singledad!jongseong Ă kindergartenteacher!femreader.â â â â ââŽïžËïœĄââ â â somewhere between school pick-ups, tiny crayon drawings and a little girl's invisible strings, Jay found himself falling for his precious daughter's favourite person too.
jay obviously has been hearing about this new teacher from his daughter for months, and it was starting to get a little jarring for him especially because he doesn't seem to understand why. was she THAT pretty? THAT nice?
well today answered that for him for sure.
i-rae was definitely his daughter, because he had spent his day in the office daydreaming about the way you had spoken to i-rae so gently, the way the edges of your eyes crinkled as you smiled.
today jay had barely buckled i-rae into the car seat before she started her daily chatter.
"appa!" she exclaimed.
jay hums back as he tightened her seat belt snugly. "hm?"
"did you know dinosaurs live in suwon?"
he closed the car door softly before sliding into his drivers seat and glancing at the rearview mirror to reply. "...they..do?"
"that's what seungcheol said!"
"i see."
"but teacher y/n said they don't!"
jay refocused his attention to the road as he pulled out of the parking lot. a small smile appeared on his face, replying "teacher y/n is probably right."
i-rae gasps. "teacher y/n said that too!"
time flew as jay drove them home, the radio silent and i-rae's voice filling the space in the cool volvo. he was very grateful for i-rae and her chatter. it made him laugh. that was rare.
because somewhere between being a father, losing his wife, running a company, managing employees and trying to keep his life together, laughter wasn't something he had space for.
after piling out of the car and showering, jay had set i-rae in her seat at the dining table and was starting dinner. you'd think she'd had spent all of her energy talking about what happened at school already. she wasn't done at all.
in fact she had gotten into a topic that jay was happy to listen to. teacher y/n.
"appa, did you know teacher y/n also likes hello kitty?" i-rae rambles as she fiddled with her hello kitty sticker book that, jake and sunghoon, his college friends had gotten her.
"oh really?" jay listens as he stirs the pot. "what else does she like?"
i-rae's face contorted as she started thinking. "she likes the colour pink!"
he hums along smiling to himself.
"and cats."
"oh iced coffee!"
he blinked. "and how do you know that?"
"teacher y/n has a sippy cup of coffee everyday!"
while i-rae continues chatting away about teacher y/n, jay found himself daydreaming. an image suddenly rolled up.
your sleeves rolled up, hair that fell out of your bun framing your face, glitter stickers stuck to your apron. a face that always seem to have a smile. the laugh you'd let out when i-rae shows off her new stickerbook every monday.
jay was obviously drifting away. "appa?!"
he shook himself out of it and glanced back at i-rae. "yes sweetheart?"
"are you even listening to me?!" she frowned.
turning off the stove he covered the pot and walked over. "yes i am."
she stared at her dad intensely. "teacher y/n's pretty right?"
well you're not just pretty, you were the prettiest thing he had ever laid his eyes on, well aside from his little girl.
hello to all my dearly beloved readers of invisible string,
i understand ive disappeared for very long, i'm here to share that im still here but not very well. ive been sick along with very busy schedules at work that's been making it hard for me to find time to write and post.
am trying my best to recover and get back on track with invisible string, and i ask everyone to please wait for the return of jay/n, with the utmost authenticity of the role in the childcare industry as i am one myself.
i love you all and i can't wait to get back to ee-rae, jay and y/n and all of you soon.
đąđđđđ âž and everything that's funny, i wish i could tell to him / and sometimes, at a low point, i even wish for a tragedy / cause i know hĐ”'d come over and take rĐ”al good care of me / but that's just a thing that happens when my baby goes away
synopsis after yn lies to her trusting, sweet boyfriend, jay and ends up in a terrifying late-night encounter with three drunk men, he completely breaks. when he raises the question of breaking up, yn's world instantly shatters.
pairing neighbour boyfriend! jay x fem! reader
genre angst, hurt, comfort
word count 12.9k (i swear this was just supposed to be 2k...)
warnings mentions of bruising, yn getting hurt, catcalling, harassment. implications of jay having gotten into a fight earlier and a bruised hand. yn is fucking stupid but she has #real problems.
nessie note Hi.. so it's been a hot minute since i've written something so long but i had a spur of inspiration while listening to ms. rodrigo's new album (everyone go cry to it like YEST!!!) and oh my god.... i'm not kidding but this rlly hit a little close than usual HAHAHAH. i may have lowkeyuninely cried while writing the argument because she's so real (and stupid). ANYWAY. i hope i write again soon and until then, i hope you cuties enjoy this and do let me know whose side you have in the fights :p happy reading !!
the silence of the night was absolute, broken only by the rhythmic clicking of ynâs boots against the cold pavement.
this had been her reality for the entire week. a sudden surge in late night project deadlines had forced her into a grueling schedule, leaving her to commute back to the apartment complex at hours when most of the city was fast asleep. and every single night, she kept it a closely guarded secret from jay.
she knew exactly how he would react if he found out. he would immediately drop whatever he was doing, argue with her and fiercely insist on driving down to pick her up, no matter how exhausted he was from his own corporate workload. honestly, she just didn't want the hassle. the thought of him losing sleep just to play chauffeur made her chest tighten with guilt. plus, she had been trying to convince herself that the twenty-minute walk from the subway station was a good way to get her daily steps in.
but as she stepped out of the station's brightly lit exit and into the chilly night air, jayâs warnings about the sketchy neighborhood echoed in the back of her mind. he was right. at this hour, the streets looked entirely differentâdarker, emptier and far more unpredictable.
pulling out her phone, the screen illuminated her face, displaying the time: 2:17 am. right at the top of her lock screen sat a string of text messages from jay, delivered just five minutes ago.
from seongie đââŹ
just finished reviewing my presentation for tomm (i hate work)
heading to bed soon baby
uâre asleep, right? ness said ur light was out
i love you
text me when uâre up â€ïžâ€ïž
yn let out a heavy, guilty sigh. she had asked ness to lie for her, telling the guys she was already asleep in her room just to avoid jay checking up on her. shoving the unanswered phone deep into her coat pocket, she wrapped her scarf tighter around her neck and started walking, her pace fast and deliberate.
she tried to hum a cheerful tune to break the oppressive silence but her voice sounded small and fragile against the vast emptiness of the street. there wasn't a single soul around. not a passing car, not even a stray cat. tonight, the shadows stretching from the alleyways felt heavier, casting an eerie, suffocating blanket over the neighborhood.
suddenly, a loud, piercing vibration shattered the quiet.
yn gasped, her heart leaping straight into her throat as she practically jumped out of her skin. fumbling in her pocket, she pulled out her phone. the caller id flashed with a familiar name: ms. jennifer (wife).
with a massive sigh of relief, she swiped the screen and brought the phone to her ear. "oh my god, jen. you scared the absolute life out of me."
"serves you right," jenâs voice cracked through the speaker, sharp and laced with immediate exasperation. "where are you right now? don't lie to me, yn. i just walked past your bedroom and it's completely empty. ness told me what you two are pulling."
"i just left the station," yn admitted, lowering her voice as she passed a dimly lit convenience store that had already closed its shutters. "look, can you just stay on the call with me until i hit the main street? itâs... a little more eerie than usual out here tonight."
on the other end of the line, jen let out a long, heavy sigh that vibrated with deep frustration. "i'm staying on the line, obviously. but i am seriously losing my mind with you. i already yelled at you about this two days ago! walking that route alone at two in the morning is incredibly stupid, yn."
"i'm walking fast, jen, i'm fineâ"
"no, you're not fine! you're being stubborn," jen interrupted, her tone turning dead serious. "do you have any idea what jay would do if he found out you were doing this? especially after what happened last week? he literally fought a guy for just talking about you. if someone actually approached you in the dark because you wanted to 'get your steps in,' he would lose his absolute mind. you need to tell him, or i will."
yn swallowed hard, jen's words cutting through her defensive walls. she glanced over her shoulder, her eyes scanning the dimly lit sidewalk behind her. the streetlamps were spaced too far apart, leaving large patches of pitch blackness between them.
"i know, i know," yn whispered, picking up her pace until she was practically power walking. "i feel terrible about lying to him. i just didn't want him to worry. heâs been under so much stress at the office with his dad and his hand is still healing..."
"jay would rather drive you with two broken hands than have you walking alone past those abandoned warehouses," jen countered bluntly. "you're treating his protection like it's a burden, yn. it's not. he loves you. let him take care of you."
"i will. i promise, after tonight, iâll tell him the truth," yn said, her eyes locked onto the glowing intersection a block away. that was the main street. once she reached it, she would be under bright municipal lights and within sight of the apartment complex's security cameras.
but just as she passed a narrow gap between two brick buildings, the distinct sound of a loose plastic bottle shuffling against the asphalt echoed from the shadows.
yn froze for a fraction of a second, her breath catching in her throat.
"yn? what's wrong? why did you stop walking?" jenâs voice suddenly sounded sharp and alert on the phone.
"nothing," yn whispered frantically, her adrenaline spiking as she forced her legs to move even faster. "i think i just heard something. i'm almost at the corner. just keep talking to me, jen. please."
"i'm right here. i'm not hanging up. just keep moving, don't look back and get your butt across that main street right now," jen ordered, her voice firm and grounding.
yn didn't dare look behind her. she kept her eyes glued to the bright lights ahead, her heart hammering against her ribs like a trapped bird. the eerie quiet of the sketchy neighborhood had never felt so menacing and for the first time all week, the crushing weight of her stubbornness hit her full force. jay hadn't been exaggerating and he definitely hadn't been trying to control her. he just knew how dangerous the dark could be.
breaking into a light jog, she finally burst through the shadow line and onto the well-lit pavement of the main avenue. the familiar, towering structure of their apartment building loomed just a hundred yards away, safe and secure.
"i'm on the main street," yn breathed out, her voice trembling slightly as she leaned against a lamppost for a brief second to catch her breath. "i see the building."
"good," jen sighed, the immense relief clear in her voice. "get upstairs right now and tomorrow morning, you are sitting down with jay and telling him the truth. because if you don't, i'm dragging him over to our apartment myself."
"yeah, yeah, i'm practically at the front lobby now. i'll see you in two minutes, mom," yn chuckled breathlessly into the receiver, trying to laugh off the lingering adrenaline as she slipped through the secure glass doors of their apartment building.
"don't 'mom' me, yn! i'm serious," jen snapped, though her tone softened with residual relief. "tomorrow. you talk to him."
"i will, i will."
yn hung up, leaning her head against the cool mirror of the elevator. but the next morning, when she saw jay standing in his kitchen, bathed in the warm morning light while making her a perfect iced americano, the confession died in her throat. he looked so peaceful. he looked so happy just to hand her the cup, pull her in by the waist and press a soft kiss to her forehead.
"have a good day at work, baby," he had murmured, his voice deep and raspy from sleep. "text me about lunch later."
she couldn't bring herself to ruin that peace. so, she "forgot." and then she forgot the next day. and the day after that.
for the next few days, yn pushed her luck to the absolute limit. the deadlines at her firm grew more demanding, pushing her exit times further and further into the dead of night. every single night, ness covered her ass, sending text messages to jayâs roommate, sunghoon, like âynâs crashing early tonight, donât let the guys make too much noise in the living roomâ or âsheâs already asleep jay, sorry.â
and poor, trusting, sweet jay bought her and nessâ words without a single shred of suspicion. he loved her blindly, trusted her entirely. every night, his responses to her brief, pre-written texts were filled with absolute devotion:
from seongieđââŹ
sleep well, my girl
i love you so much
canât wait to see your face tomorrow
reading them made a heavy, suffocating weight of guilt settle in yn's stomach. she hated lying to him. she felt terrible for taking advantage of his gentle, trusting nature. but as the days passed and she made it home safely each time, a false sense of security wrapped around her. âiâm doing fine,â she reasoned with herself. âitâs just a few more days. no harm, no foul.â
until friday night.
it wasn't just lateâit was touching 2:56 am. by the time the metallic screech of the last subway train echoed through the deserted station. yn practically dragged herself off the car. her feet were throbbing, a deep, agonising ache radiating from her soles up to her calves after a grueling 14 hour shift.
stepping out onto the street, the air was bitterly cold. she pulled her coat tightly around her shoulders and walked briskly, her eyes fixed on the pavement. she didn't even have the energy to hum tonight. all she wanted was to crawl into her bed and let her comforter warmth melt the exhaustion away.
she was exactly four minutes away from the safety of the well-lit main street when she heard it.
loud, slurred laughter. the harsh, metallic clink of glass bottles colliding.
ynâs breath caught instantly in her throat. her boots struck a sudden, silent halt against the concrete and she froze, her entire body locking up in sheer terror.
about fifty yards ahead, right under the dim, flickering light of a broken streetlamp, stood three men. they were swaying on their feet, passing a bottle between them, their voices loud and aggressive as they shouted nonsensical jokes into the empty night. they blocked the sidewalk entirely.
panic, cold and sharp, flooded her veins. âthink, think, think,â her mind screamed. she desperately scanned the dark perimeters, trying to remember if there was an alternate alleyway or a detour she could take. but this part of the industrial district was a grid of dead ends and locked chain-link fences. to go around meant walking ten minutes backward, back into the deep dark of the station.
her hands shook violently as she pulled out her phone. she speed-dialed ness.
ring... ring... ring...
"come on, ness, pick up, please," she whispered frantically, tears of frustration stinging her eyes.
âthe subscriber you are trying to reach is currently unavailableââ
nessâ phone was dead or on 'do not disturb.' swearing under her breath, yn immediately tapped jen's contact.
thankfully, it didn't even ring twice before the line clicked open. but jen wasn't in a comforting mood. "yn, i swear to god, if you are calling me from the street right now, i am locking you out of the apartment. i am not entertaining this bullshit anymore. it is almost three in the morning andâ"
"jen," yn cut her off, her voice barely a ragged, hyperventilating whisper.
the sharp, heavy sound of ynâs shallow breathing immediately caught jenâs attention. the irritation on the other end of the line vanished, replaced instantly by absolute alertness. "yn? whatâs wrong? where are you?"
"jen... stay on the call with me. please. don't hang up," yn mumbled, her eyes wide as she watched one of the men ahead throw his empty bottle into the street, shattering it into a hundred pieces. "there are three men, up ahead and they're drunk. they're blocking the path to the main street."
"what?!" jen yelled, her voice echoing sharply through the phone. "oh my god, yn! i told you! turn around right now! walk back to the station, go inside where there are cameras and call jay! call him right now!"
"i can't go back, it's too far and it's dark," yn whispered, her voice trembling as she tightened her grip on her purse strap. she took a deep breath, trying to steady her shaking legs. "i'm just... i'm just going to walk past them. i'll pull my hood up, keep my head down, and walk as fast as i can. they might not even notice me."
"are you INSANE?! do not do that!" jen shouted, panic turning her voice screechy. "yn, listen to me, do not walk past three drunk men in a dark alley alone! turn around! yn! yn!"
but yn couldn't listen. the sheer desire to just be home, combined with the terrifying reality that she was trapped in the dark, forced her feet forward. she stepped out of the shadows and began walking toward the light, her heart hammering a frantic, deafening rhythm against her ribs.
