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YOU ON MY MIND, YOU ALL THE TIME
only two years post-debut, NAPE are the band to beat, and you might be the only woman in london whose heart races in a bad way at the sight of their guitaristâyour ex-boyfriend, jay.Â
pairing â© jay park x fem!reader
genres: band au, exes to lovers, smut, fluff, angst | warnings: minors dni, reformed evil guy jay, set in london (#SCOTLANDFOREVER), so many english people (#SCOTLANDFOREVER), yn is #GoingThroughIt #Confused, hoseok is the bus driver, BLATANT PLAGIARISM OF SONGS BY EXISTING ARTISTS SORRYYYYYYYY | word count: 37,699
playlist: lover, you should've come over by jeff buckley â© puddles by not for radio â© eventually by tame impala â© where do broken hearts go by one direction â© 505 by arctic monkeys â© no control by one direction â© stateside by pinkpantheress â© you da one by rihanna â© change your ticket by one direction
from zo: HAPPY BIRTHDAY ASAHICORE !!! wow u are 23.25 now! amazing. youngest person ever. happy reading to everyone else and go wish asahicore a happy birthday rn. AS ALWAYS SHARE FEEDBACK OK LMK WHAT U THINK !!!
BACKSTAGE WITH NAPE ON THE âNO WAY BACKâ TOUR.
By: Daydream Mag. Photographs by: Heeseung Lee, Jay Park, Jake Sim & Sunghoon Park.
4:02 P.M. SUNDAY, MARCH 9, 2025. PARIS: If youâre one of NAPEâs four members, how do you spend the hours before the final show of your sold out tour? By sleeping, calling your mum, watching YouTube mukbangs, or taking film photos of your bandmates doing any of the above.
In broken Frenglish, guitarist, Jay, plays tour guide for the green room theyâve made home over the course of their three day concert at the iconic Le Trianon. âDid you know that Rihanna played here?â he asks, eyes wide as he swats away Sunghoonâs camera. âAnd Kesha, and Fifth Harmony? So many legends and now weâre hereâcrazy downgrade.â
This same eager, mildly insecure, energy permeates the green room as the band discuss highlights from the last two months on the road â riding a beer bike in Manchester, seeing the Eiffel Tower at midnight â and express how much they wish the tour could last forever. âPerforming is the absolute best part,â Jake says between slurps of cup ramen he brought with him from London. âWeâre always trying to find local pubs to play in because we canât get enough.â
âThatâs where it all started anyway,â explains their half-asleep frontman, Heeseung. âPlaying in pubs, busking in Zone 5 shoppingâ
âWell, well, well,â Aeri says, appearing over your shoulder and catching you in the act. âIf it isnât Little Miss NAPE-hater drooling over a two-page spread.â
A chill runs down your spine and you couldnât have dropped the magazine quicker if you tried. At your feet, it clatters with a flinch-inducing thud that rings throughout the deserted entrance of your local twenty-four hour Tesco. Neither you nor Aeri make any move to lift Daydream Magâs summer 2025 issue from the speckled tile, so from its glossy cover, the face youâve come to loathe gazes up at you through lidded eyes.
You scoff, affronted by the very suggestion. âIâm not you, Aeri. I wasnât drooling.â And even if you were drooling, it certainly would not have been over Jay Park and his band of idiots. âItâs a four-page spread, by the way.â
âSame difference.â
Over Aeriâs shoulders, the sunâs first rays are threatening to shine through the glass on what is already an obscenely hot day for September. Dye slips from her damp hair down her face like blood, staining her white collar red, and you watch as she takes a picture of the magazine on the floor between your feet and hers before picking it up. She posts the picture to her story with one of NAPEâs songs playing and tags them so they can eventually see it and repost. Theyâre always doing thatâreposting things fans tag them in. Satisfied, Aeri puts the magazine back in its place on the shelf, between Interview and the last copy of Dazed that has a photo of NAPEâs bassist and drummer laying together on the cover like something from a CEO yaoi. You have no idea how or when they got so popular.
Finally, leaving the band behind, you and Aeri loop your sweat slick arms and move through the aisles. You sniff and review scented candles; browse the books on the shelves, sharing thoughts on the ones youâve read; and pick up snacks with Clubcard discounts, all on the way to find the one thing you came for at this time of night: salted caramel cheesecake cookies. Along with the rest of the internet, Aeriâs boyfriend has been raving about them since he tried them two weeks ago, and the three of you have been on high alert ever since. You even reached out to Somiâs little cousin, Riki, whose ex-girlfriend has a friend that works here to see when theyâd be back in stock.
She told him to kill himself.
This is why, when you finally see them â fully stocked and still warm in their bags â you gasp. Understandably, when Aeri tries calling her boyfriend, he doesnât answer, but you take as many as you can carry and run for the self-checkout.
Under the purple sky, you and Aeri walk all the way home, carrier bags in hand. It takes a lot not to eat all thirty cookies as soon as you cross the threshold, but, in an exercise of immense self-control, you leave them in the bread bin, and bid your flatmate goodnight.
Love her as much as youâve come to, you often find yourself wishing it was some incredible story that brought the two of you together. A great tale of intertwined fates and instant connection. Instead, you found Aeri on spareroom.co.uk and when you deemed each other harmless enough, you signed the lease and moved in. It took a few months for you to shake off your anxiety and say more to her than, how did you sleep? but you got there in the end, and almost one whole year down the line, this flat and Aeri feel more like home every day.
As the working worldâs alarms go off, you get into bed, showered and fresh-breathed, where sleep is reluctant to find you. One hundred counted sheep later, you give up and open Twitter. Now, you are mature enough to know better than to engage with content you know youâre not going to likeâyouâre not a critic. But⊠you are a hater. While NAPE havenât yet brought forth the next strain of fandom-induced illness â Ă la Bieber Fever or One Direction Infection â theyâre inescapable if you use the internet in any capacity. Profiles in magazines, Spotify playlist covers, constant viral concert clips: sweat-sheened skin and lidded eyes, long, thick ring-clad fingers strumming guitars or stroking mic stands. The tattooed back of their frontman populates hit tweets and Instagram Reels alike.
Itâs not like youâre immune to attraction or allure. You have eyes. Eyes that widen at the sight of Sunghoon flexing his arms or Jake biting his lip. At Jay and his perfectly mussed hair that sits right at the junction of neat and messy. His two silver hoops in each ear. His dimpled cheek. How he sings with his eyes closed. The scar on his nose that you can only really see up close or when the light hits it just right. Keeping up with things like this is important because if youâre going to be a hater, youâd like to at least be an informed one. This is why, when you search for them on Twitter and the first tweet that comes up is the link to NAPE Catch Each Others Lies | Teen Vogue, you click with no hesitation.
Itâs weird seeing them in motion like this, comfortable and joking around. Not singing. Theyâre decked head to toe in smart casual. Loose blazers and tailored trousers, fake glasses and neatly parted hair, smart shoes and polo shirts. Even though itâs different to their concert outfits and doesnât really match what seems to be their vibe â evil-demon-fuckboy-rockstar â it suits them, highlighting their oddly perfect proportions.
From this video, you learn that Jay doesn't know any of their birthdays, Jake uses Sunghoonâs deodorant, and Sunghoon has never fallen asleep during rehearsal. Heeseung is also there. When the video ends, you fall asleep without a hitch, fresh linen and sweet dreams pulling you under.
Until you force open your heavy eyes to the sound of your phone ringing at eight oâclockâyou slept for exactly two hours. Itâs Aeriâs boyfriend. You canât even speak when you answer, letting out a grumble instead. âWelcome to the land of the living, sweetheart!â he chirps, sounding much too awake for your liking. âCare to open the door?â
âCome back later.â
âBut your breakfast will be cold later.â Thereâs a poutiness to his voice that would irk you if your hungry ears didnât perk up at the sound of breakfast.
Turning over under the covers, you lean up on your elbows. âWhatâs for breakfast?â you ask slowly.
âToadâs.â
To you â and the rest of Londonâs Gen Z population â Toadâs is the breakfast spot. At seven a.m. every day, thereâs a queue that wraps around the corner. They recently issued a statement to request that customers stop selling their spots in line. Tired as you are, the thought of eating Toadâs without having lined up thrills you so much that you run straight to the door and fling it open. There stands Heeseung, a cup-holder in one hand and several paper bags in the other. A pair of sunglasses keep his bleach-fried hair from his forehead.
âYou look nice,â he says, smiling as you step aside to let him in.
Smoothing out your hair with self-conscious palms, you inspect your face in the mirror beside him, seeing the crust lining the corners of your puffy eyes. âWe are not close enough for you to speak to me like that,â you tell him, leaning into your reflection to clean yourself up a little.
Though youâre joking, mostly, Heeseung and Aeri have only been together for two months, and as her close friend, he should be on his best behaviour around you for at least the rest of his life. He frowns, apologising sincerely as he holds out one of the red and white paper bags. âCan I interest you in a forgive me choux vanille?â
The words make your heart race in your chest as you give a reverent nod, taking the bag from him.
âThereâs, like, four of them in thereâall yours.â
You have seen fanpages for these choux vanilles, you have been close to starting one yourself, and here, now, on a random Tuesday morning, standing in your hallway with NAPEâs frontman, you hold in your trembling hands a bag of, like, four of them. Later in life, when the time comes, you will name your firstborn after this man, probably.
âHeeseung,â you say softly. âSpeak to me however you like.â
He laughs at that, as if he hasnât just made your whole week. The soft sound breaks you out of your stupor and you help him carry all one million things he brought. âHowâd you even get all this?â you ask over your shoulder, everything is still warm, perfect. âWhat time did you get there? What time did you even wake up?â
Heeseung follows you into the kitchen, his footsteps light against the hardwood. âWill you think Iâm a prick if I say Iâve been up all night?â His question surprises you as you take in the sight of him once moreâhe is the picture of wakefulness with his bright eyes and glowy skin.
âAh.â You set the goods on the counter, nodding as you take a picture of his haul. âRockstar life, huh?â
A smile spreads over his lips as he rolls up his sleeves, tattoos appearing from under the white cotton, oddly sheepish. For an artist of his â their â size, with his â their â visibility, thereâs a certain meekness to Heeseung that you thought was an act at first, but now youâre not so sure.
âNot even,â he mumbles, looking down at the dark worktop and describing the epitome of rockstar life. âWe had this party thing in Soho, but it was dead so we went round this guyâs flat instead, and he stays proper close, as in the line goes by his front doorâone of Jongseongâs friendsâŠâ
Whether Heeseung knows youâve stopped listening at the mention of that name is anyoneâs guess, but suddenly, your long-awaited Toadâs matcha tastes like nothing and your blood pumps thickly through your body. Loud in your ears. Itâs one thing to anticipate seeing or hearing about him â watching that video before bed or bracing yourself for posters plastered in stations and around the city â but like this, so casually, from the mouth of your one person in common, it still shakes you up.
âWhoa.â He waves his large palm in front of your face. âYou alright?â Concern creases his eyebrows.
An attempt at a light-hearted laugh stumbles from you. âJust sleepy.â A long, ungraceful moment dawdles by as he studies you, performing some form of assessment that youâre sure youâve failed.
âSame, honestly,â he finally agrees, though he doesnât seem convinced. âIâll catch you in a bit, yeah?â
You nod, watching as he makes his way to Aeriâs room and snapping your neck in the other direction when he looks over at you. âYou sure youâre alright?â
âPerfect!â you call out over your shoulder, all but sprinting to your bedroom.
In the privacy of your four walls, you sink into the chair at your desk and eat your steak, brie, and mushroom toastie. Half of it anyway, the thought of Jay is too distracting to enjoy it fully. You open Instagram before you even realise, hitting the search button and typing pzzong without a second thought. Eighteen hours ago, he made a post. A photo dump: his guitar in his lap, a blurry sunrise, a gym selfie with Sunghoonâs naked back in the mirror, a video of a lively crowd, and a piercing through his left eyebrow. Life is good, he wrote. The comments display varying degrees of thirst for Sunghoon. Blue ticks light up the screen as you scroll through them. Heart eyes from Bae Sumin. Best show ever babyyyyyyy from Yeh Shuhua.
Good for him.
Seriously.
You have committed a cardinal sin, for which you will never forgive yourselfâyou forgot your headphones at home. And so, like the rest of Central London, youâve been subject to hearing the rustle of plastic on plastic in your bag as you walk down the street. As it turns out, no matter how delicious, eating thirty ginormous, sickly sweet cookies is quite difficult, so youâre taking them out to the pub where youâre meeting up with some friends.
The bell above the door at Rubyâs rings loud and clear over the radio when you step inside. For a Wednesday afternoon, itâs busier than you expect, patrons crowding the bar and tables alike, though you suppose, as one of them, that this is the way of the unemployed. Speaking of, Riki towers over everyone at the bar, oblivious or uncaring towards the pretty bartenderâs fluttering eyelashes. At the sight of you though, he raises his bleached eyebrows, waving you over.
âThree p.m. tequila shots, donât mind if I do,â you say, beaming into the rough collar of his denim jacket.
His hug is tight and brief. âAw, yeah. Iâve got class in the morning,â he offers unhelpfully, holding up a clear shaker. âSalt?â Riki pours salt all over the back of your hand, more granules falling to your feet than sticking to the spot you licked, and hands you his wedge of lime. Holding up his shot with surprising steadiness, he says, âCâest la vie!â
Doing a shot of straight fire would burn less, but Riki isnât fazed, grabbing you by the wrist and tugging you towards the back of the pub where the rest of your friends are. Yizhuo sees you first, peering over the booth and her face splits into a grin. You feel yours doing the same. She and Somi leap to their feet, pulling you into a hug and wrapping you up in a cloud of florals and spice and beer. âYouâre alive!â Yizhuo cries out, pulling back to get a good look at you, her hand on your jaw to turn your face this way and that. âAnd still so beautiful!â
âAgainst all the odds,â you mumble, accepting the wet kiss Somi plants on your cheek with a smile. Right when you settle into the booth beside Yizhuo, texts from Aeri light up your phone screen, notification bubbles covering up the chestnut horse on your lockscreen.
aeri: heeseung said the guys can make it after all ! he promises theyâll behave
aeri: theyâre not as bad as you think !!!
You groan around a long sweet sip of the cloudy IPA Somi ordered for you. âIâm meeting Aeriâs boyfriendâs friends tonight,â you mumble, sending a thumbs-up emoji in response.
âWait.â Yizhuo pauses, looking over her shoulders before leaning over the table. âNAPE are going to be at your flat tonight?â she whispers, eyes wide and buggy.
What comes from your mouth is a disgusting sigh-groan hybrid that makes Riki flinch as you say, âThe one and only.â
Somiâs entire face crumples and she hunches over, hitting her forehead repeatedly on the tabletop, making it wobble. âWhy do good things keep happening to you instead of me?â
âThis is public knowledge, I texted the chat like a week ago.â You lift your golden pint and Yizhuoâs dark Guinness from the table so they donât slip off the edge. âPlenty of time, no?â
âA week agoâŠâ Riki repeats, voice trailing off into nothing as he rubs his stomach and leans back in his seat. âThatâs like an hourâs notice in employed people's time.â He sighs. âNo offense, YN.â
âOkay, Big Rik.â You scoff. âYouâve had a job for ten minutes.â
He glances at his watch before squinting at you, venom written all over his cute little face. âAnd thatâs ten minutes longer than you, is it not?â
âDid I do something to you?â
âYou know what? Iâm glad you brââ Somi cuts off her little cousin by shutting his mouth with her hand. âCan we please focus on the real issue, youâre partying with NAPE tonight and I canât go.â
âWhy not?â
âMy mumâs up and weâre having dinner,â she says bitterly.
âJust come after.â
âOr donât come at all!â Yizhuo butts in. âI have plans for Jake Sim tonight and I donât need him getting distracted.â
Riki kisses his teeth, shaking his head. âIâm willing to bet a good amount of money that your plans involve staring at him from across the room, then blowing up the chat to talk about how you two caught a vibe.â
This is, to Yizhuo, the greatest offence â despite its truth â and you have to actually hold her back from leaping over the table to strangle Riki, but thereâs nothing you can do about the string of insults that leave her mouth.
Somiâs ring-clad knuckles rap against your side of the table, right beside your glass. âReally sorry about Daydream, by the way. Seriously,â she says, frowning. âIf it makes you feel any better, I heard a bunch of their permanent staff got laid off as well.â
Only now, with Somiâs sincerity, do you realise how long itâs been since you last saw your friends. Nearly three weeks have passed since you lost your job, and this is the first time the four of you have managed to get together. As much as you hate to admit it, Riki was right about needing loads of notice to schedule something as simple as day drinking at the pub. Your world used to revolve around your planner, with separate sections in your worn Filofax for work, personal, and socialâwhich was, largely in part, due to your obsession with stationary. Sitting down on a Sunday night to plan out the week ahead was one of your main hobbies, pencilling in coffee dates and errand-run-hangout hybrids wherever you found an hour or two in common with one of your friends. If you didnât live with Aeri, youâd probably never see her.
âYou know what, Somi? Not really, but thank you.â
Undeterred, she beams at you. âOne door closed is a million doors opened, I swear.â
âCheers to that!â Riki grins, raising his shot glass to his cousinâs nonsensical proverb.
Pushing your doubts away, you raise your pint and toast to the possibility of a million doors opening up before you. Beautiful doors with even more beautiful things behind them, of course. You need all the luck you can get.
Somi has time to nurse another half pint before she has to leave, begging you to text her everything about tonight as it happens. You make no promises. Itâs another four pints and a sunset before the rest of you get up to leave, zigging and zagging through the crowded bar out into the crisp fresh air. And because the speakers in the beer garden are playing music, different music to what was on inside, Riki makes you and Yizhuo sit shivering with him at a picnic bench so he can listen to Folded by Kehlani.
âFuck, Riki,â Yizhuo mutters, rubbing her face with her hands when the second verse starts. âDonât you have music at home?â
He rolls his eyes, pausing his singing to say, âIâm sure even you could appreciate that hearing a song you like in the wild is way better than listening to it at home.â
âI would love to agree with you, but I have central heating at home.â Your teeth chatter when you finish talking, and all you can think about is your bed and the multiple other ways you could be experiencing warmth at home right now. Hot water bottle. Electric blanket. Taking a bath. Cuddling with Aeri.
âYou also have NAPE at home.â Yizhuo points out.
âWeâre all going there, whatâs your point?â
She pulls a face that you know means sheâs not coming.
âWe?â Riki repeats, eyes bulging out of his head. âIâm going home. Thereâs music at home, as Yizhuo so kindly reminded me.â
âNeither of you are coming? Are you serious?â
âAs a heart attack, brother.â He nods solemnly, standing up from his seat as the song comes to an end. âNone of my mutuals are going.â He pats his pockets, in search of the big three â phone, wallet, keys â before zipping up his jacket.
âYour mutualsâŠâ Yizhuo trails off, eying him. âRiki, this is real life.â
âAlso itâs literally my flat, where I live⊠I thought we were mutuals.â
âLadies, please.â He holds up his hands defensively. âI can ragebait Jay Park any time, okay, I donât need to go to your house to do that. I also think I reserve the right to sleep in my own bed tonight. Alone.â
âWho else would be in your bed?â Yizhuo scrunches her nose, pulling the fallen strap of her bag back up her shoulder.
Gesturing towards all six feet of himself, Riki licks his lips, stumbling just a little. âHave you seen me?â he asks, a smug smile curling over his mouth.
âUnfortunately, we have, princess,â you say, patting his back. âLetâs get you home.â
Rubyâs isnât your favourite pub, but itâs the best option if youâre drinking with Riki, because he stays so close and the only way any of you will have peace of mind after a night out is if you actually see him getting into his flat and hear the lock clicking behind him. The three of you walk arm in arm with Princess Riki towering over you in the middle. It takes all of fifteen minutes to get to his place and then the station across the road. Side by side on the platform, Yizhuo bumps your hip with hers. âHow are you feeling?â
Given the pile of her texts you havenât yet returned, you have a good idea of what sheâs referring to. Even so, you ask, âAbout?â
Yizhuo gives you a look, pursing her lips before mumbling your name. She got lucky, jumping off the slowly sinking Daydream ship in time to snag a senior editorial position at Interview. Sheâd encouraged you to do the same, move up in your career, but no, you just had to prove your unwavering loyalty to a company for which you were no more than a name on a list. A recipient for an email with the subject line: Notice of Organisational Changes. Hindsight, as always, is 20/20 and the signs were there before you even got to London. The Edinburgh office, where youâd worked since graduating, closed last summer for financial reasons. Transferring seemed like a no-brainer, a blessing, but if you knew you had a year left, you wouldâve stayed put.
âThe downtimeâs nice.â Over the last three weeks youâve fixed your sleeping schedule, started and finished eight books, gone home to see Minjeong, applied and been rejected from nine editorial positions, and played through all of Super Mario Bros. Wonder. Twice. âI do, however, enjoy receiving a salary, so it would be nice to work again. Quite soon.â
Yizhuo nods, squeezing your shoulder. âIâll keep an eye out for openings, but it might help to get your work out there, keep you sharp and all that. Are you on Substack?â
You laugh in her face. Itâs 2025, everyone is on Substackâincluding the two-hundred subscribers you panicked and abandoned when your page started gaining traction. âYes, Yizhuo. Iâm on Substack.â
âPerfect!â she exclaims and because this is the Central Line and Londoners do not care about anyone else, no one spares her a glance. Your cheeks burn anyway. A happy sigh falls from her lips, and she tilts her head. âWrite and post, write and post. Anyone will read anything these days, just get your name and your gorgeous words online, and I promise, youâll be rolling in opportunities.â
âYizhuoâŠâ
âIâm serious. Write about your crazy NAPE party tonight, God knows how many people would kill to be in your position.â She lets go of the handrail and makes a show of pointing at herself with both hands. âJust do something, okay? Youâre too young to sit in your room watching TV all day. You need to leave your house and live your life and see your friends.â
âI know, Yizhuo. I know that,â you mumble, fiddling with the hem of your jacket. âItâs not on purpose or anything, I just⊠sometimes I need a day to do nothing, and then itâs two days and then itâs a week.â Your stomach curls in on itself at the thought. The longer you spend at home, the harder it is to leave. You had to psych yourself up this afternoon, staring at your reflection and repeating: my friends do not secretly hate me. My friends enjoy my company. I am good company.
She frowns. âI get that, really. But you donât have to deal with everything on your own, you have friends. A lot of friends who love you and want to spend time with you.â It all sounds a bit like an affirmation tape, a YouTube subliminal, and maybe if those werenât the exact words you needed to hear right now, you might have laughed. âNext time youâre home doing nothing, text me and we can rot together, okay?â
You nod.
âAnd please, please, please get some NAPE dick tonight and review it ASAP,â Yizhuo says, whispering the name of the band as if that was the worst part of her sentence.
âIâll pass.â
âNot a request.â
âOkay, daddy. Iâll do it,â you say, which, of course, makes Londonâs so-called nonchalant population turn their heads in your direction.
Yizhuoâs head falls back with laughter and you look up at the map above the door. Seven more stops for you, though hers is next. She pulls you into a hug, and you hide your face in her puffer jacket, willing your cheeks to stop burning. It doesnât work. When the doors slip open, she kisses your cheeks and says, âSee you later, Kitten.â
Flustered doesnât even begin to describe how you feel as you call out, âText me when youâre home, okay?â
She nods and blows you a kiss before climbing the stairs, disappearing into the sea of commuters leaving the station while the doors close. The Tube chugs on, homeward bound. With Yizhuoâs words on a loop, you finish the rest of the journey home, relieved to feel the autumn wind on your cheeks when you get back outside.
Dread stirs a pit in your stomach as you hear the party before you even see your front door. And dread almost kills you as you take careful steps around the people sitting in the corridor to get inside. The music is loud but there arenât as many people as you thought. Itâs mainly just a bunch of influencers you recognise by IG handle instead of nameâjenaissante and _chaechae_1 are stretched over your couch, yawnzzn laughs with you.th in the kitchen doorway.
Heeseung spots you before you have a chance to retreat to your room. He is elated and red all over, pulling you into a hug, and wrapping his warm tobacco scent around you. âHello!â he yells into your ear, before gesturing behind himself. âJake and Sunghoon.â NAPEâs bassist and drummer, the ones from the yaoi magazine cover you went back for a copy of, are somehow much better looking in person.
The camera doesnât quite do justice to Jakeâs large⊠everything. His eyes, nose, lips, and rose-tinted knuckles are so big and so beautiful. He tucks some of his hair behind his ear and smiles with all of his teeth. âNice finally meeting you,â he says, seeming to mean it. Having a favourite member in a band where you know half of the members personally feels wrong, but Jake is that for you, and so, the tipsy fangirl-adjacent part of you gives him a hug that he graciously returns.
At his side, Sunghoon stands in a white button-up that clings to his huge biceps. Great. His hair is perfectly parted over his forehead, his tie tight and straight. His lips are plump and pink, pulling into a sheepish smile as he raises his huge hand to wave at you. The sight of it, the dimple in his cheek, sets off a flutter in your stomach and you canât help giggling like heâs done something special. âWeâve heard so much,â he says. âI mean, Jââ He groans, keeling over and clutching his ribs where Jake elbowed him.
âItâs true, Gigiâs always talking about you,â Jake finishes off like nothing happened. âSomething to drink?â
Dazed, you blink at the band boy, but take him up on his kind offer of a drink in your home. Jake leads you through the sparse crowd, weaving artfully towards your kitchen and making small talk along the way. âI actually used to play in church,â he tells you, opening your cupboards and taking out what he needs. Absolut Vanilla, simple syrup. A sticky bottle of Schweppes swiped from the kitchen island behind you. âI wanted girls to like me.â
âDid it work?â
Jake looks up from the counter at you, a smile playing at the corner of his lips as he halts his mixology. âOf course it worked,â he says, disbelief written all over his face. âBut I was too shy to do anything about it.â
âI see,â you say, struggling to conceal your laughter as he hands you a cup.
âWasnât for nothing though.â He shrugs, leaning against the counter. âI guess you could say Iâm pretty confident these days.â
Youâve seen enough about NAPE online, fanwars and uproar about the personal lives of the members, to know firsthand heâs not exactly lying. This is the face of some of Pinterestâs favourite couple inspo, one half of the now-mourned JakeZuha. Youâd met her once, Kazuha, at a work thing. One of Daydreamâs holiday parties. She was nice, more than, even if she didnât have much to say about anything that wasnât her boyfriend. Their breakup in the winter had fanpages proclaiming that love was dead and that they were children of divorce.
The thought makes you laugh in his face and youâre just glad he laughs too as you clink the rims of your plastic cups together.
Armed with the sweetest vodka lemonade youâve ever had, you head to your room, desperate to change out of your jeans. After triple checking the lock on your door, you leave your jeans in a heap at your feet, stepping out of them and towards your dresser, where you settle on your favourite grey sweatpants and resolve to only be photographed from the waist up. One large gulp of drink, a deep breath, and you pull open the door, returning to the partyâif fifteen people in your flat can really be described as such.
Before you can go over and join Aeri, a knock at the front door catches your attention, though you seem to be the only one to hear it. The knock comes again and you roll your eyes, unwilling to apologise for noise at nine p.m. on a Friday night. You know your rights. At the sound of a third knock, you stomp over to the door and fling it open.
âMrs. Kim, weâJay?â
The last year of your life living in London has been long. A massive adjustment. Hiked up prices and supermarkets closing early on Sundays, learning Tube routes and constantly being an hour away from any given plan youâve made. So much has changed. You have changed. You are not the same petrified grown up who left everything she knew to move here, nor are you the same lovestruck girl Jay abandoned all those years ago. Yet the sight of him, live and in person and standing at your door dislodges something in your chest. In your memories, those odd dreams you have from time to time, he always looks so grown up. Jay at twenty. Twenty-one. It had never occurred to you back then how young you both were, especially given that he was a year older. Reconciling that version of him with the 25-year-old man before you now is impossible. The last of his baby fat, those stubborn chubby cheeks you loved with everything you had are gone now.
Is there any part of him, of this stranger, that you still know?
His hair is slicked back, a few strands left down, streaking over his forehead in that handsome way. Youâd always liked it back like this, though he rarely did it. Reserved it for special occasions. Grad Ball Jay. Anniversary Jay. 25-year-old Jay. Even though the sun is down, a huge pair of sunglasses rests on the straight bridge of his nose. The silver ball above his eyebrow shines in the light. Making sense of the odds in your mind is impossible. How, at once, you are pleased to see him and thoroughly disgusted by it. How after everything, he can look at you, smile, and say your name.
âJayâŠâ you say again, trailing off, uncertain and half-expecting him to vanish into thin air, like some hyperrealistic figment of your imagination, complete with the cologne he used to wear. Scent â his scent â that most powerful of senses that hurtles you into the past as soon as you catch it. Hurtles you long back into his soft hoodies. Into your bed where that same honey musk lingered on the sheets long after he left.
âItâs so good to see you,â he says, sincere as ever.
âI know,â you agree, stomach turning. Nervous. Nauseous. âI, uh, I do think Iâm going to be sick, though.â
Before you have the chance to rush away from him, to do anything, you wretch and spew alcohol onto the doormat between his feet and yours.
Pinching yourself does nothingâthis is not a nightmare to be woken from.
âFuck,â Jay says, crouching into view. Concern drenches his features, the last thing you see before screwing your eyes shut. âAre you okay?â
Mortification creeps through every last inch of your body, settling between your bones. This is not happening. This can not be happening. Seeing Jay again was supposed to be an event of Princess Diana revenge dress proportions. You own a revenge dress! You had grand plans to make Jay Park regret the day he was born, never mind the day he dumped you. Yet here you are, in a crop top and joggers covered in your own vomit.
âGreat, Jay,â you mutter. âIâm great.â
Against your better judgment, you let him take you to the bathroom where you lean over the toilet bowl. Nothing comes out, but he rubs your back and holds your hair away from your skin anyway. His gentle touch burns through your clothes. âAre you alright?â
Kneeling on the checkerboard linoleum with Jay at your side has been a real test of strength, though, even with your screaming joints, youâre certain itâs better than the alternativeâactually having to look at him. Weepy-eyed and vomit-breathed. âIâm fine,â you say for the hundredth time, sighing. âYou can stop asking now.â
He scoffs, an amused sound that heats your skin to hear. Behind your closed eyelids, you can picture the look on his face. Clearly see the lopsided curve of his lips, the hint of a dimple. âAlright, my bad for worrying after you threw up all over me.â
Your hair slips from his hold when you whip your head to face him, strands sticking to your neck as soon as theyâre free. Frantically, your eyes search his dark jeans. âIt got on you?â
Jay smiles and he is so painfully gorgeous in the warm light of your shared bathroom, sitting on the edge of the tub. Seeing him here, seeing him at all makes your heart stutter. âNo, YN.â He shakes his head, quickly, voice a low rumble. âYouâre all good.â
You hum, raking a hand through your hair. âIâm all good,â you agree.
Now that your level of goodness has been sufficiently clarified, Jay clears his throat. âAlright, champ,â he says, as if you are an eight-year-old little boy while helping you to your feet in much the same manner. âLetâs get you cleaned up, yeah?â
On your waist the weight of his palm, the heat of it, is dizzying, and your alcohol consumption and post-vomit fogginess do nothing to stop the room from tilting. âDonât touch me,â you croak, wriggling out of his grip. The words are rough on your throat.
Ever respectful, he lets go at once, stepping back and apologising as he flushes the toilet. A thrum of irritation flares in your head, hammering at your skull, at how easily that word came out of him, sorry, slipping from his little pink mouth and over the smallest thing. At once, the desire to wring his neck and to press your lips against his spar in your head. Neither wins. âSo that you can apologise for,â you say under your breath instead.
Somehow, the look he gives you â tilted head, wide eyes, lips ajar â is the worst thing thatâs happened since he arrived. Jay pities you, his scorned lover. The tightness in your chest is immediate, a thick knot that wonât give. Before he can speak, you turn away to clutch the sink and it is a grand effort. âDonât look at me like that.â
âLike what?â
âItâs fine, Jay. Iâm fine,â you say, though it is the furthest thing from fine you can think of. âIt was a big deal to me and not to you. Weâre over it, weâre fine.â
In the mirror, he looks at you like youâve grown a second head, like you are Patrick Zweig asking for Tashi Duncanâs coaching. âNot a big deal to me?â he repeats, incredulous. âAre you kidding? Who said it wasnât a big deal to me?â
You cover your face with your hands, sighing into your palms. âWeâre not having this conversation.â
âI think we need to.â
âYeah, Jay. We did,â you agree, catching his eye in the glass. Itâs a mistake. âAbout three years ago before you up and left out of nowhere.â
âOut of nowhere?â he says, as if he absolutely must repeat everything that comes out of your mouth. âI was always moving back here, YN. That was always my plan, you knew that.â
Your eyes sting at the corners. Tears eager to spill. Heâs right. You did know that. Jay made it explicitly clear. But there had been a time back then, when you were a part of those plans too. When his tongue slipped around I and we like they were the same thing. They were. To you. When we go to London⊠He brought you here that last winter. You drank Baileyâs hot chocolate at Winter Wonderland and met his parents. Met Heeseung. Jay had a life here, a vibrant one, and with each day you spent together, it became harder to imagine him anywhere else. By the fireplace in his family home, he asked you if you liked it, liked London. Of course you did. The flame raged warm in his brown eyes when he asked if you could see yourself here, with him. Your heart was beating in your throat. You loved London, and you loved Jay even more. You would have moved to Aberdeen if thatâs where he wanted to go.
âJay?â
His gaze softens, gone is the harsh crease of his brow, his squinting eyes. Itâs like staring the past dead in the face. Everything you wanted so badly and never got to have. âYeah?â he says gently.
âGet to fuck.â
Jay clenches his jaw, nodding slowly. âIf thatâs what you want.â He closes the door softly behind him when he leaves.
Itâs only now, alone, that you register the hammering of your heart, the thudding of your pulse in your ears. You cry into the sink until your head hurts. You brush your teeth. Wash your face.
Opposite the bathroom door, Jay leans on the wall. Sunglasses on. Bottle of water in his white knuckle grip. He holds it out for you to take and you sigh, far beyond the mood to hear whatever he has to say. Minted by Colgate and Listerine, the water is ice in your mouth. Refreshing. âThanks.â
Jay flicks off the bathroom light by your shoulder. âIâm sorry,â he says.
Together, you turn down the hall and into the living room. All of the guys â NAPE, at least â lapse into silence to watch you, though Heeseung is polite enough to pretend heâs not staring. Your stomach turns. Leaning up to Jayâs ear is grossly reflexive when you ask, âDo theyââ You pause, pursing your lips and knowing the answer already. âObviously Heeseung knows, butâŠâ
âI told them.â
No matter how evil he was / is, he has every right to talk about what happened. About what he did. Itâs Jayâs story as much as itâs yours, and he can do with it what he wants, regardless of how mortifying it is to think of other people knowing. What you did with it, and intend to continue doing with it, was keep the whole ordeal to yourself, like any other mentally sound adult woman would, which is obviously very healthy and working out really well for you. Jay had to move back home and we agreed itâd be best to end things. This is the version of events everyone else in your life has heard, and itâs what Minjeong and Jaehyun would have heard if it wasnât for your living with them.
âSorry,â he adds in a low voice.
That word again, easier than breathing it seems. âItâs fine.â
At the sight of you, Aeriâs face lights up and she stumbles out of Heeseungâs lap and over to you, taking you into her tattooed arms like itâs been an age since you last saw each other. In a way, you canât believe it hasnât been. âHere you are!â With her hands cradling your elbows, she takes a good look at you, eyes latching onto every part of your face. âYou feeling okay?â
âPerfect!â Your voice is unusually high, strained.
âHeeseung cleaned up.â Aeriâs gaze flickers over your shoulder and she grins. âAnd I see you two have met.â
âActuallyââ Jay starts, but you talk over him. âYeah!â You face him, grinning too widely and extending a hand for him to shake. âSorry about that. Iâm YN.â
Only after a moment does his confusion clear and he takes your hand in his, shaking it. His fingertips are rougher than you remember, thick callouses boiling hot on your skin. âNice meeting you,â he says, holding onto you for just too long. Too long for a conventional first meeting, anyway. No amount of time holding Jay Parkâs hand could ever be long enough.
True peace and relaxation only find you when everyone has left, trickling out into Londonâs night time, cluster by cluster. Heeseung and his band boys stayed behind to tidy up and get their hands on one last pint before leaving your place even neater than theyâd found it.
While you wash the breakfast dishes you abandoned in your room this morning, Aeri tiptoes into the kitchen behind you, humming happily to herself and pulling you into her arms. âTheyâre not so bad, are they?â Unfortunately, she and the rest of the world are correct. NAPE arenât so bad after all. In fact, they are perfectly charming, and funny, and kind. Even their evil guitarist. You hum in response and focus on keeping a firm grip on your bowl as you move it to the drying rack.
âAndâŠâ She trails off, apparently waiting for you to finish her sentence. Much to her dismay, you do not. Aeri lets go of you and leans on the counter at your side, tipping her head to see your face. âWhat do we think of Jay?â she asks in a sing-song voice, and if she were referring to literally any other guy on the planet, youâd have smiled along with her.
But she isnât and the sound of his name dries your mouth. âHeâs⊠okay,â you say after too long. âSeems nice.â
Aeriâs jaw drops. âHeâs okay?â Her disbelief is palpable, expressed through every part of her. âHe held your hair while you threw up in the toilet and you think heâs just okay?â
âI actually didnât throw up at all in the toilet,â you correct her, like that makes it any better, defensive in an off-putting way that makes you cringe. âBut I guess the rockstar thing doesnât really do it for me.â
âThe rockstar thing,â she repeats under her breath, shaking her head. âWhat about the freakishly understanding thing? Or, I donât know, the extremely fuckable guy thing?â
A pit takes over your stomach. âYouâve fucked him?â You donât mean to ask, or to sound so dejected when you do, but the words come out before you can help it.
âJesus, no.â Aeri sighs. âIâm not that lucky.â
You hate how relieved you are to hear it.
âHeâs, like, impressively celibate. I wouldnât be surprised if he had on, like, a chastity belt or some shit.â She shakes her head solemnly. âA damn shame if you ask me,â she starts, though quickly changes her tune. âBut, you know, Iâm obviously very lucky with Heeseung⊠yadda yadda yadda.â
A scoff comes out of you, but you canât help the smile on your face. âRight.â
Aeri yawns and stretches her arms out over her head. âBelieve me when I say I cannot wait to see the kind of person who does it for you.â Itâs the last thing she says before she kisses your temple and heads for bed.
you: I threw up on Park Jongseong tn.
minjeong: YEEEEEAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHH
In bed, you open your phone and search for the thread you havenât looked at in years. His contact still has a kissy face in it.
jongseong đœ: i got my shift swapped soooooo sleepover?
you: đđđ YES YES YES YES YES YES
jongseong đœ: hahaha leaving in 10 â€ïžâđ„
jongseong đœ: baby baby baby baby baby baby
Because this knife to the gut isnât quite sharp enough, you search for the word dakgaejang, and those first messages come up.
jongseong đœ: hey yn! itâs jongseong from earlier, i hope you donât mind me asking around for your number, iâm only now realising how creepy this is⊠i just wanted to make sure you were able to get home okay, and iâm really sorry i couldnât walk you all the way back, i swear i meant to! and donât worry about the hoodie, just hold onto it and stay cozy!!! if you have someone at home who can cook, my mom has this insane recipe for dakgaejang, that shit could cure anything, and if you donât have someone at home who can cook, iâd be happy to whip some up for you when i get home and drop it off!!!
jongseong đœ: whatever works for you, okay? just lmk!
When you finally fall asleep, you dream of Jay. Of Jay and your university bedroom back in that freezing Edinburgh flat. At the foot of your bed, he hurriedly picked his clothes from the floor while your space heater roared into the cold. You leaned up on your elbows, but said nothing. You couldnât speak. Finally, he saw you and froze in place. This was not the Jay of years past. Not Jongseong. It was Jay as heâd been last night. With his hair slicked back and his worn leather jacket over his broad shoulders. Still, he gave you that same look. Those same soft and sleepy eyes.
âSorry, beautiful,â he mumbled, his voice low and thick. âI didnât mean to wake you.â
You shook your head. âItâs okay.â
All it took was one blink, and he was right there, kneeling at the side of the bed. âIâm glad we got to see each other again, YN. Iâve really missed you.â His palm rested on your cheek, calluses on the tips of his fingers. âGet some sleep, okay? Iâll be back soon,â he said. A dimple dented his cheek when you nodded, and his soft lips grazed yoursâyou wake up with a start, sweat-drenched and heavy breathing. Heart pounding in your chest. Tears welling in your eyes.
When you finally manage to get out of bed, you go straight to the shower. You donât bother drying your hair after, which you will regret. On the kitchen counter, the kettle boils noisily, but you canât bring yourself to worry about waking your flatmate. Canât bring yourself to worry about anything other than the fact you havenât been able to steady your breathing in the thirty minutes since you tore yourself from your damp cheeks.
A door clicks shut down the hallway, making you flinch. Heeseung appears in the doorway wearing nothing but a pair of black sweatpants. âHowâd you sleep?â he asks through a yawn.
Your dream, Jay, comes to mind quickly and with no warning. The ghost of his palm on your cheek, his lips on yours, all so vivid like heâs here with you now. Like he really spent the night. âSame as always,â you say, clearing your throat. âYou?â
âSlept alright.â He shrugs and takes a glass from the cabinet by your head, filling it up with water from the filter. âAre you going to tell Gigi or should I?â
The drop of your stomach is immediate. âTell Gigi what?â
After a sip of water, he presses his lips into a flat line and takes a moment, like heâs carefully choosing his next words. âI know itâs none of my business butââ
âStay out of it then,â you interrupt, pulling the kettle from the element and filling your mug. Instant espresso splashes onto the counter.
âBut heâs really sorry, you know?â Heeseung says as if it makes a difference.
Heâs sorry? Great! The urge to punch Heeseung in the face for his crime of simply having a functional relationship with your lifeâs great evil is overbearing. Your clenched fist trembles at your side and a maniacal laugh rips out of you. He takes a step back. Your coffee burns your tongue. âWow, Heeseung! Why didnât he just say so? Holy shit, this changes everything!â
âYNââ
Desperate for this conversation to be over, to bury yourself under your duvet and start again tomorrow, you cut him off yet again. âItâs not your mistake to fix.â
âYouâre right.â Heeseung sighs. âIâm sorry.â
âLook, obviously youâre going to stick up for your friend, I get that and itâs fine. Itâs just that Iâm not exactlyââ You pause, running a hand over your face. âI have a lot I need to figure out.â The awareness of how long youâve had to do just that, and how long youâve spent avoiding it, weighs heavy on your shoulders.
He nods, twisting the back of the stud in his ear. âOf course, YN. Itâs just⊠you knowâŠâ He trails off, gesturing vaguely into the space between you with both hands. âIâm your friend too, I hope. And, itâs not like I think he can justify what he did, but it might be helpful to hear why he did it. From him?â he suggests, voice tipping upwards as your eyes get progressively more squinted.
The absolute last thing you need right now, is to hear Jay wax poetic about being a true artist and unlocking oneâs inner self. How he absolutely had to leave and that was it, you werenât allowed to be upset about it, because trapping an artist in a box would be like clipping a birdâs wings. Or something.
âJust think about it, yeah?â
For lack of anything better to do, you blow on your coffee, rippling the surface before taking a cautious sip. Over the rim of your cup, Heeseung is watching you, gnawing at his bottom lip with his teeth. If not for the twinkle of hope in his ginormous eyes, you wouldnât give in and say, âFine, Iâll think about it.â
His face lights up like you gave him a firm yes and he claps his hands together. âAre you free on Friday night?â
You splutter, coughing into your elbow as you put down your cup. âYouâre giving me thirty-six hours to make up my mind?â
âNo, not at all. No rush, I swear,â he says, waving his hands frantically. âWeâre playing a show at The Helmet, and I thought it would be cool if you came along.â
Disbelief tugs at your brow. âYou thought that?â
Heeseung opens and closes his mouth repeatedly, saying nothing. And if you werenât so curious, youâd drop the subject and decline, but⊠âI thinkââ He starts, cutting himself off to look at the ceiling. Then, with his hand on his heart, âAll of us would be honoured to have you there. Collectively.â
Youâve seen enough clips online to know that seeing NAPE perform, seeing Jay, would do horrible things for not only your healing journey, but for feminism at large.
As if sensing your reluctance, he adds, âYou can come backstage and everything!â
âThat would be lovely, Heeseung. No thank you.â Right as the words leave your mouth, Yizhuo crosses your mind and you ask, âIs Jake single?â
With saucers for eyes, he tilts his head. âPardon?â
âIs he?â
âAre you asking for yourself?â
âWould that change your answer?â
A quiet second passes, Heeseungâs actually thinking about it. âThat depends.â
âIâm not going, but I have some friends, two, who would genuinely die to go backstage,â you explain unhelpfully. âIâll speak to Aeri about it and they can all go together.â
âNo can do, YN.â Heeseung purses his lips. âIf youâre not backstage, then your friends arenât either.â
âThen I guess they wonât be backstage.â You frown, lifting your coffee from the counter. The steam has cleared. âBreak a leg, rockstar.â On your way out, you pat Heeseung on the back.
Poor Somi and Yizhuo.
The Helmet is a pub of relative dinginess. Each step you take is a mild effort for how sticky the floor is with God knows how many hours of uncleaned booze. And quite small compared to the venues NAPE have been selling out recently, but according to Aeri, âThis place has sentimental value! They played their first ever gig here, itâs special.â
She loops her arm through yours and drags you into the throng, not caring who she elbows. And the elbowed donât seem to mind either when they realise itâs Heeseungâs girlfriend. And you. And Somi. And Yizhuo and Riki and Jaehyun. There is no barricade between the stage and the crowd. Just a foot high elevation and a whole lot of trust from the lack of security the pub seems to boast. Despite how packed it is, itâs not difficult to get to the bar, as evidenced by Jaehyun and Rikiâs trips back and forth to supply you guys with drinks.
The DJ plays a jarring mix of alt-rock and 60âs pop music and everything in between. Museâs Supermassive Black Hole becomes Like I Love You by Justin Timberlake becomes Surfinâ U.S.A. Who the target audience is, youâre not sure, but the more you drink â and the more Riki moves his broad shoulders to the beat â it becomes easier and easier to bear.
âI went to international school with that guy!â Riki yells in your ear. âNameâs Asahi and heâs fucking crazy.â
âThe DJ?â
âNo, you idiot. Thatâs Jungwon.â Riki flicks your forehead. âI mean the bartender.â
Around you, the crowd cheers raucously when the stage lights dim. Nothing happens. The DJ continues to terrorise all of you with more insane transitions â Sugar Water Cyanide into No One Noticed â and you continue to drink.
The lights go dim and the crowd around you roars. At your side, Aeri shakes like sheâs the one about to perform, grabbing your hand and giving it a tight squeeze. She doesnât let go. Another swell of screams fills the air as a song starts playing, one of NAPEâs. No Way Back was the first and last NAPE song you ever listened to. It was everywhereâthe lead single of their debut album, the title of the tour they just finished, the common song choice for TikTok OOTDs and DIMLs. They were everywhereâBBC Live Lounge, The Tonight Show, Saturday Night Live.
And, much to your dismay, they were damn good.
In the blink of an eye, the lights come up slowly and you hold your breath as NAPE appear on stage. With Aeri, you look straight up at Heeseung who smiles, leaning towards the mic and singing, âWhen the last sun setsâŠâ
They are a golden spotlighted blur to your tipsy eyes, but Jay has maybe never looked so good. Thereâs nothing special about wearing a flannel over a plain white T-shirt, you know that, but on him, now, itâs mesmerising. He is mesmerising. Glowing under the lights and so, so close. His guitar sits right by his waistband, veins criss-crossing over the backs of his hands as he plays. Goosebumps rise along your skin, and a funny feeling ravages your stomach. Butterflies on crack, just like the first time you saw him.
It seemed unjust that someone like him could exist not only on your campus, but within walking distance of your flat without you knowing. That someone so handsome had been existing and so close to you for three years. That was all you could think back then. If only weâd met earlier. If only we had more time. It was a real cosmic injustice. You had no real plans to stay in Edinburgh, but not for lack of wanting toâthere you had a roof over your head, you had friends, and you had Jay. You had nights spent curled around him, you had mindblowing sex, and you had something special and real that you will never get back.
Knowing what he has now, it would have been ludicrous for Jay to stay behind. He has a crowd screaming his name, and a flat right in the centre of London and most of all, he has accepted that things are over and his life is better for it.
When you lift your stinging eyes from his guitar, heâs already looking at you. His eyes are wide, his lips set apart. He looks like heâs seen a ghost, like he too is using this most inconvenient of moments to mourn the past. To mourn you. He freezes, fingers stilling over the strings for long enough that Heeseung casts a look in his direction.
You chew on your bottom lip until it hurts and snatch Jaehyunâs cup out of his hand to finish it. When the song ends, the crowd erupts into cheers, again.
Jay Park is a god among men.
âWhat you saying, London?â Heeseung says, grinning, and the crowd goes crazy over it. Over him. You canât blame them. Thereâs a charm to him, like this, standing in front of you on the stage. Heeseung the idol, you the⊠well, reluctant fan of sorts. âWeâre NAPE and weâve got a special show prepared for you tonight.â
The crowd cheers. To his credit, Heeseung is electric on stage, and you are standing so close you can see the sweat beading along his hairline and can already predict the tweets youâre going to see later about all of this. For fear of doing something rash, like jumping on the stage and tackling Jay for a kiss, you keep your eyes trained on the reflective red of Heeseungâs microphone as he continues to speak to the crowd.
âIf tonightâs your first time with us, then allow me to introduce the band,â he says, his voice low in a way youâve never heard before as he gestures behind him. Sunghoon on the drums, Jake on the bass, and his good friend, Jay on the guitar.
âThank you for that, good friend Heeseung.â The words leave Jayâs mouth in a slow mumble, his cheeks a little flushed as he touches his palm to his heart. The screams for him seem the loudest by far, but that might be because youâre screaming with everyone else. âItâs good to see you guys, Iâm Jay. Letâs have fun tonight, London.â
They launch into the next song immediately, a funky track about how theyâre always going to be there for their ex who they left in unfavourable circumstances and still love. Sunshine, another unfortunately good song that is a perfect fit for Jayâs voice. Minjeong was the one who sent this single to you when it first came out, along with a message telling you to check the credits. Jay was listed as the sole writer.
Artists take creative liberties, you know that, and itâs easy to see why an attractive guy writing about still loving his ex, no matter what, would do better than an attractive man singing about being Satanâs son. But still, itâs weird to think of the millions of listeners who think they know what happened because Jay wrote about it. Who think he is the perfect, sweet, dream man whoâd do anything to be wherever you are. Unless, of course, that place is Scotlandâthough you can see how that might have been difficult to rhyme.
And even still, despite your growing irritation, you canât help but look at him in awe.
They play one song after another â not saying much â and you donât know any of them, but they only get better. The crowd gets more excited, louder somehow, and Jay only gets harder to look away from. Seeing him like this, on stage, is overwhelming. His skin honeyed under the strong lights, slick with sweat making him glow. His thick fingers move quickly over the frets, his straight teeth bite his bottom lip. When he leans towards the mic, his lips brush the top of it, eyes meeting yours. You can see how people idolise him, idolise them, because holding his gaze, staring into the eyes of the man you once knew is impossible, and itâs an effort to stay upright on your weak knees.
A song called Helium closes to raucous screams and applause and all of the members look to Jay. You do the same. As the crowd calms down, he chuckles, tilting his head. Around his hairline, damp strands stick to his face, his temples, and he leans down, mouth a breath away from the mic. âThis last song is actually, uh⊠Itâs pretty personal, you know? Itâs the first song I wrote when I moved back here,â he says, scrunching his nose. Jay is clearly nervous, his cheeks and neck turning rosy.
The girl behind you says, âHeâs so cute when heâs shy!â And you hate that she has learned him enough to see what you do. Hate that she has learned him enough to have formed opinions on Jay and his tendencies, while being lucky enough not to know him personally.
Lucky enough to look at him and see hardly anything more than a blank slate upon which to project her every whim and fancy. This version of Jay, her Jay, that she has gotten to know through YouTube videos and overanalysing social media captions. Who she must imagine is very clear and upfront about his feelings, if thatâs what sheâs into. What does anyone in this crowd know about Jay? How lucky they all are to have only a part of the picture that makes up the whole, to have straightforward positive feelings for and towards this side of him that anyone with internet access can see. Lucky not to know what itâs like to fall asleep by his side, or to be scared half to death in the middle of the night to find him sleeping with his eyes half open. Lucky not know what itâs like to miss those things. To miss him.
âWe donât really do this one live, but Heeseung wasnât lying when he said tonight was special.â His eyes flick over to you for the longest second and Jaehyun nudges your ribs.
While the crowd erupts once again, he shows you something on his phone. Itâs his Notes app, with the words, get a fucking load of this male manipulator, written in all caps and bold. And because, yeah, Iâm trying to, isnât the right response, you can only offer your friend a forced chuckle before you gulp.
âSo for what I think is the first time ever, hereâs Carolina,â Jay says, launching into the opening chords. There is a clear difference between this song and the rest. Itâs upbeat, and catchy, sounding almost like what you imagine would happen if The Beatles had made a song you enjoyed.
It is also, quite clearly, about youâthough it was your father who told you to swim before you drown.
If you had your wits about you, you would probably turn on your heels and storm out. How unfair of Jay to do this. To sing about you and your life and the heartbreak he inflicted on you without so much as a simple text to let you know. Give you a heads up. Hey, I wrote a really fucking good song about our relationship for my first EP and reduced two years to a one night stand lmao. Unfortunately, you do not have your wits about you, and so, as you stand there bobbing your head to the beat and swaying, you cannot help but bite on your lip and stare indulgently up at Jay as he sings about what a good girl you are.
âHow would I tell her that sheâs all I think about?â Jay sings, looking at you. âWell, I guess she just found out.â
When Jay first told you about his dream, a pang of horror punched you in the gut. Fearing that your fate would be like that of girls everywhere, that he would be your tropey boyfriend, your canon event: the privileged, untalented SoundCloud rapper, or indie artist. All you could do was nod your head and smile stiffly as he told you how much he loved his guitar and writing music. It was to your great relief that Jay wasnât just good, he was great. Youâre certain thatâs why, now, as you watch him sing about your relationship for hundreds of adoring fans, there is a flicker of admiration, of awe, right alongside your annoyance.
âShe feels so good,â he sings over and over, with his eyes shut. A vein presses against his forehead. His neck.
With that, and a rapturous combination of applause and screaming, NAPE give a bow and leave the stage. They do not do an encore, though a good number of stragglers wait behind for one, while Aeri drags you and all of your friends through a door marked with restricted access. The corridor lights come on one by one as you walk further and further towards another door that she doesnât hesitate to push open. All of the members are startled by your sudden entrance, but relax quickly at the sight of her.
âBaby!â Heeseung calls out, embracing Aeri, while you and everyone else stands around by the door.
Besides her, youâre the only other person who has met all of these people, and so, youâre tasked with introductions. Jaehyun greets everyone but Jay who stands there looking at him with a straight face. Thankfully, everyone is too caught up with Somiâs huge reactions and extra enthusiasm towards Sunghoon to pay anyone else any mind. He eats it right up, nodding at all the right moments and tucking blonde curls behind her ear while she speaks. Yizhuo, whose big plans for Jake Sim involved taking him to pound town, stands in the corner and stares at him from a distance while he drinks his water.
After filing out of the back exit, you quickly learn that trying to coordinate ten drunk people to use the Tube on a Friday night is more than a bit hellish. But somehow, you manage, with your arm looped through Jaehyunâs the whole way. Jay doesnât take his eyes off of you, even as he and Sunghoon are tasked with keeping all six feet of Riki vertical.
What Aeri refers to as The NAPE House whenever sheâs visiting Heeseung, is a four bedroom penthouse apartment that could surely hold more people than the pub they just performed at. There are people everywhere, influencers and other niche celebrities, drinking and laughing and grinding on each other. Not a phone in sightâonly vlogging cameras. And on the black leather living room couch, you have a front row seat. A comfortable one you share with Heeseung and a sleeping Aeri.
âCan you do me a favour?â He lolls his head in your direction, yelling. âWill you get my hoodie from my bed?â
You make a show of rolling your eyes. âYou owe me. Whereâs your room?â
âAlways.â Heeseung smiles. âItâs the last door in the hall, straight down.â
You weave through the crowd, throwing apologies over your shoulders and trying to remember exactly which hallway he was referring to. When you get there, his door is slightly ajar, a dim glow coming from the room right at the end of the hall like he said. The sight of the bed alone, dark sheets pulled tight and waiting, is enough to make you sleepy, a nagging exhaustion you only feel now. Noticeably missing though, is his hoodie, but itâs hardly an urgent matter. Surely not. Blinking heavily, the duvet calls for you, the corn on the cob plushie begging you to hold itâa weird choice for Heeseung, but maybe Jay got it for him.
Since youâre doing him a favour â and he uses your couch more than you â you figure thereâs nothing wrong with resting your eyes on the end of his bed. It would be foolish not to seize this moment now that you have it. Carpe⊠moment. Closing the door behind you, you find a key in the lock, and if that isnât a sign, you donât know what is. With the door locked, you pass the guitar rack on the way to the bed, and make yourself comfortable, facing the ceiling. Sooner than you expect, your eyes flutter shut, honey musk tickling your nose.
A soft voice wakes you up. âHey.â
You donât need to see Jay Park to know itâs him. If not for the American shape of the word leaving his mouth, the fresh scent of his shower gel gives him away. How annoying, knowing someone. When you open your eyes, heâs leaning over you with a smile on his face, very close. Close enough to see that his hair is damp. To see the light from outside reflecting on the droplets that cover the solid muscle over his shoulders. The scar on the bridge of his nose.
A drop of water falls from his hair, hitting your chestâyou swear you hear it sizzle. âWhat are you doing in here?â The words come out before you have a chance to think of something less accusatory to say. Hey, might have been a good place to start. You shoo him away with your hand, sitting up and facing him, ignoring the heat in your stomach. The butterflies. Itâs a mistake to look at him properly, to see all of him. His white vest is vacuum sealed over his defined torso, cinching where his waist does. With his hair flat over his forehead, he looks so young again. Looks like himself. Looks like heâs yours. Like any second, heâs going to pull you into him and press his mouth into the crook of your neck, to say, Iâve missed you, gorgeous. You can feel it already, the shape of his phantom words against your skin, the hum of them from his chest. Jesus Christ. Why couldnât you be one of those very strong women whoâd fallen for an ugly man? How was it fair that Jay could break your heart and only get better looking?
âShouldnât I be asking you that?â
âIâm allowed to lie on Heeseungâs bed. Heâs my friend.â With that, itâs all you do to hope Jay doesnât pass this on, you calling Heeseung your friend.
Jay eyes you, wetting his lips. His attention, having all of it, warms your skin. âIâm sure you are, YN. But this is my bed, so if I let you lay on it⊠what does that make me?â His eyes narrow, just a little. Just enough. Thereâs something behind them, a challenge to match his low voice.
Everything in your life feels so different now. You have new friends, a new address, different interests and opinions, but still, a very agitating part of you is moved by Jongseong. Charmed. âI think that would still make you my evil ex-boyfriend,â you say, more as a reminder to yourself than anything else. A mental marking of the words, do not open, on the overflowing can of worms with Jayâs name on itâa solution about as effective as sellotape around a broken bone.
He pulls air through his teeth, nodding. âFair assessment.â
Itâs been long enough that the vague dim shapes of his bedroom have sharpened into some form of clarity. The names and faces on the posters visible now: Oasis, Bon Jovi, Destinyâs Child. His desk is completely free of clutter, only housing a huge monitor, a notebook, a mouse and a keyboard. It seems in your absence, heâs gotten a grip on keeping tidy. Mounted on the wall above the guitar rack is the plastic guitar that came with the old copy of Guitar Hero you bought for him. Your heart twists in your chest.
âSo this is your room,â you announce. And just like that, the pieces of Heeseungâs drunken puzzle slot into place before your very eyesâhe was already wearing his hoodie.
Jay hums, a smile tugging his mouth up at the corners. âYou like it?â
âYeah, I do. I mean, Iâve spent so long wondering what your life is like here. Where you hang out with your friends, if you still smoke. Iâve been really keen to find out your life is terrible.â You have no idea why youâre saying these things, but itâs difficult to stop now that youâve started. âSeeing it though, seeing you on stage, seeing you at all. Iâm really glad it isnât, Jay.â
The crowd screaming his name. Singing along to lyrics he wrote. Of course he had to come here. There is no universe where Jay staying in Edinburgh, staying with you, was the right decision. All of those versions of reality play out in your head, split like a kaleidoscopeâyou are happy, Jay is not, there is more for him than you or Edinburgh can offer, and he resents you for that. Even if his method wasnât ideal, he did the right thing by leaving, and the realisation forces a lump in your throat.
He mumbles your name, running his hand through his hair. The water makes it stay put like gel, pushed off his forehead, and his eyebrow piercing shimmers. âI didnât even know you stayed here.â
âIt was none of your business.â
âNo, I⊠Yeah, youâre right, it wasnât.â Jay looks like he has a billion things on his mind, you can practically hear the gears grinding against one another. âIâve been wanting to see you is all. Catch up.â
A laugh bursts out of you, dry and bitter, as you stand up from the bed. âTo catch up,â you repeat. âWhat, so you could tell me all about your perfect life in perfect London? So you could thank me for inspiring your discography?â
Jayâs jaw ticks when he clicks his tongue. âDo you think so low of me?â
âHard not to.â
This seems to genuinely hurt him and some part of you takes delight in that fact. His face drops right away, a sad glimmer in his big eyes as he steps towards you. âI just wanted to make sure you were doing okayâmore than.â
âIâm great, Jay.â You donât bother wiping the first tear from your eye, but as soon as it falls, the floodgates open and thereâs nothing you can do to close them. You can hardly see anything anymore, a fuzzy blob replaces Jay where he stands in front of you. âI just let go from a job I really loved and now Iâm crying in my ex-boyfriendâs bedroom. Clearly, IâmâŠâ Getting the words out is an effort so you stop, letting the sentence die around the block in your throat.
When you take your hands away from your leaking eyes, the heels of your palms are black with mascara and eyeliner, and Jay says nothing. Heâs sitting on the end of the bed, hiding his face with his hands. In your head, a tiny drunk voice wills fervently for him to take you in his massive arms and pat your back. To rest his chin on the top of your head and tell you that itâs all going to be okay. That itâs all going to be good. You hate yourself for wanting that. For wanting him.
Instead, Jay looks up at you with wet eyes. âI really am sorry. It wasnât meant to happen like that, I swear. I had everything planned out and I just⊠I donât know.â
âAfter all this time, youâre telling me you donât know why you did that to me?â
âItâs not as simple as that.â
âElaborate then.â
âBefore I met you, all I did was keep to myself, study, and think about coming back to London. That was it, okay. Being in a relationship was the absolute last thing I wanted back then anââ
You scoff, cutting him off. âGood to know.â
âThatâs not what I⊠I was sure about you, YN. From the start, I was sure about you.â The rest of what comes out of his mouth is secondary, background noise to this.
You feel those words, in your bones, with every single fibre of your being. Recognise them. Because itâs exactly how you felt. There wasnât a single part of you that would have believed or accepted anything other than the fact that he was the one. Your oneâright from the day you met, you knew you wanted him.
Jay sighs, the sag of his broad shoulders catching your attention. âBut I couldnât ask you to do long distance, it wouldnât have been fair.â
âFair?â you repeat, hardly believing your ears. âYou think disappearing was fair?â
âI thought I was doing the right thing, that it would be easier for both of us that way.â
The thought of hearing him say anything else to defend himself turns your stomach. Worse is the fact that you actually want to hear him out, pick his brain on it. Ask all the questions you never had the chance to. Try to make sense of the mess and sort it all out. Sort yourself out, finally. You just need a minute. Need a minute to get your head on straight, and thatâll be impossible with Jay watching you the way he is, his glossy eyes boring into yours. You fling open the door to his ensuite and shut it behind you before he has the chance to keep speaking.
Heat from the shower hits you immediately, condensation lingering in the corners of the mirror. Itâs a beautiful bathroom, glossy white and matte black fixings, a deep sink basin with lots of counter space and a roomy shower. His hand wash and lotion are perfectly lined up by the tap, his watch and some rings placed neatly in front of them as if he wanted to take up as little space as possible. Despite how much makeup stains your palms, your eyes donât look as horrific as you thought they would, itâs the swelling and redness that makes you look awful. His Le Labo soap smells warm and green, lathering nicely over your fingers when you finally spot something amiss. A blister pack sits between the tap and the wall, all of the tiny white pills gone bar one. Sertraline, reads the foil over the front when you pick it up, and for the second time since you and Jay have come across each other again, you throw up in his vicinity, vomiting into the sink.
The lone tablet clatters to the floor at your feet.
âAre you okay?â Jay asks. The door does nothing to muffle his concern.
How could you possibly answer that? Iâm grand! Only gone and found your antidepressants HAHAHA. His antidepressants. Just thinking the word in relation to Jay is enough to make you wretch again. Nothing comes out.
âMay I come in?â To your silence, he continues, escalating from polite question to concerned statement. âIâm coming in, okay?â
While you fight for breath over the sink, Jay counts loudly from one to five before the door clicks open behind you. In the mirror, you see his eyes drift to the floor and widen. He picks up the blister pack and puts it in his pocket, aiming for subtle but being more overt than youâve ever seen. âI saw it, Jay,â you say. âI know.â
He nods slowly like heâs coming to terms with whatâs happened. As if heâs the one finding out about his diagnosis. âItâs uh⊠Iâm okay,â he offers weakly, though his reassurance only makes you feel worse.
Your palms itch against the counter, desperate to grab him by the shoulders and shake him. To yell in his face that he doesnât have to act like heâs alright with everything all the time. Finally, youâve found something about Jay that hasnât changed. What a shame it had to be this. âYouâre okay,â you repeat, speaking the words more like an affirmation than anything else.
âIâm seeing someone about it and I have good people around me. Iâm okay.â
A chill runs over your spine, pulls the hairs on your arms straight up, at the way he says it. This, for Jay, is simply a part of life now, as ordinary and boring as brushing his teeth before bed or tying his shoelaces before he leaves the house. You brace against the sink, screwing your eyes shut again. Nothing changes when you open them, youâre still in Jayâs bathroom and he is still depressed.
âHow long?â you ask, as if his answer will make a difference.
He looks away when your gaze meets his in the mirror and shrugs, his shoulders rising and falling in a stiff motion. You donât press him on it. Whether itâs been one year or one day, the point is that heâs unwell. And the gaping chasm between his life and yours is big enough that you had no idea. God, youâve been so selfish.
Neither of you says anything else, but itâs not until thereâs a thump at his bedroom door and a muffled apology called out through it that you realise. Both of you let out the exact same laugh, a huffed breath from your noses, which only makes the pair of you laugh properly when your eyes meet. The crinkle of his eyes is still a delight, still heats you up from the inside out.
More than anything, you are desperate for this silence to end, desperate to be saying something, making conversation. âSo,â you start, clearing your throat. âAbout this family of mine in Carolina.â
Jayâs cheeks pinken, a sweet, rosy tinge blooming against his skin. âThat was just something I thought sounded good.â He was right, unfortunately, it did sound good.
This fact, however, does nothing to stop the harsh pull of embarrassment in your stomach. âI was being presumptuous, sorry.â
âNo, it was⊠that song is definitely about you,â Jay admits, for better or for worse. âThey all are, when I write anyway.â
Jesus. You still had an entire discography to listen to, all based around the worst event of your life so far. Such is the plight of dating an artist, you suppose. In the midst of your irritation with him over that, and sick pleasure at knowing your relationship â you â had impacted him as much as it â he â had you, was a flare of curiosity. All of his unknowable thoughts, the things you wished he said, existed only a mere couple of clicks away. You could listen to them all right now, read the lyrics. Given the dedication of NAPEâs fanbase, you were certain multiple Twitter threads had been posted with line-by-line analysis.
âGreat!â you say, cheeks aching with the stretch of your lips as you give him a thumbs-up. âThanks, champ.â
His laugh is warm, filling the space between you. âI wrote it thinking about yourâŠâ Jay scratches at the back of his neck, cheeks growing pinker by the second. The colour spreads down his neck and over his chest. âYou used to talk about riding camp, when you were younger. That pretty chestnut horse you rode as a kid.â
âCarolina,â you supply uselessly, the name hardly audible over the thud of your pulse in your ears.
âThe one and only.â
You gulp. âAnd here I thought I was well behaved.â
âThere was that too, of course there was.â Heâs smiling, but you canât bring yourself to do the same.
Youâre not even sure if Aeri knows you went to riding camp. âI canât believe you remembered that.â Some twisted part of you wonders what else he remembers, what other Easter eggs heâd left behind for you. For everyone.
He seems bewildered by this, his brows furrowing, head tilting. âWho could forget anything about you?â Each word is as sincere as the last, breeding a fascinating and surely singular type of hurt deep in the pit of your stomach.
âYou know, I donât usually throw up so often,â you blurt out, turning to the mess you left in the basin and flicking the tap on.
His reflection smiles in the mirror, leaning against the door frame. âAm I that bad?â
âYouâre so much worse.â
âFour words every depressed person wants to hear.â Heâs still smiling, his posture relaxed, slanted, but itâs the look in his eyes that gives him away, breaks your heart. How glossy theyâve become in the light.
âYouâre really okay?â
Jay nods. âIâm okay.â
Every part of you aches to believe him, willing with every fibre of your being that heâs telling the truth. Okay isnât good, but itâs a start, and soon heâll be more than that. He has to be. Without a second thought you wrap your arms around him, feeling his warmth as he hugs you back. âI know I canât take back or change what I did, but I really am sorry,â he mumbles into your shoulder.
And all of a sudden, itâs too much. His soft lips on your skin, the vibration into the crook of your neck. The familiar squeeze of his strong arms around you, his faint honeyed scent. The fact that despite everything, despite the frenzied red flags waving in your brain, you want to believe him. You do believe him.
You pull away, quickly, and take a huge step back, hitting your hip against the sink. âDo you have a spare toothbrush?â
Jay watches you for a moment, his eyes catching on each of your features like heâs seeing you for the first time. He clears his throat, scrunching his nose with a sniffle before speaking. âI might have a spare head for my electric somewhere.â
âGreat,â you say, while he opens the cabinet with pursed lips. âThanks.â
Those lips. You feel them while you brush your teeth alone in his bathroom, and while Jaehyun walks you home. While you shower, and while you collapse into bed. I really am sorry. God. How much easier this all would be if his belated apology fixed all of this.
jongseong đœ: Thank you for coming to the show, it really meant a lot to me having you there
you: No prob đ
Under your face, your pillow muffles a would-be bloodcurling scream. âNo prob, thumbs-up emojiâŠ?â you repeat into the fabric, affronted by your word choice.
you: Just texted âno probâ unironically
minjeong: To who đ
you: Rhymes with Jark Pongseong
minjeong: You should have said YES prob or ALL prob in fact you shouldnât even have responded to whatever that freak loser (VERY DEROGATORY) said to my sweet angel girl
you: It was kind of sweet tbf, he thanked me for going to the gig and then said it meant a lot to him
Minjeong calls you immediately. You answer but canât say anything for the genuine wave of fear that crashes over you. Through the phone you hear the click of her heels against the pavement, rumble of traffic, roaring engines and beeping horns, the soundtrack to the functioning womanâs afternoon. âYou are the lostest cause of them all,â she says. âI thought you were over this insane person.â
âI am over him. I am also allowed to think he is very good looking and incredible onstage.â
âShut up!â Minjeong sighs. âAlso, did you take my coat when you stayed? The wool one?â
âI wish.â
âIâm hanging up now.â Three beeps follow her words, and her black wool coat stares at you from the open wardrobe.
The room spins around you when you sit up from bed. You can feel your brain swooshing around in your skull. Waking up hungover in last nightâs makeup and outfit is never a treat, especially not when last nightâs makeup is coming off of your face in crumbs every time you blink, and the outfit is a tank top and Aeriâs sequin microshorts. Somehow you make it to the kitchen where you sway by the counter and make a cup of black coffee, flinching at the sound of Aeriâs key twisting in the lock.
âUgh, the show was perfect, YJ! It really sucks you couldnât make it, but I know theyâve got some other gigs coming around the city so Iâll text you deets, alright?â she says. âI dropped my film off after yoga this morning, but I was so drunk last night⊠not hopeful.â Her voice gets louder in the hallway, an ear-splitting squeal sounding through the flat as she approaches and blows a kiss down the phone before appearing in the doorway. âHey, you!â The grin on her face is wide and shows all of her teeth.
âHey,â you say, itâs the only thing you can muster as you watch her lean in the doorframe, decked out in a matching brown workout set that ALO sent her in PR.
Her eyebrows give a suggestive wag as she says in a singsong voice, âGuess who I had breakfast with?â
The full scope of Aeriâs circle is still unclear to you, so the answer could be anyone. Playing it safe, you simply ask, âWho?â
âYour boyfriend! Almost boyfriend.â
âAnd that would beâŠâ
âDonât be coy, YN. Jay told me all about last night.â
âJay?â Itâs a wonder that your eyes donât fall from their socketsâit wouldâve shocked you less if sheâd suggested that Byeon Wooseok was your boyfriend.
âI wanted to put in a good word for you, but he already wants you bad. Never seen anything like that, he asked a million questions about you. If I didnât have to get home to shoot Iâd still be there telling him about your commute.â
âHe doesnât. At all.â You clench your fists behind your back, denting half-moons into your palms with your fingernails. âWe dated for a few years at uni, but heâŠâ The sting isnât enough to distract you from the swoop in your stomach, so you settle instead for clawing at the back of your hand. âHe had to move back home and we agreed it would be better to end things.â No matter how many times you say it, it doesnât get any easier.
Aeriâs face flickers through the full spectrum of human emotion, never quite settling on one.
âI know I should have said something earlier, itâs justâŠâ Embarrassing. Itâs embarrassing that not only can Jay live without you, he can thrive. Meanwhile, you canât even secure a job interview. âI donât know.â
Finally, she pulls you into a hug, all citrus and sweat, and you sink into her arms. âI have two pieces of good news and one piece of bad news. What do you want first?â she asks, pulling away just enough to look at you.
Clearing your throat, you ask, âCan you do good news, bad news, good news? Like a sandwich?â
Aeri leans against the island opposite you, smiling. âOkay, good news: you donât owe me, or anyone else, every last detail about your life, and given the whole me dating your ex-boyfriendâs best friend thing, I get why you kept that from me, alright? You donât need to apologise for that. The bad news is that said ex-boyfriend is definitely still in love with you, but â and this is the next good part â you guys broke up because he didnât think he could have London and you, right?â
Put simply, âYes.â
âYouâre in London now, youâre both singleâŠâ Aeri lets her eyes and hands spell out the rest of her sentence.
âJay doesnât⊠Itâs not like that.â
âOkay,â she says, though you can tell she doesnât buy it. âWhat about you? Do you still want him?â
What you really want, more than anything, is to feel secure. To feel like the people in your life wonât just up and leave at any given moment. You want to be with someone you can rely on, someone dependable. A person you can call and know theyâll answerâor at least call you back. Youâre not sure if that person is Jay.
âI donât know,â you admit.
âYou donât need to know that right now. What you need is to sit down,â Aeri says, guiding you by the shoulders to one of the stools under the island. âWatching you sway like that is giving me a hangover by association. Iâll make you something to eat.â
She makes you a cup of herbal tea and some fruit topped French toast with bacon. You inhale it before she shoos you out of the kitchen. âYou need to sleep this shit off, okay? We need to leave at eight tomorrow morning.â
Fuck. Sheâd agreed to let you tag along on her work day tomorrow so youâd finally have something interesting to post on Substack. You didnât realise that would involve facing the public so early in the day. âOf course!â
yizhuo: dear sweetcheeks bubblegum fairy woman consider this our final correspondence as iâm literally about to die idk who the fuck was sick near me but they got me brother stay safe also tell that fuckface riki he can stop praying on my downfall ok it worked.
you: iâll pass that message along for you⊠get well soon angel pie dream lady :( do u need me to bring anything by for you?
yizhuo: jiminâs playing sexy nurse this weekend dw iâm right wehre i wanna be đ€€đ€€đ€€đ€€đ€€đ€€đ€€đ€€đ€€đ€€đ€€đ€€đ€€ in other more relevant news, interview is opening another officeâŠâŠ.good day for the unemployed, look how many openings there are !!!
Her next message has fifteen links, and those are just the jobs youâre qualified for. These must be the millions of doors Somi was talking about. In a full-bellied haze, you write a new cover letter and apply to every last one of them. After that, with renewed pep in your hungover step, you climb back into bed and watch as many episodes of Pretty Little Liars as you can handle without breaking the screen in half at the sight of Mr. Fitz and his minor-student-girlfriend Aria. Itâs two. You manage two episodes and sleep for the rest of the day.
At eight in the morning, when Aeri is ready to leave, you have, unfortunately, reached the end of your life. And as it turns out, Jenniferâs Body had it all wrong, hell is not a teenage girl. If only. Hell, youâre learning, is whatever strain of the common cold is currently nerfing your immune system.
Shivering under your duvet, you scroll through the pictures you took after the gig, smiling, laughing, completely oblivious to the fact that those would be some of your last moments on this mortal plane. Probably youâll never, ever drink again. Never do anything again. Your throat is swollen. Raw and painful when you swallow. A dull ache reaches all of your joints, weighing them down. Swallowing ibuprofen is a tear-inducing, Herculean task, but you manage, and finally, sleep comes over you.
For the next few hours, you fade in and out of slumber until you quit trying. Your throat still hurts, but the swelling is down. When you blow your nose into your last tissue, your ears pop and the thumping in your head is actually at the front door. The Grim Reaper here to⊠well, reap, you suppose. He even knows your name and yells it incessantly like some sort of evil, murderous baby whoâs just learned a new word. Gun! Knife! YN! Itâs only after your fourth, weak, attempt at calling out for Aeri that you remember sheâs not home, and quickly resign to your fate, dragging yourself out of bed and then all the way to the door. Against the wall you catch your breath before pulling it open.
âIâm not here to botherââ Jay stops short.
âJay?â He is hazy and beautiful in front of you. His sunglasses hold his hair away from his face, and none of the three buttons on his black polo shirt are done up, exposing just enough of his collarbone and chest to make your cheeks heat up. He is the cruel mirage of an oasis in the desert. âJay,â you say again, reaching out your aching arm to touch him.
Against your fingertip, he is completely solid and real, which is more than a little mortifying. He looks down to where your hand touches his chest, where your hand is still, for some reason, touching his chest. He grabs your wrist, his touch soft but scorching through your long sleeve, and puts your arm back down at your side carefully. âYouâre sick.â
âA little.â
âOkay,â he says slowly, wearing his thinking face. Head tilted, tongue poking out between his soft pink lips, the same way he would when he was trying to calculate how long it might take your food delivery to reach your place, and if there was enough time for the two of you to share the shower first. âI just need to get Heeseungâs computer and then Iâll be out of your hair. You need to put on something warm.â
You step aside to let Jay into the flat and he goes straight to Aeriâs room, coming back with a laptop tucked under his arm. He inspects you from head to toe and frowns. âDrink some tea, okay? Lemon and ginger with lots of honey.â Itâs the last thing he says before he disappears.
Heeding Doctor Jayâs advice, you use the last sliver of your energy to hobble into the kitchen so you can make yourself a cup of lemon and ginger tea with lots of honey. Equipped with a steaming mug, you go back to your room where you pull a jumper on and stuff yourself into your dressing gown, before crawling back into bed. As soon as your head hits the pillow, you fall asleep, lemon and ginger tea with lots of honey cooling down on your nightstand, untouched.
Itâs Jayâs gentle voice that rouses you out of your thick sleep, saying your name over and over until your eyes open. âHey,â he says, his palm massive on your arm. His glasses slip down the straight bridge of his nose but he doesnât push them up. âAeri gave me her keys and Iââ
âAeriâs at work,â you say, correcting him.
He smiles. âYeah, I just saw her.â
âSheâs on the other end of the city.â
âSo hereâs the cool thing about London â and you might not know this â but we have this thing called the Tube and it got me there and back.â
âBut itâs so⊠itâs like an hour one way.â
Jay waves a dismissive hand, his smile unwavering. âForty-five minutes.â
The words heâs saying are all words youâve come across. Words for which you know the dictionary definition and spelling, but itâs taking a lot for your brain to make sense of them and their implications in these particular sequences, coming from him. Fuzzy-headed, you lie back down, sinking into the pillow and screwing your eyes shut.
âYou okay?â When you open your eyes, heâs watching you with an arched brow, inspecting you like you are fungi on a petri dish and not his dying ex-girlfriend.
âThe common cold doesnât normally kill people, right?â
Instead of laughing or being charmed by these, your final words, he tilts his head. âWell, it can lead to more severe forms of sickness like pneumonia or sepsis, which could, quite easily, kill you, yes,â he says, delivering the information to you in a tone that suggests he was reading about this on the way over.
This had been one of your favourite things about Jay, his insatiable curiosity and willingness to share what heâd learned with whoever was around. He could talk about any subject for hours and you were always keen to listen. It got to the point that you would direct your queries to him instead of the Google search bar, just for a reason to text him. Hey Jay, is thirty minutes too long to cook a steak? Way too long??? Iâm coming over. Hey Jay, whatâs the name of that Bon Jovi song you played for me? Hi beautiful, itâs called Always :). Hi baby, would you still love me if I was a worm? Iâm always going to love you, YN. No matter what.
âGreat, Jay. Thanks.â You lean up on your elbows, coughing with your mouth open like a child. âStill a fount of knowledge, I see.â
Bright red blooms over his cheeks and neck. âAs always,â he says, though he doesnât seem happy about this fact, scrunching his nose. âI⊠uh⊠I made you some soup.â
âYour mumâs dakgaejang?â you whisper. To his sheepish smile, you mumble, âThat shit could cure anything.â
âIt always did,â Jay agrees, lifting the steaming bowl from your desk. He gasps at something, putting the bowl back down and holding up a magazine for you to look at. The magazine, with him and the rest of NAPE on the cover. âWow, I had no idea you liked us this much,â he says, flipping through the pages to find the article.
It hurts to roll your eyes, but you do it anyway. âDonât flatter yourself, Park. I bought it because it was my first printed write-up.â And last, you do not add.
The lump in your throat is immediate and all-consuming. Seeing the magazine was a real shock, knowing that â though uncredited â you had left a mark on the world, no matter how small. And that thousands of NAPE fans around the country, and in all nations that print Daydream Mag, had you to thank for transcribing the interview. It wasnât much, but it was yours. Jayâs eyes turn glassy and his gaze falls to the pages once more, running his finger over the words, your words. The thud of your heart in your ears pads the silence. You wonder if heâs thinking what you were, that youâve both made it. Both of your dreams unspooling before your very eyes, and somehow, after all these years, your paths found a way to cross again. In print, no less.
At least, thatâs how it felt before you lost your job.
âWow,â Jay whispers. âThis is really special, YN. Youâre amazing.â
The article wasnât much to write home about. And sure, when you found out, some of your work friends treated you to drinks that evening, and got a celebratory cake made. And yes, you called your mum in happy tears from the office toilet. But seeing Jay make a fuss over it on your behalf is nothing short of humiliating. Your cheeks burn at the sightâa chart-topping artist praising the ex-girlfriend he ghosted over some paragraphs no one else knew she wrote.
God, what a joke.
âYouâre the one who said all the words, and the guys.â You fiddle with the loose thread at the top of your duvet cover. âAll I did was read some notes, watch a recording and type it all up.â
He shakes his head and in a blink, heâs crouching by the side of your bed, looking up at you with huge eyes. âThat was our first big feature, my mum cut out the parts about me and stuck them to the fridge. Heeseungâs parents got it blown up and framed for the living room.â
âAnybody couldâve written it.â
âI know, but âanybodyâ didnât write it.â Jayâs eyes search yours, like heâs begging you to see where heâs coming from, that he means it. âYou did.â
Itâs only when you cough, a harsh rattle in your throat, that he seems to remember himself, remember the situation and the dakgaejang on your desk. Without a word, he helps you sit up in bed, propping your pillow up before bringing the soup over on a tray. Steam curls up from the bowl, heating your face, and the first spoonful is rich and spicy and perfect. Tender shredded chicken and soft vegetables. A long, contended hum rumbles out of you. âHoly shit,â you murmur, already feeling your blocked nostrils starting to open up. It tastes more like a memory than anything else. Like Jayâs broad shoulders in the kitchen, standing over your stove. His hoodie over your shoulders and the soft hum of the washing machine as you watched him cook. Like cuddling on the couch with a stranger and asking him to stay. Whether it was period-induced sensitivity or that food really was the quickest way to someoneâs heart, you fell for him that night.
Jay gives a firm nod. âAlright, I know Iâm not exactly who youâd want to spend your time with, so is there someone I could call to look after you? At least until Aeri gets off work?â
Hearing it from him, the reminder that he has a life and things to worry about that no longer include you stings the backs of your eyes. Another cold symptom, probably. You take another glorious spoonful of rice and soup, chewing slowly.
âIâll call Riki when my phoneâs back on.â
As if on cue, your phone starts to life, a black and white film strip of you and Aeri staring up at you from the lockscreen. Jay chews his lip, watching you with his hands on his hips, clearly eager to leave, and, to his luck, Riki answers on the first ring. âYo, YN. What you saying?â he asks, delighted as the music in the background comes to a stop.
âAre you busy?â
âNot really â ow â okay, yeah, Iâm kind of busy. Whatâs good, though? You alright?â
Your cuticles sting where your thumb bothers them, picking at the raw skin unthinkingly. Terrified of admitting to Riki that you need him, you say, âYeah, no, Iâm fine. Talk later, yeah?â
âSafe,â he says and cuts the phone.
Jay raises a brow. âItâs okay to ask for help when you need it. You know that, right?â
âI know,â you say, trying to convince yourself. âIâll call Somi then Jaehyun.â
âNo!â he blurts out, covering his mouth with his palm as if he can push the words back in. âI mean, you donât need to bother him when Iâm here, I could stay. If you want me to stay, I can stay.â
Thereâs no time to overthink his reaction, nor is there time to overthink the flutter in your chest at the sight of it, because as soon as heâs done speaking, youâre already saying, âYou can stay.â
He only nods and stays there, standing over you. He is very still. It doesnât even look like heâs breathing. Or blinking. Unless heâs blinking at the exact same time you are.
âYou can also sit on the bed if you want,â you offer.
He gestures vaguely towards his body. âThese are my outside clothes.â
You could have laughed at that, the idea that maybe his smart trousers and the Ralph Lauren polo shirt tucked into them were his casual inside clothes. Unfortunately, because he is Jay, and you are you, youâre too busy being struck by his remembering such a mundane detail to joke around. A silly thing youâve since grown out of worrying about. You point him towards the drying rack in the living room where Heeseung had left some laundry. Youâre not sick enough to tell Jay he can change in front of you, but you are sick enough to picture it as he closes your door behind him.
Sick enough to picture the smooth expanse of his back, muscles flexing while he pulls his T-shirt over his head. The cinch of his waist, the unfairly round curve of his ass, his Calvin Klein boxer briefs clinging to him like a second skin. His toned arms and thighs. It only takes a second for him to come back, fully dressed, in Heeseungâs grey sweatpants and white Henley that hugs his biceps. You open your mouth to say something casual like, I wasnât picturing you naked, or you look nice in clothes, but he uses the bottom of his shirt to clean off his glasses and the sight winds you. Dark ink sticks out of his waistband, round edges touching his waist.
âYouâŠâ The sentence dies on its way out, your finger shaking as you point at him. âWhen did you get that?â
âGet whaâOh.â He looks down at his side, the tips of his ears burning pink. âTwo years ago? Last year? I donât really remember.â Putting his glasses back on, he lifts the left side of his shirt properly, tugging at his waistband too. Only a little, only enough to make your heart race and show the word, nape, written in huge swirling cursive. âHurt so bad, but itâs pretty, right?â
Pretty sexy, more like. âYeah. Pretty,â you agree, willing for him to stop showing off his skin before you do something unwise.
âI actually have a couple now.â
The rest of Jayâs tattoos, all one of them, are very tiny and very himâa treble clef behind his right ear. He blushes when you tell him you like it, giving a sheepish smile as he gets under the covers beside you, careful not to knock your bowl over.
âYouâre not scared of getting sick?â
âNah.â Jay shakes his head. âIâm sure youâll take good care of me if I do.â
âWhatever,â you mumble, focusing on your dakgaejang instead of your blushing cheeks.
When you finish eating you take a nap, eventually waking to the long set sun and Jay bringing over a cup of tea and some paracetamol. He crouches by your side and feels your forehead with the back of his hand. âHowâre you feeling, sleepyhead?â
âIs Aeri home?â
âShe texted saying she was going to crash at ours. With Heeseung.â
âDo you think you could stay over?â you ask slowly.
Jay tilts his head, eyebrows meeting in the middle. Heâs as taken aback by your request as you are. For a long while, he simply stares up at you, like heâs waiting for you to take it back. You donât. And so, finally, he nods and says, âI can stay over. Absolutely, I can stay over.â
After a surprisingly restful night of sleep, your second day with the cold begins with your head on Jayâs chest and your leg around him. Neither of you says anything about that.
For breakfast, he makes toast soldiers and beans, and you canât contain your excitement, even though it hurts your throat to speak. âThis was, like, the only breakfast I ate when I was little,â you gush, taking a picture to show your mum. âEspecially when I was sick. This is perfect, Jay. Thank you.â
From the other side of the table, he watches you dunk a strip of buttered toast into your dippy egg with a smile on his face. âI know, YN. Iâm just glad you still like it.â
You sniff, ignoring the heat rushing to your cheeks and neckâYizhuo was right, this cold is no joke. Rubbing your hands together, you let crumbs fall to your plate and pull your dressing gown tighter around yourself, redoing the belt.
Back in bed, you warm your hands against a cup of tea while Jay opens your laptop. He insists there is a YouTube video you must see, but when he opens the site, the very first video is NAPE Swap Favourite Snacks | Snacked, uploaded fifteen minutes ago. Great. As it turns out, you had it all wrong, hell is not the common cold. Hell, youâre learning, is whatever the fuck is happening to you right now. This cannot be real life. All you did was watch that stupid video of them spotting each otherâs lies. And then the one where they played most likely to with Variety. And showed Glamour what was on their phones.
Every inch of your body burns. âI didnât put that there,â you blurt out. âShould we watch it ironically?â
A shudder racks through Jay and he scowls. âI kind of do not like to⊠look at myself. At all. So, no. Thanks though.â
Nothing about his tone or demeanour suggest that heâs joking. The thought that someone so beautiful, that Jay, could feel that way seems senseless. âIf I had that faceâŠâ
âYouâd what?â His straight teeth dent his bottom lip, curious eyes roving your face. Whatever insecurities plagued him a second ago are long forgotten now apparently. To your silence, he says, âIâm glad you donât have my face, I really like yours.â
When this is all said and done, youâll have to see a doctor about whatever part of the cold is making your heart race like this. âJust show me the video,â you mumble.
âYes, maâam.â
What if forks were made of salt? is eight minutes and twenty-four seconds of some white guy asking and answering what you now feel is an essential question. What if forks were made of salt? Would every bite of steak be perfect? Glossing over the mild existentialism at the end, the video is uplifting, awe-inspiring.
So much so that you and Jay discuss it for an hour before he says, âI bought one.â
Your jaw drops. âNo way.â
âYeah way! Iâll let you try it ouââ Jayâs ringing phone cuts him off and steals the smile from his lips. âFuck,â he mutters, wiping his face with his palm. âSorry. Iâve been ducking our managerâs calls, kind of, so I have to take this.â
Nosiness gets the better of you. âPut it on speaker.â
Jay obliges, screwing his eyes shut like heâs bracing himself. Through the phone, his managerâs voice is soft, kind, when he launches straight into his spiel. âIâm trying to bear with you here. I get it, I swear, but if you donât have lyrics, can you just tell me that? Weâll figure it out, but you need to let me help you.â
Immediately, you regret asking Jay to put the phone on speaker, feeling your stomach drop.
He lets a quiet second pass before sighing. âI donât have lyrics, Sunoo.â At this, the groan that comes through the phone is never-ending. âYet,â he adds, rubbing his temples.
âI really did not want you to say that.â Sunoo sighs. âBut itâs okay. See, you told me the truth and nothing bad happened. Weâll work something out, okay. Just take it easy, talk to your bandmates, and answer your fucking phone when I call you.â
âGot it.â
Sunoo cuts the phone abruptly and Jay hides his face in his hands, ears burning red.
âArââ He utters your name, interrupting you. âYeah?â
âI donât really want to talk about this right now.â
You reach out for him, palm resting on his knee and giving it a squeeze. He rests his calloused palm over your hand, locking his fingers with yours. There goes your heart, racing again. And whatâs left of the day passes in half-awake snippets. The opening scene of The Matrix here, some spoonfuls of hot soup there, until you finally settle down for the night next to Jay. He falls asleep first, his strong arm around your shoulders holding you close. The thump of his heart is soothing as a lullaby. His chest rises and falls steadily with his slow breathing, in stark contrast to the shallow breaths youâre fighting for, until finally, you fall asleep too.
Hours later, a coughing fit wakes you up, skin damp with a cold sweat as you lean over your side of the bed. Itâs relentless, each wheezy hack aching a spot in the back of your skullâyour throat has never hurt so much in your life. Jay rushes out of the bed and comes back with a cup of water, rubbing circles on the wet fabric of your t-shirt with his palm while you try to catch your breath. When you manage to, you drink the water in gulps, finishing it quickly while he squints at the boxes on your nightstand before opening one of themâantiseptic throat spray. He pushes your hair away from your face, tucking it behind your ears and watching you with worry in his massive eyes. âCan you open up for me, baby?â he asks softly. When you do, he positions the nozzle between your lips and clears his throat. âItâs going to be a little uncomfortable, yeah?â
You nod, blinking with heavy eyelids. He sprays it three times and it takes a lot of work not to gag. A little uncomfortable might be the understatement of the century, but already the menthol is soothing your throat.
âThere you go,â he murmurs, taking the spray out of your mouth. âAtta girl.â His large palm rests on your cheek, his thumb wiping your tears.
At this, at all of it â him being here, doing this for you with no complaints â your stomach is in knots. You wrap your fingers around his wrist, keeping his hand in place. âWhy are you being so nice to me?â you croak.
In the lamplight, his eyes flicker over every part of your face before he sniffs. âLetâs try and get some sleep.â
âJongseongâŠâ His full name slips out of you, like youâre back in uni. Like youâre back togetherâstill together.
He says nothing, only closing the lid on the spray and helping you lie back down before joining you in bed. He doesnât say anything when you curl into his side or when he wraps his arms around you.
Then, right when you blink for the last time, you feel the rumble of his chest against your ear. He says, âYou make it so easy.â
Itâs another three days before you feel better and Jay spends all of them at your side. At the end of it all, though thereâs no reason for Jay to stay any longer, hugging him goodbye is bittersweet. But in all of your time apart, your phone doesnât get much rest from seeing his name on it. And you donât get sick of texting him back. Texting him first.
you: Weâre having a movie night on Friday!!! Heeseung is coming so I was wondering if you wanted to come along too? Also it would be nice to see you again if youâre not sick of seeing me
you: Or just sick in general⊠how are you feeling actually?
jongseong đœ: That sounds really nice!!! Iâd love to join you guys thank you for thinking of me â€ïž
jongseong đœ: Who could ever be sick of seeing you? If anything Iâm surprised youâre not sick of me
jongseong đœ: This is a serious emergency ik itâs 8am but please text back
jongseong đœ: HIIIII can u reply rn
jongseong đœ: Heeseung said you liked the choux vanilles from Toadâs so I picked some up for you even though you did NOT reply in my time of need. Are you home? Iâll leave these at your doorstep and get out your hair
you: THANK YOU THANKY OUU THANK YOU THANK YOU
you: You can come in! Iâm getting ready to meet Yizhuo for breakfast but maybe we can head out together?
jongseong đœ: Sounds goood!!!
jongseong đœ: It was really nice seeing you yesterday morning, even if it was only for a little bit. I didnât mean to make it weird and ik that doesnât make it any better but Iâm really sorry
you: Noooo!!! I swear you didnât make anything weird, I had a lot of fun with you and I wish we could have spent more time together!
When Heeseung arrives for movie night an hour early, he arrives aloneânot counting the two bottles of wine and three pints of ice cream he brought with him. âHey!â he says, smiling from ear to ear. âYou look well, Iâve heard awful things.â
You roll your eyes, taking his offerings and letting him in. âTrust me, it was much worse than whatever you heard.â
âFive days with Jay though, how was that?â he asks in a sing-song voice, following you into the kitchen. At this, your smile is immediate and very wide, so much so that he raises his brows, beaming too. âWow, that good, huh?â
You turn away, putting the wine in the fridge and the ice cream in the freezer, trying your best to look any less elated. âDid you ask him?â you ask, genuinely curious.
Heeseung shakes his head, sinking into one of your dining chairs at the table. He is quiet for long enough to make you wonder if youâd imagined that second night, what heâd said. You make it so easy. Five simple words that your mind has allowed to colour the rest of the week, and all of your conversations since, rosy. To think harder about how Jay cooked an endless supply of dakgaejang for you and Aeri, restocking your groceries afterwards. How you sat with your back to the bathtub while he washed your hair over the edge of it.
Five simple words that may have been nothing more than that.
Finally, Heeseung says, âI didnât have to ask, he was texting me nightly updates and gave me a full debrief when he got back.â
âWow,â you repeat. âThat good, huh?â
Shrugging off his jacket, he nods. âBetterââ He stops short at the sight of Aeri in the doorway. Sheâs in her pyjamas, scrunching her wet hair in an old T-shirt and holding her phone to her ear. A great big grin tugs his lips up at the corners, scrunches his eyes. âHey, baby,â he says, pulling her into his arms, splashes of pink hitting his white T-shirt when he leans down to peck her lips.
She seems just as delighted, holding the speaker against her chest as she looks at you to ask, âIs it you that hasnât tried that mussels from Lillyâs?â When you nod she puts the phone back to her ear. âCould you add another portion of mussels and black bean sauce to the order, please? Okay, perfect, see you at eight!â
Just the mention of food makes your stomach grumble, hunger taking over as if you didnât have a bowl of rice and stew an hour ago. From the mini charcuterie board youâd been preparing before Heeseung arrived, you eat a slice of smoky chorizo. And another. Aeri joins you, lifting the wedge of cheddar you bought earlier and taking a bite straight out of it. She hums, pleased, while you watch in horror.
âSo thatâs actually for sharing,â you point out belatedly.
âItâs only you two.â Shrugging, she puts the cheese down, cutting off her teeth mark. âAnd Jay,â she adds, looking around as if he might pop out from behind something. âWhere is he anyway?â
âOn his way. Probably?â Heeseung suggests.
âProbably? You live together, what do you mean probably?â Aeri asks.
âIâve been out all day. Shall I ring him and see?â
You shake your head. âWeâre not watching anything until eight oâclock, heâs got half an hour.â
Armed with snacks, you all set up the living room together. Charcuterie plate in the middle of the table for easy access while you wait for dinner, chilled wine and carton of apple juice, the coveted final packet of salt & vinegar crisps which you plan to steal so Jay can have them. Aeriâs in control of the remote, so the three of you watch YouTube videos of eighteen-year-olds playing Dress to Impress on Roblox while you wait for food and Jay to arrive. Eight p.m. comes quickly and with no sign of either, though it seems like youâre the only one to take notice as Aeri and Heeseung are fully locked in on rating the looks coming down the runway.
âOne star.â He groans, gesturing at the TV with both of his palms, furious. âThe theme was sea monster, why are you wearing a beret and holding an ice cream cone?â
Itâs half-eight when your takeaway arrives, and your phone lights up in your lap.
jongseong đœ: Canât make it tonight
jongseong đœ: Sorry
Not many things can wipe the Lillyâs-induced smile from your face, but this does the job. In a split second. Worsened by the fact that he doesnât say anything else. Beside you, Heeseung and Aeri open every container, humming with increased volume and enthusiasm at the sight and smell of each new part of your meal.
jongseong đœ: Tied up with recording but I wouldâve loved to see you!
You split a pair of wooden chopsticks, stealing a salt & chilli covered chip from the box in Aeriâs lap. She doesnât stop you. Nor does she complain when you take more. Heeseung hands you an oil-spotted brown paper bag, chicken balls, but still, the stir in your stomach persists, disappointment rather than hunger.
jongseong đœ: Are you free in the morning? Coffee date?
jongseong đœ: *coffee run
you: No worries!!!!! A coffee date sounds really nice :)
you: *coffee run
jongseong đœ: :)
Locking your phone, you tuck it under your thigh and reach over to open a bottle of the wine Heeseung brought. âJay canât make it,â you say, hating how small and upset you sound. Heeseung frowns and Aeri squeezes your knee. Youâre the one who presses play on the remote, and Superbadâs opening credits start up, while the empty spot to your left gets colder and colder.
jongseong đœ: Hiiiii sorry again about last night, are we still on for this morning?
jongseong đœ: Ik itâs so early hahaha
You almost drop your toothbrush in the sink at the sight of his name in your phone, rushing to text back.
you: Wowwwww Park, are you trying to bail on me already� Again? Sick.
jongseong đœ: No way! Iâve already left the flat!!!
Right away, a picture of Jay on the Tube appears in the thread, his smiling cheeks and eyes poking out over the top of a thick black scarf. You heart-react to the picture then remove it, replacing it with a friendly thumbs-up insteadâthere is, however, no fix for the butterflies in your stomach. The heat in your cheeks. You gargle mouthwash and pack your bag before running off to go meet him at once. So excited, so jittery, you canât even read the thriller you packed for the commute.
Through the cafĂ© window, you see Jay before he sees you. Heâs drumming his fingers against the table, lips pressed together, his eyes on the door. His hair is short and styled so it sits up off his forehead, spiky sort of. Youâve never seen it as short as this. Itâs good, you think, that youâve seen him first, because now you can turn on your heel and go home to address the thump in your chest. As if feeling your eyes on him, he turns around, gaze meeting yours right away, and a grin breaks out over his face. Crinkles his eyes. Dimples his cheek. Takes your breath away. You canât help but smile too as you hurry inside. Heâs standing when you reach the table.
âHey,â Jay says, pulling you into a hug that smells like honey and smoke and doesnât last nearly long enough. âI really am sorry about last night.â
âDonât worry about it, youâre here now.â
He nods, grinning. âI like your jacket, itâs cute.â
âRight? Itâs Minjeongâs.â You look up at him, overwhelmed by the closeness of his face to yours, by the handsomeness of said close face. âYou cut your hair,â you say, because itâs the only thought youâre having that has nothing to do with how good he looks and smells.
Jayâs lips curl into a sheepish smile. âThanks for noticing.â
âOf course.â You nod. âYou look like a baby.â
And there it is again, that grin. A laugh. âGreat, because thatâs exactly what I was going for. Thank you, YN.â He gestures to the table, at the steaming mug across from his seat. âI got you a latte.â
He really did! And the art on top of it is really normal!! Itâs a love heart!!! And your actual heart is beating at a rate others might hear and think: wow, sheâs being really normal right now! Hey, everybody!! Come take a look at how normal sheâs being!!!
âAre you ageist?â you ask, taking your seat. To his furrowed brows, you continue. âThereâs nothing wrong with looking like a baby. I was a baby once, you know.â
Jay sits down slowly, studying you over the rim of his cup and taking a long sip before he says, âI was too.â
Something about it all, seeing him like this, in a cafĂ© and not studying, is strange. Jay was big on brewing his own coffee, steeping his own teaâexam season was the only justifiable time to splurge on delicious multi-hyphenate beverages. You take a sip of your own drink and try to come up with something normal to say, settling on, âI canât believe weâre getting a coffee and it was your idea.â
âI donât really drink anymore, my medication doesnât⊠like that very much.â
âJay, itâs nine oâclock,â you point out. âOh⊠my God.â You cover your hand with your mouth, horrified, and leap to make things better. âIâm not judging you.â
âI didnât mean Iâd drink at this time. Jesus, YN. Iâm not Scottish.â
âOkay, so youâre judging me.â
âI canât help it, thatâs just my God given right as a⊠sort of English person. Asking me not to judge you would be like asking me to kill myself.â
âReally desirable?â You sigh as soon as the words come out. âIâm sorry,â you whisper, guilt washing over you.
Jayâs eyes widen and his jaw drops, a surprised, contagious, laugh rushing out of him. He covers his face with his hands while you watch in horror. âAnyway, I was going to ask, how long do you have to stay somewhere before you can claim it?â
Heâs still smiling. Your heart is still racing.
âI think itâs more of a feeling,â you say finally.
âYeah, I think youâre right.â Jay lifts his notebook from the table, stuffing it into his jacket pocket. âYou look a lot better since I last saw you, I was starting to think there was something about being near me that was making you sick, you know? Three times is a pattern and all that.â
âWe saw each other two days ago.â
âFor ten minutes,â he points out.
Ten minutes that you spent the rest of the day poring over, recounting every single detail, every little thing that led to him kissing your cheek when he said goodbye.
âWell, I only just got here, so Iâm not sure we can rule it out yet.â Racing heart, turning stomach, breathlessnessâsymptoms of post-acute infection, apparently. You offer a weak chuckle. âThanks again for looking after me, you really didnât have to.â
âI wanted to. And besides, it was nice spending time with you.â Jay smiles. âHowâve you been?â
âJust the usual.â
âI donât really know what your usual is these days,â he admits too casually for the weight of it all.
âRight⊠uh, Iâve beenââ You try to think about it, wondering what usual means to you. It used to be so simple. Your usual used to be studying with Jay before and after classes. Sharing every meal you could when time permitted. Ending the night together at his place or yours, even if youâd spent the day apart. He used to be your usual.
âI had an interview yesterday morning. At âInterview,â and I think it went well,â you say, voice high pitched and trailing off towards the end. Worried about jinxing yourself, you hadnât told anyone about it, not even Yizhuo who sent you the job posting. But now that youâve said the words out loud, to Jay, you canât bring yourself to stop. âBut my friend told me theyâre interviewing until the end of the month, so it might be a bit before I hear anything. Iâm feeling good about it though, my portfolio is strong, and itâs versatile â at least thatâs what the recruiter said â so I should have a shot for a few of the jobs there if I donât get this particular one.â
Jayâs face lights up with every word you say, as if youâve let him in on something secret, something precious.
âI didnât mean to talk your ear off,â you say, hiding behind a warm sip of coffee.
His smile takes over his face, ear to ear and so delighted. Pink kisses the tips of his ears, the apples of his cheeks. âLuckily I have two ears, and they really love your voice soâŠâ He trails off, ducking his head like heâs embarrassed by his own sincerity. âIâm really happy to hear that, YN. I want all of your good news. And the bad stuff tooâeverything.â
Suddenly sheepish, you direct the question back towards him, asking whatâs been keeping him busy lately. His smile is immediate and wide. âIâve been writing like crazy since I last saw you.â Jay tilts his head, chewing on his bottom lip, but his smile doesnât budge. âItâs stupid but it sort of feels like I can⊠see or something now, again. If that makes sense.â
âNot at all.â You canât help but smile too. âTell me everything.â
Pressing his lips together, Jay lets his gaze flick towards the window, looking out at the quiet street. Across the road is a deserted play park with swings that sway in the wind. A fish-shaped spring rocker does the same, bobbing gently. A man pushes a pram. Jay opens his mouth and says, âItâs like Iâve been walking around blindfolded for the last few years and someone finally took it off of me, and now I can see and thereâsââ He stops short, biting his lip as his eyes fall on the swirls in his coffee. And then flick up to meet yours. âWell now thereâs so much light again.â
You clear your throat, your mind a storm, thoughts unclear over the rush of your blood, the pounding of your heart in your ears. The latte he got you, while delicious, does nothing to calm the raging waters. It feels so pointed, too pointed to ignore. You were startlingly aware of how your five-day fever dream had blurred a line or two in your head. Spending all that time together, letting him look after you â Neo opening the door, following the white rabbit â flipped the switch in your head and turned your ifs into whens. If / when weâre alone, if / when we kiss. Turned you back into an eighteen-year-old, waiting by the phone for Jay to text you back.
Itâs only when his smile falters, just a touch, that you realise you havenât said anything. âThatâs kind of extremely beautiful,â you say finally, massively understating it.
âYeah.â He nods. âI thought so too.â
After finishing your drinks, you sit for a while longer, rehashing uni gossip you bled dry years ago, until the staff start giving you increasingly dirty looks, all but begging you to leave.
Jay holds the door open for you. âSo what are you up to today?â
âThis isââ Cold wind scrapes your neck, cutting you off as you button your coat to the top. âThis is what Iâm up to today.â
An amused breath slips out of him, a white cloud by his nostrils, and he takes his scarf off, wrapping it around your neck instead. âI mean after,â he says, unmoved by his gesture. Meanwhile, youâve got an inhale full of his scent and the exposed column of his neck, his heart-shaped birthmark, on your mind like a thirsty vampire. To your silence he waves his large hand in your face. âEarth to YN.â
âRight here, Park.â You swat his hand away, clearing your throat. âWhat are you up to after this?â
âI have a session in about an hour, come with?â he offers. âI should warn you though, itâll be really boring.â
âBoring? I could tell you hated your job and all of your fans.â
âNo, I mean for you.â Jay nudges your shoulder. Despite the layers, your heart stumbles at the contact. âBecause you kind of just have to sit there and be quiet, which I know will be difficult for you.â
Heat floods your cheeks, pools at the base of your spine. âShut up,â you mumble, turning away from him.
âWhat?â Genuine confusion pulls his voice up a few octaves. âOh,â he says after a beat, figuring it out for himself. âI didnât mean it like that, but when did I ever complain? I like it.â
âPlease stop talking.â
Jay stands to attention, saluting you. âYes, maâam.â
âFuck, if youâre going to beg me then, fine, Jay. Iâll come to the studio with you.â You sigh, struggling to fight a smile. âI canât catch a break with you.â
His head tips back with sweet laughter and he loops his arm through yours, tugging you and the butterflies in your stomach down the road towards the station. âNo, YN. You really canât.â
On the empty platform, you stand side by side, looking at the massive NAPE poster plastered on the wall. Jay, who usually has no shortage of things to say at any given moment, stares at it in silence. The poster is taller than you are, with No Way Back Tour written at the top in blocky red sans serif. In the centre is a four cut photo strip with a picture of each member, thatâs thresholded to oblivion, and the bottom lists a bunch of different venues around London.
âWhat do you think?â you ask. âI think itâs cool, the portraits look good with the red on them like that.â
Jay snaps back into motion, turning to face you, his teary eyes finding yours. He smiles. âI think I had something else in mind when Riki told me there was a huge poster of my face in the station.â
âWhat? Just your face?â
He shrugs. âYeah, just my face.â
âPark Jongseong,â you utter, shaking your head. âWhere is your team spirit?â
Jay rolls his eyes but canât hide his smile. âDead and gone. Take a picture? Please.â He holds his phone out for you to take and stands by the poster, poking the cheek of his large, printed face.
âCelebritiesâŠâ You sigh, though you canât ignore the swell of pride in your chest. Youâve taken a thousand pictures of Jay standing by posters for movies and artists he enjoys, so this feels almost full-circle in a way youâre struggling to wrap your head around. âCan I take some on my phone?â
He nods, and you slip his phone into your bag, reaching for yoursââThis is not happening right now!â A uniformed teenage girl is standing right behind you when you turn around. The strap of her backpack has a can badge with NAPE written on it. Her face and neck and ears bright red as she points a trembling finger at him. âYouâreâyouâre⊠Jay fucking Park!â
âHello,â Jay says, heâs smiling too. He is also turning red. âGood morning.â
âHello?â she repeats, incredulous. âHello, yourself, Jay Park. Holy shit!â Everything she says sits at the junction of whispering and screaming as your eyes flick back and forth between the two of them.
âI really slept in this morning and I was like ugh, I donât want to go to school, so I almost didnât leave the house, but then I finally did and I was like, I donât want to walk, so then I came down here, which I literally never do and then I saw you and I was like, sheâs so pretty, and then you were taking pictures of literal Jay Park. This is like literally a sign,â she continues, all in one breath. When she shows you her lock screen, sheâs listening to Carolina. âMy top song for the last two years.â
Youâve never met a celebrity before, as a fan anyway, so you canât say for sure how youâd react, but her coherence is impressiveâyouâre not sure you could stand in front of Michael B. Jordan without crying or screaming or proposing, never mind recounting the events that led you there in the first place.
Jayâs entire face is smiling, looking down at this sweet girl like she hung the moon and the starsâhe looks like the fan here, hanging onto her every word. âIt must be a sign. A great one. Iâm really happy to meet you.â A beautiful mix of intrigue, delight, and timidness colours his tone and his wide eyes, straightens his spine.
You feel equally mesmerised by each of them.
âSame,â she says simply, extending a hand for both you and Jay to shake, the picture of composure all of a sudden. Sheâs amazing. âIâm Wonhee. No one at schoolâs going to believe this at all, holy shit.â
âWonhee,â he repeats, to her utmost elation. âDo you want a picture, Wonhee? So everyone at school believes you?â
Wonheeâs jaw drops. âAre you kidding?â
When she says itâs okay, Jay puts his arm around her shoulders, a boyish grin scrunching his sweet face. He looks even more like the fan in all one million live photos you take on Wonheeâs phone. âWow,â she utters, swiping through the pictures. âWow!â A glorious, giddy laugh comes out of her and she bolts away up the stairs, leaving the stationâso much for school.
âShe was so cute,â you coo, unable to keep the smile off your face.
âYeah.â Jayâs gaze stays on the stairs like she might come back. âYeah, she was.â
âLook at you, my little celebrity!â
This makes him look away, his eyes falling to his feet, ears and neck just as red as Wonheeâs were. âNo, not really,â he mumbles. âOr, not universally, which is a relief. I donât really get noticed like that, and I think it was only because I was standing next to a giant picture of my face.â
And what a lovely face it is. âYouâre her lockscreen, Jay. Iâm sure sheâd recognise you if she only saw the back of your head.â
âIâm her lockscreen?â
You nod, liking the giddy smile he wears. Liking the flutter in your stomach at the sight of it. The warmth in your chest. âIsnât it so crazy that youâve made her day, maybe even her week, and all you did was take a picture?â
âNot really, sheâs made my day too.â Jay shrugs, blush still lingering on his skin. âI was already having an amazing day with you, of course. So meeting Wonheeâs just the cherry on top of a great day that already had a cherry on it.â His words come out rushed, one big run on word with no breaks to breathe or think. Like everything he says is coming out of him as soon as it crosses his mind.
âGreat,â you say through a breathy laugh. âIâm having a good time too.â
âWashington State is actually the top producer of sweet cherries in the States, did you know that? I was starting to miss them, being away so longâand now I have two cherries on my wonderful day.â Jay is grinning from ear to ear like some sort of adorably Cheshire Cat / Joker hybrid, rocking back and forth on his feet. He might be the most excited person in the whole world at this very moment. Second to Wonhee at least.
You canât think of the last time you saw him so excited about something. Itâs interesting to see a celebrity so thrilled by parts of the job that seem so normal from the outside looking in. Something youâd think heâd be used to by now, two years and millions of streams in. Regardless, youâre just happy heâs happy.
And because you canât resist teasing him, you say, âI get it, Jay. Youâre having the best day of your life because you got attention from a pretty girl. Congratulations.â You give him a slow round of applause.
Undeterred, he tucks some of your hair behind your ear, his warm touch lingering on your skin. âIâm not trying to brag or anything, but Iâve gotten attention from two pretty girls today.â
Your cheeks burn. âEven better.â
Behind you, the Tube whooshes to a stop and the doors slide open right in front of where Jayâs standing. A distraction, finally. âAnd look at that,â he says, pointing to the doors. âThree cherries.â
NAPEâs room at Laughing Kitty Studios is a large wood-panelled rectangle and you two are the first to arrive. Jay takes his shoes off by the door, so you do the same, stepping in after him. Plaques and posters line the walls, streaming milestones and Nirvana. A worn leather couch sits in the middle of the room with a long table and two chairs at its back. Jay gestures around him and says, âThis is where the magic happens.â He gives you a tour when you ask, showing you the huge monitor and lots of expensive mixing equipment that all looks the same to you. In the vocal booth, he shows you the controls and the locked cabinet where they keep snacks.
Helping you out of your coat, Jay hangs it up on the rack beside his and watches as you sink into the couch. âDo you prefer working here or at home?â you ask.
He takes a beat, thinking it over with his hands on his waist. âI guess it depends where weâre at. If we have a deadline or just want to get shit done, we work better here. And itâs nice having, like, a base, I guess, where other writers or producers can come to work with us.â
âThat makes sense, itâs like a safe space, kind of.â
âMmm, safe space,â he repeats. âI like that.â Jay sits too, leaving a small gap between you. âMost days though, especially when the weatherâs shit, I prefer working at home.â
âAh, see, I hated working at home; too many distractions.â
âSunoo takes all our phones if heâs with us, so no distractions for NAPE at the studio.â Jay licks his lips, eyes meeting yours. âNot normally.â
Your awareness of Jay peaks. Of the spread of his thighs, of his hand grazing your leg when he lifts it from the couch cushion. Every cell in your body zings with this awareness, humming, and even though youâre smiling, even though your heart is a second away from beating out of your chest, you roll your eyes at him, cheeks on fire.
âWill you show me what youâve been working on?â you ask. âSince Iâve come all this way?â
A boyish grin takes over his face as he nods. âBut only because youâve travelled all of fifteen minutes to get here, my strong, strong girl,â he says, taking out his phone and plugging it into the speaker behind the couch.
His strong, strong girl. Your sanity slips, just a little. Though you suppose itâs this alleged strength that keeps you sitting where you are, rather than jumping into his lap and kissing his stupid, handsome face.
Jayâs thumb hovers over the play button and he hesitates, seeming to second-guess himself before giving a hurried preface. âItâs just a demo, you know? Me and my guitar. I threw it together last night so the final thing probably wonât sound anything like this, alright?â
âYou donât have to play it for me if you donât want to,â you say, squeezing his knee. âIâm sure itâs amazing though, because you wrote it.â
His ears go bright pink and he scratches the back of his neck. âItâs important to me that you hear it,â he tells you, sounding very certain for someone so clearly nervous. Thereâs something about it, his certainty, that makes your heart pick up, just a touch as you nod. He presses play and immediately the sound of his guitar fills the room, humming against the couch. Just like he did at the show, how he used to on the end of your bed, he picks a pretty melody. The image comes quick and clearâJay at twenty. Twenty-one. Sitting in his underwear with his acoustic in his lap, picking the same notes over and over until they either sounded right, or you managed to convince him to get into bed instead. A knife to the gut would hurt less. And then he starts to sing. At first, in some of the most beautiful gibberish and lalalas youâve ever heard. You open your mouth to compliment him anyway, but the lyrics come in, actual real words with actual real meanings, and everything you wanted to say falls to the wayside.
âYou make my heart beat for you. I always cry too often, but I put too much in your hands. So much regret in the end,â Jay sings.
Through the speaker his voice is full and sincere and gorgeous as ever, all while he sits next to you with his bottom lip caught between his teeth. In your chest, your heart does an ungraceful tumble. If he can hear it, your thumping heart, he is polite enough not to comment, instead watching you closely, trying to gauge your reaction, maybe. Trying to read your mind.
âItâs a shame for you, itâs a shame for me. Is the blame on you? No, YN, itâs all on me.â
Oh.
A demo and a confession.
His thoughts laid bare at last, the vulnerability you used to beg for handed over on an acoustic platter. Curling around the room and filling the shortening gap between your bodies until your knee presses against his thigh, or the other way aroundâyou canât tell who moved. You donât remember. You donât care. Not when his lips are parted like that, not when heâs close enough for you to feel the heat radiating from his body. Close enough to kiss. The voice in your head says his name over and over. Jongseong. Jongseong. Jongseong. Your favourite nine letters stuck on the tip of your tongue. There are too many things to say, and too many ways to say them, so you donât say anything at all.
Luckily, Jay says it all for youâsings it. âWish I knew how to make it right. Just wanna look into your eyes, tell you the truth that I canât hide, I love you so much.â
Answering seems so simple, but when you try, your mind blanks. Fills, rather, buzzing with all the wrong things. Thoughts and memories. Everything thatâs happened over the last three weeks, the time youâve been together again. Back in each otherâs orbit. How he dropped everything to look after you, chose you.
How he finally chose you.
Thereâs a lightness in your chest, like some persistent weight has been lifted at long last. And now, looking at him, Jay. Your JayâJongseong. The freckles on his cheek, how the skin is tinted rosy. Pinched pink. His eyes, dark and wide and staring straight into yours. The only thing on your mind is: I love you, I love you, I love you. You tip your chin, and the space between your lips and his becomes little more than a technicality. His breath is warm against your skin, close enough to feel when it hitches. Close enough to see each of his eyelashes, to count them. To see how they flutter when he blinks, gaze falling to your mouth. Yours does the same, latching on the smooth pink skin, desperate now. Resisting seems futile, so you give in, pressing your lips to his and hoping itâll be enough to tell him everything.
Jayâs relief is immediate. Clear in the shuddered breath that slips out of him, caught between kisses as he melts against you. His hand finds your jaw, fingers slipping into your hair behind your ear just like they used to. Tongue brushing up to tickle the roof of your mouth and make you smile like always. It feels like itâs been two minutes since your last kiss, not three years. Feels impossible that you went that long without this.
Without Jay.
His grip on your waist is gentle, but his fingertips sear your skin. He pulls you closer, and closer, each point of connection setting off a blaze in its wake. Mouth to mouth. Chest to chest. Knees to the sides of his thighs as you sink into his lap. Like this, under you, the sight of Jay is too muchâflushed cheeks, plump lips, ragged breath. The feel of him, all solid muscle and huge palms slipping under your skirt. Nails digging into the curve of your ass. You lean in, lips catching his jaw, finding the side of his neck. His skittering pulse. His birthmark. Sucking on the warm skin there makes him groan, makes his hips buck. His dick strains against his jeans, hitting the exact spot that makes you putty in his hands, moans slipping from both of you as you work up a rhythm.
Your name trails off into a sigh when he tries to say it. âWhat does this mean?â he asks, breathless.
âI donât know,â you admit, and for a long while afterwards, the only sound in the studio is the two of you trying to catch your breath. âDo you want to stop?â you ask, terrified for the answer.
Jay says nothing.
Your fingers slip easily through his hair, playing with the tickly short strands on the sides of his head. His question feels heavier the longer he goes without speaking, the longer you stew on it. What does this mean, if anything? Thereâs an uncomfortable swoop in your stomach, how could this possibly mean nothing? Nothing more than a spur of the moment makeout, never to be spoken of. A unanimous mistake.
On an inhale, Jayâs chest puffs out, touching yours for a heartbeat and he shakes his head. âNot for anything,â he whispers, leaning up to kiss you again.
And this time, when he rocks his hips, his grip on you tightens and he pulls you down to meet them. Itâs too much all at once, heat lashing at you from every angle. Increasing with each brush of your tongues, with each press of his covered dick between your legs. Need burns a flame at the base of your stomach, tugs a whine out of you.
Against yours, Jayâs lips quirk into a smile, a smirk. âNeeded this just as bad as me, huh, baby?â he asks, voice a low rasp.
âMore,â you breathe.
To this, he pulls away, looking up at you with furrowed brows. He shakes his head and says, âNo way.â Jayâs heavy palm cups your cheek, his eyes round and wide. A burst of tenderness in the midst of all the heat as his hips freeze under you. A flutter in your stomach. Warmth in your chest, on your cheeks.
âAbsolutely, no way,â he says and once again, his lips come up to meet yours. Slow this time, gentle and sweet.
Until laughter erupts from the door, and forces the two of you apart. As if being caught in this position isnât bad enough, a string of spit attaches you to him when you pull away. There are two guys standing in the doorway, one of them still laughing, the other one pressing his lips in a flat line, as though seeing the two of you like this is disappointing but not surprising.
Frustration and embarrassment wash over you in equal measure, a wave with the force of an eighteen-wheeler casting its great shadow above you. Only death could fix this, of that, you are certainâyou canât laugh at a dead person. At least not right away, surely thereâs a buffer period of some description.
The amused one speaks first. âI thought you said you moved the couch off the wall so they wouldnât fuck on it.â
âYes, Jungwon. That was the general idea.â Stepping into the studio, shoes off, the disappointed one points at the sign above the light switchâa short list of forbidden things that has, no sex in the studio, written in bold, red letters at the top of it.
Great.
Maybe under different circumstances, if Jay had shown it to you, you might have laughed at the sign, thinking of what had to go wrong to lead to such a notice existing in the first place. For sex to rank over smoking and playing ball games on the list of things not to do in there. Now, like this, sitting in Jayâs lap with only a few layers of clothing between his erection and your dripping cunt, it makes you want to die.
Already, you had a whole host of things to stew over in bed tonight â spending all morning with Jay, the song, the kiss â and now you get to add being walked in on to the roster.
The rush of blood in your ears is disorienting, warbling Jayâs voice when he says, âItâs a great sign, Sunoo.â Completely unconcerned, he wears a great big smile and keeps his hands under your skirt. âBut it says nothing about kissing.â
Your breath catches. Sunoo. His manager. Even better.
Without another thought, you stand, straightening your skirt. Jay doesnât move, he just sits there with his hands on his thighs, eyes trailing over every inch of your body as if youâre still alone. As if now that he knows he can, he wants to use the opportunity to the fullest.
âYes,â Sunoo agrees, sinking into one of the spinny chairs by the monitor and rubbing his temples. âAnd Iâm coming to regret that.â
Silence hangs over the room as Jungwon steps inside, closing the door after himself. He runs his finger over the sign, following the words one at a time like heâs sounding it out or studying it. How nice it must be, not to have a stake in this moment. You clear your throat, deciding that if the universe isnât going to answer your pleas for sudden death, you might as well perform good and normal social niceties. âIâm YN,â you announce, so loud that Jungwon flinches by the door. âItâs⊠nice to meet you both.â
âLikewise.â A genuine smile covers Sunooâs face, scrunches his eyesâitâs like looking at an angel. âI can see why Jay talks about you so much.â
âSorry forâŠâ You trail off, unsure how best to put across whatever the hell you and Jay were doingâsorry for having a reconciliatory dry hump on your couch, doesnât exactly roll off the tongue. âThat,â you say finally.
He laughs and the sound is delightful, a dismissive wave of his hand accompanying it like he wasnât just losing his mind. âPlease, that wasnât even the worst thing Iâve walked in on this week.â Sunoo shudders, seeming truly disturbed. âFirst time offence for Jay though,â he adds thoughtfully, which is oddly reassuring.
Jungwon claps his hands, one loud smack as he sits on the other end of the couch, a bright smile on his face like heâs solved some pressing matter. âSo what if the sign says, no partners in the studio, instead?â he asks, nudging Jay.
His emphasis on the word partner sets off your stomach, steadily fluttering butterflies flying around a swirl of heat. Is that where this might have led? Where you and Jay could end up? Partners. Again? Casual-workplace-dry-humpationship isnât a relationship status youâve had before, or heard of, but now, the thought of it being as far as things go here, with Jay, is a horrible weight on your shoulders, a pressure in your chest.
Sunoo sighs. âI love this band, I really do, but the horny fuckers would just kiss each other.â
At this, you all laugh. All but Sunoo, anyway.
Itâs straight to work when the rest of the guys arrive, and Sunoo settles on the other end of the couch, typing away at his laptop and pausing to give his opinion when they ask. Sunghoon sits with his knees to his chest, picking at his lip as he stares at the screen, clicking this and that, playing it back over and over, no matter what imperceptible change theyâve suggested.
Standing over his shoulder, Heeseung tilts his head. âActually, yeah. Your wayâs better, cut that.â
âI think quiet for half a bar instead of fading outâeverything off just vocals, and then back on full force for the last chorus. Louder,â Jake suggests, so Sunghoon does just that and plays the whole thing over again. You canât hear the difference, but all of the guys hum in approval.
Heeseung riffs. Jay does the same on his guitar, and he was sort of right. Maybe if you were less fascinated by him, you would be bored. But heâs kind of extremely good at this. All of them. They manage to lock in for hours at a time, bouncing ideas around and executing them perfectly in a matter of two or three takes. Late in the afternoon, Jungwon orders pizza and they stop working to eat before getting right back to it. Itâs the only break they take all day.
âLook, I know you want to, but you donât need to take a new song out with youânot yet anyway.â Sunoo stands up from the couch, putting his laptop into his bag. âYou still have time to decide on the encore show, but maybe after all the travelling youâll have a few finished songs. New setting, new inspiration.â
Jake furrows his brows. âMeaning?â
âMeaning, I think weâre cutting it a bit thin. I mean this is your last full week off â bar rehearsal â before tour starts, and I donât want you so stressed about something with an easy fix.â
At the mention of the word tour, Jay stiffens. You do the same.
Jungwon takes his headphones off and turns to face the room, laptop in hand to show the screen. âDo we like these T-shirts for the U.S. shows?â
âYeah, butâŠâ Sunghoon squints, getting closer. âThey look just like the Australia and New Zealand shirts.â
âWhich look just like the Europe ones,â Heeseung points out.
Every sentence makes things worse and worse. Theyâre going on tour in a week. Jay is leaving in a week. Going to the U.S., to fucking Oceania, and this is how youâre finding out. The tightness in your chest, the ache in your stomach, is immediate. Instead of looking at you, Jay bites at his nails. Scrunches his nose.
âIf we could kindly get back on track,â Sunoo interrupts, pulling his jacket on. âYou have Live Lounge when youâre back in March, VEVO Studios in Aprilâmuch better opportunities to showcase new music. I know you want something special for fans, but maybe we can shoot a performance video of⊠Royalty? And release it on Valentineâs Day?â
Jay hides his face in his hands. âOkay.â
âJust think about it, okay. Itâs up to you, and I promise Iâll support whatever you decide. For now, though, I have carbonara and an episode of Lovely Runner waiting for me at home, so Iâm away, yeah?â
With that, Sunoo leaves and Jungwon is quick to follow. The guys sit in silence for a bit before getting back to work. By your side, Jay hunches over his guitar, resting his chin on the body, picking at the strings aimlessly. Across the room, Heeseung, Jake, and Sunghoon crowd around the monitor, nitpicking.
While their demo plays through the speakers again, louder than before, Jay finally speaks. âYou and your friends can come if youâre up to it, to the London show. Whoever you want. On me,â he mumbles, looking at the fretboard instead of you.
âOkay.â You nod, though the thought of having to tell Minjeong that Jay has upset you again, that youâve let him close enough to be upset by him again, is too grim to bear, so you text the chat, inviting them along instead.
you: Nape concert next Friday night on me (on the band) whoâs there?
somi: me me me me me
yizhuo: Will Jake be there?
riki: will jake be at his concert.
riki: what happened w you and jimin đ€
yizhuo: No further questions your honour (she only wants to hookup HAHAHHAHA).
riki: my apologies twin (Go Get Your #Man).
you: Oh okay bc I thought you all had very important jobs right . Right. MY FUCKING BAD.
And just like that, all three of them stop texting.
Itâs ten p.m. by the time you and Jay reach your flat, and neither of you have said anything since you said bye to the other guys back at the studio, ten Tube stops ago. You search in your bag for your keys, desperate to end this silence by disappearing inside. Jay has other plans though, apparently, because when you twist your key in the lock and step over the threshold he sighs, saying your name. You donât look at him.
âI swear to God, I was going to tell you about the tour, okay? I wouldnât just leave like that. Not again.â Though his credibility where telling you things is concerned is shaky at best, you nod and he continues. âIâve known for ages, obviously, but I wasnât sure when to tell you or if youâd care.â
âYou werenât sure Iâd care that youâre leaving for two months?â you ask, hoping he can hear how absurd that sounds.
âThree months,â he corrects, mumbling an apology when you squint at him. âI didnât want you to get the wrong idea about what I thought this was or could be, by talking about my short-term plans like youâre my girlfriend or something.â
Your scoff echoes through the hall, an accurate reflection of the irritation that heats you from the inside out. âSure, Jay. Give me the right idea then.â
He takes a beat, his eyes catching over all of your features. âYouâre cross with me,â he states simply.
Cross, he said. As if that even begins to cover it. Maybe if you were any less cross with him, the Briticism might have made you smile. âVery.â
âIâm sorry, YN. I shouldâve told you sooner.â
âSunoo told me. You didnât say anything.â
âLook, I didnât mean toââ Jay pauses, pressing his eyes shut with his fingers until his nails turn pale. With a shaky breath, he tries again. âWe didnât have hard conversations at home. My parents would just make up their minds and do shit, you know. I found out we were moving to Seoul when my dad came into my room with a bunch of boxes, and told me to fill them up.â
The words rush out of him, each of them a blade to the heart, deeper than the last. Twisting. Youâve seen all of his childhood photos, the calendar his parents had made when he was eight. His permed curly hair and bright smile, those big round eyes that never failed to melt your heart no matter how many times you saw the pictures. Hearing that his parents could raise him that way, their only child, to change his life at the drop of a hat, like he was just another thing to put in a box and cart away, stings the backs of your eyes. From what you remember, heâd gone from the U.S. to Korea, then London, all so quicklyâand now you know, with no warning.
âLondon was the same, back to Tacoma, same thing, and back again. I never reallyâŠâ He trails off, chewing on his lip before he starts again. âI thought Edinburgh would be like that too, it was supposed to be. But then I met you, and for the first time, the thought of leaving was terrifying. I thought it was about the band, what my parents might say, but it was you, YN. I never had a home to leave until I met you, and I didnât realise that until it was already too late.â
The realisation sets in with deep unease. His room in Edinburgh was completely bare when you met him, just the essentials, the stuff you can only assume was easy to move with. It was only after the two of you had been together for a while that his room started filling up. Posters and knick-knacks. Snowglobes and postcards from whatever holiday Minjeong had planned for you, her and Jaehyun. At the end of it all, by the time it had been two weeks since Jay left your place and never looked back, his flatmate Wonbin handed you a box with these things in it. To your confusion, to your upset, he only raised a brow and said, I thought you agreed itâd be better to end things? With him moving back home and thatâŠ
âAnd even after I left, I had a million and one chances to reach out to you, to explain, apologise, all of it, but IâI really let you down, and Iâm sorry. Iâm not that person anymore.â He looks down, shaking his head. âI donât want to be that person anymore.â
Your body reacts before your words can, hand reaching out to his cheek, cupping the smooth, flushed skin. His eyes flick up to meet yours, and the only thing you can say is, âYouâre not. Itâs okay, I promise.â
âItâs not, YN.â He presses his lips together, biting the skin until the pressure turns the pink pale. âI just want you to be happy.â
Again, the words are right there, twisting painfully in your throat and stuck to the tip of your tongue. I love you. I still love you. Itâs you, Jay. Itâs always, only you. But you canât get them out, canât bring yourself to say them. âI am happy, Jay,â you say instead.
Jayâs lips quirk up at the corners, not quite a smile but close. âYouâre happy,â he repeats, nodding his head as he seems to consider this. The silence is awful, turning your stomach and when he finally opens his mouth to speak, youâre so certain heâs going to wish you a goodnight that you rush to speak first.
âWhen are you leaving?â
âSaturday.â One day after the London show. Ten days from today. âManchesterâs Tuesday, then Glasgow, DublinâŠâ He trails off, but you know the restâParis, Hamburg, Stockholm⊠Auckland, Brisbane⊠You studied the order from the poster Jungwon showed you.
âWhen can I see you again?â you ask quietly.
âIâm not sure.â Jay tilts his head. âWant me to send you my Google Calendar?â
Heâs kidding, you know that much, but still, you say, âPlease.â
At this, he pulls up the app on his phone, multi-coloured blocks filling the screen. âLooks like Iâm free at 3 a.m. tomorrow,â he says, clicking the share button and pasting the link in your text thread, where your contact is saved as MY â€ïž. Still. Jay hits send on the message and again his calendar fills the screen. âAnd right now.â
âMe tooâŠâ You trail off.
To your surprise, it doesn't take much more to get Jay into the flat, into your room. To have your back against the bedroom door and his lips on yours, not even separating to push your coat down your shoulders. His hands span wherever he can touch, slipping under your shirt to press your body closer to his.
Jay tugs at the waistband of your tights. "Want these off."
"Later." You chase his kiss, desperate not to lose momentum, not to give either of you an opportunity to think about this and what it means.
Relenting, his hand slips under them instead, grabbing your ass. Bucking forwards, you feel his thick cock against you, a swirl of heat ravishing the base of your stomach. He sighs into the kiss, parting your legs with his thigh and guiding you over the solid muscle.
It's not enough. "My tights," you say, changing your tune. "Rip them, Jay.â
He moans on a shaky exhale, pulling away to look down at you. "Are you joking? I can't tell if you're joking." His eyes are blown and frantic, searching your face. As soon as you shake your head, he tugs at the thin fabric until it tears, making a hole. Cool air rushes against you, forcing you to draw a breath. "Now what?â
You push your damp underwear to the side, fingers parting your slick folds before you rock your hips once more. Painfully slow. The feeling of his thigh, the rough denim of his jeans grazing your clit, makes you whimper into the space between you. Jay's lips quirk up at the corner, his bruising grip guiding your hips back and forth.
"So needy, aren't you?" He pushes his thigh harder against you. "What am I gonna do with you, beautiful?"
Holding his gaze is an effort, but you'd die if you missed the way he looks right now, half-lidded eyes looking down at you, his bottom lip pulled between his teeth. Even blinking feels like a waste. "Anything, Jay. Do anything."
"Bed?" As soon as you nod he carries you over, setting you down.
You lean up on your elbows to watch him undressâhis jacket comes off first, falling to the floor. Then his T-shirt, pulled over his head, triceps huge when he bends his arms. A lick of need burns your core at the sight of his tattoo peeking out over his waistband, the thick dark hair under his belly button. You have to chew on your lip to hold a moan, but he notices.
"Like what you see?" He smiles, freeing his belt from the loops of his jeans.
"Mhm."
Jay's eyes trail over your body, skin ablaze wherever his gaze lands. "Not as much as I like you." He leans over and kisses you. "Your pretty little mouth," he murmurs, lips trailing your throat. "Your neck, your shoulders." At your chest, he takes his time. Sucking and licking your nipples through your tank top, urging whimpers out of you with each bite and tug. It's only when he continues down the rest of you that you remember the point he's making, a kiss pressed by your belly button. "Your stomach, thighs. Everything, baby. Love all of you.â
Love all of you. You can't breathe. Love all of you. His hands slip under your skirt, pulling off your panties and torn tights in one go. Love all of you. You might die here, now, like this.
He gets up to take off his pants, leaving only his tight grey underwear and the dark patch in the centre, where the fabric clings to his leaking tip. "Want you on me, YN." He licks his lips before a breathtaking smile spreads over them, slow and feline. A smirk, more like. "Sound good? You wanna sit on dâmy face?" Even the thought of riding his face, of the word he stopped himself from saying, hitches your breath.
Saying, please, is a measured effort, though he wastes no time getting between your legs. Just the feel of him under you, his built shoulders and solid chest, thick arms wrapped around your soft thighs; seeing him like this, eyes half-lidded and stuck on your cunt, is dizzying and he hasn't even touched you yet.
"So pretty everywhere." The words are a low whisper, warm and sudden, before he licks you from back to front.
A burst of pleasure arches your back, coursing through you immediately as you grind down on him, rutting against the tip of his nose. Dipping into you, his tongue moves slowly to match the roll of your stuttering hipsâhe's kissing you, making out. And loving every second of it if his groans are anything to go off of. It is, at once, too much and not enough. His pouty mouth finds your clit, licking it in circles, driving you crazy.
"Fuck," you whine. "Like that."
When he hums in response, it rumbles through you, forcing a moan from you as you tug at his hair. At the feeling of it, he groans, burying his face deeper and deeper. Tipping his chin towards you. In his enjoyment of it all, in his actions, he makes no effort to be quietâsquelches amplified and filthy, with his exaggerated movements of his mouth against your soaking cunt.
Your orgasm creeps up on you, slow to start but quickly overbearing. "Jay." From your lips, his name is a wobbly cry. "Jay," you repeat. Falling forwards, your hands grip fruitlessly at the sheets, whole body trembling in his hold. Pure bliss washes over you in harsh waves, whiting the dark behind your closed eyelids. How could you ever go without this again? How did you manage in the first place? You can't even voice it, warn him, that you're close, that you're there, unthinkable heat hitting you from every angle as you gush all over him. He doesn't let up, only humming and licking more feverishly, quicker, harder, and pressing the entire bottom half of his face to you, drinking up your release.
Catching your breath is an impossibility, your legs and stomach twitching as he cleans you up with his tongue, murmuring praises against you. Thank you, baby, as his nose hits your clit. Missed this pretty pussy, after he licks your clenching hole. So good for me, when he sucks at your inner thigh. Jay looks a mess when you finally sit up, glancing down at him. Ruffled hair. Slow blinking eyes. Everything from his straight nose down is slick and shiny, cum slipping over his jaw, and a smile curving his swollen lips. A handsome mess.
You clench around nothing.
Later, you share the shower and lots of kisses, teeth bumping under the spray as Jay whimpers, coming in your hand before getting into bed. He strokes your hair, twirling the ends around his fingers, and opening his mouth to speak but says nothing. Minutes pass like this until you finally ask, âWhat is it?â
He shakes his head, smiling too. âItâs nothing.â
âTell me, baby.â
âI just⊠I kind of feel like Iâm dreaming or something,â he admits softly, though you feel the words in every part of you.
Stuck for what to say, scared to say anything, you lean up and kiss him instead. Kiss him until your stomach starts to flutter. Until youâre gasping for breath, legs tangling together under the duvet, because if this really is a dream, you donât want to have any regrets when you wake up.
@.gigiseung: DUDEEEEEE JAY GOT A GIRLFRIEND đđđ I USED TO PRAY FOR TIMES LIKE THIS THE MUSIC IS GONNA BE HAPPY !!!!!!! FINALLY!!!!!!!!!!
112 replies | 675 retweets | 5.6k likes | 752 bookmarks
@.nojayback: no one moved đ
@.gigiseung: girl im really sorry but your boyfriend has a girlfriend and itâs not jake or you⊠i retweetedâŠ
@.sunghoon67: I SAW JAY AT MOONSTRUCK ON A DATE WITH A BEAUTIFUL WOMAN THIS IS NOT A DRILL WATCH THE FUCKING VIDEO đđđđđđđđđđđđđđđ
400 replies | 4.2k retweets | 25k likes | 2.3k bookmarks
@.nojayback: WHY DID HE PUT HIS SCARF ON HER LIKE THAT WHO TAUGHT HIM THAT ??? WHO EVEN IS SHEEEEE đđđ
@.sunghoon67: IDK WHO SHE IS I JUST KNOW SHEâS HOT AND HAS AN ACCENT
@.nojayback: AND LOOK AT HIS OUTFIT HE MET WONHEE IN THIS OUTFIT DID THIS GIRL TAKETHAT FUCKING PICTURE??? @.jaykeyaoi wake tF UP RNNNN DID YOU MEET HER TOO???
@.NAPEisFOUR: So friendship between a man and a woman isnât a thing anymore? This fandom never fails to disgust me.
@.gigiseung: @.NAPEisFOUR GOODBYEEEE a sex tape would be less incriminating.
minjeong: Oh girl I canât defend you anymore send my fucking jacket back TODAY
you: What jacket ???
Her next message has ten pictures. And then another set of ten pictures. And then another.
minjeong: Lie again. Asking âwhat jacketâ DUDE I SEE YOU WEARING IT AND WITH YOUR FUCKING SATANIC EX TOO⊠Killing you would not be enough.
All of the pictures are Twitter screenshots, threads of NAPE fans trying to solve a mystery by the looks of things. Several photos of you and Jay, a video, even. All from yesterday morning.
@.hojumilkpuppy: ALL THESE FUCKING PICTURES AND NOT ONE SHOT OF HER FACE ??? ARE WE KIDDING RN WHO IS THIS AND WHERE DID SHE GET THAT JACKET
@.gigiseung: OP said she has an accent and jay said he studied in edinburgh right?
@.hojumilkpuppy: Are You Trying To Tell Me This Is Miss Carolina.
@.jaysnape: am i the only one who thinks filming them like this is weird af idk itâs nice seeing him all smiley and in love but idkkkkk it feels weird seeing this when they clearly have no idea theyâre on camera
@.ClubNAPE: If youâre feeling distressed by the video, itâs ok. But please take care of yourself. Step away from social media for a couple of days. Donât attack or criticise Jay, too much money and time went into publicly harassing him and it finally paid off for those people.
@.jm4pjs: Thanks for trying to encourage us, but Iâm so sad and furious at the same timeâŠFor now Iâm empty⊠I hope he uses condomsâŠ
@.ClubNAPE: Trust me when I say he doesnât go that far with her. Just, please trust me.
@.hojumilkpuppy: You are an adult.
Each thread follows a similar pattern, hundreds, maybe thousands, of NAPE fans freaking out over the video. Posting detailed body language analysis to prove and disprove the true nature of your and Jayâs relationship. The split seems even enoughâhalf of them happy for Jay, for you; half of them affronted by the mere suggestion that Jay might have feelings for any woman in a way beyond friendship. The worst part of it all, by your standards at least, is that youâre just as confused as them and itâs your relationship.
The original video, sunghoon67âs pinned tweet, has over a million views. In all of her replies, she goes to bat for you, insisting that the whole time she saw you and Jay, the two of you seemed comfortable and happy, and that she was not stalking him, but happened to be at the cafĂ© studying for over an hour when you arrived.
somi: YOU AND JAY???
yizhuo: Do Not even get me started.
riki: you told them about uni? i thought that was a secret yn u made me feel specialâŠyou okay though? this is kind of extremely crazy đ€
yizhuo: What the fuck do you mean UNI
somi: ???
riki: ning yizhuo you have a degree i know ykwtf uni is.
You mute the groupchat, putting your phone on Do Not Disturb.
What Twitter user #hoonjay realâs deep analysis of it all says about them, youâre unsure. An odd mix of delight at the thought of other people perceiving you and Jay as happy together, and discomfort at the thought of someone studying you so closely, filming you without your knowing, clash in your head. The more tweets you read, thanking OP for sharing, and bashing OP for the same thing, the more confused you feel. You spend an hour like this, laying in the bed Jay left this morning, scrolling through Twitter and Reddit, refreshing the timeline to read new responses as they come in. More and more people claim to have seen you together, inventing stories about you yelling at Jay in Notting Hill, or kissing him in Piccadilly. All the while, Minjeong continues to text.
minjeong: And you did it in the street WEARIGN MY FUCKING JACKET THIS IS HOW I FIND OUT YOU STOLE MY JACKET??? This is SO embarrassing for me imagine all the people that think Iâm Park Jongseongâs fucking girlfriend because they saw you in my jacket
you: Imagine all the people that think IâM his girlfriend ???
minjeong: Youâre not?
you: Define girlfriend.
minjeong: A frequent or regular female companion in a romantic or sexual relationship
you: Define frequent.
minjeong: I really donât have time for this YN.
minjeong: Are you okay though? Fr
you: Iâm good! People think I have nice hair and good taste in jackets, over the moon rn đ„°
Three dots appear on her side of the chat and your phone vibrates in your palm. Jayâs name and an old photo of him with his hair bleached take over your screen. Jay at twenty-oneâfast asleep in your childhood bed, cuddling your worn Snoopy plushie. âHey, are you home?â
âMhm.â
A sigh comes through the phone, he sounds relieved. âPlease open the door.â Heâs standing on the mat when you do, chewing furiously at his lip. He hugs you and apologises into the crook of your neck. âAre you okay?â
âYes, Jay,â you mumble into his chest. âAre you okay? Are you coming in?â
Jay sighs again, letting his shoulders fall. He assesses your face, still holding you close. âWish I could, baby. Iâm on a potty break,â he says, completely earnest.
âPotty break?â
âLike, restroom? Itâs a long story, but the suits made a slideshââ His phone goes off loudly in his pocket, buzzing between your bodies and making him sigh. âIâll tell you later, alright? I have to get back.â
âLater today?â
Jay shakes his head, pecking your lips. Itâs not enoughâthereâs no such thing with him, so you pull his bottom lip between yours. âDonât want you⊠staying up just for me,â he mumbles, the words warm against your mouth as his hand comes up to hold your cheek.
âYouâre worth it, Jay,â you admit.
He draws a breath, pulling away just enough to look at you. His face softens, a smile on his lips, his eyes on yours. âYouâre cute,â he says softly, thumb brushing over your skin. âIâll think about it.â When his phone goes off this time, it rings. A call. He mutters a curse, pressing his forehead to yours like he might ignore it, like he might stay, then he kisses you once more. âI really have to go.â
âHow about you text me when youâre done and weâll see if Iâm still up?â you suggest.
âAlright, princess. Weâll see.â
And by fire, by force, you are still up at two in the morning when he texts you to say heâs all done at the studio. You open the door to usher a tired Jay to the kitchen, sitting him down at the table where youâve heated up leftovers for him. A slow smile lights up his face and he eats quietly, only breaking to chug water.
Aeri comes into the kitchen, greeting you both with a tired hum before filling her bottle with water from the filter. On the way out, she smacks Jay over the head with a flat palm. âMy loyalty is to YN before itâs to you or Heeseung, okay?â
He winces, clutching the back of his head and nodding. âGot it.â
After food, you wash his dishes while he showers, and he climbs into bed with damp hair, pressing a kiss to your temple. âThank you, thank you, thank you,â he mumbles against your skin. âThank you so much, baby.â
âThank you for coming overâŠâ You trail off. For making time for me, you think but donât say.
âI really am sorry about this whole thing. The photos, people talking⊠Jesus.â Jay sighs, rubbing the back of his neck. âI donât want you worrying about any of this, itâll die down, alright? I promise, shit like this, it always dies down.â
âIâm not worried about any of it, Jay. Promise. Itâs kind of cool how much your fans care, a lot of people really love you,â you say. âIâm just happy youâre okay and that youâre here.â
His lips spread into a smile against your temple. âIâm happy Iâm here too,â he murmurs, pulling you into his chest. Though naturally, because you are you, and he is Jay, your lips find each other anyway. Kissing for an hour like a bunch of teenagers before you fall asleep.
Itâs perfect.
Mostly.
The days leading up to the concert go by similarly, with you and Jay meeting up after his studio sessions or rehearsals. Some nights you hook up, most nights you cuddle and watch the newer seasons of Formula 1: Drive to Survive, which he pauses every two seconds to add his own â very necessary â commentary. Neither of you mention the concert or whatâs going to change when he leaves the day after. Its first mention is on the day of, when he sends you a text.
jongseong đœ: We have about an hour or two downtime before the show if you want to head over during that? So around like 5, yeah? Sunoo can come and meet you and bring you up
you: Sounds good see you sooooonn!
jongseong đœ: See you babyyyyy got soundcheck so talk in a few :D
At a pub youâve never been to, you meet up with Yizhuo to nurse a pint and eat truffle macânâcheese. So much has changed since you last saw her and itâs only been a week and a half. Life has a way of doing thatâflipping things on their head when you least expect it.
âHave you heard back from anywhere?â she asks, clearing her plate. âFrom Interview?â
You deflate, sipping sweet golden nectar from your glass. âNot yet.â
âTry not to look so worried, itâll be good news. I can tell.â
âWhat if it isnât?â The words are impossible to say, a pathetic mumble over the speakers. It feels a bit like admitting defeat. Youâd been relatively optimistic at first, but hardly anyone gets the first job they apply for. Or the first thirty. Creative jobs are hard enough to come by as it is, and after all the difficulty of securing one, the only thing anyone leaves for is the grave. âI canât wait forever, Yizhuo. Iâve got maybe two more months before I need to go and stay with my parents again.â And thatâs if you stop using your redundancy pay for frivolous things like groceries and rent.
âIt wonât get to that. Youâre capable, youâre smart, youâre qualified.â Yizhuo says firmly, squeezing your hand over the sticky tabletop. âJust because things are bad now doesnât mean theyâll be bad forever. Soon, weâll look back at this moment and laugh about it at work drinks. I promise.â
You hope sheâs right. You need her to be right.
When you meet up with Sunoo, he leads you through the venueâs back entrance and to the green room, where Jay and Riki are the only people inside, bickering on the couch. At the sound of the opening door, they quit it, and Jay greets you with a bright grin. His tight-fitting black long sleeve is tucked into his dress pants, and a pair of wire-frame glasses sit on the bridge of his nose. Itâs like seeing God. He hugs Yizhuo first, though in light of #JaysGF-gate and your sharing of the full story, sheâs not his biggest fan at the moment. You however, as evidenced by the last week youâve spent joined at the hip, are more than eager to have Jayâs arms around you.
âHey, beautiful. Howâs your day been?â he asks, pecking your lips.
âGood, Jay. How are you feeling?â
He was a nervous wreck this morning, pacing the length of your bedroom until the absolute last second he had to leave. Now though, he seems relaxed, like heâs left with only excitement for tonight. âBetter now that youâre here,â he admits. It doesnât sound like a line when he says it, but Sunoo mutters, Jesus fucking Christ, before he leaves.
You tease him too, rolling your eyes despite the smile on your face. Despite the fact you feel the same way.
Unfazed, he only smiles wider, holding your jaw and kissing you. He tastes like spearmint, like Jay. âWant me to show you around, baby?â
âYes!â Riki says before you have the chance. âIâve never been backstage before.â
Yizhuo has to grab him by the sleeve, stopping him in his tracks. âNot you, weirdo.â
âYou donât know that.â He yanks his arm from her hold, straightening his denim jacket over his shoulders and running a hand through his hair.
Jay takes you by the hand to give you a tour. Just you. Dressing room, catering, the wings. One small lounge for each of the members. There isnât much inside: a vanity, a couch, a coffee table. His guitar and his bag. All the while, a nervous flicker turns your stomach, anxious like youâre the one about to perform in front of thousands of people.
In the privacy of his locked room, he holds you in his arms, looking down at you. His eyes trail your body, a sweet smile curving his lips. âLook amazing, baby. Always so pretty,â he says, tucking your hair behind your ears.
A different kind of nervousness sets in, classic giddy fluttering, mind racing and trying hard to think of the perfect thing to say at the perfect time. Itâs reassuring, feeling like this again, warm and happyâbitten by the lovebug youâd long stopped believing in. No matter what happens tomorrow, when he leaves, at least you know that feeling can still exist for you. The thought is scary now, but most of those big truths always are in the abstract. Until they happen.
You smile up at him, desperate to live in this moment forever, pushing his hair back from his forehead. âThank you, Jay. So do you,â you say. âMy handsome baby.â
Pink tints his cheeks, eyes wide for a split second. âYou mean it?â
âMhm. Love these glasses too, they make you look all serious, like a sexy professor or something," you joke, startled to find you mean it. âTell me more about changing the subject of a formula, Mr. Park.â
âNo way,â Jay mutters, his hips bucking towards yours. âCanât do this with you right now, baby.â
âCanât do what, Mr. Park?â
He sighs and shakes his head. âBe good, YN. Please.â
âYes, sir.â
And like youâve scalded him, Jay steps away, biting his lip. With his eyes screwed shut, he grabs at the crotch of his pants, adjusting himself before sitting on the couch and patting the cushion next to him. Stepping out of your boots, you curl into his side, playing with his fingers. âYou never told me what happened with the song you guys were working on,â you say, hoping not to pressure him after what you heard at the studio.
Luckily, your question seems to do the opposite, and his face lights up. âWe finalised it this afternoon! Youâll hear it tonight, baby. I really hope you like it.â A knock on the door punctuates his answer, and he has to disappear for hair and makeup while you wait in the green room.
The boys aren't gone for long, but you don't get any time alone with Jay before he has to go on stage. No time to properly process how good he looks with his hair all spiked up. His freckles aren't covered at all, and his black long sleeve fits like a second skin, clinging to every curve and contour on his torso and arms. You can't help but touch him, feeling his sculpted chest and racing heart against your palms.
"You look..." There's no single word you could use to describe him right now, as he looks at you through matte black sunglasses. "I think you're going to have to surgically remove my mouth from you later," you say pressing a kiss to his soft lips, already picturing your evening plans. As if overhearing, excited as well, the crowd roars before starting to sing along to whatever Jungwon is playing through the speakers.
âGood, baby. Thatâs good to hear, Iâm looking forward to it.â Jayâs grip on your waist is firm, holding you as close as possible, tickling the roof of your mouth with his tongue. A breath comes out of him, flustered, eager, happy, and he rests his forehead on yours. âWish me luck?â
Giddy butterflies turn in your stomach, your smile impossible to contain. âGood luck, Mr. Park.â
âMm,â he hums, kissing you again. âI have no plans to go easy on you later, darling.â
Itâs Sunghoon who finally has to pry Jayâs grip away from your waist, a firm tug that does little to quell the burning heat on your cheeks and neck. His transformation takes a split second, going from Park Jongseong, the guy youâve known and wanted all this time, to Jay Park from NAPE, golden under the amber spotlight and singing his heart out. If he wasnât so good, youâd have more time to process how strange it all is, how clear it is that he comes alive on the stage. All of them do. Like theyâre finally doing the exact thing they were put on earth to do.
Song after song, it becomes clear what they mean when they talk about themselves and the fans and the energy. How they meet in the middle, feeding off of each other. Watching it like this, backstage with your friends, it feels like youâve been let in on something unthinkably special. That feeling sticks around for the length of the entire two hour set, amplifying.
The crowd boos when Jay announces that theyâve reached the end of the show. âBut we have one last song for you tonight, something very new and very dear to meââ he says, grinning into his mic when they cheer again. ââIâve been going through a bit of a funk, I guess,â he admits.
In the front row, you see very pretty women frowning, touched to hear about Jayâs hardships â no matter how vague â like theyâre taking them on themselves. Somi squeezes your hand, pointing them out to you and mumbling that theyâre so cute. You agree.
âBut a couple weeks ago, something really special happened for me, and when I finally figured it all out, what it meant to me, I sat up all night working on this song. And the guys and I have been grinding to get it done, so itâs been a long time coming, and we hope you love it. This is Out Sick.â
All of the lights go dim, save for a stark spotlight that shines straight on Jay. The venue holds its breath, and he looks over his shoulder, craning his neck just a bit to find you. When his eyes meet yours, he gives you a smile, soft and warm, your Jongseong in that moment. Your smile is immediate, a second of calm in your pounding heart as he strums the first chord and turns back to the crowd.
You know this song already, its shape. As familiar as the back of your own hand. As Jayâs lips on yours or his hands under your skirt on the couch at Laughing Kitty. Your stomach plummets to the floor, eyes stinging with tears. Sunghoon comes in slowly on the drums, Heeseung and Jakeâs guitars following to make it warm and round and full.
And then, Jay sings, âI donât have to try to love you, it comes easy to meâŠâ
His demo. Complete. And performed so beautifully. His voice is raw, vulnerable, as he bares his soul for everyone, for you, to hear. Heeseungâs harmonies are simple, sweet, a perfect anchor for the song. Theyâre amazing. They are actually amazing. All of them.
As the final note rings out, the lights go dim once again, and applause erupts backstage, your friends squealing and hugging each other while you wait. NAPE donât take long to appear behind the curtain, all four of them a blur of black clothes and adrenaline. Jay doesnât stop to speak with the crew or with the other guys, he comes straight for you. Short strands of his hair slick with sweat, his glasses fogging up as he pulls you into his arms.
âIt was perfect, Jongseong. You were perfect.â
He doesnât say anything, but you feel him smiling into the crook of your neck as his heart thuds against your chest.
Tearing Jay away from the tour kick-off party is easier than you expected. Largely in part due to the fact that heâs the one dragging you through the crowded flat to his bedroom. Music muffles through his door and as soon as the lock clicks shut, you sink to your knees at his feet and Jay gulps when you look up at him, a gentle look on his face, in his eyes, that makes your heart trip in your chestâthat he could look so tenderly at you in this moment seems unreal. Slowly, you unbuckle his belt, unsure who you're teasing more. You undo his zipper. The button.
He cups your cheek with his palm, clearing his throat. "Only if you want to, baby." His voice is soft, delicate as he traces your lips with the pad of his thumb.
You nod. You need to.
Jay's trousers give easily when you pull at them, falling to his ankles. His white underwear stretches over his erection, a dark patch where he leaks onto it. You can't even pretend to resist, tongue finding the spot immediately, and taking his tip between your lips, sucking on it through the wet fabric. Precum seeps into your mouth, the taste of it heady and familiar, leaving you hungry for more.
His hips buck forward, stuffing more of his clothed dick into your mouth, groaning. "My beautiful girl," he mutters, tucking your hair behind your ears. "Still so dirty and all for me, yeah?"
White-hot desperation buzzes along every inch of you. You can't wait any longer. Jay shivers when his leaking tip smacks his stomach, leaving a streak on his toned skin. Oh, my God. When you take him by the base, your hand only just wraps around him, thumb and index finger brushing. "Let me help you, YN." One of his hands covers yours easily, the other holding your head still. "Want my help, don't you, baby?"
All you can do is nod, watching Jay stroke himselfâhelp you to stroke him.
"Say it. Use your words."
"Want you to help meâ" Your mind blanks, that five letter word burning on the tip of your tongue. "Jay," you say instead.
His dick twitches in your fist as he brings his slit to your mouth, spreading hot, sticky precum like gloss over your lips. "Good girl," he whispers, thumb tracing your cheekbone. "Always so good for me."
