>Genre: Soulmate AU ・ Fantasy AU ・ Slow Burn ・ Angst with Comfort ・ Fluff ・ Romance ・ Lowkey Mutual Pining ・ Emotional Growth
>Summary: Jungwon is dying—and he doesn’t even know who touched him.
Y/N is falling apart too, unaware that her soulmate bond has been activated.
A golden bruise marks them both.
Now they must stay close to survive.
But every touch feels too good—and every glance feels like falling.
Is it just the bond keeping them alive? Or something deeper pulling them in?
>Warning: Soulmate dependency (life-threatening), Emotional vulnerability, Heavy skinship/romantic tension, Fluff, heavy angst, and slow-burn intimacy, Jungwon constantly questioning the bond. Cameo of TXT, mentions of dying. jealousy? Pretend the XO MV was shoot near a sea. Jungwon singing Too Close (yes, this is a warning)
Let me know if i have to add anything else!
>Word count: 13k Masterlist
Enjoy your read!
The van smelled faintly of worn leather seats, leftover snacks, and the warm aftershave that clung to the boys' stage clothes. The drive to the MV filming location wasn’t long, but it already felt like an eternity to Jungwon, whose heart hadn't calmed since he noticed there were only seven seats. Seven members. One staff. And Y/N. He didn’t think twice.
“Sit,” he said simply, tugging her toward him. Y/N blinked, looking around as if someone else was going to offer a better option. “There’s no—” “Just here,” Jungwon said again, this time his hand resting at her waist as he guided her right onto his lap. The whole van exploded. Ni-ki let out a low whistle.
“Jungwon-hyung, acting bold now, aren’t we?” Jay snickered. “Should I start recording this?” Sunghoon leaned over from the front seat with the widest grin. “You two should date already. For everyone's sanity.” Jungwon turned pink immediately but held firm. Y/N sat stiff, her hands tucked into her lap, trying not to shift too much in fear of making this moment any more intimate than it already was. But she could feel everything.
The rise and fall of his chest. The heat of his hand still resting lightly on her waist. The way their knees brushed with every little bump on the road. And that damn electric flutter. Each time her back leaned slightly into his chest, the bond buzzed between them — soft, golden static that made her fingers twitch and her ears burn. Was he feeling it too? She didn’t dare ask.
—
The MV location was a dream. A coastal village kissed with morning fog, stone paths winding through flower beds, and a house perched right on a cliff where the waves crashed like applause. The shoot for "XO" was meant to feel dreamy, close, cinematic — almost like a secret whispered into someone's ear. Y/N wandered off while the crew set up. She sat quietly, admiring the sea when a shadow loomed. “You good?” She turned.
Jungwon.
Hair styled up. Earring glinting. Dressed in soft neutral tones that made him look too good, honestly. She nodded. He hesitated.
“You look... calm here.”
“I like the sea,” she replied, curling her legs under her.
“I used to come to places like this with my mom when I was little.” He nodded quietly and sat beside her. Not touching. But close. It wasn’t long before staff called him back, but as he stood, he glanced back once. “We’ll talk later, yeah?” Y/N smiled softly. “Yeah.” Filming was a blur. The director asked you to act with Jungwon in the umbrella scenes. No wait scratch that… you were basically forced to play that girl… by Jungwon or the members? But since when did you agree to be dragged that way? Maybe you wanted to film that. Play the girl who Jungwon likes?
Even if it's just acting?
The filming was amazing. All slow movements, soft touches, hand gestures. The director encouraged skinship. Comfort. Leaning. Smiling like love. And Jungwon hated how easily it came.
Because it wasn’t just acting.
Each time his fingers grazed hers, his heart flipped. When her head rested near his shoulder during one shot, he forgot his lines. During a spin shot, his hand caught her waist instinctively. His brain short-circuited for the rest of the take. The members caught on. They teased relentlessly. By the time they wrapped, the sky had turned the color of honey and lavender.
Everyone was tired. The vans took them back to a seaside hotel. Y/N was given her own room. Right next to Jungwon’s. She took a long shower and changed into what she assumed were some of the comfy clothes noona staff had packed for her. A white shirt. Oversized. Comfortable. She padded out of the bathroom, toweling her hair dry. And nearly walked straight into Jungwon.
Jungwon had come to check if she needed dinner. That’s all. He didn’t expect to be greeted by the sight of her, skin still damp from the shower, hair dripping down her back in soft waves, and— his shirt. She was wearing his white training shirt. Not the backup one from the stylist. Not one of her own. His. The one he used to sleep in sometimes. The one with a slightly frayed collar and his soft scent still clinging to it. She looked up innocently. “Sorry, I didn’t realize it was yours... noona just packed it in with the rest.” How the fuck do this noona always accidentally pack my clothes in her luggage?? He opened his mouth. Closed it. Tried again.
“I— it’s fine. Looks... good. I mean! Not like— I just meant— it fits. Comfortably. You look... comfortable.” Y/N stared at him. He buried his face in his hands. “God. Kill me.” She giggled. Something in his chest fluttered like crazy. They ate takeout on the hotel balcony. Silence sitting comfortably between them as the stars blinked to life above. After a while, she leaned back in her chair, her voice soft.
“You sing beautifully, you know.” He blinked. “What?” “Earlier. During the shoot. When you hummed under your breath.” Jungwon cleared his throat. “It’s a habit.” She smiled. “Can you sing something now?” He hesitated. Then pulled out his phone. “Okay... one song. Then you sleep. We have early call time tomorrow.” He began to sing softly:
Too close
A distance that's too dangerous
You so bad, I gotta move back
I'm so greedy, I'm so into you
Y/N’s chest ached. Not from the bond. From something softer. Sadder. Tenderer. He looked at her as he sang the next line:
Too close… A distance that melts all my nerves
Your breath touches my skin I'm dizzy,
I'm so into you
She didn't even realize they’d moved closer. By the time the song ended, she was tucked beside him on the small hotel couch, her head resting lightly on his shoulder. Neither of them spoke. Neither of them moved away. When she yawned, he reached for the throw blanket and draped it over her shoulders. “Sleep,” he whispered. “I’ll stay here.” “Just for a while?” she murmured. He didn’t answer. Because she was already asleep. And his heart was thundering under the weight of everything unspoken. Later that night, Jungwon shifted slightly. The couch was small and uncomfortable, but he didn’t mind.
Y/N moved in her sleep, her cheek now pressing gently against his shoulder. Her hand brushed against his knee, and the bolt of that familiar golden warmth surged up his arm. He bit his lip. He should move. He should go. But he didn’t want to. Not yet. The night outside was quiet. Crickets hummed in the grass. The waves kept their rhythm. And in this tiny sliver of time, he let himself feel everything. Peace. Closeness. A strange, aching fondness. She was wearing his shirt. And it had never looked better. The morning came too quickly. Y/N woke up to sunlight streaming through the sheer curtains and the soft beat of footsteps outside their room. Her head rested on something solid and warm. Chest. She blinked. Jungwon. He was still asleep, one arm slung protectively around her shoulders, his cheek resting against the top of her head. Her heart thudded painfully at the sight. God, he was beautiful. She shifted carefully, trying not to wake him. Her body still felt light and strange, the bond humming gently, as if content. As if pleased. It was like this now. No longer an unbearable burn, but a steady warmth. His lashes fluttered. A soft inhale. His eyes opened— and then widened.
“Is someone hugging me?” he muttered sleepily, his voice gravelly and utterly confused. Y/N choked on a laugh. “Good morning to you too.” He groaned and buried his face in her hair.
-----
They had to return to the city later that afternoon, the MV wrap met with praise and high-fives from the staff. But the van ride back was quieter. Jungwon didn’t ask her to sit on his lap this time. He didn’t need to. She did it herself. He blinked at her, surprised, as she settled comfortably, her head leaning back on his shoulder.
“It’s just a short ride,” she said. “Right,” he mumbled, heart hammering wildly. And the moment their fingers laced under the blanket someone had tossed over their legs — soft, shy, secret — the spark returned. Golden. Warm. And so, so close to real.
_____
The van rumbled to a stop outside a small, cozy countryside restaurant nestled among thick greenery and low mountains. It was the kind of quiet place that felt separate from time, a good place to rest and let thoughts settle. The scent of freshly cooked rice and warm stew wafted in the air even before they stepped inside, and after hours of shooting and teasing tension, it was a welcome kind of peace.
Y/N and Jungwon ended up sitting side by side on the traditional floor seating, their legs tucked under the table. The others were scattered around the large table, bickering about who got the last dumpling and laughing at Heeseung’s lame jokes. But Jungwon’s world had narrowed into a small sliver—the soft line where his knee touched Y/N’s.
Their thighs were barely brushing, but even that featherlight contact was electric. Jungwon tried to focus on the stew in front of him, bringing a spoon to his lips, but every time her knee shifted, brushing his again, a jolt shot through him. The soulmate bond was glowing under his skin like golden threads set ablaze, and the taste of food mingled with the heady rush of comfort and desire and... something deeper. Something hot and terrifying and consuming.
He bit down on his bottom lip and shut his eyes for a moment. God, it was dizzying. He couldn’t stop the spiraling thoughts. If I feel like this from just our legs touching... what the hell will I feel when we... He shook his head, as if the act alone would snap the thought away. No, stop. Focus on your food. Not her thigh. Not her hand. Not her lips. Stop. But the bond was humming like a lullaby against his skin. He turned his head slightly to glance at Y/N. She was chewing slowly, gazing out the window, completely unaware of the chaos going on inside him. Her hair was tied loosely, a few strands escaping to brush her cheeks. Her lips parted slightly to blow on the hot broth. She looked soft. She looked like home. And Jungwon was doomed.
