans and I keep my arms wrapped around myself, pulling my sweater tight. After a while, we reach one of the taller campus buildings, its ivy covered walls bathed in the moonlight. During the day, these buildings always looks heavy, weighted down by unknown legacies. But under the silvery gloom of night, it has all been replaced by a strange sort of calm.

"Come" Sohyun gestures towards the side door as she leads me in. The hallway is dim, lit only by the low, humming lights overhead. She doesn't say a word as she climbs up the stairs, up and up until we reach the top floor. I'm breathless by the time we come to a stop in front of an old, rusted door, with a faded sign that reads Roof Access: Authorized Personnel Only.

Sohyun gives me a quick wink as she pushed open the door with a soft creak. "Not like anyone ever come here" She mutters to herself as she steps out into the night.

I follow her onto the roof, and for a moment, I'm stunned. The sky stretches out above us, a blanket of stars scattered across the black canvas of night. The city lights flicker below and I can still hear the distant sound of traffic but for the most part, it's quiet. Like the rooftop itself is another world within this world. The wind tugs at my sweater and I pull it even tighter around me, bracing against the sudden rush of cold.

Sohyun is already sitting at the edge of the roof, her legs dangling over the side, her gaze fixed on the stars. She pats the spot next to her and I sit, careful to keep a distance between us.

I tilt my head up, admiring the stars, feeling the enormity of the night settling down on me. "You come here often?"

"Yeah" Sohyun says, her voice soft. "Whenever I need to think. Or when I just need a breather"

I nod, unsure what to say. This isn't what I expected when she said something fun. But in a way, it's better.

We sit in silent for a moment, the only sounds the wind and the distant hum of the city below. This calm, it's peaceful and stirring at the same time. As if there's a deeper meaning to it that I can't quite grasp.

"It's funny" she says. "Back in the country, I used to lie out in the fields and just....watch the stars. Sometimes, I would stare at them for hours. It never fails to soothe me"

I watch the way her eyes trace the sky as if she's searching for something. To be honest, I have expected someone like her to be from a big city. An image of her anywhere else is unimaginable.

"Must've been nice" I murmur. "Being able to see them so clearly"

She nods. "Yeah. It's not the same here. The city kinda takes over. Light pollution and all"

I can hear the nostalgia in her voice and for a moment, I imagine her as a little girl lying under that wide country sky, her face lit by starlight. There's something tender about it, something that makes me want to reach for a fragment of her from a different time.

After a pause, I point up at the sky. "Well, we've got stars here too. Not as bright, but they are still there"

Sohyun tilts her head, following where I'm pointing and I can't help but smile a little. "Okay, bear with my nerdiness for a second"

She chuckles. "Go for it"

I lift my hand, tracing an invisible line through the air. "That's Orion. See the three stars right there, in a row? That's his belt"

Sohyun squints, trying to follow. "Oh, I think I see it"

"Orion was a hunter" my voice dropping slightly as I tell the story. "A really good one too. Some says he fell in love with the goddess Artemis but her brother, Apollo, wasn't too happy about it so he tricked Artemis into killing Orion" I pause. "She realized her mistake too late and heartbroken, she placed him among the stars so she can always see him"

The story hangs in the air when I finish. I glance at Sohyun, her face bathed in a soft glow. She's quiet for a moment, her expression thoughtful.

"That's kind of sad" she says quietly.

"Yeah" I whisper. "It is"

I shift slightly, turning to face her and she does the same. Our eyes meet and for a moment, the world stills. I notice the way her hair flatters with the breeze, the city lights reflected in her eyes and the faint smile tug at her lips.

"You are really something, you know that?" she says, her voice low. "Is this your revenge for my espresso lecture?"

I blink, then smiles, feeling the tension melt away. "Maybe" I say, my voice almost teasing. "But instead of coffee, I use tragic mythological hunters"

Sohyun tilts her head, her smile widening. "Touché. You really know how to open-up someone"

"It's a natural talent" I shrug, although my sarcastic tone gives away the bluff.

"So, this is how you get back at people?" She continues, her voice still teasing. "By making them feel guilty for their ignorance about constellations"

I laugh, rolling my eyes. "Please, you are not the first person to endure my mythology rants. Consider yourself lucky it wasn't longer"

"And I thought my espresso thesis was bad enough"

It's like we are back in the café except that now, I'm the one doing most of the talking. But we are still the same two people with their own crazy obsessions.

Then in the lightest of gestures, Sohyun reaches out. Her fingers find the sleeve of my sweater, gently tugging at the cuff, as though fixing it, like she did earlier. She looks at me, eyes warm and amused.

"Revenge or not" she says, letting her hand fall back to her side. "I think I like your stories"

I swallow, trying not to lose my footing in the closeness of the moment. "Well" I managed to say, my voice uneven. "Next time, I will make sure to pick a happier story"

Sohyun chuckles, leaning back, although her eyes never leave me. "I will hold you to that"

The air around us suddenly become charged with something unspoken. There's a quiet, almost reverent pause in the conversation as if neither of us wants to break whatever delicate thread is holding this moment together.

Sohyun shifts slightly, inching just the slightest to my side. The stars seem to burn brighter, and I find myself leaning into the silence, into the space between us that feels both heavy and light at the same time.

"Do you ever feel like....." Sohyun starts, her voice quiet, like she's speaking into the night as much as to me. "Like everything around you is waiting for something to happen?"

I blink, her words sinking into the stillness. "What do you mean?" I ask, my voice barely above a whisper.