Molten need pools between your thighs. "Only for you," you admit, words muffled against his tip.
Jay's breath hitches, fingers curling in your hair, then, finally, he stuffs your mouthâstarts to. At an agonising pace. Inch by torturous inch, he pulls you towards him. Watching with furrowed brows and holding his breath as the stretch starts to ache your jaw. Only when his tip brushes the back of your throat, making you gag, does he let out a breath, a ragged, whiny thing, torn from him. Hearing him like this, being the cause of it, never gets old. Never fails to flip your stomach.
Chest heaving, eyes fluttering shut, he throbs in your mouth when you stroke the part of him that won't fit. "Fuck," he whispers. "Fuck, baby. Too good, need a â fuck â need a minute." He pulls out, looking down at you like he's confused, like he can't make sense of the thick string of spit and precum that attaches your lips to his tip.
Can't make sense of the way you kiss it anyway, lapping up the mess from his slit with your tongue. Every word that follows is a whined curse, his legs shaking as his grip on your hair lets up. Your name comes out of him, a stern mutter that makes you press your thighs together. Even so, you keep going, licking a strip from his tip to his base, thick hair tickling your face when you suck on his balls.
"Shit, YN," he mumbles, watching you with squinting eyes, shivering while you stroke him. "So good, baby."
Kissing your way back up to his tip, you take him in, letting your hollowed cheeks pull him further. He's twitching already, erratic on your tongue, low grunts and shallow breaths coming from him. This time when he says your name, it's gentle, sweet, as he rocks his hips to fuck into your mouth in shuddered strokes. Over and over, he moans for you, the sound of it lighting you up, spurring you on to take him deeper, quicker.
His stomach tenses, thighs shaking until he bucks hard against you, coming straight down your throat, hot and thick, without warning, making you cough. It leaks from the corners of your mouth, rolling down your chin, warm on your chest. Jay moans at the sight, licking his lips while you swallow what you can, still working your fist over him. Bracing against the door behind you, he lets out a cry of your name that drives you mad, loud and unbidden, as he trembles.
When he pulls out, his dick hits his legs with a loud squelch. Spit and cum drip off of him, wetting your thighs and making a mess.
You can hardly catch your breath or wipe your mouth before Jay's kneeling in front of you, pressing his lips to yours. Pressing your body to his. "My sweet, sweet baby," he mumbles, licking into your mouth. Teeth bump teeth. Tongues on tongues. "Way too good to me." He pulls you into his lap, cock wet under you. Something about the feeling of it like this, soft and pressed against your thong, twists your stomach.
Taking him in your fist, you thumb at his slit, and he whimpers. "Need it. You, Jay," you tell him, stroking desperately.
At this point, the wet smack of his mouth on yours can hardly be described as a kiss, but he keeps at it. "I'll give you what you want, I promise," Jay says, pushing your hand away and running his finger over your slit. "But I can't right now." He sounds truly apologetic, distraught and whiny as he presses on your clit.
Relief comes immediately, but it's not enough, when he slips his finger into you and fills you to the knuckle. Still, you chase pleasure, fucking yourself on his thick digit, humming at the stretch of another finger pressing in. "Yes, right now."
Against your mouth, Jay smiles. "Want you ready, yeah? Don't wanna hurt you," he coos, a third finger joining the rest.
"You won't," you whisper. "Please, Jongseong."
On this, he concedes. On not using a condom, howeverâŠnot so much. Laying you down on the bed, he undresses you before pulling his own shirt off. Now that he's had a beat to collect himself â free from your eager hands â he's hard again, standing up taller than before. His tip not just flushed but angry red and leaking. At the very least, he lets you roll the condom onto him before joining you under the covers and hiking your leg up over his hip.
"You're gonna kill me," he mutters into your neck, pressing himself against you, right between your wet folds. So close yet so far. "Gonna die if you keep this up."
"If you're going to die anyway, you might as well take the condom off," you point out, rocking towards him. "For old time's sake, you know? Last night, two nights agoâthe good old days." It was a lack of condoms that led you there, to Jay whispering sweet filth in your ear while he spilled into you.
"Very funny, YN." His breath fans your skin when he chuckles. There's no humour in it, but he throbs between your legs, rolls his hips back to match your rhythm. "Can't keep chancing it." You can hear his resolve fading, his lack of conviction.
"Don't you think I'd look pretty? All nice and full?"
His teeth sink into the crook of your neck, making you cry out. "Don't," he mumbles, soothing the bite mark with his tongue.
"Used to â fuck, Jay â talk about it all the time." You're panting more than you're talking, eyes fluttering shut as your sweat slicked skin slips over his. "Lost your shit when I'd call you daâ" He cuts you off with his dick. Finally.
You moan in unison, eyes screwing shut as he thrusts into you, filling you up with one shaky stroke. There's no getting used to the size of Jay. Whether he's fucking you with it or sending a video, it shocks you every time. It's like he's trying to split you in half to make room for himself, thick heat spreading, unbearable, from between your legs out. He doesn't move yet.
"All good, baby? Feels good?" he pants, burying his face into your throat.
You nod into his pillow, gasping for breath, only managing to say, "Uh huh."
A low groan heats your neck when you claw at Jay's back and he pulls almost all the way out before thrusting right back in. "So good for me, YN. Fit so good, baby. Always fit so good." He fucks you with the same strokes each time, even when his breath turns ragged, pulling you closer and closer to the edge. Tip on the burning knot in your stomach, nudging it undone, one deep thrust after the other.
You bury your face in the pillow, biting down on it, as he brings you to your orgasm like this. Finger pressed to your clit, teeth nipping your neck, hips rutting frantically. He fucks you through it, wet and overwhelming, scorching heat tearing through you. The memory foam muffles your mewls and whiny babbles, and he groans when you tug his hair, muttering, oh, my God, over and over, until he finishes with a loud cry of your name, shuddering in and out of you.
Calming down is difficult, but Jay's hand stroking your hair is a comfort. Lips pressing sweet kisses to your jaw and muttering praise into your skin. Again, you find those three words on the tip of your tongue, eight letters eager to make their way out. They don't have a chance, thankfully, because he pulls out slowly, moving just enough to kiss your lips. His tongue brushes yours, wiping your I love you away, taking it for himself, and smiling against you like you actually said it. Like he's saying it back.
Sleepiness overwhelms you, eyelids heavy, lips lazy on Jay's. After you pee, he wipes you clean with a warm towel, kissing your knee while he does. Falling asleep is easy in his arms, with the steady rise and fall of his chest under your head, butterflies swirling in your stomach, and the knowledge that the terrifying and uncertain tomorrow is still hours away.
When you wake up, no music seeps into Jayâs room, no heavy footsteps in the hall. No doors slamming shut, no yelled conversations. The flat is completely still. Even the street outside is quiet through the open window, Londonâs morning running on silent. Soft cotton kisses your skin, detergent and sweat float around you. Sunlight streaks the wall, slipping through the gaps in the blinds. Jayâs fingers twirl the ends of your hair. His voice, low and gravelly from sleep, asks, âYou sleep alright?â
Alright isnât enough of a word for how well you slept. Youâre not even sure if perfect would suffice, but you nod anyway. âDid you?â
âMm.â He squeezes your shoulder, holding you closer. âPerfect, darling.â
I wish we could just stay here forever, you think. Saying it is another story. âDo you really have to go?â you ask instead, knowing heâll have to leave soon to make his flight.
You hear the spread of Jayâs lips and see the curve, his perfect teeth, his smile lines and dimple, so perfectly clear behind your closed eyes. His hand is heavy on your arm, his fingertips warm and calloused, dragging senseless patterns into your skin. âIâll be back before you know it,â he mumbles. âPromise.â
Resting your arms on his chest, you finally get a proper look at him. His hair sticks up in tiny spikes all over his head, pointing this way and that. A smile creeps over his lips, slight and sleepy, but warm all the same. How desperately you want this all to be something, to mean something. Now and when he gets back. The soft look in his eyes, the relaxed lull of his breath, chest rising and falling slowly under you, his hand on your back. How desperately you want this to be something more than simply blowing off steam before he goes on the road.
âWhat is it, baby? What are you thinking?â Jay asks, using his thumb to smooth out the crease over your brow. His touch is unthinkably gentle, but it ties your stomach in knots.
The words are right there, slipping from your mind and taking their juvenile shape on the tip of your tongue. What are we? It seems absurd to think that he could leave, even if only for a few months, without asking that questionâbut picturing yourself asking him is worse.
âItâs nothing.â
Jayâs lips curl downwards and the sight tugs at your heart. He kisses the palm of his hand and presses it to your forehead like a stamp, making you giggle, before his fingers find your hair, scratching your scalp. You could fall asleep again, your eyelids weighing more and more with each graze of his nails against your skin. He smiles, finally, he smiles when you lean into his touch.
âYou could always come with me,â Jay suggests. âIf you want.â
If you were even a little more secure about your place in his life, those three words â if you want â wouldnât be so jarring. Wouldnât turn your stomach or make you want to roll your eyes and ask, what the fuck kind of an answer is that?
âWhat do you want?â you ask instead.
âI want you to do what you want.â
You sigh, a deep breath torn out of you and into the silence.
âWhat do you want me to say? What am I getting wrong?â
Feeling bad, you shake your head. âNothing, Jay. Itâs nothing, I swear,â you try to assure him, but you can see his thoughts passing through his head. You canât stand it. Canât stand to think about whatever comes after this, after he leaves.
You lean up and kiss him to stall the inevitable, warmed by the low sound he makes, by the way he pulls you into his lap. Warmed by the feeling of him under you, hard already. His lips are slow against yours, tongue licking lazily into your mouth and sighing when you roll your hips over his.
âTell me, baby,â he says, lips barely leaving yours. âCanât fix it if you donât tell me.â
When you pull away, his eyes search yours, a million questions written all over his face. His cheek is soft beneath your palm, thumb stroking his skin, and itâs all you can do to hope this wonât be the last time. âFix what, Jay?â Your voice comes out small, frightened. âWhat is this?â
Say it, you beg silently. Say you want me. Say that this is everything.
He bites his lips instead. Says nothing.
âDo you still want me?â you ask around the lump in your throat. âProperly?â
Jayâs brows knit together. âI feel like I should be asking you that. I donât know how else to show you.â
âI canât go with you, Jay.â Saying it feels final, like youâve drawn a line under whatever the hell you two have been doing, and he will leave for his tour and come back and this will still be over.
âI didnât ask you to.â
Before you can help it, your face falls, lips curling downwards, and Jay wraps his fingers around your wrist to keep your hand on his cheek. He jumps to take it back, to fix it, but youâre not sure if he can.
âThatâs not whatâŠâ He sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. âI shouldnât have said it like that. Can we just⊠Can we take a second?â His cheeks are flushed, skin rosy and warm under your hand, his eyes wide, pink lips pressed together. âI just need a minute,â he adds softly. âIâll be right back, yeah, baby?â
You nod and Jay kisses you quick, gentle, before slipping into the bathroom and locking the door behind him. It doesnât take long for you to make up your mind. To put your clothes on and stuff your bra into your bag, turning your phone off on your way out of the flat.
At home, you get straight into bed, pulling the duvet up to cover you completely.
Twenty-year-old you would be mortified if she could see you now: twenty-three, unemployed, and still worrying about the same problems you had three years ago, about the same guy. Surely by now, having known him all this time, known yourself, you should have seen this coming a mile away.
Sleep comes easily like this, moping under your covers like a kid.
By the time you wake up, itâs well into the afternoon and you turn on your phone to one new notification. A text from Aeri asking you to check if her parcel has come yet. Nothing from anyone else, from Jay. He and the rest of the guys are probably in the security queue, fumbling laptops out of bags and shoes off of feet. Chatty and excited and too busy to spare you a second thought, to send a textâwhich, maybe, given how you walked out, thatâs what you deserve. Youâre even now though, you and Jay. And it doesnât feel good at all.
As if youâd willed it, wished it so much it came to be, your phone vibrates next to you on the mattress. Not a text, an email. Itâs from Interview, with the subject line: Offer of Employment.
The smile that breaks over your face is instantaneous and aching, tears welling in your eyes as you read and reread the first line of the email. As you read and reread the whole thing, closing the app and opening it again, waiting for something to change, for a second email to come in saying thereâs been a mistake. But no. The word congratulations stays right where it is. A job. An actual job that you get to start in a month when the office renovation is complete. Itâs a weight off your chest, a blinding ray of light in the face of countless rejection emails.
When you open the phone app, Jongseong đœ, is right at the top, and it takes your thumb hovering over it to even realise what youâre doing. This week-long instinct, relearned and deep as marrow. I need to call Jay, I need to tell Jay, now your default thought. Again, your default thought.
The silence of the flat feels greater, bed bigger without him in it. As quickly as it came, your delight sours, curdling in the pit of your stomach. Everything youâve been working towards, the fruit of your efforts finally reaped, and the one person you want to tell all about it, is the one person whoâd care the least.
Locking your phone, you press the cool top of it to your forehead and take a deep breath. This is okay. Youâre okay. Youâre great! You have a job, finally, an actual named and recognised role. And itâs all yours.
Feeling lighter, if only a little, you get up to check the mail room, stuffing your feet back into your boots and pulling the front door open. Jay is there. Here. He looks like heâs run a marathon just to stand on your welcome mat, cap on backwards and his suitcase at his side. Sweat shines on his upper lip, his neck. His eyes are wide, brows raised like heâs surprised to find you here, at your flat, where you live. Nothing comes out when you open your mouth to speak, but your name comes from his in a whisper.
âI canât go.â His voice cracks when he says it, making him smile. âI couldnât, we got to the gate and IâI canât leave if weâre like this. I love you, YN. I do. So much. Iâm a coward, okay? Iâm a coward and Iâm awful at all of this, but I love you.â The words leave him in a rush, and he sighs after like heâs relieved, like the words have been weighing on him all this time. âI know how much Iâve hurt you, and I know I canât make it up to you, but Iâd like to try.â
Your heart races in your chest like itâs trying to burst out, thoughts scattered, too fast to latch onto, to process. You need to say something, you know that much. âI wanted to call you,â you utter, pointing at him as though maybe he doesnât know to whom youâre referring. âI got the job at Interview.â
To this, he lets out a sound youâve never heard him make. A half-laugh, half-sob as he takes your pointing hand in his, pulling you in. âOf course you did,â he says, the words a warm mumble against the top of your head. âFuck, YN, thatâsâthatâs amazing. Youâre amazing.â He holds you so tight you can feel the frantic pounding of his heart against your chest. The frantic pounding of your own heart. For a long moment, you bury your face in his chest, taking it all in. His scent, honey and detergent and sweat. The grounding feel of him, his arms around you, his palm stroking your back, mouth kissing your hair.
Reality, everything heâs just said sinks in, slow and heavy. Jay, here, with you, again. At last. And saying all the right things, saying almost everything youâve been waiting years to hear. Meaning them. Too good be true surely, the job and now this, and all in a matter of minutes. You pull back, only enough to look at him with your palms flat on his shoulders, and wait. For the other shoe to drop. For Jay to glance at his watch and realise he can still make his flight if he leaves right this second. It doesnât come. He doesnât even look over his shoulder, his eyes are stuck on you. Only you.
âWhat are youâwhat do you want?â
âI want to be with you, and I want you to want that too. Still, again, whatever, just⊠youâre it for me,â Jay says decisively. âYouâre always going to be it for me.â
Whether he knows it or not, he changes your life with those words. He changes everything. Quiets the years of chaos in your mind and finally, finally calms the storm.
âYes, Jay. Whatever youâre saying or asking, my answer is yes, okay? I love you, Jay. I love you too, I love you still, all of it.â You tip your chin to kiss his smiling lips, and after all this time, your heart falls back into its natural rhythm.
Jongseong, Jongseong, Jongseong.
© zreamy (2026), all rights reserved. do not repost, translate, or plagiarise my work. do let me know your thoughts !
permanent tag list: @asahicore @ikeublr @loverseon @dreamy-carat @littlefluu @cherrymxxnie @mrloverboy3000 @blooqz @immortalonie @enhastolemyheart @fancypeacepersona @heatrache @kxwinasblog @kimjkejyy @anofi @hauteyun @kristynaaah @cheerrxy
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äž currently working on ;
title tbd - nicholas x reader - workplace au, friends to enemies to enemies with benefits to lovers lmao - expected 40k... currently 14k
It wasnât always like this. As you scream your head off at the man in front of you, an accusing finger pointed at him, berating him for something he did at work earlier â or something he said just now, you canât seem to remember â this is what you think, that it wasnât always like this. There used to be a time you could look at Nicholas Wang without wanting to smash his head against a wall. There used to be a time you could look at him and feel something akin to happiness.
title tbd - anton x reader - college au, younger brother's best friend anton, swimmer anton, friends to lovers - expected 20k, currently 5k
When the course Anton had picked up because he thought it'd be an easy pass turns out to be much harder, so much so that he fails it, he has to retake it the following semester. Good thing for him that you, his best friend's older sister, major in that subject, and happens to live on the same floor as him. Or: between swim meets, tutoring sessions, and frat parties, you realize that the sweet, quiet boy you remember from your high school days has grown a lot.
... and more !
blocking serial likers is interesting like... sorry for enjoying your work i guess i'll do it more quietly
I'll try to put this as kindly as I can.
I feel really uncomfortable having to repeat this over and over again, but let's please accept this as a hard fact once and for all: creators depend on feedback to keep creating, otherwise they cannot know if someone is enjoying their work and whether they should keep going.
Case in point: If it weren't for this passive aggressive ask, I would have no idea you were enjoying my work. I wish you had instead sent one to tell me that, or dropped a comment that said, "Hey, I enjoyed this!"
In case you may not be familiar with how Tumblr works, I'll try to explain:
Here, đ does not mean "I like this" like it does on Instagram or TikTok. Tumblr works on reblogs (even if it's blank), which means sharing. In the context of fics, leaving likes may translate into, "This isn't worth sharing, but have a like I guess". People may interpret it as they aren't good enough.
(No one can discern if you read the work or just bookmarked it, which is why it's not advised to like stuff to make a tbr shelf. If you don't wanna reblog with a #tbr tag, here's an idea: hit the reblog button but don't post, save it in your drafts instead. You can find everything you want to read in one place now.)
But when you like everything back to back, you are confusing them because... if it's good enough to binge, can't you spare a reblog to tell them "Kudos! I had a great time"?
There used to be an established feedback culture in the Tumblr fanfiction community. It was the norm to engage with authors about their work (through reblogs, comments, asks...) because everybody knew fandom is cyclical. It's give-and-take. If you give one, the author will very enthusiastically give back two. They knew engagement didn't mean "Part 2?", it meant a genuine conversation and reaction to the stories. There are works that come out of 3-year hiatuses just because someone sent a comment to the author, it's that powerful.
Isn't this why we created blogs here in the first place? To be social?
Then an influx of new users from other social platforms arrived, and that was when the relentless passive consumption started. Because these users thought (some still think, like yourself) Tumblr works just like other social platforms. It doesn't. At the expense of annoying my long-time readers, I frequently shared reminders on what not to do. I genuinely assumed, "I think these people are new and simply don't know. Surely it can't be the same people willingly ignoring what authors are vocally begging for."
So many amazing writers left because of this passive consumption, and they still do. I tried being nice about it; it didn't work. I tried being aggressive about it; it didn't work. I flat-out begged; it didn't work. I got so frustrated with not being heard that I put it on my bio, pinned post, library post, taglist form, member-specific masterlists in large header font, and I still get ignored every day. Every day.
I've run out of ways to deal with it, and I'm exasperated. What will it take for you to please hear me?
So yes, I block serial likers because it is a form of silent reading. Yes, I selfishly want my work to exist for readers who are willing to engage with me. Yes, I criminally want to write for readers who don't treat me like a content machine and remember that I am a human being with feelings.
I can't put out 15k every other day like some do because I write my work myself.
All that is to say, if you were truly enjoying my work, I just wish you'd let me know. If you think it's too much hassle to at least press one (1) button to show appreciation for something you enjoy, I invite you to please reconsider for other authors you may like. This is a rampant issue that is extremely demotivating, and by keeping quiet, you are slowly driving organic writers away from something they love.
And I would prefer it if my flowerbeds didn't turn into a wasteland of ai slop.
Thanks.
This. Literally this. Genuinely what a writing community is supposed to be about.
âIâll enjoy it more quietlyâ
âIâm a silent readerâ
âI was scared to send a messageâ
Then enjoy no more writing from me.
In the start of my being here I watched sooo many talented writers leave this space, and I thought, oh no, is that what happens??? I watched incredible writers leave âcause they feel like âthey suckâ or that what they write isnât good enough. Doubting themselves because of the silence.
You think authors write books from silence?? You think blockbuster movies are created because of silence?? You think any community survives in silence??
Imagine standing in a room full of people, saying something out loud, and everyone gives you a side eye, and ignores you.
It is Not hard to leave the tiniest comment. An emoji. A âloved thisâ. To let us writers know that you were here. That you enjoyed something.
What are you scared of? What are you embarrassed for? You think us authors are going to swat you through the screen?? One simple comment or message I guarantee you (at least personally) will have your author JUMPING for joy and sooo incredibly giddy. You will make their day. You will have them thinking about your message/comment for the rest of the week.
Iâve heard of some readers comments SAVING the story. SAVING the fic. SAVING the writer and pulling them back into their work.
It is NOT that hard. And in a writing community, writers shouldnt have to beg.
Give and Take. Give and fucking Take.
You canât keep taking. Weâll have nothing left to give.
this. this is why I don't feel like writing on here anymore even though I love writing and I love ateez. you both put all my thoughts and feelings into words and I can't thank you enough <3333
JAY for GENTLE MONSTER's Circuit Collection ph. Jang Jungwoo for GQ KOREA
who else up still feeling the presence of god on the inkigayo stage
of all the people in the world - sjy (m)
pairing. sim jaeyun x reader
synopsis. You know you should be ecstatic about the invitation to Chaewonâs and Jaeminâs wedding in your mailbox, but you canât help the nerves gnawing away at your stomach. There are too many things youâve left unresolved after moving to Seoulâyour aunt, your friends, and most of all Sim Jaeyun, the boy youâve never let yourself love.
genre. childhood/high school friends that grow apart to lovers, angsty fluff, small town au, mutual pining bc they're idiots, this is kind of like hometown but different i promise, SMUT MDNI !!!!
warnings. characters are aged up (late 20s), reader is a little clueless but she's doing her best okay, family issues and family member death, jake is exclusively referred to as jaeyun deal with it
word count. 35.3k
author's note. listen to the playlist here + as always a big thank you to @zreamy for beta reading this and freaking out over jaeyun!!! happy very very late birthday can't wait to name my firstborn child after you... Zreamy Lee what a beautiful name... im sure anton will be stoked when i let him know!
Most of the time When he looks at me I change my mind And I donât think he even cares a bit How much I have to give Just as long as Iâm awake To love him every day [...] Of all the people in the world [He] says my name the best Most of the Time, Jackie Evans
From his seat on the couch, Jaeyun stares at the golden inflated balloons spelling out âCongratulations, Y/N!â on the wall of your auntâs living room. The more he stares, the more the capital letters seem to be mocking him.Â
He allows himself one last moment of selfishness, during which he thinks the last thing he wants to do, today or ever, is to congratulate you on getting your one-way ticket out of this town. He downs his fruit punch and winces at the overly sweet, artificial taste, then marches towards the crowd around you, trying on different smiles that might seem convincing. None of them fit.
August is nearing its end already. Summer has always felt lazy, molasses-slow, pleasantly neverending to Jaeyunâthis year, it blinked by him. He closed his eyes as the schoolbell rang for their last ever period; he opens them again and he is here. Wasnât prom just yesterday? Graduation? Did he realize that the last bonfire party was just that, the last?Â
Your birthday isnât for another week, but youâre leaving tomorrow. Everyone huddles around you, eagerly awaiting your reaction as you open gifts. If it wasnât for the presents and the chocolate fudge cake waiting in the fridge, this wouldnât be a birthday party so much as a going-away party. The dreadful words on your wall make that clear: everyone here knows youâre much happier about leaving than about turning eighteen. You said so yourself a few days earlier, and Jaeyun tried his hardest not to burst into tears.
âI can celebrate my birthday every year. Iâll only get accepted into the program of my dreams once.âÂ
You were sitting, just the two of you, atop one of the hills that overlooked your town. Jaeyun knew that when you looked out, you already saw your past, while he could only see his whole life, past, present and future indistinguishable from each other, spreading out for miles and miles and miles.Â
Up until a few months ago, when Jaeyun looked at you, he could only see his whole life. But ever since you received your acceptance letter, he hasnât been so sure. He watched as you celebrated leaving him behind, stayed silent as you raved about your plans for the future. Plans he wasnât a part of. These past months have been the only time seeing you smile made him sad.
He stays at the back of the small crowd, close enough to make out your presents as you unwrap them but not quite joining in. Hands in his back pockets, he wears his best neutral expressionäžif he canât fake a smile, he can at least try and not look so depressed. As your friend, he owes you that much. He might hate every moment of this but heâd feel even worse, knowing he was raining on your parade.
You seem to like your gifts. After spending your teenage years together, your friends know what you like. Scented candles, cute notebooks that youâll probably keep preciously rather than actually use, a personalized calendar for the upcoming school year with a different picture of you and your loved ones every month. Jaeyun shows up a few times in group pictures; itâs just the two of you in April, which is too far away for his liking. Far away enough for you to have forgotten all about him.
As you flip through the calendar, despite your friendsâ protest for the pictures to be a surprise each month, itâs on April that you linger the most. Thereâs a small smile on your face, a sad smile. Your fingers play with the pendant on your necklace, Jaeyunâs gift that he gave you before everyone else even arrived. It was too intimate a gift for him to hand it to you in front of all your friends. He almost died of embarrassment when your eyebrows rose at the sight of the delicate, silver chain, of the letter âJâ hanging off it, and it was just the two of you; if anyone else had been in the room, his shyness wouldâve gotten the best of him, and the jewelry box wouldâve stayed safely tucked in his coat pocket.
You lift your gaze towards him. He didnât even know youâd noticed him joining everyone, and yet your eyes found him immediately. He has no idea what on Earth is going through your head. Are you finally realizing that the days of seeing each other every single day are over? Are you finally figuring him out, how it isnât only friendship that has kept him by your side all these years, but the feeling deep in his gut that he gets whenever he thinks of you?
Do you have that feeling, too?
Your eyes shine. For a second, Jaeyun thinks you might start to cry. Then someone, Miji or Yurim, who knows, says that sheâs on the next page. Your gaze falls back to the calendar in your hands. Your fingers let go of your necklace, and you flip Jaeyunâs page.
.
.
A tight ball of dread has been sitting in your stomach ever since you got that letter in the mail. Youâve tried to rationalize it many ways: it feels weird to receive a wedding invitation, the first from someone out of your childhood group of friends. Even more so when that someone is the girl you called your best friend for all of your teenage years, but you arenât sure you deserve that title anymore. Even more so when youâre 28 and couldnât be further from drafting a wedding invitation yourself.
You know what it really is: itâs the address for the reception, the name of a place in which you havenât set foot in years blinking innocently up at you. Itâs the second piece of paper inside the envelope, a handwritten note asking you to come a few days earlier so that all of you âcan gather just like the good old times.â
Iâm getting married, Y/N. Iâm turning into a proper adult. I just want one last time of feeling like a sixteen year old, and I canât have that without you here. Say youâll be there, pretty please? XX
You remember sighing after reading that note, your brain already coming up with excuses to justify your future absence, fully aware that you wouldnât miss this wedding for the world.Â
Damn Chaewon, you thought then, and still regularly think now. Damn her and her emotional manipulation, as youâve decided to view it, forcing you to make that dreaded trip homeânot that you really consider that place home anymore.
It was a wonder that you and Chaewon were such good friends back then, good enough to still keep in touch throughout your adult lives. Just like every baby in the family, she was born in the upstairs bedroom of their home, the mayorâs daughter, known and loved by everyone in town, and had always adored her small-town life. You showed up out of nowhere at age fourteen, initially making no effort to befriend anyone, annoyed by the whispers that followed you. You wanted to leave as soon as you arrived, and you eventually did; although along the way, Chaewonâs kind-heartedness melted even your ice walls, and you gradually opened the gates to let the other kids in.
For almost a decade, youâve been working to close those gates again. You were almost there; they were barely agape, there was just that tiny thread that kept an infinitesimal part of you tethered to that place, and you were sure it was close to snapping. Chaewon and her damn wedding invitation pushed the gates back open, and it took you all your strength to not look back and walk through again.
You left something there, and you arenât sure youâre ready to retrieve it.Â
The ball of dread, as though tethered to a chain around your ankle, wonât stop following you. Up until now, you hadnât noticed how much everything around you seemed to revolve around romance. The TV you watched. The content on your phone. Couples in the street. Even your work was full of it. Youâre the editor for the Culture and Media segment of Limelight Monthly, the magazine you work at, not Relationships or even Lifestyle, and yet, in the weeks after receiving the invitation, it felt like all your staff could write about were the latest romance novels everyone raved about online, the best reality TV shows about exes getting back together or forever-singles searching for their first love, and which destinations were the most romantic for couples to travel to this summer.Â
You do a good job hiding it at first. Although youâre not as focused as you usually are reading your staffâs articles to greenlight them for publication, two years of doing this job means no typos or clunky sentences pass you by. You make sure to greet everyone with your usual cheer, and you donât miss any Thursday evening afterwork drinks, a tradition of your teamâs. Most of the time, youâre able to relegate Chaewonâs wedding and everything it entails to the back of your mind, but itâll come back up at random moments. Youâll be filling the kettle for tea in the communal kitchen when a certain face will fill the forefront of your thoughts; your heart will start beating uncontrollably, and before you know it, water will be overflowing from the kettle and onto your hands. Youâll stare at the awfully familiar name of a book character in one of your coworkersâ reviews and only snap out of it once someoneâs called your name three times in a row, like being summoned out of a trance.Â
These moments are few and far between, but they add up. When your coworkers ask you whether everythingâs okay, at first, itâs lighthearted, like theyâre just curious about what got you so lost in your thoughts. Slowly, eyebrows start to furrow, concern starts creeping in their eyes and voice. Youâre one zone-out away from an intervention. A few days ago, you overheard Juhee and Haewon, your teamâs two most recent recruits, whispering in the break room about their concern for your well-being: âI think she goes home and just, I donât know, has takeaway and white wine in front of her TV.â
Theyâre wrong about the takeaway. Youâre actually a pretty decent cook. The rest of their sentiment, however⊠Well.
It takes Minjeong, your favorite coworker-turned-friend, a couple of weeks before she decides to take matters into her own hands. One Tuesday after work, she waits for you outside the buildingâs main entrance, and as soon as you step outside, grabs your wrist and drags you to the subway station thatâll lead both of you to her apartment. âIâm making you chicken alfredo and youâre telling me what the hell is wrong with you,â she says before you can protest.
You wrench your wrist out of her grasp, shrug on the bag strap that had fallen off your shoulder with a discontented huff, and follow her anyway. âFine, but Iâm only coming for the chicken alfredo.â
âIâll tie you down to the chair until you speak.â
âKinky.â
She halts dead in her tracks in the middle of the busy street, ignoring the nasty stares from the other homebound office workers heading for the station. She turns to face you, wearing a severe expression. âIâve known you for five years, and youâve never cried in front of me. Not even when we watched Titanic.â
Nonplussed, you reply, âI already knew how it ended.â
âThatâs not the point. Itâs usually impossible to get a read on you, so when not one or two, but three people come up to me and ask whether youâre alright, that means somethingâs seriously wrong. Iâd be a terrible friend if I didnât try to find out what that was.â
You hesitate. Youâre embarrassed that youâve been so obvious, and that youâre even this upset in the first place. Who on Earth has such a hard time being happy about her childhood best friendâs upcoming wedding? Your first reaction shouldâve been to call Chaewon and rave with her and ask for all the details. You should be sending her pictures of potential dresses and asking her which one fits her color palette the best. You shouldnât be needing the aforementioned intervention.
It isnât like you have to follow Minjeong and air your dirty laundry out to her. If it came to it, your couple inches over her might help you win a physical fight. But something about her sincere concern makes you foldâhow long has it been since you let someone worry about you like this? Long enough that you forgot how nice it feels, apparently.
She must sense a shift in your demeanor, because she relaxes. âLetâs go,â she says, and this time, she doesnât need to drag you with her.
From the moment you met Minjeong, you knew she came from money. It wasnât that she flaunted it or appeared out-of-touch with reality; she just had a way of moving through the world with the air of confidence of someone who knew they belonged, who was used to getting what they wanted. It also helped that she often came to work with a new designer bag and always had flawless hair and nails.
It intimidated you at first, the way she seemed to have worked in this office her whole life, whereas it took you weeks before you stopped being so eager to please and be overly polite with everyone. But it quickly became clear that although you found her infinitely cool, she wasnât cold. You didnât work for the same segment, but you spent your lunch breaks together, getting scolded by your respective bosses more than once for coming back half-an-hour late; you would often be so busy talking, you wouldnât keep track of the time.
But it wasnât until you stepped inside her apartment for the first time that you realized just how wealthy she, or her family, was. She lived in one of the fanciest neighborhoods of town, in an apartment that you could hardly afford now as an editor, let alone when you were just starting out at the magazineâyet sheâd been living there since graduating from university. Itâs on the top floor of a brand new apartment complex and composed of three bedrooms and two bathrooms, a ridiculously large open plan kitchen and living room, and a balcony with possibly the best view over the city youâve ever seen. Her furniture looked and felt expensive, and it made you dizzy trying to figure out how much the artwork that hung on her walls and decorated her shelves mustâve cost. To this day, you havenât been brave enough to ask.
When you step inside her apartment today, she wastes no time before ordering you to sit at the kitchen island. You watch as she grabs a bottle of wine from the fridge, hesitates, then puts it back. Instead, she grabs a bottle of gin and an unopened one of tonic from a cupboard, two glasses and some ice from the freezer. You smile and sit silently as she expertly pours two drinks. âHere,â she says, sliding a glass towards yours. âI thought you might want something stronger.â
âShould I be worried you just have this on hand?â you tease.
She rolls her eyes. âItâs for emergencies like these, obviously.â You clink your glasses and take a wonderful sip. Then, she looks you straight in the eyes and says, âSo, tell me whatâs been on your mind.â
So you do.
You tell her about the wedding invitation and what it entails: travelling back to the town you used to live in, having to face everyone you left behind there. You keep things vague. You donât name names, or dump your entire backstory on her; you simply tell her you didnât have the best relationship with your aunt when you left, and phone calls between the two of you have been few and far between in the time youâve moved away. And that this goes for a few other people from home, namely one other person.
Of course, this isnât enough for Minjeong. She prods, and prods, and prods, until you finally give in. With a sigh and a heavy gulp of your wine, you ask, âWhere do you even want me to start?â
She smiles. âFrom the beginning.â
You stare each other off for a few beats. Even as your instincts tell you to keep your mouth shut, a small voice at the back of your mind says, For once, why not?
âI donât⊠talk about this,â you say, voice shaky.
Worry knots Minjeongâs eyebrows together. âIs it that bad?â
âItâs not that itâs bad,â you reply quickly to reassure her. âI just donât like even thinking about it. So talking about it⊠Well, that forces me to think about it, doesnât it?â
âListen,â Minjeong says, walking over to your side of the island, resting her hand over yours. âIf you really donât want to talk about it, I wonât force you. But from what I can tell, itâd do you some good.â She takes a deep breath, then speaks all in one go. âAlso Iâm dying to know. Iâm not supposed to tell you this but everyone at the office has a theory about where you come from because you never talk about it.â
When you gasp, she shakes her head and squeezes your hand. âI promise everything said here will stay here. Iâd derive much more satisfaction from being the only one knowing about your past than blabbing about it to everyone anyway.â
For some reason, this works on you. Maybe Minjeong feels trustworthy enough. Or maybe you know sheâs right, you know itâll do you good to speak about it, to release some of the burden.
âOkay.â
You really do start from the beginning, and work your way up from there. Why you had to move to Gimcheon without your parents. Why it was difficult living with your aunt, and why you could hardly make friends at first. Why it was your sole goal in life to move back to Seoul at eighteen, and why with every passing year, the thought of leaving became harder and harder. Why you did it anyway.Â
What it cost you.
It feels strange to speak so much at once, and about yourself. Minjeong is plating dinner as youâre wrapping your story up. She has so many questions, it takes you almost an hour to finish your food. But you find yourself readily answering every one of them; youâve gone this far already, so you might as well give her the fullest picture you can.
Oddly enough, itâs perhaps her easiest question that has you hesitating the most. Itâs the end of the night, and youâre surprised your eyes have stayed dry throughout it; but when she asks you this, your nose starts to prickle.
âWhatâs this guyâs name, anyway? Weâve talked so much about him, and youâve only referred to him as your friend.â
You canât help but smile even as the word tugs sharply on your heartstrings.Â
âJaeyun.â
.
.
As the date of the wedding approaches, the tight knot of nerves in your stomach grows bigger. The evening before your flight, it takes you hours to fall asleep, your packed suitcase next to your bed startling you every time you lay eyes on it. You sleep fitfully for three hours, then a never-ending loop of worst-case scenarios plays in your head as you go through the motions of getting yourself ready and to the airport. An older woman sits next to you on the plane; anxiety must be emanating from you like a bad odor for her to rest a kind hand on your shoulder and tell you that domestic flights like these are very safe, that sheâs flown many times and that nothing badâs ever happened. You donât have it in you to tell her, a total albeit nice stranger, that itâs not the journey thatâs worrying you so much, but the destination.
Stepping inside the airport at Daegu feels surreal. The few times youâve traveled between Seoul and Gimcheon, you droveâbut Chaewon forced you to fly down, saying you couldnât just get in your car and leave if you suddenly felt like it. You didnât tell her you could almost just as easily get a same-day flight, if it really came down to it.
You hope it wonât.
The airport is so relatively unbusy, so it doesnât take you too long before you arrive at the parking lot, eyes searching for your aunt and her green little car that sheâs always driven and that has somehow yet to break down.Â
But itâs another familiar face that your eyes land on.Â
The sight feels like a punch to the gut. For a few seconds, you swear you stop breathing, the sound of your heartbeat so loud in your ears that it cuts off all other noise around you, of planes taking off, people reuniting, car doors slamming shut.
You werenât supposed to see him so soon. You were supposed to meet your aunt, go through a slightly awkward car ride, maybe have your first adult conversation with her now that you werenât, or at least less of, an angsty teen. You were then supposed to get ready, both mentally and physically, for seeing all of your friends at once again, for seeing him. Who was standing in front of his car, staring at you with a small smile that kept breaking your heart over and over again, clearly here to pick you up.
He lets you stare back. Lets you stand there, mouth agape in shock, fingers wrapped so tight around the handle of your suitcase that your nails dig into the skin of your palm. You werenât supposed to see him so soon. You didnât get enough time to prepare, to adjust to being here, and now youâre standing there dumbly like youâve just seen a ghost.
In a way, you have.
You regain part of your senses. When you try to say his name, your voice is hoarse, and it comes out as a whisper, barely audible even to you. So you clear your throat, try a second time.
âJaeyun.â
The name feels clumsy on your tongue, like a foreign language you once knew but lost due to lack of practice. And yet, when he smiles and says your name back to you, it sounds so right, like no one else is as deserving of saying it as he is.
âHi, Y/N.â
Your feet move of their own accord as they step towards him; he mirrors you, and in mere seconds youâre face-to-face with him, and when he reaches out you think he might hug you but all he does is take your suitcase from you and roll it to the trunk of his car. A sigh escapes your lips, but youâre unsure whether it's one of disappointment or of relief.
âThere was an emergency at the hospital, so Auntie asked me to pick you up. I hope itâs okay with you,â he explains. You watch, transfixed, as he closes the trunk, then walks over to the passenger side, opening the door and motioning for you to go in.
You nod. âYeah, itâs okay. Thank you.â
Instead of walking right away to his side of the car, he stays there, one hand on top of the door as you take a seat and fasten your seatbelt. âItâs no worries,â he says finally before gently shutting your door.
There are so many things to think about. Usually, youâd get hung up over the fact that even on the day of your coming back home for the first time in years, your aunt still prioritizes her job over you, or over the fact that Jaeyun still calls her Auntie, despite the resolve youâve had since you were fourteen of calling her by her first name, and her first name only.
Now, as the boy â the man â beside you starts the car, hands steady compared to your trembling ones, a peaceful expression on his face, all you can think about is the improbability of it all, of being back here, of being next to Jaeyun of all people and not knowing what to say to him. If someone had told you ten years ago, that one day a reunion with Jaeyun would mean silence and cramp-inducing nerves, you would have either laughed them off, or been scared into never leaving at all.Â
Your mind conjures an infinite list of conversation starters, but none of them seem good enough. Theyâre all too relaxed, too intense, too inappropriate for a situation like this. Like a fish out of water, you keep opening your mouth to say something, only to close it when you decide not to.Â
Jaeyun being this quiet only makes things worse. If thereâs one thing about him, itâs that heâs always talking like he canât get the words out fast enoughâbut maybe itâs been too long for you to speak with any authority about what Sim Jaeyun is like. You know youâve changed a lot in ten yearsâhow can you expect him to be the same boy you left? You canât even tell whether heâs just calmer now or if heâs decided to torture you by silence.Â
As he keeps his eyes on the road ahead of him, you risk furtive glances, trying to assess how much about him mightâve changed. Thereâs still something of the boy who used to split clementines with you in the winter, who would whisper the answers to you when you got called on in class and blanked. Heâs grown into his features, heâs learned how to style his hair, but his kind smile and eyes havenât changed in the slightest. You still find yourself inexplicably drawn to everything about him, even the small cut on his jawline, probably from shavingâyour fingers crave to feel it, this sign of a private life that you havenât been privy to for years. That you havenât been a part of.
Minutes pass by like eternity. Heâs only pulling out of the parking lot and joining the freeway and youâre already wondering how youâll survive the twenty-minute car ride to your auntâs. Thankfully, Jaeyun eventually puts an end to your agony.Â
âThereâs so much I want to tell you that I donât know where to start.â His voice is low, infused with a kind of timidity youâve rarely heard from him. It seems to reflect your feelings exactly, and youâre so relieved you could cry.Â
A small chuckle escapes your throat. âMe too,â you say, glancing at him briefly, avoiding his gaze by the fraction of a second. Itâs hard enough being in an enclosed space with him; eye contact isnât an option right now. Every time his eyes flick over to you, the side of your face heats up so much you think it might melt right off.
âHowâhow are you?â he asks.
Youâre not sure whether he means right now, or in generalâbut you donât really feel like examining your feelings about being back here more than you already have, and especially not in front of Jaeyun, so you go for the second meaning.
âGood,â you say. âEverythingâs going well at work. And Iâve got a few really great friends. What about you?â
A few beats pass without his answerâin the corner of your eye, you see his head swivel back-and-forth between the road and your face. âWhat, thatâs it?â he finally says with a small, disbelieving chuckle. âThe last time I saw you was three years ago. Surely you have more to say than that.â He doesnât sound angry, just genuinely eager to get more information out of you. But his words make you angry at yourself, because they remind you that itâs your fault you know so little about each otherâs lives now. Itâs not for his lack of trying, and you both know thatâsince you left ten years ago, his unwavering kindness and lack of resentment towards you has surprised you every time youâve seen him again.Â
âI donât know, nothingâs really happened. I was promoted pretty recentlyââ
âOkay, thatâs definitely not nothing. Congratulations, Y/N. You deserve it.â
Theyâre words youâve heard a hundred times before, but coming from him, they sound so heartfelt, like he truly is proud and happy for you, that you canât help but soften at them. Smiling, you say, âYouâve never seen me at work. Maybe I slack off all day and hand in everything late.â
âIâve seen you in high school, and thatâs enough to know youâd rather pull out your hair strand by strand than hand in anything a minute late.â
You laugh, and when he turns his head to look at you, this time, you mirror him. He can only keep his eyes off the road for so long, but a second is all you need. Your gazes meet, and heâs wearing one of your favorite smiles of his, the one that makes you feel like heâs really glad to see you again, and a weight is suddenly taken off your shoulders.
Maybe this wonât be so bad after all.
Thankfully, the remainder of the car ride is much less awkward than its first few minutes.You find Jaeyun to be as talkative as ever, not shy in the slightest to tell you about everything going on in his life, from the arguments he gets into with his colleagues â which happen to mostly be members of his family â to the hikes heâs been going on more frequently now that heâs adopted a dog, a Border Collie he says you have to meet.Â
Your nerves are appeased. The last time you saw Jaeyun three years ago, it was for his grandmotherâs funeral. She was the main reason heâd stayed hereâback in high school, heâd had vague plans of moving to Seoul after graduating from university in Daegu. But when she got sick, with his brother abroad and his parents working hard to afford the hospital bills, he decided there should be someone to keep her company and take care of her, and that someone would be him. You could count on one hand the number of times youâd been back, and when she passed was one of them. He tried to keep a brave front, smiling as he greeted and thanked everyone for coming, but you could see right through the facade, although itâd been a long time since you could call yourself a close friend of his.
You only stayed three days. The night before you went back to Seoul, you went over to his apartment to make him dinner. In front of you, he let it all outâheâd always cried easily, but never like this. You spent so much time comforting him and offering him your shoulder that in the end, you could only make him a bowl of pasta with tomato sauce that he barely ate half of. You knew only too well what sort of pain he was going through. While your brain has wiped most of your memories of the events soon following your parentsâ deaths, you remember the hurt that lasted months, years, that still comes back now from time to time, when you least expect it. It was partly thanks to Jaeyunâs friendship that your grief was easier to overcomeâas you got to know him and your new classmates, he took your mind off of things little by little, until one afternoon, you came home from school and realized you hadnât felt suddenly sad or irrationally angry the entire day.
The moment you left him that night, his cheeks tear-stained and his eyebrows furrowed even in sleep, you made a promise to yourself that youâd be there for him at twenty-five as he was for you at fourteen, despite the distance that separated you. You texted him everyday, called three times in a row if he didnât answer, made sure your mutual friends checked up on him often.Â
But Jaeyun was, is strong and he had amazing people surrounding him, people heâs known his entire life and that have his back. He was back on his feet soon, sooner than you expected, for how close he was to his grandmother. Because of, or thanks to that, when you felt like he didnât need you to look after him anymore, you only felt a little guilty for pulling away. More accurately, the guilt ate relentlessly at you, but you had excuses to make yourself feel better. His dad made all his favorite dishes. Jaemin took him out fishing. A neighbor of his had a dog who gave birth, and he adopted one of the pups. With or without you, he was going to be fine.
You didnât mind looking after him. But as soon as you felt like you were relying on him, you panicked. And you were starting to look forward to your weekly calls far too much for your liking. So you reached out less often. It was a busy time at work â when wasnât it, after all? â and you buried yourself in it so that when you told him you were too busy to call or to head back for the weekend, you werenât lying.
Things went back to the way they were for the seven previous years. You were as relieved as you were heartbroken.
You look at him now, listening to his lively rants with a smile on your face, thinking how glad you are it all turned out okay. The sadness of being apart from him, the longing of missing him, youâd do it all again if it meant heâd be laughing like this in the end.
Parked in front of your auntâs house, Jaeyun turns off the ignition and turns to you. âDo you want me to come in with you?â he asks.
How easily you fall back into your old ways. Twenty minutes with him and you feel like a teenager again, annoyed with him for being so nice, so unrelentingly nice, annoyed at your stupid heart for beating up a storm in your chest every time he so much as smiles at you. You want desperately to say yes. To have someone to lean on as you walk into the house that contains so many bad memoriesâfights with your aunt followed by silence, the feeling of loneliness that pervaded your teenage years and that you havenât quite managed to shake off. Itâd be so nice to have Jaeyun there with youâand judging from the concern on his face, he seems to know how you feel.
But you canât let him, because you canât let yourself need him. Not again. Not when you already know how it ends.
You smile and shake your head, ignoring the disappointment that flashes across his features. âItâs okay. I donât wanna take up more of your time.â He looks like heâs going to say something, so you quickly add, already opening the passenger door, âIâll see you later for the reunion, yeah? Thank you for the ride, Yun.â
With a sigh, he lets go of whatever it was he wanted to say. âOf course. Anytime.â
He gets out of the car even though you tell him not to, and helps you with your suitcase, which really isnât that heavy. You can tell that your declining his offer has dampened his enthusiasm somewhat, and yet, he waits until youâre at the front door, one hand on the handle, the other waving him goodbye, to drive away. As though he wanted to keep an eye on you for as long as he couldâand so do you. You watch his car get smaller until it disappears around a corner. Then, inhaling and exhaling deeply, you turn the key you havenât used in years inside the keyhole and push the door open.
The first thing you notice is the unchanging smell of the house. Like the cleaning product your aunt uses, and a slight stale odor of food, because she always forgets to crack open a window or turn on the oven fan when she cooks. Plus a scent specific to the house that reminds you of your aunt, of the clothes she wears, of the blanket she covers herself with while she watches reality TV after particularly long shifts.
Gently closing the door behind you, you stand in the entrance for a while, letting yourself take the time you need to get used to this place again. Youâre glad your aunt isnât home to usher you in and pretend sheâs happier to see you than she is, or that you didnât let Jaeyun accompany you. You donât want anyone, least of all him, to witness you looking around the house like itâs the first time you step foot in it.
Everything is the same as ever. Same furniture, same photos in the frames, same wallpaper, which make the few novelties even more striking. A plant in the corner of the living room, a new, more modern kettle in the kitchen. The black-and-white, low quality scan of your first ever article printed in Limelight is still displayed on the fridge, held up by the Brisbane magnet seventeen-year-old Jaeyun gifted you after he came back from visiting his family there.Â
You make your way upstairs slowly, holding onto the wooden rail for support, more emotional than physical. Your bedroom is a time capsule of your time in Gimcheon, with the same plain purple bedsheets your aunt bought before you arrived, the same posters of the boybands fifteen-year-old you obsessed over on your walls, the same fantasy series you used to devour during summer break on your shelves. You canât help but crack a smile at the sight of it all. In all the times youâve come back to this house, youâve never had it in you to change anything about this room. You want to keep it preciously, as if changing anything about it would change the memories associated with it, both good and bad.
Losing both of your parents at once had made you anything but an insouciant teenager. You were overly serious and reserved, grief forcing you to grow up far before any kid should have to. And yet, standing in this room, you remember the fleeting moments during which your biggest worries were a pimple on your chin or a test in a subject you didnât like.Â
For all your grievances against your aunt, you wouldâve turned into a much different person if she hadnât taken you in back then. Your dadâs family lived in another country, and you knew from conversations with your aunt that she and your mother didnât have the best relationship with their parents. Their brother had three kids of his own, whereas your aunt had none; it only made sense for her to welcome you into her house. When you were mad at her, you told yourself it was only her moral and legal obligation to take care of you as your closest relative, but when you were feeling more generous â which, for fifteen-year-old you, could be rare â you realized that having a comfortable room to yourself and cupboards always stocked with your favorite snacks was something to be grateful for.Â
And there were the friends you made here, whose pictures fill five entire photo albums. They made everything more tolerable, and even fun, when you allowed it to be. Of course, you would have never told them that, back thenâyou liked your cold exterior and the way they saw right through it.Â
Setting down your suitcase by your bed, you decide to go through the photo albums you assiduously filled back in high school instead of putting your things away. Itâs a better way to settle in and get yourself readyâyour nerves dissipate as you flip the pages, bright pictures blink up at you, of your friends at each othersâ houses, at the park on weekends, at the corner store after school. Youâre not in many of the pictures, usually hidden behind the camera, exaggeratedly frowning when Jaeyun managed to pry it from your hands and forced you in the frame.
He never heeded your protests when he wanted to swap places so you could be in the pictures you so often took. You remember the puppy eyes heâd make at you, which had no business being so effective, and the way heâd rest his larger hands on yours on the camera. Too unaccustomed to the feeling of your heartbeat speeding up, you would quickly hand it over to him then, turning away from him so he wouldnât see the obvious effect his touch had on you. It didnât help that heâd always show you the photo afterwards, pointing at you on the small screen, grinning as he said, âSee? You look pretty,â even though fear of being unphotogenic wasnât the reason you didnât like your picture to be taken.
Soon, your anxiety at seeing your friends and ex-classmates, after so long of making yourself unavailable to them, is almost entirely gone, replaced by excitement. There remains a pang of shame, especially at the thought of seeing Chaewon. How long had it been since youâd called her when you received that wedding invitation? Like Jaeyun, you know she wonât even be really mad, and that makes it worseâshe might make a light-hearted quip about it, but itâs as though theyâre scared that lecturing you about being MIA might only push you away further.
You tell yourself thereâs nothing to be scared about. The people youâll see tonight are but older versions of the people smiling at the camera, at you, in your photo albums.Â
You flip to a picture of you and Jaeyun taken without your knowledge, by Yunjin, if you remember correctly. Both of you sport wide smiles, the neon lights of the arcade game you were playing reflecting on your faces. It was his phoneâs home screen for ages.
Youâre so immersed in this trip down memory lane that you lose track of timeâwhen the front door opens and your aunt calls out your name, two hours have passed already. Pushing your awkwardness to the side, you let her hug you and repeat her words back to her when she tells you she missed you. You did miss her, but you only realize it once the familiar scent of her hair. Sheâs a creature of habitâshe still uses the shampoo she used when you first moved here at fourteen.Â
She was only twenty-six back then, younger than you are now. You donât know if you could deal with a temperamental, grieving teenager while youâd just lost your sister yourself.Â
âHow was the trip down? Iâm sorry I couldnât come and get you at the airport. I sent Jake instead, I figured you wouldnât mind if it was him,â she rattles, already filling the kettle for tea. This is so like her, saying a million things at once, always busying herself with something. You know that in an hour, when you leave for Chaewonâs house, sheâll settle herself on the couch and wonât leave it for the remainder of the evening, drained from her shift at the hospital.Â
âIt was fine, I didnât have any problems with my flight,â you reply, taking the knife from her hands and taking over the apple-cutting. âThere was an emergency at work?â
She sighs. âYeah, you know how weâre so understaffed in the summer. Some teenagers were messing around in a house under construction, and fell through a floor that wasnât done. No big injuries, but they needed an extra person to deal with parents and paperwork. At least I got to see these little shits get the talking-to of their life,â she says, making you laugh. She reaches for something in the cupboard, pulls out a packet of your favorite chocolate-flavored snacks from back then. âI got you these, if you want.â
âWow, I havenât eaten these in ages,â you say, chuckling at the familiar cartoon turtle on the bag.
âDo you not like them anymore?â
âNo, no, I do,â you say quickly to make your auntâs worried expression go away. âI just canât eat a bag in one sitting like I used to anymore, and they go stale too soon.â
She chuckles. âThatâs being an adult for you. I got a stomachache from a can of Coke the other day. Just one.â
You have time to spare before you need to start getting ready for Chaewonâs, so you sit at the dinner table together and catch up. The conversation floats somewhat on the surface of things, more about what youâve been doing than how youâve been doing. Youâre overly polite, keeping a distance for her sake more than your own, unsure how happy she really is to have you hereâand you have the feeling she thinks the same of you. The memory of your last fight hangs heavy in the air between you two, unspoken but tangible.
Itâs been easier talking to her since you moved away than it ever was when you lived here. You guess distance really does make the heart grow fonder, more willing to forgive and make amendsâthat, and growing up. Even after your fight, which you quickly understood had only happened because you let your emotions get the best of you after seeing Jaeyun in such a dishevelled state from losing his grandmother, you can have a normal conversation like this. Itâs a far cry from the silence that could stretch on for days when you were in high school.
Like with most dreaded things, you belatedly realize how much time you wasted stressing out about coming home, when there was nothing to worry about. Your mind had made up all sorts of scenarios, like your aunt would start yelling at you the moment you came through the door, rehashing your argument, or would barely give you the time of day during your entire stay. Itâs as though you forgot she was always the one who knocked on your door with a slice of takeaway pizza or a piece of buttered toast when you were being moody and wouldnât come down to eat. Who took you out for ice cream when she felt bad for being so caught up in work youâd hardly seen her all week. Who recorded your Saturday evening dramas on the TV while you were over at a friendâs house.
Youâve still got some talking to do, but it might not be as hard as you thought it would.
Fresh out of the shower, youâre changing into a nicer outfit and putting on light makeup when a text from Jaeyun lights up your phone. Heâs asking if you want a ride from him, which you declineâyour auntâs house is out of his way and itâs only a ten-minute bike ride for you, which you find yourself quite excited to go on, for purely nostalgic reasons.
Ok :) Iâll see you later, he texts back, and your stomach twists with both apprehension and giddiness. Having him there will make things so much easier, and yet the thought of spending prolonged time in his vicinity makes you unreasonably nervous.
Itâs just Jaeyun, you tell yourself, the guy who drooled on his textbook when he fell asleep in class. Who never got mad unless, in true soccer player fashion, felt another player had committed an unforgivable offense against him. Who insisted on watching horror movies then spent them with his face behind his hands.
You catch yourself smiling in the mirror and shake your head.
It really does feel like youâve been transported back to ten years ago as you wish your aunt a good evening and hop onto your bike, still in its same spot, resting against the side of the house, then ride down the streets youâll always know by heart. Gimcheon is at its prettiest during this time of year, the trees plump, their leaves dark green, the flowers bright. The summer evening breeze is warm on your skin, and the sun, low in the sky, casts a beautiful golden light on everything around you.
Itâs not long before you reach Chaewonâs houseâitâs still amazing to you how you can stand in front of it and say, yes, my friend owns this house. It actually belongs to herâand her fiancĂ©, Jaemin, of course. You donât know of a single person your age in Seoul who owns their apartment, except for Minjeong, but sheâs just exceptionally well-off. Itâs a nice, traditional house, with a wooden porch around the front where you know Chaewon, a Korean Nara Smith if youâve ever met one, will make gochujang and soy sauce from scratch once sheâs less busy with work and wedding preparations.Â
The gate is ajar, so you slide it further and let yourself in, calling out your friendâs name tentatively. Immediately you hear footsteps from inside the house, Chaewon squealing your name before she comes barrelling through the door and running towards you. She practically flings herself at you, and you stumble back a few steps as you catch her, laughing at her enthusiasm.
âUgh, Iâm so happy youâre finally here!â she exclaims, squashing the side of her face onto yours.
âIâm happy to be here, too,â you reply, chuckling. âThank you for the heartfelt welcome.â
Hands on your shoulders, she leans back, assesses you head-to-toe. You follow her gaze, wondering if the mid-thigh sundress you chose was a good decision. Is it too much cleavage? At your all-female workplace, there is no such thing as too much cleavage. âYou look good.â
âOkay, no need to sound so surprised.â
âIâm not!â she says, laughing. âOkay, a little bit, Iâm sorry. I thought youâd look all dishevelled like those busy city girls in the movies. Running around, getting coffee, whatever it is city people do. Thatâs what you look like when you FaceTime me after work.â
You sigh. âThatâs great to hear, Chae, thanks.â
âNo, donât take it the wrong way, itâs hot! But itâs nice to see you like this, with your hair down instead of your buns so tight they snatch your eyebrows.â
You frown. âI like my tight buns.â
âSo do I,â she says, tapping your butt with a cheeky smile. Before you can protest, she takes your hand and leads you into the house. âCome on, weâve made some changes inside, let me show you.â
âAm I the first person here?â you ask. The house is empty save for you and her, and probably Jaemin, somewhere.
She smiles at you mischievously. âOf course. Weâre going to catch up first. And who the hell starts a party at 6 p.m. anyway?â
Chaewonâs presence is everywhere around her house, from the white gauze curtains that flutter in the wind to the trinkets that line the shelves of a cupboard passed down onto her from her grandparents. There are new pieces of furniture here and there, and a nice patterned rug in the living room, but the biggest change has been done to the kitchen. Itâs been fully renovated to be more modern since you were last here, and itâs fully functional now, with everything she needs to make her homemade bread and her thousand side dishes that accompany every one of her meals. Itâs a good thing Jaeminâs a nice personâyou staunchly believe that not many people are deserving of the kind of care Chaewon is able to provide. You remember making that very clear when you came to visit for the holidays, and got a little too drunk with Chaewon for New Yearâs Eveâyou canât recall exactly what you said to him, but he could hardly look you in the eye for the remainder of your stay, so it mustâve left an impression.
Thereâs barely an inch of free space on the counter, and the fridge isnât faring much better. All sorts of salads and dips, meat and vegetable skewers, marinating chicken thighs, and of course, cupcakes. Tons of cupcakes. She doesnât let you lingerâJaemin walks into the kitchen, and youâve barely hugged him hello and exchanged niceties with him that sheâs already dragging you someplace else, telling rather than asking her fiancĂ© to finish getting the food ready.
She sits you down on a chair outside then heads back in, telling you sheâll be right back. It gives you some time to admire her backyard, the way itâs all been set up for tonight, cute cushions on the patio sofas, fairy lights strung in the trees, ribbons on the fence around her vegetable patch. Even back in high school, she grew green onions and avocados on the window sill of her parentsâ kitchen. Youâre excessively moved knowing that she has a whole garden to tend to now. Itâs so easy to picture her, wearing a sunhat as she waters and adds soil to her plants.Â
When she comes back out, itâs with two glasses of suspiciously pink liquid in her hands. She sees your weary expression and says, âDonât worry, you can barely taste the alcohol in it.â
âThatâs exactly what Iâm worried about,â you reply, but take a sip anyway. God knows youâre going to need some liquid courage to face tonight. Itâs overly sweet, tasting mostly of strawberry syrup, and almost not at all of the vodka and prosecco Chaewon says she put in. Fine with you.
She launches straight away into her usual interrogation. Itâs less daunting, because you can expect itâevery reunion with Chaewon means sheâs going to have a thousand questions for you if you donât turn the subject around on her at some point. She wants to know all of the office gossip as though she has personal stakes in who your coworkers are dating and what the workplace dynamics are like. She asks about your daily life, your friends, whether youâre seeing anyone.
âIâd have told you if I had a boyfriend, Chae,â you say.
She shrugs, a little sheepish. âI donât know. Thereâs lots of things you donât tell me about, you knowâŠâ
There it is, the sharp pang of guilt in your stomach. The summer breeze suddenly feels cold on your bare skin, the stillness of the countryside oppressive. Up until now, it felt like barely a few weeks had passed since youâd last seen Chaewon, but reality catches up to you now, with its distance and silences, the ones you imposed between the two of you. âIâm sorry,â you say quietly.
âNo, Iâm not mad!â she exclaims, panicked. âIâm just saying, I donât know so much about your life anymore, so this could be something I donât know about either⊠Iâm making this worse, arenât I?â she asks when she sees the pained look on your face.
You shake your head. âYouâre right, though. I know I should call more often, I justâŠâ
âWant to put this all behind you, I get it. You always talked about wanting to go back to Seoul in high school, so Iâm happy youâre able to thrive there now,â she says, although thereâs an edge to her voice that you know means sheâs more hurt than she wants to let on.
âBut it isnât fair to you.â
She shrugs again. When she looks at you, thereâs a small smile on her face that looks a little too forced. For as long as youâve known her, Chaewon has been wholly averse to conflictâthis is probably the hardest sheâll scold you for being so absent. But because itâs from her, itâs an effective reminder to be a better friend.
You canât help but put everything and everyone here in the same corner of your mind. You thought that to move on from one person, youâd need to move on from everyone, even Chaewon. You can only hope itâs not too late to start realizing how much of a fool youâve been.
âLook, I didnât get you all the way here to talk about this. I just wanna know how youâve been.â
âIâve been good, Chae, really. And now itâs your turn to present your life to me in excruciating detail.â
She chuckles and says, âFine, but weâll need a refill for this.â
âWhat? Has it been bad?âÂ
In the doorway, she turns around to look at you. âOh, not for me. My lifeâs been so awesome that youâll need to drink your jealousy away, babe.â
And indeed, when she comes back and tells all about her life recently with a dreamy look in her eyes, it isnât that youâre jealous per se, but that you realize this is the life a lot of people wish forâmarried with a nice house before thirty, and children soon, if you know her at all. And you agree these things sound nice, but theyâre not what you want for yourself right now. Sure, there have been hurdles: her parents-in-law are pretty conservative, but Jaemin always stands up for her, and her job as an elementary school teacher can be very tiring, but, she says, âhaving someone like him to come home to makes everything so much easier.â Sheâs always had a sentimental streak to her, but this close to the wedding, you can tell her love for Jaemin has never been so strong. Youâre reassured to see it doesnât stop her from ordering him around as usual, or scolding him when he puts the chocolate sprinkles on top of the blue frosted cupcakes even though she told him at least a million times that the star-shaped sprinkles went on those.Â
âBut the star-shaped ones taste like nothing, honey,â he says. You shake your head even if he canât see you. Chaewon gasps like he just told her to go fuck herselfâand in her eyes, itâs probably as though he has.
As much as she hates arguments, this is something sheâd lay her life down for. She heads into the kitchen to give him a piece of her mind, leaving you to reflect over her words. It makes everything so much easier. You do wonder what that must feel like, to have someone to come home to after a long day instead of a silent glass of wine. At least the wine canât judge you.
The two glasses of Chaewonâs pink mixture must really be getting to your head, because when she sits back down next to you, face flushed from a heated conversation about sprinkles, you find yourself telling her whatâs on your mind. âIâve almost had that a couple times, you know. Someone to come home to,â you say, feeling her gaze on the side of your face as you keep yours on the garden in front of you. âI did tell you about some of the guys I dated.â
âYeah, and you always seemed super unfazed about the break-ups.â
âI was. I always expected it to end one day or another, so I wasnât so surprised when that day came.â Her hand on your forearm is warm, anchoring, silently telling you that itâs okay to go on. âItâs not that I donât want that life. But whenever they started talking about meeting their parents, or moving in together, let alone get married⊠It just freaked me out. The idea of someone being so close to me, eventually knowing so much about me. Howââ You interrupt yourself, taken aback by the tears you feel pooling in your eyes. You turn to look at Chaewon, and something in her expression, in the familiarity of her features, makes you take a deep breath and keep talking. This is Chaewon. She wonât make fun of you for crying. âHow do you do it, Chae? How do you trust someone to still love you when they know about all the worst sides of you?â
âOh, honey,â she whispers, standing up to wrap her arms around you. A few silent tears stream down your cheeks, hopefully not staining her dress, as you hug her back tightly. âWhat about me? Minji, Yunjin? What about Jaeyun?â
Her voice seems to soften on his name, or maybe itâs your heart that softens upon hearing it. A part of you thinks he may be at fault for your unsatisfactory love lifeâknowing heâs out there makes it harder to fall for someone else. But thatâs something you couldnât admit to Chaewonâyou can barely admit it to yourself as it is.
âIâm sorry,â you say, sniffling against her shoulder. âI shouldnât be doing this today, of all days.â
She shushes you. âNo, no, itâs okay. Iâm glad youâre letting it out. Listen.â She crouches in front of you, brushes away strands of your hair that got stuck in your wet eyelashes. âThereâs nothing monstrous about you that would drive anyone away. Youâre more cautious than most of us when it comes to relationships, and thatâs okay. It just means that when you finally do give your heart to someone, theyâll be all the more deserving of it. And I promise you that someone is out there.â She smiles, adding, âMaybe closer than you think.â
âWhatâwhatâs that supposed to mean?â
âCome on,â she says with a laugh, unfolding from her crouch and holding her hand out to you. âYour makeupâs all messed up. Iâll help you fix it before everyone else gets here.â
In her upstairs bathroom, she pushes off all the clothes laying haphazardly on an armchair and instructs you to sit there. With four cocktails between the two of you, everything becomes funnyâyouâre both laughing so hard at the shape of her mascara tube that it takes her five minutes to properly apply the makeup to your lashes. She keeps scolding you for scrunching your eyes in laughter and stopping her from doing her job, as if sheâs not the one who canât see through the tears in her eyes. âNow my mascaraâs running!â she complains when she sees her reflection in the mirror.
Like little girls playing around with their motherâs beauty products, she applies eyeshadows of all colors on your lids, tries out a different lipstick on each half of your lips to see which one fits you best. You look ridiculous, but youâd probably let her keep going for hours if it wasnât for the sudden ring of the doorbell. You both freeze mid-laughing fit as if the whole point of this evening wasnât for people to come over, the blush brush in Chaewonâs hand floating inches from your cheek.
âWho is it?â you whisper, unable to tell who it is from the voices mixing with Jaeminâs downstairs.
âSounds like Jeno and his new girlfriend,â she whispers back. âYou havenât met her. Sheâs way too cool for him.â
âAs are all of Jenoâs girlfriends.â
Chaewon nods. Before she can say anything else, Jaeminâs voice rings out in the house, calling out for her. âBe down in a minute!â she shouts back, then turns to you. Her energy seems to have shifted from when you were laughing around together when she says, âLetâs get this off you. I made you look a little crazy.â
As she douses a cotton pad with makeup remover, you ask her quietly, âAre you okay?â
With the cotton over your eyes, you canât see her expression, but youâve known her long enough to picture it. The tight lips, the slightly furrowed eyebrows. âIâm okay, just a little nervous,â she says. âItâs been a while since weâve had this many people over at once.â
Your surprise only lasts a secondâalthough Chaewon had appeared nothing but excited every time you talked about this weekend, you remember how sheâd grow anxious in the last moments before any party she threw. You take the cotton pad from her hands, holding onto her wrist as you look earnestly into her eyes. âItâs going to be an amazing evening, Chae. Youâre the best hostess in this town. The food looks great, as it always does, and everyoneâs going to be ecstatic to see each other again. And to congratulate you! Youâre getting married in two days!â
A small smile was forming on her lips as you spoke, but itâs the mention of her wedding that really seems to do the trick. âI am,â she says quietly, smiling down at her feet like a giddy schoolgirl.Â
âAnd your fiancĂ©âs waiting downstairs for you. Along with Jeno and his cool girlfriend.â
She sighs deeply. âYouâre right. Iâve been busy all day getting everything ready, and now that thereâs nothing left to do, Iâm panicking.â
âThereâs no reason to,â you tell her, squeezing her wrist warmly. âGo. Iâll take care of my makeup.â
With a quick hug, Chaewon thanks you and heads downstairs. In the mirror, it really does look like a small child had far too much fun on your face. Wiping it all off with her cleansing oil and digging through her pouch for liner and a lip tint, you remember all the evenings spent at your auntâs house, her combing through your closet before a party because your aunt let you buy little tops that her parents would have a seizure seeing her wear. For once, the roles are reversed.Â
Calming her down has had the same effect on your nerves, although the heavy doses of vodka and prosecco in the cocktails mightâve helped. Your heart is only slightly beating faster than usual as the doorbell rings again, the voices of more people filling Chaewonâs and Jaeminâs living room. For some reason, youâre worried that coming downstairs as theyâre all greeting each other will be more awkward than meeting them out in the backyard, so you wait until it sounds like theyâve left the room. But your plan isnât so successfulâyouâre halfway down the stairs when the door opens again, the person entering seemingly familiar enough to this house to come in without announcing their presence. Your body registers the sight of him first, heart dropping to your stomach, electricity reaching all the way to your fingertips before his name has even made its way to your brain.
âJaeyun,â you breathe out, the wind knocked out of you as though you didnât see him mere hours ago and as though you were unaware of his being here tonight. What is wrong with you? Are you sure Chaewon didnât lace your drinks with something else?
His smile has the power to reassure you and double your nerves all at once. He waits for you, watching as you make your way down the remaining stairs. âLong time no see,â he says when you reach him, an infuriatingly charming grin on his lips. You canât bite back the one growing on your own. âI hope you didnât miss me too much.â
âIt was a struggle, but I made it through.â
He chuckles, and a few seconds pass in which you donât quite look at each other; youâre about to offer to join the others in the yard, but he speaks first. âYou look beautiful.â Three simple words, but coming from Jaeyun, and spoken with that low, intimate tone, they pack a punch.
You hope you donât look too obviously flustered as you gaze down at yourself, picking up the hem of your dress and rubbing the fabric between your fingers self-consciously. âThanks, Yun,â you say, voice barely above a whisper. You give yourself a few seconds to assess him, and the conclusion you come to doesnât help your stateâyouâve seen him wear white button-ups dozens of times before, at school events and fancy gatherings, but you swear his arms didnât always fill out the sleeves so perfectly, straining ever so slightly against the fabric. And sure, not having it buttoned to the top is fine, but are three undone buttons really necessary? You stop yourself from making a comment about cleavage and return his compliment instead. Then, with a frown, you tell him the others are already outside and turn on your heels.
Behind you, you hear a chuckle, then the sound of his footsteps following you. You thought itâd be nice to have Jaeyun around, a familiar and reassuring presence to look for if you ever felt awkward or out-of-place tonight, but it turns out it might be more distressing than anything.
Outside, all the newcomers, save for Jenoâs girlfriend, greet you with wide, surprised smiles, like they canât believe you actually made it all the way here. Most of your old classmates have stayed in the areaâone has gone abroad, a few have moved to Daegu, the closest big city, but for the most part, they either still live here or in nearby, somewhat larger towns with more job opportunities. Thatâs why theyâve remained such a tight-knit circle, why everyone knows everyoneâs business, and why you were much more nervous than anyone should be at the idea of going to their high school reunion. Your distance is all the more obvious by their lack thereof.Â
No one is showing you open hostility like in the worst-case scenarios youâd dreamed up, so you must be doing a good job at smiling and catching up with them and being normal with your hands, although you gladly accept the champagne glass Jaeyun hands you, thankful for something to keep them busy. And you find that itâs nice to be here. Itâs nice to know Yurim and Jimin are as inseparable as ever and are planning to do the whole baby-at-the-same-time thing (once they manage to both find a boyfriend). Itâs nice to see Jeno start to look less like a nerd over time, but that he hasnât lost his ability to bag the most beautiful women youâve ever met, like Giselle, who he very proudly introduces you to, and who is indeed way cooler than him. She volunteers at the animal shelter in her free time and DJs for huge techno clubs in the city on the weekend, so to be fair, sheâs cooler than most people.
As more people start trickling in, instead of retreating into yourself, you relax. The weather is perfect, the sun making its slow, lazy descent into the night, a warm summer breeze coming through; people are happy to be here, to see each other, to see you; when Chaewon isnât frantically running around, making sure that everyone is doing okay and that there are enough mini-fours to go around, she actually looks like sheâs enjoying herself.
And thereâs Jaeyun. Itâs not that you mean to notice him, but your gaze keeps drifting to him of its own volition. He moves through the crowd with ease, clearly surrounded by people heâs comfortable with, always being pulled into conversations or making small talk with everyone he bumps into. His eyes seem to find yours often, and every time, he smiles at you like he knows something you donât. Instead of quickly turning away like he used to as a teenager, unashamed at getting caught, his eyes linger on your face before slowly returning to whoeverâs talking to him.
Thereâs a really annoying moment when heâs standing by the barbecue, keeping Jaemin company while he grills sausages and skewers, holding a bottle of beer in one hand, talking and laughing seemingly without a care in the world, as though he doesnât know, or care, how infuriatingly hot he is. Hair pushed back from his forehead, a slight blush on his cheeks from the heat of the grill, that stupid third button still popped open. He looks like he was taken straight from the front cover of a menâs magazine, and it shouldnât be this attractive, but it is, and thereâs nothing you can do about it but down the rest of your champagne glass.
Somethingâs different about him. Despite having seen him over the years, all this time, whenever youâve thought of Jaeyun, the person who came to mind was fifteen, sixteen, seventeen. A little shy, especially around girls, but with a smile that could charm a rock and that he hadnât yet discovered the power of. The pant legs of his school uniform were a little too long because he was sure heâd have one last growth spurt in your final year of school after seeing Heeseung go through one. He never did, then couldnât be bothered to exchange them or get them hemmed. They got soaking wet every time it rained. Of course some things have remained unchangedâheâs still as attentive as always, remembering small things about people, asking them about it, and listening with genuine interest when they answer. He doesnât try to make things about him, and he doesnât get annoyed when they ramble on for minutes on end without ever returning a question. Itâs hard to pinpoint exactly what it is that feels so new about him, so unfamiliar in this exciting, intriguing way.
After observing him through careful, discreet glances (which he seems to notice half of), you come to the conclusion that itâs in the way he carries himself. He stands straighter, walks with more confidence, and has figured out what to do with his arms. Heâs always been a human magnet: old ladies made conversation with him in grocery lines, strangers stopped him in the street for directions, he was elected class president every year without ever putting himself forward. You remember the pressure he used to feel because of it, like he couldnât bear to let anyone down although he was sure itâd inevitably happenâbut now, he seems completely at ease with all this attention on him. Not like heâs gloating, but like heâs in his element.
Eager to avoid his gaze and the dreadful feelings it causes in you, you move around the backyard as often as he does under the guise of catching up with as many as you can, always managing to be part of a different group than he is. And you drink. Everyone does, so youâre not embarrassing yourself on your ownâitâs a known fact that Chaewon can and will feed an army, so her guests bring tons of alcohol to make up for all her efforts. Your glass never goes empty for long simply because no one lets itâyou could refuse, but you donât.Â
You spend thirty minutes stuffing yourself with Chaewonâs cucumber salad and getting all the staff drama of your old school from Yunjin, who now works there as an English teacher. When sheâs done telling you about the affair between the vice-principal and your Year 11 Geography teacher, she takes you aback by asking, âSo, whatâs up between you and Jaeyun?â
Back in high school, people often mistook you for a couple or joked around about you liking each other, so you do as you did thenâyou laugh it off, saying thereâs nothing there. That doesnât seem to satisfy Yunjin, however. She tilts her head at you, asking, âAre you sure? He seems so⊠attentive to you. Just now at the buffet he stopped you from getting the potato salad because thereâs mustard in it. And in high school he was always running around doing things for you. All the girls were jealous of you.â
Your smile feels frozen, plastered on as you stare down at your plate. âThatâs just Jaeyun. Heâs nice to everyone, it doesnât mean anything.â
âY/N,â a voice says, but it definitely does not belong to Yunjin. Not only does it come from behind you, itâs also much too deep to be hers. When you lift your head, sheâs looking right over your shoulder, surprise written all over her features. You turn around to find Jaeyun standing there, handing you a hot dog. âDelivery,â he says, tone light, but his closed-off expression betrays him. You donât know how much of your conversation he heard, but he mustâve not liked it. Youâre not sure whyâitâs not like you lied. Jaeyun is nice to everyone.Â
You bite into the bread. It has all of your perfect toppings for a hot dogâketchup, fried onions, shredded cheddar and jalapeños. When Yunjin leans towards you, a hand on your arm as she says, âI donât think it doesnât mean anything,â you wonder if sheâs right.
A few drinks later, youâre stumbling inside the house, headed for the bathroom, when a hand wraps around your wrist. It belongs to none other than Jaeyun, whose expression is a mix of amusement and concern. Now that all the foodâs come out, the kitchen is dark, bathing in the fairy lightsâ glow from outside and from the few other lights in Chaewon and Jaeminâs garden. And itâs empty, save for the two of you. Itâs only the copious amounts of alcohol running in your blood that makes you think how enticing he looks in this semi-darkness, or that makes you imagine the affection you think you see in his eyes.
Of course youâd spend all evening avoiding him only to find yourself face-to-face alone with him suddenly like this. You look down at his fingers on you, and he lets go.
âHere.â With his other hand, he offers you a glass of water.
âIâm good,â you say, trying to sound casual, but you donât like the close attention heâs paying you. Or maybe youâre embarrassingly drunk and heâs sending you a message. In any case, itâs always been hard for you to accept Jaeyunâs small gesturesâyou always have to remind yourself heâs doing it out of the goodness of his heart and not because he especially cares about you.Â
âY/N.â The way he says your name makes lightning zip down your spine. His voice is stern, but thereâs a certain warmth to it. Like youâre being unreasonable, but cutely so.Â
You take the water from his hands and down it in one go. âHappy?â
âVery,â he says, a smirk on his lips that you frown at as he takes the cup back and places it in the sink. He rests his hands behind him on the counter, eyes searching your face, and you, for some reason, stand there and let him instead of going to the bathroom like youâd originally set out to do. Even as silence stretches out between you, your feet are frozen, and youâre finally courageous enough to meet his gaze without backing down. Even as his eyes scan your face, settling on your lips, and your heart threatens to give out. Even as he takes a step towards you and your chest starts visibly heaving up-and-down with every breath you take.
When heâs standing in front of you, he finally speaks, his voice unlike youâve ever heard it beforeâlow, vulnerable, and with a hint of ruggedness that makes your head spin. âHave you been avoiding me?â
âNoââ
âDonât lie to me, Y/N, please.â He sounds like heâs seconds away from pleading with you. Heâs never been one to hide when heâs hurt, so youâve heard him many times like this, but never when you were the cause of his upset. It was always because of a bad grade, a fight with his parents, a joke he took the wrong way. You wouldnât know if you ever hurt him before, because heâs never come to you about it. It feels weird knowing youâre capable of such a thing.
âIâm nâOkay, yes, Iâm avoiding you a little bit,â you say in a small voice. Whether itâs the look on Jaeyunâs face or the last cocktail you had, but you canât bring yourself to pretend.Â
But you belatedly realize that of course, answering this question will only bring about another, much harder to answer: âWhy?â
So you make up another lie thatâs about as believable as the first one. âIâI donât know, Yunnie. Iâm just trying to speak to as many people as I can.â
âBut not me?â
Is he drunk? He always got whinier after drinking. That must be it. Although his voice isnât whiny at allâheâs not complaining, he rather sounds like he has answers he wants from you and is set on getting them. But itâs the only explanation you can come up with.
Youâre unable to keep his gaze anymore. Looking down at the floor, you say, âWe spoke earlier. Weâre speaking now.â
âYeah, and I practically had to corner you for it.â The vulnerability has left his voice and he sounds⊠frustrated?Â
He crosses his arms over his chest, and despite yourself, your eyes follow the movement. Heâs rolled up his sleeves, letting out his forearms on full display for you. Thatâs an image you immediately need out of your head, so you make the mistake of looking up at his face again, only to be met with his jaw locked tight, his eyebrows slightly furrowed, and the intensity of his eyes staring right into yours.
Heâs allowed to be mad, but does he have to look so good doing it?
As if he wasnât close enough already, he takes another step towards you. It forces you to look up at him, and the sight of his face so near yours is devastating. You can already tell itâll haunt you for nights to come.
âDo I make you nervous, Y/N? Is that why you donât want to be around me?â
You inhale sharply, audibly, and the sound seems to amuse Jaeyun. The way he smirks down at you should be condescending, but he manages to make it impossibly attractive. Like he has you exactly where he wants youâwhich doesnât make any sense. You donât understand why heâs doing this, why itâd upset him that youâd rather talk to other people than to him, how heâs figured out the reason youâre avoiding him is the butterflies gnawing at your stomach every time your gazes intertwine. Heâs never done any of this before.
âNo,â you find yourself saying, but itâs an obvious lie to both of you. Youâre breathless uttering that one word, fingers shaking from the tension in your body and Jaeyunâs proximity.
Then he sighs, and the Jaeyun you know is returned to you. A little tired by your antics, maybe, but more worried than anything. âIâll take you home when youâre ready to go.â
âButââ
âNo buts. Just come get me when you want to leave.â And with that, he turns and heads back outside, leaving you to wonder what that was all about as you wobble your way to the bathroom.
When you come back out, you make a point of sitting in the empty lawn chair next to Jaeyun and joining the conversation heâs in. He smiles at you and you glare at him, feeling like a scolded child.
Maybe alcohol makes you a little immature.
Youâre having a grand old time listening to Jenoâs and Giselleâs travel stories, but as people slowly start making their way home, aware of the weekend full of festivities theyâve got ahead of them, dread sinks in. When the partyâs over, youâll be left alone with Jaeyun. Thankfully, thereâs enough alcohol left to throw another party, and you serve yourself a couple of very generous cranberry-vodkas to prepare yourself for later. Maybe if youâre passed out in Jaeyunâs car you wonât have to talk to him.
When the gardenâs really starting to empty out, you find a small moment during which Jaeyun is busy chatting with Jaemin and some other guys, and stealthily approach Chaewon to tell her youâll be on your way now.Â
âArenât you leaving with Jaeââ
You interrupt her with a hand to her mouth. Even though heâs across the yard from you, you donât want to risk it. âIâll see you tomorrow,â you whisper, then tip-toe your way around the backyard to the front of the house, where your bike waits for you. Somewhere deep in the back of your head, part of you has remained sober enough to tell you how bad an idea it is to bike home after drinking so much. You wouldnât run into many cars at this time of night, but itâll be dark, and the ditches are deep here.Â
But you couldnât have predicted for your best friend to betray you. Just as youâre succeeding on your third try to swing your leg over your bike, you hear her voice, clear as day, shouting, âJaeyun! Y/Nâs leaving without you!â
You swear he teleports over to you. You freeze, hoping that moving as little as you can will turn you invisible.
It doesnât work.
âWhat are you doing?â Jaeyun asks as he makes his way over to you. Youâre relieved when he doesnât sound annoyed, just concerned. He stands in front of you, two hands on your bike handle right next to yours. âI told you to come get me when you were ready. You canât go home on your own like this.â
âSure I can.â You try to hoist yourself up onto your seat, and immediately lose balance, stumbling to the side. Thankfully, Jaeyunâs hand finds your waist before you can fallâit steadies your body but not your heart.Â
âCome on, Y/N. Letâs get you to bed.â
Does he hear himself? Heâs just being a good friend, so why does he have to phrase things in such an intimate way, and make your heart go all pitter-patter like the sixteen-year-old you once were? Why does he have to speak to you in that low, affectionate tone of his, like youâre someone he canât help but take care of?Â
You take a deep breath, resigning yourself to your fate. âOkay.â
He helps you off of your bike and into his car. His hold on you is gentle but firm, and you try your very hardest not to think about whether this is how he would hold you in other situations. Before he can even turn on the ignition, you close your eyes and pretend to sleep. You hear him chuckle, then back out of Chaewonâs and Jaeminâs driveway. Once or twice, you hear him inhale as though heâs going to speak, but he seems to decide against it. A ten-minute bike ride makes for a very short car ride, and before you know it, heâs already pulling up in front of your auntâs house. You keep your pretense up as he walks around the car and opens your door, and youâre sure you make a very convincing show of waking up and being sleepy.
As he takes your hand to help you out of the car, you ignore your instincts yelling at you to jump away from him. You tell yourself itâs only so you don't get caught in your lie that you let him slip an arm over his shoulders and guide you to your front door. It has nothing to do with the fact that your skin tingles everywhere it touches his, or that it feels terribly nice to be handled with so much care and patience. The front door is unlocked, and he holds you steady as you slip out of your shoes. Only when he closes the door behind you do you snap out of it.
âThank you, Yun. Iâll be alright from here.â
He narrows his eyes at you. âIâm not sure you will. I donât trust you not to trip up the stairs.â
You panic as he leads you further inside the house. âButâWhat if my aunt sees us?â
He stops in his tracks, then turns his head to look down at you with something you think is mischief in his eyes. âWhy? What about it?â
âShe might misunderstand!â you whisper-yell.
âWhatâs there to misunderstand, Y/N? Iâve taken you home drunk a dozen times before. Besides, Iâm just Jaeyun, right? This doesnât mean anything.â Youâre left speechless. So he did hear you earlier, and although he kept his tone light-hearted, something makes you think he isnât entirely unoffended. You stare at him, sure the guilt on your face is obvious. Eventually, he sighs, starts walking again. âIâm just teasing you.â
Despite yourself, you are glad heâs there to help you up to your bedroomâthe stairs are remarkably wobbly tonight. Even though he tries to sit you down gently onto your bed, you let yourself flop on the mattress, already half-asleep the moment your back hits it. Youâre uncharacteristically pliant as he guides you into a more comfortable position, lifting your head to rest on your pillows, pulling your duvet over you. You somehow feel more drunk now than you were leaving the party, as though Jaeyunâs touch and proximity are stronger than any alcohol. Maybe thatâs why you suddenly find this situation hilarious. Your first chuckle makes Jaeyunâs hand freeze on your blanket; then, when giggles start pouring uncontrollably out of you, he asks you whatâs so funny, and has to shush you, saying youâll wake your aunt up. But you can tell heâs amused, and it only makes you laugh more.Â
âSeriously, whatâs gotten into you?â he asks, sitting next to you. For some reason, the dip of his weight on the mattress feels reassuring.
âThis is just nice,â you mutter, eyes still closed. âIt feels nice.â
Heâs silent for a few seconds. âWhat is?â he whispers.
âThis. You being here.â
He releases a shaky breath. âIt could happen more often, if you let me. It could happen every night.â
You giggle, because you know heâs just joking around. But you let him, even if it hurts a little bit, and you play along. âYeah, thatâd be nice. I think Iâd sleep a lot better.â
With a delicate finger, he brushes strands of hair away from your eyes. You hum, smiling contentedly at his touch. This is such a nice dream that you hope you wonât have to wake up too soon from. âI think I would, too,â he whispers, voice shaky like he isnât at all happy like you are, which confuses you. âI donât know what to do, Y/N. I want so badly to take care of you, but you wonât let me. I donât know how else to show you how good I could be to you.â
âYouâre taking care of me now.â
âYeah, and youâre so drunk you probably wonât remember this tomorrow.â
He sniffles, and you suddenly get the sensation that this isnât a dream at all. You keep your eyes closed anyway, frowning as you turn your head to the side, tears starting to form behind your eyelids.
âBe back in a minute,â he whispers.
You open your eyes to find him gone. You try to make sense of what just happened, but your thoughts are muddled and hazy, and more questions than answers appear. You donât come to any satisfying conclusions, at least none that arenât clearly fueled by your delusions concerning Jaeyun.Â
When he comes back, heâs holding a tall glass of water. He seems briefly surprised to see you awake. He puts the glass gently down onto your bedside table, then kneels by your bed, grabbing your hand that youâd slipped above the comforter. He looks into your eyes with an intensity youâre unfamiliar with coming from him, and that makes your stomach twist. âListen, Y/N. Youâre only here for a few days, so Iâll be very clear about this. And if youâve forgotten by tomorrow, Iâll make sure to remind you.â He pauses here, takes a deep breath. Thereâs a furrow in his eyebrows as he speaks. He looks desperate, but for what, you couldnât tell. âIâm not letting you go this time. I feel like I keep losing you, over and over again, just when I think I finally have you. Iâm not letting that happen again. I donât want to be apart from you anymore.â
Your mind is reeling. You feel dizzy. You close your eyes, but it doesnât help. Jaeyunâs words are loud and nonsensical in your head. âDo you mean⊠as friends?â you ask, because the other option seems so impossible, even in your inebriated state, you can hardly seriously entertain it.
He sighs, and it sounds like disappointment. âIf thatâs what you want, then Iâll give up on trying to be more. But if it isnât what you want, then no.â
Your eyes fly open. Does that meanâŠ
âIâm in love with you, Y/N. Iâve always been, and I canât take hiding it anymore. Iâll take rejection over another day of pretending all I want to be is your friend. I want to talk to you everyday. I want to see you more often. I canât keep going like this, calling you once every few months and acting like Iâm fine with it.â
Youâre stunned into silence. Even your thoughts are frozen, your mind completely blank. How do you react to words youâve wanted to hear your whole life, and have convinced yourself you never would, not in a million years?
âIââ
âYou donât have to say anything now,â he interrupts, and youâre relieved. âWhatever it is, Iâd rather hear it when youâre sober. Iâm sorry for springing this up on you, I just⊠I think I wouldâve flaked out if I hadnât done it right now.â
He gazes down at you with a fondness youâve only seen in your dreams, and strokes your hair. âIâll let you sleep now. Iâll see you tomorrow, okay?â
âOkay,â you say, surprised you're able to speak.Â
âOkay.â
He seems to hesitate for a second, but whatever it is, he decides against it. He gets up, and with one final glance back at you, closes your bedroom door gently. You listen for his footsteps down the stairs, the sound of the front door, and of his car driving away, and find yourself wishing heâd stayed, wishing for proof that you didnât dream up everything he just said.Â
.
.
Iâm in love with you, Y/N.
You wake with a start. Jaeyunâs voice was so loud in your head, you thought he was standing right over youâbut itâs only your imagination playing tricks on you, you realize with some disappointment.Â
Some moments from last night are blurry or simply inexistent in your mind. Yurim sent selfies a bunch of you took to the group chat, of which you have no recollection being a part of. You have no idea how the marker doodles appeared on your arm, nor who is the artist behind them. But Jaeyunâs words you remember with dizzying, intimidating clarity, the words he spoke to you in the near-complete darkness of this room, and that you donât think you could ever forget, no matter your state.
Part of you has always longed to hear those words, but another part has always dreaded they would be heard one day. You donât know which part is stronger right now. Replaying his voice in your mind, your heart flutters at the same time as your stomach sinks. Theyâre words that have the power to change everything, that perhaps already have, and thatâs what terrifies you.
Itâs already ten in the morning. You wish you could stay here all day, safe under the covers, rehashing those words until they lose all meaning, but you know thatâs impossible. Not only do you have a pounding headache and a mouth drier than the desert to tend to, more importantly, you have a responsibility to be there for Chaewon and the things sheâs planned for today. So you force yourself out of bed and begrudgingly make your way downstairs.Â
Your aunt has already left for work. Breakfast is ready on the dining table, along with a tall glass of water, ibuprofen, and a note that reads: I didnât hear you come home last night, so I assume you had a good time. Take this and eat your weight in bread. Thereâs coffee left in the Keurig. Bless her. You know better than to eat too much, thoughâif thereâs one thing Chaewon takes seriously, itâs brunch, so you know youâll have plenty of food to cure your hangover in just a bit.Â
As hard as you try to divert your thoughts towards anything else, itâs impossible not to think of what Jaeyun said last night. Itâs all your mind circles back to, like a vulture thatâs found its prey and wonât let go. Despite that, the shock has yet to wear off, and you stare into your cup of coffee, searching in vain for answers there.
It took you a while to fall for Jaeyun, then it took you even longer to admit those feelings to yourself. At fourteen years old, stepping foot in Gimcheon for the first time, you wanted nothing to do with the people here. Not with your aunt, not with your classmates. You wanted to wallow in your grief, for the bitterness of the injustice thatâd taken your parents away from you to fully take over you.Â
Jaeyun was one of the people who didnât let that happen. Some of the kids in your class found you odd or standoffish, often whispering behind your back about your sudden arrival in town, but he and Chaewon never failed to try and talk to you despite your extremely low-effort replies, to invite you out for snacks or basketball after class, to send you the lessons you missed on days your body felt too heavy to get out of bed.Â
Nothing in particular happened for you to suddenly change your mind about them. Maybe it was because you thought theyâd stop pestering you if you just said yes, or because you sometimes felt the sharp loss of your friends in Seoul, whose calls youâd all ignored since moving. You surprised your new classmates as much as yourself when they asked you if you wanted to go eat tteokbokki with them, and you casually said, âSure, why not,â as if your acceptance was a daily occurrence.Â
The rest was history. Although it took some more time before you really opened up to them, they accepted you the way you were, sharp edges and all. With them, part of the person you were before could resurface, carefree, happy. You still went home to a mostly silent, grief-stricken relative, who was practically a stranger to you, but at least you could look forward to seeing your friendsâand something as simple as that made life easier every day.
As soon as you thought they started to appear, you tried to squash your feelings for Jaeyun, to no avail. Just when you told yourself you could never be more than friends, heâd bring you strawberry milk from the convenience store he walks by on his way to school. After spending an evening making a list of all the reasons itâd be a bad idea for you to date (itâd be awkward with your friends, you and your sadness would be a burden to him, it was too scary to get close to someone when they could leave you at any time), youâd wake up the next morning with a text that said, Good morning!!!! Did you know that if the Sun stopped shining, itâd take 8.5 minutes for us to realize it??!Â
But I know right away when youâre not shining
:)
Momâs making your favorite shrimp jeon tonight so you HAVE to come over
And even your strongest will wasnât enough against the force of his kindness. You were forced to submit to it, and to suffer for it for years to comeâwhen other girls offered him chocolate on Valentineâs Day. When Bae Sumin asked him to the dance, and you had to ignore his concerned expression as he repeatedly asked you if it was really okay that he went, and all you could do was smile and convince him that it was. When you left for university and you had to stop yourself from asking why it seemed to be making him so sad, so uncharacteristically upset with you, almost like he wanted to punish you for leaving him. When every time you came back after that, it became harder and harder to say goodbye to him again.
You got mad at him sometimes. If something unexpected reminded you of your parents, like your momâs favorite dish being served at the cafeteria, or someone using an expression your dad often said, youâd become irritable, and would be unable or unwilling to explain why. He was so patient with you then, even more attentive to your mood than usual, but the feeling of being treated kindly, like he needed to walk on eggshells around you, incomprehensibly made you even more abrasive. Youâd blow up at him: I donât need your help, I donât need your pity, get off my back, what are you even being so nice for anyways?
And his reply would only drive you further insane: Because I care about you.
Youâd always wish heâd say anything else, something less vague like Because itâs the right thing to do, or Because thatâs who I am, or even Because youâre my friend, but no, heâd say, âBecause I care about you,â and it was worse than anything he could ever say.
Because of course, friends care about each other. Of course they help each other out and do kind things for one another. But you so desperately wished Jaeyun could care for you in another way. And that was the problem: you couldnât stop yourself reading into his actions, devoid of the meaning you wanted them to have.
And there was always that lingering thought: Iâm leaving anyway. You were a city girl at heart. You missed the beauty stores that occupied five floors, the animal cafĂ©s you and your friends had spent way too much of your allowance at, the billboards of your favorite celebrities in the subway, the libraries with their wide range of manhwas for you to choose from. As much as youâd come to love your life in Gimcheon, you knew you couldnât stay. You knew you couldnât live on a nearby campus during the week and come back on the weekends like most of your friends would be doing.Â
At eighteen years old, you wanted a clean break. You wanted to attend a prestigious university, to dress up for class, to have study dates at a cozy cafĂ©, to go out to a club on the weekend and not worry about how youâd get home because the buses stopped running way before midnight. Youâd daydream about the cool job youâd have, the cool clothes youâd wear, the cool people youâd meet. Then youâd go downstairs and see your aunt, and sheâd ask if you were okay with frozen dumplings for a third night in a row. Or youâd arrive at school and see Chaewon and Yunjin shrieking over Got7âs new song. Or youâd get a text from Jaeyun, saying, Cats use physics to land on their feet. Theyâre not aware of it though. And suddenly, the idea of a clean break became much, much harder.
Once you left, your reasons for not confessing to Jaeyun didnât changeâif anything, they strengthened. Growing up didnât make you any less scared of opening up to someone, of letting them see the vulnerable sides of you, and hoping theyâd still love you. Even if you had a positive example in Chaewon and Jaeyun, youâd never experienced it with a romantic partner, and not only did your incessant but unconscious comparing of them to Jaeyun stop you from completely falling in love with the few boyfriends youâve had over the years, your inability to fully bare yourself emotionally to them inevitably caught up to you. Theyâd point it out, trying to coax your story and emotions out of you with kind words, gentle touchesâbut you never wanted it enough to make the extra effort. Theyâd take your independence as a personal affront, like it was a fault on their part that you were allergic to relying on others. Theyâd get frustrated. Some of them would yell at you while you stared off into the distance, numb, wondering if youâd always be like this. Theyâd break up with you, and youâd move on like nothing happened.
The fear of loss still froze your heart into place. Even in the throes of puberty, your mother and father were your two favorite people on Earth. At thirteen, you thought theyâd live forever. You were reasonable enough to know not everyone you loved would dieâalthough the thought of going through that grief again did keep you up at night. A bad break-up was enough to terrify you. And what would you do when you finally handed your heart to someone, only for them to turn around and decide they donât want it after all?
A handful of times, you tried to sit yourself down and imagine, as objectively as you could, what might happen if you confessed your feelings to Jaeyun. You tried, but you never could. It was too scary, with him. As your friend, he was the glue that held you together. If you took that one step closer, youâd be too far goneâand once that happened, who was to say, when it inevitably ended, if youâd ever be able to tape yourself back together.
Youâve had many self-indulgent thoughts over the years, many delusions youâve had to compel yourself away from when he looked at you a little long, grew a little too quiet when you talked about another boy, came up with increasingly ridiculous excuses to walk you home even though it was out of his way. Youâve worked so hard to bury them deep, and here he comes, so late on a Thursday night that it became a Friday morning, telling you it was neither self-indulgence nor delusion.Â
Itâs too much to process with a hangover.Â
Your shower doesnât have the relaxing effect you hoped it would have on your nerves. Even when you turn the temperature as low as you can take it, your skin burns hot at the thought of seeing Jaeyun again, of him repeating himself in broad daylight. By the time youâve dressed and gotten ready, your heart is still racing wild, and youâre no closer to figuring out what the correct attitude around him or right thing to say is.
Youâre tying your shoelaces when the doorbell rings. Of course, itâs Jaeyun standing behind the door, asking you if youâre ready to go to Chaewonâs.Â
You just gape at him. Youâd prepared yourself mentally to see him a little later, with other people aroundâyou hadnât expected this and your brain simply malfunctions as a result.
He chuckles. âI wasnât going to let you walk all the way there. You left your bike, remember?â
From his softened tone and the way he gulps as he awaits your answer, you can tell heâs not just asking whether you remember the drive home. He looks at you, a little expectant, a little scared, and his demeanor relaxes you. Heâs not acting like nothing happened last night, and he doesnât seem overly confident afterâwell, after confessing his love for you. Thatâs what it was, wasnât it? No matter how hard a time you have believing it. It relaxes you because it feels like youâre not worrying alone about this shift in your friendship, about this rearranging of things and feelings. With just one look, he tells you heâs right there with you.
And thatâs all you need.
âRight. Thanks, Yun.â
He stands there for a little, expression morphing into something giddier, more hopeful, and you wonder how long heâd stay there looking at you if you didnât clear your throat and say, âShould we⊠go?â
âYes! Yes, of course, letâs go,â he says, laughing awkwardly, rubbing the back of his head as he turns away and heads towards his car.
Surely, he canât always have been this obvious. Surely, if heâs been in love with you for as long as he says he has, then he learned just as well as you did to school his feelings and make them as discreet as he could. Because if he was acting this way all along, all boyish grins and non-stop glances your way, then you wouldâve had to be the densest person on Earth not to notice.
And it hurts your pride a little to think you mightâve actually been this dense.
After a minute on the road, he asks, âHow are you feeling? Not too hungover?â
âA little. But Iâll feel a lot better after having some of Chaeâs pancakes.â
âYeah. And the pressed orange juice as well. With theââ
ââOranges from her grandparentsâ garden?â you say at the same time, and laugh.
âYeah. Itâs the best,â he says.
âWhat about you?â you ask. âYou didnât drink that much last night, right?â
âYep. Just a beer at the start of the evening, and thatâs it.â Then, he smiles, a little smug, and adds: âWhy? Were you watching?â
You scoff, crossing your arms over your chest as though he was making a ridiculous assumption, when you very well knew you were constantly aware of his whereabouts last night. Of course you noticed him sipping on either water or Pepsi the entire evening. âI was not. But you were able to drive, so I assumed.â
âRight.â That smug smile of his is still fixed on his lips, so you know you sounded just as unconvincing as you felt. âWell, I was watching. And I can tell you you drank something like seven different sorts of alcohol last night.â
For your own sanity, you ignore the first part, and focus on the second. You groan, hiding your face in your hands. âThatâs why my headacheâs so bad.â
Jaeyun reacts immediately. His head turns back-and-forth between you and the road ahead as he says, âIs it? Did you drink enough water? There should be some painkillers in the glove compartment, if youââ
âItâs okay, Yun,â you interrupt, laughing softly. âI took some ibuprofen already. Iâll feel better after eating.â
He seems skeptical. âOkay. But let me know if you need anything, yeah?â
âI will.â
As you feel the tingle of incoming tears in your eyes, you turn your head away from him. Looking out the passenger window, you think how stark the difference is between being on the receiving end of Jaeyunâs attentiveness when you were just friends, and now that you know the way he really sees you. The crushing weight of your repressed emotions is, at last, gone, and youâre only left with a light-heartedness you havenât felt in years.
Is there really a universe where every day is like this? It feels too good to be true.Â
But when Jaeyun reaches out, the palm of his hand facing up as it floats above your thigh, his expression bashful, you think â you dare to hope â you might soon be living in that universe. You take his hand, and the rest of the car ride is silent, like this one simple touch is all the words you need.
Youâre glad you remember what he told you last night. Hearing it again now, in broad daylight, with no alcohol in your system to be blamed for your reactions, would be too much to bear. The mere thought of it has your heart racing, more than it already is from the warmth of Jaeyunâs hand in yours. You look down at it, the way it sits so prettily in your lap, the way his fingers intertwine with yours like itâs what they were meant to do. You crave to touch his hand more, to turn it around and analyze the lines of his palm, to feel the ridges of his knuckles, the smoothness of his nails under your fingers, but you stop yourself. Itâs an art piece in a museum that you content yourself with watching from afar, awed.
Too soon, you arrive at Chaewonâs house. The loss of Jaeyunâs touch is almost alarmingâwhat if he changes his mind and this was the only time youâd get to do this?
But as though he can read your thoughts, he guides you with a hand to your lower back towards Chaewonâs and Jaeminâs front doorâand he pauses before it, gazing down at you with a smile you want to interpret as reassuring.Â
Iâm not letting you go this time. Iâm not letting that happen.
Maybe youâre overly self-conscious, but you swear a few of your old classmates exchange knowing looks when you and Jaeyun arrive together. Chaewon is the least discreet about it, stopping in her tracks when she sees the two of you, a steaming plate of pancakes in her hands, her smile wide as she gets Jaeminâs attention and nods her head in your direction. You want to escape to the kitchen under the pretense of offering your help, but Jaeyun is already pulling out a chair for you and taking a seat in the one next to it.Â
Thankfully, almost everyone is in a state similar to yours, too hungover and tired to really pay either of you too much attention. Their minds are on the food in their plates and the coffee in their mugsâthe atmosphere is relaxed, everyone making quiet conversation with their neighbors. With Chaewon on your right and Jaeyun on your left, youâre free to scarf down hash browns and scrambled eggs without having to entertain anyone. He seems to be pretty engrossed in his chat about soccer with Jeno, and yet, he knows every time you need something, standing up and reaching for the bacon or the orange juice before youâve even said anything. He holds the plate while you serve yourself, then places it back to its original spot, shooting you a smile that never fails to make your stomach twist before returning his attention to Jeno.
Chaewon had kept this afternoonâs activities a secret, only telling you all to have your school uniform ready. Some came to brunch already wearing it, but you and a few other girls go up to Chaewonâs room to change. It feels like being back in a locker room again, a bit awkward, a bit fun, teasing Yunjin for her matching black lace set on this seemingly innocuous day, comparing the stretch marks youâve obtained in the years since you last wore your uniforms.
Itâs definitely odd, seeing yourself in the mirror in that familiar short-sleeved white shirt and knee-length marine skirt. Despite how badly you wanted to grow out of Gimcheon, some things have remained the sameâthat much, youâre forced to admit to yourself when you head back to the living room and see Jaeyun in his old school uniform, a blast from the past. He watches you come down the stairs with a smile, and you wonder if heâs thinking the same things you areâthat youâve never stopped feeling like a teenager around him, and that no matter where you were in life, seeing him was enough to make your dull heart race.
His uniform still fits him okay, although itâs impossible not to notice how his arms and thighs strain against the fabric now, sleeves not quite reaching his wrists. Try hard as you might, your eyes drift to the way his button-up clings to his chest, and itâs clear he isnât oblivious to it. You swallow as you walk towards him, hands coming up to fix his tie like itâs second nature. âSeriously, Yun,â you mutter. âIt was cute when you were seventeen, but at twenty-eight, really?â
He only smirks down at you, making you more flustered than you already wereâand it doesnât help when everyone in the room oohâs at your gesture. You take a step back, but the damage has been done. Itâs like youâre in high school again, rolling your eyes at your friends when they ask if you and Jaeyun are finally dating, pretending like the mere thought doesnât have butterflies erupting in your stomach.Â
âI remember how Y/N used to fix his tie in front of the school gates every morning,â Chaewon says loudly, and you glare at her. âShe said she didnât want him to get scolded by teachers.â Everyone erupts in a chorus of so cute and I canât believe theyâre still not together and Iâm sure they used to have a crush on each other. She looks happy with herself, blissfully unaware of the chaos sheâs created for youâitâs been hard enough acting normally around Jaeyun this morning, you donât need the added spotlight.
He doesnât seem to share that sentiment, though. When he speaks, his voice cuts through the chatter. âMy dad taught me how to tie a tie before middle school. But I was running late once and she fixed it for me. I always messed it up on purpose after that.â He turns to you. Your jaw is slack, your heart a wild, frantic mess. âGuess that trick still works.â
This really is high school all over again. Your classmates act like theyâve witnessed the revelation of the century, cheering and clapping, the boys clasping Jaeyunâs shoulder like he just scored the winning goal. Chaewon squeals. Yunjin pretends to faint. Youâre rooted to your spot, too bewildered to react.
âSo you really did like her back then, didnât you?â Jeno asks, and everyone stops talking, awaiting Jaeyunâs answer with what seems like bated breathâyou included, as though he didnât tell you all about it last night.
He shrugs, but his grin, sheepish and bright at once, says it all. âIâll let you guys come to your own conclusions.â When he turns to look at you, despite the fact that you want to strangle him for putting you on the spot like this, you canât deny that his confession is a little bit â just a little bit â adorable. You think of fifteen-year-old Jaeyun looking at himself in the mirror, proud of himself for putting on his tie wrong, and you canât help but smile. Of course, this only makes your friends crazier, but Jaeyun, as if heâs suddenly decided this was enough attention, says, âIs everyone ready? Letâs head out now.â
Chaewon instructs you all to meet in your high school parking lot. On the drive over, Jaeyun apologizes, asking if what he did was too much.
âItâs okay,â you tell him. âEven if I was a little embarrassed.â
âI wasnât planning on doing anything like it, but seeing you in your uniform brought back memories, I guess,â he says, bashful. âI did say I would remind you of what I told you last night, didnât I?â
You shrug, smile down at your hands. âYou did. But itâs not like Iâd forgotten.â
He doesnât answer right awayâbut then, he suddenly looks over at you, and says, âYouâre really pretty.â
Your stomach flips. You look down at yourself to avoid his gaze as heat creeps up your face. âWhat are you sayingâŠâ you mutter.
âI never told you properly when we were in high school. So Iâm telling you now. I always thought you were the prettiest, Y/N.â
You fight it hard, but you canât bite back your smile. All you can do is hide your grin behind your fist, resting your elbow on the sill of the open window as you turn away from him. For only a brief second, as if spurred on by the confidence his compliment gave you, you change your mindâyou turn to him and abruptly say, âAnd I always thought you were the most handsome.â Then you whip back to the window and grin at the trees lining the road. But you feel his eyes on you, and when you look back at him, heâs staring at you, mouth agape. âYun! Look at the road!â you chide, laughing.
âSorry, sorry!â he exclaims, taking his eyes off you. âButâYouâSeriously?â
You canât believe it, how incredulous he sounds, how he seems as surprised as you felt last night. As you still feel now. âOf course,â you say quietly, feeling shy again.Â
Heâs quiet for a few seconds. Then, âSeriously?!â he repeats, louder, almost yelling.
âRelax,â you say, laughing at his enthusiasm. âItâs not like I was the only one. Half the girls in our class had a crush on you.â
âDid they?â he asks, a shit-eating grin on his lips. You roll your eyes.
âYou only received love letters, like, once a month.â
âBut never from the person I wanted to receive one from.â
You hold his gaze for a second. Then another, and anotherâbut you canât handle more than that. The way he looks at you, you feel too seen. Like he can read your every thought, like he can see your heart beating through your chest, your breath making its shaky way up your throat. It makes you too vulnerable, makes your desire to soak in his affection, to let him keep talking to you like this, too strong. Itâs a feeling too unfamiliar for you to accept yet.
You return to your spot, turned away from him, elbow on the windowsill. âWhatever,â you mumble.
But it seems like you admitting to having found him handsome when you were teenagers is all the confirmation he needs. Throughout the rest of the afternoon, he sticks close to your side. Since school is out for the summer, Chaewon asked Yunjin to convince her higher-ups to let your group have a ten-year high school reunion there. They agreed and got one of the janitors to act as your supervisor, as if you would damage or steal school property. In any case, he follows you around quietly while you and your classmates roam the old, familiar walls, reminiscing about all the stupid things you did, the gossip that felt like the most important thing in your lives at the time, the teachers you hated, the upperclassmen you crushed on. Mostly, you take loads and loads of pictures, reenacting memories, huddling together in front of the classroom door of your final year. Jaeyun always finds himself right behind you in the group pictures, his taller frame so close to yours you can feel his warmth.
He rests his hand on your shoulder for one of the photos, and your brain short-circuits at a touch that you wouldnât have thought about twice as a teenager. Sure, back then, Jaeyunâs touch made you feel giddy, but it was also the most natural thing in the world. Linking arms on the way home from school. Your head on his shoulder during a long bus ride. His fingers in your hair when you let him play around with it. He always said it was practice for his future daughter: âI want her to have the prettiest hairstyles in all of her school,â heâd say, as if she was already here. And youâd think to yourself, Heâll make such a great dad. And although he was someone you could tell anything to, for reasons you didnât like to think too much about at that time, this was something you kept to yourself. Now, you can hardly breathe from a hand on your shoulder. But now, you can also finally admit to yourself why that is.
And with every passing moment, every smile shared, every delicate touch of his hand to your arm, of your fingers brushing against each other, you think that maybe, just maybe, you might finally be able to admit to him why that is.
A while later, when everyone parts ways, heading home to get a few hours of rest before the big day tomorrow, Jaeyun asks you if you can hang back for a bit. Heâs so cute about it, so much like a schoolboy asking his crush out, that you canât turn him down despite the sleep you desperately need.
The soccer field by your school is surprisingly unoccupiedâeven at this time of year, when the school hallways are empty, there are usually teenagers playing here. You yourself used to spend entire afternoons here, chatting with Chaewon while the boys played soccer under the blazing sun. You remember pretending you werenât engrossed in the sweat beading on Jakeâs forehead or the way his cheeks turned crimson with the effort, and cheering for him whenever he scored a goal and turned towards you, yelling out âDid you see that?!â with that puppyish grin on his lips.
You remember the nights you spent here as well, the last summer before you left, when you and your friends wanted to drink without the adults seeing. Youâd lay side-by-side, looking up at the stars as you shared your dreams and fears for the future. If Jaeyunâs hand brushed against yours, youâd wait a few seconds, then move your hand to rest on your chest instead. You always wondered if he noticed it, the small touch, its removal. You know your hand burned with both.Â
He leads you to the soccer field now, his hand warm and gentle in yours, like heâs scared holding on too tight will scare you off. Heâs silent for a while, quietly bringing you down with him until youâre laying on the grass togetherâthis time, you keep his hand preciously in yours, even as your palms turn clammy, even as the memories of being here like this flood in.
The summer breeze has nearly lulled you to sleep when he speaks, his voice soft, careful not to startle you. âI hated the last day of school.â
You turn your head to look at him, but he keeps his eyes trained on the blue sky above. âOf course you did. You were such a nerd, you wouldâve stayed in school forever if you couldâve.â
He smiles, but he shakes his head. âNo, thatâs not it.â His tone is calm, full of significance, which you feel even more when he rests his steady gaze on yours. âIt meant time was running out. It meant Iâd spent five years liking you and still hadnât had the balls to tell you.â
You gulp. Youâre suddenly not in the mood to tease him at all. âOh,â is all you can manage to say.
He laughsâclearly, seeing you flustered is amusing to him. âYeah.â He props himself up on his elbow, gazing down at you in a way that sends your heart into a frenzy. âI got a little carried away last night,â he starts. âWhen Chaewon told me about her plans to dress in our school clothes and come here â yes, she told me before everyone else, donât look at me like that â Iâd planned to tell you today, I had a whole thing written out, but last night, you⊠I donât know, you were drunk so maybe I shouldnât have put so much weight to your words, but it sounded like you might like me back? And I couldnât stop myself. I had to tell you immediately. And today⊠Iâm not mistaken, right? You do like me?â
Tears prickle at your eyes. To think that this has been on his mind for so long, that youâre the reason behind the worried look on his face, that heâs the one asking for your confirmationâyou can hardly make sense of it all. If only youâd looked closer, if youâd been less scared, you mightâve been wearing this exact same outfit, laying in this exact same place, ten years earlier. This isnât to say that you arenât scared anymoreâyouâre terrified out of your wits. But looking into Jaeyunâs face, you donât need to search very long to find reassurance.
âI do, Yun. I really, really do.â
He only stares back at you for a few beats, as if waiting for you to change your mind, to tell him youâre joking. When you donât, his mouth breaks into a wide, radiant smile, and he lets himself fall on his back, hands coming up to hide his face.Â
Suddenly, you realize how real this is. How genuine Jaeyun is. It isnât a cruel prank heâs decided to play on you, but the truth of what he feels for you. For what must be the first time since last night, you let yourself react the way any sane person would upon finding out the person theyâve loved for years loves them back: youâre happy. Unbelievably, indescribably happy. And itâs terrifying when you know this happiness might be ripped from your hands at any momentâbut youâll worry about that later. Right now, all you see is the man laying next to you, his smile full of light, his sweet, glimmering eyes. A small tear escapes your eye at the same time as a chuckle leaves your throat.
He returns to his previous position, grinning down at you while he rests his upper body on his elbow. âOkay, this is totally cool. Iâm not freaking out at all,â he says, making you laugh. His smile widens. He picks a daisy from the ground, reaches for your hand. Tying the stem around your ring finger, he says, âI wanted to tell you this today, in our school uniforms, as a way to get justice for my teenager self. I know itâs silly, but I feel like Iâm only able to do this because he liked you so much.âÂ
But it isnât silly at all. Itâs the nicest, most romantic thing anyone has ever done for you.
He takes a deep breath, looks up from where your hand rests in his, to your eyes. âI love you, Y/N. Iâm sorry it took me so long to tell you. And I canât explain to you how happy I am that I still have a chance after all this time.â
Itâs not a singular tear rolling down your face anymore, itâs the whole waterworks threatening to explode the longer Jaeyun looks at you with those eyes, so tender and full of affection. You roll onto your side, resting your forehead against his shoulder so he canât see your faceâitâs enough that he can hear your sniffling, that he can feel your shoulders shake against him, especially as he wraps an arm around your waist to bring you closer. Your feelings overwhelm youâyou want to cry, to laugh, to hold him as tight as you can, to run away and stop him from witnessing how vulnerable he makes you. With his free hand, he pets your hair, saying he hopes these are happy tears.
âTheyâre very, very happy tears,â you reply between sobs. You probably sound ridiculous, but Jaeyun doesnât seem to mind, holding you through it all.
âGood,â he whispers.
Itâs a shame that it took you this long to realize you forgot something you shouldnât ever haveâthat people are the most important. Not relying on the ones you love doesnât make you strong, it makes you a fool.Â
Jaeyunâs presence is reassuring, familiar, and you picture a life in which you lean on his shoulder and cry when you need to. In which you hold him tight and share every moment with him, not just the happy ones. It sounds so much better than what youâve been doing for the past ten years. He smiles at you, and youâre flooded with the relief and gratitude that this is the life he wants, too.
For a while, he just holds you, the sun shining down on your bodies. This is what you were so fearful ofâJaeyunâs familiar scent enveloping you, his hand rubbing reassuring circles against your back, his hair soft in your hands. Eventually, he says, voice just loud enough for you to hear, âLater, will you talk to me? Will you tell me why you drifted from me?âÂ
Thereâs no anger in his tone, no admonition. Guilt still pangs in your stomach, but thatâs only because you know how badly he deserves an explanation, and because youâre amazed that even now, heâs so patient and understanding with you. âI will,â you reply.
You donât know how long you stay there, laughing at Jaeyunâs anecdotes of all the ways he tried to show you he liked you. All the times he ran home in the rain because you didnât bring an umbrella, all the fish cakes he sacrificed because they were your favorite part of tteokbokki, all the pocket money he spent on your favorite snacks.Â
âI thought about you so often once you left,â he says. âI worried so much. If you were eating well, if you were making new friends at university. Then if your job was treating you well. I wanted to call you all the time, but I didnât want to annoy you. I thought you were moving on, and that maybe I should too. But I never was able to.â
Youâre a little bashful as you tell him that you never did, either. âI compared all the guys I dated to you. And they were never as nice, as thoughtful, asââ
âAs handsome, as smart, as amazing as me, I get it, donât worry,â he teases, and you swat his shoulder lightly.Â
âObviously, but you donât need to be so smug about it.â
âIf youâre going to tell me none of your little boyfriends measured up to me, of course Iâm going to be smug about it, are you kidding me? This is the best news Iâve received in my life.â
You only realize how long youâve been lying there when your phone dings with a text from your aunt, asking whether youâll be home for dinner. Itâs almost seven p.m. alreadyâthe two of you spent three hours, just talking and laughing. He pouts a little when you tell him you should head home, but he obliges anyway.
When he drops you off at your auntâs house, he comes out of the car with you and hugs you tightly before you head inside. âThank you for this afternoon. Iâll see you tomorrow, yeah?â he says, lips moving against your hair.
You nod and, with a quick peck to his cheek, you bolt for your front door before he can react and try to do something crazy, like properly kiss you.
âWait, before you go,â he says as you grab the door handle. Turning around to look at him, breath catches, thinking heâs going to tell you something important, yet another thing that will change your lifeââCan you tell me about those lame dudes you dated again?â
You roll your eyes, biting back a smile. âGoodbye, Jaeyun.â
âYou love me!â
You smile at him, wide and unabashed.Â
Because you do love him. You really, really do.
.
.
You plop yourself on the couch next to your aunt, the latest Drag Race season playing on the TV. She hands you the bag of caramel popcorn and you grab a handful.Â
âI heard a car,â she says. âDid Jaeyun drop you off? Is that why youâre smiling so much?â
You only now notice the ache in your cheeks. âIâm not smiling that much,â you say, forcing your features into humorlessness, but the corners of your lips keep rising of their own volition.
âYouâre smiling a lot. More than you already usually do with him,â she says, giving you a knowing look.
You gape at her. âDonât tell me you knew too?â
âKnew what? That you and Jaeyun have liked each other since you were teenagers? I mightâve had an inkling, yeah.â
Her grin is wicked as you bury your face in your hands, groaning. âSo it really was everyone but him and me.â
âI think you knew,â she says, her tone gentle. âBut you didnât want to admit it to yourself. Especially in the last few months before you left, youâd always get a look about your face when I mentioned him. You never wanted to say you were sad to be leaving, but it was clear you were, if only because of him.â
You frown. âI was sad to leave you, too. And Chaewon, and Yunjin. And Mrs. Kim, because I knew I wouldnât find better tteokbokki anywhere else.â
She shrugs. âSure. But you were sad to leave Jaeyun in particular.â
You fidget with your hands, letting her words sink in. âAnd I have to leave him again in two days,â you whisper.
She wraps an arm around your shoulder, squeezes it slightly. âBut itâll be different this time around, right?â
DIfferent. Youâll call. Youâll make plans for him to come. Youâll let him into your life, into your heart. Youâll let him break down your walls, brick by brick.
âYeah. It will,â you say quietly, willing your worries to dissipate.
You meet her gaze, and she smiles. Jaeyun is only one of the many people youâve kept at bay for too long now.
âCome on,â she says, getting up from the couch. âIâm making meatball pasta, your favorite.â
âItâs your favorite.â
It was one of the few meals she made on rotation whenever she had time to cookâit is your favorite, only because eating it meant you were spending the evening together. You cut vegetables while she seasons the meat, telling each other about your day. Maybe itâs because youâre in such a wonderful mood from your afternoon with Jaeyun, but the atmosphere between the two of you feels particularly light-hearted today, which is why youâre so surprised when she suddenly tells you you should talk about âwhat happened last time.â Your stomach clenches, but you nodâyou knew it was going to happen sooner or later, so you might as well get over it quickly, and she seems to be of the same opinion.
âI know weâre both bad at this, so Iâll keep it short,â she starts, keeping her eyes on the preparation. You really are cut from the same clothâyou continue chopping carrots, glad to have something to do with your hands. âIâm sorry about those things I said. It was an emotional time for both of us, what with Jaeyunâs grandmother and all, but I shouldnât have let my emotions get the best of me. Itâs my fault we never talked about your parents. About your mom. I know you wouldâve liked to, but I never could. And you do remind me of her. Gosh, you look so much like her at your age. But you canât do anything about that, and what I said about looking at you and seeing her, that wasnât fair. It sounded like I blamed you, which is the last thing I wanted to do.
âShe always took care of me, because she was older than me by so many years, you know. She called herself my second mom. And all of a sudden, it felt like I had to take care of her. Itâs ironic, since my literal job is to take care of people, but I didnât know how to, with you.â
âI didnât make it easy. I barely talked to you,â you say quietly. Itâs true that you canât expect the same maturity from a teenager and a young adult, but thinking back on it, you canât help but think you couldâve been softer on your aunt. More understanding. You wanted her to replace your parents while resenting her for it. You made no effort at communication yet pushed her away every time she made an attempt to talk to you.
âYou were so young, and dealing with all that loss. I shouldâve tried harder, but you seemed so independent, spending all that time with your friends, making yourself dinner when I wasnât home. It felt like you didnât need me, and I have to admit, I was relieved. I was hanging on by a thread. I didnât know how I could take care of a whole other human being.â
Your breathing is shallow. You spent so many years struggling, each of you in your little corner, at armâs length from each other but too scared to reach out a hand.
âIt felt like you didnât want me around,â you whisper, head hanging low.Â
âOh, honey.â She drops her spoon and in a second has you wrapped in her arms, the tightest hug sheâs ever given you, tighter than when you first arrived at her house, tighter than when you first left. âIâm so, so sorry. I was so glad to have you here. Sure, it was a reminder that Iâd lost my sister, but you were a reason to keep going. I had to go to work so you could eat. I had to stay healthy enough to work. You were the only person on this planet that needed me. Iâm sorry I didnât do a better job of it, and that I didnât show you how much I needed you. How much I love you. But I promise that I never, ever wished you werenât with me.â
Itâs impossible to keep the tears at bay at this point. Tears start pouring down your face, and at the sight, her own tears quickly follow suitâyou sob in each other's arms, apologizing over and over again, and by the time youâre done, the meatballs are overcooked and yet the best youâve ever had.
Between Jaeyun this afternoon, and your aunt this evening, today has been a whirlwind of emotionsâwith Chaewonâs wedding tomorrow, youâll probably be drained on your flight back to the city. You have half a mind to take Monday off, just so you can rest from your holiday.Â
For now, youâll rest from today. Youâre exhausted, but it takes a while for sleep to claim youâyour mind is reeling, replaying Jaeyunâs words, the unspoken promises they contain. Your heart is still swelling with hope when you finally fall asleep.
.
.
It takes a few seconds for yesterdayâs events to come back to you after you wake up. It feels like reliving them all over againâJaeyunâs face next to yours on the soccer field, his hand in yours on the drive home, the conversation with your aunt that feels like one of many steps towards the right direction. And to think you dreaded this weekend for months before coming here.
When Jaeyun pulls up in front of your auntâs house, sheâs quicker than either of you, opening the door before heâs even reached it and inviting him in for coffee. You make a quick mental note of his outfit, a matching dark green suit and vest with a white button-up that fit him a little too well, the veins that run along his forearms down to his hands prominent and a debilitating sight if youâve ever seen one. Out of concern for your well-being you put that image immediately out of your headâyou really donât need to know how attractive Jaeyunâs hands are.
While youâre trying to gather yourself, with a wide smile, your aunt stares at him sipping his drink, eyes darting around the room awkwardly. Heâs always been a little nervous around her, which confused you back then, but endears you nowâbefore every party he picked you up for, heâd be overly polite, assuring her heâd get you home early and safe, standing with his back straight in your hallway as he waited for you like someone trying to impress their girlfriendâs father. Sheâd wave him off, telling you you could come home shit-faced at three a.m. as long as you were with âthis guy.â
Itâs so obvious that sheâs over-the-moon about him being her nephew-in-law. When he clears his throat, saying, âIâll take good care of Y/N, I hope you can trust me,â like this is the seventies and he needs to ask her for your hand, she laughs in his face.
âOh, Iâm not worried about you. Itâs her Iâm worried about.â
âAuntie?â
She ignores you, slides her elbows on the table towards Jaeyun in a conspiratorial manner. âListen. She can be very grumpy in the morningââ
âAuntie?!â
âAnd she overthinks everything, even if sheâll never let you know about it. She gets all these crazy ideas about people in her head, so just make sure to talk to her a lot so you know whatâs going on up there. Even if you have to force her.â
Youâre glaring at her by the time sheâs done, but Jaeyunâs delighted. âThank you for the advice. Iâll make sure to remember it.â
âGood. Now, off you two go. Iâll meet you tonight for the party,â she says with one last wink at you, unfazed by your I-will-murder-you expression as she gets up to put the empty mugs in the sink.
In the car, Jaeyun breaks the silence first. âSo, grumpy in the morning, huh?â
âOh my God,â you mutter, bringing a hand to your temple like your head aches. âI liked it better when you were terrified of her.â
Jaeyun laughs, reaching for your hand and resting it on your lap. âItâs okay. Iâll cheer you up every morning like my life depends on it.â You purse your lips to stop them from curving into a smile. It doesnât work. âPlus, I canât imagine youâd be grumpy waking up to this,â he says, pointing to his face.
You roll your eyes. âDonât be so sure of yourself,â you say as though you donât agree with himâseeing him first thing in the morning would surely do wonders for your mood, not just when you wake up, but for the entire day.
You know heâs only teasing you, but you have an unexpected problem to deal with now: thoughts of waking up to Sim Jaeyun, thoughts of being in a bed with Sim Jaeyun, thoughts of what usually happens when two people who love each other share a bed. You gulp. When you look over at him, thereâs only a serene smile on his lips. One day in, and youâre already getting carried away. Heâs probably not even thinking about such things, and you feel guilty about the dull ache in your stomach created by the pictures that your brain is conjuring.
When you arrive at the town hall, youâre greeted by your old friends, standing on the steps in their best clothes. The weather is perfect, the sun shining down warmly but a small breeze stops you from sweating your clothes off. Chaewon and Jaemin decided against staying cooped up in a small room before the ceremonyâthey thought itâd be much nicer to be there to greet their guests, and that getting to be around each other would prevent any last-minute nerves.
A little before eleven, Chaewonâs sister and Jaeminâs siblings, as the bridesmaids and groomsmen, start ushering everyone in. Once youâre seated inside and waiting for the ceremony to start, Jaeyun leans down towards you, and, quietly enough so only you hear him, whispers, âShould we hijack their wedding? They havenât been waiting as long as I have.â
You gasp at his words, lightly swatting his chest while he only grins at you, clearly satisfied with your reaction.
âIâm just kidding,â he says. âThis isnât how Iâm planning on proposing.â
âPlanning onâSim Jaeyun, be serious for a second.â
âWhat?â he asks, feigning an innocent tone even as mischief stays written on his features. âIâm very serious about propoââ
Who knows how his sentence ends, because his words are muffled by the hand you put over his mouth.
The ceremony is beautiful, presided over by Chaewonâs dad, who says that in all his years as mayor of Gimcheon, there isnât a marriage heâs been happier to officiate than todayâs. As Chaewon recites her vows, all you can see is your best friend at fifteen, crying because her favorite idol was embroiled in a dating scandal; at seventeen, making vision boards out of her momâs old wedding magazines; at twenty-two, giggling on the phone because, âDid you know Na Jaemin has had a serious glow-up since high school?â
At twenty-five, telling you she hopes youâll find the person who makes you as happy as Jaemin makes her.Â
Jaeyunâs hand stays in yours the entire time. You feel him glancing over you a few times, but youâre too scared that if you meet his eyes, youâll break down crying, and youâve done enough of that to last you a few weeks.
There are many pictures to be taken outside of the town hall, plus the bouquet toss â when Giselle catches it, Jenoâs face turns crimson â so itâs a while before you can all start heading to the cottage that Chaewonâs and Jaeminâs family have rented out for the occasion, for extended family and friends who couldnât be lodged at someoneâs house to stay in. For lunch, the caterer has prepared a large cold buffet with everything from thin slices of meat to charcuterie boards and three types of potato salad.
Itâs a really idyllic place theyâve chosen, especially in the middle of Julyâthe flowers are in full bloom, climbing cream and pink roses spilling over metal trellises, the scent of lavender bushes wafting delicately through the air. Chairs and tables covered in white drapes are neatly set around the garden and huge ribbons made of alabaster-colored gaze decorate a large oak tree.Â
You know from a phone call with Chaewon that as hands-on as she was with the wedding preparations, there was one thing that hadnât been up to her to organizeâthe afternoon activity, between lunch with family and close friends and dinner with a larger number of guests. Jaeminâs sisters had told her theyâd take care of it. âBut theyâre the kind of people who give people missions to do at parties,â she complained. âI once had to win at rock-paper-scissors with three total strangers.â
âBut no oneâs forcing you to participate,â you said.
âIt was a question of pride,â she replied, firm. âI had to make a good impression.â
You can see the relief flood over Chaewonâs features when they announce that theyâve planned a scavenger hunt for this afternoon, and that those who donât wish to partake can hang back and have a rest. The groups are assigned randomly, so youâre separated from Jaeyun, but your teammates are friendlyâJaeminâs great-aunt and Chaewon seven-year-old little cousin make for a surprisingly comedic duo, and you and Giselle, who you can confirm once and for all is much cooler than her boyfriend Jeno, spend the whole time cracking up at their antics.
Jaeminâs sisters have created a list of clues to guide you to different places around the venue, where you need to complete little tasksâeach team starts out with a different clue, and is guided around by the new clues they find at each spot. In the guest book by the entrance, you each describe a memory you share with the bride or groom; by the lily pond, the four of you take a polaroid picture as a keepsake for the newlyweds; behind the bar, thereâs a corkboard on which you can tack heart-shaped pieces of paper and write down your predictions for their marriage. You write down that theyâll have 3 under 3, and Chaewonâs cousin writes that theyâll get to drink milkshakes for breakfastâwhen you ask him what thatâs about, he says that his mom said only adults are allowed milkshakes for breakfast, âand adults are usually married, so maybe thatâs what theyâll do.â
You arrive in fifth place, so you only win a piece of candy eachâbut when you find Jaeyun again, he tells you gloatingly that heâll share his third-place box of chocolates with you. Slowly after that, more guests start arriving, including your aunt. The main room opens up, and you see just how much effort Chaewon has put into all of thisâitâs straight from her Pinterest board, with white roses in the center of every table, tulle curtains draped over the windows, and fairy lights adorning the walls. Candied almonds in small white bags, with a tag that reads C+J, rest on every plate as gifts for the guests. The cottage was the perfect choice for the reception, with its wooden panels that contrast against the cream-colored decorations. Theyâve hired Beomgyu, an old high school friend of yours, as their DJ, and for now, as heâs setting up his station, a relaxed R&B playlist drifts quietly through the speakers.
Youâre seated between Yunjin and Jaeyun. You mingle at first, champagne glass in hand as you catch up with Chaewonâs mom, at whose house you spent so many of your teenage hours. She has stars in her eyes, telling you how happy she is for your daughter, and when she asks whether thereâs a lucky man in your life, you canât help but glance at Jaeyun, whoâs talking with Mrs. Lee, one of his old elementary school teachers, Chaewonâs colleague now. She follows your gaze and exclaims in delight. âChaewon always said you two would end up together! Well, better late than never,â she says with a wink. Someone calls her name then, and youâre left to process her words.
Considering Yunjin and your aunt had you figured it out, it isnât so surprising that Chaewon wouldâve long been aware of your and Jaeyunâs feelings for each otherâwhatâs taking you aback is the fact she never said anything. She teased you just as much as your classmates did, and she did ask you a couple of times if you really didnât feel anything for him (which you always adamantly declined, and you understand now that that mustâve only made her only more suspicious of you), but she never pushed any further. Her words from a few days earlier suddenly come back to youââI promise you someone is out there. Maybe closer than you think.â
You make a mental note to find a minute alone with her tonight, and congratulate her for being much smarter and perceptive than you ever were.
The appetizers start rolling outâJaeyun is still so engrossed in his conversation with Mrs. Lee that you go ahead and make him a plate with a little bit of everything. When you hand it to him, he looks at you like youâve just handed him a million bucks. After you go back to your seat, you often feel him or Mrs. Lee glancing your way, and you have an inkling of what they might be talking about.
Before the main course, the parents give their speeches togetherâJaeminâs share embarrassing anecdotes of their son and thank Chaewon for taking him off their hands; Chaewonâs mom is so emotional throughout her speech that her husband has to take over her parts.Â
The atmosphere at your table during dinner is great, and itâs very entertaining to see the champagne start to get to everyoneâs headsâyouâve only had a couple glasses, and Jaeyun is driving later, so youâre both sober watching your friends exaggerate everything they say and laugh over nothing much. When youâre done eating, his hand often finds yours underneath the table, and it never fails to make your insides feel pleasantly warm.Â
After dinner, the music suddenly shuts off for a few seconds, before Canât Help Falling In Love by Elvis Presley, the song for Chaewonâs parentsâ first dance at their own wedding, which she wanted to turn into a tradition. Everyone watches the couple gently swaying around the dance floor. They look at each other as though they are the only people in this entire room; on this entire planet. After a minute, other couples start joining them; when Jaeyun stands up and offers you his hand, you donât even hesitate for a second.
You feel a little shy, standing before him and looking into his eyes, so you rest your head on his chest instead, letting him hold you close to him and guide you around the dance floor, one arm around your waist, holding your hand in his free one.
âThank you for waiting for me,â you say, lifting your face a little so he can hear you.
He bends down towards you, his lips grazing your forehead as he speaks. âThank you, too, angel.â The nickname is unexpected, and makes your heart skip a beat. When he presses his lips to the top of your head, you think that if this wasnât your best friendâs wedding, you might be debating the ethics of leaving before dessertâs been served. âI promise Iâll make you happy,â he whispers.
âYou already are.â You wish you could live in the way he gazes down at you, eyes warm and full of adoration. âYou make me feel like a teenager. Like Iâm still the sixteen-year-old who got giddy at the thought of seeing you at school every morning.â
âIs that right?â he asks, smile turning a little smug. You like nervous, bashful Jaeyun betterâthis Jaeyun, the intensity of his gaze as it trails down your face until it reaches your lips, the feeling of his thumb roving across your waist, makes you want to curl up and hide your face in the crook of his neck. He makes your knees weak and your breath shaky.
You stop yourself from looking away, eyes set on his as you nod your head.
âThatâs funny, because Iâm very aware that weâre not teenagers anymore,â he says.
You donât ask what he means by that, and he doesnât offer an explanation, so youâre left to ponder his words on your ownâalthough the tone with which he spoke, teasing and enticing, canât leave you with much room for interpretation.
But just as your eyes drift down to his lips, and you swear he leans a fraction of the way in, the song is over. You step back from him a second after every couple has separated, turning towards the newlyweds and clapping for them.Â
Itâs back to 2010s pop after that, and he doesnât let you go back to your seatâthe rest of your friends quickly join you anyway, and even you canât say no to jumping around and screaming the lyrics when itâs Lady Gaga and Black Eyed Peas playing. Jaeyun makes you spin around, his hands firm on your hips during more sensual songs, his worst (or best, if you ask him) moves on display whenever a song calls for it, and you canât stop laughing.Â
You need a large drink of water eventually, and take the opportunity to look for Chaewon. You find her at the dessert buffet, stacking mini brownies on her plate. She looks startled when you call her name. âThese arenât all for me,â she says quickly.
âIâm not judging,â you say, smiling.
âOkay, good, âcause theyâre definitely all for me. I barely ate all night âcause I was so nervous and Iâm famished now.â
You laugh and get a plate, filling it with more food for her before leading her to your presently unoccupied table. âThank you,â she says with an exaggerated sigh as she plops down on Yunjinâs chair. âI love my family, but theyâve been taking up all of my attention. I just wanna come dance with you guys.â
âWeâll join them in a bit. Can I just tell you something first?â
She tilts her head at you, her smile like she already knows what youâre about to say. âOf course. And,â she says, taking your hands in hers, âIâve got something to ask you, too. But you go first.â
You surprise yourself with how easily the words come to youâno hesitation over how to phrase it, no nervousness. They feel so natural, rolling off your tongue. âMe and Jaeyun are together.â
She squeals, immediately throwing her arms around you. âI knew it! Finally! It took you guys so long, I was so close to intervening and playing Cupid myself. Oh, Y/N!â she exclaims, bringing you into another hug, not letting you place a word. âLove is in the air. You know, I think knowing Jae and I were getting married mightâve been the trigger for Jaeyun. When he told me he wanted to confess to you over this weekend, I was ecstatic. You can basically thank me for having a boyfriend.â
You laugh. âThank you, Chaewon. Youâve known all along, havenât you?âÂ
She nods proudly. âIt was always so obvious. Jaeyun told me a few months after high school ended, but youââ She points an accusing finger at you. âYou never did! But you tried too hard to pretend like you were indifferent when I mentioned him on the phone.â
You look down at the floor, feeling a little guilty, a little shy. âI could barely admit it to myself, let alone to anyone else. And I was so, so scared, Chae. Even nowâŠâ You look longingly over at the dance floor, where Jaeyun is clearly having the time of his life, throwing his limbs around with Heeseung and Jenoâwhen he meets your eyes, he waves happily, then returns to what seems to be an attempt at the robot. You sigh. âItâs not like I change my ways overnight, can I? Being so far from him, I donât knowâŠâ
âDonât think about that right now,â Chaewon says, commanding your attention back to her. âJust enjoy it. Itâs what both of you deserve. When you run into a problem, youâll figure it out together. Heâs waited this long, I promise you itâs not a little distance thatâll drive him away now.â
You nod. âOkay. Youâre right.â
âOf course I am. Now, I have some news to share too. And itâs our secret, okay?â
Excited, you shift forward on your chair, inching closer to her. âOkay.â
She gazes downward with a smile, lets go of one of your hands to rest on her stomach. Your mouth falls open, and when she looks back up at you, her eyes shiny, you immediately feel yours start to burn. âIf you say yes, Y/N, youâll be a godmother soon.â
âOh my God, Chae,â you whisper, tears already pooling in your eyes.
She giggles. âJaeyunâs already agreed to be the godfather, so it only makes more sense now, doesnât it? And yes, before you ask, Iâm absolutely using my unborn child as emotional blackmail to get you to call and visit more often. And Iâll be coming to see you in the city and make you take me around cute baby shops and buy me all the food I want.
âOh my God, Chae. Youâre having a whole baby,â you whisper, incredulous. Your heads lean in towards each other, almost bumping as you laugh.
âI know, right? We wanted to wait until our honeymoon was over to start trying, but⊠Well, Iâll spare you the details, but weâve never gone at it so much since getting engagedââ
âAlright.â
âSo, what do you say?â she asks, a hopeful expression on her face.
You squeeze her hands. âHow could I say anything but yes? Of course Iâll be your kidâs godmother. Iâm so honored that youâre asking me, when I havenât been an ideal friend.â
She shakes her head. âDonât. We understand you, Y/N, more than I think you give us credit for. And I trust you to make up for it now, okay?â
You nod, tears freely streaming down your cheeks now. âI will. I absolutely will. I love you so much, Chae. Iâm so happy for you.â
Her laugh is the prettiest sound to your ears. âI love you too, Y/N.â
She leans back, takes a deep breath as she wipes her tears. âIs my makeup okay?â When you nod, she gets up and says, âOkay. To the dance floor!â
Now that theyâve gone through every step and are reassured that their wedding couldnât have gone more smoothly, Jaemin and Chaewon let it all out on the dance floor. What starts out as a pretty big crowd, a large portion of the guests up and dancing, fizzles out as the hour grows late. The more elderly relatives have long retired, and it isnât long before the older adults leave, too, finding their children asleep on random chairs and dragging them out of the venue. Soon, the population on the dance floor is more or less constituted of your high school friends and Chaewonâs and Jaeminâs cousins of your age. When Beomgyu starts to play slower songs around the three a.m. mark, you canât believe itâs this late already. You were having so much fun you had no idea so much time had passed.
The catering crew has cleared the tables and packed away all their silver- and dinnerware, and your friends, in their drunken state, offer to wipe the floors and take the decorations down, but Chaewon and Jaemin shoo them off, assuring them that theyâll be taking care of it with their families in the morning.
You have to admit, now that the energyâs gone down, you start to feel yourself ready for bed, your feet aching from overuse, even though you took your high heels off hours ago to dance with more ease. It doesnât help that Jaeyun stays right behind you as everyone starts heading off, his hand low and casual on your hip as you wave them all goodbye and promise to stay in touch. He only hangs back when you have to say goodbye to Chaewonâyour flight is around noon tomorrow, so you wonât have time to see her again.
Hugging her tight, you tell her again how beautiful she looked tonight and how happy you are for her. You wish her and Jaemin a happy honeymoon, and she winks back, telling you to have fun, too. âBut safe fun!â she yells as you and Jaeyun start making your way to his car. âI love you but youâre not stealing my babyâs spotlight!â
Jaeyun is still laughing as he gets in the driverâs seat, while youâre flooded with embarrassment. âSo she told you, then?â he asks.
âYeah.â
âWeâre gonna be godparents,â he says, grinning. âSome might say weâre moving a little fast, but I think itâs right.â
Youâre smiling impossibly wide. âYouâre stupid.â
âAnd youâre pretty,â he replies, brushing his knuckle along your jaw. Itâs an innocent touch, but just like that, the dull ache in your stomach reappearsâmaybe itâs his proximity all night, all tension and no release, or the fact that itâs the two of you in pure darkness on this late night road, or Chaewonâs comment ringing in your head, but you suddenly find yourself craving for a lot more than an innocent touch. As though he can read your mind, Jaeyun clears his throat. âDo you, um, do you want to go back to mine?â he asks, eyes going back-and-forth between you and the road as though not wanting to miss your reaction.
âYeah,â you whisper. The air conditioning is on full blast, yet your skin is on fire. âYeah. Iâd like that.â
âOkay.â
Youâre silent for the rest of the car ride, mind racing with possibility. Jaeyunâs hand trembles ever so slightly in yours, like he can barely restrain himself, and you agree that the twenty minutes to his apartment are the longest youâve ever had to endure. You play with his fingers, hoping the gesture will be calming to both of you, but the feeling of his skin against yours only makes your heart race faster.
His apartment is on the first floor of a small building in the center of Gimcheon. He leads you up the stairs, fingers intertwined with yours, only letting go to open his door. âLayla will be excited to meet you,â he says as he turns the keyâindeed, youâre greeted warmly by the cream-colored Border Collie. She seems much happier to meet someone new than to see her boring old owner, who notices this with a frown, huffing something about âbetrayalâ and âyour own kidsâŠâ as Layla licks your hands and presents her belly for pets.
âI should probably walk her quickly, she hasnât been out since this morning,â Jaeyun says, an endeared smile on his face as he watches the two of you get acquainted.
âShould I come with?â
Crouching beside you, he shakes his head. âI know youâre tired, angel. Iâll just be ten minutes, you can wash up in the meantime.â
You follow him into the bathroom, where he hands you a towel and tells you to help yourself to anything you need. âWait here a minute,â he says, then disappears into his bedroom, coming back with clean clothes for you to wear. Heâs sheepish as he rests them on the sink counter, a small smile playing on his lips. âHere. They might be a bit big, but more comfortable than your dress.â
âThanks, Yun.â
âNo worries.â He hesitates for a second, then presses a quick kiss to your temple. âIâll be quick.â
Even after he leaves, the smile on your lips is wide and unwavering, your heartbeat fast, your fingers twitchy and impatient. You find lotion to wipe your makeup off with, and have far too much fun analyzing all of his shower products as the hot water runs over your body. You can hardly keep your giddiness in check at the thought of washing yourself with Jaeyunâs soap, drying yourself with his towel, then wearing his clothes and finding yourself enveloped with the delicate floral scent of his laundry detergent. He gave you a navy t-shirt with the logo of his familyâs business on the front and a pair of basketball shorts that reach your knees, and that you have to tie very tightly at your hips so it stays up. You canât help but admire yourself in the mirror, for some reason feeling more like a girlfriend than ever before in your life.
When you hear the front door open, you come out to meet him in his living room. As Layla trots over to her bed, he stops for a second when he sees you, mouth slightly agape as his eyes rake your body. You feel shy under his gaze, but surprise yourself by also revelling in the attention, in the way his desire is so evident in his gaze, in the smirk that grows on his lips as he crosses the distance to you.
âNice walk?â you ask.
âYeah. You look good,â he says, hands finding your hips, shameless in the way he looks down at you now.
In the shower, you were so preoccupied with simply being here that you didnât spare a thought for what would happen nextânow, under the intensity of Jaeyunâs gaze and the effect of his proximity, you feel unprepared, completely at a loss for what to do with yourself.
Itâs lucky for you that Jaeyun, on the other hand, seems to know exactly what he wants to do with you.
âCan I kiss you?â he asks, voice low and gravelly unlike youâve ever heard it before, and it sends shivers down your spines. You donât trust your voice to work properly, so you nod your assent instead.
Seconds pass like eternity between his question and the moment his lips actually touch your lips. One of his hands leaves your hips to find your chin instead, raising it a little with his thumb so your face is perfectly angled towards his. His touch is gentle, more of a request than a demand, and you crave to melt into it, to let him lead you wherever he wants you.
His lips meet yours, delicate and cautious, like he doesnât want to scare you off. They move languidly against each other, giving you the time you need to adapt to this without being overwhelmed. You raise your arms and wrap them around his neck while his hand sneaks its way to your lower back, pushing you gently closer towards him, your chest now flush to his. Fire courses through your veins as his tongue meets yours, deepening the kiss and making your thoughts hazy, incoherent, unimportant.
You never dreamed it would be this easy. One kiss, and itâs like a faucetâs opened up inside you, all the desire and want and longing that youâve kept trapped inside pouring out of you boundlessly. You wouldnât know how to control it if you had toâand thankfully, Jaeyun doesnât seem to want you to. He meets you right where you are, holding onto you just as tightly as you are onto him, moaning shamelessly when your fingers tug sharply at his hair, his head thrown back as you pepper his throat with wet, messy kisses.Â
His mouth doesnât leave yours as he walks you to his bedroom. Only when he sits down on his bed do you get a glimpse of his expressionâthe lust-blown pupils, the reddened cheeks, the lips plump and shiny with saliva. His hands are practically on your ass as he brings you down towards him, helping you into a straddling position on his lap. He presses kisses to your cheek, your jawline, then, resting his forehead against yours, asks with a throaty voice, âYouâre okay with this?â
You smile, wrap your arms tighter around his neck. âIâm definitely okay with this.â
âGood,â he replies, then wastes no time pressing his lips back to yours.
Years of repressed feelings come out in this kissâthat much is clear in its desperation, in the way you both grab onto whatever parts of the other you can reach, like you want to tether yourselves to each other. When you break apart for air, Jaeyun whispers in your ear how long heâs wanted to do this, lips brushing against your skin as he speaks, making you shake lightly in his hold. The longer you kiss, the weaker the resistance in your thighs grows, and you soon find yourself sitting right on his lap, his bulge hard and demanding attention beneath you. His grip on your hips tightens, but itâs the only sign he gives you of being affectedâonly when you roll your hips experimentally against his does he let out a loud moan right into your mouth, which you take as a green light to keep going.Â
You push him down onto the mattress, practically laying on top of him as you grind yourself against him, a small whimper leaving your throat every time his erection rubs perfectly against your clit through your shared layers of clothing. Heâs still wearing his wedding outfit, and when his hands leave your body to unbutton his shirt, you waste no time in helping him, untucking his shirt from his trousers, unbuckling his belt. He chuckles at your eagerness, but you canât bring yourself to feel even a little embarrassedâyou donât think youâve ever desired anything this badly, and itâs messing with your head. Jaeyun looks at you like he could eat you right up, so you decide thereâs no use in hiding your appetite from him.
His hands slip underneath your t-shirt, and your skin blazes with the heat of his touch. They trail up your sides, nails briefly grazing your waist and back before they find your breasts. He gently rubs one of your nipples between his fingers, and Jaeyun curses when you release a moan in the crook of his neck, pressing your crotch against his with more urgency than before. âDoes that feel good, baby?â he asks, voice breathy as you squirm under his touch.
âYes, Yun.â
He hums in satisfaction, one hand on your ass to guide your movements against him, the other alternating between your breasts to pay them equal attention, lips never relenting in their quest to leave no inch of your neck unkissed.Â
Itâs too much and too little at once. A familiar coil tightens in your stomach, and you canât believe youâre already this close to coming undone from thisâevery man youâve slept with before has had to put in a lot more work to get you even near the edge. But with Jaeyun, all it takes is a few minutes of heavy petting and his voice in your ears, telling you how well youâre doing for him, how pretty you look using him to get yourself off.
âThatâs it, baby,â he coos as your moans get louder, your movements more erratic. âIâve got you. Let it go for me.â Itâs all you need for your orgasm to wash over you and leave you a trembling mess in his arms, his hold around your waist tight as he kisses your temple and shushes you gently.Â
When youâve calmed down somewhat, he helps you onto your back, shifting so that your head rests on his pillows. Now that youâve regained your senses, the reality of what youâve done, what youâre doing hits you. Resting on his elbow, Jaeyun gazes down at you fondly, and although you wouldâve reveled in it mere moments ago, the intensity of his attention now only brings heat to your face. You canât quite meet his eyes, a small, bashful smile playing on your lips as you play with the lapels of shirt collar. He must sense this shift in your demeanor, and asks, âDo you wanna keep going?â
Lust pangs low in your stomach. You force yourself to look into his eyes, giving him an almost imperceptible nod. His desire is so obvious on him, and truth be told, you hadnât even thought you might stop here when he still needs taking care of. The smile on his lips grows, but when you reach out to touch his erection, he tilts his head, grabbing your wrist and laying it back down next to your body. âI didnât say I was done with you, baby,â he purrs, leaning down to kiss your neck, one hand slipping under your t-shirt again.Â
âButââ
âIâve waited so long, angel. Dreamed about having you like this so many times. So be patient and give me this much, hm?â
You release a shaky breath. How can you say no when he makes it sound like letting him make you feel good is doing him a favor, and not you? âOkay.â
âThank you, angel. Help me with this?â he asks gently, lifting his t-shirt youâre wearing over your head. Youâd feel shy at lying half-naked underneath him if it wasnât for the way he admired you, like an art lover in front of their favorite painting. âSo fucking perfect,â he mutters, leaving a trail of kisses down your throat until he reaches your breasts. âCanât believe youâve been keeping this from me all this time.â
âIâm sorry, Yun.â Youâre already squirming at this touch, body screaming for more than the feather-like kisses he presses to your skin.
âNo, no, baby. Donât apologize. Iâd do it all over again, knowing Iâd get to see you like this in the end. So perfect,â he repeats, and before you can reply, he wraps his lips around your nipple, tongue darting out to lick at the sensitive bud. Your back arches off his bed, but with a firm hand to your stomach, he stops you from writhing away from his touch.Â
He seems to be content with doing this for minutes on end, lips alternating between your nipples, fingers tending to the neglected one, teeth sometimes gently nibbling at your skin, leaving behind small marks on the sides of your breasts. âThere, now you canât forget me,â he says with a self-satisfied smirk when he leans back to admire his work.
âAs if I could,â you whisper back, hands finding purchase in his hair as you bring him back towards you and kiss him.
But soon enough, another part of your body starts burning from lack of attention, but even as you buck your hips towards him to signal what you need, he doesnât noticeâor doesnât care. âYunâŠâ you eventually whine, hoping heâll understand what it is you want from this one word.
âWhatâs wrong, baby? You need something?â he asks, faking an innocent tone.
So he does knowâhe just doesnât want to give it to you so easily. Itâs too bad for you that youâre famously bad at asking for what you need.
You opt instead for grabbing his hand and leading it down to your coreâsurely, thatâs enough of a message. He cups you over your shorts, and your thighs clasp around his wrist, instinctively attempting to create more friction. His hand slips below your waistband, and he groans, forehead falling against your shoulder, when he finds your lack of underwear there. He has direct access to your folds, and he wastes no time sliding two of his fingers there, humming in appreciation. âSo wet,â he mumbles, seemingly more to himself than to you.Â
âPlease, Yun,â you plead, voice almost a winceâand it is in a way painful, having him so close to where you need.
âIâm here, angel. Iâll give you what you want.â And indeed, the next second, the pads of his fingers are on your clit, rubbing torturously slow circles onto it. On the pillow, your head falls to the side in your search for more proximity with himâyou feel his laboured breathing against your face, and you shift your body closer to him, worming one of your legs between his. As though this is getting to his head as much as yours, heâs silent for a while, his fingers gathering speed on your clit, occasionally sliding down your folds and inside of you. They go so much deeper than yours can, brushing against that spot that has your nails digging into his skin. But as he brings you closer and closer to the edge, you find yourself not wanting to fall right away, at least not like this.
âYunâŠâ you breathe out, wrapping your fingers around his wrist. He stops immediately, raising his head to look at you with unnecessary concern, making your heart soften for him.
âAre you okay? Did I hurt you?â
âNo, no, I justâŠâ
You squirm uncomfortably beneath him, and his expression shiftsâdamn him for understanding so quickly what youâre too shy to say. âYou justâŠâ he trails, smug. Resuming his kisses along your throat, he says, âTell me, baby.â
âYou know,â you huff. He laughs against your skin, and even in your annoyance, the melodic sound makes your heart skip a beat.
âHm, but Iâd rather you tell me.â
You hesitate for a few seconds. Your hand finds his bulge again, and this time, he doesnât stop you. You know he wants this as badly as you do, but if telling him is what he needs, then youâll have to comply. âI needâI wantâI want to come on your dick, Jaeyun, please,â you say, forcing out the words as quickly as you can, face burning in embarrassment.
He freezes. You hear his breathing get louder, more rugged, and itâs a few seconds before he raises himself onto his elbows, fingers at your waistband, dragging your shorts down. The smugness has all but left his features, leaving behind something like sternnessâfurrowed eyebrows, dark eyes, tight jaw. As he lifts over his head the white sleeveless tee he was wearing beneath his button-up, your hands make clumsy work of his trousers, pulling them down his thighs along with his underwear. His cock springs free, tip an angry-looking red, already leaking precum, and you wonder at the self-restraint he mustâve been exercising this entire timeâitâs clearly stronger than yours.Â
You wrap a hand around the base, transfixed by the sight, and he groans. You pump him a few times, reveling in the small moans that leave his mouth, muffled in the crook of your neck, and in the way his fingers dig into the skin of your hips. He doesnât let it go on for very long, soon leaning away from you and towards his bedside table. âLet me get a condom, baby,â he says, voice shaky.Â
âIâm on the pill. You donât need to wear one.â His head snaps back towards you, eyes wide like a kid on Christmas day.
âAre you sure?â he asks, but heâs already coming back towards you, elbows on each side of your face, peppering the side of your face with kisses.
You wrap your hand around his dick again, letting his tip graze your clit before lining it with your entrance. âYeah, I am.â
He releases a shaky breath, finding your hand and intertwining his fingers with yours before he finally pushes inside of you, slowly filling you up until he bottoms out. Slick from your previous orgasm and relaxed from his fingers, you accommodate him easily, only needing a few seconds before youâre already bucking up your hips against him, asking for more. For once, Jaeyun doesnât tease youâhe obliges instantly, pushing into you with slow, precise thrusts that have the coil tightening again in your stomach with embarrassing quickness. It doesnât help that Jaeyun groans right into your ear, whispering curses, muttering about how good you feel around him, âLike you were made for me, baby.â
His free hand slides beneath your thigh and lifts it up to rest it against his hipâthis new angle allows him to go deeper, to hit that sensitive spot with every one of his thrusts. As his movements gather speed, you feel yourself inching closer and closer to your orgasm, and when it finally hits, your nails dig into the skin of his bicep, you throw your head back, and you let the pleasure wash over you, your brain going haywire, a loud moan escaping your mouth.
Jaeyun takes the opportunity to latch his lips to your throat, biting and sucking at the skin there, surely leaving yet another mark for you to find in the morning. Youâre holding onto him like you might float away if you donât, thighs shaking as overstimulation starts to set inâand yet, when he asks with a low, gruff voice whether you can handle some more, you find yourself nodding vigorously, ready to take whatever he gives you.
âThatâs my girl.â
He slips out of you and you whine at the loss. But he quickly fills you up again, first turning you onto your side as he spoons you from behind, lifting your thigh to grant him better access and pushing into you again with no hesitation. In this position, heâs able to snake an arm around you and play with your clit, making you throw your head back against his shoulder. His pace is gentle at first, as are the kisses he presses to the side of your neck and to your shoulder as he lets you adjust to this new, deeper angle. But it doesnât take long for his rhythm to quicken as he seems to be nearing release himselfâhis thrusts get sloppier, harsher, the sounds he makes more desperate.
You didnât think itâd be possible, but between his fingers on your clit, his dick deep inside you, and his filthy words in your ears, a chasm opens within you once more and you find yourself barrelling towards it at alarming speed. With a few final hard thrusts and the feeling of Jaeyunâs release filling you to the brim, you come undone for the third time tonight, your throat tight and scratchy from moaning so much.
Jaeyun stills inside of you. Without sliding out, he wraps an arm around your middle and brings you closer to him, his hold tight and reassuring. His chest is flush against your back and you feel it rise and fall with each of his breaths; your breathing slowly evens out, eventually matching the rhythm of his. With his fingertips, he draws unintelligible patterns across the skin of your stomach and waist. Tiredness makes your limbs heavy like they could sink right into his mattress. You must be mere seconds away from sleep when you feel him slip out of you. You roll onto your back as he grabs a tissue from his bedside table, cleaning you up gently as he presses a kiss to your temple. âHow do you feel?â he asks. âDo you need anything? Some water? A shower?â
You rest an arm around his waist and wiggle closer to him. âJust you,â you say.