After lunch, the staff decided to let the boys rest for the remainder of the day. The MV shoot would continue tomorrow, and the skies had already started to cloud slightly. They returned to the nearby lodge, and while the other members scattered—some napping, others scrolling through their phones or playing games—Jungwon found himself wandering toward the garden outside with Y/N. Just the two of them. They sat under a wooden pavilion, a soft breeze playing with Y/N’s hair. She looked serene, knees pulled up to her chest, hands wrapped around them. “What are you thinking about?” he asked, voice quieter than usual. She tilted her head. “Nothing really. Everything, maybe. You?” He smiled. “Same. It’s weird, huh?” “What is?” “This,” he said, waving a vague hand between them. “Us. Soulmates. Bonding. It feels... surreal. Like it’s supposed to be destiny or whatever, but I still don’t know how to act around you.” Y/N smiled softly. “You’re doing fine, you know. I mean... I think we’re figuring it out together.” His gaze lingered on her profile for a few seconds too long. “Do you... feel it too?” he asked suddenly, voice hesitant. She turned to him. “Feel what?” “When we touch.” Y/N blinked. Her mouth opened slightly, then closed again. He chuckled, flustered. “You don’t have to say yes if it’s just me—” “No,” she interrupted, cheeks going pink. “I do. I mean—I do feel something. Like this... rush of something golden. It’s like warmth and happiness and... I don’t know. Fireworks?” Jungwon’s breath hitched slightly.
“Fireworks is a good word,” he murmured. A long silence settled between them, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. It was full of all the things they hadn’t said yet. “You know what the others call me?” Y/N asked suddenly. He raised a brow. “What?”
“The girl that makes Jungwon’s heart do weird things.” He groaned immediately, covering his face with both hands. “I’m going to kill them.” Y/N giggled. “It’s kinda cute.” He peeked at her through his fingers. “You think I’m cute?” Her eyes widened. “I didn’t say that—” “But you didn’t deny it.” She laughed, shoving him gently with her shoulder. The touch lingered longer than it needed to. They sat there for another hour, talking about everything and nothing. Childhood memories. Dreams. Favorite snacks. Jungwon asked her why she liked strawberry milk. She teased him about his obsession with scented candles. Every conversation felt easy, but underlined with a quiet sort of urgency—as if their hearts were finally learning to speak the same language. And Jungwon, still flustered and still figuring this out, realized something startling. He was starting to look forward to every time her knee touched his. Every time she laughed. Every time her voice softened when talking to him. He was starting to feel more than just golden pleasure and warmth. He was starting to fall.
—----------
The dorms were unusually quiet for a weekend afternoon, a rare slice of calm that felt too good to be true. Jungwon had somehow convinced the others to give him and Y/N space. Well, it wasn’t that difficult—Sunoo winked dramatically and dragged the rest of the boys out with promises of bubble tea and claw machine competitions. That left the two of them alone in the dorm, heartbeats loud in the silence. Jungwon leaned against the kitchen counter, sipping from a mug he didn’t need, just something to do with his hands. Y/N stood opposite him, pretending to read the label on a cereal box, the golden-bonded tension crackling in the air between them like summer lightning.
“So,” Jungwon began, his voice casual but his heart racing as if he’d run a marathon. “You always wear socks that don’t match?” Y/N looked down at her feet—one yellow sock, one pink. She flushed. “Yeah? It’s… kind of a thing.” He grinned. “You’re starting a trend.” Y/N huffed playfully, tossing a piece of cereal at him. “Are you flirting with me using socks?” “Maybe.” He tilted his head, smile growing. “Is it working?” God, she wanted to melt. The flutter in her chest was so sharp it almost hurt. The warmth from his voice, the way his fingers were gripping the mug tighter than necessary—she was hyper-aware of everything about him. “I don’t know,” she replied softly. “Try harder.” Jungwon blinked, then leaned forward slightly, resting his elbows on the counter. The distance between them shortened. His eyes were darker than usual, teasing, unreadable. “You’re cute when you challenge me.” “I’m not challenging you.” “Now you’re lying. You always do that thing with your fingers when you lie.” She stared. “How do you—?” “I notice,” he said simply, and Y/N could barely breathe. Every time their hands brushed—like when he handed her a glass of water, or when she passed him a spoon—it sent electric pulses through her skin. Not painful, not shocking, but warm. Tingly. Like goosebumps from a whisper. “You feel it too, right?” she asked suddenly, the words tumbling out before she could stop herself. “When we touch?” Jungwon’s gaze flickered to her hand, then back to her eyes. He stepped around the counter, his presence larger, closer. “All the time.” Her breath hitched.
“When you brushed past me earlier,” he continued, voice low, intimate, “my hand was tingling for five minutes. I thought I’d burned myself or something.” Y/N laughed, nervous and breathy. “It’s the bond.” “Is it?” She blinked. “What else could it be?” Jungwon tilted his head. “I don’t know. I think…” he stepped a little closer, his shoulder almost touching hers, “I think I’d be this drawn to you even without the bond.” Her heart stuttered. There it was. The flirt. The flirt era Jungwon had arrived. She looked away, cheeks heating up. “You say that like it’s normal.” “It’s not,” he admitted. “But nothing about you feels normal. Not in a bad way. More like… you’re really beautiful kind of weird.” Y/N covered her face with her hands. “Oh my God.” He laughed—soft, fond. “What? You told me to try harder.” “You’re doing too well,” she muttered behind her fingers. They ended up sitting on the couch, side by side, knees touching. Jungwon seemed to shift closer every few minutes until the heat of his thigh burned against hers. He said nothing about it, just acted like it was the most natural thing in the world. Maybe, in some twisted soulmate-coded way, it was. She dared a glance at his profile—soft jawline, the way his lashes kissed his cheeks when he blinked. She wondered what would happen if she leaned into him. If she'd explode. Or melt. Or both. “You’re staring,” he said, not looking at her. “You’re imagining things.” “I’m imagining a lot of things,” he said quietly. Y/N’s mouth went dry. “Like what?” “Like…” Jungwon finally looked at her. His eyes were so open, it made her dizzy.
“What it’d be like to just hold your hand without it feeling like my chest’s going to cave in.” She swallowed thickly. “Why not try?” He reached over slowly, interlacing their fingers. The golden heat immediately spread through both of them. Y/N gasped—like every nerve ending was on fire, but in the gentlest, warmest way possible. “It still feels like my chest’s going to cave in,” he said, smiling. “But it’s kind of nice now.” They sat like that for a long time. Quiet. Content. “You think we’ll ever get used to this?” she whispered. Jungwon shrugged. “I hope not.” And maybe, just maybe, neither of them wanted to. “I think I like this,” Y/N said, her voice barely louder than a whisper. He turned to her, brow raised. “What part?” “This part,” she said, turning her palm upward and brushing her fingers lightly over his. “Where we can just be close and talk about anything.” His throat bobbed. “Yeah,” he said, hoarsely. “Me too.” They didn’t need anything more. Not yet. Because this was already everything. Y/N had been at the dorms for a while now, and something about the way she moved through their shared spaces—confident, yet always careful not to disturb anyone—was starting to settle deep into Jungwon’s bones. She wasn’t loud. She wasn’t overly charming. But she was... easy to fall into. Like slipping under a warm blanket on a rainy day. And maybe that was the problem. Because Jungwon? He was slipping. Fast.
_____
“Did you just use my conditioner again?” he asked as Y/N walked into the kitchen, her hair damp and smelling distinctly like the exact product he’d claimed was off-limits. Y/N didn’t miss a beat. “Nope.” Jungwon stepped closer, inhaled exaggeratedly. “Then why do you smell like eucalyptus and betrayal?” She laughed, cheeks turning the lightest pink. “It was just a little. You have three bottles.” “It’s the principle.” “And what principle would that be?” she asked, tilting her head up to meet his gaze. Jungwon smiled lazily. “That if you keep smelling like that, I’ll get addicted.” Y/N blinked. Then blinked again. “I—what?” He leaned casually against the counter, arms folded across his chest. “You heard me.” Her heart wasn’t just fluttering. It was sprinting laps. “You can’t just say stuff like that,” she mumbled, reaching for a mug she didn’t need just to busy her hands. “I can if it’s true.” Their fingertips brushed when he passed her the kettle. That electric hum, now familiar but never any less intense, passed between them. Both stilled. Y/N’s grip tightened on the handle. “Still happens, huh?” he asked quietly, looking down at their hands. She nodded. “Yeah.” He tilted his head. “Is it the bond?” “I don’t know,” she said honestly. “But I feel it. Every time.” Jungwon was quiet for a moment before he grinned again. “Do you think Jake would faint if I held your hand in front of him?” Y/N rolled her eyes. “You’re impossible.” “Impossible to resist,” he said smoothly. She let out a sound somewhere between a groan and a laugh. “You’ve been hanging around Heeseung too much.” “No, he’s subtle. I’m direct. There's a difference.” Y/N turned away before he could see her face fully erupt into crimson. Jungwon, ever the predator for reactions, followed after her. “You blush really easily,” he teased. “Stop noticing everything."
Impossible,” he said again. “You’re kind of hard not to notice.” Later that evening, they ended up on the couch again, like they always did. Side by side. Knees pressed together. Their bond was steady now, a warm thrum beneath their skin. Familiar. Calming. But with Jungwon in flirt-mode, calming was a relative concept.