"yn, listen to me, turn back! do not walk past them!" jenâs voice was a frantic, tinny screech against her ear, but the advice came too late. ynâs boots were already striking the pavement, the sharp clack-clack-clack of her heels echoing off the brick walls with terrifying clarity.
she pulled her hood over her head, tucked her chin into her collar and forced a mask of absolute confidence onto her face. âjust keep moving,â she told herself, her heart hammering a frantic rhythm. âlook like you belong here. look like you aren't afraid.â
for three agonising seconds, it seemed like her gamble might actually pay off. she pulled level with the three men, keeping to the absolute edge of the sidewalk near the curb. the heavy, sour stench of cheap alcohol and stale cigarettes hit her nose, making her stomach twist. one man was leaning heavily against a rusted chain-link fence, while another muttered something slurred to his friend. they didn't look up.
yn passed them. one step. two steps. three steps.
the glowing, neon-lit intersection of the main street was right there, just 15 feet away. a massive wave of relief washed over her, so intense it made her dizzy. she opened her mouth, inhaling deeply to finally breathe out a sigh and tell jen that she was okay.
but the clack of her heel hit a loose piece of gravel.
"yo! hey! look at this!" a loud, rough voice suddenly shattered the silence behind her.
ynâs entire body stiffened, her blood turning to pure ice.
"well, well. where are you going all by yourself, sweetheart?" another voice chimed in, louder this time, followed by the heavy, scraping sound of boots turning around on the asphalt.
she didn't look back. she didn't dare. she just lengthened her stride, practically breaking into a frantic power walk despite the sharp ache in her toes.
"hey! we're talking to you! why you walking so fast?" the voices were getting louder, closer, the slurred confidence in their tones shifting into aggressive amusement.
"jen..." yn whispered into the phone, her voice cracking, completely stripped of its earlier bravado. "jen, they noticed me. theyâre calling out."
"keep walking, yn! run!" jen screamed on the other end.
on the other side of the line, jen didn't waste another breath arguing. the sound of her flatmate's sheer panic was enough to send her into survival mode. throwing her own apartment door open, jen bolted out into the carpeted hallway of the complex. she didn't care about the neighbors or the hour; she sprinted the few feet to the boys' door and began thumping on the heavy wood with her fist, loud and frantic.
bang! bang! bang!
"open the door! jay! sunghoon! open the damn door right now!" jen shouted, her voice echoing violently through the quiet corridor.
inside, the apartment was dark. jay had been lying awake in his bed, staring at the ceiling, unable to shake a strange, unsettling restlessness that had been bugging him all night. hearing the violent pounding and jenâs frantic muffled screams, he threw his sheets off and bolted out of his room, crossing the living room just as sunghoon, clad in sweatpants and looking completely disoriented, unlocked the deadbolt.
the door swung open and jen practically burst inside, her face pale, her eyes wide with terror. she didn't look at sunghoon. her eyes locked instantly onto jay, who stood in the middle of the room, his brow furrowed in deep confusion.
"jen? what the hell is going on?" sunghoon croaked, rubbing his eyes.
jen didn't answer him. she lunged forward, thrusting her phone directly into jayâs hand. "take it! it's yn! she's in trouble!"
jayâs confusion vanished in a fraction of a second, replaced by a cold, sharp dread. he raised the phone to his ear, his voice dropping into a low register. "yn? what's going on?"
the sound of jayâs deep voice filtering through the speaker hit yn like a physical blow. her stomach dropped through the floor. the crushing weight of her lies, her stubbornness and the terrifying reality of her situation all crashed down on her at once. she had wanted so badly to hide this from him, to protect his peace, to avoid this exact conversation.
but as the heavy, hurried footsteps of the men grew distinctly closer behind her, the fear completely overrode her pride.
"jay!" yn sobbed openly, the tears finally spilling over her cheeks as she abandoned all pretense of walking. she broke into a full sprint, the uneven pavement making her ankles wobble dangerously in her heels. "seongie, i'm sorry, i'm so sorry, i lied to you."
"yn, calm down. breathe. where are you?" jayâs voice was laced with a terrifying, quiet panic. he was already moving, grabbing a hoodie from the back of the couch with his uninjured hand, his eyes dark and wildly alert as sunghoon immediately grabbed his car keys from the counter, sensing the emergency.
"i'm on the back streetâthe one by the old warehouses near the subway!" yn cried out, her breath coming in ragged, painful gasps as she ran. "i've been working late all week... i didn't want you to worry... but there are three men, jay! they're drunk.. and they're chasing me. they're right behind me."
behind her, a loud, mocking laugh echoed. "hey, look at her run! don't run, girl. we just wanna talk!"
jay heard the distant, male voice through the phone speaker.
the shift in jay was instantaneous and terrifying. a dark, primal fury washed over his features, his jaw clenching so hard a muscle ticked violently. the gentle, trusting boyfriend vanished, replaced by the man who would tear the world apart to keep her safe. he didn't lecture her. he didn't ask why she lied. none of that mattered right now.
"yn, listen to my voice," jay ordered, his tone drop-dead serious, echoing with an authority that brooked no argument as he booted his shoes on without tying them. "do not stop running. do not look back. stay on the line, i am coming right now."
he shoved the door open, sprinting toward the elevator with sunghoon right at his heels.
the pavement felt endless, a dark and treacherous stretch of cracked concrete and loose gravel. ynâs lungs burned, each breath cutting like a knife in the freezing morning air. the neon glow of the main road was tantalizingly close, just a few dozen yards away but behind her, the heavy, scraping sound of the men's boots was closing the distance far too fast.
"hey, slow down, sweetheart. why you gotta be like that?" one of the men yelled, his voice horribly close now, dripping with slurred amusement.
panic blinded her. yn pushed her legs harder, her chest heaving as she sobbed into the receiver. "jay, they're getting closer! they're almostâ"
snap.
a sharp, agonising crack echoed in her leg as her heel caught a deep crevice in the sidewalk. the world tilted violently. yn let out a piercing, agonised shriek that tore through the phone line, her body collapsing onto the cold pavement. the raw pain in her left ankle was instantaneous, radiating up to her knee like liquid fire.
"yn! yn, talk to me! what happened?!" jayâs voice exploded through the speaker, completely stripped of its composure. the sound of his girlfriendâs visceral scream sent a wave of sheer, unadulterated terror through him. he was trapped in the passenger seat of sunghoonâs sedan, his knuckles white as he gripped the dashboard, his heart hammering against his ribs.
"my ankleâ" yn gasped, tears streaming down her face as she scrambled backward on her hands and knees, dragging her useless leg behind her. she forced herself back up, leaning heavily against the brick wall of an abandoned storefront. she tried to take a step, but the moment she put an ounce of pressure on her left foot, her knee buckled. "jay, i can't walk! it hurts so bad, i can't move!"
"baby, listen to me, please," jay begged, his voice cracking, thick with an agonising mixture of helplessness and fury. hearing her cry in pain, so vulnerable and terrified, was tearing his soul apart. "you're so close to the main road, right? just drag yourself there, crawl if you have to. just get to the light. iâm almost there, yn. hold on for me, please, i'm begging you."
"sunghoon, drive faster! step on the damn gas!" jay roared, turning to his friend, his eyes wild and dangerous.
"i'm flooring it, jay! hold on!" sunghoon yelled back, gripping the steering wheel as he whipped the car around a sharp corner, the tires screeching violently against the asphalt as they tore toward the warehouse district.
the three men had easily closed the gap, their shadows stretching out and surrounding her against the brick wall. she was trapped, four minutes away from safety, completely incapacitated.
"look at that, she fell," the tallest one chuckled, stepping forward into her personal space. the heavy, sickening stench of cheap liquor washed over her. "see? you should've just talked to us from the start."
"get away from me!" yn cried out, her voice trembling but fierce as she slapped his hand away. she held the phone tightly against her ear with her other hand, using it like a shield. "don't touch me! move away!"
"come on, don't be like that," the second man slurred, reaching out to grab her arm.
"i said don't touch me!" yn screamed, kicking out with her uninjured leg, her heel catching the man squarely in the shin. he cursed, stepping back, which only seemed to agitate the third one.
through the open phone line, jay could hear every single thing. he heard the men's disgusting, patronising tones. he heard the rustle of clothes, the sound of her desperately fighting them off, and her shaky, broken voice crying out into the dark.
"please, just move away... leave me alone..." she begged, her voice shrinking as the three men closed the perimeter, cutting off any remaining escape route.
"yn! i hear them. we're turning onto the avenue now!" jay yelled into the phone, his voice a low, terrifying growl. "don't let them touch you. i'm almost there."
a blinding pair of high-beams cut through the darkness of the lane.
sunghoonâs sedan veered sharply around the final corner where the alley met the main road. the bright, halogen headlights illuminated the entire scene like a stage play: the three men looming over a terrified, crying yn, who was pinned against the wall, clutching her ankle, her face pale and streaked with tears.
before the car had even come to a complete, shuddering halt, jay had the passenger door open.
he didn't just step out; he exploded out of the vehicle. the restraint, the corporate professionalism, the calm-headed guy his friends always relied onâall of it vanished, utterly incinerated by the sight of his girl cornered in the dark.
"get the fuck away from her!" jayâs voice boomed through the empty street, a sound so raw and menacing it made all three men snap their heads around in surprise.
yn looked up through her tear-blurred vision, the blinding headlights framing jayâs silhouette as he charged down the sidewalk toward them. a sob of pure, overwhelming relief escaped her lips.
the men didn't even have time to raise their hands or utter a slurred threat. jay reached the first man in a matter of seconds. blinded by a week's worth of built-up worry and tonight's absolute terror, jay grabbed the front of the manâs jacket with his uninjured left hand, using his entire body weight to violently slam him against the nearest metal dumpster. the heavy metal rattled with a deafening crash.
"hey! what theâ" the second man started, stepping forward but sunghoon was already there, slamming his car door shut and stepping into the fray, his face grim and furious as he grabbed the second guy by the collar to keep him away from jay.
jay didn't care about the others. his eyes were locked on the third man, who was standing closest to yn. the man took a step back, suddenly realising they weren't dealing with an easy target anymore.
"if you ever look at her, if you ever even think about breathing in her, or any girlâs direction again," jay hissed, his voice dangerously quiet as he stepped between the man and yn, his chest heaving, his dark eyes burning with a promise of absolute destruction, "i will personally make sure you never walk again. get out of here before i lose whatever sanity i have left."
the sheer, terrifying intensity in jayâs posture was enough. the men, realising they were outmatched and dealing with someone who was ready to kill to protect the girl, stumbled backward. the first man scrambled up from the dumpster and the three of them quickly retreated into the shadows of the alley, their slurred bravado entirely gone.
the moment the threat vanished, the dark fury left jayâs eyes, replaced instantly by agonising concern. he dropped to his knees right in front of yn, his hands trembling as he reached out to her.
"yn... baby, look at me," he breathed, his voice cracking as he gently cupped her face, his thumb wiping away her tears. "iâm here, youâre safe. youâre okay, baby."
jay didn't waste another second. slipping one arm securely beneath her knees and the other behind her back, he lifted yn effortlessly into his arms. she let out a sharp, muffled wince, her fingers clutching frantically at the fabric of his hoodie as she buried her face into his neck, her tears dampening his skin.
he carried her carefully to the sedan, his jaw set in a hard, rigid line. sunghoon held the rear door open, his face etched with a mixture of anger and deep relief. jay slid into the backseat with her, keeping her gathered closely against his chest, refusing to let her go even for a second.
the moment sunghoon climbed into the driver's seat and threw the car into reverse, the suffocating silence inside the vehicle broke.
jay reached down, his fingers surprisingly gentle despite the rigid tension in his body, and carefully inspected her left ankle. even in the dim light of the moving car, the swelling was already visible, puffing up over the edge of her sock. the moment his thumb lightly brushed the side of her foot, yn hissed in pain, sobbing quietly against his neck.
something inside jay snapped.
the terrifying fear that had gripped him for the last twenty minutes suddenly curdled into pure, unadulterated rage. he looked up at her, his dark eyes freezing over.
"how long?" jay demanded, his voice dropping into a dangerously low, cold register that made yn shiver.
yn kept her face hidden against his shoulder, her shoulders shaking. "seongie, please..."
"i asked you a question, yn," jay interrupted, his tone completely devoid of its usual warmth. "how long have you been doing this? how long have you been walking home alone at fucking three in the morning?"
from the front seat, sunghoon glanced at the rearview mirror, his voice cautious. "jay, calm down. let's just get back to the apartment first. she's hurt."
"shut up, sunghoon," jay fired back, not taking his eyes off her. he gripped her waist a little tighter, his voice cutting through the quiet car like a knife. "look at me and tell me the truth. every single night this week, when ness said you were already asleep in your room... where were you?"
yn finally looked up, her eyes red, swollen and swimming with fresh tears. the anger in his face was terrifying, but it was the deep, underlying hurt in his eyes that made her heart ache.
"the whole week," she confessed in a broken whisper, a fresh sob escaping her lips. "every night this week. i was working late... i didn't want you to worry, seongie. i didn't want to bother you or sunghoon after your long shifts. ness was covering for me. i... i lied to you."
the admission hit jay like a physical blow to the chest. he stared at her, the cold rage instantly fracturing to reveal a profound, crushing heartbreak. he had trusted her blindly. every night, he had fallen asleep believing she was safe in her bed, sending her sweet messages, completely oblivious to the fact that she was walking through the darkest, most dangerous corners of the neighborhood alone. she had treated his protection like an inconvenience, keeping him in the dark while putting herself in harm's way.
jay didn't say another word. he closed his eyes, leaning his head back against the seat, completely shutting down. the silence that followed was heavy and agonising. he kept his arm around her so she wouldn't jostle as sunghoon sped through the streets, but the warmth was gone. he was entirely checked out.
when the sedan finally jerked to a halt in the parking lot, jay moved like a machine. he swung the door open, lifted her back into his arms and carried her out of the elevator and down the hallway.
inside the boys' apartment, the front door was wide open. the lights were blazing, and the atmosphere was thick with anxiety. jen was pacing back and forth near the kitchen island, her face pale, while jungwon and sunoo sat on the edge of the couch, looking wide-eyed and terrified. jen had caught them up to speed when their two flatmates barged out of the house.
the moment the front door clicked, all three of them scrambled to their feet.
"YN!" jen gasped, rushing forward the second she saw jay step into the living room.
jay didn't look at jen. his expression was completely blank, his face an unreadable mask of stone. he walked right past her, his heavy steps echoing in the quiet room as he carried yn over to the main couch. he lowered her down onto the soft cushions with meticulous care, making sure her swollen ankle was elevated on an armrest, before stepping back.
jen immediately threw her arms around ynâs shoulders, holding her tight as yn buried her face in her best friend's shoulder, weeping softly from the lingering shock and the throbbing pain.