âI can give you that. Easy,â he says, the smile audible in his voice.
.
.
You wake up a few times during the night, unaccustomed to sharing a bed with someone elseâand not just anyone at that, but Jaeyun, whose warm body you find yourself shifting closer to whenever you regain half-consciousness and realize youâre not in his arms anymore. He barely rouses as you nuzzle your face in his neck, an arm coming up to circle your waist to accommodate your body against his. You wish nothing more than to stay like this forever, but unfortunately, your faithful alarm clock rings at nine a.m. and as you reach for your phone to turn it off, Jaeyunâs loose hold on you tightens.
âDonât go yet,â he mumbles, voice muffled against your hair, and his gravelly morning voice sends a shiver right down your spine.
You smile. âIâm not. I can stay ten minutes longer.â
He whines, pulls you in closer to him. Goosebumps appear where his fingers slightly dig into your skin. âThatâs not long enoughâŠâ
âI canât miss my flight, Yun.â
âSure you can,â he says casually, and as he starts to press kisses to your neck, you almost think he might be right. âYou can catch a later one. You can go home next week.â
You hum, lifting your head to grant him better access to your throat, shivering when his teeth graze your sensitive skin. âMy boss might have something to say about that.â
Rolling you onto your back, he drops his forehead on your shoulder with a dramatic sigh. âTen minutes, you said?â he asks, with a roll of his hips so small it could be seen as accidental. But with the way his erection presses into you, thick and firm, you have an inkling it was anything but.
âFifteen if you drive fast,â you say, already starting to get out-of-breath.
âThatâs plenty.â
Neither of you bothered to put on clothes again last night, so he easily slides two fingers between your folds, gathering your slick and trailing them upwards until they reach your clit. He seems satisfied with the wetness he finds there, quickly shifting to fill you up with his dick rather than his fingers. And indeed, fifteen minutes are plentyâin the time it takes for your alarm to ring again, heâs made you come twice, his thrusts deep and precise as though he has a knowledge of your body that dates back years and not a mere day. He releases inside of you with a groan.
It does suck, having to leave so quickly. You wish you could lay in bed with him for hours, take a shower so long it has negative environmental impacts, and have a late, hearty breakfast with him. Unfortunately, you have to speed through everythingâyou need to be at the airport at eleven at the latest, and having not foreseen you wouldnât be spending the night at your aunt, you didnât finish packing before the wedding. He seems to be as aware of this as you are, and although he keeps a smile on his lips at all times, you can see your sadness reflected in his eyes at the thought of having to say goodbye, so soon after finally opening up to each other.
But in a way, you find goodbye easier this time around. As you hug your aunt and thank her for letting you stay â at which she scoffs, saying this will always be as much your house as it is hers â youâre armed with the knowledge that youâre on good terms now, and that youâre not going back to another three years of near radio silence. Itâs not an empty promise that you make her when you tell her youâll be in touch.
Youâve never seen Jaeyun as talkative as on the drive to the airport. He blabbers away, filling every second of silence like his life depends on itâyou donât help him, quiet as can be out of fear of breaking into sobs in the middle of any given sentence. You remind yourself that this goodbye is only temporary, that youâll soon make plans for him to visit, but still, your eyes burn at the thought of going home to an empty apartment and falling asleep in a half-empty bed tonight. He must sense this because he eventually tells you, voice soft and vulnerable, âDonât cry, baby.â
You purse your lips to stop them from trembling, turning away from him so he canât see your frown. âI feel like I already miss you,â you say, so low you wonder if he can even hear you.
âIâll come see you soon. And Iâll text and call you so often every day that you wonât have time to miss me,â he replies, but you can hear it in his tone that he doesnât quite believe what heâs saying, only trying to reassure you, and himself, maybe.
âThatâs impossible,â you mutter. Youâre both silent for the rest of the drive, but his hand in yours is warm, and it does more to comfort you than any words could.Â
He parks at the airport drop-off area and gets your suitcase out of the trunk for you. He wanted to park where he could leave his car longer, and go into the airport with you, but you convinced him that the quicker your goodbye, the better off youâd be. You have the sinking feeling you might burst into tears at any moment, and you donât want his last image of you for the foreseeable future to be one with tears streaming down your cheeks, donât want him to needlessly worry or drive off with a weight on his heart.
He holds you in his arms, hands rubbing reassuring circles on your back. âIâll come up as soon as I can, okay?â he says. âIn less than a month, I promise. Any longer and I might explode.â
You laugh. âI donât want you to explode.â
âNo, thatâd be pretty unfortunate.â
With one final kiss to the pretty lips that youâll be longing for until you see Jaeyun again, you grab the handle of your suitcase and walk towards the entrance of the departures area. âText me when you land, yeah?â he asks.
You nod. âI will.â You just stand there looking at him for a whileâyouâre a bit too sad to appreciate the fact that this is your first openly emotional, tearful goodbye, but part of you basks in knowing the separation isnât hard for you only. âI love you, Yun.â
He smiles, a beautiful mix of sorrow and happiness that you want to commit to memory. âI love you more, angel.â
Every time you turn around, heâs still there leaning against his car, possibly overstaying his time at the drop-off, until youâve walked too far into the airport and canât see him anymore.
.
.
Itâs already dark outside when a text from Minjeong lights up Jaeyunâs phone. Just dropped her off, it says. I tried to stop her from drinking so much, but she said she was going through Jaeyun withdrawals, whatever that means. Anyways sheâs wasted good luck lol
He shakes his head. Heâd be annoyed if he wasnât so excited to see youâheâd told Minjeong to keep you outside for a bit longer after work, not get you drunk. But before he has time to text her back, his phone starts ringing in his hand. Smiling, he picks up, your voice immediately filling his ear.
âJaeyun,â you whine, extending the second vowel for too many secondsâMinjeong wasnât just throwing words around when she said you were wasted. You must be in the elevator by now. He has half a mind to come and get you, just in case youâre stumbling around and pressing the wrong floor numbers, but if Minjeong dropped you off at your building and not your apartment, then you must have some awareness left.
He hopes. Thereâs something important he wants to talk to you about, and heâd rather you were sober for it.
âHi, baby,â he says.
This is apparently the worst thing he could possibly say, sensing as you make a noise halfway between a grunt and a whine. âDonât call me baby when I already miss you this much. Weâve talked about this!â
You definitely havenât. âIâm very sorry,â he says, exaggerating his serious tone, but you donât catch his sarcasm.
âYes, you should be.â The telltale beep of your code being pressed into the keypad breaks the silence of your apartment, and Jaeyunâs heart races with excitement. âIâm coming home now, Minjeong took me to thisââ
Your next words get caught in your throat the moment you step inside your apartment and see him, a few meters away from you in your kitchen. You stay frozen in place, phone still to your ear as he crosses the distance between you, smiling so hard his cheeks ache.
âWelcome home, angel.â
Heâs glad to see you arenât in too much of a wretched state. Even in your wide-gazed surprise, your eyes are a bit clouded over from the alcohol, and you arenât standing quite straight on your feet, but the way Minjeong texted him, he half-expected to find you with vomit on the front of your shirt. He steadies you with a hand to your waist, grabs your wrist gently to bring your arm down now that heâs hung upâand right in front of you.
âYouâre real?â you ask, and when he nods, as though that was all the confirmation you needed, you throw your arms around his neck. âMy Yunie,â you exclaim, voice muffled against his sweatshirt, and he has to bite back his laughter. Even a year and a half into your relationship, thatâs a new one. You still get flustered when a pet name escapes your lips instead of his name. Maybe he should let you get drunk more often.
You suddenly lean back, cupping his face between your palms, eyes slightly narrowed as they drift over every inch of his face, like youâre trying to see whether anythingâs changed. He lets you, a small, endeared smile on his lips, glad for the opportunity to admire you in return.
You press your lips to his, a little more forcefully than you usually would, then rest your head against his chest once more. âWhat are you doing here?â you ask. âDid you know I was missing you extra lately?â
âOf course I did. I always know what youâre thinking.â
âOkay. What am I thinking right now?â
He hums, pretends to think for a little. âThat you love me and are so happy to see me!â
You gasp. âYes! Youâre so smart,â you exclaim, hugging him even tighter.Â
Eventually, he manages to get you out of your coat and shoes, and leads you to the kitchen, where your counter is covered in flour and uncooked, homemade dumplings. He only needs to make a few more until he can start frying them. The rice is already cooked, and a miso and vegetable stew simmers on your stove. You make yourself useful by circling your arms around Jaeyunâs waist, your head resting on his shoulders as you watch him fold dough around a beef galbi filling, your favorite.Â
âDo you wanna go wash up before we eat?â he asks softly, afraid that in your sensitive state, you might take his words the wrong way. But to his surprise, you oblige without a word, giving his cheek a kiss before heading to your bedroom.
When you havenât come back ten minutes later, he goes to check on you, and finds you laying on top of your sheets, feet not even on your mattress but still on your floor like you fell back sitting and just stayed there. Youâve managed to remove your makeup and let down your hair, but you apparently ran out of energy before you could change out of your work clothes. Drool pools at the corner of your open lips.Â
Jaeyunâs heart aches with happiness. Every time he looks at you, even like this â especially like this â all he can think is how badly he wants to spend the rest of his life with you. And with every passing day that you stay with him, that you tell him good morning and good night and I love you, he thinks he might have a shot at it.
He sighs, but thereâs nothing else heâd rather be doing than slipping your trousers and blouse off of your frame and finding a large t-shirt for you to sleep in, then guiding your body underneath your sheets. You wake up once, giggle at yourself, and immediately fall back asleep.
A while later, after heâs cleaned up the kitchen, had a little bit of dinner â on his own, which he knows youâll feel awful about tomorrow â and washed up for bed, he gently closes the door of the bedroom behind him, where youâre still in deep sleep.
So heâll have to wait until the morning to share his news. Itâs alrightâhe has the whole weekend to tell you heâs found the perfect house, not too far from Gimcheon or from Daegu, where your boss has already said you could be transferred. He visited it last week, and in every room, he could picture your future together so perfectly. The kitchen in which heâll make you a late breakfast on lazy Sunday mornings, the room with a beautiful view over a garden that you could turn into an office for your work-from-home days, the bedroom that he could all too well imagine a crib in. Layla could run around in the garden. You could visit your family and friends whenever you wanted. You could be in Seoul in less than two hours with the train if you ever missed it.
Youâve been talking about moving somewhere together for a while now, but heâs still nervous to bring it up. Itâs a huge step, and he can only hope you are as ready as he is to take itâand if you arenât yet, heâll gladly wait for you to be. But as he slips into bed with you, your warm body shifting into his embrace even in sleep, he doubts heâll have to wait long at all. The days of holding back are long goneâever since itâs fully gotten through to you that he wonât ever leave your side if he can help it, youâve opened up to him like never before, let him take care of you like heâs always dreamed of.
He looks down at you and your peaceful sleeping face, his initial dangling on a thin silver chain that youâve worn since you found it again while organizing your jewelry box a few weeks ago. This is enough for now. But one day, if youâll have him, heâll make you his with another piece of jewelry, and falling asleep with you in his arms wonât be a once-in-a-while occurrence anymore.
Itâs more than enough, he thinks as he presses a kiss to your forehead, and lets the soft sound of your breathing lull him into sleep. Itâs everything.
.
.
âMy wife.â
Jaeyunâs voice is a low, possessive grunt in your ear. He says those two words like they hold the most precious meaning in the world, and it makes fire rise deep inside you.
You thought the reason Jaeyun had been so antsy during your journey to Hawaii was because heâd never travelled this far. Youâd chalked up his need to have his hand in yours or resting on your thigh for the entirety of the flight to it being his first time on a long-distance plane. You easily dismissed his clinginess on the drive from the airport to your hotel as his being tired, which always made him a little needier.
But when he pressed his body to yours the moment the door of your hotel room shut behind you, you finally understood what had actually been on his mind this entire timeâthe feeling of his erection, hard and insistent on your lower stomach, left no room for interpretation.
To be fair, since getting married three days ago, in the familiarity of your backyard and surrounded by your loved ones, youâd barely gotten any alone time. Relatives of his that lived far away stayed at your house until yesterday night, and at bedtime every night, either one or both of you were too tired to initiate anything. You havenât had sex since becoming Jaeyunâs wife, and clearly, this has been weighing on your husband.
He kisses you like he has been starving for months, desperate, ravenous, crazed. His arms around you hold you in a tight embrace, your bags haphazardly discarded at your feet. Eventually, he reaches for the back of your thighs and, legs hooked around his waist, carries you to the bed youâll call yours for the next week. You hadnât expected to break it in so quickly, but you wouldnât have it any other way, not when Jaeyunâs tongue laps at your mouth like this, not when his teeth graze your bottom lip so deliciously.
âNeed to touch you so bad, my love. Can I?â he asks, voice breathy.
âYes, Yun, please.âÂ
He slips a hand below your waistband and hums in satisfaction at the wetness he finds there. âAlways so wet for me, arenât you, baby? Always ready for me to fuck you.â
The feeling of his expert fingers on your clit render you unable to reply to himâitâs not like heâs waiting for an answer, anyway. The way you throw your head back and moan his name is all the confirmation he could need.Â
Although youâd be content to go on like this, it seems as though this isnât enough for him. He quickly withdraws his fingers, swallowing your whine of protest with a kiss. Itâs unusual, the speed with which he makes his way down your body until his face is level with your core. He normally likes to take his sweet time with you, trailing kisses all over your skin before giving in to your pleas for more. You take a little pride in knowing that you donât have to begâfor once, heâs the desperate one, heâs the one who canât wait a second longer.
Itâs obscene, and obscenely hot, the way he presses his nose against the crotch of your sweatpants and inhales deeply, a guttural groan escaping his throat. He presses kisses to your inner thighs and core over your clothes before he actually slides them down your thighs, letting them pool at your knees like he doesnât have time to take them off completely. He doesnât bother with your t-shirt, either, simply snaking his hands underneath it until they reach your breasts.
âFuck, Iâve missed this pussy so much,â he mutters, admiring it like it belongs in a museum.Â
You smile. âItâs been, like, four days.â
He shakes his head. âNever going without it for that long again.â
Jaeyun dives into your core, tongue licking a long stripe up your folds before it finds your clit and settles there, alternating between licking and sucking at the sensitive bud, two of his slender fingers quickly sliding inside of you. Your hands find purchase in his hair, tugging at it when a motion of his tongue feels particularly good, hips bucking against his mouth whenever his fingers hit that particularly deep spot inside you. He moans ceaselessly into your core, the vibrations making your thighs shake around his head, as though he needed this as much as you didâif not more. You swear you hear him mutter âmy wifeâ at some point. Embarrassingly quickly, you start to feel that familiar coil of pleasure form low in your stomach, a warm, dizzying buzz spreading throughout your entire body all the way to your fingertips.
Your relief at not having to beg turns out to be short-lived. Jaeyun makes you come on his tongue a first, then a second time, as he is often wont to do. Youâre impossibly sensitive, body heavy and boneless by the third time, but he isnât satisfied. His grip on your hips is firm, and you donât have the energy to fight itânor the willingness, really. Tears stream down your face by the time your fourth orgasm hits you, at which point you canât even tell pleasure from pain anymore. You really do need a break, though, and signal this to your husband â your husband â by lifting his head from your core.
He gives you a few minutes of physical respite, but the words that he whispers against your skin as he presses feverish kisses to your throat and jaw keep you in that hazy, nebulous headspace, and in those few minutes only, you already find yourself reaching for him, cupping his erection over his sweatpants.
You wince when he enters you, overstimulation setting in solely from having him inside you, but you shake your head when he asks if you need a longer break. âWant you, Yun,â you breathe out, holding onto his biceps, nails already digging into his skin.
As he pistons his hips into yours relentlessly, you almost canât believe this is the same man who was standing before you at the altar mere days ago, the sweetest smile on his lips and tears in his pretty eyes. You guess heâs holding true to one of his vowsâhe said heâd never make you doubt how much he loves you, and right now, you canât deny that heâs fucking you like youâre the only woman for him.
You think he must be close when his thrusts speed up and his grunts get louder. And recently, thereâs been a new telltale sign that he was inching closer to his orgasm.
âGonna fill you up, angel. Gonna stuff you full of my cum and make you the prettiest mommy ever. All round and beautiful, and carrying my baby. Show the whole world who you belong to.â
He mutters these words right into your ear just as his breathing gets heavier, more ragged, and seconds later, you feel him spurting ropes of his sperm inside you. When he first started talking to you like this, you assumed it was just long-term relationship dirty talk. But a couple of weeks ago, when you told him you were almost at the end of your last tablet of birth control, he asked how you felt about not renewing your prescriptionâso not just dirty talk, you realized.
He pulls out of you but stays on top of you, catching his breath as he rests his head on your chest and you play with his hair. Eventually, he grabs your left hand, lifts it to his lips, and presses them to your ring finger, right over the silver band. âThank you for marrying me, angel,â he whispers. âYouâve made me the happiest man on Earth.â
You kiss the top of his head, basking in the pleasant warmth of his words, of his scent, of his reassuring weight as he lays on top of you. âIâm the lucky one.â
âWill you still feel lucky when I tell you weâre not leaving this room all day?â
When you lift your head to look at him, heâs wearing a devilish grin. âWhy not?â you ask.
âBecause,â he says, pressing his lips to yours, âIâm fucking the jetlag out of you.â Your body responds to him, heat already starting to swirl in your stomach as though you havenât already taken more than you could handleâyour desire for him is a bottomless well. âAnd, so that in fifteen years, we get to embarrass our kid by telling them they were conceived in Hawaii.â
Needless to say, over the next week, you spend a lot more time in your hotel room than youâd planned, often only going out around noon or coming back halfway through dinnerâwhenever Jaeyun sees that ring around your finger, he seems to need some alone time with you.
He doesn't think he'll ever stop needing alone time with you.
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of all the people in the world - sjy (m)
pairing. sim jaeyun x reader
synopsis. You know you should be ecstatic about the invitation to Chaewonâs and Jaeminâs wedding in your mailbox, but you canât help the nerves gnawing away at your stomach. There are too many things youâve left unresolved after moving to Seoulâyour aunt, your friends, and most of all Sim Jaeyun, the boy youâve never let yourself love.
genre. childhood/high school friends that grow apart to lovers, angsty fluff, small town au, mutual pining bc they're idiots, this is kind of like hometown but different i promise, SMUT MDNI !!!!
warnings. characters are aged up (late 20s), reader is a little clueless but she's doing her best okay, family issues and family member death, jake is exclusively referred to as jaeyun deal with it
word count. 35.3k
author's note. listen to the playlist here + as always a big thank you to @zreamy for beta reading this and freaking out over jaeyun!!! happy very very late birthday can't wait to name my firstborn child after you... Zreamy Lee what a beautiful name... im sure anton will be stoked when i let him know!
Most of the time When he looks at me I change my mind And I donât think he even cares a bit How much I have to give Just as long as Iâm awake To love him every day [...] Of all the people in the world [He] says my name the best Most of the Time, Jackie Evans
From his seat on the couch, Jaeyun stares at the golden inflated balloons spelling out âCongratulations, Y/N!â on the wall of your auntâs living room. The more he stares, the more the capital letters seem to be mocking him.Â
He allows himself one last moment of selfishness, during which he thinks the last thing he wants to do, today or ever, is to congratulate you on getting your one-way ticket out of this town. He downs his fruit punch and winces at the overly sweet, artificial taste, then marches towards the crowd around you, trying on different smiles that might seem convincing. None of them fit.
August is nearing its end already. Summer has always felt lazy, molasses-slow, pleasantly neverending to Jaeyunâthis year, it blinked by him. He closed his eyes as the schoolbell rang for their last ever period; he opens them again and he is here. Wasnât prom just yesterday? Graduation? Did he realize that the last bonfire party was just that, the last?Â
Your birthday isnât for another week, but youâre leaving tomorrow. Everyone huddles around you, eagerly awaiting your reaction as you open gifts. If it wasnât for the presents and the chocolate fudge cake waiting in the fridge, this wouldnât be a birthday party so much as a going-away party. The dreadful words on your wall make that clear: everyone here knows youâre much happier about leaving than about turning eighteen. You said so yourself a few days earlier, and Jaeyun tried his hardest not to burst into tears.
âI can celebrate my birthday every year. Iâll only get accepted into the program of my dreams once.âÂ
You were sitting, just the two of you, atop one of the hills that overlooked your town. Jaeyun knew that when you looked out, you already saw your past, while he could only see his whole life, past, present and future indistinguishable from each other, spreading out for miles and miles and miles.Â
Up until a few months ago, when Jaeyun looked at you, he could only see his whole life. But ever since you received your acceptance letter, he hasnât been so sure. He watched as you celebrated leaving him behind, stayed silent as you raved about your plans for the future. Plans he wasnât a part of. These past months have been the only time seeing you smile made him sad.
He stays at the back of the small crowd, close enough to make out your presents as you unwrap them but not quite joining in. Hands in his back pockets, he wears his best neutral expressionäžif he canât fake a smile, he can at least try and not look so depressed. As your friend, he owes you that much. He might hate every moment of this but heâd feel even worse, knowing he was raining on your parade.
You seem to like your gifts. After spending your teenage years together, your friends know what you like. Scented candles, cute notebooks that youâll probably keep preciously rather than actually use, a personalized calendar for the upcoming school year with a different picture of you and your loved ones every month. Jaeyun shows up a few times in group pictures; itâs just the two of you in April, which is too far away for his liking. Far away enough for you to have forgotten all about him.
As you flip through the calendar, despite your friendsâ protest for the pictures to be a surprise each month, itâs on April that you linger the most. Thereâs a small smile on your face, a sad smile. Your fingers play with the pendant on your necklace, Jaeyunâs gift that he gave you before everyone else even arrived. It was too intimate a gift for him to hand it to you in front of all your friends. He almost died of embarrassment when your eyebrows rose at the sight of the delicate, silver chain, of the letter âJâ hanging off it, and it was just the two of you; if anyone else had been in the room, his shyness wouldâve gotten the best of him, and the jewelry box wouldâve stayed safely tucked in his coat pocket.
You lift your gaze towards him. He didnât even know youâd noticed him joining everyone, and yet your eyes found him immediately. He has no idea what on Earth is going through your head. Are you finally realizing that the days of seeing each other every single day are over? Are you finally figuring him out, how it isnât only friendship that has kept him by your side all these years, but the feeling deep in his gut that he gets whenever he thinks of you?
Do you have that feeling, too?
Your eyes shine. For a second, Jaeyun thinks you might start to cry. Then someone, Miji or Yurim, who knows, says that sheâs on the next page. Your gaze falls back to the calendar in your hands. Your fingers let go of your necklace, and you flip Jaeyunâs page.
.
.
A tight ball of dread has been sitting in your stomach ever since you got that letter in the mail. Youâve tried to rationalize it many ways: it feels weird to receive a wedding invitation, the first from someone out of your childhood group of friends. Even more so when that someone is the girl you called your best friend for all of your teenage years, but you arenât sure you deserve that title anymore. Even more so when youâre 28 and couldnât be further from drafting a wedding invitation yourself.
You know what it really is: itâs the address for the reception, the name of a place in which you havenât set foot in years blinking innocently up at you. Itâs the second piece of paper inside the envelope, a handwritten note asking you to come a few days earlier so that all of you âcan gather just like the good old times.â
Iâm getting married, Y/N. Iâm turning into a proper adult. I just want one last time of feeling like a sixteen year old, and I canât have that without you here. Say youâll be there, pretty please? XX
You remember sighing after reading that note, your brain already coming up with excuses to justify your future absence, fully aware that you wouldnât miss this wedding for the world.Â
Damn Chaewon, you thought then, and still regularly think now. Damn her and her emotional manipulation, as youâve decided to view it, forcing you to make that dreaded trip homeânot that you really consider that place home anymore.
It was a wonder that you and Chaewon were such good friends back then, good enough to still keep in touch throughout your adult lives. Just like every baby in the family, she was born in the upstairs bedroom of their home, the mayorâs daughter, known and loved by everyone in town, and had always adored her small-town life. You showed up out of nowhere at age fourteen, initially making no effort to befriend anyone, annoyed by the whispers that followed you. You wanted to leave as soon as you arrived, and you eventually did; although along the way, Chaewonâs kind-heartedness melted even your ice walls, and you gradually opened the gates to let the other kids in.
For almost a decade, youâve been working to close those gates again. You were almost there; they were barely agape, there was just that tiny thread that kept an infinitesimal part of you tethered to that place, and you were sure it was close to snapping. Chaewon and her damn wedding invitation pushed the gates back open, and it took you all your strength to not look back and walk through again.
You left something there, and you arenât sure youâre ready to retrieve it.Â
The ball of dread, as though tethered to a chain around your ankle, wonât stop following you. Up until now, you hadnât noticed how much everything around you seemed to revolve around romance. The TV you watched. The content on your phone. Couples in the street. Even your work was full of it. Youâre the editor for the Culture and Media segment of Limelight Monthly, the magazine you work at, not Relationships or even Lifestyle, and yet, in the weeks after receiving the invitation, it felt like all your staff could write about were the latest romance novels everyone raved about online, the best reality TV shows about exes getting back together or forever-singles searching for their first love, and which destinations were the most romantic for couples to travel to this summer.Â
You do a good job hiding it at first. Although youâre not as focused as you usually are reading your staffâs articles to greenlight them for publication, two years of doing this job means no typos or clunky sentences pass you by. You make sure to greet everyone with your usual cheer, and you donât miss any Thursday evening afterwork drinks, a tradition of your teamâs. Most of the time, youâre able to relegate Chaewonâs wedding and everything it entails to the back of your mind, but itâll come back up at random moments. Youâll be filling the kettle for tea in the communal kitchen when a certain face will fill the forefront of your thoughts; your heart will start beating uncontrollably, and before you know it, water will be overflowing from the kettle and onto your hands. Youâll stare at the awfully familiar name of a book character in one of your coworkersâ reviews and only snap out of it once someoneâs called your name three times in a row, like being summoned out of a trance.Â
These moments are few and far between, but they add up. When your coworkers ask you whether everythingâs okay, at first, itâs lighthearted, like theyâre just curious about what got you so lost in your thoughts. Slowly, eyebrows start to furrow, concern starts creeping in their eyes and voice. Youâre one zone-out away from an intervention. A few days ago, you overheard Juhee and Haewon, your teamâs two most recent recruits, whispering in the break room about their concern for your well-being: âI think she goes home and just, I donât know, has takeaway and white wine in front of her TV.â
Theyâre wrong about the takeaway. Youâre actually a pretty decent cook. The rest of their sentiment, however⊠Well.
It takes Minjeong, your favorite coworker-turned-friend, a couple of weeks before she decides to take matters into her own hands. One Tuesday after work, she waits for you outside the buildingâs main entrance, and as soon as you step outside, grabs your wrist and drags you to the subway station thatâll lead both of you to her apartment. âIâm making you chicken alfredo and youâre telling me what the hell is wrong with you,â she says before you can protest.
You wrench your wrist out of her grasp, shrug on the bag strap that had fallen off your shoulder with a discontented huff, and follow her anyway. âFine, but Iâm only coming for the chicken alfredo.â
âIâll tie you down to the chair until you speak.â
âKinky.â
She halts dead in her tracks in the middle of the busy street, ignoring the nasty stares from the other homebound office workers heading for the station. She turns to face you, wearing a severe expression. âIâve known you for five years, and youâve never cried in front of me. Not even when we watched Titanic.â
Nonplussed, you reply, âI already knew how it ended.â
âThatâs not the point. Itâs usually impossible to get a read on you, so when not one or two, but three people come up to me and ask whether youâre alright, that means somethingâs seriously wrong. Iâd be a terrible friend if I didnât try to find out what that was.â
You hesitate. Youâre embarrassed that youâve been so obvious, and that youâre even this upset in the first place. Who on Earth has such a hard time being happy about her childhood best friendâs upcoming wedding? Your first reaction shouldâve been to call Chaewon and rave with her and ask for all the details. You should be sending her pictures of potential dresses and asking her which one fits her color palette the best. You shouldnât be needing the aforementioned intervention.
It isnât like you have to follow Minjeong and air your dirty laundry out to her. If it came to it, your couple inches over her might help you win a physical fight. But something about her sincere concern makes you foldâhow long has it been since you let someone worry about you like this? Long enough that you forgot how nice it feels, apparently.
She must sense a shift in your demeanor, because she relaxes. âLetâs go,â she says, and this time, she doesnât need to drag you with her.
From the moment you met Minjeong, you knew she came from money. It wasnât that she flaunted it or appeared out-of-touch with reality; she just had a way of moving through the world with the air of confidence of someone who knew they belonged, who was used to getting what they wanted. It also helped that she often came to work with a new designer bag and always had flawless hair and nails.
It intimidated you at first, the way she seemed to have worked in this office her whole life, whereas it took you weeks before you stopped being so eager to please and be overly polite with everyone. But it quickly became clear that although you found her infinitely cool, she wasnât cold. You didnât work for the same segment, but you spent your lunch breaks together, getting scolded by your respective bosses more than once for coming back half-an-hour late; you would often be so busy talking, you wouldnât keep track of the time.
But it wasnât until you stepped inside her apartment for the first time that you realized just how wealthy she, or her family, was. She lived in one of the fanciest neighborhoods of town, in an apartment that you could hardly afford now as an editor, let alone when you were just starting out at the magazineâyet sheâd been living there since graduating from university. Itâs on the top floor of a brand new apartment complex and composed of three bedrooms and two bathrooms, a ridiculously large open plan kitchen and living room, and a balcony with possibly the best view over the city youâve ever seen. Her furniture looked and felt expensive, and it made you dizzy trying to figure out how much the artwork that hung on her walls and decorated her shelves mustâve cost. To this day, you havenât been brave enough to ask.
When you step inside her apartment today, she wastes no time before ordering you to sit at the kitchen island. You watch as she grabs a bottle of wine from the fridge, hesitates, then puts it back. Instead, she grabs a bottle of gin and an unopened one of tonic from a cupboard, two glasses and some ice from the freezer. You smile and sit silently as she expertly pours two drinks. âHere,â she says, sliding a glass towards yours. âI thought you might want something stronger.â
âShould I be worried you just have this on hand?â you tease.
She rolls her eyes. âItâs for emergencies like these, obviously.â You clink your glasses and take a wonderful sip. Then, she looks you straight in the eyes and says, âSo, tell me whatâs been on your mind.â
So you do.
You tell her about the wedding invitation and what it entails: travelling back to the town you used to live in, having to face everyone you left behind there. You keep things vague. You donât name names, or dump your entire backstory on her; you simply tell her you didnât have the best relationship with your aunt when you left, and phone calls between the two of you have been few and far between in the time youâve moved away. And that this goes for a few other people from home, namely one other person.
Of course, this isnât enough for Minjeong. She prods, and prods, and prods, until you finally give in. With a sigh and a heavy gulp of your wine, you ask, âWhere do you even want me to start?â
She smiles. âFrom the beginning.â
You stare each other off for a few beats. Even as your instincts tell you to keep your mouth shut, a small voice at the back of your mind says, For once, why not?
âI donât⊠talk about this,â you say, voice shaky.
Worry knots Minjeongâs eyebrows together. âIs it that bad?â
âItâs not that itâs bad,â you reply quickly to reassure her. âI just donât like even thinking about it. So talking about it⊠Well, that forces me to think about it, doesnât it?â
âListen,â Minjeong says, walking over to your side of the island, resting her hand over yours. âIf you really donât want to talk about it, I wonât force you. But from what I can tell, itâd do you some good.â She takes a deep breath, then speaks all in one go. âAlso Iâm dying to know. Iâm not supposed to tell you this but everyone at the office has a theory about where you come from because you never talk about it.â
When you gasp, she shakes her head and squeezes your hand. âI promise everything said here will stay here. Iâd derive much more satisfaction from being the only one knowing about your past than blabbing about it to everyone anyway.â
For some reason, this works on you. Maybe Minjeong feels trustworthy enough. Or maybe you know sheâs right, you know itâll do you good to speak about it, to release some of the burden.
âOkay.â
You really do start from the beginning, and work your way up from there. Why you had to move to Gimcheon without your parents. Why it was difficult living with your aunt, and why you could hardly make friends at first. Why it was your sole goal in life to move back to Seoul at eighteen, and why with every passing year, the thought of leaving became harder and harder. Why you did it anyway.Â
What it cost you.
It feels strange to speak so much at once, and about yourself. Minjeong is plating dinner as youâre wrapping your story up. She has so many questions, it takes you almost an hour to finish your food. But you find yourself readily answering every one of them; youâve gone this far already, so you might as well give her the fullest picture you can.
Oddly enough, itâs perhaps her easiest question that has you hesitating the most. Itâs the end of the night, and youâre surprised your eyes have stayed dry throughout it; but when she asks you this, your nose starts to prickle.
âWhatâs this guyâs name, anyway? Weâve talked so much about him, and youâve only referred to him as your friend.â
You canât help but smile even as the word tugs sharply on your heartstrings.Â
âJaeyun.â
.
.
As the date of the wedding approaches, the tight knot of nerves in your stomach grows bigger. The evening before your flight, it takes you hours to fall asleep, your packed suitcase next to your bed startling you every time you lay eyes on it. You sleep fitfully for three hours, then a never-ending loop of worst-case scenarios plays in your head as you go through the motions of getting yourself ready and to the airport. An older woman sits next to you on the plane; anxiety must be emanating from you like a bad odor for her to rest a kind hand on your shoulder and tell you that domestic flights like these are very safe, that sheâs flown many times and that nothing badâs ever happened. You donât have it in you to tell her, a total albeit nice stranger, that itâs not the journey thatâs worrying you so much, but the destination.
Stepping inside the airport at Daegu feels surreal. The few times youâve traveled between Seoul and Gimcheon, you droveâbut Chaewon forced you to fly down, saying you couldnât just get in your car and leave if you suddenly felt like it. You didnât tell her you could almost just as easily get a same-day flight, if it really came down to it.
You hope it wonât.
The airport is so relatively unbusy, so it doesnât take you too long before you arrive at the parking lot, eyes searching for your aunt and her green little car that sheâs always driven and that has somehow yet to break down.Â
But itâs another familiar face that your eyes land on.Â
The sight feels like a punch to the gut. For a few seconds, you swear you stop breathing, the sound of your heartbeat so loud in your ears that it cuts off all other noise around you, of planes taking off, people reuniting, car doors slamming shut.
You werenât supposed to see him so soon. You were supposed to meet your aunt, go through a slightly awkward car ride, maybe have your first adult conversation with her now that you werenât, or at least less of, an angsty teen. You were then supposed to get ready, both mentally and physically, for seeing all of your friends at once again, for seeing him. Who was standing in front of his car, staring at you with a small smile that kept breaking your heart over and over again, clearly here to pick you up.
He lets you stare back. Lets you stand there, mouth agape in shock, fingers wrapped so tight around the handle of your suitcase that your nails dig into the skin of your palm. You werenât supposed to see him so soon. You didnât get enough time to prepare, to adjust to being here, and now youâre standing there dumbly like youâve just seen a ghost.
In a way, you have.
You regain part of your senses. When you try to say his name, your voice is hoarse, and it comes out as a whisper, barely audible even to you. So you clear your throat, try a second time.
âJaeyun.â
The name feels clumsy on your tongue, like a foreign language you once knew but lost due to lack of practice. And yet, when he smiles and says your name back to you, it sounds so right, like no one else is as deserving of saying it as he is.
âHi, Y/N.â
Your feet move of their own accord as they step towards him; he mirrors you, and in mere seconds youâre face-to-face with him, and when he reaches out you think he might hug you but all he does is take your suitcase from you and roll it to the trunk of his car. A sigh escapes your lips, but youâre unsure whether it's one of disappointment or of relief.
âThere was an emergency at the hospital, so Auntie asked me to pick you up. I hope itâs okay with you,â he explains. You watch, transfixed, as he closes the trunk, then walks over to the passenger side, opening the door and motioning for you to go in.
You nod. âYeah, itâs okay. Thank you.â
Instead of walking right away to his side of the car, he stays there, one hand on top of the door as you take a seat and fasten your seatbelt. âItâs no worries,â he says finally before gently shutting your door.
There are so many things to think about. Usually, youâd get hung up over the fact that even on the day of your coming back home for the first time in years, your aunt still prioritizes her job over you, or over the fact that Jaeyun still calls her Auntie, despite the resolve youâve had since you were fourteen of calling her by her first name, and her first name only.
Now, as the boy â the man â beside you starts the car, hands steady compared to your trembling ones, a peaceful expression on his face, all you can think about is the improbability of it all, of being back here, of being next to Jaeyun of all people and not knowing what to say to him. If someone had told you ten years ago, that one day a reunion with Jaeyun would mean silence and cramp-inducing nerves, you would have either laughed them off, or been scared into never leaving at all.Â
Your mind conjures an infinite list of conversation starters, but none of them seem good enough. Theyâre all too relaxed, too intense, too inappropriate for a situation like this. Like a fish out of water, you keep opening your mouth to say something, only to close it when you decide not to.Â
Jaeyun being this quiet only makes things worse. If thereâs one thing about him, itâs that heâs always talking like he canât get the words out fast enoughâbut maybe itâs been too long for you to speak with any authority about what Sim Jaeyun is like. You know youâve changed a lot in ten yearsâhow can you expect him to be the same boy you left? You canât even tell whether heâs just calmer now or if heâs decided to torture you by silence.Â
As he keeps his eyes on the road ahead of him, you risk furtive glances, trying to assess how much about him mightâve changed. Thereâs still something of the boy who used to split clementines with you in the winter, who would whisper the answers to you when you got called on in class and blanked. Heâs grown into his features, heâs learned how to style his hair, but his kind smile and eyes havenât changed in the slightest. You still find yourself inexplicably drawn to everything about him, even the small cut on his jawline, probably from shavingâyour fingers crave to feel it, this sign of a private life that you havenât been privy to for years. That you havenât been a part of.
Minutes pass by like eternity. Heâs only pulling out of the parking lot and joining the freeway and youâre already wondering how youâll survive the twenty-minute car ride to your auntâs. Thankfully, Jaeyun eventually puts an end to your agony.Â
âThereâs so much I want to tell you that I donât know where to start.â His voice is low, infused with a kind of timidity youâve rarely heard from him. It seems to reflect your feelings exactly, and youâre so relieved you could cry.Â
A small chuckle escapes your throat. âMe too,â you say, glancing at him briefly, avoiding his gaze by the fraction of a second. Itâs hard enough being in an enclosed space with him; eye contact isnât an option right now. Every time his eyes flick over to you, the side of your face heats up so much you think it might melt right off.
âHowâhow are you?â he asks.
Youâre not sure whether he means right now, or in generalâbut you donât really feel like examining your feelings about being back here more than you already have, and especially not in front of Jaeyun, so you go for the second meaning.
âGood,â you say. âEverythingâs going well at work. And Iâve got a few really great friends. What about you?â
A few beats pass without his answerâin the corner of your eye, you see his head swivel back-and-forth between the road and your face. âWhat, thatâs it?â he finally says with a small, disbelieving chuckle. âThe last time I saw you was three years ago. Surely you have more to say than that.â He doesnât sound angry, just genuinely eager to get more information out of you. But his words make you angry at yourself, because they remind you that itâs your fault you know so little about each otherâs lives now. Itâs not for his lack of trying, and you both know thatâsince you left ten years ago, his unwavering kindness and lack of resentment towards you has surprised you every time youâve seen him again.Â
âI donât know, nothingâs really happened. I was promoted pretty recentlyââ
âOkay, thatâs definitely not nothing. Congratulations, Y/N. You deserve it.â
Theyâre words youâve heard a hundred times before, but coming from him, they sound so heartfelt, like he truly is proud and happy for you, that you canât help but soften at them. Smiling, you say, âYouâve never seen me at work. Maybe I slack off all day and hand in everything late.â
âIâve seen you in high school, and thatâs enough to know youâd rather pull out your hair strand by strand than hand in anything a minute late.â
You laugh, and when he turns his head to look at you, this time, you mirror him. He can only keep his eyes off the road for so long, but a second is all you need. Your gazes meet, and heâs wearing one of your favorite smiles of his, the one that makes you feel like heâs really glad to see you again, and a weight is suddenly taken off your shoulders.
Maybe this wonât be so bad after all.
Thankfully, the remainder of the car ride is much less awkward than its first few minutes.You find Jaeyun to be as talkative as ever, not shy in the slightest to tell you about everything going on in his life, from the arguments he gets into with his colleagues â which happen to mostly be members of his family â to the hikes heâs been going on more frequently now that heâs adopted a dog, a Border Collie he says you have to meet.Â
Your nerves are appeased. The last time you saw Jaeyun three years ago, it was for his grandmotherâs funeral. She was the main reason heâd stayed hereâback in high school, heâd had vague plans of moving to Seoul after graduating from university in Daegu. But when she got sick, with his brother abroad and his parents working hard to afford the hospital bills, he decided there should be someone to keep her company and take care of her, and that someone would be him. You could count on one hand the number of times youâd been back, and when she passed was one of them. He tried to keep a brave front, smiling as he greeted and thanked everyone for coming, but you could see right through the facade, although itâd been a long time since you could call yourself a close friend of his.
You only stayed three days. The night before you went back to Seoul, you went over to his apartment to make him dinner. In front of you, he let it all outâheâd always cried easily, but never like this. You spent so much time comforting him and offering him your shoulder that in the end, you could only make him a bowl of pasta with tomato sauce that he barely ate half of. You knew only too well what sort of pain he was going through. While your brain has wiped most of your memories of the events soon following your parentsâ deaths, you remember the hurt that lasted months, years, that still comes back now from time to time, when you least expect it. It was partly thanks to Jaeyunâs friendship that your grief was easier to overcomeâas you got to know him and your new classmates, he took your mind off of things little by little, until one afternoon, you came home from school and realized you hadnât felt suddenly sad or irrationally angry the entire day.
The moment you left him that night, his cheeks tear-stained and his eyebrows furrowed even in sleep, you made a promise to yourself that youâd be there for him at twenty-five as he was for you at fourteen, despite the distance that separated you. You texted him everyday, called three times in a row if he didnât answer, made sure your mutual friends checked up on him often.Â
But Jaeyun was, is strong and he had amazing people surrounding him, people heâs known his entire life and that have his back. He was back on his feet soon, sooner than you expected, for how close he was to his grandmother. Because of, or thanks to that, when you felt like he didnât need you to look after him anymore, you only felt a little guilty for pulling away. More accurately, the guilt ate relentlessly at you, but you had excuses to make yourself feel better. His dad made all his favorite dishes. Jaemin took him out fishing. A neighbor of his had a dog who gave birth, and he adopted one of the pups. With or without you, he was going to be fine.
You didnât mind looking after him. But as soon as you felt like you were relying on him, you panicked. And you were starting to look forward to your weekly calls far too much for your liking. So you reached out less often. It was a busy time at work â when wasnât it, after all? â and you buried yourself in it so that when you told him you were too busy to call or to head back for the weekend, you werenât lying.
Things went back to the way they were for the seven previous years. You were as relieved as you were heartbroken.
You look at him now, listening to his lively rants with a smile on your face, thinking how glad you are it all turned out okay. The sadness of being apart from him, the longing of missing him, youâd do it all again if it meant heâd be laughing like this in the end.
Parked in front of your auntâs house, Jaeyun turns off the ignition and turns to you. âDo you want me to come in with you?â he asks.
How easily you fall back into your old ways. Twenty minutes with him and you feel like a teenager again, annoyed with him for being so nice, so unrelentingly nice, annoyed at your stupid heart for beating up a storm in your chest every time he so much as smiles at you. You want desperately to say yes. To have someone to lean on as you walk into the house that contains so many bad memoriesâfights with your aunt followed by silence, the feeling of loneliness that pervaded your teenage years and that you havenât quite managed to shake off. Itâd be so nice to have Jaeyun there with youâand judging from the concern on his face, he seems to know how you feel.
But you canât let him, because you canât let yourself need him. Not again. Not when you already know how it ends.
You smile and shake your head, ignoring the disappointment that flashes across his features. âItâs okay. I donât wanna take up more of your time.â He looks like heâs going to say something, so you quickly add, already opening the passenger door, âIâll see you later for the reunion, yeah? Thank you for the ride, Yun.â
With a sigh, he lets go of whatever it was he wanted to say. âOf course. Anytime.â
He gets out of the car even though you tell him not to, and helps you with your suitcase, which really isnât that heavy. You can tell that your declining his offer has dampened his enthusiasm somewhat, and yet, he waits until youâre at the front door, one hand on the handle, the other waving him goodbye, to drive away. As though he wanted to keep an eye on you for as long as he couldâand so do you. You watch his car get smaller until it disappears around a corner. Then, inhaling and exhaling deeply, you turn the key you havenât used in years inside the keyhole and push the door open.
The first thing you notice is the unchanging smell of the house. Like the cleaning product your aunt uses, and a slight stale odor of food, because she always forgets to crack open a window or turn on the oven fan when she cooks. Plus a scent specific to the house that reminds you of your aunt, of the clothes she wears, of the blanket she covers herself with while she watches reality TV after particularly long shifts.
Gently closing the door behind you, you stand in the entrance for a while, letting yourself take the time you need to get used to this place again. Youâre glad your aunt isnât home to usher you in and pretend sheâs happier to see you than she is, or that you didnât let Jaeyun accompany you. You donât want anyone, least of all him, to witness you looking around the house like itâs the first time you step foot in it.
Everything is the same as ever. Same furniture, same photos in the frames, same wallpaper, which make the few novelties even more striking. A plant in the corner of the living room, a new, more modern kettle in the kitchen. The black-and-white, low quality scan of your first ever article printed in Limelight is still displayed on the fridge, held up by the Brisbane magnet seventeen-year-old Jaeyun gifted you after he came back from visiting his family there.Â
You make your way upstairs slowly, holding onto the wooden rail for support, more emotional than physical. Your bedroom is a time capsule of your time in Gimcheon, with the same plain purple bedsheets your aunt bought before you arrived, the same posters of the boybands fifteen-year-old you obsessed over on your walls, the same fantasy series you used to devour during summer break on your shelves. You canât help but crack a smile at the sight of it all. In all the times youâve come back to this house, youâve never had it in you to change anything about this room. You want to keep it preciously, as if changing anything about it would change the memories associated with it, both good and bad.
Losing both of your parents at once had made you anything but an insouciant teenager. You were overly serious and reserved, grief forcing you to grow up far before any kid should have to. And yet, standing in this room, you remember the fleeting moments during which your biggest worries were a pimple on your chin or a test in a subject you didnât like.Â
For all your grievances against your aunt, you wouldâve turned into a much different person if she hadnât taken you in back then. Your dadâs family lived in another country, and you knew from conversations with your aunt that she and your mother didnât have the best relationship with their parents. Their brother had three kids of his own, whereas your aunt had none; it only made sense for her to welcome you into her house. When you were mad at her, you told yourself it was only her moral and legal obligation to take care of you as your closest relative, but when you were feeling more generous â which, for fifteen-year-old you, could be rare â you realized that having a comfortable room to yourself and cupboards always stocked with your favorite snacks was something to be grateful for.Â
And there were the friends you made here, whose pictures fill five entire photo albums. They made everything more tolerable, and even fun, when you allowed it to be. Of course, you would have never told them that, back thenâyou liked your cold exterior and the way they saw right through it.Â
Setting down your suitcase by your bed, you decide to go through the photo albums you assiduously filled back in high school instead of putting your things away. Itâs a better way to settle in and get yourself readyâyour nerves dissipate as you flip the pages, bright pictures blink up at you, of your friends at each othersâ houses, at the park on weekends, at the corner store after school. Youâre not in many of the pictures, usually hidden behind the camera, exaggeratedly frowning when Jaeyun managed to pry it from your hands and forced you in the frame.
He never heeded your protests when he wanted to swap places so you could be in the pictures you so often took. You remember the puppy eyes heâd make at you, which had no business being so effective, and the way heâd rest his larger hands on yours on the camera. Too unaccustomed to the feeling of your heartbeat speeding up, you would quickly hand it over to him then, turning away from him so he wouldnât see the obvious effect his touch had on you. It didnât help that heâd always show you the photo afterwards, pointing at you on the small screen, grinning as he said, âSee? You look pretty,â even though fear of being unphotogenic wasnât the reason you didnât like your picture to be taken.
Soon, your anxiety at seeing your friends and ex-classmates, after so long of making yourself unavailable to them, is almost entirely gone, replaced by excitement. There remains a pang of shame, especially at the thought of seeing Chaewon. How long had it been since youâd called her when you received that wedding invitation? Like Jaeyun, you know she wonât even be really mad, and that makes it worseâshe might make a light-hearted quip about it, but itâs as though theyâre scared that lecturing you about being MIA might only push you away further.
You tell yourself thereâs nothing to be scared about. The people youâll see tonight are but older versions of the people smiling at the camera, at you, in your photo albums.Â
You flip to a picture of you and Jaeyun taken without your knowledge, by Yunjin, if you remember correctly. Both of you sport wide smiles, the neon lights of the arcade game you were playing reflecting on your faces. It was his phoneâs home screen for ages.
Youâre so immersed in this trip down memory lane that you lose track of timeâwhen the front door opens and your aunt calls out your name, two hours have passed already. Pushing your awkwardness to the side, you let her hug you and repeat her words back to her when she tells you she missed you. You did miss her, but you only realize it once the familiar scent of her hair. Sheâs a creature of habitâshe still uses the shampoo she used when you first moved here at fourteen.Â
She was only twenty-six back then, younger than you are now. You donât know if you could deal with a temperamental, grieving teenager while youâd just lost your sister yourself.Â
âHow was the trip down? Iâm sorry I couldnât come and get you at the airport. I sent Jake instead, I figured you wouldnât mind if it was him,â she rattles, already filling the kettle for tea. This is so like her, saying a million things at once, always busying herself with something. You know that in an hour, when you leave for Chaewonâs house, sheâll settle herself on the couch and wonât leave it for the remainder of the evening, drained from her shift at the hospital.Â
âIt was fine, I didnât have any problems with my flight,â you reply, taking the knife from her hands and taking over the apple-cutting. âThere was an emergency at work?â
She sighs. âYeah, you know how weâre so understaffed in the summer. Some teenagers were messing around in a house under construction, and fell through a floor that wasnât done. No big injuries, but they needed an extra person to deal with parents and paperwork. At least I got to see these little shits get the talking-to of their life,â she says, making you laugh. She reaches for something in the cupboard, pulls out a packet of your favorite chocolate-flavored snacks from back then. âI got you these, if you want.â
âWow, I havenât eaten these in ages,â you say, chuckling at the familiar cartoon turtle on the bag.
âDo you not like them anymore?â
âNo, no, I do,â you say quickly to make your auntâs worried expression go away. âI just canât eat a bag in one sitting like I used to anymore, and they go stale too soon.â
She chuckles. âThatâs being an adult for you. I got a stomachache from a can of Coke the other day. Just one.â
You have time to spare before you need to start getting ready for Chaewonâs, so you sit at the dinner table together and catch up. The conversation floats somewhat on the surface of things, more about what youâve been doing than how youâve been doing. Youâre overly polite, keeping a distance for her sake more than your own, unsure how happy she really is to have you hereâand you have the feeling she thinks the same of you. The memory of your last fight hangs heavy in the air between you two, unspoken but tangible.
Itâs been easier talking to her since you moved away than it ever was when you lived here. You guess distance really does make the heart grow fonder, more willing to forgive and make amendsâthat, and growing up. Even after your fight, which you quickly understood had only happened because you let your emotions get the best of you after seeing Jaeyun in such a dishevelled state from losing his grandmother, you can have a normal conversation like this. Itâs a far cry from the silence that could stretch on for days when you were in high school.
Like with most dreaded things, you belatedly realize how much time you wasted stressing out about coming home, when there was nothing to worry about. Your mind had made up all sorts of scenarios, like your aunt would start yelling at you the moment you came through the door, rehashing your argument, or would barely give you the time of day during your entire stay. Itâs as though you forgot she was always the one who knocked on your door with a slice of takeaway pizza or a piece of buttered toast when you were being moody and wouldnât come down to eat. Who took you out for ice cream when she felt bad for being so caught up in work youâd hardly seen her all week. Who recorded your Saturday evening dramas on the TV while you were over at a friendâs house.
Youâve still got some talking to do, but it might not be as hard as you thought it would.
Fresh out of the shower, youâre changing into a nicer outfit and putting on light makeup when a text from Jaeyun lights up your phone. Heâs asking if you want a ride from him, which you declineâyour auntâs house is out of his way and itâs only a ten-minute bike ride for you, which you find yourself quite excited to go on, for purely nostalgic reasons.
Ok :) Iâll see you later, he texts back, and your stomach twists with both apprehension and giddiness. Having him there will make things so much easier, and yet the thought of spending prolonged time in his vicinity makes you unreasonably nervous.
Itâs just Jaeyun, you tell yourself, the guy who drooled on his textbook when he fell asleep in class. Who never got mad unless, in true soccer player fashion, felt another player had committed an unforgivable offense against him. Who insisted on watching horror movies then spent them with his face behind his hands.
You catch yourself smiling in the mirror and shake your head.
It really does feel like youâve been transported back to ten years ago as you wish your aunt a good evening and hop onto your bike, still in its same spot, resting against the side of the house, then ride down the streets youâll always know by heart. Gimcheon is at its prettiest during this time of year, the trees plump, their leaves dark green, the flowers bright. The summer evening breeze is warm on your skin, and the sun, low in the sky, casts a beautiful golden light on everything around you.
Itâs not long before you reach Chaewonâs houseâitâs still amazing to you how you can stand in front of it and say, yes, my friend owns this house. It actually belongs to herâand her fiancĂ©, Jaemin, of course. You donât know of a single person your age in Seoul who owns their apartment, except for Minjeong, but sheâs just exceptionally well-off. Itâs a nice, traditional house, with a wooden porch around the front where you know Chaewon, a Korean Nara Smith if youâve ever met one, will make gochujang and soy sauce from scratch once sheâs less busy with work and wedding preparations.Â
The gate is ajar, so you slide it further and let yourself in, calling out your friendâs name tentatively. Immediately you hear footsteps from inside the house, Chaewon squealing your name before she comes barrelling through the door and running towards you. She practically flings herself at you, and you stumble back a few steps as you catch her, laughing at her enthusiasm.
âUgh, Iâm so happy youâre finally here!â she exclaims, squashing the side of her face onto yours.
âIâm happy to be here, too,â you reply, chuckling. âThank you for the heartfelt welcome.â
Hands on your shoulders, she leans back, assesses you head-to-toe. You follow her gaze, wondering if the mid-thigh sundress you chose was a good decision. Is it too much cleavage? At your all-female workplace, there is no such thing as too much cleavage. âYou look good.â
âOkay, no need to sound so surprised.â
âIâm not!â she says, laughing. âOkay, a little bit, Iâm sorry. I thought youâd look all dishevelled like those busy city girls in the movies. Running around, getting coffee, whatever it is city people do. Thatâs what you look like when you FaceTime me after work.â
You sigh. âThatâs great to hear, Chae, thanks.â
âNo, donât take it the wrong way, itâs hot! But itâs nice to see you like this, with your hair down instead of your buns so tight they snatch your eyebrows.â
You frown. âI like my tight buns.â
âSo do I,â she says, tapping your butt with a cheeky smile. Before you can protest, she takes your hand and leads you into the house. âCome on, weâve made some changes inside, let me show you.â
âAm I the first person here?â you ask. The house is empty save for you and her, and probably Jaemin, somewhere.
She smiles at you mischievously. âOf course. Weâre going to catch up first. And who the hell starts a party at 6 p.m. anyway?â
Chaewonâs presence is everywhere around her house, from the white gauze curtains that flutter in the wind to the trinkets that line the shelves of a cupboard passed down onto her from her grandparents. There are new pieces of furniture here and there, and a nice patterned rug in the living room, but the biggest change has been done to the kitchen. Itâs been fully renovated to be more modern since you were last here, and itâs fully functional now, with everything she needs to make her homemade bread and her thousand side dishes that accompany every one of her meals. Itâs a good thing Jaeminâs a nice personâyou staunchly believe that not many people are deserving of the kind of care Chaewon is able to provide. You remember making that very clear when you came to visit for the holidays, and got a little too drunk with Chaewon for New Yearâs Eveâyou canât recall exactly what you said to him, but he could hardly look you in the eye for the remainder of your stay, so it mustâve left an impression.
Thereâs barely an inch of free space on the counter, and the fridge isnât faring much better. All sorts of salads and dips, meat and vegetable skewers, marinating chicken thighs, and of course, cupcakes. Tons of cupcakes. She doesnât let you lingerâJaemin walks into the kitchen, and youâve barely hugged him hello and exchanged niceties with him that sheâs already dragging you someplace else, telling rather than asking her fiancĂ© to finish getting the food ready.
She sits you down on a chair outside then heads back in, telling you sheâll be right back. It gives you some time to admire her backyard, the way itâs all been set up for tonight, cute cushions on the patio sofas, fairy lights strung in the trees, ribbons on the fence around her vegetable patch. Even back in high school, she grew green onions and avocados on the window sill of her parentsâ kitchen. Youâre excessively moved knowing that she has a whole garden to tend to now. Itâs so easy to picture her, wearing a sunhat as she waters and adds soil to her plants.Â
When she comes back out, itâs with two glasses of suspiciously pink liquid in her hands. She sees your weary expression and says, âDonât worry, you can barely taste the alcohol in it.â
âThatâs exactly what Iâm worried about,â you reply, but take a sip anyway. God knows youâre going to need some liquid courage to face tonight. Itâs overly sweet, tasting mostly of strawberry syrup, and almost not at all of the vodka and prosecco Chaewon says she put in. Fine with you.
She launches straight away into her usual interrogation. Itâs less daunting, because you can expect itâevery reunion with Chaewon means sheâs going to have a thousand questions for you if you donât turn the subject around on her at some point. She wants to know all of the office gossip as though she has personal stakes in who your coworkers are dating and what the workplace dynamics are like. She asks about your daily life, your friends, whether youâre seeing anyone.
âIâd have told you if I had a boyfriend, Chae,â you say.
She shrugs, a little sheepish. âI donât know. Thereâs lots of things you donât tell me about, you knowâŠâ
There it is, the sharp pang of guilt in your stomach. The summer breeze suddenly feels cold on your bare skin, the stillness of the countryside oppressive. Up until now, it felt like barely a few weeks had passed since youâd last seen Chaewon, but reality catches up to you now, with its distance and silences, the ones you imposed between the two of you. âIâm sorry,â you say quietly.
âNo, Iâm not mad!â she exclaims, panicked. âIâm just saying, I donât know so much about your life anymore, so this could be something I donât know about either⊠Iâm making this worse, arenât I?â she asks when she sees the pained look on your face.
You shake your head. âYouâre right, though. I know I should call more often, I justâŠâ
âWant to put this all behind you, I get it. You always talked about wanting to go back to Seoul in high school, so Iâm happy youâre able to thrive there now,â she says, although thereâs an edge to her voice that you know means sheâs more hurt than she wants to let on.
âBut it isnât fair to you.â
She shrugs again. When she looks at you, thereâs a small smile on her face that looks a little too forced. For as long as youâve known her, Chaewon has been wholly averse to conflictâthis is probably the hardest sheâll scold you for being so absent. But because itâs from her, itâs an effective reminder to be a better friend.
You canât help but put everything and everyone here in the same corner of your mind. You thought that to move on from one person, youâd need to move on from everyone, even Chaewon. You can only hope itâs not too late to start realizing how much of a fool youâve been.
âLook, I didnât get you all the way here to talk about this. I just wanna know how youâve been.â
âIâve been good, Chae, really. And now itâs your turn to present your life to me in excruciating detail.â
She chuckles and says, âFine, but weâll need a refill for this.â
âWhat? Has it been bad?âÂ
In the doorway, she turns around to look at you. âOh, not for me. My lifeâs been so awesome that youâll need to drink your jealousy away, babe.â
And indeed, when she comes back and tells all about her life recently with a dreamy look in her eyes, it isnât that youâre jealous per se, but that you realize this is the life a lot of people wish forâmarried with a nice house before thirty, and children soon, if you know her at all. And you agree these things sound nice, but theyâre not what you want for yourself right now. Sure, there have been hurdles: her parents-in-law are pretty conservative, but Jaemin always stands up for her, and her job as an elementary school teacher can be very tiring, but, she says, âhaving someone like him to come home to makes everything so much easier.â Sheâs always had a sentimental streak to her, but this close to the wedding, you can tell her love for Jaemin has never been so strong. Youâre reassured to see it doesnât stop her from ordering him around as usual, or scolding him when he puts the chocolate sprinkles on top of the blue frosted cupcakes even though she told him at least a million times that the star-shaped sprinkles went on those.Â
âBut the star-shaped ones taste like nothing, honey,â he says. You shake your head even if he canât see you. Chaewon gasps like he just told her to go fuck herselfâand in her eyes, itâs probably as though he has.
As much as she hates arguments, this is something sheâd lay her life down for. She heads into the kitchen to give him a piece of her mind, leaving you to reflect over her words. It makes everything so much easier. You do wonder what that must feel like, to have someone to come home to after a long day instead of a silent glass of wine. At least the wine canât judge you.
The two glasses of Chaewonâs pink mixture must really be getting to your head, because when she sits back down next to you, face flushed from a heated conversation about sprinkles, you find yourself telling her whatâs on your mind. âIâve almost had that a couple times, you know. Someone to come home to,â you say, feeling her gaze on the side of your face as you keep yours on the garden in front of you. âI did tell you about some of the guys I dated.â
âYeah, and you always seemed super unfazed about the break-ups.â
âI was. I always expected it to end one day or another, so I wasnât so surprised when that day came.â Her hand on your forearm is warm, anchoring, silently telling you that itâs okay to go on. âItâs not that I donât want that life. But whenever they started talking about meeting their parents, or moving in together, let alone get married⊠It just freaked me out. The idea of someone being so close to me, eventually knowing so much about me. Howââ You interrupt yourself, taken aback by the tears you feel pooling in your eyes. You turn to look at Chaewon, and something in her expression, in the familiarity of her features, makes you take a deep breath and keep talking. This is Chaewon. She wonât make fun of you for crying. âHow do you do it, Chae? How do you trust someone to still love you when they know about all the worst sides of you?â
âOh, honey,â she whispers, standing up to wrap her arms around you. A few silent tears stream down your cheeks, hopefully not staining her dress, as you hug her back tightly. âWhat about me? Minji, Yunjin? What about Jaeyun?â
Her voice seems to soften on his name, or maybe itâs your heart that softens upon hearing it. A part of you thinks he may be at fault for your unsatisfactory love lifeâknowing heâs out there makes it harder to fall for someone else. But thatâs something you couldnât admit to Chaewonâyou can barely admit it to yourself as it is.
âIâm sorry,â you say, sniffling against her shoulder. âI shouldnât be doing this today, of all days.â
She shushes you. âNo, no, itâs okay. Iâm glad youâre letting it out. Listen.â She crouches in front of you, brushes away strands of your hair that got stuck in your wet eyelashes. âThereâs nothing monstrous about you that would drive anyone away. Youâre more cautious than most of us when it comes to relationships, and thatâs okay. It just means that when you finally do give your heart to someone, theyâll be all the more deserving of it. And I promise you that someone is out there.â She smiles, adding, âMaybe closer than you think.â
âWhatâwhatâs that supposed to mean?â
âCome on,â she says with a laugh, unfolding from her crouch and holding her hand out to you. âYour makeupâs all messed up. Iâll help you fix it before everyone else gets here.â
In her upstairs bathroom, she pushes off all the clothes laying haphazardly on an armchair and instructs you to sit there. With four cocktails between the two of you, everything becomes funnyâyouâre both laughing so hard at the shape of her mascara tube that it takes her five minutes to properly apply the makeup to your lashes. She keeps scolding you for scrunching your eyes in laughter and stopping her from doing her job, as if sheâs not the one who canât see through the tears in her eyes. âNow my mascaraâs running!â she complains when she sees her reflection in the mirror.
Like little girls playing around with their motherâs beauty products, she applies eyeshadows of all colors on your lids, tries out a different lipstick on each half of your lips to see which one fits you best. You look ridiculous, but youâd probably let her keep going for hours if it wasnât for the sudden ring of the doorbell. You both freeze mid-laughing fit as if the whole point of this evening wasnât for people to come over, the blush brush in Chaewonâs hand floating inches from your cheek.
âWho is it?â you whisper, unable to tell who it is from the voices mixing with Jaeminâs downstairs.
âSounds like Jeno and his new girlfriend,â she whispers back. âYou havenât met her. Sheâs way too cool for him.â
âAs are all of Jenoâs girlfriends.â
Chaewon nods. Before she can say anything else, Jaeminâs voice rings out in the house, calling out for her. âBe down in a minute!â she shouts back, then turns to you. Her energy seems to have shifted from when you were laughing around together when she says, âLetâs get this off you. I made you look a little crazy.â
As she douses a cotton pad with makeup remover, you ask her quietly, âAre you okay?â
With the cotton over your eyes, you canât see her expression, but youâve known her long enough to picture it. The tight lips, the slightly furrowed eyebrows. âIâm okay, just a little nervous,â she says. âItâs been a while since weâve had this many people over at once.â
Your surprise only lasts a secondâalthough Chaewon had appeared nothing but excited every time you talked about this weekend, you remember how sheâd grow anxious in the last moments before any party she threw. You take the cotton pad from her hands, holding onto her wrist as you look earnestly into her eyes. âItâs going to be an amazing evening, Chae. Youâre the best hostess in this town. The food looks great, as it always does, and everyoneâs going to be ecstatic to see each other again. And to congratulate you! Youâre getting married in two days!â
A small smile was forming on her lips as you spoke, but itâs the mention of her wedding that really seems to do the trick. âI am,â she says quietly, smiling down at her feet like a giddy schoolgirl.Â
âAnd your fiancĂ©âs waiting downstairs for you. Along with Jeno and his cool girlfriend.â
She sighs deeply. âYouâre right. Iâve been busy all day getting everything ready, and now that thereâs nothing left to do, Iâm panicking.â
âThereâs no reason to,â you tell her, squeezing her wrist warmly. âGo. Iâll take care of my makeup.â
With a quick hug, Chaewon thanks you and heads downstairs. In the mirror, it really does look like a small child had far too much fun on your face. Wiping it all off with her cleansing oil and digging through her pouch for liner and a lip tint, you remember all the evenings spent at your auntâs house, her combing through your closet before a party because your aunt let you buy little tops that her parents would have a seizure seeing her wear. For once, the roles are reversed.Â
Calming her down has had the same effect on your nerves, although the heavy doses of vodka and prosecco in the cocktails mightâve helped. Your heart is only slightly beating faster than usual as the doorbell rings again, the voices of more people filling Chaewonâs and Jaeminâs living room. For some reason, youâre worried that coming downstairs as theyâre all greeting each other will be more awkward than meeting them out in the backyard, so you wait until it sounds like theyâve left the room. But your plan isnât so successfulâyouâre halfway down the stairs when the door opens again, the person entering seemingly familiar enough to this house to come in without announcing their presence. Your body registers the sight of him first, heart dropping to your stomach, electricity reaching all the way to your fingertips before his name has even made its way to your brain.
âJaeyun,â you breathe out, the wind knocked out of you as though you didnât see him mere hours ago and as though you were unaware of his being here tonight. What is wrong with you? Are you sure Chaewon didnât lace your drinks with something else?
His smile has the power to reassure you and double your nerves all at once. He waits for you, watching as you make your way down the remaining stairs. âLong time no see,â he says when you reach him, an infuriatingly charming grin on his lips. You canât bite back the one growing on your own. âI hope you didnât miss me too much.â
âIt was a struggle, but I made it through.â
He chuckles, and a few seconds pass in which you donât quite look at each other; youâre about to offer to join the others in the yard, but he speaks first. âYou look beautiful.â Three simple words, but coming from Jaeyun, and spoken with that low, intimate tone, they pack a punch.
You hope you donât look too obviously flustered as you gaze down at yourself, picking up the hem of your dress and rubbing the fabric between your fingers self-consciously. âThanks, Yun,â you say, voice barely above a whisper. You give yourself a few seconds to assess him, and the conclusion you come to doesnât help your stateâyouâve seen him wear white button-ups dozens of times before, at school events and fancy gatherings, but you swear his arms didnât always fill out the sleeves so perfectly, straining ever so slightly against the fabric. And sure, not having it buttoned to the top is fine, but are three undone buttons really necessary? You stop yourself from making a comment about cleavage and return his compliment instead. Then, with a frown, you tell him the others are already outside and turn on your heels.
Behind you, you hear a chuckle, then the sound of his footsteps following you. You thought itâd be nice to have Jaeyun around, a familiar and reassuring presence to look for if you ever felt awkward or out-of-place tonight, but it turns out it might be more distressing than anything.
Outside, all the newcomers, save for Jenoâs girlfriend, greet you with wide, surprised smiles, like they canât believe you actually made it all the way here. Most of your old classmates have stayed in the areaâone has gone abroad, a few have moved to Daegu, the closest big city, but for the most part, they either still live here or in nearby, somewhat larger towns with more job opportunities. Thatâs why theyâve remained such a tight-knit circle, why everyone knows everyoneâs business, and why you were much more nervous than anyone should be at the idea of going to their high school reunion. Your distance is all the more obvious by their lack thereof.Â
No one is showing you open hostility like in the worst-case scenarios youâd dreamed up, so you must be doing a good job at smiling and catching up with them and being normal with your hands, although you gladly accept the champagne glass Jaeyun hands you, thankful for something to keep them busy. And you find that itâs nice to be here. Itâs nice to know Yurim and Jimin are as inseparable as ever and are planning to do the whole baby-at-the-same-time thing (once they manage to both find a boyfriend). Itâs nice to see Jeno start to look less like a nerd over time, but that he hasnât lost his ability to bag the most beautiful women youâve ever met, like Giselle, who he very proudly introduces you to, and who is indeed way cooler than him. She volunteers at the animal shelter in her free time and DJs for huge techno clubs in the city on the weekend, so to be fair, sheâs cooler than most people.
As more people start trickling in, instead of retreating into yourself, you relax. The weather is perfect, the sun making its slow, lazy descent into the night, a warm summer breeze coming through; people are happy to be here, to see each other, to see you; when Chaewon isnât frantically running around, making sure that everyone is doing okay and that there are enough mini-fours to go around, she actually looks like sheâs enjoying herself.
And thereâs Jaeyun. Itâs not that you mean to notice him, but your gaze keeps drifting to him of its own volition. He moves through the crowd with ease, clearly surrounded by people heâs comfortable with, always being pulled into conversations or making small talk with everyone he bumps into. His eyes seem to find yours often, and every time, he smiles at you like he knows something you donât. Instead of quickly turning away like he used to as a teenager, unashamed at getting caught, his eyes linger on your face before slowly returning to whoeverâs talking to him.
Thereâs a really annoying moment when heâs standing by the barbecue, keeping Jaemin company while he grills sausages and skewers, holding a bottle of beer in one hand, talking and laughing seemingly without a care in the world, as though he doesnât know, or care, how infuriatingly hot he is. Hair pushed back from his forehead, a slight blush on his cheeks from the heat of the grill, that stupid third button still popped open. He looks like he was taken straight from the front cover of a menâs magazine, and it shouldnât be this attractive, but it is, and thereâs nothing you can do about it but down the rest of your champagne glass.
Somethingâs different about him. Despite having seen him over the years, all this time, whenever youâve thought of Jaeyun, the person who came to mind was fifteen, sixteen, seventeen. A little shy, especially around girls, but with a smile that could charm a rock and that he hadnât yet discovered the power of. The pant legs of his school uniform were a little too long because he was sure heâd have one last growth spurt in your final year of school after seeing Heeseung go through one. He never did, then couldnât be bothered to exchange them or get them hemmed. They got soaking wet every time it rained. Of course some things have remained unchangedâheâs still as attentive as always, remembering small things about people, asking them about it, and listening with genuine interest when they answer. He doesnât try to make things about him, and he doesnât get annoyed when they ramble on for minutes on end without ever returning a question. Itâs hard to pinpoint exactly what it is that feels so new about him, so unfamiliar in this exciting, intriguing way.
After observing him through careful, discreet glances (which he seems to notice half of), you come to the conclusion that itâs in the way he carries himself. He stands straighter, walks with more confidence, and has figured out what to do with his arms. Heâs always been a human magnet: old ladies made conversation with him in grocery lines, strangers stopped him in the street for directions, he was elected class president every year without ever putting himself forward. You remember the pressure he used to feel because of it, like he couldnât bear to let anyone down although he was sure itâd inevitably happenâbut now, he seems completely at ease with all this attention on him. Not like heâs gloating, but like heâs in his element.
Eager to avoid his gaze and the dreadful feelings it causes in you, you move around the backyard as often as he does under the guise of catching up with as many as you can, always managing to be part of a different group than he is. And you drink. Everyone does, so youâre not embarrassing yourself on your ownâitâs a known fact that Chaewon can and will feed an army, so her guests bring tons of alcohol to make up for all her efforts. Your glass never goes empty for long simply because no one lets itâyou could refuse, but you donât.Â
You spend thirty minutes stuffing yourself with Chaewonâs cucumber salad and getting all the staff drama of your old school from Yunjin, who now works there as an English teacher. When sheâs done telling you about the affair between the vice-principal and your Year 11 Geography teacher, she takes you aback by asking, âSo, whatâs up between you and Jaeyun?â
Back in high school, people often mistook you for a couple or joked around about you liking each other, so you do as you did thenâyou laugh it off, saying thereâs nothing there. That doesnât seem to satisfy Yunjin, however. She tilts her head at you, asking, âAre you sure? He seems so⊠attentive to you. Just now at the buffet he stopped you from getting the potato salad because thereâs mustard in it. And in high school he was always running around doing things for you. All the girls were jealous of you.â
Your smile feels frozen, plastered on as you stare down at your plate. âThatâs just Jaeyun. Heâs nice to everyone, it doesnât mean anything.â
âY/N,â a voice says, but it definitely does not belong to Yunjin. Not only does it come from behind you, itâs also much too deep to be hers. When you lift your head, sheâs looking right over your shoulder, surprise written all over her features. You turn around to find Jaeyun standing there, handing you a hot dog. âDelivery,â he says, tone light, but his closed-off expression betrays him. You donât know how much of your conversation he heard, but he mustâve not liked it. Youâre not sure whyâitâs not like you lied. Jaeyun is nice to everyone.Â
You bite into the bread. It has all of your perfect toppings for a hot dogâketchup, fried onions, shredded cheddar and jalapeños. When Yunjin leans towards you, a hand on your arm as she says, âI donât think it doesnât mean anything,â you wonder if sheâs right.
A few drinks later, youâre stumbling inside the house, headed for the bathroom, when a hand wraps around your wrist. It belongs to none other than Jaeyun, whose expression is a mix of amusement and concern. Now that all the foodâs come out, the kitchen is dark, bathing in the fairy lightsâ glow from outside and from the few other lights in Chaewon and Jaeminâs garden. And itâs empty, save for the two of you. Itâs only the copious amounts of alcohol running in your blood that makes you think how enticing he looks in this semi-darkness, or that makes you imagine the affection you think you see in his eyes.
Of course youâd spend all evening avoiding him only to find yourself face-to-face alone with him suddenly like this. You look down at his fingers on you, and he lets go.
âHere.â With his other hand, he offers you a glass of water.
âIâm good,â you say, trying to sound casual, but you donât like the close attention heâs paying you. Or maybe youâre embarrassingly drunk and heâs sending you a message. In any case, itâs always been hard for you to accept Jaeyunâs small gesturesâyou always have to remind yourself heâs doing it out of the goodness of his heart and not because he especially cares about you.Â
âY/N.â The way he says your name makes lightning zip down your spine. His voice is stern, but thereâs a certain warmth to it. Like youâre being unreasonable, but cutely so.Â
You take the water from his hands and down it in one go. âHappy?â
âVery,â he says, a smirk on his lips that you frown at as he takes the cup back and places it in the sink. He rests his hands behind him on the counter, eyes searching your face, and you, for some reason, stand there and let him instead of going to the bathroom like youâd originally set out to do. Even as silence stretches out between you, your feet are frozen, and youâre finally courageous enough to meet his gaze without backing down. Even as his eyes scan your face, settling on your lips, and your heart threatens to give out. Even as he takes a step towards you and your chest starts visibly heaving up-and-down with every breath you take.
When heâs standing in front of you, he finally speaks, his voice unlike youâve ever heard it beforeâlow, vulnerable, and with a hint of ruggedness that makes your head spin. âHave you been avoiding me?â
âNoââ
âDonât lie to me, Y/N, please.â He sounds like heâs seconds away from pleading with you. Heâs never been one to hide when heâs hurt, so youâve heard him many times like this, but never when you were the cause of his upset. It was always because of a bad grade, a fight with his parents, a joke he took the wrong way. You wouldnât know if you ever hurt him before, because heâs never come to you about it. It feels weird knowing youâre capable of such a thing.
âIâm nâOkay, yes, Iâm avoiding you a little bit,â you say in a small voice. Whether itâs the look on Jaeyunâs face or the last cocktail you had, but you canât bring yourself to pretend.Â
But you belatedly realize that of course, answering this question will only bring about another, much harder to answer: âWhy?â
So you make up another lie thatâs about as believable as the first one. âIâI donât know, Yunnie. Iâm just trying to speak to as many people as I can.â
âBut not me?â
Is he drunk? He always got whinier after drinking. That must be it. Although his voice isnât whiny at allâheâs not complaining, he rather sounds like he has answers he wants from you and is set on getting them. But itâs the only explanation you can come up with.
Youâre unable to keep his gaze anymore. Looking down at the floor, you say, âWe spoke earlier. Weâre speaking now.â
âYeah, and I practically had to corner you for it.â The vulnerability has left his voice and he sounds⊠frustrated?Â
He crosses his arms over his chest, and despite yourself, your eyes follow the movement. Heâs rolled up his sleeves, letting out his forearms on full display for you. Thatâs an image you immediately need out of your head, so you make the mistake of looking up at his face again, only to be met with his jaw locked tight, his eyebrows slightly furrowed, and the intensity of his eyes staring right into yours.
Heâs allowed to be mad, but does he have to look so good doing it?
As if he wasnât close enough already, he takes another step towards you. It forces you to look up at him, and the sight of his face so near yours is devastating. You can already tell itâll haunt you for nights to come.
âDo I make you nervous, Y/N? Is that why you donât want to be around me?â
You inhale sharply, audibly, and the sound seems to amuse Jaeyun. The way he smirks down at you should be condescending, but he manages to make it impossibly attractive. Like he has you exactly where he wants youâwhich doesnât make any sense. You donât understand why heâs doing this, why itâd upset him that youâd rather talk to other people than to him, how heâs figured out the reason youâre avoiding him is the butterflies gnawing at your stomach every time your gazes intertwine. Heâs never done any of this before.
âNo,â you find yourself saying, but itâs an obvious lie to both of you. Youâre breathless uttering that one word, fingers shaking from the tension in your body and Jaeyunâs proximity.
Then he sighs, and the Jaeyun you know is returned to you. A little tired by your antics, maybe, but more worried than anything. âIâll take you home when youâre ready to go.â
âButââ
âNo buts. Just come get me when you want to leave.â And with that, he turns and heads back outside, leaving you to wonder what that was all about as you wobble your way to the bathroom.
When you come back out, you make a point of sitting in the empty lawn chair next to Jaeyun and joining the conversation heâs in. He smiles at you and you glare at him, feeling like a scolded child.
Maybe alcohol makes you a little immature.
Youâre having a grand old time listening to Jenoâs and Giselleâs travel stories, but as people slowly start making their way home, aware of the weekend full of festivities theyâve got ahead of them, dread sinks in. When the partyâs over, youâll be left alone with Jaeyun. Thankfully, thereâs enough alcohol left to throw another party, and you serve yourself a couple of very generous cranberry-vodkas to prepare yourself for later. Maybe if youâre passed out in Jaeyunâs car you wonât have to talk to him.
When the gardenâs really starting to empty out, you find a small moment during which Jaeyun is busy chatting with Jaemin and some other guys, and stealthily approach Chaewon to tell her youâll be on your way now.Â
âArenât you leaving with Jaeââ
You interrupt her with a hand to her mouth. Even though heâs across the yard from you, you donât want to risk it. âIâll see you tomorrow,â you whisper, then tip-toe your way around the backyard to the front of the house, where your bike waits for you. Somewhere deep in the back of your head, part of you has remained sober enough to tell you how bad an idea it is to bike home after drinking so much. You wouldnât run into many cars at this time of night, but itâll be dark, and the ditches are deep here.Â
But you couldnât have predicted for your best friend to betray you. Just as youâre succeeding on your third try to swing your leg over your bike, you hear her voice, clear as day, shouting, âJaeyun! Y/Nâs leaving without you!â
You swear he teleports over to you. You freeze, hoping that moving as little as you can will turn you invisible.
It doesnât work.
âWhat are you doing?â Jaeyun asks as he makes his way over to you. Youâre relieved when he doesnât sound annoyed, just concerned. He stands in front of you, two hands on your bike handle right next to yours. âI told you to come get me when you were ready. You canât go home on your own like this.â
âSure I can.â You try to hoist yourself up onto your seat, and immediately lose balance, stumbling to the side. Thankfully, Jaeyunâs hand finds your waist before you can fallâit steadies your body but not your heart.Â
âCome on, Y/N. Letâs get you to bed.â
Does he hear himself? Heâs just being a good friend, so why does he have to phrase things in such an intimate way, and make your heart go all pitter-patter like the sixteen-year-old you once were? Why does he have to speak to you in that low, affectionate tone of his, like youâre someone he canât help but take care of?Â
You take a deep breath, resigning yourself to your fate. âOkay.â
He helps you off of your bike and into his car. His hold on you is gentle but firm, and you try your very hardest not to think about whether this is how he would hold you in other situations. Before he can even turn on the ignition, you close your eyes and pretend to sleep. You hear him chuckle, then back out of Chaewonâs and Jaeminâs driveway. Once or twice, you hear him inhale as though heâs going to speak, but he seems to decide against it. A ten-minute bike ride makes for a very short car ride, and before you know it, heâs already pulling up in front of your auntâs house. You keep your pretense up as he walks around the car and opens your door, and youâre sure you make a very convincing show of waking up and being sleepy.
As he takes your hand to help you out of the car, you ignore your instincts yelling at you to jump away from him. You tell yourself itâs only so you don't get caught in your lie that you let him slip an arm over his shoulders and guide you to your front door. It has nothing to do with the fact that your skin tingles everywhere it touches his, or that it feels terribly nice to be handled with so much care and patience. The front door is unlocked, and he holds you steady as you slip out of your shoes. Only when he closes the door behind you do you snap out of it.
âThank you, Yun. Iâll be alright from here.â
He narrows his eyes at you. âIâm not sure you will. I donât trust you not to trip up the stairs.â
You panic as he leads you further inside the house. âButâWhat if my aunt sees us?â
He stops in his tracks, then turns his head to look down at you with something you think is mischief in his eyes. âWhy? What about it?â
âShe might misunderstand!â you whisper-yell.
âWhatâs there to misunderstand, Y/N? Iâve taken you home drunk a dozen times before. Besides, Iâm just Jaeyun, right? This doesnât mean anything.â Youâre left speechless. So he did hear you earlier, and although he kept his tone light-hearted, something makes you think he isnât entirely unoffended. You stare at him, sure the guilt on your face is obvious. Eventually, he sighs, starts walking again. âIâm just teasing you.â
Despite yourself, you are glad heâs there to help you up to your bedroomâthe stairs are remarkably wobbly tonight. Even though he tries to sit you down gently onto your bed, you let yourself flop on the mattress, already half-asleep the moment your back hits it. Youâre uncharacteristically pliant as he guides you into a more comfortable position, lifting your head to rest on your pillows, pulling your duvet over you. You somehow feel more drunk now than you were leaving the party, as though Jaeyunâs touch and proximity are stronger than any alcohol. Maybe thatâs why you suddenly find this situation hilarious. Your first chuckle makes Jaeyunâs hand freeze on your blanket; then, when giggles start pouring uncontrollably out of you, he asks you whatâs so funny, and has to shush you, saying youâll wake your aunt up. But you can tell heâs amused, and it only makes you laugh more.Â
âSeriously, whatâs gotten into you?â he asks, sitting next to you. For some reason, the dip of his weight on the mattress feels reassuring.
âThis is just nice,â you mutter, eyes still closed. âIt feels nice.â
Heâs silent for a few seconds. âWhat is?â he whispers.
âThis. You being here.â
He releases a shaky breath. âIt could happen more often, if you let me. It could happen every night.â
You giggle, because you know heâs just joking around. But you let him, even if it hurts a little bit, and you play along. âYeah, thatâd be nice. I think Iâd sleep a lot better.â
With a delicate finger, he brushes strands of hair away from your eyes. You hum, smiling contentedly at his touch. This is such a nice dream that you hope you wonât have to wake up too soon from. âI think I would, too,â he whispers, voice shaky like he isnât at all happy like you are, which confuses you. âI donât know what to do, Y/N. I want so badly to take care of you, but you wonât let me. I donât know how else to show you how good I could be to you.â
âYouâre taking care of me now.â
âYeah, and youâre so drunk you probably wonât remember this tomorrow.â
He sniffles, and you suddenly get the sensation that this isnât a dream at all. You keep your eyes closed anyway, frowning as you turn your head to the side, tears starting to form behind your eyelids.
âBe back in a minute,â he whispers.
You open your eyes to find him gone. You try to make sense of what just happened, but your thoughts are muddled and hazy, and more questions than answers appear. You donât come to any satisfying conclusions, at least none that arenât clearly fueled by your delusions concerning Jaeyun.Â
When he comes back, heâs holding a tall glass of water. He seems briefly surprised to see you awake. He puts the glass gently down onto your bedside table, then kneels by your bed, grabbing your hand that youâd slipped above the comforter. He looks into your eyes with an intensity youâre unfamiliar with coming from him, and that makes your stomach twist. âListen, Y/N. Youâre only here for a few days, so Iâll be very clear about this. And if youâve forgotten by tomorrow, Iâll make sure to remind you.â He pauses here, takes a deep breath. Thereâs a furrow in his eyebrows as he speaks. He looks desperate, but for what, you couldnât tell. âIâm not letting you go this time. I feel like I keep losing you, over and over again, just when I think I finally have you. Iâm not letting that happen again. I donât want to be apart from you anymore.â
Your mind is reeling. You feel dizzy. You close your eyes, but it doesnât help. Jaeyunâs words are loud and nonsensical in your head. âDo you mean⊠as friends?â you ask, because the other option seems so impossible, even in your inebriated state, you can hardly seriously entertain it.
He sighs, and it sounds like disappointment. âIf thatâs what you want, then Iâll give up on trying to be more. But if it isnât what you want, then no.â
Your eyes fly open. Does that meanâŠ
âIâm in love with you, Y/N. Iâve always been, and I canât take hiding it anymore. Iâll take rejection over another day of pretending all I want to be is your friend. I want to talk to you everyday. I want to see you more often. I canât keep going like this, calling you once every few months and acting like Iâm fine with it.â
Youâre stunned into silence. Even your thoughts are frozen, your mind completely blank. How do you react to words youâve wanted to hear your whole life, and have convinced yourself you never would, not in a million years?
âIââ
âYou donât have to say anything now,â he interrupts, and youâre relieved. âWhatever it is, Iâd rather hear it when youâre sober. Iâm sorry for springing this up on you, I just⊠I think I wouldâve flaked out if I hadnât done it right now.â
He gazes down at you with a fondness youâve only seen in your dreams, and strokes your hair. âIâll let you sleep now. Iâll see you tomorrow, okay?â
âOkay,â you say, surprised you're able to speak.Â
âOkay.â
He seems to hesitate for a second, but whatever it is, he decides against it. He gets up, and with one final glance back at you, closes your bedroom door gently. You listen for his footsteps down the stairs, the sound of the front door, and of his car driving away, and find yourself wishing heâd stayed, wishing for proof that you didnât dream up everything he just said.Â
.
.
Iâm in love with you, Y/N.
You wake with a start. Jaeyunâs voice was so loud in your head, you thought he was standing right over youâbut itâs only your imagination playing tricks on you, you realize with some disappointment.Â
Some moments from last night are blurry or simply inexistent in your mind. Yurim sent selfies a bunch of you took to the group chat, of which you have no recollection being a part of. You have no idea how the marker doodles appeared on your arm, nor who is the artist behind them. But Jaeyunâs words you remember with dizzying, intimidating clarity, the words he spoke to you in the near-complete darkness of this room, and that you donât think you could ever forget, no matter your state.
Part of you has always longed to hear those words, but another part has always dreaded they would be heard one day. You donât know which part is stronger right now. Replaying his voice in your mind, your heart flutters at the same time as your stomach sinks. Theyâre words that have the power to change everything, that perhaps already have, and thatâs what terrifies you.
Itâs already ten in the morning. You wish you could stay here all day, safe under the covers, rehashing those words until they lose all meaning, but you know thatâs impossible. Not only do you have a pounding headache and a mouth drier than the desert to tend to, more importantly, you have a responsibility to be there for Chaewon and the things sheâs planned for today. So you force yourself out of bed and begrudgingly make your way downstairs.Â
Your aunt has already left for work. Breakfast is ready on the dining table, along with a tall glass of water, ibuprofen, and a note that reads: I didnât hear you come home last night, so I assume you had a good time. Take this and eat your weight in bread. Thereâs coffee left in the Keurig. Bless her. You know better than to eat too much, thoughâif thereâs one thing Chaewon takes seriously, itâs brunch, so you know youâll have plenty of food to cure your hangover in just a bit.Â
As hard as you try to divert your thoughts towards anything else, itâs impossible not to think of what Jaeyun said last night. Itâs all your mind circles back to, like a vulture thatâs found its prey and wonât let go. Despite that, the shock has yet to wear off, and you stare into your cup of coffee, searching in vain for answers there.
It took you a while to fall for Jaeyun, then it took you even longer to admit those feelings to yourself. At fourteen years old, stepping foot in Gimcheon for the first time, you wanted nothing to do with the people here. Not with your aunt, not with your classmates. You wanted to wallow in your grief, for the bitterness of the injustice thatâd taken your parents away from you to fully take over you.Â
Jaeyun was one of the people who didnât let that happen. Some of the kids in your class found you odd or standoffish, often whispering behind your back about your sudden arrival in town, but he and Chaewon never failed to try and talk to you despite your extremely low-effort replies, to invite you out for snacks or basketball after class, to send you the lessons you missed on days your body felt too heavy to get out of bed.Â
Nothing in particular happened for you to suddenly change your mind about them. Maybe it was because you thought theyâd stop pestering you if you just said yes, or because you sometimes felt the sharp loss of your friends in Seoul, whose calls youâd all ignored since moving. You surprised your new classmates as much as yourself when they asked you if you wanted to go eat tteokbokki with them, and you casually said, âSure, why not,â as if your acceptance was a daily occurrence.Â
The rest was history. Although it took some more time before you really opened up to them, they accepted you the way you were, sharp edges and all. With them, part of the person you were before could resurface, carefree, happy. You still went home to a mostly silent, grief-stricken relative, who was practically a stranger to you, but at least you could look forward to seeing your friendsâand something as simple as that made life easier every day.
As soon as you thought they started to appear, you tried to squash your feelings for Jaeyun, to no avail. Just when you told yourself you could never be more than friends, heâd bring you strawberry milk from the convenience store he walks by on his way to school. After spending an evening making a list of all the reasons itâd be a bad idea for you to date (itâd be awkward with your friends, you and your sadness would be a burden to him, it was too scary to get close to someone when they could leave you at any time), youâd wake up the next morning with a text that said, Good morning!!!! Did you know that if the Sun stopped shining, itâd take 8.5 minutes for us to realize it??!Â
But I know right away when youâre not shining
:)
Momâs making your favorite shrimp jeon tonight so you HAVE to come over
And even your strongest will wasnât enough against the force of his kindness. You were forced to submit to it, and to suffer for it for years to comeâwhen other girls offered him chocolate on Valentineâs Day. When Bae Sumin asked him to the dance, and you had to ignore his concerned expression as he repeatedly asked you if it was really okay that he went, and all you could do was smile and convince him that it was. When you left for university and you had to stop yourself from asking why it seemed to be making him so sad, so uncharacteristically upset with you, almost like he wanted to punish you for leaving him. When every time you came back after that, it became harder and harder to say goodbye to him again.
You got mad at him sometimes. If something unexpected reminded you of your parents, like your momâs favorite dish being served at the cafeteria, or someone using an expression your dad often said, youâd become irritable, and would be unable or unwilling to explain why. He was so patient with you then, even more attentive to your mood than usual, but the feeling of being treated kindly, like he needed to walk on eggshells around you, incomprehensibly made you even more abrasive. Youâd blow up at him: I donât need your help, I donât need your pity, get off my back, what are you even being so nice for anyways?
And his reply would only drive you further insane: Because I care about you.
Youâd always wish heâd say anything else, something less vague like Because itâs the right thing to do, or Because thatâs who I am, or even Because youâre my friend, but no, heâd say, âBecause I care about you,â and it was worse than anything he could ever say.
Because of course, friends care about each other. Of course they help each other out and do kind things for one another. But you so desperately wished Jaeyun could care for you in another way. And that was the problem: you couldnât stop yourself reading into his actions, devoid of the meaning you wanted them to have.
And there was always that lingering thought: Iâm leaving anyway. You were a city girl at heart. You missed the beauty stores that occupied five floors, the animal cafĂ©s you and your friends had spent way too much of your allowance at, the billboards of your favorite celebrities in the subway, the libraries with their wide range of manhwas for you to choose from. As much as youâd come to love your life in Gimcheon, you knew you couldnât stay. You knew you couldnât live on a nearby campus during the week and come back on the weekends like most of your friends would be doing.Â
At eighteen years old, you wanted a clean break. You wanted to attend a prestigious university, to dress up for class, to have study dates at a cozy cafĂ©, to go out to a club on the weekend and not worry about how youâd get home because the buses stopped running way before midnight. Youâd daydream about the cool job youâd have, the cool clothes youâd wear, the cool people youâd meet. Then youâd go downstairs and see your aunt, and sheâd ask if you were okay with frozen dumplings for a third night in a row. Or youâd arrive at school and see Chaewon and Yunjin shrieking over Got7âs new song. Or youâd get a text from Jaeyun, saying, Cats use physics to land on their feet. Theyâre not aware of it though. And suddenly, the idea of a clean break became much, much harder.
Once you left, your reasons for not confessing to Jaeyun didnât changeâif anything, they strengthened. Growing up didnât make you any less scared of opening up to someone, of letting them see the vulnerable sides of you, and hoping theyâd still love you. Even if you had a positive example in Chaewon and Jaeyun, youâd never experienced it with a romantic partner, and not only did your incessant but unconscious comparing of them to Jaeyun stop you from completely falling in love with the few boyfriends youâve had over the years, your inability to fully bare yourself emotionally to them inevitably caught up to you. Theyâd point it out, trying to coax your story and emotions out of you with kind words, gentle touchesâbut you never wanted it enough to make the extra effort. Theyâd take your independence as a personal affront, like it was a fault on their part that you were allergic to relying on others. Theyâd get frustrated. Some of them would yell at you while you stared off into the distance, numb, wondering if youâd always be like this. Theyâd break up with you, and youâd move on like nothing happened.
The fear of loss still froze your heart into place. Even in the throes of puberty, your mother and father were your two favorite people on Earth. At thirteen, you thought theyâd live forever. You were reasonable enough to know not everyone you loved would dieâalthough the thought of going through that grief again did keep you up at night. A bad break-up was enough to terrify you. And what would you do when you finally handed your heart to someone, only for them to turn around and decide they donât want it after all?
A handful of times, you tried to sit yourself down and imagine, as objectively as you could, what might happen if you confessed your feelings to Jaeyun. You tried, but you never could. It was too scary, with him. As your friend, he was the glue that held you together. If you took that one step closer, youâd be too far goneâand once that happened, who was to say, when it inevitably ended, if youâd ever be able to tape yourself back together.
Youâve had many self-indulgent thoughts over the years, many delusions youâve had to compel yourself away from when he looked at you a little long, grew a little too quiet when you talked about another boy, came up with increasingly ridiculous excuses to walk you home even though it was out of his way. Youâve worked so hard to bury them deep, and here he comes, so late on a Thursday night that it became a Friday morning, telling you it was neither self-indulgence nor delusion.Â
Itâs too much to process with a hangover.Â
Your shower doesnât have the relaxing effect you hoped it would have on your nerves. Even when you turn the temperature as low as you can take it, your skin burns hot at the thought of seeing Jaeyun again, of him repeating himself in broad daylight. By the time youâve dressed and gotten ready, your heart is still racing wild, and youâre no closer to figuring out what the correct attitude around him or right thing to say is.
Youâre tying your shoelaces when the doorbell rings. Of course, itâs Jaeyun standing behind the door, asking you if youâre ready to go to Chaewonâs.Â
You just gape at him. Youâd prepared yourself mentally to see him a little later, with other people aroundâyou hadnât expected this and your brain simply malfunctions as a result.
He chuckles. âI wasnât going to let you walk all the way there. You left your bike, remember?â
From his softened tone and the way he gulps as he awaits your answer, you can tell heâs not just asking whether you remember the drive home. He looks at you, a little expectant, a little scared, and his demeanor relaxes you. Heâs not acting like nothing happened last night, and he doesnât seem overly confident afterâwell, after confessing his love for you. Thatâs what it was, wasnât it? No matter how hard a time you have believing it. It relaxes you because it feels like youâre not worrying alone about this shift in your friendship, about this rearranging of things and feelings. With just one look, he tells you heâs right there with you.
And thatâs all you need.
âRight. Thanks, Yun.â
He stands there for a little, expression morphing into something giddier, more hopeful, and you wonder how long heâd stay there looking at you if you didnât clear your throat and say, âShould we⊠go?â
âYes! Yes, of course, letâs go,â he says, laughing awkwardly, rubbing the back of his head as he turns away and heads towards his car.
Surely, he canât always have been this obvious. Surely, if heâs been in love with you for as long as he says he has, then he learned just as well as you did to school his feelings and make them as discreet as he could. Because if he was acting this way all along, all boyish grins and non-stop glances your way, then you wouldâve had to be the densest person on Earth not to notice.
And it hurts your pride a little to think you mightâve actually been this dense.
After a minute on the road, he asks, âHow are you feeling? Not too hungover?â
âA little. But Iâll feel a lot better after having some of Chaeâs pancakes.â
âYeah. And the pressed orange juice as well. With theââ
ââOranges from her grandparentsâ garden?â you say at the same time, and laugh.
âYeah. Itâs the best,â he says.
âWhat about you?â you ask. âYou didnât drink that much last night, right?â
âYep. Just a beer at the start of the evening, and thatâs it.â Then, he smiles, a little smug, and adds: âWhy? Were you watching?â
You scoff, crossing your arms over your chest as though he was making a ridiculous assumption, when you very well knew you were constantly aware of his whereabouts last night. Of course you noticed him sipping on either water or Pepsi the entire evening. âI was not. But you were able to drive, so I assumed.â
âRight.â That smug smile of his is still fixed on his lips, so you know you sounded just as unconvincing as you felt. âWell, I was watching. And I can tell you you drank something like seven different sorts of alcohol last night.â
For your own sanity, you ignore the first part, and focus on the second. You groan, hiding your face in your hands. âThatâs why my headacheâs so bad.â
Jaeyun reacts immediately. His head turns back-and-forth between you and the road ahead as he says, âIs it? Did you drink enough water? There should be some painkillers in the glove compartment, if youââ
âItâs okay, Yun,â you interrupt, laughing softly. âI took some ibuprofen already. Iâll feel better after eating.â
He seems skeptical. âOkay. But let me know if you need anything, yeah?â
âI will.â
As you feel the tingle of incoming tears in your eyes, you turn your head away from him. Looking out the passenger window, you think how stark the difference is between being on the receiving end of Jaeyunâs attentiveness when you were just friends, and now that you know the way he really sees you. The crushing weight of your repressed emotions is, at last, gone, and youâre only left with a light-heartedness you havenât felt in years.
Is there really a universe where every day is like this? It feels too good to be true.Â
But when Jaeyun reaches out, the palm of his hand facing up as it floats above your thigh, his expression bashful, you think â you dare to hope â you might soon be living in that universe. You take his hand, and the rest of the car ride is silent, like this one simple touch is all the words you need.
Youâre glad you remember what he told you last night. Hearing it again now, in broad daylight, with no alcohol in your system to be blamed for your reactions, would be too much to bear. The mere thought of it has your heart racing, more than it already is from the warmth of Jaeyunâs hand in yours. You look down at it, the way it sits so prettily in your lap, the way his fingers intertwine with yours like itâs what they were meant to do. You crave to touch his hand more, to turn it around and analyze the lines of his palm, to feel the ridges of his knuckles, the smoothness of his nails under your fingers, but you stop yourself. Itâs an art piece in a museum that you content yourself with watching from afar, awed.
Too soon, you arrive at Chaewonâs house. The loss of Jaeyunâs touch is almost alarmingâwhat if he changes his mind and this was the only time youâd get to do this?
But as though he can read your thoughts, he guides you with a hand to your lower back towards Chaewonâs and Jaeminâs front doorâand he pauses before it, gazing down at you with a smile you want to interpret as reassuring.Â
Iâm not letting you go this time. Iâm not letting that happen.
Maybe youâre overly self-conscious, but you swear a few of your old classmates exchange knowing looks when you and Jaeyun arrive together. Chaewon is the least discreet about it, stopping in her tracks when she sees the two of you, a steaming plate of pancakes in her hands, her smile wide as she gets Jaeminâs attention and nods her head in your direction. You want to escape to the kitchen under the pretense of offering your help, but Jaeyun is already pulling out a chair for you and taking a seat in the one next to it.Â
Thankfully, almost everyone is in a state similar to yours, too hungover and tired to really pay either of you too much attention. Their minds are on the food in their plates and the coffee in their mugsâthe atmosphere is relaxed, everyone making quiet conversation with their neighbors. With Chaewon on your right and Jaeyun on your left, youâre free to scarf down hash browns and scrambled eggs without having to entertain anyone. He seems to be pretty engrossed in his chat about soccer with Jeno, and yet, he knows every time you need something, standing up and reaching for the bacon or the orange juice before youâve even said anything. He holds the plate while you serve yourself, then places it back to its original spot, shooting you a smile that never fails to make your stomach twist before returning his attention to Jeno.
Chaewon had kept this afternoonâs activities a secret, only telling you all to have your school uniform ready. Some came to brunch already wearing it, but you and a few other girls go up to Chaewonâs room to change. It feels like being back in a locker room again, a bit awkward, a bit fun, teasing Yunjin for her matching black lace set on this seemingly innocuous day, comparing the stretch marks youâve obtained in the years since you last wore your uniforms.
Itâs definitely odd, seeing yourself in the mirror in that familiar short-sleeved white shirt and knee-length marine skirt. Despite how badly you wanted to grow out of Gimcheon, some things have remained the sameâthat much, youâre forced to admit to yourself when you head back to the living room and see Jaeyun in his old school uniform, a blast from the past. He watches you come down the stairs with a smile, and you wonder if heâs thinking the same things you areâthat youâve never stopped feeling like a teenager around him, and that no matter where you were in life, seeing him was enough to make your dull heart race.
His uniform still fits him okay, although itâs impossible not to notice how his arms and thighs strain against the fabric now, sleeves not quite reaching his wrists. Try hard as you might, your eyes drift to the way his button-up clings to his chest, and itâs clear he isnât oblivious to it. You swallow as you walk towards him, hands coming up to fix his tie like itâs second nature. âSeriously, Yun,â you mutter. âIt was cute when you were seventeen, but at twenty-eight, really?â
He only smirks down at you, making you more flustered than you already wereâand it doesnât help when everyone in the room oohâs at your gesture. You take a step back, but the damage has been done. Itâs like youâre in high school again, rolling your eyes at your friends when they ask if you and Jaeyun are finally dating, pretending like the mere thought doesnât have butterflies erupting in your stomach.Â
âI remember how Y/N used to fix his tie in front of the school gates every morning,â Chaewon says loudly, and you glare at her. âShe said she didnât want him to get scolded by teachers.â Everyone erupts in a chorus of so cute and I canât believe theyâre still not together and Iâm sure they used to have a crush on each other. She looks happy with herself, blissfully unaware of the chaos sheâs created for youâitâs been hard enough acting normally around Jaeyun this morning, you donât need the added spotlight.
He doesnât seem to share that sentiment, though. When he speaks, his voice cuts through the chatter. âMy dad taught me how to tie a tie before middle school. But I was running late once and she fixed it for me. I always messed it up on purpose after that.â He turns to you. Your jaw is slack, your heart a wild, frantic mess. âGuess that trick still works.â
This really is high school all over again. Your classmates act like theyâve witnessed the revelation of the century, cheering and clapping, the boys clasping Jaeyunâs shoulder like he just scored the winning goal. Chaewon squeals. Yunjin pretends to faint. Youâre rooted to your spot, too bewildered to react.
âSo you really did like her back then, didnât you?â Jeno asks, and everyone stops talking, awaiting Jaeyunâs answer with what seems like bated breathâyou included, as though he didnât tell you all about it last night.
He shrugs, but his grin, sheepish and bright at once, says it all. âIâll let you guys come to your own conclusions.â When he turns to look at you, despite the fact that you want to strangle him for putting you on the spot like this, you canât deny that his confession is a little bit â just a little bit â adorable. You think of fifteen-year-old Jaeyun looking at himself in the mirror, proud of himself for putting on his tie wrong, and you canât help but smile. Of course, this only makes your friends crazier, but Jaeyun, as if heâs suddenly decided this was enough attention, says, âIs everyone ready? Letâs head out now.â
Chaewon instructs you all to meet in your high school parking lot. On the drive over, Jaeyun apologizes, asking if what he did was too much.
âItâs okay,â you tell him. âEven if I was a little embarrassed.â
âI wasnât planning on doing anything like it, but seeing you in your uniform brought back memories, I guess,â he says, bashful. âI did say I would remind you of what I told you last night, didnât I?â
You shrug, smile down at your hands. âYou did. But itâs not like Iâd forgotten.â
He doesnât answer right awayâbut then, he suddenly looks over at you, and says, âYouâre really pretty.â
Your stomach flips. You look down at yourself to avoid his gaze as heat creeps up your face. âWhat are you sayingâŠâ you mutter.
âI never told you properly when we were in high school. So Iâm telling you now. I always thought you were the prettiest, Y/N.â
You fight it hard, but you canât bite back your smile. All you can do is hide your grin behind your fist, resting your elbow on the sill of the open window as you turn away from him. For only a brief second, as if spurred on by the confidence his compliment gave you, you change your mindâyou turn to him and abruptly say, âAnd I always thought you were the most handsome.â Then you whip back to the window and grin at the trees lining the road. But you feel his eyes on you, and when you look back at him, heâs staring at you, mouth agape. âYun! Look at the road!â you chide, laughing.
âSorry, sorry!â he exclaims, taking his eyes off you. âButâYouâSeriously?â
You canât believe it, how incredulous he sounds, how he seems as surprised as you felt last night. As you still feel now. âOf course,â you say quietly, feeling shy again.Â
Heâs quiet for a few seconds. Then, âSeriously?!â he repeats, louder, almost yelling.
âRelax,â you say, laughing at his enthusiasm. âItâs not like I was the only one. Half the girls in our class had a crush on you.â
âDid they?â he asks, a shit-eating grin on his lips. You roll your eyes.
âYou only received love letters, like, once a month.â
âBut never from the person I wanted to receive one from.â
You hold his gaze for a second. Then another, and anotherâbut you canât handle more than that. The way he looks at you, you feel too seen. Like he can read your every thought, like he can see your heart beating through your chest, your breath making its shaky way up your throat. It makes you too vulnerable, makes your desire to soak in his affection, to let him keep talking to you like this, too strong. Itâs a feeling too unfamiliar for you to accept yet.
You return to your spot, turned away from him, elbow on the windowsill. âWhatever,â you mumble.
But it seems like you admitting to having found him handsome when you were teenagers is all the confirmation he needs. Throughout the rest of the afternoon, he sticks close to your side. Since school is out for the summer, Chaewon asked Yunjin to convince her higher-ups to let your group have a ten-year high school reunion there. They agreed and got one of the janitors to act as your supervisor, as if you would damage or steal school property. In any case, he follows you around quietly while you and your classmates roam the old, familiar walls, reminiscing about all the stupid things you did, the gossip that felt like the most important thing in your lives at the time, the teachers you hated, the upperclassmen you crushed on. Mostly, you take loads and loads of pictures, reenacting memories, huddling together in front of the classroom door of your final year. Jaeyun always finds himself right behind you in the group pictures, his taller frame so close to yours you can feel his warmth.
He rests his hand on your shoulder for one of the photos, and your brain short-circuits at a touch that you wouldnât have thought about twice as a teenager. Sure, back then, Jaeyunâs touch made you feel giddy, but it was also the most natural thing in the world. Linking arms on the way home from school. Your head on his shoulder during a long bus ride. His fingers in your hair when you let him play around with it. He always said it was practice for his future daughter: âI want her to have the prettiest hairstyles in all of her school,â heâd say, as if she was already here. And youâd think to yourself, Heâll make such a great dad. And although he was someone you could tell anything to, for reasons you didnât like to think too much about at that time, this was something you kept to yourself. Now, you can hardly breathe from a hand on your shoulder. But now, you can also finally admit to yourself why that is.
And with every passing moment, every smile shared, every delicate touch of his hand to your arm, of your fingers brushing against each other, you think that maybe, just maybe, you might finally be able to admit to him why that is.
A while later, when everyone parts ways, heading home to get a few hours of rest before the big day tomorrow, Jaeyun asks you if you can hang back for a bit. Heâs so cute about it, so much like a schoolboy asking his crush out, that you canât turn him down despite the sleep you desperately need.
The soccer field by your school is surprisingly unoccupiedâeven at this time of year, when the school hallways are empty, there are usually teenagers playing here. You yourself used to spend entire afternoons here, chatting with Chaewon while the boys played soccer under the blazing sun. You remember pretending you werenât engrossed in the sweat beading on Jakeâs forehead or the way his cheeks turned crimson with the effort, and cheering for him whenever he scored a goal and turned towards you, yelling out âDid you see that?!â with that puppyish grin on his lips.
You remember the nights you spent here as well, the last summer before you left, when you and your friends wanted to drink without the adults seeing. Youâd lay side-by-side, looking up at the stars as you shared your dreams and fears for the future. If Jaeyunâs hand brushed against yours, youâd wait a few seconds, then move your hand to rest on your chest instead. You always wondered if he noticed it, the small touch, its removal. You know your hand burned with both.Â
He leads you to the soccer field now, his hand warm and gentle in yours, like heâs scared holding on too tight will scare you off. Heâs silent for a while, quietly bringing you down with him until youâre laying on the grass togetherâthis time, you keep his hand preciously in yours, even as your palms turn clammy, even as the memories of being here like this flood in.
The summer breeze has nearly lulled you to sleep when he speaks, his voice soft, careful not to startle you. âI hated the last day of school.â
You turn your head to look at him, but he keeps his eyes trained on the blue sky above. âOf course you did. You were such a nerd, you wouldâve stayed in school forever if you couldâve.â
He smiles, but he shakes his head. âNo, thatâs not it.â His tone is calm, full of significance, which you feel even more when he rests his steady gaze on yours. âIt meant time was running out. It meant Iâd spent five years liking you and still hadnât had the balls to tell you.â
You gulp. Youâre suddenly not in the mood to tease him at all. âOh,â is all you can manage to say.
He laughsâclearly, seeing you flustered is amusing to him. âYeah.â He props himself up on his elbow, gazing down at you in a way that sends your heart into a frenzy. âI got a little carried away last night,â he starts. âWhen Chaewon told me about her plans to dress in our school clothes and come here â yes, she told me before everyone else, donât look at me like that â Iâd planned to tell you today, I had a whole thing written out, but last night, you⊠I donât know, you were drunk so maybe I shouldnât have put so much weight to your words, but it sounded like you might like me back? And I couldnât stop myself. I had to tell you immediately. And today⊠Iâm not mistaken, right? You do like me?â
Tears prickle at your eyes. To think that this has been on his mind for so long, that youâre the reason behind the worried look on his face, that heâs the one asking for your confirmationâyou can hardly make sense of it all. If only youâd looked closer, if youâd been less scared, you mightâve been wearing this exact same outfit, laying in this exact same place, ten years earlier. This isnât to say that you arenât scared anymoreâyouâre terrified out of your wits. But looking into Jaeyunâs face, you donât need to search very long to find reassurance.
âI do, Yun. I really, really do.â
He only stares back at you for a few beats, as if waiting for you to change your mind, to tell him youâre joking. When you donât, his mouth breaks into a wide, radiant smile, and he lets himself fall on his back, hands coming up to hide his face.Â
Suddenly, you realize how real this is. How genuine Jaeyun is. It isnât a cruel prank heâs decided to play on you, but the truth of what he feels for you. For what must be the first time since last night, you let yourself react the way any sane person would upon finding out the person theyâve loved for years loves them back: youâre happy. Unbelievably, indescribably happy. And itâs terrifying when you know this happiness might be ripped from your hands at any momentâbut youâll worry about that later. Right now, all you see is the man laying next to you, his smile full of light, his sweet, glimmering eyes. A small tear escapes your eye at the same time as a chuckle leaves your throat.
He returns to his previous position, grinning down at you while he rests his upper body on his elbow. âOkay, this is totally cool. Iâm not freaking out at all,â he says, making you laugh. His smile widens. He picks a daisy from the ground, reaches for your hand. Tying the stem around your ring finger, he says, âI wanted to tell you this today, in our school uniforms, as a way to get justice for my teenager self. I know itâs silly, but I feel like Iâm only able to do this because he liked you so much.âÂ
But it isnât silly at all. Itâs the nicest, most romantic thing anyone has ever done for you.
He takes a deep breath, looks up from where your hand rests in his, to your eyes. âI love you, Y/N. Iâm sorry it took me so long to tell you. And I canât explain to you how happy I am that I still have a chance after all this time.â
Itâs not a singular tear rolling down your face anymore, itâs the whole waterworks threatening to explode the longer Jaeyun looks at you with those eyes, so tender and full of affection. You roll onto your side, resting your forehead against his shoulder so he canât see your faceâitâs enough that he can hear your sniffling, that he can feel your shoulders shake against him, especially as he wraps an arm around your waist to bring you closer. Your feelings overwhelm youâyou want to cry, to laugh, to hold him as tight as you can, to run away and stop him from witnessing how vulnerable he makes you. With his free hand, he pets your hair, saying he hopes these are happy tears.
âTheyâre very, very happy tears,â you reply between sobs. You probably sound ridiculous, but Jaeyun doesnât seem to mind, holding you through it all.
âGood,â he whispers.
Itâs a shame that it took you this long to realize you forgot something you shouldnât ever haveâthat people are the most important. Not relying on the ones you love doesnât make you strong, it makes you a fool.Â
Jaeyunâs presence is reassuring, familiar, and you picture a life in which you lean on his shoulder and cry when you need to. In which you hold him tight and share every moment with him, not just the happy ones. It sounds so much better than what youâve been doing for the past ten years. He smiles at you, and youâre flooded with the relief and gratitude that this is the life he wants, too.
For a while, he just holds you, the sun shining down on your bodies. This is what you were so fearful ofâJaeyunâs familiar scent enveloping you, his hand rubbing reassuring circles against your back, his hair soft in your hands. Eventually, he says, voice just loud enough for you to hear, âLater, will you talk to me? Will you tell me why you drifted from me?âÂ
Thereâs no anger in his tone, no admonition. Guilt still pangs in your stomach, but thatâs only because you know how badly he deserves an explanation, and because youâre amazed that even now, heâs so patient and understanding with you. âI will,â you reply.
You donât know how long you stay there, laughing at Jaeyunâs anecdotes of all the ways he tried to show you he liked you. All the times he ran home in the rain because you didnât bring an umbrella, all the fish cakes he sacrificed because they were your favorite part of tteokbokki, all the pocket money he spent on your favorite snacks.Â
âI thought about you so often once you left,â he says. âI worried so much. If you were eating well, if you were making new friends at university. Then if your job was treating you well. I wanted to call you all the time, but I didnât want to annoy you. I thought you were moving on, and that maybe I should too. But I never was able to.â
Youâre a little bashful as you tell him that you never did, either. âI compared all the guys I dated to you. And they were never as nice, as thoughtful, asââ
âAs handsome, as smart, as amazing as me, I get it, donât worry,â he teases, and you swat his shoulder lightly.Â
âObviously, but you donât need to be so smug about it.â
âIf youâre going to tell me none of your little boyfriends measured up to me, of course Iâm going to be smug about it, are you kidding me? This is the best news Iâve received in my life.â
You only realize how long youâve been lying there when your phone dings with a text from your aunt, asking whether youâll be home for dinner. Itâs almost seven p.m. alreadyâthe two of you spent three hours, just talking and laughing. He pouts a little when you tell him you should head home, but he obliges anyway.
When he drops you off at your auntâs house, he comes out of the car with you and hugs you tightly before you head inside. âThank you for this afternoon. Iâll see you tomorrow, yeah?â he says, lips moving against your hair.
You nod and, with a quick peck to his cheek, you bolt for your front door before he can react and try to do something crazy, like properly kiss you.
âWait, before you go,â he says as you grab the door handle. Turning around to look at him, breath catches, thinking heâs going to tell you something important, yet another thing that will change your lifeââCan you tell me about those lame dudes you dated again?â
You roll your eyes, biting back a smile. âGoodbye, Jaeyun.â
âYou love me!â
You smile at him, wide and unabashed.Â
Because you do love him. You really, really do.
.
.
You plop yourself on the couch next to your aunt, the latest Drag Race season playing on the TV. She hands you the bag of caramel popcorn and you grab a handful.Â
âI heard a car,â she says. âDid Jaeyun drop you off? Is that why youâre smiling so much?â
You only now notice the ache in your cheeks. âIâm not smiling that much,â you say, forcing your features into humorlessness, but the corners of your lips keep rising of their own volition.
âYouâre smiling a lot. More than you already usually do with him,â she says, giving you a knowing look.
You gape at her. âDonât tell me you knew too?â
âKnew what? That you and Jaeyun have liked each other since you were teenagers? I mightâve had an inkling, yeah.â
Her grin is wicked as you bury your face in your hands, groaning. âSo it really was everyone but him and me.â
âI think you knew,â she says, her tone gentle. âBut you didnât want to admit it to yourself. Especially in the last few months before you left, youâd always get a look about your face when I mentioned him. You never wanted to say you were sad to be leaving, but it was clear you were, if only because of him.â
You frown. âI was sad to leave you, too. And Chaewon, and Yunjin. And Mrs. Kim, because I knew I wouldnât find better tteokbokki anywhere else.â
She shrugs. âSure. But you were sad to leave Jaeyun in particular.â
You fidget with your hands, letting her words sink in. âAnd I have to leave him again in two days,â you whisper.
She wraps an arm around your shoulder, squeezes it slightly. âBut itâll be different this time around, right?â
DIfferent. Youâll call. Youâll make plans for him to come. Youâll let him into your life, into your heart. Youâll let him break down your walls, brick by brick.
âYeah. It will,â you say quietly, willing your worries to dissipate.
You meet her gaze, and she smiles. Jaeyun is only one of the many people youâve kept at bay for too long now.
âCome on,â she says, getting up from the couch. âIâm making meatball pasta, your favorite.â
âItâs your favorite.â
It was one of the few meals she made on rotation whenever she had time to cookâit is your favorite, only because eating it meant you were spending the evening together. You cut vegetables while she seasons the meat, telling each other about your day. Maybe itâs because youâre in such a wonderful mood from your afternoon with Jaeyun, but the atmosphere between the two of you feels particularly light-hearted today, which is why youâre so surprised when she suddenly tells you you should talk about âwhat happened last time.â Your stomach clenches, but you nodâyou knew it was going to happen sooner or later, so you might as well get over it quickly, and she seems to be of the same opinion.
âI know weâre both bad at this, so Iâll keep it short,â she starts, keeping her eyes on the preparation. You really are cut from the same clothâyou continue chopping carrots, glad to have something to do with your hands. âIâm sorry about those things I said. It was an emotional time for both of us, what with Jaeyunâs grandmother and all, but I shouldnât have let my emotions get the best of me. Itâs my fault we never talked about your parents. About your mom. I know you wouldâve liked to, but I never could. And you do remind me of her. Gosh, you look so much like her at your age. But you canât do anything about that, and what I said about looking at you and seeing her, that wasnât fair. It sounded like I blamed you, which is the last thing I wanted to do.
âShe always took care of me, because she was older than me by so many years, you know. She called herself my second mom. And all of a sudden, it felt like I had to take care of her. Itâs ironic, since my literal job is to take care of people, but I didnât know how to, with you.â
âI didnât make it easy. I barely talked to you,â you say quietly. Itâs true that you canât expect the same maturity from a teenager and a young adult, but thinking back on it, you canât help but think you couldâve been softer on your aunt. More understanding. You wanted her to replace your parents while resenting her for it. You made no effort at communication yet pushed her away every time she made an attempt to talk to you.
âYou were so young, and dealing with all that loss. I shouldâve tried harder, but you seemed so independent, spending all that time with your friends, making yourself dinner when I wasnât home. It felt like you didnât need me, and I have to admit, I was relieved. I was hanging on by a thread. I didnât know how I could take care of a whole other human being.â
Your breathing is shallow. You spent so many years struggling, each of you in your little corner, at armâs length from each other but too scared to reach out a hand.
âIt felt like you didnât want me around,â you whisper, head hanging low.Â
âOh, honey.â She drops her spoon and in a second has you wrapped in her arms, the tightest hug sheâs ever given you, tighter than when you first arrived at her house, tighter than when you first left. âIâm so, so sorry. I was so glad to have you here. Sure, it was a reminder that Iâd lost my sister, but you were a reason to keep going. I had to go to work so you could eat. I had to stay healthy enough to work. You were the only person on this planet that needed me. Iâm sorry I didnât do a better job of it, and that I didnât show you how much I needed you. How much I love you. But I promise that I never, ever wished you werenât with me.â
Itâs impossible to keep the tears at bay at this point. Tears start pouring down your face, and at the sight, her own tears quickly follow suitâyou sob in each other's arms, apologizing over and over again, and by the time youâre done, the meatballs are overcooked and yet the best youâve ever had.
Between Jaeyun this afternoon, and your aunt this evening, today has been a whirlwind of emotionsâwith Chaewonâs wedding tomorrow, youâll probably be drained on your flight back to the city. You have half a mind to take Monday off, just so you can rest from your holiday.Â
For now, youâll rest from today. Youâre exhausted, but it takes a while for sleep to claim youâyour mind is reeling, replaying Jaeyunâs words, the unspoken promises they contain. Your heart is still swelling with hope when you finally fall asleep.
.
.
It takes a few seconds for yesterdayâs events to come back to you after you wake up. It feels like reliving them all over againâJaeyunâs face next to yours on the soccer field, his hand in yours on the drive home, the conversation with your aunt that feels like one of many steps towards the right direction. And to think you dreaded this weekend for months before coming here.
When Jaeyun pulls up in front of your auntâs house, sheâs quicker than either of you, opening the door before heâs even reached it and inviting him in for coffee. You make a quick mental note of his outfit, a matching dark green suit and vest with a white button-up that fit him a little too well, the veins that run along his forearms down to his hands prominent and a debilitating sight if youâve ever seen one. Out of concern for your well-being you put that image immediately out of your headâyou really donât need to know how attractive Jaeyunâs hands are.
While youâre trying to gather yourself, with a wide smile, your aunt stares at him sipping his drink, eyes darting around the room awkwardly. Heâs always been a little nervous around her, which confused you back then, but endears you nowâbefore every party he picked you up for, heâd be overly polite, assuring her heâd get you home early and safe, standing with his back straight in your hallway as he waited for you like someone trying to impress their girlfriendâs father. Sheâd wave him off, telling you you could come home shit-faced at three a.m. as long as you were with âthis guy.â
Itâs so obvious that sheâs over-the-moon about him being her nephew-in-law. When he clears his throat, saying, âIâll take good care of Y/N, I hope you can trust me,â like this is the seventies and he needs to ask her for your hand, she laughs in his face.
âOh, Iâm not worried about you. Itâs her Iâm worried about.â
âAuntie?â
She ignores you, slides her elbows on the table towards Jaeyun in a conspiratorial manner. âListen. She can be very grumpy in the morningââ
âAuntie?!â
âAnd she overthinks everything, even if sheâll never let you know about it. She gets all these crazy ideas about people in her head, so just make sure to talk to her a lot so you know whatâs going on up there. Even if you have to force her.â
Youâre glaring at her by the time sheâs done, but Jaeyunâs delighted. âThank you for the advice. Iâll make sure to remember it.â
âGood. Now, off you two go. Iâll meet you tonight for the party,â she says with one last wink at you, unfazed by your I-will-murder-you expression as she gets up to put the empty mugs in the sink.
In the car, Jaeyun breaks the silence first. âSo, grumpy in the morning, huh?â
âOh my God,â you mutter, bringing a hand to your temple like your head aches. âI liked it better when you were terrified of her.â
Jaeyun laughs, reaching for your hand and resting it on your lap. âItâs okay. Iâll cheer you up every morning like my life depends on it.â You purse your lips to stop them from curving into a smile. It doesnât work. âPlus, I canât imagine youâd be grumpy waking up to this,â he says, pointing to his face.
You roll your eyes. âDonât be so sure of yourself,â you say as though you donât agree with himâseeing him first thing in the morning would surely do wonders for your mood, not just when you wake up, but for the entire day.
You know heâs only teasing you, but you have an unexpected problem to deal with now: thoughts of waking up to Sim Jaeyun, thoughts of being in a bed with Sim Jaeyun, thoughts of what usually happens when two people who love each other share a bed. You gulp. When you look over at him, thereâs only a serene smile on his lips. One day in, and youâre already getting carried away. Heâs probably not even thinking about such things, and you feel guilty about the dull ache in your stomach created by the pictures that your brain is conjuring.
When you arrive at the town hall, youâre greeted by your old friends, standing on the steps in their best clothes. The weather is perfect, the sun shining down warmly but a small breeze stops you from sweating your clothes off. Chaewon and Jaemin decided against staying cooped up in a small room before the ceremonyâthey thought itâd be much nicer to be there to greet their guests, and that getting to be around each other would prevent any last-minute nerves.
A little before eleven, Chaewonâs sister and Jaeminâs siblings, as the bridesmaids and groomsmen, start ushering everyone in. Once youâre seated inside and waiting for the ceremony to start, Jaeyun leans down towards you, and, quietly enough so only you hear him, whispers, âShould we hijack their wedding? They havenât been waiting as long as I have.â
You gasp at his words, lightly swatting his chest while he only grins at you, clearly satisfied with your reaction.
âIâm just kidding,â he says. âThis isnât how Iâm planning on proposing.â
âPlanning onâSim Jaeyun, be serious for a second.â
âWhat?â he asks, feigning an innocent tone even as mischief stays written on his features. âIâm very serious about propoââ
Who knows how his sentence ends, because his words are muffled by the hand you put over his mouth.
The ceremony is beautiful, presided over by Chaewonâs dad, who says that in all his years as mayor of Gimcheon, there isnât a marriage heâs been happier to officiate than todayâs. As Chaewon recites her vows, all you can see is your best friend at fifteen, crying because her favorite idol was embroiled in a dating scandal; at seventeen, making vision boards out of her momâs old wedding magazines; at twenty-two, giggling on the phone because, âDid you know Na Jaemin has had a serious glow-up since high school?â
At twenty-five, telling you she hopes youâll find the person who makes you as happy as Jaemin makes her.Â
Jaeyunâs hand stays in yours the entire time. You feel him glancing over you a few times, but youâre too scared that if you meet his eyes, youâll break down crying, and youâve done enough of that to last you a few weeks.
There are many pictures to be taken outside of the town hall, plus the bouquet toss â when Giselle catches it, Jenoâs face turns crimson â so itâs a while before you can all start heading to the cottage that Chaewonâs and Jaeminâs family have rented out for the occasion, for extended family and friends who couldnât be lodged at someoneâs house to stay in. For lunch, the caterer has prepared a large cold buffet with everything from thin slices of meat to charcuterie boards and three types of potato salad.
Itâs a really idyllic place theyâve chosen, especially in the middle of Julyâthe flowers are in full bloom, climbing cream and pink roses spilling over metal trellises, the scent of lavender bushes wafting delicately through the air. Chairs and tables covered in white drapes are neatly set around the garden and huge ribbons made of alabaster-colored gaze decorate a large oak tree.Â
You know from a phone call with Chaewon that as hands-on as she was with the wedding preparations, there was one thing that hadnât been up to her to organizeâthe afternoon activity, between lunch with family and close friends and dinner with a larger number of guests. Jaeminâs sisters had told her theyâd take care of it. âBut theyâre the kind of people who give people missions to do at parties,â she complained. âI once had to win at rock-paper-scissors with three total strangers.â
âBut no oneâs forcing you to participate,â you said.
âIt was a question of pride,â she replied, firm. âI had to make a good impression.â
You can see the relief flood over Chaewonâs features when they announce that theyâve planned a scavenger hunt for this afternoon, and that those who donât wish to partake can hang back and have a rest. The groups are assigned randomly, so youâre separated from Jaeyun, but your teammates are friendlyâJaeminâs great-aunt and Chaewon seven-year-old little cousin make for a surprisingly comedic duo, and you and Giselle, who you can confirm once and for all is much cooler than her boyfriend Jeno, spend the whole time cracking up at their antics.
Jaeminâs sisters have created a list of clues to guide you to different places around the venue, where you need to complete little tasksâeach team starts out with a different clue, and is guided around by the new clues they find at each spot. In the guest book by the entrance, you each describe a memory you share with the bride or groom; by the lily pond, the four of you take a polaroid picture as a keepsake for the newlyweds; behind the bar, thereâs a corkboard on which you can tack heart-shaped pieces of paper and write down your predictions for their marriage. You write down that theyâll have 3 under 3, and Chaewonâs cousin writes that theyâll get to drink milkshakes for breakfastâwhen you ask him what thatâs about, he says that his mom said only adults are allowed milkshakes for breakfast, âand adults are usually married, so maybe thatâs what theyâll do.â
You arrive in fifth place, so you only win a piece of candy eachâbut when you find Jaeyun again, he tells you gloatingly that heâll share his third-place box of chocolates with you. Slowly after that, more guests start arriving, including your aunt. The main room opens up, and you see just how much effort Chaewon has put into all of thisâitâs straight from her Pinterest board, with white roses in the center of every table, tulle curtains draped over the windows, and fairy lights adorning the walls. Candied almonds in small white bags, with a tag that reads C+J, rest on every plate as gifts for the guests. The cottage was the perfect choice for the reception, with its wooden panels that contrast against the cream-colored decorations. Theyâve hired Beomgyu, an old high school friend of yours, as their DJ, and for now, as heâs setting up his station, a relaxed R&B playlist drifts quietly through the speakers.
Youâre seated between Yunjin and Jaeyun. You mingle at first, champagne glass in hand as you catch up with Chaewonâs mom, at whose house you spent so many of your teenage hours. She has stars in her eyes, telling you how happy she is for your daughter, and when she asks whether thereâs a lucky man in your life, you canât help but glance at Jaeyun, whoâs talking with Mrs. Lee, one of his old elementary school teachers, Chaewonâs colleague now. She follows your gaze and exclaims in delight. âChaewon always said you two would end up together! Well, better late than never,â she says with a wink. Someone calls her name then, and youâre left to process her words.
Considering Yunjin and your aunt had you figured it out, it isnât so surprising that Chaewon wouldâve long been aware of your and Jaeyunâs feelings for each otherâwhatâs taking you aback is the fact she never said anything. She teased you just as much as your classmates did, and she did ask you a couple of times if you really didnât feel anything for him (which you always adamantly declined, and you understand now that that mustâve only made her only more suspicious of you), but she never pushed any further. Her words from a few days earlier suddenly come back to youââI promise you someone is out there. Maybe closer than you think.â
You make a mental note to find a minute alone with her tonight, and congratulate her for being much smarter and perceptive than you ever were.
The appetizers start rolling outâJaeyun is still so engrossed in his conversation with Mrs. Lee that you go ahead and make him a plate with a little bit of everything. When you hand it to him, he looks at you like youâve just handed him a million bucks. After you go back to your seat, you often feel him or Mrs. Lee glancing your way, and you have an inkling of what they might be talking about.
Before the main course, the parents give their speeches togetherâJaeminâs share embarrassing anecdotes of their son and thank Chaewon for taking him off their hands; Chaewonâs mom is so emotional throughout her speech that her husband has to take over her parts.Â
The atmosphere at your table during dinner is great, and itâs very entertaining to see the champagne start to get to everyoneâs headsâyouâve only had a couple glasses, and Jaeyun is driving later, so youâre both sober watching your friends exaggerate everything they say and laugh over nothing much. When youâre done eating, his hand often finds yours underneath the table, and it never fails to make your insides feel pleasantly warm.Â
After dinner, the music suddenly shuts off for a few seconds, before Canât Help Falling In Love by Elvis Presley, the song for Chaewonâs parentsâ first dance at their own wedding, which she wanted to turn into a tradition. Everyone watches the couple gently swaying around the dance floor. They look at each other as though they are the only people in this entire room; on this entire planet. After a minute, other couples start joining them; when Jaeyun stands up and offers you his hand, you donât even hesitate for a second.
You feel a little shy, standing before him and looking into his eyes, so you rest your head on his chest instead, letting him hold you close to him and guide you around the dance floor, one arm around your waist, holding your hand in his free one.
âThank you for waiting for me,â you say, lifting your face a little so he can hear you.
He bends down towards you, his lips grazing your forehead as he speaks. âThank you, too, angel.â The nickname is unexpected, and makes your heart skip a beat. When he presses his lips to the top of your head, you think that if this wasnât your best friendâs wedding, you might be debating the ethics of leaving before dessertâs been served. âI promise Iâll make you happy,â he whispers.
âYou already are.â You wish you could live in the way he gazes down at you, eyes warm and full of adoration. âYou make me feel like a teenager. Like Iâm still the sixteen-year-old who got giddy at the thought of seeing you at school every morning.â
âIs that right?â he asks, smile turning a little smug. You like nervous, bashful Jaeyun betterâthis Jaeyun, the intensity of his gaze as it trails down your face until it reaches your lips, the feeling of his thumb roving across your waist, makes you want to curl up and hide your face in the crook of his neck. He makes your knees weak and your breath shaky.
You stop yourself from looking away, eyes set on his as you nod your head.
âThatâs funny, because Iâm very aware that weâre not teenagers anymore,â he says.
You donât ask what he means by that, and he doesnât offer an explanation, so youâre left to ponder his words on your ownâalthough the tone with which he spoke, teasing and enticing, canât leave you with much room for interpretation.
But just as your eyes drift down to his lips, and you swear he leans a fraction of the way in, the song is over. You step back from him a second after every couple has separated, turning towards the newlyweds and clapping for them.Â
Itâs back to 2010s pop after that, and he doesnât let you go back to your seatâthe rest of your friends quickly join you anyway, and even you canât say no to jumping around and screaming the lyrics when itâs Lady Gaga and Black Eyed Peas playing. Jaeyun makes you spin around, his hands firm on your hips during more sensual songs, his worst (or best, if you ask him) moves on display whenever a song calls for it, and you canât stop laughing.Â
You need a large drink of water eventually, and take the opportunity to look for Chaewon. You find her at the dessert buffet, stacking mini brownies on her plate. She looks startled when you call her name. âThese arenât all for me,â she says quickly.
âIâm not judging,â you say, smiling.
âOkay, good, âcause theyâre definitely all for me. I barely ate all night âcause I was so nervous and Iâm famished now.â
You laugh and get a plate, filling it with more food for her before leading her to your presently unoccupied table. âThank you,â she says with an exaggerated sigh as she plops down on Yunjinâs chair. âI love my family, but theyâve been taking up all of my attention. I just wanna come dance with you guys.â
âWeâll join them in a bit. Can I just tell you something first?â
She tilts her head at you, her smile like she already knows what youâre about to say. âOf course. And,â she says, taking your hands in hers, âIâve got something to ask you, too. But you go first.â
You surprise yourself with how easily the words come to youâno hesitation over how to phrase it, no nervousness. They feel so natural, rolling off your tongue. âMe and Jaeyun are together.â
She squeals, immediately throwing her arms around you. âI knew it! Finally! It took you guys so long, I was so close to intervening and playing Cupid myself. Oh, Y/N!â she exclaims, bringing you into another hug, not letting you place a word. âLove is in the air. You know, I think knowing Jae and I were getting married mightâve been the trigger for Jaeyun. When he told me he wanted to confess to you over this weekend, I was ecstatic. You can basically thank me for having a boyfriend.â
You laugh. âThank you, Chaewon. Youâve known all along, havenât you?âÂ
She nods proudly. âIt was always so obvious. Jaeyun told me a few months after high school ended, but youââ She points an accusing finger at you. âYou never did! But you tried too hard to pretend like you were indifferent when I mentioned him on the phone.â
You look down at the floor, feeling a little guilty, a little shy. âI could barely admit it to myself, let alone to anyone else. And I was so, so scared, Chae. Even nowâŠâ You look longingly over at the dance floor, where Jaeyun is clearly having the time of his life, throwing his limbs around with Heeseung and Jenoâwhen he meets your eyes, he waves happily, then returns to what seems to be an attempt at the robot. You sigh. âItâs not like I change my ways overnight, can I? Being so far from him, I donât knowâŠâ
âDonât think about that right now,â Chaewon says, commanding your attention back to her. âJust enjoy it. Itâs what both of you deserve. When you run into a problem, youâll figure it out together. Heâs waited this long, I promise you itâs not a little distance thatâll drive him away now.â
You nod. âOkay. Youâre right.â
âOf course I am. Now, I have some news to share too. And itâs our secret, okay?â
Excited, you shift forward on your chair, inching closer to her. âOkay.â
She gazes downward with a smile, lets go of one of your hands to rest on her stomach. Your mouth falls open, and when she looks back up at you, her eyes shiny, you immediately feel yours start to burn. âIf you say yes, Y/N, youâll be a godmother soon.â
âOh my God, Chae,â you whisper, tears already pooling in your eyes.
She giggles. âJaeyunâs already agreed to be the godfather, so it only makes more sense now, doesnât it? And yes, before you ask, Iâm absolutely using my unborn child as emotional blackmail to get you to call and visit more often. And Iâll be coming to see you in the city and make you take me around cute baby shops and buy me all the food I want.
âOh my God, Chae. Youâre having a whole baby,â you whisper, incredulous. Your heads lean in towards each other, almost bumping as you laugh.
âI know, right? We wanted to wait until our honeymoon was over to start trying, but⊠Well, Iâll spare you the details, but weâve never gone at it so much since getting engagedââ
âAlright.â
âSo, what do you say?â she asks, a hopeful expression on her face.
You squeeze her hands. âHow could I say anything but yes? Of course Iâll be your kidâs godmother. Iâm so honored that youâre asking me, when I havenât been an ideal friend.â
She shakes her head. âDonât. We understand you, Y/N, more than I think you give us credit for. And I trust you to make up for it now, okay?â
You nod, tears freely streaming down your cheeks now. âI will. I absolutely will. I love you so much, Chae. Iâm so happy for you.â
Her laugh is the prettiest sound to your ears. âI love you too, Y/N.â
She leans back, takes a deep breath as she wipes her tears. âIs my makeup okay?â When you nod, she gets up and says, âOkay. To the dance floor!â
Now that theyâve gone through every step and are reassured that their wedding couldnât have gone more smoothly, Jaemin and Chaewon let it all out on the dance floor. What starts out as a pretty big crowd, a large portion of the guests up and dancing, fizzles out as the hour grows late. The more elderly relatives have long retired, and it isnât long before the older adults leave, too, finding their children asleep on random chairs and dragging them out of the venue. Soon, the population on the dance floor is more or less constituted of your high school friends and Chaewonâs and Jaeminâs cousins of your age. When Beomgyu starts to play slower songs around the three a.m. mark, you canât believe itâs this late already. You were having so much fun you had no idea so much time had passed.
The catering crew has cleared the tables and packed away all their silver- and dinnerware, and your friends, in their drunken state, offer to wipe the floors and take the decorations down, but Chaewon and Jaemin shoo them off, assuring them that theyâll be taking care of it with their families in the morning.
You have to admit, now that the energyâs gone down, you start to feel yourself ready for bed, your feet aching from overuse, even though you took your high heels off hours ago to dance with more ease. It doesnât help that Jaeyun stays right behind you as everyone starts heading off, his hand low and casual on your hip as you wave them all goodbye and promise to stay in touch. He only hangs back when you have to say goodbye to Chaewonâyour flight is around noon tomorrow, so you wonât have time to see her again.
Hugging her tight, you tell her again how beautiful she looked tonight and how happy you are for her. You wish her and Jaemin a happy honeymoon, and she winks back, telling you to have fun, too. âBut safe fun!â she yells as you and Jaeyun start making your way to his car. âI love you but youâre not stealing my babyâs spotlight!â
Jaeyun is still laughing as he gets in the driverâs seat, while youâre flooded with embarrassment. âSo she told you, then?â he asks.
âYeah.â
âWeâre gonna be godparents,â he says, grinning. âSome might say weâre moving a little fast, but I think itâs right.â
Youâre smiling impossibly wide. âYouâre stupid.â
âAnd youâre pretty,â he replies, brushing his knuckle along your jaw. Itâs an innocent touch, but just like that, the dull ache in your stomach reappearsâmaybe itâs his proximity all night, all tension and no release, or the fact that itâs the two of you in pure darkness on this late night road, or Chaewonâs comment ringing in your head, but you suddenly find yourself craving for a lot more than an innocent touch. As though he can read your mind, Jaeyun clears his throat. âDo you, um, do you want to go back to mine?â he asks, eyes going back-and-forth between you and the road as though not wanting to miss your reaction.
âYeah,â you whisper. The air conditioning is on full blast, yet your skin is on fire. âYeah. Iâd like that.â
âOkay.â
Youâre silent for the rest of the car ride, mind racing with possibility. Jaeyunâs hand trembles ever so slightly in yours, like he can barely restrain himself, and you agree that the twenty minutes to his apartment are the longest youâve ever had to endure. You play with his fingers, hoping the gesture will be calming to both of you, but the feeling of his skin against yours only makes your heart race faster.
His apartment is on the first floor of a small building in the center of Gimcheon. He leads you up the stairs, fingers intertwined with yours, only letting go to open his door. âLayla will be excited to meet you,â he says as he turns the keyâindeed, youâre greeted warmly by the cream-colored Border Collie. She seems much happier to meet someone new than to see her boring old owner, who notices this with a frown, huffing something about âbetrayalâ and âyour own kidsâŠâ as Layla licks your hands and presents her belly for pets.
âI should probably walk her quickly, she hasnât been out since this morning,â Jaeyun says, an endeared smile on his face as he watches the two of you get acquainted.
âShould I come with?â
Crouching beside you, he shakes his head. âI know youâre tired, angel. Iâll just be ten minutes, you can wash up in the meantime.â
You follow him into the bathroom, where he hands you a towel and tells you to help yourself to anything you need. âWait here a minute,â he says, then disappears into his bedroom, coming back with clean clothes for you to wear. Heâs sheepish as he rests them on the sink counter, a small smile playing on his lips. âHere. They might be a bit big, but more comfortable than your dress.â
âThanks, Yun.â
âNo worries.â He hesitates for a second, then presses a quick kiss to your temple. âIâll be quick.â
Even after he leaves, the smile on your lips is wide and unwavering, your heartbeat fast, your fingers twitchy and impatient. You find lotion to wipe your makeup off with, and have far too much fun analyzing all of his shower products as the hot water runs over your body. You can hardly keep your giddiness in check at the thought of washing yourself with Jaeyunâs soap, drying yourself with his towel, then wearing his clothes and finding yourself enveloped with the delicate floral scent of his laundry detergent. He gave you a navy t-shirt with the logo of his familyâs business on the front and a pair of basketball shorts that reach your knees, and that you have to tie very tightly at your hips so it stays up. You canât help but admire yourself in the mirror, for some reason feeling more like a girlfriend than ever before in your life.
When you hear the front door open, you come out to meet him in his living room. As Layla trots over to her bed, he stops for a second when he sees you, mouth slightly agape as his eyes rake your body. You feel shy under his gaze, but surprise yourself by also revelling in the attention, in the way his desire is so evident in his gaze, in the smirk that grows on his lips as he crosses the distance to you.
âNice walk?â you ask.
âYeah. You look good,â he says, hands finding your hips, shameless in the way he looks down at you now.
In the shower, you were so preoccupied with simply being here that you didnât spare a thought for what would happen nextânow, under the intensity of Jaeyunâs gaze and the effect of his proximity, you feel unprepared, completely at a loss for what to do with yourself.
Itâs lucky for you that Jaeyun, on the other hand, seems to know exactly what he wants to do with you.
âCan I kiss you?â he asks, voice low and gravelly unlike youâve ever heard it before, and it sends shivers down your spines. You donât trust your voice to work properly, so you nod your assent instead.
Seconds pass like eternity between his question and the moment his lips actually touch your lips. One of his hands leaves your hips to find your chin instead, raising it a little with his thumb so your face is perfectly angled towards his. His touch is gentle, more of a request than a demand, and you crave to melt into it, to let him lead you wherever he wants you.
His lips meet yours, delicate and cautious, like he doesnât want to scare you off. They move languidly against each other, giving you the time you need to adapt to this without being overwhelmed. You raise your arms and wrap them around his neck while his hand sneaks its way to your lower back, pushing you gently closer towards him, your chest now flush to his. Fire courses through your veins as his tongue meets yours, deepening the kiss and making your thoughts hazy, incoherent, unimportant.
You never dreamed it would be this easy. One kiss, and itâs like a faucetâs opened up inside you, all the desire and want and longing that youâve kept trapped inside pouring out of you boundlessly. You wouldnât know how to control it if you had toâand thankfully, Jaeyun doesnât seem to want you to. He meets you right where you are, holding onto you just as tightly as you are onto him, moaning shamelessly when your fingers tug sharply at his hair, his head thrown back as you pepper his throat with wet, messy kisses.Â
His mouth doesnât leave yours as he walks you to his bedroom. Only when he sits down on his bed do you get a glimpse of his expressionâthe lust-blown pupils, the reddened cheeks, the lips plump and shiny with saliva. His hands are practically on your ass as he brings you down towards him, helping you into a straddling position on his lap. He presses kisses to your cheek, your jawline, then, resting his forehead against yours, asks with a throaty voice, âYouâre okay with this?â
You smile, wrap your arms tighter around his neck. âIâm definitely okay with this.â
âGood,â he replies, then wastes no time pressing his lips back to yours.
Years of repressed feelings come out in this kissâthat much is clear in its desperation, in the way you both grab onto whatever parts of the other you can reach, like you want to tether yourselves to each other. When you break apart for air, Jaeyun whispers in your ear how long heâs wanted to do this, lips brushing against your skin as he speaks, making you shake lightly in his hold. The longer you kiss, the weaker the resistance in your thighs grows, and you soon find yourself sitting right on his lap, his bulge hard and demanding attention beneath you. His grip on your hips tightens, but itâs the only sign he gives you of being affectedâonly when you roll your hips experimentally against his does he let out a loud moan right into your mouth, which you take as a green light to keep going.Â
You push him down onto the mattress, practically laying on top of him as you grind yourself against him, a small whimper leaving your throat every time his erection rubs perfectly against your clit through your shared layers of clothing. Heâs still wearing his wedding outfit, and when his hands leave your body to unbutton his shirt, you waste no time in helping him, untucking his shirt from his trousers, unbuckling his belt. He chuckles at your eagerness, but you canât bring yourself to feel even a little embarrassedâyou donât think youâve ever desired anything this badly, and itâs messing with your head. Jaeyun looks at you like he could eat you right up, so you decide thereâs no use in hiding your appetite from him.
His hands slip underneath your t-shirt, and your skin blazes with the heat of his touch. They trail up your sides, nails briefly grazing your waist and back before they find your breasts. He gently rubs one of your nipples between his fingers, and Jaeyun curses when you release a moan in the crook of his neck, pressing your crotch against his with more urgency than before. âDoes that feel good, baby?â he asks, voice breathy as you squirm under his touch.
âYes, Yun.â
He hums in satisfaction, one hand on your ass to guide your movements against him, the other alternating between your breasts to pay them equal attention, lips never relenting in their quest to leave no inch of your neck unkissed.Â
Itâs too much and too little at once. A familiar coil tightens in your stomach, and you canât believe youâre already this close to coming undone from thisâevery man youâve slept with before has had to put in a lot more work to get you even near the edge. But with Jaeyun, all it takes is a few minutes of heavy petting and his voice in your ears, telling you how well youâre doing for him, how pretty you look using him to get yourself off.
âThatâs it, baby,â he coos as your moans get louder, your movements more erratic. âIâve got you. Let it go for me.â Itâs all you need for your orgasm to wash over you and leave you a trembling mess in his arms, his hold around your waist tight as he kisses your temple and shushes you gently.Â
When youâve calmed down somewhat, he helps you onto your back, shifting so that your head rests on his pillows. Now that youâve regained your senses, the reality of what youâve done, what youâre doing hits you. Resting on his elbow, Jaeyun gazes down at you fondly, and although you wouldâve reveled in it mere moments ago, the intensity of his attention now only brings heat to your face. You canât quite meet his eyes, a small, bashful smile playing on your lips as you play with the lapels of shirt collar. He must sense this shift in your demeanor, and asks, âDo you wanna keep going?â
Lust pangs low in your stomach. You force yourself to look into his eyes, giving him an almost imperceptible nod. His desire is so obvious on him, and truth be told, you hadnât even thought you might stop here when he still needs taking care of. The smile on his lips grows, but when you reach out to touch his erection, he tilts his head, grabbing your wrist and laying it back down next to your body. âI didnât say I was done with you, baby,â he purrs, leaning down to kiss your neck, one hand slipping under your t-shirt again.Â
âButââ
âIâve waited so long, angel. Dreamed about having you like this so many times. So be patient and give me this much, hm?â
You release a shaky breath. How can you say no when he makes it sound like letting him make you feel good is doing him a favor, and not you? âOkay.â
âThank you, angel. Help me with this?â he asks gently, lifting his t-shirt youâre wearing over your head. Youâd feel shy at lying half-naked underneath him if it wasnât for the way he admired you, like an art lover in front of their favorite painting. âSo fucking perfect,â he mutters, leaving a trail of kisses down your throat until he reaches your breasts. âCanât believe youâve been keeping this from me all this time.â
âIâm sorry, Yun.â Youâre already squirming at this touch, body screaming for more than the feather-like kisses he presses to your skin.
âNo, no, baby. Donât apologize. Iâd do it all over again, knowing Iâd get to see you like this in the end. So perfect,â he repeats, and before you can reply, he wraps his lips around your nipple, tongue darting out to lick at the sensitive bud. Your back arches off his bed, but with a firm hand to your stomach, he stops you from writhing away from his touch.Â
He seems to be content with doing this for minutes on end, lips alternating between your nipples, fingers tending to the neglected one, teeth sometimes gently nibbling at your skin, leaving behind small marks on the sides of your breasts. âThere, now you canât forget me,â he says with a self-satisfied smirk when he leans back to admire his work.
âAs if I could,â you whisper back, hands finding purchase in his hair as you bring him back towards you and kiss him.
But soon enough, another part of your body starts burning from lack of attention, but even as you buck your hips towards him to signal what you need, he doesnât noticeâor doesnât care. âYunâŠâ you eventually whine, hoping heâll understand what it is you want from this one word.
âWhatâs wrong, baby? You need something?â he asks, faking an innocent tone.
So he does knowâhe just doesnât want to give it to you so easily. Itâs too bad for you that youâre famously bad at asking for what you need.
You opt instead for grabbing his hand and leading it down to your coreâsurely, thatâs enough of a message. He cups you over your shorts, and your thighs clasp around his wrist, instinctively attempting to create more friction. His hand slips below your waistband, and he groans, forehead falling against your shoulder, when he finds your lack of underwear there. He has direct access to your folds, and he wastes no time sliding two of his fingers there, humming in appreciation. âSo wet,â he mumbles, seemingly more to himself than to you.Â
âPlease, Yun,â you plead, voice almost a winceâand it is in a way painful, having him so close to where you need.
âIâm here, angel. Iâll give you what you want.â And indeed, the next second, the pads of his fingers are on your clit, rubbing torturously slow circles onto it. On the pillow, your head falls to the side in your search for more proximity with himâyou feel his laboured breathing against your face, and you shift your body closer to him, worming one of your legs between his. As though this is getting to his head as much as yours, heâs silent for a while, his fingers gathering speed on your clit, occasionally sliding down your folds and inside of you. They go so much deeper than yours can, brushing against that spot that has your nails digging into his skin. But as he brings you closer and closer to the edge, you find yourself not wanting to fall right away, at least not like this.
âYunâŠâ you breathe out, wrapping your fingers around his wrist. He stops immediately, raising his head to look at you with unnecessary concern, making your heart soften for him.
âAre you okay? Did I hurt you?â
âNo, no, I justâŠâ
You squirm uncomfortably beneath him, and his expression shiftsâdamn him for understanding so quickly what youâre too shy to say. âYou justâŠâ he trails, smug. Resuming his kisses along your throat, he says, âTell me, baby.â
âYou know,â you huff. He laughs against your skin, and even in your annoyance, the melodic sound makes your heart skip a beat.
âHm, but Iâd rather you tell me.â
You hesitate for a few seconds. Your hand finds his bulge again, and this time, he doesnât stop you. You know he wants this as badly as you do, but if telling him is what he needs, then youâll have to comply. âI needâI wantâI want to come on your dick, Jaeyun, please,â you say, forcing out the words as quickly as you can, face burning in embarrassment.
He freezes. You hear his breathing get louder, more rugged, and itâs a few seconds before he raises himself onto his elbows, fingers at your waistband, dragging your shorts down. The smugness has all but left his features, leaving behind something like sternnessâfurrowed eyebrows, dark eyes, tight jaw. As he lifts over his head the white sleeveless tee he was wearing beneath his button-up, your hands make clumsy work of his trousers, pulling them down his thighs along with his underwear. His cock springs free, tip an angry-looking red, already leaking precum, and you wonder at the self-restraint he mustâve been exercising this entire timeâitâs clearly stronger than yours.Â
You wrap a hand around the base, transfixed by the sight, and he groans. You pump him a few times, reveling in the small moans that leave his mouth, muffled in the crook of your neck, and in the way his fingers dig into the skin of your hips. He doesnât let it go on for very long, soon leaning away from you and towards his bedside table. âLet me get a condom, baby,â he says, voice shaky.Â
âIâm on the pill. You donât need to wear one.â His head snaps back towards you, eyes wide like a kid on Christmas day.
âAre you sure?â he asks, but heâs already coming back towards you, elbows on each side of your face, peppering the side of your face with kisses.
You wrap your hand around his dick again, letting his tip graze your clit before lining it with your entrance. âYeah, I am.â
He releases a shaky breath, finding your hand and intertwining his fingers with yours before he finally pushes inside of you, slowly filling you up until he bottoms out. Slick from your previous orgasm and relaxed from his fingers, you accommodate him easily, only needing a few seconds before youâre already bucking up your hips against him, asking for more. For once, Jaeyun doesnât tease youâhe obliges instantly, pushing into you with slow, precise thrusts that have the coil tightening again in your stomach with embarrassing quickness. It doesnât help that Jaeyun groans right into your ear, whispering curses, muttering about how good you feel around him, âLike you were made for me, baby.â
His free hand slides beneath your thigh and lifts it up to rest it against his hipâthis new angle allows him to go deeper, to hit that sensitive spot with every one of his thrusts. As his movements gather speed, you feel yourself inching closer and closer to your orgasm, and when it finally hits, your nails dig into the skin of his bicep, you throw your head back, and you let the pleasure wash over you, your brain going haywire, a loud moan escaping your mouth.
Jaeyun takes the opportunity to latch his lips to your throat, biting and sucking at the skin there, surely leaving yet another mark for you to find in the morning. Youâre holding onto him like you might float away if you donât, thighs shaking as overstimulation starts to set inâand yet, when he asks with a low, gruff voice whether you can handle some more, you find yourself nodding vigorously, ready to take whatever he gives you.
âThatâs my girl.â
He slips out of you and you whine at the loss. But he quickly fills you up again, first turning you onto your side as he spoons you from behind, lifting your thigh to grant him better access and pushing into you again with no hesitation. In this position, heâs able to snake an arm around you and play with your clit, making you throw your head back against his shoulder. His pace is gentle at first, as are the kisses he presses to the side of your neck and to your shoulder as he lets you adjust to this new, deeper angle. But it doesnât take long for his rhythm to quicken as he seems to be nearing release himselfâhis thrusts get sloppier, harsher, the sounds he makes more desperate.
You didnât think itâd be possible, but between his fingers on your clit, his dick deep inside you, and his filthy words in your ears, a chasm opens within you once more and you find yourself barrelling towards it at alarming speed. With a few final hard thrusts and the feeling of Jaeyunâs release filling you to the brim, you come undone for the third time tonight, your throat tight and scratchy from moaning so much.
Jaeyun stills inside of you. Without sliding out, he wraps an arm around your middle and brings you closer to him, his hold tight and reassuring. His chest is flush against your back and you feel it rise and fall with each of his breaths; your breathing slowly evens out, eventually matching the rhythm of his. With his fingertips, he draws unintelligible patterns across the skin of your stomach and waist. Tiredness makes your limbs heavy like they could sink right into his mattress. You must be mere seconds away from sleep when you feel him slip out of you. You roll onto your back as he grabs a tissue from his bedside table, cleaning you up gently as he presses a kiss to your temple. âHow do you feel?â he asks. âDo you need anything? Some water? A shower?â
You rest an arm around his waist and wiggle closer to him. âJust you,â you say.
âI can give you that. Easy,â he says, the smile audible in his voice.
.
.
You wake up a few times during the night, unaccustomed to sharing a bed with someone elseâand not just anyone at that, but Jaeyun, whose warm body you find yourself shifting closer to whenever you regain half-consciousness and realize youâre not in his arms anymore. He barely rouses as you nuzzle your face in his neck, an arm coming up to circle your waist to accommodate your body against his. You wish nothing more than to stay like this forever, but unfortunately, your faithful alarm clock rings at nine a.m. and as you reach for your phone to turn it off, Jaeyunâs loose hold on you tightens.
âDonât go yet,â he mumbles, voice muffled against your hair, and his gravelly morning voice sends a shiver right down your spine.
You smile. âIâm not. I can stay ten minutes longer.â
He whines, pulls you in closer to him. Goosebumps appear where his fingers slightly dig into your skin. âThatâs not long enoughâŠâ
âI canât miss my flight, Yun.â
âSure you can,â he says casually, and as he starts to press kisses to your neck, you almost think he might be right. âYou can catch a later one. You can go home next week.â
You hum, lifting your head to grant him better access to your throat, shivering when his teeth graze your sensitive skin. âMy boss might have something to say about that.â
Rolling you onto your back, he drops his forehead on your shoulder with a dramatic sigh. âTen minutes, you said?â he asks, with a roll of his hips so small it could be seen as accidental. But with the way his erection presses into you, thick and firm, you have an inkling it was anything but.
âFifteen if you drive fast,â you say, already starting to get out-of-breath.
âThatâs plenty.â
Neither of you bothered to put on clothes again last night, so he easily slides two fingers between your folds, gathering your slick and trailing them upwards until they reach your clit. He seems satisfied with the wetness he finds there, quickly shifting to fill you up with his dick rather than his fingers. And indeed, fifteen minutes are plentyâin the time it takes for your alarm to ring again, heâs made you come twice, his thrusts deep and precise as though he has a knowledge of your body that dates back years and not a mere day. He releases inside of you with a groan.
It does suck, having to leave so quickly. You wish you could lay in bed with him for hours, take a shower so long it has negative environmental impacts, and have a late, hearty breakfast with him. Unfortunately, you have to speed through everythingâyou need to be at the airport at eleven at the latest, and having not foreseen you wouldnât be spending the night at your aunt, you didnât finish packing before the wedding. He seems to be as aware of this as you are, and although he keeps a smile on his lips at all times, you can see your sadness reflected in his eyes at the thought of having to say goodbye, so soon after finally opening up to each other.
But in a way, you find goodbye easier this time around. As you hug your aunt and thank her for letting you stay â at which she scoffs, saying this will always be as much your house as it is hers â youâre armed with the knowledge that youâre on good terms now, and that youâre not going back to another three years of near radio silence. Itâs not an empty promise that you make her when you tell her youâll be in touch.
Youâve never seen Jaeyun as talkative as on the drive to the airport. He blabbers away, filling every second of silence like his life depends on itâyou donât help him, quiet as can be out of fear of breaking into sobs in the middle of any given sentence. You remind yourself that this goodbye is only temporary, that youâll soon make plans for him to visit, but still, your eyes burn at the thought of going home to an empty apartment and falling asleep in a half-empty bed tonight. He must sense this because he eventually tells you, voice soft and vulnerable, âDonât cry, baby.â
You purse your lips to stop them from trembling, turning away from him so he canât see your frown. âI feel like I already miss you,â you say, so low you wonder if he can even hear you.