“You ever notice,” he said after a while, tapping his fingers against his thigh, “that every time you smile at me, my brain sort of short circuits?” Y/N glanced at him. “You say that like you expect me to believe it.” He leaned his head against the backrest, looking at her sideways. “Why wouldn’t you?” “I don’t know,” she muttered. “Maybe because you’re an idol and you probably have fans fainting over your smile every day.” Jungwon laughed, and it was soft—unfiltered. “Yeah, well. They don’t live in my dorm. Or steal my conditioner. Or wear my hoodie when they’re cold.” Y/N tugged the edge of his hoodie tighter around herself. “It’s comfy.” “It’s unfair,” he said with a grin. “You look better in it than I do.” Silence settled between them again, but it was warm, full of words unsaid. Then Jungwon reached out, threading their fingers together again. The golden warmth rushed up her arm, spreading to her chest, her cheeks. Her lips parted involuntarily.
“You feel that?” he asked, voice lower now. She nodded slowly. “Good,” he whispered. “Because I’d really hate to be the only one losing my mind over a hand-hold.” Y/N turned her head and looked at him—really looked. The slope of his nose. The soft pink of his lips. The way his gaze didn’t waver. “I’m starting to think,” she said quietly, “that maybe it’s not just the bond.” He smiled. Not his teasing grin, but something gentler. More raw. “I was hoping you’d say that.” She didn’t pull away when his thumb traced small, lazy circles against her hand. And when he said, “You’re my favorite thing to come home to,” it was quiet enough that only she could hear. But loud enough that her heart swore it would never forget.
—
The schedule was lighter that week, and the company had decided it was the perfect time for some inter-group bonding. Jungwon had a prior commitment that afternoon, and Y/N found herself being ushered through the HYBE hallways by a staff noona who grinned mischievously the entire walk. “Why do I feel like you’re leading me to my doom?” Y/N asked. “You’ll be fine,” the noona sang. “Just... remember they’re playful. You’re Jungwon’s soulmate. You’re basically a celebrity now.” That did absolutely nothing to calm her nerves. When the door to the room opened, Y/N was met with cheerful chaos.
The members of TXT were sprawled across couches, some playing with snacks, others scrolling through phones. They all looked up at once. “Y/N!” Soobin stood first, smile wide and welcoming. “Finally, we meet the infamous soulmate.” “Infa—what?” she laughed nervously, stepping in with caution. Yeonjun grinned from his spot on the floor. “Jungwon never shuts up about you.” “No, he doesn’t!” she said, cheeks coloring. Beomgyu patted the seat beside him. “Come, sit. We have questions.” Taehyun lifted his phone. “This is purely for scientific research.” They all burst out laughing at her expression. “Okay, okay,” Hueningkai said gently.
“We just want to know. What’s it like? Being bonded with him?” Y/N sat down, heart doing that flutter thing it did anytime Jungwon’s name came up. “It’s... nice. He’s kind, and funny, and he really cares.” “But how does it feel?” Yeonjun pressed. “Physically, I mean. When you bond.” Y/N blinked. “Um.” Everyone leaned in. “Well,” she started slowly, fidgeting with the hem of her sleeve, “it’s like this warmth that spreads across your skin. Comforting and gentle. But also—” she paused, eyes darting to the floor, “—also kind of... intense?” Beomgyu raised a brow. “Intense how?” “It’s like—” She winced. “Okay, don’t make me say it. But it feels really good. Like really, really good. Sometimes too good.” The room exploded.
Beomgyu practically fell off the couch. “TOO GOOD?” Yeonjun’s eyes widened. “Girl. Are you telling us hand-holding is basically a full-on experience for you?” Y/N covered her face. “This is why I didn’t want to say anything!” Soobin chuckled, offering her a bottle of water. “Don’t worry. Your secret’s safe with, uh, ten other people who are probably telling the rest of the building.”
“Great,” she muttered. “Just great.” Hueningkai smiled kindly. “But really, we’re glad you two are okay now. We heard it was rough in the beginning.” “Yeah,” she said, a little more seriously. “It was. But Jungwon’s been... incredible.” The group quieted for a second, sensing the shift.
“And you’re incredible too,” Taehyun said, nudging her lightly. “He’s lucky. He knows it too.” She smiled, eyes soft. “Thanks.” Yeonjun cleared his throat. “Anyway. Just letting you know—if things ever get too intense with Jungwon, Beomgyu has a cooling spray. He uses it for his ego but he’s willing to share.”
“HEY!” Beomgyu cried. Y/N laughed so hard her sides hurt. By the time Jungwon arrived later that evening, Y/N was comfortably wedged between Soobin and Taehyun, joking and snacking like she’d been part of the crew forever. “What did I miss?” he asked, stepping in. Yeonjun wiggled his eyebrows. “Nothing much. Just found out your soulmate thinks you’re very... intense.” Y/N choked on her juice. “I HATE YOU ALL.” Jungwon looked at her, then them, then back to her flushed face. And grinned. “Good to know.”
The walk back to the dorm was suspiciously quiet. Jungwon kept glancing at Y/N from the corner of his eye, the corners of his mouth twitching with restrained amusement. She knew he wanted to say something. Hell, he’d been holding it in since the moment they left the studio building and TXT waved goodbye with not-so-subtle winks and air kisses. Y/N grumbled, hugging her tote bag tighter. “Don’t say it.” He blinked innocently. “Say what?” “You know what.” He gave her the kind of smirk that was equal parts leader charm and soulmate smugness.
“You think I make you feel really, really good, huh?” Her entire body burned. “I hate you.” “No, you don’t,” he said brightly. “You literally said the opposite, just not in words.” Y/N stopped walking, burying her face in her hands. “They set me up. It was a trap.” “They just asked a question.” “They asked it with evil intent.” He chuckled, gently pulling her hands away from her face. “You know...” he leaned in slightly, his voice low and a bit teasing, “...you haven’t denied it.” She looked up at him, caught in that gaze. Something fluttered in her chest again—something soft and inconveniently fond. “You’re insufferable.” “Maybe,” he said, walking again. “But I’m also the guy who makes your knees weak with a thigh touch, apparently.” “WONIE!” she cried, smacking his arm as he burst into laughter.
Later that night, when they were lounging in the common room with their feet tangled on the couch and a low movie playing in the background, Jungwon passed her a soda without looking. “You were cute today.” Y/N blinked. “Huh?” “With the guys,” he said casually. “All flustered and blushy.” “I wasn’t blushy!” “You were blushier than usual.” “Jungwon.” “Y/N.” They locked eyes. He held her gaze just long enough to make her stomach twist. “Fine,” she muttered, sipping her drink. “Maybe a little.” He grinned. “Admit it, I’m your weakness.” “No, my bond is the weakness.” “But I am your bond.” “You’re so full of yourself.” “I’m full of you.” She spat out her soda. He choked laughing. “Okay, I admit that sounded better in my head.” Y/N was giggling now, pressing her hand to her face as she wheezed. “You’re an idiot.” “An idiot you’re bonded to for life.” Her smile softened, and he noticed. He always noticed. “Yeah,” she said quietly. “For life.” His teasing faded just a bit.
He reached over and lightly bumped his shoulder into hers. “We’ll figure it all out. Even if we’re a little slow.” She nodded. “As long as we do it together.” And they didn’t need the bond’s rush of warmth to feel that connection. It was already there.
It was comeback season. Enhypen had performances packed up. That’s why here we are in the waiting room. The waiting room buzzed with quiet tension, muffled conversations, and the rustling of wardrobe racks. Y/N sat tucked into the corner of a long grey couch, her phone resting in her hands, but her eyes weren’t really on it. Not when Jungwon was just across the room. He was seated in the makeup chair, his back facing her, posture tired yet still somehow regal, still somehow him.
The makeup artist hovered around him, close enough that her knee grazed his thigh with every step. Her hands worked delicately on Jungwon’s face, dabbing under his eyes, brushing powder against his cheeks. She laughed at something he said—too loud, too familiar. Y/N’s chest tightened. She hated this feeling. This foreign, aching coil in her gut. It was stupid. Irrational. She had no right to feel this way. But every time the stylist leaned forward, brushing a little too close to Jungwon’s mouth, Y/N’s fingers gripped the phone tighter. The bond between them wasn’t active right now. There was no golden warmth wrapping around her chest, no heady pull demanding touch. But this? This was all her. A very human kind of envy. She lowered her gaze, biting the inside of her cheek, trying to swallow it all down. It’s fine. It’s makeup. She’s doing her job. But the image stayed. Burned into her mind.
Later that evening, when they all returned to the dorms, the air between her and Jungwon had shifted. He felt it the second he took her hand to bond—her fingers were colder, slower to curl into his. She didn’t meet his eyes. He tried brushing it off at first, but every hour stretched the silence further. She didn’t laugh at Sunoo’s usual antics. She didn’t poke fun at Heeseung when he sang off-key. And when Jungwon reached for her hand again before dinner, she gave it willingly… but there was a wall behind her touch. He couldn’t take it anymore.
Once everyone had gone quiet for the night, Jungwon stood outside their room, fingers hovering near the door. He hesitated. Was he overthinking this? No. He knew her well enough now to know something was wrong. He knocked twice. She opened the door, wrapped in a hoodie, her hair slightly damp from a shower. Her eyes flickered up at him, tired.
“Can I come in?” She nodded wordlessly. He stepped in and closed the door behind him. The silence was heavy. Jungwon stood there, heart thudding. “Y/N,” he said softly, “Did I… do something?” Her eyes darted away. “You haven’t looked at me all day,” he continued. “You only talk when someone else does. You won’t meet my eyes when we bond. What did I do?” “Don't ignore me like this please tell me, did I do something wrong? hmm?”