Her gaze flickers back to the stars. "Like....right now, for instance" Her eyes meet mine again, and there's something in her expression, like she's trying to find the right words. "It's like we are on the edge of something"

Her words send a shiver through me, not from the cold but the hidden meaning underneath. It's not an unfamiliar feeling, but it's one I've been pushing aside ever since we met. The strange pull towards her, a quiet fascination that has grown into something else entirely, something that's so wrong and so right at once.

I glance at her and find myself staring at the mole under her left eye, like I'm seeing her for the first time.

"I know what you mean" I finally say, my voice almost too quiet like I'm afraid to break this fragile peace between us. My hands tighten around the railing and I glance down for a moment, trying to gather my thoughts. "It's like.....something have changed"

She moves an inch more closer, the space between us nearly non-existent now. I wonder if she can hear my heartbeat now. My breath catch in my throat as she leans in, enough to cover the remaining space distancing us.

"You are right" she says softly. "Something has changed"

It's so quiet, her voice almost swallowed by the night. MY gaze flickers to her lips for a second - a brief unintentional moment that I quickly pull back from. But I wasn't quick enough.

Sohyun notices. I can see it in her way her expression shifts. And she knows that I know that she knows. Her hand, resting casually on the railing, moves slightly, her fingers brushing against mine in the lightest of touches. It's barely a graze but it's enough to send electricity tingling through my nerves.

The moment stretches, suspended between us, as if we're waiting for something to happen or maybe just waiting for one of us to make a move. The tension is palpable now, not uncomfortable, but thick, charged with possibility.

I can't tell who moves first, or if we even move at all. It's like an invisible force has suddenly drawn us together. Her face is so close now, I can see the way my breath mingles with hers in the cool night air.

Then slowly - so slowly it feels like the world is holding its breath - Sohyun lifts her hand. She reaches out, her fingers brushing against my sweater, smoothing a wrinkle near my shoulder like she did the last two times. But this time, it's different. There's an unspoken intentionality to it that makes my breath quickens.

Her hand lingers, tracing the fabric for a moment longer than necessary. And then, without breaking eye contact, she lifts her other hand, gently tucking a strand of stray hair way from my face and tucking it behind my ear. The tender touch send a warmth through me.

Suddenly, everything feels sharper, more vivid - the sound of the wind, the soft glow of the city lights, the way her fingers linger near my cheek, as if she's waiting for my permission to go further.

"Sohyun..." I whisper, not even sure what I'm trying to say, but needing to say something, anything, to break the tension between us.

But she doesn't move. She just watches me, her eyes searching mine, her hand still resting gently on my cheek. "Is this okay?" she asks as if it's a secret we only know.

I nod, not trusting myself to speak without stuttering, unable to think of anything but the way her breath feels against my skin.

And then so so slowly, it feels like time has stopped, she leans in.

Her lips brush against mine in the lightest of touches, barely a kiss at all, more like a promise, like she's testing the waters, waiting for me to pull away, to tell her to stop.

But I don't. I won't.

Because in that moment, everything have ceased to exist - the city, the stars, the quiet night around us. All that's left is the warmth of her lips, the way they press against mine, gentle but certain.

I kiss her back, just as softly, just as tentatively. And for a moment, it feels like my life has reached its epitome.

Sohyun's hand, resting near my cheek, slides down to cup my jaw, her fingers warm against my skin. She tilts her head slightly, pressing her lips more firmly against mine, and I feel a soft sigh escape me before I could stop it.

My hands, awkward at first, find their way to her waist. I hold her there, not too tight, but enough to feel the warmth of her body through the thin fabric. She responds by pulling me closer, her fingers slipping into my hair, tugging me gently, deepening the kiss.

Her hands move from my jaw, sliding down my neck, her fingers grazing the sensitive skin there. My heart is pounding louder than the wind around us, around the city below. The kiss becomes more insistent, more desperate, as if we are trying to say something through it, something words can't describe.

Sohyun's lips parts with mine and for a moment, I think she's finally pulling away. But instead, she moves closer, her breath ghosting against my jawline. A soft shiver runs through me when I feel the first press of her lips against my neck, light and teasing.

Her mouth moves slowly, gently exploring, like she's savoring the taste of my skin. Her lips trail down the side of my neck, and when she presses a firmer kiss jut below my ear, I can't stop the quiet gasp that betrays my lips.

Sohyun hears it. Of course, she does. And I feel her smile against my skin.

"You are so sensitive here, Xinyu" she whipsers before her lips continue their path lower, her hands finding the back of my neck.

When she presses an open-mouthed kiss to the curve of my neck, her tongue barley flicking against my skin, I feel my whole body tense with the intensity of it. My hands tighten around her waist, pulling her even closer, yearning for more.

"Sohyun..." I whisper, barely recognizing my own voice and her response is to kiss me harder, her lips hot against the sensitive skin of my neck.

The world won't stop spinning, I reduced to nothing but the sensation of her mouth, the warmth of her body against mine and the quiet, breathless sounds that fill the space between us. It's overwhelming and yet, I can't imagine it stopping anytime soon.

When it finally does, I can still feel the ghost of her lips lingering on my skin. I feel her breath, close to my neck for a second longer before she pulls back. The cool night air rushes in where her lips had been, but the heat she left behind stays, radiating beneath my skin.

I open my eyes, barely realizing I have closed them and glance at her. Sohyun doesn't say a word. She just leans in, her dark locks scattering as she rests her head on my shoulder. Her gaze is fixed on the stars, unblinking as if she's trying to imprint them to memory.

But then, without looking away, she lets out a quiet breath and says, so softly I almost miss it.

"Fucking Apollo"

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#triples #park sohyun #zhou xinyu #kpop fluff #girl group fluff #kpop fanfic

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