âIâll come see you soon. And Iâll text and call you so often every day that you wonât have time to miss me,â he replies, but you can hear it in his tone that he doesnât quite believe what heâs saying, only trying to reassure you, and himself, maybe.
âThatâs impossible,â you mutter. Youâre both silent for the rest of the drive, but his hand in yours is warm, and it does more to comfort you than any words could.Â
He parks at the airport drop-off area and gets your suitcase out of the trunk for you. He wanted to park where he could leave his car longer, and go into the airport with you, but you convinced him that the quicker your goodbye, the better off youâd be. You have the sinking feeling you might burst into tears at any moment, and you donât want his last image of you for the foreseeable future to be one with tears streaming down your cheeks, donât want him to needlessly worry or drive off with a weight on his heart.
He holds you in his arms, hands rubbing reassuring circles on your back. âIâll come up as soon as I can, okay?â he says. âIn less than a month, I promise. Any longer and I might explode.â
You laugh. âI donât want you to explode.â
âNo, thatâd be pretty unfortunate.â
With one final kiss to the pretty lips that youâll be longing for until you see Jaeyun again, you grab the handle of your suitcase and walk towards the entrance of the departures area. âText me when you land, yeah?â he asks.
You nod. âI will.â You just stand there looking at him for a whileâyouâre a bit too sad to appreciate the fact that this is your first openly emotional, tearful goodbye, but part of you basks in knowing the separation isnât hard for you only. âI love you, Yun.â
He smiles, a beautiful mix of sorrow and happiness that you want to commit to memory. âI love you more, angel.â
Every time you turn around, heâs still there leaning against his car, possibly overstaying his time at the drop-off, until youâve walked too far into the airport and canât see him anymore.
.
.
Itâs already dark outside when a text from Minjeong lights up Jaeyunâs phone. Just dropped her off, it says. I tried to stop her from drinking so much, but she said she was going through Jaeyun withdrawals, whatever that means. Anyways sheâs wasted good luck lol
He shakes his head. Heâd be annoyed if he wasnât so excited to see youâheâd told Minjeong to keep you outside for a bit longer after work, not get you drunk. But before he has time to text her back, his phone starts ringing in his hand. Smiling, he picks up, your voice immediately filling his ear.
âJaeyun,â you whine, extending the second vowel for too many secondsâMinjeong wasnât just throwing words around when she said you were wasted. You must be in the elevator by now. He has half a mind to come and get you, just in case youâre stumbling around and pressing the wrong floor numbers, but if Minjeong dropped you off at your building and not your apartment, then you must have some awareness left.
He hopes. Thereâs something important he wants to talk to you about, and heâd rather you were sober for it.
âHi, baby,â he says.
This is apparently the worst thing he could possibly say, sensing as you make a noise halfway between a grunt and a whine. âDonât call me baby when I already miss you this much. Weâve talked about this!â
You definitely havenât. âIâm very sorry,â he says, exaggerating his serious tone, but you donât catch his sarcasm.
âYes, you should be.â The telltale beep of your code being pressed into the keypad breaks the silence of your apartment, and Jaeyunâs heart races with excitement. âIâm coming home now, Minjeong took me to thisââ
Your next words get caught in your throat the moment you step inside your apartment and see him, a few meters away from you in your kitchen. You stay frozen in place, phone still to your ear as he crosses the distance between you, smiling so hard his cheeks ache.
âWelcome home, angel.â
Heâs glad to see you arenât in too much of a wretched state. Even in your wide-gazed surprise, your eyes are a bit clouded over from the alcohol, and you arenât standing quite straight on your feet, but the way Minjeong texted him, he half-expected to find you with vomit on the front of your shirt. He steadies you with a hand to your waist, grabs your wrist gently to bring your arm down now that heâs hung upâand right in front of you.
âYouâre real?â you ask, and when he nods, as though that was all the confirmation you needed, you throw your arms around his neck. âMy Yunie,â you exclaim, voice muffled against his sweatshirt, and he has to bite back his laughter. Even a year and a half into your relationship, thatâs a new one. You still get flustered when a pet name escapes your lips instead of his name. Maybe he should let you get drunk more often.
You suddenly lean back, cupping his face between your palms, eyes slightly narrowed as they drift over every inch of his face, like youâre trying to see whether anythingâs changed. He lets you, a small, endeared smile on his lips, glad for the opportunity to admire you in return.
You press your lips to his, a little more forcefully than you usually would, then rest your head against his chest once more. âWhat are you doing here?â you ask. âDid you know I was missing you extra lately?â
âOf course I did. I always know what youâre thinking.â
âOkay. What am I thinking right now?â
He hums, pretends to think for a little. âThat you love me and are so happy to see me!â
You gasp. âYes! Youâre so smart,â you exclaim, hugging him even tighter.Â
Eventually, he manages to get you out of your coat and shoes, and leads you to the kitchen, where your counter is covered in flour and uncooked, homemade dumplings. He only needs to make a few more until he can start frying them. The rice is already cooked, and a miso and vegetable stew simmers on your stove. You make yourself useful by circling your arms around Jaeyunâs waist, your head resting on his shoulders as you watch him fold dough around a beef galbi filling, your favorite.Â
âDo you wanna go wash up before we eat?â he asks softly, afraid that in your sensitive state, you might take his words the wrong way. But to his surprise, you oblige without a word, giving his cheek a kiss before heading to your bedroom.
When you havenât come back ten minutes later, he goes to check on you, and finds you laying on top of your sheets, feet not even on your mattress but still on your floor like you fell back sitting and just stayed there. Youâve managed to remove your makeup and let down your hair, but you apparently ran out of energy before you could change out of your work clothes. Drool pools at the corner of your open lips.Â
Jaeyunâs heart aches with happiness. Every time he looks at you, even like this â especially like this â all he can think is how badly he wants to spend the rest of his life with you. And with every passing day that you stay with him, that you tell him good morning and good night and I love you, he thinks he might have a shot at it.
He sighs, but thereâs nothing else heâd rather be doing than slipping your trousers and blouse off of your frame and finding a large t-shirt for you to sleep in, then guiding your body underneath your sheets. You wake up once, giggle at yourself, and immediately fall back asleep.
A while later, after heâs cleaned up the kitchen, had a little bit of dinner â on his own, which he knows youâll feel awful about tomorrow â and washed up for bed, he gently closes the door of the bedroom behind him, where youâre still in deep sleep.
So heâll have to wait until the morning to share his news. Itâs alrightâhe has the whole weekend to tell you heâs found the perfect house, not too far from Gimcheon or from Daegu, where your boss has already said you could be transferred. He visited it last week, and in every room, he could picture your future together so perfectly. The kitchen in which heâll make you a late breakfast on lazy Sunday mornings, the room with a beautiful view over a garden that you could turn into an office for your work-from-home days, the bedroom that he could all too well imagine a crib in. Layla could run around in the garden. You could visit your family and friends whenever you wanted. You could be in Seoul in less than two hours with the train if you ever missed it.
Youâve been talking about moving somewhere together for a while now, but heâs still nervous to bring it up. Itâs a huge step, and he can only hope you are as ready as he is to take itâand if you arenât yet, heâll gladly wait for you to be. But as he slips into bed with you, your warm body shifting into his embrace even in sleep, he doubts heâll have to wait long at all. The days of holding back are long goneâever since itâs fully gotten through to you that he wonât ever leave your side if he can help it, youâve opened up to him like never before, let him take care of you like heâs always dreamed of.
He looks down at you and your peaceful sleeping face, his initial dangling on a thin silver chain that youâve worn since you found it again while organizing your jewelry box a few weeks ago. This is enough for now. But one day, if youâll have him, heâll make you his with another piece of jewelry, and falling asleep with you in his arms wonât be a once-in-a-while occurrence anymore.
Itâs more than enough, he thinks as he presses a kiss to your forehead, and lets the soft sound of your breathing lull him into sleep. Itâs everything.
.
.
âMy wife.â
Jaeyunâs voice is a low, possessive grunt in your ear. He says those two words like they hold the most precious meaning in the world, and it makes fire rise deep inside you.
You thought the reason Jaeyun had been so antsy during your journey to Hawaii was because heâd never travelled this far. Youâd chalked up his need to have his hand in yours or resting on your thigh for the entirety of the flight to it being his first time on a long-distance plane. You easily dismissed his clinginess on the drive from the airport to your hotel as his being tired, which always made him a little needier.
But when he pressed his body to yours the moment the door of your hotel room shut behind you, you finally understood what had actually been on his mind this entire timeâthe feeling of his erection, hard and insistent on your lower stomach, left no room for interpretation.
To be fair, since getting married three days ago, in the familiarity of your backyard and surrounded by your loved ones, youâd barely gotten any alone time. Relatives of his that lived far away stayed at your house until yesterday night, and at bedtime every night, either one or both of you were too tired to initiate anything. You havenât had sex since becoming Jaeyunâs wife, and clearly, this has been weighing on your husband.
He kisses you like he has been starving for months, desperate, ravenous, crazed. His arms around you hold you in a tight embrace, your bags haphazardly discarded at your feet. Eventually, he reaches for the back of your thighs and, legs hooked around his waist, carries you to the bed youâll call yours for the next week. You hadnât expected to break it in so quickly, but you wouldnât have it any other way, not when Jaeyunâs tongue laps at your mouth like this, not when his teeth graze your bottom lip so deliciously.
âNeed to touch you so bad, my love. Can I?â he asks, voice breathy.
âYes, Yun, please.âÂ
He slips a hand below your waistband and hums in satisfaction at the wetness he finds there. âAlways so wet for me, arenât you, baby? Always ready for me to fuck you.â
The feeling of his expert fingers on your clit render you unable to reply to himâitâs not like heâs waiting for an answer, anyway. The way you throw your head back and moan his name is all the confirmation he could need.Â
Although youâd be content to go on like this, it seems as though this isnât enough for him. He quickly withdraws his fingers, swallowing your whine of protest with a kiss. Itâs unusual, the speed with which he makes his way down your body until his face is level with your core. He normally likes to take his sweet time with you, trailing kisses all over your skin before giving in to your pleas for more. You take a little pride in knowing that you donât have to begâfor once, heâs the desperate one, heâs the one who canât wait a second longer.
Itâs obscene, and obscenely hot, the way he presses his nose against the crotch of your sweatpants and inhales deeply, a guttural groan escaping his throat. He presses kisses to your inner thighs and core over your clothes before he actually slides them down your thighs, letting them pool at your knees like he doesnât have time to take them off completely. He doesnât bother with your t-shirt, either, simply snaking his hands underneath it until they reach your breasts.
âFuck, Iâve missed this pussy so much,â he mutters, admiring it like it belongs in a museum.Â
You smile. âItâs been, like, four days.â
He shakes his head. âNever going without it for that long again.â
Jaeyun dives into your core, tongue licking a long stripe up your folds before it finds your clit and settles there, alternating between licking and sucking at the sensitive bud, two of his slender fingers quickly sliding inside of you. Your hands find purchase in his hair, tugging at it when a motion of his tongue feels particularly good, hips bucking against his mouth whenever his fingers hit that particularly deep spot inside you. He moans ceaselessly into your core, the vibrations making your thighs shake around his head, as though he needed this as much as you didâif not more. You swear you hear him mutter âmy wifeâ at some point. Embarrassingly quickly, you start to feel that familiar coil of pleasure form low in your stomach, a warm, dizzying buzz spreading throughout your entire body all the way to your fingertips.
Your relief at not having to beg turns out to be short-lived. Jaeyun makes you come on his tongue a first, then a second time, as he is often wont to do. Youâre impossibly sensitive, body heavy and boneless by the third time, but he isnât satisfied. His grip on your hips is firm, and you donât have the energy to fight itânor the willingness, really. Tears stream down your face by the time your fourth orgasm hits you, at which point you canât even tell pleasure from pain anymore. You really do need a break, though, and signal this to your husband â your husband â by lifting his head from your core.
He gives you a few minutes of physical respite, but the words that he whispers against your skin as he presses feverish kisses to your throat and jaw keep you in that hazy, nebulous headspace, and in those few minutes only, you already find yourself reaching for him, cupping his erection over his sweatpants.
You wince when he enters you, overstimulation setting in solely from having him inside you, but you shake your head when he asks if you need a longer break. âWant you, Yun,â you breathe out, holding onto his biceps, nails already digging into his skin.
As he pistons his hips into yours relentlessly, you almost canât believe this is the same man who was standing before you at the altar mere days ago, the sweetest smile on his lips and tears in his pretty eyes. You guess heâs holding true to one of his vowsâhe said heâd never make you doubt how much he loves you, and right now, you canât deny that heâs fucking you like youâre the only woman for him.
You think he must be close when his thrusts speed up and his grunts get louder. And recently, thereâs been a new telltale sign that he was inching closer to his orgasm.
âGonna fill you up, angel. Gonna stuff you full of my cum and make you the prettiest mommy ever. All round and beautiful, and carrying my baby. Show the whole world who you belong to.â
He mutters these words right into your ear just as his breathing gets heavier, more ragged, and seconds later, you feel him spurting ropes of his sperm inside you. When he first started talking to you like this, you assumed it was just long-term relationship dirty talk. But a couple of weeks ago, when you told him you were almost at the end of your last tablet of birth control, he asked how you felt about not renewing your prescriptionâso not just dirty talk, you realized.
He pulls out of you but stays on top of you, catching his breath as he rests his head on your chest and you play with his hair. Eventually, he grabs your left hand, lifts it to his lips, and presses them to your ring finger, right over the silver band. âThank you for marrying me, angel,â he whispers. âYouâve made me the happiest man on Earth.â
You kiss the top of his head, basking in the pleasant warmth of his words, of his scent, of his reassuring weight as he lays on top of you. âIâm the lucky one.â
âWill you still feel lucky when I tell you weâre not leaving this room all day?â
When you lift your head to look at him, heâs wearing a devilish grin. âWhy not?â you ask.
âBecause,â he says, pressing his lips to yours, âIâm fucking the jetlag out of you.â Your body responds to him, heat already starting to swirl in your stomach as though you havenât already taken more than you could handleâyour desire for him is a bottomless well. âAnd, so that in fifteen years, we get to embarrass our kid by telling them they were conceived in Hawaii.â
Needless to say, over the next week, you spend a lot more time in your hotel room than youâd planned, often only going out around noon or coming back halfway through dinnerâwhenever Jaeyun sees that ring around your finger, he seems to need some alone time with you.
He doesn't think he'll ever stop needing alone time with you.
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of all the people in the world - sjy (m)
pairing. sim jaeyun x reader
synopsis. You know you should be ecstatic about the invitation to Chaewonâs and Jaeminâs wedding in your mailbox, but you canât help the nerves gnawing away at your stomach. There are too many things youâve left unresolved after moving to Seoulâyour aunt, your friends, and most of all Sim Jaeyun, the boy youâve never let yourself love.
genre. childhood/high school friends that grow apart to lovers, angsty fluff, small town au, mutual pining bc they're idiots, this is kind of like hometown but different i promise, SMUT MDNI !!!!
warnings. characters are aged up (late 20s), reader is a little clueless but she's doing her best okay, family issues and family member death, jake is exclusively referred to as jaeyun deal with it
word count. 35.3k
author's note. listen to the playlist here + as always a big thank you to @zreamy for beta reading this and freaking out over jaeyun!!! happy very very late birthday can't wait to name my firstborn child after you... Zreamy Lee what a beautiful name... im sure anton will be stoked when i let him know!
Most of the time When he looks at me I change my mind And I donât think he even cares a bit How much I have to give Just as long as Iâm awake To love him every day [...] Of all the people in the world [He] says my name the best Most of the Time, Jackie Evans
From his seat on the couch, Jaeyun stares at the golden inflated balloons spelling out âCongratulations, Y/N!â on the wall of your auntâs living room. The more he stares, the more the capital letters seem to be mocking him.Â
He allows himself one last moment of selfishness, during which he thinks the last thing he wants to do, today or ever, is to congratulate you on getting your one-way ticket out of this town. He downs his fruit punch and winces at the overly sweet, artificial taste, then marches towards the crowd around you, trying on different smiles that might seem convincing. None of them fit.
August is nearing its end already. Summer has always felt lazy, molasses-slow, pleasantly neverending to Jaeyunâthis year, it blinked by him. He closed his eyes as the schoolbell rang for their last ever period; he opens them again and he is here. Wasnât prom just yesterday? Graduation? Did he realize that the last bonfire party was just that, the last?Â
Your birthday isnât for another week, but youâre leaving tomorrow. Everyone huddles around you, eagerly awaiting your reaction as you open gifts. If it wasnât for the presents and the chocolate fudge cake waiting in the fridge, this wouldnât be a birthday party so much as a going-away party. The dreadful words on your wall make that clear: everyone here knows youâre much happier about leaving than about turning eighteen. You said so yourself a few days earlier, and Jaeyun tried his hardest not to burst into tears.
âI can celebrate my birthday every year. Iâll only get accepted into the program of my dreams once.âÂ
You were sitting, just the two of you, atop one of the hills that overlooked your town. Jaeyun knew that when you looked out, you already saw your past, while he could only see his whole life, past, present and future indistinguishable from each other, spreading out for miles and miles and miles.Â
Up until a few months ago, when Jaeyun looked at you, he could only see his whole life. But ever since you received your acceptance letter, he hasnât been so sure. He watched as you celebrated leaving him behind, stayed silent as you raved about your plans for the future. Plans he wasnât a part of. These past months have been the only time seeing you smile made him sad.
He stays at the back of the small crowd, close enough to make out your presents as you unwrap them but not quite joining in. Hands in his back pockets, he wears his best neutral expressionäžif he canât fake a smile, he can at least try and not look so depressed. As your friend, he owes you that much. He might hate every moment of this but heâd feel even worse, knowing he was raining on your parade.
You seem to like your gifts. After spending your teenage years together, your friends know what you like. Scented candles, cute notebooks that youâll probably keep preciously rather than actually use, a personalized calendar for the upcoming school year with a different picture of you and your loved ones every month. Jaeyun shows up a few times in group pictures; itâs just the two of you in April, which is too far away for his liking. Far away enough for you to have forgotten all about him.
As you flip through the calendar, despite your friendsâ protest for the pictures to be a surprise each month, itâs on April that you linger the most. Thereâs a small smile on your face, a sad smile. Your fingers play with the pendant on your necklace, Jaeyunâs gift that he gave you before everyone else even arrived. It was too intimate a gift for him to hand it to you in front of all your friends. He almost died of embarrassment when your eyebrows rose at the sight of the delicate, silver chain, of the letter âJâ hanging off it, and it was just the two of you; if anyone else had been in the room, his shyness wouldâve gotten the best of him, and the jewelry box wouldâve stayed safely tucked in his coat pocket.
You lift your gaze towards him. He didnât even know youâd noticed him joining everyone, and yet your eyes found him immediately. He has no idea what on Earth is going through your head. Are you finally realizing that the days of seeing each other every single day are over? Are you finally figuring him out, how it isnât only friendship that has kept him by your side all these years, but the feeling deep in his gut that he gets whenever he thinks of you?
Do you have that feeling, too?
Your eyes shine. For a second, Jaeyun thinks you might start to cry. Then someone, Miji or Yurim, who knows, says that sheâs on the next page. Your gaze falls back to the calendar in your hands. Your fingers let go of your necklace, and you flip Jaeyunâs page.
.
.
A tight ball of dread has been sitting in your stomach ever since you got that letter in the mail. Youâve tried to rationalize it many ways: it feels weird to receive a wedding invitation, the first from someone out of your childhood group of friends. Even more so when that someone is the girl you called your best friend for all of your teenage years, but you arenât sure you deserve that title anymore. Even more so when youâre 28 and couldnât be further from drafting a wedding invitation yourself.
You know what it really is: itâs the address for the reception, the name of a place in which you havenât set foot in years blinking innocently up at you. Itâs the second piece of paper inside the envelope, a handwritten note asking you to come a few days earlier so that all of you âcan gather just like the good old times.â
Iâm getting married, Y/N. Iâm turning into a proper adult. I just want one last time of feeling like a sixteen year old, and I canât have that without you here. Say youâll be there, pretty please? XX
You remember sighing after reading that note, your brain already coming up with excuses to justify your future absence, fully aware that you wouldnât miss this wedding for the world.Â
Damn Chaewon, you thought then, and still regularly think now. Damn her and her emotional manipulation, as youâve decided to view it, forcing you to make that dreaded trip homeânot that you really consider that place home anymore.
It was a wonder that you and Chaewon were such good friends back then, good enough to still keep in touch throughout your adult lives. Just like every baby in the family, she was born in the upstairs bedroom of their home, the mayorâs daughter, known and loved by everyone in town, and had always adored her small-town life. You showed up out of nowhere at age fourteen, initially making no effort to befriend anyone, annoyed by the whispers that followed you. You wanted to leave as soon as you arrived, and you eventually did; although along the way, Chaewonâs kind-heartedness melted even your ice walls, and you gradually opened the gates to let the other kids in.
For almost a decade, youâve been working to close those gates again. You were almost there; they were barely agape, there was just that tiny thread that kept an infinitesimal part of you tethered to that place, and you were sure it was close to snapping. Chaewon and her damn wedding invitation pushed the gates back open, and it took you all your strength to not look back and walk through again.
You left something there, and you arenât sure youâre ready to retrieve it.Â
The ball of dread, as though tethered to a chain around your ankle, wonât stop following you. Up until now, you hadnât noticed how much everything around you seemed to revolve around romance. The TV you watched. The content on your phone. Couples in the street. Even your work was full of it. Youâre the editor for the Culture and Media segment of Limelight Monthly, the magazine you work at, not Relationships or even Lifestyle, and yet, in the weeks after receiving the invitation, it felt like all your staff could write about were the latest romance novels everyone raved about online, the best reality TV shows about exes getting back together or forever-singles searching for their first love, and which destinations were the most romantic for couples to travel to this summer.Â
You do a good job hiding it at first. Although youâre not as focused as you usually are reading your staffâs articles to greenlight them for publication, two years of doing this job means no typos or clunky sentences pass you by. You make sure to greet everyone with your usual cheer, and you donât miss any Thursday evening afterwork drinks, a tradition of your teamâs. Most of the time, youâre able to relegate Chaewonâs wedding and everything it entails to the back of your mind, but itâll come back up at random moments. Youâll be filling the kettle for tea in the communal kitchen when a certain face will fill the forefront of your thoughts; your heart will start beating uncontrollably, and before you know it, water will be overflowing from the kettle and onto your hands. Youâll stare at the awfully familiar name of a book character in one of your coworkersâ reviews and only snap out of it once someoneâs called your name three times in a row, like being summoned out of a trance.Â
These moments are few and far between, but they add up. When your coworkers ask you whether everythingâs okay, at first, itâs lighthearted, like theyâre just curious about what got you so lost in your thoughts. Slowly, eyebrows start to furrow, concern starts creeping in their eyes and voice. Youâre one zone-out away from an intervention. A few days ago, you overheard Juhee and Haewon, your teamâs two most recent recruits, whispering in the break room about their concern for your well-being: âI think she goes home and just, I donât know, has takeaway and white wine in front of her TV.â
Theyâre wrong about the takeaway. Youâre actually a pretty decent cook. The rest of their sentiment, however⊠Well.
It takes Minjeong, your favorite coworker-turned-friend, a couple of weeks before she decides to take matters into her own hands. One Tuesday after work, she waits for you outside the buildingâs main entrance, and as soon as you step outside, grabs your wrist and drags you to the subway station thatâll lead both of you to her apartment. âIâm making you chicken alfredo and youâre telling me what the hell is wrong with you,â she says before you can protest.
You wrench your wrist out of her grasp, shrug on the bag strap that had fallen off your shoulder with a discontented huff, and follow her anyway. âFine, but Iâm only coming for the chicken alfredo.â
âIâll tie you down to the chair until you speak.â
âKinky.â
She halts dead in her tracks in the middle of the busy street, ignoring the nasty stares from the other homebound office workers heading for the station. She turns to face you, wearing a severe expression. âIâve known you for five years, and youâve never cried in front of me. Not even when we watched Titanic.â
Nonplussed, you reply, âI already knew how it ended.â
âThatâs not the point. Itâs usually impossible to get a read on you, so when not one or two, but three people come up to me and ask whether youâre alright, that means somethingâs seriously wrong. Iâd be a terrible friend if I didnât try to find out what that was.â
You hesitate. Youâre embarrassed that youâve been so obvious, and that youâre even this upset in the first place. Who on Earth has such a hard time being happy about her childhood best friendâs upcoming wedding? Your first reaction shouldâve been to call Chaewon and rave with her and ask for all the details. You should be sending her pictures of potential dresses and asking her which one fits her color palette the best. You shouldnât be needing the aforementioned intervention.
It isnât like you have to follow Minjeong and air your dirty laundry out to her. If it came to it, your couple inches over her might help you win a physical fight. But something about her sincere concern makes you foldâhow long has it been since you let someone worry about you like this? Long enough that you forgot how nice it feels, apparently.
She must sense a shift in your demeanor, because she relaxes. âLetâs go,â she says, and this time, she doesnât need to drag you with her.
From the moment you met Minjeong, you knew she came from money. It wasnât that she flaunted it or appeared out-of-touch with reality; she just had a way of moving through the world with the air of confidence of someone who knew they belonged, who was used to getting what they wanted. It also helped that she often came to work with a new designer bag and always had flawless hair and nails.
It intimidated you at first, the way she seemed to have worked in this office her whole life, whereas it took you weeks before you stopped being so eager to please and be overly polite with everyone. But it quickly became clear that although you found her infinitely cool, she wasnât cold. You didnât work for the same segment, but you spent your lunch breaks together, getting scolded by your respective bosses more than once for coming back half-an-hour late; you would often be so busy talking, you wouldnât keep track of the time.
But it wasnât until you stepped inside her apartment for the first time that you realized just how wealthy she, or her family, was. She lived in one of the fanciest neighborhoods of town, in an apartment that you could hardly afford now as an editor, let alone when you were just starting out at the magazineâyet sheâd been living there since graduating from university. Itâs on the top floor of a brand new apartment complex and composed of three bedrooms and two bathrooms, a ridiculously large open plan kitchen and living room, and a balcony with possibly the best view over the city youâve ever seen. Her furniture looked and felt expensive, and it made you dizzy trying to figure out how much the artwork that hung on her walls and decorated her shelves mustâve cost. To this day, you havenât been brave enough to ask.
When you step inside her apartment today, she wastes no time before ordering you to sit at the kitchen island. You watch as she grabs a bottle of wine from the fridge, hesitates, then puts it back. Instead, she grabs a bottle of gin and an unopened one of tonic from a cupboard, two glasses and some ice from the freezer. You smile and sit silently as she expertly pours two drinks. âHere,â she says, sliding a glass towards yours. âI thought you might want something stronger.â
âShould I be worried you just have this on hand?â you tease.
She rolls her eyes. âItâs for emergencies like these, obviously.â You clink your glasses and take a wonderful sip. Then, she looks you straight in the eyes and says, âSo, tell me whatâs been on your mind.â
So you do.
You tell her about the wedding invitation and what it entails: travelling back to the town you used to live in, having to face everyone you left behind there. You keep things vague. You donât name names, or dump your entire backstory on her; you simply tell her you didnât have the best relationship with your aunt when you left, and phone calls between the two of you have been few and far between in the time youâve moved away. And that this goes for a few other people from home, namely one other person.
Of course, this isnât enough for Minjeong. She prods, and prods, and prods, until you finally give in. With a sigh and a heavy gulp of your wine, you ask, âWhere do you even want me to start?â
She smiles. âFrom the beginning.â
You stare each other off for a few beats. Even as your instincts tell you to keep your mouth shut, a small voice at the back of your mind says, For once, why not?
âI donât⊠talk about this,â you say, voice shaky.
Worry knots Minjeongâs eyebrows together. âIs it that bad?â
âItâs not that itâs bad,â you reply quickly to reassure her. âI just donât like even thinking about it. So talking about it⊠Well, that forces me to think about it, doesnât it?â
âListen,â Minjeong says, walking over to your side of the island, resting her hand over yours. âIf you really donât want to talk about it, I wonât force you. But from what I can tell, itâd do you some good.â She takes a deep breath, then speaks all in one go. âAlso Iâm dying to know. Iâm not supposed to tell you this but everyone at the office has a theory about where you come from because you never talk about it.â
When you gasp, she shakes her head and squeezes your hand. âI promise everything said here will stay here. Iâd derive much more satisfaction from being the only one knowing about your past than blabbing about it to everyone anyway.â
For some reason, this works on you. Maybe Minjeong feels trustworthy enough. Or maybe you know sheâs right, you know itâll do you good to speak about it, to release some of the burden.
âOkay.â
You really do start from the beginning, and work your way up from there. Why you had to move to Gimcheon without your parents. Why it was difficult living with your aunt, and why you could hardly make friends at first. Why it was your sole goal in life to move back to Seoul at eighteen, and why with every passing year, the thought of leaving became harder and harder. Why you did it anyway.Â
What it cost you.
It feels strange to speak so much at once, and about yourself. Minjeong is plating dinner as youâre wrapping your story up. She has so many questions, it takes you almost an hour to finish your food. But you find yourself readily answering every one of them; youâve gone this far already, so you might as well give her the fullest picture you can.
Oddly enough, itâs perhaps her easiest question that has you hesitating the most. Itâs the end of the night, and youâre surprised your eyes have stayed dry throughout it; but when she asks you this, your nose starts to prickle.
âWhatâs this guyâs name, anyway? Weâve talked so much about him, and youâve only referred to him as your friend.â
You canât help but smile even as the word tugs sharply on your heartstrings.Â
âJaeyun.â
.
.
As the date of the wedding approaches, the tight knot of nerves in your stomach grows bigger. The evening before your flight, it takes you hours to fall asleep, your packed suitcase next to your bed startling you every time you lay eyes on it. You sleep fitfully for three hours, then a never-ending loop of worst-case scenarios plays in your head as you go through the motions of getting yourself ready and to the airport. An older woman sits next to you on the plane; anxiety must be emanating from you like a bad odor for her to rest a kind hand on your shoulder and tell you that domestic flights like these are very safe, that sheâs flown many times and that nothing badâs ever happened. You donât have it in you to tell her, a total albeit nice stranger, that itâs not the journey thatâs worrying you so much, but the destination.
Stepping inside the airport at Daegu feels surreal. The few times youâve traveled between Seoul and Gimcheon, you droveâbut Chaewon forced you to fly down, saying you couldnât just get in your car and leave if you suddenly felt like it. You didnât tell her you could almost just as easily get a same-day flight, if it really came down to it.
You hope it wonât.
The airport is so relatively unbusy, so it doesnât take you too long before you arrive at the parking lot, eyes searching for your aunt and her green little car that sheâs always driven and that has somehow yet to break down.Â
But itâs another familiar face that your eyes land on.Â
The sight feels like a punch to the gut. For a few seconds, you swear you stop breathing, the sound of your heartbeat so loud in your ears that it cuts off all other noise around you, of planes taking off, people reuniting, car doors slamming shut.
You werenât supposed to see him so soon. You were supposed to meet your aunt, go through a slightly awkward car ride, maybe have your first adult conversation with her now that you werenât, or at least less of, an angsty teen. You were then supposed to get ready, both mentally and physically, for seeing all of your friends at once again, for seeing him. Who was standing in front of his car, staring at you with a small smile that kept breaking your heart over and over again, clearly here to pick you up.
He lets you stare back. Lets you stand there, mouth agape in shock, fingers wrapped so tight around the handle of your suitcase that your nails dig into the skin of your palm. You werenât supposed to see him so soon. You didnât get enough time to prepare, to adjust to being here, and now youâre standing there dumbly like youâve just seen a ghost.
In a way, you have.
You regain part of your senses. When you try to say his name, your voice is hoarse, and it comes out as a whisper, barely audible even to you. So you clear your throat, try a second time.
âJaeyun.â
The name feels clumsy on your tongue, like a foreign language you once knew but lost due to lack of practice. And yet, when he smiles and says your name back to you, it sounds so right, like no one else is as deserving of saying it as he is.
âHi, Y/N.â
Your feet move of their own accord as they step towards him; he mirrors you, and in mere seconds youâre face-to-face with him, and when he reaches out you think he might hug you but all he does is take your suitcase from you and roll it to the trunk of his car. A sigh escapes your lips, but youâre unsure whether it's one of disappointment or of relief.
âThere was an emergency at the hospital, so Auntie asked me to pick you up. I hope itâs okay with you,â he explains. You watch, transfixed, as he closes the trunk, then walks over to the passenger side, opening the door and motioning for you to go in.
You nod. âYeah, itâs okay. Thank you.â
Instead of walking right away to his side of the car, he stays there, one hand on top of the door as you take a seat and fasten your seatbelt. âItâs no worries,â he says finally before gently shutting your door.
There are so many things to think about. Usually, youâd get hung up over the fact that even on the day of your coming back home for the first time in years, your aunt still prioritizes her job over you, or over the fact that Jaeyun still calls her Auntie, despite the resolve youâve had since you were fourteen of calling her by her first name, and her first name only.
Now, as the boy â the man â beside you starts the car, hands steady compared to your trembling ones, a peaceful expression on his face, all you can think about is the improbability of it all, of being back here, of being next to Jaeyun of all people and not knowing what to say to him. If someone had told you ten years ago, that one day a reunion with Jaeyun would mean silence and cramp-inducing nerves, you would have either laughed them off, or been scared into never leaving at all.Â
Your mind conjures an infinite list of conversation starters, but none of them seem good enough. Theyâre all too relaxed, too intense, too inappropriate for a situation like this. Like a fish out of water, you keep opening your mouth to say something, only to close it when you decide not to.Â
Jaeyun being this quiet only makes things worse. If thereâs one thing about him, itâs that heâs always talking like he canât get the words out fast enoughâbut maybe itâs been too long for you to speak with any authority about what Sim Jaeyun is like. You know youâve changed a lot in ten yearsâhow can you expect him to be the same boy you left? You canât even tell whether heâs just calmer now or if heâs decided to torture you by silence.Â
As he keeps his eyes on the road ahead of him, you risk furtive glances, trying to assess how much about him mightâve changed. Thereâs still something of the boy who used to split clementines with you in the winter, who would whisper the answers to you when you got called on in class and blanked. Heâs grown into his features, heâs learned how to style his hair, but his kind smile and eyes havenât changed in the slightest. You still find yourself inexplicably drawn to everything about him, even the small cut on his jawline, probably from shavingâyour fingers crave to feel it, this sign of a private life that you havenât been privy to for years. That you havenât been a part of.
Minutes pass by like eternity. Heâs only pulling out of the parking lot and joining the freeway and youâre already wondering how youâll survive the twenty-minute car ride to your auntâs. Thankfully, Jaeyun eventually puts an end to your agony.Â
âThereâs so much I want to tell you that I donât know where to start.â His voice is low, infused with a kind of timidity youâve rarely heard from him. It seems to reflect your feelings exactly, and youâre so relieved you could cry.Â
A small chuckle escapes your throat. âMe too,â you say, glancing at him briefly, avoiding his gaze by the fraction of a second. Itâs hard enough being in an enclosed space with him; eye contact isnât an option right now. Every time his eyes flick over to you, the side of your face heats up so much you think it might melt right off.
âHowâhow are you?â he asks.
Youâre not sure whether he means right now, or in generalâbut you donât really feel like examining your feelings about being back here more than you already have, and especially not in front of Jaeyun, so you go for the second meaning.
âGood,â you say. âEverythingâs going well at work. And Iâve got a few really great friends. What about you?â
A few beats pass without his answerâin the corner of your eye, you see his head swivel back-and-forth between the road and your face. âWhat, thatâs it?â he finally says with a small, disbelieving chuckle. âThe last time I saw you was three years ago. Surely you have more to say than that.â He doesnât sound angry, just genuinely eager to get more information out of you. But his words make you angry at yourself, because they remind you that itâs your fault you know so little about each otherâs lives now. Itâs not for his lack of trying, and you both know thatâsince you left ten years ago, his unwavering kindness and lack of resentment towards you has surprised you every time youâve seen him again.Â
âI donât know, nothingâs really happened. I was promoted pretty recentlyââ
âOkay, thatâs definitely not nothing. Congratulations, Y/N. You deserve it.â
Theyâre words youâve heard a hundred times before, but coming from him, they sound so heartfelt, like he truly is proud and happy for you, that you canât help but soften at them. Smiling, you say, âYouâve never seen me at work. Maybe I slack off all day and hand in everything late.â
âIâve seen you in high school, and thatâs enough to know youâd rather pull out your hair strand by strand than hand in anything a minute late.â
You laugh, and when he turns his head to look at you, this time, you mirror him. He can only keep his eyes off the road for so long, but a second is all you need. Your gazes meet, and heâs wearing one of your favorite smiles of his, the one that makes you feel like heâs really glad to see you again, and a weight is suddenly taken off your shoulders.
Maybe this wonât be so bad after all.
Thankfully, the remainder of the car ride is much less awkward than its first few minutes.You find Jaeyun to be as talkative as ever, not shy in the slightest to tell you about everything going on in his life, from the arguments he gets into with his colleagues â which happen to mostly be members of his family â to the hikes heâs been going on more frequently now that heâs adopted a dog, a Border Collie he says you have to meet.Â
Your nerves are appeased. The last time you saw Jaeyun three years ago, it was for his grandmotherâs funeral. She was the main reason heâd stayed hereâback in high school, heâd had vague plans of moving to Seoul after graduating from university in Daegu. But when she got sick, with his brother abroad and his parents working hard to afford the hospital bills, he decided there should be someone to keep her company and take care of her, and that someone would be him. You could count on one hand the number of times youâd been back, and when she passed was one of them. He tried to keep a brave front, smiling as he greeted and thanked everyone for coming, but you could see right through the facade, although itâd been a long time since you could call yourself a close friend of his.
You only stayed three days. The night before you went back to Seoul, you went over to his apartment to make him dinner. In front of you, he let it all outâheâd always cried easily, but never like this. You spent so much time comforting him and offering him your shoulder that in the end, you could only make him a bowl of pasta with tomato sauce that he barely ate half of. You knew only too well what sort of pain he was going through. While your brain has wiped most of your memories of the events soon following your parentsâ deaths, you remember the hurt that lasted months, years, that still comes back now from time to time, when you least expect it. It was partly thanks to Jaeyunâs friendship that your grief was easier to overcomeâas you got to know him and your new classmates, he took your mind off of things little by little, until one afternoon, you came home from school and realized you hadnât felt suddenly sad or irrationally angry the entire day.
The moment you left him that night, his cheeks tear-stained and his eyebrows furrowed even in sleep, you made a promise to yourself that youâd be there for him at twenty-five as he was for you at fourteen, despite the distance that separated you. You texted him everyday, called three times in a row if he didnât answer, made sure your mutual friends checked up on him often.Â
But Jaeyun was, is strong and he had amazing people surrounding him, people heâs known his entire life and that have his back. He was back on his feet soon, sooner than you expected, for how close he was to his grandmother. Because of, or thanks to that, when you felt like he didnât need you to look after him anymore, you only felt a little guilty for pulling away. More accurately, the guilt ate relentlessly at you, but you had excuses to make yourself feel better. His dad made all his favorite dishes. Jaemin took him out fishing. A neighbor of his had a dog who gave birth, and he adopted one of the pups. With or without you, he was going to be fine.
You didnât mind looking after him. But as soon as you felt like you were relying on him, you panicked. And you were starting to look forward to your weekly calls far too much for your liking. So you reached out less often. It was a busy time at work â when wasnât it, after all? â and you buried yourself in it so that when you told him you were too busy to call or to head back for the weekend, you werenât lying.
Things went back to the way they were for the seven previous years. You were as relieved as you were heartbroken.
You look at him now, listening to his lively rants with a smile on your face, thinking how glad you are it all turned out okay. The sadness of being apart from him, the longing of missing him, youâd do it all again if it meant heâd be laughing like this in the end.
Parked in front of your auntâs house, Jaeyun turns off the ignition and turns to you. âDo you want me to come in with you?â he asks.
How easily you fall back into your old ways. Twenty minutes with him and you feel like a teenager again, annoyed with him for being so nice, so unrelentingly nice, annoyed at your stupid heart for beating up a storm in your chest every time he so much as smiles at you. You want desperately to say yes. To have someone to lean on as you walk into the house that contains so many bad memoriesâfights with your aunt followed by silence, the feeling of loneliness that pervaded your teenage years and that you havenât quite managed to shake off. Itâd be so nice to have Jaeyun there with youâand judging from the concern on his face, he seems to know how you feel.
But you canât let him, because you canât let yourself need him. Not again. Not when you already know how it ends.
You smile and shake your head, ignoring the disappointment that flashes across his features. âItâs okay. I donât wanna take up more of your time.â He looks like heâs going to say something, so you quickly add, already opening the passenger door, âIâll see you later for the reunion, yeah? Thank you for the ride, Yun.â
With a sigh, he lets go of whatever it was he wanted to say. âOf course. Anytime.â
He gets out of the car even though you tell him not to, and helps you with your suitcase, which really isnât that heavy. You can tell that your declining his offer has dampened his enthusiasm somewhat, and yet, he waits until youâre at the front door, one hand on the handle, the other waving him goodbye, to drive away. As though he wanted to keep an eye on you for as long as he couldâand so do you. You watch his car get smaller until it disappears around a corner. Then, inhaling and exhaling deeply, you turn the key you havenât used in years inside the keyhole and push the door open.
The first thing you notice is the unchanging smell of the house. Like the cleaning product your aunt uses, and a slight stale odor of food, because she always forgets to crack open a window or turn on the oven fan when she cooks. Plus a scent specific to the house that reminds you of your aunt, of the clothes she wears, of the blanket she covers herself with while she watches reality TV after particularly long shifts.
Gently closing the door behind you, you stand in the entrance for a while, letting yourself take the time you need to get used to this place again. Youâre glad your aunt isnât home to usher you in and pretend sheâs happier to see you than she is, or that you didnât let Jaeyun accompany you. You donât want anyone, least of all him, to witness you looking around the house like itâs the first time you step foot in it.
Everything is the same as ever. Same furniture, same photos in the frames, same wallpaper, which make the few novelties even more striking. A plant in the corner of the living room, a new, more modern kettle in the kitchen. The black-and-white, low quality scan of your first ever article printed in Limelight is still displayed on the fridge, held up by the Brisbane magnet seventeen-year-old Jaeyun gifted you after he came back from visiting his family there.Â
You make your way upstairs slowly, holding onto the wooden rail for support, more emotional than physical. Your bedroom is a time capsule of your time in Gimcheon, with the same plain purple bedsheets your aunt bought before you arrived, the same posters of the boybands fifteen-year-old you obsessed over on your walls, the same fantasy series you used to devour during summer break on your shelves. You canât help but crack a smile at the sight of it all. In all the times youâve come back to this house, youâve never had it in you to change anything about this room. You want to keep it preciously, as if changing anything about it would change the memories associated with it, both good and bad.
Losing both of your parents at once had made you anything but an insouciant teenager. You were overly serious and reserved, grief forcing you to grow up far before any kid should have to. And yet, standing in this room, you remember the fleeting moments during which your biggest worries were a pimple on your chin or a test in a subject you didnât like.Â
For all your grievances against your aunt, you wouldâve turned into a much different person if she hadnât taken you in back then. Your dadâs family lived in another country, and you knew from conversations with your aunt that she and your mother didnât have the best relationship with their parents. Their brother had three kids of his own, whereas your aunt had none; it only made sense for her to welcome you into her house. When you were mad at her, you told yourself it was only her moral and legal obligation to take care of you as your closest relative, but when you were feeling more generous â which, for fifteen-year-old you, could be rare â you realized that having a comfortable room to yourself and cupboards always stocked with your favorite snacks was something to be grateful for.Â
And there were the friends you made here, whose pictures fill five entire photo albums. They made everything more tolerable, and even fun, when you allowed it to be. Of course, you would have never told them that, back thenâyou liked your cold exterior and the way they saw right through it.Â
Setting down your suitcase by your bed, you decide to go through the photo albums you assiduously filled back in high school instead of putting your things away. Itâs a better way to settle in and get yourself readyâyour nerves dissipate as you flip the pages, bright pictures blink up at you, of your friends at each othersâ houses, at the park on weekends, at the corner store after school. Youâre not in many of the pictures, usually hidden behind the camera, exaggeratedly frowning when Jaeyun managed to pry it from your hands and forced you in the frame.
He never heeded your protests when he wanted to swap places so you could be in the pictures you so often took. You remember the puppy eyes heâd make at you, which had no business being so effective, and the way heâd rest his larger hands on yours on the camera. Too unaccustomed to the feeling of your heartbeat speeding up, you would quickly hand it over to him then, turning away from him so he wouldnât see the obvious effect his touch had on you. It didnât help that heâd always show you the photo afterwards, pointing at you on the small screen, grinning as he said, âSee? You look pretty,â even though fear of being unphotogenic wasnât the reason you didnât like your picture to be taken.
Soon, your anxiety at seeing your friends and ex-classmates, after so long of making yourself unavailable to them, is almost entirely gone, replaced by excitement. There remains a pang of shame, especially at the thought of seeing Chaewon. How long had it been since youâd called her when you received that wedding invitation? Like Jaeyun, you know she wonât even be really mad, and that makes it worseâshe might make a light-hearted quip about it, but itâs as though theyâre scared that lecturing you about being MIA might only push you away further.
You tell yourself thereâs nothing to be scared about. The people youâll see tonight are but older versions of the people smiling at the camera, at you, in your photo albums.Â
You flip to a picture of you and Jaeyun taken without your knowledge, by Yunjin, if you remember correctly. Both of you sport wide smiles, the neon lights of the arcade game you were playing reflecting on your faces. It was his phoneâs home screen for ages.
Youâre so immersed in this trip down memory lane that you lose track of timeâwhen the front door opens and your aunt calls out your name, two hours have passed already. Pushing your awkwardness to the side, you let her hug you and repeat her words back to her when she tells you she missed you. You did miss her, but you only realize it once the familiar scent of her hair. Sheâs a creature of habitâshe still uses the shampoo she used when you first moved here at fourteen.Â
She was only twenty-six back then, younger than you are now. You donât know if you could deal with a temperamental, grieving teenager while youâd just lost your sister yourself.Â
âHow was the trip down? Iâm sorry I couldnât come and get you at the airport. I sent Jake instead, I figured you wouldnât mind if it was him,â she rattles, already filling the kettle for tea. This is so like her, saying a million things at once, always busying herself with something. You know that in an hour, when you leave for Chaewonâs house, sheâll settle herself on the couch and wonât leave it for the remainder of the evening, drained from her shift at the hospital.Â
âIt was fine, I didnât have any problems with my flight,â you reply, taking the knife from her hands and taking over the apple-cutting. âThere was an emergency at work?â
She sighs. âYeah, you know how weâre so understaffed in the summer. Some teenagers were messing around in a house under construction, and fell through a floor that wasnât done. No big injuries, but they needed an extra person to deal with parents and paperwork. At least I got to see these little shits get the talking-to of their life,â she says, making you laugh. She reaches for something in the cupboard, pulls out a packet of your favorite chocolate-flavored snacks from back then. âI got you these, if you want.â
âWow, I havenât eaten these in ages,â you say, chuckling at the familiar cartoon turtle on the bag.
âDo you not like them anymore?â
âNo, no, I do,â you say quickly to make your auntâs worried expression go away. âI just canât eat a bag in one sitting like I used to anymore, and they go stale too soon.â
She chuckles. âThatâs being an adult for you. I got a stomachache from a can of Coke the other day. Just one.â
You have time to spare before you need to start getting ready for Chaewonâs, so you sit at the dinner table together and catch up. The conversation floats somewhat on the surface of things, more about what youâve been doing than how youâve been doing. Youâre overly polite, keeping a distance for her sake more than your own, unsure how happy she really is to have you hereâand you have the feeling she thinks the same of you. The memory of your last fight hangs heavy in the air between you two, unspoken but tangible.
Itâs been easier talking to her since you moved away than it ever was when you lived here. You guess distance really does make the heart grow fonder, more willing to forgive and make amendsâthat, and growing up. Even after your fight, which you quickly understood had only happened because you let your emotions get the best of you after seeing Jaeyun in such a dishevelled state from losing his grandmother, you can have a normal conversation like this. Itâs a far cry from the silence that could stretch on for days when you were in high school.
Like with most dreaded things, you belatedly realize how much time you wasted stressing out about coming home, when there was nothing to worry about. Your mind had made up all sorts of scenarios, like your aunt would start yelling at you the moment you came through the door, rehashing your argument, or would barely give you the time of day during your entire stay. Itâs as though you forgot she was always the one who knocked on your door with a slice of takeaway pizza or a piece of buttered toast when you were being moody and wouldnât come down to eat. Who took you out for ice cream when she felt bad for being so caught up in work youâd hardly seen her all week. Who recorded your Saturday evening dramas on the TV while you were over at a friendâs house.
Youâve still got some talking to do, but it might not be as hard as you thought it would.
Fresh out of the shower, youâre changing into a nicer outfit and putting on light makeup when a text from Jaeyun lights up your phone. Heâs asking if you want a ride from him, which you declineâyour auntâs house is out of his way and itâs only a ten-minute bike ride for you, which you find yourself quite excited to go on, for purely nostalgic reasons.
Ok :) Iâll see you later, he texts back, and your stomach twists with both apprehension and giddiness. Having him there will make things so much easier, and yet the thought of spending prolonged time in his vicinity makes you unreasonably nervous.
Itâs just Jaeyun, you tell yourself, the guy who drooled on his textbook when he fell asleep in class. Who never got mad unless, in true soccer player fashion, felt another player had committed an unforgivable offense against him. Who insisted on watching horror movies then spent them with his face behind his hands.
You catch yourself smiling in the mirror and shake your head.
It really does feel like youâve been transported back to ten years ago as you wish your aunt a good evening and hop onto your bike, still in its same spot, resting against the side of the house, then ride down the streets youâll always know by heart. Gimcheon is at its prettiest during this time of year, the trees plump, their leaves dark green, the flowers bright. The summer evening breeze is warm on your skin, and the sun, low in the sky, casts a beautiful golden light on everything around you.
Itâs not long before you reach Chaewonâs houseâitâs still amazing to you how you can stand in front of it and say, yes, my friend owns this house. It actually belongs to herâand her fiancĂ©, Jaemin, of course. You donât know of a single person your age in Seoul who owns their apartment, except for Minjeong, but sheâs just exceptionally well-off. Itâs a nice, traditional house, with a wooden porch around the front where you know Chaewon, a Korean Nara Smith if youâve ever met one, will make gochujang and soy sauce from scratch once sheâs less busy with work and wedding preparations.Â
The gate is ajar, so you slide it further and let yourself in, calling out your friendâs name tentatively. Immediately you hear footsteps from inside the house, Chaewon squealing your name before she comes barrelling through the door and running towards you. She practically flings herself at you, and you stumble back a few steps as you catch her, laughing at her enthusiasm.
âUgh, Iâm so happy youâre finally here!â she exclaims, squashing the side of her face onto yours.
âIâm happy to be here, too,â you reply, chuckling. âThank you for the heartfelt welcome.â
Hands on your shoulders, she leans back, assesses you head-to-toe. You follow her gaze, wondering if the mid-thigh sundress you chose was a good decision. Is it too much cleavage? At your all-female workplace, there is no such thing as too much cleavage. âYou look good.â
âOkay, no need to sound so surprised.â
âIâm not!â she says, laughing. âOkay, a little bit, Iâm sorry. I thought youâd look all dishevelled like those busy city girls in the movies. Running around, getting coffee, whatever it is city people do. Thatâs what you look like when you FaceTime me after work.â
You sigh. âThatâs great to hear, Chae, thanks.â
âNo, donât take it the wrong way, itâs hot! But itâs nice to see you like this, with your hair down instead of your buns so tight they snatch your eyebrows.â
You frown. âI like my tight buns.â
âSo do I,â she says, tapping your butt with a cheeky smile. Before you can protest, she takes your hand and leads you into the house. âCome on, weâve made some changes inside, let me show you.â
âAm I the first person here?â you ask. The house is empty save for you and her, and probably Jaemin, somewhere.
She smiles at you mischievously. âOf course. Weâre going to catch up first. And who the hell starts a party at 6 p.m. anyway?â
Chaewonâs presence is everywhere around her house, from the white gauze curtains that flutter in the wind to the trinkets that line the shelves of a cupboard passed down onto her from her grandparents. There are new pieces of furniture here and there, and a nice patterned rug in the living room, but the biggest change has been done to the kitchen. Itâs been fully renovated to be more modern since you were last here, and itâs fully functional now, with everything she needs to make her homemade bread and her thousand side dishes that accompany every one of her meals. Itâs a good thing Jaeminâs a nice personâyou staunchly believe that not many people are deserving of the kind of care Chaewon is able to provide. You remember making that very clear when you came to visit for the holidays, and got a little too drunk with Chaewon for New Yearâs Eveâyou canât recall exactly what you said to him, but he could hardly look you in the eye for the remainder of your stay, so it mustâve left an impression.
Thereâs barely an inch of free space on the counter, and the fridge isnât faring much better. All sorts of salads and dips, meat and vegetable skewers, marinating chicken thighs, and of course, cupcakes. Tons of cupcakes. She doesnât let you lingerâJaemin walks into the kitchen, and youâve barely hugged him hello and exchanged niceties with him that sheâs already dragging you someplace else, telling rather than asking her fiancĂ© to finish getting the food ready.
She sits you down on a chair outside then heads back in, telling you sheâll be right back. It gives you some time to admire her backyard, the way itâs all been set up for tonight, cute cushions on the patio sofas, fairy lights strung in the trees, ribbons on the fence around her vegetable patch. Even back in high school, she grew green onions and avocados on the window sill of her parentsâ kitchen. Youâre excessively moved knowing that she has a whole garden to tend to now. Itâs so easy to picture her, wearing a sunhat as she waters and adds soil to her plants.Â
When she comes back out, itâs with two glasses of suspiciously pink liquid in her hands. She sees your weary expression and says, âDonât worry, you can barely taste the alcohol in it.â
âThatâs exactly what Iâm worried about,â you reply, but take a sip anyway. God knows youâre going to need some liquid courage to face tonight. Itâs overly sweet, tasting mostly of strawberry syrup, and almost not at all of the vodka and prosecco Chaewon says she put in. Fine with you.
She launches straight away into her usual interrogation. Itâs less daunting, because you can expect itâevery reunion with Chaewon means sheâs going to have a thousand questions for you if you donât turn the subject around on her at some point. She wants to know all of the office gossip as though she has personal stakes in who your coworkers are dating and what the workplace dynamics are like. She asks about your daily life, your friends, whether youâre seeing anyone.
âIâd have told you if I had a boyfriend, Chae,â you say.
She shrugs, a little sheepish. âI donât know. Thereâs lots of things you donât tell me about, you knowâŠâ
There it is, the sharp pang of guilt in your stomach. The summer breeze suddenly feels cold on your bare skin, the stillness of the countryside oppressive. Up until now, it felt like barely a few weeks had passed since youâd last seen Chaewon, but reality catches up to you now, with its distance and silences, the ones you imposed between the two of you. âIâm sorry,â you say quietly.
âNo, Iâm not mad!â she exclaims, panicked. âIâm just saying, I donât know so much about your life anymore, so this could be something I donât know about either⊠Iâm making this worse, arenât I?â she asks when she sees the pained look on your face.
You shake your head. âYouâre right, though. I know I should call more often, I justâŠâ
âWant to put this all behind you, I get it. You always talked about wanting to go back to Seoul in high school, so Iâm happy youâre able to thrive there now,â she says, although thereâs an edge to her voice that you know means sheâs more hurt than she wants to let on.
âBut it isnât fair to you.â
She shrugs again. When she looks at you, thereâs a small smile on her face that looks a little too forced. For as long as youâve known her, Chaewon has been wholly averse to conflictâthis is probably the hardest sheâll scold you for being so absent. But because itâs from her, itâs an effective reminder to be a better friend.
You canât help but put everything and everyone here in the same corner of your mind. You thought that to move on from one person, youâd need to move on from everyone, even Chaewon. You can only hope itâs not too late to start realizing how much of a fool youâve been.
âLook, I didnât get you all the way here to talk about this. I just wanna know how youâve been.â
âIâve been good, Chae, really. And now itâs your turn to present your life to me in excruciating detail.â
She chuckles and says, âFine, but weâll need a refill for this.â
âWhat? Has it been bad?âÂ
In the doorway, she turns around to look at you. âOh, not for me. My lifeâs been so awesome that youâll need to drink your jealousy away, babe.â
And indeed, when she comes back and tells all about her life recently with a dreamy look in her eyes, it isnât that youâre jealous per se, but that you realize this is the life a lot of people wish forâmarried with a nice house before thirty, and children soon, if you know her at all. And you agree these things sound nice, but theyâre not what you want for yourself right now. Sure, there have been hurdles: her parents-in-law are pretty conservative, but Jaemin always stands up for her, and her job as an elementary school teacher can be very tiring, but, she says, âhaving someone like him to come home to makes everything so much easier.â Sheâs always had a sentimental streak to her, but this close to the wedding, you can tell her love for Jaemin has never been so strong. Youâre reassured to see it doesnât stop her from ordering him around as usual, or scolding him when he puts the chocolate sprinkles on top of the blue frosted cupcakes even though she told him at least a million times that the star-shaped sprinkles went on those.Â
âBut the star-shaped ones taste like nothing, honey,â he says. You shake your head even if he canât see you. Chaewon gasps like he just told her to go fuck herselfâand in her eyes, itâs probably as though he has.
As much as she hates arguments, this is something sheâd lay her life down for. She heads into the kitchen to give him a piece of her mind, leaving you to reflect over her words. It makes everything so much easier. You do wonder what that must feel like, to have someone to come home to after a long day instead of a silent glass of wine. At least the wine canât judge you.
The two glasses of Chaewonâs pink mixture must really be getting to your head, because when she sits back down next to you, face flushed from a heated conversation about sprinkles, you find yourself telling her whatâs on your mind. âIâve almost had that a couple times, you know. Someone to come home to,â you say, feeling her gaze on the side of your face as you keep yours on the garden in front of you. âI did tell you about some of the guys I dated.â
âYeah, and you always seemed super unfazed about the break-ups.â
âI was. I always expected it to end one day or another, so I wasnât so surprised when that day came.â Her hand on your forearm is warm, anchoring, silently telling you that itâs okay to go on. âItâs not that I donât want that life. But whenever they started talking about meeting their parents, or moving in together, let alone get married⊠It just freaked me out. The idea of someone being so close to me, eventually knowing so much about me. Howââ You interrupt yourself, taken aback by the tears you feel pooling in your eyes. You turn to look at Chaewon, and something in her expression, in the familiarity of her features, makes you take a deep breath and keep talking. This is Chaewon. She wonât make fun of you for crying. âHow do you do it, Chae? How do you trust someone to still love you when they know about all the worst sides of you?â
âOh, honey,â she whispers, standing up to wrap her arms around you. A few silent tears stream down your cheeks, hopefully not staining her dress, as you hug her back tightly. âWhat about me? Minji, Yunjin? What about Jaeyun?â
Her voice seems to soften on his name, or maybe itâs your heart that softens upon hearing it. A part of you thinks he may be at fault for your unsatisfactory love lifeâknowing heâs out there makes it harder to fall for someone else. But thatâs something you couldnât admit to Chaewonâyou can barely admit it to yourself as it is.
âIâm sorry,â you say, sniffling against her shoulder. âI shouldnât be doing this today, of all days.â
She shushes you. âNo, no, itâs okay. Iâm glad youâre letting it out. Listen.â She crouches in front of you, brushes away strands of your hair that got stuck in your wet eyelashes. âThereâs nothing monstrous about you that would drive anyone away. Youâre more cautious than most of us when it comes to relationships, and thatâs okay. It just means that when you finally do give your heart to someone, theyâll be all the more deserving of it. And I promise you that someone is out there.â She smiles, adding, âMaybe closer than you think.â
âWhatâwhatâs that supposed to mean?â
âCome on,â she says with a laugh, unfolding from her crouch and holding her hand out to you. âYour makeupâs all messed up. Iâll help you fix it before everyone else gets here.â
In her upstairs bathroom, she pushes off all the clothes laying haphazardly on an armchair and instructs you to sit there. With four cocktails between the two of you, everything becomes funnyâyouâre both laughing so hard at the shape of her mascara tube that it takes her five minutes to properly apply the makeup to your lashes. She keeps scolding you for scrunching your eyes in laughter and stopping her from doing her job, as if sheâs not the one who canât see through the tears in her eyes. âNow my mascaraâs running!â she complains when she sees her reflection in the mirror.
Like little girls playing around with their motherâs beauty products, she applies eyeshadows of all colors on your lids, tries out a different lipstick on each half of your lips to see which one fits you best. You look ridiculous, but youâd probably let her keep going for hours if it wasnât for the sudden ring of the doorbell. You both freeze mid-laughing fit as if the whole point of this evening wasnât for people to come over, the blush brush in Chaewonâs hand floating inches from your cheek.
âWho is it?â you whisper, unable to tell who it is from the voices mixing with Jaeminâs downstairs.
âSounds like Jeno and his new girlfriend,â she whispers back. âYou havenât met her. Sheâs way too cool for him.â
âAs are all of Jenoâs girlfriends.â
Chaewon nods. Before she can say anything else, Jaeminâs voice rings out in the house, calling out for her. âBe down in a minute!â she shouts back, then turns to you. Her energy seems to have shifted from when you were laughing around together when she says, âLetâs get this off you. I made you look a little crazy.â
As she douses a cotton pad with makeup remover, you ask her quietly, âAre you okay?â
With the cotton over your eyes, you canât see her expression, but youâve known her long enough to picture it. The tight lips, the slightly furrowed eyebrows. âIâm okay, just a little nervous,â she says. âItâs been a while since weâve had this many people over at once.â
Your surprise only lasts a secondâalthough Chaewon had appeared nothing but excited every time you talked about this weekend, you remember how sheâd grow anxious in the last moments before any party she threw. You take the cotton pad from her hands, holding onto her wrist as you look earnestly into her eyes. âItâs going to be an amazing evening, Chae. Youâre the best hostess in this town. The food looks great, as it always does, and everyoneâs going to be ecstatic to see each other again. And to congratulate you! Youâre getting married in two days!â
A small smile was forming on her lips as you spoke, but itâs the mention of her wedding that really seems to do the trick. âI am,â she says quietly, smiling down at her feet like a giddy schoolgirl.Â
âAnd your fiancĂ©âs waiting downstairs for you. Along with Jeno and his cool girlfriend.â
She sighs deeply. âYouâre right. Iâve been busy all day getting everything ready, and now that thereâs nothing left to do, Iâm panicking.â
âThereâs no reason to,â you tell her, squeezing her wrist warmly. âGo. Iâll take care of my makeup.â
With a quick hug, Chaewon thanks you and heads downstairs. In the mirror, it really does look like a small child had far too much fun on your face. Wiping it all off with her cleansing oil and digging through her pouch for liner and a lip tint, you remember all the evenings spent at your auntâs house, her combing through your closet before a party because your aunt let you buy little tops that her parents would have a seizure seeing her wear. For once, the roles are reversed.Â
Calming her down has had the same effect on your nerves, although the heavy doses of vodka and prosecco in the cocktails mightâve helped. Your heart is only slightly beating faster than usual as the doorbell rings again, the voices of more people filling Chaewonâs and Jaeminâs living room. For some reason, youâre worried that coming downstairs as theyâre all greeting each other will be more awkward than meeting them out in the backyard, so you wait until it sounds like theyâve left the room. But your plan isnât so successfulâyouâre halfway down the stairs when the door opens again, the person entering seemingly familiar enough to this house to come in without announcing their presence. Your body registers the sight of him first, heart dropping to your stomach, electricity reaching all the way to your fingertips before his name has even made its way to your brain.
âJaeyun,â you breathe out, the wind knocked out of you as though you didnât see him mere hours ago and as though you were unaware of his being here tonight. What is wrong with you? Are you sure Chaewon didnât lace your drinks with something else?
His smile has the power to reassure you and double your nerves all at once. He waits for you, watching as you make your way down the remaining stairs. âLong time no see,â he says when you reach him, an infuriatingly charming grin on his lips. You canât bite back the one growing on your own. âI hope you didnât miss me too much.â
âIt was a struggle, but I made it through.â
He chuckles, and a few seconds pass in which you donât quite look at each other; youâre about to offer to join the others in the yard, but he speaks first. âYou look beautiful.â Three simple words, but coming from Jaeyun, and spoken with that low, intimate tone, they pack a punch.
You hope you donât look too obviously flustered as you gaze down at yourself, picking up the hem of your dress and rubbing the fabric between your fingers self-consciously. âThanks, Yun,â you say, voice barely above a whisper. You give yourself a few seconds to assess him, and the conclusion you come to doesnât help your stateâyouâve seen him wear white button-ups dozens of times before, at school events and fancy gatherings, but you swear his arms didnât always fill out the sleeves so perfectly, straining ever so slightly against the fabric. And sure, not having it buttoned to the top is fine, but are three undone buttons really necessary? You stop yourself from making a comment about cleavage and return his compliment instead. Then, with a frown, you tell him the others are already outside and turn on your heels.
Behind you, you hear a chuckle, then the sound of his footsteps following you. You thought itâd be nice to have Jaeyun around, a familiar and reassuring presence to look for if you ever felt awkward or out-of-place tonight, but it turns out it might be more distressing than anything.
Outside, all the newcomers, save for Jenoâs girlfriend, greet you with wide, surprised smiles, like they canât believe you actually made it all the way here. Most of your old classmates have stayed in the areaâone has gone abroad, a few have moved to Daegu, the closest big city, but for the most part, they either still live here or in nearby, somewhat larger towns with more job opportunities. Thatâs why theyâve remained such a tight-knit circle, why everyone knows everyoneâs business, and why you were much more nervous than anyone should be at the idea of going to their high school reunion. Your distance is all the more obvious by their lack thereof.Â
No one is showing you open hostility like in the worst-case scenarios youâd dreamed up, so you must be doing a good job at smiling and catching up with them and being normal with your hands, although you gladly accept the champagne glass Jaeyun hands you, thankful for something to keep them busy. And you find that itâs nice to be here. Itâs nice to know Yurim and Jimin are as inseparable as ever and are planning to do the whole baby-at-the-same-time thing (once they manage to both find a boyfriend). Itâs nice to see Jeno start to look less like a nerd over time, but that he hasnât lost his ability to bag the most beautiful women youâve ever met, like Giselle, who he very proudly introduces you to, and who is indeed way cooler than him. She volunteers at the animal shelter in her free time and DJs for huge techno clubs in the city on the weekend, so to be fair, sheâs cooler than most people.
As more people start trickling in, instead of retreating into yourself, you relax. The weather is perfect, the sun making its slow, lazy descent into the night, a warm summer breeze coming through; people are happy to be here, to see each other, to see you; when Chaewon isnât frantically running around, making sure that everyone is doing okay and that there are enough mini-fours to go around, she actually looks like sheâs enjoying herself.
And thereâs Jaeyun. Itâs not that you mean to notice him, but your gaze keeps drifting to him of its own volition. He moves through the crowd with ease, clearly surrounded by people heâs comfortable with, always being pulled into conversations or making small talk with everyone he bumps into. His eyes seem to find yours often, and every time, he smiles at you like he knows something you donât. Instead of quickly turning away like he used to as a teenager, unashamed at getting caught, his eyes linger on your face before slowly returning to whoeverâs talking to him.
Thereâs a really annoying moment when heâs standing by the barbecue, keeping Jaemin company while he grills sausages and skewers, holding a bottle of beer in one hand, talking and laughing seemingly without a care in the world, as though he doesnât know, or care, how infuriatingly hot he is. Hair pushed back from his forehead, a slight blush on his cheeks from the heat of the grill, that stupid third button still popped open. He looks like he was taken straight from the front cover of a menâs magazine, and it shouldnât be this attractive, but it is, and thereâs nothing you can do about it but down the rest of your champagne glass.
Somethingâs different about him. Despite having seen him over the years, all this time, whenever youâve thought of Jaeyun, the person who came to mind was fifteen, sixteen, seventeen. A little shy, especially around girls, but with a smile that could charm a rock and that he hadnât yet discovered the power of. The pant legs of his school uniform were a little too long because he was sure heâd have one last growth spurt in your final year of school after seeing Heeseung go through one. He never did, then couldnât be bothered to exchange them or get them hemmed. They got soaking wet every time it rained. Of course some things have remained unchangedâheâs still as attentive as always, remembering small things about people, asking them about it, and listening with genuine interest when they answer. He doesnât try to make things about him, and he doesnât get annoyed when they ramble on for minutes on end without ever returning a question. Itâs hard to pinpoint exactly what it is that feels so new about him, so unfamiliar in this exciting, intriguing way.
After observing him through careful, discreet glances (which he seems to notice half of), you come to the conclusion that itâs in the way he carries himself. He stands straighter, walks with more confidence, and has figured out what to do with his arms. Heâs always been a human magnet: old ladies made conversation with him in grocery lines, strangers stopped him in the street for directions, he was elected class president every year without ever putting himself forward. You remember the pressure he used to feel because of it, like he couldnât bear to let anyone down although he was sure itâd inevitably happenâbut now, he seems completely at ease with all this attention on him. Not like heâs gloating, but like heâs in his element.
Eager to avoid his gaze and the dreadful feelings it causes in you, you move around the backyard as often as he does under the guise of catching up with as many as you can, always managing to be part of a different group than he is. And you drink. Everyone does, so youâre not embarrassing yourself on your ownâitâs a known fact that Chaewon can and will feed an army, so her guests bring tons of alcohol to make up for all her efforts. Your glass never goes empty for long simply because no one lets itâyou could refuse, but you donât.Â
You spend thirty minutes stuffing yourself with Chaewonâs cucumber salad and getting all the staff drama of your old school from Yunjin, who now works there as an English teacher. When sheâs done telling you about the affair between the vice-principal and your Year 11 Geography teacher, she takes you aback by asking, âSo, whatâs up between you and Jaeyun?â
Back in high school, people often mistook you for a couple or joked around about you liking each other, so you do as you did thenâyou laugh it off, saying thereâs nothing there. That doesnât seem to satisfy Yunjin, however. She tilts her head at you, asking, âAre you sure? He seems so⊠attentive to you. Just now at the buffet he stopped you from getting the potato salad because thereâs mustard in it. And in high school he was always running around doing things for you. All the girls were jealous of you.â
Your smile feels frozen, plastered on as you stare down at your plate. âThatâs just Jaeyun. Heâs nice to everyone, it doesnât mean anything.â
âY/N,â a voice says, but it definitely does not belong to Yunjin. Not only does it come from behind you, itâs also much too deep to be hers. When you lift your head, sheâs looking right over your shoulder, surprise written all over her features. You turn around to find Jaeyun standing there, handing you a hot dog. âDelivery,â he says, tone light, but his closed-off expression betrays him. You donât know how much of your conversation he heard, but he mustâve not liked it. Youâre not sure whyâitâs not like you lied. Jaeyun is nice to everyone.Â
You bite into the bread. It has all of your perfect toppings for a hot dogâketchup, fried onions, shredded cheddar and jalapeños. When Yunjin leans towards you, a hand on your arm as she says, âI donât think it doesnât mean anything,â you wonder if sheâs right.
A few drinks later, youâre stumbling inside the house, headed for the bathroom, when a hand wraps around your wrist. It belongs to none other than Jaeyun, whose expression is a mix of amusement and concern. Now that all the foodâs come out, the kitchen is dark, bathing in the fairy lightsâ glow from outside and from the few other lights in Chaewon and Jaeminâs garden. And itâs empty, save for the two of you. Itâs only the copious amounts of alcohol running in your blood that makes you think how enticing he looks in this semi-darkness, or that makes you imagine the affection you think you see in his eyes.
Of course youâd spend all evening avoiding him only to find yourself face-to-face alone with him suddenly like this. You look down at his fingers on you, and he lets go.
âHere.â With his other hand, he offers you a glass of water.
âIâm good,â you say, trying to sound casual, but you donât like the close attention heâs paying you. Or maybe youâre embarrassingly drunk and heâs sending you a message. In any case, itâs always been hard for you to accept Jaeyunâs small gesturesâyou always have to remind yourself heâs doing it out of the goodness of his heart and not because he especially cares about you.Â
âY/N.â The way he says your name makes lightning zip down your spine. His voice is stern, but thereâs a certain warmth to it. Like youâre being unreasonable, but cutely so.Â
You take the water from his hands and down it in one go. âHappy?â
âVery,â he says, a smirk on his lips that you frown at as he takes the cup back and places it in the sink. He rests his hands behind him on the counter, eyes searching your face, and you, for some reason, stand there and let him instead of going to the bathroom like youâd originally set out to do. Even as silence stretches out between you, your feet are frozen, and youâre finally courageous enough to meet his gaze without backing down. Even as his eyes scan your face, settling on your lips, and your heart threatens to give out. Even as he takes a step towards you and your chest starts visibly heaving up-and-down with every breath you take.
When heâs standing in front of you, he finally speaks, his voice unlike youâve ever heard it beforeâlow, vulnerable, and with a hint of ruggedness that makes your head spin. âHave you been avoiding me?â
âNoââ
âDonât lie to me, Y/N, please.â He sounds like heâs seconds away from pleading with you. Heâs never been one to hide when heâs hurt, so youâve heard him many times like this, but never when you were the cause of his upset. It was always because of a bad grade, a fight with his parents, a joke he took the wrong way. You wouldnât know if you ever hurt him before, because heâs never come to you about it. It feels weird knowing youâre capable of such a thing.
âIâm nâOkay, yes, Iâm avoiding you a little bit,â you say in a small voice. Whether itâs the look on Jaeyunâs face or the last cocktail you had, but you canât bring yourself to pretend.Â
But you belatedly realize that of course, answering this question will only bring about another, much harder to answer: âWhy?â
So you make up another lie thatâs about as believable as the first one. âIâI donât know, Yunnie. Iâm just trying to speak to as many people as I can.â
âBut not me?â
Is he drunk? He always got whinier after drinking. That must be it. Although his voice isnât whiny at allâheâs not complaining, he rather sounds like he has answers he wants from you and is set on getting them. But itâs the only explanation you can come up with.
Youâre unable to keep his gaze anymore. Looking down at the floor, you say, âWe spoke earlier. Weâre speaking now.â
âYeah, and I practically had to corner you for it.â The vulnerability has left his voice and he sounds⊠frustrated?Â
He crosses his arms over his chest, and despite yourself, your eyes follow the movement. Heâs rolled up his sleeves, letting out his forearms on full display for you. Thatâs an image you immediately need out of your head, so you make the mistake of looking up at his face again, only to be met with his jaw locked tight, his eyebrows slightly furrowed, and the intensity of his eyes staring right into yours.
Heâs allowed to be mad, but does he have to look so good doing it?
As if he wasnât close enough already, he takes another step towards you. It forces you to look up at him, and the sight of his face so near yours is devastating. You can already tell itâll haunt you for nights to come.
âDo I make you nervous, Y/N? Is that why you donât want to be around me?â
You inhale sharply, audibly, and the sound seems to amuse Jaeyun. The way he smirks down at you should be condescending, but he manages to make it impossibly attractive. Like he has you exactly where he wants youâwhich doesnât make any sense. You donât understand why heâs doing this, why itâd upset him that youâd rather talk to other people than to him, how heâs figured out the reason youâre avoiding him is the butterflies gnawing at your stomach every time your gazes intertwine. Heâs never done any of this before.
âNo,â you find yourself saying, but itâs an obvious lie to both of you. Youâre breathless uttering that one word, fingers shaking from the tension in your body and Jaeyunâs proximity.
Then he sighs, and the Jaeyun you know is returned to you. A little tired by your antics, maybe, but more worried than anything. âIâll take you home when youâre ready to go.â
âButââ
âNo buts. Just come get me when you want to leave.â And with that, he turns and heads back outside, leaving you to wonder what that was all about as you wobble your way to the bathroom.
When you come back out, you make a point of sitting in the empty lawn chair next to Jaeyun and joining the conversation heâs in. He smiles at you and you glare at him, feeling like a scolded child.
Maybe alcohol makes you a little immature.
Youâre having a grand old time listening to Jenoâs and Giselleâs travel stories, but as people slowly start making their way home, aware of the weekend full of festivities theyâve got ahead of them, dread sinks in. When the partyâs over, youâll be left alone with Jaeyun. Thankfully, thereâs enough alcohol left to throw another party, and you serve yourself a couple of very generous cranberry-vodkas to prepare yourself for later. Maybe if youâre passed out in Jaeyunâs car you wonât have to talk to him.
When the gardenâs really starting to empty out, you find a small moment during which Jaeyun is busy chatting with Jaemin and some other guys, and stealthily approach Chaewon to tell her youâll be on your way now.Â
âArenât you leaving with Jaeââ
You interrupt her with a hand to her mouth. Even though heâs across the yard from you, you donât want to risk it. âIâll see you tomorrow,â you whisper, then tip-toe your way around the backyard to the front of the house, where your bike waits for you. Somewhere deep in the back of your head, part of you has remained sober enough to tell you how bad an idea it is to bike home after drinking so much. You wouldnât run into many cars at this time of night, but itâll be dark, and the ditches are deep here.Â
But you couldnât have predicted for your best friend to betray you. Just as youâre succeeding on your third try to swing your leg over your bike, you hear her voice, clear as day, shouting, âJaeyun! Y/Nâs leaving without you!â
You swear he teleports over to you. You freeze, hoping that moving as little as you can will turn you invisible.
It doesnât work.
âWhat are you doing?â Jaeyun asks as he makes his way over to you. Youâre relieved when he doesnât sound annoyed, just concerned. He stands in front of you, two hands on your bike handle right next to yours. âI told you to come get me when you were ready. You canât go home on your own like this.â
âSure I can.â You try to hoist yourself up onto your seat, and immediately lose balance, stumbling to the side. Thankfully, Jaeyunâs hand finds your waist before you can fallâit steadies your body but not your heart.Â
âCome on, Y/N. Letâs get you to bed.â
Does he hear himself? Heâs just being a good friend, so why does he have to phrase things in such an intimate way, and make your heart go all pitter-patter like the sixteen-year-old you once were? Why does he have to speak to you in that low, affectionate tone of his, like youâre someone he canât help but take care of?Â
You take a deep breath, resigning yourself to your fate. âOkay.â
He helps you off of your bike and into his car. His hold on you is gentle but firm, and you try your very hardest not to think about whether this is how he would hold you in other situations. Before he can even turn on the ignition, you close your eyes and pretend to sleep. You hear him chuckle, then back out of Chaewonâs and Jaeminâs driveway. Once or twice, you hear him inhale as though heâs going to speak, but he seems to decide against it. A ten-minute bike ride makes for a very short car ride, and before you know it, heâs already pulling up in front of your auntâs house. You keep your pretense up as he walks around the car and opens your door, and youâre sure you make a very convincing show of waking up and being sleepy.
As he takes your hand to help you out of the car, you ignore your instincts yelling at you to jump away from him. You tell yourself itâs only so you don't get caught in your lie that you let him slip an arm over his shoulders and guide you to your front door. It has nothing to do with the fact that your skin tingles everywhere it touches his, or that it feels terribly nice to be handled with so much care and patience. The front door is unlocked, and he holds you steady as you slip out of your shoes. Only when he closes the door behind you do you snap out of it.
âThank you, Yun. Iâll be alright from here.â
He narrows his eyes at you. âIâm not sure you will. I donât trust you not to trip up the stairs.â
You panic as he leads you further inside the house. âButâWhat if my aunt sees us?â
He stops in his tracks, then turns his head to look down at you with something you think is mischief in his eyes. âWhy? What about it?â
âShe might misunderstand!â you whisper-yell.
âWhatâs there to misunderstand, Y/N? Iâve taken you home drunk a dozen times before. Besides, Iâm just Jaeyun, right? This doesnât mean anything.â Youâre left speechless. So he did hear you earlier, and although he kept his tone light-hearted, something makes you think he isnât entirely unoffended. You stare at him, sure the guilt on your face is obvious. Eventually, he sighs, starts walking again. âIâm just teasing you.â
Despite yourself, you are glad heâs there to help you up to your bedroomâthe stairs are remarkably wobbly tonight. Even though he tries to sit you down gently onto your bed, you let yourself flop on the mattress, already half-asleep the moment your back hits it. Youâre uncharacteristically pliant as he guides you into a more comfortable position, lifting your head to rest on your pillows, pulling your duvet over you. You somehow feel more drunk now than you were leaving the party, as though Jaeyunâs touch and proximity are stronger than any alcohol. Maybe thatâs why you suddenly find this situation hilarious. Your first chuckle makes Jaeyunâs hand freeze on your blanket; then, when giggles start pouring uncontrollably out of you, he asks you whatâs so funny, and has to shush you, saying youâll wake your aunt up. But you can tell heâs amused, and it only makes you laugh more.Â
âSeriously, whatâs gotten into you?â he asks, sitting next to you. For some reason, the dip of his weight on the mattress feels reassuring.
âThis is just nice,â you mutter, eyes still closed. âIt feels nice.â
Heâs silent for a few seconds. âWhat is?â he whispers.
âThis. You being here.â
He releases a shaky breath. âIt could happen more often, if you let me. It could happen every night.â
You giggle, because you know heâs just joking around. But you let him, even if it hurts a little bit, and you play along. âYeah, thatâd be nice. I think Iâd sleep a lot better.â
With a delicate finger, he brushes strands of hair away from your eyes. You hum, smiling contentedly at his touch. This is such a nice dream that you hope you wonât have to wake up too soon from. âI think I would, too,â he whispers, voice shaky like he isnât at all happy like you are, which confuses you. âI donât know what to do, Y/N. I want so badly to take care of you, but you wonât let me. I donât know how else to show you how good I could be to you.â
âYouâre taking care of me now.â
âYeah, and youâre so drunk you probably wonât remember this tomorrow.â
He sniffles, and you suddenly get the sensation that this isnât a dream at all. You keep your eyes closed anyway, frowning as you turn your head to the side, tears starting to form behind your eyelids.
âBe back in a minute,â he whispers.
You open your eyes to find him gone. You try to make sense of what just happened, but your thoughts are muddled and hazy, and more questions than answers appear. You donât come to any satisfying conclusions, at least none that arenât clearly fueled by your delusions concerning Jaeyun.Â
When he comes back, heâs holding a tall glass of water. He seems briefly surprised to see you awake. He puts the glass gently down onto your bedside table, then kneels by your bed, grabbing your hand that youâd slipped above the comforter. He looks into your eyes with an intensity youâre unfamiliar with coming from him, and that makes your stomach twist. âListen, Y/N. Youâre only here for a few days, so Iâll be very clear about this. And if youâve forgotten by tomorrow, Iâll make sure to remind you.â He pauses here, takes a deep breath. Thereâs a furrow in his eyebrows as he speaks. He looks desperate, but for what, you couldnât tell. âIâm not letting you go this time. I feel like I keep losing you, over and over again, just when I think I finally have you. Iâm not letting that happen again. I donât want to be apart from you anymore.â
Your mind is reeling. You feel dizzy. You close your eyes, but it doesnât help. Jaeyunâs words are loud and nonsensical in your head. âDo you mean⊠as friends?â you ask, because the other option seems so impossible, even in your inebriated state, you can hardly seriously entertain it.
He sighs, and it sounds like disappointment. âIf thatâs what you want, then Iâll give up on trying to be more. But if it isnât what you want, then no.â
Your eyes fly open. Does that meanâŠ
âIâm in love with you, Y/N. Iâve always been, and I canât take hiding it anymore. Iâll take rejection over another day of pretending all I want to be is your friend. I want to talk to you everyday. I want to see you more often. I canât keep going like this, calling you once every few months and acting like Iâm fine with it.â
Youâre stunned into silence. Even your thoughts are frozen, your mind completely blank. How do you react to words youâve wanted to hear your whole life, and have convinced yourself you never would, not in a million years?
âIââ
âYou donât have to say anything now,â he interrupts, and youâre relieved. âWhatever it is, Iâd rather hear it when youâre sober. Iâm sorry for springing this up on you, I just⊠I think I wouldâve flaked out if I hadnât done it right now.â
He gazes down at you with a fondness youâve only seen in your dreams, and strokes your hair. âIâll let you sleep now. Iâll see you tomorrow, okay?â
âOkay,â you say, surprised you're able to speak.Â
âOkay.â
He seems to hesitate for a second, but whatever it is, he decides against it. He gets up, and with one final glance back at you, closes your bedroom door gently. You listen for his footsteps down the stairs, the sound of the front door, and of his car driving away, and find yourself wishing heâd stayed, wishing for proof that you didnât dream up everything he just said.Â
.
.
Iâm in love with you, Y/N.
You wake with a start. Jaeyunâs voice was so loud in your head, you thought he was standing right over youâbut itâs only your imagination playing tricks on you, you realize with some disappointment.Â
Some moments from last night are blurry or simply inexistent in your mind. Yurim sent selfies a bunch of you took to the group chat, of which you have no recollection being a part of. You have no idea how the marker doodles appeared on your arm, nor who is the artist behind them. But Jaeyunâs words you remember with dizzying, intimidating clarity, the words he spoke to you in the near-complete darkness of this room, and that you donât think you could ever forget, no matter your state.
Part of you has always longed to hear those words, but another part has always dreaded they would be heard one day. You donât know which part is stronger right now. Replaying his voice in your mind, your heart flutters at the same time as your stomach sinks. Theyâre words that have the power to change everything, that perhaps already have, and thatâs what terrifies you.
Itâs already ten in the morning. You wish you could stay here all day, safe under the covers, rehashing those words until they lose all meaning, but you know thatâs impossible. Not only do you have a pounding headache and a mouth drier than the desert to tend to, more importantly, you have a responsibility to be there for Chaewon and the things sheâs planned for today. So you force yourself out of bed and begrudgingly make your way downstairs.Â
Your aunt has already left for work. Breakfast is ready on the dining table, along with a tall glass of water, ibuprofen, and a note that reads: I didnât hear you come home last night, so I assume you had a good time. Take this and eat your weight in bread. Thereâs coffee left in the Keurig. Bless her. You know better than to eat too much, thoughâif thereâs one thing Chaewon takes seriously, itâs brunch, so you know youâll have plenty of food to cure your hangover in just a bit.Â
As hard as you try to divert your thoughts towards anything else, itâs impossible not to think of what Jaeyun said last night. Itâs all your mind circles back to, like a vulture thatâs found its prey and wonât let go. Despite that, the shock has yet to wear off, and you stare into your cup of coffee, searching in vain for answers there.
It took you a while to fall for Jaeyun, then it took you even longer to admit those feelings to yourself. At fourteen years old, stepping foot in Gimcheon for the first time, you wanted nothing to do with the people here. Not with your aunt, not with your classmates. You wanted to wallow in your grief, for the bitterness of the injustice thatâd taken your parents away from you to fully take over you.Â
Jaeyun was one of the people who didnât let that happen. Some of the kids in your class found you odd or standoffish, often whispering behind your back about your sudden arrival in town, but he and Chaewon never failed to try and talk to you despite your extremely low-effort replies, to invite you out for snacks or basketball after class, to send you the lessons you missed on days your body felt too heavy to get out of bed.Â
Nothing in particular happened for you to suddenly change your mind about them. Maybe it was because you thought theyâd stop pestering you if you just said yes, or because you sometimes felt the sharp loss of your friends in Seoul, whose calls youâd all ignored since moving. You surprised your new classmates as much as yourself when they asked you if you wanted to go eat tteokbokki with them, and you casually said, âSure, why not,â as if your acceptance was a daily occurrence.Â
The rest was history. Although it took some more time before you really opened up to them, they accepted you the way you were, sharp edges and all. With them, part of the person you were before could resurface, carefree, happy. You still went home to a mostly silent, grief-stricken relative, who was practically a stranger to you, but at least you could look forward to seeing your friendsâand something as simple as that made life easier every day.
As soon as you thought they started to appear, you tried to squash your feelings for Jaeyun, to no avail. Just when you told yourself you could never be more than friends, heâd bring you strawberry milk from the convenience store he walks by on his way to school. After spending an evening making a list of all the reasons itâd be a bad idea for you to date (itâd be awkward with your friends, you and your sadness would be a burden to him, it was too scary to get close to someone when they could leave you at any time), youâd wake up the next morning with a text that said, Good morning!!!! Did you know that if the Sun stopped shining, itâd take 8.5 minutes for us to realize it??!Â
But I know right away when youâre not shining
:)
Momâs making your favorite shrimp jeon tonight so you HAVE to come over
And even your strongest will wasnât enough against the force of his kindness. You were forced to submit to it, and to suffer for it for years to comeâwhen other girls offered him chocolate on Valentineâs Day. When Bae Sumin asked him to the dance, and you had to ignore his concerned expression as he repeatedly asked you if it was really okay that he went, and all you could do was smile and convince him that it was. When you left for university and you had to stop yourself from asking why it seemed to be making him so sad, so uncharacteristically upset with you, almost like he wanted to punish you for leaving him. When every time you came back after that, it became harder and harder to say goodbye to him again.
You got mad at him sometimes. If something unexpected reminded you of your parents, like your momâs favorite dish being served at the cafeteria, or someone using an expression your dad often said, youâd become irritable, and would be unable or unwilling to explain why. He was so patient with you then, even more attentive to your mood than usual, but the feeling of being treated kindly, like he needed to walk on eggshells around you, incomprehensibly made you even more abrasive. Youâd blow up at him: I donât need your help, I donât need your pity, get off my back, what are you even being so nice for anyways?
And his reply would only drive you further insane: Because I care about you.
Youâd always wish heâd say anything else, something less vague like Because itâs the right thing to do, or Because thatâs who I am, or even Because youâre my friend, but no, heâd say, âBecause I care about you,â and it was worse than anything he could ever say.
Because of course, friends care about each other. Of course they help each other out and do kind things for one another. But you so desperately wished Jaeyun could care for you in another way. And that was the problem: you couldnât stop yourself reading into his actions, devoid of the meaning you wanted them to have.
And there was always that lingering thought: Iâm leaving anyway. You were a city girl at heart. You missed the beauty stores that occupied five floors, the animal cafĂ©s you and your friends had spent way too much of your allowance at, the billboards of your favorite celebrities in the subway, the libraries with their wide range of manhwas for you to choose from. As much as youâd come to love your life in Gimcheon, you knew you couldnât stay. You knew you couldnât live on a nearby campus during the week and come back on the weekends like most of your friends would be doing.Â
At eighteen years old, you wanted a clean break. You wanted to attend a prestigious university, to dress up for class, to have study dates at a cozy cafĂ©, to go out to a club on the weekend and not worry about how youâd get home because the buses stopped running way before midnight. Youâd daydream about the cool job youâd have, the cool clothes youâd wear, the cool people youâd meet. Then youâd go downstairs and see your aunt, and sheâd ask if you were okay with frozen dumplings for a third night in a row. Or youâd arrive at school and see Chaewon and Yunjin shrieking over Got7âs new song. Or youâd get a text from Jaeyun, saying, Cats use physics to land on their feet. Theyâre not aware of it though. And suddenly, the idea of a clean break became much, much harder.
Once you left, your reasons for not confessing to Jaeyun didnât changeâif anything, they strengthened. Growing up didnât make you any less scared of opening up to someone, of letting them see the vulnerable sides of you, and hoping theyâd still love you. Even if you had a positive example in Chaewon and Jaeyun, youâd never experienced it with a romantic partner, and not only did your incessant but unconscious comparing of them to Jaeyun stop you from completely falling in love with the few boyfriends youâve had over the years, your inability to fully bare yourself emotionally to them inevitably caught up to you. Theyâd point it out, trying to coax your story and emotions out of you with kind words, gentle touchesâbut you never wanted it enough to make the extra effort. Theyâd take your independence as a personal affront, like it was a fault on their part that you were allergic to relying on others. Theyâd get frustrated. Some of them would yell at you while you stared off into the distance, numb, wondering if youâd always be like this. Theyâd break up with you, and youâd move on like nothing happened.
The fear of loss still froze your heart into place. Even in the throes of puberty, your mother and father were your two favorite people on Earth. At thirteen, you thought theyâd live forever. You were reasonable enough to know not everyone you loved would dieâalthough the thought of going through that grief again did keep you up at night. A bad break-up was enough to terrify you. And what would you do when you finally handed your heart to someone, only for them to turn around and decide they donât want it after all?
A handful of times, you tried to sit yourself down and imagine, as objectively as you could, what might happen if you confessed your feelings to Jaeyun. You tried, but you never could. It was too scary, with him. As your friend, he was the glue that held you together. If you took that one step closer, youâd be too far goneâand once that happened, who was to say, when it inevitably ended, if youâd ever be able to tape yourself back together.
Youâve had many self-indulgent thoughts over the years, many delusions youâve had to compel yourself away from when he looked at you a little long, grew a little too quiet when you talked about another boy, came up with increasingly ridiculous excuses to walk you home even though it was out of his way. Youâve worked so hard to bury them deep, and here he comes, so late on a Thursday night that it became a Friday morning, telling you it was neither self-indulgence nor delusion.Â
Itâs too much to process with a hangover.Â
Your shower doesnât have the relaxing effect you hoped it would have on your nerves. Even when you turn the temperature as low as you can take it, your skin burns hot at the thought of seeing Jaeyun again, of him repeating himself in broad daylight. By the time youâve dressed and gotten ready, your heart is still racing wild, and youâre no closer to figuring out what the correct attitude around him or right thing to say is.
Youâre tying your shoelaces when the doorbell rings. Of course, itâs Jaeyun standing behind the door, asking you if youâre ready to go to Chaewonâs.Â
You just gape at him. Youâd prepared yourself mentally to see him a little later, with other people aroundâyou hadnât expected this and your brain simply malfunctions as a result.
He chuckles. âI wasnât going to let you walk all the way there. You left your bike, remember?â
From his softened tone and the way he gulps as he awaits your answer, you can tell heâs not just asking whether you remember the drive home. He looks at you, a little expectant, a little scared, and his demeanor relaxes you. Heâs not acting like nothing happened last night, and he doesnât seem overly confident afterâwell, after confessing his love for you. Thatâs what it was, wasnât it? No matter how hard a time you have believing it. It relaxes you because it feels like youâre not worrying alone about this shift in your friendship, about this rearranging of things and feelings. With just one look, he tells you heâs right there with you.
And thatâs all you need.
âRight. Thanks, Yun.â
He stands there for a little, expression morphing into something giddier, more hopeful, and you wonder how long heâd stay there looking at you if you didnât clear your throat and say, âShould we⊠go?â
âYes! Yes, of course, letâs go,â he says, laughing awkwardly, rubbing the back of his head as he turns away and heads towards his car.
Surely, he canât always have been this obvious. Surely, if heâs been in love with you for as long as he says he has, then he learned just as well as you did to school his feelings and make them as discreet as he could. Because if he was acting this way all along, all boyish grins and non-stop glances your way, then you wouldâve had to be the densest person on Earth not to notice.
And it hurts your pride a little to think you mightâve actually been this dense.
After a minute on the road, he asks, âHow are you feeling? Not too hungover?â
âA little. But Iâll feel a lot better after having some of Chaeâs pancakes.â
âYeah. And the pressed orange juice as well. With theââ
ââOranges from her grandparentsâ garden?â you say at the same time, and laugh.
âYeah. Itâs the best,â he says.
âWhat about you?â you ask. âYou didnât drink that much last night, right?â
âYep. Just a beer at the start of the evening, and thatâs it.â Then, he smiles, a little smug, and adds: âWhy? Were you watching?â
You scoff, crossing your arms over your chest as though he was making a ridiculous assumption, when you very well knew you were constantly aware of his whereabouts last night. Of course you noticed him sipping on either water or Pepsi the entire evening. âI was not. But you were able to drive, so I assumed.â
âRight.â That smug smile of his is still fixed on his lips, so you know you sounded just as unconvincing as you felt. âWell, I was watching. And I can tell you you drank something like seven different sorts of alcohol last night.â
For your own sanity, you ignore the first part, and focus on the second. You groan, hiding your face in your hands. âThatâs why my headacheâs so bad.â
Jaeyun reacts immediately. His head turns back-and-forth between you and the road ahead as he says, âIs it? Did you drink enough water? There should be some painkillers in the glove compartment, if youââ
âItâs okay, Yun,â you interrupt, laughing softly. âI took some ibuprofen already. Iâll feel better after eating.â
He seems skeptical. âOkay. But let me know if you need anything, yeah?â
âI will.â
As you feel the tingle of incoming tears in your eyes, you turn your head away from him. Looking out the passenger window, you think how stark the difference is between being on the receiving end of Jaeyunâs attentiveness when you were just friends, and now that you know the way he really sees you. The crushing weight of your repressed emotions is, at last, gone, and youâre only left with a light-heartedness you havenât felt in years.
Is there really a universe where every day is like this? It feels too good to be true.Â
But when Jaeyun reaches out, the palm of his hand facing up as it floats above your thigh, his expression bashful, you think â you dare to hope â you might soon be living in that universe. You take his hand, and the rest of the car ride is silent, like this one simple touch is all the words you need.
Youâre glad you remember what he told you last night. Hearing it again now, in broad daylight, with no alcohol in your system to be blamed for your reactions, would be too much to bear. The mere thought of it has your heart racing, more than it already is from the warmth of Jaeyunâs hand in yours. You look down at it, the way it sits so prettily in your lap, the way his fingers intertwine with yours like itâs what they were meant to do. You crave to touch his hand more, to turn it around and analyze the lines of his palm, to feel the ridges of his knuckles, the smoothness of his nails under your fingers, but you stop yourself. Itâs an art piece in a museum that you content yourself with watching from afar, awed.
Too soon, you arrive at Chaewonâs house. The loss of Jaeyunâs touch is almost alarmingâwhat if he changes his mind and this was the only time youâd get to do this?
But as though he can read your thoughts, he guides you with a hand to your lower back towards Chaewonâs and Jaeminâs front doorâand he pauses before it, gazing down at you with a smile you want to interpret as reassuring.Â
Iâm not letting you go this time. Iâm not letting that happen.
Maybe youâre overly self-conscious, but you swear a few of your old classmates exchange knowing looks when you and Jaeyun arrive together. Chaewon is the least discreet about it, stopping in her tracks when she sees the two of you, a steaming plate of pancakes in her hands, her smile wide as she gets Jaeminâs attention and nods her head in your direction. You want to escape to the kitchen under the pretense of offering your help, but Jaeyun is already pulling out a chair for you and taking a seat in the one next to it.Â
Thankfully, almost everyone is in a state similar to yours, too hungover and tired to really pay either of you too much attention. Their minds are on the food in their plates and the coffee in their mugsâthe atmosphere is relaxed, everyone making quiet conversation with their neighbors. With Chaewon on your right and Jaeyun on your left, youâre free to scarf down hash browns and scrambled eggs without having to entertain anyone. He seems to be pretty engrossed in his chat about soccer with Jeno, and yet, he knows every time you need something, standing up and reaching for the bacon or the orange juice before youâve even said anything. He holds the plate while you serve yourself, then places it back to its original spot, shooting you a smile that never fails to make your stomach twist before returning his attention to Jeno.
Chaewon had kept this afternoonâs activities a secret, only telling you all to have your school uniform ready. Some came to brunch already wearing it, but you and a few other girls go up to Chaewonâs room to change. It feels like being back in a locker room again, a bit awkward, a bit fun, teasing Yunjin for her matching black lace set on this seemingly innocuous day, comparing the stretch marks youâve obtained in the years since you last wore your uniforms.
Itâs definitely odd, seeing yourself in the mirror in that familiar short-sleeved white shirt and knee-length marine skirt. Despite how badly you wanted to grow out of Gimcheon, some things have remained the sameâthat much, youâre forced to admit to yourself when you head back to the living room and see Jaeyun in his old school uniform, a blast from the past. He watches you come down the stairs with a smile, and you wonder if heâs thinking the same things you areâthat youâve never stopped feeling like a teenager around him, and that no matter where you were in life, seeing him was enough to make your dull heart race.
His uniform still fits him okay, although itâs impossible not to notice how his arms and thighs strain against the fabric now, sleeves not quite reaching his wrists. Try hard as you might, your eyes drift to the way his button-up clings to his chest, and itâs clear he isnât oblivious to it. You swallow as you walk towards him, hands coming up to fix his tie like itâs second nature. âSeriously, Yun,â you mutter. âIt was cute when you were seventeen, but at twenty-eight, really?â
He only smirks down at you, making you more flustered than you already wereâand it doesnât help when everyone in the room oohâs at your gesture. You take a step back, but the damage has been done. Itâs like youâre in high school again, rolling your eyes at your friends when they ask if you and Jaeyun are finally dating, pretending like the mere thought doesnât have butterflies erupting in your stomach.Â
âI remember how Y/N used to fix his tie in front of the school gates every morning,â Chaewon says loudly, and you glare at her. âShe said she didnât want him to get scolded by teachers.â Everyone erupts in a chorus of so cute and I canât believe theyâre still not together and Iâm sure they used to have a crush on each other. She looks happy with herself, blissfully unaware of the chaos sheâs created for youâitâs been hard enough acting normally around Jaeyun this morning, you donât need the added spotlight.
He doesnât seem to share that sentiment, though. When he speaks, his voice cuts through the chatter. âMy dad taught me how to tie a tie before middle school. But I was running late once and she fixed it for me. I always messed it up on purpose after that.â He turns to you. Your jaw is slack, your heart a wild, frantic mess. âGuess that trick still works.â
This really is high school all over again. Your classmates act like theyâve witnessed the revelation of the century, cheering and clapping, the boys clasping Jaeyunâs shoulder like he just scored the winning goal. Chaewon squeals. Yunjin pretends to faint. Youâre rooted to your spot, too bewildered to react.
âSo you really did like her back then, didnât you?â Jeno asks, and everyone stops talking, awaiting Jaeyunâs answer with what seems like bated breathâyou included, as though he didnât tell you all about it last night.
He shrugs, but his grin, sheepish and bright at once, says it all. âIâll let you guys come to your own conclusions.â When he turns to look at you, despite the fact that you want to strangle him for putting you on the spot like this, you canât deny that his confession is a little bit â just a little bit â adorable. You think of fifteen-year-old Jaeyun looking at himself in the mirror, proud of himself for putting on his tie wrong, and you canât help but smile. Of course, this only makes your friends crazier, but Jaeyun, as if heâs suddenly decided this was enough attention, says, âIs everyone ready? Letâs head out now.â
Chaewon instructs you all to meet in your high school parking lot. On the drive over, Jaeyun apologizes, asking if what he did was too much.
âItâs okay,â you tell him. âEven if I was a little embarrassed.â
âI wasnât planning on doing anything like it, but seeing you in your uniform brought back memories, I guess,â he says, bashful. âI did say I would remind you of what I told you last night, didnât I?â
You shrug, smile down at your hands. âYou did. But itâs not like Iâd forgotten.â
He doesnât answer right awayâbut then, he suddenly looks over at you, and says, âYouâre really pretty.â
Your stomach flips. You look down at yourself to avoid his gaze as heat creeps up your face. âWhat are you sayingâŠâ you mutter.
âI never told you properly when we were in high school. So Iâm telling you now. I always thought you were the prettiest, Y/N.â
You fight it hard, but you canât bite back your smile. All you can do is hide your grin behind your fist, resting your elbow on the sill of the open window as you turn away from him. For only a brief second, as if spurred on by the confidence his compliment gave you, you change your mindâyou turn to him and abruptly say, âAnd I always thought you were the most handsome.â Then you whip back to the window and grin at the trees lining the road. But you feel his eyes on you, and when you look back at him, heâs staring at you, mouth agape. âYun! Look at the road!â you chide, laughing.
âSorry, sorry!â he exclaims, taking his eyes off you. âButâYouâSeriously?â
You canât believe it, how incredulous he sounds, how he seems as surprised as you felt last night. As you still feel now. âOf course,â you say quietly, feeling shy again.Â
Heâs quiet for a few seconds. Then, âSeriously?!â he repeats, louder, almost yelling.
âRelax,â you say, laughing at his enthusiasm. âItâs not like I was the only one. Half the girls in our class had a crush on you.â
âDid they?â he asks, a shit-eating grin on his lips. You roll your eyes.
âYou only received love letters, like, once a month.â
âBut never from the person I wanted to receive one from.â
You hold his gaze for a second. Then another, and anotherâbut you canât handle more than that. The way he looks at you, you feel too seen. Like he can read your every thought, like he can see your heart beating through your chest, your breath making its shaky way up your throat. It makes you too vulnerable, makes your desire to soak in his affection, to let him keep talking to you like this, too strong. Itâs a feeling too unfamiliar for you to accept yet.
You return to your spot, turned away from him, elbow on the windowsill. âWhatever,â you mumble.
But it seems like you admitting to having found him handsome when you were teenagers is all the confirmation he needs. Throughout the rest of the afternoon, he sticks close to your side. Since school is out for the summer, Chaewon asked Yunjin to convince her higher-ups to let your group have a ten-year high school reunion there. They agreed and got one of the janitors to act as your supervisor, as if you would damage or steal school property. In any case, he follows you around quietly while you and your classmates roam the old, familiar walls, reminiscing about all the stupid things you did, the gossip that felt like the most important thing in your lives at the time, the teachers you hated, the upperclassmen you crushed on. Mostly, you take loads and loads of pictures, reenacting memories, huddling together in front of the classroom door of your final year. Jaeyun always finds himself right behind you in the group pictures, his taller frame so close to yours you can feel his warmth.
He rests his hand on your shoulder for one of the photos, and your brain short-circuits at a touch that you wouldnât have thought about twice as a teenager. Sure, back then, Jaeyunâs touch made you feel giddy, but it was also the most natural thing in the world. Linking arms on the way home from school. Your head on his shoulder during a long bus ride. His fingers in your hair when you let him play around with it. He always said it was practice for his future daughter: âI want her to have the prettiest hairstyles in all of her school,â heâd say, as if she was already here. And youâd think to yourself, Heâll make such a great dad. And although he was someone you could tell anything to, for reasons you didnât like to think too much about at that time, this was something you kept to yourself. Now, you can hardly breathe from a hand on your shoulder. But now, you can also finally admit to yourself why that is.
And with every passing moment, every smile shared, every delicate touch of his hand to your arm, of your fingers brushing against each other, you think that maybe, just maybe, you might finally be able to admit to him why that is.
A while later, when everyone parts ways, heading home to get a few hours of rest before the big day tomorrow, Jaeyun asks you if you can hang back for a bit. Heâs so cute about it, so much like a schoolboy asking his crush out, that you canât turn him down despite the sleep you desperately need.
The soccer field by your school is surprisingly unoccupiedâeven at this time of year, when the school hallways are empty, there are usually teenagers playing here. You yourself used to spend entire afternoons here, chatting with Chaewon while the boys played soccer under the blazing sun. You remember pretending you werenât engrossed in the sweat beading on Jakeâs forehead or the way his cheeks turned crimson with the effort, and cheering for him whenever he scored a goal and turned towards you, yelling out âDid you see that?!â with that puppyish grin on his lips.
You remember the nights you spent here as well, the last summer before you left, when you and your friends wanted to drink without the adults seeing. Youâd lay side-by-side, looking up at the stars as you shared your dreams and fears for the future. If Jaeyunâs hand brushed against yours, youâd wait a few seconds, then move your hand to rest on your chest instead. You always wondered if he noticed it, the small touch, its removal. You know your hand burned with both.Â
He leads you to the soccer field now, his hand warm and gentle in yours, like heâs scared holding on too tight will scare you off. Heâs silent for a while, quietly bringing you down with him until youâre laying on the grass togetherâthis time, you keep his hand preciously in yours, even as your palms turn clammy, even as the memories of being here like this flood in.
The summer breeze has nearly lulled you to sleep when he speaks, his voice soft, careful not to startle you. âI hated the last day of school.â
You turn your head to look at him, but he keeps his eyes trained on the blue sky above. âOf course you did. You were such a nerd, you wouldâve stayed in school forever if you couldâve.â
He smiles, but he shakes his head. âNo, thatâs not it.â His tone is calm, full of significance, which you feel even more when he rests his steady gaze on yours. âIt meant time was running out. It meant Iâd spent five years liking you and still hadnât had the balls to tell you.â
You gulp. Youâre suddenly not in the mood to tease him at all. âOh,â is all you can manage to say.
He laughsâclearly, seeing you flustered is amusing to him. âYeah.â He props himself up on his elbow, gazing down at you in a way that sends your heart into a frenzy. âI got a little carried away last night,â he starts. âWhen Chaewon told me about her plans to dress in our school clothes and come here â yes, she told me before everyone else, donât look at me like that â Iâd planned to tell you today, I had a whole thing written out, but last night, you⊠I donât know, you were drunk so maybe I shouldnât have put so much weight to your words, but it sounded like you might like me back? And I couldnât stop myself. I had to tell you immediately. And today⊠Iâm not mistaken, right? You do like me?â
Tears prickle at your eyes. To think that this has been on his mind for so long, that youâre the reason behind the worried look on his face, that heâs the one asking for your confirmationâyou can hardly make sense of it all. If only youâd looked closer, if youâd been less scared, you mightâve been wearing this exact same outfit, laying in this exact same place, ten years earlier. This isnât to say that you arenât scared anymoreâyouâre terrified out of your wits. But looking into Jaeyunâs face, you donât need to search very long to find reassurance.
âI do, Yun. I really, really do.â
He only stares back at you for a few beats, as if waiting for you to change your mind, to tell him youâre joking. When you donât, his mouth breaks into a wide, radiant smile, and he lets himself fall on his back, hands coming up to hide his face.Â
Suddenly, you realize how real this is. How genuine Jaeyun is. It isnât a cruel prank heâs decided to play on you, but the truth of what he feels for you. For what must be the first time since last night, you let yourself react the way any sane person would upon finding out the person theyâve loved for years loves them back: youâre happy. Unbelievably, indescribably happy. And itâs terrifying when you know this happiness might be ripped from your hands at any momentâbut youâll worry about that later. Right now, all you see is the man laying next to you, his smile full of light, his sweet, glimmering eyes. A small tear escapes your eye at the same time as a chuckle leaves your throat.
He returns to his previous position, grinning down at you while he rests his upper body on his elbow. âOkay, this is totally cool. Iâm not freaking out at all,â he says, making you laugh. His smile widens. He picks a daisy from the ground, reaches for your hand. Tying the stem around your ring finger, he says, âI wanted to tell you this today, in our school uniforms, as a way to get justice for my teenager self. I know itâs silly, but I feel like Iâm only able to do this because he liked you so much.âÂ
But it isnât silly at all. Itâs the nicest, most romantic thing anyone has ever done for you.
He takes a deep breath, looks up from where your hand rests in his, to your eyes. âI love you, Y/N. Iâm sorry it took me so long to tell you. And I canât explain to you how happy I am that I still have a chance after all this time.â
Itâs not a singular tear rolling down your face anymore, itâs the whole waterworks threatening to explode the longer Jaeyun looks at you with those eyes, so tender and full of affection. You roll onto your side, resting your forehead against his shoulder so he canât see your faceâitâs enough that he can hear your sniffling, that he can feel your shoulders shake against him, especially as he wraps an arm around your waist to bring you closer. Your feelings overwhelm youâyou want to cry, to laugh, to hold him as tight as you can, to run away and stop him from witnessing how vulnerable he makes you. With his free hand, he pets your hair, saying he hopes these are happy tears.
âTheyâre very, very happy tears,â you reply between sobs. You probably sound ridiculous, but Jaeyun doesnât seem to mind, holding you through it all.
âGood,â he whispers.
Itâs a shame that it took you this long to realize you forgot something you shouldnât ever haveâthat people are the most important. Not relying on the ones you love doesnât make you strong, it makes you a fool.Â
Jaeyunâs presence is reassuring, familiar, and you picture a life in which you lean on his shoulder and cry when you need to. In which you hold him tight and share every moment with him, not just the happy ones. It sounds so much better than what youâve been doing for the past ten years. He smiles at you, and youâre flooded with the relief and gratitude that this is the life he wants, too.
For a while, he just holds you, the sun shining down on your bodies. This is what you were so fearful ofâJaeyunâs familiar scent enveloping you, his hand rubbing reassuring circles against your back, his hair soft in your hands. Eventually, he says, voice just loud enough for you to hear, âLater, will you talk to me? Will you tell me why you drifted from me?âÂ
Thereâs no anger in his tone, no admonition. Guilt still pangs in your stomach, but thatâs only because you know how badly he deserves an explanation, and because youâre amazed that even now, heâs so patient and understanding with you. âI will,â you reply.
You donât know how long you stay there, laughing at Jaeyunâs anecdotes of all the ways he tried to show you he liked you. All the times he ran home in the rain because you didnât bring an umbrella, all the fish cakes he sacrificed because they were your favorite part of tteokbokki, all the pocket money he spent on your favorite snacks.Â
âI thought about you so often once you left,â he says. âI worried so much. If you were eating well, if you were making new friends at university. Then if your job was treating you well. I wanted to call you all the time, but I didnât want to annoy you. I thought you were moving on, and that maybe I should too. But I never was able to.â
Youâre a little bashful as you tell him that you never did, either. âI compared all the guys I dated to you. And they were never as nice, as thoughtful, asââ
âAs handsome, as smart, as amazing as me, I get it, donât worry,â he teases, and you swat his shoulder lightly.Â
âObviously, but you donât need to be so smug about it.â
âIf youâre going to tell me none of your little boyfriends measured up to me, of course Iâm going to be smug about it, are you kidding me? This is the best news Iâve received in my life.â
You only realize how long youâve been lying there when your phone dings with a text from your aunt, asking whether youâll be home for dinner. Itâs almost seven p.m. alreadyâthe two of you spent three hours, just talking and laughing. He pouts a little when you tell him you should head home, but he obliges anyway.
When he drops you off at your auntâs house, he comes out of the car with you and hugs you tightly before you head inside. âThank you for this afternoon. Iâll see you tomorrow, yeah?â he says, lips moving against your hair.
You nod and, with a quick peck to his cheek, you bolt for your front door before he can react and try to do something crazy, like properly kiss you.
âWait, before you go,â he says as you grab the door handle. Turning around to look at him, breath catches, thinking heâs going to tell you something important, yet another thing that will change your lifeââCan you tell me about those lame dudes you dated again?â
You roll your eyes, biting back a smile. âGoodbye, Jaeyun.â
âYou love me!â
You smile at him, wide and unabashed.Â
Because you do love him. You really, really do.
.
.
You plop yourself on the couch next to your aunt, the latest Drag Race season playing on the TV. She hands you the bag of caramel popcorn and you grab a handful.Â
âI heard a car,â she says. âDid Jaeyun drop you off? Is that why youâre smiling so much?â
You only now notice the ache in your cheeks. âIâm not smiling that much,â you say, forcing your features into humorlessness, but the corners of your lips keep rising of their own volition.
âYouâre smiling a lot. More than you already usually do with him,â she says, giving you a knowing look.
You gape at her. âDonât tell me you knew too?â
âKnew what? That you and Jaeyun have liked each other since you were teenagers? I mightâve had an inkling, yeah.â
Her grin is wicked as you bury your face in your hands, groaning. âSo it really was everyone but him and me.â
âI think you knew,â she says, her tone gentle. âBut you didnât want to admit it to yourself. Especially in the last few months before you left, youâd always get a look about your face when I mentioned him. You never wanted to say you were sad to be leaving, but it was clear you were, if only because of him.â
You frown. âI was sad to leave you, too. And Chaewon, and Yunjin. And Mrs. Kim, because I knew I wouldnât find better tteokbokki anywhere else.â
She shrugs. âSure. But you were sad to leave Jaeyun in particular.â
You fidget with your hands, letting her words sink in. âAnd I have to leave him again in two days,â you whisper.
She wraps an arm around your shoulder, squeezes it slightly. âBut itâll be different this time around, right?â
DIfferent. Youâll call. Youâll make plans for him to come. Youâll let him into your life, into your heart. Youâll let him break down your walls, brick by brick.
âYeah. It will,â you say quietly, willing your worries to dissipate.
You meet her gaze, and she smiles. Jaeyun is only one of the many people youâve kept at bay for too long now.
âCome on,â she says, getting up from the couch. âIâm making meatball pasta, your favorite.â
âItâs your favorite.â
It was one of the few meals she made on rotation whenever she had time to cookâit is your favorite, only because eating it meant you were spending the evening together. You cut vegetables while she seasons the meat, telling each other about your day. Maybe itâs because youâre in such a wonderful mood from your afternoon with Jaeyun, but the atmosphere between the two of you feels particularly light-hearted today, which is why youâre so surprised when she suddenly tells you you should talk about âwhat happened last time.â Your stomach clenches, but you nodâyou knew it was going to happen sooner or later, so you might as well get over it quickly, and she seems to be of the same opinion.
âI know weâre both bad at this, so Iâll keep it short,â she starts, keeping her eyes on the preparation. You really are cut from the same clothâyou continue chopping carrots, glad to have something to do with your hands. âIâm sorry about those things I said. It was an emotional time for both of us, what with Jaeyunâs grandmother and all, but I shouldnât have let my emotions get the best of me. Itâs my fault we never talked about your parents. About your mom. I know you wouldâve liked to, but I never could. And you do remind me of her. Gosh, you look so much like her at your age. But you canât do anything about that, and what I said about looking at you and seeing her, that wasnât fair. It sounded like I blamed you, which is the last thing I wanted to do.
âShe always took care of me, because she was older than me by so many years, you know. She called herself my second mom. And all of a sudden, it felt like I had to take care of her. Itâs ironic, since my literal job is to take care of people, but I didnât know how to, with you.â
âI didnât make it easy. I barely talked to you,â you say quietly. Itâs true that you canât expect the same maturity from a teenager and a young adult, but thinking back on it, you canât help but think you couldâve been softer on your aunt. More understanding. You wanted her to replace your parents while resenting her for it. You made no effort at communication yet pushed her away every time she made an attempt to talk to you.
âYou were so young, and dealing with all that loss. I shouldâve tried harder, but you seemed so independent, spending all that time with your friends, making yourself dinner when I wasnât home. It felt like you didnât need me, and I have to admit, I was relieved. I was hanging on by a thread. I didnât know how I could take care of a whole other human being.â
Your breathing is shallow. You spent so many years struggling, each of you in your little corner, at armâs length from each other but too scared to reach out a hand.
âIt felt like you didnât want me around,â you whisper, head hanging low.Â
âOh, honey.â She drops her spoon and in a second has you wrapped in her arms, the tightest hug sheâs ever given you, tighter than when you first arrived at her house, tighter than when you first left. âIâm so, so sorry. I was so glad to have you here. Sure, it was a reminder that Iâd lost my sister, but you were a reason to keep going. I had to go to work so you could eat. I had to stay healthy enough to work. You were the only person on this planet that needed me. Iâm sorry I didnât do a better job of it, and that I didnât show you how much I needed you. How much I love you. But I promise that I never, ever wished you werenât with me.â
Itâs impossible to keep the tears at bay at this point. Tears start pouring down your face, and at the sight, her own tears quickly follow suitâyou sob in each other's arms, apologizing over and over again, and by the time youâre done, the meatballs are overcooked and yet the best youâve ever had.
Between Jaeyun this afternoon, and your aunt this evening, today has been a whirlwind of emotionsâwith Chaewonâs wedding tomorrow, youâll probably be drained on your flight back to the city. You have half a mind to take Monday off, just so you can rest from your holiday.Â
For now, youâll rest from today. Youâre exhausted, but it takes a while for sleep to claim youâyour mind is reeling, replaying Jaeyunâs words, the unspoken promises they contain. Your heart is still swelling with hope when you finally fall asleep.
.
.
It takes a few seconds for yesterdayâs events to come back to you after you wake up. It feels like reliving them all over againâJaeyunâs face next to yours on the soccer field, his hand in yours on the drive home, the conversation with your aunt that feels like one of many steps towards the right direction. And to think you dreaded this weekend for months before coming here.
When Jaeyun pulls up in front of your auntâs house, sheâs quicker than either of you, opening the door before heâs even reached it and inviting him in for coffee. You make a quick mental note of his outfit, a matching dark green suit and vest with a white button-up that fit him a little too well, the veins that run along his forearms down to his hands prominent and a debilitating sight if youâve ever seen one. Out of concern for your well-being you put that image immediately out of your headâyou really donât need to know how attractive Jaeyunâs hands are.
While youâre trying to gather yourself, with a wide smile, your aunt stares at him sipping his drink, eyes darting around the room awkwardly. Heâs always been a little nervous around her, which confused you back then, but endears you nowâbefore every party he picked you up for, heâd be overly polite, assuring her heâd get you home early and safe, standing with his back straight in your hallway as he waited for you like someone trying to impress their girlfriendâs father. Sheâd wave him off, telling you you could come home shit-faced at three a.m. as long as you were with âthis guy.â
Itâs so obvious that sheâs over-the-moon about him being her nephew-in-law. When he clears his throat, saying, âIâll take good care of Y/N, I hope you can trust me,â like this is the seventies and he needs to ask her for your hand, she laughs in his face.
âOh, Iâm not worried about you. Itâs her Iâm worried about.â
âAuntie?â
She ignores you, slides her elbows on the table towards Jaeyun in a conspiratorial manner. âListen. She can be very grumpy in the morningââ
âAuntie?!â
âAnd she overthinks everything, even if sheâll never let you know about it. She gets all these crazy ideas about people in her head, so just make sure to talk to her a lot so you know whatâs going on up there. Even if you have to force her.â
Youâre glaring at her by the time sheâs done, but Jaeyunâs delighted. âThank you for the advice. Iâll make sure to remember it.â
âGood. Now, off you two go. Iâll meet you tonight for the party,â she says with one last wink at you, unfazed by your I-will-murder-you expression as she gets up to put the empty mugs in the sink.
In the car, Jaeyun breaks the silence first. âSo, grumpy in the morning, huh?â
âOh my God,â you mutter, bringing a hand to your temple like your head aches. âI liked it better when you were terrified of her.â
Jaeyun laughs, reaching for your hand and resting it on your lap. âItâs okay. Iâll cheer you up every morning like my life depends on it.â You purse your lips to stop them from curving into a smile. It doesnât work. âPlus, I canât imagine youâd be grumpy waking up to this,â he says, pointing to his face.
You roll your eyes. âDonât be so sure of yourself,â you say as though you donât agree with himâseeing him first thing in the morning would surely do wonders for your mood, not just when you wake up, but for the entire day.
You know heâs only teasing you, but you have an unexpected problem to deal with now: thoughts of waking up to Sim Jaeyun, thoughts of being in a bed with Sim Jaeyun, thoughts of what usually happens when two people who love each other share a bed. You gulp. When you look over at him, thereâs only a serene smile on his lips. One day in, and youâre already getting carried away. Heâs probably not even thinking about such things, and you feel guilty about the dull ache in your stomach created by the pictures that your brain is conjuring.
When you arrive at the town hall, youâre greeted by your old friends, standing on the steps in their best clothes. The weather is perfect, the sun shining down warmly but a small breeze stops you from sweating your clothes off. Chaewon and Jaemin decided against staying cooped up in a small room before the ceremonyâthey thought itâd be much nicer to be there to greet their guests, and that getting to be around each other would prevent any last-minute nerves.
A little before eleven, Chaewonâs sister and Jaeminâs siblings, as the bridesmaids and groomsmen, start ushering everyone in. Once youâre seated inside and waiting for the ceremony to start, Jaeyun leans down towards you, and, quietly enough so only you hear him, whispers, âShould we hijack their wedding? They havenât been waiting as long as I have.â
You gasp at his words, lightly swatting his chest while he only grins at you, clearly satisfied with your reaction.
âIâm just kidding,â he says. âThis isnât how Iâm planning on proposing.â
âPlanning onâSim Jaeyun, be serious for a second.â
âWhat?â he asks, feigning an innocent tone even as mischief stays written on his features. âIâm very serious about propoââ
Who knows how his sentence ends, because his words are muffled by the hand you put over his mouth.
The ceremony is beautiful, presided over by Chaewonâs dad, who says that in all his years as mayor of Gimcheon, there isnât a marriage heâs been happier to officiate than todayâs. As Chaewon recites her vows, all you can see is your best friend at fifteen, crying because her favorite idol was embroiled in a dating scandal; at seventeen, making vision boards out of her momâs old wedding magazines; at twenty-two, giggling on the phone because, âDid you know Na Jaemin has had a serious glow-up since high school?â
At twenty-five, telling you she hopes youâll find the person who makes you as happy as Jaemin makes her.Â
Jaeyunâs hand stays in yours the entire time. You feel him glancing over you a few times, but youâre too scared that if you meet his eyes, youâll break down crying, and youâve done enough of that to last you a few weeks.
There are many pictures to be taken outside of the town hall, plus the bouquet toss â when Giselle catches it, Jenoâs face turns crimson â so itâs a while before you can all start heading to the cottage that Chaewonâs and Jaeminâs family have rented out for the occasion, for extended family and friends who couldnât be lodged at someoneâs house to stay in. For lunch, the caterer has prepared a large cold buffet with everything from thin slices of meat to charcuterie boards and three types of potato salad.
Itâs a really idyllic place theyâve chosen, especially in the middle of Julyâthe flowers are in full bloom, climbing cream and pink roses spilling over metal trellises, the scent of lavender bushes wafting delicately through the air. Chairs and tables covered in white drapes are neatly set around the garden and huge ribbons made of alabaster-colored gaze decorate a large oak tree.Â
You know from a phone call with Chaewon that as hands-on as she was with the wedding preparations, there was one thing that hadnât been up to her to organizeâthe afternoon activity, between lunch with family and close friends and dinner with a larger number of guests. Jaeminâs sisters had told her theyâd take care of it. âBut theyâre the kind of people who give people missions to do at parties,â she complained. âI once had to win at rock-paper-scissors with three total strangers.â
âBut no oneâs forcing you to participate,â you said.
âIt was a question of pride,â she replied, firm. âI had to make a good impression.â
You can see the relief flood over Chaewonâs features when they announce that theyâve planned a scavenger hunt for this afternoon, and that those who donât wish to partake can hang back and have a rest. The groups are assigned randomly, so youâre separated from Jaeyun, but your teammates are friendlyâJaeminâs great-aunt and Chaewon seven-year-old little cousin make for a surprisingly comedic duo, and you and Giselle, who you can confirm once and for all is much cooler than her boyfriend Jeno, spend the whole time cracking up at their antics.
Jaeminâs sisters have created a list of clues to guide you to different places around the venue, where you need to complete little tasksâeach team starts out with a different clue, and is guided around by the new clues they find at each spot. In the guest book by the entrance, you each describe a memory you share with the bride or groom; by the lily pond, the four of you take a polaroid picture as a keepsake for the newlyweds; behind the bar, thereâs a corkboard on which you can tack heart-shaped pieces of paper and write down your predictions for their marriage. You write down that theyâll have 3 under 3, and Chaewonâs cousin writes that theyâll get to drink milkshakes for breakfastâwhen you ask him what thatâs about, he says that his mom said only adults are allowed milkshakes for breakfast, âand adults are usually married, so maybe thatâs what theyâll do.â
You arrive in fifth place, so you only win a piece of candy eachâbut when you find Jaeyun again, he tells you gloatingly that heâll share his third-place box of chocolates with you. Slowly after that, more guests start arriving, including your aunt. The main room opens up, and you see just how much effort Chaewon has put into all of thisâitâs straight from her Pinterest board, with white roses in the center of every table, tulle curtains draped over the windows, and fairy lights adorning the walls. Candied almonds in small white bags, with a tag that reads C+J, rest on every plate as gifts for the guests. The cottage was the perfect choice for the reception, with its wooden panels that contrast against the cream-colored decorations. Theyâve hired Beomgyu, an old high school friend of yours, as their DJ, and for now, as heâs setting up his station, a relaxed R&B playlist drifts quietly through the speakers.
Youâre seated between Yunjin and Jaeyun. You mingle at first, champagne glass in hand as you catch up with Chaewonâs mom, at whose house you spent so many of your teenage hours. She has stars in her eyes, telling you how happy she is for your daughter, and when she asks whether thereâs a lucky man in your life, you canât help but glance at Jaeyun, whoâs talking with Mrs. Lee, one of his old elementary school teachers, Chaewonâs colleague now. She follows your gaze and exclaims in delight. âChaewon always said you two would end up together! Well, better late than never,â she says with a wink. Someone calls her name then, and youâre left to process her words.
Considering Yunjin and your aunt had you figured it out, it isnât so surprising that Chaewon wouldâve long been aware of your and Jaeyunâs feelings for each otherâwhatâs taking you aback is the fact she never said anything. She teased you just as much as your classmates did, and she did ask you a couple of times if you really didnât feel anything for him (which you always adamantly declined, and you understand now that that mustâve only made her only more suspicious of you), but she never pushed any further. Her words from a few days earlier suddenly come back to youââI promise you someone is out there. Maybe closer than you think.â
You make a mental note to find a minute alone with her tonight, and congratulate her for being much smarter and perceptive than you ever were.
The appetizers start rolling outâJaeyun is still so engrossed in his conversation with Mrs. Lee that you go ahead and make him a plate with a little bit of everything. When you hand it to him, he looks at you like youâve just handed him a million bucks. After you go back to your seat, you often feel him or Mrs. Lee glancing your way, and you have an inkling of what they might be talking about.
Before the main course, the parents give their speeches togetherâJaeminâs share embarrassing anecdotes of their son and thank Chaewon for taking him off their hands; Chaewonâs mom is so emotional throughout her speech that her husband has to take over her parts.Â
The atmosphere at your table during dinner is great, and itâs very entertaining to see the champagne start to get to everyoneâs headsâyouâve only had a couple glasses, and Jaeyun is driving later, so youâre both sober watching your friends exaggerate everything they say and laugh over nothing much. When youâre done eating, his hand often finds yours underneath the table, and it never fails to make your insides feel pleasantly warm.Â
After dinner, the music suddenly shuts off for a few seconds, before Canât Help Falling In Love by Elvis Presley, the song for Chaewonâs parentsâ first dance at their own wedding, which she wanted to turn into a tradition. Everyone watches the couple gently swaying around the dance floor. They look at each other as though they are the only people in this entire room; on this entire planet. After a minute, other couples start joining them; when Jaeyun stands up and offers you his hand, you donât even hesitate for a second.
You feel a little shy, standing before him and looking into his eyes, so you rest your head on his chest instead, letting him hold you close to him and guide you around the dance floor, one arm around your waist, holding your hand in his free one.
âThank you for waiting for me,â you say, lifting your face a little so he can hear you.
He bends down towards you, his lips grazing your forehead as he speaks. âThank you, too, angel.â The nickname is unexpected, and makes your heart skip a beat. When he presses his lips to the top of your head, you think that if this wasnât your best friendâs wedding, you might be debating the ethics of leaving before dessertâs been served. âI promise Iâll make you happy,â he whispers.
âYou already are.â You wish you could live in the way he gazes down at you, eyes warm and full of adoration. âYou make me feel like a teenager. Like Iâm still the sixteen-year-old who got giddy at the thought of seeing you at school every morning.â
âIs that right?â he asks, smile turning a little smug. You like nervous, bashful Jaeyun betterâthis Jaeyun, the intensity of his gaze as it trails down your face until it reaches your lips, the feeling of his thumb roving across your waist, makes you want to curl up and hide your face in the crook of his neck. He makes your knees weak and your breath shaky.
You stop yourself from looking away, eyes set on his as you nod your head.
âThatâs funny, because Iâm very aware that weâre not teenagers anymore,â he says.
You donât ask what he means by that, and he doesnât offer an explanation, so youâre left to ponder his words on your ownâalthough the tone with which he spoke, teasing and enticing, canât leave you with much room for interpretation.
But just as your eyes drift down to his lips, and you swear he leans a fraction of the way in, the song is over. You step back from him a second after every couple has separated, turning towards the newlyweds and clapping for them.Â
Itâs back to 2010s pop after that, and he doesnât let you go back to your seatâthe rest of your friends quickly join you anyway, and even you canât say no to jumping around and screaming the lyrics when itâs Lady Gaga and Black Eyed Peas playing. Jaeyun makes you spin around, his hands firm on your hips during more sensual songs, his worst (or best, if you ask him) moves on display whenever a song calls for it, and you canât stop laughing.Â
You need a large drink of water eventually, and take the opportunity to look for Chaewon. You find her at the dessert buffet, stacking mini brownies on her plate. She looks startled when you call her name. âThese arenât all for me,â she says quickly.
âIâm not judging,â you say, smiling.
âOkay, good, âcause theyâre definitely all for me. I barely ate all night âcause I was so nervous and Iâm famished now.â
You laugh and get a plate, filling it with more food for her before leading her to your presently unoccupied table. âThank you,â she says with an exaggerated sigh as she plops down on Yunjinâs chair. âI love my family, but theyâve been taking up all of my attention. I just wanna come dance with you guys.â
âWeâll join them in a bit. Can I just tell you something first?â
She tilts her head at you, her smile like she already knows what youâre about to say. âOf course. And,â she says, taking your hands in hers, âIâve got something to ask you, too. But you go first.â
You surprise yourself with how easily the words come to youâno hesitation over how to phrase it, no nervousness. They feel so natural, rolling off your tongue. âMe and Jaeyun are together.â
She squeals, immediately throwing her arms around you. âI knew it! Finally! It took you guys so long, I was so close to intervening and playing Cupid myself. Oh, Y/N!â she exclaims, bringing you into another hug, not letting you place a word. âLove is in the air. You know, I think knowing Jae and I were getting married mightâve been the trigger for Jaeyun. When he told me he wanted to confess to you over this weekend, I was ecstatic. You can basically thank me for having a boyfriend.â
You laugh. âThank you, Chaewon. Youâve known all along, havenât you?âÂ
She nods proudly. âIt was always so obvious. Jaeyun told me a few months after high school ended, but youââ She points an accusing finger at you. âYou never did! But you tried too hard to pretend like you were indifferent when I mentioned him on the phone.â
You look down at the floor, feeling a little guilty, a little shy. âI could barely admit it to myself, let alone to anyone else. And I was so, so scared, Chae. Even nowâŠâ You look longingly over at the dance floor, where Jaeyun is clearly having the time of his life, throwing his limbs around with Heeseung and Jenoâwhen he meets your eyes, he waves happily, then returns to what seems to be an attempt at the robot. You sigh. âItâs not like I change my ways overnight, can I? Being so far from him, I donât knowâŠâ
âDonât think about that right now,â Chaewon says, commanding your attention back to her. âJust enjoy it. Itâs what both of you deserve. When you run into a problem, youâll figure it out together. Heâs waited this long, I promise you itâs not a little distance thatâll drive him away now.â
You nod. âOkay. Youâre right.â
âOf course I am. Now, I have some news to share too. And itâs our secret, okay?â
Excited, you shift forward on your chair, inching closer to her. âOkay.â
She gazes downward with a smile, lets go of one of your hands to rest on her stomach. Your mouth falls open, and when she looks back up at you, her eyes shiny, you immediately feel yours start to burn. âIf you say yes, Y/N, youâll be a godmother soon.â
âOh my God, Chae,â you whisper, tears already pooling in your eyes.
She giggles. âJaeyunâs already agreed to be the godfather, so it only makes more sense now, doesnât it? And yes, before you ask, Iâm absolutely using my unborn child as emotional blackmail to get you to call and visit more often. And Iâll be coming to see you in the city and make you take me around cute baby shops and buy me all the food I want.
âOh my God, Chae. Youâre having a whole baby,â you whisper, incredulous. Your heads lean in towards each other, almost bumping as you laugh.
âI know, right? We wanted to wait until our honeymoon was over to start trying, but⊠Well, Iâll spare you the details, but weâve never gone at it so much since getting engagedââ
âAlright.â
âSo, what do you say?â she asks, a hopeful expression on her face.
You squeeze her hands. âHow could I say anything but yes? Of course Iâll be your kidâs godmother. Iâm so honored that youâre asking me, when I havenât been an ideal friend.â
She shakes her head. âDonât. We understand you, Y/N, more than I think you give us credit for. And I trust you to make up for it now, okay?â
You nod, tears freely streaming down your cheeks now. âI will. I absolutely will. I love you so much, Chae. Iâm so happy for you.â
Her laugh is the prettiest sound to your ears. âI love you too, Y/N.â
She leans back, takes a deep breath as she wipes her tears. âIs my makeup okay?â When you nod, she gets up and says, âOkay. To the dance floor!â
Now that theyâve gone through every step and are reassured that their wedding couldnât have gone more smoothly, Jaemin and Chaewon let it all out on the dance floor. What starts out as a pretty big crowd, a large portion of the guests up and dancing, fizzles out as the hour grows late. The more elderly relatives have long retired, and it isnât long before the older adults leave, too, finding their children asleep on random chairs and dragging them out of the venue. Soon, the population on the dance floor is more or less constituted of your high school friends and Chaewonâs and Jaeminâs cousins of your age. When Beomgyu starts to play slower songs around the three a.m. mark, you canât believe itâs this late already. You were having so much fun you had no idea so much time had passed.
The catering crew has cleared the tables and packed away all their silver- and dinnerware, and your friends, in their drunken state, offer to wipe the floors and take the decorations down, but Chaewon and Jaemin shoo them off, assuring them that theyâll be taking care of it with their families in the morning.
You have to admit, now that the energyâs gone down, you start to feel yourself ready for bed, your feet aching from overuse, even though you took your high heels off hours ago to dance with more ease. It doesnât help that Jaeyun stays right behind you as everyone starts heading off, his hand low and casual on your hip as you wave them all goodbye and promise to stay in touch. He only hangs back when you have to say goodbye to Chaewonâyour flight is around noon tomorrow, so you wonât have time to see her again.
Hugging her tight, you tell her again how beautiful she looked tonight and how happy you are for her. You wish her and Jaemin a happy honeymoon, and she winks back, telling you to have fun, too. âBut safe fun!â she yells as you and Jaeyun start making your way to his car. âI love you but youâre not stealing my babyâs spotlight!â
Jaeyun is still laughing as he gets in the driverâs seat, while youâre flooded with embarrassment. âSo she told you, then?â he asks.
âYeah.â
âWeâre gonna be godparents,â he says, grinning. âSome might say weâre moving a little fast, but I think itâs right.â
Youâre smiling impossibly wide. âYouâre stupid.â
âAnd youâre pretty,â he replies, brushing his knuckle along your jaw. Itâs an innocent touch, but just like that, the dull ache in your stomach reappearsâmaybe itâs his proximity all night, all tension and no release, or the fact that itâs the two of you in pure darkness on this late night road, or Chaewonâs comment ringing in your head, but you suddenly find yourself craving for a lot more than an innocent touch. As though he can read your mind, Jaeyun clears his throat. âDo you, um, do you want to go back to mine?â he asks, eyes going back-and-forth between you and the road as though not wanting to miss your reaction.
âYeah,â you whisper. The air conditioning is on full blast, yet your skin is on fire. âYeah. Iâd like that.â
âOkay.â
Youâre silent for the rest of the car ride, mind racing with possibility. Jaeyunâs hand trembles ever so slightly in yours, like he can barely restrain himself, and you agree that the twenty minutes to his apartment are the longest youâve ever had to endure. You play with his fingers, hoping the gesture will be calming to both of you, but the feeling of his skin against yours only makes your heart race faster.
His apartment is on the first floor of a small building in the center of Gimcheon. He leads you up the stairs, fingers intertwined with yours, only letting go to open his door. âLayla will be excited to meet you,â he says as he turns the keyâindeed, youâre greeted warmly by the cream-colored Border Collie. She seems much happier to meet someone new than to see her boring old owner, who notices this with a frown, huffing something about âbetrayalâ and âyour own kidsâŠâ as Layla licks your hands and presents her belly for pets.
âI should probably walk her quickly, she hasnât been out since this morning,â Jaeyun says, an endeared smile on his face as he watches the two of you get acquainted.
âShould I come with?â
Crouching beside you, he shakes his head. âI know youâre tired, angel. Iâll just be ten minutes, you can wash up in the meantime.â
You follow him into the bathroom, where he hands you a towel and tells you to help yourself to anything you need. âWait here a minute,â he says, then disappears into his bedroom, coming back with clean clothes for you to wear. Heâs sheepish as he rests them on the sink counter, a small smile playing on his lips. âHere. They might be a bit big, but more comfortable than your dress.â
âThanks, Yun.â
âNo worries.â He hesitates for a second, then presses a quick kiss to your temple. âIâll be quick.â
Even after he leaves, the smile on your lips is wide and unwavering, your heartbeat fast, your fingers twitchy and impatient. You find lotion to wipe your makeup off with, and have far too much fun analyzing all of his shower products as the hot water runs over your body. You can hardly keep your giddiness in check at the thought of washing yourself with Jaeyunâs soap, drying yourself with his towel, then wearing his clothes and finding yourself enveloped with the delicate floral scent of his laundry detergent. He gave you a navy t-shirt with the logo of his familyâs business on the front and a pair of basketball shorts that reach your knees, and that you have to tie very tightly at your hips so it stays up. You canât help but admire yourself in the mirror, for some reason feeling more like a girlfriend than ever before in your life.
When you hear the front door open, you come out to meet him in his living room. As Layla trots over to her bed, he stops for a second when he sees you, mouth slightly agape as his eyes rake your body. You feel shy under his gaze, but surprise yourself by also revelling in the attention, in the way his desire is so evident in his gaze, in the smirk that grows on his lips as he crosses the distance to you.
âNice walk?â you ask.
âYeah. You look good,â he says, hands finding your hips, shameless in the way he looks down at you now.
In the shower, you were so preoccupied with simply being here that you didnât spare a thought for what would happen nextânow, under the intensity of Jaeyunâs gaze and the effect of his proximity, you feel unprepared, completely at a loss for what to do with yourself.
Itâs lucky for you that Jaeyun, on the other hand, seems to know exactly what he wants to do with you.
âCan I kiss you?â he asks, voice low and gravelly unlike youâve ever heard it before, and it sends shivers down your spines. You donât trust your voice to work properly, so you nod your assent instead.
Seconds pass like eternity between his question and the moment his lips actually touch your lips. One of his hands leaves your hips to find your chin instead, raising it a little with his thumb so your face is perfectly angled towards his. His touch is gentle, more of a request than a demand, and you crave to melt into it, to let him lead you wherever he wants you.
His lips meet yours, delicate and cautious, like he doesnât want to scare you off. They move languidly against each other, giving you the time you need to adapt to this without being overwhelmed. You raise your arms and wrap them around his neck while his hand sneaks its way to your lower back, pushing you gently closer towards him, your chest now flush to his. Fire courses through your veins as his tongue meets yours, deepening the kiss and making your thoughts hazy, incoherent, unimportant.
You never dreamed it would be this easy. One kiss, and itâs like a faucetâs opened up inside you, all the desire and want and longing that youâve kept trapped inside pouring out of you boundlessly. You wouldnât know how to control it if you had toâand thankfully, Jaeyun doesnât seem to want you to. He meets you right where you are, holding onto you just as tightly as you are onto him, moaning shamelessly when your fingers tug sharply at his hair, his head thrown back as you pepper his throat with wet, messy kisses.Â
His mouth doesnât leave yours as he walks you to his bedroom. Only when he sits down on his bed do you get a glimpse of his expressionâthe lust-blown pupils, the reddened cheeks, the lips plump and shiny with saliva. His hands are practically on your ass as he brings you down towards him, helping you into a straddling position on his lap. He presses kisses to your cheek, your jawline, then, resting his forehead against yours, asks with a throaty voice, âYouâre okay with this?â
You smile, wrap your arms tighter around his neck. âIâm definitely okay with this.â
âGood,â he replies, then wastes no time pressing his lips back to yours.
Years of repressed feelings come out in this kissâthat much is clear in its desperation, in the way you both grab onto whatever parts of the other you can reach, like you want to tether yourselves to each other. When you break apart for air, Jaeyun whispers in your ear how long heâs wanted to do this, lips brushing against your skin as he speaks, making you shake lightly in his hold. The longer you kiss, the weaker the resistance in your thighs grows, and you soon find yourself sitting right on his lap, his bulge hard and demanding attention beneath you. His grip on your hips tightens, but itâs the only sign he gives you of being affectedâonly when you roll your hips experimentally against his does he let out a loud moan right into your mouth, which you take as a green light to keep going.Â
You push him down onto the mattress, practically laying on top of him as you grind yourself against him, a small whimper leaving your throat every time his erection rubs perfectly against your clit through your shared layers of clothing. Heâs still wearing his wedding outfit, and when his hands leave your body to unbutton his shirt, you waste no time in helping him, untucking his shirt from his trousers, unbuckling his belt. He chuckles at your eagerness, but you canât bring yourself to feel even a little embarrassedâyou donât think youâve ever desired anything this badly, and itâs messing with your head. Jaeyun looks at you like he could eat you right up, so you decide thereâs no use in hiding your appetite from him.
His hands slip underneath your t-shirt, and your skin blazes with the heat of his touch. They trail up your sides, nails briefly grazing your waist and back before they find your breasts. He gently rubs one of your nipples between his fingers, and Jaeyun curses when you release a moan in the crook of his neck, pressing your crotch against his with more urgency than before. âDoes that feel good, baby?â he asks, voice breathy as you squirm under his touch.
âYes, Yun.â
He hums in satisfaction, one hand on your ass to guide your movements against him, the other alternating between your breasts to pay them equal attention, lips never relenting in their quest to leave no inch of your neck unkissed.Â
Itâs too much and too little at once. A familiar coil tightens in your stomach, and you canât believe youâre already this close to coming undone from thisâevery man youâve slept with before has had to put in a lot more work to get you even near the edge. But with Jaeyun, all it takes is a few minutes of heavy petting and his voice in your ears, telling you how well youâre doing for him, how pretty you look using him to get yourself off.
âThatâs it, baby,â he coos as your moans get louder, your movements more erratic. âIâve got you. Let it go for me.â Itâs all you need for your orgasm to wash over you and leave you a trembling mess in his arms, his hold around your waist tight as he kisses your temple and shushes you gently.Â
When youâve calmed down somewhat, he helps you onto your back, shifting so that your head rests on his pillows. Now that youâve regained your senses, the reality of what youâve done, what youâre doing hits you. Resting on his elbow, Jaeyun gazes down at you fondly, and although you wouldâve reveled in it mere moments ago, the intensity of his attention now only brings heat to your face. You canât quite meet his eyes, a small, bashful smile playing on your lips as you play with the lapels of shirt collar. He must sense this shift in your demeanor, and asks, âDo you wanna keep going?â
Lust pangs low in your stomach. You force yourself to look into his eyes, giving him an almost imperceptible nod. His desire is so obvious on him, and truth be told, you hadnât even thought you might stop here when he still needs taking care of. The smile on his lips grows, but when you reach out to touch his erection, he tilts his head, grabbing your wrist and laying it back down next to your body. âI didnât say I was done with you, baby,â he purrs, leaning down to kiss your neck, one hand slipping under your t-shirt again.Â
âButââ
âIâve waited so long, angel. Dreamed about having you like this so many times. So be patient and give me this much, hm?â
You release a shaky breath. How can you say no when he makes it sound like letting him make you feel good is doing him a favor, and not you? âOkay.â
âThank you, angel. Help me with this?â he asks gently, lifting his t-shirt youâre wearing over your head. Youâd feel shy at lying half-naked underneath him if it wasnât for the way he admired you, like an art lover in front of their favorite painting. âSo fucking perfect,â he mutters, leaving a trail of kisses down your throat until he reaches your breasts. âCanât believe youâve been keeping this from me all this time.â
âIâm sorry, Yun.â Youâre already squirming at this touch, body screaming for more than the feather-like kisses he presses to your skin.
âNo, no, baby. Donât apologize. Iâd do it all over again, knowing Iâd get to see you like this in the end. So perfect,â he repeats, and before you can reply, he wraps his lips around your nipple, tongue darting out to lick at the sensitive bud. Your back arches off his bed, but with a firm hand to your stomach, he stops you from writhing away from his touch.Â
He seems to be content with doing this for minutes on end, lips alternating between your nipples, fingers tending to the neglected one, teeth sometimes gently nibbling at your skin, leaving behind small marks on the sides of your breasts. âThere, now you canât forget me,â he says with a self-satisfied smirk when he leans back to admire his work.
âAs if I could,â you whisper back, hands finding purchase in his hair as you bring him back towards you and kiss him.
But soon enough, another part of your body starts burning from lack of attention, but even as you buck your hips towards him to signal what you need, he doesnât noticeâor doesnât care. âYunâŠâ you eventually whine, hoping heâll understand what it is you want from this one word.
âWhatâs wrong, baby? You need something?â he asks, faking an innocent tone.
So he does knowâhe just doesnât want to give it to you so easily. Itâs too bad for you that youâre famously bad at asking for what you need.
You opt instead for grabbing his hand and leading it down to your coreâsurely, thatâs enough of a message. He cups you over your shorts, and your thighs clasp around his wrist, instinctively attempting to create more friction. His hand slips below your waistband, and he groans, forehead falling against your shoulder, when he finds your lack of underwear there. He has direct access to your folds, and he wastes no time sliding two of his fingers there, humming in appreciation. âSo wet,â he mumbles, seemingly more to himself than to you.Â
âPlease, Yun,â you plead, voice almost a winceâand it is in a way painful, having him so close to where you need.
âIâm here, angel. Iâll give you what you want.â And indeed, the next second, the pads of his fingers are on your clit, rubbing torturously slow circles onto it. On the pillow, your head falls to the side in your search for more proximity with himâyou feel his laboured breathing against your face, and you shift your body closer to him, worming one of your legs between his. As though this is getting to his head as much as yours, heâs silent for a while, his fingers gathering speed on your clit, occasionally sliding down your folds and inside of you. They go so much deeper than yours can, brushing against that spot that has your nails digging into his skin. But as he brings you closer and closer to the edge, you find yourself not wanting to fall right away, at least not like this.
âYunâŠâ you breathe out, wrapping your fingers around his wrist. He stops immediately, raising his head to look at you with unnecessary concern, making your heart soften for him.
âAre you okay? Did I hurt you?â
âNo, no, I justâŠâ
You squirm uncomfortably beneath him, and his expression shiftsâdamn him for understanding so quickly what youâre too shy to say. âYou justâŠâ he trails, smug. Resuming his kisses along your throat, he says, âTell me, baby.â
âYou know,â you huff. He laughs against your skin, and even in your annoyance, the melodic sound makes your heart skip a beat.
âHm, but Iâd rather you tell me.â
You hesitate for a few seconds. Your hand finds his bulge again, and this time, he doesnât stop you. You know he wants this as badly as you do, but if telling him is what he needs, then youâll have to comply. âI needâI wantâI want to come on your dick, Jaeyun, please,â you say, forcing out the words as quickly as you can, face burning in embarrassment.
He freezes. You hear his breathing get louder, more rugged, and itâs a few seconds before he raises himself onto his elbows, fingers at your waistband, dragging your shorts down. The smugness has all but left his features, leaving behind something like sternnessâfurrowed eyebrows, dark eyes, tight jaw. As he lifts over his head the white sleeveless tee he was wearing beneath his button-up, your hands make clumsy work of his trousers, pulling them down his thighs along with his underwear. His cock springs free, tip an angry-looking red, already leaking precum, and you wonder at the self-restraint he mustâve been exercising this entire timeâitâs clearly stronger than yours.Â
You wrap a hand around the base, transfixed by the sight, and he groans. You pump him a few times, reveling in the small moans that leave his mouth, muffled in the crook of your neck, and in the way his fingers dig into the skin of your hips. He doesnât let it go on for very long, soon leaning away from you and towards his bedside table. âLet me get a condom, baby,â he says, voice shaky.Â
âIâm on the pill. You donât need to wear one.â His head snaps back towards you, eyes wide like a kid on Christmas day.
âAre you sure?â he asks, but heâs already coming back towards you, elbows on each side of your face, peppering the side of your face with kisses.
You wrap your hand around his dick again, letting his tip graze your clit before lining it with your entrance. âYeah, I am.â
He releases a shaky breath, finding your hand and intertwining his fingers with yours before he finally pushes inside of you, slowly filling you up until he bottoms out. Slick from your previous orgasm and relaxed from his fingers, you accommodate him easily, only needing a few seconds before youâre already bucking up your hips against him, asking for more. For once, Jaeyun doesnât tease youâhe obliges instantly, pushing into you with slow, precise thrusts that have the coil tightening again in your stomach with embarrassing quickness. It doesnât help that Jaeyun groans right into your ear, whispering curses, muttering about how good you feel around him, âLike you were made for me, baby.â
His free hand slides beneath your thigh and lifts it up to rest it against his hipâthis new angle allows him to go deeper, to hit that sensitive spot with every one of his thrusts. As his movements gather speed, you feel yourself inching closer and closer to your orgasm, and when it finally hits, your nails dig into the skin of his bicep, you throw your head back, and you let the pleasure wash over you, your brain going haywire, a loud moan escaping your mouth.
Jaeyun takes the opportunity to latch his lips to your throat, biting and sucking at the skin there, surely leaving yet another mark for you to find in the morning. Youâre holding onto him like you might float away if you donât, thighs shaking as overstimulation starts to set inâand yet, when he asks with a low, gruff voice whether you can handle some more, you find yourself nodding vigorously, ready to take whatever he gives you.
âThatâs my girl.â
He slips out of you and you whine at the loss. But he quickly fills you up again, first turning you onto your side as he spoons you from behind, lifting your thigh to grant him better access and pushing into you again with no hesitation. In this position, heâs able to snake an arm around you and play with your clit, making you throw your head back against his shoulder. His pace is gentle at first, as are the kisses he presses to the side of your neck and to your shoulder as he lets you adjust to this new, deeper angle. But it doesnât take long for his rhythm to quicken as he seems to be nearing release himselfâhis thrusts get sloppier, harsher, the sounds he makes more desperate.
You didnât think itâd be possible, but between his fingers on your clit, his dick deep inside you, and his filthy words in your ears, a chasm opens within you once more and you find yourself barrelling towards it at alarming speed. With a few final hard thrusts and the feeling of Jaeyunâs release filling you to the brim, you come undone for the third time tonight, your throat tight and scratchy from moaning so much.
Jaeyun stills inside of you. Without sliding out, he wraps an arm around your middle and brings you closer to him, his hold tight and reassuring. His chest is flush against your back and you feel it rise and fall with each of his breaths; your breathing slowly evens out, eventually matching the rhythm of his. With his fingertips, he draws unintelligible patterns across the skin of your stomach and waist. Tiredness makes your limbs heavy like they could sink right into his mattress. You must be mere seconds away from sleep when you feel him slip out of you. You roll onto your back as he grabs a tissue from his bedside table, cleaning you up gently as he presses a kiss to your temple. âHow do you feel?â he asks. âDo you need anything? Some water? A shower?â
You rest an arm around his waist and wiggle closer to him. âJust you,â you say.
âI can give you that. Easy,â he says, the smile audible in his voice.
.
.
You wake up a few times during the night, unaccustomed to sharing a bed with someone elseâand not just anyone at that, but Jaeyun, whose warm body you find yourself shifting closer to whenever you regain half-consciousness and realize youâre not in his arms anymore. He barely rouses as you nuzzle your face in his neck, an arm coming up to circle your waist to accommodate your body against his. You wish nothing more than to stay like this forever, but unfortunately, your faithful alarm clock rings at nine a.m. and as you reach for your phone to turn it off, Jaeyunâs loose hold on you tightens.
âDonât go yet,â he mumbles, voice muffled against your hair, and his gravelly morning voice sends a shiver right down your spine.
You smile. âIâm not. I can stay ten minutes longer.â
He whines, pulls you in closer to him. Goosebumps appear where his fingers slightly dig into your skin. âThatâs not long enoughâŠâ
âI canât miss my flight, Yun.â
âSure you can,â he says casually, and as he starts to press kisses to your neck, you almost think he might be right. âYou can catch a later one. You can go home next week.â
You hum, lifting your head to grant him better access to your throat, shivering when his teeth graze your sensitive skin. âMy boss might have something to say about that.â
Rolling you onto your back, he drops his forehead on your shoulder with a dramatic sigh. âTen minutes, you said?â he asks, with a roll of his hips so small it could be seen as accidental. But with the way his erection presses into you, thick and firm, you have an inkling it was anything but.
âFifteen if you drive fast,â you say, already starting to get out-of-breath.
âThatâs plenty.â
Neither of you bothered to put on clothes again last night, so he easily slides two fingers between your folds, gathering your slick and trailing them upwards until they reach your clit. He seems satisfied with the wetness he finds there, quickly shifting to fill you up with his dick rather than his fingers. And indeed, fifteen minutes are plentyâin the time it takes for your alarm to ring again, heâs made you come twice, his thrusts deep and precise as though he has a knowledge of your body that dates back years and not a mere day. He releases inside of you with a groan.
It does suck, having to leave so quickly. You wish you could lay in bed with him for hours, take a shower so long it has negative environmental impacts, and have a late, hearty breakfast with him. Unfortunately, you have to speed through everythingâyou need to be at the airport at eleven at the latest, and having not foreseen you wouldnât be spending the night at your aunt, you didnât finish packing before the wedding. He seems to be as aware of this as you are, and although he keeps a smile on his lips at all times, you can see your sadness reflected in his eyes at the thought of having to say goodbye, so soon after finally opening up to each other.
But in a way, you find goodbye easier this time around. As you hug your aunt and thank her for letting you stay â at which she scoffs, saying this will always be as much your house as it is hers â youâre armed with the knowledge that youâre on good terms now, and that youâre not going back to another three years of near radio silence. Itâs not an empty promise that you make her when you tell her youâll be in touch.
Youâve never seen Jaeyun as talkative as on the drive to the airport. He blabbers away, filling every second of silence like his life depends on itâyou donât help him, quiet as can be out of fear of breaking into sobs in the middle of any given sentence. You remind yourself that this goodbye is only temporary, that youâll soon make plans for him to visit, but still, your eyes burn at the thought of going home to an empty apartment and falling asleep in a half-empty bed tonight. He must sense this because he eventually tells you, voice soft and vulnerable, âDonât cry, baby.â
You purse your lips to stop them from trembling, turning away from him so he canât see your frown. âI feel like I already miss you,â you say, so low you wonder if he can even hear you.
âIâll come see you soon. And Iâll text and call you so often every day that you wonât have time to miss me,â he replies, but you can hear it in his tone that he doesnât quite believe what heâs saying, only trying to reassure you, and himself, maybe.
âThatâs impossible,â you mutter. Youâre both silent for the rest of the drive, but his hand in yours is warm, and it does more to comfort you than any words could.Â
He parks at the airport drop-off area and gets your suitcase out of the trunk for you. He wanted to park where he could leave his car longer, and go into the airport with you, but you convinced him that the quicker your goodbye, the better off youâd be. You have the sinking feeling you might burst into tears at any moment, and you donât want his last image of you for the foreseeable future to be one with tears streaming down your cheeks, donât want him to needlessly worry or drive off with a weight on his heart.
He holds you in his arms, hands rubbing reassuring circles on your back. âIâll come up as soon as I can, okay?â he says. âIn less than a month, I promise. Any longer and I might explode.â
You laugh. âI donât want you to explode.â
âNo, thatâd be pretty unfortunate.â
With one final kiss to the pretty lips that youâll be longing for until you see Jaeyun again, you grab the handle of your suitcase and walk towards the entrance of the departures area. âText me when you land, yeah?â he asks.
You nod. âI will.â You just stand there looking at him for a whileâyouâre a bit too sad to appreciate the fact that this is your first openly emotional, tearful goodbye, but part of you basks in knowing the separation isnât hard for you only. âI love you, Yun.â
He smiles, a beautiful mix of sorrow and happiness that you want to commit to memory. âI love you more, angel.â
Every time you turn around, heâs still there leaning against his car, possibly overstaying his time at the drop-off, until youâve walked too far into the airport and canât see him anymore.
.
.
Itâs already dark outside when a text from Minjeong lights up Jaeyunâs phone. Just dropped her off, it says. I tried to stop her from drinking so much, but she said she was going through Jaeyun withdrawals, whatever that means. Anyways sheâs wasted good luck lol
He shakes his head. Heâd be annoyed if he wasnât so excited to see youâheâd told Minjeong to keep you outside for a bit longer after work, not get you drunk. But before he has time to text her back, his phone starts ringing in his hand. Smiling, he picks up, your voice immediately filling his ear.
âJaeyun,â you whine, extending the second vowel for too many secondsâMinjeong wasnât just throwing words around when she said you were wasted. You must be in the elevator by now. He has half a mind to come and get you, just in case youâre stumbling around and pressing the wrong floor numbers, but if Minjeong dropped you off at your building and not your apartment, then you must have some awareness left.
He hopes. Thereâs something important he wants to talk to you about, and heâd rather you were sober for it.
âHi, baby,â he says.
This is apparently the worst thing he could possibly say, sensing as you make a noise halfway between a grunt and a whine. âDonât call me baby when I already miss you this much. Weâve talked about this!â
You definitely havenât. âIâm very sorry,â he says, exaggerating his serious tone, but you donât catch his sarcasm.
âYes, you should be.â The telltale beep of your code being pressed into the keypad breaks the silence of your apartment, and Jaeyunâs heart races with excitement. âIâm coming home now, Minjeong took me to thisââ
Your next words get caught in your throat the moment you step inside your apartment and see him, a few meters away from you in your kitchen. You stay frozen in place, phone still to your ear as he crosses the distance between you, smiling so hard his cheeks ache.
âWelcome home, angel.â
Heâs glad to see you arenât in too much of a wretched state. Even in your wide-gazed surprise, your eyes are a bit clouded over from the alcohol, and you arenât standing quite straight on your feet, but the way Minjeong texted him, he half-expected to find you with vomit on the front of your shirt. He steadies you with a hand to your waist, grabs your wrist gently to bring your arm down now that heâs hung upâand right in front of you.