The vulnerability in his voice broke something open in her. It was Jungwon. Not just the idol. Not just the boy she was bonded to. It was Jungwon, the one who looked at her like she meant the world. The one who held her hand like it steadied him. And he looked scared. She sat down on the edge of the bed and exhaled. “I was jealous,” she whispered. He blinked. “What?” She looked up, voice firmer this time. “I was jealous. Of the makeup artist.” His brows pulled together, confused. “She was really close to you,” Y/N said, eyes shining now. “Touching your face. Laughing with you like she’s always been there. And I— I know it’s her job. I know. But it didn’t stop me from feeling like I wanted to rip her away from you.” Jungwon stood there frozen, processing. Then he walked forward, kneeling in front of her slowly, his hands gently resting on her knees.
“You felt jealous?” he asked softly, voice tender. “Because of me?” Y/N’s face turned red. “Please don’t make fun of me.” “I’m not,” he whispered. “God, I’m not. I just— Y/N, I’ve spent every day wondering if I’m too much. If I’m a burden. This bond… it makes me so dependent on you. And now you’re telling me that you— you actually care that much?” Her hand trembled. “Of course I care. I didn’t ask for this bond either, but… but I chose to stay. I chose you, Jungwon.” He leaned forward, resting his forehead against her knee. The contact sent a shiver through both of them. The bond hummed between them, golden and gentle. “I thought you’d never feel the same way,” he admitted. “That it was just the bond making you stay close. I didn’t realize you were this far in already. Just like me.” Y/N reached forward, brushing his hair out of his face.
“I didn’t realize it either,” she said. “Until today. Until the thought of someone else touching you made my stomach twist.” He looked up, a small smile ghosting across his lips. “Say it again,” he whispered. “What?” “That you were jealous.” She huffed, pushing at his shoulder. “No.” “Please?” he teased, grin growing wider. “Just once more. For my heart.” She rolled her eyes, cheeks pink. “I was jealous. Happy now?” “Ecstatic.” “I didn’t think I’d ever hear you say that,” he murmured, brushing his thumb across her cheekbone. “Do you even know what that did to me?” Y/N stayed still, afraid the moment would vanish if she moved. Jungwon exhaled deeply, his forehead resting lightly against hers.
“You’re the only one in my life, Y/N.” Her breath hitched. “I don’t care who stands close to me. I don’t notice anyone else,” he whispered. “I can’t. Ever since I touched you that first time, it’s like my whole body knew before my heart caught up. It’s not just the bond. It’s you.” His voice cracked on the last syllable. “You walk into a room, and I forget what I was thinking. You touch my hand, and I don’t care if I can’t breathe. If I’m not looking at you, I’m looking forward to you. There’s no one else.” He pulled back just enough to look at her. “And if I ever made you feel less than the only one… I’m sorry. Because to me, you always have been.” Y/N’s eyes stung. Her hands lifted without thinking, fingertips tracing the soft curve of his jaw. “I didn’t want to feel this much,” she whispered. He chuckled — hoarse and honest. “Me either.”
They sat like that for a while, their laughter quiet but warm, fingers eventually finding each other again. And when they laid side by side that night, her head tucked beneath his chin, their hands linked between them, neither said anything more. Because sometimes, just breathing the same air as the person who steadies your soul is enough. And Jungwon? He never let go of her hand.—--The next morning crept in slowly, soft and warm, like the sun tiptoeing over the edges of their tightly drawn curtains. Y/N stirred first, blinking into the golden haze that filtered through the gaps. Her muscles ached a little from sleep, but she felt something else more powerful—calm. Not because the world had changed overnight, but because of the boy whose soft breathing still lingered in the silence. Jungwon was still fast asleep beside her, one arm draped loosely over his stomach, the other curled slightly toward where her hand had been the entire night. His fingers twitched in the space she had vacated, as if seeking something he'd rather not let go. Y/N smiled. Just a little. After all the vulnerability of last night, all the confessions, it felt different now. Not in a loud, dramatic way—but something steady and soft. Like turning the page of a book you didn’t want to finish but needed to keep reading.
By the time Jungwon woke, Y/N was sitting cross-legged on the hotel room couch, scrolling idly through her phone while sipping water. She looked up at the sound of him shifting. "Morning," he croaked, voice still thick with sleep. His hair was a mess, cheeks adorably puffed from sleep. Y/N laughed gently. "You look like a baby hedgehog." He squinted. "You calling me cute this early should be illegal." "You calling yourself cute by agreeing is worse," she shot back. He stood up and stretched, groaning, his hoodie riding up slightly to reveal a sliver of his stomach. Y/N quickly looked away, heat crawling up her neck. They had breakfast with the rest of the group at a cozy restaurant near the hotel.
Somehow, she and Jungwon ended up sitting side by side again, their knees brushing under the table. It wasn’t a big deal. Just a light press of skin. But for Jungwon—and Y/N too—it was overwhelming. The sensation shot through him like golden static, pleasure blooming from the point of contact and spreading like warm honey through his limbs. He blinked slowly, set his spoon down, and subtly shifted in his seat. Y/N noticed. "You okay?" she whispered. "Yeah," he breathed. But his face was flushed, his breaths a little too deep. What the hell is wrong with me? he thought. If this is what I feel when our knees touch, what will happen if we ever... He shook his head quickly. No. Not now. STOP THINKING ABOUT IT ALL THE TIMEEEE aishhhh!!!
Later that day, they were finally given free time. No filming. No rehearsals. Just the city, the sunlight, and themselves. Jungwon had already decided he wanted to spend the whole day with Y/N. They walked through a quiet part of town, trying pastries from street vendors, laughing at random jokes, and even daring to talk about embarrassing moments from their pasts. "I once tripped walking up the stairs during an award show," Jungwon confessed, covering his face. "I once called my professor 'mom' in front of my entire class," Y/N replied, and they both burst into laughter. She hadn’t realized how easily Jungwon could make her laugh. Or how quick he was with comebacks. Or how often he looked at her when she wasn’t watching. The bond required them to be close—but the closeness they were building now didn’t feel like a requirement. It felt like a choice. They found a small park bench hidden beneath a cherry blossom tree and sat down, letting the wind rustle between them.
The petals fell slowly, catching in Y/N’s hair. Jungwon reached out. He plucked a blossom gently from her strands, fingers brushing her temple. The fluttering in her chest was immediate. She turned her head slightly. "Thanks." He gave a small, lopsided smile. "You always look pretty with flowers." Y/N went still. Her heart thudded once, loud and clear. She tried to laugh it off, but it came out breathy. "You’re getting good at flirting." Jungwon grinned. "I’m practicing. Gotta impress my soulmate." Y/N looked away, cheeks glowing. And for a while, they just sat like that. Knees touching. Shoulders brushing. No expectations, no scripts. Just the warmth of two souls figuring out what they were becoming.
That night, after they returned to the hotel, something shifted. They were both in their pajamas—soft cotton and loose-fitting, comfortable. The night air was cool, the lights dimmed low in the shared suite. Y/N sat on the edge of the bed, brushing out her damp hair, and Jungwon, freshly showered, was trying to pretend he wasn’t watching her through the reflection in the mirror. The way her collar slipped down her shoulder. The curve of her neck. The delicate dip of her spine. His throat felt dry. When she looked up and caught his gaze through the mirror, he quickly looked away. "I, uh… was just wondering if you’re okay. You were quiet during the ride." "Just thinking," she said softly. "About... everything." He nodded. The silence stretched. And then she turned. "Jungwon? Do you ever feel it… stronger at night?" His heart stuttered. "The bond?" She nodded. "Yeah," he admitted. "Sometimes I think just looking at you is too much." Her lips parted, surprised by his honesty. The tension in the room grew thick and warm. He stepped closer. "Like now," he whispered. Their fingers brushed. That was all. But it sparked something deep in their chests. A longing neither of them could name. And though they didn't touch again that night, the air between them was charged with things unsaid. And understood all the same.
The next morning dawned with a strange, heavy warmth that clung to Y/N’s skin like fog. Even before opening her eyes, she could sense his presence—Jungwon. He was quiet, like always, but there was a charge in the air that hadn’t been there before. Their schedules were light today, only a brief rehearsal and some free time afterward. But ever since that night in the hotel, where her body had curled into his in unconscious surrender, things between them hadn’t gone back to normal.
They still held hands, still sat beside each other, but now every brush of their skin came with a slow burn that lingered far too long. In the dorm kitchen, Y/N reached for a glass just as Jungwon did, and their fingers touched. She froze. He didn’t pull away either. Their eyes locked. The silence throbbed. A pulse of something surged through her—soft, golden, then molten and sharp. She yanked her hand back, startled by the intensity, and the glass nearly fell. "Sorry," she mumbled. He chuckled, low and hoarse. "You always do that. Run." She glanced at him, confused. "Do what?"
"Pull away. Like you're scared to want this." Y/N opened her mouth, but nothing came out. What was there to say when he looked at her like that—like he could read her thoughts, like he knew exactly how she felt each time their skin met? "I'm not scared," she said quietly, though it sounded more like a question than an answer. He stepped closer, not touching her, but close enough for her body to start humming with anticipation.
"Then why do you always look at me like you want to kiss me, but won’t?" Her heart stumbled. She turned around, retreating to the table, hoping to cool her cheeks. The kitchen suddenly felt too warm, too quiet.