"oh my god, thank you," jen breathed out, looking up at jay with immense gratitude, her voice shaking. "jay, thank you so much for getting to her. i am so sorry, i should have told you sooner, iâ"
jay didn't let her finish. he didn't acknowledge the thank you, nor did he look at jungwon or sunoo, who were watching him with hesitant, worried expressions.
"i'm getting the sprain gel," jay said flatly, his voice empty of any emotion.
without waiting for a response, he turned on his heel and walked down the hallway toward the bathroom, his broad shoulders tense, leaving the living room in a stunned, uncomfortable silence.
he didnât look at anyone when he walked back into the room with the first-aid kit and a tube of cooling sprain gel. kneeling on the floor by the edge of the couch, he gently lifted her swollen ankle, placing it onto his lap. his movements were incredibly precise and carefulâhe didn't want to cause her any more pain than she was already inâbut there was a mechanical, detached coldness to his touch that made ynâs heart twist painfully.
he squeezed a dollop of the gel onto his fingers and began applying it to the bruised skin. the silence stretching between them was agonising.
without looking up from his task, jay finally spoke, his voice low and devoid of any warmth. "did you know?"
the question wasn't directed at yn. he was looking straight down, his eyes fixed entirely on her injured foot.
jen, who was sitting on the edge of the coffee table, swallowed hard. she felt a chill run down her spine at the sheer emptiness in jayâs tone. "jay... i found out a couple of days ago. i yelled at her, i swear. i told her she was being reckless and i told her to tell you tonight, otherwise i was going toâ"
"but you didn't tell me," jay cut her off softly. he didn't raise his voice, didn't sound angry anymore. he just sounded incredibly, profoundly tired. "you knew she was out there in the dark, and you let her keep doing it."
"jay, i'm sorry," jen whispered, her eyes shining with genuine guilt. "i should have called you the second i found out. i shouldn't have let her convince me."
jay didn't reply. he didn't yell, he didn't argue, he didn't even sigh. he simply opened a roll of compression bandage, wrapped her ankle with expert precision, and fastened the clips. when he was entirely finished, he stood up, his tall frame casting a long shadow over the couch.
"seongie..." yn reached out, her fingers brushing the hem of his hoodie, her voice cracking as a fresh wave of tears spilled over her cheeks. "please. talk to me. yell at me, do something. don't just ignore me."
jay didn't look back. he didn't even pause. he gently pulled his hoodie out of her grasp and walked down the hallway, the sharp click of his bedroom door closing behind him echoing like a gunshot through the quiet apartment.
the moment the door shut, yn felt as though the air had been violently sucked out of her lungs. her chest caved in, a sob tearing through her throat as she buried her face in her hands, her whole body shaking violently.
jen immediately moved to the couch, pulling yn into a tight, fierce hug. "oh, hon, i'm so sorry. i'm so sorry."
jungwon and sunoo, who had been sitting quietly on the opposite couch, exchanged worried glances before stepping closer. sunghoon knelt down near her good foot, his expression soft and comforting.
"yn, hey, listen to me," sunghoon said gently, waiting until she peeked through her tear-stained fingers. "he's just really scared. you have to understand, he was a complete mess when jen came thumping on the door. i've never seen jay look that terrified in my life. he's just processing everything."
"he's right," sunoo chimed in, leaning over the back of the couch with a sympathetic frown. "jay loves you more than anything. he's furious because he cares. he's just mad that you put yourself in danger and that he wasn't there to protect you from the start. give him a little time to cool down."
"no, you don't understand," yn wept, her voice muffled against jen's shoulder. she shook her head frantically, a dark, suffocating realisation settling deep in her gut. "it's not just that he's mad. i broke his trust."
jen pulled back slightly, wiping a tear from yn's cheek. "what do you mean?"
"you know how jay is," yn whispered, her voice trembling as she stared blankly at the dark hallway where his room was. "when we first started dating... we had this long talk. he told me the one thing he absolutely cannot tolerate is dishonesty. he made it so clear. he said he doesn't do a relationship without absolute trust and love. he told me that once trust is gone, there's nothing left to build on."
she let out a broken, ragged breath, fresh tears blurring her vision. "and i lied to him. for an entire week, i let him think i was safe. i made ness lie to him. every time he sent me a sweet text telling me he loved me and hoped i was sleeping well, i was hiding the truth from him. i broke his trust big time, jen. what if... what if he breaks up with me?"
the boys fell silent, the gravity of her words sinking in. they knew jay better than anyone. they knew that beneath his fiercely protective, caring exterior, he was a man of strict principles. he gave his heart completely but he expected total honesty in return.
jen squeezed her hand tightly, unable to offer a reassurance that didn't feel hollow. "just rest for tonight, yn. you're both exhausted and in shock. we'll figure it out tomorrow, okay?"
the transition from the boys' apartment back to her own was a blur of physical pain and emotional exhaustion. with sunghoon supporting her left side and jen holding her steady on the right, yn hopped painfully across the carpeted hallway. every slight bounce sent a sharp, throbbing reminder of her recklessness straight up her leg, but she barely felt it. her mind was entirely trapped in the room across the hall, locked behind a closed door.
they carefully guided her into her bedroom, easing her onto the edge of the mattress.
"thanks, sunghoon," yn whispered, her voice incredibly small, hoarse from crying. she looked up at him with pleading, bloodshot eyes, her fingers nervously twisting the fabric of her blanket. "please... can you just check on him? when you go back? just let me know if heâs okay. if he's even sleeping."
sunghoon let out a long, heavy sigh, his expression a mix of lingering frustration and deep sympathy. he rubbed the back of his neck. "iâll check on him, yn. but honestly? don't expect much tonight. iâve known jay since high school and i've rarely seen him shut down like this. he just needs time. focus on resting your foot, okay?"
once sunghoon slipped out, jen quietly helped her change into a pair of loose sweatpants, careful not to jostle the tightly wrapped bandage on her ankle. jen tucked her under the covers, pressing a gentle hand to her forehead.
"try to sleep, okay? i'm right next door if you need anything," jen murmured softly, turning off the main light.
but sleep never came. for the remainder of the night, yn stared at the ceiling, watching the shadows shift as the minutes ticked painfully away. every time she closed her eyes, she either saw the terrifying silhouettes of the three men closing in on her, or the cold, empty look in jay's eyes as he walked away. she didn't know which memory terrified her more.
the next morning, the physical throbbing in her ankle had subsided into a dull, manageable ache, but the anxiety in her chest had multiplied tenfold. unable to sit still any longer, yn threw off her covers. she refused the crutches jen had left by her bed, choosing instead to lean heavily against the walls, limping her way out of her apartment and across the hall.
when she pushed open the boys' front door, the apartment was uncharacteristically quiet. the morning sun streamed through the large windows, illuminating the kitchen where the boys were gathered around the island. jungwon was pouring juice, sunoo was scrolling on his phone and sunghoon was leaning against the counter.
jay was there, too. he was sitting on a barstool, dressed in his crisp work clothes, staring silently down at a plate of half-eaten food. the dark circles under his eyes made it clear he hadn't slept a wink either.
the moment the soft thud of her limping footsteps echoed into the room, the atmosphere instantly froze.
jungwon and sunoo looked up, their eyes widening with an uncomfortable, anxious tension. without a word, as if sensing the invisible wall of lightning about to strike, the three boys quietly shuffled out of the kitchen. sunghoon gave yn a tight, warning look that silently said tread lightly, before leading the younger boys down the hallway, leaving the two of them entirely alone.
yn swallowed the lump in her throat, taking a fragile step closer to the island, gripping the edge of the counter to take the weight off her bad foot.
"good morning," she whispered softly, her voice trembling.
jay didn't look up. he didn't even flinch. his hand gripped his fork a little tighter, his jaw clenching as he deliberately took another bite of his food, treating her presence as if she were nothing more than a ghost.
"seongie... please," yn begged, her heart shattering at the absolute ice radiating from him. "can we talk? just for a few minutes. please look at me."
jay didn't say a word. he methodically finished the last bite on his plate, set his fork down with a loud, deliberate sound and stood up. he picked up his plate and turned toward the sink, completely bypassing her as if she weren't even standing there bleeding her heart out.
desperation flared through her. forgetting the pain in her ankle, yn lunged forward and grabbed his right wristâhis uninjured hand. her fingers gripped him tightly, her touch warm against his skin, begging for any sign of the man who had held her so fiercely the night before.
"jay, please! don't do this to me," she cried out, the tears she had been holding back all morning finally spilling over her cheeks. "yell at me! tell me i was stupid, tell me i ruined everything, but please don't just walk away from me again. i can't handle the silence. we need to talk about this."
jay froze. for a long, painful second, he just stood there, his back turned to her, his chest heaving under his ironed dress shirt.
slowly, deliberately, he turned around.
when his eyes finally met hers, ynâs breath caught in her throat. there was no anger in his face. there was no fiery fury like the night he fought for her. there was only a profound, hollow exhaustion and a deep, crushing sorrow. he looked at her hand gripping his wrist and then looked up into her tear-stained face.
he didn't pull away, but his voice, when he finally spoke, was a low, chilling whisper that cut deeper than any shout ever could.
"do you honestly think there is anything left to talk about, yn?"
"seongie, iâ"
"no, listen to me," jay interrupted, his voice cracking slightly, the raw hurt finally bleeding through his stoic mask. "for a whole week, i went to bed thinking you were safe. i sat in this exact kitchen, typing out messages telling you how much i loved you, how much i wanted you to rest well. and the entire time, you were walking through the dark alone, putting yourself in danger and making everyone around me lie straight to my face."
he gently, but firmly, pried her fingers off his wrist, stepping back to create a physical distance between them that felt miles wide.
"you know exactly who i am, yn. i told you from day one that i don't know how to love halfway, and i don't know how to be in a relationship where i can't trust the person i'm coming home to," jay said, his dark eyes shimmering with unshed tears as he looked at her bandaged foot, then back at her face. "you didn't just break a rule, and you didn't just make a mistake. you broke my trust. big time. so tell me... when the foundation of everything we built is cracked, what exactly do you want us to talk about?"
the words hung in the sterile, morning air of the kitchen, heavy and suffocating. jay stood just a few feet away, but to yn, the distance felt like a yawning chasm. his words âwhat exactly do you want us to talk about?â sliced through her defenses, leaving a raw, bleeding ache in her chest.
her heart didn't just drop; it felt as though it were physically breaking, fracturing under the weight of his hollow gaze. her hands, completely empty now that he had pried them from his wrist, trembled violently at her sides. she gripped the edge of the marble countertop just to keep her balance, her knuckles turning white as her injured ankle throbbed in protest. but the physical pain was a distant noise compared to the absolute terror seizing her soul.
she looked up at him, her vision completely blurred by a fresh cascade of tears, her lips shaking as she forced herself to give voice to the one question she had been running from since the moment he locked his bedroom door the night before.
"what... what do you mean by that, jay?" she whispered, her voice cracking so violently it was barely audible. she took a tiny, aching step forward, swallowing the sob rising in her throat. "please, don't say it like that. you're speaking like... like we're already over. are youâare you breaking up with me?"
jay didn't answer immediately. he closed his eyes, his head dropping slightly as he let out a long, ragged breath through his nose. the question seemed to physically weigh on his broad shoulders. when he opened his eyes again, the profound sorrow in them was devastating.
"i mean exactly what i said, yn," jay replied, his voice terrifyingly quiet, devoid of the passionate fire she was so used to. "i don't know how to navigate this. i don't know how to look at you right now and not feel a complete, overwhelming wave of fear and betrayal."
"it was just to protect your peace!" she cried out, the defense bursting from her lips in a desperate, frantic rush. she reached out again, her hands hovering in the space between them, terrified to touch him but desperate to close the distance. "i swear to you, seongie, it wasn't because i didn't care about your rules or your trust! i saw how stressed you were with work. i saw how much pressure your dad was putting on you at the office, and your hand was still broken and bruised from the party! i felt so guilty. i felt like a burden. i just thought... if i could just get home quietly, if i could just manage it on my own for a few days, you wouldn't have to carry my weight too."
"your weight?" jay echoed, a sudden, sharp spike of emotion breaking through his icy exterior. he stepped forward, his eyes locking onto hers with a sudden, fierce intensity that made her gasp. "you think your safety is a burden to me, yn? is that really what you think of me?"
"no, i didn't mean it likeâ"
"for three years, i have built my entire life around making sure you are taken care of," jay interrupted, his voice finally rising, cracking with the sheer volume of his suppressed hurt. "every late night i work, every meeting i sit through with my dad, every single choice i make is so i can build a future for us. i don't care about a long drive. i don't care about losing an hour of sleep. i would have crawled on my hands and knees to that station to pick you up if you had just asked!"
he gestured vaguely toward the hallway, toward the reality of the lies that had spun out of control. "but instead of trusting me to be your man, you chose to keep me in the dark. you actively constructed a lie. you had ness text me every single night telling me you were safe in bed. do you have any idea what that feels like? to look back at this whole week and realise that while i was falling asleep feeling happy because i thought you were warm and safe, you were actually out there, running for your life in the dark?"
yn covered her mouth with both hands, her shoulders shaking violently as a choked, agonising sob escaped her. "i'm sorry... i'm so sorry, jay..."
"when i heard you scream over that phone line last night," jay continued, his voice dropping back down into a raw, trembling whisper, his own eyes finally glistening with unshed tears, "my heart stopped. i have never felt fear like that in my entire life. i thought i was going to lose you. and the worst part? the absolutely crushing part, yn? it wouldn't have been because of a freak accident. it would have been because you chose to lie to me."
he stepped back again, the momentary flare of anger dying out, leaving him looking completely defeated. he adjusted the cuff of his dress shirt, the mechanical movement a stark contrast to the emotional wreckage in the room.
"you broke the one thing i told you i could never afford to lose," jay said softly, looking away from her because looking at her tear-stained face was tearing him apart. "you took my trust, and you threw it away for a week's worth of convenience. so when you ask me what i mean... i mean that i don't know how i'm supposed to look at you and believe a single word that comes out of your mouth tomorrow. and without that, i honestly don't know what we have left."
the silence that followed his words was suffocating, but instead of crushing yn, it ignited something raw and desperate inside her. the sheer terror of losing him cracked wide open, pulling up a deeply buried truth she had never fully admitted to herself, let alone to him.
"you want to know what we have left? then listen to me, jay!" yn shouted, her voice breaking violently as she let go of the counter. she stood entirely on her own two feet, ignoring the blinding flash of pain in her ankle because her chest was practically combusting.
jay froze, his broad shoulders tensing as he slowly turned his head to look at her.
"i told you i didn't want to burden you and thatâs true, but itâs so much deeper than that," she cried, her hands trembling as she gestured wildly between them. "i hid it because i felt so fucking useless, jay! every single time i have to lean into you for the stupidest, most basic thingsâlike just getting from work to my own apartmentâa part of me feels completely pathetic. i knew i could call you. i knew you would drop everything and drive over with a smile on your face. but thatâs exactly the problem!"
jayâs brow furrowed, his eyes darkening. "how is me, wanting to keep you safe, a problem, yn?"