âYouâre real?â you ask, and when he nods, as though that was all the confirmation you needed, you throw your arms around his neck. âMy Yunie,â you exclaim, voice muffled against his sweatshirt, and he has to bite back his laughter. Even a year and a half into your relationship, thatâs a new one. You still get flustered when a pet name escapes your lips instead of his name. Maybe he should let you get drunk more often.
You suddenly lean back, cupping his face between your palms, eyes slightly narrowed as they drift over every inch of his face, like youâre trying to see whether anythingâs changed. He lets you, a small, endeared smile on his lips, glad for the opportunity to admire you in return.
You press your lips to his, a little more forcefully than you usually would, then rest your head against his chest once more. âWhat are you doing here?â you ask. âDid you know I was missing you extra lately?â
âOf course I did. I always know what youâre thinking.â
âOkay. What am I thinking right now?â
He hums, pretends to think for a little. âThat you love me and are so happy to see me!â
You gasp. âYes! Youâre so smart,â you exclaim, hugging him even tighter.Â
Eventually, he manages to get you out of your coat and shoes, and leads you to the kitchen, where your counter is covered in flour and uncooked, homemade dumplings. He only needs to make a few more until he can start frying them. The rice is already cooked, and a miso and vegetable stew simmers on your stove. You make yourself useful by circling your arms around Jaeyunâs waist, your head resting on his shoulders as you watch him fold dough around a beef galbi filling, your favorite.Â
âDo you wanna go wash up before we eat?â he asks softly, afraid that in your sensitive state, you might take his words the wrong way. But to his surprise, you oblige without a word, giving his cheek a kiss before heading to your bedroom.
When you havenât come back ten minutes later, he goes to check on you, and finds you laying on top of your sheets, feet not even on your mattress but still on your floor like you fell back sitting and just stayed there. Youâve managed to remove your makeup and let down your hair, but you apparently ran out of energy before you could change out of your work clothes. Drool pools at the corner of your open lips.Â
Jaeyunâs heart aches with happiness. Every time he looks at you, even like this â especially like this â all he can think is how badly he wants to spend the rest of his life with you. And with every passing day that you stay with him, that you tell him good morning and good night and I love you, he thinks he might have a shot at it.
He sighs, but thereâs nothing else heâd rather be doing than slipping your trousers and blouse off of your frame and finding a large t-shirt for you to sleep in, then guiding your body underneath your sheets. You wake up once, giggle at yourself, and immediately fall back asleep.
A while later, after heâs cleaned up the kitchen, had a little bit of dinner â on his own, which he knows youâll feel awful about tomorrow â and washed up for bed, he gently closes the door of the bedroom behind him, where youâre still in deep sleep.
So heâll have to wait until the morning to share his news. Itâs alrightâhe has the whole weekend to tell you heâs found the perfect house, not too far from Gimcheon or from Daegu, where your boss has already said you could be transferred. He visited it last week, and in every room, he could picture your future together so perfectly. The kitchen in which heâll make you a late breakfast on lazy Sunday mornings, the room with a beautiful view over a garden that you could turn into an office for your work-from-home days, the bedroom that he could all too well imagine a crib in. Layla could run around in the garden. You could visit your family and friends whenever you wanted. You could be in Seoul in less than two hours with the train if you ever missed it.
Youâve been talking about moving somewhere together for a while now, but heâs still nervous to bring it up. Itâs a huge step, and he can only hope you are as ready as he is to take itâand if you arenât yet, heâll gladly wait for you to be. But as he slips into bed with you, your warm body shifting into his embrace even in sleep, he doubts heâll have to wait long at all. The days of holding back are long goneâever since itâs fully gotten through to you that he wonât ever leave your side if he can help it, youâve opened up to him like never before, let him take care of you like heâs always dreamed of.
He looks down at you and your peaceful sleeping face, his initial dangling on a thin silver chain that youâve worn since you found it again while organizing your jewelry box a few weeks ago. This is enough for now. But one day, if youâll have him, heâll make you his with another piece of jewelry, and falling asleep with you in his arms wonât be a once-in-a-while occurrence anymore.
Itâs more than enough, he thinks as he presses a kiss to your forehead, and lets the soft sound of your breathing lull him into sleep. Itâs everything.
.
.
âMy wife.â
Jaeyunâs voice is a low, possessive grunt in your ear. He says those two words like they hold the most precious meaning in the world, and it makes fire rise deep inside you.
You thought the reason Jaeyun had been so antsy during your journey to Hawaii was because heâd never travelled this far. Youâd chalked up his need to have his hand in yours or resting on your thigh for the entirety of the flight to it being his first time on a long-distance plane. You easily dismissed his clinginess on the drive from the airport to your hotel as his being tired, which always made him a little needier.
But when he pressed his body to yours the moment the door of your hotel room shut behind you, you finally understood what had actually been on his mind this entire timeâthe feeling of his erection, hard and insistent on your lower stomach, left no room for interpretation.
To be fair, since getting married three days ago, in the familiarity of your backyard and surrounded by your loved ones, youâd barely gotten any alone time. Relatives of his that lived far away stayed at your house until yesterday night, and at bedtime every night, either one or both of you were too tired to initiate anything. You havenât had sex since becoming Jaeyunâs wife, and clearly, this has been weighing on your husband.
He kisses you like he has been starving for months, desperate, ravenous, crazed. His arms around you hold you in a tight embrace, your bags haphazardly discarded at your feet. Eventually, he reaches for the back of your thighs and, legs hooked around his waist, carries you to the bed youâll call yours for the next week. You hadnât expected to break it in so quickly, but you wouldnât have it any other way, not when Jaeyunâs tongue laps at your mouth like this, not when his teeth graze your bottom lip so deliciously.
âNeed to touch you so bad, my love. Can I?â he asks, voice breathy.
âYes, Yun, please.âÂ
He slips a hand below your waistband and hums in satisfaction at the wetness he finds there. âAlways so wet for me, arenât you, baby? Always ready for me to fuck you.â
The feeling of his expert fingers on your clit render you unable to reply to himâitâs not like heâs waiting for an answer, anyway. The way you throw your head back and moan his name is all the confirmation he could need.Â
Although youâd be content to go on like this, it seems as though this isnât enough for him. He quickly withdraws his fingers, swallowing your whine of protest with a kiss. Itâs unusual, the speed with which he makes his way down your body until his face is level with your core. He normally likes to take his sweet time with you, trailing kisses all over your skin before giving in to your pleas for more. You take a little pride in knowing that you donât have to begâfor once, heâs the desperate one, heâs the one who canât wait a second longer.
Itâs obscene, and obscenely hot, the way he presses his nose against the crotch of your sweatpants and inhales deeply, a guttural groan escaping his throat. He presses kisses to your inner thighs and core over your clothes before he actually slides them down your thighs, letting them pool at your knees like he doesnât have time to take them off completely. He doesnât bother with your t-shirt, either, simply snaking his hands underneath it until they reach your breasts.
âFuck, Iâve missed this pussy so much,â he mutters, admiring it like it belongs in a museum.Â
You smile. âItâs been, like, four days.â
He shakes his head. âNever going without it for that long again.â
Jaeyun dives into your core, tongue licking a long stripe up your folds before it finds your clit and settles there, alternating between licking and sucking at the sensitive bud, two of his slender fingers quickly sliding inside of you. Your hands find purchase in his hair, tugging at it when a motion of his tongue feels particularly good, hips bucking against his mouth whenever his fingers hit that particularly deep spot inside you. He moans ceaselessly into your core, the vibrations making your thighs shake around his head, as though he needed this as much as you didâif not more. You swear you hear him mutter âmy wifeâ at some point. Embarrassingly quickly, you start to feel that familiar coil of pleasure form low in your stomach, a warm, dizzying buzz spreading throughout your entire body all the way to your fingertips.
Your relief at not having to beg turns out to be short-lived. Jaeyun makes you come on his tongue a first, then a second time, as he is often wont to do. Youâre impossibly sensitive, body heavy and boneless by the third time, but he isnât satisfied. His grip on your hips is firm, and you donât have the energy to fight itânor the willingness, really. Tears stream down your face by the time your fourth orgasm hits you, at which point you canât even tell pleasure from pain anymore. You really do need a break, though, and signal this to your husband â your husband â by lifting his head from your core.
He gives you a few minutes of physical respite, but the words that he whispers against your skin as he presses feverish kisses to your throat and jaw keep you in that hazy, nebulous headspace, and in those few minutes only, you already find yourself reaching for him, cupping his erection over his sweatpants.
You wince when he enters you, overstimulation setting in solely from having him inside you, but you shake your head when he asks if you need a longer break. âWant you, Yun,â you breathe out, holding onto his biceps, nails already digging into his skin.
As he pistons his hips into yours relentlessly, you almost canât believe this is the same man who was standing before you at the altar mere days ago, the sweetest smile on his lips and tears in his pretty eyes. You guess heâs holding true to one of his vowsâhe said heâd never make you doubt how much he loves you, and right now, you canât deny that heâs fucking you like youâre the only woman for him.
You think he must be close when his thrusts speed up and his grunts get louder. And recently, thereâs been a new telltale sign that he was inching closer to his orgasm.
âGonna fill you up, angel. Gonna stuff you full of my cum and make you the prettiest mommy ever. All round and beautiful, and carrying my baby. Show the whole world who you belong to.â
He mutters these words right into your ear just as his breathing gets heavier, more ragged, and seconds later, you feel him spurting ropes of his sperm inside you. When he first started talking to you like this, you assumed it was just long-term relationship dirty talk. But a couple of weeks ago, when you told him you were almost at the end of your last tablet of birth control, he asked how you felt about not renewing your prescriptionâso not just dirty talk, you realized.
He pulls out of you but stays on top of you, catching his breath as he rests his head on your chest and you play with his hair. Eventually, he grabs your left hand, lifts it to his lips, and presses them to your ring finger, right over the silver band. âThank you for marrying me, angel,â he whispers. âYouâve made me the happiest man on Earth.â
You kiss the top of his head, basking in the pleasant warmth of his words, of his scent, of his reassuring weight as he lays on top of you. âIâm the lucky one.â
âWill you still feel lucky when I tell you weâre not leaving this room all day?â
When you lift your head to look at him, heâs wearing a devilish grin. âWhy not?â you ask.
âBecause,â he says, pressing his lips to yours, âIâm fucking the jetlag out of you.â Your body responds to him, heat already starting to swirl in your stomach as though you havenât already taken more than you could handleâyour desire for him is a bottomless well. âAnd, so that in fifteen years, we get to embarrass our kid by telling them they were conceived in Hawaii.â
Needless to say, over the next week, you spend a lot more time in your hotel room than youâd planned, often only going out around noon or coming back halfway through dinnerâwhenever Jaeyun sees that ring around your finger, he seems to need some alone time with you.
He doesn't think he'll ever stop needing alone time with you.
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of all the people in the world - sjy (m)
pairing. sim jaeyun x reader
synopsis. You know you should be ecstatic about the invitation to Chaewonâs and Jaeminâs wedding in your mailbox, but you canât help the nerves gnawing away at your stomach. There are too many things youâve left unresolved after moving to Seoulâyour aunt, your friends, and most of all Sim Jaeyun, the boy youâve never let yourself love.
genre. childhood/high school friends that grow apart to lovers, angsty fluff, small town au, mutual pining bc they're idiots, this is kind of like hometown but different i promise, SMUT MDNI !!!!
warnings. characters are aged up (late 20s), reader is a little clueless but she's doing her best okay, family issues and family member death, jake is exclusively referred to as jaeyun deal with it
word count. 35.3k
author's note. listen to the playlist here + as always a big thank you to @zreamy for beta reading this and freaking out over jaeyun!!! happy very very late birthday can't wait to name my firstborn child after you... Zreamy Lee what a beautiful name... im sure anton will be stoked when i let him know!
Most of the time When he looks at me I change my mind And I donât think he even cares a bit How much I have to give Just as long as Iâm awake To love him every day [...] Of all the people in the world [He] says my name the best Most of the Time, Jackie Evans
From his seat on the couch, Jaeyun stares at the golden inflated balloons spelling out âCongratulations, Y/N!â on the wall of your auntâs living room. The more he stares, the more the capital letters seem to be mocking him.Â
He allows himself one last moment of selfishness, during which he thinks the last thing he wants to do, today or ever, is to congratulate you on getting your one-way ticket out of this town. He downs his fruit punch and winces at the overly sweet, artificial taste, then marches towards the crowd around you, trying on different smiles that might seem convincing. None of them fit.
August is nearing its end already. Summer has always felt lazy, molasses-slow, pleasantly neverending to Jaeyunâthis year, it blinked by him. He closed his eyes as the schoolbell rang for their last ever period; he opens them again and he is here. Wasnât prom just yesterday? Graduation? Did he realize that the last bonfire party was just that, the last?Â
Your birthday isnât for another week, but youâre leaving tomorrow. Everyone huddles around you, eagerly awaiting your reaction as you open gifts. If it wasnât for the presents and the chocolate fudge cake waiting in the fridge, this wouldnât be a birthday party so much as a going-away party. The dreadful words on your wall make that clear: everyone here knows youâre much happier about leaving than about turning eighteen. You said so yourself a few days earlier, and Jaeyun tried his hardest not to burst into tears.
âI can celebrate my birthday every year. Iâll only get accepted into the program of my dreams once.âÂ
You were sitting, just the two of you, atop one of the hills that overlooked your town. Jaeyun knew that when you looked out, you already saw your past, while he could only see his whole life, past, present and future indistinguishable from each other, spreading out for miles and miles and miles.Â
Up until a few months ago, when Jaeyun looked at you, he could only see his whole life. But ever since you received your acceptance letter, he hasnât been so sure. He watched as you celebrated leaving him behind, stayed silent as you raved about your plans for the future. Plans he wasnât a part of. These past months have been the only time seeing you smile made him sad.
He stays at the back of the small crowd, close enough to make out your presents as you unwrap them but not quite joining in. Hands in his back pockets, he wears his best neutral expressionäžif he canât fake a smile, he can at least try and not look so depressed. As your friend, he owes you that much. He might hate every moment of this but heâd feel even worse, knowing he was raining on your parade.
You seem to like your gifts. After spending your teenage years together, your friends know what you like. Scented candles, cute notebooks that youâll probably keep preciously rather than actually use, a personalized calendar for the upcoming school year with a different picture of you and your loved ones every month. Jaeyun shows up a few times in group pictures; itâs just the two of you in April, which is too far away for his liking. Far away enough for you to have forgotten all about him.
As you flip through the calendar, despite your friendsâ protest for the pictures to be a surprise each month, itâs on April that you linger the most. Thereâs a small smile on your face, a sad smile. Your fingers play with the pendant on your necklace, Jaeyunâs gift that he gave you before everyone else even arrived. It was too intimate a gift for him to hand it to you in front of all your friends. He almost died of embarrassment when your eyebrows rose at the sight of the delicate, silver chain, of the letter âJâ hanging off it, and it was just the two of you; if anyone else had been in the room, his shyness wouldâve gotten the best of him, and the jewelry box wouldâve stayed safely tucked in his coat pocket.
You lift your gaze towards him. He didnât even know youâd noticed him joining everyone, and yet your eyes found him immediately. He has no idea what on Earth is going through your head. Are you finally realizing that the days of seeing each other every single day are over? Are you finally figuring him out, how it isnât only friendship that has kept him by your side all these years, but the feeling deep in his gut that he gets whenever he thinks of you?
Do you have that feeling, too?
Your eyes shine. For a second, Jaeyun thinks you might start to cry. Then someone, Miji or Yurim, who knows, says that sheâs on the next page. Your gaze falls back to the calendar in your hands. Your fingers let go of your necklace, and you flip Jaeyunâs page.
.
.
A tight ball of dread has been sitting in your stomach ever since you got that letter in the mail. Youâve tried to rationalize it many ways: it feels weird to receive a wedding invitation, the first from someone out of your childhood group of friends. Even more so when that someone is the girl you called your best friend for all of your teenage years, but you arenât sure you deserve that title anymore. Even more so when youâre 28 and couldnât be further from drafting a wedding invitation yourself.
You know what it really is: itâs the address for the reception, the name of a place in which you havenât set foot in years blinking innocently up at you. Itâs the second piece of paper inside the envelope, a handwritten note asking you to come a few days earlier so that all of you âcan gather just like the good old times.â
Iâm getting married, Y/N. Iâm turning into a proper adult. I just want one last time of feeling like a sixteen year old, and I canât have that without you here. Say youâll be there, pretty please? XX
You remember sighing after reading that note, your brain already coming up with excuses to justify your future absence, fully aware that you wouldnât miss this wedding for the world.Â
Damn Chaewon, you thought then, and still regularly think now. Damn her and her emotional manipulation, as youâve decided to view it, forcing you to make that dreaded trip homeânot that you really consider that place home anymore.
It was a wonder that you and Chaewon were such good friends back then, good enough to still keep in touch throughout your adult lives. Just like every baby in the family, she was born in the upstairs bedroom of their home, the mayorâs daughter, known and loved by everyone in town, and had always adored her small-town life. You showed up out of nowhere at age fourteen, initially making no effort to befriend anyone, annoyed by the whispers that followed you. You wanted to leave as soon as you arrived, and you eventually did; although along the way, Chaewonâs kind-heartedness melted even your ice walls, and you gradually opened the gates to let the other kids in.
For almost a decade, youâve been working to close those gates again. You were almost there; they were barely agape, there was just that tiny thread that kept an infinitesimal part of you tethered to that place, and you were sure it was close to snapping. Chaewon and her damn wedding invitation pushed the gates back open, and it took you all your strength to not look back and walk through again.
You left something there, and you arenât sure youâre ready to retrieve it.Â
The ball of dread, as though tethered to a chain around your ankle, wonât stop following you. Up until now, you hadnât noticed how much everything around you seemed to revolve around romance. The TV you watched. The content on your phone. Couples in the street. Even your work was full of it. Youâre the editor for the Culture and Media segment of Limelight Monthly, the magazine you work at, not Relationships or even Lifestyle, and yet, in the weeks after receiving the invitation, it felt like all your staff could write about were the latest romance novels everyone raved about online, the best reality TV shows about exes getting back together or forever-singles searching for their first love, and which destinations were the most romantic for couples to travel to this summer.Â
You do a good job hiding it at first. Although youâre not as focused as you usually are reading your staffâs articles to greenlight them for publication, two years of doing this job means no typos or clunky sentences pass you by. You make sure to greet everyone with your usual cheer, and you donât miss any Thursday evening afterwork drinks, a tradition of your teamâs. Most of the time, youâre able to relegate Chaewonâs wedding and everything it entails to the back of your mind, but itâll come back up at random moments. Youâll be filling the kettle for tea in the communal kitchen when a certain face will fill the forefront of your thoughts; your heart will start beating uncontrollably, and before you know it, water will be overflowing from the kettle and onto your hands. Youâll stare at the awfully familiar name of a book character in one of your coworkersâ reviews and only snap out of it once someoneâs called your name three times in a row, like being summoned out of a trance.Â
These moments are few and far between, but they add up. When your coworkers ask you whether everythingâs okay, at first, itâs lighthearted, like theyâre just curious about what got you so lost in your thoughts. Slowly, eyebrows start to furrow, concern starts creeping in their eyes and voice. Youâre one zone-out away from an intervention. A few days ago, you overheard Juhee and Haewon, your teamâs two most recent recruits, whispering in the break room about their concern for your well-being: âI think she goes home and just, I donât know, has takeaway and white wine in front of her TV.â
Theyâre wrong about the takeaway. Youâre actually a pretty decent cook. The rest of their sentiment, however⊠Well.
It takes Minjeong, your favorite coworker-turned-friend, a couple of weeks before she decides to take matters into her own hands. One Tuesday after work, she waits for you outside the buildingâs main entrance, and as soon as you step outside, grabs your wrist and drags you to the subway station thatâll lead both of you to her apartment. âIâm making you chicken alfredo and youâre telling me what the hell is wrong with you,â she says before you can protest.
You wrench your wrist out of her grasp, shrug on the bag strap that had fallen off your shoulder with a discontented huff, and follow her anyway. âFine, but Iâm only coming for the chicken alfredo.â
âIâll tie you down to the chair until you speak.â
âKinky.â
She halts dead in her tracks in the middle of the busy street, ignoring the nasty stares from the other homebound office workers heading for the station. She turns to face you, wearing a severe expression. âIâve known you for five years, and youâve never cried in front of me. Not even when we watched Titanic.â
Nonplussed, you reply, âI already knew how it ended.â
âThatâs not the point. Itâs usually impossible to get a read on you, so when not one or two, but three people come up to me and ask whether youâre alright, that means somethingâs seriously wrong. Iâd be a terrible friend if I didnât try to find out what that was.â
You hesitate. Youâre embarrassed that youâve been so obvious, and that youâre even this upset in the first place. Who on Earth has such a hard time being happy about her childhood best friendâs upcoming wedding? Your first reaction shouldâve been to call Chaewon and rave with her and ask for all the details. You should be sending her pictures of potential dresses and asking her which one fits her color palette the best. You shouldnât be needing the aforementioned intervention.
It isnât like you have to follow Minjeong and air your dirty laundry out to her. If it came to it, your couple inches over her might help you win a physical fight. But something about her sincere concern makes you foldâhow long has it been since you let someone worry about you like this? Long enough that you forgot how nice it feels, apparently.
She must sense a shift in your demeanor, because she relaxes. âLetâs go,â she says, and this time, she doesnât need to drag you with her.
From the moment you met Minjeong, you knew she came from money. It wasnât that she flaunted it or appeared out-of-touch with reality; she just had a way of moving through the world with the air of confidence of someone who knew they belonged, who was used to getting what they wanted. It also helped that she often came to work with a new designer bag and always had flawless hair and nails.
It intimidated you at first, the way she seemed to have worked in this office her whole life, whereas it took you weeks before you stopped being so eager to please and be overly polite with everyone. But it quickly became clear that although you found her infinitely cool, she wasnât cold. You didnât work for the same segment, but you spent your lunch breaks together, getting scolded by your respective bosses more than once for coming back half-an-hour late; you would often be so busy talking, you wouldnât keep track of the time.
But it wasnât until you stepped inside her apartment for the first time that you realized just how wealthy she, or her family, was. She lived in one of the fanciest neighborhoods of town, in an apartment that you could hardly afford now as an editor, let alone when you were just starting out at the magazineâyet sheâd been living there since graduating from university. Itâs on the top floor of a brand new apartment complex and composed of three bedrooms and two bathrooms, a ridiculously large open plan kitchen and living room, and a balcony with possibly the best view over the city youâve ever seen. Her furniture looked and felt expensive, and it made you dizzy trying to figure out how much the artwork that hung on her walls and decorated her shelves mustâve cost. To this day, you havenât been brave enough to ask.
When you step inside her apartment today, she wastes no time before ordering you to sit at the kitchen island. You watch as she grabs a bottle of wine from the fridge, hesitates, then puts it back. Instead, she grabs a bottle of gin and an unopened one of tonic from a cupboard, two glasses and some ice from the freezer. You smile and sit silently as she expertly pours two drinks. âHere,â she says, sliding a glass towards yours. âI thought you might want something stronger.â
âShould I be worried you just have this on hand?â you tease.
She rolls her eyes. âItâs for emergencies like these, obviously.â You clink your glasses and take a wonderful sip. Then, she looks you straight in the eyes and says, âSo, tell me whatâs been on your mind.â
So you do.
You tell her about the wedding invitation and what it entails: travelling back to the town you used to live in, having to face everyone you left behind there. You keep things vague. You donât name names, or dump your entire backstory on her; you simply tell her you didnât have the best relationship with your aunt when you left, and phone calls between the two of you have been few and far between in the time youâve moved away. And that this goes for a few other people from home, namely one other person.
Of course, this isnât enough for Minjeong. She prods, and prods, and prods, until you finally give in. With a sigh and a heavy gulp of your wine, you ask, âWhere do you even want me to start?â
She smiles. âFrom the beginning.â
You stare each other off for a few beats. Even as your instincts tell you to keep your mouth shut, a small voice at the back of your mind says, For once, why not?
âI donât⊠talk about this,â you say, voice shaky.
Worry knots Minjeongâs eyebrows together. âIs it that bad?â
âItâs not that itâs bad,â you reply quickly to reassure her. âI just donât like even thinking about it. So talking about it⊠Well, that forces me to think about it, doesnât it?â
âListen,â Minjeong says, walking over to your side of the island, resting her hand over yours. âIf you really donât want to talk about it, I wonât force you. But from what I can tell, itâd do you some good.â She takes a deep breath, then speaks all in one go. âAlso Iâm dying to know. Iâm not supposed to tell you this but everyone at the office has a theory about where you come from because you never talk about it.â
When you gasp, she shakes her head and squeezes your hand. âI promise everything said here will stay here. Iâd derive much more satisfaction from being the only one knowing about your past than blabbing about it to everyone anyway.â
For some reason, this works on you. Maybe Minjeong feels trustworthy enough. Or maybe you know sheâs right, you know itâll do you good to speak about it, to release some of the burden.
âOkay.â
You really do start from the beginning, and work your way up from there. Why you had to move to Gimcheon without your parents. Why it was difficult living with your aunt, and why you could hardly make friends at first. Why it was your sole goal in life to move back to Seoul at eighteen, and why with every passing year, the thought of leaving became harder and harder. Why you did it anyway.Â
What it cost you.
It feels strange to speak so much at once, and about yourself. Minjeong is plating dinner as youâre wrapping your story up. She has so many questions, it takes you almost an hour to finish your food. But you find yourself readily answering every one of them; youâve gone this far already, so you might as well give her the fullest picture you can.
Oddly enough, itâs perhaps her easiest question that has you hesitating the most. Itâs the end of the night, and youâre surprised your eyes have stayed dry throughout it; but when she asks you this, your nose starts to prickle.
âWhatâs this guyâs name, anyway? Weâve talked so much about him, and youâve only referred to him as your friend.â
You canât help but smile even as the word tugs sharply on your heartstrings.Â
âJaeyun.â
.
.
As the date of the wedding approaches, the tight knot of nerves in your stomach grows bigger. The evening before your flight, it takes you hours to fall asleep, your packed suitcase next to your bed startling you every time you lay eyes on it. You sleep fitfully for three hours, then a never-ending loop of worst-case scenarios plays in your head as you go through the motions of getting yourself ready and to the airport. An older woman sits next to you on the plane; anxiety must be emanating from you like a bad odor for her to rest a kind hand on your shoulder and tell you that domestic flights like these are very safe, that sheâs flown many times and that nothing badâs ever happened. You donât have it in you to tell her, a total albeit nice stranger, that itâs not the journey thatâs worrying you so much, but the destination.
Stepping inside the airport at Daegu feels surreal. The few times youâve traveled between Seoul and Gimcheon, you droveâbut Chaewon forced you to fly down, saying you couldnât just get in your car and leave if you suddenly felt like it. You didnât tell her you could almost just as easily get a same-day flight, if it really came down to it.
You hope it wonât.
The airport is so relatively unbusy, so it doesnât take you too long before you arrive at the parking lot, eyes searching for your aunt and her green little car that sheâs always driven and that has somehow yet to break down.Â
But itâs another familiar face that your eyes land on.Â
The sight feels like a punch to the gut. For a few seconds, you swear you stop breathing, the sound of your heartbeat so loud in your ears that it cuts off all other noise around you, of planes taking off, people reuniting, car doors slamming shut.
You werenât supposed to see him so soon. You were supposed to meet your aunt, go through a slightly awkward car ride, maybe have your first adult conversation with her now that you werenât, or at least less of, an angsty teen. You were then supposed to get ready, both mentally and physically, for seeing all of your friends at once again, for seeing him. Who was standing in front of his car, staring at you with a small smile that kept breaking your heart over and over again, clearly here to pick you up.
He lets you stare back. Lets you stand there, mouth agape in shock, fingers wrapped so tight around the handle of your suitcase that your nails dig into the skin of your palm. You werenât supposed to see him so soon. You didnât get enough time to prepare, to adjust to being here, and now youâre standing there dumbly like youâve just seen a ghost.
In a way, you have.
You regain part of your senses. When you try to say his name, your voice is hoarse, and it comes out as a whisper, barely audible even to you. So you clear your throat, try a second time.
âJaeyun.â
The name feels clumsy on your tongue, like a foreign language you once knew but lost due to lack of practice. And yet, when he smiles and says your name back to you, it sounds so right, like no one else is as deserving of saying it as he is.
âHi, Y/N.â
Your feet move of their own accord as they step towards him; he mirrors you, and in mere seconds youâre face-to-face with him, and when he reaches out you think he might hug you but all he does is take your suitcase from you and roll it to the trunk of his car. A sigh escapes your lips, but youâre unsure whether it's one of disappointment or of relief.
âThere was an emergency at the hospital, so Auntie asked me to pick you up. I hope itâs okay with you,â he explains. You watch, transfixed, as he closes the trunk, then walks over to the passenger side, opening the door and motioning for you to go in.
You nod. âYeah, itâs okay. Thank you.â
Instead of walking right away to his side of the car, he stays there, one hand on top of the door as you take a seat and fasten your seatbelt. âItâs no worries,â he says finally before gently shutting your door.
There are so many things to think about. Usually, youâd get hung up over the fact that even on the day of your coming back home for the first time in years, your aunt still prioritizes her job over you, or over the fact that Jaeyun still calls her Auntie, despite the resolve youâve had since you were fourteen of calling her by her first name, and her first name only.
Now, as the boy â the man â beside you starts the car, hands steady compared to your trembling ones, a peaceful expression on his face, all you can think about is the improbability of it all, of being back here, of being next to Jaeyun of all people and not knowing what to say to him. If someone had told you ten years ago, that one day a reunion with Jaeyun would mean silence and cramp-inducing nerves, you would have either laughed them off, or been scared into never leaving at all.Â
Your mind conjures an infinite list of conversation starters, but none of them seem good enough. Theyâre all too relaxed, too intense, too inappropriate for a situation like this. Like a fish out of water, you keep opening your mouth to say something, only to close it when you decide not to.Â
Jaeyun being this quiet only makes things worse. If thereâs one thing about him, itâs that heâs always talking like he canât get the words out fast enoughâbut maybe itâs been too long for you to speak with any authority about what Sim Jaeyun is like. You know youâve changed a lot in ten yearsâhow can you expect him to be the same boy you left? You canât even tell whether heâs just calmer now or if heâs decided to torture you by silence.Â
As he keeps his eyes on the road ahead of him, you risk furtive glances, trying to assess how much about him mightâve changed. Thereâs still something of the boy who used to split clementines with you in the winter, who would whisper the answers to you when you got called on in class and blanked. Heâs grown into his features, heâs learned how to style his hair, but his kind smile and eyes havenât changed in the slightest. You still find yourself inexplicably drawn to everything about him, even the small cut on his jawline, probably from shavingâyour fingers crave to feel it, this sign of a private life that you havenât been privy to for years. That you havenât been a part of.
Minutes pass by like eternity. Heâs only pulling out of the parking lot and joining the freeway and youâre already wondering how youâll survive the twenty-minute car ride to your auntâs. Thankfully, Jaeyun eventually puts an end to your agony.Â
âThereâs so much I want to tell you that I donât know where to start.â His voice is low, infused with a kind of timidity youâve rarely heard from him. It seems to reflect your feelings exactly, and youâre so relieved you could cry.Â
A small chuckle escapes your throat. âMe too,â you say, glancing at him briefly, avoiding his gaze by the fraction of a second. Itâs hard enough being in an enclosed space with him; eye contact isnât an option right now. Every time his eyes flick over to you, the side of your face heats up so much you think it might melt right off.
âHowâhow are you?â he asks.
Youâre not sure whether he means right now, or in generalâbut you donât really feel like examining your feelings about being back here more than you already have, and especially not in front of Jaeyun, so you go for the second meaning.
âGood,â you say. âEverythingâs going well at work. And Iâve got a few really great friends. What about you?â
A few beats pass without his answerâin the corner of your eye, you see his head swivel back-and-forth between the road and your face. âWhat, thatâs it?â he finally says with a small, disbelieving chuckle. âThe last time I saw you was three years ago. Surely you have more to say than that.â He doesnât sound angry, just genuinely eager to get more information out of you. But his words make you angry at yourself, because they remind you that itâs your fault you know so little about each otherâs lives now. Itâs not for his lack of trying, and you both know thatâsince you left ten years ago, his unwavering kindness and lack of resentment towards you has surprised you every time youâve seen him again.Â
âI donât know, nothingâs really happened. I was promoted pretty recentlyââ
âOkay, thatâs definitely not nothing. Congratulations, Y/N. You deserve it.â
Theyâre words youâve heard a hundred times before, but coming from him, they sound so heartfelt, like he truly is proud and happy for you, that you canât help but soften at them. Smiling, you say, âYouâve never seen me at work. Maybe I slack off all day and hand in everything late.â
âIâve seen you in high school, and thatâs enough to know youâd rather pull out your hair strand by strand than hand in anything a minute late.â
You laugh, and when he turns his head to look at you, this time, you mirror him. He can only keep his eyes off the road for so long, but a second is all you need. Your gazes meet, and heâs wearing one of your favorite smiles of his, the one that makes you feel like heâs really glad to see you again, and a weight is suddenly taken off your shoulders.
Maybe this wonât be so bad after all.
Thankfully, the remainder of the car ride is much less awkward than its first few minutes.You find Jaeyun to be as talkative as ever, not shy in the slightest to tell you about everything going on in his life, from the arguments he gets into with his colleagues â which happen to mostly be members of his family â to the hikes heâs been going on more frequently now that heâs adopted a dog, a Border Collie he says you have to meet.Â
Your nerves are appeased. The last time you saw Jaeyun three years ago, it was for his grandmotherâs funeral. She was the main reason heâd stayed hereâback in high school, heâd had vague plans of moving to Seoul after graduating from university in Daegu. But when she got sick, with his brother abroad and his parents working hard to afford the hospital bills, he decided there should be someone to keep her company and take care of her, and that someone would be him. You could count on one hand the number of times youâd been back, and when she passed was one of them. He tried to keep a brave front, smiling as he greeted and thanked everyone for coming, but you could see right through the facade, although itâd been a long time since you could call yourself a close friend of his.
You only stayed three days. The night before you went back to Seoul, you went over to his apartment to make him dinner. In front of you, he let it all outâheâd always cried easily, but never like this. You spent so much time comforting him and offering him your shoulder that in the end, you could only make him a bowl of pasta with tomato sauce that he barely ate half of. You knew only too well what sort of pain he was going through. While your brain has wiped most of your memories of the events soon following your parentsâ deaths, you remember the hurt that lasted months, years, that still comes back now from time to time, when you least expect it. It was partly thanks to Jaeyunâs friendship that your grief was easier to overcomeâas you got to know him and your new classmates, he took your mind off of things little by little, until one afternoon, you came home from school and realized you hadnât felt suddenly sad or irrationally angry the entire day.
The moment you left him that night, his cheeks tear-stained and his eyebrows furrowed even in sleep, you made a promise to yourself that youâd be there for him at twenty-five as he was for you at fourteen, despite the distance that separated you. You texted him everyday, called three times in a row if he didnât answer, made sure your mutual friends checked up on him often.Â
But Jaeyun was, is strong and he had amazing people surrounding him, people heâs known his entire life and that have his back. He was back on his feet soon, sooner than you expected, for how close he was to his grandmother. Because of, or thanks to that, when you felt like he didnât need you to look after him anymore, you only felt a little guilty for pulling away. More accurately, the guilt ate relentlessly at you, but you had excuses to make yourself feel better. His dad made all his favorite dishes. Jaemin took him out fishing. A neighbor of his had a dog who gave birth, and he adopted one of the pups. With or without you, he was going to be fine.
You didnât mind looking after him. But as soon as you felt like you were relying on him, you panicked. And you were starting to look forward to your weekly calls far too much for your liking. So you reached out less often. It was a busy time at work â when wasnât it, after all? â and you buried yourself in it so that when you told him you were too busy to call or to head back for the weekend, you werenât lying.
Things went back to the way they were for the seven previous years. You were as relieved as you were heartbroken.
You look at him now, listening to his lively rants with a smile on your face, thinking how glad you are it all turned out okay. The sadness of being apart from him, the longing of missing him, youâd do it all again if it meant heâd be laughing like this in the end.
Parked in front of your auntâs house, Jaeyun turns off the ignition and turns to you. âDo you want me to come in with you?â he asks.
How easily you fall back into your old ways. Twenty minutes with him and you feel like a teenager again, annoyed with him for being so nice, so unrelentingly nice, annoyed at your stupid heart for beating up a storm in your chest every time he so much as smiles at you. You want desperately to say yes. To have someone to lean on as you walk into the house that contains so many bad memoriesâfights with your aunt followed by silence, the feeling of loneliness that pervaded your teenage years and that you havenât quite managed to shake off. Itâd be so nice to have Jaeyun there with youâand judging from the concern on his face, he seems to know how you feel.
But you canât let him, because you canât let yourself need him. Not again. Not when you already know how it ends.
You smile and shake your head, ignoring the disappointment that flashes across his features. âItâs okay. I donât wanna take up more of your time.â He looks like heâs going to say something, so you quickly add, already opening the passenger door, âIâll see you later for the reunion, yeah? Thank you for the ride, Yun.â
With a sigh, he lets go of whatever it was he wanted to say. âOf course. Anytime.â
He gets out of the car even though you tell him not to, and helps you with your suitcase, which really isnât that heavy. You can tell that your declining his offer has dampened his enthusiasm somewhat, and yet, he waits until youâre at the front door, one hand on the handle, the other waving him goodbye, to drive away. As though he wanted to keep an eye on you for as long as he couldâand so do you. You watch his car get smaller until it disappears around a corner. Then, inhaling and exhaling deeply, you turn the key you havenât used in years inside the keyhole and push the door open.
The first thing you notice is the unchanging smell of the house. Like the cleaning product your aunt uses, and a slight stale odor of food, because she always forgets to crack open a window or turn on the oven fan when she cooks. Plus a scent specific to the house that reminds you of your aunt, of the clothes she wears, of the blanket she covers herself with while she watches reality TV after particularly long shifts.
Gently closing the door behind you, you stand in the entrance for a while, letting yourself take the time you need to get used to this place again. Youâre glad your aunt isnât home to usher you in and pretend sheâs happier to see you than she is, or that you didnât let Jaeyun accompany you. You donât want anyone, least of all him, to witness you looking around the house like itâs the first time you step foot in it.
Everything is the same as ever. Same furniture, same photos in the frames, same wallpaper, which make the few novelties even more striking. A plant in the corner of the living room, a new, more modern kettle in the kitchen. The black-and-white, low quality scan of your first ever article printed in Limelight is still displayed on the fridge, held up by the Brisbane magnet seventeen-year-old Jaeyun gifted you after he came back from visiting his family there.Â
You make your way upstairs slowly, holding onto the wooden rail for support, more emotional than physical. Your bedroom is a time capsule of your time in Gimcheon, with the same plain purple bedsheets your aunt bought before you arrived, the same posters of the boybands fifteen-year-old you obsessed over on your walls, the same fantasy series you used to devour during summer break on your shelves. You canât help but crack a smile at the sight of it all. In all the times youâve come back to this house, youâve never had it in you to change anything about this room. You want to keep it preciously, as if changing anything about it would change the memories associated with it, both good and bad.
Losing both of your parents at once had made you anything but an insouciant teenager. You were overly serious and reserved, grief forcing you to grow up far before any kid should have to. And yet, standing in this room, you remember the fleeting moments during which your biggest worries were a pimple on your chin or a test in a subject you didnât like.Â
For all your grievances against your aunt, you wouldâve turned into a much different person if she hadnât taken you in back then. Your dadâs family lived in another country, and you knew from conversations with your aunt that she and your mother didnât have the best relationship with their parents. Their brother had three kids of his own, whereas your aunt had none; it only made sense for her to welcome you into her house. When you were mad at her, you told yourself it was only her moral and legal obligation to take care of you as your closest relative, but when you were feeling more generous â which, for fifteen-year-old you, could be rare â you realized that having a comfortable room to yourself and cupboards always stocked with your favorite snacks was something to be grateful for.Â
And there were the friends you made here, whose pictures fill five entire photo albums. They made everything more tolerable, and even fun, when you allowed it to be. Of course, you would have never told them that, back thenâyou liked your cold exterior and the way they saw right through it.Â
Setting down your suitcase by your bed, you decide to go through the photo albums you assiduously filled back in high school instead of putting your things away. Itâs a better way to settle in and get yourself readyâyour nerves dissipate as you flip the pages, bright pictures blink up at you, of your friends at each othersâ houses, at the park on weekends, at the corner store after school. Youâre not in many of the pictures, usually hidden behind the camera, exaggeratedly frowning when Jaeyun managed to pry it from your hands and forced you in the frame.
He never heeded your protests when he wanted to swap places so you could be in the pictures you so often took. You remember the puppy eyes heâd make at you, which had no business being so effective, and the way heâd rest his larger hands on yours on the camera. Too unaccustomed to the feeling of your heartbeat speeding up, you would quickly hand it over to him then, turning away from him so he wouldnât see the obvious effect his touch had on you. It didnât help that heâd always show you the photo afterwards, pointing at you on the small screen, grinning as he said, âSee? You look pretty,â even though fear of being unphotogenic wasnât the reason you didnât like your picture to be taken.
Soon, your anxiety at seeing your friends and ex-classmates, after so long of making yourself unavailable to them, is almost entirely gone, replaced by excitement. There remains a pang of shame, especially at the thought of seeing Chaewon. How long had it been since youâd called her when you received that wedding invitation? Like Jaeyun, you know she wonât even be really mad, and that makes it worseâshe might make a light-hearted quip about it, but itâs as though theyâre scared that lecturing you about being MIA might only push you away further.
You tell yourself thereâs nothing to be scared about. The people youâll see tonight are but older versions of the people smiling at the camera, at you, in your photo albums.Â
You flip to a picture of you and Jaeyun taken without your knowledge, by Yunjin, if you remember correctly. Both of you sport wide smiles, the neon lights of the arcade game you were playing reflecting on your faces. It was his phoneâs home screen for ages.
Youâre so immersed in this trip down memory lane that you lose track of timeâwhen the front door opens and your aunt calls out your name, two hours have passed already. Pushing your awkwardness to the side, you let her hug you and repeat her words back to her when she tells you she missed you. You did miss her, but you only realize it once the familiar scent of her hair. Sheâs a creature of habitâshe still uses the shampoo she used when you first moved here at fourteen.Â
She was only twenty-six back then, younger than you are now. You donât know if you could deal with a temperamental, grieving teenager while youâd just lost your sister yourself.Â
âHow was the trip down? Iâm sorry I couldnât come and get you at the airport. I sent Jake instead, I figured you wouldnât mind if it was him,â she rattles, already filling the kettle for tea. This is so like her, saying a million things at once, always busying herself with something. You know that in an hour, when you leave for Chaewonâs house, sheâll settle herself on the couch and wonât leave it for the remainder of the evening, drained from her shift at the hospital.Â
âIt was fine, I didnât have any problems with my flight,â you reply, taking the knife from her hands and taking over the apple-cutting. âThere was an emergency at work?â
She sighs. âYeah, you know how weâre so understaffed in the summer. Some teenagers were messing around in a house under construction, and fell through a floor that wasnât done. No big injuries, but they needed an extra person to deal with parents and paperwork. At least I got to see these little shits get the talking-to of their life,â she says, making you laugh. She reaches for something in the cupboard, pulls out a packet of your favorite chocolate-flavored snacks from back then. âI got you these, if you want.â
âWow, I havenât eaten these in ages,â you say, chuckling at the familiar cartoon turtle on the bag.
âDo you not like them anymore?â
âNo, no, I do,â you say quickly to make your auntâs worried expression go away. âI just canât eat a bag in one sitting like I used to anymore, and they go stale too soon.â
She chuckles. âThatâs being an adult for you. I got a stomachache from a can of Coke the other day. Just one.â
You have time to spare before you need to start getting ready for Chaewonâs, so you sit at the dinner table together and catch up. The conversation floats somewhat on the surface of things, more about what youâve been doing than how youâve been doing. Youâre overly polite, keeping a distance for her sake more than your own, unsure how happy she really is to have you hereâand you have the feeling she thinks the same of you. The memory of your last fight hangs heavy in the air between you two, unspoken but tangible.
Itâs been easier talking to her since you moved away than it ever was when you lived here. You guess distance really does make the heart grow fonder, more willing to forgive and make amendsâthat, and growing up. Even after your fight, which you quickly understood had only happened because you let your emotions get the best of you after seeing Jaeyun in such a dishevelled state from losing his grandmother, you can have a normal conversation like this. Itâs a far cry from the silence that could stretch on for days when you were in high school.
Like with most dreaded things, you belatedly realize how much time you wasted stressing out about coming home, when there was nothing to worry about. Your mind had made up all sorts of scenarios, like your aunt would start yelling at you the moment you came through the door, rehashing your argument, or would barely give you the time of day during your entire stay. Itâs as though you forgot she was always the one who knocked on your door with a slice of takeaway pizza or a piece of buttered toast when you were being moody and wouldnât come down to eat. Who took you out for ice cream when she felt bad for being so caught up in work youâd hardly seen her all week. Who recorded your Saturday evening dramas on the TV while you were over at a friendâs house.
Youâve still got some talking to do, but it might not be as hard as you thought it would.
Fresh out of the shower, youâre changing into a nicer outfit and putting on light makeup when a text from Jaeyun lights up your phone. Heâs asking if you want a ride from him, which you declineâyour auntâs house is out of his way and itâs only a ten-minute bike ride for you, which you find yourself quite excited to go on, for purely nostalgic reasons.
Ok :) Iâll see you later, he texts back, and your stomach twists with both apprehension and giddiness. Having him there will make things so much easier, and yet the thought of spending prolonged time in his vicinity makes you unreasonably nervous.
Itâs just Jaeyun, you tell yourself, the guy who drooled on his textbook when he fell asleep in class. Who never got mad unless, in true soccer player fashion, felt another player had committed an unforgivable offense against him. Who insisted on watching horror movies then spent them with his face behind his hands.
You catch yourself smiling in the mirror and shake your head.
It really does feel like youâve been transported back to ten years ago as you wish your aunt a good evening and hop onto your bike, still in its same spot, resting against the side of the house, then ride down the streets youâll always know by heart. Gimcheon is at its prettiest during this time of year, the trees plump, their leaves dark green, the flowers bright. The summer evening breeze is warm on your skin, and the sun, low in the sky, casts a beautiful golden light on everything around you.
Itâs not long before you reach Chaewonâs houseâitâs still amazing to you how you can stand in front of it and say, yes, my friend owns this house. It actually belongs to herâand her fiancĂ©, Jaemin, of course. You donât know of a single person your age in Seoul who owns their apartment, except for Minjeong, but sheâs just exceptionally well-off. Itâs a nice, traditional house, with a wooden porch around the front where you know Chaewon, a Korean Nara Smith if youâve ever met one, will make gochujang and soy sauce from scratch once sheâs less busy with work and wedding preparations.Â
The gate is ajar, so you slide it further and let yourself in, calling out your friendâs name tentatively. Immediately you hear footsteps from inside the house, Chaewon squealing your name before she comes barrelling through the door and running towards you. She practically flings herself at you, and you stumble back a few steps as you catch her, laughing at her enthusiasm.
âUgh, Iâm so happy youâre finally here!â she exclaims, squashing the side of her face onto yours.
âIâm happy to be here, too,â you reply, chuckling. âThank you for the heartfelt welcome.â
Hands on your shoulders, she leans back, assesses you head-to-toe. You follow her gaze, wondering if the mid-thigh sundress you chose was a good decision. Is it too much cleavage? At your all-female workplace, there is no such thing as too much cleavage. âYou look good.â
âOkay, no need to sound so surprised.â
âIâm not!â she says, laughing. âOkay, a little bit, Iâm sorry. I thought youâd look all dishevelled like those busy city girls in the movies. Running around, getting coffee, whatever it is city people do. Thatâs what you look like when you FaceTime me after work.â
You sigh. âThatâs great to hear, Chae, thanks.â
âNo, donât take it the wrong way, itâs hot! But itâs nice to see you like this, with your hair down instead of your buns so tight they snatch your eyebrows.â
You frown. âI like my tight buns.â
âSo do I,â she says, tapping your butt with a cheeky smile. Before you can protest, she takes your hand and leads you into the house. âCome on, weâve made some changes inside, let me show you.â
âAm I the first person here?â you ask. The house is empty save for you and her, and probably Jaemin, somewhere.
She smiles at you mischievously. âOf course. Weâre going to catch up first. And who the hell starts a party at 6 p.m. anyway?â
Chaewonâs presence is everywhere around her house, from the white gauze curtains that flutter in the wind to the trinkets that line the shelves of a cupboard passed down onto her from her grandparents. There are new pieces of furniture here and there, and a nice patterned rug in the living room, but the biggest change has been done to the kitchen. Itâs been fully renovated to be more modern since you were last here, and itâs fully functional now, with everything she needs to make her homemade bread and her thousand side dishes that accompany every one of her meals. Itâs a good thing Jaeminâs a nice personâyou staunchly believe that not many people are deserving of the kind of care Chaewon is able to provide. You remember making that very clear when you came to visit for the holidays, and got a little too drunk with Chaewon for New Yearâs Eveâyou canât recall exactly what you said to him, but he could hardly look you in the eye for the remainder of your stay, so it mustâve left an impression.
Thereâs barely an inch of free space on the counter, and the fridge isnât faring much better. All sorts of salads and dips, meat and vegetable skewers, marinating chicken thighs, and of course, cupcakes. Tons of cupcakes. She doesnât let you lingerâJaemin walks into the kitchen, and youâve barely hugged him hello and exchanged niceties with him that sheâs already dragging you someplace else, telling rather than asking her fiancĂ© to finish getting the food ready.
She sits you down on a chair outside then heads back in, telling you sheâll be right back. It gives you some time to admire her backyard, the way itâs all been set up for tonight, cute cushions on the patio sofas, fairy lights strung in the trees, ribbons on the fence around her vegetable patch. Even back in high school, she grew green onions and avocados on the window sill of her parentsâ kitchen. Youâre excessively moved knowing that she has a whole garden to tend to now. Itâs so easy to picture her, wearing a sunhat as she waters and adds soil to her plants.Â
When she comes back out, itâs with two glasses of suspiciously pink liquid in her hands. She sees your weary expression and says, âDonât worry, you can barely taste the alcohol in it.â
âThatâs exactly what Iâm worried about,â you reply, but take a sip anyway. God knows youâre going to need some liquid courage to face tonight. Itâs overly sweet, tasting mostly of strawberry syrup, and almost not at all of the vodka and prosecco Chaewon says she put in. Fine with you.
She launches straight away into her usual interrogation. Itâs less daunting, because you can expect itâevery reunion with Chaewon means sheâs going to have a thousand questions for you if you donât turn the subject around on her at some point. She wants to know all of the office gossip as though she has personal stakes in who your coworkers are dating and what the workplace dynamics are like. She asks about your daily life, your friends, whether youâre seeing anyone.
âIâd have told you if I had a boyfriend, Chae,â you say.
She shrugs, a little sheepish. âI donât know. Thereâs lots of things you donât tell me about, you knowâŠâ
There it is, the sharp pang of guilt in your stomach. The summer breeze suddenly feels cold on your bare skin, the stillness of the countryside oppressive. Up until now, it felt like barely a few weeks had passed since youâd last seen Chaewon, but reality catches up to you now, with its distance and silences, the ones you imposed between the two of you. âIâm sorry,â you say quietly.
âNo, Iâm not mad!â she exclaims, panicked. âIâm just saying, I donât know so much about your life anymore, so this could be something I donât know about either⊠Iâm making this worse, arenât I?â she asks when she sees the pained look on your face.
You shake your head. âYouâre right, though. I know I should call more often, I justâŠâ
âWant to put this all behind you, I get it. You always talked about wanting to go back to Seoul in high school, so Iâm happy youâre able to thrive there now,â she says, although thereâs an edge to her voice that you know means sheâs more hurt than she wants to let on.
âBut it isnât fair to you.â
She shrugs again. When she looks at you, thereâs a small smile on her face that looks a little too forced. For as long as youâve known her, Chaewon has been wholly averse to conflictâthis is probably the hardest sheâll scold you for being so absent. But because itâs from her, itâs an effective reminder to be a better friend.
You canât help but put everything and everyone here in the same corner of your mind. You thought that to move on from one person, youâd need to move on from everyone, even Chaewon. You can only hope itâs not too late to start realizing how much of a fool youâve been.
âLook, I didnât get you all the way here to talk about this. I just wanna know how youâve been.â
âIâve been good, Chae, really. And now itâs your turn to present your life to me in excruciating detail.â
She chuckles and says, âFine, but weâll need a refill for this.â
âWhat? Has it been bad?âÂ
In the doorway, she turns around to look at you. âOh, not for me. My lifeâs been so awesome that youâll need to drink your jealousy away, babe.â
And indeed, when she comes back and tells all about her life recently with a dreamy look in her eyes, it isnât that youâre jealous per se, but that you realize this is the life a lot of people wish forâmarried with a nice house before thirty, and children soon, if you know her at all. And you agree these things sound nice, but theyâre not what you want for yourself right now. Sure, there have been hurdles: her parents-in-law are pretty conservative, but Jaemin always stands up for her, and her job as an elementary school teacher can be very tiring, but, she says, âhaving someone like him to come home to makes everything so much easier.â Sheâs always had a sentimental streak to her, but this close to the wedding, you can tell her love for Jaemin has never been so strong. Youâre reassured to see it doesnât stop her from ordering him around as usual, or scolding him when he puts the chocolate sprinkles on top of the blue frosted cupcakes even though she told him at least a million times that the star-shaped sprinkles went on those.Â
âBut the star-shaped ones taste like nothing, honey,â he says. You shake your head even if he canât see you. Chaewon gasps like he just told her to go fuck herselfâand in her eyes, itâs probably as though he has.
As much as she hates arguments, this is something sheâd lay her life down for. She heads into the kitchen to give him a piece of her mind, leaving you to reflect over her words. It makes everything so much easier. You do wonder what that must feel like, to have someone to come home to after a long day instead of a silent glass of wine. At least the wine canât judge you.
The two glasses of Chaewonâs pink mixture must really be getting to your head, because when she sits back down next to you, face flushed from a heated conversation about sprinkles, you find yourself telling her whatâs on your mind. âIâve almost had that a couple times, you know. Someone to come home to,â you say, feeling her gaze on the side of your face as you keep yours on the garden in front of you. âI did tell you about some of the guys I dated.â
âYeah, and you always seemed super unfazed about the break-ups.â
âI was. I always expected it to end one day or another, so I wasnât so surprised when that day came.â Her hand on your forearm is warm, anchoring, silently telling you that itâs okay to go on. âItâs not that I donât want that life. But whenever they started talking about meeting their parents, or moving in together, let alone get married⊠It just freaked me out. The idea of someone being so close to me, eventually knowing so much about me. Howââ You interrupt yourself, taken aback by the tears you feel pooling in your eyes. You turn to look at Chaewon, and something in her expression, in the familiarity of her features, makes you take a deep breath and keep talking. This is Chaewon. She wonât make fun of you for crying. âHow do you do it, Chae? How do you trust someone to still love you when they know about all the worst sides of you?â
âOh, honey,â she whispers, standing up to wrap her arms around you. A few silent tears stream down your cheeks, hopefully not staining her dress, as you hug her back tightly. âWhat about me? Minji, Yunjin? What about Jaeyun?â
Her voice seems to soften on his name, or maybe itâs your heart that softens upon hearing it. A part of you thinks he may be at fault for your unsatisfactory love lifeâknowing heâs out there makes it harder to fall for someone else. But thatâs something you couldnât admit to Chaewonâyou can barely admit it to yourself as it is.
âIâm sorry,â you say, sniffling against her shoulder. âI shouldnât be doing this today, of all days.â
She shushes you. âNo, no, itâs okay. Iâm glad youâre letting it out. Listen.â She crouches in front of you, brushes away strands of your hair that got stuck in your wet eyelashes. âThereâs nothing monstrous about you that would drive anyone away. Youâre more cautious than most of us when it comes to relationships, and thatâs okay. It just means that when you finally do give your heart to someone, theyâll be all the more deserving of it. And I promise you that someone is out there.â She smiles, adding, âMaybe closer than you think.â
âWhatâwhatâs that supposed to mean?â
âCome on,â she says with a laugh, unfolding from her crouch and holding her hand out to you. âYour makeupâs all messed up. Iâll help you fix it before everyone else gets here.â
In her upstairs bathroom, she pushes off all the clothes laying haphazardly on an armchair and instructs you to sit there. With four cocktails between the two of you, everything becomes funnyâyouâre both laughing so hard at the shape of her mascara tube that it takes her five minutes to properly apply the makeup to your lashes. She keeps scolding you for scrunching your eyes in laughter and stopping her from doing her job, as if sheâs not the one who canât see through the tears in her eyes. âNow my mascaraâs running!â she complains when she sees her reflection in the mirror.
Like little girls playing around with their motherâs beauty products, she applies eyeshadows of all colors on your lids, tries out a different lipstick on each half of your lips to see which one fits you best. You look ridiculous, but youâd probably let her keep going for hours if it wasnât for the sudden ring of the doorbell. You both freeze mid-laughing fit as if the whole point of this evening wasnât for people to come over, the blush brush in Chaewonâs hand floating inches from your cheek.
âWho is it?â you whisper, unable to tell who it is from the voices mixing with Jaeminâs downstairs.
âSounds like Jeno and his new girlfriend,â she whispers back. âYou havenât met her. Sheâs way too cool for him.â
âAs are all of Jenoâs girlfriends.â
Chaewon nods. Before she can say anything else, Jaeminâs voice rings out in the house, calling out for her. âBe down in a minute!â she shouts back, then turns to you. Her energy seems to have shifted from when you were laughing around together when she says, âLetâs get this off you. I made you look a little crazy.â
As she douses a cotton pad with makeup remover, you ask her quietly, âAre you okay?â
With the cotton over your eyes, you canât see her expression, but youâve known her long enough to picture it. The tight lips, the slightly furrowed eyebrows. âIâm okay, just a little nervous,â she says. âItâs been a while since weâve had this many people over at once.â
Your surprise only lasts a secondâalthough Chaewon had appeared nothing but excited every time you talked about this weekend, you remember how sheâd grow anxious in the last moments before any party she threw. You take the cotton pad from her hands, holding onto her wrist as you look earnestly into her eyes. âItâs going to be an amazing evening, Chae. Youâre the best hostess in this town. The food looks great, as it always does, and everyoneâs going to be ecstatic to see each other again. And to congratulate you! Youâre getting married in two days!â
A small smile was forming on her lips as you spoke, but itâs the mention of her wedding that really seems to do the trick. âI am,â she says quietly, smiling down at her feet like a giddy schoolgirl.Â
âAnd your fiancĂ©âs waiting downstairs for you. Along with Jeno and his cool girlfriend.â
She sighs deeply. âYouâre right. Iâve been busy all day getting everything ready, and now that thereâs nothing left to do, Iâm panicking.â
âThereâs no reason to,â you tell her, squeezing her wrist warmly. âGo. Iâll take care of my makeup.â
With a quick hug, Chaewon thanks you and heads downstairs. In the mirror, it really does look like a small child had far too much fun on your face. Wiping it all off with her cleansing oil and digging through her pouch for liner and a lip tint, you remember all the evenings spent at your auntâs house, her combing through your closet before a party because your aunt let you buy little tops that her parents would have a seizure seeing her wear. For once, the roles are reversed.Â
Calming her down has had the same effect on your nerves, although the heavy doses of vodka and prosecco in the cocktails mightâve helped. Your heart is only slightly beating faster than usual as the doorbell rings again, the voices of more people filling Chaewonâs and Jaeminâs living room. For some reason, youâre worried that coming downstairs as theyâre all greeting each other will be more awkward than meeting them out in the backyard, so you wait until it sounds like theyâve left the room. But your plan isnât so successfulâyouâre halfway down the stairs when the door opens again, the person entering seemingly familiar enough to this house to come in without announcing their presence. Your body registers the sight of him first, heart dropping to your stomach, electricity reaching all the way to your fingertips before his name has even made its way to your brain.
âJaeyun,â you breathe out, the wind knocked out of you as though you didnât see him mere hours ago and as though you were unaware of his being here tonight. What is wrong with you? Are you sure Chaewon didnât lace your drinks with something else?
His smile has the power to reassure you and double your nerves all at once. He waits for you, watching as you make your way down the remaining stairs. âLong time no see,â he says when you reach him, an infuriatingly charming grin on his lips. You canât bite back the one growing on your own. âI hope you didnât miss me too much.â
âIt was a struggle, but I made it through.â
He chuckles, and a few seconds pass in which you donât quite look at each other; youâre about to offer to join the others in the yard, but he speaks first. âYou look beautiful.â Three simple words, but coming from Jaeyun, and spoken with that low, intimate tone, they pack a punch.
You hope you donât look too obviously flustered as you gaze down at yourself, picking up the hem of your dress and rubbing the fabric between your fingers self-consciously. âThanks, Yun,â you say, voice barely above a whisper. You give yourself a few seconds to assess him, and the conclusion you come to doesnât help your stateâyouâve seen him wear white button-ups dozens of times before, at school events and fancy gatherings, but you swear his arms didnât always fill out the sleeves so perfectly, straining ever so slightly against the fabric. And sure, not having it buttoned to the top is fine, but are three undone buttons really necessary? You stop yourself from making a comment about cleavage and return his compliment instead. Then, with a frown, you tell him the others are already outside and turn on your heels.
Behind you, you hear a chuckle, then the sound of his footsteps following you. You thought itâd be nice to have Jaeyun around, a familiar and reassuring presence to look for if you ever felt awkward or out-of-place tonight, but it turns out it might be more distressing than anything.
Outside, all the newcomers, save for Jenoâs girlfriend, greet you with wide, surprised smiles, like they canât believe you actually made it all the way here. Most of your old classmates have stayed in the areaâone has gone abroad, a few have moved to Daegu, the closest big city, but for the most part, they either still live here or in nearby, somewhat larger towns with more job opportunities. Thatâs why theyâve remained such a tight-knit circle, why everyone knows everyoneâs business, and why you were much more nervous than anyone should be at the idea of going to their high school reunion. Your distance is all the more obvious by their lack thereof.Â
No one is showing you open hostility like in the worst-case scenarios youâd dreamed up, so you must be doing a good job at smiling and catching up with them and being normal with your hands, although you gladly accept the champagne glass Jaeyun hands you, thankful for something to keep them busy. And you find that itâs nice to be here. Itâs nice to know Yurim and Jimin are as inseparable as ever and are planning to do the whole baby-at-the-same-time thing (once they manage to both find a boyfriend). Itâs nice to see Jeno start to look less like a nerd over time, but that he hasnât lost his ability to bag the most beautiful women youâve ever met, like Giselle, who he very proudly introduces you to, and who is indeed way cooler than him. She volunteers at the animal shelter in her free time and DJs for huge techno clubs in the city on the weekend, so to be fair, sheâs cooler than most people.
As more people start trickling in, instead of retreating into yourself, you relax. The weather is perfect, the sun making its slow, lazy descent into the night, a warm summer breeze coming through; people are happy to be here, to see each other, to see you; when Chaewon isnât frantically running around, making sure that everyone is doing okay and that there are enough mini-fours to go around, she actually looks like sheâs enjoying herself.
And thereâs Jaeyun. Itâs not that you mean to notice him, but your gaze keeps drifting to him of its own volition. He moves through the crowd with ease, clearly surrounded by people heâs comfortable with, always being pulled into conversations or making small talk with everyone he bumps into. His eyes seem to find yours often, and every time, he smiles at you like he knows something you donât. Instead of quickly turning away like he used to as a teenager, unashamed at getting caught, his eyes linger on your face before slowly returning to whoeverâs talking to him.
Thereâs a really annoying moment when heâs standing by the barbecue, keeping Jaemin company while he grills sausages and skewers, holding a bottle of beer in one hand, talking and laughing seemingly without a care in the world, as though he doesnât know, or care, how infuriatingly hot he is. Hair pushed back from his forehead, a slight blush on his cheeks from the heat of the grill, that stupid third button still popped open. He looks like he was taken straight from the front cover of a menâs magazine, and it shouldnât be this attractive, but it is, and thereâs nothing you can do about it but down the rest of your champagne glass.
Somethingâs different about him. Despite having seen him over the years, all this time, whenever youâve thought of Jaeyun, the person who came to mind was fifteen, sixteen, seventeen. A little shy, especially around girls, but with a smile that could charm a rock and that he hadnât yet discovered the power of. The pant legs of his school uniform were a little too long because he was sure heâd have one last growth spurt in your final year of school after seeing Heeseung go through one. He never did, then couldnât be bothered to exchange them or get them hemmed. They got soaking wet every time it rained. Of course some things have remained unchangedâheâs still as attentive as always, remembering small things about people, asking them about it, and listening with genuine interest when they answer. He doesnât try to make things about him, and he doesnât get annoyed when they ramble on for minutes on end without ever returning a question. Itâs hard to pinpoint exactly what it is that feels so new about him, so unfamiliar in this exciting, intriguing way.
After observing him through careful, discreet glances (which he seems to notice half of), you come to the conclusion that itâs in the way he carries himself. He stands straighter, walks with more confidence, and has figured out what to do with his arms. Heâs always been a human magnet: old ladies made conversation with him in grocery lines, strangers stopped him in the street for directions, he was elected class president every year without ever putting himself forward. You remember the pressure he used to feel because of it, like he couldnât bear to let anyone down although he was sure itâd inevitably happenâbut now, he seems completely at ease with all this attention on him. Not like heâs gloating, but like heâs in his element.
Eager to avoid his gaze and the dreadful feelings it causes in you, you move around the backyard as often as he does under the guise of catching up with as many as you can, always managing to be part of a different group than he is. And you drink. Everyone does, so youâre not embarrassing yourself on your ownâitâs a known fact that Chaewon can and will feed an army, so her guests bring tons of alcohol to make up for all her efforts. Your glass never goes empty for long simply because no one lets itâyou could refuse, but you donât.Â
You spend thirty minutes stuffing yourself with Chaewonâs cucumber salad and getting all the staff drama of your old school from Yunjin, who now works there as an English teacher. When sheâs done telling you about the affair between the vice-principal and your Year 11 Geography teacher, she takes you aback by asking, âSo, whatâs up between you and Jaeyun?â
Back in high school, people often mistook you for a couple or joked around about you liking each other, so you do as you did thenâyou laugh it off, saying thereâs nothing there. That doesnât seem to satisfy Yunjin, however. She tilts her head at you, asking, âAre you sure? He seems so⊠attentive to you. Just now at the buffet he stopped you from getting the potato salad because thereâs mustard in it. And in high school he was always running around doing things for you. All the girls were jealous of you.â
Your smile feels frozen, plastered on as you stare down at your plate. âThatâs just Jaeyun. Heâs nice to everyone, it doesnât mean anything.â
âY/N,â a voice says, but it definitely does not belong to Yunjin. Not only does it come from behind you, itâs also much too deep to be hers. When you lift your head, sheâs looking right over your shoulder, surprise written all over her features. You turn around to find Jaeyun standing there, handing you a hot dog. âDelivery,â he says, tone light, but his closed-off expression betrays him. You donât know how much of your conversation he heard, but he mustâve not liked it. Youâre not sure whyâitâs not like you lied. Jaeyun is nice to everyone.Â
You bite into the bread. It has all of your perfect toppings for a hot dogâketchup, fried onions, shredded cheddar and jalapeños. When Yunjin leans towards you, a hand on your arm as she says, âI donât think it doesnât mean anything,â you wonder if sheâs right.
A few drinks later, youâre stumbling inside the house, headed for the bathroom, when a hand wraps around your wrist. It belongs to none other than Jaeyun, whose expression is a mix of amusement and concern. Now that all the foodâs come out, the kitchen is dark, bathing in the fairy lightsâ glow from outside and from the few other lights in Chaewon and Jaeminâs garden. And itâs empty, save for the two of you. Itâs only the copious amounts of alcohol running in your blood that makes you think how enticing he looks in this semi-darkness, or that makes you imagine the affection you think you see in his eyes.
Of course youâd spend all evening avoiding him only to find yourself face-to-face alone with him suddenly like this. You look down at his fingers on you, and he lets go.
âHere.â With his other hand, he offers you a glass of water.
âIâm good,â you say, trying to sound casual, but you donât like the close attention heâs paying you. Or maybe youâre embarrassingly drunk and heâs sending you a message. In any case, itâs always been hard for you to accept Jaeyunâs small gesturesâyou always have to remind yourself heâs doing it out of the goodness of his heart and not because he especially cares about you.Â
âY/N.â The way he says your name makes lightning zip down your spine. His voice is stern, but thereâs a certain warmth to it. Like youâre being unreasonable, but cutely so.Â
You take the water from his hands and down it in one go. âHappy?â
âVery,â he says, a smirk on his lips that you frown at as he takes the cup back and places it in the sink. He rests his hands behind him on the counter, eyes searching your face, and you, for some reason, stand there and let him instead of going to the bathroom like youâd originally set out to do. Even as silence stretches out between you, your feet are frozen, and youâre finally courageous enough to meet his gaze without backing down. Even as his eyes scan your face, settling on your lips, and your heart threatens to give out. Even as he takes a step towards you and your chest starts visibly heaving up-and-down with every breath you take.
When heâs standing in front of you, he finally speaks, his voice unlike youâve ever heard it beforeâlow, vulnerable, and with a hint of ruggedness that makes your head spin. âHave you been avoiding me?â
âNoââ
âDonât lie to me, Y/N, please.â He sounds like heâs seconds away from pleading with you. Heâs never been one to hide when heâs hurt, so youâve heard him many times like this, but never when you were the cause of his upset. It was always because of a bad grade, a fight with his parents, a joke he took the wrong way. You wouldnât know if you ever hurt him before, because heâs never come to you about it. It feels weird knowing youâre capable of such a thing.
âIâm nâOkay, yes, Iâm avoiding you a little bit,â you say in a small voice. Whether itâs the look on Jaeyunâs face or the last cocktail you had, but you canât bring yourself to pretend.Â
But you belatedly realize that of course, answering this question will only bring about another, much harder to answer: âWhy?â
So you make up another lie thatâs about as believable as the first one. âIâI donât know, Yunnie. Iâm just trying to speak to as many people as I can.â
âBut not me?â
Is he drunk? He always got whinier after drinking. That must be it. Although his voice isnât whiny at allâheâs not complaining, he rather sounds like he has answers he wants from you and is set on getting them. But itâs the only explanation you can come up with.
Youâre unable to keep his gaze anymore. Looking down at the floor, you say, âWe spoke earlier. Weâre speaking now.â
âYeah, and I practically had to corner you for it.â The vulnerability has left his voice and he sounds⊠frustrated?Â
He crosses his arms over his chest, and despite yourself, your eyes follow the movement. Heâs rolled up his sleeves, letting out his forearms on full display for you. Thatâs an image you immediately need out of your head, so you make the mistake of looking up at his face again, only to be met with his jaw locked tight, his eyebrows slightly furrowed, and the intensity of his eyes staring right into yours.
Heâs allowed to be mad, but does he have to look so good doing it?
As if he wasnât close enough already, he takes another step towards you. It forces you to look up at him, and the sight of his face so near yours is devastating. You can already tell itâll haunt you for nights to come.
âDo I make you nervous, Y/N? Is that why you donât want to be around me?â
You inhale sharply, audibly, and the sound seems to amuse Jaeyun. The way he smirks down at you should be condescending, but he manages to make it impossibly attractive. Like he has you exactly where he wants youâwhich doesnât make any sense. You donât understand why heâs doing this, why itâd upset him that youâd rather talk to other people than to him, how heâs figured out the reason youâre avoiding him is the butterflies gnawing at your stomach every time your gazes intertwine. Heâs never done any of this before.
âNo,â you find yourself saying, but itâs an obvious lie to both of you. Youâre breathless uttering that one word, fingers shaking from the tension in your body and Jaeyunâs proximity.
Then he sighs, and the Jaeyun you know is returned to you. A little tired by your antics, maybe, but more worried than anything. âIâll take you home when youâre ready to go.â
âButââ
âNo buts. Just come get me when you want to leave.â And with that, he turns and heads back outside, leaving you to wonder what that was all about as you wobble your way to the bathroom.
When you come back out, you make a point of sitting in the empty lawn chair next to Jaeyun and joining the conversation heâs in. He smiles at you and you glare at him, feeling like a scolded child.
Maybe alcohol makes you a little immature.
Youâre having a grand old time listening to Jenoâs and Giselleâs travel stories, but as people slowly start making their way home, aware of the weekend full of festivities theyâve got ahead of them, dread sinks in. When the partyâs over, youâll be left alone with Jaeyun. Thankfully, thereâs enough alcohol left to throw another party, and you serve yourself a couple of very generous cranberry-vodkas to prepare yourself for later. Maybe if youâre passed out in Jaeyunâs car you wonât have to talk to him.
When the gardenâs really starting to empty out, you find a small moment during which Jaeyun is busy chatting with Jaemin and some other guys, and stealthily approach Chaewon to tell her youâll be on your way now.Â
âArenât you leaving with Jaeââ
You interrupt her with a hand to her mouth. Even though heâs across the yard from you, you donât want to risk it. âIâll see you tomorrow,â you whisper, then tip-toe your way around the backyard to the front of the house, where your bike waits for you. Somewhere deep in the back of your head, part of you has remained sober enough to tell you how bad an idea it is to bike home after drinking so much. You wouldnât run into many cars at this time of night, but itâll be dark, and the ditches are deep here.Â
But you couldnât have predicted for your best friend to betray you. Just as youâre succeeding on your third try to swing your leg over your bike, you hear her voice, clear as day, shouting, âJaeyun! Y/Nâs leaving without you!â
You swear he teleports over to you. You freeze, hoping that moving as little as you can will turn you invisible.
It doesnât work.
âWhat are you doing?â Jaeyun asks as he makes his way over to you. Youâre relieved when he doesnât sound annoyed, just concerned. He stands in front of you, two hands on your bike handle right next to yours. âI told you to come get me when you were ready. You canât go home on your own like this.â
âSure I can.â You try to hoist yourself up onto your seat, and immediately lose balance, stumbling to the side. Thankfully, Jaeyunâs hand finds your waist before you can fallâit steadies your body but not your heart.Â
âCome on, Y/N. Letâs get you to bed.â
Does he hear himself? Heâs just being a good friend, so why does he have to phrase things in such an intimate way, and make your heart go all pitter-patter like the sixteen-year-old you once were? Why does he have to speak to you in that low, affectionate tone of his, like youâre someone he canât help but take care of?Â
You take a deep breath, resigning yourself to your fate. âOkay.â
He helps you off of your bike and into his car. His hold on you is gentle but firm, and you try your very hardest not to think about whether this is how he would hold you in other situations. Before he can even turn on the ignition, you close your eyes and pretend to sleep. You hear him chuckle, then back out of Chaewonâs and Jaeminâs driveway. Once or twice, you hear him inhale as though heâs going to speak, but he seems to decide against it. A ten-minute bike ride makes for a very short car ride, and before you know it, heâs already pulling up in front of your auntâs house. You keep your pretense up as he walks around the car and opens your door, and youâre sure you make a very convincing show of waking up and being sleepy.
As he takes your hand to help you out of the car, you ignore your instincts yelling at you to jump away from him. You tell yourself itâs only so you don't get caught in your lie that you let him slip an arm over his shoulders and guide you to your front door. It has nothing to do with the fact that your skin tingles everywhere it touches his, or that it feels terribly nice to be handled with so much care and patience. The front door is unlocked, and he holds you steady as you slip out of your shoes. Only when he closes the door behind you do you snap out of it.
âThank you, Yun. Iâll be alright from here.â
He narrows his eyes at you. âIâm not sure you will. I donât trust you not to trip up the stairs.â
You panic as he leads you further inside the house. âButâWhat if my aunt sees us?â
He stops in his tracks, then turns his head to look down at you with something you think is mischief in his eyes. âWhy? What about it?â
âShe might misunderstand!â you whisper-yell.
âWhatâs there to misunderstand, Y/N? Iâve taken you home drunk a dozen times before. Besides, Iâm just Jaeyun, right? This doesnât mean anything.â Youâre left speechless. So he did hear you earlier, and although he kept his tone light-hearted, something makes you think he isnât entirely unoffended. You stare at him, sure the guilt on your face is obvious. Eventually, he sighs, starts walking again. âIâm just teasing you.â
Despite yourself, you are glad heâs there to help you up to your bedroomâthe stairs are remarkably wobbly tonight. Even though he tries to sit you down gently onto your bed, you let yourself flop on the mattress, already half-asleep the moment your back hits it. Youâre uncharacteristically pliant as he guides you into a more comfortable position, lifting your head to rest on your pillows, pulling your duvet over you. You somehow feel more drunk now than you were leaving the party, as though Jaeyunâs touch and proximity are stronger than any alcohol. Maybe thatâs why you suddenly find this situation hilarious. Your first chuckle makes Jaeyunâs hand freeze on your blanket; then, when giggles start pouring uncontrollably out of you, he asks you whatâs so funny, and has to shush you, saying youâll wake your aunt up. But you can tell heâs amused, and it only makes you laugh more.Â
âSeriously, whatâs gotten into you?â he asks, sitting next to you. For some reason, the dip of his weight on the mattress feels reassuring.
âThis is just nice,â you mutter, eyes still closed. âIt feels nice.â
Heâs silent for a few seconds. âWhat is?â he whispers.
âThis. You being here.â
He releases a shaky breath. âIt could happen more often, if you let me. It could happen every night.â
You giggle, because you know heâs just joking around. But you let him, even if it hurts a little bit, and you play along. âYeah, thatâd be nice. I think Iâd sleep a lot better.â
With a delicate finger, he brushes strands of hair away from your eyes. You hum, smiling contentedly at his touch. This is such a nice dream that you hope you wonât have to wake up too soon from. âI think I would, too,â he whispers, voice shaky like he isnât at all happy like you are, which confuses you. âI donât know what to do, Y/N. I want so badly to take care of you, but you wonât let me. I donât know how else to show you how good I could be to you.â
âYouâre taking care of me now.â
âYeah, and youâre so drunk you probably wonât remember this tomorrow.â
He sniffles, and you suddenly get the sensation that this isnât a dream at all. You keep your eyes closed anyway, frowning as you turn your head to the side, tears starting to form behind your eyelids.
âBe back in a minute,â he whispers.
You open your eyes to find him gone. You try to make sense of what just happened, but your thoughts are muddled and hazy, and more questions than answers appear. You donât come to any satisfying conclusions, at least none that arenât clearly fueled by your delusions concerning Jaeyun.Â
When he comes back, heâs holding a tall glass of water. He seems briefly surprised to see you awake. He puts the glass gently down onto your bedside table, then kneels by your bed, grabbing your hand that youâd slipped above the comforter. He looks into your eyes with an intensity youâre unfamiliar with coming from him, and that makes your stomach twist. âListen, Y/N. Youâre only here for a few days, so Iâll be very clear about this. And if youâve forgotten by tomorrow, Iâll make sure to remind you.â He pauses here, takes a deep breath. Thereâs a furrow in his eyebrows as he speaks. He looks desperate, but for what, you couldnât tell. âIâm not letting you go this time. I feel like I keep losing you, over and over again, just when I think I finally have you. Iâm not letting that happen again. I donât want to be apart from you anymore.â
Your mind is reeling. You feel dizzy. You close your eyes, but it doesnât help. Jaeyunâs words are loud and nonsensical in your head. âDo you mean⊠as friends?â you ask, because the other option seems so impossible, even in your inebriated state, you can hardly seriously entertain it.
He sighs, and it sounds like disappointment. âIf thatâs what you want, then Iâll give up on trying to be more. But if it isnât what you want, then no.â
Your eyes fly open. Does that meanâŠ
âIâm in love with you, Y/N. Iâve always been, and I canât take hiding it anymore. Iâll take rejection over another day of pretending all I want to be is your friend. I want to talk to you everyday. I want to see you more often. I canât keep going like this, calling you once every few months and acting like Iâm fine with it.â
Youâre stunned into silence. Even your thoughts are frozen, your mind completely blank. How do you react to words youâve wanted to hear your whole life, and have convinced yourself you never would, not in a million years?
âIââ
âYou donât have to say anything now,â he interrupts, and youâre relieved. âWhatever it is, Iâd rather hear it when youâre sober. Iâm sorry for springing this up on you, I just⊠I think I wouldâve flaked out if I hadnât done it right now.â
He gazes down at you with a fondness youâve only seen in your dreams, and strokes your hair. âIâll let you sleep now. Iâll see you tomorrow, okay?â
âOkay,â you say, surprised you're able to speak.Â
âOkay.â
He seems to hesitate for a second, but whatever it is, he decides against it. He gets up, and with one final glance back at you, closes your bedroom door gently. You listen for his footsteps down the stairs, the sound of the front door, and of his car driving away, and find yourself wishing heâd stayed, wishing for proof that you didnât dream up everything he just said.Â
.
.
Iâm in love with you, Y/N.
You wake with a start. Jaeyunâs voice was so loud in your head, you thought he was standing right over youâbut itâs only your imagination playing tricks on you, you realize with some disappointment.Â
Some moments from last night are blurry or simply inexistent in your mind. Yurim sent selfies a bunch of you took to the group chat, of which you have no recollection being a part of. You have no idea how the marker doodles appeared on your arm, nor who is the artist behind them. But Jaeyunâs words you remember with dizzying, intimidating clarity, the words he spoke to you in the near-complete darkness of this room, and that you donât think you could ever forget, no matter your state.
Part of you has always longed to hear those words, but another part has always dreaded they would be heard one day. You donât know which part is stronger right now. Replaying his voice in your mind, your heart flutters at the same time as your stomach sinks. Theyâre words that have the power to change everything, that perhaps already have, and thatâs what terrifies you.
Itâs already ten in the morning. You wish you could stay here all day, safe under the covers, rehashing those words until they lose all meaning, but you know thatâs impossible. Not only do you have a pounding headache and a mouth drier than the desert to tend to, more importantly, you have a responsibility to be there for Chaewon and the things sheâs planned for today. So you force yourself out of bed and begrudgingly make your way downstairs.Â
Your aunt has already left for work. Breakfast is ready on the dining table, along with a tall glass of water, ibuprofen, and a note that reads: I didnât hear you come home last night, so I assume you had a good time. Take this and eat your weight in bread. Thereâs coffee left in the Keurig. Bless her. You know better than to eat too much, thoughâif thereâs one thing Chaewon takes seriously, itâs brunch, so you know youâll have plenty of food to cure your hangover in just a bit.Â
As hard as you try to divert your thoughts towards anything else, itâs impossible not to think of what Jaeyun said last night. Itâs all your mind circles back to, like a vulture thatâs found its prey and wonât let go. Despite that, the shock has yet to wear off, and you stare into your cup of coffee, searching in vain for answers there.
It took you a while to fall for Jaeyun, then it took you even longer to admit those feelings to yourself. At fourteen years old, stepping foot in Gimcheon for the first time, you wanted nothing to do with the people here. Not with your aunt, not with your classmates. You wanted to wallow in your grief, for the bitterness of the injustice thatâd taken your parents away from you to fully take over you.Â
Jaeyun was one of the people who didnât let that happen. Some of the kids in your class found you odd or standoffish, often whispering behind your back about your sudden arrival in town, but he and Chaewon never failed to try and talk to you despite your extremely low-effort replies, to invite you out for snacks or basketball after class, to send you the lessons you missed on days your body felt too heavy to get out of bed.Â
Nothing in particular happened for you to suddenly change your mind about them. Maybe it was because you thought theyâd stop pestering you if you just said yes, or because you sometimes felt the sharp loss of your friends in Seoul, whose calls youâd all ignored since moving. You surprised your new classmates as much as yourself when they asked you if you wanted to go eat tteokbokki with them, and you casually said, âSure, why not,â as if your acceptance was a daily occurrence.Â
The rest was history. Although it took some more time before you really opened up to them, they accepted you the way you were, sharp edges and all. With them, part of the person you were before could resurface, carefree, happy. You still went home to a mostly silent, grief-stricken relative, who was practically a stranger to you, but at least you could look forward to seeing your friendsâand something as simple as that made life easier every day.
As soon as you thought they started to appear, you tried to squash your feelings for Jaeyun, to no avail. Just when you told yourself you could never be more than friends, heâd bring you strawberry milk from the convenience store he walks by on his way to school. After spending an evening making a list of all the reasons itâd be a bad idea for you to date (itâd be awkward with your friends, you and your sadness would be a burden to him, it was too scary to get close to someone when they could leave you at any time), youâd wake up the next morning with a text that said, Good morning!!!! Did you know that if the Sun stopped shining, itâd take 8.5 minutes for us to realize it??!Â
But I know right away when youâre not shining
:)
Momâs making your favorite shrimp jeon tonight so you HAVE to come over
And even your strongest will wasnât enough against the force of his kindness. You were forced to submit to it, and to suffer for it for years to comeâwhen other girls offered him chocolate on Valentineâs Day. When Bae Sumin asked him to the dance, and you had to ignore his concerned expression as he repeatedly asked you if it was really okay that he went, and all you could do was smile and convince him that it was. When you left for university and you had to stop yourself from asking why it seemed to be making him so sad, so uncharacteristically upset with you, almost like he wanted to punish you for leaving him. When every time you came back after that, it became harder and harder to say goodbye to him again.
You got mad at him sometimes. If something unexpected reminded you of your parents, like your momâs favorite dish being served at the cafeteria, or someone using an expression your dad often said, youâd become irritable, and would be unable or unwilling to explain why. He was so patient with you then, even more attentive to your mood than usual, but the feeling of being treated kindly, like he needed to walk on eggshells around you, incomprehensibly made you even more abrasive. Youâd blow up at him: I donât need your help, I donât need your pity, get off my back, what are you even being so nice for anyways?
And his reply would only drive you further insane: Because I care about you.
Youâd always wish heâd say anything else, something less vague like Because itâs the right thing to do, or Because thatâs who I am, or even Because youâre my friend, but no, heâd say, âBecause I care about you,â and it was worse than anything he could ever say.
Because of course, friends care about each other. Of course they help each other out and do kind things for one another. But you so desperately wished Jaeyun could care for you in another way. And that was the problem: you couldnât stop yourself reading into his actions, devoid of the meaning you wanted them to have.
And there was always that lingering thought: Iâm leaving anyway. You were a city girl at heart. You missed the beauty stores that occupied five floors, the animal cafĂ©s you and your friends had spent way too much of your allowance at, the billboards of your favorite celebrities in the subway, the libraries with their wide range of manhwas for you to choose from. As much as youâd come to love your life in Gimcheon, you knew you couldnât stay. You knew you couldnât live on a nearby campus during the week and come back on the weekends like most of your friends would be doing.Â
At eighteen years old, you wanted a clean break. You wanted to attend a prestigious university, to dress up for class, to have study dates at a cozy cafĂ©, to go out to a club on the weekend and not worry about how youâd get home because the buses stopped running way before midnight. Youâd daydream about the cool job youâd have, the cool clothes youâd wear, the cool people youâd meet. Then youâd go downstairs and see your aunt, and sheâd ask if you were okay with frozen dumplings for a third night in a row. Or youâd arrive at school and see Chaewon and Yunjin shrieking over Got7âs new song. Or youâd get a text from Jaeyun, saying, Cats use physics to land on their feet. Theyâre not aware of it though. And suddenly, the idea of a clean break became much, much harder.
Once you left, your reasons for not confessing to Jaeyun didnât changeâif anything, they strengthened. Growing up didnât make you any less scared of opening up to someone, of letting them see the vulnerable sides of you, and hoping theyâd still love you. Even if you had a positive example in Chaewon and Jaeyun, youâd never experienced it with a romantic partner, and not only did your incessant but unconscious comparing of them to Jaeyun stop you from completely falling in love with the few boyfriends youâve had over the years, your inability to fully bare yourself emotionally to them inevitably caught up to you. Theyâd point it out, trying to coax your story and emotions out of you with kind words, gentle touchesâbut you never wanted it enough to make the extra effort. Theyâd take your independence as a personal affront, like it was a fault on their part that you were allergic to relying on others. Theyâd get frustrated. Some of them would yell at you while you stared off into the distance, numb, wondering if youâd always be like this. Theyâd break up with you, and youâd move on like nothing happened.
The fear of loss still froze your heart into place. Even in the throes of puberty, your mother and father were your two favorite people on Earth. At thirteen, you thought theyâd live forever. You were reasonable enough to know not everyone you loved would dieâalthough the thought of going through that grief again did keep you up at night. A bad break-up was enough to terrify you. And what would you do when you finally handed your heart to someone, only for them to turn around and decide they donât want it after all?
A handful of times, you tried to sit yourself down and imagine, as objectively as you could, what might happen if you confessed your feelings to Jaeyun. You tried, but you never could. It was too scary, with him. As your friend, he was the glue that held you together. If you took that one step closer, youâd be too far goneâand once that happened, who was to say, when it inevitably ended, if youâd ever be able to tape yourself back together.
Youâve had many self-indulgent thoughts over the years, many delusions youâve had to compel yourself away from when he looked at you a little long, grew a little too quiet when you talked about another boy, came up with increasingly ridiculous excuses to walk you home even though it was out of his way. Youâve worked so hard to bury them deep, and here he comes, so late on a Thursday night that it became a Friday morning, telling you it was neither self-indulgence nor delusion.Â
Itâs too much to process with a hangover.Â
Your shower doesnât have the relaxing effect you hoped it would have on your nerves. Even when you turn the temperature as low as you can take it, your skin burns hot at the thought of seeing Jaeyun again, of him repeating himself in broad daylight. By the time youâve dressed and gotten ready, your heart is still racing wild, and youâre no closer to figuring out what the correct attitude around him or right thing to say is.
Youâre tying your shoelaces when the doorbell rings. Of course, itâs Jaeyun standing behind the door, asking you if youâre ready to go to Chaewonâs.Â
You just gape at him. Youâd prepared yourself mentally to see him a little later, with other people aroundâyou hadnât expected this and your brain simply malfunctions as a result.
He chuckles. âI wasnât going to let you walk all the way there. You left your bike, remember?â
From his softened tone and the way he gulps as he awaits your answer, you can tell heâs not just asking whether you remember the drive home. He looks at you, a little expectant, a little scared, and his demeanor relaxes you. Heâs not acting like nothing happened last night, and he doesnât seem overly confident afterâwell, after confessing his love for you. Thatâs what it was, wasnât it? No matter how hard a time you have believing it. It relaxes you because it feels like youâre not worrying alone about this shift in your friendship, about this rearranging of things and feelings. With just one look, he tells you heâs right there with you.
And thatâs all you need.
âRight. Thanks, Yun.â
He stands there for a little, expression morphing into something giddier, more hopeful, and you wonder how long heâd stay there looking at you if you didnât clear your throat and say, âShould we⊠go?â
âYes! Yes, of course, letâs go,â he says, laughing awkwardly, rubbing the back of his head as he turns away and heads towards his car.
Surely, he canât always have been this obvious. Surely, if heâs been in love with you for as long as he says he has, then he learned just as well as you did to school his feelings and make them as discreet as he could. Because if he was acting this way all along, all boyish grins and non-stop glances your way, then you wouldâve had to be the densest person on Earth not to notice.
And it hurts your pride a little to think you mightâve actually been this dense.
After a minute on the road, he asks, âHow are you feeling? Not too hungover?â
âA little. But Iâll feel a lot better after having some of Chaeâs pancakes.â
âYeah. And the pressed orange juice as well. With theââ
ââOranges from her grandparentsâ garden?â you say at the same time, and laugh.
âYeah. Itâs the best,â he says.
âWhat about you?â you ask. âYou didnât drink that much last night, right?â
âYep. Just a beer at the start of the evening, and thatâs it.â Then, he smiles, a little smug, and adds: âWhy? Were you watching?â
You scoff, crossing your arms over your chest as though he was making a ridiculous assumption, when you very well knew you were constantly aware of his whereabouts last night. Of course you noticed him sipping on either water or Pepsi the entire evening. âI was not. But you were able to drive, so I assumed.â
âRight.â That smug smile of his is still fixed on his lips, so you know you sounded just as unconvincing as you felt. âWell, I was watching. And I can tell you you drank something like seven different sorts of alcohol last night.â
For your own sanity, you ignore the first part, and focus on the second. You groan, hiding your face in your hands. âThatâs why my headacheâs so bad.â
Jaeyun reacts immediately. His head turns back-and-forth between you and the road ahead as he says, âIs it? Did you drink enough water? There should be some painkillers in the glove compartment, if youââ
âItâs okay, Yun,â you interrupt, laughing softly. âI took some ibuprofen already. Iâll feel better after eating.â
He seems skeptical. âOkay. But let me know if you need anything, yeah?â
âI will.â
As you feel the tingle of incoming tears in your eyes, you turn your head away from him. Looking out the passenger window, you think how stark the difference is between being on the receiving end of Jaeyunâs attentiveness when you were just friends, and now that you know the way he really sees you. The crushing weight of your repressed emotions is, at last, gone, and youâre only left with a light-heartedness you havenât felt in years.
Is there really a universe where every day is like this? It feels too good to be true.Â
But when Jaeyun reaches out, the palm of his hand facing up as it floats above your thigh, his expression bashful, you think â you dare to hope â you might soon be living in that universe. You take his hand, and the rest of the car ride is silent, like this one simple touch is all the words you need.
Youâre glad you remember what he told you last night. Hearing it again now, in broad daylight, with no alcohol in your system to be blamed for your reactions, would be too much to bear. The mere thought of it has your heart racing, more than it already is from the warmth of Jaeyunâs hand in yours. You look down at it, the way it sits so prettily in your lap, the way his fingers intertwine with yours like itâs what they were meant to do. You crave to touch his hand more, to turn it around and analyze the lines of his palm, to feel the ridges of his knuckles, the smoothness of his nails under your fingers, but you stop yourself. Itâs an art piece in a museum that you content yourself with watching from afar, awed.
Too soon, you arrive at Chaewonâs house. The loss of Jaeyunâs touch is almost alarmingâwhat if he changes his mind and this was the only time youâd get to do this?
But as though he can read your thoughts, he guides you with a hand to your lower back towards Chaewonâs and Jaeminâs front doorâand he pauses before it, gazing down at you with a smile you want to interpret as reassuring.Â
Iâm not letting you go this time. Iâm not letting that happen.
Maybe youâre overly self-conscious, but you swear a few of your old classmates exchange knowing looks when you and Jaeyun arrive together. Chaewon is the least discreet about it, stopping in her tracks when she sees the two of you, a steaming plate of pancakes in her hands, her smile wide as she gets Jaeminâs attention and nods her head in your direction. You want to escape to the kitchen under the pretense of offering your help, but Jaeyun is already pulling out a chair for you and taking a seat in the one next to it.Â
Thankfully, almost everyone is in a state similar to yours, too hungover and tired to really pay either of you too much attention. Their minds are on the food in their plates and the coffee in their mugsâthe atmosphere is relaxed, everyone making quiet conversation with their neighbors. With Chaewon on your right and Jaeyun on your left, youâre free to scarf down hash browns and scrambled eggs without having to entertain anyone. He seems to be pretty engrossed in his chat about soccer with Jeno, and yet, he knows every time you need something, standing up and reaching for the bacon or the orange juice before youâve even said anything. He holds the plate while you serve yourself, then places it back to its original spot, shooting you a smile that never fails to make your stomach twist before returning his attention to Jeno.
Chaewon had kept this afternoonâs activities a secret, only telling you all to have your school uniform ready. Some came to brunch already wearing it, but you and a few other girls go up to Chaewonâs room to change. It feels like being back in a locker room again, a bit awkward, a bit fun, teasing Yunjin for her matching black lace set on this seemingly innocuous day, comparing the stretch marks youâve obtained in the years since you last wore your uniforms.
Itâs definitely odd, seeing yourself in the mirror in that familiar short-sleeved white shirt and knee-length marine skirt. Despite how badly you wanted to grow out of Gimcheon, some things have remained the sameâthat much, youâre forced to admit to yourself when you head back to the living room and see Jaeyun in his old school uniform, a blast from the past. He watches you come down the stairs with a smile, and you wonder if heâs thinking the same things you areâthat youâve never stopped feeling like a teenager around him, and that no matter where you were in life, seeing him was enough to make your dull heart race.
His uniform still fits him okay, although itâs impossible not to notice how his arms and thighs strain against the fabric now, sleeves not quite reaching his wrists. Try hard as you might, your eyes drift to the way his button-up clings to his chest, and itâs clear he isnât oblivious to it. You swallow as you walk towards him, hands coming up to fix his tie like itâs second nature. âSeriously, Yun,â you mutter. âIt was cute when you were seventeen, but at twenty-eight, really?â
He only smirks down at you, making you more flustered than you already wereâand it doesnât help when everyone in the room oohâs at your gesture. You take a step back, but the damage has been done. Itâs like youâre in high school again, rolling your eyes at your friends when they ask if you and Jaeyun are finally dating, pretending like the mere thought doesnât have butterflies erupting in your stomach.Â
âI remember how Y/N used to fix his tie in front of the school gates every morning,â Chaewon says loudly, and you glare at her. âShe said she didnât want him to get scolded by teachers.â Everyone erupts in a chorus of so cute and I canât believe theyâre still not together and Iâm sure they used to have a crush on each other. She looks happy with herself, blissfully unaware of the chaos sheâs created for youâitâs been hard enough acting normally around Jaeyun this morning, you donât need the added spotlight.
He doesnât seem to share that sentiment, though. When he speaks, his voice cuts through the chatter. âMy dad taught me how to tie a tie before middle school. But I was running late once and she fixed it for me. I always messed it up on purpose after that.â He turns to you. Your jaw is slack, your heart a wild, frantic mess. âGuess that trick still works.â
This really is high school all over again. Your classmates act like theyâve witnessed the revelation of the century, cheering and clapping, the boys clasping Jaeyunâs shoulder like he just scored the winning goal. Chaewon squeals. Yunjin pretends to faint. Youâre rooted to your spot, too bewildered to react.
âSo you really did like her back then, didnât you?â Jeno asks, and everyone stops talking, awaiting Jaeyunâs answer with what seems like bated breathâyou included, as though he didnât tell you all about it last night.
He shrugs, but his grin, sheepish and bright at once, says it all. âIâll let you guys come to your own conclusions.â When he turns to look at you, despite the fact that you want to strangle him for putting you on the spot like this, you canât deny that his confession is a little bit â just a little bit â adorable. You think of fifteen-year-old Jaeyun looking at himself in the mirror, proud of himself for putting on his tie wrong, and you canât help but smile. Of course, this only makes your friends crazier, but Jaeyun, as if heâs suddenly decided this was enough attention, says, âIs everyone ready? Letâs head out now.â
Chaewon instructs you all to meet in your high school parking lot. On the drive over, Jaeyun apologizes, asking if what he did was too much.
âItâs okay,â you tell him. âEven if I was a little embarrassed.â
âI wasnât planning on doing anything like it, but seeing you in your uniform brought back memories, I guess,â he says, bashful. âI did say I would remind you of what I told you last night, didnât I?â
You shrug, smile down at your hands. âYou did. But itâs not like Iâd forgotten.â
He doesnât answer right awayâbut then, he suddenly looks over at you, and says, âYouâre really pretty.â
Your stomach flips. You look down at yourself to avoid his gaze as heat creeps up your face. âWhat are you sayingâŠâ you mutter.
âI never told you properly when we were in high school. So Iâm telling you now. I always thought you were the prettiest, Y/N.â
You fight it hard, but you canât bite back your smile. All you can do is hide your grin behind your fist, resting your elbow on the sill of the open window as you turn away from him. For only a brief second, as if spurred on by the confidence his compliment gave you, you change your mindâyou turn to him and abruptly say, âAnd I always thought you were the most handsome.â Then you whip back to the window and grin at the trees lining the road. But you feel his eyes on you, and when you look back at him, heâs staring at you, mouth agape. âYun! Look at the road!â you chide, laughing.
âSorry, sorry!â he exclaims, taking his eyes off you. âButâYouâSeriously?â
You canât believe it, how incredulous he sounds, how he seems as surprised as you felt last night. As you still feel now. âOf course,â you say quietly, feeling shy again.Â
Heâs quiet for a few seconds. Then, âSeriously?!â he repeats, louder, almost yelling.
âRelax,â you say, laughing at his enthusiasm. âItâs not like I was the only one. Half the girls in our class had a crush on you.â
âDid they?â he asks, a shit-eating grin on his lips. You roll your eyes.
âYou only received love letters, like, once a month.â
âBut never from the person I wanted to receive one from.â
You hold his gaze for a second. Then another, and anotherâbut you canât handle more than that. The way he looks at you, you feel too seen. Like he can read your every thought, like he can see your heart beating through your chest, your breath making its shaky way up your throat. It makes you too vulnerable, makes your desire to soak in his affection, to let him keep talking to you like this, too strong. Itâs a feeling too unfamiliar for you to accept yet.
You return to your spot, turned away from him, elbow on the windowsill. âWhatever,â you mumble.
But it seems like you admitting to having found him handsome when you were teenagers is all the confirmation he needs. Throughout the rest of the afternoon, he sticks close to your side. Since school is out for the summer, Chaewon asked Yunjin to convince her higher-ups to let your group have a ten-year high school reunion there. They agreed and got one of the janitors to act as your supervisor, as if you would damage or steal school property. In any case, he follows you around quietly while you and your classmates roam the old, familiar walls, reminiscing about all the stupid things you did, the gossip that felt like the most important thing in your lives at the time, the teachers you hated, the upperclassmen you crushed on. Mostly, you take loads and loads of pictures, reenacting memories, huddling together in front of the classroom door of your final year. Jaeyun always finds himself right behind you in the group pictures, his taller frame so close to yours you can feel his warmth.
He rests his hand on your shoulder for one of the photos, and your brain short-circuits at a touch that you wouldnât have thought about twice as a teenager. Sure, back then, Jaeyunâs touch made you feel giddy, but it was also the most natural thing in the world. Linking arms on the way home from school. Your head on his shoulder during a long bus ride. His fingers in your hair when you let him play around with it. He always said it was practice for his future daughter: âI want her to have the prettiest hairstyles in all of her school,â heâd say, as if she was already here. And youâd think to yourself, Heâll make such a great dad. And although he was someone you could tell anything to, for reasons you didnât like to think too much about at that time, this was something you kept to yourself. Now, you can hardly breathe from a hand on your shoulder. But now, you can also finally admit to yourself why that is.
And with every passing moment, every smile shared, every delicate touch of his hand to your arm, of your fingers brushing against each other, you think that maybe, just maybe, you might finally be able to admit to him why that is.
A while later, when everyone parts ways, heading home to get a few hours of rest before the big day tomorrow, Jaeyun asks you if you can hang back for a bit. Heâs so cute about it, so much like a schoolboy asking his crush out, that you canât turn him down despite the sleep you desperately need.
The soccer field by your school is surprisingly unoccupiedâeven at this time of year, when the school hallways are empty, there are usually teenagers playing here. You yourself used to spend entire afternoons here, chatting with Chaewon while the boys played soccer under the blazing sun. You remember pretending you werenât engrossed in the sweat beading on Jakeâs forehead or the way his cheeks turned crimson with the effort, and cheering for him whenever he scored a goal and turned towards you, yelling out âDid you see that?!â with that puppyish grin on his lips.
You remember the nights you spent here as well, the last summer before you left, when you and your friends wanted to drink without the adults seeing. Youâd lay side-by-side, looking up at the stars as you shared your dreams and fears for the future. If Jaeyunâs hand brushed against yours, youâd wait a few seconds, then move your hand to rest on your chest instead. You always wondered if he noticed it, the small touch, its removal. You know your hand burned with both.Â
He leads you to the soccer field now, his hand warm and gentle in yours, like heâs scared holding on too tight will scare you off. Heâs silent for a while, quietly bringing you down with him until youâre laying on the grass togetherâthis time, you keep his hand preciously in yours, even as your palms turn clammy, even as the memories of being here like this flood in.
The summer breeze has nearly lulled you to sleep when he speaks, his voice soft, careful not to startle you. âI hated the last day of school.â
You turn your head to look at him, but he keeps his eyes trained on the blue sky above. âOf course you did. You were such a nerd, you wouldâve stayed in school forever if you couldâve.â
He smiles, but he shakes his head. âNo, thatâs not it.â His tone is calm, full of significance, which you feel even more when he rests his steady gaze on yours. âIt meant time was running out. It meant Iâd spent five years liking you and still hadnât had the balls to tell you.â
You gulp. Youâre suddenly not in the mood to tease him at all. âOh,â is all you can manage to say.
He laughsâclearly, seeing you flustered is amusing to him. âYeah.â He props himself up on his elbow, gazing down at you in a way that sends your heart into a frenzy. âI got a little carried away last night,â he starts. âWhen Chaewon told me about her plans to dress in our school clothes and come here â yes, she told me before everyone else, donât look at me like that â Iâd planned to tell you today, I had a whole thing written out, but last night, you⊠I donât know, you were drunk so maybe I shouldnât have put so much weight to your words, but it sounded like you might like me back? And I couldnât stop myself. I had to tell you immediately. And today⊠Iâm not mistaken, right? You do like me?â
Tears prickle at your eyes. To think that this has been on his mind for so long, that youâre the reason behind the worried look on his face, that heâs the one asking for your confirmationâyou can hardly make sense of it all. If only youâd looked closer, if youâd been less scared, you mightâve been wearing this exact same outfit, laying in this exact same place, ten years earlier. This isnât to say that you arenât scared anymoreâyouâre terrified out of your wits. But looking into Jaeyunâs face, you donât need to search very long to find reassurance.
âI do, Yun. I really, really do.â
He only stares back at you for a few beats, as if waiting for you to change your mind, to tell him youâre joking. When you donât, his mouth breaks into a wide, radiant smile, and he lets himself fall on his back, hands coming up to hide his face.Â
Suddenly, you realize how real this is. How genuine Jaeyun is. It isnât a cruel prank heâs decided to play on you, but the truth of what he feels for you. For what must be the first time since last night, you let yourself react the way any sane person would upon finding out the person theyâve loved for years loves them back: youâre happy. Unbelievably, indescribably happy. And itâs terrifying when you know this happiness might be ripped from your hands at any momentâbut youâll worry about that later. Right now, all you see is the man laying next to you, his smile full of light, his sweet, glimmering eyes. A small tear escapes your eye at the same time as a chuckle leaves your throat.
He returns to his previous position, grinning down at you while he rests his upper body on his elbow. âOkay, this is totally cool. Iâm not freaking out at all,â he says, making you laugh. His smile widens. He picks a daisy from the ground, reaches for your hand. Tying the stem around your ring finger, he says, âI wanted to tell you this today, in our school uniforms, as a way to get justice for my teenager self. I know itâs silly, but I feel like Iâm only able to do this because he liked you so much.âÂ
But it isnât silly at all. Itâs the nicest, most romantic thing anyone has ever done for you.
He takes a deep breath, looks up from where your hand rests in his, to your eyes. âI love you, Y/N. Iâm sorry it took me so long to tell you. And I canât explain to you how happy I am that I still have a chance after all this time.â
Itâs not a singular tear rolling down your face anymore, itâs the whole waterworks threatening to explode the longer Jaeyun looks at you with those eyes, so tender and full of affection. You roll onto your side, resting your forehead against his shoulder so he canât see your faceâitâs enough that he can hear your sniffling, that he can feel your shoulders shake against him, especially as he wraps an arm around your waist to bring you closer. Your feelings overwhelm youâyou want to cry, to laugh, to hold him as tight as you can, to run away and stop him from witnessing how vulnerable he makes you. With his free hand, he pets your hair, saying he hopes these are happy tears.
âTheyâre very, very happy tears,â you reply between sobs. You probably sound ridiculous, but Jaeyun doesnât seem to mind, holding you through it all.
âGood,â he whispers.
Itâs a shame that it took you this long to realize you forgot something you shouldnât ever haveâthat people are the most important. Not relying on the ones you love doesnât make you strong, it makes you a fool.Â
Jaeyunâs presence is reassuring, familiar, and you picture a life in which you lean on his shoulder and cry when you need to. In which you hold him tight and share every moment with him, not just the happy ones. It sounds so much better than what youâve been doing for the past ten years. He smiles at you, and youâre flooded with the relief and gratitude that this is the life he wants, too.
For a while, he just holds you, the sun shining down on your bodies. This is what you were so fearful ofâJaeyunâs familiar scent enveloping you, his hand rubbing reassuring circles against your back, his hair soft in your hands. Eventually, he says, voice just loud enough for you to hear, âLater, will you talk to me? Will you tell me why you drifted from me?âÂ
Thereâs no anger in his tone, no admonition. Guilt still pangs in your stomach, but thatâs only because you know how badly he deserves an explanation, and because youâre amazed that even now, heâs so patient and understanding with you. âI will,â you reply.
You donât know how long you stay there, laughing at Jaeyunâs anecdotes of all the ways he tried to show you he liked you. All the times he ran home in the rain because you didnât bring an umbrella, all the fish cakes he sacrificed because they were your favorite part of tteokbokki, all the pocket money he spent on your favorite snacks.Â
âI thought about you so often once you left,â he says. âI worried so much. If you were eating well, if you were making new friends at university. Then if your job was treating you well. I wanted to call you all the time, but I didnât want to annoy you. I thought you were moving on, and that maybe I should too. But I never was able to.â
Youâre a little bashful as you tell him that you never did, either. âI compared all the guys I dated to you. And they were never as nice, as thoughtful, asââ
âAs handsome, as smart, as amazing as me, I get it, donât worry,â he teases, and you swat his shoulder lightly.Â
âObviously, but you donât need to be so smug about it.â
âIf youâre going to tell me none of your little boyfriends measured up to me, of course Iâm going to be smug about it, are you kidding me? This is the best news Iâve received in my life.â
You only realize how long youâve been lying there when your phone dings with a text from your aunt, asking whether youâll be home for dinner. Itâs almost seven p.m. alreadyâthe two of you spent three hours, just talking and laughing. He pouts a little when you tell him you should head home, but he obliges anyway.
When he drops you off at your auntâs house, he comes out of the car with you and hugs you tightly before you head inside. âThank you for this afternoon. Iâll see you tomorrow, yeah?â he says, lips moving against your hair.
You nod and, with a quick peck to his cheek, you bolt for your front door before he can react and try to do something crazy, like properly kiss you.
âWait, before you go,â he says as you grab the door handle. Turning around to look at him, breath catches, thinking heâs going to tell you something important, yet another thing that will change your lifeââCan you tell me about those lame dudes you dated again?â
You roll your eyes, biting back a smile. âGoodbye, Jaeyun.â
âYou love me!â
You smile at him, wide and unabashed.Â
Because you do love him. You really, really do.
.
.
You plop yourself on the couch next to your aunt, the latest Drag Race season playing on the TV. She hands you the bag of caramel popcorn and you grab a handful.Â
âI heard a car,â she says. âDid Jaeyun drop you off? Is that why youâre smiling so much?â
You only now notice the ache in your cheeks. âIâm not smiling that much,â you say, forcing your features into humorlessness, but the corners of your lips keep rising of their own volition.
âYouâre smiling a lot. More than you already usually do with him,â she says, giving you a knowing look.
You gape at her. âDonât tell me you knew too?â
âKnew what? That you and Jaeyun have liked each other since you were teenagers? I mightâve had an inkling, yeah.â
Her grin is wicked as you bury your face in your hands, groaning. âSo it really was everyone but him and me.â
âI think you knew,â she says, her tone gentle. âBut you didnât want to admit it to yourself. Especially in the last few months before you left, youâd always get a look about your face when I mentioned him. You never wanted to say you were sad to be leaving, but it was clear you were, if only because of him.â
You frown. âI was sad to leave you, too. And Chaewon, and Yunjin. And Mrs. Kim, because I knew I wouldnât find better tteokbokki anywhere else.â
She shrugs. âSure. But you were sad to leave Jaeyun in particular.â
You fidget with your hands, letting her words sink in. âAnd I have to leave him again in two days,â you whisper.
She wraps an arm around your shoulder, squeezes it slightly. âBut itâll be different this time around, right?â
DIfferent. Youâll call. Youâll make plans for him to come. Youâll let him into your life, into your heart. Youâll let him break down your walls, brick by brick.
âYeah. It will,â you say quietly, willing your worries to dissipate.
You meet her gaze, and she smiles. Jaeyun is only one of the many people youâve kept at bay for too long now.
âCome on,â she says, getting up from the couch. âIâm making meatball pasta, your favorite.â
âItâs your favorite.â
It was one of the few meals she made on rotation whenever she had time to cookâit is your favorite, only because eating it meant you were spending the evening together. You cut vegetables while she seasons the meat, telling each other about your day. Maybe itâs because youâre in such a wonderful mood from your afternoon with Jaeyun, but the atmosphere between the two of you feels particularly light-hearted today, which is why youâre so surprised when she suddenly tells you you should talk about âwhat happened last time.â Your stomach clenches, but you nodâyou knew it was going to happen sooner or later, so you might as well get over it quickly, and she seems to be of the same opinion.
âI know weâre both bad at this, so Iâll keep it short,â she starts, keeping her eyes on the preparation. You really are cut from the same clothâyou continue chopping carrots, glad to have something to do with your hands. âIâm sorry about those things I said. It was an emotional time for both of us, what with Jaeyunâs grandmother and all, but I shouldnât have let my emotions get the best of me. Itâs my fault we never talked about your parents. About your mom. I know you wouldâve liked to, but I never could. And you do remind me of her. Gosh, you look so much like her at your age. But you canât do anything about that, and what I said about looking at you and seeing her, that wasnât fair. It sounded like I blamed you, which is the last thing I wanted to do.
âShe always took care of me, because she was older than me by so many years, you know. She called herself my second mom. And all of a sudden, it felt like I had to take care of her. Itâs ironic, since my literal job is to take care of people, but I didnât know how to, with you.â
âI didnât make it easy. I barely talked to you,â you say quietly. Itâs true that you canât expect the same maturity from a teenager and a young adult, but thinking back on it, you canât help but think you couldâve been softer on your aunt. More understanding. You wanted her to replace your parents while resenting her for it. You made no effort at communication yet pushed her away every time she made an attempt to talk to you.
âYou were so young, and dealing with all that loss. I shouldâve tried harder, but you seemed so independent, spending all that time with your friends, making yourself dinner when I wasnât home. It felt like you didnât need me, and I have to admit, I was relieved. I was hanging on by a thread. I didnât know how I could take care of a whole other human being.â
Your breathing is shallow. You spent so many years struggling, each of you in your little corner, at armâs length from each other but too scared to reach out a hand.
âIt felt like you didnât want me around,â you whisper, head hanging low.Â
âOh, honey.â She drops her spoon and in a second has you wrapped in her arms, the tightest hug sheâs ever given you, tighter than when you first arrived at her house, tighter than when you first left. âIâm so, so sorry. I was so glad to have you here. Sure, it was a reminder that Iâd lost my sister, but you were a reason to keep going. I had to go to work so you could eat. I had to stay healthy enough to work. You were the only person on this planet that needed me. Iâm sorry I didnât do a better job of it, and that I didnât show you how much I needed you. How much I love you. But I promise that I never, ever wished you werenât with me.â
Itâs impossible to keep the tears at bay at this point. Tears start pouring down your face, and at the sight, her own tears quickly follow suitâyou sob in each other's arms, apologizing over and over again, and by the time youâre done, the meatballs are overcooked and yet the best youâve ever had.
Between Jaeyun this afternoon, and your aunt this evening, today has been a whirlwind of emotionsâwith Chaewonâs wedding tomorrow, youâll probably be drained on your flight back to the city. You have half a mind to take Monday off, just so you can rest from your holiday.Â
For now, youâll rest from today. Youâre exhausted, but it takes a while for sleep to claim youâyour mind is reeling, replaying Jaeyunâs words, the unspoken promises they contain. Your heart is still swelling with hope when you finally fall asleep.
.
.
It takes a few seconds for yesterdayâs events to come back to you after you wake up. It feels like reliving them all over againâJaeyunâs face next to yours on the soccer field, his hand in yours on the drive home, the conversation with your aunt that feels like one of many steps towards the right direction. And to think you dreaded this weekend for months before coming here.
When Jaeyun pulls up in front of your auntâs house, sheâs quicker than either of you, opening the door before heâs even reached it and inviting him in for coffee. You make a quick mental note of his outfit, a matching dark green suit and vest with a white button-up that fit him a little too well, the veins that run along his forearms down to his hands prominent and a debilitating sight if youâve ever seen one. Out of concern for your well-being you put that image immediately out of your headâyou really donât need to know how attractive Jaeyunâs hands are.
While youâre trying to gather yourself, with a wide smile, your aunt stares at him sipping his drink, eyes darting around the room awkwardly. Heâs always been a little nervous around her, which confused you back then, but endears you nowâbefore every party he picked you up for, heâd be overly polite, assuring her heâd get you home early and safe, standing with his back straight in your hallway as he waited for you like someone trying to impress their girlfriendâs father. Sheâd wave him off, telling you you could come home shit-faced at three a.m. as long as you were with âthis guy.â
Itâs so obvious that sheâs over-the-moon about him being her nephew-in-law. When he clears his throat, saying, âIâll take good care of Y/N, I hope you can trust me,â like this is the seventies and he needs to ask her for your hand, she laughs in his face.
âOh, Iâm not worried about you. Itâs her Iâm worried about.â
âAuntie?â
She ignores you, slides her elbows on the table towards Jaeyun in a conspiratorial manner. âListen. She can be very grumpy in the morningââ
âAuntie?!â
âAnd she overthinks everything, even if sheâll never let you know about it. She gets all these crazy ideas about people in her head, so just make sure to talk to her a lot so you know whatâs going on up there. Even if you have to force her.â
Youâre glaring at her by the time sheâs done, but Jaeyunâs delighted. âThank you for the advice. Iâll make sure to remember it.â
âGood. Now, off you two go. Iâll meet you tonight for the party,â she says with one last wink at you, unfazed by your I-will-murder-you expression as she gets up to put the empty mugs in the sink.
In the car, Jaeyun breaks the silence first. âSo, grumpy in the morning, huh?â
âOh my God,â you mutter, bringing a hand to your temple like your head aches. âI liked it better when you were terrified of her.â
Jaeyun laughs, reaching for your hand and resting it on your lap. âItâs okay. Iâll cheer you up every morning like my life depends on it.â You purse your lips to stop them from curving into a smile. It doesnât work. âPlus, I canât imagine youâd be grumpy waking up to this,â he says, pointing to his face.
You roll your eyes. âDonât be so sure of yourself,â you say as though you donât agree with himâseeing him first thing in the morning would surely do wonders for your mood, not just when you wake up, but for the entire day.
You know heâs only teasing you, but you have an unexpected problem to deal with now: thoughts of waking up to Sim Jaeyun, thoughts of being in a bed with Sim Jaeyun, thoughts of what usually happens when two people who love each other share a bed. You gulp. When you look over at him, thereâs only a serene smile on his lips. One day in, and youâre already getting carried away. Heâs probably not even thinking about such things, and you feel guilty about the dull ache in your stomach created by the pictures that your brain is conjuring.
When you arrive at the town hall, youâre greeted by your old friends, standing on the steps in their best clothes. The weather is perfect, the sun shining down warmly but a small breeze stops you from sweating your clothes off. Chaewon and Jaemin decided against staying cooped up in a small room before the ceremonyâthey thought itâd be much nicer to be there to greet their guests, and that getting to be around each other would prevent any last-minute nerves.
A little before eleven, Chaewonâs sister and Jaeminâs siblings, as the bridesmaids and groomsmen, start ushering everyone in. Once youâre seated inside and waiting for the ceremony to start, Jaeyun leans down towards you, and, quietly enough so only you hear him, whispers, âShould we hijack their wedding? They havenât been waiting as long as I have.â
You gasp at his words, lightly swatting his chest while he only grins at you, clearly satisfied with your reaction.
âIâm just kidding,â he says. âThis isnât how Iâm planning on proposing.â
âPlanning onâSim Jaeyun, be serious for a second.â
âWhat?â he asks, feigning an innocent tone even as mischief stays written on his features. âIâm very serious about propoââ
Who knows how his sentence ends, because his words are muffled by the hand you put over his mouth.
The ceremony is beautiful, presided over by Chaewonâs dad, who says that in all his years as mayor of Gimcheon, there isnât a marriage heâs been happier to officiate than todayâs. As Chaewon recites her vows, all you can see is your best friend at fifteen, crying because her favorite idol was embroiled in a dating scandal; at seventeen, making vision boards out of her momâs old wedding magazines; at twenty-two, giggling on the phone because, âDid you know Na Jaemin has had a serious glow-up since high school?â
At twenty-five, telling you she hopes youâll find the person who makes you as happy as Jaemin makes her.Â
Jaeyunâs hand stays in yours the entire time. You feel him glancing over you a few times, but youâre too scared that if you meet his eyes, youâll break down crying, and youâve done enough of that to last you a few weeks.
There are many pictures to be taken outside of the town hall, plus the bouquet toss â when Giselle catches it, Jenoâs face turns crimson â so itâs a while before you can all start heading to the cottage that Chaewonâs and Jaeminâs family have rented out for the occasion, for extended family and friends who couldnât be lodged at someoneâs house to stay in. For lunch, the caterer has prepared a large cold buffet with everything from thin slices of meat to charcuterie boards and three types of potato salad.
Itâs a really idyllic place theyâve chosen, especially in the middle of Julyâthe flowers are in full bloom, climbing cream and pink roses spilling over metal trellises, the scent of lavender bushes wafting delicately through the air. Chairs and tables covered in white drapes are neatly set around the garden and huge ribbons made of alabaster-colored gaze decorate a large oak tree.Â
You know from a phone call with Chaewon that as hands-on as she was with the wedding preparations, there was one thing that hadnât been up to her to organizeâthe afternoon activity, between lunch with family and close friends and dinner with a larger number of guests. Jaeminâs sisters had told her theyâd take care of it. âBut theyâre the kind of people who give people missions to do at parties,â she complained. âI once had to win at rock-paper-scissors with three total strangers.â
âBut no oneâs forcing you to participate,â you said.
âIt was a question of pride,â she replied, firm. âI had to make a good impression.â
You can see the relief flood over Chaewonâs features when they announce that theyâve planned a scavenger hunt for this afternoon, and that those who donât wish to partake can hang back and have a rest. The groups are assigned randomly, so youâre separated from Jaeyun, but your teammates are friendlyâJaeminâs great-aunt and Chaewon seven-year-old little cousin make for a surprisingly comedic duo, and you and Giselle, who you can confirm once and for all is much cooler than her boyfriend Jeno, spend the whole time cracking up at their antics.
Jaeminâs sisters have created a list of clues to guide you to different places around the venue, where you need to complete little tasksâeach team starts out with a different clue, and is guided around by the new clues they find at each spot. In the guest book by the entrance, you each describe a memory you share with the bride or groom; by the lily pond, the four of you take a polaroid picture as a keepsake for the newlyweds; behind the bar, thereâs a corkboard on which you can tack heart-shaped pieces of paper and write down your predictions for their marriage. You write down that theyâll have 3 under 3, and Chaewonâs cousin writes that theyâll get to drink milkshakes for breakfastâwhen you ask him what thatâs about, he says that his mom said only adults are allowed milkshakes for breakfast, âand adults are usually married, so maybe thatâs what theyâll do.â
You arrive in fifth place, so you only win a piece of candy eachâbut when you find Jaeyun again, he tells you gloatingly that heâll share his third-place box of chocolates with you. Slowly after that, more guests start arriving, including your aunt. The main room opens up, and you see just how much effort Chaewon has put into all of thisâitâs straight from her Pinterest board, with white roses in the center of every table, tulle curtains draped over the windows, and fairy lights adorning the walls. Candied almonds in small white bags, with a tag that reads C+J, rest on every plate as gifts for the guests. The cottage was the perfect choice for the reception, with its wooden panels that contrast against the cream-colored decorations. Theyâve hired Beomgyu, an old high school friend of yours, as their DJ, and for now, as heâs setting up his station, a relaxed R&B playlist drifts quietly through the speakers.
Youâre seated between Yunjin and Jaeyun. You mingle at first, champagne glass in hand as you catch up with Chaewonâs mom, at whose house you spent so many of your teenage hours. She has stars in her eyes, telling you how happy she is for your daughter, and when she asks whether thereâs a lucky man in your life, you canât help but glance at Jaeyun, whoâs talking with Mrs. Lee, one of his old elementary school teachers, Chaewonâs colleague now. She follows your gaze and exclaims in delight. âChaewon always said you two would end up together! Well, better late than never,â she says with a wink. Someone calls her name then, and youâre left to process her words.
Considering Yunjin and your aunt had you figured it out, it isnât so surprising that Chaewon wouldâve long been aware of your and Jaeyunâs feelings for each otherâwhatâs taking you aback is the fact she never said anything. She teased you just as much as your classmates did, and she did ask you a couple of times if you really didnât feel anything for him (which you always adamantly declined, and you understand now that that mustâve only made her only more suspicious of you), but she never pushed any further. Her words from a few days earlier suddenly come back to youââI promise you someone is out there. Maybe closer than you think.â
You make a mental note to find a minute alone with her tonight, and congratulate her for being much smarter and perceptive than you ever were.
The appetizers start rolling outâJaeyun is still so engrossed in his conversation with Mrs. Lee that you go ahead and make him a plate with a little bit of everything. When you hand it to him, he looks at you like youâve just handed him a million bucks. After you go back to your seat, you often feel him or Mrs. Lee glancing your way, and you have an inkling of what they might be talking about.
Before the main course, the parents give their speeches togetherâJaeminâs share embarrassing anecdotes of their son and thank Chaewon for taking him off their hands; Chaewonâs mom is so emotional throughout her speech that her husband has to take over her parts.Â
The atmosphere at your table during dinner is great, and itâs very entertaining to see the champagne start to get to everyoneâs headsâyouâve only had a couple glasses, and Jaeyun is driving later, so youâre both sober watching your friends exaggerate everything they say and laugh over nothing much. When youâre done eating, his hand often finds yours underneath the table, and it never fails to make your insides feel pleasantly warm.Â
After dinner, the music suddenly shuts off for a few seconds, before Canât Help Falling In Love by Elvis Presley, the song for Chaewonâs parentsâ first dance at their own wedding, which she wanted to turn into a tradition. Everyone watches the couple gently swaying around the dance floor. They look at each other as though they are the only people in this entire room; on this entire planet. After a minute, other couples start joining them; when Jaeyun stands up and offers you his hand, you donât even hesitate for a second.
You feel a little shy, standing before him and looking into his eyes, so you rest your head on his chest instead, letting him hold you close to him and guide you around the dance floor, one arm around your waist, holding your hand in his free one.
âThank you for waiting for me,â you say, lifting your face a little so he can hear you.
He bends down towards you, his lips grazing your forehead as he speaks. âThank you, too, angel.â The nickname is unexpected, and makes your heart skip a beat. When he presses his lips to the top of your head, you think that if this wasnât your best friendâs wedding, you might be debating the ethics of leaving before dessertâs been served. âI promise Iâll make you happy,â he whispers.
âYou already are.â You wish you could live in the way he gazes down at you, eyes warm and full of adoration. âYou make me feel like a teenager. Like Iâm still the sixteen-year-old who got giddy at the thought of seeing you at school every morning.â
âIs that right?â he asks, smile turning a little smug. You like nervous, bashful Jaeyun betterâthis Jaeyun, the intensity of his gaze as it trails down your face until it reaches your lips, the feeling of his thumb roving across your waist, makes you want to curl up and hide your face in the crook of his neck. He makes your knees weak and your breath shaky.
You stop yourself from looking away, eyes set on his as you nod your head.
âThatâs funny, because Iâm very aware that weâre not teenagers anymore,â he says.
You donât ask what he means by that, and he doesnât offer an explanation, so youâre left to ponder his words on your ownâalthough the tone with which he spoke, teasing and enticing, canât leave you with much room for interpretation.
But just as your eyes drift down to his lips, and you swear he leans a fraction of the way in, the song is over. You step back from him a second after every couple has separated, turning towards the newlyweds and clapping for them.Â
Itâs back to 2010s pop after that, and he doesnât let you go back to your seatâthe rest of your friends quickly join you anyway, and even you canât say no to jumping around and screaming the lyrics when itâs Lady Gaga and Black Eyed Peas playing. Jaeyun makes you spin around, his hands firm on your hips during more sensual songs, his worst (or best, if you ask him) moves on display whenever a song calls for it, and you canât stop laughing.Â
You need a large drink of water eventually, and take the opportunity to look for Chaewon. You find her at the dessert buffet, stacking mini brownies on her plate. She looks startled when you call her name. âThese arenât all for me,â she says quickly.
âIâm not judging,â you say, smiling.
âOkay, good, âcause theyâre definitely all for me. I barely ate all night âcause I was so nervous and Iâm famished now.â
You laugh and get a plate, filling it with more food for her before leading her to your presently unoccupied table. âThank you,â she says with an exaggerated sigh as she plops down on Yunjinâs chair. âI love my family, but theyâve been taking up all of my attention. I just wanna come dance with you guys.â
âWeâll join them in a bit. Can I just tell you something first?â
She tilts her head at you, her smile like she already knows what youâre about to say. âOf course. And,â she says, taking your hands in hers, âIâve got something to ask you, too. But you go first.â
You surprise yourself with how easily the words come to youâno hesitation over how to phrase it, no nervousness. They feel so natural, rolling off your tongue. âMe and Jaeyun are together.â
She squeals, immediately throwing her arms around you. âI knew it! Finally! It took you guys so long, I was so close to intervening and playing Cupid myself. Oh, Y/N!â she exclaims, bringing you into another hug, not letting you place a word. âLove is in the air. You know, I think knowing Jae and I were getting married mightâve been the trigger for Jaeyun. When he told me he wanted to confess to you over this weekend, I was ecstatic. You can basically thank me for having a boyfriend.â
You laugh. âThank you, Chaewon. Youâve known all along, havenât you?âÂ
She nods proudly. âIt was always so obvious. Jaeyun told me a few months after high school ended, but youââ She points an accusing finger at you. âYou never did! But you tried too hard to pretend like you were indifferent when I mentioned him on the phone.â
You look down at the floor, feeling a little guilty, a little shy. âI could barely admit it to myself, let alone to anyone else. And I was so, so scared, Chae. Even nowâŠâ You look longingly over at the dance floor, where Jaeyun is clearly having the time of his life, throwing his limbs around with Heeseung and Jenoâwhen he meets your eyes, he waves happily, then returns to what seems to be an attempt at the robot. You sigh. âItâs not like I change my ways overnight, can I? Being so far from him, I donât knowâŠâ
âDonât think about that right now,â Chaewon says, commanding your attention back to her. âJust enjoy it. Itâs what both of you deserve. When you run into a problem, youâll figure it out together. Heâs waited this long, I promise you itâs not a little distance thatâll drive him away now.â
You nod. âOkay. Youâre right.â
âOf course I am. Now, I have some news to share too. And itâs our secret, okay?â
Excited, you shift forward on your chair, inching closer to her. âOkay.â
She gazes downward with a smile, lets go of one of your hands to rest on her stomach. Your mouth falls open, and when she looks back up at you, her eyes shiny, you immediately feel yours start to burn. âIf you say yes, Y/N, youâll be a godmother soon.â
âOh my God, Chae,â you whisper, tears already pooling in your eyes.
She giggles. âJaeyunâs already agreed to be the godfather, so it only makes more sense now, doesnât it? And yes, before you ask, Iâm absolutely using my unborn child as emotional blackmail to get you to call and visit more often. And Iâll be coming to see you in the city and make you take me around cute baby shops and buy me all the food I want.
âOh my God, Chae. Youâre having a whole baby,â you whisper, incredulous. Your heads lean in towards each other, almost bumping as you laugh.
âI know, right? We wanted to wait until our honeymoon was over to start trying, but⊠Well, Iâll spare you the details, but weâve never gone at it so much since getting engagedââ
âAlright.â
âSo, what do you say?â she asks, a hopeful expression on her face.
You squeeze her hands. âHow could I say anything but yes? Of course Iâll be your kidâs godmother. Iâm so honored that youâre asking me, when I havenât been an ideal friend.â
She shakes her head. âDonât. We understand you, Y/N, more than I think you give us credit for. And I trust you to make up for it now, okay?â
You nod, tears freely streaming down your cheeks now. âI will. I absolutely will. I love you so much, Chae. Iâm so happy for you.â
Her laugh is the prettiest sound to your ears. âI love you too, Y/N.â
She leans back, takes a deep breath as she wipes her tears. âIs my makeup okay?â When you nod, she gets up and says, âOkay. To the dance floor!â
Now that theyâve gone through every step and are reassured that their wedding couldnât have gone more smoothly, Jaemin and Chaewon let it all out on the dance floor. What starts out as a pretty big crowd, a large portion of the guests up and dancing, fizzles out as the hour grows late. The more elderly relatives have long retired, and it isnât long before the older adults leave, too, finding their children asleep on random chairs and dragging them out of the venue. Soon, the population on the dance floor is more or less constituted of your high school friends and Chaewonâs and Jaeminâs cousins of your age. When Beomgyu starts to play slower songs around the three a.m. mark, you canât believe itâs this late already. You were having so much fun you had no idea so much time had passed.
The catering crew has cleared the tables and packed away all their silver- and dinnerware, and your friends, in their drunken state, offer to wipe the floors and take the decorations down, but Chaewon and Jaemin shoo them off, assuring them that theyâll be taking care of it with their families in the morning.
You have to admit, now that the energyâs gone down, you start to feel yourself ready for bed, your feet aching from overuse, even though you took your high heels off hours ago to dance with more ease. It doesnât help that Jaeyun stays right behind you as everyone starts heading off, his hand low and casual on your hip as you wave them all goodbye and promise to stay in touch. He only hangs back when you have to say goodbye to Chaewonâyour flight is around noon tomorrow, so you wonât have time to see her again.
Hugging her tight, you tell her again how beautiful she looked tonight and how happy you are for her. You wish her and Jaemin a happy honeymoon, and she winks back, telling you to have fun, too. âBut safe fun!â she yells as you and Jaeyun start making your way to his car. âI love you but youâre not stealing my babyâs spotlight!â
Jaeyun is still laughing as he gets in the driverâs seat, while youâre flooded with embarrassment. âSo she told you, then?â he asks.
âYeah.â
âWeâre gonna be godparents,â he says, grinning. âSome might say weâre moving a little fast, but I think itâs right.â
Youâre smiling impossibly wide. âYouâre stupid.â
âAnd youâre pretty,â he replies, brushing his knuckle along your jaw. Itâs an innocent touch, but just like that, the dull ache in your stomach reappearsâmaybe itâs his proximity all night, all tension and no release, or the fact that itâs the two of you in pure darkness on this late night road, or Chaewonâs comment ringing in your head, but you suddenly find yourself craving for a lot more than an innocent touch. As though he can read your mind, Jaeyun clears his throat. âDo you, um, do you want to go back to mine?â he asks, eyes going back-and-forth between you and the road as though not wanting to miss your reaction.
âYeah,â you whisper. The air conditioning is on full blast, yet your skin is on fire. âYeah. Iâd like that.â
âOkay.â
Youâre silent for the rest of the car ride, mind racing with possibility. Jaeyunâs hand trembles ever so slightly in yours, like he can barely restrain himself, and you agree that the twenty minutes to his apartment are the longest youâve ever had to endure. You play with his fingers, hoping the gesture will be calming to both of you, but the feeling of his skin against yours only makes your heart race faster.
His apartment is on the first floor of a small building in the center of Gimcheon. He leads you up the stairs, fingers intertwined with yours, only letting go to open his door. âLayla will be excited to meet you,â he says as he turns the keyâindeed, youâre greeted warmly by the cream-colored Border Collie. She seems much happier to meet someone new than to see her boring old owner, who notices this with a frown, huffing something about âbetrayalâ and âyour own kidsâŠâ as Layla licks your hands and presents her belly for pets.
âI should probably walk her quickly, she hasnât been out since this morning,â Jaeyun says, an endeared smile on his face as he watches the two of you get acquainted.
âShould I come with?â
Crouching beside you, he shakes his head. âI know youâre tired, angel. Iâll just be ten minutes, you can wash up in the meantime.â
You follow him into the bathroom, where he hands you a towel and tells you to help yourself to anything you need. âWait here a minute,â he says, then disappears into his bedroom, coming back with clean clothes for you to wear. Heâs sheepish as he rests them on the sink counter, a small smile playing on his lips. âHere. They might be a bit big, but more comfortable than your dress.â
âThanks, Yun.â
âNo worries.â He hesitates for a second, then presses a quick kiss to your temple. âIâll be quick.â
Even after he leaves, the smile on your lips is wide and unwavering, your heartbeat fast, your fingers twitchy and impatient. You find lotion to wipe your makeup off with, and have far too much fun analyzing all of his shower products as the hot water runs over your body. You can hardly keep your giddiness in check at the thought of washing yourself with Jaeyunâs soap, drying yourself with his towel, then wearing his clothes and finding yourself enveloped with the delicate floral scent of his laundry detergent. He gave you a navy t-shirt with the logo of his familyâs business on the front and a pair of basketball shorts that reach your knees, and that you have to tie very tightly at your hips so it stays up. You canât help but admire yourself in the mirror, for some reason feeling more like a girlfriend than ever before in your life.
When you hear the front door open, you come out to meet him in his living room. As Layla trots over to her bed, he stops for a second when he sees you, mouth slightly agape as his eyes rake your body. You feel shy under his gaze, but surprise yourself by also revelling in the attention, in the way his desire is so evident in his gaze, in the smirk that grows on his lips as he crosses the distance to you.
âNice walk?â you ask.
âYeah. You look good,â he says, hands finding your hips, shameless in the way he looks down at you now.
In the shower, you were so preoccupied with simply being here that you didnât spare a thought for what would happen nextânow, under the intensity of Jaeyunâs gaze and the effect of his proximity, you feel unprepared, completely at a loss for what to do with yourself.
Itâs lucky for you that Jaeyun, on the other hand, seems to know exactly what he wants to do with you.
âCan I kiss you?â he asks, voice low and gravelly unlike youâve ever heard it before, and it sends shivers down your spines. You donât trust your voice to work properly, so you nod your assent instead.
Seconds pass like eternity between his question and the moment his lips actually touch your lips. One of his hands leaves your hips to find your chin instead, raising it a little with his thumb so your face is perfectly angled towards his. His touch is gentle, more of a request than a demand, and you crave to melt into it, to let him lead you wherever he wants you.
His lips meet yours, delicate and cautious, like he doesnât want to scare you off. They move languidly against each other, giving you the time you need to adapt to this without being overwhelmed. You raise your arms and wrap them around his neck while his hand sneaks its way to your lower back, pushing you gently closer towards him, your chest now flush to his. Fire courses through your veins as his tongue meets yours, deepening the kiss and making your thoughts hazy, incoherent, unimportant.
You never dreamed it would be this easy. One kiss, and itâs like a faucetâs opened up inside you, all the desire and want and longing that youâve kept trapped inside pouring out of you boundlessly. You wouldnât know how to control it if you had toâand thankfully, Jaeyun doesnât seem to want you to. He meets you right where you are, holding onto you just as tightly as you are onto him, moaning shamelessly when your fingers tug sharply at his hair, his head thrown back as you pepper his throat with wet, messy kisses.Â
His mouth doesnât leave yours as he walks you to his bedroom. Only when he sits down on his bed do you get a glimpse of his expressionâthe lust-blown pupils, the reddened cheeks, the lips plump and shiny with saliva. His hands are practically on your ass as he brings you down towards him, helping you into a straddling position on his lap. He presses kisses to your cheek, your jawline, then, resting his forehead against yours, asks with a throaty voice, âYouâre okay with this?â
You smile, wrap your arms tighter around his neck. âIâm definitely okay with this.â
âGood,â he replies, then wastes no time pressing his lips back to yours.
Years of repressed feelings come out in this kissâthat much is clear in its desperation, in the way you both grab onto whatever parts of the other you can reach, like you want to tether yourselves to each other. When you break apart for air, Jaeyun whispers in your ear how long heâs wanted to do this, lips brushing against your skin as he speaks, making you shake lightly in his hold. The longer you kiss, the weaker the resistance in your thighs grows, and you soon find yourself sitting right on his lap, his bulge hard and demanding attention beneath you. His grip on your hips tightens, but itâs the only sign he gives you of being affectedâonly when you roll your hips experimentally against his does he let out a loud moan right into your mouth, which you take as a green light to keep going.Â
You push him down onto the mattress, practically laying on top of him as you grind yourself against him, a small whimper leaving your throat every time his erection rubs perfectly against your clit through your shared layers of clothing. Heâs still wearing his wedding outfit, and when his hands leave your body to unbutton his shirt, you waste no time in helping him, untucking his shirt from his trousers, unbuckling his belt. He chuckles at your eagerness, but you canât bring yourself to feel even a little embarrassedâyou donât think youâve ever desired anything this badly, and itâs messing with your head. Jaeyun looks at you like he could eat you right up, so you decide thereâs no use in hiding your appetite from him.
His hands slip underneath your t-shirt, and your skin blazes with the heat of his touch. They trail up your sides, nails briefly grazing your waist and back before they find your breasts. He gently rubs one of your nipples between his fingers, and Jaeyun curses when you release a moan in the crook of his neck, pressing your crotch against his with more urgency than before. âDoes that feel good, baby?â he asks, voice breathy as you squirm under his touch.
âYes, Yun.â
He hums in satisfaction, one hand on your ass to guide your movements against him, the other alternating between your breasts to pay them equal attention, lips never relenting in their quest to leave no inch of your neck unkissed.Â
Itâs too much and too little at once. A familiar coil tightens in your stomach, and you canât believe youâre already this close to coming undone from thisâevery man youâve slept with before has had to put in a lot more work to get you even near the edge. But with Jaeyun, all it takes is a few minutes of heavy petting and his voice in your ears, telling you how well youâre doing for him, how pretty you look using him to get yourself off.
âThatâs it, baby,â he coos as your moans get louder, your movements more erratic. âIâve got you. Let it go for me.â Itâs all you need for your orgasm to wash over you and leave you a trembling mess in his arms, his hold around your waist tight as he kisses your temple and shushes you gently.Â
When youâve calmed down somewhat, he helps you onto your back, shifting so that your head rests on his pillows. Now that youâve regained your senses, the reality of what youâve done, what youâre doing hits you. Resting on his elbow, Jaeyun gazes down at you fondly, and although you wouldâve reveled in it mere moments ago, the intensity of his attention now only brings heat to your face. You canât quite meet his eyes, a small, bashful smile playing on your lips as you play with the lapels of shirt collar. He must sense this shift in your demeanor, and asks, âDo you wanna keep going?â
Lust pangs low in your stomach. You force yourself to look into his eyes, giving him an almost imperceptible nod. His desire is so obvious on him, and truth be told, you hadnât even thought you might stop here when he still needs taking care of. The smile on his lips grows, but when you reach out to touch his erection, he tilts his head, grabbing your wrist and laying it back down next to your body. âI didnât say I was done with you, baby,â he purrs, leaning down to kiss your neck, one hand slipping under your t-shirt again.Â
âButââ
âIâve waited so long, angel. Dreamed about having you like this so many times. So be patient and give me this much, hm?â
You release a shaky breath. How can you say no when he makes it sound like letting him make you feel good is doing him a favor, and not you? âOkay.â
âThank you, angel. Help me with this?â he asks gently, lifting his t-shirt youâre wearing over your head. Youâd feel shy at lying half-naked underneath him if it wasnât for the way he admired you, like an art lover in front of their favorite painting. âSo fucking perfect,â he mutters, leaving a trail of kisses down your throat until he reaches your breasts. âCanât believe youâve been keeping this from me all this time.â
âIâm sorry, Yun.â Youâre already squirming at this touch, body screaming for more than the feather-like kisses he presses to your skin.
âNo, no, baby. Donât apologize. Iâd do it all over again, knowing Iâd get to see you like this in the end. So perfect,â he repeats, and before you can reply, he wraps his lips around your nipple, tongue darting out to lick at the sensitive bud. Your back arches off his bed, but with a firm hand to your stomach, he stops you from writhing away from his touch.Â
He seems to be content with doing this for minutes on end, lips alternating between your nipples, fingers tending to the neglected one, teeth sometimes gently nibbling at your skin, leaving behind small marks on the sides of your breasts. âThere, now you canât forget me,â he says with a self-satisfied smirk when he leans back to admire his work.
âAs if I could,â you whisper back, hands finding purchase in his hair as you bring him back towards you and kiss him.
But soon enough, another part of your body starts burning from lack of attention, but even as you buck your hips towards him to signal what you need, he doesnât noticeâor doesnât care. âYunâŠâ you eventually whine, hoping heâll understand what it is you want from this one word.
âWhatâs wrong, baby? You need something?â he asks, faking an innocent tone.
So he does knowâhe just doesnât want to give it to you so easily. Itâs too bad for you that youâre famously bad at asking for what you need.
You opt instead for grabbing his hand and leading it down to your coreâsurely, thatâs enough of a message. He cups you over your shorts, and your thighs clasp around his wrist, instinctively attempting to create more friction. His hand slips below your waistband, and he groans, forehead falling against your shoulder, when he finds your lack of underwear there. He has direct access to your folds, and he wastes no time sliding two of his fingers there, humming in appreciation. âSo wet,â he mumbles, seemingly more to himself than to you.Â
âPlease, Yun,â you plead, voice almost a winceâand it is in a way painful, having him so close to where you need.
âIâm here, angel. Iâll give you what you want.â And indeed, the next second, the pads of his fingers are on your clit, rubbing torturously slow circles onto it. On the pillow, your head falls to the side in your search for more proximity with himâyou feel his laboured breathing against your face, and you shift your body closer to him, worming one of your legs between his. As though this is getting to his head as much as yours, heâs silent for a while, his fingers gathering speed on your clit, occasionally sliding down your folds and inside of you. They go so much deeper than yours can, brushing against that spot that has your nails digging into his skin. But as he brings you closer and closer to the edge, you find yourself not wanting to fall right away, at least not like this.
âYunâŠâ you breathe out, wrapping your fingers around his wrist. He stops immediately, raising his head to look at you with unnecessary concern, making your heart soften for him.
âAre you okay? Did I hurt you?â
âNo, no, I justâŠâ
You squirm uncomfortably beneath him, and his expression shiftsâdamn him for understanding so quickly what youâre too shy to say. âYou justâŠâ he trails, smug. Resuming his kisses along your throat, he says, âTell me, baby.â
âYou know,â you huff. He laughs against your skin, and even in your annoyance, the melodic sound makes your heart skip a beat.
âHm, but Iâd rather you tell me.â
You hesitate for a few seconds. Your hand finds his bulge again, and this time, he doesnât stop you. You know he wants this as badly as you do, but if telling him is what he needs, then youâll have to comply. âI needâI wantâI want to come on your dick, Jaeyun, please,â you say, forcing out the words as quickly as you can, face burning in embarrassment.
He freezes. You hear his breathing get louder, more rugged, and itâs a few seconds before he raises himself onto his elbows, fingers at your waistband, dragging your shorts down. The smugness has all but left his features, leaving behind something like sternnessâfurrowed eyebrows, dark eyes, tight jaw. As he lifts over his head the white sleeveless tee he was wearing beneath his button-up, your hands make clumsy work of his trousers, pulling them down his thighs along with his underwear. His cock springs free, tip an angry-looking red, already leaking precum, and you wonder at the self-restraint he mustâve been exercising this entire timeâitâs clearly stronger than yours.Â
You wrap a hand around the base, transfixed by the sight, and he groans. You pump him a few times, reveling in the small moans that leave his mouth, muffled in the crook of your neck, and in the way his fingers dig into the skin of your hips. He doesnât let it go on for very long, soon leaning away from you and towards his bedside table. âLet me get a condom, baby,â he says, voice shaky.Â
âIâm on the pill. You donât need to wear one.â His head snaps back towards you, eyes wide like a kid on Christmas day.
âAre you sure?â he asks, but heâs already coming back towards you, elbows on each side of your face, peppering the side of your face with kisses.
You wrap your hand around his dick again, letting his tip graze your clit before lining it with your entrance. âYeah, I am.â
He releases a shaky breath, finding your hand and intertwining his fingers with yours before he finally pushes inside of you, slowly filling you up until he bottoms out. Slick from your previous orgasm and relaxed from his fingers, you accommodate him easily, only needing a few seconds before youâre already bucking up your hips against him, asking for more. For once, Jaeyun doesnât tease youâhe obliges instantly, pushing into you with slow, precise thrusts that have the coil tightening again in your stomach with embarrassing quickness. It doesnât help that Jaeyun groans right into your ear, whispering curses, muttering about how good you feel around him, âLike you were made for me, baby.â
His free hand slides beneath your thigh and lifts it up to rest it against his hipâthis new angle allows him to go deeper, to hit that sensitive spot with every one of his thrusts. As his movements gather speed, you feel yourself inching closer and closer to your orgasm, and when it finally hits, your nails dig into the skin of his bicep, you throw your head back, and you let the pleasure wash over you, your brain going haywire, a loud moan escaping your mouth.
Jaeyun takes the opportunity to latch his lips to your throat, biting and sucking at the skin there, surely leaving yet another mark for you to find in the morning. Youâre holding onto him like you might float away if you donât, thighs shaking as overstimulation starts to set inâand yet, when he asks with a low, gruff voice whether you can handle some more, you find yourself nodding vigorously, ready to take whatever he gives you.
âThatâs my girl.â
He slips out of you and you whine at the loss. But he quickly fills you up again, first turning you onto your side as he spoons you from behind, lifting your thigh to grant him better access and pushing into you again with no hesitation. In this position, heâs able to snake an arm around you and play with your clit, making you throw your head back against his shoulder. His pace is gentle at first, as are the kisses he presses to the side of your neck and to your shoulder as he lets you adjust to this new, deeper angle. But it doesnât take long for his rhythm to quicken as he seems to be nearing release himselfâhis thrusts get sloppier, harsher, the sounds he makes more desperate.
You didnât think itâd be possible, but between his fingers on your clit, his dick deep inside you, and his filthy words in your ears, a chasm opens within you once more and you find yourself barrelling towards it at alarming speed. With a few final hard thrusts and the feeling of Jaeyunâs release filling you to the brim, you come undone for the third time tonight, your throat tight and scratchy from moaning so much.
Jaeyun stills inside of you. Without sliding out, he wraps an arm around your middle and brings you closer to him, his hold tight and reassuring. His chest is flush against your back and you feel it rise and fall with each of his breaths; your breathing slowly evens out, eventually matching the rhythm of his. With his fingertips, he draws unintelligible patterns across the skin of your stomach and waist. Tiredness makes your limbs heavy like they could sink right into his mattress. You must be mere seconds away from sleep when you feel him slip out of you. You roll onto your back as he grabs a tissue from his bedside table, cleaning you up gently as he presses a kiss to your temple. âHow do you feel?â he asks. âDo you need anything? Some water? A shower?â
You rest an arm around his waist and wiggle closer to him. âJust you,â you say.
âI can give you that. Easy,â he says, the smile audible in his voice.
.
.
You wake up a few times during the night, unaccustomed to sharing a bed with someone elseâand not just anyone at that, but Jaeyun, whose warm body you find yourself shifting closer to whenever you regain half-consciousness and realize youâre not in his arms anymore. He barely rouses as you nuzzle your face in his neck, an arm coming up to circle your waist to accommodate your body against his. You wish nothing more than to stay like this forever, but unfortunately, your faithful alarm clock rings at nine a.m. and as you reach for your phone to turn it off, Jaeyunâs loose hold on you tightens.
âDonât go yet,â he mumbles, voice muffled against your hair, and his gravelly morning voice sends a shiver right down your spine.
You smile. âIâm not. I can stay ten minutes longer.â
He whines, pulls you in closer to him. Goosebumps appear where his fingers slightly dig into your skin. âThatâs not long enoughâŠâ
âI canât miss my flight, Yun.â
âSure you can,â he says casually, and as he starts to press kisses to your neck, you almost think he might be right. âYou can catch a later one. You can go home next week.â
You hum, lifting your head to grant him better access to your throat, shivering when his teeth graze your sensitive skin. âMy boss might have something to say about that.â
Rolling you onto your back, he drops his forehead on your shoulder with a dramatic sigh. âTen minutes, you said?â he asks, with a roll of his hips so small it could be seen as accidental. But with the way his erection presses into you, thick and firm, you have an inkling it was anything but.
âFifteen if you drive fast,â you say, already starting to get out-of-breath.
âThatâs plenty.â
Neither of you bothered to put on clothes again last night, so he easily slides two fingers between your folds, gathering your slick and trailing them upwards until they reach your clit. He seems satisfied with the wetness he finds there, quickly shifting to fill you up with his dick rather than his fingers. And indeed, fifteen minutes are plentyâin the time it takes for your alarm to ring again, heâs made you come twice, his thrusts deep and precise as though he has a knowledge of your body that dates back years and not a mere day. He releases inside of you with a groan.
It does suck, having to leave so quickly. You wish you could lay in bed with him for hours, take a shower so long it has negative environmental impacts, and have a late, hearty breakfast with him. Unfortunately, you have to speed through everythingâyou need to be at the airport at eleven at the latest, and having not foreseen you wouldnât be spending the night at your aunt, you didnât finish packing before the wedding. He seems to be as aware of this as you are, and although he keeps a smile on his lips at all times, you can see your sadness reflected in his eyes at the thought of having to say goodbye, so soon after finally opening up to each other.
But in a way, you find goodbye easier this time around. As you hug your aunt and thank her for letting you stay â at which she scoffs, saying this will always be as much your house as it is hers â youâre armed with the knowledge that youâre on good terms now, and that youâre not going back to another three years of near radio silence. Itâs not an empty promise that you make her when you tell her youâll be in touch.
Youâve never seen Jaeyun as talkative as on the drive to the airport. He blabbers away, filling every second of silence like his life depends on itâyou donât help him, quiet as can be out of fear of breaking into sobs in the middle of any given sentence. You remind yourself that this goodbye is only temporary, that youâll soon make plans for him to visit, but still, your eyes burn at the thought of going home to an empty apartment and falling asleep in a half-empty bed tonight. He must sense this because he eventually tells you, voice soft and vulnerable, âDonât cry, baby.â
You purse your lips to stop them from trembling, turning away from him so he canât see your frown. âI feel like I already miss you,â you say, so low you wonder if he can even hear you.
âIâll come see you soon. And Iâll text and call you so often every day that you wonât have time to miss me,â he replies, but you can hear it in his tone that he doesnât quite believe what heâs saying, only trying to reassure you, and himself, maybe.
âThatâs impossible,â you mutter. Youâre both silent for the rest of the drive, but his hand in yours is warm, and it does more to comfort you than any words could.Â
He parks at the airport drop-off area and gets your suitcase out of the trunk for you. He wanted to park where he could leave his car longer, and go into the airport with you, but you convinced him that the quicker your goodbye, the better off youâd be. You have the sinking feeling you might burst into tears at any moment, and you donât want his last image of you for the foreseeable future to be one with tears streaming down your cheeks, donât want him to needlessly worry or drive off with a weight on his heart.
He holds you in his arms, hands rubbing reassuring circles on your back. âIâll come up as soon as I can, okay?â he says. âIn less than a month, I promise. Any longer and I might explode.â
You laugh. âI donât want you to explode.â
âNo, thatâd be pretty unfortunate.â
With one final kiss to the pretty lips that youâll be longing for until you see Jaeyun again, you grab the handle of your suitcase and walk towards the entrance of the departures area. âText me when you land, yeah?â he asks.
You nod. âI will.â You just stand there looking at him for a whileâyouâre a bit too sad to appreciate the fact that this is your first openly emotional, tearful goodbye, but part of you basks in knowing the separation isnât hard for you only. âI love you, Yun.â
He smiles, a beautiful mix of sorrow and happiness that you want to commit to memory. âI love you more, angel.â
Every time you turn around, heâs still there leaning against his car, possibly overstaying his time at the drop-off, until youâve walked too far into the airport and canât see him anymore.
.
.
Itâs already dark outside when a text from Minjeong lights up Jaeyunâs phone. Just dropped her off, it says. I tried to stop her from drinking so much, but she said she was going through Jaeyun withdrawals, whatever that means. Anyways sheâs wasted good luck lol
He shakes his head. Heâd be annoyed if he wasnât so excited to see youâheâd told Minjeong to keep you outside for a bit longer after work, not get you drunk. But before he has time to text her back, his phone starts ringing in his hand. Smiling, he picks up, your voice immediately filling his ear.
âJaeyun,â you whine, extending the second vowel for too many secondsâMinjeong wasnât just throwing words around when she said you were wasted. You must be in the elevator by now. He has half a mind to come and get you, just in case youâre stumbling around and pressing the wrong floor numbers, but if Minjeong dropped you off at your building and not your apartment, then you must have some awareness left.
He hopes. Thereâs something important he wants to talk to you about, and heâd rather you were sober for it.
âHi, baby,â he says.
This is apparently the worst thing he could possibly say, sensing as you make a noise halfway between a grunt and a whine. âDonât call me baby when I already miss you this much. Weâve talked about this!â
You definitely havenât. âIâm very sorry,â he says, exaggerating his serious tone, but you donât catch his sarcasm.
âYes, you should be.â The telltale beep of your code being pressed into the keypad breaks the silence of your apartment, and Jaeyunâs heart races with excitement. âIâm coming home now, Minjeong took me to thisââ
Your next words get caught in your throat the moment you step inside your apartment and see him, a few meters away from you in your kitchen. You stay frozen in place, phone still to your ear as he crosses the distance between you, smiling so hard his cheeks ache.
âWelcome home, angel.â
Heâs glad to see you arenât in too much of a wretched state. Even in your wide-gazed surprise, your eyes are a bit clouded over from the alcohol, and you arenât standing quite straight on your feet, but the way Minjeong texted him, he half-expected to find you with vomit on the front of your shirt. He steadies you with a hand to your waist, grabs your wrist gently to bring your arm down now that heâs hung upâand right in front of you.
âYouâre real?â you ask, and when he nods, as though that was all the confirmation you needed, you throw your arms around his neck. âMy Yunie,â you exclaim, voice muffled against his sweatshirt, and he has to bite back his laughter. Even a year and a half into your relationship, thatâs a new one. You still get flustered when a pet name escapes your lips instead of his name. Maybe he should let you get drunk more often.
You suddenly lean back, cupping his face between your palms, eyes slightly narrowed as they drift over every inch of his face, like youâre trying to see whether anythingâs changed. He lets you, a small, endeared smile on his lips, glad for the opportunity to admire you in return.
You press your lips to his, a little more forcefully than you usually would, then rest your head against his chest once more. âWhat are you doing here?â you ask. âDid you know I was missing you extra lately?â
âOf course I did. I always know what youâre thinking.â
âOkay. What am I thinking right now?â
He hums, pretends to think for a little. âThat you love me and are so happy to see me!â
You gasp. âYes! Youâre so smart,â you exclaim, hugging him even tighter.Â
Eventually, he manages to get you out of your coat and shoes, and leads you to the kitchen, where your counter is covered in flour and uncooked, homemade dumplings. He only needs to make a few more until he can start frying them. The rice is already cooked, and a miso and vegetable stew simmers on your stove. You make yourself useful by circling your arms around Jaeyunâs waist, your head resting on his shoulders as you watch him fold dough around a beef galbi filling, your favorite.Â
âDo you wanna go wash up before we eat?â he asks softly, afraid that in your sensitive state, you might take his words the wrong way. But to his surprise, you oblige without a word, giving his cheek a kiss before heading to your bedroom.
When you havenât come back ten minutes later, he goes to check on you, and finds you laying on top of your sheets, feet not even on your mattress but still on your floor like you fell back sitting and just stayed there. Youâve managed to remove your makeup and let down your hair, but you apparently ran out of energy before you could change out of your work clothes. Drool pools at the corner of your open lips.Â
Jaeyunâs heart aches with happiness. Every time he looks at you, even like this â especially like this â all he can think is how badly he wants to spend the rest of his life with you. And with every passing day that you stay with him, that you tell him good morning and good night and I love you, he thinks he might have a shot at it.
He sighs, but thereâs nothing else heâd rather be doing than slipping your trousers and blouse off of your frame and finding a large t-shirt for you to sleep in, then guiding your body underneath your sheets. You wake up once, giggle at yourself, and immediately fall back asleep.
A while later, after heâs cleaned up the kitchen, had a little bit of dinner â on his own, which he knows youâll feel awful about tomorrow â and washed up for bed, he gently closes the door of the bedroom behind him, where youâre still in deep sleep.
So heâll have to wait until the morning to share his news. Itâs alrightâhe has the whole weekend to tell you heâs found the perfect house, not too far from Gimcheon or from Daegu, where your boss has already said you could be transferred. He visited it last week, and in every room, he could picture your future together so perfectly. The kitchen in which heâll make you a late breakfast on lazy Sunday mornings, the room with a beautiful view over a garden that you could turn into an office for your work-from-home days, the bedroom that he could all too well imagine a crib in. Layla could run around in the garden. You could visit your family and friends whenever you wanted. You could be in Seoul in less than two hours with the train if you ever missed it.
Youâve been talking about moving somewhere together for a while now, but heâs still nervous to bring it up. Itâs a huge step, and he can only hope you are as ready as he is to take itâand if you arenât yet, heâll gladly wait for you to be. But as he slips into bed with you, your warm body shifting into his embrace even in sleep, he doubts heâll have to wait long at all. The days of holding back are long goneâever since itâs fully gotten through to you that he wonât ever leave your side if he can help it, youâve opened up to him like never before, let him take care of you like heâs always dreamed of.