They rehearsed later that afternoon, and Y/N sat at the edge of the room, watching him move. Jungwon was in his element—precise, commanding, sweat dripping down his neck and soaking through his shirt. His shirt clung to him, exposing more than it covered. Y/N tried not to notice. She failed. He caught her staring. He smirked. When the rehearsal ended, he collapsed next to her, breathless, flushed, glowing. "Tired?" she asked. He leaned his head back, exposing the soft line of his throat. "Only a little. Could use a recharge, though." He reached for her hand. It was automatic now—the bonding. But this time, when their palms met, Y/N didn’t feel the usual warm thrum. She felt something deeper. Lower. Like her body was quietly craving more. She stiffened. He noticed.
"You felt that too," he whispered. She nodded. Neither of them said anything for a moment, both pretending to focus on their hands, but the heat blooming under their skin was impossible to ignore. It curled and tugged and wanted more.
That night, they watched a movie in the dorm’s common room, seated too close on the couch. The other members left halfway through, claiming sleep. Maybe on purpose. Jungwon didn’t speak. Neither did she. But when his thigh brushed hers, and he didn’t move it, neither did she. At one point, their pinkies touched. Y/N’s heart did a summersault. She could feel the warmth of his body next to hers, radiating into her skin. He smelled like soap and warmth and something distinctly him. She wasn’t sure when she had started memorizing that scent. A scene in the movie showed a couple kissing, passionately. Y/N shifted. Jungwon noticed. "You okay?" "Yeah," she said. Her voice sounded strange. She cleared her throat. "Just… hot." "Yeah," he murmured. "Me too." Silence stretched again. But this time, it wasn’t comfortable. It was electric. Dangerous. He didn’t look at her, but his fingers found hers on the couch. He laced them together. This was normal. This was required. But this time, when their hands met, a wave of golden pleasure rocked through her so hard that she gasped. Jungwon finally looked at her. His voice was low, eyes sharp.
"You feel it too. Don’t you?" She didn’t answer. Couldn’t. His thumb brushed her knuckle. Then again. "Every time I touch you, it’s like my whole body remembers something it’s never known before." Her breath caught. Jungwon leaned closer, but didn’t kiss her. Instead, he tilted his head so his lips hovered near her ear. "It drives me crazy, Y/N. The way my skin reacts to you. The way just holding your hand makes me want more." She was frozen. Her brain was screaming, but her heart—it was leaping, racing, doing all sorts of wild things. "We can’t," she finally whispered. He leaned back, giving her space, but the look in his eyes—God, it burned. "I know." The movie ended. Neither of them moved. "Y/N," he said softly, "does it feel like this for everyone?" She shook her head. "No. Not like this." A pause. Then: "Then maybe... it’s not just the bond." Y/N didn’t respond. Not because she didn’t have an answer. But because the answer scared her. Her fingers still trembled faintly in his. Her mind was racing, but her body—her body felt suspended. Like if he moved even a centimeter closer, she would completely unravel. Jungwon leaned back against the couch, but his hand never left hers. He stayed still, looking up at the ceiling, trying to breathe evenly.
His heart felt like it was galloping in his chest, wild and reckless. And the bond? It pulsed between them, steady but burning low. Like a live wire buzzing just beneath their skin. Y/N finally whispered, “It’s not supposed to feel this good, right?” Jungwon’s jaw clenched. “No. I mean—it’s supposed to be strong. Intimate. Soul-deep. But this…?” He shook his head. “This is something else.” She turned to look at him. His profile was illuminated by the TV’s blue light. He looked older. More vulnerable. Like he was barely holding something back. “I think about it all the time,” she admitted, barely audible. “Not just the touch. But you. Your voice. Your eyes when you laugh. The way you look when you’re focused. I—I notice everything.” Jungwon’s gaze snapped to hers. The air between them sparked. It crackled. And still, they didn’t move. Still, they held back. “It’s getting harder,” he said after a long pause, his voice raw. “Not to want… more.” Y/N nodded. “I know.” “I don’t want to hurt you. Or make you feel like you have to—because of the bond.” “You’re not,” she said quickly. “I’m scared too. But not of you.” Jungwon’s breath hitched.
The silence returned, but now it carried weight. It felt like the edge of something. Something terrifyingly beautiful. A precipice they couldn’t quite step over yet. Eventually, Y/N stood. “I should go wash up.” Jungwon stayed seated, eyes following her until she disappeared down the hallway. Only then did he let his shoulders collapse forward, elbows on his knees, running a shaky hand through his hair. Maybe it wasn’t just the bond. Maybe it was her. All of her.
Later that night Y/N lay curled in her bed, staring at the ceiling. The apartment was silent except for the hum of the AC. She could still feel his hand in hers. Still hear the low timbre of his voice echoing through her bones. It wasn’t just touch. It wasn’t just proximity. It was how her chest tightened every time he looked at her like that—as if she was something he’d never be able to stop wanting. And if she was honest with herself… She didn’t want him to. There was a knock on her door. “Y/N?” Jungwon’s voice was soft. Careful. “Can I come in?” Her heart skipped. She got up and opened it. Jungwon stood there in a hoodie and sweatpants, barefoot, hair slightly messy from bed. He looked younger like this. But his eyes—they still burned. “I can’t sleep,” he admitted. “It’s loud in here.” She tilted her head. “Loud?” “In here,” he repeated, tapping his chest. “It won’t stop. The way it felt earlier. It keeps replaying.” She opened the door wider. “Come in.” He stepped inside. They didn’t touch this time. Didn’t even sit too close. But as they sat at the edge of her bed, both staring ahead at the closed curtains, the silence settled again—intimate in its own way. After a beat, Y/N whispered, “What would happen if we didn’t hold back?” Jungwon turned to her. “Are you asking what the bond would do? Or what I would?” She looked at him. “Both.” He leaned forward, elbows on his knees again, but this time he faced her fully.
“The bond would pull us closer. I know that much. But me?” His voice dropped to a whisper. “I’d lose control. But not in a scary way. In a ‘I-would-treat-you-so-gently-it-would-break-me’ kind of way.” Y/N’s breath caught. “I’d memorize the way you breathe,” he continued, “how your hands tremble when I touch you, the exact sound you make when my lips brush your skin.” She was barely holding it together. “But I can wait,” he added. “I can wait forever if I have to. I just need you to know that you’re not imagining this. It’s real. It’s not just the bond.” She nodded slowly. The heat between them simmered. There was no kiss that night. No confessions. No more touches.
But the next morning, when they walked out of her room together, hands brushing—not even touching—the tether burned gold between them. Something had changed. They both felt it. And the first kiss? It would only be a matter of time.
Y/N sat on the edge of his bed, knees drawn up to her chest, her oversized hoodie slipping off one shoulder. Jungwon leaned against the wall across from her, arms crossed, jaw clenched. The dim bedside lamp cast a warm glow on her cheeks, making her look even softer than usual. Neither of them spoke. They didn’t have to. The bond was already throbbing—subtle at first, then stronger. A slow ache. A pull under their ribs, like a string that had been stretched too tight. Jungwon could feel her heartbeat. It fluttered. Hesitated. Matched his. Then broke away again like it was afraid of being caught. Come closer, the bond whispered. He didn’t move. He couldn’t. Because if he did… he wasn’t sure what he’d do. They had touched earlier—just a casual brush of fingers when he handed her a drink. But that one second of skin-on-skin had nearly knocked him over.
A wave of golden heat had surged through him. Like warm honey poured through every vein. Like need. And she had flinched. Not in fear. But in… overwhelm. “Does it always feel this strong?” she had whispered, earlier that day. “Only when I want you this much,” he’d almost said. He didn’t. And now here they were. Tense. Breathless. Wanting. But not touching. That’s the problem, the bond growled now. You keep holding back. Jungwon ran a hand through his hair. He knew this wasn’t sustainable. The bond was evolving, growing deeper, hungrier. What had started as warm comfort had turned into burning friction. The kind that rubbed against their skin all day, making them restless. Snappy. Dizzy. And denying it only made it worse. It was like edging. Emotionally. Spiritually. Physically. He could feel her thigh resting against the mattress. Could feel the heat of her skin from several feet away. Every time she shifted, his pulse spiked. And she was feeling it too—he could tell. Y/N hadn’t looked at him properly all night. Her eyes kept flicking away. Her lip was between her teeth. Her breathing was shallow. It was torture. He finally spoke. Voice low. “You should sleep.” She nodded. But didn’t move. Then, after a beat: “Do you ever… feel like the bond is mad at us?” He swallowed. “I feel like it’s frustrated.” She looked up at him. “Why?” He hesitated. Then shrugged. “Because we keep acting like this is normal. Like we don’t… want it.”
The word dropped like a stone between them. Y/N didn’t respond. But her fingers tightened on the bedsheet. The bond surged. Touch her. Kiss her. Let go. He clenched his fists. But then she yawned. And he took the excuse to back away—muttering a soft, “Good night,” before slipping into the adjoining room and closing the door. He didn’t sleep. Neither did she. And the bond? It coiled in both of their chests like a storm waiting to burst. That was the real reason the performance the next day had been unbearable. Because neither of them had let themselves have what the bond was begging for: Proximity. Intimacy. Touch. Release.
It started as a whisper.
A soft, golden ache under Jungwon’s skin. A gentle tug at his chest when he thought of her, as if an invisible thread was being pulled tight around his heart.
At first, he’d told himself it was normal. The doctors had said so many times — the bond stabilizes, it calms down over time, you’ll adjust. He had believed them. Wanted to believe them. But what no one told him was that some bonds never "calm down." Some bonds grow wilder the longer they are denied.
And Jungwon had been denying himself.