"because i have spent my entire life trying to be independent!" she yelled back, tears streaming hot and fast down her face. "before i moved here, before i met you, i had to figure things out on my own. i had to be strong. but with you... i know youâre always there. i know you love me. but you also unknowingly treat me like a child, jay! you protect me so much that it feels like you're wrapping me in bubble wrap, and i just... i needed to know that i could still do something by myself. i needed to know i could handle my own life, even if it was just something as stupid as walking home alone at three in the morning."
"are you serious right now?" jay asked, his voice dropping into an incredulous, dangerous whisper. he took a step toward her, his face twisting in absolute disbelief. "you risked your life, you let three drunk men corner you in a dark alley, just to prove a point about your independence?"
"i know how stupid it sounds!" she sobbed, burying her face in her hands for a brief second before pulling them away, looking at him with fierce, raw vulnerability. "i know it was reckless! but i was just so sick of feeling like i couldn't survive without you. if i wasn't dating you right now, jay, i wouldn't have a boyfriend with a car to text. i wouldn't have anyone to call. i would have to walk that route by myself anyway. i would have to face those dark streets alone. so what is the difference? why does me dating you mean i suddenly have to give up all my agency and act like i can't walk down a street without a chaperone?"
the words echoed violently against the kitchen tiles. yn was panting, her chest heaving as she let out the bitter resentment and insecurity she had kept bottled up for months.
jay stared at her, the shock on his face slowly hardening into a cold, profound realisation. the anger in his eyes didn't flare up; instead, it dimmed into something much worseâan absolute, heartbreaking detachment.
"what's the difference?" jay repeated her words, his voice so quiet, so deadly calm, it made the hairs on her arms stand up. he let out a bitter, breathless laugh that didn't reach his eyes. "you're asking me what the difference is?"
he walked up to her, stopping a mere inches away, towering over her. but there was no warmth, no protective instinct in his posture now. just a cold, hard wall.
"the difference, yn, is that those other girls walking alone don't have a man at home whose entire world revolves around them," jay said, his voice trembling with a terrifying restraint. "the difference is that if something happens to a stranger on the street, it's a tragedy. but if something happens to you, my entire life is over. that is the fucking difference."
he leaned down slightly, his dark eyes boring into hers, piercing right through her defenses.
"you think i treat you like a child because i want to pick you up from a sketchy train station? thatâs not me treating you like a child, thatâs me loving you. thatâs me doing what a man is supposed to do for the woman he intends to marry," he whispered, the word marry landing like a heavy, painful anchor between them. "but you want to talk about agency? you want to talk about what you would do if you were single? fine. if being with me makes you feel that suffocated, if my protection makes you feel 'useless,' then maybe you shouldn't be dating me."
ynâs breath hitched, her heart stopping completely. "jay, no, thatâs not what iâ"
"no, you made yourself very clear," jay interrupted, his voice completely flat as he stepped back, cutting off the space between them once again. he grabbed his car keys and his wallet from the counter, his movements completely steady now, a chilling contrast to the emotional wreck she was. "you wanted to know what it felt like to handle things on your own. you wanted to know what it was like to not have to worry about my trust or my rules or my care. congratulations. you get to figure it out."
he didn't look at her tears. he didn't look at her bandaged foot. he walked right past her, his heavy steps echoing through the living room.
"jay! wait, please!" she cried, turning around to follow him, but her ankle buckled immediately, forcing her to grab the back of a barstool to keep from crashing to the floor.
the violent, echoing thud of the front door closing seemed to reverberate through the very walls of the apartment, leaving behind a silence so absolute it felt heavy enough to suffocate.
yn stood frozen, her fingers gripping the fabric of the barstool so tightly her knuckles were stark white. her breath hitched in her throat, her chest heaving as she stared at the empty space where jay had stood just seconds ago.
for a moment, she tried to force her body to move. she wanted to throw the door open, to sprint down the hallway, to catch the elevator doors before they closed. she wanted to scream his name until her lungs burned, to tell him that she didn't want a life without his protection, that she was sorry, so incredibly sorry.
but the moment she shifted her weight, a white-hot flash of agony shot up from her left ankle, completely blinding her. her knee gave out instantly. the world tilted and a sharp, ragged gasp left her lips as she began to fall toward the hard kitchen tiles.
before she could hit the ground, multiple pairs of hands caught her.
"whoa, whoaâi got you, yn. hold on," sunghoonâs voice cut through the fog of her panic, his strong arms hooking under her armpits to bear her weight.
jungwon was right there on her other side, his hands steady against her waist, his sweet face etched with profound worry. together, they carefully guided her onto one of the padded kitchen chairs before her legs could give out entirely. sunoo quickly pulled up another chair, gently lifting her bandaged leg to rest on it, his cheek puffed slightly as he looked at her tear-streaked face.
the boys had heard everything. the apartment walls were thick but the sheer, raw volume of their desperation and heartbreak had carried straight down the hallway. they had stood in the quiet of the back rooms, chests aching, feeling entirely helpless as they listened to the foundation of their best friend's relationship fracture into pieces. they knew they had no right to step into a private argument but hearing jay's voice breakâhearing him speak with a cold, hollow detachment they had never heard from him beforeâhad deeply shaken them. they knew exactly what jayâs words meant. jay didn't make empty threats. when he shut down, he shut down completely.
"hey, look at me. breathe, okay? just try to breathe," jungwon murmured softly, kneeling beside her chair and gently rubbing her trembling shoulder.
but yn couldn't breathe. the physical ache in her leg was entirely eclipsed by the crushing, hollow emptiness expanding in her chest. the energy drained out of her body all at once, leaving her completely hollowed out and weak. she slumped forward, her forehead resting against jungwon's shoulder as a broken, choked sob finally tore out of her throat.
once the dam broke, there was no stopping it. yn wept with a violent, agonizing intensity that shook her entire frame. she cried for the terrifying fear of the previous night, for the exhaustion of the grueling week, but most of all, she cried for the immense, catastrophic loss of the man she loved.
sunghoon stepped closer, his heavy hand resting on the back of her head, pulling her into a protective, brotherly embrace as she sat there, broken on their kitchen floor.
"i didn't mean it like that, sunghoon," she choked out between ragged, gasping breaths, her fingers clutching at the fabric of his shirt. "i don't want to be without him. i don't want to figure it out alone. i just... i was so stupid. why did i say those things to him?"
"shh, i know. we know," sunghoon said softly, his voice thick with emotion. he exchanged a grim, heavy look with jungwon over her head. "you were scared and you were defensive. we get it, yn."
"he's never looked at me like that before," she sobbed, her voice cracking as a dull, pounding migraine began to throb behind her temples from the hours of crying. "his eyes... they were so cold. do you think he's really done? is he really going to leave me?"
sunoo sat on the floor near her feet, his eyes shining with unshed tears as he reached up to squeeze her hand. "jay is just hurt right now, yn. he's incredibly hurt. when he loves, he gives one hundred percent of himself. so when he feels like that love isn't trusted, it breaks him. he just needs to breathe."
"but he said... he said i threw his trust away," she whispered, her head aching so violently she had to squeeze her eyes shut, leaning heavily into sunghoon's chest. "and i did. i lied to him every single day. i made him feel like a fool for caring about me."
"you made a mistake," jungwon said firmly, his voice grounding as he looked up at her. "a really big one, yeah. but jay doesn't stop loving someone overnight. he drove like a maniac to get to you last night, yn. he fought for you. right now, he's just angry and suffocated by the fear of what almost happened to you. let him walk it off."
the day dragged on like a slow, agonizing torture. back in her own apartment, yn sat on the edge of her bed, her phone glued to her palm. every ten minutes, she would type out a message, delete it, rewrite it, and finally send it with trembling fingers.
to seongieđââŹ
seongie please call me baby please
iâm so sorry i didnât mean any of it
i donât feel suffocated by you
i was just scared and stupid
please just let me see you
even if youâre mad, just let me see you
each message suffered the exact same fate. a few minutes would pass, the status would change to read, and then... nothing. just a cold, crushing silence. he was seeing them. he was reading her desperate pleas but he wasn't answering.
by the time the sun began to set, casting long, melancholy orange shadows across the hallway of their floor, yn couldn't take it anymore. ignoring the strict instructions from jen and ness to keep off her feet, she limped out of her apartment.
she stood in the carpeted corridor, leaning her back against the wall directly outside the boys' apartment door. her left ankle was throbbing aggressively, a dull, hot pain radiating up her leg from standing for so long, but she didn't care. she refused to sit down. she needed to be the very first thing he saw when he finally came back. she needed him to know she wasnât running away from the mess she had made.
it was past 8:00 pm. when the quiet chime of the elevator echoed through the hallway.
the doors slid open and jay stepped out. he looked completely exhausted. his hair was slightly messy, his tie was loosened around his collar and his jacket was slung loosely over his shoulder. the moment his eyes landed on her slumped against the wall, a sharp flicker of frustration and worry crossed his face, breaking his stoic mask for a split second.
he strode over, stopping a few feet away, looking down at her wrapped ankle. "what on earth are you doing?" jay demanded, his voice rough and laced with tired irritation. "why are you standing out here on that foot? did you completely lose your mind?"
yn ignored his question entirely. the moment she saw his face, the dam broke all over again. she took a fragile, stumbling step toward him, her hands reaching out to clutch the fabric of his shirt.
"i'm sorry," she sobbed, the tears instantly blurring her vision. "jay, i'm so, so sorry. i wasn't thinking when i spoke to you earlier. i was just defensive and i said the most horrible, stupid things. i don't want to be single, jay. i don't feel suffocated by you. i love your protection. i love that you care about me. please don't look at me like i'm a stranger."
jay looked down at her hands on his chest, his jaw clenching tightly. he let out a heavy breath, his voice dropping into a flat, rigid tone. "i am not doing this out here. i am not having this conversation in the hallway for the whole building to hear, go inside."
"NO!" yn cried out stubbornly, tightening her grip on his shirt, her head shaking frantically. "iâm not going into the house."
jayâs brow furrowed in annoyance. "yn, stop being ridiculous. go inside and sit down."
"no, because if i go inside, youâre just going to walk away from me again!" she yelled softly, her voice thick with panic. "you'll lock yourself in your room or you'll leave the apartment and you won't look at me. i'm staying right here until you talk to me."
jay stared at her, a profound, weary sigh escaping his lips. he looked at her pale face, her red-rimmed eyes and the way her left leg was visibly shaking from bearing her weight for too long. despite the deep fracture in his trust, the sight of her in pain was still something his body physically couldn't tolerate.
without another word, jay slung his jacket onto his shoulder, stepped forward and swept her off her feet.
yn let out a small gasp, her arms instinctively flying around his neck. even now, in the middle of their worst fight, his arms were strong, secure and completely unyielding. he kicked the front door open with his boot, carried her into the living room and bypassed the boysâwho were sitting silently at the kitchen island, watching with bated breath.
jay walked straight to the long couch, carefully lowering her onto the cushions. he reached over, grabbed a throw pillow and placed it beneath her swollen ankle to elevate it, his movements fast and entirely mechanical.
the moment he finished, he straightened his spine, turning on his heel to walk toward the hallway that led to his bedroom. he was shutting down again.
"jay! no, wait please!"
yn lunged forward from the couch, completely disregarding the sharp stab of pain in her leg. she reached out, her fingers catching his right hand just as he was about to step away. she gripped his fingers, squeezing them with every ounce of strength she had left, her tears falling fast onto the fabric of the sofa.
jay froze in his tracks. he didn't pull his hand away but he didn't squeeze back either. his hand felt heavy, still, and completely cold in her grasp. he stood with his back to her, his head tilted downward.
"please, seongie, i'm begging you," she cried, her voice cracking into a broken, desperate whisper that echoed rawly through the quiet living room. "look at me. just look at me for one second. don't go into your room."
"yn, let go," jay said softly, his voice dangerously calm, though his shoulders trembled slightly.
"i won't. i can't," she sobbed, pulling his hand closer to her chest, trying to ground him to her. "i know i broke your trust. i know i was reckless and that i lied to you for a week. it was the worst thing i've ever done and i hate myself for making you feel like your love was a burden. but please don't give up on us. tell me how to fix it. tell me what to do to make you trust me again. i'll do anything. i'll call you every hour, i'll quit the late shifts, i'll do whatever you want. just don't leave me."
a heavy, suffocating silence descended on the room. in the kitchen, sunghoon, jungwon and sunoo sat completely frozen, their hearts breaking for the sheer desperation in yn's voice.
slowly, jay turned around.
when he looked down at her, the sheer amount of unshed tears in his dark eyes made her heart stop. his face wasn't angry; it was entirely shattered.
"you think this is about me wanting to control your schedule?" jay asked, his voice cracking, a single tear finally escaping and tracing a path down his sharp cheekbone. "you think i want you to call me every hour to prove something to me?"
"no, i justâ"
"i don't want a puppet, yn," jay whispered, his voice trembling with a profound, raw ache. "i wanted a partner. i wanted the girl who looked me in the eye three years ago and promised we would face everything together. i don't want you to change your life because i'm forcing you to. i wanted you to want to protect our peace just as much as i do."
he slowly knelt down on one knee in front of the couch, bringing himself to her eye level, though he gently, agonizingly loosened her grip on his fingers until he was just holding her wrist.
"you told me this morning that if you were single, you'd have to walk that dark road alone anyway. you asked me what the difference was," jay said, his voice dropping into a hollow, broken whisper. "and that's what's killing me, baby. because it means that even after three years of me giving you every single piece of my heart... in your mind, you are still completely alone. you haven't actually let me in."
the raw honesty of his words seemed to strip away the very last of her defenses. yn stared at him through a heavy veil of tears, watching the single drop trace the sharp line of his jaw. hearing him say that she hadn't let him inâthat in her mind, she was still completely aloneâfelt like a mirror being forced in front of her face. it was a terrifyingly accurate reflection of a flaw she had buried so deep, she hadn't even realised it was poisoning the very thing she cherished most.
she didn't try to pull her hand back. instead, her fingers trembled against his wrist, her grip softening into something entirely exposed and fragile.
"i don't know how to do that, seongie," she admitted softly, her voice barely a breathy whisper that seemed to falter in the space between them.
jayâs brow furrowed slightly, his eyes searching hers, looking for the meaning behind the sudden shift in her tone. the anger in the room had completely dissolved, leaving behind a heavy, tragic vulnerability.
"what do you mean you don't know how?" jay asked, his voice rough and quiet.
"i don't know how to let someone all the way in," yn sobbed quietly, a fresh wave of tears spilling over her cheeks. she lowered her head, unable to maintain eye contact with the sheer amount of love and hurt in his gaze. "you are the center of my world, jay. you have been since the moment we fell in love. but... i don't know how to help myself. i don't know how to exist in a space where iâm allowed to just have problems and expect someone to stay."
she swallowed hard, her chest heaving as the truth finally poured out of her, unedited and ugly.