He looks down at you and your peaceful sleeping face, his initial dangling on a thin silver chain that youâve worn since you found it again while organizing your jewelry box a few weeks ago. This is enough for now. But one day, if youâll have him, heâll make you his with another piece of jewelry, and falling asleep with you in his arms wonât be a once-in-a-while occurrence anymore.
Itâs more than enough, he thinks as he presses a kiss to your forehead, and lets the soft sound of your breathing lull him into sleep. Itâs everything.
.
.
âMy wife.â
Jaeyunâs voice is a low, possessive grunt in your ear. He says those two words like they hold the most precious meaning in the world, and it makes fire rise deep inside you.
You thought the reason Jaeyun had been so antsy during your journey to Hawaii was because heâd never travelled this far. Youâd chalked up his need to have his hand in yours or resting on your thigh for the entirety of the flight to it being his first time on a long-distance plane. You easily dismissed his clinginess on the drive from the airport to your hotel as his being tired, which always made him a little needier.
But when he pressed his body to yours the moment the door of your hotel room shut behind you, you finally understood what had actually been on his mind this entire timeâthe feeling of his erection, hard and insistent on your lower stomach, left no room for interpretation.
To be fair, since getting married three days ago, in the familiarity of your backyard and surrounded by your loved ones, youâd barely gotten any alone time. Relatives of his that lived far away stayed at your house until yesterday night, and at bedtime every night, either one or both of you were too tired to initiate anything. You havenât had sex since becoming Jaeyunâs wife, and clearly, this has been weighing on your husband.
He kisses you like he has been starving for months, desperate, ravenous, crazed. His arms around you hold you in a tight embrace, your bags haphazardly discarded at your feet. Eventually, he reaches for the back of your thighs and, legs hooked around his waist, carries you to the bed youâll call yours for the next week. You hadnât expected to break it in so quickly, but you wouldnât have it any other way, not when Jaeyunâs tongue laps at your mouth like this, not when his teeth graze your bottom lip so deliciously.
âNeed to touch you so bad, my love. Can I?â he asks, voice breathy.
âYes, Yun, please.âÂ
He slips a hand below your waistband and hums in satisfaction at the wetness he finds there. âAlways so wet for me, arenât you, baby? Always ready for me to fuck you.â
The feeling of his expert fingers on your clit render you unable to reply to himâitâs not like heâs waiting for an answer, anyway. The way you throw your head back and moan his name is all the confirmation he could need.Â
Although youâd be content to go on like this, it seems as though this isnât enough for him. He quickly withdraws his fingers, swallowing your whine of protest with a kiss. Itâs unusual, the speed with which he makes his way down your body until his face is level with your core. He normally likes to take his sweet time with you, trailing kisses all over your skin before giving in to your pleas for more. You take a little pride in knowing that you donât have to begâfor once, heâs the desperate one, heâs the one who canât wait a second longer.
Itâs obscene, and obscenely hot, the way he presses his nose against the crotch of your sweatpants and inhales deeply, a guttural groan escaping his throat. He presses kisses to your inner thighs and core over your clothes before he actually slides them down your thighs, letting them pool at your knees like he doesnât have time to take them off completely. He doesnât bother with your t-shirt, either, simply snaking his hands underneath it until they reach your breasts.
âFuck, Iâve missed this pussy so much,â he mutters, admiring it like it belongs in a museum.Â
You smile. âItâs been, like, four days.â
He shakes his head. âNever going without it for that long again.â
Jaeyun dives into your core, tongue licking a long stripe up your folds before it finds your clit and settles there, alternating between licking and sucking at the sensitive bud, two of his slender fingers quickly sliding inside of you. Your hands find purchase in his hair, tugging at it when a motion of his tongue feels particularly good, hips bucking against his mouth whenever his fingers hit that particularly deep spot inside you. He moans ceaselessly into your core, the vibrations making your thighs shake around his head, as though he needed this as much as you didâif not more. You swear you hear him mutter âmy wifeâ at some point. Embarrassingly quickly, you start to feel that familiar coil of pleasure form low in your stomach, a warm, dizzying buzz spreading throughout your entire body all the way to your fingertips.
Your relief at not having to beg turns out to be short-lived. Jaeyun makes you come on his tongue a first, then a second time, as he is often wont to do. Youâre impossibly sensitive, body heavy and boneless by the third time, but he isnât satisfied. His grip on your hips is firm, and you donât have the energy to fight itânor the willingness, really. Tears stream down your face by the time your fourth orgasm hits you, at which point you canât even tell pleasure from pain anymore. You really do need a break, though, and signal this to your husband â your husband â by lifting his head from your core.
He gives you a few minutes of physical respite, but the words that he whispers against your skin as he presses feverish kisses to your throat and jaw keep you in that hazy, nebulous headspace, and in those few minutes only, you already find yourself reaching for him, cupping his erection over his sweatpants.
You wince when he enters you, overstimulation setting in solely from having him inside you, but you shake your head when he asks if you need a longer break. âWant you, Yun,â you breathe out, holding onto his biceps, nails already digging into his skin.
As he pistons his hips into yours relentlessly, you almost canât believe this is the same man who was standing before you at the altar mere days ago, the sweetest smile on his lips and tears in his pretty eyes. You guess heâs holding true to one of his vowsâhe said heâd never make you doubt how much he loves you, and right now, you canât deny that heâs fucking you like youâre the only woman for him.
You think he must be close when his thrusts speed up and his grunts get louder. And recently, thereâs been a new telltale sign that he was inching closer to his orgasm.
âGonna fill you up, angel. Gonna stuff you full of my cum and make you the prettiest mommy ever. All round and beautiful, and carrying my baby. Show the whole world who you belong to.â
He mutters these words right into your ear just as his breathing gets heavier, more ragged, and seconds later, you feel him spurting ropes of his sperm inside you. When he first started talking to you like this, you assumed it was just long-term relationship dirty talk. But a couple of weeks ago, when you told him you were almost at the end of your last tablet of birth control, he asked how you felt about not renewing your prescriptionâso not just dirty talk, you realized.
He pulls out of you but stays on top of you, catching his breath as he rests his head on your chest and you play with his hair. Eventually, he grabs your left hand, lifts it to his lips, and presses them to your ring finger, right over the silver band. âThank you for marrying me, angel,â he whispers. âYouâve made me the happiest man on Earth.â
You kiss the top of his head, basking in the pleasant warmth of his words, of his scent, of his reassuring weight as he lays on top of you. âIâm the lucky one.â
âWill you still feel lucky when I tell you weâre not leaving this room all day?â
When you lift your head to look at him, heâs wearing a devilish grin. âWhy not?â you ask.
âBecause,â he says, pressing his lips to yours, âIâm fucking the jetlag out of you.â Your body responds to him, heat already starting to swirl in your stomach as though you havenât already taken more than you could handleâyour desire for him is a bottomless well. âAnd, so that in fifteen years, we get to embarrass our kid by telling them they were conceived in Hawaii.â
Needless to say, over the next week, you spend a lot more time in your hotel room than youâd planned, often only going out around noon or coming back halfway through dinnerâwhenever Jaeyun sees that ring around your finger, he seems to need some alone time with you.
He doesn't think he'll ever stop needing alone time with you.
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permanent taglist: @zreamy @sunghoonmybeloved @lalalalawon @sd211 @w3bqrl @raikea10 @wntrnghts @moonlighthoon @4imhry @rikisly @loves0ft @iamliacamila @theboingsuckerasseater9000 @chaechae-23 @baekhyuns-lipchain @hyuckslvr @vernonburger @amorbonbon @fluerz @jakeflvrz @enhastolemyheart @kiokantalope @genoisscore71 @hoonslutt
oh my god my eyes are so puffy and swollen this means so much to me
small town jake ftw đȘđȘ stupid idiots in love ftw đȘ thank u so much for reading and reblogging and sorry for making u cry... praying u get out of the hell that are situationships soon!!!! u deserve better queen!!!!
hiiii so i just finished reading your jake fanfic that u put out recently and im in love with the way you've written it. truly it's so amazing.
i have been going through a pretty tough time recently, ive had my first real heartbreak at the hands of the boy ive loved for almost 2 years now. and the way he acted and the words he said were pretty hurtful and we never even dated.
so fanfiction has been how im coping these days and tbh theyre kinda healing me. this story of yours did too. somehow, few words that jake said or chaewon said or how the fmc acted, somehow that soothed me like a balm.
it makes me be positive and hope that there is someone out there for me as well who'll see all the sides of me, good and slightly difficult ones, and love me for it all.
thank you for writing thisđââïž
hi there, thank you so so much for taking the time to read my fic and for reblogging and sending an ask!!!!! i really appreciate it <33
i'm so sorry you're going through your first heartbreak, i know how painful those things can be, that guy sounds like a real idiot!!!! fanfiction is my #1 coping mechanism too so i totally get you lol, and its an honor that my fic was of some comfort to you âčïžđ«¶
and i hope you'll soon meet that someone who will love you through it all!!!
of all the people in the world - sjy (m)
pairing. sim jaeyun x reader
synopsis. You know you should be ecstatic about the invitation to Chaewonâs and Jaeminâs wedding in your mailbox, but you canât help the nerves gnawing away at your stomach. There are too many things youâve left unresolved after moving to Seoulâyour aunt, your friends, and most of all Sim Jaeyun, the boy youâve never let yourself love.
genre. childhood/high school friends that grow apart to lovers, angsty fluff, small town au, mutual pining bc they're idiots, this is kind of like hometown but different i promise, SMUT MDNI !!!!
warnings. characters are aged up (late 20s), reader is a little clueless but she's doing her best okay, family issues and family member death, jake is exclusively referred to as jaeyun deal with it
word count. 35.3k
author's note. listen to the playlist here + as always a big thank you to @zreamy for beta reading this and freaking out over jaeyun!!! happy very very late birthday can't wait to name my firstborn child after you... Zreamy Lee what a beautiful name... im sure anton will be stoked when i let him know!
Most of the time When he looks at me I change my mind And I donât think he even cares a bit How much I have to give Just as long as Iâm awake To love him every day [...] Of all the people in the world [He] says my name the best Most of the Time, Jackie Evans
From his seat on the couch, Jaeyun stares at the golden inflated balloons spelling out âCongratulations, Y/N!â on the wall of your auntâs living room. The more he stares, the more the capital letters seem to be mocking him.Â
He allows himself one last moment of selfishness, during which he thinks the last thing he wants to do, today or ever, is to congratulate you on getting your one-way ticket out of this town. He downs his fruit punch and winces at the overly sweet, artificial taste, then marches towards the crowd around you, trying on different smiles that might seem convincing. None of them fit.
August is nearing its end already. Summer has always felt lazy, molasses-slow, pleasantly neverending to Jaeyunâthis year, it blinked by him. He closed his eyes as the schoolbell rang for their last ever period; he opens them again and he is here. Wasnât prom just yesterday? Graduation? Did he realize that the last bonfire party was just that, the last?Â
Your birthday isnât for another week, but youâre leaving tomorrow. Everyone huddles around you, eagerly awaiting your reaction as you open gifts. If it wasnât for the presents and the chocolate fudge cake waiting in the fridge, this wouldnât be a birthday party so much as a going-away party. The dreadful words on your wall make that clear: everyone here knows youâre much happier about leaving than about turning eighteen. You said so yourself a few days earlier, and Jaeyun tried his hardest not to burst into tears.
âI can celebrate my birthday every year. Iâll only get accepted into the program of my dreams once.âÂ
You were sitting, just the two of you, atop one of the hills that overlooked your town. Jaeyun knew that when you looked out, you already saw your past, while he could only see his whole life, past, present and future indistinguishable from each other, spreading out for miles and miles and miles.Â
Up until a few months ago, when Jaeyun looked at you, he could only see his whole life. But ever since you received your acceptance letter, he hasnât been so sure. He watched as you celebrated leaving him behind, stayed silent as you raved about your plans for the future. Plans he wasnât a part of. These past months have been the only time seeing you smile made him sad.
He stays at the back of the small crowd, close enough to make out your presents as you unwrap them but not quite joining in. Hands in his back pockets, he wears his best neutral expressionäžif he canât fake a smile, he can at least try and not look so depressed. As your friend, he owes you that much. He might hate every moment of this but heâd feel even worse, knowing he was raining on your parade.
You seem to like your gifts. After spending your teenage years together, your friends know what you like. Scented candles, cute notebooks that youâll probably keep preciously rather than actually use, a personalized calendar for the upcoming school year with a different picture of you and your loved ones every month. Jaeyun shows up a few times in group pictures; itâs just the two of you in April, which is too far away for his liking. Far away enough for you to have forgotten all about him.
As you flip through the calendar, despite your friendsâ protest for the pictures to be a surprise each month, itâs on April that you linger the most. Thereâs a small smile on your face, a sad smile. Your fingers play with the pendant on your necklace, Jaeyunâs gift that he gave you before everyone else even arrived. It was too intimate a gift for him to hand it to you in front of all your friends. He almost died of embarrassment when your eyebrows rose at the sight of the delicate, silver chain, of the letter âJâ hanging off it, and it was just the two of you; if anyone else had been in the room, his shyness wouldâve gotten the best of him, and the jewelry box wouldâve stayed safely tucked in his coat pocket.
You lift your gaze towards him. He didnât even know youâd noticed him joining everyone, and yet your eyes found him immediately. He has no idea what on Earth is going through your head. Are you finally realizing that the days of seeing each other every single day are over? Are you finally figuring him out, how it isnât only friendship that has kept him by your side all these years, but the feeling deep in his gut that he gets whenever he thinks of you?
Do you have that feeling, too?
Your eyes shine. For a second, Jaeyun thinks you might start to cry. Then someone, Miji or Yurim, who knows, says that sheâs on the next page. Your gaze falls back to the calendar in your hands. Your fingers let go of your necklace, and you flip Jaeyunâs page.
.
.
A tight ball of dread has been sitting in your stomach ever since you got that letter in the mail. Youâve tried to rationalize it many ways: it feels weird to receive a wedding invitation, the first from someone out of your childhood group of friends. Even more so when that someone is the girl you called your best friend for all of your teenage years, but you arenât sure you deserve that title anymore. Even more so when youâre 28 and couldnât be further from drafting a wedding invitation yourself.
You know what it really is: itâs the address for the reception, the name of a place in which you havenât set foot in years blinking innocently up at you. Itâs the second piece of paper inside the envelope, a handwritten note asking you to come a few days earlier so that all of you âcan gather just like the good old times.â
Iâm getting married, Y/N. Iâm turning into a proper adult. I just want one last time of feeling like a sixteen year old, and I canât have that without you here. Say youâll be there, pretty please? XX
You remember sighing after reading that note, your brain already coming up with excuses to justify your future absence, fully aware that you wouldnât miss this wedding for the world.Â
Damn Chaewon, you thought then, and still regularly think now. Damn her and her emotional manipulation, as youâve decided to view it, forcing you to make that dreaded trip homeânot that you really consider that place home anymore.
It was a wonder that you and Chaewon were such good friends back then, good enough to still keep in touch throughout your adult lives. Just like every baby in the family, she was born in the upstairs bedroom of their home, the mayorâs daughter, known and loved by everyone in town, and had always adored her small-town life. You showed up out of nowhere at age fourteen, initially making no effort to befriend anyone, annoyed by the whispers that followed you. You wanted to leave as soon as you arrived, and you eventually did; although along the way, Chaewonâs kind-heartedness melted even your ice walls, and you gradually opened the gates to let the other kids in.
For almost a decade, youâve been working to close those gates again. You were almost there; they were barely agape, there was just that tiny thread that kept an infinitesimal part of you tethered to that place, and you were sure it was close to snapping. Chaewon and her damn wedding invitation pushed the gates back open, and it took you all your strength to not look back and walk through again.
You left something there, and you arenât sure youâre ready to retrieve it.Â
The ball of dread, as though tethered to a chain around your ankle, wonât stop following you. Up until now, you hadnât noticed how much everything around you seemed to revolve around romance. The TV you watched. The content on your phone. Couples in the street. Even your work was full of it. Youâre the editor for the Culture and Media segment of Limelight Monthly, the magazine you work at, not Relationships or even Lifestyle, and yet, in the weeks after receiving the invitation, it felt like all your staff could write about were the latest romance novels everyone raved about online, the best reality TV shows about exes getting back together or forever-singles searching for their first love, and which destinations were the most romantic for couples to travel to this summer.Â
You do a good job hiding it at first. Although youâre not as focused as you usually are reading your staffâs articles to greenlight them for publication, two years of doing this job means no typos or clunky sentences pass you by. You make sure to greet everyone with your usual cheer, and you donât miss any Thursday evening afterwork drinks, a tradition of your teamâs. Most of the time, youâre able to relegate Chaewonâs wedding and everything it entails to the back of your mind, but itâll come back up at random moments. Youâll be filling the kettle for tea in the communal kitchen when a certain face will fill the forefront of your thoughts; your heart will start beating uncontrollably, and before you know it, water will be overflowing from the kettle and onto your hands. Youâll stare at the awfully familiar name of a book character in one of your coworkersâ reviews and only snap out of it once someoneâs called your name three times in a row, like being summoned out of a trance.Â
These moments are few and far between, but they add up. When your coworkers ask you whether everythingâs okay, at first, itâs lighthearted, like theyâre just curious about what got you so lost in your thoughts. Slowly, eyebrows start to furrow, concern starts creeping in their eyes and voice. Youâre one zone-out away from an intervention. A few days ago, you overheard Juhee and Haewon, your teamâs two most recent recruits, whispering in the break room about their concern for your well-being: âI think she goes home and just, I donât know, has takeaway and white wine in front of her TV.â
Theyâre wrong about the takeaway. Youâre actually a pretty decent cook. The rest of their sentiment, however⊠Well.
It takes Minjeong, your favorite coworker-turned-friend, a couple of weeks before she decides to take matters into her own hands. One Tuesday after work, she waits for you outside the buildingâs main entrance, and as soon as you step outside, grabs your wrist and drags you to the subway station thatâll lead both of you to her apartment. âIâm making you chicken alfredo and youâre telling me what the hell is wrong with you,â she says before you can protest.
You wrench your wrist out of her grasp, shrug on the bag strap that had fallen off your shoulder with a discontented huff, and follow her anyway. âFine, but Iâm only coming for the chicken alfredo.â
âIâll tie you down to the chair until you speak.â
âKinky.â
She halts dead in her tracks in the middle of the busy street, ignoring the nasty stares from the other homebound office workers heading for the station. She turns to face you, wearing a severe expression. âIâve known you for five years, and youâve never cried in front of me. Not even when we watched Titanic.â
Nonplussed, you reply, âI already knew how it ended.â
âThatâs not the point. Itâs usually impossible to get a read on you, so when not one or two, but three people come up to me and ask whether youâre alright, that means somethingâs seriously wrong. Iâd be a terrible friend if I didnât try to find out what that was.â
You hesitate. Youâre embarrassed that youâve been so obvious, and that youâre even this upset in the first place. Who on Earth has such a hard time being happy about her childhood best friendâs upcoming wedding? Your first reaction shouldâve been to call Chaewon and rave with her and ask for all the details. You should be sending her pictures of potential dresses and asking her which one fits her color palette the best. You shouldnât be needing the aforementioned intervention.
It isnât like you have to follow Minjeong and air your dirty laundry out to her. If it came to it, your couple inches over her might help you win a physical fight. But something about her sincere concern makes you foldâhow long has it been since you let someone worry about you like this? Long enough that you forgot how nice it feels, apparently.
She must sense a shift in your demeanor, because she relaxes. âLetâs go,â she says, and this time, she doesnât need to drag you with her.
From the moment you met Minjeong, you knew she came from money. It wasnât that she flaunted it or appeared out-of-touch with reality; she just had a way of moving through the world with the air of confidence of someone who knew they belonged, who was used to getting what they wanted. It also helped that she often came to work with a new designer bag and always had flawless hair and nails.
It intimidated you at first, the way she seemed to have worked in this office her whole life, whereas it took you weeks before you stopped being so eager to please and be overly polite with everyone. But it quickly became clear that although you found her infinitely cool, she wasnât cold. You didnât work for the same segment, but you spent your lunch breaks together, getting scolded by your respective bosses more than once for coming back half-an-hour late; you would often be so busy talking, you wouldnât keep track of the time.
But it wasnât until you stepped inside her apartment for the first time that you realized just how wealthy she, or her family, was. She lived in one of the fanciest neighborhoods of town, in an apartment that you could hardly afford now as an editor, let alone when you were just starting out at the magazineâyet sheâd been living there since graduating from university. Itâs on the top floor of a brand new apartment complex and composed of three bedrooms and two bathrooms, a ridiculously large open plan kitchen and living room, and a balcony with possibly the best view over the city youâve ever seen. Her furniture looked and felt expensive, and it made you dizzy trying to figure out how much the artwork that hung on her walls and decorated her shelves mustâve cost. To this day, you havenât been brave enough to ask.
When you step inside her apartment today, she wastes no time before ordering you to sit at the kitchen island. You watch as she grabs a bottle of wine from the fridge, hesitates, then puts it back. Instead, she grabs a bottle of gin and an unopened one of tonic from a cupboard, two glasses and some ice from the freezer. You smile and sit silently as she expertly pours two drinks. âHere,â she says, sliding a glass towards yours. âI thought you might want something stronger.â
âShould I be worried you just have this on hand?â you tease.
She rolls her eyes. âItâs for emergencies like these, obviously.â You clink your glasses and take a wonderful sip. Then, she looks you straight in the eyes and says, âSo, tell me whatâs been on your mind.â
So you do.
You tell her about the wedding invitation and what it entails: travelling back to the town you used to live in, having to face everyone you left behind there. You keep things vague. You donât name names, or dump your entire backstory on her; you simply tell her you didnât have the best relationship with your aunt when you left, and phone calls between the two of you have been few and far between in the time youâve moved away. And that this goes for a few other people from home, namely one other person.
Of course, this isnât enough for Minjeong. She prods, and prods, and prods, until you finally give in. With a sigh and a heavy gulp of your wine, you ask, âWhere do you even want me to start?â
She smiles. âFrom the beginning.â
You stare each other off for a few beats. Even as your instincts tell you to keep your mouth shut, a small voice at the back of your mind says, For once, why not?
âI donât⊠talk about this,â you say, voice shaky.
Worry knots Minjeongâs eyebrows together. âIs it that bad?â
âItâs not that itâs bad,â you reply quickly to reassure her. âI just donât like even thinking about it. So talking about it⊠Well, that forces me to think about it, doesnât it?â
âListen,â Minjeong says, walking over to your side of the island, resting her hand over yours. âIf you really donât want to talk about it, I wonât force you. But from what I can tell, itâd do you some good.â She takes a deep breath, then speaks all in one go. âAlso Iâm dying to know. Iâm not supposed to tell you this but everyone at the office has a theory about where you come from because you never talk about it.â
When you gasp, she shakes her head and squeezes your hand. âI promise everything said here will stay here. Iâd derive much more satisfaction from being the only one knowing about your past than blabbing about it to everyone anyway.â
For some reason, this works on you. Maybe Minjeong feels trustworthy enough. Or maybe you know sheâs right, you know itâll do you good to speak about it, to release some of the burden.
âOkay.â
You really do start from the beginning, and work your way up from there. Why you had to move to Gimcheon without your parents. Why it was difficult living with your aunt, and why you could hardly make friends at first. Why it was your sole goal in life to move back to Seoul at eighteen, and why with every passing year, the thought of leaving became harder and harder. Why you did it anyway.Â
What it cost you.
It feels strange to speak so much at once, and about yourself. Minjeong is plating dinner as youâre wrapping your story up. She has so many questions, it takes you almost an hour to finish your food. But you find yourself readily answering every one of them; youâve gone this far already, so you might as well give her the fullest picture you can.
Oddly enough, itâs perhaps her easiest question that has you hesitating the most. Itâs the end of the night, and youâre surprised your eyes have stayed dry throughout it; but when she asks you this, your nose starts to prickle.
âWhatâs this guyâs name, anyway? Weâve talked so much about him, and youâve only referred to him as your friend.â
You canât help but smile even as the word tugs sharply on your heartstrings.Â
âJaeyun.â
.
.
As the date of the wedding approaches, the tight knot of nerves in your stomach grows bigger. The evening before your flight, it takes you hours to fall asleep, your packed suitcase next to your bed startling you every time you lay eyes on it. You sleep fitfully for three hours, then a never-ending loop of worst-case scenarios plays in your head as you go through the motions of getting yourself ready and to the airport. An older woman sits next to you on the plane; anxiety must be emanating from you like a bad odor for her to rest a kind hand on your shoulder and tell you that domestic flights like these are very safe, that sheâs flown many times and that nothing badâs ever happened. You donât have it in you to tell her, a total albeit nice stranger, that itâs not the journey thatâs worrying you so much, but the destination.
Stepping inside the airport at Daegu feels surreal. The few times youâve traveled between Seoul and Gimcheon, you droveâbut Chaewon forced you to fly down, saying you couldnât just get in your car and leave if you suddenly felt like it. You didnât tell her you could almost just as easily get a same-day flight, if it really came down to it.
You hope it wonât.
The airport is so relatively unbusy, so it doesnât take you too long before you arrive at the parking lot, eyes searching for your aunt and her green little car that sheâs always driven and that has somehow yet to break down.Â
But itâs another familiar face that your eyes land on.Â
The sight feels like a punch to the gut. For a few seconds, you swear you stop breathing, the sound of your heartbeat so loud in your ears that it cuts off all other noise around you, of planes taking off, people reuniting, car doors slamming shut.
You werenât supposed to see him so soon. You were supposed to meet your aunt, go through a slightly awkward car ride, maybe have your first adult conversation with her now that you werenât, or at least less of, an angsty teen. You were then supposed to get ready, both mentally and physically, for seeing all of your friends at once again, for seeing him. Who was standing in front of his car, staring at you with a small smile that kept breaking your heart over and over again, clearly here to pick you up.
He lets you stare back. Lets you stand there, mouth agape in shock, fingers wrapped so tight around the handle of your suitcase that your nails dig into the skin of your palm. You werenât supposed to see him so soon. You didnât get enough time to prepare, to adjust to being here, and now youâre standing there dumbly like youâve just seen a ghost.
In a way, you have.
You regain part of your senses. When you try to say his name, your voice is hoarse, and it comes out as a whisper, barely audible even to you. So you clear your throat, try a second time.
âJaeyun.â
The name feels clumsy on your tongue, like a foreign language you once knew but lost due to lack of practice. And yet, when he smiles and says your name back to you, it sounds so right, like no one else is as deserving of saying it as he is.
âHi, Y/N.â
Your feet move of their own accord as they step towards him; he mirrors you, and in mere seconds youâre face-to-face with him, and when he reaches out you think he might hug you but all he does is take your suitcase from you and roll it to the trunk of his car. A sigh escapes your lips, but youâre unsure whether it's one of disappointment or of relief.
âThere was an emergency at the hospital, so Auntie asked me to pick you up. I hope itâs okay with you,â he explains. You watch, transfixed, as he closes the trunk, then walks over to the passenger side, opening the door and motioning for you to go in.
You nod. âYeah, itâs okay. Thank you.â
Instead of walking right away to his side of the car, he stays there, one hand on top of the door as you take a seat and fasten your seatbelt. âItâs no worries,â he says finally before gently shutting your door.
There are so many things to think about. Usually, youâd get hung up over the fact that even on the day of your coming back home for the first time in years, your aunt still prioritizes her job over you, or over the fact that Jaeyun still calls her Auntie, despite the resolve youâve had since you were fourteen of calling her by her first name, and her first name only.
Now, as the boy â the man â beside you starts the car, hands steady compared to your trembling ones, a peaceful expression on his face, all you can think about is the improbability of it all, of being back here, of being next to Jaeyun of all people and not knowing what to say to him. If someone had told you ten years ago, that one day a reunion with Jaeyun would mean silence and cramp-inducing nerves, you would have either laughed them off, or been scared into never leaving at all.Â
Your mind conjures an infinite list of conversation starters, but none of them seem good enough. Theyâre all too relaxed, too intense, too inappropriate for a situation like this. Like a fish out of water, you keep opening your mouth to say something, only to close it when you decide not to.Â
Jaeyun being this quiet only makes things worse. If thereâs one thing about him, itâs that heâs always talking like he canât get the words out fast enoughâbut maybe itâs been too long for you to speak with any authority about what Sim Jaeyun is like. You know youâve changed a lot in ten yearsâhow can you expect him to be the same boy you left? You canât even tell whether heâs just calmer now or if heâs decided to torture you by silence.Â
As he keeps his eyes on the road ahead of him, you risk furtive glances, trying to assess how much about him mightâve changed. Thereâs still something of the boy who used to split clementines with you in the winter, who would whisper the answers to you when you got called on in class and blanked. Heâs grown into his features, heâs learned how to style his hair, but his kind smile and eyes havenât changed in the slightest. You still find yourself inexplicably drawn to everything about him, even the small cut on his jawline, probably from shavingâyour fingers crave to feel it, this sign of a private life that you havenât been privy to for years. That you havenât been a part of.
Minutes pass by like eternity. Heâs only pulling out of the parking lot and joining the freeway and youâre already wondering how youâll survive the twenty-minute car ride to your auntâs. Thankfully, Jaeyun eventually puts an end to your agony.Â
âThereâs so much I want to tell you that I donât know where to start.â His voice is low, infused with a kind of timidity youâve rarely heard from him. It seems to reflect your feelings exactly, and youâre so relieved you could cry.Â
A small chuckle escapes your throat. âMe too,â you say, glancing at him briefly, avoiding his gaze by the fraction of a second. Itâs hard enough being in an enclosed space with him; eye contact isnât an option right now. Every time his eyes flick over to you, the side of your face heats up so much you think it might melt right off.
âHowâhow are you?â he asks.
Youâre not sure whether he means right now, or in generalâbut you donât really feel like examining your feelings about being back here more than you already have, and especially not in front of Jaeyun, so you go for the second meaning.
âGood,â you say. âEverythingâs going well at work. And Iâve got a few really great friends. What about you?â
A few beats pass without his answerâin the corner of your eye, you see his head swivel back-and-forth between the road and your face. âWhat, thatâs it?â he finally says with a small, disbelieving chuckle. âThe last time I saw you was three years ago. Surely you have more to say than that.â He doesnât sound angry, just genuinely eager to get more information out of you. But his words make you angry at yourself, because they remind you that itâs your fault you know so little about each otherâs lives now. Itâs not for his lack of trying, and you both know thatâsince you left ten years ago, his unwavering kindness and lack of resentment towards you has surprised you every time youâve seen him again.Â
âI donât know, nothingâs really happened. I was promoted pretty recentlyââ
âOkay, thatâs definitely not nothing. Congratulations, Y/N. You deserve it.â
Theyâre words youâve heard a hundred times before, but coming from him, they sound so heartfelt, like he truly is proud and happy for you, that you canât help but soften at them. Smiling, you say, âYouâve never seen me at work. Maybe I slack off all day and hand in everything late.â
âIâve seen you in high school, and thatâs enough to know youâd rather pull out your hair strand by strand than hand in anything a minute late.â
You laugh, and when he turns his head to look at you, this time, you mirror him. He can only keep his eyes off the road for so long, but a second is all you need. Your gazes meet, and heâs wearing one of your favorite smiles of his, the one that makes you feel like heâs really glad to see you again, and a weight is suddenly taken off your shoulders.
Maybe this wonât be so bad after all.
Thankfully, the remainder of the car ride is much less awkward than its first few minutes.You find Jaeyun to be as talkative as ever, not shy in the slightest to tell you about everything going on in his life, from the arguments he gets into with his colleagues â which happen to mostly be members of his family â to the hikes heâs been going on more frequently now that heâs adopted a dog, a Border Collie he says you have to meet.Â
Your nerves are appeased. The last time you saw Jaeyun three years ago, it was for his grandmotherâs funeral. She was the main reason heâd stayed hereâback in high school, heâd had vague plans of moving to Seoul after graduating from university in Daegu. But when she got sick, with his brother abroad and his parents working hard to afford the hospital bills, he decided there should be someone to keep her company and take care of her, and that someone would be him. You could count on one hand the number of times youâd been back, and when she passed was one of them. He tried to keep a brave front, smiling as he greeted and thanked everyone for coming, but you could see right through the facade, although itâd been a long time since you could call yourself a close friend of his.
You only stayed three days. The night before you went back to Seoul, you went over to his apartment to make him dinner. In front of you, he let it all outâheâd always cried easily, but never like this. You spent so much time comforting him and offering him your shoulder that in the end, you could only make him a bowl of pasta with tomato sauce that he barely ate half of. You knew only too well what sort of pain he was going through. While your brain has wiped most of your memories of the events soon following your parentsâ deaths, you remember the hurt that lasted months, years, that still comes back now from time to time, when you least expect it. It was partly thanks to Jaeyunâs friendship that your grief was easier to overcomeâas you got to know him and your new classmates, he took your mind off of things little by little, until one afternoon, you came home from school and realized you hadnât felt suddenly sad or irrationally angry the entire day.
The moment you left him that night, his cheeks tear-stained and his eyebrows furrowed even in sleep, you made a promise to yourself that youâd be there for him at twenty-five as he was for you at fourteen, despite the distance that separated you. You texted him everyday, called three times in a row if he didnât answer, made sure your mutual friends checked up on him often.Â
But Jaeyun was, is strong and he had amazing people surrounding him, people heâs known his entire life and that have his back. He was back on his feet soon, sooner than you expected, for how close he was to his grandmother. Because of, or thanks to that, when you felt like he didnât need you to look after him anymore, you only felt a little guilty for pulling away. More accurately, the guilt ate relentlessly at you, but you had excuses to make yourself feel better. His dad made all his favorite dishes. Jaemin took him out fishing. A neighbor of his had a dog who gave birth, and he adopted one of the pups. With or without you, he was going to be fine.
You didnât mind looking after him. But as soon as you felt like you were relying on him, you panicked. And you were starting to look forward to your weekly calls far too much for your liking. So you reached out less often. It was a busy time at work â when wasnât it, after all? â and you buried yourself in it so that when you told him you were too busy to call or to head back for the weekend, you werenât lying.
Things went back to the way they were for the seven previous years. You were as relieved as you were heartbroken.
You look at him now, listening to his lively rants with a smile on your face, thinking how glad you are it all turned out okay. The sadness of being apart from him, the longing of missing him, youâd do it all again if it meant heâd be laughing like this in the end.
Parked in front of your auntâs house, Jaeyun turns off the ignition and turns to you. âDo you want me to come in with you?â he asks.
How easily you fall back into your old ways. Twenty minutes with him and you feel like a teenager again, annoyed with him for being so nice, so unrelentingly nice, annoyed at your stupid heart for beating up a storm in your chest every time he so much as smiles at you. You want desperately to say yes. To have someone to lean on as you walk into the house that contains so many bad memoriesâfights with your aunt followed by silence, the feeling of loneliness that pervaded your teenage years and that you havenât quite managed to shake off. Itâd be so nice to have Jaeyun there with youâand judging from the concern on his face, he seems to know how you feel.
But you canât let him, because you canât let yourself need him. Not again. Not when you already know how it ends.
You smile and shake your head, ignoring the disappointment that flashes across his features. âItâs okay. I donât wanna take up more of your time.â He looks like heâs going to say something, so you quickly add, already opening the passenger door, âIâll see you later for the reunion, yeah? Thank you for the ride, Yun.â
With a sigh, he lets go of whatever it was he wanted to say. âOf course. Anytime.â
He gets out of the car even though you tell him not to, and helps you with your suitcase, which really isnât that heavy. You can tell that your declining his offer has dampened his enthusiasm somewhat, and yet, he waits until youâre at the front door, one hand on the handle, the other waving him goodbye, to drive away. As though he wanted to keep an eye on you for as long as he couldâand so do you. You watch his car get smaller until it disappears around a corner. Then, inhaling and exhaling deeply, you turn the key you havenât used in years inside the keyhole and push the door open.
The first thing you notice is the unchanging smell of the house. Like the cleaning product your aunt uses, and a slight stale odor of food, because she always forgets to crack open a window or turn on the oven fan when she cooks. Plus a scent specific to the house that reminds you of your aunt, of the clothes she wears, of the blanket she covers herself with while she watches reality TV after particularly long shifts.
Gently closing the door behind you, you stand in the entrance for a while, letting yourself take the time you need to get used to this place again. Youâre glad your aunt isnât home to usher you in and pretend sheâs happier to see you than she is, or that you didnât let Jaeyun accompany you. You donât want anyone, least of all him, to witness you looking around the house like itâs the first time you step foot in it.
Everything is the same as ever. Same furniture, same photos in the frames, same wallpaper, which make the few novelties even more striking. A plant in the corner of the living room, a new, more modern kettle in the kitchen. The black-and-white, low quality scan of your first ever article printed in Limelight is still displayed on the fridge, held up by the Brisbane magnet seventeen-year-old Jaeyun gifted you after he came back from visiting his family there.Â
You make your way upstairs slowly, holding onto the wooden rail for support, more emotional than physical. Your bedroom is a time capsule of your time in Gimcheon, with the same plain purple bedsheets your aunt bought before you arrived, the same posters of the boybands fifteen-year-old you obsessed over on your walls, the same fantasy series you used to devour during summer break on your shelves. You canât help but crack a smile at the sight of it all. In all the times youâve come back to this house, youâve never had it in you to change anything about this room. You want to keep it preciously, as if changing anything about it would change the memories associated with it, both good and bad.
Losing both of your parents at once had made you anything but an insouciant teenager. You were overly serious and reserved, grief forcing you to grow up far before any kid should have to. And yet, standing in this room, you remember the fleeting moments during which your biggest worries were a pimple on your chin or a test in a subject you didnât like.Â
For all your grievances against your aunt, you wouldâve turned into a much different person if she hadnât taken you in back then. Your dadâs family lived in another country, and you knew from conversations with your aunt that she and your mother didnât have the best relationship with their parents. Their brother had three kids of his own, whereas your aunt had none; it only made sense for her to welcome you into her house. When you were mad at her, you told yourself it was only her moral and legal obligation to take care of you as your closest relative, but when you were feeling more generous â which, for fifteen-year-old you, could be rare â you realized that having a comfortable room to yourself and cupboards always stocked with your favorite snacks was something to be grateful for.Â
And there were the friends you made here, whose pictures fill five entire photo albums. They made everything more tolerable, and even fun, when you allowed it to be. Of course, you would have never told them that, back thenâyou liked your cold exterior and the way they saw right through it.Â
Setting down your suitcase by your bed, you decide to go through the photo albums you assiduously filled back in high school instead of putting your things away. Itâs a better way to settle in and get yourself readyâyour nerves dissipate as you flip the pages, bright pictures blink up at you, of your friends at each othersâ houses, at the park on weekends, at the corner store after school. Youâre not in many of the pictures, usually hidden behind the camera, exaggeratedly frowning when Jaeyun managed to pry it from your hands and forced you in the frame.
He never heeded your protests when he wanted to swap places so you could be in the pictures you so often took. You remember the puppy eyes heâd make at you, which had no business being so effective, and the way heâd rest his larger hands on yours on the camera. Too unaccustomed to the feeling of your heartbeat speeding up, you would quickly hand it over to him then, turning away from him so he wouldnât see the obvious effect his touch had on you. It didnât help that heâd always show you the photo afterwards, pointing at you on the small screen, grinning as he said, âSee? You look pretty,â even though fear of being unphotogenic wasnât the reason you didnât like your picture to be taken.
Soon, your anxiety at seeing your friends and ex-classmates, after so long of making yourself unavailable to them, is almost entirely gone, replaced by excitement. There remains a pang of shame, especially at the thought of seeing Chaewon. How long had it been since youâd called her when you received that wedding invitation? Like Jaeyun, you know she wonât even be really mad, and that makes it worseâshe might make a light-hearted quip about it, but itâs as though theyâre scared that lecturing you about being MIA might only push you away further.
You tell yourself thereâs nothing to be scared about. The people youâll see tonight are but older versions of the people smiling at the camera, at you, in your photo albums.Â
You flip to a picture of you and Jaeyun taken without your knowledge, by Yunjin, if you remember correctly. Both of you sport wide smiles, the neon lights of the arcade game you were playing reflecting on your faces. It was his phoneâs home screen for ages.
Youâre so immersed in this trip down memory lane that you lose track of timeâwhen the front door opens and your aunt calls out your name, two hours have passed already. Pushing your awkwardness to the side, you let her hug you and repeat her words back to her when she tells you she missed you. You did miss her, but you only realize it once the familiar scent of her hair. Sheâs a creature of habitâshe still uses the shampoo she used when you first moved here at fourteen.Â
She was only twenty-six back then, younger than you are now. You donât know if you could deal with a temperamental, grieving teenager while youâd just lost your sister yourself.Â
âHow was the trip down? Iâm sorry I couldnât come and get you at the airport. I sent Jake instead, I figured you wouldnât mind if it was him,â she rattles, already filling the kettle for tea. This is so like her, saying a million things at once, always busying herself with something. You know that in an hour, when you leave for Chaewonâs house, sheâll settle herself on the couch and wonât leave it for the remainder of the evening, drained from her shift at the hospital.Â
âIt was fine, I didnât have any problems with my flight,â you reply, taking the knife from her hands and taking over the apple-cutting. âThere was an emergency at work?â
She sighs. âYeah, you know how weâre so understaffed in the summer. Some teenagers were messing around in a house under construction, and fell through a floor that wasnât done. No big injuries, but they needed an extra person to deal with parents and paperwork. At least I got to see these little shits get the talking-to of their life,â she says, making you laugh. She reaches for something in the cupboard, pulls out a packet of your favorite chocolate-flavored snacks from back then. âI got you these, if you want.â
âWow, I havenât eaten these in ages,â you say, chuckling at the familiar cartoon turtle on the bag.
âDo you not like them anymore?â
âNo, no, I do,â you say quickly to make your auntâs worried expression go away. âI just canât eat a bag in one sitting like I used to anymore, and they go stale too soon.â
She chuckles. âThatâs being an adult for you. I got a stomachache from a can of Coke the other day. Just one.â
You have time to spare before you need to start getting ready for Chaewonâs, so you sit at the dinner table together and catch up. The conversation floats somewhat on the surface of things, more about what youâve been doing than how youâve been doing. Youâre overly polite, keeping a distance for her sake more than your own, unsure how happy she really is to have you hereâand you have the feeling she thinks the same of you. The memory of your last fight hangs heavy in the air between you two, unspoken but tangible.
Itâs been easier talking to her since you moved away than it ever was when you lived here. You guess distance really does make the heart grow fonder, more willing to forgive and make amendsâthat, and growing up. Even after your fight, which you quickly understood had only happened because you let your emotions get the best of you after seeing Jaeyun in such a dishevelled state from losing his grandmother, you can have a normal conversation like this. Itâs a far cry from the silence that could stretch on for days when you were in high school.
Like with most dreaded things, you belatedly realize how much time you wasted stressing out about coming home, when there was nothing to worry about. Your mind had made up all sorts of scenarios, like your aunt would start yelling at you the moment you came through the door, rehashing your argument, or would barely give you the time of day during your entire stay. Itâs as though you forgot she was always the one who knocked on your door with a slice of takeaway pizza or a piece of buttered toast when you were being moody and wouldnât come down to eat. Who took you out for ice cream when she felt bad for being so caught up in work youâd hardly seen her all week. Who recorded your Saturday evening dramas on the TV while you were over at a friendâs house.
Youâve still got some talking to do, but it might not be as hard as you thought it would.
Fresh out of the shower, youâre changing into a nicer outfit and putting on light makeup when a text from Jaeyun lights up your phone. Heâs asking if you want a ride from him, which you declineâyour auntâs house is out of his way and itâs only a ten-minute bike ride for you, which you find yourself quite excited to go on, for purely nostalgic reasons.
Ok :) Iâll see you later, he texts back, and your stomach twists with both apprehension and giddiness. Having him there will make things so much easier, and yet the thought of spending prolonged time in his vicinity makes you unreasonably nervous.
Itâs just Jaeyun, you tell yourself, the guy who drooled on his textbook when he fell asleep in class. Who never got mad unless, in true soccer player fashion, felt another player had committed an unforgivable offense against him. Who insisted on watching horror movies then spent them with his face behind his hands.
You catch yourself smiling in the mirror and shake your head.
It really does feel like youâve been transported back to ten years ago as you wish your aunt a good evening and hop onto your bike, still in its same spot, resting against the side of the house, then ride down the streets youâll always know by heart. Gimcheon is at its prettiest during this time of year, the trees plump, their leaves dark green, the flowers bright. The summer evening breeze is warm on your skin, and the sun, low in the sky, casts a beautiful golden light on everything around you.
Itâs not long before you reach Chaewonâs houseâitâs still amazing to you how you can stand in front of it and say, yes, my friend owns this house. It actually belongs to herâand her fiancĂ©, Jaemin, of course. You donât know of a single person your age in Seoul who owns their apartment, except for Minjeong, but sheâs just exceptionally well-off. Itâs a nice, traditional house, with a wooden porch around the front where you know Chaewon, a Korean Nara Smith if youâve ever met one, will make gochujang and soy sauce from scratch once sheâs less busy with work and wedding preparations.Â
The gate is ajar, so you slide it further and let yourself in, calling out your friendâs name tentatively. Immediately you hear footsteps from inside the house, Chaewon squealing your name before she comes barrelling through the door and running towards you. She practically flings herself at you, and you stumble back a few steps as you catch her, laughing at her enthusiasm.
âUgh, Iâm so happy youâre finally here!â she exclaims, squashing the side of her face onto yours.
âIâm happy to be here, too,â you reply, chuckling. âThank you for the heartfelt welcome.â
Hands on your shoulders, she leans back, assesses you head-to-toe. You follow her gaze, wondering if the mid-thigh sundress you chose was a good decision. Is it too much cleavage? At your all-female workplace, there is no such thing as too much cleavage. âYou look good.â
âOkay, no need to sound so surprised.â
âIâm not!â she says, laughing. âOkay, a little bit, Iâm sorry. I thought youâd look all dishevelled like those busy city girls in the movies. Running around, getting coffee, whatever it is city people do. Thatâs what you look like when you FaceTime me after work.â
You sigh. âThatâs great to hear, Chae, thanks.â
âNo, donât take it the wrong way, itâs hot! But itâs nice to see you like this, with your hair down instead of your buns so tight they snatch your eyebrows.â
You frown. âI like my tight buns.â
âSo do I,â she says, tapping your butt with a cheeky smile. Before you can protest, she takes your hand and leads you into the house. âCome on, weâve made some changes inside, let me show you.â
âAm I the first person here?â you ask. The house is empty save for you and her, and probably Jaemin, somewhere.
She smiles at you mischievously. âOf course. Weâre going to catch up first. And who the hell starts a party at 6 p.m. anyway?â
Chaewonâs presence is everywhere around her house, from the white gauze curtains that flutter in the wind to the trinkets that line the shelves of a cupboard passed down onto her from her grandparents. There are new pieces of furniture here and there, and a nice patterned rug in the living room, but the biggest change has been done to the kitchen. Itâs been fully renovated to be more modern since you were last here, and itâs fully functional now, with everything she needs to make her homemade bread and her thousand side dishes that accompany every one of her meals. Itâs a good thing Jaeminâs a nice personâyou staunchly believe that not many people are deserving of the kind of care Chaewon is able to provide. You remember making that very clear when you came to visit for the holidays, and got a little too drunk with Chaewon for New Yearâs Eveâyou canât recall exactly what you said to him, but he could hardly look you in the eye for the remainder of your stay, so it mustâve left an impression.
Thereâs barely an inch of free space on the counter, and the fridge isnât faring much better. All sorts of salads and dips, meat and vegetable skewers, marinating chicken thighs, and of course, cupcakes. Tons of cupcakes. She doesnât let you lingerâJaemin walks into the kitchen, and youâve barely hugged him hello and exchanged niceties with him that sheâs already dragging you someplace else, telling rather than asking her fiancĂ© to finish getting the food ready.
She sits you down on a chair outside then heads back in, telling you sheâll be right back. It gives you some time to admire her backyard, the way itâs all been set up for tonight, cute cushions on the patio sofas, fairy lights strung in the trees, ribbons on the fence around her vegetable patch. Even back in high school, she grew green onions and avocados on the window sill of her parentsâ kitchen. Youâre excessively moved knowing that she has a whole garden to tend to now. Itâs so easy to picture her, wearing a sunhat as she waters and adds soil to her plants.Â
When she comes back out, itâs with two glasses of suspiciously pink liquid in her hands. She sees your weary expression and says, âDonât worry, you can barely taste the alcohol in it.â
âThatâs exactly what Iâm worried about,â you reply, but take a sip anyway. God knows youâre going to need some liquid courage to face tonight. Itâs overly sweet, tasting mostly of strawberry syrup, and almost not at all of the vodka and prosecco Chaewon says she put in. Fine with you.
She launches straight away into her usual interrogation. Itâs less daunting, because you can expect itâevery reunion with Chaewon means sheâs going to have a thousand questions for you if you donât turn the subject around on her at some point. She wants to know all of the office gossip as though she has personal stakes in who your coworkers are dating and what the workplace dynamics are like. She asks about your daily life, your friends, whether youâre seeing anyone.
âIâd have told you if I had a boyfriend, Chae,â you say.
She shrugs, a little sheepish. âI donât know. Thereâs lots of things you donât tell me about, you knowâŠâ
There it is, the sharp pang of guilt in your stomach. The summer breeze suddenly feels cold on your bare skin, the stillness of the countryside oppressive. Up until now, it felt like barely a few weeks had passed since youâd last seen Chaewon, but reality catches up to you now, with its distance and silences, the ones you imposed between the two of you. âIâm sorry,â you say quietly.
âNo, Iâm not mad!â she exclaims, panicked. âIâm just saying, I donât know so much about your life anymore, so this could be something I donât know about either⊠Iâm making this worse, arenât I?â she asks when she sees the pained look on your face.
You shake your head. âYouâre right, though. I know I should call more often, I justâŠâ
âWant to put this all behind you, I get it. You always talked about wanting to go back to Seoul in high school, so Iâm happy youâre able to thrive there now,â she says, although thereâs an edge to her voice that you know means sheâs more hurt than she wants to let on.
âBut it isnât fair to you.â
She shrugs again. When she looks at you, thereâs a small smile on her face that looks a little too forced. For as long as youâve known her, Chaewon has been wholly averse to conflictâthis is probably the hardest sheâll scold you for being so absent. But because itâs from her, itâs an effective reminder to be a better friend.
You canât help but put everything and everyone here in the same corner of your mind. You thought that to move on from one person, youâd need to move on from everyone, even Chaewon. You can only hope itâs not too late to start realizing how much of a fool youâve been.
âLook, I didnât get you all the way here to talk about this. I just wanna know how youâve been.â
âIâve been good, Chae, really. And now itâs your turn to present your life to me in excruciating detail.â
She chuckles and says, âFine, but weâll need a refill for this.â
âWhat? Has it been bad?âÂ
In the doorway, she turns around to look at you. âOh, not for me. My lifeâs been so awesome that youâll need to drink your jealousy away, babe.â
And indeed, when she comes back and tells all about her life recently with a dreamy look in her eyes, it isnât that youâre jealous per se, but that you realize this is the life a lot of people wish forâmarried with a nice house before thirty, and children soon, if you know her at all. And you agree these things sound nice, but theyâre not what you want for yourself right now. Sure, there have been hurdles: her parents-in-law are pretty conservative, but Jaemin always stands up for her, and her job as an elementary school teacher can be very tiring, but, she says, âhaving someone like him to come home to makes everything so much easier.â Sheâs always had a sentimental streak to her, but this close to the wedding, you can tell her love for Jaemin has never been so strong. Youâre reassured to see it doesnât stop her from ordering him around as usual, or scolding him when he puts the chocolate sprinkles on top of the blue frosted cupcakes even though she told him at least a million times that the star-shaped sprinkles went on those.Â
âBut the star-shaped ones taste like nothing, honey,â he says. You shake your head even if he canât see you. Chaewon gasps like he just told her to go fuck herselfâand in her eyes, itâs probably as though he has.
As much as she hates arguments, this is something sheâd lay her life down for. She heads into the kitchen to give him a piece of her mind, leaving you to reflect over her words. It makes everything so much easier. You do wonder what that must feel like, to have someone to come home to after a long day instead of a silent glass of wine. At least the wine canât judge you.
The two glasses of Chaewonâs pink mixture must really be getting to your head, because when she sits back down next to you, face flushed from a heated conversation about sprinkles, you find yourself telling her whatâs on your mind. âIâve almost had that a couple times, you know. Someone to come home to,â you say, feeling her gaze on the side of your face as you keep yours on the garden in front of you. âI did tell you about some of the guys I dated.â
âYeah, and you always seemed super unfazed about the break-ups.â
âI was. I always expected it to end one day or another, so I wasnât so surprised when that day came.â Her hand on your forearm is warm, anchoring, silently telling you that itâs okay to go on. âItâs not that I donât want that life. But whenever they started talking about meeting their parents, or moving in together, let alone get married⊠It just freaked me out. The idea of someone being so close to me, eventually knowing so much about me. Howââ You interrupt yourself, taken aback by the tears you feel pooling in your eyes. You turn to look at Chaewon, and something in her expression, in the familiarity of her features, makes you take a deep breath and keep talking. This is Chaewon. She wonât make fun of you for crying. âHow do you do it, Chae? How do you trust someone to still love you when they know about all the worst sides of you?â
âOh, honey,â she whispers, standing up to wrap her arms around you. A few silent tears stream down your cheeks, hopefully not staining her dress, as you hug her back tightly. âWhat about me? Minji, Yunjin? What about Jaeyun?â
Her voice seems to soften on his name, or maybe itâs your heart that softens upon hearing it. A part of you thinks he may be at fault for your unsatisfactory love lifeâknowing heâs out there makes it harder to fall for someone else. But thatâs something you couldnât admit to Chaewonâyou can barely admit it to yourself as it is.
âIâm sorry,â you say, sniffling against her shoulder. âI shouldnât be doing this today, of all days.â
She shushes you. âNo, no, itâs okay. Iâm glad youâre letting it out. Listen.â She crouches in front of you, brushes away strands of your hair that got stuck in your wet eyelashes. âThereâs nothing monstrous about you that would drive anyone away. Youâre more cautious than most of us when it comes to relationships, and thatâs okay. It just means that when you finally do give your heart to someone, theyâll be all the more deserving of it. And I promise you that someone is out there.â She smiles, adding, âMaybe closer than you think.â
âWhatâwhatâs that supposed to mean?â
âCome on,â she says with a laugh, unfolding from her crouch and holding her hand out to you. âYour makeupâs all messed up. Iâll help you fix it before everyone else gets here.â
In her upstairs bathroom, she pushes off all the clothes laying haphazardly on an armchair and instructs you to sit there. With four cocktails between the two of you, everything becomes funnyâyouâre both laughing so hard at the shape of her mascara tube that it takes her five minutes to properly apply the makeup to your lashes. She keeps scolding you for scrunching your eyes in laughter and stopping her from doing her job, as if sheâs not the one who canât see through the tears in her eyes. âNow my mascaraâs running!â she complains when she sees her reflection in the mirror.
Like little girls playing around with their motherâs beauty products, she applies eyeshadows of all colors on your lids, tries out a different lipstick on each half of your lips to see which one fits you best. You look ridiculous, but youâd probably let her keep going for hours if it wasnât for the sudden ring of the doorbell. You both freeze mid-laughing fit as if the whole point of this evening wasnât for people to come over, the blush brush in Chaewonâs hand floating inches from your cheek.
âWho is it?â you whisper, unable to tell who it is from the voices mixing with Jaeminâs downstairs.
âSounds like Jeno and his new girlfriend,â she whispers back. âYou havenât met her. Sheâs way too cool for him.â
âAs are all of Jenoâs girlfriends.â
Chaewon nods. Before she can say anything else, Jaeminâs voice rings out in the house, calling out for her. âBe down in a minute!â she shouts back, then turns to you. Her energy seems to have shifted from when you were laughing around together when she says, âLetâs get this off you. I made you look a little crazy.â
As she douses a cotton pad with makeup remover, you ask her quietly, âAre you okay?â
With the cotton over your eyes, you canât see her expression, but youâve known her long enough to picture it. The tight lips, the slightly furrowed eyebrows. âIâm okay, just a little nervous,â she says. âItâs been a while since weâve had this many people over at once.â
Your surprise only lasts a secondâalthough Chaewon had appeared nothing but excited every time you talked about this weekend, you remember how sheâd grow anxious in the last moments before any party she threw. You take the cotton pad from her hands, holding onto her wrist as you look earnestly into her eyes. âItâs going to be an amazing evening, Chae. Youâre the best hostess in this town. The food looks great, as it always does, and everyoneâs going to be ecstatic to see each other again. And to congratulate you! Youâre getting married in two days!â
A small smile was forming on her lips as you spoke, but itâs the mention of her wedding that really seems to do the trick. âI am,â she says quietly, smiling down at her feet like a giddy schoolgirl.Â
âAnd your fiancĂ©âs waiting downstairs for you. Along with Jeno and his cool girlfriend.â
She sighs deeply. âYouâre right. Iâve been busy all day getting everything ready, and now that thereâs nothing left to do, Iâm panicking.â
âThereâs no reason to,â you tell her, squeezing her wrist warmly. âGo. Iâll take care of my makeup.â
With a quick hug, Chaewon thanks you and heads downstairs. In the mirror, it really does look like a small child had far too much fun on your face. Wiping it all off with her cleansing oil and digging through her pouch for liner and a lip tint, you remember all the evenings spent at your auntâs house, her combing through your closet before a party because your aunt let you buy little tops that her parents would have a seizure seeing her wear. For once, the roles are reversed.Â
Calming her down has had the same effect on your nerves, although the heavy doses of vodka and prosecco in the cocktails mightâve helped. Your heart is only slightly beating faster than usual as the doorbell rings again, the voices of more people filling Chaewonâs and Jaeminâs living room. For some reason, youâre worried that coming downstairs as theyâre all greeting each other will be more awkward than meeting them out in the backyard, so you wait until it sounds like theyâve left the room. But your plan isnât so successfulâyouâre halfway down the stairs when the door opens again, the person entering seemingly familiar enough to this house to come in without announcing their presence. Your body registers the sight of him first, heart dropping to your stomach, electricity reaching all the way to your fingertips before his name has even made its way to your brain.
âJaeyun,â you breathe out, the wind knocked out of you as though you didnât see him mere hours ago and as though you were unaware of his being here tonight. What is wrong with you? Are you sure Chaewon didnât lace your drinks with something else?
His smile has the power to reassure you and double your nerves all at once. He waits for you, watching as you make your way down the remaining stairs. âLong time no see,â he says when you reach him, an infuriatingly charming grin on his lips. You canât bite back the one growing on your own. âI hope you didnât miss me too much.â
âIt was a struggle, but I made it through.â
He chuckles, and a few seconds pass in which you donât quite look at each other; youâre about to offer to join the others in the yard, but he speaks first. âYou look beautiful.â Three simple words, but coming from Jaeyun, and spoken with that low, intimate tone, they pack a punch.
You hope you donât look too obviously flustered as you gaze down at yourself, picking up the hem of your dress and rubbing the fabric between your fingers self-consciously. âThanks, Yun,â you say, voice barely above a whisper. You give yourself a few seconds to assess him, and the conclusion you come to doesnât help your stateâyouâve seen him wear white button-ups dozens of times before, at school events and fancy gatherings, but you swear his arms didnât always fill out the sleeves so perfectly, straining ever so slightly against the fabric. And sure, not having it buttoned to the top is fine, but are three undone buttons really necessary? You stop yourself from making a comment about cleavage and return his compliment instead. Then, with a frown, you tell him the others are already outside and turn on your heels.
Behind you, you hear a chuckle, then the sound of his footsteps following you. You thought itâd be nice to have Jaeyun around, a familiar and reassuring presence to look for if you ever felt awkward or out-of-place tonight, but it turns out it might be more distressing than anything.
Outside, all the newcomers, save for Jenoâs girlfriend, greet you with wide, surprised smiles, like they canât believe you actually made it all the way here. Most of your old classmates have stayed in the areaâone has gone abroad, a few have moved to Daegu, the closest big city, but for the most part, they either still live here or in nearby, somewhat larger towns with more job opportunities. Thatâs why theyâve remained such a tight-knit circle, why everyone knows everyoneâs business, and why you were much more nervous than anyone should be at the idea of going to their high school reunion. Your distance is all the more obvious by their lack thereof.Â
No one is showing you open hostility like in the worst-case scenarios youâd dreamed up, so you must be doing a good job at smiling and catching up with them and being normal with your hands, although you gladly accept the champagne glass Jaeyun hands you, thankful for something to keep them busy. And you find that itâs nice to be here. Itâs nice to know Yurim and Jimin are as inseparable as ever and are planning to do the whole baby-at-the-same-time thing (once they manage to both find a boyfriend). Itâs nice to see Jeno start to look less like a nerd over time, but that he hasnât lost his ability to bag the most beautiful women youâve ever met, like Giselle, who he very proudly introduces you to, and who is indeed way cooler than him. She volunteers at the animal shelter in her free time and DJs for huge techno clubs in the city on the weekend, so to be fair, sheâs cooler than most people.
As more people start trickling in, instead of retreating into yourself, you relax. The weather is perfect, the sun making its slow, lazy descent into the night, a warm summer breeze coming through; people are happy to be here, to see each other, to see you; when Chaewon isnât frantically running around, making sure that everyone is doing okay and that there are enough mini-fours to go around, she actually looks like sheâs enjoying herself.
And thereâs Jaeyun. Itâs not that you mean to notice him, but your gaze keeps drifting to him of its own volition. He moves through the crowd with ease, clearly surrounded by people heâs comfortable with, always being pulled into conversations or making small talk with everyone he bumps into. His eyes seem to find yours often, and every time, he smiles at you like he knows something you donât. Instead of quickly turning away like he used to as a teenager, unashamed at getting caught, his eyes linger on your face before slowly returning to whoeverâs talking to him.
Thereâs a really annoying moment when heâs standing by the barbecue, keeping Jaemin company while he grills sausages and skewers, holding a bottle of beer in one hand, talking and laughing seemingly without a care in the world, as though he doesnât know, or care, how infuriatingly hot he is. Hair pushed back from his forehead, a slight blush on his cheeks from the heat of the grill, that stupid third button still popped open. He looks like he was taken straight from the front cover of a menâs magazine, and it shouldnât be this attractive, but it is, and thereâs nothing you can do about it but down the rest of your champagne glass.
Somethingâs different about him. Despite having seen him over the years, all this time, whenever youâve thought of Jaeyun, the person who came to mind was fifteen, sixteen, seventeen. A little shy, especially around girls, but with a smile that could charm a rock and that he hadnât yet discovered the power of. The pant legs of his school uniform were a little too long because he was sure heâd have one last growth spurt in your final year of school after seeing Heeseung go through one. He never did, then couldnât be bothered to exchange them or get them hemmed. They got soaking wet every time it rained. Of course some things have remained unchangedâheâs still as attentive as always, remembering small things about people, asking them about it, and listening with genuine interest when they answer. He doesnât try to make things about him, and he doesnât get annoyed when they ramble on for minutes on end without ever returning a question. Itâs hard to pinpoint exactly what it is that feels so new about him, so unfamiliar in this exciting, intriguing way.
After observing him through careful, discreet glances (which he seems to notice half of), you come to the conclusion that itâs in the way he carries himself. He stands straighter, walks with more confidence, and has figured out what to do with his arms. Heâs always been a human magnet: old ladies made conversation with him in grocery lines, strangers stopped him in the street for directions, he was elected class president every year without ever putting himself forward. You remember the pressure he used to feel because of it, like he couldnât bear to let anyone down although he was sure itâd inevitably happenâbut now, he seems completely at ease with all this attention on him. Not like heâs gloating, but like heâs in his element.
Eager to avoid his gaze and the dreadful feelings it causes in you, you move around the backyard as often as he does under the guise of catching up with as many as you can, always managing to be part of a different group than he is. And you drink. Everyone does, so youâre not embarrassing yourself on your ownâitâs a known fact that Chaewon can and will feed an army, so her guests bring tons of alcohol to make up for all her efforts. Your glass never goes empty for long simply because no one lets itâyou could refuse, but you donât.Â
You spend thirty minutes stuffing yourself with Chaewonâs cucumber salad and getting all the staff drama of your old school from Yunjin, who now works there as an English teacher. When sheâs done telling you about the affair between the vice-principal and your Year 11 Geography teacher, she takes you aback by asking, âSo, whatâs up between you and Jaeyun?â
Back in high school, people often mistook you for a couple or joked around about you liking each other, so you do as you did thenâyou laugh it off, saying thereâs nothing there. That doesnât seem to satisfy Yunjin, however. She tilts her head at you, asking, âAre you sure? He seems so⊠attentive to you. Just now at the buffet he stopped you from getting the potato salad because thereâs mustard in it. And in high school he was always running around doing things for you. All the girls were jealous of you.â
Your smile feels frozen, plastered on as you stare down at your plate. âThatâs just Jaeyun. Heâs nice to everyone, it doesnât mean anything.â
âY/N,â a voice says, but it definitely does not belong to Yunjin. Not only does it come from behind you, itâs also much too deep to be hers. When you lift your head, sheâs looking right over your shoulder, surprise written all over her features. You turn around to find Jaeyun standing there, handing you a hot dog. âDelivery,â he says, tone light, but his closed-off expression betrays him. You donât know how much of your conversation he heard, but he mustâve not liked it. Youâre not sure whyâitâs not like you lied. Jaeyun is nice to everyone.Â
You bite into the bread. It has all of your perfect toppings for a hot dogâketchup, fried onions, shredded cheddar and jalapeños. When Yunjin leans towards you, a hand on your arm as she says, âI donât think it doesnât mean anything,â you wonder if sheâs right.
A few drinks later, youâre stumbling inside the house, headed for the bathroom, when a hand wraps around your wrist. It belongs to none other than Jaeyun, whose expression is a mix of amusement and concern. Now that all the foodâs come out, the kitchen is dark, bathing in the fairy lightsâ glow from outside and from the few other lights in Chaewon and Jaeminâs garden. And itâs empty, save for the two of you. Itâs only the copious amounts of alcohol running in your blood that makes you think how enticing he looks in this semi-darkness, or that makes you imagine the affection you think you see in his eyes.
Of course youâd spend all evening avoiding him only to find yourself face-to-face alone with him suddenly like this. You look down at his fingers on you, and he lets go.
âHere.â With his other hand, he offers you a glass of water.
âIâm good,â you say, trying to sound casual, but you donât like the close attention heâs paying you. Or maybe youâre embarrassingly drunk and heâs sending you a message. In any case, itâs always been hard for you to accept Jaeyunâs small gesturesâyou always have to remind yourself heâs doing it out of the goodness of his heart and not because he especially cares about you.Â
âY/N.â The way he says your name makes lightning zip down your spine. His voice is stern, but thereâs a certain warmth to it. Like youâre being unreasonable, but cutely so.Â
You take the water from his hands and down it in one go. âHappy?â
âVery,â he says, a smirk on his lips that you frown at as he takes the cup back and places it in the sink. He rests his hands behind him on the counter, eyes searching your face, and you, for some reason, stand there and let him instead of going to the bathroom like youâd originally set out to do. Even as silence stretches out between you, your feet are frozen, and youâre finally courageous enough to meet his gaze without backing down. Even as his eyes scan your face, settling on your lips, and your heart threatens to give out. Even as he takes a step towards you and your chest starts visibly heaving up-and-down with every breath you take.
When heâs standing in front of you, he finally speaks, his voice unlike youâve ever heard it beforeâlow, vulnerable, and with a hint of ruggedness that makes your head spin. âHave you been avoiding me?â
âNoââ
âDonât lie to me, Y/N, please.â He sounds like heâs seconds away from pleading with you. Heâs never been one to hide when heâs hurt, so youâve heard him many times like this, but never when you were the cause of his upset. It was always because of a bad grade, a fight with his parents, a joke he took the wrong way. You wouldnât know if you ever hurt him before, because heâs never come to you about it. It feels weird knowing youâre capable of such a thing.
âIâm nâOkay, yes, Iâm avoiding you a little bit,â you say in a small voice. Whether itâs the look on Jaeyunâs face or the last cocktail you had, but you canât bring yourself to pretend.Â
But you belatedly realize that of course, answering this question will only bring about another, much harder to answer: âWhy?â
So you make up another lie thatâs about as believable as the first one. âIâI donât know, Yunnie. Iâm just trying to speak to as many people as I can.â
âBut not me?â
Is he drunk? He always got whinier after drinking. That must be it. Although his voice isnât whiny at allâheâs not complaining, he rather sounds like he has answers he wants from you and is set on getting them. But itâs the only explanation you can come up with.
Youâre unable to keep his gaze anymore. Looking down at the floor, you say, âWe spoke earlier. Weâre speaking now.â
âYeah, and I practically had to corner you for it.â The vulnerability has left his voice and he sounds⊠frustrated?Â
He crosses his arms over his chest, and despite yourself, your eyes follow the movement. Heâs rolled up his sleeves, letting out his forearms on full display for you. Thatâs an image you immediately need out of your head, so you make the mistake of looking up at his face again, only to be met with his jaw locked tight, his eyebrows slightly furrowed, and the intensity of his eyes staring right into yours.
Heâs allowed to be mad, but does he have to look so good doing it?
As if he wasnât close enough already, he takes another step towards you. It forces you to look up at him, and the sight of his face so near yours is devastating. You can already tell itâll haunt you for nights to come.
âDo I make you nervous, Y/N? Is that why you donât want to be around me?â
You inhale sharply, audibly, and the sound seems to amuse Jaeyun. The way he smirks down at you should be condescending, but he manages to make it impossibly attractive. Like he has you exactly where he wants youâwhich doesnât make any sense. You donât understand why heâs doing this, why itâd upset him that youâd rather talk to other people than to him, how heâs figured out the reason youâre avoiding him is the butterflies gnawing at your stomach every time your gazes intertwine. Heâs never done any of this before.
âNo,â you find yourself saying, but itâs an obvious lie to both of you. Youâre breathless uttering that one word, fingers shaking from the tension in your body and Jaeyunâs proximity.
Then he sighs, and the Jaeyun you know is returned to you. A little tired by your antics, maybe, but more worried than anything. âIâll take you home when youâre ready to go.â
âButââ
âNo buts. Just come get me when you want to leave.â And with that, he turns and heads back outside, leaving you to wonder what that was all about as you wobble your way to the bathroom.
When you come back out, you make a point of sitting in the empty lawn chair next to Jaeyun and joining the conversation heâs in. He smiles at you and you glare at him, feeling like a scolded child.
Maybe alcohol makes you a little immature.
Youâre having a grand old time listening to Jenoâs and Giselleâs travel stories, but as people slowly start making their way home, aware of the weekend full of festivities theyâve got ahead of them, dread sinks in. When the partyâs over, youâll be left alone with Jaeyun. Thankfully, thereâs enough alcohol left to throw another party, and you serve yourself a couple of very generous cranberry-vodkas to prepare yourself for later. Maybe if youâre passed out in Jaeyunâs car you wonât have to talk to him.
When the gardenâs really starting to empty out, you find a small moment during which Jaeyun is busy chatting with Jaemin and some other guys, and stealthily approach Chaewon to tell her youâll be on your way now.Â
âArenât you leaving with Jaeââ
You interrupt her with a hand to her mouth. Even though heâs across the yard from you, you donât want to risk it. âIâll see you tomorrow,â you whisper, then tip-toe your way around the backyard to the front of the house, where your bike waits for you. Somewhere deep in the back of your head, part of you has remained sober enough to tell you how bad an idea it is to bike home after drinking so much. You wouldnât run into many cars at this time of night, but itâll be dark, and the ditches are deep here.Â
But you couldnât have predicted for your best friend to betray you. Just as youâre succeeding on your third try to swing your leg over your bike, you hear her voice, clear as day, shouting, âJaeyun! Y/Nâs leaving without you!â
You swear he teleports over to you. You freeze, hoping that moving as little as you can will turn you invisible.
It doesnât work.
âWhat are you doing?â Jaeyun asks as he makes his way over to you. Youâre relieved when he doesnât sound annoyed, just concerned. He stands in front of you, two hands on your bike handle right next to yours. âI told you to come get me when you were ready. You canât go home on your own like this.â
âSure I can.â You try to hoist yourself up onto your seat, and immediately lose balance, stumbling to the side. Thankfully, Jaeyunâs hand finds your waist before you can fallâit steadies your body but not your heart.Â
âCome on, Y/N. Letâs get you to bed.â
Does he hear himself? Heâs just being a good friend, so why does he have to phrase things in such an intimate way, and make your heart go all pitter-patter like the sixteen-year-old you once were? Why does he have to speak to you in that low, affectionate tone of his, like youâre someone he canât help but take care of?Â
You take a deep breath, resigning yourself to your fate. âOkay.â
He helps you off of your bike and into his car. His hold on you is gentle but firm, and you try your very hardest not to think about whether this is how he would hold you in other situations. Before he can even turn on the ignition, you close your eyes and pretend to sleep. You hear him chuckle, then back out of Chaewonâs and Jaeminâs driveway. Once or twice, you hear him inhale as though heâs going to speak, but he seems to decide against it. A ten-minute bike ride makes for a very short car ride, and before you know it, heâs already pulling up in front of your auntâs house. You keep your pretense up as he walks around the car and opens your door, and youâre sure you make a very convincing show of waking up and being sleepy.
As he takes your hand to help you out of the car, you ignore your instincts yelling at you to jump away from him. You tell yourself itâs only so you don't get caught in your lie that you let him slip an arm over his shoulders and guide you to your front door. It has nothing to do with the fact that your skin tingles everywhere it touches his, or that it feels terribly nice to be handled with so much care and patience. The front door is unlocked, and he holds you steady as you slip out of your shoes. Only when he closes the door behind you do you snap out of it.
âThank you, Yun. Iâll be alright from here.â
He narrows his eyes at you. âIâm not sure you will. I donât trust you not to trip up the stairs.â
You panic as he leads you further inside the house. âButâWhat if my aunt sees us?â
He stops in his tracks, then turns his head to look down at you with something you think is mischief in his eyes. âWhy? What about it?â
âShe might misunderstand!â you whisper-yell.
âWhatâs there to misunderstand, Y/N? Iâve taken you home drunk a dozen times before. Besides, Iâm just Jaeyun, right? This doesnât mean anything.â Youâre left speechless. So he did hear you earlier, and although he kept his tone light-hearted, something makes you think he isnât entirely unoffended. You stare at him, sure the guilt on your face is obvious. Eventually, he sighs, starts walking again. âIâm just teasing you.â
Despite yourself, you are glad heâs there to help you up to your bedroomâthe stairs are remarkably wobbly tonight. Even though he tries to sit you down gently onto your bed, you let yourself flop on the mattress, already half-asleep the moment your back hits it. Youâre uncharacteristically pliant as he guides you into a more comfortable position, lifting your head to rest on your pillows, pulling your duvet over you. You somehow feel more drunk now than you were leaving the party, as though Jaeyunâs touch and proximity are stronger than any alcohol. Maybe thatâs why you suddenly find this situation hilarious. Your first chuckle makes Jaeyunâs hand freeze on your blanket; then, when giggles start pouring uncontrollably out of you, he asks you whatâs so funny, and has to shush you, saying youâll wake your aunt up. But you can tell heâs amused, and it only makes you laugh more.Â
âSeriously, whatâs gotten into you?â he asks, sitting next to you. For some reason, the dip of his weight on the mattress feels reassuring.
âThis is just nice,â you mutter, eyes still closed. âIt feels nice.â
Heâs silent for a few seconds. âWhat is?â he whispers.
âThis. You being here.â
He releases a shaky breath. âIt could happen more often, if you let me. It could happen every night.â
You giggle, because you know heâs just joking around. But you let him, even if it hurts a little bit, and you play along. âYeah, thatâd be nice. I think Iâd sleep a lot better.â
With a delicate finger, he brushes strands of hair away from your eyes. You hum, smiling contentedly at his touch. This is such a nice dream that you hope you wonât have to wake up too soon from. âI think I would, too,â he whispers, voice shaky like he isnât at all happy like you are, which confuses you. âI donât know what to do, Y/N. I want so badly to take care of you, but you wonât let me. I donât know how else to show you how good I could be to you.â
âYouâre taking care of me now.â
âYeah, and youâre so drunk you probably wonât remember this tomorrow.â
He sniffles, and you suddenly get the sensation that this isnât a dream at all. You keep your eyes closed anyway, frowning as you turn your head to the side, tears starting to form behind your eyelids.
âBe back in a minute,â he whispers.
You open your eyes to find him gone. You try to make sense of what just happened, but your thoughts are muddled and hazy, and more questions than answers appear. You donât come to any satisfying conclusions, at least none that arenât clearly fueled by your delusions concerning Jaeyun.Â
When he comes back, heâs holding a tall glass of water. He seems briefly surprised to see you awake. He puts the glass gently down onto your bedside table, then kneels by your bed, grabbing your hand that youâd slipped above the comforter. He looks into your eyes with an intensity youâre unfamiliar with coming from him, and that makes your stomach twist. âListen, Y/N. Youâre only here for a few days, so Iâll be very clear about this. And if youâve forgotten by tomorrow, Iâll make sure to remind you.â He pauses here, takes a deep breath. Thereâs a furrow in his eyebrows as he speaks. He looks desperate, but for what, you couldnât tell. âIâm not letting you go this time. I feel like I keep losing you, over and over again, just when I think I finally have you. Iâm not letting that happen again. I donât want to be apart from you anymore.â
Your mind is reeling. You feel dizzy. You close your eyes, but it doesnât help. Jaeyunâs words are loud and nonsensical in your head. âDo you mean⊠as friends?â you ask, because the other option seems so impossible, even in your inebriated state, you can hardly seriously entertain it.
He sighs, and it sounds like disappointment. âIf thatâs what you want, then Iâll give up on trying to be more. But if it isnât what you want, then no.â
Your eyes fly open. Does that meanâŠ
âIâm in love with you, Y/N. Iâve always been, and I canât take hiding it anymore. Iâll take rejection over another day of pretending all I want to be is your friend. I want to talk to you everyday. I want to see you more often. I canât keep going like this, calling you once every few months and acting like Iâm fine with it.â
Youâre stunned into silence. Even your thoughts are frozen, your mind completely blank. How do you react to words youâve wanted to hear your whole life, and have convinced yourself you never would, not in a million years?
âIââ
âYou donât have to say anything now,â he interrupts, and youâre relieved. âWhatever it is, Iâd rather hear it when youâre sober. Iâm sorry for springing this up on you, I just⊠I think I wouldâve flaked out if I hadnât done it right now.â
He gazes down at you with a fondness youâve only seen in your dreams, and strokes your hair. âIâll let you sleep now. Iâll see you tomorrow, okay?â
âOkay,â you say, surprised you're able to speak.Â
âOkay.â
He seems to hesitate for a second, but whatever it is, he decides against it. He gets up, and with one final glance back at you, closes your bedroom door gently. You listen for his footsteps down the stairs, the sound of the front door, and of his car driving away, and find yourself wishing heâd stayed, wishing for proof that you didnât dream up everything he just said.Â
.
.
Iâm in love with you, Y/N.
You wake with a start. Jaeyunâs voice was so loud in your head, you thought he was standing right over youâbut itâs only your imagination playing tricks on you, you realize with some disappointment.Â
Some moments from last night are blurry or simply inexistent in your mind. Yurim sent selfies a bunch of you took to the group chat, of which you have no recollection being a part of. You have no idea how the marker doodles appeared on your arm, nor who is the artist behind them. But Jaeyunâs words you remember with dizzying, intimidating clarity, the words he spoke to you in the near-complete darkness of this room, and that you donât think you could ever forget, no matter your state.
Part of you has always longed to hear those words, but another part has always dreaded they would be heard one day. You donât know which part is stronger right now. Replaying his voice in your mind, your heart flutters at the same time as your stomach sinks. Theyâre words that have the power to change everything, that perhaps already have, and thatâs what terrifies you.
Itâs already ten in the morning. You wish you could stay here all day, safe under the covers, rehashing those words until they lose all meaning, but you know thatâs impossible. Not only do you have a pounding headache and a mouth drier than the desert to tend to, more importantly, you have a responsibility to be there for Chaewon and the things sheâs planned for today. So you force yourself out of bed and begrudgingly make your way downstairs.Â
Your aunt has already left for work. Breakfast is ready on the dining table, along with a tall glass of water, ibuprofen, and a note that reads: I didnât hear you come home last night, so I assume you had a good time. Take this and eat your weight in bread. Thereâs coffee left in the Keurig. Bless her. You know better than to eat too much, thoughâif thereâs one thing Chaewon takes seriously, itâs brunch, so you know youâll have plenty of food to cure your hangover in just a bit.Â
As hard as you try to divert your thoughts towards anything else, itâs impossible not to think of what Jaeyun said last night. Itâs all your mind circles back to, like a vulture thatâs found its prey and wonât let go. Despite that, the shock has yet to wear off, and you stare into your cup of coffee, searching in vain for answers there.
It took you a while to fall for Jaeyun, then it took you even longer to admit those feelings to yourself. At fourteen years old, stepping foot in Gimcheon for the first time, you wanted nothing to do with the people here. Not with your aunt, not with your classmates. You wanted to wallow in your grief, for the bitterness of the injustice thatâd taken your parents away from you to fully take over you.Â
Jaeyun was one of the people who didnât let that happen. Some of the kids in your class found you odd or standoffish, often whispering behind your back about your sudden arrival in town, but he and Chaewon never failed to try and talk to you despite your extremely low-effort replies, to invite you out for snacks or basketball after class, to send you the lessons you missed on days your body felt too heavy to get out of bed.Â
Nothing in particular happened for you to suddenly change your mind about them. Maybe it was because you thought theyâd stop pestering you if you just said yes, or because you sometimes felt the sharp loss of your friends in Seoul, whose calls youâd all ignored since moving. You surprised your new classmates as much as yourself when they asked you if you wanted to go eat tteokbokki with them, and you casually said, âSure, why not,â as if your acceptance was a daily occurrence.Â
The rest was history. Although it took some more time before you really opened up to them, they accepted you the way you were, sharp edges and all. With them, part of the person you were before could resurface, carefree, happy. You still went home to a mostly silent, grief-stricken relative, who was practically a stranger to you, but at least you could look forward to seeing your friendsâand something as simple as that made life easier every day.
As soon as you thought they started to appear, you tried to squash your feelings for Jaeyun, to no avail. Just when you told yourself you could never be more than friends, heâd bring you strawberry milk from the convenience store he walks by on his way to school. After spending an evening making a list of all the reasons itâd be a bad idea for you to date (itâd be awkward with your friends, you and your sadness would be a burden to him, it was too scary to get close to someone when they could leave you at any time), youâd wake up the next morning with a text that said, Good morning!!!! Did you know that if the Sun stopped shining, itâd take 8.5 minutes for us to realize it??!Â
But I know right away when youâre not shining
:)
Momâs making your favorite shrimp jeon tonight so you HAVE to come over
And even your strongest will wasnât enough against the force of his kindness. You were forced to submit to it, and to suffer for it for years to comeâwhen other girls offered him chocolate on Valentineâs Day. When Bae Sumin asked him to the dance, and you had to ignore his concerned expression as he repeatedly asked you if it was really okay that he went, and all you could do was smile and convince him that it was. When you left for university and you had to stop yourself from asking why it seemed to be making him so sad, so uncharacteristically upset with you, almost like he wanted to punish you for leaving him. When every time you came back after that, it became harder and harder to say goodbye to him again.
You got mad at him sometimes. If something unexpected reminded you of your parents, like your momâs favorite dish being served at the cafeteria, or someone using an expression your dad often said, youâd become irritable, and would be unable or unwilling to explain why. He was so patient with you then, even more attentive to your mood than usual, but the feeling of being treated kindly, like he needed to walk on eggshells around you, incomprehensibly made you even more abrasive. Youâd blow up at him: I donât need your help, I donât need your pity, get off my back, what are you even being so nice for anyways?
And his reply would only drive you further insane: Because I care about you.
Youâd always wish heâd say anything else, something less vague like Because itâs the right thing to do, or Because thatâs who I am, or even Because youâre my friend, but no, heâd say, âBecause I care about you,â and it was worse than anything he could ever say.
Because of course, friends care about each other. Of course they help each other out and do kind things for one another. But you so desperately wished Jaeyun could care for you in another way. And that was the problem: you couldnât stop yourself reading into his actions, devoid of the meaning you wanted them to have.
And there was always that lingering thought: Iâm leaving anyway. You were a city girl at heart. You missed the beauty stores that occupied five floors, the animal cafĂ©s you and your friends had spent way too much of your allowance at, the billboards of your favorite celebrities in the subway, the libraries with their wide range of manhwas for you to choose from. As much as youâd come to love your life in Gimcheon, you knew you couldnât stay. You knew you couldnât live on a nearby campus during the week and come back on the weekends like most of your friends would be doing.Â
At eighteen years old, you wanted a clean break. You wanted to attend a prestigious university, to dress up for class, to have study dates at a cozy cafĂ©, to go out to a club on the weekend and not worry about how youâd get home because the buses stopped running way before midnight. Youâd daydream about the cool job youâd have, the cool clothes youâd wear, the cool people youâd meet. Then youâd go downstairs and see your aunt, and sheâd ask if you were okay with frozen dumplings for a third night in a row. Or youâd arrive at school and see Chaewon and Yunjin shrieking over Got7âs new song. Or youâd get a text from Jaeyun, saying, Cats use physics to land on their feet. Theyâre not aware of it though. And suddenly, the idea of a clean break became much, much harder.
Once you left, your reasons for not confessing to Jaeyun didnât changeâif anything, they strengthened. Growing up didnât make you any less scared of opening up to someone, of letting them see the vulnerable sides of you, and hoping theyâd still love you. Even if you had a positive example in Chaewon and Jaeyun, youâd never experienced it with a romantic partner, and not only did your incessant but unconscious comparing of them to Jaeyun stop you from completely falling in love with the few boyfriends youâve had over the years, your inability to fully bare yourself emotionally to them inevitably caught up to you. Theyâd point it out, trying to coax your story and emotions out of you with kind words, gentle touchesâbut you never wanted it enough to make the extra effort. Theyâd take your independence as a personal affront, like it was a fault on their part that you were allergic to relying on others. Theyâd get frustrated. Some of them would yell at you while you stared off into the distance, numb, wondering if youâd always be like this. Theyâd break up with you, and youâd move on like nothing happened.
The fear of loss still froze your heart into place. Even in the throes of puberty, your mother and father were your two favorite people on Earth. At thirteen, you thought theyâd live forever. You were reasonable enough to know not everyone you loved would dieâalthough the thought of going through that grief again did keep you up at night. A bad break-up was enough to terrify you. And what would you do when you finally handed your heart to someone, only for them to turn around and decide they donât want it after all?
A handful of times, you tried to sit yourself down and imagine, as objectively as you could, what might happen if you confessed your feelings to Jaeyun. You tried, but you never could. It was too scary, with him. As your friend, he was the glue that held you together. If you took that one step closer, youâd be too far goneâand once that happened, who was to say, when it inevitably ended, if youâd ever be able to tape yourself back together.
Youâve had many self-indulgent thoughts over the years, many delusions youâve had to compel yourself away from when he looked at you a little long, grew a little too quiet when you talked about another boy, came up with increasingly ridiculous excuses to walk you home even though it was out of his way. Youâve worked so hard to bury them deep, and here he comes, so late on a Thursday night that it became a Friday morning, telling you it was neither self-indulgence nor delusion.Â
Itâs too much to process with a hangover.Â
Your shower doesnât have the relaxing effect you hoped it would have on your nerves. Even when you turn the temperature as low as you can take it, your skin burns hot at the thought of seeing Jaeyun again, of him repeating himself in broad daylight. By the time youâve dressed and gotten ready, your heart is still racing wild, and youâre no closer to figuring out what the correct attitude around him or right thing to say is.
Youâre tying your shoelaces when the doorbell rings. Of course, itâs Jaeyun standing behind the door, asking you if youâre ready to go to Chaewonâs.Â
You just gape at him. Youâd prepared yourself mentally to see him a little later, with other people aroundâyou hadnât expected this and your brain simply malfunctions as a result.
He chuckles. âI wasnât going to let you walk all the way there. You left your bike, remember?â
From his softened tone and the way he gulps as he awaits your answer, you can tell heâs not just asking whether you remember the drive home. He looks at you, a little expectant, a little scared, and his demeanor relaxes you. Heâs not acting like nothing happened last night, and he doesnât seem overly confident afterâwell, after confessing his love for you. Thatâs what it was, wasnât it? No matter how hard a time you have believing it. It relaxes you because it feels like youâre not worrying alone about this shift in your friendship, about this rearranging of things and feelings. With just one look, he tells you heâs right there with you.
And thatâs all you need.
âRight. Thanks, Yun.â
He stands there for a little, expression morphing into something giddier, more hopeful, and you wonder how long heâd stay there looking at you if you didnât clear your throat and say, âShould we⊠go?â
âYes! Yes, of course, letâs go,â he says, laughing awkwardly, rubbing the back of his head as he turns away and heads towards his car.
Surely, he canât always have been this obvious. Surely, if heâs been in love with you for as long as he says he has, then he learned just as well as you did to school his feelings and make them as discreet as he could. Because if he was acting this way all along, all boyish grins and non-stop glances your way, then you wouldâve had to be the densest person on Earth not to notice.
And it hurts your pride a little to think you mightâve actually been this dense.
After a minute on the road, he asks, âHow are you feeling? Not too hungover?â
âA little. But Iâll feel a lot better after having some of Chaeâs pancakes.â
âYeah. And the pressed orange juice as well. With theââ
ââOranges from her grandparentsâ garden?â you say at the same time, and laugh.
âYeah. Itâs the best,â he says.
âWhat about you?â you ask. âYou didnât drink that much last night, right?â
âYep. Just a beer at the start of the evening, and thatâs it.â Then, he smiles, a little smug, and adds: âWhy? Were you watching?â
You scoff, crossing your arms over your chest as though he was making a ridiculous assumption, when you very well knew you were constantly aware of his whereabouts last night. Of course you noticed him sipping on either water or Pepsi the entire evening. âI was not. But you were able to drive, so I assumed.â
âRight.â That smug smile of his is still fixed on his lips, so you know you sounded just as unconvincing as you felt. âWell, I was watching. And I can tell you you drank something like seven different sorts of alcohol last night.â
For your own sanity, you ignore the first part, and focus on the second. You groan, hiding your face in your hands. âThatâs why my headacheâs so bad.â
Jaeyun reacts immediately. His head turns back-and-forth between you and the road ahead as he says, âIs it? Did you drink enough water? There should be some painkillers in the glove compartment, if youââ
âItâs okay, Yun,â you interrupt, laughing softly. âI took some ibuprofen already. Iâll feel better after eating.â
He seems skeptical. âOkay. But let me know if you need anything, yeah?â
âI will.â
As you feel the tingle of incoming tears in your eyes, you turn your head away from him. Looking out the passenger window, you think how stark the difference is between being on the receiving end of Jaeyunâs attentiveness when you were just friends, and now that you know the way he really sees you. The crushing weight of your repressed emotions is, at last, gone, and youâre only left with a light-heartedness you havenât felt in years.
Is there really a universe where every day is like this? It feels too good to be true.Â
But when Jaeyun reaches out, the palm of his hand facing up as it floats above your thigh, his expression bashful, you think â you dare to hope â you might soon be living in that universe. You take his hand, and the rest of the car ride is silent, like this one simple touch is all the words you need.
Youâre glad you remember what he told you last night. Hearing it again now, in broad daylight, with no alcohol in your system to be blamed for your reactions, would be too much to bear. The mere thought of it has your heart racing, more than it already is from the warmth of Jaeyunâs hand in yours. You look down at it, the way it sits so prettily in your lap, the way his fingers intertwine with yours like itâs what they were meant to do. You crave to touch his hand more, to turn it around and analyze the lines of his palm, to feel the ridges of his knuckles, the smoothness of his nails under your fingers, but you stop yourself. Itâs an art piece in a museum that you content yourself with watching from afar, awed.
Too soon, you arrive at Chaewonâs house. The loss of Jaeyunâs touch is almost alarmingâwhat if he changes his mind and this was the only time youâd get to do this?
But as though he can read your thoughts, he guides you with a hand to your lower back towards Chaewonâs and Jaeminâs front doorâand he pauses before it, gazing down at you with a smile you want to interpret as reassuring.Â
Iâm not letting you go this time. Iâm not letting that happen.
Maybe youâre overly self-conscious, but you swear a few of your old classmates exchange knowing looks when you and Jaeyun arrive together. Chaewon is the least discreet about it, stopping in her tracks when she sees the two of you, a steaming plate of pancakes in her hands, her smile wide as she gets Jaeminâs attention and nods her head in your direction. You want to escape to the kitchen under the pretense of offering your help, but Jaeyun is already pulling out a chair for you and taking a seat in the one next to it.Â
Thankfully, almost everyone is in a state similar to yours, too hungover and tired to really pay either of you too much attention. Their minds are on the food in their plates and the coffee in their mugsâthe atmosphere is relaxed, everyone making quiet conversation with their neighbors. With Chaewon on your right and Jaeyun on your left, youâre free to scarf down hash browns and scrambled eggs without having to entertain anyone. He seems to be pretty engrossed in his chat about soccer with Jeno, and yet, he knows every time you need something, standing up and reaching for the bacon or the orange juice before youâve even said anything. He holds the plate while you serve yourself, then places it back to its original spot, shooting you a smile that never fails to make your stomach twist before returning his attention to Jeno.
Chaewon had kept this afternoonâs activities a secret, only telling you all to have your school uniform ready. Some came to brunch already wearing it, but you and a few other girls go up to Chaewonâs room to change. It feels like being back in a locker room again, a bit awkward, a bit fun, teasing Yunjin for her matching black lace set on this seemingly innocuous day, comparing the stretch marks youâve obtained in the years since you last wore your uniforms.
Itâs definitely odd, seeing yourself in the mirror in that familiar short-sleeved white shirt and knee-length marine skirt. Despite how badly you wanted to grow out of Gimcheon, some things have remained the sameâthat much, youâre forced to admit to yourself when you head back to the living room and see Jaeyun in his old school uniform, a blast from the past. He watches you come down the stairs with a smile, and you wonder if heâs thinking the same things you areâthat youâve never stopped feeling like a teenager around him, and that no matter where you were in life, seeing him was enough to make your dull heart race.
His uniform still fits him okay, although itâs impossible not to notice how his arms and thighs strain against the fabric now, sleeves not quite reaching his wrists. Try hard as you might, your eyes drift to the way his button-up clings to his chest, and itâs clear he isnât oblivious to it. You swallow as you walk towards him, hands coming up to fix his tie like itâs second nature. âSeriously, Yun,â you mutter. âIt was cute when you were seventeen, but at twenty-eight, really?â
He only smirks down at you, making you more flustered than you already wereâand it doesnât help when everyone in the room oohâs at your gesture. You take a step back, but the damage has been done. Itâs like youâre in high school again, rolling your eyes at your friends when they ask if you and Jaeyun are finally dating, pretending like the mere thought doesnât have butterflies erupting in your stomach.Â
âI remember how Y/N used to fix his tie in front of the school gates every morning,â Chaewon says loudly, and you glare at her. âShe said she didnât want him to get scolded by teachers.â Everyone erupts in a chorus of so cute and I canât believe theyâre still not together and Iâm sure they used to have a crush on each other. She looks happy with herself, blissfully unaware of the chaos sheâs created for youâitâs been hard enough acting normally around Jaeyun this morning, you donât need the added spotlight.
He doesnât seem to share that sentiment, though. When he speaks, his voice cuts through the chatter. âMy dad taught me how to tie a tie before middle school. But I was running late once and she fixed it for me. I always messed it up on purpose after that.â He turns to you. Your jaw is slack, your heart a wild, frantic mess. âGuess that trick still works.â
This really is high school all over again. Your classmates act like theyâve witnessed the revelation of the century, cheering and clapping, the boys clasping Jaeyunâs shoulder like he just scored the winning goal. Chaewon squeals. Yunjin pretends to faint. Youâre rooted to your spot, too bewildered to react.
âSo you really did like her back then, didnât you?â Jeno asks, and everyone stops talking, awaiting Jaeyunâs answer with what seems like bated breathâyou included, as though he didnât tell you all about it last night.
He shrugs, but his grin, sheepish and bright at once, says it all. âIâll let you guys come to your own conclusions.â When he turns to look at you, despite the fact that you want to strangle him for putting you on the spot like this, you canât deny that his confession is a little bit â just a little bit â adorable. You think of fifteen-year-old Jaeyun looking at himself in the mirror, proud of himself for putting on his tie wrong, and you canât help but smile. Of course, this only makes your friends crazier, but Jaeyun, as if heâs suddenly decided this was enough attention, says, âIs everyone ready? Letâs head out now.â
Chaewon instructs you all to meet in your high school parking lot. On the drive over, Jaeyun apologizes, asking if what he did was too much.
âItâs okay,â you tell him. âEven if I was a little embarrassed.â
âI wasnât planning on doing anything like it, but seeing you in your uniform brought back memories, I guess,â he says, bashful. âI did say I would remind you of what I told you last night, didnât I?â
You shrug, smile down at your hands. âYou did. But itâs not like Iâd forgotten.â
He doesnât answer right awayâbut then, he suddenly looks over at you, and says, âYouâre really pretty.â
Your stomach flips. You look down at yourself to avoid his gaze as heat creeps up your face. âWhat are you sayingâŠâ you mutter.
âI never told you properly when we were in high school. So Iâm telling you now. I always thought you were the prettiest, Y/N.â
You fight it hard, but you canât bite back your smile. All you can do is hide your grin behind your fist, resting your elbow on the sill of the open window as you turn away from him. For only a brief second, as if spurred on by the confidence his compliment gave you, you change your mindâyou turn to him and abruptly say, âAnd I always thought you were the most handsome.â Then you whip back to the window and grin at the trees lining the road. But you feel his eyes on you, and when you look back at him, heâs staring at you, mouth agape. âYun! Look at the road!â you chide, laughing.
âSorry, sorry!â he exclaims, taking his eyes off you. âButâYouâSeriously?â
You canât believe it, how incredulous he sounds, how he seems as surprised as you felt last night. As you still feel now. âOf course,â you say quietly, feeling shy again.Â
Heâs quiet for a few seconds. Then, âSeriously?!â he repeats, louder, almost yelling.
âRelax,â you say, laughing at his enthusiasm. âItâs not like I was the only one. Half the girls in our class had a crush on you.â
âDid they?â he asks, a shit-eating grin on his lips. You roll your eyes.
âYou only received love letters, like, once a month.â
âBut never from the person I wanted to receive one from.â
You hold his gaze for a second. Then another, and anotherâbut you canât handle more than that. The way he looks at you, you feel too seen. Like he can read your every thought, like he can see your heart beating through your chest, your breath making its shaky way up your throat. It makes you too vulnerable, makes your desire to soak in his affection, to let him keep talking to you like this, too strong. Itâs a feeling too unfamiliar for you to accept yet.
You return to your spot, turned away from him, elbow on the windowsill. âWhatever,â you mumble.
But it seems like you admitting to having found him handsome when you were teenagers is all the confirmation he needs. Throughout the rest of the afternoon, he sticks close to your side. Since school is out for the summer, Chaewon asked Yunjin to convince her higher-ups to let your group have a ten-year high school reunion there. They agreed and got one of the janitors to act as your supervisor, as if you would damage or steal school property. In any case, he follows you around quietly while you and your classmates roam the old, familiar walls, reminiscing about all the stupid things you did, the gossip that felt like the most important thing in your lives at the time, the teachers you hated, the upperclassmen you crushed on. Mostly, you take loads and loads of pictures, reenacting memories, huddling together in front of the classroom door of your final year. Jaeyun always finds himself right behind you in the group pictures, his taller frame so close to yours you can feel his warmth.
He rests his hand on your shoulder for one of the photos, and your brain short-circuits at a touch that you wouldnât have thought about twice as a teenager. Sure, back then, Jaeyunâs touch made you feel giddy, but it was also the most natural thing in the world. Linking arms on the way home from school. Your head on his shoulder during a long bus ride. His fingers in your hair when you let him play around with it. He always said it was practice for his future daughter: âI want her to have the prettiest hairstyles in all of her school,â heâd say, as if she was already here. And youâd think to yourself, Heâll make such a great dad. And although he was someone you could tell anything to, for reasons you didnât like to think too much about at that time, this was something you kept to yourself. Now, you can hardly breathe from a hand on your shoulder. But now, you can also finally admit to yourself why that is.
And with every passing moment, every smile shared, every delicate touch of his hand to your arm, of your fingers brushing against each other, you think that maybe, just maybe, you might finally be able to admit to him why that is.
A while later, when everyone parts ways, heading home to get a few hours of rest before the big day tomorrow, Jaeyun asks you if you can hang back for a bit. Heâs so cute about it, so much like a schoolboy asking his crush out, that you canât turn him down despite the sleep you desperately need.
The soccer field by your school is surprisingly unoccupiedâeven at this time of year, when the school hallways are empty, there are usually teenagers playing here. You yourself used to spend entire afternoons here, chatting with Chaewon while the boys played soccer under the blazing sun. You remember pretending you werenât engrossed in the sweat beading on Jakeâs forehead or the way his cheeks turned crimson with the effort, and cheering for him whenever he scored a goal and turned towards you, yelling out âDid you see that?!â with that puppyish grin on his lips.
You remember the nights you spent here as well, the last summer before you left, when you and your friends wanted to drink without the adults seeing. Youâd lay side-by-side, looking up at the stars as you shared your dreams and fears for the future. If Jaeyunâs hand brushed against yours, youâd wait a few seconds, then move your hand to rest on your chest instead. You always wondered if he noticed it, the small touch, its removal. You know your hand burned with both.Â
He leads you to the soccer field now, his hand warm and gentle in yours, like heâs scared holding on too tight will scare you off. Heâs silent for a while, quietly bringing you down with him until youâre laying on the grass togetherâthis time, you keep his hand preciously in yours, even as your palms turn clammy, even as the memories of being here like this flood in.
The summer breeze has nearly lulled you to sleep when he speaks, his voice soft, careful not to startle you. âI hated the last day of school.â
You turn your head to look at him, but he keeps his eyes trained on the blue sky above. âOf course you did. You were such a nerd, you wouldâve stayed in school forever if you couldâve.â
He smiles, but he shakes his head. âNo, thatâs not it.â His tone is calm, full of significance, which you feel even more when he rests his steady gaze on yours. âIt meant time was running out. It meant Iâd spent five years liking you and still hadnât had the balls to tell you.â
You gulp. Youâre suddenly not in the mood to tease him at all. âOh,â is all you can manage to say.
He laughsâclearly, seeing you flustered is amusing to him. âYeah.â He props himself up on his elbow, gazing down at you in a way that sends your heart into a frenzy. âI got a little carried away last night,â he starts. âWhen Chaewon told me about her plans to dress in our school clothes and come here â yes, she told me before everyone else, donât look at me like that â Iâd planned to tell you today, I had a whole thing written out, but last night, you⊠I donât know, you were drunk so maybe I shouldnât have put so much weight to your words, but it sounded like you might like me back? And I couldnât stop myself. I had to tell you immediately. And today⊠Iâm not mistaken, right? You do like me?â
Tears prickle at your eyes. To think that this has been on his mind for so long, that youâre the reason behind the worried look on his face, that heâs the one asking for your confirmationâyou can hardly make sense of it all. If only youâd looked closer, if youâd been less scared, you mightâve been wearing this exact same outfit, laying in this exact same place, ten years earlier. This isnât to say that you arenât scared anymoreâyouâre terrified out of your wits. But looking into Jaeyunâs face, you donât need to search very long to find reassurance.
âI do, Yun. I really, really do.â
He only stares back at you for a few beats, as if waiting for you to change your mind, to tell him youâre joking. When you donât, his mouth breaks into a wide, radiant smile, and he lets himself fall on his back, hands coming up to hide his face.Â
Suddenly, you realize how real this is. How genuine Jaeyun is. It isnât a cruel prank heâs decided to play on you, but the truth of what he feels for you. For what must be the first time since last night, you let yourself react the way any sane person would upon finding out the person theyâve loved for years loves them back: youâre happy. Unbelievably, indescribably happy. And itâs terrifying when you know this happiness might be ripped from your hands at any momentâbut youâll worry about that later. Right now, all you see is the man laying next to you, his smile full of light, his sweet, glimmering eyes. A small tear escapes your eye at the same time as a chuckle leaves your throat.
He returns to his previous position, grinning down at you while he rests his upper body on his elbow. âOkay, this is totally cool. Iâm not freaking out at all,â he says, making you laugh. His smile widens. He picks a daisy from the ground, reaches for your hand. Tying the stem around your ring finger, he says, âI wanted to tell you this today, in our school uniforms, as a way to get justice for my teenager self. I know itâs silly, but I feel like Iâm only able to do this because he liked you so much.âÂ
But it isnât silly at all. Itâs the nicest, most romantic thing anyone has ever done for you.
He takes a deep breath, looks up from where your hand rests in his, to your eyes. âI love you, Y/N. Iâm sorry it took me so long to tell you. And I canât explain to you how happy I am that I still have a chance after all this time.â
Itâs not a singular tear rolling down your face anymore, itâs the whole waterworks threatening to explode the longer Jaeyun looks at you with those eyes, so tender and full of affection. You roll onto your side, resting your forehead against his shoulder so he canât see your faceâitâs enough that he can hear your sniffling, that he can feel your shoulders shake against him, especially as he wraps an arm around your waist to bring you closer. Your feelings overwhelm youâyou want to cry, to laugh, to hold him as tight as you can, to run away and stop him from witnessing how vulnerable he makes you. With his free hand, he pets your hair, saying he hopes these are happy tears.
âTheyâre very, very happy tears,â you reply between sobs. You probably sound ridiculous, but Jaeyun doesnât seem to mind, holding you through it all.
âGood,â he whispers.
Itâs a shame that it took you this long to realize you forgot something you shouldnât ever haveâthat people are the most important. Not relying on the ones you love doesnât make you strong, it makes you a fool.Â
Jaeyunâs presence is reassuring, familiar, and you picture a life in which you lean on his shoulder and cry when you need to. In which you hold him tight and share every moment with him, not just the happy ones. It sounds so much better than what youâve been doing for the past ten years. He smiles at you, and youâre flooded with the relief and gratitude that this is the life he wants, too.
For a while, he just holds you, the sun shining down on your bodies. This is what you were so fearful ofâJaeyunâs familiar scent enveloping you, his hand rubbing reassuring circles against your back, his hair soft in your hands. Eventually, he says, voice just loud enough for you to hear, âLater, will you talk to me? Will you tell me why you drifted from me?âÂ
Thereâs no anger in his tone, no admonition. Guilt still pangs in your stomach, but thatâs only because you know how badly he deserves an explanation, and because youâre amazed that even now, heâs so patient and understanding with you. âI will,â you reply.
You donât know how long you stay there, laughing at Jaeyunâs anecdotes of all the ways he tried to show you he liked you. All the times he ran home in the rain because you didnât bring an umbrella, all the fish cakes he sacrificed because they were your favorite part of tteokbokki, all the pocket money he spent on your favorite snacks.Â
âI thought about you so often once you left,â he says. âI worried so much. If you were eating well, if you were making new friends at university. Then if your job was treating you well. I wanted to call you all the time, but I didnât want to annoy you. I thought you were moving on, and that maybe I should too. But I never was able to.â
Youâre a little bashful as you tell him that you never did, either. âI compared all the guys I dated to you. And they were never as nice, as thoughtful, asââ
âAs handsome, as smart, as amazing as me, I get it, donât worry,â he teases, and you swat his shoulder lightly.Â
âObviously, but you donât need to be so smug about it.â
âIf youâre going to tell me none of your little boyfriends measured up to me, of course Iâm going to be smug about it, are you kidding me? This is the best news Iâve received in my life.â
You only realize how long youâve been lying there when your phone dings with a text from your aunt, asking whether youâll be home for dinner. Itâs almost seven p.m. alreadyâthe two of you spent three hours, just talking and laughing. He pouts a little when you tell him you should head home, but he obliges anyway.
When he drops you off at your auntâs house, he comes out of the car with you and hugs you tightly before you head inside. âThank you for this afternoon. Iâll see you tomorrow, yeah?â he says, lips moving against your hair.
You nod and, with a quick peck to his cheek, you bolt for your front door before he can react and try to do something crazy, like properly kiss you.
âWait, before you go,â he says as you grab the door handle. Turning around to look at him, breath catches, thinking heâs going to tell you something important, yet another thing that will change your lifeââCan you tell me about those lame dudes you dated again?â
You roll your eyes, biting back a smile. âGoodbye, Jaeyun.â
âYou love me!â
You smile at him, wide and unabashed.Â
Because you do love him. You really, really do.
.
.
You plop yourself on the couch next to your aunt, the latest Drag Race season playing on the TV. She hands you the bag of caramel popcorn and you grab a handful.Â
âI heard a car,â she says. âDid Jaeyun drop you off? Is that why youâre smiling so much?â
You only now notice the ache in your cheeks. âIâm not smiling that much,â you say, forcing your features into humorlessness, but the corners of your lips keep rising of their own volition.
âYouâre smiling a lot. More than you already usually do with him,â she says, giving you a knowing look.
You gape at her. âDonât tell me you knew too?â
âKnew what? That you and Jaeyun have liked each other since you were teenagers? I mightâve had an inkling, yeah.â
Her grin is wicked as you bury your face in your hands, groaning. âSo it really was everyone but him and me.â
âI think you knew,â she says, her tone gentle. âBut you didnât want to admit it to yourself. Especially in the last few months before you left, youâd always get a look about your face when I mentioned him. You never wanted to say you were sad to be leaving, but it was clear you were, if only because of him.â
You frown. âI was sad to leave you, too. And Chaewon, and Yunjin. And Mrs. Kim, because I knew I wouldnât find better tteokbokki anywhere else.â
She shrugs. âSure. But you were sad to leave Jaeyun in particular.â
You fidget with your hands, letting her words sink in. âAnd I have to leave him again in two days,â you whisper.
She wraps an arm around your shoulder, squeezes it slightly. âBut itâll be different this time around, right?â
DIfferent. Youâll call. Youâll make plans for him to come. Youâll let him into your life, into your heart. Youâll let him break down your walls, brick by brick.
âYeah. It will,â you say quietly, willing your worries to dissipate.
You meet her gaze, and she smiles. Jaeyun is only one of the many people youâve kept at bay for too long now.
âCome on,â she says, getting up from the couch. âIâm making meatball pasta, your favorite.â
âItâs your favorite.â
It was one of the few meals she made on rotation whenever she had time to cookâit is your favorite, only because eating it meant you were spending the evening together. You cut vegetables while she seasons the meat, telling each other about your day. Maybe itâs because youâre in such a wonderful mood from your afternoon with Jaeyun, but the atmosphere between the two of you feels particularly light-hearted today, which is why youâre so surprised when she suddenly tells you you should talk about âwhat happened last time.â Your stomach clenches, but you nodâyou knew it was going to happen sooner or later, so you might as well get over it quickly, and she seems to be of the same opinion.
âI know weâre both bad at this, so Iâll keep it short,â she starts, keeping her eyes on the preparation. You really are cut from the same clothâyou continue chopping carrots, glad to have something to do with your hands. âIâm sorry about those things I said. It was an emotional time for both of us, what with Jaeyunâs grandmother and all, but I shouldnât have let my emotions get the best of me. Itâs my fault we never talked about your parents. About your mom. I know you wouldâve liked to, but I never could. And you do remind me of her. Gosh, you look so much like her at your age. But you canât do anything about that, and what I said about looking at you and seeing her, that wasnât fair. It sounded like I blamed you, which is the last thing I wanted to do.
âShe always took care of me, because she was older than me by so many years, you know. She called herself my second mom. And all of a sudden, it felt like I had to take care of her. Itâs ironic, since my literal job is to take care of people, but I didnât know how to, with you.â
âI didnât make it easy. I barely talked to you,â you say quietly. Itâs true that you canât expect the same maturity from a teenager and a young adult, but thinking back on it, you canât help but think you couldâve been softer on your aunt. More understanding. You wanted her to replace your parents while resenting her for it. You made no effort at communication yet pushed her away every time she made an attempt to talk to you.
âYou were so young, and dealing with all that loss. I shouldâve tried harder, but you seemed so independent, spending all that time with your friends, making yourself dinner when I wasnât home. It felt like you didnât need me, and I have to admit, I was relieved. I was hanging on by a thread. I didnât know how I could take care of a whole other human being.â
Your breathing is shallow. You spent so many years struggling, each of you in your little corner, at armâs length from each other but too scared to reach out a hand.
âIt felt like you didnât want me around,â you whisper, head hanging low.Â
âOh, honey.â She drops her spoon and in a second has you wrapped in her arms, the tightest hug sheâs ever given you, tighter than when you first arrived at her house, tighter than when you first left. âIâm so, so sorry. I was so glad to have you here. Sure, it was a reminder that Iâd lost my sister, but you were a reason to keep going. I had to go to work so you could eat. I had to stay healthy enough to work. You were the only person on this planet that needed me. Iâm sorry I didnât do a better job of it, and that I didnât show you how much I needed you. How much I love you. But I promise that I never, ever wished you werenât with me.â
Itâs impossible to keep the tears at bay at this point. Tears start pouring down your face, and at the sight, her own tears quickly follow suitâyou sob in each other's arms, apologizing over and over again, and by the time youâre done, the meatballs are overcooked and yet the best youâve ever had.
Between Jaeyun this afternoon, and your aunt this evening, today has been a whirlwind of emotionsâwith Chaewonâs wedding tomorrow, youâll probably be drained on your flight back to the city. You have half a mind to take Monday off, just so you can rest from your holiday.Â
For now, youâll rest from today. Youâre exhausted, but it takes a while for sleep to claim youâyour mind is reeling, replaying Jaeyunâs words, the unspoken promises they contain. Your heart is still swelling with hope when you finally fall asleep.
.
.
It takes a few seconds for yesterdayâs events to come back to you after you wake up. It feels like reliving them all over againâJaeyunâs face next to yours on the soccer field, his hand in yours on the drive home, the conversation with your aunt that feels like one of many steps towards the right direction. And to think you dreaded this weekend for months before coming here.
When Jaeyun pulls up in front of your auntâs house, sheâs quicker than either of you, opening the door before heâs even reached it and inviting him in for coffee. You make a quick mental note of his outfit, a matching dark green suit and vest with a white button-up that fit him a little too well, the veins that run along his forearms down to his hands prominent and a debilitating sight if youâve ever seen one. Out of concern for your well-being you put that image immediately out of your headâyou really donât need to know how attractive Jaeyunâs hands are.
While youâre trying to gather yourself, with a wide smile, your aunt stares at him sipping his drink, eyes darting around the room awkwardly. Heâs always been a little nervous around her, which confused you back then, but endears you nowâbefore every party he picked you up for, heâd be overly polite, assuring her heâd get you home early and safe, standing with his back straight in your hallway as he waited for you like someone trying to impress their girlfriendâs father. Sheâd wave him off, telling you you could come home shit-faced at three a.m. as long as you were with âthis guy.â
Itâs so obvious that sheâs over-the-moon about him being her nephew-in-law. When he clears his throat, saying, âIâll take good care of Y/N, I hope you can trust me,â like this is the seventies and he needs to ask her for your hand, she laughs in his face.
âOh, Iâm not worried about you. Itâs her Iâm worried about.â
âAuntie?â
She ignores you, slides her elbows on the table towards Jaeyun in a conspiratorial manner. âListen. She can be very grumpy in the morningââ
âAuntie?!â
âAnd she overthinks everything, even if sheâll never let you know about it. She gets all these crazy ideas about people in her head, so just make sure to talk to her a lot so you know whatâs going on up there. Even if you have to force her.â
Youâre glaring at her by the time sheâs done, but Jaeyunâs delighted. âThank you for the advice. Iâll make sure to remember it.â
âGood. Now, off you two go. Iâll meet you tonight for the party,â she says with one last wink at you, unfazed by your I-will-murder-you expression as she gets up to put the empty mugs in the sink.
In the car, Jaeyun breaks the silence first. âSo, grumpy in the morning, huh?â
âOh my God,â you mutter, bringing a hand to your temple like your head aches. âI liked it better when you were terrified of her.â
Jaeyun laughs, reaching for your hand and resting it on your lap. âItâs okay. Iâll cheer you up every morning like my life depends on it.â You purse your lips to stop them from curving into a smile. It doesnât work. âPlus, I canât imagine youâd be grumpy waking up to this,â he says, pointing to his face.
You roll your eyes. âDonât be so sure of yourself,â you say as though you donât agree with himâseeing him first thing in the morning would surely do wonders for your mood, not just when you wake up, but for the entire day.
You know heâs only teasing you, but you have an unexpected problem to deal with now: thoughts of waking up to Sim Jaeyun, thoughts of being in a bed with Sim Jaeyun, thoughts of what usually happens when two people who love each other share a bed. You gulp. When you look over at him, thereâs only a serene smile on his lips. One day in, and youâre already getting carried away. Heâs probably not even thinking about such things, and you feel guilty about the dull ache in your stomach created by the pictures that your brain is conjuring.
When you arrive at the town hall, youâre greeted by your old friends, standing on the steps in their best clothes. The weather is perfect, the sun shining down warmly but a small breeze stops you from sweating your clothes off. Chaewon and Jaemin decided against staying cooped up in a small room before the ceremonyâthey thought itâd be much nicer to be there to greet their guests, and that getting to be around each other would prevent any last-minute nerves.
A little before eleven, Chaewonâs sister and Jaeminâs siblings, as the bridesmaids and groomsmen, start ushering everyone in. Once youâre seated inside and waiting for the ceremony to start, Jaeyun leans down towards you, and, quietly enough so only you hear him, whispers, âShould we hijack their wedding? They havenât been waiting as long as I have.â
You gasp at his words, lightly swatting his chest while he only grins at you, clearly satisfied with your reaction.
âIâm just kidding,â he says. âThis isnât how Iâm planning on proposing.â
âPlanning onâSim Jaeyun, be serious for a second.â
âWhat?â he asks, feigning an innocent tone even as mischief stays written on his features. âIâm very serious about propoââ
Who knows how his sentence ends, because his words are muffled by the hand you put over his mouth.
The ceremony is beautiful, presided over by Chaewonâs dad, who says that in all his years as mayor of Gimcheon, there isnât a marriage heâs been happier to officiate than todayâs. As Chaewon recites her vows, all you can see is your best friend at fifteen, crying because her favorite idol was embroiled in a dating scandal; at seventeen, making vision boards out of her momâs old wedding magazines; at twenty-two, giggling on the phone because, âDid you know Na Jaemin has had a serious glow-up since high school?â
At twenty-five, telling you she hopes youâll find the person who makes you as happy as Jaemin makes her.Â
Jaeyunâs hand stays in yours the entire time. You feel him glancing over you a few times, but youâre too scared that if you meet his eyes, youâll break down crying, and youâve done enough of that to last you a few weeks.
There are many pictures to be taken outside of the town hall, plus the bouquet toss â when Giselle catches it, Jenoâs face turns crimson â so itâs a while before you can all start heading to the cottage that Chaewonâs and Jaeminâs family have rented out for the occasion, for extended family and friends who couldnât be lodged at someoneâs house to stay in. For lunch, the caterer has prepared a large cold buffet with everything from thin slices of meat to charcuterie boards and three types of potato salad.
Itâs a really idyllic place theyâve chosen, especially in the middle of Julyâthe flowers are in full bloom, climbing cream and pink roses spilling over metal trellises, the scent of lavender bushes wafting delicately through the air. Chairs and tables covered in white drapes are neatly set around the garden and huge ribbons made of alabaster-colored gaze decorate a large oak tree.Â
You know from a phone call with Chaewon that as hands-on as she was with the wedding preparations, there was one thing that hadnât been up to her to organizeâthe afternoon activity, between lunch with family and close friends and dinner with a larger number of guests. Jaeminâs sisters had told her theyâd take care of it. âBut theyâre the kind of people who give people missions to do at parties,â she complained. âI once had to win at rock-paper-scissors with three total strangers.â
âBut no oneâs forcing you to participate,â you said.
âIt was a question of pride,â she replied, firm. âI had to make a good impression.â
You can see the relief flood over Chaewonâs features when they announce that theyâve planned a scavenger hunt for this afternoon, and that those who donât wish to partake can hang back and have a rest. The groups are assigned randomly, so youâre separated from Jaeyun, but your teammates are friendlyâJaeminâs great-aunt and Chaewon seven-year-old little cousin make for a surprisingly comedic duo, and you and Giselle, who you can confirm once and for all is much cooler than her boyfriend Jeno, spend the whole time cracking up at their antics.
Jaeminâs sisters have created a list of clues to guide you to different places around the venue, where you need to complete little tasksâeach team starts out with a different clue, and is guided around by the new clues they find at each spot. In the guest book by the entrance, you each describe a memory you share with the bride or groom; by the lily pond, the four of you take a polaroid picture as a keepsake for the newlyweds; behind the bar, thereâs a corkboard on which you can tack heart-shaped pieces of paper and write down your predictions for their marriage. You write down that theyâll have 3 under 3, and Chaewonâs cousin writes that theyâll get to drink milkshakes for breakfastâwhen you ask him what thatâs about, he says that his mom said only adults are allowed milkshakes for breakfast, âand adults are usually married, so maybe thatâs what theyâll do.â
You arrive in fifth place, so you only win a piece of candy eachâbut when you find Jaeyun again, he tells you gloatingly that heâll share his third-place box of chocolates with you. Slowly after that, more guests start arriving, including your aunt. The main room opens up, and you see just how much effort Chaewon has put into all of thisâitâs straight from her Pinterest board, with white roses in the center of every table, tulle curtains draped over the windows, and fairy lights adorning the walls. Candied almonds in small white bags, with a tag that reads C+J, rest on every plate as gifts for the guests. The cottage was the perfect choice for the reception, with its wooden panels that contrast against the cream-colored decorations. Theyâve hired Beomgyu, an old high school friend of yours, as their DJ, and for now, as heâs setting up his station, a relaxed R&B playlist drifts quietly through the speakers.
Youâre seated between Yunjin and Jaeyun. You mingle at first, champagne glass in hand as you catch up with Chaewonâs mom, at whose house you spent so many of your teenage hours. She has stars in her eyes, telling you how happy she is for your daughter, and when she asks whether thereâs a lucky man in your life, you canât help but glance at Jaeyun, whoâs talking with Mrs. Lee, one of his old elementary school teachers, Chaewonâs colleague now. She follows your gaze and exclaims in delight. âChaewon always said you two would end up together! Well, better late than never,â she says with a wink. Someone calls her name then, and youâre left to process her words.
Considering Yunjin and your aunt had you figured it out, it isnât so surprising that Chaewon wouldâve long been aware of your and Jaeyunâs feelings for each otherâwhatâs taking you aback is the fact she never said anything. She teased you just as much as your classmates did, and she did ask you a couple of times if you really didnât feel anything for him (which you always adamantly declined, and you understand now that that mustâve only made her only more suspicious of you), but she never pushed any further. Her words from a few days earlier suddenly come back to youââI promise you someone is out there. Maybe closer than you think.â
You make a mental note to find a minute alone with her tonight, and congratulate her for being much smarter and perceptive than you ever were.
The appetizers start rolling outâJaeyun is still so engrossed in his conversation with Mrs. Lee that you go ahead and make him a plate with a little bit of everything. When you hand it to him, he looks at you like youâve just handed him a million bucks. After you go back to your seat, you often feel him or Mrs. Lee glancing your way, and you have an inkling of what they might be talking about.
Before the main course, the parents give their speeches togetherâJaeminâs share embarrassing anecdotes of their son and thank Chaewon for taking him off their hands; Chaewonâs mom is so emotional throughout her speech that her husband has to take over her parts.Â
The atmosphere at your table during dinner is great, and itâs very entertaining to see the champagne start to get to everyoneâs headsâyouâve only had a couple glasses, and Jaeyun is driving later, so youâre both sober watching your friends exaggerate everything they say and laugh over nothing much. When youâre done eating, his hand often finds yours underneath the table, and it never fails to make your insides feel pleasantly warm.Â
After dinner, the music suddenly shuts off for a few seconds, before Canât Help Falling In Love by Elvis Presley, the song for Chaewonâs parentsâ first dance at their own wedding, which she wanted to turn into a tradition. Everyone watches the couple gently swaying around the dance floor. They look at each other as though they are the only people in this entire room; on this entire planet. After a minute, other couples start joining them; when Jaeyun stands up and offers you his hand, you donât even hesitate for a second.
You feel a little shy, standing before him and looking into his eyes, so you rest your head on his chest instead, letting him hold you close to him and guide you around the dance floor, one arm around your waist, holding your hand in his free one.
âThank you for waiting for me,â you say, lifting your face a little so he can hear you.
He bends down towards you, his lips grazing your forehead as he speaks. âThank you, too, angel.â The nickname is unexpected, and makes your heart skip a beat. When he presses his lips to the top of your head, you think that if this wasnât your best friendâs wedding, you might be debating the ethics of leaving before dessertâs been served. âI promise Iâll make you happy,â he whispers.
âYou already are.â You wish you could live in the way he gazes down at you, eyes warm and full of adoration. âYou make me feel like a teenager. Like Iâm still the sixteen-year-old who got giddy at the thought of seeing you at school every morning.â
âIs that right?â he asks, smile turning a little smug. You like nervous, bashful Jaeyun betterâthis Jaeyun, the intensity of his gaze as it trails down your face until it reaches your lips, the feeling of his thumb roving across your waist, makes you want to curl up and hide your face in the crook of his neck. He makes your knees weak and your breath shaky.
You stop yourself from looking away, eyes set on his as you nod your head.
âThatâs funny, because Iâm very aware that weâre not teenagers anymore,â he says.
You donât ask what he means by that, and he doesnât offer an explanation, so youâre left to ponder his words on your ownâalthough the tone with which he spoke, teasing and enticing, canât leave you with much room for interpretation.
But just as your eyes drift down to his lips, and you swear he leans a fraction of the way in, the song is over. You step back from him a second after every couple has separated, turning towards the newlyweds and clapping for them.Â
Itâs back to 2010s pop after that, and he doesnât let you go back to your seatâthe rest of your friends quickly join you anyway, and even you canât say no to jumping around and screaming the lyrics when itâs Lady Gaga and Black Eyed Peas playing. Jaeyun makes you spin around, his hands firm on your hips during more sensual songs, his worst (or best, if you ask him) moves on display whenever a song calls for it, and you canât stop laughing.Â
You need a large drink of water eventually, and take the opportunity to look for Chaewon. You find her at the dessert buffet, stacking mini brownies on her plate. She looks startled when you call her name. âThese arenât all for me,â she says quickly.
âIâm not judging,â you say, smiling.
âOkay, good, âcause theyâre definitely all for me. I barely ate all night âcause I was so nervous and Iâm famished now.â
You laugh and get a plate, filling it with more food for her before leading her to your presently unoccupied table. âThank you,â she says with an exaggerated sigh as she plops down on Yunjinâs chair. âI love my family, but theyâve been taking up all of my attention. I just wanna come dance with you guys.â
âWeâll join them in a bit. Can I just tell you something first?â
She tilts her head at you, her smile like she already knows what youâre about to say. âOf course. And,â she says, taking your hands in hers, âIâve got something to ask you, too. But you go first.â
You surprise yourself with how easily the words come to youâno hesitation over how to phrase it, no nervousness. They feel so natural, rolling off your tongue. âMe and Jaeyun are together.â
She squeals, immediately throwing her arms around you. âI knew it! Finally! It took you guys so long, I was so close to intervening and playing Cupid myself. Oh, Y/N!â she exclaims, bringing you into another hug, not letting you place a word. âLove is in the air. You know, I think knowing Jae and I were getting married mightâve been the trigger for Jaeyun. When he told me he wanted to confess to you over this weekend, I was ecstatic. You can basically thank me for having a boyfriend.â
You laugh. âThank you, Chaewon. Youâve known all along, havenât you?âÂ
She nods proudly. âIt was always so obvious. Jaeyun told me a few months after high school ended, but youââ She points an accusing finger at you. âYou never did! But you tried too hard to pretend like you were indifferent when I mentioned him on the phone.â
You look down at the floor, feeling a little guilty, a little shy. âI could barely admit it to myself, let alone to anyone else. And I was so, so scared, Chae. Even nowâŠâ You look longingly over at the dance floor, where Jaeyun is clearly having the time of his life, throwing his limbs around with Heeseung and Jenoâwhen he meets your eyes, he waves happily, then returns to what seems to be an attempt at the robot. You sigh. âItâs not like I change my ways overnight, can I? Being so far from him, I donât knowâŠâ
âDonât think about that right now,â Chaewon says, commanding your attention back to her. âJust enjoy it. Itâs what both of you deserve. When you run into a problem, youâll figure it out together. Heâs waited this long, I promise you itâs not a little distance thatâll drive him away now.â
You nod. âOkay. Youâre right.â
âOf course I am. Now, I have some news to share too. And itâs our secret, okay?â
Excited, you shift forward on your chair, inching closer to her. âOkay.â
She gazes downward with a smile, lets go of one of your hands to rest on her stomach. Your mouth falls open, and when she looks back up at you, her eyes shiny, you immediately feel yours start to burn. âIf you say yes, Y/N, youâll be a godmother soon.â
âOh my God, Chae,â you whisper, tears already pooling in your eyes.
She giggles. âJaeyunâs already agreed to be the godfather, so it only makes more sense now, doesnât it? And yes, before you ask, Iâm absolutely using my unborn child as emotional blackmail to get you to call and visit more often. And Iâll be coming to see you in the city and make you take me around cute baby shops and buy me all the food I want.
âOh my God, Chae. Youâre having a whole baby,â you whisper, incredulous. Your heads lean in towards each other, almost bumping as you laugh.
âI know, right? We wanted to wait until our honeymoon was over to start trying, but⊠Well, Iâll spare you the details, but weâve never gone at it so much since getting engagedââ
âAlright.â
âSo, what do you say?â she asks, a hopeful expression on her face.
You squeeze her hands. âHow could I say anything but yes? Of course Iâll be your kidâs godmother. Iâm so honored that youâre asking me, when I havenât been an ideal friend.â
She shakes her head. âDonât. We understand you, Y/N, more than I think you give us credit for. And I trust you to make up for it now, okay?â
You nod, tears freely streaming down your cheeks now. âI will. I absolutely will. I love you so much, Chae. Iâm so happy for you.â
Her laugh is the prettiest sound to your ears. âI love you too, Y/N.â
She leans back, takes a deep breath as she wipes her tears. âIs my makeup okay?â When you nod, she gets up and says, âOkay. To the dance floor!â
Now that theyâve gone through every step and are reassured that their wedding couldnât have gone more smoothly, Jaemin and Chaewon let it all out on the dance floor. What starts out as a pretty big crowd, a large portion of the guests up and dancing, fizzles out as the hour grows late. The more elderly relatives have long retired, and it isnât long before the older adults leave, too, finding their children asleep on random chairs and dragging them out of the venue. Soon, the population on the dance floor is more or less constituted of your high school friends and Chaewonâs and Jaeminâs cousins of your age. When Beomgyu starts to play slower songs around the three a.m. mark, you canât believe itâs this late already. You were having so much fun you had no idea so much time had passed.
The catering crew has cleared the tables and packed away all their silver- and dinnerware, and your friends, in their drunken state, offer to wipe the floors and take the decorations down, but Chaewon and Jaemin shoo them off, assuring them that theyâll be taking care of it with their families in the morning.
You have to admit, now that the energyâs gone down, you start to feel yourself ready for bed, your feet aching from overuse, even though you took your high heels off hours ago to dance with more ease. It doesnât help that Jaeyun stays right behind you as everyone starts heading off, his hand low and casual on your hip as you wave them all goodbye and promise to stay in touch. He only hangs back when you have to say goodbye to Chaewonâyour flight is around noon tomorrow, so you wonât have time to see her again.
Hugging her tight, you tell her again how beautiful she looked tonight and how happy you are for her. You wish her and Jaemin a happy honeymoon, and she winks back, telling you to have fun, too. âBut safe fun!â she yells as you and Jaeyun start making your way to his car. âI love you but youâre not stealing my babyâs spotlight!â
Jaeyun is still laughing as he gets in the driverâs seat, while youâre flooded with embarrassment. âSo she told you, then?â he asks.
âYeah.â
âWeâre gonna be godparents,â he says, grinning. âSome might say weâre moving a little fast, but I think itâs right.â
Youâre smiling impossibly wide. âYouâre stupid.â
âAnd youâre pretty,â he replies, brushing his knuckle along your jaw. Itâs an innocent touch, but just like that, the dull ache in your stomach reappearsâmaybe itâs his proximity all night, all tension and no release, or the fact that itâs the two of you in pure darkness on this late night road, or Chaewonâs comment ringing in your head, but you suddenly find yourself craving for a lot more than an innocent touch. As though he can read your mind, Jaeyun clears his throat. âDo you, um, do you want to go back to mine?â he asks, eyes going back-and-forth between you and the road as though not wanting to miss your reaction.
âYeah,â you whisper. The air conditioning is on full blast, yet your skin is on fire. âYeah. Iâd like that.â
âOkay.â
Youâre silent for the rest of the car ride, mind racing with possibility. Jaeyunâs hand trembles ever so slightly in yours, like he can barely restrain himself, and you agree that the twenty minutes to his apartment are the longest youâve ever had to endure. You play with his fingers, hoping the gesture will be calming to both of you, but the feeling of his skin against yours only makes your heart race faster.
His apartment is on the first floor of a small building in the center of Gimcheon. He leads you up the stairs, fingers intertwined with yours, only letting go to open his door. âLayla will be excited to meet you,â he says as he turns the keyâindeed, youâre greeted warmly by the cream-colored Border Collie. She seems much happier to meet someone new than to see her boring old owner, who notices this with a frown, huffing something about âbetrayalâ and âyour own kidsâŠâ as Layla licks your hands and presents her belly for pets.
âI should probably walk her quickly, she hasnât been out since this morning,â Jaeyun says, an endeared smile on his face as he watches the two of you get acquainted.
âShould I come with?â
Crouching beside you, he shakes his head. âI know youâre tired, angel. Iâll just be ten minutes, you can wash up in the meantime.â
You follow him into the bathroom, where he hands you a towel and tells you to help yourself to anything you need. âWait here a minute,â he says, then disappears into his bedroom, coming back with clean clothes for you to wear. Heâs sheepish as he rests them on the sink counter, a small smile playing on his lips. âHere. They might be a bit big, but more comfortable than your dress.â
âThanks, Yun.â
âNo worries.â He hesitates for a second, then presses a quick kiss to your temple. âIâll be quick.â
Even after he leaves, the smile on your lips is wide and unwavering, your heartbeat fast, your fingers twitchy and impatient. You find lotion to wipe your makeup off with, and have far too much fun analyzing all of his shower products as the hot water runs over your body. You can hardly keep your giddiness in check at the thought of washing yourself with Jaeyunâs soap, drying yourself with his towel, then wearing his clothes and finding yourself enveloped with the delicate floral scent of his laundry detergent. He gave you a navy t-shirt with the logo of his familyâs business on the front and a pair of basketball shorts that reach your knees, and that you have to tie very tightly at your hips so it stays up. You canât help but admire yourself in the mirror, for some reason feeling more like a girlfriend than ever before in your life.
When you hear the front door open, you come out to meet him in his living room. As Layla trots over to her bed, he stops for a second when he sees you, mouth slightly agape as his eyes rake your body. You feel shy under his gaze, but surprise yourself by also revelling in the attention, in the way his desire is so evident in his gaze, in the smirk that grows on his lips as he crosses the distance to you.
âNice walk?â you ask.
âYeah. You look good,â he says, hands finding your hips, shameless in the way he looks down at you now.
In the shower, you were so preoccupied with simply being here that you didnât spare a thought for what would happen nextânow, under the intensity of Jaeyunâs gaze and the effect of his proximity, you feel unprepared, completely at a loss for what to do with yourself.
Itâs lucky for you that Jaeyun, on the other hand, seems to know exactly what he wants to do with you.
âCan I kiss you?â he asks, voice low and gravelly unlike youâve ever heard it before, and it sends shivers down your spines. You donât trust your voice to work properly, so you nod your assent instead.
Seconds pass like eternity between his question and the moment his lips actually touch your lips. One of his hands leaves your hips to find your chin instead, raising it a little with his thumb so your face is perfectly angled towards his. His touch is gentle, more of a request than a demand, and you crave to melt into it, to let him lead you wherever he wants you.
His lips meet yours, delicate and cautious, like he doesnât want to scare you off. They move languidly against each other, giving you the time you need to adapt to this without being overwhelmed. You raise your arms and wrap them around his neck while his hand sneaks its way to your lower back, pushing you gently closer towards him, your chest now flush to his. Fire courses through your veins as his tongue meets yours, deepening the kiss and making your thoughts hazy, incoherent, unimportant.
You never dreamed it would be this easy. One kiss, and itâs like a faucetâs opened up inside you, all the desire and want and longing that youâve kept trapped inside pouring out of you boundlessly. You wouldnât know how to control it if you had toâand thankfully, Jaeyun doesnât seem to want you to. He meets you right where you are, holding onto you just as tightly as you are onto him, moaning shamelessly when your fingers tug sharply at his hair, his head thrown back as you pepper his throat with wet, messy kisses.Â
His mouth doesnât leave yours as he walks you to his bedroom. Only when he sits down on his bed do you get a glimpse of his expressionâthe lust-blown pupils, the reddened cheeks, the lips plump and shiny with saliva. His hands are practically on your ass as he brings you down towards him, helping you into a straddling position on his lap. He presses kisses to your cheek, your jawline, then, resting his forehead against yours, asks with a throaty voice, âYouâre okay with this?â
You smile, wrap your arms tighter around his neck. âIâm definitely okay with this.â
âGood,â he replies, then wastes no time pressing his lips back to yours.
Years of repressed feelings come out in this kissâthat much is clear in its desperation, in the way you both grab onto whatever parts of the other you can reach, like you want to tether yourselves to each other. When you break apart for air, Jaeyun whispers in your ear how long heâs wanted to do this, lips brushing against your skin as he speaks, making you shake lightly in his hold. The longer you kiss, the weaker the resistance in your thighs grows, and you soon find yourself sitting right on his lap, his bulge hard and demanding attention beneath you. His grip on your hips tightens, but itâs the only sign he gives you of being affectedâonly when you roll your hips experimentally against his does he let out a loud moan right into your mouth, which you take as a green light to keep going.Â
You push him down onto the mattress, practically laying on top of him as you grind yourself against him, a small whimper leaving your throat every time his erection rubs perfectly against your clit through your shared layers of clothing. Heâs still wearing his wedding outfit, and when his hands leave your body to unbutton his shirt, you waste no time in helping him, untucking his shirt from his trousers, unbuckling his belt. He chuckles at your eagerness, but you canât bring yourself to feel even a little embarrassedâyou donât think youâve ever desired anything this badly, and itâs messing with your head. Jaeyun looks at you like he could eat you right up, so you decide thereâs no use in hiding your appetite from him.
His hands slip underneath your t-shirt, and your skin blazes with the heat of his touch. They trail up your sides, nails briefly grazing your waist and back before they find your breasts. He gently rubs one of your nipples between his fingers, and Jaeyun curses when you release a moan in the crook of his neck, pressing your crotch against his with more urgency than before. âDoes that feel good, baby?â he asks, voice breathy as you squirm under his touch.
âYes, Yun.â
He hums in satisfaction, one hand on your ass to guide your movements against him, the other alternating between your breasts to pay them equal attention, lips never relenting in their quest to leave no inch of your neck unkissed.Â
Itâs too much and too little at once. A familiar coil tightens in your stomach, and you canât believe youâre already this close to coming undone from thisâevery man youâve slept with before has had to put in a lot more work to get you even near the edge. But with Jaeyun, all it takes is a few minutes of heavy petting and his voice in your ears, telling you how well youâre doing for him, how pretty you look using him to get yourself off.
âThatâs it, baby,â he coos as your moans get louder, your movements more erratic. âIâve got you. Let it go for me.â Itâs all you need for your orgasm to wash over you and leave you a trembling mess in his arms, his hold around your waist tight as he kisses your temple and shushes you gently.Â
When youâve calmed down somewhat, he helps you onto your back, shifting so that your head rests on his pillows. Now that youâve regained your senses, the reality of what youâve done, what youâre doing hits you. Resting on his elbow, Jaeyun gazes down at you fondly, and although you wouldâve reveled in it mere moments ago, the intensity of his attention now only brings heat to your face. You canât quite meet his eyes, a small, bashful smile playing on your lips as you play with the lapels of shirt collar. He must sense this shift in your demeanor, and asks, âDo you wanna keep going?â
Lust pangs low in your stomach. You force yourself to look into his eyes, giving him an almost imperceptible nod. His desire is so obvious on him, and truth be told, you hadnât even thought you might stop here when he still needs taking care of. The smile on his lips grows, but when you reach out to touch his erection, he tilts his head, grabbing your wrist and laying it back down next to your body. âI didnât say I was done with you, baby,â he purrs, leaning down to kiss your neck, one hand slipping under your t-shirt again.Â
âButââ
âIâve waited so long, angel. Dreamed about having you like this so many times. So be patient and give me this much, hm?â
You release a shaky breath. How can you say no when he makes it sound like letting him make you feel good is doing him a favor, and not you? âOkay.â
âThank you, angel. Help me with this?â he asks gently, lifting his t-shirt youâre wearing over your head. Youâd feel shy at lying half-naked underneath him if it wasnât for the way he admired you, like an art lover in front of their favorite painting. âSo fucking perfect,â he mutters, leaving a trail of kisses down your throat until he reaches your breasts. âCanât believe youâve been keeping this from me all this time.â
âIâm sorry, Yun.â Youâre already squirming at this touch, body screaming for more than the feather-like kisses he presses to your skin.
âNo, no, baby. Donât apologize. Iâd do it all over again, knowing Iâd get to see you like this in the end. So perfect,â he repeats, and before you can reply, he wraps his lips around your nipple, tongue darting out to lick at the sensitive bud. Your back arches off his bed, but with a firm hand to your stomach, he stops you from writhing away from his touch.Â
He seems to be content with doing this for minutes on end, lips alternating between your nipples, fingers tending to the neglected one, teeth sometimes gently nibbling at your skin, leaving behind small marks on the sides of your breasts. âThere, now you canât forget me,â he says with a self-satisfied smirk when he leans back to admire his work.
âAs if I could,â you whisper back, hands finding purchase in his hair as you bring him back towards you and kiss him.
But soon enough, another part of your body starts burning from lack of attention, but even as you buck your hips towards him to signal what you need, he doesnât noticeâor doesnât care. âYunâŠâ you eventually whine, hoping heâll understand what it is you want from this one word.
âWhatâs wrong, baby? You need something?â he asks, faking an innocent tone.
So he does knowâhe just doesnât want to give it to you so easily. Itâs too bad for you that youâre famously bad at asking for what you need.
You opt instead for grabbing his hand and leading it down to your coreâsurely, thatâs enough of a message. He cups you over your shorts, and your thighs clasp around his wrist, instinctively attempting to create more friction. His hand slips below your waistband, and he groans, forehead falling against your shoulder, when he finds your lack of underwear there. He has direct access to your folds, and he wastes no time sliding two of his fingers there, humming in appreciation. âSo wet,â he mumbles, seemingly more to himself than to you.Â
âPlease, Yun,â you plead, voice almost a winceâand it is in a way painful, having him so close to where you need.
âIâm here, angel. Iâll give you what you want.â And indeed, the next second, the pads of his fingers are on your clit, rubbing torturously slow circles onto it. On the pillow, your head falls to the side in your search for more proximity with himâyou feel his laboured breathing against your face, and you shift your body closer to him, worming one of your legs between his. As though this is getting to his head as much as yours, heâs silent for a while, his fingers gathering speed on your clit, occasionally sliding down your folds and inside of you. They go so much deeper than yours can, brushing against that spot that has your nails digging into his skin. But as he brings you closer and closer to the edge, you find yourself not wanting to fall right away, at least not like this.
âYunâŠâ you breathe out, wrapping your fingers around his wrist. He stops immediately, raising his head to look at you with unnecessary concern, making your heart soften for him.
âAre you okay? Did I hurt you?â
âNo, no, I justâŠâ
You squirm uncomfortably beneath him, and his expression shiftsâdamn him for understanding so quickly what youâre too shy to say. âYou justâŠâ he trails, smug. Resuming his kisses along your throat, he says, âTell me, baby.â
âYou know,â you huff. He laughs against your skin, and even in your annoyance, the melodic sound makes your heart skip a beat.
âHm, but Iâd rather you tell me.â
You hesitate for a few seconds. Your hand finds his bulge again, and this time, he doesnât stop you. You know he wants this as badly as you do, but if telling him is what he needs, then youâll have to comply. âI needâI wantâI want to come on your dick, Jaeyun, please,â you say, forcing out the words as quickly as you can, face burning in embarrassment.
He freezes. You hear his breathing get louder, more rugged, and itâs a few seconds before he raises himself onto his elbows, fingers at your waistband, dragging your shorts down. The smugness has all but left his features, leaving behind something like sternnessâfurrowed eyebrows, dark eyes, tight jaw. As he lifts over his head the white sleeveless tee he was wearing beneath his button-up, your hands make clumsy work of his trousers, pulling them down his thighs along with his underwear. His cock springs free, tip an angry-looking red, already leaking precum, and you wonder at the self-restraint he mustâve been exercising this entire timeâitâs clearly stronger than yours.Â
You wrap a hand around the base, transfixed by the sight, and he groans. You pump him a few times, reveling in the small moans that leave his mouth, muffled in the crook of your neck, and in the way his fingers dig into the skin of your hips. He doesnât let it go on for very long, soon leaning away from you and towards his bedside table. âLet me get a condom, baby,â he says, voice shaky.Â
âIâm on the pill. You donât need to wear one.â His head snaps back towards you, eyes wide like a kid on Christmas day.
âAre you sure?â he asks, but heâs already coming back towards you, elbows on each side of your face, peppering the side of your face with kisses.
You wrap your hand around his dick again, letting his tip graze your clit before lining it with your entrance. âYeah, I am.â
He releases a shaky breath, finding your hand and intertwining his fingers with yours before he finally pushes inside of you, slowly filling you up until he bottoms out. Slick from your previous orgasm and relaxed from his fingers, you accommodate him easily, only needing a few seconds before youâre already bucking up your hips against him, asking for more. For once, Jaeyun doesnât tease youâhe obliges instantly, pushing into you with slow, precise thrusts that have the coil tightening again in your stomach with embarrassing quickness. It doesnât help that Jaeyun groans right into your ear, whispering curses, muttering about how good you feel around him, âLike you were made for me, baby.â
His free hand slides beneath your thigh and lifts it up to rest it against his hipâthis new angle allows him to go deeper, to hit that sensitive spot with every one of his thrusts. As his movements gather speed, you feel yourself inching closer and closer to your orgasm, and when it finally hits, your nails dig into the skin of his bicep, you throw your head back, and you let the pleasure wash over you, your brain going haywire, a loud moan escaping your mouth.
Jaeyun takes the opportunity to latch his lips to your throat, biting and sucking at the skin there, surely leaving yet another mark for you to find in the morning. Youâre holding onto him like you might float away if you donât, thighs shaking as overstimulation starts to set inâand yet, when he asks with a low, gruff voice whether you can handle some more, you find yourself nodding vigorously, ready to take whatever he gives you.
âThatâs my girl.â
He slips out of you and you whine at the loss. But he quickly fills you up again, first turning you onto your side as he spoons you from behind, lifting your thigh to grant him better access and pushing into you again with no hesitation. In this position, heâs able to snake an arm around you and play with your clit, making you throw your head back against his shoulder. His pace is gentle at first, as are the kisses he presses to the side of your neck and to your shoulder as he lets you adjust to this new, deeper angle. But it doesnât take long for his rhythm to quicken as he seems to be nearing release himselfâhis thrusts get sloppier, harsher, the sounds he makes more desperate.
You didnât think itâd be possible, but between his fingers on your clit, his dick deep inside you, and his filthy words in your ears, a chasm opens within you once more and you find yourself barrelling towards it at alarming speed. With a few final hard thrusts and the feeling of Jaeyunâs release filling you to the brim, you come undone for the third time tonight, your throat tight and scratchy from moaning so much.
Jaeyun stills inside of you. Without sliding out, he wraps an arm around your middle and brings you closer to him, his hold tight and reassuring. His chest is flush against your back and you feel it rise and fall with each of his breaths; your breathing slowly evens out, eventually matching the rhythm of his. With his fingertips, he draws unintelligible patterns across the skin of your stomach and waist. Tiredness makes your limbs heavy like they could sink right into his mattress. You must be mere seconds away from sleep when you feel him slip out of you. You roll onto your back as he grabs a tissue from his bedside table, cleaning you up gently as he presses a kiss to your temple. âHow do you feel?â he asks. âDo you need anything? Some water? A shower?â
You rest an arm around his waist and wiggle closer to him. âJust you,â you say.
âI can give you that. Easy,â he says, the smile audible in his voice.
.
.
You wake up a few times during the night, unaccustomed to sharing a bed with someone elseâand not just anyone at that, but Jaeyun, whose warm body you find yourself shifting closer to whenever you regain half-consciousness and realize youâre not in his arms anymore. He barely rouses as you nuzzle your face in his neck, an arm coming up to circle your waist to accommodate your body against his. You wish nothing more than to stay like this forever, but unfortunately, your faithful alarm clock rings at nine a.m. and as you reach for your phone to turn it off, Jaeyunâs loose hold on you tightens.
âDonât go yet,â he mumbles, voice muffled against your hair, and his gravelly morning voice sends a shiver right down your spine.
You smile. âIâm not. I can stay ten minutes longer.â
He whines, pulls you in closer to him. Goosebumps appear where his fingers slightly dig into your skin. âThatâs not long enoughâŠâ
âI canât miss my flight, Yun.â
âSure you can,â he says casually, and as he starts to press kisses to your neck, you almost think he might be right. âYou can catch a later one. You can go home next week.â
You hum, lifting your head to grant him better access to your throat, shivering when his teeth graze your sensitive skin. âMy boss might have something to say about that.â
Rolling you onto your back, he drops his forehead on your shoulder with a dramatic sigh. âTen minutes, you said?â he asks, with a roll of his hips so small it could be seen as accidental. But with the way his erection presses into you, thick and firm, you have an inkling it was anything but.
âFifteen if you drive fast,â you say, already starting to get out-of-breath.
âThatâs plenty.â
Neither of you bothered to put on clothes again last night, so he easily slides two fingers between your folds, gathering your slick and trailing them upwards until they reach your clit. He seems satisfied with the wetness he finds there, quickly shifting to fill you up with his dick rather than his fingers. And indeed, fifteen minutes are plentyâin the time it takes for your alarm to ring again, heâs made you come twice, his thrusts deep and precise as though he has a knowledge of your body that dates back years and not a mere day. He releases inside of you with a groan.
It does suck, having to leave so quickly. You wish you could lay in bed with him for hours, take a shower so long it has negative environmental impacts, and have a late, hearty breakfast with him. Unfortunately, you have to speed through everythingâyou need to be at the airport at eleven at the latest, and having not foreseen you wouldnât be spending the night at your aunt, you didnât finish packing before the wedding. He seems to be as aware of this as you are, and although he keeps a smile on his lips at all times, you can see your sadness reflected in his eyes at the thought of having to say goodbye, so soon after finally opening up to each other.
But in a way, you find goodbye easier this time around. As you hug your aunt and thank her for letting you stay â at which she scoffs, saying this will always be as much your house as it is hers â youâre armed with the knowledge that youâre on good terms now, and that youâre not going back to another three years of near radio silence. Itâs not an empty promise that you make her when you tell her youâll be in touch.
Youâve never seen Jaeyun as talkative as on the drive to the airport. He blabbers away, filling every second of silence like his life depends on itâyou donât help him, quiet as can be out of fear of breaking into sobs in the middle of any given sentence. You remind yourself that this goodbye is only temporary, that youâll soon make plans for him to visit, but still, your eyes burn at the thought of going home to an empty apartment and falling asleep in a half-empty bed tonight. He must sense this because he eventually tells you, voice soft and vulnerable, âDonât cry, baby.â
You purse your lips to stop them from trembling, turning away from him so he canât see your frown. âI feel like I already miss you,â you say, so low you wonder if he can even hear you.
âIâll come see you soon. And Iâll text and call you so often every day that you wonât have time to miss me,â he replies, but you can hear it in his tone that he doesnât quite believe what heâs saying, only trying to reassure you, and himself, maybe.
âThatâs impossible,â you mutter. Youâre both silent for the rest of the drive, but his hand in yours is warm, and it does more to comfort you than any words could.Â
He parks at the airport drop-off area and gets your suitcase out of the trunk for you. He wanted to park where he could leave his car longer, and go into the airport with you, but you convinced him that the quicker your goodbye, the better off youâd be. You have the sinking feeling you might burst into tears at any moment, and you donât want his last image of you for the foreseeable future to be one with tears streaming down your cheeks, donât want him to needlessly worry or drive off with a weight on his heart.
He holds you in his arms, hands rubbing reassuring circles on your back. âIâll come up as soon as I can, okay?â he says. âIn less than a month, I promise. Any longer and I might explode.â
You laugh. âI donât want you to explode.â
âNo, thatâd be pretty unfortunate.â
With one final kiss to the pretty lips that youâll be longing for until you see Jaeyun again, you grab the handle of your suitcase and walk towards the entrance of the departures area. âText me when you land, yeah?â he asks.
You nod. âI will.â You just stand there looking at him for a whileâyouâre a bit too sad to appreciate the fact that this is your first openly emotional, tearful goodbye, but part of you basks in knowing the separation isnât hard for you only. âI love you, Yun.â
He smiles, a beautiful mix of sorrow and happiness that you want to commit to memory. âI love you more, angel.â
Every time you turn around, heâs still there leaning against his car, possibly overstaying his time at the drop-off, until youâve walked too far into the airport and canât see him anymore.
.
.
Itâs already dark outside when a text from Minjeong lights up Jaeyunâs phone. Just dropped her off, it says. I tried to stop her from drinking so much, but she said she was going through Jaeyun withdrawals, whatever that means. Anyways sheâs wasted good luck lol
He shakes his head. Heâd be annoyed if he wasnât so excited to see youâheâd told Minjeong to keep you outside for a bit longer after work, not get you drunk. But before he has time to text her back, his phone starts ringing in his hand. Smiling, he picks up, your voice immediately filling his ear.
âJaeyun,â you whine, extending the second vowel for too many secondsâMinjeong wasnât just throwing words around when she said you were wasted. You must be in the elevator by now. He has half a mind to come and get you, just in case youâre stumbling around and pressing the wrong floor numbers, but if Minjeong dropped you off at your building and not your apartment, then you must have some awareness left.
He hopes. Thereâs something important he wants to talk to you about, and heâd rather you were sober for it.
âHi, baby,â he says.
This is apparently the worst thing he could possibly say, sensing as you make a noise halfway between a grunt and a whine. âDonât call me baby when I already miss you this much. Weâve talked about this!â
You definitely havenât. âIâm very sorry,â he says, exaggerating his serious tone, but you donât catch his sarcasm.
âYes, you should be.â The telltale beep of your code being pressed into the keypad breaks the silence of your apartment, and Jaeyunâs heart races with excitement. âIâm coming home now, Minjeong took me to thisââ
Your next words get caught in your throat the moment you step inside your apartment and see him, a few meters away from you in your kitchen. You stay frozen in place, phone still to your ear as he crosses the distance between you, smiling so hard his cheeks ache.
âWelcome home, angel.â
Heâs glad to see you arenât in too much of a wretched state. Even in your wide-gazed surprise, your eyes are a bit clouded over from the alcohol, and you arenât standing quite straight on your feet, but the way Minjeong texted him, he half-expected to find you with vomit on the front of your shirt. He steadies you with a hand to your waist, grabs your wrist gently to bring your arm down now that heâs hung upâand right in front of you.
âYouâre real?â you ask, and when he nods, as though that was all the confirmation you needed, you throw your arms around his neck. âMy Yunie,â you exclaim, voice muffled against his sweatshirt, and he has to bite back his laughter. Even a year and a half into your relationship, thatâs a new one. You still get flustered when a pet name escapes your lips instead of his name. Maybe he should let you get drunk more often.
You suddenly lean back, cupping his face between your palms, eyes slightly narrowed as they drift over every inch of his face, like youâre trying to see whether anythingâs changed. He lets you, a small, endeared smile on his lips, glad for the opportunity to admire you in return.
You press your lips to his, a little more forcefully than you usually would, then rest your head against his chest once more. âWhat are you doing here?â you ask. âDid you know I was missing you extra lately?â
âOf course I did. I always know what youâre thinking.â
âOkay. What am I thinking right now?â
He hums, pretends to think for a little. âThat you love me and are so happy to see me!â
You gasp. âYes! Youâre so smart,â you exclaim, hugging him even tighter.Â
Eventually, he manages to get you out of your coat and shoes, and leads you to the kitchen, where your counter is covered in flour and uncooked, homemade dumplings. He only needs to make a few more until he can start frying them. The rice is already cooked, and a miso and vegetable stew simmers on your stove. You make yourself useful by circling your arms around Jaeyunâs waist, your head resting on his shoulders as you watch him fold dough around a beef galbi filling, your favorite.Â
âDo you wanna go wash up before we eat?â he asks softly, afraid that in your sensitive state, you might take his words the wrong way. But to his surprise, you oblige without a word, giving his cheek a kiss before heading to your bedroom.
When you havenât come back ten minutes later, he goes to check on you, and finds you laying on top of your sheets, feet not even on your mattress but still on your floor like you fell back sitting and just stayed there. Youâve managed to remove your makeup and let down your hair, but you apparently ran out of energy before you could change out of your work clothes. Drool pools at the corner of your open lips.Â
Jaeyunâs heart aches with happiness. Every time he looks at you, even like this â especially like this â all he can think is how badly he wants to spend the rest of his life with you. And with every passing day that you stay with him, that you tell him good morning and good night and I love you, he thinks he might have a shot at it.
He sighs, but thereâs nothing else heâd rather be doing than slipping your trousers and blouse off of your frame and finding a large t-shirt for you to sleep in, then guiding your body underneath your sheets. You wake up once, giggle at yourself, and immediately fall back asleep.
A while later, after heâs cleaned up the kitchen, had a little bit of dinner â on his own, which he knows youâll feel awful about tomorrow â and washed up for bed, he gently closes the door of the bedroom behind him, where youâre still in deep sleep.
So heâll have to wait until the morning to share his news. Itâs alrightâhe has the whole weekend to tell you heâs found the perfect house, not too far from Gimcheon or from Daegu, where your boss has already said you could be transferred. He visited it last week, and in every room, he could picture your future together so perfectly. The kitchen in which heâll make you a late breakfast on lazy Sunday mornings, the room with a beautiful view over a garden that you could turn into an office for your work-from-home days, the bedroom that he could all too well imagine a crib in. Layla could run around in the garden. You could visit your family and friends whenever you wanted. You could be in Seoul in less than two hours with the train if you ever missed it.
Youâve been talking about moving somewhere together for a while now, but heâs still nervous to bring it up. Itâs a huge step, and he can only hope you are as ready as he is to take itâand if you arenât yet, heâll gladly wait for you to be. But as he slips into bed with you, your warm body shifting into his embrace even in sleep, he doubts heâll have to wait long at all. The days of holding back are long goneâever since itâs fully gotten through to you that he wonât ever leave your side if he can help it, youâve opened up to him like never before, let him take care of you like heâs always dreamed of.
He looks down at you and your peaceful sleeping face, his initial dangling on a thin silver chain that youâve worn since you found it again while organizing your jewelry box a few weeks ago. This is enough for now. But one day, if youâll have him, heâll make you his with another piece of jewelry, and falling asleep with you in his arms wonât be a once-in-a-while occurrence anymore.
Itâs more than enough, he thinks as he presses a kiss to your forehead, and lets the soft sound of your breathing lull him into sleep. Itâs everything.
.
.
âMy wife.â
Jaeyunâs voice is a low, possessive grunt in your ear. He says those two words like they hold the most precious meaning in the world, and it makes fire rise deep inside you.
You thought the reason Jaeyun had been so antsy during your journey to Hawaii was because heâd never travelled this far. Youâd chalked up his need to have his hand in yours or resting on your thigh for the entirety of the flight to it being his first time on a long-distance plane. You easily dismissed his clinginess on the drive from the airport to your hotel as his being tired, which always made him a little needier.
But when he pressed his body to yours the moment the door of your hotel room shut behind you, you finally understood what had actually been on his mind this entire timeâthe feeling of his erection, hard and insistent on your lower stomach, left no room for interpretation.
To be fair, since getting married three days ago, in the familiarity of your backyard and surrounded by your loved ones, youâd barely gotten any alone time. Relatives of his that lived far away stayed at your house until yesterday night, and at bedtime every night, either one or both of you were too tired to initiate anything. You havenât had sex since becoming Jaeyunâs wife, and clearly, this has been weighing on your husband.
He kisses you like he has been starving for months, desperate, ravenous, crazed. His arms around you hold you in a tight embrace, your bags haphazardly discarded at your feet. Eventually, he reaches for the back of your thighs and, legs hooked around his waist, carries you to the bed youâll call yours for the next week. You hadnât expected to break it in so quickly, but you wouldnât have it any other way, not when Jaeyunâs tongue laps at your mouth like this, not when his teeth graze your bottom lip so deliciously.
âNeed to touch you so bad, my love. Can I?â he asks, voice breathy.