Ever since that night when he almost kissed her — when they had watched that movie, when her small gasp had echoed in his ear, when her knuckles under his thumb had felt like a live wire — Jungwon had been holding back. He’d convinced himself it was for her. That he didn’t want to push her into something she wasn’t ready for. That if he gave in to this constant urge, he’d scare her away.
But it wasn’t just for her. It was also for him. Because the idea of surrendering, of completely losing himself in that connection, terrified him almost as much as he craved it.
So, he trained. He worked. He kept his touches minimal — hand holding, a shy brush of knees, fleeting contact at night when they slept back-to-back because neither could sleep without at least that much.
But the bond was never satisfied.
He could feel it every day now: the phantom warmth of her thigh against his, the ghost of her fingers on his neck. When she laughed with Jake in the kitchen, he felt a possessive ache so deep it almost made him dizzy. When she wore his shirt, oblivious to the way it swallowed her frame, he had to excuse himself to splash cold water on his face.
It was torture.
Delicious, dizzying torture.
And then the Japan schedule happened
.---
HYBE thought they were ready.
The company’s wellness team had monitored their vitals for weeks — heart rate, bond energy flux, cellular regeneration data. On paper, it looked stable. They had been able to spend a few hours apart before without a problem. They had gone on schedules in separate rooms for half-days.
They’ll be fine, the doctors had said. They’ll miss each other, but it won’t harm them.
Y/N had believed it too.
She had been offered a chance to visit her family during those four or five days — a rare opportunity after so long living in the dorm, after months of fusing her existence to Jungwon’s. She had been hesitant at first. But he’d encouraged her, with that gentle, leader-like smile of his.
"Go see them," Jungwon had whispered, thumb brushing over her knuckles in that way that always made her shiver. "I’ll be okay. Promise."
Liar.
---
The day he left for Japan, it already felt wrong.
At the airport, their hands were intertwined so tightly the manager had to pry them apart to get him through security. Y/N’s fingers were trembling.
"Text me," she whispered.
He pressed his forehead to hers, eyes squeezed shut, pulse erratic. "Always."
But the moment he turned to leave, he felt it — a sharp pang in his chest, like a needle slipping straight through his ribs. His breath hitched. He told himself it was nerves. The XO solo stage was huge — his first big solo performance at MAMA. But deep down, he knew it wasn’t just that.
Y/N watched him go, hand pressed flat over her own heart, as if trying to hold something inside. She tried to breathe normally. Tried to smile.
But as soon as he disappeared beyond the gate, she felt it too.
A hollow echo in her bones. Like someone had scooped her insides out and leftonly the thinnest golden thread behind.
---
In the hotel room in Japan, Jungwon sat on the edge of the bed, staring at his trembling hands.
It had been three hours since landing. Already, his fingers felt numb.
He kept replaying every touch in his head — the way her breath caught when he brushed her knuckles, the way her eyes fluttered closed when his knee bumped hers under the dinner table.
God, he missed her.
But he also felt her.
When she woke up the next morning and stretched lazily, he felt the warmth ripple down his spine. When she laughed with her friend over breakfast, he felt a flush climb up his own neck, even if he was alone in his room.
It was like she was inside him. Like every pulse of her blood was echoing through his own veins.
At first, he tried to channel it into rehearsal. He threw himself into each count, each turn, each breath, trying to sweat out the restless energy. But it wasn’t enough.
The more he pushed, the more the bond pushed back.
Back home, Y/N struggled too.
She tried to focus on her family — on the food she had missed, the hugs, the warmth. But every bite felt bland. Every conversation felt distant. Every moment without him felt like she was living underwater, her ears filled with cotton, her heart dragging painfully with each beat.
One night, she tried to sleep alone.
The moment her head hit the pillow, she felt it — an ache so sharp she curled in on herself, fingers clawing at the sheets. Her chest burned. Her throat went dry.
Jungwon…
The bond pulsed, desperate.
On the second night, she curled up on the living room couch, pretending she was leaning against him, hoping the phantom shape would be enough. It wasn’t.
In Japan, Jungwon was no better.
During dance practice, he collapsed mid-step, legs folding under him like paper.
The staff panicked. They called in the emergency med team.
His vitals were unstable — erratic heart rate, cold sweats, borderline shock symptoms. But when they asked if he needed to be rushed to a hospital, he refused.
"I’ll be fine," he gasped out, jaw clenched so hard he tasted blood. "Just… need her."
It wasn’t even about surviving the bond anymore. It was about surviving his own desire for her. His body, his soul — all of it was starving for her.
The next day, he texted her.
> "I miss you. It hurts."
"I feel you everywhere."
"Please come back soon."
Y/N’s hands shook around her phone. She typed, erased, typed again.
> "I feel you too. I want to come. I really do. But they said it’s okay… they said we can do this."
He didn’t reply after that.
Because he was slipping.
That night, he sat alone in his hotel room. The city lights blinked below him, pink and blue neon washing over his skin.
He pressed his palm to his chest, feeling the wild rhythm of his heart.
Every beat felt wrong. Off tempo. Too shallow.
When he closed his eyes, he saw her — the way she looked at him when he danced, the way her lips parted when he so much as rolled his hips. He felt her pulse, her ache, her restless, desperate need to be near him.
He could practically feel her thighs pressed together, the way her breath caught whenever he traced his finger down his own chest in the mirror.
He almost moaned aloud.
And that’s when he realized — the bond wasn’t stable.It was volatile. Starving. Begging to be fed, to be touched, to be accepted.And they had been denying it. Denying themselves.Jungwon barely slept that night.
He lay in bed, sweat cooling on his skin, every muscle aching. The hotel room was too quiet. The sheets too cold. And the bond—God, the bond was raging under his skin like a wildfire.
He could feel her tossing and turning miles away. Could feel her hand reaching for the empty side of her bed, her breath catching in the dark.
Every time she shivered, he felt it like a knife down his spine. Every time she clenched her fist, he felt his own fingers twitch, aching to hold her.
He tried breathing exercises. Tried to focus on the hum of the city beyond his window. But his mind kept drifting back to her.
The way she looked at him.The flush on her cheeks when his hand brushed hers.The softness in her eyes when she called his name, just above a whisper, like it was a prayer.And underneath it all—there was a hunger.
A craving so deep it felt like it was clawing at his ribs from the inside.
By morning, he looked like a ghost.When the manager knocked, Jungwon dragged himself to the door, head spinning.
"Hyung…" His voice cracked.
The manager’s face fell.
"You okay?"Jungwon forced a weak smile.
"Just… tired."
"You look like you’re about to collapse."He wanted to say I already did. But instead, he nodded and stepped back so they could enter.The stylist fussed over him while he sat on the edge of the bed, unblinking. They tried to chat—small jokes about the schedule, the afterparty, the new stage outfit—but he barely heard them.
All he heard was her.
I miss you… please come back… please…
It wasn’t her actual voice, but it might as well have been. The bond translated her longing into something louder than any words.When they pressed foundation onto his cheeks, he shivered.
Too cold.
Too clinical.
Not her.
----
During rehearsal at the MAMA venue, he nearly collapsed again.They caught him before he hit the floor.
"Hyung, please," he rasped, gripping the dance captain’s wrist like a lifeline.
"Please… I need… I can’t…"
They carried him backstage, gave him water, fanned his face.
But nothing helped.
Because he didn’t need water.He needed her.
--
The producers came rushing in, panicking.
"Do we cancel? We can’t cancel—he’s the center!"Jungwon heard their frantic voices through the fog.
His vision pulsed black at the edges.He felt her panic, too—far away, her fear like a tidal wave crashing into his chest. She knew something was wrong.And that only made it worse.He curled forward on the couch, sweat dripping from his hairline, breathing ragged.
"Let me perform," he gasped.
"Please—let me just… do it."
"But—""I can’t stop now. Let me at least feel her through this."They hesitated.
Finally, the stage director sighed, rubbing his forehead.
"If you think you can make it…"
"I can," he said. "I have to."
---
Back in her room, Y/N felt her heart lurch so violently she doubled over.She clawed at the sheets, trying to breathe.
Jungwon… Jungwon… please…
She called his phone. It rang and rang. No answer.She texted. No reply.
A thousand miles away, she felt him slipping, felt his blood pounding like a warning drum in her own ears.She had no way to get on a plane in time.
No way to reach him.All she could do was cling to the tether inside her—golden, frayed, burning.
---
Jungwon stood in the wings, head bowed.They zipped up his final stage jacket, fixed his in-ears. His fingers twitched at his sides like he wanted to tear the whole outfit off.
Like he needed skin-to-skin contact so badly he was shaking.
The MC introduced him.
A thunder of screams.He stepped forward.One foot in front of the other.He felt her breath hitch in her throat.
Felt her knees go weak as if she might collapse.
His lips parted.
The beat began.
And the world dissolved.
So when Jungwon stepped onto the “XO” stage under the pink moon lighting and felt her watching him? The bond snapped the leash.
And nothing—not even choreography or professionalism—could stop the raw desire pulsing between them. He didn’t know how he was still standing. The moment he stepped on stage, his heartbeat wasn’t syncing to the beat of the music—it was syncing to her. Y/N.
Y/n she will be watching me through the screen. This performance is live.
He couldn’t see her, but he felt her—like a string threaded straight from his ribs to hers, tugging with every breath she took. And the bond? The bond was losing its goddamn mind. As the music started—deep, heavy bass vibrating through the floor—he felt her pulse spike.
A quick, surprised jolt of something electric shot through him. Desire. Longing. Need. His hand twitched by his side. He closed his eyes for a beat too long on the first count—already breathless, already dizzy. Because she was watching him. Feeling him. And through the bond, he could feel her feeling him. Her fascination. Her barely-contained thoughts. Her legs shifting, thighs clenching, mouth parting— Jungwon nearly missed a step. Focus.