"every single choice i made this weekâevery lie i told, every time i made ness cover for meâit was because i only thought about you," she cried, looking back up at him, her eyes pleading for him to understand the warped logic of her fear. "i thought about how hard you work. i thought about the pressure from your dad. and i thought... if i tell him i'm stuck at the office until two in the morning, heâs going to get in his car. heâs going to tire himself out. heâs going to burden himself with my stupid schedule."
"yn..."
"no, let me finish, please," she begged, her grip tightening on his wrist. "i was terrified, jay. i am always terrified of giving you a reason to realise that i have too many problems. that my life is too messy. that caring for me takes too much out of you. i can barely live with myself most days. i look at all my anxieties, my stress, my exhausting hours and i don't even know how i'm supposed to handle it. i don't know how you do it, either, but you do. you do it effortlessly and you love me through all of it."
she let out a broken, ragged breath, her shoulders shaking violently as she laid her entire soul bare at his feet.
"i was just so scared of ruining what we have," she whispered, her voice cracking into a devastating, raw confession. "i thought that if i brought too much of my mess into your life, youâd wake up one day and realise iâm not worth the hassle. so i did everything i could to protect your peace. i handled the dark streets, i handled the late hours, i handled the fearâbecause in my mind, if i suffered quietly, you got to stay happy. i didn't realise that by trying to save you from my mess, i was breaking the one thing that kept us together."
jay didn't move. he remained on one knee in front of the couch, his dark eyes fixed entirely on her face. the words she had just spoken seemed to echo through him, systematically dismantling the cold, detached wall he had spent the last twenty-four hours building against her.
he had been looking at her actions through the lens of betrayal, thinking she didn't value his protection or his trust. but hearing her admit that she felt so fundamentally unlovableâthat she was treating her own safety as a currency to buy his peaceâmade his heart ache with a completely different kind of pain.
slowly, the tension left his shoulders. the rigid, stone-cold posture evaporated. jay let out a long, shaky breath that sounded suspiciously like a sob and before yn could say another word, he closed the remaining inches between them.
he didn't just hold her hand; he reached up, his large, warm palms cupping her face entirely, his thumbs wiping the hot tears from her cheeks with a desperate, fiercely tender intensity.
"you absolute idiot," jay breathed out, his voice cracking violently as his own tears finally broke free, blurring his vision. he leaned forward, pressing his forehead firmly against hers, his breath hitching. "you stupid, beautiful, absolute idiot."
"seongie..."
"how many times do i have to tell you?" jay whispered fiercely, his grip on her face tightening just enough to ground her. "i don't love you because you're perfect, yn. i don't love you because your life is neat and convenient. i love you. the mess, the late hours, the anxietiesâall of it. i took on your weight the day i asked you to be mine and i have never once thought it was too heavy."
he pulled back just enough to force her to look into his eyes, his gaze burning with a raw, undeniable truth.
"do you really think my peace comes from you suffering in the dark?" jay asked, his voice shaking with a profound emotion. "my peace is walking through that front door and seeing you safe on the couch. my peace is knowing that whatever storm is hitting your life, i am the one holding the umbrella over your head. when you hide your problems from me, you aren't protecting my peace, yn. you're starving me of my purpose."
yn let out a loud, choked sob, her hands flying up to wrap around his wrists, holding his palms against her face as if her life depended on it. the crushing weight of the breakup she had been anticipating suddenly lifted, replaced by the overwhelming, healing warmth of his grace.
"i'm sorry," she wept, her nose bumping against his as she clung to him. "i'm so sorry for lying to you. i promise i won't ever do it again. i'll tell you everything, even the stupid things. even when i think i'm a burden."
"you are never a burden, baby," jay swore, his voice dropping into a low, fiercely protective rumble. he shifted his weight, sliding onto the couch beside her and pulling her entirely into his lap, mindful of her bandaged ankle. he wrapped his arms around her waist, burying his face deep into the crook of her neck, inhaling the familiar, comforting scent of her body wash that had been entirely missing from his day.
"if you don't know how to let me all the way in, then i'll teach you," jay murmured against her skin, his strong arms tightening around her until there wasn't a single shred of space left between them. "we'll figure it out together, step by step. but no more secrets, baby. no more walking in the dark alone."
"no more secrets," yn promised, her arms wrapping tightly around his neck, burying her face into his shoulder as the final remnants of her exhaustion took over.
in the kitchen, a collective, silent sigh of relief swept over sunghoon, jungwon, and sunoo. the suffocating tension that had gripped the apartment since the previous night finally dissolved, replaced by the quiet, steady rhythm of two people rebuilding their foundation.
âą pairing: studentpresident!jungwon x fem!reader
âą genre: friends to lovers, soft angst
âą warning: ed, physical contact, brief mentions of familial strains
âą author note: im experimenting w writing in this perspective with y/n, im not very used to it so if there are mistakes pls bear w me TT but hope u enjoyed this oneshot as much as i enjoyed writing it. i was dreaming one day about how jungwon would be perceived in school, and this just came up while i was reading about eating disorders for sch so here it is <3
dedicated to my first engene friend đ€
orion's belt had 3 stars, jungwon had always been y/n's fourth. the one who never left, even when she tried to fade into the dark.
you always hated lunch.
too loud, too exposed, too full of wandering eyes
started w skipping once or twice -- 'i'm not hungry,' 'i had a big breakfast,' or 'i need to catch up on work in the library.'
then came the numbers. the quiet control. the feeling of being powerful for needing lesser.
people only notice when you disappear totally. never when you do it bit by bit.
except him. yang jungwon. he noticed everything.
"you didn't eat again."
you froze at your seat at the library table, eyes locked on your textbook, the pen in your hand paused mid writing.
he didn't raise his voice, didn't sigh, didn't do anything. just...said it.
you glanced up slowly, with a small sheepish look. "how do you know?"
jungwon placed a small bento box on the table. the box was a white and blue cinamonroll one. the specific one he had you pick out once when you guys went to run errands with your families at the supermarket. meaning he didn't just buy a bento from the canteen. he made it.
"you said you were 'full from breakfast' this morning. you haven't done that since february." he paused. "and you chewed your pen cap. you only do that when your stressed or hungry."
you blinked. he'd been keeping track.
of you.
"you didn't have to--"
"i know. but i did." he cut you off gently. "because you won't."
you glanced away. the silence was heavy.
"i'm not mad," he added as he pulled a chair out and sat down, his tie loose around his neck. "i just.. i worry. you matter more than your grades. or your weight. or anything else your head's been lying to you about lately."
your throat tightened.
no one else had noticed. not your teachers, classmates. not even your mum.
but jungwon... he always saw through you like glass.
when your father's surgery failed, something inside you shattered into smithereens.
it wasn't JUST grief -- it was guilt.
guilt that you weren't there for him. guilt for being here, breathing, eating, existing when he no longer could.
memories of you being pulled out of your mid terms literature paper exam, with sharp words from your mum over the phone 'he might not make it'
you ran out of the school without looking back, hoping you could get to the hospital in time but.....
you were too late.
so you stopped.
stopped eating. stopped talking. stopped showing up for life.
but again....jungwon stayed.
he found you in the rain after school, sitting on the concrete steps behind the gym, soaked, shivering and staring into a void.
"you should've called me," he murmured, holding the umbrella over you as he knelt beside you.
"i didn't want to be seen like this."
"you think i haven't seen you at your lowest?" he said gently. "you think this would make me leave?"
you didn't answer.
he wrapped his arms around you anyway, the umbrella falling to the ground as he tucked you into his chest like you were something fragile and sacred.
"nothing can make me leave you y/n."
you let yourself cry. finally.
you stopped trying to pretend with him.
you admitted that the hunger wasn't really physical. that eating felt like failure. that looking in the mirror sometimes made your chest cave in.
he didn't try to fix you with cheesy phrases or guilt.
he just stayed.
after that day, he started knocking on your door every morning with pre-made meals labelled with jokes.
he sends you voice memos at lunch time:
"two bites for me, one for that annoying history teacher, and five for your brain that works way too hard."
he even made you a private calendar -- not for weight or food -- but for the moments you showed up for yourself.
and he never once judged when you didn't.
it was under the stars, on the night of the school's meteor viewing, that you realised something.
he never saw you as broken. never pitied you.
he just loved you -- quietly, steadfastly, without conditions.
jungwon rushed out to find you after his council meeting, hands full with a picnic mat and a bag full of finger food that he hopes will pique your stomach.
"i used to think needing help made me weak," you said, lying next to him on the picnic mat.
jungwon looked up at the sky. "you ever notice how stars don't shine alone?"
you turned to him, curious.
"they exist in constellations. they guide each other. they belong together. needing someone isn't a weakness. its human."
you blinked with a soft smile, spreading across your face. "since when were you so poetic?"
"since i fell in love with a girl who doesn't see how bright she is," he murmured, voice soft, comforting and certain as he glances over at you.
both stared at each other with understanding gazes, and for once you followed your heart. you pulled him closer and kissed him.
for the first time, your heart didn't race from fear -- but from the simple, stunning truth that you were still here.
alive. wanted. loved.
later, when your head rested on his shoulder and the stars wheeled slowly above you, he whispered:
"you're not a burden. you never were."
you closed your eyes.
and for the first time in a long long time, you believed him.
summary. the slow life on the west coast was something you've always wanted to escapeâand yet, after four draining years of trying to keep up with the hustle leave you empty and lost, you find yourself back under the same skies of southern california, in the same suburbs that smell of tobacco and eucalyptus, bumping into the same person you thought you'd left behind along with your old life.
pairing. heeseung x y/n
genre. exes to lovers, summer au, angst, fluff, very light smut, y/n inner turmoil :)
word count. 17.1k
disclaimers. swearing, alcohol, smoking, sex (one rly small smut scene), mental illness, family issues, brief mention of suicidal thoughts, heeseung and y/n are both painfully human, heeseung is a bartender and also rides a motorcycle, y/n is avoidant to the point where this is vaguely one-sided enemies shaped, she's also an #overthinker, setting inaccuracies probably, as per usual the pacing is ass i'm actually so sorryđ
playlist. earrings, malcolm todd â friend, gracie abrams â peanut butter & tears, dpr ian â japanese denim, daniel caesar â telepatia, kali uchis â nothing's gonna hurt you baby, cigarettes after sex â the cure, olivia rodrigo â hide & seek, etta marcus â summer, the volunteers
author's note. starting to think i'm not built for any of this bc writing this took a decade off my lifespan like i genuinely Died from exhaustion. i'm really worried about this fic but i truly. from the bottom of my heart hope everyone enjoys it because i really did work hard on this:( once again please let me know all ur thoughts!!!
masterlist
any feedback is appreciated àŽŠà”àŽŠàŽż(ïœĄâąÌ á<)
âYou filthy liar!â The woman wails, shrill with betrayal. Her lover tries to reach her, a flimsy explanation on his tongue (âEleanor, waitââ) but sheâs already crumpled to the ground in a heap of silk and despair. One of her dainty, carefully-manicured hands is curled into a white-knuckled fist, rattling the floorboards as she pounds at them. âYou never loved me, Henry!â
You grimace.Â
Whoever greenlit the decision to have regular programming switch to infinite reruns of soap operas past midnight truly did not charm you.Â
Reaching a hand behind you, you palm around for the remote, careful to avoid Maeâs sleeping form; and when your fingers brush against the familiar, cold plastic, youâre quick to put the television on mute. A small act of protest, you deem.
The room is plunged into quiet. With a faint sigh, you let your head fall backward against the couch cushion, staring at the ceiling for a moment before tilting your face to look at Mae. As the scenes change on the screen, different areas of her face are highlighted and shadowed in different shades of blue light.
Since you can remember, your best friend has always had a tendency to work herself up over your sleepoversâgushing about what the two of you would do, making sure her pantry was chock-full of junk foodâonly to fall asleep before the two of you could really sink your teeth into anything. Sheâd been vibrating with excitement when you told her you were back in town, practically dragging you over to her house before you could even properly unpackâand lo and behold, here she is. Dead to the world.
Some things never change, it seems. Los Angeles traffic is still as horrific as it was, and the cicadasâ clicking still manages to pass through closed windows, and much to your surprise, the vodka sauce at Ralphâs still goes for $4.49 a jar. Maeâs nose still scrunches in her sleep.
The California you left is the same one you came back to.
You arenât sure whether that should relieve you or not.
Blood rushes back into your legs as you push yourself up from the floor, the sensation slightly icy. You meander around the house for a bit, refamiliarizing yourself with the small changes in the otherwise familiar space (the coffee you had had a little too late into the afternoon had left you restless) before you end up in the kitchen.
Maeâs mother does the cooking in the family, which means the kitchen is arranged to her taste: all whites and sage greens and silver accents. Maeâs father is an old-fashioned man who still reads the paper every morning, which means thereâs a copy of yesterdayâs The Los Angeles Times thatâs been haphazardly tossed on the central island. You find yourself sliding onto one of the leather stools, reaching for itâpicking a pencil from the stationery tin (a rainbow-patterned one with the words You rock! printed on the side; something the homeroom teachers used to hand out in grade school) and flipping to the daily crossword.
Itâs a mundane hobby. Something you picked up a few months ago. Youâre hoping the mundanity will help wear down the caffeine.
1-Across: Something a lifeguard might tell you poolside, perhaps
SLOWDOWN, you scribble in.
âEverythingâs so slow here,â your friend, Emma, complains over the din of your high school cafeteria, popping another cube of watermelon into her mouth. You had lunch right after art class, so her toffee blonde hair was slightly mussed, and there were smatterings of dried acrylic paint on her hands. âYou know, in New York, people always rush everywhere. Thatâs why we can tell when someoneâs a tourist, âcause they walk too slow. You know what I mean?â
If thereâs one thing youâve learnt about Emma since she moved to Orange County at the start of ninth grade, itâs that she hates it hereâand if it were up to her, she would be on the first plane flying back east. She misses snow, walking everywhere, the Macyâs parade. She misses when it âfelt like there was always something happening.â
Usually, you just let her vent, figuring her parents werenât at home enough for the possibility of them being understanding towards their teenage daughterâs homesickness to even present itself. In a way, it made you feel validated; even though youâve lived here your whole life, you, too, resent California.
You resent how your aunt only gave you a polite, somewhat perplexed smile when you said you wanted go out-of-state, and how it seemed like the only thing any of the girls in your senior year would talk about was what sororities they planned on rushing, and how everyone youâve ever known growing up acts like they have infinite amounts of time. âEverything will always work itself out,â you recall many of them saying. Even the local infrastructure reflects a government who seems to have no desire for its people to flourish, like the offensively awful roads.
Why does nobody have a sense of urgency? Or want to see bigger things and live bigger lives? Locals and tourists alike litter the beaches along the coast everyday and yet you had grown sick of it all. You feel stuck, like a hysterical bird in a cage.
You pick at your lunch.Â
âI know what you mean. It sucks here,â you offer, which pleases Emma.
Boston is where you ended up. You had considered New York, admittedly influenced by Emmaâs gushing, but after conducting some research, Boston seemed to be cleaner and was even farther away from Orange County than New York was.
So, as soon as you graduated, you packed up your life, got on the plane, and flew too close to the sun.
You were miserable in Boston.