âYes, Yun, please.âÂ
He slips a hand below your waistband and hums in satisfaction at the wetness he finds there. âAlways so wet for me, arenât you, baby? Always ready for me to fuck you.â
The feeling of his expert fingers on your clit render you unable to reply to himâitâs not like heâs waiting for an answer, anyway. The way you throw your head back and moan his name is all the confirmation he could need.Â
Although youâd be content to go on like this, it seems as though this isnât enough for him. He quickly withdraws his fingers, swallowing your whine of protest with a kiss. Itâs unusual, the speed with which he makes his way down your body until his face is level with your core. He normally likes to take his sweet time with you, trailing kisses all over your skin before giving in to your pleas for more. You take a little pride in knowing that you donât have to begâfor once, heâs the desperate one, heâs the one who canât wait a second longer.
Itâs obscene, and obscenely hot, the way he presses his nose against the crotch of your sweatpants and inhales deeply, a guttural groan escaping his throat. He presses kisses to your inner thighs and core over your clothes before he actually slides them down your thighs, letting them pool at your knees like he doesnât have time to take them off completely. He doesnât bother with your t-shirt, either, simply snaking his hands underneath it until they reach your breasts.
âFuck, Iâve missed this pussy so much,â he mutters, admiring it like it belongs in a museum.Â
You smile. âItâs been, like, four days.â
He shakes his head. âNever going without it for that long again.â
Jaeyun dives into your core, tongue licking a long stripe up your folds before it finds your clit and settles there, alternating between licking and sucking at the sensitive bud, two of his slender fingers quickly sliding inside of you. Your hands find purchase in his hair, tugging at it when a motion of his tongue feels particularly good, hips bucking against his mouth whenever his fingers hit that particularly deep spot inside you. He moans ceaselessly into your core, the vibrations making your thighs shake around his head, as though he needed this as much as you didâif not more. You swear you hear him mutter âmy wifeâ at some point. Embarrassingly quickly, you start to feel that familiar coil of pleasure form low in your stomach, a warm, dizzying buzz spreading throughout your entire body all the way to your fingertips.
Your relief at not having to beg turns out to be short-lived. Jaeyun makes you come on his tongue a first, then a second time, as he is often wont to do. Youâre impossibly sensitive, body heavy and boneless by the third time, but he isnât satisfied. His grip on your hips is firm, and you donât have the energy to fight itânor the willingness, really. Tears stream down your face by the time your fourth orgasm hits you, at which point you canât even tell pleasure from pain anymore. You really do need a break, though, and signal this to your husband â your husband â by lifting his head from your core.
He gives you a few minutes of physical respite, but the words that he whispers against your skin as he presses feverish kisses to your throat and jaw keep you in that hazy, nebulous headspace, and in those few minutes only, you already find yourself reaching for him, cupping his erection over his sweatpants.
You wince when he enters you, overstimulation setting in solely from having him inside you, but you shake your head when he asks if you need a longer break. âWant you, Yun,â you breathe out, holding onto his biceps, nails already digging into his skin.
As he pistons his hips into yours relentlessly, you almost canât believe this is the same man who was standing before you at the altar mere days ago, the sweetest smile on his lips and tears in his pretty eyes. You guess heâs holding true to one of his vowsâhe said heâd never make you doubt how much he loves you, and right now, you canât deny that heâs fucking you like youâre the only woman for him.
You think he must be close when his thrusts speed up and his grunts get louder. And recently, thereâs been a new telltale sign that he was inching closer to his orgasm.
âGonna fill you up, angel. Gonna stuff you full of my cum and make you the prettiest mommy ever. All round and beautiful, and carrying my baby. Show the whole world who you belong to.â
He mutters these words right into your ear just as his breathing gets heavier, more ragged, and seconds later, you feel him spurting ropes of his sperm inside you. When he first started talking to you like this, you assumed it was just long-term relationship dirty talk. But a couple of weeks ago, when you told him you were almost at the end of your last tablet of birth control, he asked how you felt about not renewing your prescriptionâso not just dirty talk, you realized.
He pulls out of you but stays on top of you, catching his breath as he rests his head on your chest and you play with his hair. Eventually, he grabs your left hand, lifts it to his lips, and presses them to your ring finger, right over the silver band. âThank you for marrying me, angel,â he whispers. âYouâve made me the happiest man on Earth.â
You kiss the top of his head, basking in the pleasant warmth of his words, of his scent, of his reassuring weight as he lays on top of you. âIâm the lucky one.â
âWill you still feel lucky when I tell you weâre not leaving this room all day?â
When you lift your head to look at him, heâs wearing a devilish grin. âWhy not?â you ask.
âBecause,â he says, pressing his lips to yours, âIâm fucking the jetlag out of you.â Your body responds to him, heat already starting to swirl in your stomach as though you havenât already taken more than you could handleâyour desire for him is a bottomless well. âAnd, so that in fifteen years, we get to embarrass our kid by telling them they were conceived in Hawaii.â
Needless to say, over the next week, you spend a lot more time in your hotel room than youâd planned, often only going out around noon or coming back halfway through dinnerâwhenever Jaeyun sees that ring around your finger, he seems to need some alone time with you.
He doesn't think he'll ever stop needing alone time with you.
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OMG A LITERAL MASTERPIECE đđđ THIS WAS SO BEAUTIFULLY WRITTEN IM LITERALLY CRYING OVER HOW PERFECT THIS IS đââïžâ€ïž
Thank u so so much omg đđđđ«¶đ«¶đ«¶ so happy u enjoyed thank u for reading !!!!
of all the people in the world - sjy (m)
pairing. sim jaeyun x reader
synopsis. You know you should be ecstatic about the invitation to Chaewonâs and Jaeminâs wedding in your mailbox, but you canât help the nerves gnawing away at your stomach. There are too many things youâve left unresolved after moving to Seoulâyour aunt, your friends, and most of all Sim Jaeyun, the boy youâve never let yourself love.
genre. childhood/high school friends that grow apart to lovers, angsty fluff, small town au, mutual pining bc they're idiots, this is kind of like hometown but different i promise, SMUT MDNI !!!!
warnings. characters are aged up (late 20s), reader is a little clueless but she's doing her best okay, family issues and family member death, jake is exclusively referred to as jaeyun deal with it
word count. 35.3k
author's note. listen to the playlist here + as always a big thank you to @zreamy for beta reading this and freaking out over jaeyun!!! happy very very late birthday can't wait to name my firstborn child after you... Zreamy Lee what a beautiful name... im sure anton will be stoked when i let him know!
Most of the time When he looks at me I change my mind And I donât think he even cares a bit How much I have to give Just as long as Iâm awake To love him every day [...] Of all the people in the world [He] says my name the best Most of the Time, Jackie Evans
From his seat on the couch, Jaeyun stares at the golden inflated balloons spelling out âCongratulations, Y/N!â on the wall of your auntâs living room. The more he stares, the more the capital letters seem to be mocking him.Â
He allows himself one last moment of selfishness, during which he thinks the last thing he wants to do, today or ever, is to congratulate you on getting your one-way ticket out of this town. He downs his fruit punch and winces at the overly sweet, artificial taste, then marches towards the crowd around you, trying on different smiles that might seem convincing. None of them fit.
August is nearing its end already. Summer has always felt lazy, molasses-slow, pleasantly neverending to Jaeyunâthis year, it blinked by him. He closed his eyes as the schoolbell rang for their last ever period; he opens them again and he is here. Wasnât prom just yesterday? Graduation? Did he realize that the last bonfire party was just that, the last?Â
Your birthday isnât for another week, but youâre leaving tomorrow. Everyone huddles around you, eagerly awaiting your reaction as you open gifts. If it wasnât for the presents and the chocolate fudge cake waiting in the fridge, this wouldnât be a birthday party so much as a going-away party. The dreadful words on your wall make that clear: everyone here knows youâre much happier about leaving than about turning eighteen. You said so yourself a few days earlier, and Jaeyun tried his hardest not to burst into tears.
âI can celebrate my birthday every year. Iâll only get accepted into the program of my dreams once.âÂ
You were sitting, just the two of you, atop one of the hills that overlooked your town. Jaeyun knew that when you looked out, you already saw your past, while he could only see his whole life, past, present and future indistinguishable from each other, spreading out for miles and miles and miles.Â
Up until a few months ago, when Jaeyun looked at you, he could only see his whole life. But ever since you received your acceptance letter, he hasnât been so sure. He watched as you celebrated leaving him behind, stayed silent as you raved about your plans for the future. Plans he wasnât a part of. These past months have been the only time seeing you smile made him sad.
He stays at the back of the small crowd, close enough to make out your presents as you unwrap them but not quite joining in. Hands in his back pockets, he wears his best neutral expressionäžif he canât fake a smile, he can at least try and not look so depressed. As your friend, he owes you that much. He might hate every moment of this but heâd feel even worse, knowing he was raining on your parade.
You seem to like your gifts. After spending your teenage years together, your friends know what you like. Scented candles, cute notebooks that youâll probably keep preciously rather than actually use, a personalized calendar for the upcoming school year with a different picture of you and your loved ones every month. Jaeyun shows up a few times in group pictures; itâs just the two of you in April, which is too far away for his liking. Far away enough for you to have forgotten all about him.
As you flip through the calendar, despite your friendsâ protest for the pictures to be a surprise each month, itâs on April that you linger the most. Thereâs a small smile on your face, a sad smile. Your fingers play with the pendant on your necklace, Jaeyunâs gift that he gave you before everyone else even arrived. It was too intimate a gift for him to hand it to you in front of all your friends. He almost died of embarrassment when your eyebrows rose at the sight of the delicate, silver chain, of the letter âJâ hanging off it, and it was just the two of you; if anyone else had been in the room, his shyness wouldâve gotten the best of him, and the jewelry box wouldâve stayed safely tucked in his coat pocket.
You lift your gaze towards him. He didnât even know youâd noticed him joining everyone, and yet your eyes found him immediately. He has no idea what on Earth is going through your head. Are you finally realizing that the days of seeing each other every single day are over? Are you finally figuring him out, how it isnât only friendship that has kept him by your side all these years, but the feeling deep in his gut that he gets whenever he thinks of you?
Do you have that feeling, too?
Your eyes shine. For a second, Jaeyun thinks you might start to cry. Then someone, Miji or Yurim, who knows, says that sheâs on the next page. Your gaze falls back to the calendar in your hands. Your fingers let go of your necklace, and you flip Jaeyunâs page.
.
.
A tight ball of dread has been sitting in your stomach ever since you got that letter in the mail. Youâve tried to rationalize it many ways: it feels weird to receive a wedding invitation, the first from someone out of your childhood group of friends. Even more so when that someone is the girl you called your best friend for all of your teenage years, but you arenât sure you deserve that title anymore. Even more so when youâre 28 and couldnât be further from drafting a wedding invitation yourself.
You know what it really is: itâs the address for the reception, the name of a place in which you havenât set foot in years blinking innocently up at you. Itâs the second piece of paper inside the envelope, a handwritten note asking you to come a few days earlier so that all of you âcan gather just like the good old times.â
Iâm getting married, Y/N. Iâm turning into a proper adult. I just want one last time of feeling like a sixteen year old, and I canât have that without you here. Say youâll be there, pretty please? XX
You remember sighing after reading that note, your brain already coming up with excuses to justify your future absence, fully aware that you wouldnât miss this wedding for the world.Â
Damn Chaewon, you thought then, and still regularly think now. Damn her and her emotional manipulation, as youâve decided to view it, forcing you to make that dreaded trip homeânot that you really consider that place home anymore.
It was a wonder that you and Chaewon were such good friends back then, good enough to still keep in touch throughout your adult lives. Just like every baby in the family, she was born in the upstairs bedroom of their home, the mayorâs daughter, known and loved by everyone in town, and had always adored her small-town life. You showed up out of nowhere at age fourteen, initially making no effort to befriend anyone, annoyed by the whispers that followed you. You wanted to leave as soon as you arrived, and you eventually did; although along the way, Chaewonâs kind-heartedness melted even your ice walls, and you gradually opened the gates to let the other kids in.
For almost a decade, youâve been working to close those gates again. You were almost there; they were barely agape, there was just that tiny thread that kept an infinitesimal part of you tethered to that place, and you were sure it was close to snapping. Chaewon and her damn wedding invitation pushed the gates back open, and it took you all your strength to not look back and walk through again.
You left something there, and you arenât sure youâre ready to retrieve it.Â
The ball of dread, as though tethered to a chain around your ankle, wonât stop following you. Up until now, you hadnât noticed how much everything around you seemed to revolve around romance. The TV you watched. The content on your phone. Couples in the street. Even your work was full of it. Youâre the editor for the Culture and Media segment of Limelight Monthly, the magazine you work at, not Relationships or even Lifestyle, and yet, in the weeks after receiving the invitation, it felt like all your staff could write about were the latest romance novels everyone raved about online, the best reality TV shows about exes getting back together or forever-singles searching for their first love, and which destinations were the most romantic for couples to travel to this summer.Â
You do a good job hiding it at first. Although youâre not as focused as you usually are reading your staffâs articles to greenlight them for publication, two years of doing this job means no typos or clunky sentences pass you by. You make sure to greet everyone with your usual cheer, and you donât miss any Thursday evening afterwork drinks, a tradition of your teamâs. Most of the time, youâre able to relegate Chaewonâs wedding and everything it entails to the back of your mind, but itâll come back up at random moments. Youâll be filling the kettle for tea in the communal kitchen when a certain face will fill the forefront of your thoughts; your heart will start beating uncontrollably, and before you know it, water will be overflowing from the kettle and onto your hands. Youâll stare at the awfully familiar name of a book character in one of your coworkersâ reviews and only snap out of it once someoneâs called your name three times in a row, like being summoned out of a trance.Â
These moments are few and far between, but they add up. When your coworkers ask you whether everythingâs okay, at first, itâs lighthearted, like theyâre just curious about what got you so lost in your thoughts. Slowly, eyebrows start to furrow, concern starts creeping in their eyes and voice. Youâre one zone-out away from an intervention. A few days ago, you overheard Juhee and Haewon, your teamâs two most recent recruits, whispering in the break room about their concern for your well-being: âI think she goes home and just, I donât know, has takeaway and white wine in front of her TV.â
Theyâre wrong about the takeaway. Youâre actually a pretty decent cook. The rest of their sentiment, however⊠Well.
It takes Minjeong, your favorite coworker-turned-friend, a couple of weeks before she decides to take matters into her own hands. One Tuesday after work, she waits for you outside the buildingâs main entrance, and as soon as you step outside, grabs your wrist and drags you to the subway station thatâll lead both of you to her apartment. âIâm making you chicken alfredo and youâre telling me what the hell is wrong with you,â she says before you can protest.
You wrench your wrist out of her grasp, shrug on the bag strap that had fallen off your shoulder with a discontented huff, and follow her anyway. âFine, but Iâm only coming for the chicken alfredo.â
âIâll tie you down to the chair until you speak.â
âKinky.â
She halts dead in her tracks in the middle of the busy street, ignoring the nasty stares from the other homebound office workers heading for the station. She turns to face you, wearing a severe expression. âIâve known you for five years, and youâve never cried in front of me. Not even when we watched Titanic.â
Nonplussed, you reply, âI already knew how it ended.â
âThatâs not the point. Itâs usually impossible to get a read on you, so when not one or two, but three people come up to me and ask whether youâre alright, that means somethingâs seriously wrong. Iâd be a terrible friend if I didnât try to find out what that was.â
You hesitate. Youâre embarrassed that youâve been so obvious, and that youâre even this upset in the first place. Who on Earth has such a hard time being happy about her childhood best friendâs upcoming wedding? Your first reaction shouldâve been to call Chaewon and rave with her and ask for all the details. You should be sending her pictures of potential dresses and asking her which one fits her color palette the best. You shouldnât be needing the aforementioned intervention.
It isnât like you have to follow Minjeong and air your dirty laundry out to her. If it came to it, your couple inches over her might help you win a physical fight. But something about her sincere concern makes you foldâhow long has it been since you let someone worry about you like this? Long enough that you forgot how nice it feels, apparently.
She must sense a shift in your demeanor, because she relaxes. âLetâs go,â she says, and this time, she doesnât need to drag you with her.
From the moment you met Minjeong, you knew she came from money. It wasnât that she flaunted it or appeared out-of-touch with reality; she just had a way of moving through the world with the air of confidence of someone who knew they belonged, who was used to getting what they wanted. It also helped that she often came to work with a new designer bag and always had flawless hair and nails.
It intimidated you at first, the way she seemed to have worked in this office her whole life, whereas it took you weeks before you stopped being so eager to please and be overly polite with everyone. But it quickly became clear that although you found her infinitely cool, she wasnât cold. You didnât work for the same segment, but you spent your lunch breaks together, getting scolded by your respective bosses more than once for coming back half-an-hour late; you would often be so busy talking, you wouldnât keep track of the time.
But it wasnât until you stepped inside her apartment for the first time that you realized just how wealthy she, or her family, was. She lived in one of the fanciest neighborhoods of town, in an apartment that you could hardly afford now as an editor, let alone when you were just starting out at the magazineâyet sheâd been living there since graduating from university. Itâs on the top floor of a brand new apartment complex and composed of three bedrooms and two bathrooms, a ridiculously large open plan kitchen and living room, and a balcony with possibly the best view over the city youâve ever seen. Her furniture looked and felt expensive, and it made you dizzy trying to figure out how much the artwork that hung on her walls and decorated her shelves mustâve cost. To this day, you havenât been brave enough to ask.
When you step inside her apartment today, she wastes no time before ordering you to sit at the kitchen island. You watch as she grabs a bottle of wine from the fridge, hesitates, then puts it back. Instead, she grabs a bottle of gin and an unopened one of tonic from a cupboard, two glasses and some ice from the freezer. You smile and sit silently as she expertly pours two drinks. âHere,â she says, sliding a glass towards yours. âI thought you might want something stronger.â
âShould I be worried you just have this on hand?â you tease.
She rolls her eyes. âItâs for emergencies like these, obviously.â You clink your glasses and take a wonderful sip. Then, she looks you straight in the eyes and says, âSo, tell me whatâs been on your mind.â
So you do.
You tell her about the wedding invitation and what it entails: travelling back to the town you used to live in, having to face everyone you left behind there. You keep things vague. You donât name names, or dump your entire backstory on her; you simply tell her you didnât have the best relationship with your aunt when you left, and phone calls between the two of you have been few and far between in the time youâve moved away. And that this goes for a few other people from home, namely one other person.
Of course, this isnât enough for Minjeong. She prods, and prods, and prods, until you finally give in. With a sigh and a heavy gulp of your wine, you ask, âWhere do you even want me to start?â
She smiles. âFrom the beginning.â
You stare each other off for a few beats. Even as your instincts tell you to keep your mouth shut, a small voice at the back of your mind says, For once, why not?
âI donât⊠talk about this,â you say, voice shaky.
Worry knots Minjeongâs eyebrows together. âIs it that bad?â
âItâs not that itâs bad,â you reply quickly to reassure her. âI just donât like even thinking about it. So talking about it⊠Well, that forces me to think about it, doesnât it?â
âListen,â Minjeong says, walking over to your side of the island, resting her hand over yours. âIf you really donât want to talk about it, I wonât force you. But from what I can tell, itâd do you some good.â She takes a deep breath, then speaks all in one go. âAlso Iâm dying to know. Iâm not supposed to tell you this but everyone at the office has a theory about where you come from because you never talk about it.â
When you gasp, she shakes her head and squeezes your hand. âI promise everything said here will stay here. Iâd derive much more satisfaction from being the only one knowing about your past than blabbing about it to everyone anyway.â
For some reason, this works on you. Maybe Minjeong feels trustworthy enough. Or maybe you know sheâs right, you know itâll do you good to speak about it, to release some of the burden.
âOkay.â
You really do start from the beginning, and work your way up from there. Why you had to move to Gimcheon without your parents. Why it was difficult living with your aunt, and why you could hardly make friends at first. Why it was your sole goal in life to move back to Seoul at eighteen, and why with every passing year, the thought of leaving became harder and harder. Why you did it anyway.Â
What it cost you.
It feels strange to speak so much at once, and about yourself. Minjeong is plating dinner as youâre wrapping your story up. She has so many questions, it takes you almost an hour to finish your food. But you find yourself readily answering every one of them; youâve gone this far already, so you might as well give her the fullest picture you can.
Oddly enough, itâs perhaps her easiest question that has you hesitating the most. Itâs the end of the night, and youâre surprised your eyes have stayed dry throughout it; but when she asks you this, your nose starts to prickle.
âWhatâs this guyâs name, anyway? Weâve talked so much about him, and youâve only referred to him as your friend.â
You canât help but smile even as the word tugs sharply on your heartstrings.Â
âJaeyun.â
.
.
As the date of the wedding approaches, the tight knot of nerves in your stomach grows bigger. The evening before your flight, it takes you hours to fall asleep, your packed suitcase next to your bed startling you every time you lay eyes on it. You sleep fitfully for three hours, then a never-ending loop of worst-case scenarios plays in your head as you go through the motions of getting yourself ready and to the airport. An older woman sits next to you on the plane; anxiety must be emanating from you like a bad odor for her to rest a kind hand on your shoulder and tell you that domestic flights like these are very safe, that sheâs flown many times and that nothing badâs ever happened. You donât have it in you to tell her, a total albeit nice stranger, that itâs not the journey thatâs worrying you so much, but the destination.
Stepping inside the airport at Daegu feels surreal. The few times youâve traveled between Seoul and Gimcheon, you droveâbut Chaewon forced you to fly down, saying you couldnât just get in your car and leave if you suddenly felt like it. You didnât tell her you could almost just as easily get a same-day flight, if it really came down to it.
You hope it wonât.
The airport is so relatively unbusy, so it doesnât take you too long before you arrive at the parking lot, eyes searching for your aunt and her green little car that sheâs always driven and that has somehow yet to break down.Â
But itâs another familiar face that your eyes land on.Â
The sight feels like a punch to the gut. For a few seconds, you swear you stop breathing, the sound of your heartbeat so loud in your ears that it cuts off all other noise around you, of planes taking off, people reuniting, car doors slamming shut.
You werenât supposed to see him so soon. You were supposed to meet your aunt, go through a slightly awkward car ride, maybe have your first adult conversation with her now that you werenât, or at least less of, an angsty teen. You were then supposed to get ready, both mentally and physically, for seeing all of your friends at once again, for seeing him. Who was standing in front of his car, staring at you with a small smile that kept breaking your heart over and over again, clearly here to pick you up.
He lets you stare back. Lets you stand there, mouth agape in shock, fingers wrapped so tight around the handle of your suitcase that your nails dig into the skin of your palm. You werenât supposed to see him so soon. You didnât get enough time to prepare, to adjust to being here, and now youâre standing there dumbly like youâve just seen a ghost.
In a way, you have.
You regain part of your senses. When you try to say his name, your voice is hoarse, and it comes out as a whisper, barely audible even to you. So you clear your throat, try a second time.
âJaeyun.â
The name feels clumsy on your tongue, like a foreign language you once knew but lost due to lack of practice. And yet, when he smiles and says your name back to you, it sounds so right, like no one else is as deserving of saying it as he is.
âHi, Y/N.â
Your feet move of their own accord as they step towards him; he mirrors you, and in mere seconds youâre face-to-face with him, and when he reaches out you think he might hug you but all he does is take your suitcase from you and roll it to the trunk of his car. A sigh escapes your lips, but youâre unsure whether it's one of disappointment or of relief.
âThere was an emergency at the hospital, so Auntie asked me to pick you up. I hope itâs okay with you,â he explains. You watch, transfixed, as he closes the trunk, then walks over to the passenger side, opening the door and motioning for you to go in.
You nod. âYeah, itâs okay. Thank you.â
Instead of walking right away to his side of the car, he stays there, one hand on top of the door as you take a seat and fasten your seatbelt. âItâs no worries,â he says finally before gently shutting your door.
There are so many things to think about. Usually, youâd get hung up over the fact that even on the day of your coming back home for the first time in years, your aunt still prioritizes her job over you, or over the fact that Jaeyun still calls her Auntie, despite the resolve youâve had since you were fourteen of calling her by her first name, and her first name only.
Now, as the boy â the man â beside you starts the car, hands steady compared to your trembling ones, a peaceful expression on his face, all you can think about is the improbability of it all, of being back here, of being next to Jaeyun of all people and not knowing what to say to him. If someone had told you ten years ago, that one day a reunion with Jaeyun would mean silence and cramp-inducing nerves, you would have either laughed them off, or been scared into never leaving at all.Â
Your mind conjures an infinite list of conversation starters, but none of them seem good enough. Theyâre all too relaxed, too intense, too inappropriate for a situation like this. Like a fish out of water, you keep opening your mouth to say something, only to close it when you decide not to.Â
Jaeyun being this quiet only makes things worse. If thereâs one thing about him, itâs that heâs always talking like he canât get the words out fast enoughâbut maybe itâs been too long for you to speak with any authority about what Sim Jaeyun is like. You know youâve changed a lot in ten yearsâhow can you expect him to be the same boy you left? You canât even tell whether heâs just calmer now or if heâs decided to torture you by silence.Â
As he keeps his eyes on the road ahead of him, you risk furtive glances, trying to assess how much about him mightâve changed. Thereâs still something of the boy who used to split clementines with you in the winter, who would whisper the answers to you when you got called on in class and blanked. Heâs grown into his features, heâs learned how to style his hair, but his kind smile and eyes havenât changed in the slightest. You still find yourself inexplicably drawn to everything about him, even the small cut on his jawline, probably from shavingâyour fingers crave to feel it, this sign of a private life that you havenât been privy to for years. That you havenât been a part of.
Minutes pass by like eternity. Heâs only pulling out of the parking lot and joining the freeway and youâre already wondering how youâll survive the twenty-minute car ride to your auntâs. Thankfully, Jaeyun eventually puts an end to your agony.Â
âThereâs so much I want to tell you that I donât know where to start.â His voice is low, infused with a kind of timidity youâve rarely heard from him. It seems to reflect your feelings exactly, and youâre so relieved you could cry.Â
A small chuckle escapes your throat. âMe too,â you say, glancing at him briefly, avoiding his gaze by the fraction of a second. Itâs hard enough being in an enclosed space with him; eye contact isnât an option right now. Every time his eyes flick over to you, the side of your face heats up so much you think it might melt right off.
âHowâhow are you?â he asks.
Youâre not sure whether he means right now, or in generalâbut you donât really feel like examining your feelings about being back here more than you already have, and especially not in front of Jaeyun, so you go for the second meaning.
âGood,â you say. âEverythingâs going well at work. And Iâve got a few really great friends. What about you?â
A few beats pass without his answerâin the corner of your eye, you see his head swivel back-and-forth between the road and your face. âWhat, thatâs it?â he finally says with a small, disbelieving chuckle. âThe last time I saw you was three years ago. Surely you have more to say than that.â He doesnât sound angry, just genuinely eager to get more information out of you. But his words make you angry at yourself, because they remind you that itâs your fault you know so little about each otherâs lives now. Itâs not for his lack of trying, and you both know thatâsince you left ten years ago, his unwavering kindness and lack of resentment towards you has surprised you every time youâve seen him again.Â
âI donât know, nothingâs really happened. I was promoted pretty recentlyââ
âOkay, thatâs definitely not nothing. Congratulations, Y/N. You deserve it.â
Theyâre words youâve heard a hundred times before, but coming from him, they sound so heartfelt, like he truly is proud and happy for you, that you canât help but soften at them. Smiling, you say, âYouâve never seen me at work. Maybe I slack off all day and hand in everything late.â
âIâve seen you in high school, and thatâs enough to know youâd rather pull out your hair strand by strand than hand in anything a minute late.â
You laugh, and when he turns his head to look at you, this time, you mirror him. He can only keep his eyes off the road for so long, but a second is all you need. Your gazes meet, and heâs wearing one of your favorite smiles of his, the one that makes you feel like heâs really glad to see you again, and a weight is suddenly taken off your shoulders.
Maybe this wonât be so bad after all.
Thankfully, the remainder of the car ride is much less awkward than its first few minutes.You find Jaeyun to be as talkative as ever, not shy in the slightest to tell you about everything going on in his life, from the arguments he gets into with his colleagues â which happen to mostly be members of his family â to the hikes heâs been going on more frequently now that heâs adopted a dog, a Border Collie he says you have to meet.Â
Your nerves are appeased. The last time you saw Jaeyun three years ago, it was for his grandmotherâs funeral. She was the main reason heâd stayed hereâback in high school, heâd had vague plans of moving to Seoul after graduating from university in Daegu. But when she got sick, with his brother abroad and his parents working hard to afford the hospital bills, he decided there should be someone to keep her company and take care of her, and that someone would be him. You could count on one hand the number of times youâd been back, and when she passed was one of them. He tried to keep a brave front, smiling as he greeted and thanked everyone for coming, but you could see right through the facade, although itâd been a long time since you could call yourself a close friend of his.
You only stayed three days. The night before you went back to Seoul, you went over to his apartment to make him dinner. In front of you, he let it all outâheâd always cried easily, but never like this. You spent so much time comforting him and offering him your shoulder that in the end, you could only make him a bowl of pasta with tomato sauce that he barely ate half of. You knew only too well what sort of pain he was going through. While your brain has wiped most of your memories of the events soon following your parentsâ deaths, you remember the hurt that lasted months, years, that still comes back now from time to time, when you least expect it. It was partly thanks to Jaeyunâs friendship that your grief was easier to overcomeâas you got to know him and your new classmates, he took your mind off of things little by little, until one afternoon, you came home from school and realized you hadnât felt suddenly sad or irrationally angry the entire day.
The moment you left him that night, his cheeks tear-stained and his eyebrows furrowed even in sleep, you made a promise to yourself that youâd be there for him at twenty-five as he was for you at fourteen, despite the distance that separated you. You texted him everyday, called three times in a row if he didnât answer, made sure your mutual friends checked up on him often.Â
But Jaeyun was, is strong and he had amazing people surrounding him, people heâs known his entire life and that have his back. He was back on his feet soon, sooner than you expected, for how close he was to his grandmother. Because of, or thanks to that, when you felt like he didnât need you to look after him anymore, you only felt a little guilty for pulling away. More accurately, the guilt ate relentlessly at you, but you had excuses to make yourself feel better. His dad made all his favorite dishes. Jaemin took him out fishing. A neighbor of his had a dog who gave birth, and he adopted one of the pups. With or without you, he was going to be fine.
You didnât mind looking after him. But as soon as you felt like you were relying on him, you panicked. And you were starting to look forward to your weekly calls far too much for your liking. So you reached out less often. It was a busy time at work â when wasnât it, after all? â and you buried yourself in it so that when you told him you were too busy to call or to head back for the weekend, you werenât lying.
Things went back to the way they were for the seven previous years. You were as relieved as you were heartbroken.
You look at him now, listening to his lively rants with a smile on your face, thinking how glad you are it all turned out okay. The sadness of being apart from him, the longing of missing him, youâd do it all again if it meant heâd be laughing like this in the end.
Parked in front of your auntâs house, Jaeyun turns off the ignition and turns to you. âDo you want me to come in with you?â he asks.
How easily you fall back into your old ways. Twenty minutes with him and you feel like a teenager again, annoyed with him for being so nice, so unrelentingly nice, annoyed at your stupid heart for beating up a storm in your chest every time he so much as smiles at you. You want desperately to say yes. To have someone to lean on as you walk into the house that contains so many bad memoriesâfights with your aunt followed by silence, the feeling of loneliness that pervaded your teenage years and that you havenât quite managed to shake off. Itâd be so nice to have Jaeyun there with youâand judging from the concern on his face, he seems to know how you feel.
But you canât let him, because you canât let yourself need him. Not again. Not when you already know how it ends.
You smile and shake your head, ignoring the disappointment that flashes across his features. âItâs okay. I donât wanna take up more of your time.â He looks like heâs going to say something, so you quickly add, already opening the passenger door, âIâll see you later for the reunion, yeah? Thank you for the ride, Yun.â
With a sigh, he lets go of whatever it was he wanted to say. âOf course. Anytime.â
He gets out of the car even though you tell him not to, and helps you with your suitcase, which really isnât that heavy. You can tell that your declining his offer has dampened his enthusiasm somewhat, and yet, he waits until youâre at the front door, one hand on the handle, the other waving him goodbye, to drive away. As though he wanted to keep an eye on you for as long as he couldâand so do you. You watch his car get smaller until it disappears around a corner. Then, inhaling and exhaling deeply, you turn the key you havenât used in years inside the keyhole and push the door open.
The first thing you notice is the unchanging smell of the house. Like the cleaning product your aunt uses, and a slight stale odor of food, because she always forgets to crack open a window or turn on the oven fan when she cooks. Plus a scent specific to the house that reminds you of your aunt, of the clothes she wears, of the blanket she covers herself with while she watches reality TV after particularly long shifts.
Gently closing the door behind you, you stand in the entrance for a while, letting yourself take the time you need to get used to this place again. Youâre glad your aunt isnât home to usher you in and pretend sheâs happier to see you than she is, or that you didnât let Jaeyun accompany you. You donât want anyone, least of all him, to witness you looking around the house like itâs the first time you step foot in it.
Everything is the same as ever. Same furniture, same photos in the frames, same wallpaper, which make the few novelties even more striking. A plant in the corner of the living room, a new, more modern kettle in the kitchen. The black-and-white, low quality scan of your first ever article printed in Limelight is still displayed on the fridge, held up by the Brisbane magnet seventeen-year-old Jaeyun gifted you after he came back from visiting his family there.Â
You make your way upstairs slowly, holding onto the wooden rail for support, more emotional than physical. Your bedroom is a time capsule of your time in Gimcheon, with the same plain purple bedsheets your aunt bought before you arrived, the same posters of the boybands fifteen-year-old you obsessed over on your walls, the same fantasy series you used to devour during summer break on your shelves. You canât help but crack a smile at the sight of it all. In all the times youâve come back to this house, youâve never had it in you to change anything about this room. You want to keep it preciously, as if changing anything about it would change the memories associated with it, both good and bad.
Losing both of your parents at once had made you anything but an insouciant teenager. You were overly serious and reserved, grief forcing you to grow up far before any kid should have to. And yet, standing in this room, you remember the fleeting moments during which your biggest worries were a pimple on your chin or a test in a subject you didnât like.Â
For all your grievances against your aunt, you wouldâve turned into a much different person if she hadnât taken you in back then. Your dadâs family lived in another country, and you knew from conversations with your aunt that she and your mother didnât have the best relationship with their parents. Their brother had three kids of his own, whereas your aunt had none; it only made sense for her to welcome you into her house. When you were mad at her, you told yourself it was only her moral and legal obligation to take care of you as your closest relative, but when you were feeling more generous â which, for fifteen-year-old you, could be rare â you realized that having a comfortable room to yourself and cupboards always stocked with your favorite snacks was something to be grateful for.Â
And there were the friends you made here, whose pictures fill five entire photo albums. They made everything more tolerable, and even fun, when you allowed it to be. Of course, you would have never told them that, back thenâyou liked your cold exterior and the way they saw right through it.Â
Setting down your suitcase by your bed, you decide to go through the photo albums you assiduously filled back in high school instead of putting your things away. Itâs a better way to settle in and get yourself readyâyour nerves dissipate as you flip the pages, bright pictures blink up at you, of your friends at each othersâ houses, at the park on weekends, at the corner store after school. Youâre not in many of the pictures, usually hidden behind the camera, exaggeratedly frowning when Jaeyun managed to pry it from your hands and forced you in the frame.
He never heeded your protests when he wanted to swap places so you could be in the pictures you so often took. You remember the puppy eyes heâd make at you, which had no business being so effective, and the way heâd rest his larger hands on yours on the camera. Too unaccustomed to the feeling of your heartbeat speeding up, you would quickly hand it over to him then, turning away from him so he wouldnât see the obvious effect his touch had on you. It didnât help that heâd always show you the photo afterwards, pointing at you on the small screen, grinning as he said, âSee? You look pretty,â even though fear of being unphotogenic wasnât the reason you didnât like your picture to be taken.
Soon, your anxiety at seeing your friends and ex-classmates, after so long of making yourself unavailable to them, is almost entirely gone, replaced by excitement. There remains a pang of shame, especially at the thought of seeing Chaewon. How long had it been since youâd called her when you received that wedding invitation? Like Jaeyun, you know she wonât even be really mad, and that makes it worseâshe might make a light-hearted quip about it, but itâs as though theyâre scared that lecturing you about being MIA might only push you away further.
You tell yourself thereâs nothing to be scared about. The people youâll see tonight are but older versions of the people smiling at the camera, at you, in your photo albums.Â
You flip to a picture of you and Jaeyun taken without your knowledge, by Yunjin, if you remember correctly. Both of you sport wide smiles, the neon lights of the arcade game you were playing reflecting on your faces. It was his phoneâs home screen for ages.
Youâre so immersed in this trip down memory lane that you lose track of timeâwhen the front door opens and your aunt calls out your name, two hours have passed already. Pushing your awkwardness to the side, you let her hug you and repeat her words back to her when she tells you she missed you. You did miss her, but you only realize it once the familiar scent of her hair. Sheâs a creature of habitâshe still uses the shampoo she used when you first moved here at fourteen.Â
She was only twenty-six back then, younger than you are now. You donât know if you could deal with a temperamental, grieving teenager while youâd just lost your sister yourself.Â
âHow was the trip down? Iâm sorry I couldnât come and get you at the airport. I sent Jake instead, I figured you wouldnât mind if it was him,â she rattles, already filling the kettle for tea. This is so like her, saying a million things at once, always busying herself with something. You know that in an hour, when you leave for Chaewonâs house, sheâll settle herself on the couch and wonât leave it for the remainder of the evening, drained from her shift at the hospital.Â
âIt was fine, I didnât have any problems with my flight,â you reply, taking the knife from her hands and taking over the apple-cutting. âThere was an emergency at work?â
She sighs. âYeah, you know how weâre so understaffed in the summer. Some teenagers were messing around in a house under construction, and fell through a floor that wasnât done. No big injuries, but they needed an extra person to deal with parents and paperwork. At least I got to see these little shits get the talking-to of their life,â she says, making you laugh. She reaches for something in the cupboard, pulls out a packet of your favorite chocolate-flavored snacks from back then. âI got you these, if you want.â
âWow, I havenât eaten these in ages,â you say, chuckling at the familiar cartoon turtle on the bag.
âDo you not like them anymore?â
âNo, no, I do,â you say quickly to make your auntâs worried expression go away. âI just canât eat a bag in one sitting like I used to anymore, and they go stale too soon.â
She chuckles. âThatâs being an adult for you. I got a stomachache from a can of Coke the other day. Just one.â
You have time to spare before you need to start getting ready for Chaewonâs, so you sit at the dinner table together and catch up. The conversation floats somewhat on the surface of things, more about what youâve been doing than how youâve been doing. Youâre overly polite, keeping a distance for her sake more than your own, unsure how happy she really is to have you hereâand you have the feeling she thinks the same of you. The memory of your last fight hangs heavy in the air between you two, unspoken but tangible.
Itâs been easier talking to her since you moved away than it ever was when you lived here. You guess distance really does make the heart grow fonder, more willing to forgive and make amendsâthat, and growing up. Even after your fight, which you quickly understood had only happened because you let your emotions get the best of you after seeing Jaeyun in such a dishevelled state from losing his grandmother, you can have a normal conversation like this. Itâs a far cry from the silence that could stretch on for days when you were in high school.
Like with most dreaded things, you belatedly realize how much time you wasted stressing out about coming home, when there was nothing to worry about. Your mind had made up all sorts of scenarios, like your aunt would start yelling at you the moment you came through the door, rehashing your argument, or would barely give you the time of day during your entire stay. Itâs as though you forgot she was always the one who knocked on your door with a slice of takeaway pizza or a piece of buttered toast when you were being moody and wouldnât come down to eat. Who took you out for ice cream when she felt bad for being so caught up in work youâd hardly seen her all week. Who recorded your Saturday evening dramas on the TV while you were over at a friendâs house.
Youâve still got some talking to do, but it might not be as hard as you thought it would.
Fresh out of the shower, youâre changing into a nicer outfit and putting on light makeup when a text from Jaeyun lights up your phone. Heâs asking if you want a ride from him, which you declineâyour auntâs house is out of his way and itâs only a ten-minute bike ride for you, which you find yourself quite excited to go on, for purely nostalgic reasons.
Ok :) Iâll see you later, he texts back, and your stomach twists with both apprehension and giddiness. Having him there will make things so much easier, and yet the thought of spending prolonged time in his vicinity makes you unreasonably nervous.
Itâs just Jaeyun, you tell yourself, the guy who drooled on his textbook when he fell asleep in class. Who never got mad unless, in true soccer player fashion, felt another player had committed an unforgivable offense against him. Who insisted on watching horror movies then spent them with his face behind his hands.
You catch yourself smiling in the mirror and shake your head.
It really does feel like youâve been transported back to ten years ago as you wish your aunt a good evening and hop onto your bike, still in its same spot, resting against the side of the house, then ride down the streets youâll always know by heart. Gimcheon is at its prettiest during this time of year, the trees plump, their leaves dark green, the flowers bright. The summer evening breeze is warm on your skin, and the sun, low in the sky, casts a beautiful golden light on everything around you.
Itâs not long before you reach Chaewonâs houseâitâs still amazing to you how you can stand in front of it and say, yes, my friend owns this house. It actually belongs to herâand her fiancĂ©, Jaemin, of course. You donât know of a single person your age in Seoul who owns their apartment, except for Minjeong, but sheâs just exceptionally well-off. Itâs a nice, traditional house, with a wooden porch around the front where you know Chaewon, a Korean Nara Smith if youâve ever met one, will make gochujang and soy sauce from scratch once sheâs less busy with work and wedding preparations.Â
The gate is ajar, so you slide it further and let yourself in, calling out your friendâs name tentatively. Immediately you hear footsteps from inside the house, Chaewon squealing your name before she comes barrelling through the door and running towards you. She practically flings herself at you, and you stumble back a few steps as you catch her, laughing at her enthusiasm.
âUgh, Iâm so happy youâre finally here!â she exclaims, squashing the side of her face onto yours.
âIâm happy to be here, too,â you reply, chuckling. âThank you for the heartfelt welcome.â
Hands on your shoulders, she leans back, assesses you head-to-toe. You follow her gaze, wondering if the mid-thigh sundress you chose was a good decision. Is it too much cleavage? At your all-female workplace, there is no such thing as too much cleavage. âYou look good.â
âOkay, no need to sound so surprised.â
âIâm not!â she says, laughing. âOkay, a little bit, Iâm sorry. I thought youâd look all dishevelled like those busy city girls in the movies. Running around, getting coffee, whatever it is city people do. Thatâs what you look like when you FaceTime me after work.â
You sigh. âThatâs great to hear, Chae, thanks.â
âNo, donât take it the wrong way, itâs hot! But itâs nice to see you like this, with your hair down instead of your buns so tight they snatch your eyebrows.â
You frown. âI like my tight buns.â
âSo do I,â she says, tapping your butt with a cheeky smile. Before you can protest, she takes your hand and leads you into the house. âCome on, weâve made some changes inside, let me show you.â
âAm I the first person here?â you ask. The house is empty save for you and her, and probably Jaemin, somewhere.
She smiles at you mischievously. âOf course. Weâre going to catch up first. And who the hell starts a party at 6 p.m. anyway?â
Chaewonâs presence is everywhere around her house, from the white gauze curtains that flutter in the wind to the trinkets that line the shelves of a cupboard passed down onto her from her grandparents. There are new pieces of furniture here and there, and a nice patterned rug in the living room, but the biggest change has been done to the kitchen. Itâs been fully renovated to be more modern since you were last here, and itâs fully functional now, with everything she needs to make her homemade bread and her thousand side dishes that accompany every one of her meals. Itâs a good thing Jaeminâs a nice personâyou staunchly believe that not many people are deserving of the kind of care Chaewon is able to provide. You remember making that very clear when you came to visit for the holidays, and got a little too drunk with Chaewon for New Yearâs Eveâyou canât recall exactly what you said to him, but he could hardly look you in the eye for the remainder of your stay, so it mustâve left an impression.
Thereâs barely an inch of free space on the counter, and the fridge isnât faring much better. All sorts of salads and dips, meat and vegetable skewers, marinating chicken thighs, and of course, cupcakes. Tons of cupcakes. She doesnât let you lingerâJaemin walks into the kitchen, and youâve barely hugged him hello and exchanged niceties with him that sheâs already dragging you someplace else, telling rather than asking her fiancĂ© to finish getting the food ready.
She sits you down on a chair outside then heads back in, telling you sheâll be right back. It gives you some time to admire her backyard, the way itâs all been set up for tonight, cute cushions on the patio sofas, fairy lights strung in the trees, ribbons on the fence around her vegetable patch. Even back in high school, she grew green onions and avocados on the window sill of her parentsâ kitchen. Youâre excessively moved knowing that she has a whole garden to tend to now. Itâs so easy to picture her, wearing a sunhat as she waters and adds soil to her plants.Â
When she comes back out, itâs with two glasses of suspiciously pink liquid in her hands. She sees your weary expression and says, âDonât worry, you can barely taste the alcohol in it.â
âThatâs exactly what Iâm worried about,â you reply, but take a sip anyway. God knows youâre going to need some liquid courage to face tonight. Itâs overly sweet, tasting mostly of strawberry syrup, and almost not at all of the vodka and prosecco Chaewon says she put in. Fine with you.
She launches straight away into her usual interrogation. Itâs less daunting, because you can expect itâevery reunion with Chaewon means sheâs going to have a thousand questions for you if you donât turn the subject around on her at some point. She wants to know all of the office gossip as though she has personal stakes in who your coworkers are dating and what the workplace dynamics are like. She asks about your daily life, your friends, whether youâre seeing anyone.
âIâd have told you if I had a boyfriend, Chae,â you say.
She shrugs, a little sheepish. âI donât know. Thereâs lots of things you donât tell me about, you knowâŠâ
There it is, the sharp pang of guilt in your stomach. The summer breeze suddenly feels cold on your bare skin, the stillness of the countryside oppressive. Up until now, it felt like barely a few weeks had passed since youâd last seen Chaewon, but reality catches up to you now, with its distance and silences, the ones you imposed between the two of you. âIâm sorry,â you say quietly.
âNo, Iâm not mad!â she exclaims, panicked. âIâm just saying, I donât know so much about your life anymore, so this could be something I donât know about either⊠Iâm making this worse, arenât I?â she asks when she sees the pained look on your face.
You shake your head. âYouâre right, though. I know I should call more often, I justâŠâ
âWant to put this all behind you, I get it. You always talked about wanting to go back to Seoul in high school, so Iâm happy youâre able to thrive there now,â she says, although thereâs an edge to her voice that you know means sheâs more hurt than she wants to let on.
âBut it isnât fair to you.â
She shrugs again. When she looks at you, thereâs a small smile on her face that looks a little too forced. For as long as youâve known her, Chaewon has been wholly averse to conflictâthis is probably the hardest sheâll scold you for being so absent. But because itâs from her, itâs an effective reminder to be a better friend.
You canât help but put everything and everyone here in the same corner of your mind. You thought that to move on from one person, youâd need to move on from everyone, even Chaewon. You can only hope itâs not too late to start realizing how much of a fool youâve been.
âLook, I didnât get you all the way here to talk about this. I just wanna know how youâve been.â
âIâve been good, Chae, really. And now itâs your turn to present your life to me in excruciating detail.â
She chuckles and says, âFine, but weâll need a refill for this.â
âWhat? Has it been bad?âÂ
In the doorway, she turns around to look at you. âOh, not for me. My lifeâs been so awesome that youâll need to drink your jealousy away, babe.â
And indeed, when she comes back and tells all about her life recently with a dreamy look in her eyes, it isnât that youâre jealous per se, but that you realize this is the life a lot of people wish forâmarried with a nice house before thirty, and children soon, if you know her at all. And you agree these things sound nice, but theyâre not what you want for yourself right now. Sure, there have been hurdles: her parents-in-law are pretty conservative, but Jaemin always stands up for her, and her job as an elementary school teacher can be very tiring, but, she says, âhaving someone like him to come home to makes everything so much easier.â Sheâs always had a sentimental streak to her, but this close to the wedding, you can tell her love for Jaemin has never been so strong. Youâre reassured to see it doesnât stop her from ordering him around as usual, or scolding him when he puts the chocolate sprinkles on top of the blue frosted cupcakes even though she told him at least a million times that the star-shaped sprinkles went on those.Â
âBut the star-shaped ones taste like nothing, honey,â he says. You shake your head even if he canât see you. Chaewon gasps like he just told her to go fuck herselfâand in her eyes, itâs probably as though he has.
As much as she hates arguments, this is something sheâd lay her life down for. She heads into the kitchen to give him a piece of her mind, leaving you to reflect over her words. It makes everything so much easier. You do wonder what that must feel like, to have someone to come home to after a long day instead of a silent glass of wine. At least the wine canât judge you.
The two glasses of Chaewonâs pink mixture must really be getting to your head, because when she sits back down next to you, face flushed from a heated conversation about sprinkles, you find yourself telling her whatâs on your mind. âIâve almost had that a couple times, you know. Someone to come home to,â you say, feeling her gaze on the side of your face as you keep yours on the garden in front of you. âI did tell you about some of the guys I dated.â
âYeah, and you always seemed super unfazed about the break-ups.â
âI was. I always expected it to end one day or another, so I wasnât so surprised when that day came.â Her hand on your forearm is warm, anchoring, silently telling you that itâs okay to go on. âItâs not that I donât want that life. But whenever they started talking about meeting their parents, or moving in together, let alone get married⊠It just freaked me out. The idea of someone being so close to me, eventually knowing so much about me. Howââ You interrupt yourself, taken aback by the tears you feel pooling in your eyes. You turn to look at Chaewon, and something in her expression, in the familiarity of her features, makes you take a deep breath and keep talking. This is Chaewon. She wonât make fun of you for crying. âHow do you do it, Chae? How do you trust someone to still love you when they know about all the worst sides of you?â
âOh, honey,â she whispers, standing up to wrap her arms around you. A few silent tears stream down your cheeks, hopefully not staining her dress, as you hug her back tightly. âWhat about me? Minji, Yunjin? What about Jaeyun?â
Her voice seems to soften on his name, or maybe itâs your heart that softens upon hearing it. A part of you thinks he may be at fault for your unsatisfactory love lifeâknowing heâs out there makes it harder to fall for someone else. But thatâs something you couldnât admit to Chaewonâyou can barely admit it to yourself as it is.
âIâm sorry,â you say, sniffling against her shoulder. âI shouldnât be doing this today, of all days.â
She shushes you. âNo, no, itâs okay. Iâm glad youâre letting it out. Listen.â She crouches in front of you, brushes away strands of your hair that got stuck in your wet eyelashes. âThereâs nothing monstrous about you that would drive anyone away. Youâre more cautious than most of us when it comes to relationships, and thatâs okay. It just means that when you finally do give your heart to someone, theyâll be all the more deserving of it. And I promise you that someone is out there.â She smiles, adding, âMaybe closer than you think.â
âWhatâwhatâs that supposed to mean?â
âCome on,â she says with a laugh, unfolding from her crouch and holding her hand out to you. âYour makeupâs all messed up. Iâll help you fix it before everyone else gets here.â
In her upstairs bathroom, she pushes off all the clothes laying haphazardly on an armchair and instructs you to sit there. With four cocktails between the two of you, everything becomes funnyâyouâre both laughing so hard at the shape of her mascara tube that it takes her five minutes to properly apply the makeup to your lashes. She keeps scolding you for scrunching your eyes in laughter and stopping her from doing her job, as if sheâs not the one who canât see through the tears in her eyes. âNow my mascaraâs running!â she complains when she sees her reflection in the mirror.
Like little girls playing around with their motherâs beauty products, she applies eyeshadows of all colors on your lids, tries out a different lipstick on each half of your lips to see which one fits you best. You look ridiculous, but youâd probably let her keep going for hours if it wasnât for the sudden ring of the doorbell. You both freeze mid-laughing fit as if the whole point of this evening wasnât for people to come over, the blush brush in Chaewonâs hand floating inches from your cheek.
âWho is it?â you whisper, unable to tell who it is from the voices mixing with Jaeminâs downstairs.
âSounds like Jeno and his new girlfriend,â she whispers back. âYou havenât met her. Sheâs way too cool for him.â
âAs are all of Jenoâs girlfriends.â
Chaewon nods. Before she can say anything else, Jaeminâs voice rings out in the house, calling out for her. âBe down in a minute!â she shouts back, then turns to you. Her energy seems to have shifted from when you were laughing around together when she says, âLetâs get this off you. I made you look a little crazy.â
As she douses a cotton pad with makeup remover, you ask her quietly, âAre you okay?â
With the cotton over your eyes, you canât see her expression, but youâve known her long enough to picture it. The tight lips, the slightly furrowed eyebrows. âIâm okay, just a little nervous,â she says. âItâs been a while since weâve had this many people over at once.â
Your surprise only lasts a secondâalthough Chaewon had appeared nothing but excited every time you talked about this weekend, you remember how sheâd grow anxious in the last moments before any party she threw. You take the cotton pad from her hands, holding onto her wrist as you look earnestly into her eyes. âItâs going to be an amazing evening, Chae. Youâre the best hostess in this town. The food looks great, as it always does, and everyoneâs going to be ecstatic to see each other again. And to congratulate you! Youâre getting married in two days!â
A small smile was forming on her lips as you spoke, but itâs the mention of her wedding that really seems to do the trick. âI am,â she says quietly, smiling down at her feet like a giddy schoolgirl.Â
âAnd your fiancĂ©âs waiting downstairs for you. Along with Jeno and his cool girlfriend.â
She sighs deeply. âYouâre right. Iâve been busy all day getting everything ready, and now that thereâs nothing left to do, Iâm panicking.â
âThereâs no reason to,â you tell her, squeezing her wrist warmly. âGo. Iâll take care of my makeup.â
With a quick hug, Chaewon thanks you and heads downstairs. In the mirror, it really does look like a small child had far too much fun on your face. Wiping it all off with her cleansing oil and digging through her pouch for liner and a lip tint, you remember all the evenings spent at your auntâs house, her combing through your closet before a party because your aunt let you buy little tops that her parents would have a seizure seeing her wear. For once, the roles are reversed.Â
Calming her down has had the same effect on your nerves, although the heavy doses of vodka and prosecco in the cocktails mightâve helped. Your heart is only slightly beating faster than usual as the doorbell rings again, the voices of more people filling Chaewonâs and Jaeminâs living room. For some reason, youâre worried that coming downstairs as theyâre all greeting each other will be more awkward than meeting them out in the backyard, so you wait until it sounds like theyâve left the room. But your plan isnât so successfulâyouâre halfway down the stairs when the door opens again, the person entering seemingly familiar enough to this house to come in without announcing their presence. Your body registers the sight of him first, heart dropping to your stomach, electricity reaching all the way to your fingertips before his name has even made its way to your brain.
âJaeyun,â you breathe out, the wind knocked out of you as though you didnât see him mere hours ago and as though you were unaware of his being here tonight. What is wrong with you? Are you sure Chaewon didnât lace your drinks with something else?
His smile has the power to reassure you and double your nerves all at once. He waits for you, watching as you make your way down the remaining stairs. âLong time no see,â he says when you reach him, an infuriatingly charming grin on his lips. You canât bite back the one growing on your own. âI hope you didnât miss me too much.â
âIt was a struggle, but I made it through.â
He chuckles, and a few seconds pass in which you donât quite look at each other; youâre about to offer to join the others in the yard, but he speaks first. âYou look beautiful.â Three simple words, but coming from Jaeyun, and spoken with that low, intimate tone, they pack a punch.
You hope you donât look too obviously flustered as you gaze down at yourself, picking up the hem of your dress and rubbing the fabric between your fingers self-consciously. âThanks, Yun,â you say, voice barely above a whisper. You give yourself a few seconds to assess him, and the conclusion you come to doesnât help your stateâyouâve seen him wear white button-ups dozens of times before, at school events and fancy gatherings, but you swear his arms didnât always fill out the sleeves so perfectly, straining ever so slightly against the fabric. And sure, not having it buttoned to the top is fine, but are three undone buttons really necessary? You stop yourself from making a comment about cleavage and return his compliment instead. Then, with a frown, you tell him the others are already outside and turn on your heels.
Behind you, you hear a chuckle, then the sound of his footsteps following you. You thought itâd be nice to have Jaeyun around, a familiar and reassuring presence to look for if you ever felt awkward or out-of-place tonight, but it turns out it might be more distressing than anything.
Outside, all the newcomers, save for Jenoâs girlfriend, greet you with wide, surprised smiles, like they canât believe you actually made it all the way here. Most of your old classmates have stayed in the areaâone has gone abroad, a few have moved to Daegu, the closest big city, but for the most part, they either still live here or in nearby, somewhat larger towns with more job opportunities. Thatâs why theyâve remained such a tight-knit circle, why everyone knows everyoneâs business, and why you were much more nervous than anyone should be at the idea of going to their high school reunion. Your distance is all the more obvious by their lack thereof.Â
No one is showing you open hostility like in the worst-case scenarios youâd dreamed up, so you must be doing a good job at smiling and catching up with them and being normal with your hands, although you gladly accept the champagne glass Jaeyun hands you, thankful for something to keep them busy. And you find that itâs nice to be here. Itâs nice to know Yurim and Jimin are as inseparable as ever and are planning to do the whole baby-at-the-same-time thing (once they manage to both find a boyfriend). Itâs nice to see Jeno start to look less like a nerd over time, but that he hasnât lost his ability to bag the most beautiful women youâve ever met, like Giselle, who he very proudly introduces you to, and who is indeed way cooler than him. She volunteers at the animal shelter in her free time and DJs for huge techno clubs in the city on the weekend, so to be fair, sheâs cooler than most people.
As more people start trickling in, instead of retreating into yourself, you relax. The weather is perfect, the sun making its slow, lazy descent into the night, a warm summer breeze coming through; people are happy to be here, to see each other, to see you; when Chaewon isnât frantically running around, making sure that everyone is doing okay and that there are enough mini-fours to go around, she actually looks like sheâs enjoying herself.
And thereâs Jaeyun. Itâs not that you mean to notice him, but your gaze keeps drifting to him of its own volition. He moves through the crowd with ease, clearly surrounded by people heâs comfortable with, always being pulled into conversations or making small talk with everyone he bumps into. His eyes seem to find yours often, and every time, he smiles at you like he knows something you donât. Instead of quickly turning away like he used to as a teenager, unashamed at getting caught, his eyes linger on your face before slowly returning to whoeverâs talking to him.
Thereâs a really annoying moment when heâs standing by the barbecue, keeping Jaemin company while he grills sausages and skewers, holding a bottle of beer in one hand, talking and laughing seemingly without a care in the world, as though he doesnât know, or care, how infuriatingly hot he is. Hair pushed back from his forehead, a slight blush on his cheeks from the heat of the grill, that stupid third button still popped open. He looks like he was taken straight from the front cover of a menâs magazine, and it shouldnât be this attractive, but it is, and thereâs nothing you can do about it but down the rest of your champagne glass.
Somethingâs different about him. Despite having seen him over the years, all this time, whenever youâve thought of Jaeyun, the person who came to mind was fifteen, sixteen, seventeen. A little shy, especially around girls, but with a smile that could charm a rock and that he hadnât yet discovered the power of. The pant legs of his school uniform were a little too long because he was sure heâd have one last growth spurt in your final year of school after seeing Heeseung go through one. He never did, then couldnât be bothered to exchange them or get them hemmed. They got soaking wet every time it rained. Of course some things have remained unchangedâheâs still as attentive as always, remembering small things about people, asking them about it, and listening with genuine interest when they answer. He doesnât try to make things about him, and he doesnât get annoyed when they ramble on for minutes on end without ever returning a question. Itâs hard to pinpoint exactly what it is that feels so new about him, so unfamiliar in this exciting, intriguing way.
After observing him through careful, discreet glances (which he seems to notice half of), you come to the conclusion that itâs in the way he carries himself. He stands straighter, walks with more confidence, and has figured out what to do with his arms. Heâs always been a human magnet: old ladies made conversation with him in grocery lines, strangers stopped him in the street for directions, he was elected class president every year without ever putting himself forward. You remember the pressure he used to feel because of it, like he couldnât bear to let anyone down although he was sure itâd inevitably happenâbut now, he seems completely at ease with all this attention on him. Not like heâs gloating, but like heâs in his element.
Eager to avoid his gaze and the dreadful feelings it causes in you, you move around the backyard as often as he does under the guise of catching up with as many as you can, always managing to be part of a different group than he is. And you drink. Everyone does, so youâre not embarrassing yourself on your ownâitâs a known fact that Chaewon can and will feed an army, so her guests bring tons of alcohol to make up for all her efforts. Your glass never goes empty for long simply because no one lets itâyou could refuse, but you donât.Â
You spend thirty minutes stuffing yourself with Chaewonâs cucumber salad and getting all the staff drama of your old school from Yunjin, who now works there as an English teacher. When sheâs done telling you about the affair between the vice-principal and your Year 11 Geography teacher, she takes you aback by asking, âSo, whatâs up between you and Jaeyun?â
Back in high school, people often mistook you for a couple or joked around about you liking each other, so you do as you did thenâyou laugh it off, saying thereâs nothing there. That doesnât seem to satisfy Yunjin, however. She tilts her head at you, asking, âAre you sure? He seems so⊠attentive to you. Just now at the buffet he stopped you from getting the potato salad because thereâs mustard in it. And in high school he was always running around doing things for you. All the girls were jealous of you.â
Your smile feels frozen, plastered on as you stare down at your plate. âThatâs just Jaeyun. Heâs nice to everyone, it doesnât mean anything.â
âY/N,â a voice says, but it definitely does not belong to Yunjin. Not only does it come from behind you, itâs also much too deep to be hers. When you lift your head, sheâs looking right over your shoulder, surprise written all over her features. You turn around to find Jaeyun standing there, handing you a hot dog. âDelivery,â he says, tone light, but his closed-off expression betrays him. You donât know how much of your conversation he heard, but he mustâve not liked it. Youâre not sure whyâitâs not like you lied. Jaeyun is nice to everyone.Â
You bite into the bread. It has all of your perfect toppings for a hot dogâketchup, fried onions, shredded cheddar and jalapeños. When Yunjin leans towards you, a hand on your arm as she says, âI donât think it doesnât mean anything,â you wonder if sheâs right.
A few drinks later, youâre stumbling inside the house, headed for the bathroom, when a hand wraps around your wrist. It belongs to none other than Jaeyun, whose expression is a mix of amusement and concern. Now that all the foodâs come out, the kitchen is dark, bathing in the fairy lightsâ glow from outside and from the few other lights in Chaewon and Jaeminâs garden. And itâs empty, save for the two of you. Itâs only the copious amounts of alcohol running in your blood that makes you think how enticing he looks in this semi-darkness, or that makes you imagine the affection you think you see in his eyes.
Of course youâd spend all evening avoiding him only to find yourself face-to-face alone with him suddenly like this. You look down at his fingers on you, and he lets go.
âHere.â With his other hand, he offers you a glass of water.
âIâm good,â you say, trying to sound casual, but you donât like the close attention heâs paying you. Or maybe youâre embarrassingly drunk and heâs sending you a message. In any case, itâs always been hard for you to accept Jaeyunâs small gesturesâyou always have to remind yourself heâs doing it out of the goodness of his heart and not because he especially cares about you.Â
âY/N.â The way he says your name makes lightning zip down your spine. His voice is stern, but thereâs a certain warmth to it. Like youâre being unreasonable, but cutely so.Â
You take the water from his hands and down it in one go. âHappy?â
âVery,â he says, a smirk on his lips that you frown at as he takes the cup back and places it in the sink. He rests his hands behind him on the counter, eyes searching your face, and you, for some reason, stand there and let him instead of going to the bathroom like youâd originally set out to do. Even as silence stretches out between you, your feet are frozen, and youâre finally courageous enough to meet his gaze without backing down. Even as his eyes scan your face, settling on your lips, and your heart threatens to give out. Even as he takes a step towards you and your chest starts visibly heaving up-and-down with every breath you take.
When heâs standing in front of you, he finally speaks, his voice unlike youâve ever heard it beforeâlow, vulnerable, and with a hint of ruggedness that makes your head spin. âHave you been avoiding me?â
âNoââ
âDonât lie to me, Y/N, please.â He sounds like heâs seconds away from pleading with you. Heâs never been one to hide when heâs hurt, so youâve heard him many times like this, but never when you were the cause of his upset. It was always because of a bad grade, a fight with his parents, a joke he took the wrong way. You wouldnât know if you ever hurt him before, because heâs never come to you about it. It feels weird knowing youâre capable of such a thing.
âIâm nâOkay, yes, Iâm avoiding you a little bit,â you say in a small voice. Whether itâs the look on Jaeyunâs face or the last cocktail you had, but you canât bring yourself to pretend.Â
But you belatedly realize that of course, answering this question will only bring about another, much harder to answer: âWhy?â
So you make up another lie thatâs about as believable as the first one. âIâI donât know, Yunnie. Iâm just trying to speak to as many people as I can.â
âBut not me?â
Is he drunk? He always got whinier after drinking. That must be it. Although his voice isnât whiny at allâheâs not complaining, he rather sounds like he has answers he wants from you and is set on getting them. But itâs the only explanation you can come up with.
Youâre unable to keep his gaze anymore. Looking down at the floor, you say, âWe spoke earlier. Weâre speaking now.â
âYeah, and I practically had to corner you for it.â The vulnerability has left his voice and he sounds⊠frustrated?Â
He crosses his arms over his chest, and despite yourself, your eyes follow the movement. Heâs rolled up his sleeves, letting out his forearms on full display for you. Thatâs an image you immediately need out of your head, so you make the mistake of looking up at his face again, only to be met with his jaw locked tight, his eyebrows slightly furrowed, and the intensity of his eyes staring right into yours.
Heâs allowed to be mad, but does he have to look so good doing it?
As if he wasnât close enough already, he takes another step towards you. It forces you to look up at him, and the sight of his face so near yours is devastating. You can already tell itâll haunt you for nights to come.
âDo I make you nervous, Y/N? Is that why you donât want to be around me?â
You inhale sharply, audibly, and the sound seems to amuse Jaeyun. The way he smirks down at you should be condescending, but he manages to make it impossibly attractive. Like he has you exactly where he wants youâwhich doesnât make any sense. You donât understand why heâs doing this, why itâd upset him that youâd rather talk to other people than to him, how heâs figured out the reason youâre avoiding him is the butterflies gnawing at your stomach every time your gazes intertwine. Heâs never done any of this before.
âNo,â you find yourself saying, but itâs an obvious lie to both of you. Youâre breathless uttering that one word, fingers shaking from the tension in your body and Jaeyunâs proximity.
Then he sighs, and the Jaeyun you know is returned to you. A little tired by your antics, maybe, but more worried than anything. âIâll take you home when youâre ready to go.â
âButââ
âNo buts. Just come get me when you want to leave.â And with that, he turns and heads back outside, leaving you to wonder what that was all about as you wobble your way to the bathroom.
When you come back out, you make a point of sitting in the empty lawn chair next to Jaeyun and joining the conversation heâs in. He smiles at you and you glare at him, feeling like a scolded child.
Maybe alcohol makes you a little immature.
Youâre having a grand old time listening to Jenoâs and Giselleâs travel stories, but as people slowly start making their way home, aware of the weekend full of festivities theyâve got ahead of them, dread sinks in. When the partyâs over, youâll be left alone with Jaeyun. Thankfully, thereâs enough alcohol left to throw another party, and you serve yourself a couple of very generous cranberry-vodkas to prepare yourself for later. Maybe if youâre passed out in Jaeyunâs car you wonât have to talk to him.
When the gardenâs really starting to empty out, you find a small moment during which Jaeyun is busy chatting with Jaemin and some other guys, and stealthily approach Chaewon to tell her youâll be on your way now.Â
âArenât you leaving with Jaeââ
You interrupt her with a hand to her mouth. Even though heâs across the yard from you, you donât want to risk it. âIâll see you tomorrow,â you whisper, then tip-toe your way around the backyard to the front of the house, where your bike waits for you. Somewhere deep in the back of your head, part of you has remained sober enough to tell you how bad an idea it is to bike home after drinking so much. You wouldnât run into many cars at this time of night, but itâll be dark, and the ditches are deep here.Â
But you couldnât have predicted for your best friend to betray you. Just as youâre succeeding on your third try to swing your leg over your bike, you hear her voice, clear as day, shouting, âJaeyun! Y/Nâs leaving without you!â
You swear he teleports over to you. You freeze, hoping that moving as little as you can will turn you invisible.
It doesnât work.
âWhat are you doing?â Jaeyun asks as he makes his way over to you. Youâre relieved when he doesnât sound annoyed, just concerned. He stands in front of you, two hands on your bike handle right next to yours. âI told you to come get me when you were ready. You canât go home on your own like this.â
âSure I can.â You try to hoist yourself up onto your seat, and immediately lose balance, stumbling to the side. Thankfully, Jaeyunâs hand finds your waist before you can fallâit steadies your body but not your heart.Â
âCome on, Y/N. Letâs get you to bed.â
Does he hear himself? Heâs just being a good friend, so why does he have to phrase things in such an intimate way, and make your heart go all pitter-patter like the sixteen-year-old you once were? Why does he have to speak to you in that low, affectionate tone of his, like youâre someone he canât help but take care of?Â
You take a deep breath, resigning yourself to your fate. âOkay.â
He helps you off of your bike and into his car. His hold on you is gentle but firm, and you try your very hardest not to think about whether this is how he would hold you in other situations. Before he can even turn on the ignition, you close your eyes and pretend to sleep. You hear him chuckle, then back out of Chaewonâs and Jaeminâs driveway. Once or twice, you hear him inhale as though heâs going to speak, but he seems to decide against it. A ten-minute bike ride makes for a very short car ride, and before you know it, heâs already pulling up in front of your auntâs house. You keep your pretense up as he walks around the car and opens your door, and youâre sure you make a very convincing show of waking up and being sleepy.
As he takes your hand to help you out of the car, you ignore your instincts yelling at you to jump away from him. You tell yourself itâs only so you don't get caught in your lie that you let him slip an arm over his shoulders and guide you to your front door. It has nothing to do with the fact that your skin tingles everywhere it touches his, or that it feels terribly nice to be handled with so much care and patience. The front door is unlocked, and he holds you steady as you slip out of your shoes. Only when he closes the door behind you do you snap out of it.
âThank you, Yun. Iâll be alright from here.â
He narrows his eyes at you. âIâm not sure you will. I donât trust you not to trip up the stairs.â
You panic as he leads you further inside the house. âButâWhat if my aunt sees us?â
He stops in his tracks, then turns his head to look down at you with something you think is mischief in his eyes. âWhy? What about it?â
âShe might misunderstand!â you whisper-yell.
âWhatâs there to misunderstand, Y/N? Iâve taken you home drunk a dozen times before. Besides, Iâm just Jaeyun, right? This doesnât mean anything.â Youâre left speechless. So he did hear you earlier, and although he kept his tone light-hearted, something makes you think he isnât entirely unoffended. You stare at him, sure the guilt on your face is obvious. Eventually, he sighs, starts walking again. âIâm just teasing you.â
Despite yourself, you are glad heâs there to help you up to your bedroomâthe stairs are remarkably wobbly tonight. Even though he tries to sit you down gently onto your bed, you let yourself flop on the mattress, already half-asleep the moment your back hits it. Youâre uncharacteristically pliant as he guides you into a more comfortable position, lifting your head to rest on your pillows, pulling your duvet over you. You somehow feel more drunk now than you were leaving the party, as though Jaeyunâs touch and proximity are stronger than any alcohol. Maybe thatâs why you suddenly find this situation hilarious. Your first chuckle makes Jaeyunâs hand freeze on your blanket; then, when giggles start pouring uncontrollably out of you, he asks you whatâs so funny, and has to shush you, saying youâll wake your aunt up. But you can tell heâs amused, and it only makes you laugh more.Â
âSeriously, whatâs gotten into you?â he asks, sitting next to you. For some reason, the dip of his weight on the mattress feels reassuring.
âThis is just nice,â you mutter, eyes still closed. âIt feels nice.â
Heâs silent for a few seconds. âWhat is?â he whispers.
âThis. You being here.â
He releases a shaky breath. âIt could happen more often, if you let me. It could happen every night.â
You giggle, because you know heâs just joking around. But you let him, even if it hurts a little bit, and you play along. âYeah, thatâd be nice. I think Iâd sleep a lot better.â
With a delicate finger, he brushes strands of hair away from your eyes. You hum, smiling contentedly at his touch. This is such a nice dream that you hope you wonât have to wake up too soon from. âI think I would, too,â he whispers, voice shaky like he isnât at all happy like you are, which confuses you. âI donât know what to do, Y/N. I want so badly to take care of you, but you wonât let me. I donât know how else to show you how good I could be to you.â
âYouâre taking care of me now.â
âYeah, and youâre so drunk you probably wonât remember this tomorrow.â
He sniffles, and you suddenly get the sensation that this isnât a dream at all. You keep your eyes closed anyway, frowning as you turn your head to the side, tears starting to form behind your eyelids.
âBe back in a minute,â he whispers.
You open your eyes to find him gone. You try to make sense of what just happened, but your thoughts are muddled and hazy, and more questions than answers appear. You donât come to any satisfying conclusions, at least none that arenât clearly fueled by your delusions concerning Jaeyun.Â
When he comes back, heâs holding a tall glass of water. He seems briefly surprised to see you awake. He puts the glass gently down onto your bedside table, then kneels by your bed, grabbing your hand that youâd slipped above the comforter. He looks into your eyes with an intensity youâre unfamiliar with coming from him, and that makes your stomach twist. âListen, Y/N. Youâre only here for a few days, so Iâll be very clear about this. And if youâve forgotten by tomorrow, Iâll make sure to remind you.â He pauses here, takes a deep breath. Thereâs a furrow in his eyebrows as he speaks. He looks desperate, but for what, you couldnât tell. âIâm not letting you go this time. I feel like I keep losing you, over and over again, just when I think I finally have you. Iâm not letting that happen again. I donât want to be apart from you anymore.â
Your mind is reeling. You feel dizzy. You close your eyes, but it doesnât help. Jaeyunâs words are loud and nonsensical in your head. âDo you mean⊠as friends?â you ask, because the other option seems so impossible, even in your inebriated state, you can hardly seriously entertain it.
He sighs, and it sounds like disappointment. âIf thatâs what you want, then Iâll give up on trying to be more. But if it isnât what you want, then no.â
Your eyes fly open. Does that meanâŠ
âIâm in love with you, Y/N. Iâve always been, and I canât take hiding it anymore. Iâll take rejection over another day of pretending all I want to be is your friend. I want to talk to you everyday. I want to see you more often. I canât keep going like this, calling you once every few months and acting like Iâm fine with it.â
Youâre stunned into silence. Even your thoughts are frozen, your mind completely blank. How do you react to words youâve wanted to hear your whole life, and have convinced yourself you never would, not in a million years?
âIââ
âYou donât have to say anything now,â he interrupts, and youâre relieved. âWhatever it is, Iâd rather hear it when youâre sober. Iâm sorry for springing this up on you, I just⊠I think I wouldâve flaked out if I hadnât done it right now.â
He gazes down at you with a fondness youâve only seen in your dreams, and strokes your hair. âIâll let you sleep now. Iâll see you tomorrow, okay?â
âOkay,â you say, surprised you're able to speak.Â
âOkay.â
He seems to hesitate for a second, but whatever it is, he decides against it. He gets up, and with one final glance back at you, closes your bedroom door gently. You listen for his footsteps down the stairs, the sound of the front door, and of his car driving away, and find yourself wishing heâd stayed, wishing for proof that you didnât dream up everything he just said.Â
.
.
Iâm in love with you, Y/N.
You wake with a start. Jaeyunâs voice was so loud in your head, you thought he was standing right over youâbut itâs only your imagination playing tricks on you, you realize with some disappointment.Â
Some moments from last night are blurry or simply inexistent in your mind. Yurim sent selfies a bunch of you took to the group chat, of which you have no recollection being a part of. You have no idea how the marker doodles appeared on your arm, nor who is the artist behind them. But Jaeyunâs words you remember with dizzying, intimidating clarity, the words he spoke to you in the near-complete darkness of this room, and that you donât think you could ever forget, no matter your state.
Part of you has always longed to hear those words, but another part has always dreaded they would be heard one day. You donât know which part is stronger right now. Replaying his voice in your mind, your heart flutters at the same time as your stomach sinks. Theyâre words that have the power to change everything, that perhaps already have, and thatâs what terrifies you.
Itâs already ten in the morning. You wish you could stay here all day, safe under the covers, rehashing those words until they lose all meaning, but you know thatâs impossible. Not only do you have a pounding headache and a mouth drier than the desert to tend to, more importantly, you have a responsibility to be there for Chaewon and the things sheâs planned for today. So you force yourself out of bed and begrudgingly make your way downstairs.Â
Your aunt has already left for work. Breakfast is ready on the dining table, along with a tall glass of water, ibuprofen, and a note that reads: I didnât hear you come home last night, so I assume you had a good time. Take this and eat your weight in bread. Thereâs coffee left in the Keurig. Bless her. You know better than to eat too much, thoughâif thereâs one thing Chaewon takes seriously, itâs brunch, so you know youâll have plenty of food to cure your hangover in just a bit.Â
As hard as you try to divert your thoughts towards anything else, itâs impossible not to think of what Jaeyun said last night. Itâs all your mind circles back to, like a vulture thatâs found its prey and wonât let go. Despite that, the shock has yet to wear off, and you stare into your cup of coffee, searching in vain for answers there.
It took you a while to fall for Jaeyun, then it took you even longer to admit those feelings to yourself. At fourteen years old, stepping foot in Gimcheon for the first time, you wanted nothing to do with the people here. Not with your aunt, not with your classmates. You wanted to wallow in your grief, for the bitterness of the injustice thatâd taken your parents away from you to fully take over you.Â
Jaeyun was one of the people who didnât let that happen. Some of the kids in your class found you odd or standoffish, often whispering behind your back about your sudden arrival in town, but he and Chaewon never failed to try and talk to you despite your extremely low-effort replies, to invite you out for snacks or basketball after class, to send you the lessons you missed on days your body felt too heavy to get out of bed.Â
Nothing in particular happened for you to suddenly change your mind about them. Maybe it was because you thought theyâd stop pestering you if you just said yes, or because you sometimes felt the sharp loss of your friends in Seoul, whose calls youâd all ignored since moving. You surprised your new classmates as much as yourself when they asked you if you wanted to go eat tteokbokki with them, and you casually said, âSure, why not,â as if your acceptance was a daily occurrence.Â
The rest was history. Although it took some more time before you really opened up to them, they accepted you the way you were, sharp edges and all. With them, part of the person you were before could resurface, carefree, happy. You still went home to a mostly silent, grief-stricken relative, who was practically a stranger to you, but at least you could look forward to seeing your friendsâand something as simple as that made life easier every day.
As soon as you thought they started to appear, you tried to squash your feelings for Jaeyun, to no avail. Just when you told yourself you could never be more than friends, heâd bring you strawberry milk from the convenience store he walks by on his way to school. After spending an evening making a list of all the reasons itâd be a bad idea for you to date (itâd be awkward with your friends, you and your sadness would be a burden to him, it was too scary to get close to someone when they could leave you at any time), youâd wake up the next morning with a text that said, Good morning!!!! Did you know that if the Sun stopped shining, itâd take 8.5 minutes for us to realize it??!Â
But I know right away when youâre not shining
:)
Momâs making your favorite shrimp jeon tonight so you HAVE to come over
And even your strongest will wasnât enough against the force of his kindness. You were forced to submit to it, and to suffer for it for years to comeâwhen other girls offered him chocolate on Valentineâs Day. When Bae Sumin asked him to the dance, and you had to ignore his concerned expression as he repeatedly asked you if it was really okay that he went, and all you could do was smile and convince him that it was. When you left for university and you had to stop yourself from asking why it seemed to be making him so sad, so uncharacteristically upset with you, almost like he wanted to punish you for leaving him. When every time you came back after that, it became harder and harder to say goodbye to him again.
You got mad at him sometimes. If something unexpected reminded you of your parents, like your momâs favorite dish being served at the cafeteria, or someone using an expression your dad often said, youâd become irritable, and would be unable or unwilling to explain why. He was so patient with you then, even more attentive to your mood than usual, but the feeling of being treated kindly, like he needed to walk on eggshells around you, incomprehensibly made you even more abrasive. Youâd blow up at him: I donât need your help, I donât need your pity, get off my back, what are you even being so nice for anyways?
And his reply would only drive you further insane: Because I care about you.
Youâd always wish heâd say anything else, something less vague like Because itâs the right thing to do, or Because thatâs who I am, or even Because youâre my friend, but no, heâd say, âBecause I care about you,â and it was worse than anything he could ever say.
Because of course, friends care about each other. Of course they help each other out and do kind things for one another. But you so desperately wished Jaeyun could care for you in another way. And that was the problem: you couldnât stop yourself reading into his actions, devoid of the meaning you wanted them to have.
And there was always that lingering thought: Iâm leaving anyway. You were a city girl at heart. You missed the beauty stores that occupied five floors, the animal cafĂ©s you and your friends had spent way too much of your allowance at, the billboards of your favorite celebrities in the subway, the libraries with their wide range of manhwas for you to choose from. As much as youâd come to love your life in Gimcheon, you knew you couldnât stay. You knew you couldnât live on a nearby campus during the week and come back on the weekends like most of your friends would be doing.Â
At eighteen years old, you wanted a clean break. You wanted to attend a prestigious university, to dress up for class, to have study dates at a cozy cafĂ©, to go out to a club on the weekend and not worry about how youâd get home because the buses stopped running way before midnight. Youâd daydream about the cool job youâd have, the cool clothes youâd wear, the cool people youâd meet. Then youâd go downstairs and see your aunt, and sheâd ask if you were okay with frozen dumplings for a third night in a row. Or youâd arrive at school and see Chaewon and Yunjin shrieking over Got7âs new song. Or youâd get a text from Jaeyun, saying, Cats use physics to land on their feet. Theyâre not aware of it though. And suddenly, the idea of a clean break became much, much harder.
Once you left, your reasons for not confessing to Jaeyun didnât changeâif anything, they strengthened. Growing up didnât make you any less scared of opening up to someone, of letting them see the vulnerable sides of you, and hoping theyâd still love you. Even if you had a positive example in Chaewon and Jaeyun, youâd never experienced it with a romantic partner, and not only did your incessant but unconscious comparing of them to Jaeyun stop you from completely falling in love with the few boyfriends youâve had over the years, your inability to fully bare yourself emotionally to them inevitably caught up to you. Theyâd point it out, trying to coax your story and emotions out of you with kind words, gentle touchesâbut you never wanted it enough to make the extra effort. Theyâd take your independence as a personal affront, like it was a fault on their part that you were allergic to relying on others. Theyâd get frustrated. Some of them would yell at you while you stared off into the distance, numb, wondering if youâd always be like this. Theyâd break up with you, and youâd move on like nothing happened.
The fear of loss still froze your heart into place. Even in the throes of puberty, your mother and father were your two favorite people on Earth. At thirteen, you thought theyâd live forever. You were reasonable enough to know not everyone you loved would dieâalthough the thought of going through that grief again did keep you up at night. A bad break-up was enough to terrify you. And what would you do when you finally handed your heart to someone, only for them to turn around and decide they donât want it after all?
A handful of times, you tried to sit yourself down and imagine, as objectively as you could, what might happen if you confessed your feelings to Jaeyun. You tried, but you never could. It was too scary, with him. As your friend, he was the glue that held you together. If you took that one step closer, youâd be too far goneâand once that happened, who was to say, when it inevitably ended, if youâd ever be able to tape yourself back together.
Youâve had many self-indulgent thoughts over the years, many delusions youâve had to compel yourself away from when he looked at you a little long, grew a little too quiet when you talked about another boy, came up with increasingly ridiculous excuses to walk you home even though it was out of his way. Youâve worked so hard to bury them deep, and here he comes, so late on a Thursday night that it became a Friday morning, telling you it was neither self-indulgence nor delusion.Â
Itâs too much to process with a hangover.Â
Your shower doesnât have the relaxing effect you hoped it would have on your nerves. Even when you turn the temperature as low as you can take it, your skin burns hot at the thought of seeing Jaeyun again, of him repeating himself in broad daylight. By the time youâve dressed and gotten ready, your heart is still racing wild, and youâre no closer to figuring out what the correct attitude around him or right thing to say is.
Youâre tying your shoelaces when the doorbell rings. Of course, itâs Jaeyun standing behind the door, asking you if youâre ready to go to Chaewonâs.Â
You just gape at him. Youâd prepared yourself mentally to see him a little later, with other people aroundâyou hadnât expected this and your brain simply malfunctions as a result.
He chuckles. âI wasnât going to let you walk all the way there. You left your bike, remember?â
From his softened tone and the way he gulps as he awaits your answer, you can tell heâs not just asking whether you remember the drive home. He looks at you, a little expectant, a little scared, and his demeanor relaxes you. Heâs not acting like nothing happened last night, and he doesnât seem overly confident afterâwell, after confessing his love for you. Thatâs what it was, wasnât it? No matter how hard a time you have believing it. It relaxes you because it feels like youâre not worrying alone about this shift in your friendship, about this rearranging of things and feelings. With just one look, he tells you heâs right there with you.
And thatâs all you need.
âRight. Thanks, Yun.â
He stands there for a little, expression morphing into something giddier, more hopeful, and you wonder how long heâd stay there looking at you if you didnât clear your throat and say, âShould we⊠go?â
âYes! Yes, of course, letâs go,â he says, laughing awkwardly, rubbing the back of his head as he turns away and heads towards his car.
Surely, he canât always have been this obvious. Surely, if heâs been in love with you for as long as he says he has, then he learned just as well as you did to school his feelings and make them as discreet as he could. Because if he was acting this way all along, all boyish grins and non-stop glances your way, then you wouldâve had to be the densest person on Earth not to notice.
And it hurts your pride a little to think you mightâve actually been this dense.
After a minute on the road, he asks, âHow are you feeling? Not too hungover?â
âA little. But Iâll feel a lot better after having some of Chaeâs pancakes.â
âYeah. And the pressed orange juice as well. With theââ
ââOranges from her grandparentsâ garden?â you say at the same time, and laugh.
âYeah. Itâs the best,â he says.
âWhat about you?â you ask. âYou didnât drink that much last night, right?â
âYep. Just a beer at the start of the evening, and thatâs it.â Then, he smiles, a little smug, and adds: âWhy? Were you watching?â
You scoff, crossing your arms over your chest as though he was making a ridiculous assumption, when you very well knew you were constantly aware of his whereabouts last night. Of course you noticed him sipping on either water or Pepsi the entire evening. âI was not. But you were able to drive, so I assumed.â
âRight.â That smug smile of his is still fixed on his lips, so you know you sounded just as unconvincing as you felt. âWell, I was watching. And I can tell you you drank something like seven different sorts of alcohol last night.â
For your own sanity, you ignore the first part, and focus on the second. You groan, hiding your face in your hands. âThatâs why my headacheâs so bad.â
Jaeyun reacts immediately. His head turns back-and-forth between you and the road ahead as he says, âIs it? Did you drink enough water? There should be some painkillers in the glove compartment, if youââ
âItâs okay, Yun,â you interrupt, laughing softly. âI took some ibuprofen already. Iâll feel better after eating.â
He seems skeptical. âOkay. But let me know if you need anything, yeah?â
âI will.â
As you feel the tingle of incoming tears in your eyes, you turn your head away from him. Looking out the passenger window, you think how stark the difference is between being on the receiving end of Jaeyunâs attentiveness when you were just friends, and now that you know the way he really sees you. The crushing weight of your repressed emotions is, at last, gone, and youâre only left with a light-heartedness you havenât felt in years.
Is there really a universe where every day is like this? It feels too good to be true.Â
But when Jaeyun reaches out, the palm of his hand facing up as it floats above your thigh, his expression bashful, you think â you dare to hope â you might soon be living in that universe. You take his hand, and the rest of the car ride is silent, like this one simple touch is all the words you need.
Youâre glad you remember what he told you last night. Hearing it again now, in broad daylight, with no alcohol in your system to be blamed for your reactions, would be too much to bear. The mere thought of it has your heart racing, more than it already is from the warmth of Jaeyunâs hand in yours. You look down at it, the way it sits so prettily in your lap, the way his fingers intertwine with yours like itâs what they were meant to do. You crave to touch his hand more, to turn it around and analyze the lines of his palm, to feel the ridges of his knuckles, the smoothness of his nails under your fingers, but you stop yourself. Itâs an art piece in a museum that you content yourself with watching from afar, awed.
Too soon, you arrive at Chaewonâs house. The loss of Jaeyunâs touch is almost alarmingâwhat if he changes his mind and this was the only time youâd get to do this?
But as though he can read your thoughts, he guides you with a hand to your lower back towards Chaewonâs and Jaeminâs front doorâand he pauses before it, gazing down at you with a smile you want to interpret as reassuring.Â
Iâm not letting you go this time. Iâm not letting that happen.
Maybe youâre overly self-conscious, but you swear a few of your old classmates exchange knowing looks when you and Jaeyun arrive together. Chaewon is the least discreet about it, stopping in her tracks when she sees the two of you, a steaming plate of pancakes in her hands, her smile wide as she gets Jaeminâs attention and nods her head in your direction. You want to escape to the kitchen under the pretense of offering your help, but Jaeyun is already pulling out a chair for you and taking a seat in the one next to it.Â
Thankfully, almost everyone is in a state similar to yours, too hungover and tired to really pay either of you too much attention. Their minds are on the food in their plates and the coffee in their mugsâthe atmosphere is relaxed, everyone making quiet conversation with their neighbors. With Chaewon on your right and Jaeyun on your left, youâre free to scarf down hash browns and scrambled eggs without having to entertain anyone. He seems to be pretty engrossed in his chat about soccer with Jeno, and yet, he knows every time you need something, standing up and reaching for the bacon or the orange juice before youâve even said anything. He holds the plate while you serve yourself, then places it back to its original spot, shooting you a smile that never fails to make your stomach twist before returning his attention to Jeno.
Chaewon had kept this afternoonâs activities a secret, only telling you all to have your school uniform ready. Some came to brunch already wearing it, but you and a few other girls go up to Chaewonâs room to change. It feels like being back in a locker room again, a bit awkward, a bit fun, teasing Yunjin for her matching black lace set on this seemingly innocuous day, comparing the stretch marks youâve obtained in the years since you last wore your uniforms.
Itâs definitely odd, seeing yourself in the mirror in that familiar short-sleeved white shirt and knee-length marine skirt. Despite how badly you wanted to grow out of Gimcheon, some things have remained the sameâthat much, youâre forced to admit to yourself when you head back to the living room and see Jaeyun in his old school uniform, a blast from the past. He watches you come down the stairs with a smile, and you wonder if heâs thinking the same things you areâthat youâve never stopped feeling like a teenager around him, and that no matter where you were in life, seeing him was enough to make your dull heart race.
His uniform still fits him okay, although itâs impossible not to notice how his arms and thighs strain against the fabric now, sleeves not quite reaching his wrists. Try hard as you might, your eyes drift to the way his button-up clings to his chest, and itâs clear he isnât oblivious to it. You swallow as you walk towards him, hands coming up to fix his tie like itâs second nature. âSeriously, Yun,â you mutter. âIt was cute when you were seventeen, but at twenty-eight, really?â
He only smirks down at you, making you more flustered than you already wereâand it doesnât help when everyone in the room oohâs at your gesture. You take a step back, but the damage has been done. Itâs like youâre in high school again, rolling your eyes at your friends when they ask if you and Jaeyun are finally dating, pretending like the mere thought doesnât have butterflies erupting in your stomach.Â
âI remember how Y/N used to fix his tie in front of the school gates every morning,â Chaewon says loudly, and you glare at her. âShe said she didnât want him to get scolded by teachers.â Everyone erupts in a chorus of so cute and I canât believe theyâre still not together and Iâm sure they used to have a crush on each other. She looks happy with herself, blissfully unaware of the chaos sheâs created for youâitâs been hard enough acting normally around Jaeyun this morning, you donât need the added spotlight.
He doesnât seem to share that sentiment, though. When he speaks, his voice cuts through the chatter. âMy dad taught me how to tie a tie before middle school. But I was running late once and she fixed it for me. I always messed it up on purpose after that.â He turns to you. Your jaw is slack, your heart a wild, frantic mess. âGuess that trick still works.â
This really is high school all over again. Your classmates act like theyâve witnessed the revelation of the century, cheering and clapping, the boys clasping Jaeyunâs shoulder like he just scored the winning goal. Chaewon squeals. Yunjin pretends to faint. Youâre rooted to your spot, too bewildered to react.
âSo you really did like her back then, didnât you?â Jeno asks, and everyone stops talking, awaiting Jaeyunâs answer with what seems like bated breathâyou included, as though he didnât tell you all about it last night.
He shrugs, but his grin, sheepish and bright at once, says it all. âIâll let you guys come to your own conclusions.â When he turns to look at you, despite the fact that you want to strangle him for putting you on the spot like this, you canât deny that his confession is a little bit â just a little bit â adorable. You think of fifteen-year-old Jaeyun looking at himself in the mirror, proud of himself for putting on his tie wrong, and you canât help but smile. Of course, this only makes your friends crazier, but Jaeyun, as if heâs suddenly decided this was enough attention, says, âIs everyone ready? Letâs head out now.â
Chaewon instructs you all to meet in your high school parking lot. On the drive over, Jaeyun apologizes, asking if what he did was too much.
âItâs okay,â you tell him. âEven if I was a little embarrassed.â
âI wasnât planning on doing anything like it, but seeing you in your uniform brought back memories, I guess,â he says, bashful. âI did say I would remind you of what I told you last night, didnât I?â
You shrug, smile down at your hands. âYou did. But itâs not like Iâd forgotten.â
He doesnât answer right awayâbut then, he suddenly looks over at you, and says, âYouâre really pretty.â
Your stomach flips. You look down at yourself to avoid his gaze as heat creeps up your face. âWhat are you sayingâŠâ you mutter.
âI never told you properly when we were in high school. So Iâm telling you now. I always thought you were the prettiest, Y/N.â
You fight it hard, but you canât bite back your smile. All you can do is hide your grin behind your fist, resting your elbow on the sill of the open window as you turn away from him. For only a brief second, as if spurred on by the confidence his compliment gave you, you change your mindâyou turn to him and abruptly say, âAnd I always thought you were the most handsome.â Then you whip back to the window and grin at the trees lining the road. But you feel his eyes on you, and when you look back at him, heâs staring at you, mouth agape. âYun! Look at the road!â you chide, laughing.
âSorry, sorry!â he exclaims, taking his eyes off you. âButâYouâSeriously?â
You canât believe it, how incredulous he sounds, how he seems as surprised as you felt last night. As you still feel now. âOf course,â you say quietly, feeling shy again.Â
Heâs quiet for a few seconds. Then, âSeriously?!â he repeats, louder, almost yelling.
âRelax,â you say, laughing at his enthusiasm. âItâs not like I was the only one. Half the girls in our class had a crush on you.â
âDid they?â he asks, a shit-eating grin on his lips. You roll your eyes.
âYou only received love letters, like, once a month.â
âBut never from the person I wanted to receive one from.â
You hold his gaze for a second. Then another, and anotherâbut you canât handle more than that. The way he looks at you, you feel too seen. Like he can read your every thought, like he can see your heart beating through your chest, your breath making its shaky way up your throat. It makes you too vulnerable, makes your desire to soak in his affection, to let him keep talking to you like this, too strong. Itâs a feeling too unfamiliar for you to accept yet.
You return to your spot, turned away from him, elbow on the windowsill. âWhatever,â you mumble.
But it seems like you admitting to having found him handsome when you were teenagers is all the confirmation he needs. Throughout the rest of the afternoon, he sticks close to your side. Since school is out for the summer, Chaewon asked Yunjin to convince her higher-ups to let your group have a ten-year high school reunion there. They agreed and got one of the janitors to act as your supervisor, as if you would damage or steal school property. In any case, he follows you around quietly while you and your classmates roam the old, familiar walls, reminiscing about all the stupid things you did, the gossip that felt like the most important thing in your lives at the time, the teachers you hated, the upperclassmen you crushed on. Mostly, you take loads and loads of pictures, reenacting memories, huddling together in front of the classroom door of your final year. Jaeyun always finds himself right behind you in the group pictures, his taller frame so close to yours you can feel his warmth.
He rests his hand on your shoulder for one of the photos, and your brain short-circuits at a touch that you wouldnât have thought about twice as a teenager. Sure, back then, Jaeyunâs touch made you feel giddy, but it was also the most natural thing in the world. Linking arms on the way home from school. Your head on his shoulder during a long bus ride. His fingers in your hair when you let him play around with it. He always said it was practice for his future daughter: âI want her to have the prettiest hairstyles in all of her school,â heâd say, as if she was already here. And youâd think to yourself, Heâll make such a great dad. And although he was someone you could tell anything to, for reasons you didnât like to think too much about at that time, this was something you kept to yourself. Now, you can hardly breathe from a hand on your shoulder. But now, you can also finally admit to yourself why that is.
And with every passing moment, every smile shared, every delicate touch of his hand to your arm, of your fingers brushing against each other, you think that maybe, just maybe, you might finally be able to admit to him why that is.
A while later, when everyone parts ways, heading home to get a few hours of rest before the big day tomorrow, Jaeyun asks you if you can hang back for a bit. Heâs so cute about it, so much like a schoolboy asking his crush out, that you canât turn him down despite the sleep you desperately need.
The soccer field by your school is surprisingly unoccupiedâeven at this time of year, when the school hallways are empty, there are usually teenagers playing here. You yourself used to spend entire afternoons here, chatting with Chaewon while the boys played soccer under the blazing sun. You remember pretending you werenât engrossed in the sweat beading on Jakeâs forehead or the way his cheeks turned crimson with the effort, and cheering for him whenever he scored a goal and turned towards you, yelling out âDid you see that?!â with that puppyish grin on his lips.
You remember the nights you spent here as well, the last summer before you left, when you and your friends wanted to drink without the adults seeing. Youâd lay side-by-side, looking up at the stars as you shared your dreams and fears for the future. If Jaeyunâs hand brushed against yours, youâd wait a few seconds, then move your hand to rest on your chest instead. You always wondered if he noticed it, the small touch, its removal. You know your hand burned with both.Â
He leads you to the soccer field now, his hand warm and gentle in yours, like heâs scared holding on too tight will scare you off. Heâs silent for a while, quietly bringing you down with him until youâre laying on the grass togetherâthis time, you keep his hand preciously in yours, even as your palms turn clammy, even as the memories of being here like this flood in.
The summer breeze has nearly lulled you to sleep when he speaks, his voice soft, careful not to startle you. âI hated the last day of school.â
You turn your head to look at him, but he keeps his eyes trained on the blue sky above. âOf course you did. You were such a nerd, you wouldâve stayed in school forever if you couldâve.â
He smiles, but he shakes his head. âNo, thatâs not it.â His tone is calm, full of significance, which you feel even more when he rests his steady gaze on yours. âIt meant time was running out. It meant Iâd spent five years liking you and still hadnât had the balls to tell you.â
You gulp. Youâre suddenly not in the mood to tease him at all. âOh,â is all you can manage to say.
He laughsâclearly, seeing you flustered is amusing to him. âYeah.â He props himself up on his elbow, gazing down at you in a way that sends your heart into a frenzy. âI got a little carried away last night,â he starts. âWhen Chaewon told me about her plans to dress in our school clothes and come here â yes, she told me before everyone else, donât look at me like that â Iâd planned to tell you today, I had a whole thing written out, but last night, you⊠I donât know, you were drunk so maybe I shouldnât have put so much weight to your words, but it sounded like you might like me back? And I couldnât stop myself. I had to tell you immediately. And today⊠Iâm not mistaken, right? You do like me?â
Tears prickle at your eyes. To think that this has been on his mind for so long, that youâre the reason behind the worried look on his face, that heâs the one asking for your confirmationâyou can hardly make sense of it all. If only youâd looked closer, if youâd been less scared, you mightâve been wearing this exact same outfit, laying in this exact same place, ten years earlier. This isnât to say that you arenât scared anymoreâyouâre terrified out of your wits. But looking into Jaeyunâs face, you donât need to search very long to find reassurance.
âI do, Yun. I really, really do.â
He only stares back at you for a few beats, as if waiting for you to change your mind, to tell him youâre joking. When you donât, his mouth breaks into a wide, radiant smile, and he lets himself fall on his back, hands coming up to hide his face.Â
Suddenly, you realize how real this is. How genuine Jaeyun is. It isnât a cruel prank heâs decided to play on you, but the truth of what he feels for you. For what must be the first time since last night, you let yourself react the way any sane person would upon finding out the person theyâve loved for years loves them back: youâre happy. Unbelievably, indescribably happy. And itâs terrifying when you know this happiness might be ripped from your hands at any momentâbut youâll worry about that later. Right now, all you see is the man laying next to you, his smile full of light, his sweet, glimmering eyes. A small tear escapes your eye at the same time as a chuckle leaves your throat.
He returns to his previous position, grinning down at you while he rests his upper body on his elbow. âOkay, this is totally cool. Iâm not freaking out at all,â he says, making you laugh. His smile widens. He picks a daisy from the ground, reaches for your hand. Tying the stem around your ring finger, he says, âI wanted to tell you this today, in our school uniforms, as a way to get justice for my teenager self. I know itâs silly, but I feel like Iâm only able to do this because he liked you so much.âÂ
But it isnât silly at all. Itâs the nicest, most romantic thing anyone has ever done for you.
He takes a deep breath, looks up from where your hand rests in his, to your eyes. âI love you, Y/N. Iâm sorry it took me so long to tell you. And I canât explain to you how happy I am that I still have a chance after all this time.â
Itâs not a singular tear rolling down your face anymore, itâs the whole waterworks threatening to explode the longer Jaeyun looks at you with those eyes, so tender and full of affection. You roll onto your side, resting your forehead against his shoulder so he canât see your faceâitâs enough that he can hear your sniffling, that he can feel your shoulders shake against him, especially as he wraps an arm around your waist to bring you closer. Your feelings overwhelm youâyou want to cry, to laugh, to hold him as tight as you can, to run away and stop him from witnessing how vulnerable he makes you. With his free hand, he pets your hair, saying he hopes these are happy tears.
âTheyâre very, very happy tears,â you reply between sobs. You probably sound ridiculous, but Jaeyun doesnât seem to mind, holding you through it all.
âGood,â he whispers.
Itâs a shame that it took you this long to realize you forgot something you shouldnât ever haveâthat people are the most important. Not relying on the ones you love doesnât make you strong, it makes you a fool.Â
Jaeyunâs presence is reassuring, familiar, and you picture a life in which you lean on his shoulder and cry when you need to. In which you hold him tight and share every moment with him, not just the happy ones. It sounds so much better than what youâve been doing for the past ten years. He smiles at you, and youâre flooded with the relief and gratitude that this is the life he wants, too.
For a while, he just holds you, the sun shining down on your bodies. This is what you were so fearful ofâJaeyunâs familiar scent enveloping you, his hand rubbing reassuring circles against your back, his hair soft in your hands. Eventually, he says, voice just loud enough for you to hear, âLater, will you talk to me? Will you tell me why you drifted from me?âÂ
Thereâs no anger in his tone, no admonition. Guilt still pangs in your stomach, but thatâs only because you know how badly he deserves an explanation, and because youâre amazed that even now, heâs so patient and understanding with you. âI will,â you reply.
You donât know how long you stay there, laughing at Jaeyunâs anecdotes of all the ways he tried to show you he liked you. All the times he ran home in the rain because you didnât bring an umbrella, all the fish cakes he sacrificed because they were your favorite part of tteokbokki, all the pocket money he spent on your favorite snacks.Â
âI thought about you so often once you left,â he says. âI worried so much. If you were eating well, if you were making new friends at university. Then if your job was treating you well. I wanted to call you all the time, but I didnât want to annoy you. I thought you were moving on, and that maybe I should too. But I never was able to.â
Youâre a little bashful as you tell him that you never did, either. âI compared all the guys I dated to you. And they were never as nice, as thoughtful, asââ
âAs handsome, as smart, as amazing as me, I get it, donât worry,â he teases, and you swat his shoulder lightly.Â
âObviously, but you donât need to be so smug about it.â
âIf youâre going to tell me none of your little boyfriends measured up to me, of course Iâm going to be smug about it, are you kidding me? This is the best news Iâve received in my life.â
You only realize how long youâve been lying there when your phone dings with a text from your aunt, asking whether youâll be home for dinner. Itâs almost seven p.m. alreadyâthe two of you spent three hours, just talking and laughing. He pouts a little when you tell him you should head home, but he obliges anyway.
When he drops you off at your auntâs house, he comes out of the car with you and hugs you tightly before you head inside. âThank you for this afternoon. Iâll see you tomorrow, yeah?â he says, lips moving against your hair.
You nod and, with a quick peck to his cheek, you bolt for your front door before he can react and try to do something crazy, like properly kiss you.
âWait, before you go,â he says as you grab the door handle. Turning around to look at him, breath catches, thinking heâs going to tell you something important, yet another thing that will change your lifeââCan you tell me about those lame dudes you dated again?â
You roll your eyes, biting back a smile. âGoodbye, Jaeyun.â
âYou love me!â
You smile at him, wide and unabashed.Â
Because you do love him. You really, really do.
.
.
You plop yourself on the couch next to your aunt, the latest Drag Race season playing on the TV. She hands you the bag of caramel popcorn and you grab a handful.Â
âI heard a car,â she says. âDid Jaeyun drop you off? Is that why youâre smiling so much?â
You only now notice the ache in your cheeks. âIâm not smiling that much,â you say, forcing your features into humorlessness, but the corners of your lips keep rising of their own volition.
âYouâre smiling a lot. More than you already usually do with him,â she says, giving you a knowing look.
You gape at her. âDonât tell me you knew too?â
âKnew what? That you and Jaeyun have liked each other since you were teenagers? I mightâve had an inkling, yeah.â
Her grin is wicked as you bury your face in your hands, groaning. âSo it really was everyone but him and me.â
âI think you knew,â she says, her tone gentle. âBut you didnât want to admit it to yourself. Especially in the last few months before you left, youâd always get a look about your face when I mentioned him. You never wanted to say you were sad to be leaving, but it was clear you were, if only because of him.â
You frown. âI was sad to leave you, too. And Chaewon, and Yunjin. And Mrs. Kim, because I knew I wouldnât find better tteokbokki anywhere else.â
She shrugs. âSure. But you were sad to leave Jaeyun in particular.â
You fidget with your hands, letting her words sink in. âAnd I have to leave him again in two days,â you whisper.
She wraps an arm around your shoulder, squeezes it slightly. âBut itâll be different this time around, right?â
DIfferent. Youâll call. Youâll make plans for him to come. Youâll let him into your life, into your heart. Youâll let him break down your walls, brick by brick.
âYeah. It will,â you say quietly, willing your worries to dissipate.
You meet her gaze, and she smiles. Jaeyun is only one of the many people youâve kept at bay for too long now.
âCome on,â she says, getting up from the couch. âIâm making meatball pasta, your favorite.â
âItâs your favorite.â
It was one of the few meals she made on rotation whenever she had time to cookâit is your favorite, only because eating it meant you were spending the evening together. You cut vegetables while she seasons the meat, telling each other about your day. Maybe itâs because youâre in such a wonderful mood from your afternoon with Jaeyun, but the atmosphere between the two of you feels particularly light-hearted today, which is why youâre so surprised when she suddenly tells you you should talk about âwhat happened last time.â Your stomach clenches, but you nodâyou knew it was going to happen sooner or later, so you might as well get over it quickly, and she seems to be of the same opinion.
âI know weâre both bad at this, so Iâll keep it short,â she starts, keeping her eyes on the preparation. You really are cut from the same clothâyou continue chopping carrots, glad to have something to do with your hands. âIâm sorry about those things I said. It was an emotional time for both of us, what with Jaeyunâs grandmother and all, but I shouldnât have let my emotions get the best of me. Itâs my fault we never talked about your parents. About your mom. I know you wouldâve liked to, but I never could. And you do remind me of her. Gosh, you look so much like her at your age. But you canât do anything about that, and what I said about looking at you and seeing her, that wasnât fair. It sounded like I blamed you, which is the last thing I wanted to do.
âShe always took care of me, because she was older than me by so many years, you know. She called herself my second mom. And all of a sudden, it felt like I had to take care of her. Itâs ironic, since my literal job is to take care of people, but I didnât know how to, with you.â
âI didnât make it easy. I barely talked to you,â you say quietly. Itâs true that you canât expect the same maturity from a teenager and a young adult, but thinking back on it, you canât help but think you couldâve been softer on your aunt. More understanding. You wanted her to replace your parents while resenting her for it. You made no effort at communication yet pushed her away every time she made an attempt to talk to you.
âYou were so young, and dealing with all that loss. I shouldâve tried harder, but you seemed so independent, spending all that time with your friends, making yourself dinner when I wasnât home. It felt like you didnât need me, and I have to admit, I was relieved. I was hanging on by a thread. I didnât know how I could take care of a whole other human being.â
Your breathing is shallow. You spent so many years struggling, each of you in your little corner, at armâs length from each other but too scared to reach out a hand.
âIt felt like you didnât want me around,â you whisper, head hanging low.Â
âOh, honey.â She drops her spoon and in a second has you wrapped in her arms, the tightest hug sheâs ever given you, tighter than when you first arrived at her house, tighter than when you first left. âIâm so, so sorry. I was so glad to have you here. Sure, it was a reminder that Iâd lost my sister, but you were a reason to keep going. I had to go to work so you could eat. I had to stay healthy enough to work. You were the only person on this planet that needed me. Iâm sorry I didnât do a better job of it, and that I didnât show you how much I needed you. How much I love you. But I promise that I never, ever wished you werenât with me.â
Itâs impossible to keep the tears at bay at this point. Tears start pouring down your face, and at the sight, her own tears quickly follow suitâyou sob in each other's arms, apologizing over and over again, and by the time youâre done, the meatballs are overcooked and yet the best youâve ever had.
Between Jaeyun this afternoon, and your aunt this evening, today has been a whirlwind of emotionsâwith Chaewonâs wedding tomorrow, youâll probably be drained on your flight back to the city. You have half a mind to take Monday off, just so you can rest from your holiday.Â
For now, youâll rest from today. Youâre exhausted, but it takes a while for sleep to claim youâyour mind is reeling, replaying Jaeyunâs words, the unspoken promises they contain. Your heart is still swelling with hope when you finally fall asleep.
.
.
It takes a few seconds for yesterdayâs events to come back to you after you wake up. It feels like reliving them all over againâJaeyunâs face next to yours on the soccer field, his hand in yours on the drive home, the conversation with your aunt that feels like one of many steps towards the right direction. And to think you dreaded this weekend for months before coming here.
When Jaeyun pulls up in front of your auntâs house, sheâs quicker than either of you, opening the door before heâs even reached it and inviting him in for coffee. You make a quick mental note of his outfit, a matching dark green suit and vest with a white button-up that fit him a little too well, the veins that run along his forearms down to his hands prominent and a debilitating sight if youâve ever seen one. Out of concern for your well-being you put that image immediately out of your headâyou really donât need to know how attractive Jaeyunâs hands are.
While youâre trying to gather yourself, with a wide smile, your aunt stares at him sipping his drink, eyes darting around the room awkwardly. Heâs always been a little nervous around her, which confused you back then, but endears you nowâbefore every party he picked you up for, heâd be overly polite, assuring her heâd get you home early and safe, standing with his back straight in your hallway as he waited for you like someone trying to impress their girlfriendâs father. Sheâd wave him off, telling you you could come home shit-faced at three a.m. as long as you were with âthis guy.â
Itâs so obvious that sheâs over-the-moon about him being her nephew-in-law. When he clears his throat, saying, âIâll take good care of Y/N, I hope you can trust me,â like this is the seventies and he needs to ask her for your hand, she laughs in his face.
âOh, Iâm not worried about you. Itâs her Iâm worried about.â
âAuntie?â
She ignores you, slides her elbows on the table towards Jaeyun in a conspiratorial manner. âListen. She can be very grumpy in the morningââ
âAuntie?!â
âAnd she overthinks everything, even if sheâll never let you know about it. She gets all these crazy ideas about people in her head, so just make sure to talk to her a lot so you know whatâs going on up there. Even if you have to force her.â
Youâre glaring at her by the time sheâs done, but Jaeyunâs delighted. âThank you for the advice. Iâll make sure to remember it.â
âGood. Now, off you two go. Iâll meet you tonight for the party,â she says with one last wink at you, unfazed by your I-will-murder-you expression as she gets up to put the empty mugs in the sink.
In the car, Jaeyun breaks the silence first. âSo, grumpy in the morning, huh?â
âOh my God,â you mutter, bringing a hand to your temple like your head aches. âI liked it better when you were terrified of her.â
Jaeyun laughs, reaching for your hand and resting it on your lap. âItâs okay. Iâll cheer you up every morning like my life depends on it.â You purse your lips to stop them from curving into a smile. It doesnât work. âPlus, I canât imagine youâd be grumpy waking up to this,â he says, pointing to his face.
You roll your eyes. âDonât be so sure of yourself,â you say as though you donât agree with himâseeing him first thing in the morning would surely do wonders for your mood, not just when you wake up, but for the entire day.
You know heâs only teasing you, but you have an unexpected problem to deal with now: thoughts of waking up to Sim Jaeyun, thoughts of being in a bed with Sim Jaeyun, thoughts of what usually happens when two people who love each other share a bed. You gulp. When you look over at him, thereâs only a serene smile on his lips. One day in, and youâre already getting carried away. Heâs probably not even thinking about such things, and you feel guilty about the dull ache in your stomach created by the pictures that your brain is conjuring.
When you arrive at the town hall, youâre greeted by your old friends, standing on the steps in their best clothes. The weather is perfect, the sun shining down warmly but a small breeze stops you from sweating your clothes off. Chaewon and Jaemin decided against staying cooped up in a small room before the ceremonyâthey thought itâd be much nicer to be there to greet their guests, and that getting to be around each other would prevent any last-minute nerves.
A little before eleven, Chaewonâs sister and Jaeminâs siblings, as the bridesmaids and groomsmen, start ushering everyone in. Once youâre seated inside and waiting for the ceremony to start, Jaeyun leans down towards you, and, quietly enough so only you hear him, whispers, âShould we hijack their wedding? They havenât been waiting as long as I have.â
You gasp at his words, lightly swatting his chest while he only grins at you, clearly satisfied with your reaction.
âIâm just kidding,â he says. âThis isnât how Iâm planning on proposing.â
âPlanning onâSim Jaeyun, be serious for a second.â
âWhat?â he asks, feigning an innocent tone even as mischief stays written on his features. âIâm very serious about propoââ
Who knows how his sentence ends, because his words are muffled by the hand you put over his mouth.
The ceremony is beautiful, presided over by Chaewonâs dad, who says that in all his years as mayor of Gimcheon, there isnât a marriage heâs been happier to officiate than todayâs. As Chaewon recites her vows, all you can see is your best friend at fifteen, crying because her favorite idol was embroiled in a dating scandal; at seventeen, making vision boards out of her momâs old wedding magazines; at twenty-two, giggling on the phone because, âDid you know Na Jaemin has had a serious glow-up since high school?â
At twenty-five, telling you she hopes youâll find the person who makes you as happy as Jaemin makes her.Â
Jaeyunâs hand stays in yours the entire time. You feel him glancing over you a few times, but youâre too scared that if you meet his eyes, youâll break down crying, and youâve done enough of that to last you a few weeks.
There are many pictures to be taken outside of the town hall, plus the bouquet toss â when Giselle catches it, Jenoâs face turns crimson â so itâs a while before you can all start heading to the cottage that Chaewonâs and Jaeminâs family have rented out for the occasion, for extended family and friends who couldnât be lodged at someoneâs house to stay in. For lunch, the caterer has prepared a large cold buffet with everything from thin slices of meat to charcuterie boards and three types of potato salad.
Itâs a really idyllic place theyâve chosen, especially in the middle of Julyâthe flowers are in full bloom, climbing cream and pink roses spilling over metal trellises, the scent of lavender bushes wafting delicately through the air. Chairs and tables covered in white drapes are neatly set around the garden and huge ribbons made of alabaster-colored gaze decorate a large oak tree.Â
You know from a phone call with Chaewon that as hands-on as she was with the wedding preparations, there was one thing that hadnât been up to her to organizeâthe afternoon activity, between lunch with family and close friends and dinner with a larger number of guests. Jaeminâs sisters had told her theyâd take care of it. âBut theyâre the kind of people who give people missions to do at parties,â she complained. âI once had to win at rock-paper-scissors with three total strangers.â
âBut no oneâs forcing you to participate,â you said.
âIt was a question of pride,â she replied, firm. âI had to make a good impression.â
You can see the relief flood over Chaewonâs features when they announce that theyâve planned a scavenger hunt for this afternoon, and that those who donât wish to partake can hang back and have a rest. The groups are assigned randomly, so youâre separated from Jaeyun, but your teammates are friendlyâJaeminâs great-aunt and Chaewon seven-year-old little cousin make for a surprisingly comedic duo, and you and Giselle, who you can confirm once and for all is much cooler than her boyfriend Jeno, spend the whole time cracking up at their antics.
Jaeminâs sisters have created a list of clues to guide you to different places around the venue, where you need to complete little tasksâeach team starts out with a different clue, and is guided around by the new clues they find at each spot. In the guest book by the entrance, you each describe a memory you share with the bride or groom; by the lily pond, the four of you take a polaroid picture as a keepsake for the newlyweds; behind the bar, thereâs a corkboard on which you can tack heart-shaped pieces of paper and write down your predictions for their marriage. You write down that theyâll have 3 under 3, and Chaewonâs cousin writes that theyâll get to drink milkshakes for breakfastâwhen you ask him what thatâs about, he says that his mom said only adults are allowed milkshakes for breakfast, âand adults are usually married, so maybe thatâs what theyâll do.â
You arrive in fifth place, so you only win a piece of candy eachâbut when you find Jaeyun again, he tells you gloatingly that heâll share his third-place box of chocolates with you. Slowly after that, more guests start arriving, including your aunt. The main room opens up, and you see just how much effort Chaewon has put into all of thisâitâs straight from her Pinterest board, with white roses in the center of every table, tulle curtains draped over the windows, and fairy lights adorning the walls. Candied almonds in small white bags, with a tag that reads C+J, rest on every plate as gifts for the guests. The cottage was the perfect choice for the reception, with its wooden panels that contrast against the cream-colored decorations. Theyâve hired Beomgyu, an old high school friend of yours, as their DJ, and for now, as heâs setting up his station, a relaxed R&B playlist drifts quietly through the speakers.
Youâre seated between Yunjin and Jaeyun. You mingle at first, champagne glass in hand as you catch up with Chaewonâs mom, at whose house you spent so many of your teenage hours. She has stars in her eyes, telling you how happy she is for your daughter, and when she asks whether thereâs a lucky man in your life, you canât help but glance at Jaeyun, whoâs talking with Mrs. Lee, one of his old elementary school teachers, Chaewonâs colleague now. She follows your gaze and exclaims in delight. âChaewon always said you two would end up together! Well, better late than never,â she says with a wink. Someone calls her name then, and youâre left to process her words.
Considering Yunjin and your aunt had you figured it out, it isnât so surprising that Chaewon wouldâve long been aware of your and Jaeyunâs feelings for each otherâwhatâs taking you aback is the fact she never said anything. She teased you just as much as your classmates did, and she did ask you a couple of times if you really didnât feel anything for him (which you always adamantly declined, and you understand now that that mustâve only made her only more suspicious of you), but she never pushed any further. Her words from a few days earlier suddenly come back to youââI promise you someone is out there. Maybe closer than you think.â
You make a mental note to find a minute alone with her tonight, and congratulate her for being much smarter and perceptive than you ever were.
The appetizers start rolling outâJaeyun is still so engrossed in his conversation with Mrs. Lee that you go ahead and make him a plate with a little bit of everything. When you hand it to him, he looks at you like youâve just handed him a million bucks. After you go back to your seat, you often feel him or Mrs. Lee glancing your way, and you have an inkling of what they might be talking about.
Before the main course, the parents give their speeches togetherâJaeminâs share embarrassing anecdotes of their son and thank Chaewon for taking him off their hands; Chaewonâs mom is so emotional throughout her speech that her husband has to take over her parts.Â
The atmosphere at your table during dinner is great, and itâs very entertaining to see the champagne start to get to everyoneâs headsâyouâve only had a couple glasses, and Jaeyun is driving later, so youâre both sober watching your friends exaggerate everything they say and laugh over nothing much. When youâre done eating, his hand often finds yours underneath the table, and it never fails to make your insides feel pleasantly warm.Â
After dinner, the music suddenly shuts off for a few seconds, before Canât Help Falling In Love by Elvis Presley, the song for Chaewonâs parentsâ first dance at their own wedding, which she wanted to turn into a tradition. Everyone watches the couple gently swaying around the dance floor. They look at each other as though they are the only people in this entire room; on this entire planet. After a minute, other couples start joining them; when Jaeyun stands up and offers you his hand, you donât even hesitate for a second.
You feel a little shy, standing before him and looking into his eyes, so you rest your head on his chest instead, letting him hold you close to him and guide you around the dance floor, one arm around your waist, holding your hand in his free one.
âThank you for waiting for me,â you say, lifting your face a little so he can hear you.
He bends down towards you, his lips grazing your forehead as he speaks. âThank you, too, angel.â The nickname is unexpected, and makes your heart skip a beat. When he presses his lips to the top of your head, you think that if this wasnât your best friendâs wedding, you might be debating the ethics of leaving before dessertâs been served. âI promise Iâll make you happy,â he whispers.
âYou already are.â You wish you could live in the way he gazes down at you, eyes warm and full of adoration. âYou make me feel like a teenager. Like Iâm still the sixteen-year-old who got giddy at the thought of seeing you at school every morning.â
âIs that right?â he asks, smile turning a little smug. You like nervous, bashful Jaeyun betterâthis Jaeyun, the intensity of his gaze as it trails down your face until it reaches your lips, the feeling of his thumb roving across your waist, makes you want to curl up and hide your face in the crook of his neck. He makes your knees weak and your breath shaky.
You stop yourself from looking away, eyes set on his as you nod your head.
âThatâs funny, because Iâm very aware that weâre not teenagers anymore,â he says.
You donât ask what he means by that, and he doesnât offer an explanation, so youâre left to ponder his words on your ownâalthough the tone with which he spoke, teasing and enticing, canât leave you with much room for interpretation.
But just as your eyes drift down to his lips, and you swear he leans a fraction of the way in, the song is over. You step back from him a second after every couple has separated, turning towards the newlyweds and clapping for them.Â
Itâs back to 2010s pop after that, and he doesnât let you go back to your seatâthe rest of your friends quickly join you anyway, and even you canât say no to jumping around and screaming the lyrics when itâs Lady Gaga and Black Eyed Peas playing. Jaeyun makes you spin around, his hands firm on your hips during more sensual songs, his worst (or best, if you ask him) moves on display whenever a song calls for it, and you canât stop laughing.Â
You need a large drink of water eventually, and take the opportunity to look for Chaewon. You find her at the dessert buffet, stacking mini brownies on her plate. She looks startled when you call her name. âThese arenât all for me,â she says quickly.
âIâm not judging,â you say, smiling.
âOkay, good, âcause theyâre definitely all for me. I barely ate all night âcause I was so nervous and Iâm famished now.â
You laugh and get a plate, filling it with more food for her before leading her to your presently unoccupied table. âThank you,â she says with an exaggerated sigh as she plops down on Yunjinâs chair. âI love my family, but theyâve been taking up all of my attention. I just wanna come dance with you guys.â
âWeâll join them in a bit. Can I just tell you something first?â
She tilts her head at you, her smile like she already knows what youâre about to say. âOf course. And,â she says, taking your hands in hers, âIâve got something to ask you, too. But you go first.â
You surprise yourself with how easily the words come to youâno hesitation over how to phrase it, no nervousness. They feel so natural, rolling off your tongue. âMe and Jaeyun are together.â
She squeals, immediately throwing her arms around you. âI knew it! Finally! It took you guys so long, I was so close to intervening and playing Cupid myself. Oh, Y/N!â she exclaims, bringing you into another hug, not letting you place a word. âLove is in the air. You know, I think knowing Jae and I were getting married mightâve been the trigger for Jaeyun. When he told me he wanted to confess to you over this weekend, I was ecstatic. You can basically thank me for having a boyfriend.â
You laugh. âThank you, Chaewon. Youâve known all along, havenât you?âÂ
She nods proudly. âIt was always so obvious. Jaeyun told me a few months after high school ended, but youââ She points an accusing finger at you. âYou never did! But you tried too hard to pretend like you were indifferent when I mentioned him on the phone.â
You look down at the floor, feeling a little guilty, a little shy. âI could barely admit it to myself, let alone to anyone else. And I was so, so scared, Chae. Even nowâŠâ You look longingly over at the dance floor, where Jaeyun is clearly having the time of his life, throwing his limbs around with Heeseung and Jenoâwhen he meets your eyes, he waves happily, then returns to what seems to be an attempt at the robot. You sigh. âItâs not like I change my ways overnight, can I? Being so far from him, I donât knowâŠâ
âDonât think about that right now,â Chaewon says, commanding your attention back to her. âJust enjoy it. Itâs what both of you deserve. When you run into a problem, youâll figure it out together. Heâs waited this long, I promise you itâs not a little distance thatâll drive him away now.â
You nod. âOkay. Youâre right.â
âOf course I am. Now, I have some news to share too. And itâs our secret, okay?â
Excited, you shift forward on your chair, inching closer to her. âOkay.â
She gazes downward with a smile, lets go of one of your hands to rest on her stomach. Your mouth falls open, and when she looks back up at you, her eyes shiny, you immediately feel yours start to burn. âIf you say yes, Y/N, youâll be a godmother soon.â
âOh my God, Chae,â you whisper, tears already pooling in your eyes.
She giggles. âJaeyunâs already agreed to be the godfather, so it only makes more sense now, doesnât it? And yes, before you ask, Iâm absolutely using my unborn child as emotional blackmail to get you to call and visit more often. And Iâll be coming to see you in the city and make you take me around cute baby shops and buy me all the food I want.
âOh my God, Chae. Youâre having a whole baby,â you whisper, incredulous. Your heads lean in towards each other, almost bumping as you laugh.
âI know, right? We wanted to wait until our honeymoon was over to start trying, but⊠Well, Iâll spare you the details, but weâve never gone at it so much since getting engagedââ
âAlright.â
âSo, what do you say?â she asks, a hopeful expression on her face.
You squeeze her hands. âHow could I say anything but yes? Of course Iâll be your kidâs godmother. Iâm so honored that youâre asking me, when I havenât been an ideal friend.â
She shakes her head. âDonât. We understand you, Y/N, more than I think you give us credit for. And I trust you to make up for it now, okay?â
You nod, tears freely streaming down your cheeks now. âI will. I absolutely will. I love you so much, Chae. Iâm so happy for you.â
Her laugh is the prettiest sound to your ears. âI love you too, Y/N.â
She leans back, takes a deep breath as she wipes her tears. âIs my makeup okay?â When you nod, she gets up and says, âOkay. To the dance floor!â
Now that theyâve gone through every step and are reassured that their wedding couldnât have gone more smoothly, Jaemin and Chaewon let it all out on the dance floor. What starts out as a pretty big crowd, a large portion of the guests up and dancing, fizzles out as the hour grows late. The more elderly relatives have long retired, and it isnât long before the older adults leave, too, finding their children asleep on random chairs and dragging them out of the venue. Soon, the population on the dance floor is more or less constituted of your high school friends and Chaewonâs and Jaeminâs cousins of your age. When Beomgyu starts to play slower songs around the three a.m. mark, you canât believe itâs this late already. You were having so much fun you had no idea so much time had passed.
The catering crew has cleared the tables and packed away all their silver- and dinnerware, and your friends, in their drunken state, offer to wipe the floors and take the decorations down, but Chaewon and Jaemin shoo them off, assuring them that theyâll be taking care of it with their families in the morning.
You have to admit, now that the energyâs gone down, you start to feel yourself ready for bed, your feet aching from overuse, even though you took your high heels off hours ago to dance with more ease. It doesnât help that Jaeyun stays right behind you as everyone starts heading off, his hand low and casual on your hip as you wave them all goodbye and promise to stay in touch. He only hangs back when you have to say goodbye to Chaewonâyour flight is around noon tomorrow, so you wonât have time to see her again.
Hugging her tight, you tell her again how beautiful she looked tonight and how happy you are for her. You wish her and Jaemin a happy honeymoon, and she winks back, telling you to have fun, too. âBut safe fun!â she yells as you and Jaeyun start making your way to his car. âI love you but youâre not stealing my babyâs spotlight!â
Jaeyun is still laughing as he gets in the driverâs seat, while youâre flooded with embarrassment. âSo she told you, then?â he asks.
âYeah.â
âWeâre gonna be godparents,â he says, grinning. âSome might say weâre moving a little fast, but I think itâs right.â
Youâre smiling impossibly wide. âYouâre stupid.â
âAnd youâre pretty,â he replies, brushing his knuckle along your jaw. Itâs an innocent touch, but just like that, the dull ache in your stomach reappearsâmaybe itâs his proximity all night, all tension and no release, or the fact that itâs the two of you in pure darkness on this late night road, or Chaewonâs comment ringing in your head, but you suddenly find yourself craving for a lot more than an innocent touch. As though he can read your mind, Jaeyun clears his throat. âDo you, um, do you want to go back to mine?â he asks, eyes going back-and-forth between you and the road as though not wanting to miss your reaction.
âYeah,â you whisper. The air conditioning is on full blast, yet your skin is on fire. âYeah. Iâd like that.â
âOkay.â
Youâre silent for the rest of the car ride, mind racing with possibility. Jaeyunâs hand trembles ever so slightly in yours, like he can barely restrain himself, and you agree that the twenty minutes to his apartment are the longest youâve ever had to endure. You play with his fingers, hoping the gesture will be calming to both of you, but the feeling of his skin against yours only makes your heart race faster.
His apartment is on the first floor of a small building in the center of Gimcheon. He leads you up the stairs, fingers intertwined with yours, only letting go to open his door. âLayla will be excited to meet you,â he says as he turns the keyâindeed, youâre greeted warmly by the cream-colored Border Collie. She seems much happier to meet someone new than to see her boring old owner, who notices this with a frown, huffing something about âbetrayalâ and âyour own kidsâŠâ as Layla licks your hands and presents her belly for pets.
âI should probably walk her quickly, she hasnât been out since this morning,â Jaeyun says, an endeared smile on his face as he watches the two of you get acquainted.
âShould I come with?â
Crouching beside you, he shakes his head. âI know youâre tired, angel. Iâll just be ten minutes, you can wash up in the meantime.â
You follow him into the bathroom, where he hands you a towel and tells you to help yourself to anything you need. âWait here a minute,â he says, then disappears into his bedroom, coming back with clean clothes for you to wear. Heâs sheepish as he rests them on the sink counter, a small smile playing on his lips. âHere. They might be a bit big, but more comfortable than your dress.â
âThanks, Yun.â
âNo worries.â He hesitates for a second, then presses a quick kiss to your temple. âIâll be quick.â
Even after he leaves, the smile on your lips is wide and unwavering, your heartbeat fast, your fingers twitchy and impatient. You find lotion to wipe your makeup off with, and have far too much fun analyzing all of his shower products as the hot water runs over your body. You can hardly keep your giddiness in check at the thought of washing yourself with Jaeyunâs soap, drying yourself with his towel, then wearing his clothes and finding yourself enveloped with the delicate floral scent of his laundry detergent. He gave you a navy t-shirt with the logo of his familyâs business on the front and a pair of basketball shorts that reach your knees, and that you have to tie very tightly at your hips so it stays up. You canât help but admire yourself in the mirror, for some reason feeling more like a girlfriend than ever before in your life.
When you hear the front door open, you come out to meet him in his living room. As Layla trots over to her bed, he stops for a second when he sees you, mouth slightly agape as his eyes rake your body. You feel shy under his gaze, but surprise yourself by also revelling in the attention, in the way his desire is so evident in his gaze, in the smirk that grows on his lips as he crosses the distance to you.
âNice walk?â you ask.
âYeah. You look good,â he says, hands finding your hips, shameless in the way he looks down at you now.
In the shower, you were so preoccupied with simply being here that you didnât spare a thought for what would happen nextânow, under the intensity of Jaeyunâs gaze and the effect of his proximity, you feel unprepared, completely at a loss for what to do with yourself.
Itâs lucky for you that Jaeyun, on the other hand, seems to know exactly what he wants to do with you.
âCan I kiss you?â he asks, voice low and gravelly unlike youâve ever heard it before, and it sends shivers down your spines. You donât trust your voice to work properly, so you nod your assent instead.
Seconds pass like eternity between his question and the moment his lips actually touch your lips. One of his hands leaves your hips to find your chin instead, raising it a little with his thumb so your face is perfectly angled towards his. His touch is gentle, more of a request than a demand, and you crave to melt into it, to let him lead you wherever he wants you.
His lips meet yours, delicate and cautious, like he doesnât want to scare you off. They move languidly against each other, giving you the time you need to adapt to this without being overwhelmed. You raise your arms and wrap them around his neck while his hand sneaks its way to your lower back, pushing you gently closer towards him, your chest now flush to his. Fire courses through your veins as his tongue meets yours, deepening the kiss and making your thoughts hazy, incoherent, unimportant.
You never dreamed it would be this easy. One kiss, and itâs like a faucetâs opened up inside you, all the desire and want and longing that youâve kept trapped inside pouring out of you boundlessly. You wouldnât know how to control it if you had toâand thankfully, Jaeyun doesnât seem to want you to. He meets you right where you are, holding onto you just as tightly as you are onto him, moaning shamelessly when your fingers tug sharply at his hair, his head thrown back as you pepper his throat with wet, messy kisses.Â
His mouth doesnât leave yours as he walks you to his bedroom. Only when he sits down on his bed do you get a glimpse of his expressionâthe lust-blown pupils, the reddened cheeks, the lips plump and shiny with saliva. His hands are practically on your ass as he brings you down towards him, helping you into a straddling position on his lap. He presses kisses to your cheek, your jawline, then, resting his forehead against yours, asks with a throaty voice, âYouâre okay with this?â
You smile, wrap your arms tighter around his neck. âIâm definitely okay with this.â
âGood,â he replies, then wastes no time pressing his lips back to yours.
Years of repressed feelings come out in this kissâthat much is clear in its desperation, in the way you both grab onto whatever parts of the other you can reach, like you want to tether yourselves to each other. When you break apart for air, Jaeyun whispers in your ear how long heâs wanted to do this, lips brushing against your skin as he speaks, making you shake lightly in his hold. The longer you kiss, the weaker the resistance in your thighs grows, and you soon find yourself sitting right on his lap, his bulge hard and demanding attention beneath you. His grip on your hips tightens, but itâs the only sign he gives you of being affectedâonly when you roll your hips experimentally against his does he let out a loud moan right into your mouth, which you take as a green light to keep going.Â
You push him down onto the mattress, practically laying on top of him as you grind yourself against him, a small whimper leaving your throat every time his erection rubs perfectly against your clit through your shared layers of clothing. Heâs still wearing his wedding outfit, and when his hands leave your body to unbutton his shirt, you waste no time in helping him, untucking his shirt from his trousers, unbuckling his belt. He chuckles at your eagerness, but you canât bring yourself to feel even a little embarrassedâyou donât think youâve ever desired anything this badly, and itâs messing with your head. Jaeyun looks at you like he could eat you right up, so you decide thereâs no use in hiding your appetite from him.
His hands slip underneath your t-shirt, and your skin blazes with the heat of his touch. They trail up your sides, nails briefly grazing your waist and back before they find your breasts. He gently rubs one of your nipples between his fingers, and Jaeyun curses when you release a moan in the crook of his neck, pressing your crotch against his with more urgency than before. âDoes that feel good, baby?â he asks, voice breathy as you squirm under his touch.
âYes, Yun.â
He hums in satisfaction, one hand on your ass to guide your movements against him, the other alternating between your breasts to pay them equal attention, lips never relenting in their quest to leave no inch of your neck unkissed.Â
Itâs too much and too little at once. A familiar coil tightens in your stomach, and you canât believe youâre already this close to coming undone from thisâevery man youâve slept with before has had to put in a lot more work to get you even near the edge. But with Jaeyun, all it takes is a few minutes of heavy petting and his voice in your ears, telling you how well youâre doing for him, how pretty you look using him to get yourself off.
âThatâs it, baby,â he coos as your moans get louder, your movements more erratic. âIâve got you. Let it go for me.â Itâs all you need for your orgasm to wash over you and leave you a trembling mess in his arms, his hold around your waist tight as he kisses your temple and shushes you gently.Â
When youâve calmed down somewhat, he helps you onto your back, shifting so that your head rests on his pillows. Now that youâve regained your senses, the reality of what youâve done, what youâre doing hits you. Resting on his elbow, Jaeyun gazes down at you fondly, and although you wouldâve reveled in it mere moments ago, the intensity of his attention now only brings heat to your face. You canât quite meet his eyes, a small, bashful smile playing on your lips as you play with the lapels of shirt collar. He must sense this shift in your demeanor, and asks, âDo you wanna keep going?â
Lust pangs low in your stomach. You force yourself to look into his eyes, giving him an almost imperceptible nod. His desire is so obvious on him, and truth be told, you hadnât even thought you might stop here when he still needs taking care of. The smile on his lips grows, but when you reach out to touch his erection, he tilts his head, grabbing your wrist and laying it back down next to your body. âI didnât say I was done with you, baby,â he purrs, leaning down to kiss your neck, one hand slipping under your t-shirt again.Â
âButââ
âIâve waited so long, angel. Dreamed about having you like this so many times. So be patient and give me this much, hm?â
You release a shaky breath. How can you say no when he makes it sound like letting him make you feel good is doing him a favor, and not you? âOkay.â
âThank you, angel. Help me with this?â he asks gently, lifting his t-shirt youâre wearing over your head. Youâd feel shy at lying half-naked underneath him if it wasnât for the way he admired you, like an art lover in front of their favorite painting. âSo fucking perfect,â he mutters, leaving a trail of kisses down your throat until he reaches your breasts. âCanât believe youâve been keeping this from me all this time.â
âIâm sorry, Yun.â Youâre already squirming at this touch, body screaming for more than the feather-like kisses he presses to your skin.
âNo, no, baby. Donât apologize. Iâd do it all over again, knowing Iâd get to see you like this in the end. So perfect,â he repeats, and before you can reply, he wraps his lips around your nipple, tongue darting out to lick at the sensitive bud. Your back arches off his bed, but with a firm hand to your stomach, he stops you from writhing away from his touch.Â
He seems to be content with doing this for minutes on end, lips alternating between your nipples, fingers tending to the neglected one, teeth sometimes gently nibbling at your skin, leaving behind small marks on the sides of your breasts. âThere, now you canât forget me,â he says with a self-satisfied smirk when he leans back to admire his work.
âAs if I could,â you whisper back, hands finding purchase in his hair as you bring him back towards you and kiss him.
But soon enough, another part of your body starts burning from lack of attention, but even as you buck your hips towards him to signal what you need, he doesnât noticeâor doesnât care. âYunâŠâ you eventually whine, hoping heâll understand what it is you want from this one word.
âWhatâs wrong, baby? You need something?â he asks, faking an innocent tone.
So he does knowâhe just doesnât want to give it to you so easily. Itâs too bad for you that youâre famously bad at asking for what you need.
You opt instead for grabbing his hand and leading it down to your coreâsurely, thatâs enough of a message. He cups you over your shorts, and your thighs clasp around his wrist, instinctively attempting to create more friction. His hand slips below your waistband, and he groans, forehead falling against your shoulder, when he finds your lack of underwear there. He has direct access to your folds, and he wastes no time sliding two of his fingers there, humming in appreciation. âSo wet,â he mumbles, seemingly more to himself than to you.Â
âPlease, Yun,â you plead, voice almost a winceâand it is in a way painful, having him so close to where you need.
âIâm here, angel. Iâll give you what you want.â And indeed, the next second, the pads of his fingers are on your clit, rubbing torturously slow circles onto it. On the pillow, your head falls to the side in your search for more proximity with himâyou feel his laboured breathing against your face, and you shift your body closer to him, worming one of your legs between his. As though this is getting to his head as much as yours, heâs silent for a while, his fingers gathering speed on your clit, occasionally sliding down your folds and inside of you. They go so much deeper than yours can, brushing against that spot that has your nails digging into his skin. But as he brings you closer and closer to the edge, you find yourself not wanting to fall right away, at least not like this.
âYunâŠâ you breathe out, wrapping your fingers around his wrist. He stops immediately, raising his head to look at you with unnecessary concern, making your heart soften for him.
âAre you okay? Did I hurt you?â
âNo, no, I justâŠâ
You squirm uncomfortably beneath him, and his expression shiftsâdamn him for understanding so quickly what youâre too shy to say. âYou justâŠâ he trails, smug. Resuming his kisses along your throat, he says, âTell me, baby.â
âYou know,â you huff. He laughs against your skin, and even in your annoyance, the melodic sound makes your heart skip a beat.
âHm, but Iâd rather you tell me.â
You hesitate for a few seconds. Your hand finds his bulge again, and this time, he doesnât stop you. You know he wants this as badly as you do, but if telling him is what he needs, then youâll have to comply. âI needâI wantâI want to come on your dick, Jaeyun, please,â you say, forcing out the words as quickly as you can, face burning in embarrassment.
He freezes. You hear his breathing get louder, more rugged, and itâs a few seconds before he raises himself onto his elbows, fingers at your waistband, dragging your shorts down. The smugness has all but left his features, leaving behind something like sternnessâfurrowed eyebrows, dark eyes, tight jaw. As he lifts over his head the white sleeveless tee he was wearing beneath his button-up, your hands make clumsy work of his trousers, pulling them down his thighs along with his underwear. His cock springs free, tip an angry-looking red, already leaking precum, and you wonder at the self-restraint he mustâve been exercising this entire timeâitâs clearly stronger than yours.Â
You wrap a hand around the base, transfixed by the sight, and he groans. You pump him a few times, reveling in the small moans that leave his mouth, muffled in the crook of your neck, and in the way his fingers dig into the skin of your hips. He doesnât let it go on for very long, soon leaning away from you and towards his bedside table. âLet me get a condom, baby,â he says, voice shaky.Â
âIâm on the pill. You donât need to wear one.â His head snaps back towards you, eyes wide like a kid on Christmas day.
âAre you sure?â he asks, but heâs already coming back towards you, elbows on each side of your face, peppering the side of your face with kisses.
You wrap your hand around his dick again, letting his tip graze your clit before lining it with your entrance. âYeah, I am.â
He releases a shaky breath, finding your hand and intertwining his fingers with yours before he finally pushes inside of you, slowly filling you up until he bottoms out. Slick from your previous orgasm and relaxed from his fingers, you accommodate him easily, only needing a few seconds before youâre already bucking up your hips against him, asking for more. For once, Jaeyun doesnât tease youâhe obliges instantly, pushing into you with slow, precise thrusts that have the coil tightening again in your stomach with embarrassing quickness. It doesnât help that Jaeyun groans right into your ear, whispering curses, muttering about how good you feel around him, âLike you were made for me, baby.â
His free hand slides beneath your thigh and lifts it up to rest it against his hipâthis new angle allows him to go deeper, to hit that sensitive spot with every one of his thrusts. As his movements gather speed, you feel yourself inching closer and closer to your orgasm, and when it finally hits, your nails dig into the skin of his bicep, you throw your head back, and you let the pleasure wash over you, your brain going haywire, a loud moan escaping your mouth.
Jaeyun takes the opportunity to latch his lips to your throat, biting and sucking at the skin there, surely leaving yet another mark for you to find in the morning. Youâre holding onto him like you might float away if you donât, thighs shaking as overstimulation starts to set inâand yet, when he asks with a low, gruff voice whether you can handle some more, you find yourself nodding vigorously, ready to take whatever he gives you.
âThatâs my girl.â
He slips out of you and you whine at the loss. But he quickly fills you up again, first turning you onto your side as he spoons you from behind, lifting your thigh to grant him better access and pushing into you again with no hesitation. In this position, heâs able to snake an arm around you and play with your clit, making you throw your head back against his shoulder. His pace is gentle at first, as are the kisses he presses to the side of your neck and to your shoulder as he lets you adjust to this new, deeper angle. But it doesnât take long for his rhythm to quicken as he seems to be nearing release himselfâhis thrusts get sloppier, harsher, the sounds he makes more desperate.
You didnât think itâd be possible, but between his fingers on your clit, his dick deep inside you, and his filthy words in your ears, a chasm opens within you once more and you find yourself barrelling towards it at alarming speed. With a few final hard thrusts and the feeling of Jaeyunâs release filling you to the brim, you come undone for the third time tonight, your throat tight and scratchy from moaning so much.
Jaeyun stills inside of you. Without sliding out, he wraps an arm around your middle and brings you closer to him, his hold tight and reassuring. His chest is flush against your back and you feel it rise and fall with each of his breaths; your breathing slowly evens out, eventually matching the rhythm of his. With his fingertips, he draws unintelligible patterns across the skin of your stomach and waist. Tiredness makes your limbs heavy like they could sink right into his mattress. You must be mere seconds away from sleep when you feel him slip out of you. You roll onto your back as he grabs a tissue from his bedside table, cleaning you up gently as he presses a kiss to your temple. âHow do you feel?â he asks. âDo you need anything? Some water? A shower?â
You rest an arm around his waist and wiggle closer to him. âJust you,â you say.
âI can give you that. Easy,â he says, the smile audible in his voice.
.
.
You wake up a few times during the night, unaccustomed to sharing a bed with someone elseâand not just anyone at that, but Jaeyun, whose warm body you find yourself shifting closer to whenever you regain half-consciousness and realize youâre not in his arms anymore. He barely rouses as you nuzzle your face in his neck, an arm coming up to circle your waist to accommodate your body against his. You wish nothing more than to stay like this forever, but unfortunately, your faithful alarm clock rings at nine a.m. and as you reach for your phone to turn it off, Jaeyunâs loose hold on you tightens.
âDonât go yet,â he mumbles, voice muffled against your hair, and his gravelly morning voice sends a shiver right down your spine.
You smile. âIâm not. I can stay ten minutes longer.â
He whines, pulls you in closer to him. Goosebumps appear where his fingers slightly dig into your skin. âThatâs not long enoughâŠâ
âI canât miss my flight, Yun.â
âSure you can,â he says casually, and as he starts to press kisses to your neck, you almost think he might be right. âYou can catch a later one. You can go home next week.â
You hum, lifting your head to grant him better access to your throat, shivering when his teeth graze your sensitive skin. âMy boss might have something to say about that.â
Rolling you onto your back, he drops his forehead on your shoulder with a dramatic sigh. âTen minutes, you said?â he asks, with a roll of his hips so small it could be seen as accidental. But with the way his erection presses into you, thick and firm, you have an inkling it was anything but.
âFifteen if you drive fast,â you say, already starting to get out-of-breath.
âThatâs plenty.â
Neither of you bothered to put on clothes again last night, so he easily slides two fingers between your folds, gathering your slick and trailing them upwards until they reach your clit. He seems satisfied with the wetness he finds there, quickly shifting to fill you up with his dick rather than his fingers. And indeed, fifteen minutes are plentyâin the time it takes for your alarm to ring again, heâs made you come twice, his thrusts deep and precise as though he has a knowledge of your body that dates back years and not a mere day. He releases inside of you with a groan.
It does suck, having to leave so quickly. You wish you could lay in bed with him for hours, take a shower so long it has negative environmental impacts, and have a late, hearty breakfast with him. Unfortunately, you have to speed through everythingâyou need to be at the airport at eleven at the latest, and having not foreseen you wouldnât be spending the night at your aunt, you didnât finish packing before the wedding. He seems to be as aware of this as you are, and although he keeps a smile on his lips at all times, you can see your sadness reflected in his eyes at the thought of having to say goodbye, so soon after finally opening up to each other.
But in a way, you find goodbye easier this time around. As you hug your aunt and thank her for letting you stay â at which she scoffs, saying this will always be as much your house as it is hers â youâre armed with the knowledge that youâre on good terms now, and that youâre not going back to another three years of near radio silence. Itâs not an empty promise that you make her when you tell her youâll be in touch.
Youâve never seen Jaeyun as talkative as on the drive to the airport. He blabbers away, filling every second of silence like his life depends on itâyou donât help him, quiet as can be out of fear of breaking into sobs in the middle of any given sentence. You remind yourself that this goodbye is only temporary, that youâll soon make plans for him to visit, but still, your eyes burn at the thought of going home to an empty apartment and falling asleep in a half-empty bed tonight. He must sense this because he eventually tells you, voice soft and vulnerable, âDonât cry, baby.â
You purse your lips to stop them from trembling, turning away from him so he canât see your frown. âI feel like I already miss you,â you say, so low you wonder if he can even hear you.
âIâll come see you soon. And Iâll text and call you so often every day that you wonât have time to miss me,â he replies, but you can hear it in his tone that he doesnât quite believe what heâs saying, only trying to reassure you, and himself, maybe.
âThatâs impossible,â you mutter. Youâre both silent for the rest of the drive, but his hand in yours is warm, and it does more to comfort you than any words could.Â
He parks at the airport drop-off area and gets your suitcase out of the trunk for you. He wanted to park where he could leave his car longer, and go into the airport with you, but you convinced him that the quicker your goodbye, the better off youâd be. You have the sinking feeling you might burst into tears at any moment, and you donât want his last image of you for the foreseeable future to be one with tears streaming down your cheeks, donât want him to needlessly worry or drive off with a weight on his heart.
He holds you in his arms, hands rubbing reassuring circles on your back. âIâll come up as soon as I can, okay?â he says. âIn less than a month, I promise. Any longer and I might explode.â
You laugh. âI donât want you to explode.â
âNo, thatâd be pretty unfortunate.â
With one final kiss to the pretty lips that youâll be longing for until you see Jaeyun again, you grab the handle of your suitcase and walk towards the entrance of the departures area. âText me when you land, yeah?â he asks.
You nod. âI will.â You just stand there looking at him for a whileâyouâre a bit too sad to appreciate the fact that this is your first openly emotional, tearful goodbye, but part of you basks in knowing the separation isnât hard for you only. âI love you, Yun.â
He smiles, a beautiful mix of sorrow and happiness that you want to commit to memory. âI love you more, angel.â
Every time you turn around, heâs still there leaning against his car, possibly overstaying his time at the drop-off, until youâve walked too far into the airport and canât see him anymore.
.
.
Itâs already dark outside when a text from Minjeong lights up Jaeyunâs phone. Just dropped her off, it says. I tried to stop her from drinking so much, but she said she was going through Jaeyun withdrawals, whatever that means. Anyways sheâs wasted good luck lol
He shakes his head. Heâd be annoyed if he wasnât so excited to see youâheâd told Minjeong to keep you outside for a bit longer after work, not get you drunk. But before he has time to text her back, his phone starts ringing in his hand. Smiling, he picks up, your voice immediately filling his ear.
âJaeyun,â you whine, extending the second vowel for too many secondsâMinjeong wasnât just throwing words around when she said you were wasted. You must be in the elevator by now. He has half a mind to come and get you, just in case youâre stumbling around and pressing the wrong floor numbers, but if Minjeong dropped you off at your building and not your apartment, then you must have some awareness left.
He hopes. Thereâs something important he wants to talk to you about, and heâd rather you were sober for it.
âHi, baby,â he says.
This is apparently the worst thing he could possibly say, sensing as you make a noise halfway between a grunt and a whine. âDonât call me baby when I already miss you this much. Weâve talked about this!â
You definitely havenât. âIâm very sorry,â he says, exaggerating his serious tone, but you donât catch his sarcasm.
âYes, you should be.â The telltale beep of your code being pressed into the keypad breaks the silence of your apartment, and Jaeyunâs heart races with excitement. âIâm coming home now, Minjeong took me to thisââ
Your next words get caught in your throat the moment you step inside your apartment and see him, a few meters away from you in your kitchen. You stay frozen in place, phone still to your ear as he crosses the distance between you, smiling so hard his cheeks ache.
âWelcome home, angel.â
Heâs glad to see you arenât in too much of a wretched state. Even in your wide-gazed surprise, your eyes are a bit clouded over from the alcohol, and you arenât standing quite straight on your feet, but the way Minjeong texted him, he half-expected to find you with vomit on the front of your shirt. He steadies you with a hand to your waist, grabs your wrist gently to bring your arm down now that heâs hung upâand right in front of you.
âYouâre real?â you ask, and when he nods, as though that was all the confirmation you needed, you throw your arms around his neck. âMy Yunie,â you exclaim, voice muffled against his sweatshirt, and he has to bite back his laughter. Even a year and a half into your relationship, thatâs a new one. You still get flustered when a pet name escapes your lips instead of his name. Maybe he should let you get drunk more often.
You suddenly lean back, cupping his face between your palms, eyes slightly narrowed as they drift over every inch of his face, like youâre trying to see whether anythingâs changed. He lets you, a small, endeared smile on his lips, glad for the opportunity to admire you in return.
You press your lips to his, a little more forcefully than you usually would, then rest your head against his chest once more. âWhat are you doing here?â you ask. âDid you know I was missing you extra lately?â
âOf course I did. I always know what youâre thinking.â
âOkay. What am I thinking right now?â
He hums, pretends to think for a little. âThat you love me and are so happy to see me!â
You gasp. âYes! Youâre so smart,â you exclaim, hugging him even tighter.Â
Eventually, he manages to get you out of your coat and shoes, and leads you to the kitchen, where your counter is covered in flour and uncooked, homemade dumplings. He only needs to make a few more until he can start frying them. The rice is already cooked, and a miso and vegetable stew simmers on your stove. You make yourself useful by circling your arms around Jaeyunâs waist, your head resting on his shoulders as you watch him fold dough around a beef galbi filling, your favorite.Â
âDo you wanna go wash up before we eat?â he asks softly, afraid that in your sensitive state, you might take his words the wrong way. But to his surprise, you oblige without a word, giving his cheek a kiss before heading to your bedroom.
When you havenât come back ten minutes later, he goes to check on you, and finds you laying on top of your sheets, feet not even on your mattress but still on your floor like you fell back sitting and just stayed there. Youâve managed to remove your makeup and let down your hair, but you apparently ran out of energy before you could change out of your work clothes. Drool pools at the corner of your open lips.Â
Jaeyunâs heart aches with happiness. Every time he looks at you, even like this â especially like this â all he can think is how badly he wants to spend the rest of his life with you. And with every passing day that you stay with him, that you tell him good morning and good night and I love you, he thinks he might have a shot at it.
He sighs, but thereâs nothing else heâd rather be doing than slipping your trousers and blouse off of your frame and finding a large t-shirt for you to sleep in, then guiding your body underneath your sheets. You wake up once, giggle at yourself, and immediately fall back asleep.
A while later, after heâs cleaned up the kitchen, had a little bit of dinner â on his own, which he knows youâll feel awful about tomorrow â and washed up for bed, he gently closes the door of the bedroom behind him, where youâre still in deep sleep.
So heâll have to wait until the morning to share his news. Itâs alrightâhe has the whole weekend to tell you heâs found the perfect house, not too far from Gimcheon or from Daegu, where your boss has already said you could be transferred. He visited it last week, and in every room, he could picture your future together so perfectly. The kitchen in which heâll make you a late breakfast on lazy Sunday mornings, the room with a beautiful view over a garden that you could turn into an office for your work-from-home days, the bedroom that he could all too well imagine a crib in. Layla could run around in the garden. You could visit your family and friends whenever you wanted. You could be in Seoul in less than two hours with the train if you ever missed it.
Youâve been talking about moving somewhere together for a while now, but heâs still nervous to bring it up. Itâs a huge step, and he can only hope you are as ready as he is to take itâand if you arenât yet, heâll gladly wait for you to be. But as he slips into bed with you, your warm body shifting into his embrace even in sleep, he doubts heâll have to wait long at all. The days of holding back are long goneâever since itâs fully gotten through to you that he wonât ever leave your side if he can help it, youâve opened up to him like never before, let him take care of you like heâs always dreamed of.
He looks down at you and your peaceful sleeping face, his initial dangling on a thin silver chain that youâve worn since you found it again while organizing your jewelry box a few weeks ago. This is enough for now. But one day, if youâll have him, heâll make you his with another piece of jewelry, and falling asleep with you in his arms wonât be a once-in-a-while occurrence anymore.
Itâs more than enough, he thinks as he presses a kiss to your forehead, and lets the soft sound of your breathing lull him into sleep. Itâs everything.
.
.
âMy wife.â
Jaeyunâs voice is a low, possessive grunt in your ear. He says those two words like they hold the most precious meaning in the world, and it makes fire rise deep inside you.
You thought the reason Jaeyun had been so antsy during your journey to Hawaii was because heâd never travelled this far. Youâd chalked up his need to have his hand in yours or resting on your thigh for the entirety of the flight to it being his first time on a long-distance plane. You easily dismissed his clinginess on the drive from the airport to your hotel as his being tired, which always made him a little needier.
But when he pressed his body to yours the moment the door of your hotel room shut behind you, you finally understood what had actually been on his mind this entire timeâthe feeling of his erection, hard and insistent on your lower stomach, left no room for interpretation.
To be fair, since getting married three days ago, in the familiarity of your backyard and surrounded by your loved ones, youâd barely gotten any alone time. Relatives of his that lived far away stayed at your house until yesterday night, and at bedtime every night, either one or both of you were too tired to initiate anything. You havenât had sex since becoming Jaeyunâs wife, and clearly, this has been weighing on your husband.
He kisses you like he has been starving for months, desperate, ravenous, crazed. His arms around you hold you in a tight embrace, your bags haphazardly discarded at your feet. Eventually, he reaches for the back of your thighs and, legs hooked around his waist, carries you to the bed youâll call yours for the next week. You hadnât expected to break it in so quickly, but you wouldnât have it any other way, not when Jaeyunâs tongue laps at your mouth like this, not when his teeth graze your bottom lip so deliciously.
âNeed to touch you so bad, my love. Can I?â he asks, voice breathy.
âYes, Yun, please.âÂ
He slips a hand below your waistband and hums in satisfaction at the wetness he finds there. âAlways so wet for me, arenât you, baby? Always ready for me to fuck you.â
The feeling of his expert fingers on your clit render you unable to reply to himâitâs not like heâs waiting for an answer, anyway. The way you throw your head back and moan his name is all the confirmation he could need.Â
Although youâd be content to go on like this, it seems as though this isnât enough for him. He quickly withdraws his fingers, swallowing your whine of protest with a kiss. Itâs unusual, the speed with which he makes his way down your body until his face is level with your core. He normally likes to take his sweet time with you, trailing kisses all over your skin before giving in to your pleas for more. You take a little pride in knowing that you donât have to begâfor once, heâs the desperate one, heâs the one who canât wait a second longer.
Itâs obscene, and obscenely hot, the way he presses his nose against the crotch of your sweatpants and inhales deeply, a guttural groan escaping his throat. He presses kisses to your inner thighs and core over your clothes before he actually slides them down your thighs, letting them pool at your knees like he doesnât have time to take them off completely. He doesnât bother with your t-shirt, either, simply snaking his hands underneath it until they reach your breasts.
âFuck, Iâve missed this pussy so much,â he mutters, admiring it like it belongs in a museum.Â
You smile. âItâs been, like, four days.â
He shakes his head. âNever going without it for that long again.â
Jaeyun dives into your core, tongue licking a long stripe up your folds before it finds your clit and settles there, alternating between licking and sucking at the sensitive bud, two of his slender fingers quickly sliding inside of you. Your hands find purchase in his hair, tugging at it when a motion of his tongue feels particularly good, hips bucking against his mouth whenever his fingers hit that particularly deep spot inside you. He moans ceaselessly into your core, the vibrations making your thighs shake around his head, as though he needed this as much as you didâif not more. You swear you hear him mutter âmy wifeâ at some point. Embarrassingly quickly, you start to feel that familiar coil of pleasure form low in your stomach, a warm, dizzying buzz spreading throughout your entire body all the way to your fingertips.
Your relief at not having to beg turns out to be short-lived. Jaeyun makes you come on his tongue a first, then a second time, as he is often wont to do. Youâre impossibly sensitive, body heavy and boneless by the third time, but he isnât satisfied. His grip on your hips is firm, and you donât have the energy to fight itânor the willingness, really. Tears stream down your face by the time your fourth orgasm hits you, at which point you canât even tell pleasure from pain anymore. You really do need a break, though, and signal this to your husband â your husband â by lifting his head from your core.
He gives you a few minutes of physical respite, but the words that he whispers against your skin as he presses feverish kisses to your throat and jaw keep you in that hazy, nebulous headspace, and in those few minutes only, you already find yourself reaching for him, cupping his erection over his sweatpants.
You wince when he enters you, overstimulation setting in solely from having him inside you, but you shake your head when he asks if you need a longer break. âWant you, Yun,â you breathe out, holding onto his biceps, nails already digging into his skin.
As he pistons his hips into yours relentlessly, you almost canât believe this is the same man who was standing before you at the altar mere days ago, the sweetest smile on his lips and tears in his pretty eyes. You guess heâs holding true to one of his vowsâhe said heâd never make you doubt how much he loves you, and right now, you canât deny that heâs fucking you like youâre the only woman for him.
You think he must be close when his thrusts speed up and his grunts get louder. And recently, thereâs been a new telltale sign that he was inching closer to his orgasm.