You’ve done this routine a hundred times. But it didn’t matter. Because this wasn’t like rehearsal. This was for her. And the tether between them was burning golden in his chest, thrumming through his nerves like he was being touched from the inside out.
Every beat of the music was her heartbeat. Every sway of his hips was for her. When he brushed his hand down his chest in the choreo, he felt her chest stutter. When he tilted his head back, lips parted, he felt the jolt in her stomach like it was his own. God, she wanted him. And that thought? It destroyed him. He closed his eyes again during the second verse—just to catch his breath. Just to rein it in. But even that didn’t help. Behind his lids, all he saw was her. Pink moonlight behind her. Hands clenched in her lap. Eyes wide. Bottom lip trembling. Flushed. Wrecked. And he hadn't even touched her. If just dancing does this to her… what the hell will happen when I finally kiss her?
A dangerous shiver ran down his spine mid-routine. He almost groaned aloud at how good it felt—how addictive this tether was when she was overwhelmed by him.His body kept moving—hips grinding to the slow beat, shirt sticking to his chest with sweat—but his thoughts weren’t on the steps.They were on her thighs. Her breath. The way the air around her thickened with every roll of his body.She was aching.So was he.It was torture. Pure, sinful, soul-binding torture.And he loved it.By the time the final chorus hit, and he stood under the blush-tinted stage lights, shirt damp, body trembling, gaze sharp and hungry—Jungwon knew.He needed her.Not just for bonding. Not for the soulmate link. Not even just for comfort.He needed her breathless under him, voice shaking, fingers digging into his shoulders as he finally gave in.
> Touch me, Jungwon, her thoughts whispered through the bond.He almost moaned.
But the lights dropped before he could fall to his knees.And he exhaled. Sharp. Shaky. Done.When the performance ended, he stood still on stage.Panting.Heart thundering.Chest aching.Because if that was just a performance…What would happen when they finally gave in?When he got to feel all of her?He wasn’t sure he’d survive it.And he didn’t care.
When the final note crashed and the stage lights cut out, Jungwon stood frozen.Chest heaving.Vision blurry.Hands trembling so violently he could barely make a fist.The audience’s cheers sounded far away, like echoes in a cave.In his mind, there was only her.
Her pulse. Her scent. Her warmth.
A staff member rushed forward to drape a towel around his shoulders.But he flinched away violently, nearly falling backward."Don’t—!" he rasped.They froze.He stumbled offstage, every step labored. His entire body felt hollow, like someone had scooped out his insides and filled them with liquid gold that burned too hot.He reached the dressing room and collapsed onto the floor, knees crashing to the cold tiles.
"Y/N," he sobbed, forehead pressing into the towel.
"I can’t—please—"His nails dug into the floor, shoulders shaking.He felt her panic spike again.
Like her soul was screaming inside his.And for the first time since they bonded, Jungwon thought he might actually die.
------
In her bedroom, Y/N fell to her knees too.Tears blurred her vision. She clawed at her own chest, gasping.
She could see his stage in her mind’s eye—see him trembling, hear the roar of the crowd.
But all she could feel was his pain. His desperation. His hollow, breaking heart.
---
The manager came into the dressing room and saw Jungwon crumpled on the ground, half-conscious.
"Call her," he shouted to an assistant.
"Get her on a plane—now!"
"But she’s—"
"NOW!"
Another staffer grabbed Jungwon, shaking his shoulders.
"Stay awake, Jungwon! Stay with us!"His lips moved soundlessly.
Y/N…
---
A continent away, Y/N curled forward, rocking.She heard his voice. Not through a call. Not through a text.But through the bond, raw and unfiltered, echoing in her bones.
Please… come…
Her entire body convulsed with a shiver.
"I’m coming,"
she sobbed into her hands.
"I’m coming—just hold on!"
---
Jungwon’s eyes fluttered shut.His fingers twitched weakly against the floor.
Then nothing.
—
Jungwon’s limp body crumpled against the cold tile floor of the dressing room, his head lolling sideways, eyes barely open.A staff member dropped the oxygen tank in pure panic, hands shaking too violently to catch it.
Another was screaming into a phone, voice raw.
“WE NEED THE AMBULANCE NOW! HE’S NOT BREATHING RIGHT! PLEASE—”
A heavy, suffocating silence wrapped around him between the shouted instructions and the shrill beeps of the monitor.
But in that silence, he felt her.
Y/N.
He felt her terror flooding his veins, crashing against his own weak pulse like a wave against a crumbling cliff.Her fear was so loud he could barely think — so loud it swallowed everything else.
He wanted to reach for her.
To touch her one last time.
To tell her—It’s okay.
You don’t have to be scared.
I’m right here.
But his throat wouldn’t work. His lips wouldn’t move.The warmth in his fingers was gone first. Then his wrists. Then his arms.
Y/N…
His mind called out for her, over and over, like a child lost in the dark.
---
Across the ocean, Y/N stumbled through the airport corridor, vision spinning.Security guards shouted behind her, but all she could hear was her own heartbeat slamming in her ears — and his.
Every echo of his pain tore her open from the inside.It felt like a knife twisting deeper with every step.
Hold on. Please hold on. I’m coming. I’m coming.
Her suitcase crashed to the floor, forgotten. She pushed past uniformed guards, ignoring the hands grabbing at her arms.Nothing mattered except him.
---
Back in the dressing room, a medic jammed an oxygen mask over Jungwon’s face, barking orders that no one could hear through the chaos.His head lolled backwards, lips blue.A tear slipped from his lashes, streaking down the side of his pale cheek.
Y/N…
In his mind, he saw flashes — her laugh, her sleepy eyes in the morning, her small hands in his.He saw her sitting across from him, chewing her lip when she was nervous. He heard her humming while she folded his hoodie.And somewhere deep, deep in that flickering bond — he felt her final desperate thought slam into him like a tidal wave.
I can’t lose you. I can’t. I won’t survive without you.
---
He tried to inhale, but nothing came. His chest stuttered, then fell.The monitor screamed — a long, endless, shrill note.The medic’s hands flew to his chest, pressing down.
“COME ON! WAKE UP! BREATHE, DAMN IT!”
---
Y/N fell forward in the airport van, retching so violently her entire body shook.Her fingers clawed at her throat as though she could physically rip the pain out.A security officer tried to help her up, but she only screamed, voice raw and feral.
A staff member fell to their knees, sobbing into their hands. Another turned away, sliding down the wall, face buried in trembling arms
.---
Y/N stumbled out of the van when it screeched to a stop at the venue.Her knees hit the concrete so hard she nearly collapsed fully.
But she didn’t stop.
She crawled, stumbled, pushed herself forward on pure adrenaline and grief.
Past the glass doors. Down the maze of sterile hallways. Through endless fluorescent lights.Her heart felt like it was being shredded from the inside out. Every nerve in her body screamed for him.Hold on.
Please… just one more minute…
---
Then she saw him.
Jungwon — lifeless on the floor.
The paramedics bent over him. The monitor blaring that horrible, endless beep.Her lungs emptied in a single, strangled sob
.---
“NO!” she shrieked, lurching forward.A security guard tried to hold her back, but she tore free, nails scraping across the floor as she crawled to him.She barely registered someone shouting, “LET HER THROUGH! SHE’S THE SOULMATE!”
She crashed beside him, her shaking hands hovering over his ashen face.
“Jungwon… please… wake up… I’m here, I’m here—”
She pressed her forehead to his, sobbing so hard her entire spine arched.Then she touched his face.And the bond roared back to life.A golden shock wave slammed into both of them so violently Jungwon’s back arched off the floor, mouth parting in a silent scream.The defibrillator beeped.
A pulse returned.
---
His eyelids fluttered open, hazy and glassy.His dry lips moved, forming her name like a fragile prayer.
“Y…N…”
She pressed her forehead harder against his, tears dripping onto his cheeks.
“Don’t go. Don’t you dare go. You promised. You promised you wouldn’t leave me—”
His hand, trembling like a dying star, found her wrist.He pulled weakly, just enough to keep her close.
“Never… leave… you…” he rasped, voice so broken it barely sounded human.
She let out a sob so deep it echoed against the walls.“I’m here. I’m right here. I won’t leave. I swear—”
---
The paramedics hovered, stunned, watching the golden glow pulse between them.A hush fell over the entire hallway.For a moment — just a moment — it looked like he might be okay.Then his eyes rolled back.
---
“Jungwon?!” she screamed, slapping his cheek lightly.His grip on her wrist loosened.The monitor beeped wildly, erratic and chaotic.His head fell to the side.His lips parted, a tiny final exhale slipping out.
The bond flickered — that warm, golden tether that had always felt like a heartbeat in her chest — and splintered into static.
---
She screamed again, an animal sound.A medic lunged forward.
“WE’RE LOSING HIM! MOVE!”
They started frantic compressions again.But Y/N just held his face in her hands, forehead still pressed to his.
“I love you. Please don’t leave me. Please. Please—”
Another shock ran through his chest.She didn’t move. Didn’t breathe.Because in that final moment —
She felt it.
The last, fading flicker of him.
That warmth he always gave her.
The sunshine in his laugh.
The gentle weight of his hand.
Gone.
---
And that’s how they found him—
Jungwon.
Beloved leader.
Golden boy.
The heartbeat of a thousand people.
Lying motionless, a golden mark fading from his wrist.
A girl with her forehead pressed to his, screaming into the void.