Torturously so, you learned that Emma mustâve been utterly blinded by homesickness, because it turns out that there was nothing glamorous about the hustle. That romanticizing the idea of reaping the fruits of oneâs labour only kept a person optimistic if their labour bore fruits at all.Â
The majority of people you met there were as interesting as bricks. The recruiters at career fairs didnât spare you a glance, let alone the time of day; and every club position or internship you applied to seemed to be taken by a D1 athlete son or a millionaireâs daughter. Each time you got beaten down, the drive you had gone there with would be exhausted further, without it feeling like you ever were going anywhere.
After four years of telling yourself you hated California more than you hated being lonely, you reached your breaking point.Â
In a dingy, single-stall bathroom in the student union building, you had called your mother, shaking with sobs.
You were inconsolable, body racked with sorrow and helplessnessâonly barely able to choke out the words âIâm so tiredâ and âI hate it here.â
âYou can always come home,â sheâd said, kindly, patiently. Something you swallowed down that, in your anger with yourself, tasted like pity. It made your pride wail in protest.
And yet, you had yielded. Winding up right back in your hometown with insecurities gnawing at you about how youâre only back here because you werenât good enough to make it out there. Feeling like you âbelongâ anywhere had become even more of a pipe dream than it already wasâbut you donât have an address in Boston anymore, and your father helped set you up with a decent job at a brokerage firm up in Irvine that you were set to start the coming Monday.Â
You try to find comfort in the fact that thereâs nothing you can do.
28-Down: Julia Roberts or Angelina Jolie
STAR.
âYou pierced your ears?â
Propped up by the elbow, you watch as his eyes flutter open to look up at you. His gaze is warm and half-lidded, like the sleepy heat of incoming summer. A small smirk appears on his face at your curious expression. âMhm.â
Your high school has a large, stately willow tree tucked away at the back of the soccer field that the two of you like to lounge under while you had spare periods and he skipped classes that, in his words, âwerenât important.â Grass tickles your bare legs, so you slot them between his while gently toying with the silver cross dangling from his earlobe. âYou went to that place I found on Google Maps?â
âI did it myself,â he murmurs, tilting his head to give you better access.
You freeze. âHeeseung, what do you mean you did it yourself?â
Heeseungâs hand is warm on your waist, tugging you closer into his side. âRelax, star girl. I bought a kit. You know Aidan did his with a safety pin?â
At this point, youâre horrified. âThatâsâ heâs gonna get an infection! What if you alsoââ
An indignified yelp nearly leaves you when his lips are suddenly on yours, swallowing the sound. He kisses you sweetly, only pulling away to whisper against your mouth that you âworry too muchâ before closing the gap again. It doesnât take much to get you to lose yourself in him.
In a perfect world, you were so eager to get out of California for the sole reason that you had too much ambition. Too much greed for fulfillment and the wonders life had to offer. You werenât a coward, and you didnât prefer running away from large emotions over admitting that you were just as affected by heartbreak as the next person.Â
The pencil punctures a hole through the newsprint, right where the letter R that you wrote finishes. Your fingertips are red, your knuckles are white, and thereâs a familiar burning in your nose.
You havenât seen Lee Heeseung in four years.Â
Itâs a streak you pathetically hoped to keep up for the rest of your lifeâbut, now that youâre back, it seems impossible.Â
You can only pray that you moved on as much as you think you did.
The success of your fatherâs career had left him quite well-connected; a fact you wrestle with accepting due to the disappointing outcomes of your own networking efforts in college but, nonetheless, ends you up in the firmâs most recently-opened branch.Â
Itâs a nice, modern, ten-storey mid-riseâa good thing for you, since those absurdly tall towers always made you queasy by just looking up at themâwith highlights like a few open-air workspaces and a rooftop garden. Inconveniently, you happen to start the job while theyâre in the middle of renovating the air conditioning, so the windows near your corner of the fifth floor have been cracked open since you got there.Â
Today, the weatherâs rather forgivingâthereâs a cool breeze instead of a warm one.
Youâre in the break room, making a few copies of the interim report that youâve been working on for the past few days, when you hear the door click open. Glancing over, you see Yerim, a senior analyst on your team, push through the threshold with a scowl on her face.Â
Only two years older than you, Yerim had been the most welcoming to you when you first got here, and you found out that sheâs from the same area as you. Sheâs chic, tooâyouâve been meaning to ask her where she got the pair of burgundy kitten heels she always wears to the office.
Her head swivels left to right. After making sure youâre the only person inside the room, she lets out a rather unrefined groan.Â
You give her a sympathy smile. âI take it that the meeting was boring?â
âAnd useless. What sane person holds an hour long meeting just to revise KPIs?â
You make small talk, conscious of your volume in case somebody catches you loitering in the break room on company time (not that youâve ever been a particular stickler for the rules, but considering that youâve only been here a week, you must still be on some kind of unspoken probation period). Eventually, the conversation flows into Yerim asking if you wanted to get drinks with her after work.
âThereâs this place I go to all the time for their happy hour,â she tells you, eyes bright. âThey do these crazy seven-dollar truffle fries thatâ Holy shit. Iâd be buried with them if I could.â To which you let out a small laugh.
The last time youâd really gone out for fun mustâve been months agoâto that pub with the members of your capstone project. It was okay, at worst a little unmemorable, so maybe going out with Yerim would be a nice thing. Youâd come back home with the resolve to be at least a little bit more optimistic about life here, anyway.
Whatâs the worst that could happen?
The copy machine spits out the final copy of your report, which you take and stack onto the rest of them. âI could go for a drink.â
Yerimâs arm links through yours the moment you step out of the car.
The setting sun casts long shadows between buildings and makes the asphalt warm beneath your soles; laughter and bossa nova tracks are faintly carried from nearby restaurants; and freshly clocked-out businessmen with loosened ties share a cigarette in front of their parked cars.
Itâs nice, actually. You soak it all in.
You let Yerim drag you along until she stops in front of an ominously plain black door with a single, two-inch wide strip of window. It takes squinting for you to realize that there are tiny etched letters right underneath it.Â
âThe Magnolia?â you murmur.
âBest speakeasy in the area, in my opinion. Specialty is Japanese liquors,â Yerim says, before letting out a weary sigh. âBut apparently someone snuck their teen influencer sister in and she made a video about it, so now itâs a lot more crowded than it used to be.â
She leads you down a dimly lit staircase that wraps around itself a few times until you arrive at another door, identical to the one out on the street. Grasping the onyx door handle, Yerim shoots you a look. Thereâs a glint in her eyes that you arenât sure whether you should be worrying about.
Inside, the first thing you notice is that the room is larger than you expected. Itâs moody and marigold-lit, with people scattered across the establishmentâs lacquer tables and red leather seats on the floor and at the bar alike. As Yerim had noted, thereâs an impressive display of Japanese liquor bottles behind the bar.
Delicate fingers wrap around your wrist. Yerim jerks her head towards two empty spots at the bar, gently tugging you along. âCâmon!â
You follow after her, hoisting yourself up onto the tall stool; exhaling softly through your nose when the cold, polished surface of the counter presses against your forearms. The low conversations of the other patrons and the different aromas wafting from the kitchen delight your senses. As you prop your elbow up to cradle your cheek in your palm, you can physically feel the muscles in your body going lax.Â
This is nice, you think to yourself again. Maybe it was always this nice.
Existential self-negotiations always seem to find you, no matter the place or time. Somehow, even after having them plague you for your entire life, you still let them sweep you awayâbecause you certainly donât notice Yerim catching the attention of the bartender, and you certainly donât notice him approaching the two of you. Itâs only when the bleary outline of a body enters your peripheral vision do you snap out of your daze and look up.
Lee Heeseung stands in front of you, holding a cocktail shaker.
In that moment, several bodily sensations rip through youâmost overwhelmingly of which is nausea.
Fuck.
Youâre frozen. Physically incapable of moving out of shock; forced to bear the feeling of five hundred different emotions churning in the pit of your stomach, all while looking into his eyes.Â
Something indecipherable passes over his face.
He recognizes you, too.
Somehow, Yerim doesnât notice your predicament. âCan we open a tab?â she asks simply. âOh, and also look at the happy hour menu.â
Heeseungâs eyes flit over to Yerim, as if assessing the situation, before his lips naturally fall back into the charming smile he always wore behind the bar. He picks a laminated menu from its holder and slides it over.
âOf course.â His voice is smooth as water. âTake your time. You can just wave me over whenever youâre ready to order.â
Yerim proceeds to pore over the menu, pointing out which things sheâs tried and which ones she hasnât but has heard good things about. The rational part of you feels bad about how everything sheâs saying is going in one ear and out the other, but youâre despite yourself. Your eyes, ever-so-slightly glassy, are helplessly fixed on him.
Lee Heeseung looks different from what you remember.Â
His once jet black hair is now a platinum shade of blond. Heâs taller, broaderâyou can see the way his shoulders just barely strain against the fabric of his bartending uniform; a black dress shirt that he has the audacity to not button all the way upâand thereâs a piercing on his right browbone.Â
Futilely, you hope it just isnât him. That itâs actually someone else who just looks like him (or maybe someone else who doesnât look like him at all, and itâs just your mind fucking with you after coming back here). The Lee Heeseung you knew wanted to be a musician. Since when did he fucking bartend?
Yet, you knew it was a losing game the moment you saw him.
Round, doe-like eyes, sharpened when paired with regal brows. The same slope of the nose, the same heart-shaped curve of the lips.
You watch as he tends to a couple on the other side of the bar. His movements are graceful and practiced and infuriatingly suaveâand youâre begging the traitorous part of your brain that found him hot to fuck off.
The notion of time healing has always been less of a source of comfort for you than it has been motivation. Perhaps itâs spiteful and childish, but you wanted to prove that breaking up with Lee Heeseung wasnât the mistake that your sinking stomach has always told you it was. You would get over him, and after you did, you would hold your nose up high and wear it like a badge of honour.
But at that moment, Heeseung looks over at you and Yerim. Itâs nothing more than a mere glanceâprobably to check on whether you were ready to order or notâbut to your absolute horror, your gaze meets his.
Reality, in the form of another rolling wave of dread, washes over you mercilessly.
The sirens in your head start blaring. Nope, nope, nope. Not today.
âYerim,â you blurt out, cringing with guilt for cutting her off. âListen, Iâm soâ Iâm so sorry, but I donât feel that great.â
Brows furrowing in worry, Yerim asks, âWhatâs wrong? Are you okay?â
âIâm fine.â You rack your brain for an excuse. â...mustâve been something I, uhm, ate at lunch,â you get out, laughing awkwardly while gathering your things. âLetâs do this another time. Iâll treat you, promise.â
As expected, Yerim is unconvinced by your lousy excuse, a frown marring her dainty features as she watches you slide off your seat. âAre you sure youâre good to drive? Do you want me to call you an Uber?â
âOh, thatâs so sweet, but Iâll be fine. Iâll see you!â
You hear an indistinct âokayâ from behind you, swallowed by the rest of the bar as you rush to the exit.
Lee Heeseung seems to have a sort of relaxed, easy demeanor while working that makes him really good with customers. Itâs made his boss take a strong liking to him, which is both a blessing and a curseâit makes his pay better, but it also means he ends up with longer shifts.Â
Itâs a quarter past midnight when he finally steps out onto the street.Â
The number of cars on the road had lessened while the number of people on the sidewalks had grown as they make their way towards the districtâs nightlife. A breeze blows by as Heeseung walks up to the curb, brushing his hair into his eyes. He untangles a pair of wired headphones, using one hand to tuck them into his ears while the other shuffles through his playlist.Â
Steve Lacy. Kali Uchis. DEAN. He settles on Daniel Caesar.Â
Satisfied, he tucks his phone away before letting out a deep exhale. He had sworn to himself to always be professional while working, so itâs only when heâs finally alone does he try to discreetly compose himself and gather his scattered thoughts. His fingers twitch a little, itching for a smoke.
A few minutes later, a familiar grey Civic pulls up to the curb, rolling to a stop in front of him. Pausing his music, he approaches it and pulls the passenger side door open. Jake Sim greets him from the driverâs seat, eyes gleaming. âYou been waiting long?â
âThree hours,â Heeseung drawls, arm propped up on the open door.
Jake grins. âFuck! I was tryna make it five.â
As Heeseung slings himself into the passenger seat, Jake bends over the glove compartment, rummaging around in the backseat until he produces an In-N-Out takeout bag. âI went with Hoon earlier and took some out for you. Figured your fatass could use a pick-me-up.â
Heeseungâs eyebrows shoot up when he sees it, taking it from him and ripping the stapled top open. âHoly shit,â he murmurs, peering inside. A double-double, animal-style fries, and a medium Coke. âYou want me to suck you off when we get back?â
âYouâre so fucking gross, man. Just eat your burger.â
Heeseung snickers, stabbing the straw into his Coke. âYouâre right. Minjeong would probably have it out for me.â
Silence blankets over them as the car cruises through the streets. Slouched against the car door, Heeseung eats quietly, watching everythingâbuildings, palm trees, the occasional night joggerâroll by outside of the window. Slowly falling into the way it all seemed to blur together.
For some reason, whenever Heeseung gets lost in his own head, his mind seems to drift to you.Â
Sometimes for seconds, sometimes for minutes. Sometimes not at all, sometimes for so long it makes him want to tear his hair out. It usually happens when heâs reminded of you, like a memory popping up on his phone or an Instagram story from a mutual friend wishing you happy birthdayâbut he definitely hadnât expected to actually see you ever again, really. You used to talk so tenaciously about getting out of California, so the second that you actually did, he thought youâd never be back.
He only snaps out of his daze when the car comes to a halt at a red light, making the outside of the window unblur. Jake snaps his fingers next to his ear. âHeeseung.â
âHuh?â Heeseung blinks.
âI was asking if you wanted the aux.â
âOh. Play whatever, Iâm good with anything.â
Jake taps around on his phone for a bit before a Frank Ocean song starts playing from the surround speakers, bouncing off the walls and filling the air. The red light changes to green, and the car starts up again. âWhy are you so distracted?â
âI have no idea what youâre talking about.â
âCut the shit, dude. Youâre all quiet. Itâs freaky.â
Heeseung rolls his eyes before closing them, letting his head fall back against the headrest.Â
âY/Nâs back,â he mumbles.
Jake, who had been mindlessly drumming to the rhythm against the steering wheel, falters. âWhat?â
âY/Nâs back in town.â
âLike, Y/N L/N? That Y/N?â
âYeah.â
A pause. Heeseung looks over at Jake, whose brows are knotted together just slightly. âReally?â he asks, incredulous.
âYeah. She came in earlier.â
âAlone?â
âNah. With a girl. I didnât recognize her, though.â
Huffing air past his lips, Jake shakes his head. âMan, I thought she was never gonna come back to Cali. Thatâs what my mom said her mom made it sound like, at least.â
Your mother and Jakeâs mother were close friends, often going out for things like coffee or brunch or Costco sprees (Jakeâs mother holds a Costco membership that, bless her heart, she lets others abuse).Â
âDid your mom know?â Heeseung prods.