âGonna fill you up, angel. Gonna stuff you full of my cum and make you the prettiest mommy ever. All round and beautiful, and carrying my baby. Show the whole world who you belong to.â
He mutters these words right into your ear just as his breathing gets heavier, more ragged, and seconds later, you feel him spurting ropes of his sperm inside you. When he first started talking to you like this, you assumed it was just long-term relationship dirty talk. But a couple of weeks ago, when you told him you were almost at the end of your last tablet of birth control, he asked how you felt about not renewing your prescriptionâso not just dirty talk, you realized.
He pulls out of you but stays on top of you, catching his breath as he rests his head on your chest and you play with his hair. Eventually, he grabs your left hand, lifts it to his lips, and presses them to your ring finger, right over the silver band. âThank you for marrying me, angel,â he whispers. âYouâve made me the happiest man on Earth.â
You kiss the top of his head, basking in the pleasant warmth of his words, of his scent, of his reassuring weight as he lays on top of you. âIâm the lucky one.â
âWill you still feel lucky when I tell you weâre not leaving this room all day?â
When you lift your head to look at him, heâs wearing a devilish grin. âWhy not?â you ask.
âBecause,â he says, pressing his lips to yours, âIâm fucking the jetlag out of you.â Your body responds to him, heat already starting to swirl in your stomach as though you havenât already taken more than you could handleâyour desire for him is a bottomless well. âAnd, so that in fifteen years, we get to embarrass our kid by telling them they were conceived in Hawaii.â
Needless to say, over the next week, you spend a lot more time in your hotel room than youâd planned, often only going out around noon or coming back halfway through dinnerâwhenever Jaeyun sees that ring around your finger, he seems to need some alone time with you.
He doesn't think he'll ever stop needing alone time with you.
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Ok so i need to marry him and get fucked ljke thaf too thanks
LMAOO real !!! Manifesting this for both of us đ
of all the people in the world - sjy (m)
pairing. sim jaeyun x reader
synopsis. You know you should be ecstatic about the invitation to Chaewonâs and Jaeminâs wedding in your mailbox, but you canât help the nerves gnawing away at your stomach. There are too many things youâve left unresolved after moving to Seoulâyour aunt, your friends, and most of all Sim Jaeyun, the boy youâve never let yourself love.
genre. childhood/high school friends that grow apart to lovers, angsty fluff, small town au, mutual pining bc they're idiots, this is kind of like hometown but different i promise, SMUT MDNI !!!!
warnings. characters are aged up (late 20s), reader is a little clueless but she's doing her best okay, family issues and family member death, jake is exclusively referred to as jaeyun deal with it
word count. 35.3k
author's note. listen to the playlist here + as always a big thank you to @zreamy for beta reading this and freaking out over jaeyun!!! happy very very late birthday can't wait to name my firstborn child after you... Zreamy Lee what a beautiful name... im sure anton will be stoked when i let him know!
Most of the time When he looks at me I change my mind And I donât think he even cares a bit How much I have to give Just as long as Iâm awake To love him every day [...] Of all the people in the world [He] says my name the best Most of the Time, Jackie Evans
From his seat on the couch, Jaeyun stares at the golden inflated balloons spelling out âCongratulations, Y/N!â on the wall of your auntâs living room. The more he stares, the more the capital letters seem to be mocking him.Â
He allows himself one last moment of selfishness, during which he thinks the last thing he wants to do, today or ever, is to congratulate you on getting your one-way ticket out of this town. He downs his fruit punch and winces at the overly sweet, artificial taste, then marches towards the crowd around you, trying on different smiles that might seem convincing. None of them fit.
August is nearing its end already. Summer has always felt lazy, molasses-slow, pleasantly neverending to Jaeyunâthis year, it blinked by him. He closed his eyes as the schoolbell rang for their last ever period; he opens them again and he is here. Wasnât prom just yesterday? Graduation? Did he realize that the last bonfire party was just that, the last?Â
Your birthday isnât for another week, but youâre leaving tomorrow. Everyone huddles around you, eagerly awaiting your reaction as you open gifts. If it wasnât for the presents and the chocolate fudge cake waiting in the fridge, this wouldnât be a birthday party so much as a going-away party. The dreadful words on your wall make that clear: everyone here knows youâre much happier about leaving than about turning eighteen. You said so yourself a few days earlier, and Jaeyun tried his hardest not to burst into tears.
âI can celebrate my birthday every year. Iâll only get accepted into the program of my dreams once.âÂ
You were sitting, just the two of you, atop one of the hills that overlooked your town. Jaeyun knew that when you looked out, you already saw your past, while he could only see his whole life, past, present and future indistinguishable from each other, spreading out for miles and miles and miles.Â
Up until a few months ago, when Jaeyun looked at you, he could only see his whole life. But ever since you received your acceptance letter, he hasnât been so sure. He watched as you celebrated leaving him behind, stayed silent as you raved about your plans for the future. Plans he wasnât a part of. These past months have been the only time seeing you smile made him sad.
He stays at the back of the small crowd, close enough to make out your presents as you unwrap them but not quite joining in. Hands in his back pockets, he wears his best neutral expressionäžif he canât fake a smile, he can at least try and not look so depressed. As your friend, he owes you that much. He might hate every moment of this but heâd feel even worse, knowing he was raining on your parade.
You seem to like your gifts. After spending your teenage years together, your friends know what you like. Scented candles, cute notebooks that youâll probably keep preciously rather than actually use, a personalized calendar for the upcoming school year with a different picture of you and your loved ones every month. Jaeyun shows up a few times in group pictures; itâs just the two of you in April, which is too far away for his liking. Far away enough for you to have forgotten all about him.
As you flip through the calendar, despite your friendsâ protest for the pictures to be a surprise each month, itâs on April that you linger the most. Thereâs a small smile on your face, a sad smile. Your fingers play with the pendant on your necklace, Jaeyunâs gift that he gave you before everyone else even arrived. It was too intimate a gift for him to hand it to you in front of all your friends. He almost died of embarrassment when your eyebrows rose at the sight of the delicate, silver chain, of the letter âJâ hanging off it, and it was just the two of you; if anyone else had been in the room, his shyness wouldâve gotten the best of him, and the jewelry box wouldâve stayed safely tucked in his coat pocket.
You lift your gaze towards him. He didnât even know youâd noticed him joining everyone, and yet your eyes found him immediately. He has no idea what on Earth is going through your head. Are you finally realizing that the days of seeing each other every single day are over? Are you finally figuring him out, how it isnât only friendship that has kept him by your side all these years, but the feeling deep in his gut that he gets whenever he thinks of you?
Do you have that feeling, too?
Your eyes shine. For a second, Jaeyun thinks you might start to cry. Then someone, Miji or Yurim, who knows, says that sheâs on the next page. Your gaze falls back to the calendar in your hands. Your fingers let go of your necklace, and you flip Jaeyunâs page.
.
.
A tight ball of dread has been sitting in your stomach ever since you got that letter in the mail. Youâve tried to rationalize it many ways: it feels weird to receive a wedding invitation, the first from someone out of your childhood group of friends. Even more so when that someone is the girl you called your best friend for all of your teenage years, but you arenât sure you deserve that title anymore. Even more so when youâre 28 and couldnât be further from drafting a wedding invitation yourself.
You know what it really is: itâs the address for the reception, the name of a place in which you havenât set foot in years blinking innocently up at you. Itâs the second piece of paper inside the envelope, a handwritten note asking you to come a few days earlier so that all of you âcan gather just like the good old times.â
Iâm getting married, Y/N. Iâm turning into a proper adult. I just want one last time of feeling like a sixteen year old, and I canât have that without you here. Say youâll be there, pretty please? XX
You remember sighing after reading that note, your brain already coming up with excuses to justify your future absence, fully aware that you wouldnât miss this wedding for the world.Â
Damn Chaewon, you thought then, and still regularly think now. Damn her and her emotional manipulation, as youâve decided to view it, forcing you to make that dreaded trip homeânot that you really consider that place home anymore.
It was a wonder that you and Chaewon were such good friends back then, good enough to still keep in touch throughout your adult lives. Just like every baby in the family, she was born in the upstairs bedroom of their home, the mayorâs daughter, known and loved by everyone in town, and had always adored her small-town life. You showed up out of nowhere at age fourteen, initially making no effort to befriend anyone, annoyed by the whispers that followed you. You wanted to leave as soon as you arrived, and you eventually did; although along the way, Chaewonâs kind-heartedness melted even your ice walls, and you gradually opened the gates to let the other kids in.
For almost a decade, youâve been working to close those gates again. You were almost there; they were barely agape, there was just that tiny thread that kept an infinitesimal part of you tethered to that place, and you were sure it was close to snapping. Chaewon and her damn wedding invitation pushed the gates back open, and it took you all your strength to not look back and walk through again.
You left something there, and you arenât sure youâre ready to retrieve it.Â
The ball of dread, as though tethered to a chain around your ankle, wonât stop following you. Up until now, you hadnât noticed how much everything around you seemed to revolve around romance. The TV you watched. The content on your phone. Couples in the street. Even your work was full of it. Youâre the editor for the Culture and Media segment of Limelight Monthly, the magazine you work at, not Relationships or even Lifestyle, and yet, in the weeks after receiving the invitation, it felt like all your staff could write about were the latest romance novels everyone raved about online, the best reality TV shows about exes getting back together or forever-singles searching for their first love, and which destinations were the most romantic for couples to travel to this summer.Â
You do a good job hiding it at first. Although youâre not as focused as you usually are reading your staffâs articles to greenlight them for publication, two years of doing this job means no typos or clunky sentences pass you by. You make sure to greet everyone with your usual cheer, and you donât miss any Thursday evening afterwork drinks, a tradition of your teamâs. Most of the time, youâre able to relegate Chaewonâs wedding and everything it entails to the back of your mind, but itâll come back up at random moments. Youâll be filling the kettle for tea in the communal kitchen when a certain face will fill the forefront of your thoughts; your heart will start beating uncontrollably, and before you know it, water will be overflowing from the kettle and onto your hands. Youâll stare at the awfully familiar name of a book character in one of your coworkersâ reviews and only snap out of it once someoneâs called your name three times in a row, like being summoned out of a trance.Â
These moments are few and far between, but they add up. When your coworkers ask you whether everythingâs okay, at first, itâs lighthearted, like theyâre just curious about what got you so lost in your thoughts. Slowly, eyebrows start to furrow, concern starts creeping in their eyes and voice. Youâre one zone-out away from an intervention. A few days ago, you overheard Juhee and Haewon, your teamâs two most recent recruits, whispering in the break room about their concern for your well-being: âI think she goes home and just, I donât know, has takeaway and white wine in front of her TV.â
Theyâre wrong about the takeaway. Youâre actually a pretty decent cook. The rest of their sentiment, however⊠Well.
It takes Minjeong, your favorite coworker-turned-friend, a couple of weeks before she decides to take matters into her own hands. One Tuesday after work, she waits for you outside the buildingâs main entrance, and as soon as you step outside, grabs your wrist and drags you to the subway station thatâll lead both of you to her apartment. âIâm making you chicken alfredo and youâre telling me what the hell is wrong with you,â she says before you can protest.
You wrench your wrist out of her grasp, shrug on the bag strap that had fallen off your shoulder with a discontented huff, and follow her anyway. âFine, but Iâm only coming for the chicken alfredo.â
âIâll tie you down to the chair until you speak.â
âKinky.â
She halts dead in her tracks in the middle of the busy street, ignoring the nasty stares from the other homebound office workers heading for the station. She turns to face you, wearing a severe expression. âIâve known you for five years, and youâve never cried in front of me. Not even when we watched Titanic.â
Nonplussed, you reply, âI already knew how it ended.â
âThatâs not the point. Itâs usually impossible to get a read on you, so when not one or two, but three people come up to me and ask whether youâre alright, that means somethingâs seriously wrong. Iâd be a terrible friend if I didnât try to find out what that was.â
You hesitate. Youâre embarrassed that youâve been so obvious, and that youâre even this upset in the first place. Who on Earth has such a hard time being happy about her childhood best friendâs upcoming wedding? Your first reaction shouldâve been to call Chaewon and rave with her and ask for all the details. You should be sending her pictures of potential dresses and asking her which one fits her color palette the best. You shouldnât be needing the aforementioned intervention.
It isnât like you have to follow Minjeong and air your dirty laundry out to her. If it came to it, your couple inches over her might help you win a physical fight. But something about her sincere concern makes you foldâhow long has it been since you let someone worry about you like this? Long enough that you forgot how nice it feels, apparently.
She must sense a shift in your demeanor, because she relaxes. âLetâs go,â she says, and this time, she doesnât need to drag you with her.
From the moment you met Minjeong, you knew she came from money. It wasnât that she flaunted it or appeared out-of-touch with reality; she just had a way of moving through the world with the air of confidence of someone who knew they belonged, who was used to getting what they wanted. It also helped that she often came to work with a new designer bag and always had flawless hair and nails.
It intimidated you at first, the way she seemed to have worked in this office her whole life, whereas it took you weeks before you stopped being so eager to please and be overly polite with everyone. But it quickly became clear that although you found her infinitely cool, she wasnât cold. You didnât work for the same segment, but you spent your lunch breaks together, getting scolded by your respective bosses more than once for coming back half-an-hour late; you would often be so busy talking, you wouldnât keep track of the time.
But it wasnât until you stepped inside her apartment for the first time that you realized just how wealthy she, or her family, was. She lived in one of the fanciest neighborhoods of town, in an apartment that you could hardly afford now as an editor, let alone when you were just starting out at the magazineâyet sheâd been living there since graduating from university. Itâs on the top floor of a brand new apartment complex and composed of three bedrooms and two bathrooms, a ridiculously large open plan kitchen and living room, and a balcony with possibly the best view over the city youâve ever seen. Her furniture looked and felt expensive, and it made you dizzy trying to figure out how much the artwork that hung on her walls and decorated her shelves mustâve cost. To this day, you havenât been brave enough to ask.
When you step inside her apartment today, she wastes no time before ordering you to sit at the kitchen island. You watch as she grabs a bottle of wine from the fridge, hesitates, then puts it back. Instead, she grabs a bottle of gin and an unopened one of tonic from a cupboard, two glasses and some ice from the freezer. You smile and sit silently as she expertly pours two drinks. âHere,â she says, sliding a glass towards yours. âI thought you might want something stronger.â
âShould I be worried you just have this on hand?â you tease.
She rolls her eyes. âItâs for emergencies like these, obviously.â You clink your glasses and take a wonderful sip. Then, she looks you straight in the eyes and says, âSo, tell me whatâs been on your mind.â
So you do.
You tell her about the wedding invitation and what it entails: travelling back to the town you used to live in, having to face everyone you left behind there. You keep things vague. You donât name names, or dump your entire backstory on her; you simply tell her you didnât have the best relationship with your aunt when you left, and phone calls between the two of you have been few and far between in the time youâve moved away. And that this goes for a few other people from home, namely one other person.
Of course, this isnât enough for Minjeong. She prods, and prods, and prods, until you finally give in. With a sigh and a heavy gulp of your wine, you ask, âWhere do you even want me to start?â
She smiles. âFrom the beginning.â
You stare each other off for a few beats. Even as your instincts tell you to keep your mouth shut, a small voice at the back of your mind says, For once, why not?
âI donât⊠talk about this,â you say, voice shaky.
Worry knots Minjeongâs eyebrows together. âIs it that bad?â
âItâs not that itâs bad,â you reply quickly to reassure her. âI just donât like even thinking about it. So talking about it⊠Well, that forces me to think about it, doesnât it?â
âListen,â Minjeong says, walking over to your side of the island, resting her hand over yours. âIf you really donât want to talk about it, I wonât force you. But from what I can tell, itâd do you some good.â She takes a deep breath, then speaks all in one go. âAlso Iâm dying to know. Iâm not supposed to tell you this but everyone at the office has a theory about where you come from because you never talk about it.â
When you gasp, she shakes her head and squeezes your hand. âI promise everything said here will stay here. Iâd derive much more satisfaction from being the only one knowing about your past than blabbing about it to everyone anyway.â
For some reason, this works on you. Maybe Minjeong feels trustworthy enough. Or maybe you know sheâs right, you know itâll do you good to speak about it, to release some of the burden.
âOkay.â
You really do start from the beginning, and work your way up from there. Why you had to move to Gimcheon without your parents. Why it was difficult living with your aunt, and why you could hardly make friends at first. Why it was your sole goal in life to move back to Seoul at eighteen, and why with every passing year, the thought of leaving became harder and harder. Why you did it anyway.Â
What it cost you.
It feels strange to speak so much at once, and about yourself. Minjeong is plating dinner as youâre wrapping your story up. She has so many questions, it takes you almost an hour to finish your food. But you find yourself readily answering every one of them; youâve gone this far already, so you might as well give her the fullest picture you can.
Oddly enough, itâs perhaps her easiest question that has you hesitating the most. Itâs the end of the night, and youâre surprised your eyes have stayed dry throughout it; but when she asks you this, your nose starts to prickle.
âWhatâs this guyâs name, anyway? Weâve talked so much about him, and youâve only referred to him as your friend.â
You canât help but smile even as the word tugs sharply on your heartstrings.Â
âJaeyun.â
.
.
As the date of the wedding approaches, the tight knot of nerves in your stomach grows bigger. The evening before your flight, it takes you hours to fall asleep, your packed suitcase next to your bed startling you every time you lay eyes on it. You sleep fitfully for three hours, then a never-ending loop of worst-case scenarios plays in your head as you go through the motions of getting yourself ready and to the airport. An older woman sits next to you on the plane; anxiety must be emanating from you like a bad odor for her to rest a kind hand on your shoulder and tell you that domestic flights like these are very safe, that sheâs flown many times and that nothing badâs ever happened. You donât have it in you to tell her, a total albeit nice stranger, that itâs not the journey thatâs worrying you so much, but the destination.
Stepping inside the airport at Daegu feels surreal. The few times youâve traveled between Seoul and Gimcheon, you droveâbut Chaewon forced you to fly down, saying you couldnât just get in your car and leave if you suddenly felt like it. You didnât tell her you could almost just as easily get a same-day flight, if it really came down to it.
You hope it wonât.
The airport is so relatively unbusy, so it doesnât take you too long before you arrive at the parking lot, eyes searching for your aunt and her green little car that sheâs always driven and that has somehow yet to break down.Â
But itâs another familiar face that your eyes land on.Â
The sight feels like a punch to the gut. For a few seconds, you swear you stop breathing, the sound of your heartbeat so loud in your ears that it cuts off all other noise around you, of planes taking off, people reuniting, car doors slamming shut.
You werenât supposed to see him so soon. You were supposed to meet your aunt, go through a slightly awkward car ride, maybe have your first adult conversation with her now that you werenât, or at least less of, an angsty teen. You were then supposed to get ready, both mentally and physically, for seeing all of your friends at once again, for seeing him. Who was standing in front of his car, staring at you with a small smile that kept breaking your heart over and over again, clearly here to pick you up.
He lets you stare back. Lets you stand there, mouth agape in shock, fingers wrapped so tight around the handle of your suitcase that your nails dig into the skin of your palm. You werenât supposed to see him so soon. You didnât get enough time to prepare, to adjust to being here, and now youâre standing there dumbly like youâve just seen a ghost.
In a way, you have.
You regain part of your senses. When you try to say his name, your voice is hoarse, and it comes out as a whisper, barely audible even to you. So you clear your throat, try a second time.
âJaeyun.â
The name feels clumsy on your tongue, like a foreign language you once knew but lost due to lack of practice. And yet, when he smiles and says your name back to you, it sounds so right, like no one else is as deserving of saying it as he is.
âHi, Y/N.â
Your feet move of their own accord as they step towards him; he mirrors you, and in mere seconds youâre face-to-face with him, and when he reaches out you think he might hug you but all he does is take your suitcase from you and roll it to the trunk of his car. A sigh escapes your lips, but youâre unsure whether it's one of disappointment or of relief.
âThere was an emergency at the hospital, so Auntie asked me to pick you up. I hope itâs okay with you,â he explains. You watch, transfixed, as he closes the trunk, then walks over to the passenger side, opening the door and motioning for you to go in.
You nod. âYeah, itâs okay. Thank you.â
Instead of walking right away to his side of the car, he stays there, one hand on top of the door as you take a seat and fasten your seatbelt. âItâs no worries,â he says finally before gently shutting your door.
There are so many things to think about. Usually, youâd get hung up over the fact that even on the day of your coming back home for the first time in years, your aunt still prioritizes her job over you, or over the fact that Jaeyun still calls her Auntie, despite the resolve youâve had since you were fourteen of calling her by her first name, and her first name only.
Now, as the boy â the man â beside you starts the car, hands steady compared to your trembling ones, a peaceful expression on his face, all you can think about is the improbability of it all, of being back here, of being next to Jaeyun of all people and not knowing what to say to him. If someone had told you ten years ago, that one day a reunion with Jaeyun would mean silence and cramp-inducing nerves, you would have either laughed them off, or been scared into never leaving at all.Â
Your mind conjures an infinite list of conversation starters, but none of them seem good enough. Theyâre all too relaxed, too intense, too inappropriate for a situation like this. Like a fish out of water, you keep opening your mouth to say something, only to close it when you decide not to.Â
Jaeyun being this quiet only makes things worse. If thereâs one thing about him, itâs that heâs always talking like he canât get the words out fast enoughâbut maybe itâs been too long for you to speak with any authority about what Sim Jaeyun is like. You know youâve changed a lot in ten yearsâhow can you expect him to be the same boy you left? You canât even tell whether heâs just calmer now or if heâs decided to torture you by silence.Â
As he keeps his eyes on the road ahead of him, you risk furtive glances, trying to assess how much about him mightâve changed. Thereâs still something of the boy who used to split clementines with you in the winter, who would whisper the answers to you when you got called on in class and blanked. Heâs grown into his features, heâs learned how to style his hair, but his kind smile and eyes havenât changed in the slightest. You still find yourself inexplicably drawn to everything about him, even the small cut on his jawline, probably from shavingâyour fingers crave to feel it, this sign of a private life that you havenât been privy to for years. That you havenât been a part of.
Minutes pass by like eternity. Heâs only pulling out of the parking lot and joining the freeway and youâre already wondering how youâll survive the twenty-minute car ride to your auntâs. Thankfully, Jaeyun eventually puts an end to your agony.Â
âThereâs so much I want to tell you that I donât know where to start.â His voice is low, infused with a kind of timidity youâve rarely heard from him. It seems to reflect your feelings exactly, and youâre so relieved you could cry.Â
A small chuckle escapes your throat. âMe too,â you say, glancing at him briefly, avoiding his gaze by the fraction of a second. Itâs hard enough being in an enclosed space with him; eye contact isnât an option right now. Every time his eyes flick over to you, the side of your face heats up so much you think it might melt right off.
âHowâhow are you?â he asks.
Youâre not sure whether he means right now, or in generalâbut you donât really feel like examining your feelings about being back here more than you already have, and especially not in front of Jaeyun, so you go for the second meaning.
âGood,â you say. âEverythingâs going well at work. And Iâve got a few really great friends. What about you?â
A few beats pass without his answerâin the corner of your eye, you see his head swivel back-and-forth between the road and your face. âWhat, thatâs it?â he finally says with a small, disbelieving chuckle. âThe last time I saw you was three years ago. Surely you have more to say than that.â He doesnât sound angry, just genuinely eager to get more information out of you. But his words make you angry at yourself, because they remind you that itâs your fault you know so little about each otherâs lives now. Itâs not for his lack of trying, and you both know thatâsince you left ten years ago, his unwavering kindness and lack of resentment towards you has surprised you every time youâve seen him again.Â
âI donât know, nothingâs really happened. I was promoted pretty recentlyââ
âOkay, thatâs definitely not nothing. Congratulations, Y/N. You deserve it.â
Theyâre words youâve heard a hundred times before, but coming from him, they sound so heartfelt, like he truly is proud and happy for you, that you canât help but soften at them. Smiling, you say, âYouâve never seen me at work. Maybe I slack off all day and hand in everything late.â
âIâve seen you in high school, and thatâs enough to know youâd rather pull out your hair strand by strand than hand in anything a minute late.â
You laugh, and when he turns his head to look at you, this time, you mirror him. He can only keep his eyes off the road for so long, but a second is all you need. Your gazes meet, and heâs wearing one of your favorite smiles of his, the one that makes you feel like heâs really glad to see you again, and a weight is suddenly taken off your shoulders.
Maybe this wonât be so bad after all.
Thankfully, the remainder of the car ride is much less awkward than its first few minutes.You find Jaeyun to be as talkative as ever, not shy in the slightest to tell you about everything going on in his life, from the arguments he gets into with his colleagues â which happen to mostly be members of his family â to the hikes heâs been going on more frequently now that heâs adopted a dog, a Border Collie he says you have to meet.Â
Your nerves are appeased. The last time you saw Jaeyun three years ago, it was for his grandmotherâs funeral. She was the main reason heâd stayed hereâback in high school, heâd had vague plans of moving to Seoul after graduating from university in Daegu. But when she got sick, with his brother abroad and his parents working hard to afford the hospital bills, he decided there should be someone to keep her company and take care of her, and that someone would be him. You could count on one hand the number of times youâd been back, and when she passed was one of them. He tried to keep a brave front, smiling as he greeted and thanked everyone for coming, but you could see right through the facade, although itâd been a long time since you could call yourself a close friend of his.
You only stayed three days. The night before you went back to Seoul, you went over to his apartment to make him dinner. In front of you, he let it all outâheâd always cried easily, but never like this. You spent so much time comforting him and offering him your shoulder that in the end, you could only make him a bowl of pasta with tomato sauce that he barely ate half of. You knew only too well what sort of pain he was going through. While your brain has wiped most of your memories of the events soon following your parentsâ deaths, you remember the hurt that lasted months, years, that still comes back now from time to time, when you least expect it. It was partly thanks to Jaeyunâs friendship that your grief was easier to overcomeâas you got to know him and your new classmates, he took your mind off of things little by little, until one afternoon, you came home from school and realized you hadnât felt suddenly sad or irrationally angry the entire day.
The moment you left him that night, his cheeks tear-stained and his eyebrows furrowed even in sleep, you made a promise to yourself that youâd be there for him at twenty-five as he was for you at fourteen, despite the distance that separated you. You texted him everyday, called three times in a row if he didnât answer, made sure your mutual friends checked up on him often.Â
But Jaeyun was, is strong and he had amazing people surrounding him, people heâs known his entire life and that have his back. He was back on his feet soon, sooner than you expected, for how close he was to his grandmother. Because of, or thanks to that, when you felt like he didnât need you to look after him anymore, you only felt a little guilty for pulling away. More accurately, the guilt ate relentlessly at you, but you had excuses to make yourself feel better. His dad made all his favorite dishes. Jaemin took him out fishing. A neighbor of his had a dog who gave birth, and he adopted one of the pups. With or without you, he was going to be fine.
You didnât mind looking after him. But as soon as you felt like you were relying on him, you panicked. And you were starting to look forward to your weekly calls far too much for your liking. So you reached out less often. It was a busy time at work â when wasnât it, after all? â and you buried yourself in it so that when you told him you were too busy to call or to head back for the weekend, you werenât lying.
Things went back to the way they were for the seven previous years. You were as relieved as you were heartbroken.
You look at him now, listening to his lively rants with a smile on your face, thinking how glad you are it all turned out okay. The sadness of being apart from him, the longing of missing him, youâd do it all again if it meant heâd be laughing like this in the end.
Parked in front of your auntâs house, Jaeyun turns off the ignition and turns to you. âDo you want me to come in with you?â he asks.
How easily you fall back into your old ways. Twenty minutes with him and you feel like a teenager again, annoyed with him for being so nice, so unrelentingly nice, annoyed at your stupid heart for beating up a storm in your chest every time he so much as smiles at you. You want desperately to say yes. To have someone to lean on as you walk into the house that contains so many bad memoriesâfights with your aunt followed by silence, the feeling of loneliness that pervaded your teenage years and that you havenât quite managed to shake off. Itâd be so nice to have Jaeyun there with youâand judging from the concern on his face, he seems to know how you feel.
But you canât let him, because you canât let yourself need him. Not again. Not when you already know how it ends.
You smile and shake your head, ignoring the disappointment that flashes across his features. âItâs okay. I donât wanna take up more of your time.â He looks like heâs going to say something, so you quickly add, already opening the passenger door, âIâll see you later for the reunion, yeah? Thank you for the ride, Yun.â
With a sigh, he lets go of whatever it was he wanted to say. âOf course. Anytime.â
He gets out of the car even though you tell him not to, and helps you with your suitcase, which really isnât that heavy. You can tell that your declining his offer has dampened his enthusiasm somewhat, and yet, he waits until youâre at the front door, one hand on the handle, the other waving him goodbye, to drive away. As though he wanted to keep an eye on you for as long as he couldâand so do you. You watch his car get smaller until it disappears around a corner. Then, inhaling and exhaling deeply, you turn the key you havenât used in years inside the keyhole and push the door open.
The first thing you notice is the unchanging smell of the house. Like the cleaning product your aunt uses, and a slight stale odor of food, because she always forgets to crack open a window or turn on the oven fan when she cooks. Plus a scent specific to the house that reminds you of your aunt, of the clothes she wears, of the blanket she covers herself with while she watches reality TV after particularly long shifts.
Gently closing the door behind you, you stand in the entrance for a while, letting yourself take the time you need to get used to this place again. Youâre glad your aunt isnât home to usher you in and pretend sheâs happier to see you than she is, or that you didnât let Jaeyun accompany you. You donât want anyone, least of all him, to witness you looking around the house like itâs the first time you step foot in it.
Everything is the same as ever. Same furniture, same photos in the frames, same wallpaper, which make the few novelties even more striking. A plant in the corner of the living room, a new, more modern kettle in the kitchen. The black-and-white, low quality scan of your first ever article printed in Limelight is still displayed on the fridge, held up by the Brisbane magnet seventeen-year-old Jaeyun gifted you after he came back from visiting his family there.Â
You make your way upstairs slowly, holding onto the wooden rail for support, more emotional than physical. Your bedroom is a time capsule of your time in Gimcheon, with the same plain purple bedsheets your aunt bought before you arrived, the same posters of the boybands fifteen-year-old you obsessed over on your walls, the same fantasy series you used to devour during summer break on your shelves. You canât help but crack a smile at the sight of it all. In all the times youâve come back to this house, youâve never had it in you to change anything about this room. You want to keep it preciously, as if changing anything about it would change the memories associated with it, both good and bad.
Losing both of your parents at once had made you anything but an insouciant teenager. You were overly serious and reserved, grief forcing you to grow up far before any kid should have to. And yet, standing in this room, you remember the fleeting moments during which your biggest worries were a pimple on your chin or a test in a subject you didnât like.Â
For all your grievances against your aunt, you wouldâve turned into a much different person if she hadnât taken you in back then. Your dadâs family lived in another country, and you knew from conversations with your aunt that she and your mother didnât have the best relationship with their parents. Their brother had three kids of his own, whereas your aunt had none; it only made sense for her to welcome you into her house. When you were mad at her, you told yourself it was only her moral and legal obligation to take care of you as your closest relative, but when you were feeling more generous â which, for fifteen-year-old you, could be rare â you realized that having a comfortable room to yourself and cupboards always stocked with your favorite snacks was something to be grateful for.Â
And there were the friends you made here, whose pictures fill five entire photo albums. They made everything more tolerable, and even fun, when you allowed it to be. Of course, you would have never told them that, back thenâyou liked your cold exterior and the way they saw right through it.Â
Setting down your suitcase by your bed, you decide to go through the photo albums you assiduously filled back in high school instead of putting your things away. Itâs a better way to settle in and get yourself readyâyour nerves dissipate as you flip the pages, bright pictures blink up at you, of your friends at each othersâ houses, at the park on weekends, at the corner store after school. Youâre not in many of the pictures, usually hidden behind the camera, exaggeratedly frowning when Jaeyun managed to pry it from your hands and forced you in the frame.
He never heeded your protests when he wanted to swap places so you could be in the pictures you so often took. You remember the puppy eyes heâd make at you, which had no business being so effective, and the way heâd rest his larger hands on yours on the camera. Too unaccustomed to the feeling of your heartbeat speeding up, you would quickly hand it over to him then, turning away from him so he wouldnât see the obvious effect his touch had on you. It didnât help that heâd always show you the photo afterwards, pointing at you on the small screen, grinning as he said, âSee? You look pretty,â even though fear of being unphotogenic wasnât the reason you didnât like your picture to be taken.
Soon, your anxiety at seeing your friends and ex-classmates, after so long of making yourself unavailable to them, is almost entirely gone, replaced by excitement. There remains a pang of shame, especially at the thought of seeing Chaewon. How long had it been since youâd called her when you received that wedding invitation? Like Jaeyun, you know she wonât even be really mad, and that makes it worseâshe might make a light-hearted quip about it, but itâs as though theyâre scared that lecturing you about being MIA might only push you away further.
You tell yourself thereâs nothing to be scared about. The people youâll see tonight are but older versions of the people smiling at the camera, at you, in your photo albums.Â
You flip to a picture of you and Jaeyun taken without your knowledge, by Yunjin, if you remember correctly. Both of you sport wide smiles, the neon lights of the arcade game you were playing reflecting on your faces. It was his phoneâs home screen for ages.
Youâre so immersed in this trip down memory lane that you lose track of timeâwhen the front door opens and your aunt calls out your name, two hours have passed already. Pushing your awkwardness to the side, you let her hug you and repeat her words back to her when she tells you she missed you. You did miss her, but you only realize it once the familiar scent of her hair. Sheâs a creature of habitâshe still uses the shampoo she used when you first moved here at fourteen.Â
She was only twenty-six back then, younger than you are now. You donât know if you could deal with a temperamental, grieving teenager while youâd just lost your sister yourself.Â
âHow was the trip down? Iâm sorry I couldnât come and get you at the airport. I sent Jake instead, I figured you wouldnât mind if it was him,â she rattles, already filling the kettle for tea. This is so like her, saying a million things at once, always busying herself with something. You know that in an hour, when you leave for Chaewonâs house, sheâll settle herself on the couch and wonât leave it for the remainder of the evening, drained from her shift at the hospital.Â
âIt was fine, I didnât have any problems with my flight,â you reply, taking the knife from her hands and taking over the apple-cutting. âThere was an emergency at work?â
She sighs. âYeah, you know how weâre so understaffed in the summer. Some teenagers were messing around in a house under construction, and fell through a floor that wasnât done. No big injuries, but they needed an extra person to deal with parents and paperwork. At least I got to see these little shits get the talking-to of their life,â she says, making you laugh. She reaches for something in the cupboard, pulls out a packet of your favorite chocolate-flavored snacks from back then. âI got you these, if you want.â
âWow, I havenât eaten these in ages,â you say, chuckling at the familiar cartoon turtle on the bag.
âDo you not like them anymore?â
âNo, no, I do,â you say quickly to make your auntâs worried expression go away. âI just canât eat a bag in one sitting like I used to anymore, and they go stale too soon.â
She chuckles. âThatâs being an adult for you. I got a stomachache from a can of Coke the other day. Just one.â
You have time to spare before you need to start getting ready for Chaewonâs, so you sit at the dinner table together and catch up. The conversation floats somewhat on the surface of things, more about what youâve been doing than how youâve been doing. Youâre overly polite, keeping a distance for her sake more than your own, unsure how happy she really is to have you hereâand you have the feeling she thinks the same of you. The memory of your last fight hangs heavy in the air between you two, unspoken but tangible.
Itâs been easier talking to her since you moved away than it ever was when you lived here. You guess distance really does make the heart grow fonder, more willing to forgive and make amendsâthat, and growing up. Even after your fight, which you quickly understood had only happened because you let your emotions get the best of you after seeing Jaeyun in such a dishevelled state from losing his grandmother, you can have a normal conversation like this. Itâs a far cry from the silence that could stretch on for days when you were in high school.
Like with most dreaded things, you belatedly realize how much time you wasted stressing out about coming home, when there was nothing to worry about. Your mind had made up all sorts of scenarios, like your aunt would start yelling at you the moment you came through the door, rehashing your argument, or would barely give you the time of day during your entire stay. Itâs as though you forgot she was always the one who knocked on your door with a slice of takeaway pizza or a piece of buttered toast when you were being moody and wouldnât come down to eat. Who took you out for ice cream when she felt bad for being so caught up in work youâd hardly seen her all week. Who recorded your Saturday evening dramas on the TV while you were over at a friendâs house.
Youâve still got some talking to do, but it might not be as hard as you thought it would.
Fresh out of the shower, youâre changing into a nicer outfit and putting on light makeup when a text from Jaeyun lights up your phone. Heâs asking if you want a ride from him, which you declineâyour auntâs house is out of his way and itâs only a ten-minute bike ride for you, which you find yourself quite excited to go on, for purely nostalgic reasons.
Ok :) Iâll see you later, he texts back, and your stomach twists with both apprehension and giddiness. Having him there will make things so much easier, and yet the thought of spending prolonged time in his vicinity makes you unreasonably nervous.
Itâs just Jaeyun, you tell yourself, the guy who drooled on his textbook when he fell asleep in class. Who never got mad unless, in true soccer player fashion, felt another player had committed an unforgivable offense against him. Who insisted on watching horror movies then spent them with his face behind his hands.
You catch yourself smiling in the mirror and shake your head.
It really does feel like youâve been transported back to ten years ago as you wish your aunt a good evening and hop onto your bike, still in its same spot, resting against the side of the house, then ride down the streets youâll always know by heart. Gimcheon is at its prettiest during this time of year, the trees plump, their leaves dark green, the flowers bright. The summer evening breeze is warm on your skin, and the sun, low in the sky, casts a beautiful golden light on everything around you.
Itâs not long before you reach Chaewonâs houseâitâs still amazing to you how you can stand in front of it and say, yes, my friend owns this house. It actually belongs to herâand her fiancĂ©, Jaemin, of course. You donât know of a single person your age in Seoul who owns their apartment, except for Minjeong, but sheâs just exceptionally well-off. Itâs a nice, traditional house, with a wooden porch around the front where you know Chaewon, a Korean Nara Smith if youâve ever met one, will make gochujang and soy sauce from scratch once sheâs less busy with work and wedding preparations.Â
The gate is ajar, so you slide it further and let yourself in, calling out your friendâs name tentatively. Immediately you hear footsteps from inside the house, Chaewon squealing your name before she comes barrelling through the door and running towards you. She practically flings herself at you, and you stumble back a few steps as you catch her, laughing at her enthusiasm.
âUgh, Iâm so happy youâre finally here!â she exclaims, squashing the side of her face onto yours.
âIâm happy to be here, too,â you reply, chuckling. âThank you for the heartfelt welcome.â
Hands on your shoulders, she leans back, assesses you head-to-toe. You follow her gaze, wondering if the mid-thigh sundress you chose was a good decision. Is it too much cleavage? At your all-female workplace, there is no such thing as too much cleavage. âYou look good.â
âOkay, no need to sound so surprised.â
âIâm not!â she says, laughing. âOkay, a little bit, Iâm sorry. I thought youâd look all dishevelled like those busy city girls in the movies. Running around, getting coffee, whatever it is city people do. Thatâs what you look like when you FaceTime me after work.â
You sigh. âThatâs great to hear, Chae, thanks.â
âNo, donât take it the wrong way, itâs hot! But itâs nice to see you like this, with your hair down instead of your buns so tight they snatch your eyebrows.â
You frown. âI like my tight buns.â
âSo do I,â she says, tapping your butt with a cheeky smile. Before you can protest, she takes your hand and leads you into the house. âCome on, weâve made some changes inside, let me show you.â
âAm I the first person here?â you ask. The house is empty save for you and her, and probably Jaemin, somewhere.
She smiles at you mischievously. âOf course. Weâre going to catch up first. And who the hell starts a party at 6 p.m. anyway?â
Chaewonâs presence is everywhere around her house, from the white gauze curtains that flutter in the wind to the trinkets that line the shelves of a cupboard passed down onto her from her grandparents. There are new pieces of furniture here and there, and a nice patterned rug in the living room, but the biggest change has been done to the kitchen. Itâs been fully renovated to be more modern since you were last here, and itâs fully functional now, with everything she needs to make her homemade bread and her thousand side dishes that accompany every one of her meals. Itâs a good thing Jaeminâs a nice personâyou staunchly believe that not many people are deserving of the kind of care Chaewon is able to provide. You remember making that very clear when you came to visit for the holidays, and got a little too drunk with Chaewon for New Yearâs Eveâyou canât recall exactly what you said to him, but he could hardly look you in the eye for the remainder of your stay, so it mustâve left an impression.
Thereâs barely an inch of free space on the counter, and the fridge isnât faring much better. All sorts of salads and dips, meat and vegetable skewers, marinating chicken thighs, and of course, cupcakes. Tons of cupcakes. She doesnât let you lingerâJaemin walks into the kitchen, and youâve barely hugged him hello and exchanged niceties with him that sheâs already dragging you someplace else, telling rather than asking her fiancĂ© to finish getting the food ready.
She sits you down on a chair outside then heads back in, telling you sheâll be right back. It gives you some time to admire her backyard, the way itâs all been set up for tonight, cute cushions on the patio sofas, fairy lights strung in the trees, ribbons on the fence around her vegetable patch. Even back in high school, she grew green onions and avocados on the window sill of her parentsâ kitchen. Youâre excessively moved knowing that she has a whole garden to tend to now. Itâs so easy to picture her, wearing a sunhat as she waters and adds soil to her plants.Â
When she comes back out, itâs with two glasses of suspiciously pink liquid in her hands. She sees your weary expression and says, âDonât worry, you can barely taste the alcohol in it.â
âThatâs exactly what Iâm worried about,â you reply, but take a sip anyway. God knows youâre going to need some liquid courage to face tonight. Itâs overly sweet, tasting mostly of strawberry syrup, and almost not at all of the vodka and prosecco Chaewon says she put in. Fine with you.
She launches straight away into her usual interrogation. Itâs less daunting, because you can expect itâevery reunion with Chaewon means sheâs going to have a thousand questions for you if you donât turn the subject around on her at some point. She wants to know all of the office gossip as though she has personal stakes in who your coworkers are dating and what the workplace dynamics are like. She asks about your daily life, your friends, whether youâre seeing anyone.
âIâd have told you if I had a boyfriend, Chae,â you say.
She shrugs, a little sheepish. âI donât know. Thereâs lots of things you donât tell me about, you knowâŠâ
There it is, the sharp pang of guilt in your stomach. The summer breeze suddenly feels cold on your bare skin, the stillness of the countryside oppressive. Up until now, it felt like barely a few weeks had passed since youâd last seen Chaewon, but reality catches up to you now, with its distance and silences, the ones you imposed between the two of you. âIâm sorry,â you say quietly.
âNo, Iâm not mad!â she exclaims, panicked. âIâm just saying, I donât know so much about your life anymore, so this could be something I donât know about either⊠Iâm making this worse, arenât I?â she asks when she sees the pained look on your face.
You shake your head. âYouâre right, though. I know I should call more often, I justâŠâ
âWant to put this all behind you, I get it. You always talked about wanting to go back to Seoul in high school, so Iâm happy youâre able to thrive there now,â she says, although thereâs an edge to her voice that you know means sheâs more hurt than she wants to let on.
âBut it isnât fair to you.â
She shrugs again. When she looks at you, thereâs a small smile on her face that looks a little too forced. For as long as youâve known her, Chaewon has been wholly averse to conflictâthis is probably the hardest sheâll scold you for being so absent. But because itâs from her, itâs an effective reminder to be a better friend.
You canât help but put everything and everyone here in the same corner of your mind. You thought that to move on from one person, youâd need to move on from everyone, even Chaewon. You can only hope itâs not too late to start realizing how much of a fool youâve been.
âLook, I didnât get you all the way here to talk about this. I just wanna know how youâve been.â
âIâve been good, Chae, really. And now itâs your turn to present your life to me in excruciating detail.â
She chuckles and says, âFine, but weâll need a refill for this.â
âWhat? Has it been bad?âÂ
In the doorway, she turns around to look at you. âOh, not for me. My lifeâs been so awesome that youâll need to drink your jealousy away, babe.â
And indeed, when she comes back and tells all about her life recently with a dreamy look in her eyes, it isnât that youâre jealous per se, but that you realize this is the life a lot of people wish forâmarried with a nice house before thirty, and children soon, if you know her at all. And you agree these things sound nice, but theyâre not what you want for yourself right now. Sure, there have been hurdles: her parents-in-law are pretty conservative, but Jaemin always stands up for her, and her job as an elementary school teacher can be very tiring, but, she says, âhaving someone like him to come home to makes everything so much easier.â Sheâs always had a sentimental streak to her, but this close to the wedding, you can tell her love for Jaemin has never been so strong. Youâre reassured to see it doesnât stop her from ordering him around as usual, or scolding him when he puts the chocolate sprinkles on top of the blue frosted cupcakes even though she told him at least a million times that the star-shaped sprinkles went on those.Â
âBut the star-shaped ones taste like nothing, honey,â he says. You shake your head even if he canât see you. Chaewon gasps like he just told her to go fuck herselfâand in her eyes, itâs probably as though he has.
As much as she hates arguments, this is something sheâd lay her life down for. She heads into the kitchen to give him a piece of her mind, leaving you to reflect over her words. It makes everything so much easier. You do wonder what that must feel like, to have someone to come home to after a long day instead of a silent glass of wine. At least the wine canât judge you.
The two glasses of Chaewonâs pink mixture must really be getting to your head, because when she sits back down next to you, face flushed from a heated conversation about sprinkles, you find yourself telling her whatâs on your mind. âIâve almost had that a couple times, you know. Someone to come home to,â you say, feeling her gaze on the side of your face as you keep yours on the garden in front of you. âI did tell you about some of the guys I dated.â
âYeah, and you always seemed super unfazed about the break-ups.â
âI was. I always expected it to end one day or another, so I wasnât so surprised when that day came.â Her hand on your forearm is warm, anchoring, silently telling you that itâs okay to go on. âItâs not that I donât want that life. But whenever they started talking about meeting their parents, or moving in together, let alone get married⊠It just freaked me out. The idea of someone being so close to me, eventually knowing so much about me. Howââ You interrupt yourself, taken aback by the tears you feel pooling in your eyes. You turn to look at Chaewon, and something in her expression, in the familiarity of her features, makes you take a deep breath and keep talking. This is Chaewon. She wonât make fun of you for crying. âHow do you do it, Chae? How do you trust someone to still love you when they know about all the worst sides of you?â
âOh, honey,â she whispers, standing up to wrap her arms around you. A few silent tears stream down your cheeks, hopefully not staining her dress, as you hug her back tightly. âWhat about me? Minji, Yunjin? What about Jaeyun?â
Her voice seems to soften on his name, or maybe itâs your heart that softens upon hearing it. A part of you thinks he may be at fault for your unsatisfactory love lifeâknowing heâs out there makes it harder to fall for someone else. But thatâs something you couldnât admit to Chaewonâyou can barely admit it to yourself as it is.
âIâm sorry,â you say, sniffling against her shoulder. âI shouldnât be doing this today, of all days.â
She shushes you. âNo, no, itâs okay. Iâm glad youâre letting it out. Listen.â She crouches in front of you, brushes away strands of your hair that got stuck in your wet eyelashes. âThereâs nothing monstrous about you that would drive anyone away. Youâre more cautious than most of us when it comes to relationships, and thatâs okay. It just means that when you finally do give your heart to someone, theyâll be all the more deserving of it. And I promise you that someone is out there.â She smiles, adding, âMaybe closer than you think.â
âWhatâwhatâs that supposed to mean?â
âCome on,â she says with a laugh, unfolding from her crouch and holding her hand out to you. âYour makeupâs all messed up. Iâll help you fix it before everyone else gets here.â
In her upstairs bathroom, she pushes off all the clothes laying haphazardly on an armchair and instructs you to sit there. With four cocktails between the two of you, everything becomes funnyâyouâre both laughing so hard at the shape of her mascara tube that it takes her five minutes to properly apply the makeup to your lashes. She keeps scolding you for scrunching your eyes in laughter and stopping her from doing her job, as if sheâs not the one who canât see through the tears in her eyes. âNow my mascaraâs running!â she complains when she sees her reflection in the mirror.
Like little girls playing around with their motherâs beauty products, she applies eyeshadows of all colors on your lids, tries out a different lipstick on each half of your lips to see which one fits you best. You look ridiculous, but youâd probably let her keep going for hours if it wasnât for the sudden ring of the doorbell. You both freeze mid-laughing fit as if the whole point of this evening wasnât for people to come over, the blush brush in Chaewonâs hand floating inches from your cheek.
âWho is it?â you whisper, unable to tell who it is from the voices mixing with Jaeminâs downstairs.
âSounds like Jeno and his new girlfriend,â she whispers back. âYou havenât met her. Sheâs way too cool for him.â
âAs are all of Jenoâs girlfriends.â
Chaewon nods. Before she can say anything else, Jaeminâs voice rings out in the house, calling out for her. âBe down in a minute!â she shouts back, then turns to you. Her energy seems to have shifted from when you were laughing around together when she says, âLetâs get this off you. I made you look a little crazy.â
As she douses a cotton pad with makeup remover, you ask her quietly, âAre you okay?â
With the cotton over your eyes, you canât see her expression, but youâve known her long enough to picture it. The tight lips, the slightly furrowed eyebrows. âIâm okay, just a little nervous,â she says. âItâs been a while since weâve had this many people over at once.â
Your surprise only lasts a secondâalthough Chaewon had appeared nothing but excited every time you talked about this weekend, you remember how sheâd grow anxious in the last moments before any party she threw. You take the cotton pad from her hands, holding onto her wrist as you look earnestly into her eyes. âItâs going to be an amazing evening, Chae. Youâre the best hostess in this town. The food looks great, as it always does, and everyoneâs going to be ecstatic to see each other again. And to congratulate you! Youâre getting married in two days!â
A small smile was forming on her lips as you spoke, but itâs the mention of her wedding that really seems to do the trick. âI am,â she says quietly, smiling down at her feet like a giddy schoolgirl.Â
âAnd your fiancĂ©âs waiting downstairs for you. Along with Jeno and his cool girlfriend.â
She sighs deeply. âYouâre right. Iâve been busy all day getting everything ready, and now that thereâs nothing left to do, Iâm panicking.â
âThereâs no reason to,â you tell her, squeezing her wrist warmly. âGo. Iâll take care of my makeup.â
With a quick hug, Chaewon thanks you and heads downstairs. In the mirror, it really does look like a small child had far too much fun on your face. Wiping it all off with her cleansing oil and digging through her pouch for liner and a lip tint, you remember all the evenings spent at your auntâs house, her combing through your closet before a party because your aunt let you buy little tops that her parents would have a seizure seeing her wear. For once, the roles are reversed.Â
Calming her down has had the same effect on your nerves, although the heavy doses of vodka and prosecco in the cocktails mightâve helped. Your heart is only slightly beating faster than usual as the doorbell rings again, the voices of more people filling Chaewonâs and Jaeminâs living room. For some reason, youâre worried that coming downstairs as theyâre all greeting each other will be more awkward than meeting them out in the backyard, so you wait until it sounds like theyâve left the room. But your plan isnât so successfulâyouâre halfway down the stairs when the door opens again, the person entering seemingly familiar enough to this house to come in without announcing their presence. Your body registers the sight of him first, heart dropping to your stomach, electricity reaching all the way to your fingertips before his name has even made its way to your brain.
âJaeyun,â you breathe out, the wind knocked out of you as though you didnât see him mere hours ago and as though you were unaware of his being here tonight. What is wrong with you? Are you sure Chaewon didnât lace your drinks with something else?
His smile has the power to reassure you and double your nerves all at once. He waits for you, watching as you make your way down the remaining stairs. âLong time no see,â he says when you reach him, an infuriatingly charming grin on his lips. You canât bite back the one growing on your own. âI hope you didnât miss me too much.â
âIt was a struggle, but I made it through.â
He chuckles, and a few seconds pass in which you donât quite look at each other; youâre about to offer to join the others in the yard, but he speaks first. âYou look beautiful.â Three simple words, but coming from Jaeyun, and spoken with that low, intimate tone, they pack a punch.
You hope you donât look too obviously flustered as you gaze down at yourself, picking up the hem of your dress and rubbing the fabric between your fingers self-consciously. âThanks, Yun,â you say, voice barely above a whisper. You give yourself a few seconds to assess him, and the conclusion you come to doesnât help your stateâyouâve seen him wear white button-ups dozens of times before, at school events and fancy gatherings, but you swear his arms didnât always fill out the sleeves so perfectly, straining ever so slightly against the fabric. And sure, not having it buttoned to the top is fine, but are three undone buttons really necessary? You stop yourself from making a comment about cleavage and return his compliment instead. Then, with a frown, you tell him the others are already outside and turn on your heels.
Behind you, you hear a chuckle, then the sound of his footsteps following you. You thought itâd be nice to have Jaeyun around, a familiar and reassuring presence to look for if you ever felt awkward or out-of-place tonight, but it turns out it might be more distressing than anything.
Outside, all the newcomers, save for Jenoâs girlfriend, greet you with wide, surprised smiles, like they canât believe you actually made it all the way here. Most of your old classmates have stayed in the areaâone has gone abroad, a few have moved to Daegu, the closest big city, but for the most part, they either still live here or in nearby, somewhat larger towns with more job opportunities. Thatâs why theyâve remained such a tight-knit circle, why everyone knows everyoneâs business, and why you were much more nervous than anyone should be at the idea of going to their high school reunion. Your distance is all the more obvious by their lack thereof.Â
No one is showing you open hostility like in the worst-case scenarios youâd dreamed up, so you must be doing a good job at smiling and catching up with them and being normal with your hands, although you gladly accept the champagne glass Jaeyun hands you, thankful for something to keep them busy. And you find that itâs nice to be here. Itâs nice to know Yurim and Jimin are as inseparable as ever and are planning to do the whole baby-at-the-same-time thing (once they manage to both find a boyfriend). Itâs nice to see Jeno start to look less like a nerd over time, but that he hasnât lost his ability to bag the most beautiful women youâve ever met, like Giselle, who he very proudly introduces you to, and who is indeed way cooler than him. She volunteers at the animal shelter in her free time and DJs for huge techno clubs in the city on the weekend, so to be fair, sheâs cooler than most people.
As more people start trickling in, instead of retreating into yourself, you relax. The weather is perfect, the sun making its slow, lazy descent into the night, a warm summer breeze coming through; people are happy to be here, to see each other, to see you; when Chaewon isnât frantically running around, making sure that everyone is doing okay and that there are enough mini-fours to go around, she actually looks like sheâs enjoying herself.
And thereâs Jaeyun. Itâs not that you mean to notice him, but your gaze keeps drifting to him of its own volition. He moves through the crowd with ease, clearly surrounded by people heâs comfortable with, always being pulled into conversations or making small talk with everyone he bumps into. His eyes seem to find yours often, and every time, he smiles at you like he knows something you donât. Instead of quickly turning away like he used to as a teenager, unashamed at getting caught, his eyes linger on your face before slowly returning to whoeverâs talking to him.
Thereâs a really annoying moment when heâs standing by the barbecue, keeping Jaemin company while he grills sausages and skewers, holding a bottle of beer in one hand, talking and laughing seemingly without a care in the world, as though he doesnât know, or care, how infuriatingly hot he is. Hair pushed back from his forehead, a slight blush on his cheeks from the heat of the grill, that stupid third button still popped open. He looks like he was taken straight from the front cover of a menâs magazine, and it shouldnât be this attractive, but it is, and thereâs nothing you can do about it but down the rest of your champagne glass.
Somethingâs different about him. Despite having seen him over the years, all this time, whenever youâve thought of Jaeyun, the person who came to mind was fifteen, sixteen, seventeen. A little shy, especially around girls, but with a smile that could charm a rock and that he hadnât yet discovered the power of. The pant legs of his school uniform were a little too long because he was sure heâd have one last growth spurt in your final year of school after seeing Heeseung go through one. He never did, then couldnât be bothered to exchange them or get them hemmed. They got soaking wet every time it rained. Of course some things have remained unchangedâheâs still as attentive as always, remembering small things about people, asking them about it, and listening with genuine interest when they answer. He doesnât try to make things about him, and he doesnât get annoyed when they ramble on for minutes on end without ever returning a question. Itâs hard to pinpoint exactly what it is that feels so new about him, so unfamiliar in this exciting, intriguing way.
After observing him through careful, discreet glances (which he seems to notice half of), you come to the conclusion that itâs in the way he carries himself. He stands straighter, walks with more confidence, and has figured out what to do with his arms. Heâs always been a human magnet: old ladies made conversation with him in grocery lines, strangers stopped him in the street for directions, he was elected class president every year without ever putting himself forward. You remember the pressure he used to feel because of it, like he couldnât bear to let anyone down although he was sure itâd inevitably happenâbut now, he seems completely at ease with all this attention on him. Not like heâs gloating, but like heâs in his element.
Eager to avoid his gaze and the dreadful feelings it causes in you, you move around the backyard as often as he does under the guise of catching up with as many as you can, always managing to be part of a different group than he is. And you drink. Everyone does, so youâre not embarrassing yourself on your ownâitâs a known fact that Chaewon can and will feed an army, so her guests bring tons of alcohol to make up for all her efforts. Your glass never goes empty for long simply because no one lets itâyou could refuse, but you donât.Â
You spend thirty minutes stuffing yourself with Chaewonâs cucumber salad and getting all the staff drama of your old school from Yunjin, who now works there as an English teacher. When sheâs done telling you about the affair between the vice-principal and your Year 11 Geography teacher, she takes you aback by asking, âSo, whatâs up between you and Jaeyun?â
Back in high school, people often mistook you for a couple or joked around about you liking each other, so you do as you did thenâyou laugh it off, saying thereâs nothing there. That doesnât seem to satisfy Yunjin, however. She tilts her head at you, asking, âAre you sure? He seems so⊠attentive to you. Just now at the buffet he stopped you from getting the potato salad because thereâs mustard in it. And in high school he was always running around doing things for you. All the girls were jealous of you.â
Your smile feels frozen, plastered on as you stare down at your plate. âThatâs just Jaeyun. Heâs nice to everyone, it doesnât mean anything.â
âY/N,â a voice says, but it definitely does not belong to Yunjin. Not only does it come from behind you, itâs also much too deep to be hers. When you lift your head, sheâs looking right over your shoulder, surprise written all over her features. You turn around to find Jaeyun standing there, handing you a hot dog. âDelivery,â he says, tone light, but his closed-off expression betrays him. You donât know how much of your conversation he heard, but he mustâve not liked it. Youâre not sure whyâitâs not like you lied. Jaeyun is nice to everyone.Â
You bite into the bread. It has all of your perfect toppings for a hot dogâketchup, fried onions, shredded cheddar and jalapeños. When Yunjin leans towards you, a hand on your arm as she says, âI donât think it doesnât mean anything,â you wonder if sheâs right.
A few drinks later, youâre stumbling inside the house, headed for the bathroom, when a hand wraps around your wrist. It belongs to none other than Jaeyun, whose expression is a mix of amusement and concern. Now that all the foodâs come out, the kitchen is dark, bathing in the fairy lightsâ glow from outside and from the few other lights in Chaewon and Jaeminâs garden. And itâs empty, save for the two of you. Itâs only the copious amounts of alcohol running in your blood that makes you think how enticing he looks in this semi-darkness, or that makes you imagine the affection you think you see in his eyes.
Of course youâd spend all evening avoiding him only to find yourself face-to-face alone with him suddenly like this. You look down at his fingers on you, and he lets go.
âHere.â With his other hand, he offers you a glass of water.
âIâm good,â you say, trying to sound casual, but you donât like the close attention heâs paying you. Or maybe youâre embarrassingly drunk and heâs sending you a message. In any case, itâs always been hard for you to accept Jaeyunâs small gesturesâyou always have to remind yourself heâs doing it out of the goodness of his heart and not because he especially cares about you.Â
âY/N.â The way he says your name makes lightning zip down your spine. His voice is stern, but thereâs a certain warmth to it. Like youâre being unreasonable, but cutely so.Â
You take the water from his hands and down it in one go. âHappy?â
âVery,â he says, a smirk on his lips that you frown at as he takes the cup back and places it in the sink. He rests his hands behind him on the counter, eyes searching your face, and you, for some reason, stand there and let him instead of going to the bathroom like youâd originally set out to do. Even as silence stretches out between you, your feet are frozen, and youâre finally courageous enough to meet his gaze without backing down. Even as his eyes scan your face, settling on your lips, and your heart threatens to give out. Even as he takes a step towards you and your chest starts visibly heaving up-and-down with every breath you take.
When heâs standing in front of you, he finally speaks, his voice unlike youâve ever heard it beforeâlow, vulnerable, and with a hint of ruggedness that makes your head spin. âHave you been avoiding me?â
âNoââ
âDonât lie to me, Y/N, please.â He sounds like heâs seconds away from pleading with you. Heâs never been one to hide when heâs hurt, so youâve heard him many times like this, but never when you were the cause of his upset. It was always because of a bad grade, a fight with his parents, a joke he took the wrong way. You wouldnât know if you ever hurt him before, because heâs never come to you about it. It feels weird knowing youâre capable of such a thing.
âIâm nâOkay, yes, Iâm avoiding you a little bit,â you say in a small voice. Whether itâs the look on Jaeyunâs face or the last cocktail you had, but you canât bring yourself to pretend.Â
But you belatedly realize that of course, answering this question will only bring about another, much harder to answer: âWhy?â
So you make up another lie thatâs about as believable as the first one. âIâI donât know, Yunnie. Iâm just trying to speak to as many people as I can.â
âBut not me?â
Is he drunk? He always got whinier after drinking. That must be it. Although his voice isnât whiny at allâheâs not complaining, he rather sounds like he has answers he wants from you and is set on getting them. But itâs the only explanation you can come up with.
Youâre unable to keep his gaze anymore. Looking down at the floor, you say, âWe spoke earlier. Weâre speaking now.â
âYeah, and I practically had to corner you for it.â The vulnerability has left his voice and he sounds⊠frustrated?Â
He crosses his arms over his chest, and despite yourself, your eyes follow the movement. Heâs rolled up his sleeves, letting out his forearms on full display for you. Thatâs an image you immediately need out of your head, so you make the mistake of looking up at his face again, only to be met with his jaw locked tight, his eyebrows slightly furrowed, and the intensity of his eyes staring right into yours.
Heâs allowed to be mad, but does he have to look so good doing it?
As if he wasnât close enough already, he takes another step towards you. It forces you to look up at him, and the sight of his face so near yours is devastating. You can already tell itâll haunt you for nights to come.
âDo I make you nervous, Y/N? Is that why you donât want to be around me?â
You inhale sharply, audibly, and the sound seems to amuse Jaeyun. The way he smirks down at you should be condescending, but he manages to make it impossibly attractive. Like he has you exactly where he wants youâwhich doesnât make any sense. You donât understand why heâs doing this, why itâd upset him that youâd rather talk to other people than to him, how heâs figured out the reason youâre avoiding him is the butterflies gnawing at your stomach every time your gazes intertwine. Heâs never done any of this before.
âNo,â you find yourself saying, but itâs an obvious lie to both of you. Youâre breathless uttering that one word, fingers shaking from the tension in your body and Jaeyunâs proximity.
Then he sighs, and the Jaeyun you know is returned to you. A little tired by your antics, maybe, but more worried than anything. âIâll take you home when youâre ready to go.â
âButââ
âNo buts. Just come get me when you want to leave.â And with that, he turns and heads back outside, leaving you to wonder what that was all about as you wobble your way to the bathroom.
When you come back out, you make a point of sitting in the empty lawn chair next to Jaeyun and joining the conversation heâs in. He smiles at you and you glare at him, feeling like a scolded child.
Maybe alcohol makes you a little immature.
Youâre having a grand old time listening to Jenoâs and Giselleâs travel stories, but as people slowly start making their way home, aware of the weekend full of festivities theyâve got ahead of them, dread sinks in. When the partyâs over, youâll be left alone with Jaeyun. Thankfully, thereâs enough alcohol left to throw another party, and you serve yourself a couple of very generous cranberry-vodkas to prepare yourself for later. Maybe if youâre passed out in Jaeyunâs car you wonât have to talk to him.
When the gardenâs really starting to empty out, you find a small moment during which Jaeyun is busy chatting with Jaemin and some other guys, and stealthily approach Chaewon to tell her youâll be on your way now.Â
âArenât you leaving with Jaeââ
You interrupt her with a hand to her mouth. Even though heâs across the yard from you, you donât want to risk it. âIâll see you tomorrow,â you whisper, then tip-toe your way around the backyard to the front of the house, where your bike waits for you. Somewhere deep in the back of your head, part of you has remained sober enough to tell you how bad an idea it is to bike home after drinking so much. You wouldnât run into many cars at this time of night, but itâll be dark, and the ditches are deep here.Â
But you couldnât have predicted for your best friend to betray you. Just as youâre succeeding on your third try to swing your leg over your bike, you hear her voice, clear as day, shouting, âJaeyun! Y/Nâs leaving without you!â
You swear he teleports over to you. You freeze, hoping that moving as little as you can will turn you invisible.
It doesnât work.
âWhat are you doing?â Jaeyun asks as he makes his way over to you. Youâre relieved when he doesnât sound annoyed, just concerned. He stands in front of you, two hands on your bike handle right next to yours. âI told you to come get me when you were ready. You canât go home on your own like this.â
âSure I can.â You try to hoist yourself up onto your seat, and immediately lose balance, stumbling to the side. Thankfully, Jaeyunâs hand finds your waist before you can fallâit steadies your body but not your heart.Â
âCome on, Y/N. Letâs get you to bed.â
Does he hear himself? Heâs just being a good friend, so why does he have to phrase things in such an intimate way, and make your heart go all pitter-patter like the sixteen-year-old you once were? Why does he have to speak to you in that low, affectionate tone of his, like youâre someone he canât help but take care of?Â
You take a deep breath, resigning yourself to your fate. âOkay.â
He helps you off of your bike and into his car. His hold on you is gentle but firm, and you try your very hardest not to think about whether this is how he would hold you in other situations. Before he can even turn on the ignition, you close your eyes and pretend to sleep. You hear him chuckle, then back out of Chaewonâs and Jaeminâs driveway. Once or twice, you hear him inhale as though heâs going to speak, but he seems to decide against it. A ten-minute bike ride makes for a very short car ride, and before you know it, heâs already pulling up in front of your auntâs house. You keep your pretense up as he walks around the car and opens your door, and youâre sure you make a very convincing show of waking up and being sleepy.
As he takes your hand to help you out of the car, you ignore your instincts yelling at you to jump away from him. You tell yourself itâs only so you don't get caught in your lie that you let him slip an arm over his shoulders and guide you to your front door. It has nothing to do with the fact that your skin tingles everywhere it touches his, or that it feels terribly nice to be handled with so much care and patience. The front door is unlocked, and he holds you steady as you slip out of your shoes. Only when he closes the door behind you do you snap out of it.
âThank you, Yun. Iâll be alright from here.â
He narrows his eyes at you. âIâm not sure you will. I donât trust you not to trip up the stairs.â
You panic as he leads you further inside the house. âButâWhat if my aunt sees us?â
He stops in his tracks, then turns his head to look down at you with something you think is mischief in his eyes. âWhy? What about it?â
âShe might misunderstand!â you whisper-yell.
âWhatâs there to misunderstand, Y/N? Iâve taken you home drunk a dozen times before. Besides, Iâm just Jaeyun, right? This doesnât mean anything.â Youâre left speechless. So he did hear you earlier, and although he kept his tone light-hearted, something makes you think he isnât entirely unoffended. You stare at him, sure the guilt on your face is obvious. Eventually, he sighs, starts walking again. âIâm just teasing you.â
Despite yourself, you are glad heâs there to help you up to your bedroomâthe stairs are remarkably wobbly tonight. Even though he tries to sit you down gently onto your bed, you let yourself flop on the mattress, already half-asleep the moment your back hits it. Youâre uncharacteristically pliant as he guides you into a more comfortable position, lifting your head to rest on your pillows, pulling your duvet over you. You somehow feel more drunk now than you were leaving the party, as though Jaeyunâs touch and proximity are stronger than any alcohol. Maybe thatâs why you suddenly find this situation hilarious. Your first chuckle makes Jaeyunâs hand freeze on your blanket; then, when giggles start pouring uncontrollably out of you, he asks you whatâs so funny, and has to shush you, saying youâll wake your aunt up. But you can tell heâs amused, and it only makes you laugh more.Â
âSeriously, whatâs gotten into you?â he asks, sitting next to you. For some reason, the dip of his weight on the mattress feels reassuring.
âThis is just nice,â you mutter, eyes still closed. âIt feels nice.â
Heâs silent for a few seconds. âWhat is?â he whispers.
âThis. You being here.â
He releases a shaky breath. âIt could happen more often, if you let me. It could happen every night.â
You giggle, because you know heâs just joking around. But you let him, even if it hurts a little bit, and you play along. âYeah, thatâd be nice. I think Iâd sleep a lot better.â
With a delicate finger, he brushes strands of hair away from your eyes. You hum, smiling contentedly at his touch. This is such a nice dream that you hope you wonât have to wake up too soon from. âI think I would, too,â he whispers, voice shaky like he isnât at all happy like you are, which confuses you. âI donât know what to do, Y/N. I want so badly to take care of you, but you wonât let me. I donât know how else to show you how good I could be to you.â
âYouâre taking care of me now.â
âYeah, and youâre so drunk you probably wonât remember this tomorrow.â
He sniffles, and you suddenly get the sensation that this isnât a dream at all. You keep your eyes closed anyway, frowning as you turn your head to the side, tears starting to form behind your eyelids.
âBe back in a minute,â he whispers.
You open your eyes to find him gone. You try to make sense of what just happened, but your thoughts are muddled and hazy, and more questions than answers appear. You donât come to any satisfying conclusions, at least none that arenât clearly fueled by your delusions concerning Jaeyun.Â
When he comes back, heâs holding a tall glass of water. He seems briefly surprised to see you awake. He puts the glass gently down onto your bedside table, then kneels by your bed, grabbing your hand that youâd slipped above the comforter. He looks into your eyes with an intensity youâre unfamiliar with coming from him, and that makes your stomach twist. âListen, Y/N. Youâre only here for a few days, so Iâll be very clear about this. And if youâve forgotten by tomorrow, Iâll make sure to remind you.â He pauses here, takes a deep breath. Thereâs a furrow in his eyebrows as he speaks. He looks desperate, but for what, you couldnât tell. âIâm not letting you go this time. I feel like I keep losing you, over and over again, just when I think I finally have you. Iâm not letting that happen again. I donât want to be apart from you anymore.â
Your mind is reeling. You feel dizzy. You close your eyes, but it doesnât help. Jaeyunâs words are loud and nonsensical in your head. âDo you mean⊠as friends?â you ask, because the other option seems so impossible, even in your inebriated state, you can hardly seriously entertain it.
He sighs, and it sounds like disappointment. âIf thatâs what you want, then Iâll give up on trying to be more. But if it isnât what you want, then no.â
Your eyes fly open. Does that meanâŠ
âIâm in love with you, Y/N. Iâve always been, and I canât take hiding it anymore. Iâll take rejection over another day of pretending all I want to be is your friend. I want to talk to you everyday. I want to see you more often. I canât keep going like this, calling you once every few months and acting like Iâm fine with it.â
Youâre stunned into silence. Even your thoughts are frozen, your mind completely blank. How do you react to words youâve wanted to hear your whole life, and have convinced yourself you never would, not in a million years?
âIââ
âYou donât have to say anything now,â he interrupts, and youâre relieved. âWhatever it is, Iâd rather hear it when youâre sober. Iâm sorry for springing this up on you, I just⊠I think I wouldâve flaked out if I hadnât done it right now.â
He gazes down at you with a fondness youâve only seen in your dreams, and strokes your hair. âIâll let you sleep now. Iâll see you tomorrow, okay?â
âOkay,â you say, surprised you're able to speak.Â
âOkay.â
He seems to hesitate for a second, but whatever it is, he decides against it. He gets up, and with one final glance back at you, closes your bedroom door gently. You listen for his footsteps down the stairs, the sound of the front door, and of his car driving away, and find yourself wishing heâd stayed, wishing for proof that you didnât dream up everything he just said.Â
.
.
Iâm in love with you, Y/N.
You wake with a start. Jaeyunâs voice was so loud in your head, you thought he was standing right over youâbut itâs only your imagination playing tricks on you, you realize with some disappointment.Â
Some moments from last night are blurry or simply inexistent in your mind. Yurim sent selfies a bunch of you took to the group chat, of which you have no recollection being a part of. You have no idea how the marker doodles appeared on your arm, nor who is the artist behind them. But Jaeyunâs words you remember with dizzying, intimidating clarity, the words he spoke to you in the near-complete darkness of this room, and that you donât think you could ever forget, no matter your state.
Part of you has always longed to hear those words, but another part has always dreaded they would be heard one day. You donât know which part is stronger right now. Replaying his voice in your mind, your heart flutters at the same time as your stomach sinks. Theyâre words that have the power to change everything, that perhaps already have, and thatâs what terrifies you.
Itâs already ten in the morning. You wish you could stay here all day, safe under the covers, rehashing those words until they lose all meaning, but you know thatâs impossible. Not only do you have a pounding headache and a mouth drier than the desert to tend to, more importantly, you have a responsibility to be there for Chaewon and the things sheâs planned for today. So you force yourself out of bed and begrudgingly make your way downstairs.Â
Your aunt has already left for work. Breakfast is ready on the dining table, along with a tall glass of water, ibuprofen, and a note that reads: I didnât hear you come home last night, so I assume you had a good time. Take this and eat your weight in bread. Thereâs coffee left in the Keurig. Bless her. You know better than to eat too much, thoughâif thereâs one thing Chaewon takes seriously, itâs brunch, so you know youâll have plenty of food to cure your hangover in just a bit.Â
As hard as you try to divert your thoughts towards anything else, itâs impossible not to think of what Jaeyun said last night. Itâs all your mind circles back to, like a vulture thatâs found its prey and wonât let go. Despite that, the shock has yet to wear off, and you stare into your cup of coffee, searching in vain for answers there.
It took you a while to fall for Jaeyun, then it took you even longer to admit those feelings to yourself. At fourteen years old, stepping foot in Gimcheon for the first time, you wanted nothing to do with the people here. Not with your aunt, not with your classmates. You wanted to wallow in your grief, for the bitterness of the injustice thatâd taken your parents away from you to fully take over you.Â
Jaeyun was one of the people who didnât let that happen. Some of the kids in your class found you odd or standoffish, often whispering behind your back about your sudden arrival in town, but he and Chaewon never failed to try and talk to you despite your extremely low-effort replies, to invite you out for snacks or basketball after class, to send you the lessons you missed on days your body felt too heavy to get out of bed.Â
Nothing in particular happened for you to suddenly change your mind about them. Maybe it was because you thought theyâd stop pestering you if you just said yes, or because you sometimes felt the sharp loss of your friends in Seoul, whose calls youâd all ignored since moving. You surprised your new classmates as much as yourself when they asked you if you wanted to go eat tteokbokki with them, and you casually said, âSure, why not,â as if your acceptance was a daily occurrence.Â
The rest was history. Although it took some more time before you really opened up to them, they accepted you the way you were, sharp edges and all. With them, part of the person you were before could resurface, carefree, happy. You still went home to a mostly silent, grief-stricken relative, who was practically a stranger to you, but at least you could look forward to seeing your friendsâand something as simple as that made life easier every day.
As soon as you thought they started to appear, you tried to squash your feelings for Jaeyun, to no avail. Just when you told yourself you could never be more than friends, heâd bring you strawberry milk from the convenience store he walks by on his way to school. After spending an evening making a list of all the reasons itâd be a bad idea for you to date (itâd be awkward with your friends, you and your sadness would be a burden to him, it was too scary to get close to someone when they could leave you at any time), youâd wake up the next morning with a text that said, Good morning!!!! Did you know that if the Sun stopped shining, itâd take 8.5 minutes for us to realize it??!Â
But I know right away when youâre not shining
:)
Momâs making your favorite shrimp jeon tonight so you HAVE to come over
And even your strongest will wasnât enough against the force of his kindness. You were forced to submit to it, and to suffer for it for years to comeâwhen other girls offered him chocolate on Valentineâs Day. When Bae Sumin asked him to the dance, and you had to ignore his concerned expression as he repeatedly asked you if it was really okay that he went, and all you could do was smile and convince him that it was. When you left for university and you had to stop yourself from asking why it seemed to be making him so sad, so uncharacteristically upset with you, almost like he wanted to punish you for leaving him. When every time you came back after that, it became harder and harder to say goodbye to him again.
You got mad at him sometimes. If something unexpected reminded you of your parents, like your momâs favorite dish being served at the cafeteria, or someone using an expression your dad often said, youâd become irritable, and would be unable or unwilling to explain why. He was so patient with you then, even more attentive to your mood than usual, but the feeling of being treated kindly, like he needed to walk on eggshells around you, incomprehensibly made you even more abrasive. Youâd blow up at him: I donât need your help, I donât need your pity, get off my back, what are you even being so nice for anyways?
And his reply would only drive you further insane: Because I care about you.
Youâd always wish heâd say anything else, something less vague like Because itâs the right thing to do, or Because thatâs who I am, or even Because youâre my friend, but no, heâd say, âBecause I care about you,â and it was worse than anything he could ever say.
Because of course, friends care about each other. Of course they help each other out and do kind things for one another. But you so desperately wished Jaeyun could care for you in another way. And that was the problem: you couldnât stop yourself reading into his actions, devoid of the meaning you wanted them to have.
And there was always that lingering thought: Iâm leaving anyway. You were a city girl at heart. You missed the beauty stores that occupied five floors, the animal cafĂ©s you and your friends had spent way too much of your allowance at, the billboards of your favorite celebrities in the subway, the libraries with their wide range of manhwas for you to choose from. As much as youâd come to love your life in Gimcheon, you knew you couldnât stay. You knew you couldnât live on a nearby campus during the week and come back on the weekends like most of your friends would be doing.Â
At eighteen years old, you wanted a clean break. You wanted to attend a prestigious university, to dress up for class, to have study dates at a cozy cafĂ©, to go out to a club on the weekend and not worry about how youâd get home because the buses stopped running way before midnight. Youâd daydream about the cool job youâd have, the cool clothes youâd wear, the cool people youâd meet. Then youâd go downstairs and see your aunt, and sheâd ask if you were okay with frozen dumplings for a third night in a row. Or youâd arrive at school and see Chaewon and Yunjin shrieking over Got7âs new song. Or youâd get a text from Jaeyun, saying, Cats use physics to land on their feet. Theyâre not aware of it though. And suddenly, the idea of a clean break became much, much harder.
Once you left, your reasons for not confessing to Jaeyun didnât changeâif anything, they strengthened. Growing up didnât make you any less scared of opening up to someone, of letting them see the vulnerable sides of you, and hoping theyâd still love you. Even if you had a positive example in Chaewon and Jaeyun, youâd never experienced it with a romantic partner, and not only did your incessant but unconscious comparing of them to Jaeyun stop you from completely falling in love with the few boyfriends youâve had over the years, your inability to fully bare yourself emotionally to them inevitably caught up to you. Theyâd point it out, trying to coax your story and emotions out of you with kind words, gentle touchesâbut you never wanted it enough to make the extra effort. Theyâd take your independence as a personal affront, like it was a fault on their part that you were allergic to relying on others. Theyâd get frustrated. Some of them would yell at you while you stared off into the distance, numb, wondering if youâd always be like this. Theyâd break up with you, and youâd move on like nothing happened.
The fear of loss still froze your heart into place. Even in the throes of puberty, your mother and father were your two favorite people on Earth. At thirteen, you thought theyâd live forever. You were reasonable enough to know not everyone you loved would dieâalthough the thought of going through that grief again did keep you up at night. A bad break-up was enough to terrify you. And what would you do when you finally handed your heart to someone, only for them to turn around and decide they donât want it after all?
A handful of times, you tried to sit yourself down and imagine, as objectively as you could, what might happen if you confessed your feelings to Jaeyun. You tried, but you never could. It was too scary, with him. As your friend, he was the glue that held you together. If you took that one step closer, youâd be too far goneâand once that happened, who was to say, when it inevitably ended, if youâd ever be able to tape yourself back together.
Youâve had many self-indulgent thoughts over the years, many delusions youâve had to compel yourself away from when he looked at you a little long, grew a little too quiet when you talked about another boy, came up with increasingly ridiculous excuses to walk you home even though it was out of his way. Youâve worked so hard to bury them deep, and here he comes, so late on a Thursday night that it became a Friday morning, telling you it was neither self-indulgence nor delusion.Â
Itâs too much to process with a hangover.Â
Your shower doesnât have the relaxing effect you hoped it would have on your nerves. Even when you turn the temperature as low as you can take it, your skin burns hot at the thought of seeing Jaeyun again, of him repeating himself in broad daylight. By the time youâve dressed and gotten ready, your heart is still racing wild, and youâre no closer to figuring out what the correct attitude around him or right thing to say is.
Youâre tying your shoelaces when the doorbell rings. Of course, itâs Jaeyun standing behind the door, asking you if youâre ready to go to Chaewonâs.Â
You just gape at him. Youâd prepared yourself mentally to see him a little later, with other people aroundâyou hadnât expected this and your brain simply malfunctions as a result.
He chuckles. âI wasnât going to let you walk all the way there. You left your bike, remember?â
From his softened tone and the way he gulps as he awaits your answer, you can tell heâs not just asking whether you remember the drive home. He looks at you, a little expectant, a little scared, and his demeanor relaxes you. Heâs not acting like nothing happened last night, and he doesnât seem overly confident afterâwell, after confessing his love for you. Thatâs what it was, wasnât it? No matter how hard a time you have believing it. It relaxes you because it feels like youâre not worrying alone about this shift in your friendship, about this rearranging of things and feelings. With just one look, he tells you heâs right there with you.
And thatâs all you need.
âRight. Thanks, Yun.â
He stands there for a little, expression morphing into something giddier, more hopeful, and you wonder how long heâd stay there looking at you if you didnât clear your throat and say, âShould we⊠go?â
âYes! Yes, of course, letâs go,â he says, laughing awkwardly, rubbing the back of his head as he turns away and heads towards his car.
Surely, he canât always have been this obvious. Surely, if heâs been in love with you for as long as he says he has, then he learned just as well as you did to school his feelings and make them as discreet as he could. Because if he was acting this way all along, all boyish grins and non-stop glances your way, then you wouldâve had to be the densest person on Earth not to notice.
And it hurts your pride a little to think you mightâve actually been this dense.
After a minute on the road, he asks, âHow are you feeling? Not too hungover?â
âA little. But Iâll feel a lot better after having some of Chaeâs pancakes.â
âYeah. And the pressed orange juice as well. With theââ
ââOranges from her grandparentsâ garden?â you say at the same time, and laugh.
âYeah. Itâs the best,â he says.
âWhat about you?â you ask. âYou didnât drink that much last night, right?â
âYep. Just a beer at the start of the evening, and thatâs it.â Then, he smiles, a little smug, and adds: âWhy? Were you watching?â
You scoff, crossing your arms over your chest as though he was making a ridiculous assumption, when you very well knew you were constantly aware of his whereabouts last night. Of course you noticed him sipping on either water or Pepsi the entire evening. âI was not. But you were able to drive, so I assumed.â
âRight.â That smug smile of his is still fixed on his lips, so you know you sounded just as unconvincing as you felt. âWell, I was watching. And I can tell you you drank something like seven different sorts of alcohol last night.â
For your own sanity, you ignore the first part, and focus on the second. You groan, hiding your face in your hands. âThatâs why my headacheâs so bad.â
Jaeyun reacts immediately. His head turns back-and-forth between you and the road ahead as he says, âIs it? Did you drink enough water? There should be some painkillers in the glove compartment, if youââ
âItâs okay, Yun,â you interrupt, laughing softly. âI took some ibuprofen already. Iâll feel better after eating.â
He seems skeptical. âOkay. But let me know if you need anything, yeah?â
âI will.â
As you feel the tingle of incoming tears in your eyes, you turn your head away from him. Looking out the passenger window, you think how stark the difference is between being on the receiving end of Jaeyunâs attentiveness when you were just friends, and now that you know the way he really sees you. The crushing weight of your repressed emotions is, at last, gone, and youâre only left with a light-heartedness you havenât felt in years.
Is there really a universe where every day is like this? It feels too good to be true.Â
But when Jaeyun reaches out, the palm of his hand facing up as it floats above your thigh, his expression bashful, you think â you dare to hope â you might soon be living in that universe. You take his hand, and the rest of the car ride is silent, like this one simple touch is all the words you need.
Youâre glad you remember what he told you last night. Hearing it again now, in broad daylight, with no alcohol in your system to be blamed for your reactions, would be too much to bear. The mere thought of it has your heart racing, more than it already is from the warmth of Jaeyunâs hand in yours. You look down at it, the way it sits so prettily in your lap, the way his fingers intertwine with yours like itâs what they were meant to do. You crave to touch his hand more, to turn it around and analyze the lines of his palm, to feel the ridges of his knuckles, the smoothness of his nails under your fingers, but you stop yourself. Itâs an art piece in a museum that you content yourself with watching from afar, awed.
Too soon, you arrive at Chaewonâs house. The loss of Jaeyunâs touch is almost alarmingâwhat if he changes his mind and this was the only time youâd get to do this?
But as though he can read your thoughts, he guides you with a hand to your lower back towards Chaewonâs and Jaeminâs front doorâand he pauses before it, gazing down at you with a smile you want to interpret as reassuring.Â
Iâm not letting you go this time. Iâm not letting that happen.
Maybe youâre overly self-conscious, but you swear a few of your old classmates exchange knowing looks when you and Jaeyun arrive together. Chaewon is the least discreet about it, stopping in her tracks when she sees the two of you, a steaming plate of pancakes in her hands, her smile wide as she gets Jaeminâs attention and nods her head in your direction. You want to escape to the kitchen under the pretense of offering your help, but Jaeyun is already pulling out a chair for you and taking a seat in the one next to it.Â
Thankfully, almost everyone is in a state similar to yours, too hungover and tired to really pay either of you too much attention. Their minds are on the food in their plates and the coffee in their mugsâthe atmosphere is relaxed, everyone making quiet conversation with their neighbors. With Chaewon on your right and Jaeyun on your left, youâre free to scarf down hash browns and scrambled eggs without having to entertain anyone. He seems to be pretty engrossed in his chat about soccer with Jeno, and yet, he knows every time you need something, standing up and reaching for the bacon or the orange juice before youâve even said anything. He holds the plate while you serve yourself, then places it back to its original spot, shooting you a smile that never fails to make your stomach twist before returning his attention to Jeno.
Chaewon had kept this afternoonâs activities a secret, only telling you all to have your school uniform ready. Some came to brunch already wearing it, but you and a few other girls go up to Chaewonâs room to change. It feels like being back in a locker room again, a bit awkward, a bit fun, teasing Yunjin for her matching black lace set on this seemingly innocuous day, comparing the stretch marks youâve obtained in the years since you last wore your uniforms.
Itâs definitely odd, seeing yourself in the mirror in that familiar short-sleeved white shirt and knee-length marine skirt. Despite how badly you wanted to grow out of Gimcheon, some things have remained the sameâthat much, youâre forced to admit to yourself when you head back to the living room and see Jaeyun in his old school uniform, a blast from the past. He watches you come down the stairs with a smile, and you wonder if heâs thinking the same things you areâthat youâve never stopped feeling like a teenager around him, and that no matter where you were in life, seeing him was enough to make your dull heart race.
His uniform still fits him okay, although itâs impossible not to notice how his arms and thighs strain against the fabric now, sleeves not quite reaching his wrists. Try hard as you might, your eyes drift to the way his button-up clings to his chest, and itâs clear he isnât oblivious to it. You swallow as you walk towards him, hands coming up to fix his tie like itâs second nature. âSeriously, Yun,â you mutter. âIt was cute when you were seventeen, but at twenty-eight, really?â
He only smirks down at you, making you more flustered than you already wereâand it doesnât help when everyone in the room oohâs at your gesture. You take a step back, but the damage has been done. Itâs like youâre in high school again, rolling your eyes at your friends when they ask if you and Jaeyun are finally dating, pretending like the mere thought doesnât have butterflies erupting in your stomach.Â
âI remember how Y/N used to fix his tie in front of the school gates every morning,â Chaewon says loudly, and you glare at her. âShe said she didnât want him to get scolded by teachers.â Everyone erupts in a chorus of so cute and I canât believe theyâre still not together and Iâm sure they used to have a crush on each other. She looks happy with herself, blissfully unaware of the chaos sheâs created for youâitâs been hard enough acting normally around Jaeyun this morning, you donât need the added spotlight.
He doesnât seem to share that sentiment, though. When he speaks, his voice cuts through the chatter. âMy dad taught me how to tie a tie before middle school. But I was running late once and she fixed it for me. I always messed it up on purpose after that.â He turns to you. Your jaw is slack, your heart a wild, frantic mess. âGuess that trick still works.â
This really is high school all over again. Your classmates act like theyâve witnessed the revelation of the century, cheering and clapping, the boys clasping Jaeyunâs shoulder like he just scored the winning goal. Chaewon squeals. Yunjin pretends to faint. Youâre rooted to your spot, too bewildered to react.
âSo you really did like her back then, didnât you?â Jeno asks, and everyone stops talking, awaiting Jaeyunâs answer with what seems like bated breathâyou included, as though he didnât tell you all about it last night.
He shrugs, but his grin, sheepish and bright at once, says it all. âIâll let you guys come to your own conclusions.â When he turns to look at you, despite the fact that you want to strangle him for putting you on the spot like this, you canât deny that his confession is a little bit â just a little bit â adorable. You think of fifteen-year-old Jaeyun looking at himself in the mirror, proud of himself for putting on his tie wrong, and you canât help but smile. Of course, this only makes your friends crazier, but Jaeyun, as if heâs suddenly decided this was enough attention, says, âIs everyone ready? Letâs head out now.â
Chaewon instructs you all to meet in your high school parking lot. On the drive over, Jaeyun apologizes, asking if what he did was too much.
âItâs okay,â you tell him. âEven if I was a little embarrassed.â
âI wasnât planning on doing anything like it, but seeing you in your uniform brought back memories, I guess,â he says, bashful. âI did say I would remind you of what I told you last night, didnât I?â
You shrug, smile down at your hands. âYou did. But itâs not like Iâd forgotten.â
He doesnât answer right awayâbut then, he suddenly looks over at you, and says, âYouâre really pretty.â
Your stomach flips. You look down at yourself to avoid his gaze as heat creeps up your face. âWhat are you sayingâŠâ you mutter.
âI never told you properly when we were in high school. So Iâm telling you now. I always thought you were the prettiest, Y/N.â
You fight it hard, but you canât bite back your smile. All you can do is hide your grin behind your fist, resting your elbow on the sill of the open window as you turn away from him. For only a brief second, as if spurred on by the confidence his compliment gave you, you change your mindâyou turn to him and abruptly say, âAnd I always thought you were the most handsome.â Then you whip back to the window and grin at the trees lining the road. But you feel his eyes on you, and when you look back at him, heâs staring at you, mouth agape. âYun! Look at the road!â you chide, laughing.
âSorry, sorry!â he exclaims, taking his eyes off you. âButâYouâSeriously?â
You canât believe it, how incredulous he sounds, how he seems as surprised as you felt last night. As you still feel now. âOf course,â you say quietly, feeling shy again.Â
Heâs quiet for a few seconds. Then, âSeriously?!â he repeats, louder, almost yelling.
âRelax,â you say, laughing at his enthusiasm. âItâs not like I was the only one. Half the girls in our class had a crush on you.â
âDid they?â he asks, a shit-eating grin on his lips. You roll your eyes.
âYou only received love letters, like, once a month.â
âBut never from the person I wanted to receive one from.â
You hold his gaze for a second. Then another, and anotherâbut you canât handle more than that. The way he looks at you, you feel too seen. Like he can read your every thought, like he can see your heart beating through your chest, your breath making its shaky way up your throat. It makes you too vulnerable, makes your desire to soak in his affection, to let him keep talking to you like this, too strong. Itâs a feeling too unfamiliar for you to accept yet.
You return to your spot, turned away from him, elbow on the windowsill. âWhatever,â you mumble.
But it seems like you admitting to having found him handsome when you were teenagers is all the confirmation he needs. Throughout the rest of the afternoon, he sticks close to your side. Since school is out for the summer, Chaewon asked Yunjin to convince her higher-ups to let your group have a ten-year high school reunion there. They agreed and got one of the janitors to act as your supervisor, as if you would damage or steal school property. In any case, he follows you around quietly while you and your classmates roam the old, familiar walls, reminiscing about all the stupid things you did, the gossip that felt like the most important thing in your lives at the time, the teachers you hated, the upperclassmen you crushed on. Mostly, you take loads and loads of pictures, reenacting memories, huddling together in front of the classroom door of your final year. Jaeyun always finds himself right behind you in the group pictures, his taller frame so close to yours you can feel his warmth.
He rests his hand on your shoulder for one of the photos, and your brain short-circuits at a touch that you wouldnât have thought about twice as a teenager. Sure, back then, Jaeyunâs touch made you feel giddy, but it was also the most natural thing in the world. Linking arms on the way home from school. Your head on his shoulder during a long bus ride. His fingers in your hair when you let him play around with it. He always said it was practice for his future daughter: âI want her to have the prettiest hairstyles in all of her school,â heâd say, as if she was already here. And youâd think to yourself, Heâll make such a great dad. And although he was someone you could tell anything to, for reasons you didnât like to think too much about at that time, this was something you kept to yourself. Now, you can hardly breathe from a hand on your shoulder. But now, you can also finally admit to yourself why that is.
And with every passing moment, every smile shared, every delicate touch of his hand to your arm, of your fingers brushing against each other, you think that maybe, just maybe, you might finally be able to admit to him why that is.
A while later, when everyone parts ways, heading home to get a few hours of rest before the big day tomorrow, Jaeyun asks you if you can hang back for a bit. Heâs so cute about it, so much like a schoolboy asking his crush out, that you canât turn him down despite the sleep you desperately need.
The soccer field by your school is surprisingly unoccupiedâeven at this time of year, when the school hallways are empty, there are usually teenagers playing here. You yourself used to spend entire afternoons here, chatting with Chaewon while the boys played soccer under the blazing sun. You remember pretending you werenât engrossed in the sweat beading on Jakeâs forehead or the way his cheeks turned crimson with the effort, and cheering for him whenever he scored a goal and turned towards you, yelling out âDid you see that?!â with that puppyish grin on his lips.
You remember the nights you spent here as well, the last summer before you left, when you and your friends wanted to drink without the adults seeing. Youâd lay side-by-side, looking up at the stars as you shared your dreams and fears for the future. If Jaeyunâs hand brushed against yours, youâd wait a few seconds, then move your hand to rest on your chest instead. You always wondered if he noticed it, the small touch, its removal. You know your hand burned with both.Â
He leads you to the soccer field now, his hand warm and gentle in yours, like heâs scared holding on too tight will scare you off. Heâs silent for a while, quietly bringing you down with him until youâre laying on the grass togetherâthis time, you keep his hand preciously in yours, even as your palms turn clammy, even as the memories of being here like this flood in.
The summer breeze has nearly lulled you to sleep when he speaks, his voice soft, careful not to startle you. âI hated the last day of school.â
You turn your head to look at him, but he keeps his eyes trained on the blue sky above. âOf course you did. You were such a nerd, you wouldâve stayed in school forever if you couldâve.â
He smiles, but he shakes his head. âNo, thatâs not it.â His tone is calm, full of significance, which you feel even more when he rests his steady gaze on yours. âIt meant time was running out. It meant Iâd spent five years liking you and still hadnât had the balls to tell you.â
You gulp. Youâre suddenly not in the mood to tease him at all. âOh,â is all you can manage to say.
He laughsâclearly, seeing you flustered is amusing to him. âYeah.â He props himself up on his elbow, gazing down at you in a way that sends your heart into a frenzy. âI got a little carried away last night,â he starts. âWhen Chaewon told me about her plans to dress in our school clothes and come here â yes, she told me before everyone else, donât look at me like that â Iâd planned to tell you today, I had a whole thing written out, but last night, you⊠I donât know, you were drunk so maybe I shouldnât have put so much weight to your words, but it sounded like you might like me back? And I couldnât stop myself. I had to tell you immediately. And today⊠Iâm not mistaken, right? You do like me?â
Tears prickle at your eyes. To think that this has been on his mind for so long, that youâre the reason behind the worried look on his face, that heâs the one asking for your confirmationâyou can hardly make sense of it all. If only youâd looked closer, if youâd been less scared, you mightâve been wearing this exact same outfit, laying in this exact same place, ten years earlier. This isnât to say that you arenât scared anymoreâyouâre terrified out of your wits. But looking into Jaeyunâs face, you donât need to search very long to find reassurance.
âI do, Yun. I really, really do.â
He only stares back at you for a few beats, as if waiting for you to change your mind, to tell him youâre joking. When you donât, his mouth breaks into a wide, radiant smile, and he lets himself fall on his back, hands coming up to hide his face.Â
Suddenly, you realize how real this is. How genuine Jaeyun is. It isnât a cruel prank heâs decided to play on you, but the truth of what he feels for you. For what must be the first time since last night, you let yourself react the way any sane person would upon finding out the person theyâve loved for years loves them back: youâre happy. Unbelievably, indescribably happy. And itâs terrifying when you know this happiness might be ripped from your hands at any momentâbut youâll worry about that later. Right now, all you see is the man laying next to you, his smile full of light, his sweet, glimmering eyes. A small tear escapes your eye at the same time as a chuckle leaves your throat.
He returns to his previous position, grinning down at you while he rests his upper body on his elbow. âOkay, this is totally cool. Iâm not freaking out at all,â he says, making you laugh. His smile widens. He picks a daisy from the ground, reaches for your hand. Tying the stem around your ring finger, he says, âI wanted to tell you this today, in our school uniforms, as a way to get justice for my teenager self. I know itâs silly, but I feel like Iâm only able to do this because he liked you so much.âÂ
But it isnât silly at all. Itâs the nicest, most romantic thing anyone has ever done for you.
He takes a deep breath, looks up from where your hand rests in his, to your eyes. âI love you, Y/N. Iâm sorry it took me so long to tell you. And I canât explain to you how happy I am that I still have a chance after all this time.â
Itâs not a singular tear rolling down your face anymore, itâs the whole waterworks threatening to explode the longer Jaeyun looks at you with those eyes, so tender and full of affection. You roll onto your side, resting your forehead against his shoulder so he canât see your faceâitâs enough that he can hear your sniffling, that he can feel your shoulders shake against him, especially as he wraps an arm around your waist to bring you closer. Your feelings overwhelm youâyou want to cry, to laugh, to hold him as tight as you can, to run away and stop him from witnessing how vulnerable he makes you. With his free hand, he pets your hair, saying he hopes these are happy tears.
âTheyâre very, very happy tears,â you reply between sobs. You probably sound ridiculous, but Jaeyun doesnât seem to mind, holding you through it all.
âGood,â he whispers.
Itâs a shame that it took you this long to realize you forgot something you shouldnât ever haveâthat people are the most important. Not relying on the ones you love doesnât make you strong, it makes you a fool.Â
Jaeyunâs presence is reassuring, familiar, and you picture a life in which you lean on his shoulder and cry when you need to. In which you hold him tight and share every moment with him, not just the happy ones. It sounds so much better than what youâve been doing for the past ten years. He smiles at you, and youâre flooded with the relief and gratitude that this is the life he wants, too.
For a while, he just holds you, the sun shining down on your bodies. This is what you were so fearful ofâJaeyunâs familiar scent enveloping you, his hand rubbing reassuring circles against your back, his hair soft in your hands. Eventually, he says, voice just loud enough for you to hear, âLater, will you talk to me? Will you tell me why you drifted from me?âÂ
Thereâs no anger in his tone, no admonition. Guilt still pangs in your stomach, but thatâs only because you know how badly he deserves an explanation, and because youâre amazed that even now, heâs so patient and understanding with you. âI will,â you reply.
You donât know how long you stay there, laughing at Jaeyunâs anecdotes of all the ways he tried to show you he liked you. All the times he ran home in the rain because you didnât bring an umbrella, all the fish cakes he sacrificed because they were your favorite part of tteokbokki, all the pocket money he spent on your favorite snacks.Â
âI thought about you so often once you left,â he says. âI worried so much. If you were eating well, if you were making new friends at university. Then if your job was treating you well. I wanted to call you all the time, but I didnât want to annoy you. I thought you were moving on, and that maybe I should too. But I never was able to.â
Youâre a little bashful as you tell him that you never did, either. âI compared all the guys I dated to you. And they were never as nice, as thoughtful, asââ
âAs handsome, as smart, as amazing as me, I get it, donât worry,â he teases, and you swat his shoulder lightly.Â
âObviously, but you donât need to be so smug about it.â
âIf youâre going to tell me none of your little boyfriends measured up to me, of course Iâm going to be smug about it, are you kidding me? This is the best news Iâve received in my life.â
You only realize how long youâve been lying there when your phone dings with a text from your aunt, asking whether youâll be home for dinner. Itâs almost seven p.m. alreadyâthe two of you spent three hours, just talking and laughing. He pouts a little when you tell him you should head home, but he obliges anyway.
When he drops you off at your auntâs house, he comes out of the car with you and hugs you tightly before you head inside. âThank you for this afternoon. Iâll see you tomorrow, yeah?â he says, lips moving against your hair.
You nod and, with a quick peck to his cheek, you bolt for your front door before he can react and try to do something crazy, like properly kiss you.
âWait, before you go,â he says as you grab the door handle. Turning around to look at him, breath catches, thinking heâs going to tell you something important, yet another thing that will change your lifeââCan you tell me about those lame dudes you dated again?â
You roll your eyes, biting back a smile. âGoodbye, Jaeyun.â
âYou love me!â
You smile at him, wide and unabashed.Â
Because you do love him. You really, really do.
.
.
You plop yourself on the couch next to your aunt, the latest Drag Race season playing on the TV. She hands you the bag of caramel popcorn and you grab a handful.Â
âI heard a car,â she says. âDid Jaeyun drop you off? Is that why youâre smiling so much?â
You only now notice the ache in your cheeks. âIâm not smiling that much,â you say, forcing your features into humorlessness, but the corners of your lips keep rising of their own volition.
âYouâre smiling a lot. More than you already usually do with him,â she says, giving you a knowing look.
You gape at her. âDonât tell me you knew too?â
âKnew what? That you and Jaeyun have liked each other since you were teenagers? I mightâve had an inkling, yeah.â
Her grin is wicked as you bury your face in your hands, groaning. âSo it really was everyone but him and me.â
âI think you knew,â she says, her tone gentle. âBut you didnât want to admit it to yourself. Especially in the last few months before you left, youâd always get a look about your face when I mentioned him. You never wanted to say you were sad to be leaving, but it was clear you were, if only because of him.â
You frown. âI was sad to leave you, too. And Chaewon, and Yunjin. And Mrs. Kim, because I knew I wouldnât find better tteokbokki anywhere else.â
She shrugs. âSure. But you were sad to leave Jaeyun in particular.â
You fidget with your hands, letting her words sink in. âAnd I have to leave him again in two days,â you whisper.
She wraps an arm around your shoulder, squeezes it slightly. âBut itâll be different this time around, right?â
DIfferent. Youâll call. Youâll make plans for him to come. Youâll let him into your life, into your heart. Youâll let him break down your walls, brick by brick.
âYeah. It will,â you say quietly, willing your worries to dissipate.
You meet her gaze, and she smiles. Jaeyun is only one of the many people youâve kept at bay for too long now.
âCome on,â she says, getting up from the couch. âIâm making meatball pasta, your favorite.â
âItâs your favorite.â
It was one of the few meals she made on rotation whenever she had time to cookâit is your favorite, only because eating it meant you were spending the evening together. You cut vegetables while she seasons the meat, telling each other about your day. Maybe itâs because youâre in such a wonderful mood from your afternoon with Jaeyun, but the atmosphere between the two of you feels particularly light-hearted today, which is why youâre so surprised when she suddenly tells you you should talk about âwhat happened last time.â Your stomach clenches, but you nodâyou knew it was going to happen sooner or later, so you might as well get over it quickly, and she seems to be of the same opinion.
âI know weâre both bad at this, so Iâll keep it short,â she starts, keeping her eyes on the preparation. You really are cut from the same clothâyou continue chopping carrots, glad to have something to do with your hands. âIâm sorry about those things I said. It was an emotional time for both of us, what with Jaeyunâs grandmother and all, but I shouldnât have let my emotions get the best of me. Itâs my fault we never talked about your parents. About your mom. I know you wouldâve liked to, but I never could. And you do remind me of her. Gosh, you look so much like her at your age. But you canât do anything about that, and what I said about looking at you and seeing her, that wasnât fair. It sounded like I blamed you, which is the last thing I wanted to do.
âShe always took care of me, because she was older than me by so many years, you know. She called herself my second mom. And all of a sudden, it felt like I had to take care of her. Itâs ironic, since my literal job is to take care of people, but I didnât know how to, with you.â
âI didnât make it easy. I barely talked to you,â you say quietly. Itâs true that you canât expect the same maturity from a teenager and a young adult, but thinking back on it, you canât help but think you couldâve been softer on your aunt. More understanding. You wanted her to replace your parents while resenting her for it. You made no effort at communication yet pushed her away every time she made an attempt to talk to you.
âYou were so young, and dealing with all that loss. I shouldâve tried harder, but you seemed so independent, spending all that time with your friends, making yourself dinner when I wasnât home. It felt like you didnât need me, and I have to admit, I was relieved. I was hanging on by a thread. I didnât know how I could take care of a whole other human being.â
Your breathing is shallow. You spent so many years struggling, each of you in your little corner, at armâs length from each other but too scared to reach out a hand.
âIt felt like you didnât want me around,â you whisper, head hanging low.Â
âOh, honey.â She drops her spoon and in a second has you wrapped in her arms, the tightest hug sheâs ever given you, tighter than when you first arrived at her house, tighter than when you first left. âIâm so, so sorry. I was so glad to have you here. Sure, it was a reminder that Iâd lost my sister, but you were a reason to keep going. I had to go to work so you could eat. I had to stay healthy enough to work. You were the only person on this planet that needed me. Iâm sorry I didnât do a better job of it, and that I didnât show you how much I needed you. How much I love you. But I promise that I never, ever wished you werenât with me.â
Itâs impossible to keep the tears at bay at this point. Tears start pouring down your face, and at the sight, her own tears quickly follow suitâyou sob in each other's arms, apologizing over and over again, and by the time youâre done, the meatballs are overcooked and yet the best youâve ever had.
Between Jaeyun this afternoon, and your aunt this evening, today has been a whirlwind of emotionsâwith Chaewonâs wedding tomorrow, youâll probably be drained on your flight back to the city. You have half a mind to take Monday off, just so you can rest from your holiday.Â
For now, youâll rest from today. Youâre exhausted, but it takes a while for sleep to claim youâyour mind is reeling, replaying Jaeyunâs words, the unspoken promises they contain. Your heart is still swelling with hope when you finally fall asleep.
.
.
It takes a few seconds for yesterdayâs events to come back to you after you wake up. It feels like reliving them all over againâJaeyunâs face next to yours on the soccer field, his hand in yours on the drive home, the conversation with your aunt that feels like one of many steps towards the right direction. And to think you dreaded this weekend for months before coming here.
When Jaeyun pulls up in front of your auntâs house, sheâs quicker than either of you, opening the door before heâs even reached it and inviting him in for coffee. You make a quick mental note of his outfit, a matching dark green suit and vest with a white button-up that fit him a little too well, the veins that run along his forearms down to his hands prominent and a debilitating sight if youâve ever seen one. Out of concern for your well-being you put that image immediately out of your headâyou really donât need to know how attractive Jaeyunâs hands are.
While youâre trying to gather yourself, with a wide smile, your aunt stares at him sipping his drink, eyes darting around the room awkwardly. Heâs always been a little nervous around her, which confused you back then, but endears you nowâbefore every party he picked you up for, heâd be overly polite, assuring her heâd get you home early and safe, standing with his back straight in your hallway as he waited for you like someone trying to impress their girlfriendâs father. Sheâd wave him off, telling you you could come home shit-faced at three a.m. as long as you were with âthis guy.â
Itâs so obvious that sheâs over-the-moon about him being her nephew-in-law. When he clears his throat, saying, âIâll take good care of Y/N, I hope you can trust me,â like this is the seventies and he needs to ask her for your hand, she laughs in his face.
âOh, Iâm not worried about you. Itâs her Iâm worried about.â
âAuntie?â
She ignores you, slides her elbows on the table towards Jaeyun in a conspiratorial manner. âListen. She can be very grumpy in the morningââ
âAuntie?!â
âAnd she overthinks everything, even if sheâll never let you know about it. She gets all these crazy ideas about people in her head, so just make sure to talk to her a lot so you know whatâs going on up there. Even if you have to force her.â
Youâre glaring at her by the time sheâs done, but Jaeyunâs delighted. âThank you for the advice. Iâll make sure to remember it.â
âGood. Now, off you two go. Iâll meet you tonight for the party,â she says with one last wink at you, unfazed by your I-will-murder-you expression as she gets up to put the empty mugs in the sink.
In the car, Jaeyun breaks the silence first. âSo, grumpy in the morning, huh?â
âOh my God,â you mutter, bringing a hand to your temple like your head aches. âI liked it better when you were terrified of her.â
Jaeyun laughs, reaching for your hand and resting it on your lap. âItâs okay. Iâll cheer you up every morning like my life depends on it.â You purse your lips to stop them from curving into a smile. It doesnât work. âPlus, I canât imagine youâd be grumpy waking up to this,â he says, pointing to his face.
You roll your eyes. âDonât be so sure of yourself,â you say as though you donât agree with himâseeing him first thing in the morning would surely do wonders for your mood, not just when you wake up, but for the entire day.
You know heâs only teasing you, but you have an unexpected problem to deal with now: thoughts of waking up to Sim Jaeyun, thoughts of being in a bed with Sim Jaeyun, thoughts of what usually happens when two people who love each other share a bed. You gulp. When you look over at him, thereâs only a serene smile on his lips. One day in, and youâre already getting carried away. Heâs probably not even thinking about such things, and you feel guilty about the dull ache in your stomach created by the pictures that your brain is conjuring.
When you arrive at the town hall, youâre greeted by your old friends, standing on the steps in their best clothes. The weather is perfect, the sun shining down warmly but a small breeze stops you from sweating your clothes off. Chaewon and Jaemin decided against staying cooped up in a small room before the ceremonyâthey thought itâd be much nicer to be there to greet their guests, and that getting to be around each other would prevent any last-minute nerves.
A little before eleven, Chaewonâs sister and Jaeminâs siblings, as the bridesmaids and groomsmen, start ushering everyone in. Once youâre seated inside and waiting for the ceremony to start, Jaeyun leans down towards you, and, quietly enough so only you hear him, whispers, âShould we hijack their wedding? They havenât been waiting as long as I have.â
You gasp at his words, lightly swatting his chest while he only grins at you, clearly satisfied with your reaction.
âIâm just kidding,â he says. âThis isnât how Iâm planning on proposing.â
âPlanning onâSim Jaeyun, be serious for a second.â
âWhat?â he asks, feigning an innocent tone even as mischief stays written on his features. âIâm very serious about propoââ
Who knows how his sentence ends, because his words are muffled by the hand you put over his mouth.
The ceremony is beautiful, presided over by Chaewonâs dad, who says that in all his years as mayor of Gimcheon, there isnât a marriage heâs been happier to officiate than todayâs. As Chaewon recites her vows, all you can see is your best friend at fifteen, crying because her favorite idol was embroiled in a dating scandal; at seventeen, making vision boards out of her momâs old wedding magazines; at twenty-two, giggling on the phone because, âDid you know Na Jaemin has had a serious glow-up since high school?â
At twenty-five, telling you she hopes youâll find the person who makes you as happy as Jaemin makes her.Â
Jaeyunâs hand stays in yours the entire time. You feel him glancing over you a few times, but youâre too scared that if you meet his eyes, youâll break down crying, and youâve done enough of that to last you a few weeks.
There are many pictures to be taken outside of the town hall, plus the bouquet toss â when Giselle catches it, Jenoâs face turns crimson â so itâs a while before you can all start heading to the cottage that Chaewonâs and Jaeminâs family have rented out for the occasion, for extended family and friends who couldnât be lodged at someoneâs house to stay in. For lunch, the caterer has prepared a large cold buffet with everything from thin slices of meat to charcuterie boards and three types of potato salad.
Itâs a really idyllic place theyâve chosen, especially in the middle of Julyâthe flowers are in full bloom, climbing cream and pink roses spilling over metal trellises, the scent of lavender bushes wafting delicately through the air. Chairs and tables covered in white drapes are neatly set around the garden and huge ribbons made of alabaster-colored gaze decorate a large oak tree.Â
You know from a phone call with Chaewon that as hands-on as she was with the wedding preparations, there was one thing that hadnât been up to her to organizeâthe afternoon activity, between lunch with family and close friends and dinner with a larger number of guests. Jaeminâs sisters had told her theyâd take care of it. âBut theyâre the kind of people who give people missions to do at parties,â she complained. âI once had to win at rock-paper-scissors with three total strangers.â
âBut no oneâs forcing you to participate,â you said.
âIt was a question of pride,â she replied, firm. âI had to make a good impression.â
You can see the relief flood over Chaewonâs features when they announce that theyâve planned a scavenger hunt for this afternoon, and that those who donât wish to partake can hang back and have a rest. The groups are assigned randomly, so youâre separated from Jaeyun, but your teammates are friendlyâJaeminâs great-aunt and Chaewon seven-year-old little cousin make for a surprisingly comedic duo, and you and Giselle, who you can confirm once and for all is much cooler than her boyfriend Jeno, spend the whole time cracking up at their antics.
Jaeminâs sisters have created a list of clues to guide you to different places around the venue, where you need to complete little tasksâeach team starts out with a different clue, and is guided around by the new clues they find at each spot. In the guest book by the entrance, you each describe a memory you share with the bride or groom; by the lily pond, the four of you take a polaroid picture as a keepsake for the newlyweds; behind the bar, thereâs a corkboard on which you can tack heart-shaped pieces of paper and write down your predictions for their marriage. You write down that theyâll have 3 under 3, and Chaewonâs cousin writes that theyâll get to drink milkshakes for breakfastâwhen you ask him what thatâs about, he says that his mom said only adults are allowed milkshakes for breakfast, âand adults are usually married, so maybe thatâs what theyâll do.â
You arrive in fifth place, so you only win a piece of candy eachâbut when you find Jaeyun again, he tells you gloatingly that heâll share his third-place box of chocolates with you. Slowly after that, more guests start arriving, including your aunt. The main room opens up, and you see just how much effort Chaewon has put into all of thisâitâs straight from her Pinterest board, with white roses in the center of every table, tulle curtains draped over the windows, and fairy lights adorning the walls. Candied almonds in small white bags, with a tag that reads C+J, rest on every plate as gifts for the guests. The cottage was the perfect choice for the reception, with its wooden panels that contrast against the cream-colored decorations. Theyâve hired Beomgyu, an old high school friend of yours, as their DJ, and for now, as heâs setting up his station, a relaxed R&B playlist drifts quietly through the speakers.
Youâre seated between Yunjin and Jaeyun. You mingle at first, champagne glass in hand as you catch up with Chaewonâs mom, at whose house you spent so many of your teenage hours. She has stars in her eyes, telling you how happy she is for your daughter, and when she asks whether thereâs a lucky man in your life, you canât help but glance at Jaeyun, whoâs talking with Mrs. Lee, one of his old elementary school teachers, Chaewonâs colleague now. She follows your gaze and exclaims in delight. âChaewon always said you two would end up together! Well, better late than never,â she says with a wink. Someone calls her name then, and youâre left to process her words.
Considering Yunjin and your aunt had you figured it out, it isnât so surprising that Chaewon wouldâve long been aware of your and Jaeyunâs feelings for each otherâwhatâs taking you aback is the fact she never said anything. She teased you just as much as your classmates did, and she did ask you a couple of times if you really didnât feel anything for him (which you always adamantly declined, and you understand now that that mustâve only made her only more suspicious of you), but she never pushed any further. Her words from a few days earlier suddenly come back to youââI promise you someone is out there. Maybe closer than you think.â
You make a mental note to find a minute alone with her tonight, and congratulate her for being much smarter and perceptive than you ever were.
The appetizers start rolling outâJaeyun is still so engrossed in his conversation with Mrs. Lee that you go ahead and make him a plate with a little bit of everything. When you hand it to him, he looks at you like youâve just handed him a million bucks. After you go back to your seat, you often feel him or Mrs. Lee glancing your way, and you have an inkling of what they might be talking about.
Before the main course, the parents give their speeches togetherâJaeminâs share embarrassing anecdotes of their son and thank Chaewon for taking him off their hands; Chaewonâs mom is so emotional throughout her speech that her husband has to take over her parts.Â
The atmosphere at your table during dinner is great, and itâs very entertaining to see the champagne start to get to everyoneâs headsâyouâve only had a couple glasses, and Jaeyun is driving later, so youâre both sober watching your friends exaggerate everything they say and laugh over nothing much. When youâre done eating, his hand often finds yours underneath the table, and it never fails to make your insides feel pleasantly warm.Â
After dinner, the music suddenly shuts off for a few seconds, before Canât Help Falling In Love by Elvis Presley, the song for Chaewonâs parentsâ first dance at their own wedding, which she wanted to turn into a tradition. Everyone watches the couple gently swaying around the dance floor. They look at each other as though they are the only people in this entire room; on this entire planet. After a minute, other couples start joining them; when Jaeyun stands up and offers you his hand, you donât even hesitate for a second.
You feel a little shy, standing before him and looking into his eyes, so you rest your head on his chest instead, letting him hold you close to him and guide you around the dance floor, one arm around your waist, holding your hand in his free one.
âThank you for waiting for me,â you say, lifting your face a little so he can hear you.
He bends down towards you, his lips grazing your forehead as he speaks. âThank you, too, angel.â The nickname is unexpected, and makes your heart skip a beat. When he presses his lips to the top of your head, you think that if this wasnât your best friendâs wedding, you might be debating the ethics of leaving before dessertâs been served. âI promise Iâll make you happy,â he whispers.
âYou already are.â You wish you could live in the way he gazes down at you, eyes warm and full of adoration. âYou make me feel like a teenager. Like Iâm still the sixteen-year-old who got giddy at the thought of seeing you at school every morning.â
âIs that right?â he asks, smile turning a little smug. You like nervous, bashful Jaeyun betterâthis Jaeyun, the intensity of his gaze as it trails down your face until it reaches your lips, the feeling of his thumb roving across your waist, makes you want to curl up and hide your face in the crook of his neck. He makes your knees weak and your breath shaky.
You stop yourself from looking away, eyes set on his as you nod your head.
âThatâs funny, because Iâm very aware that weâre not teenagers anymore,â he says.
You donât ask what he means by that, and he doesnât offer an explanation, so youâre left to ponder his words on your ownâalthough the tone with which he spoke, teasing and enticing, canât leave you with much room for interpretation.
But just as your eyes drift down to his lips, and you swear he leans a fraction of the way in, the song is over. You step back from him a second after every couple has separated, turning towards the newlyweds and clapping for them.Â
Itâs back to 2010s pop after that, and he doesnât let you go back to your seatâthe rest of your friends quickly join you anyway, and even you canât say no to jumping around and screaming the lyrics when itâs Lady Gaga and Black Eyed Peas playing. Jaeyun makes you spin around, his hands firm on your hips during more sensual songs, his worst (or best, if you ask him) moves on display whenever a song calls for it, and you canât stop laughing.Â
You need a large drink of water eventually, and take the opportunity to look for Chaewon. You find her at the dessert buffet, stacking mini brownies on her plate. She looks startled when you call her name. âThese arenât all for me,â she says quickly.
âIâm not judging,â you say, smiling.
âOkay, good, âcause theyâre definitely all for me. I barely ate all night âcause I was so nervous and Iâm famished now.â
You laugh and get a plate, filling it with more food for her before leading her to your presently unoccupied table. âThank you,â she says with an exaggerated sigh as she plops down on Yunjinâs chair. âI love my family, but theyâve been taking up all of my attention. I just wanna come dance with you guys.â
âWeâll join them in a bit. Can I just tell you something first?â
She tilts her head at you, her smile like she already knows what youâre about to say. âOf course. And,â she says, taking your hands in hers, âIâve got something to ask you, too. But you go first.â
You surprise yourself with how easily the words come to youâno hesitation over how to phrase it, no nervousness. They feel so natural, rolling off your tongue. âMe and Jaeyun are together.â
She squeals, immediately throwing her arms around you. âI knew it! Finally! It took you guys so long, I was so close to intervening and playing Cupid myself. Oh, Y/N!â she exclaims, bringing you into another hug, not letting you place a word. âLove is in the air. You know, I think knowing Jae and I were getting married mightâve been the trigger for Jaeyun. When he told me he wanted to confess to you over this weekend, I was ecstatic. You can basically thank me for having a boyfriend.â
You laugh. âThank you, Chaewon. Youâve known all along, havenât you?âÂ
She nods proudly. âIt was always so obvious. Jaeyun told me a few months after high school ended, but youââ She points an accusing finger at you. âYou never did! But you tried too hard to pretend like you were indifferent when I mentioned him on the phone.â
You look down at the floor, feeling a little guilty, a little shy. âI could barely admit it to myself, let alone to anyone else. And I was so, so scared, Chae. Even nowâŠâ You look longingly over at the dance floor, where Jaeyun is clearly having the time of his life, throwing his limbs around with Heeseung and Jenoâwhen he meets your eyes, he waves happily, then returns to what seems to be an attempt at the robot. You sigh. âItâs not like I change my ways overnight, can I? Being so far from him, I donât knowâŠâ
âDonât think about that right now,â Chaewon says, commanding your attention back to her. âJust enjoy it. Itâs what both of you deserve. When you run into a problem, youâll figure it out together. Heâs waited this long, I promise you itâs not a little distance thatâll drive him away now.â
You nod. âOkay. Youâre right.â
âOf course I am. Now, I have some news to share too. And itâs our secret, okay?â
Excited, you shift forward on your chair, inching closer to her. âOkay.â
She gazes downward with a smile, lets go of one of your hands to rest on her stomach. Your mouth falls open, and when she looks back up at you, her eyes shiny, you immediately feel yours start to burn. âIf you say yes, Y/N, youâll be a godmother soon.â
âOh my God, Chae,â you whisper, tears already pooling in your eyes.
She giggles. âJaeyunâs already agreed to be the godfather, so it only makes more sense now, doesnât it? And yes, before you ask, Iâm absolutely using my unborn child as emotional blackmail to get you to call and visit more often. And Iâll be coming to see you in the city and make you take me around cute baby shops and buy me all the food I want.
âOh my God, Chae. Youâre having a whole baby,â you whisper, incredulous. Your heads lean in towards each other, almost bumping as you laugh.
âI know, right? We wanted to wait until our honeymoon was over to start trying, but⊠Well, Iâll spare you the details, but weâve never gone at it so much since getting engagedââ
âAlright.â
âSo, what do you say?â she asks, a hopeful expression on her face.
You squeeze her hands. âHow could I say anything but yes? Of course Iâll be your kidâs godmother. Iâm so honored that youâre asking me, when I havenât been an ideal friend.â
She shakes her head. âDonât. We understand you, Y/N, more than I think you give us credit for. And I trust you to make up for it now, okay?â
You nod, tears freely streaming down your cheeks now. âI will. I absolutely will. I love you so much, Chae. Iâm so happy for you.â
Her laugh is the prettiest sound to your ears. âI love you too, Y/N.â
She leans back, takes a deep breath as she wipes her tears. âIs my makeup okay?â When you nod, she gets up and says, âOkay. To the dance floor!â
Now that theyâve gone through every step and are reassured that their wedding couldnât have gone more smoothly, Jaemin and Chaewon let it all out on the dance floor. What starts out as a pretty big crowd, a large portion of the guests up and dancing, fizzles out as the hour grows late. The more elderly relatives have long retired, and it isnât long before the older adults leave, too, finding their children asleep on random chairs and dragging them out of the venue. Soon, the population on the dance floor is more or less constituted of your high school friends and Chaewonâs and Jaeminâs cousins of your age. When Beomgyu starts to play slower songs around the three a.m. mark, you canât believe itâs this late already. You were having so much fun you had no idea so much time had passed.
The catering crew has cleared the tables and packed away all their silver- and dinnerware, and your friends, in their drunken state, offer to wipe the floors and take the decorations down, but Chaewon and Jaemin shoo them off, assuring them that theyâll be taking care of it with their families in the morning.
You have to admit, now that the energyâs gone down, you start to feel yourself ready for bed, your feet aching from overuse, even though you took your high heels off hours ago to dance with more ease. It doesnât help that Jaeyun stays right behind you as everyone starts heading off, his hand low and casual on your hip as you wave them all goodbye and promise to stay in touch. He only hangs back when you have to say goodbye to Chaewonâyour flight is around noon tomorrow, so you wonât have time to see her again.
Hugging her tight, you tell her again how beautiful she looked tonight and how happy you are for her. You wish her and Jaemin a happy honeymoon, and she winks back, telling you to have fun, too. âBut safe fun!â she yells as you and Jaeyun start making your way to his car. âI love you but youâre not stealing my babyâs spotlight!â
Jaeyun is still laughing as he gets in the driverâs seat, while youâre flooded with embarrassment. âSo she told you, then?â he asks.
âYeah.â
âWeâre gonna be godparents,â he says, grinning. âSome might say weâre moving a little fast, but I think itâs right.â
Youâre smiling impossibly wide. âYouâre stupid.â
âAnd youâre pretty,â he replies, brushing his knuckle along your jaw. Itâs an innocent touch, but just like that, the dull ache in your stomach reappearsâmaybe itâs his proximity all night, all tension and no release, or the fact that itâs the two of you in pure darkness on this late night road, or Chaewonâs comment ringing in your head, but you suddenly find yourself craving for a lot more than an innocent touch. As though he can read your mind, Jaeyun clears his throat. âDo you, um, do you want to go back to mine?â he asks, eyes going back-and-forth between you and the road as though not wanting to miss your reaction.
âYeah,â you whisper. The air conditioning is on full blast, yet your skin is on fire. âYeah. Iâd like that.â
âOkay.â
Youâre silent for the rest of the car ride, mind racing with possibility. Jaeyunâs hand trembles ever so slightly in yours, like he can barely restrain himself, and you agree that the twenty minutes to his apartment are the longest youâve ever had to endure. You play with his fingers, hoping the gesture will be calming to both of you, but the feeling of his skin against yours only makes your heart race faster.
His apartment is on the first floor of a small building in the center of Gimcheon. He leads you up the stairs, fingers intertwined with yours, only letting go to open his door. âLayla will be excited to meet you,â he says as he turns the keyâindeed, youâre greeted warmly by the cream-colored Border Collie. She seems much happier to meet someone new than to see her boring old owner, who notices this with a frown, huffing something about âbetrayalâ and âyour own kidsâŠâ as Layla licks your hands and presents her belly for pets.
âI should probably walk her quickly, she hasnât been out since this morning,â Jaeyun says, an endeared smile on his face as he watches the two of you get acquainted.
âShould I come with?â
Crouching beside you, he shakes his head. âI know youâre tired, angel. Iâll just be ten minutes, you can wash up in the meantime.â
You follow him into the bathroom, where he hands you a towel and tells you to help yourself to anything you need. âWait here a minute,â he says, then disappears into his bedroom, coming back with clean clothes for you to wear. Heâs sheepish as he rests them on the sink counter, a small smile playing on his lips. âHere. They might be a bit big, but more comfortable than your dress.â
âThanks, Yun.â
âNo worries.â He hesitates for a second, then presses a quick kiss to your temple. âIâll be quick.â
Even after he leaves, the smile on your lips is wide and unwavering, your heartbeat fast, your fingers twitchy and impatient. You find lotion to wipe your makeup off with, and have far too much fun analyzing all of his shower products as the hot water runs over your body. You can hardly keep your giddiness in check at the thought of washing yourself with Jaeyunâs soap, drying yourself with his towel, then wearing his clothes and finding yourself enveloped with the delicate floral scent of his laundry detergent. He gave you a navy t-shirt with the logo of his familyâs business on the front and a pair of basketball shorts that reach your knees, and that you have to tie very tightly at your hips so it stays up. You canât help but admire yourself in the mirror, for some reason feeling more like a girlfriend than ever before in your life.
When you hear the front door open, you come out to meet him in his living room. As Layla trots over to her bed, he stops for a second when he sees you, mouth slightly agape as his eyes rake your body. You feel shy under his gaze, but surprise yourself by also revelling in the attention, in the way his desire is so evident in his gaze, in the smirk that grows on his lips as he crosses the distance to you.
âNice walk?â you ask.
âYeah. You look good,â he says, hands finding your hips, shameless in the way he looks down at you now.
In the shower, you were so preoccupied with simply being here that you didnât spare a thought for what would happen nextânow, under the intensity of Jaeyunâs gaze and the effect of his proximity, you feel unprepared, completely at a loss for what to do with yourself.
Itâs lucky for you that Jaeyun, on the other hand, seems to know exactly what he wants to do with you.
âCan I kiss you?â he asks, voice low and gravelly unlike youâve ever heard it before, and it sends shivers down your spines. You donât trust your voice to work properly, so you nod your assent instead.
Seconds pass like eternity between his question and the moment his lips actually touch your lips. One of his hands leaves your hips to find your chin instead, raising it a little with his thumb so your face is perfectly angled towards his. His touch is gentle, more of a request than a demand, and you crave to melt into it, to let him lead you wherever he wants you.
His lips meet yours, delicate and cautious, like he doesnât want to scare you off. They move languidly against each other, giving you the time you need to adapt to this without being overwhelmed. You raise your arms and wrap them around his neck while his hand sneaks its way to your lower back, pushing you gently closer towards him, your chest now flush to his. Fire courses through your veins as his tongue meets yours, deepening the kiss and making your thoughts hazy, incoherent, unimportant.
You never dreamed it would be this easy. One kiss, and itâs like a faucetâs opened up inside you, all the desire and want and longing that youâve kept trapped inside pouring out of you boundlessly. You wouldnât know how to control it if you had toâand thankfully, Jaeyun doesnât seem to want you to. He meets you right where you are, holding onto you just as tightly as you are onto him, moaning shamelessly when your fingers tug sharply at his hair, his head thrown back as you pepper his throat with wet, messy kisses.Â
His mouth doesnât leave yours as he walks you to his bedroom. Only when he sits down on his bed do you get a glimpse of his expressionâthe lust-blown pupils, the reddened cheeks, the lips plump and shiny with saliva. His hands are practically on your ass as he brings you down towards him, helping you into a straddling position on his lap. He presses kisses to your cheek, your jawline, then, resting his forehead against yours, asks with a throaty voice, âYouâre okay with this?â
You smile, wrap your arms tighter around his neck. âIâm definitely okay with this.â
âGood,â he replies, then wastes no time pressing his lips back to yours.
Years of repressed feelings come out in this kissâthat much is clear in its desperation, in the way you both grab onto whatever parts of the other you can reach, like you want to tether yourselves to each other. When you break apart for air, Jaeyun whispers in your ear how long heâs wanted to do this, lips brushing against your skin as he speaks, making you shake lightly in his hold. The longer you kiss, the weaker the resistance in your thighs grows, and you soon find yourself sitting right on his lap, his bulge hard and demanding attention beneath you. His grip on your hips tightens, but itâs the only sign he gives you of being affectedâonly when you roll your hips experimentally against his does he let out a loud moan right into your mouth, which you take as a green light to keep going.Â
You push him down onto the mattress, practically laying on top of him as you grind yourself against him, a small whimper leaving your throat every time his erection rubs perfectly against your clit through your shared layers of clothing. Heâs still wearing his wedding outfit, and when his hands leave your body to unbutton his shirt, you waste no time in helping him, untucking his shirt from his trousers, unbuckling his belt. He chuckles at your eagerness, but you canât bring yourself to feel even a little embarrassedâyou donât think youâve ever desired anything this badly, and itâs messing with your head. Jaeyun looks at you like he could eat you right up, so you decide thereâs no use in hiding your appetite from him.
His hands slip underneath your t-shirt, and your skin blazes with the heat of his touch. They trail up your sides, nails briefly grazing your waist and back before they find your breasts. He gently rubs one of your nipples between his fingers, and Jaeyun curses when you release a moan in the crook of his neck, pressing your crotch against his with more urgency than before. âDoes that feel good, baby?â he asks, voice breathy as you squirm under his touch.
âYes, Yun.â
He hums in satisfaction, one hand on your ass to guide your movements against him, the other alternating between your breasts to pay them equal attention, lips never relenting in their quest to leave no inch of your neck unkissed.Â
Itâs too much and too little at once. A familiar coil tightens in your stomach, and you canât believe youâre already this close to coming undone from thisâevery man youâve slept with before has had to put in a lot more work to get you even near the edge. But with Jaeyun, all it takes is a few minutes of heavy petting and his voice in your ears, telling you how well youâre doing for him, how pretty you look using him to get yourself off.
âThatâs it, baby,â he coos as your moans get louder, your movements more erratic. âIâve got you. Let it go for me.â Itâs all you need for your orgasm to wash over you and leave you a trembling mess in his arms, his hold around your waist tight as he kisses your temple and shushes you gently.Â
When youâve calmed down somewhat, he helps you onto your back, shifting so that your head rests on his pillows. Now that youâve regained your senses, the reality of what youâve done, what youâre doing hits you. Resting on his elbow, Jaeyun gazes down at you fondly, and although you wouldâve reveled in it mere moments ago, the intensity of his attention now only brings heat to your face. You canât quite meet his eyes, a small, bashful smile playing on your lips as you play with the lapels of shirt collar. He must sense this shift in your demeanor, and asks, âDo you wanna keep going?â
Lust pangs low in your stomach. You force yourself to look into his eyes, giving him an almost imperceptible nod. His desire is so obvious on him, and truth be told, you hadnât even thought you might stop here when he still needs taking care of. The smile on his lips grows, but when you reach out to touch his erection, he tilts his head, grabbing your wrist and laying it back down next to your body. âI didnât say I was done with you, baby,â he purrs, leaning down to kiss your neck, one hand slipping under your t-shirt again.Â
âButââ
âIâve waited so long, angel. Dreamed about having you like this so many times. So be patient and give me this much, hm?â
You release a shaky breath. How can you say no when he makes it sound like letting him make you feel good is doing him a favor, and not you? âOkay.â
âThank you, angel. Help me with this?â he asks gently, lifting his t-shirt youâre wearing over your head. Youâd feel shy at lying half-naked underneath him if it wasnât for the way he admired you, like an art lover in front of their favorite painting. âSo fucking perfect,â he mutters, leaving a trail of kisses down your throat until he reaches your breasts. âCanât believe youâve been keeping this from me all this time.â
âIâm sorry, Yun.â Youâre already squirming at this touch, body screaming for more than the feather-like kisses he presses to your skin.
âNo, no, baby. Donât apologize. Iâd do it all over again, knowing Iâd get to see you like this in the end. So perfect,â he repeats, and before you can reply, he wraps his lips around your nipple, tongue darting out to lick at the sensitive bud. Your back arches off his bed, but with a firm hand to your stomach, he stops you from writhing away from his touch.Â
He seems to be content with doing this for minutes on end, lips alternating between your nipples, fingers tending to the neglected one, teeth sometimes gently nibbling at your skin, leaving behind small marks on the sides of your breasts. âThere, now you canât forget me,â he says with a self-satisfied smirk when he leans back to admire his work.
âAs if I could,â you whisper back, hands finding purchase in his hair as you bring him back towards you and kiss him.
But soon enough, another part of your body starts burning from lack of attention, but even as you buck your hips towards him to signal what you need, he doesnât noticeâor doesnât care. âYunâŠâ you eventually whine, hoping heâll understand what it is you want from this one word.
âWhatâs wrong, baby? You need something?â he asks, faking an innocent tone.
So he does knowâhe just doesnât want to give it to you so easily. Itâs too bad for you that youâre famously bad at asking for what you need.
You opt instead for grabbing his hand and leading it down to your coreâsurely, thatâs enough of a message. He cups you over your shorts, and your thighs clasp around his wrist, instinctively attempting to create more friction. His hand slips below your waistband, and he groans, forehead falling against your shoulder, when he finds your lack of underwear there. He has direct access to your folds, and he wastes no time sliding two of his fingers there, humming in appreciation. âSo wet,â he mumbles, seemingly more to himself than to you.Â
âPlease, Yun,â you plead, voice almost a winceâand it is in a way painful, having him so close to where you need.
âIâm here, angel. Iâll give you what you want.â And indeed, the next second, the pads of his fingers are on your clit, rubbing torturously slow circles onto it. On the pillow, your head falls to the side in your search for more proximity with himâyou feel his laboured breathing against your face, and you shift your body closer to him, worming one of your legs between his. As though this is getting to his head as much as yours, heâs silent for a while, his fingers gathering speed on your clit, occasionally sliding down your folds and inside of you. They go so much deeper than yours can, brushing against that spot that has your nails digging into his skin. But as he brings you closer and closer to the edge, you find yourself not wanting to fall right away, at least not like this.
âYunâŠâ you breathe out, wrapping your fingers around his wrist. He stops immediately, raising his head to look at you with unnecessary concern, making your heart soften for him.
âAre you okay? Did I hurt you?â
âNo, no, I justâŠâ
You squirm uncomfortably beneath him, and his expression shiftsâdamn him for understanding so quickly what youâre too shy to say. âYou justâŠâ he trails, smug. Resuming his kisses along your throat, he says, âTell me, baby.â
âYou know,â you huff. He laughs against your skin, and even in your annoyance, the melodic sound makes your heart skip a beat.
âHm, but Iâd rather you tell me.â
You hesitate for a few seconds. Your hand finds his bulge again, and this time, he doesnât stop you. You know he wants this as badly as you do, but if telling him is what he needs, then youâll have to comply. âI needâI wantâI want to come on your dick, Jaeyun, please,â you say, forcing out the words as quickly as you can, face burning in embarrassment.
He freezes. You hear his breathing get louder, more rugged, and itâs a few seconds before he raises himself onto his elbows, fingers at your waistband, dragging your shorts down. The smugness has all but left his features, leaving behind something like sternnessâfurrowed eyebrows, dark eyes, tight jaw. As he lifts over his head the white sleeveless tee he was wearing beneath his button-up, your hands make clumsy work of his trousers, pulling them down his thighs along with his underwear. His cock springs free, tip an angry-looking red, already leaking precum, and you wonder at the self-restraint he mustâve been exercising this entire timeâitâs clearly stronger than yours.Â
You wrap a hand around the base, transfixed by the sight, and he groans. You pump him a few times, reveling in the small moans that leave his mouth, muffled in the crook of your neck, and in the way his fingers dig into the skin of your hips. He doesnât let it go on for very long, soon leaning away from you and towards his bedside table. âLet me get a condom, baby,â he says, voice shaky.Â
âIâm on the pill. You donât need to wear one.â His head snaps back towards you, eyes wide like a kid on Christmas day.
âAre you sure?â he asks, but heâs already coming back towards you, elbows on each side of your face, peppering the side of your face with kisses.
You wrap your hand around his dick again, letting his tip graze your clit before lining it with your entrance. âYeah, I am.â
He releases a shaky breath, finding your hand and intertwining his fingers with yours before he finally pushes inside of you, slowly filling you up until he bottoms out. Slick from your previous orgasm and relaxed from his fingers, you accommodate him easily, only needing a few seconds before youâre already bucking up your hips against him, asking for more. For once, Jaeyun doesnât tease youâhe obliges instantly, pushing into you with slow, precise thrusts that have the coil tightening again in your stomach with embarrassing quickness. It doesnât help that Jaeyun groans right into your ear, whispering curses, muttering about how good you feel around him, âLike you were made for me, baby.â
His free hand slides beneath your thigh and lifts it up to rest it against his hipâthis new angle allows him to go deeper, to hit that sensitive spot with every one of his thrusts. As his movements gather speed, you feel yourself inching closer and closer to your orgasm, and when it finally hits, your nails dig into the skin of his bicep, you throw your head back, and you let the pleasure wash over you, your brain going haywire, a loud moan escaping your mouth.
Jaeyun takes the opportunity to latch his lips to your throat, biting and sucking at the skin there, surely leaving yet another mark for you to find in the morning. Youâre holding onto him like you might float away if you donât, thighs shaking as overstimulation starts to set inâand yet, when he asks with a low, gruff voice whether you can handle some more, you find yourself nodding vigorously, ready to take whatever he gives you.
âThatâs my girl.â
He slips out of you and you whine at the loss. But he quickly fills you up again, first turning you onto your side as he spoons you from behind, lifting your thigh to grant him better access and pushing into you again with no hesitation. In this position, heâs able to snake an arm around you and play with your clit, making you throw your head back against his shoulder. His pace is gentle at first, as are the kisses he presses to the side of your neck and to your shoulder as he lets you adjust to this new, deeper angle. But it doesnât take long for his rhythm to quicken as he seems to be nearing release himselfâhis thrusts get sloppier, harsher, the sounds he makes more desperate.
You didnât think itâd be possible, but between his fingers on your clit, his dick deep inside you, and his filthy words in your ears, a chasm opens within you once more and you find yourself barrelling towards it at alarming speed. With a few final hard thrusts and the feeling of Jaeyunâs release filling you to the brim, you come undone for the third time tonight, your throat tight and scratchy from moaning so much.
Jaeyun stills inside of you. Without sliding out, he wraps an arm around your middle and brings you closer to him, his hold tight and reassuring. His chest is flush against your back and you feel it rise and fall with each of his breaths; your breathing slowly evens out, eventually matching the rhythm of his. With his fingertips, he draws unintelligible patterns across the skin of your stomach and waist. Tiredness makes your limbs heavy like they could sink right into his mattress. You must be mere seconds away from sleep when you feel him slip out of you. You roll onto your back as he grabs a tissue from his bedside table, cleaning you up gently as he presses a kiss to your temple. âHow do you feel?â he asks. âDo you need anything? Some water? A shower?â
You rest an arm around his waist and wiggle closer to him. âJust you,â you say.
âI can give you that. Easy,â he says, the smile audible in his voice.
.
.
You wake up a few times during the night, unaccustomed to sharing a bed with someone elseâand not just anyone at that, but Jaeyun, whose warm body you find yourself shifting closer to whenever you regain half-consciousness and realize youâre not in his arms anymore. He barely rouses as you nuzzle your face in his neck, an arm coming up to circle your waist to accommodate your body against his. You wish nothing more than to stay like this forever, but unfortunately, your faithful alarm clock rings at nine a.m. and as you reach for your phone to turn it off, Jaeyunâs loose hold on you tightens.
âDonât go yet,â he mumbles, voice muffled against your hair, and his gravelly morning voice sends a shiver right down your spine.
You smile. âIâm not. I can stay ten minutes longer.â
He whines, pulls you in closer to him. Goosebumps appear where his fingers slightly dig into your skin. âThatâs not long enoughâŠâ
âI canât miss my flight, Yun.â
âSure you can,â he says casually, and as he starts to press kisses to your neck, you almost think he might be right. âYou can catch a later one. You can go home next week.â
You hum, lifting your head to grant him better access to your throat, shivering when his teeth graze your sensitive skin. âMy boss might have something to say about that.â
Rolling you onto your back, he drops his forehead on your shoulder with a dramatic sigh. âTen minutes, you said?â he asks, with a roll of his hips so small it could be seen as accidental. But with the way his erection presses into you, thick and firm, you have an inkling it was anything but.
âFifteen if you drive fast,â you say, already starting to get out-of-breath.
âThatâs plenty.â
Neither of you bothered to put on clothes again last night, so he easily slides two fingers between your folds, gathering your slick and trailing them upwards until they reach your clit. He seems satisfied with the wetness he finds there, quickly shifting to fill you up with his dick rather than his fingers. And indeed, fifteen minutes are plentyâin the time it takes for your alarm to ring again, heâs made you come twice, his thrusts deep and precise as though he has a knowledge of your body that dates back years and not a mere day. He releases inside of you with a groan.
It does suck, having to leave so quickly. You wish you could lay in bed with him for hours, take a shower so long it has negative environmental impacts, and have a late, hearty breakfast with him. Unfortunately, you have to speed through everythingâyou need to be at the airport at eleven at the latest, and having not foreseen you wouldnât be spending the night at your aunt, you didnât finish packing before the wedding. He seems to be as aware of this as you are, and although he keeps a smile on his lips at all times, you can see your sadness reflected in his eyes at the thought of having to say goodbye, so soon after finally opening up to each other.
But in a way, you find goodbye easier this time around. As you hug your aunt and thank her for letting you stay â at which she scoffs, saying this will always be as much your house as it is hers â youâre armed with the knowledge that youâre on good terms now, and that youâre not going back to another three years of near radio silence. Itâs not an empty promise that you make her when you tell her youâll be in touch.
Youâve never seen Jaeyun as talkative as on the drive to the airport. He blabbers away, filling every second of silence like his life depends on itâyou donât help him, quiet as can be out of fear of breaking into sobs in the middle of any given sentence. You remind yourself that this goodbye is only temporary, that youâll soon make plans for him to visit, but still, your eyes burn at the thought of going home to an empty apartment and falling asleep in a half-empty bed tonight. He must sense this because he eventually tells you, voice soft and vulnerable, âDonât cry, baby.â
You purse your lips to stop them from trembling, turning away from him so he canât see your frown. âI feel like I already miss you,â you say, so low you wonder if he can even hear you.
âIâll come see you soon. And Iâll text and call you so often every day that you wonât have time to miss me,â he replies, but you can hear it in his tone that he doesnât quite believe what heâs saying, only trying to reassure you, and himself, maybe.
âThatâs impossible,â you mutter. Youâre both silent for the rest of the drive, but his hand in yours is warm, and it does more to comfort you than any words could.Â
He parks at the airport drop-off area and gets your suitcase out of the trunk for you. He wanted to park where he could leave his car longer, and go into the airport with you, but you convinced him that the quicker your goodbye, the better off youâd be. You have the sinking feeling you might burst into tears at any moment, and you donât want his last image of you for the foreseeable future to be one with tears streaming down your cheeks, donât want him to needlessly worry or drive off with a weight on his heart.
He holds you in his arms, hands rubbing reassuring circles on your back. âIâll come up as soon as I can, okay?â he says. âIn less than a month, I promise. Any longer and I might explode.â
You laugh. âI donât want you to explode.â
âNo, thatâd be pretty unfortunate.â
With one final kiss to the pretty lips that youâll be longing for until you see Jaeyun again, you grab the handle of your suitcase and walk towards the entrance of the departures area. âText me when you land, yeah?â he asks.
You nod. âI will.â You just stand there looking at him for a whileâyouâre a bit too sad to appreciate the fact that this is your first openly emotional, tearful goodbye, but part of you basks in knowing the separation isnât hard for you only. âI love you, Yun.â
He smiles, a beautiful mix of sorrow and happiness that you want to commit to memory. âI love you more, angel.â
Every time you turn around, heâs still there leaning against his car, possibly overstaying his time at the drop-off, until youâve walked too far into the airport and canât see him anymore.
.
.
Itâs already dark outside when a text from Minjeong lights up Jaeyunâs phone. Just dropped her off, it says. I tried to stop her from drinking so much, but she said she was going through Jaeyun withdrawals, whatever that means. Anyways sheâs wasted good luck lol
He shakes his head. Heâd be annoyed if he wasnât so excited to see youâheâd told Minjeong to keep you outside for a bit longer after work, not get you drunk. But before he has time to text her back, his phone starts ringing in his hand. Smiling, he picks up, your voice immediately filling his ear.
âJaeyun,â you whine, extending the second vowel for too many secondsâMinjeong wasnât just throwing words around when she said you were wasted. You must be in the elevator by now. He has half a mind to come and get you, just in case youâre stumbling around and pressing the wrong floor numbers, but if Minjeong dropped you off at your building and not your apartment, then you must have some awareness left.
He hopes. Thereâs something important he wants to talk to you about, and heâd rather you were sober for it.
âHi, baby,â he says.
This is apparently the worst thing he could possibly say, sensing as you make a noise halfway between a grunt and a whine. âDonât call me baby when I already miss you this much. Weâve talked about this!â
You definitely havenât. âIâm very sorry,â he says, exaggerating his serious tone, but you donât catch his sarcasm.
âYes, you should be.â The telltale beep of your code being pressed into the keypad breaks the silence of your apartment, and Jaeyunâs heart races with excitement. âIâm coming home now, Minjeong took me to thisââ
Your next words get caught in your throat the moment you step inside your apartment and see him, a few meters away from you in your kitchen. You stay frozen in place, phone still to your ear as he crosses the distance between you, smiling so hard his cheeks ache.
âWelcome home, angel.â
Heâs glad to see you arenât in too much of a wretched state. Even in your wide-gazed surprise, your eyes are a bit clouded over from the alcohol, and you arenât standing quite straight on your feet, but the way Minjeong texted him, he half-expected to find you with vomit on the front of your shirt. He steadies you with a hand to your waist, grabs your wrist gently to bring your arm down now that heâs hung upâand right in front of you.
âYouâre real?â you ask, and when he nods, as though that was all the confirmation you needed, you throw your arms around his neck. âMy Yunie,â you exclaim, voice muffled against his sweatshirt, and he has to bite back his laughter. Even a year and a half into your relationship, thatâs a new one. You still get flustered when a pet name escapes your lips instead of his name. Maybe he should let you get drunk more often.
You suddenly lean back, cupping his face between your palms, eyes slightly narrowed as they drift over every inch of his face, like youâre trying to see whether anythingâs changed. He lets you, a small, endeared smile on his lips, glad for the opportunity to admire you in return.
You press your lips to his, a little more forcefully than you usually would, then rest your head against his chest once more. âWhat are you doing here?â you ask. âDid you know I was missing you extra lately?â
âOf course I did. I always know what youâre thinking.â
âOkay. What am I thinking right now?â
He hums, pretends to think for a little. âThat you love me and are so happy to see me!â
You gasp. âYes! Youâre so smart,â you exclaim, hugging him even tighter.Â
Eventually, he manages to get you out of your coat and shoes, and leads you to the kitchen, where your counter is covered in flour and uncooked, homemade dumplings. He only needs to make a few more until he can start frying them. The rice is already cooked, and a miso and vegetable stew simmers on your stove. You make yourself useful by circling your arms around Jaeyunâs waist, your head resting on his shoulders as you watch him fold dough around a beef galbi filling, your favorite.Â
âDo you wanna go wash up before we eat?â he asks softly, afraid that in your sensitive state, you might take his words the wrong way. But to his surprise, you oblige without a word, giving his cheek a kiss before heading to your bedroom.
When you havenât come back ten minutes later, he goes to check on you, and finds you laying on top of your sheets, feet not even on your mattress but still on your floor like you fell back sitting and just stayed there. Youâve managed to remove your makeup and let down your hair, but you apparently ran out of energy before you could change out of your work clothes. Drool pools at the corner of your open lips.Â
Jaeyunâs heart aches with happiness. Every time he looks at you, even like this â especially like this â all he can think is how badly he wants to spend the rest of his life with you. And with every passing day that you stay with him, that you tell him good morning and good night and I love you, he thinks he might have a shot at it.
He sighs, but thereâs nothing else heâd rather be doing than slipping your trousers and blouse off of your frame and finding a large t-shirt for you to sleep in, then guiding your body underneath your sheets. You wake up once, giggle at yourself, and immediately fall back asleep.
A while later, after heâs cleaned up the kitchen, had a little bit of dinner â on his own, which he knows youâll feel awful about tomorrow â and washed up for bed, he gently closes the door of the bedroom behind him, where youâre still in deep sleep.
So heâll have to wait until the morning to share his news. Itâs alrightâhe has the whole weekend to tell you heâs found the perfect house, not too far from Gimcheon or from Daegu, where your boss has already said you could be transferred. He visited it last week, and in every room, he could picture your future together so perfectly. The kitchen in which heâll make you a late breakfast on lazy Sunday mornings, the room with a beautiful view over a garden that you could turn into an office for your work-from-home days, the bedroom that he could all too well imagine a crib in. Layla could run around in the garden. You could visit your family and friends whenever you wanted. You could be in Seoul in less than two hours with the train if you ever missed it.
Youâve been talking about moving somewhere together for a while now, but heâs still nervous to bring it up. Itâs a huge step, and he can only hope you are as ready as he is to take itâand if you arenât yet, heâll gladly wait for you to be. But as he slips into bed with you, your warm body shifting into his embrace even in sleep, he doubts heâll have to wait long at all. The days of holding back are long goneâever since itâs fully gotten through to you that he wonât ever leave your side if he can help it, youâve opened up to him like never before, let him take care of you like heâs always dreamed of.
He looks down at you and your peaceful sleeping face, his initial dangling on a thin silver chain that youâve worn since you found it again while organizing your jewelry box a few weeks ago. This is enough for now. But one day, if youâll have him, heâll make you his with another piece of jewelry, and falling asleep with you in his arms wonât be a once-in-a-while occurrence anymore.
Itâs more than enough, he thinks as he presses a kiss to your forehead, and lets the soft sound of your breathing lull him into sleep. Itâs everything.
.
.
âMy wife.â
Jaeyunâs voice is a low, possessive grunt in your ear. He says those two words like they hold the most precious meaning in the world, and it makes fire rise deep inside you.
You thought the reason Jaeyun had been so antsy during your journey to Hawaii was because heâd never travelled this far. Youâd chalked up his need to have his hand in yours or resting on your thigh for the entirety of the flight to it being his first time on a long-distance plane. You easily dismissed his clinginess on the drive from the airport to your hotel as his being tired, which always made him a little needier.
But when he pressed his body to yours the moment the door of your hotel room shut behind you, you finally understood what had actually been on his mind this entire timeâthe feeling of his erection, hard and insistent on your lower stomach, left no room for interpretation.
To be fair, since getting married three days ago, in the familiarity of your backyard and surrounded by your loved ones, youâd barely gotten any alone time. Relatives of his that lived far away stayed at your house until yesterday night, and at bedtime every night, either one or both of you were too tired to initiate anything. You havenât had sex since becoming Jaeyunâs wife, and clearly, this has been weighing on your husband.
He kisses you like he has been starving for months, desperate, ravenous, crazed. His arms around you hold you in a tight embrace, your bags haphazardly discarded at your feet. Eventually, he reaches for the back of your thighs and, legs hooked around his waist, carries you to the bed youâll call yours for the next week. You hadnât expected to break it in so quickly, but you wouldnât have it any other way, not when Jaeyunâs tongue laps at your mouth like this, not when his teeth graze your bottom lip so deliciously.
âNeed to touch you so bad, my love. Can I?â he asks, voice breathy.
âYes, Yun, please.âÂ
He slips a hand below your waistband and hums in satisfaction at the wetness he finds there. âAlways so wet for me, arenât you, baby? Always ready for me to fuck you.â
The feeling of his expert fingers on your clit render you unable to reply to himâitâs not like heâs waiting for an answer, anyway. The way you throw your head back and moan his name is all the confirmation he could need.Â
Although youâd be content to go on like this, it seems as though this isnât enough for him. He quickly withdraws his fingers, swallowing your whine of protest with a kiss. Itâs unusual, the speed with which he makes his way down your body until his face is level with your core. He normally likes to take his sweet time with you, trailing kisses all over your skin before giving in to your pleas for more. You take a little pride in knowing that you donât have to begâfor once, heâs the desperate one, heâs the one who canât wait a second longer.
Itâs obscene, and obscenely hot, the way he presses his nose against the crotch of your sweatpants and inhales deeply, a guttural groan escaping his throat. He presses kisses to your inner thighs and core over your clothes before he actually slides them down your thighs, letting them pool at your knees like he doesnât have time to take them off completely. He doesnât bother with your t-shirt, either, simply snaking his hands underneath it until they reach your breasts.
âFuck, Iâve missed this pussy so much,â he mutters, admiring it like it belongs in a museum.Â
You smile. âItâs been, like, four days.â
He shakes his head. âNever going without it for that long again.â
Jaeyun dives into your core, tongue licking a long stripe up your folds before it finds your clit and settles there, alternating between licking and sucking at the sensitive bud, two of his slender fingers quickly sliding inside of you. Your hands find purchase in his hair, tugging at it when a motion of his tongue feels particularly good, hips bucking against his mouth whenever his fingers hit that particularly deep spot inside you. He moans ceaselessly into your core, the vibrations making your thighs shake around his head, as though he needed this as much as you didâif not more. You swear you hear him mutter âmy wifeâ at some point. Embarrassingly quickly, you start to feel that familiar coil of pleasure form low in your stomach, a warm, dizzying buzz spreading throughout your entire body all the way to your fingertips.
Your relief at not having to beg turns out to be short-lived. Jaeyun makes you come on his tongue a first, then a second time, as he is often wont to do. Youâre impossibly sensitive, body heavy and boneless by the third time, but he isnât satisfied. His grip on your hips is firm, and you donât have the energy to fight itânor the willingness, really. Tears stream down your face by the time your fourth orgasm hits you, at which point you canât even tell pleasure from pain anymore. You really do need a break, though, and signal this to your husband â your husband â by lifting his head from your core.
He gives you a few minutes of physical respite, but the words that he whispers against your skin as he presses feverish kisses to your throat and jaw keep you in that hazy, nebulous headspace, and in those few minutes only, you already find yourself reaching for him, cupping his erection over his sweatpants.
You wince when he enters you, overstimulation setting in solely from having him inside you, but you shake your head when he asks if you need a longer break. âWant you, Yun,â you breathe out, holding onto his biceps, nails already digging into his skin.
As he pistons his hips into yours relentlessly, you almost canât believe this is the same man who was standing before you at the altar mere days ago, the sweetest smile on his lips and tears in his pretty eyes. You guess heâs holding true to one of his vowsâhe said heâd never make you doubt how much he loves you, and right now, you canât deny that heâs fucking you like youâre the only woman for him.
You think he must be close when his thrusts speed up and his grunts get louder. And recently, thereâs been a new telltale sign that he was inching closer to his orgasm.
âGonna fill you up, angel. Gonna stuff you full of my cum and make you the prettiest mommy ever. All round and beautiful, and carrying my baby. Show the whole world who you belong to.â
He mutters these words right into your ear just as his breathing gets heavier, more ragged, and seconds later, you feel him spurting ropes of his sperm inside you. When he first started talking to you like this, you assumed it was just long-term relationship dirty talk. But a couple of weeks ago, when you told him you were almost at the end of your last tablet of birth control, he asked how you felt about not renewing your prescriptionâso not just dirty talk, you realized.
He pulls out of you but stays on top of you, catching his breath as he rests his head on your chest and you play with his hair. Eventually, he grabs your left hand, lifts it to his lips, and presses them to your ring finger, right over the silver band. âThank you for marrying me, angel,â he whispers. âYouâve made me the happiest man on Earth.â
You kiss the top of his head, basking in the pleasant warmth of his words, of his scent, of his reassuring weight as he lays on top of you. âIâm the lucky one.â
âWill you still feel lucky when I tell you weâre not leaving this room all day?â
When you lift your head to look at him, heâs wearing a devilish grin. âWhy not?â you ask.
âBecause,â he says, pressing his lips to yours, âIâm fucking the jetlag out of you.â Your body responds to him, heat already starting to swirl in your stomach as though you havenât already taken more than you could handleâyour desire for him is a bottomless well. âAnd, so that in fifteen years, we get to embarrass our kid by telling them they were conceived in Hawaii.â
Needless to say, over the next week, you spend a lot more time in your hotel room than youâd planned, often only going out around noon or coming back halfway through dinnerâwhenever Jaeyun sees that ring around your finger, he seems to need some alone time with you.
He doesn't think he'll ever stop needing alone time with you.
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thank god fanfiction exists bc how else would i cope with irl men omg đ
omg emma the anime u recommended is on my watchlist !!!!!!!!!!!1 i will defo watch it soon after my finals yay and u NEED to watch tamons bside i feel like u would looooooooooooove it XD also how are we feeling abt the news that heeseung has left :/ (my name is literally hee anon i am so sad OMFG)
hee anon
hi again hee anon lol!!! good luck on ur finals!!!!! and omg tamons bside i watched the first 3 eps of and ur right i LOVED it i need to catch up on the new ones!!!! its so silly and dramatic and sm fun
and gosh heeseung leaving has been such a mess, to be completely honest i accepted it quite quickly bc im a seasoned veteran when it comes to this shit đ ive seen zayn leave one direction, mashiho and yedam leave treasure, and soojin leave idle lmao, and even though all four situations are very different from each other theres always that hope that something might change and they might go back to the group but it just doesnt happen...
ultimately i think belift has handled this situation very very poorly (as expected of a company who has repeatedly shared little concern for their artists' wellbeing) and i think its so odd how sudden and seemingly unplanned this was? but really i just want the boys to all be happy and the fans to stop making things so much worse than they have to be !! this situation has revealed just how truly parasocial some fans are and its been frustrating me so much seeing people speak like they KNOW how the boys are feeling and whats going on behind the scenes instead of accepting that we'll never really know the ins and outs of what happened
heeseung has talked about releasing solo music for a while and the way i see it is by staying in enhypen, he wouldnt have been able to do that, at least not for a whiiiiiiile. and hes been doing this for almost 6 years, do people realize how long that is????? thats longer than a college degree lmao!!!! i totally understand why he'd want to release HIS music and not have to suffer being overworked anymore. i hate that hes being painted as selfish by some fans for this totally normal dream for an artist to have
ok that turned into a total rant sorry but i hope youre doing okay hee anon!!!! its such a sucky situation all around and its totally normal to be upset esp if he was ur bias... but i have faith that he'll release awesome music and that he'll have a better time with it!!!