That’s how they found him—
Dying.
Masterlist Part 1
200 likes for part 3!
How was it? Do you want Part 3??
a/n: I was crying as fuck when i wrote this! Did I manage to make you cry? Plz tell me!!😭
SYN ── arrogant, cocky, and full of confidence, "no, i don't even like you a little bit", hyung line!enha x fmr, enemies to lovers(?), cursing
HEESEUNG (희승)
star basketball player x top student
there's just something so seemingly infuriating about lee heeseung to you.
maybe it was the way he treated life so easily, breezing through it without a care in the world.
or maybe it was infuriating confidence. that was definitely what it was, because watching him strut over to you in his sweaty basketball uniform makes you furious.
"you're wearing red, " he grins.
"so?" you deadpan.
"red's my favorite color," he laughs, "you know, for someone who says they hate me, you seem to be real obsessed with me,"
"not a shot lee," you spit.
"c'mon, you don't even like me just a little bit?"
"no," you glare, "not even a little bit,"
JAY (제이)
rich guy x regular girl
jay park is everything you hate in a person.
arrogant, rude, and born with a silver spoon in his mouth.
you had worked your ass off to get to this event, yet of course he was here, tailored suit, slicked hair, and surrounded by the highest class of people.
"i'm surprised to see you here," you don't spare him a glance, swirling your drink around.
you roll your eyes at him, setting the drink down, "thanks for the tip jay, but i can handle myself,”
"you sure about that? have you ever even tasted something that pricey?”
"leave me alone already jay,” you hiss, glaring at him. without warning, he pulls you into him, his hand on your back that is left backless by your dress. he brings his face closer to you, your lips almost touching.
“if you really want a taste, just let me know, hm?”
“you’re fucking full of yourself!" you exclaim, shoving him away from you.
“then why’d you lean in? like me a little bit yn?”
JAKE (제이크)
academic rivals competing for the top
"what'd you get?" jake asks, pulling a chair and sitting down.
"who gave you permission to sit here, sim?" you ask, narrowing your eyes. he smiles cheekily back at you.
" real hostile yn, is that your test?" he smirks, pointing at the paper resting on your desk. he grabs the paper, and you scramble to get it back from him, lunging over your desk. but it's too late because he's already flipping it over to scan over your score.
"woah yn," he says, "what happened here? need some lessons?"
"i don't need anything but for you to leave me the hell alone," you seethe, finally getting your paper back. he laughs.
"well if you ever need lessons, let me know," he stands up from his chair, "i'd say i'm a pretty good teacher,"
"fuck off sim,"
"i'll even give them to you for free," he leans in closer, "a gift to my favorite girl,"
SUNGHOON (성훈)
hockey player x figure skater
park sunghoon is devastatingly handsome.
too bad he is also a devastatingly big pain in your ass. as a figure skater, and him being a hockey player the two of you were bound to meet atleast a couple times at the rink.
"funny seeing you here," sunghoon smiles, leaning on the edge of the ice rink, his toothy grin making your blood boil.
"i don't have time for you today," you shoot back, "i need to practice so leave me be,"
"i don't think i can do that," sunghoon teases.
"god you're insufferable,"
"don't say such cold words, princess,"
"i told you to leave," sunghoon raises his arms in retreat, shrugging his shoulders, before he smiles again.
"well then i'll be around in case you slip and fall," he says, "make sure to not fall for me though,"
"in your dreams park, i'd never fall for a prick like you, not even a little bit,"
Please do not buy tickets to the WALK THE LINE tour.
Enhypen don’t deserve just a month break. They deserve a long, relaxing break. They deserve to be treated like human beings, they deserve to relax, to not be disoriented by a new time zone every other hour, to not sigh when they have to travel another day.
They deserve to breathe, to relax, to sleep, Enhypen are human beings, please, belift, just let them rest.
I think a lot about the members, those who have hurt themselves performing to the best of their abilities for ENGENES, but why can’t we try harder to vouch for a long break of relaxation? How come they try so much for us but we won’t even try for them?
I think about how Jay has exhausted himself constantly because he wanted to be there for the concerts despite physically exhausting himself.
I think about Jake who can barely open his eyes during concerts because despite his tiredness he wants to see engenes.
I think about Heeseung, who gets hate for being exhausted, being told he’s lazy because he cannot afford to extort any more energy towards his dances because he’s that tired.
Jungwon, Sunoo and Sunghoon who’s staying strong for the rest of their members, trying their best to keep the energy up as the other members try to catch their energy.
And Ni-ki, who’s the same age as me, who’s been mentally challenged during the tour, where he’s stated openly how tired he is. He’s the same age as me, I’m out enjoying myself, hanging with friends, finding new opportunities for me to grow as a person.
I get to relax, to sleep in as much as I want, to have the ability to snooze through my alarms and do nothing for the entire day and just relax.
He can’t do that, he’s working tirelessly. He’s only a teen like I am, how could I sit here and just let them do that?
Please, boycott the tour, don’t contribute to it, do not promote it, pay no mind, and pressure belift into a longer break.
They don’t deserve just a month, they deserve longer.
Boycott the Tour. If you call yourself an ENGENE, have a human heart, or just an ounce of compassion, boycott WALK THE LINE.
there’s absolutely zero explanation as to why belift would actually send enhypen to another tour when fate plus (which was ALREADY a very unnecessary tour) ended not even 24 hours.
i genuinely can’t seem to wrap my head around this entire situation because there’s no sane company that would overwork their own artists like this. not when they’re sick. not when they can’t even properly perform and give it their all. not when they themselves have spoken about how draining and tiring these past two years have been for them.
it’s so absurd. so weird and so wrong of belift to send them on a tour ignoring engenes protests. to ignore the trending tags and all the protest trucks. it’s insane because when this was related to female dancers belift didn’t waste a single second and removed them. but when it comes to their artists’ fucking HEALTHS they turn blind to everything.
enhypen’s treatment right now is so ridiculously inhumane. they’ve been on tour with consistent comebacks in between for the past two years. they’ve already had concerts in japan recently with fate & fate+ there’s genuinely NO NEED for them to have a ‘japan world tour’ after fate+. there’s no other explanation to this other than belift being money hungry.
to think that enha will be wrapped up in another tour with possible comeback schedule along with award show performances & practices is just so crazy. i can’t even imagine how cramped their schedule already is and it’s only about to become worse.
please for the love of everything if enhypen are coming anywhere near your vicinity with this tour (that will hopefully get cancelled) please don’t GO! please boycott. please let this be more reasons for you to boycott everything related to enhypen, belift and hybe.
please give enhypen a fucking break. trend this on twitter. post on twitter with the hashtags. reblog every tumblr post related to this. trend the hashtags everywhere. repost the posts asking for a break on twitter. please please please boycott i beg the boys don’t deserve this they genuinely don’t.
haven’t seen lots of awareness brought to this in enhablr yet but i really wish all engenes could also post about & talk about the mistreatment they’re getting from belift. the way they haven’t had not even five days of rest the past two years is so concerning. the way the members’ healths are getting worse is so terrifying. they’re all so horrendously overworked and exhausted. we all saw jay’s injury and how they STILL made him perform despite the fact that his knee was injured. and now he’s on a hiatus that probably won’t even last that long considering how greedy their company is.
jake had to sit out from two different stages in their most recent concert and couldn’t even open his eyes when he was present for the other stages. heeseung can’t even properly perform with how overworked and exhausted he is. riki even spoke out about fainting in his weverse (whether it was a mistranslation or joke or not) this is all so terrifying. it’s so concerning because every engene knows how much enha love music & how much they love performing and having concerts for their fans.
their schedules for the past two years have literally been inhumane. comeback after comeback. tour after tour. event after event. concert after concert. belift is treating the members like they’re literal robots and the only people that can actually stop this is engenes themselves the longer you demand for a rest for the boys for no more comebacks and even boycott the higher of a chance enha will have a BREAK.
so please as an engene SPEAK OUT. repost reblog on here on every platform retweet on X share posts on tumblr use hashtags do whatever you can in your power for enha because it’s so clear they don’t have anyone else but us engenes when their own company is treating them like this.
mind you. they’re planning on making enhypen have another comeback at the final quarter of this year. AGAIN.
LET ENHYPEN REST ‼️
tagging a few moots: @intromortal @heeslomll @ak4e7a @enha-stars @venomhee @sjyfave @alvojake @hollyoongs @yzzyhee @ja3yun @jaylaxies @hoondrop @fakeuwus
to all aroha's and anyone affected by the moonbin news: please be aware that the next couple of days will probably be very intense. take care of yourself, and check on your friends.
and please know that even though you didn't know him personally, it's okay to be upset, it's okay to be grieving. take your time. and despite what people will tell you, it's okay to be worrying about the idols who were friends with him.
in light of moonbin's passing- it's okay if you distract yourself. it's okay if for awhile you just pretend like it didn't or isn't happening. you're not a bad person if you laugh at something else after hearing the news or smile or feel other feelings.
at the same time if you feel like you're wallowing in grief, that's okay too. it's a complicated process. it's hard to understand. all i know is that he'll be missed a lot.
I’m not familiar with the group but I just wanna say I’m so sorry for the fans and even more so his family, friends and members. I also wanna say, do not feel silly if you are upset. You are allowed to grieve people that you don’t know personally. Whenever stuff like this happens, there are shitty people who go out of their way to try and make people feel stupid for reacting. Ignore them. Again, you are allowed to grieve for people you don’t know personally, there’s nothing silly about that.
yousharknotpass
gummygunk
theartofmadeline
vaporwave
stormborns