Jake shrugs. âIf she did know, she didnât tell me. She probably hasnât been back for long,â he says. âSo⊠are you gonna try and talk to her?â
Heeseung laughs dryly. âShe ran out the second she saw me.â
Almost comically, Jakeâs phone dies, leaving the car quiet. Jakeâs mouth opens, then closes, then opens again, and a beat goes by before he manages anything.
âWell,â he reasons. âSheâs always been a little⊠I dunno⊠like that. Also, no one really expects to see their ex in a random bar.â
âI guess.â
âI mean, I think you should talk to her. Sheâs probably changed, like, in at least some aspects. Maybe the two of you can work it out.â
âWork it out? Are you serious?â
âDude,â Jake deadpans. âYouâve been hung up on the same girl for the last four years, and by some fucking miracle, sheâs back. Donât sit here and bullshit in my face.â
âOkay, youâre wrong. Iâm not âhung upâ on her anymore.â
âYeah, well, youâve never moved on. Potato potahto.â
Sighing, Heeseung mutters, âI donât want to do anything if she clearly wants nothing to do with me, man.â
Jake doesnât yield. âBut youâd probably feel better if you at least tried.â
âWhy would I feel better if sheâs just going to tell me what sheâs already made clear?â
âThatâs only if she shuts you down. What if she says yes and the two of you run off into the sunset?â
A tired groan rips from Heeseung throat, half-muffled by his hand as he scrubs it down his face. âGod, youâre so fucking optimistic. It pisses me off.â
âYeah, and between the two of us, whoâs cuffed and who isnât?â Jake shoots back, only snickering when Heeseung shoves at him.
Maeâs childhood bedroom is the smallest bedroom in her house. Her window is west-facing and has salmon-coloured curtains, so when theyâre drawn, sunlight filters through them and soaks the room in a cozy pale pink.Â
Itâs a museum of all the different stages of her life and, in a way, of yours too.Â
Polaroids are pinned to the fairy lights that are strung up on her cream-white walls, many of which feature you. The soju bottles that she snuck from her fatherâs stash the first time the two of you drank are displayed on her dresser. Your last day before flying to Boston was spent in here, hugging your sobbing best friend while promising to call as soon as you landed. Its walls likely hold more of your secrets and memories than your own do.
As such, Mae knows all the joys and qualms Lee Heeseung has brought you over the yearsâand apparently like everything else, that hasnât changed.
Your back hits her bed with a muted thud as you flop back against it, hair splayed out against the stitched quilt. Youâre holding Maeâs stuffed Winnie the Pooh (who, despite already having a name, Mae has named Hugh G. Rection), squeezing it against your chest while you stare up at the slowly whirling ceiling fan.Â
âI just ran out,â you groan. âI was with a coworker, too.â
Maeâs sat a bit across from you at her vanity, crocheting a Miffy keychain for her tote bag. Shrugging, she offers, âPretty normal reaction to being jumpscared by your ex.â
Rolling over to look at her, your cheek squishes against the blanket. âHe seems so⊠different. You know he dyed his hair blond?â you murmur in thorough disbelief. âMeanwhile he probably thinks Iâm the exact same.â
âWho cares about what he thinks if heâs the one who got dumped?â Mae mocks, before finally tearing her gaze away from her crochet work to give you a deadpan stare. âOh, wait. You do. Because you regret dumping him.â
An instinctive scoff escapes you. You grumble under your breath about how she âdidnât have to rub it in.â
No matter how hard youâve tried to run away from it or leave it for dead, breaking up with Heeseung is something that has haunted you all these yearsâalways coming out of hiding to choke you from behind when your brain gets just a bit too silent.
Leading up to it, Heeseung had been distant.
He would take hours longer than usual to respond to messages, his phone often went to voicemail, and when you sought him out (because, at some point, he had stopped seeking you out), he was detached. You would feel his hands on your waist and his lips on yours; but you could tell his heart wasnât in it, at least not then.
You vaguely knew that he had a strained relationship with his father; one that only got worse after his mother passed. So, despite not knowing much, you truly tried to be as compassionate and understanding as you could be about his struggles or anything that seemed to come from his struggles.
But the gap between the two of you became so dark and scary and unbearably vexing. It felt like the more you tried to bridge it, the wider it would become.
Next thing you knew, the words weâre done were leaving your lips.Â
It was rash and impulsive and not in any way lucid, but you couldnât stop it from coming out, and if you had just had the next thirty or so seconds to collect yourself, you mightâve been stumbling over an apology.
Instead, the colour drained from your face.
Okay, he said.
That day, Lee Heeseung let you go without a fight.
For the first few years, you were nothing but just as angry as you were that day. Yet, as more time passed, youâve become less sure exactly what to think about it. As much as Mae and the people over on the r/AmITheAsshole subreddit have told you otherwise, at some point you started finding it less emotionally burdensome to berate your seventeen-year-old self for being stupid and reckless than to harbour so much resentment towards him. Youâre swallowed by a shame that feeds upon itself: shame over what youâd done to him curdling into shame over how the dignity you prided yourself so much on having wasnât untouchable.
It makes your head hurt.
âIâm just pissed off because I was supposed toâ to have moved on, you know?â you lament. âI was supposed to leave this place behind, leave him behind, but all Iâve done is come back to it and I canât even say that Iâve moved on from the guy I dated when I was seventeen. Seventeen!â
Giving you a knowing, mildly exasperated look, Mae sighs. âOh, babes. You really havenât changed.â
Just as you open your mouth to curse at her, your phone vibrates. Snatching it up from next to you on the blanket, you glare at the screen.
(4:34PM) HEESEUNG: hey y/n itâs heeseung
(4:34PM) HEESEUNG: do you still use this number
âOh joy,â you spit bitterly. âHe just fucking texted me. I knew I shouldâve gotten a new number after switching phones.â
A pause. Mae squints, suspicious. âGive me your phone.â
Without thinking about it much, you hand it to her. You just want it out of your face.
(4:36PM) Y/N: yeah
âMae, why are you typing?â
âIâm not.â
(4:36PM) HEESEUNG: hi haha
(4:36PM) HEESEUNG: itâs been a while
(4:36PM) HEESEUNG: i was just wondering if u wanted to catch up
âHeâs asking if you want to catch up.â
âTell him to fuck off.â
(4:37PM) Y/N: sureÂ
(4:37PM) HEESEUNG: when are u free?
(4:37PM) Y/N: i donât have work on weekends
(4:38PM) HEESEUNG: i can do saturday afternoon
(4:39PM) HEESEUNG: Do u still like lemon blueberry scones?
(4:39PM) HEESEUNG: i know a nice bakery
Sitting up on your knees, you lean your weight onto one hand, the other trying to snatch your phone back. âWhat are youââ
(4:40PM) Y/N: saturday sounds good
(4:40PM) Y/N: send me the place ^^
Finally, Mae tosses your phone back to you a little too smugly for your liking. You hastily pick it up, flipping it around and scanning over what stared back at you on the screen.
You chuck Hugh G. Rection straight at her head. âYouâre such a fucking bitch!â
She holds up her arms, the stuffed animal bouncing off them and onto the floor with a muted thump. âThink about it,â she says with a click of her tongue. âThe only reason why heâd text you, let alone ask you to catch up, is because he isnât over you. Heâs not over you, you arenât over him. Put two and two together.â
âCanât we just print out a picture of his face and throw darts at it?â
Crossing her arms, Mae sighs. âWe could throw a million darts at his face and youâd still be going âwhat if I hadnât broken up with him?â forever. Itâs a sunk cost fallacy. I think talking to him is the better option.â
âAnd then what? Get back together with him?â
âI meant closure, babes. But I guess getting back together works. If he hurts you again Iâll just break all of his bones and shave him bald.â
You wish you could say youâve never entertained the thought of getting back together with Heeseung, but it always felt like pathetic, wishful thinking because you always thought he wouldnât want the same. Otherwise, why would he have let you go so easily?
âDo you think heâs really changed?â you ask quietly.
Mae purses her lips with a soft shrug of her shoulders. âI mean, Iâd hope so, considering that heâs an adult now, but Iâm not sure. The last time I even saw the guy was at one of Jay Parkâs house parties, like, two years ago?â She pauses, gaze flitting to the ceiling as she racks her brain for more information. âOh, I also heard he lives with the Sims now.â
Your brows knot in confusion. âLike, Jake Simâs family?â
âYeah.â
âWhy?â
âDunno. I heard it from Janice. She told me her little sisterâs in Girl Scouts and that one time, while she was taking her around the neighbourhood to sell cookies, they went up to Jakeâs door and Heeseung answered. But, Iâm not sure if he actually lives there or not.â
âHuh.â Your tongue pokes your cheek. âThatâs news to me.â
âMaybe you can ask him about it on your date,â Mae muses, picking her crochet work back up.
âCall it a date one more time and Iâll unthread Hugh.â
âSee, this is why you need to go. You keep threatening violence against my son.â
At one point in your life, you wouldâve never fathomed that you could be nervous to see Lee Heeseung.
He had always been the person you ran to whenever the sky felt like it was falling and you didnât know what to do to stop it from crushing you. Nirvana existed in the pools of his fond, half-lidded eyes and the crooning lilt of his voice, peppering kisses across your cheeks as you sunk into his hold like it was an endless abyss.
Now, youâre standing in front of the bakery heâd asked you to meet him inâa quaint mom-and-pop in an alleyway that split off from a bigger main roadâhesitating to even go inside.
You smooth out the wrinkles in your top.Â
Youâre fidgeting. It sickens you enough that you muster up the will to grasp the door handle. An overhead bell jingles as you push inside.
Youâre immediately hit by the rich scents of warm vanilla and browned butter, clinging thickly to the air. The worker behind the counter greets you, to whom you give a small smile. Itâs a cozy space, with blackboard menus written in chalk hanging above the register and only a handful of seats next to the window looking out at the narrow streetâall of which are empty.Â
He isnât here yet, you realize. Your shoulders drop a little.
Adjusting your sleeves for the nth time, you step up to the counter. Your eyes scan over the colourful assortment of breads, cakes, and pastries on display, all beautifully decorated and slightly imperfect in a way that could only come from human hands. Eventually, they land on the lemon blueberry scones he had mentioned, marked with a star and the word bestseller scrawled next to it in looping white marker.Â
âHi,â you greet the worker. âCould I just get a lemon blueberry scone, please?â
After your order is fulfilled, you take it with you over to one of the tables, sliding into the seat with a small exhale. For a moment, you just stare at the small plate in front of you. The pastry's flaky and golden-brown at the edges, blotches of deep purple dotting it throughout to show where the blueberries are hidden. You wonder how he had even remembered.
Then, your fingers curl around the pastry fork, carefully stabbing the corner of the scone before bringing it up to your lips.Â
When it hits your tongue, your eyes slip shut.Â
God fucking damn it.Â
In all fairness, youâve yet to try a lemon blueberry scone that wasnât good; but this was a different level of warm and rich and buttery that you never thought youâd live to taste. A part of you had been hoping that it was going to be mediocre just so you didnât have to acknowledge that Heeseung did, in fact, know a nice bakeryâbut not much at all seems to go your way when it came to him.
Whatever, you think, bitterly eating another piece. The assholeâs late. If he doesnât show up in five minutes, Iâm fucking right offâ
âItâs good, isnât it?â
The sudden sound of a personâs voice makes you nearly jump out of your skin, fork clattering against the plate as you whip around in your seatâsomething you immediately regret when you come face to face with him.
Heeseung peers down at you, a hint of mirth in his eyes. He quirks a brow at your reaction.Â
âBe careful. Youâll choke,â he says.
Your neck ticks with annoyance. You'd been planning on treating him with the same courtesy and slightly awkward restraint people normally treat those they don't know very well (or, in this case, don't know very well anymore), but the audacity of him makes a scoff escape your lips. âMaybe it's because you scared me.â
With a shake of his head, Heeseung leisurely slides into the chair opposite of you. You take him in as he does: the vintage leather jacket over his shoulders, the hair that falls effortlessly in front of his forehead, the faint smatter of freckles dusting his nose and cheeks that are visible now that youâre under natural daylight.
Once seated, he prods again. âItâs good, right?â
Your lips purse together. âYeah,â you reply tersely.
Heeseung leans back slightly, arms crossing over his chest. âI didnât know you were back in town.â
âNot many people do.â
âYou look nice.â
That catches you off guard. Your eyes widen a fraction, and you can feel your ears flushing with heat, which you pray goes unnoticed. âThanks,â you manage. âYou⊠donât look too bad yourself.â
You donât look at him, instead focused on cutting your scone into more pieces with the side of your fork, because youâre also certain that if you met his gaze, youâd find that Mae is full of shit. That Lee Heeseung had only asked you to meet because heâs malicious and evil and wants to size you up, and that there was no point in getting your hopes up.Â
If you were looking at him, youâd perhaps notice the thinly veiled pleading in the way that he looked at you.
Another aproned worker comes up to your table, carrying a drink on a wooden tray. She places it in front of Heeseung, who accepts it with a smile and a brief thank you. Itâs some kind of coffee or tea-based drink. An iced latte, you assume.
Long, slender fingers holding it by its lid, he takes a sip before putting it down. âLetâs play a game,â he says, out of the blue.
âExcuse me?â you blink.
âI asked you to meet me so we could catch up. So, letâs play a game.â
âWhat are we, children?â
Heeseung tuts softly. âBoston take all your sense of fun?â
Short, disbelieving laughs leave your lips at the sheer absurdity of the premise. Heeseung watches with a small smile as you stop wringing your wrists and straighten up in your seat.
 âAnd what, pray tell, is the game?â you drawl.
âI ask you a question, you ask me a question. We rotate.â
âThatâ thatâs the game?â
âMhm,â he hums around his straw. âThat was your first question, by the way. When did you get back?â
âAre we really doing this? Two weeks ago.â
Heeseung nods a few times, processing the information, and then remains silent. Your turn, as if to say. You finally meet his eyes just to show him how unamused you are with him, but he only continues to look at you expectantly.
Rolling your eyes, you look outside of the window, where an old lady walking her pomeranian totters past. You donât have a hard time thinking of questions you want to ask him. In fact, it feels like youâre bursting at the seamsâdesperately wanting to know how he really was, what you had missed, if youâd actually dealt him a good card by breaking up with him like you thought you did all this time, the irony of which doesnât escape youâbut everything seems to settle in the back of your throat, thick as tar.
Instead, your gaze falls on his eyebrow piercing. The surface glints in the afternoon light. You give a soft jerk of your head towards it. âYou did that one yourself, too?â
âNo, I actually went mountain biking with my cousin and cut my eyebrow. I figured covering it with a piercing would make me look more metal.â
âMountain biking? No one just 'goes mountain biking'ââ
A laugh, bright and irritatingly pretty, leaves Heeseungâs lips. âIâm pulling at your leg, starâ Y/N.âÂ
He catches himself. Clears his throat weakly. You feel your stomach churn with something dreadfully close to disappointment. âI have a friend who does piercings. He also did my helix.â
âAh. I see.â
âAnd you? The Pilgrims treat you well?â
Shooting him a glare, you pop another bite of scone into your mouth. âBoston wasnât for me,â you say flatly.
âCalifornia wasnât for you, either.â
âYou know, I think I liked you better before I left. You talked back less.â
Slowly but surely, conversation flows in a steadier, more comfortable stream. Itâs upsetting how easy it is to fall back into banter with him.
Between the two of you, Heeseung talks more. You donât like admitting how your college years were average at best and miserable at worst, and you like the sound of his voice.
You learn many thingsâthat he got a bartending license around a year ago, that the old strip mall by your high school was demolished because a luxury condo group bought out the land. That Valeria Sanchez is interning at NASA, that Isaac Banks got drafted to the NBA, and that Joseph Kim dropped out of Stanford to focus on the shitty AI start-up he co-founded. You learn that his lips still form a pout when he speaks and that you can predict the inflections of his laughter.
The two of you beat dead horses from what feels like a lifetime ago (except for the one horse that was more elephant-shaped than horse-shaped), and you canât help but feel like youâre simply sitting with an old friend. It makes you wonder if you were just someone he had quietly filed away along with the rest of his adolescence; someone who was once importantâwho he could laugh about old memories with now that enough time had passed.
The last of Heeseungâs drink rattles through his straw. âJake and Minjeong are dating now.â
Youâd long since finished your scone, sitting there with your cheek propped up in your hand, a little dazed. âActually?â
âYeah. Took him two years of chasing her like a dog.â
Eyes darting to a scratch in the surface of the table, you debate back and forth whether to bring it up. Ultimately, you pry.
âMae told me you live with Jakeâs family now.â
Your try to keep your tone as casual as possible; a question in the form of a statement. But, something in his demeanor shifts. Silence falls over the two of you, until he eventually gets out, âOh, yeah. I do.â
âHow... how come?â
He wets his bottom lip, then smiles wryly. âMy dad.â
âOh,â you blurt, cringing at how stupid you sound. âHeâs still bad?â
âSomething like that.â
The tension that had just cleared had layered on again, thick and pungent. Regret sucker punches you in the gut for it.
âSorry,â you quickly murmur. âI shouldnât have asked.â
Heeseungâs gaze softens. âItâs fine.â A loaded pause. A shift behind his eyes. âNothing you donât already know.â
At this hour, the sun sits lower in the sky, now washing the world with deeper shades of orange. The bakery is noisier than it was for the first bit that you had been here, with more people filing in and out for a small evening rush.
You tap your phone screen awake to check the time. 6:10PM, it reads.
âI should get going.â The words leaves your mouth less smoothly than you hoped for, but you swat that and the rest of the trivial moments youâve been overthinking for the past two hours out of your mind. âI promised my mom Iâd help her with dinner tonight, and the next bus is in seven minutes.â
Heeseung stands up with you. âThe bus? You didnât drive here?â
âMy dad went to the golf course today and took the car.â
âLet me drive you back, then.â
Brows creasing, you wait for him to tell you heâs kidding, but it never comes. Instead, his doe-like eyes earnestly bore into yours. âIâm just parked out front.â
Suddenly, heâs swiftly moving to walk out of the bakery. You blink, trying to process what had just happened before hurriedly grabbing your things and following after himâonly to see him stop right next to the curb and bend down to unlock the wheels of a motorcycle.
The motorcycle can only be aptly described as beautiful, covered in a lustrous black coating with cherry red accents and silver-rimmed wheels. You watch, stunned to the spot, as he picks up the black helmet thatâd been sitting on the seat before turning around to you. You had seen this motorcycle outside of the window the entire time you were inside the bakeryânever once had you expected it to be his.
âThis is yours?â you gawk.
âMhm.â
âAre you serious? You drive a motorcycle?â
He laughs, amused. âThe bus takes, like, three hours to get anywhere. I can get you home way faster. Câmon.â
âHeeseung, I think Iâll die if I get on this thing.â
âYou wonât,â he stresses. âYou just have to hold on tight.â
âYou only have one helmet.â
âAnd itâll be yours for the ride. I can go without it.â
You beg your willpower to be strong enough, just this once. To cooperate with your tongue and just say no, or better yet, come up with an excuse. It would do you no good to let your stupidly attractive ex-boyfriend drive you home on his motorcycle.
The sweetest fruit is always forbidden, or whatever. Youâre not in the right mind to entertain the specifics.
The vehicle beneath you is alive. Rumbling, rumbling.
Wind whips your face from every which way as the bike speeds through the streets. You can feel sweat beading where the helmet presses into your hairline.
Heeseungâs back is warm.
After that day, you and Heeseung keep in touch.
It started with texting; light conversation that wasnât even continuous half of the time, since he would usually text you late at night after getting off work and you wouldnât be able to see it until early morning while youâre getting ready for your commuteâbut it was just enough to make sure that the flutter in your chest never fully settled.
Then, there was the day that Heeseung witnessed a woman very messily divorce her husband in the middle of the bar, and had wanted to tell you about it but couldnât be bothered to type it all out, so he started sending you voice messages. So on (âHeeseung? Did you mean to call me?â âDidnât you just say that you wanted to know how to make peanut chili oil noodles?â â...I meant, like, maybe you could send me the recipe you use or something.â âItâs so much easier if I just tell you. Just turn your camera on and show me your kitchen.â), so forth.
You found him becoming a fixture in your life.
A small, irksome fixture that, in spite of making you feel like the tortured soul of your teenage self, also felt good. Intoxicating. It helped fill the empty spaces in your days with something other than resentment towards being back homeâand, perhaps, you liked waking up to two missed calls and a voicemail from him, tipsy from a can of beer and three shots of tequila.
It's all in my head, you tell yourself as he lightly slurs about how pretty you are.
âY/N?â
One of your more mellow playlists is currently playing from your phone, filling up the space in your room as you polish up a slide deck for work. You pause it when you hear your motherâs voice, slightly muffled and distorted from distance, calling for you from downstairs.
âYeah?â you call back, brows in a knot as you fiddle with a rather stubborn PowerPoint asset.Â
âAre you busy, honey?â
âOnly for⊠a few more minutes, I think. Why?â
âCome downstairs after.â
It takes several more refinements and tweaks for you to finally be satisfied enough with the work in front of you to export it. Shutting the laptop lid, you push yourself up from your deskâa handful of joints cracking along the way after sitting for so longâbefore making your way downstairs.
You enter the kitchen to see your mother sitting at the dining table, one hand scrunched in her hair while the other anxiously taps the head of a ballpoint pen against a thick packet of papers. In fact, the entire table seems to be drowning in papers, precariously strewn across the surface.Â
Upon hearing your footsteps, she whips around in her seat, a breath of relief leaving her lips. âOh, good.âÂ
You blink. âWow,â you murmur as you approach the table, carefully flipping through a few of the papers at the top of the stack. Mortgage statements, bank documents, notes. âWhatâs all this?â
âIt's nothing, really. I just have an appointment with the bank tomorrow morning,â she brushes off. âListen, honey, can you do me a favour and bring this down to Jakeâs house?â
âJakeâs house?â Your gaze follows where sheâs pointing to a cardboard box on the ground next to the fridge. There are a variety of what seem to be baking tools inside.Â
âI borrowed a couple of things from Jakeâs mom that Iâve been meaning to return for a while. I would do it myself, itâs just thisââ she gestures broadly to the sea of paperwork swallowing her, ââis keeping me a bit busy at the moment.â
You purse your lips. As tempted as you are to offer to just go through all the papers for her, knowing how headstrong your mother is, you doubt she would accept the help. Instead, you simply nod, picking up the box and leaving with a quick Iâll be back soon tossed over your shoulder.
Outside, nearby porch lights had begun to flicker on. The world is steeped in the pale, blue hush that followed sunset, with the last strip of orange stubbornly clinging to the horizon. It's twilightâthere's still enough daylight to see the outlines of trees and to keep the stars just barely hidden from view. The evening breeze carries the sweet scent of burning smoke and the low, shapeless murmur of people talking, and cars line the curb, overflowing from someone's driveway. Someone in the neighbourhood must be having a barbecue.
Jake Simâs house is two blocks down from yours, across from a school bus stop and a local dog park. When you reach it, you make your way up the driveway, then the familiar cobblestone path, before arriving at the front door.
The doorbell rings; a cheerful melody that bleeds through the door. While you wait, you glance around the area, taking in the scene. Potted plants hang from mounted cast iron hooks above the porch, and the ginkgo trees that Jakeâs mother had planted herself have noticeably grown taller.
Through the distorted glass on either side of the door, you see movement. Then, the silhouette of a person. You straighten up a bit as the door opens, expecting to see the kind, serene face of Jake's motherâ
"Y/N?"
âonly to be met with Lee Heeseung's instead.
Which is strange, because Lee Heeseung is definitely supposed to be at work right about now, like he usually is.
If you had known that he would be the one answering the door, you would've been way less relaxed on your way here. He's dressed comfortablyâa cream grey hoodie, black sweats, slippersâand yet, despite that, you suddenly feel very insecure about what you're wearing yourself.
You gawk at him for a moment before you can get your tongue to form any words. "Oh," you sputter out. "Uh, hi."
Your greeting makes the initial surprise on his face give way to amusement. Hands sliding into his pockets, Heeseung's lithe form leans against the doorframe, and the corners of his lips quirk up. "Hi."
"Iâ I thought you'd be at work."
"I took the day off."
Well. That explains it, doesn't it.
You clear your throat. "My mom borrowed some stuff from Jake's mom and she asked me to return it."
Heeseung hums, peeking at the contents of the box. "Jake and his parents are visiting his aunt in Vegas, so it's just me in the house this weekend."
"Oh... if that's the case, I'll just come back another timeâ"
"No, you can bring it in. I was just making dinner. Hereâ" He moves to take the box from you, not without his hands brushing yours, before walking back into the house. You watch the back of his form disappear further inside before a scoff bursts past your lips. ("So full of shit," you mutter under your breath while you toe off your shoes in the foyer.)
Jake's house has always been a little cozier than both yours or Mae's. It's cluttered in a way that feels lived in, with all sorts of gear and equipment dotted around the place, as his family has always been the type to go on camping or fishing or skiing trips together. You're distracted by the framed childhood photos of Jake and his older brother propped up on a nearby table when suddenly, you hear a sound.
A bark. Paws skitter and scamper across tile.
Your eyes widen as a large, cream-coloured border collie appears from around the corner, barking excitedly.
"Woah!" A laugh escapes you as the dog bounds up to you and starts to slither in between your legs in happy figure eights. You don't remember Jake having a dog before you left. "Who's this?"
"Her name's Layla." Heeseung's voice rings from another room. "Jake got her a few years back. She likes new people."
Crouching down to greet her, you canât help the smile that paints your lips. Sheâs cute, all bright-eyed and tail wagging all over the place. Your fingers seem to disappear into her soft, silky coat as you rub at the scruff of her neck and scratch behind her ears.Â
âHi, Layla,â you coo. âItâs nice to meet you.âÂ
She licks your hand sweetly in response, which makes you giggle.
Eventually, your hand slips away as you push yourself to stand (much to the dogâs protest) and set off to find where Heeseung had gone. Heâd been making dinner, you remember. So, you start making your way towards the kitchenâLayla trotting along beside you, fur brushing against your calves occasionallyâbut your steps stall when you pass by the living room.
The room is rather dim, the only light sources other than the sliver of remaining day being the two Tiffany lamps, and its centrepiece, a malt-coloured sofa, is currently pulled out into a bed. An unmade bed, evidently; rumpled sheets, askew pillows, and a duvet bunched up at the foot of the mattress. Itâs his, you assume.
But, what catches your attention instead is the Macbook sitting a bit away from the edge, open to what looks like a music software.
A groan comes from behind you. âFuck. Ignore that, please.â
Turning your head, you watch as Heeseung saunters in, holding a steaming bowl and a fork spearing a piece of bolognese-covered rigatoni pasta. He stops next to you and grimaces at the state of the area. âI was taking a nap earlier and I wasnât exactly expecting company.â
You donât respond immediately, gaze still on the open laptop. A memory, frayed and timeworn, passes through your mind.
On a particularly ordinary late August day, youâre freshly seventeen. Warm thighs pillow your head and the air at the skate park smells like eucalyptus and cigarette butts and salt blown in from the coast.
âI just wanna hear a little bit. Just a little,â you plea. âPlease?â
Your best puppy-dog eyes make him laugh before he gives in, removing the headphones from around his neck to slot them over your ears.
First comes a lazy rhythm, then a jazz guitarâthen, his voice.
You look up at him to find that heâs already looking down at you, and you slide the headphones off just in time to hear him say that this one is about you.
âYou still make music?â you ask quietly.
The question catches Heeseung off guard. âOh.â Walking over, he picks up the laptop and moves it to the side table (closing it in the process) before taking a seat on the edge of the mattress. Thereâs a certain dejection that scratches the surface of his tone. âI mean, yeah. When I have time.â
He pats the space next to him. âCâmon, sit.â
You find yourself doing just so, making sure to leave a gap between you and him. Two beats go by before you muse, âI thought you wanted to do music full-time.â
âYeah.â
âSo you ended up pouring drinks for people because...?â
âBecause the stereotype about art majors is true?â he chuckles dryly. âItâs fine, though. I like bartending. Itâs fun. I make good tips.â
His fork scrapes against the bottom of the now-empty bowl. âI also do it so I can pay Jakeâs parents a rent. Itâs less than Iâd like to, but they wonât let me give them more than what it is right now.â
You wait for him to continue. He doesnât.
You open your mouth to say something, but nothing comes out. Youâre stuck lingering on his side profile.
Something throbs in your chest.
For all the ways in which heâd changed, there are as many parts of Heeseung that are so achingly familiar. His eyes, his mannerisms, the cadence of his speechâyou can trace the boy youâd once known in the person heâd grown into. In that same vein, he still carries the same guardedness that had driven you to the brink.
Heâs still hiding from you, after all this time.
You canât fault him for it nowâthe two of you are broken upâbut you canât help but think about how Jakeâs parents probably know what Heeseung had gone through. Jake probably knows, too.
Were you the only one who didnât?
You want to ask. Oh, how badly you want to ask. How did you end up here? How did we end up here? The questions claw at the back of your throat, begging for answers.
But at some point, without realizing, Layla had curled up at your feet, and you had leaned back on your hands far enough that your pinky now rested against his, and you had become hyperaware of how settled in you are to his spaceâ
âand suddenly, it feels like youâve severely overstayed your welcome.
You stand up. The abrupt movement makes Layla whimper, nosing at your leg in an attempt to get you to sit down again. Heeseung blinks in confusion. âWhat are you doing?â
âI should get going,â you say jerkily. âI told my mom I'd only be gone for a bit.â
A frown mars his face. âIt's dark. I can walk you back.â
âI'll be fine, itâs just two blocks.â
âY/NâŠâ
âI said I'll be fine, Heeseung.â
Before he can protest any further, youâre already spinning on your heel and rushing to leave. Youâre running again, as it always feels most familiar to doâyouâd rather leave the unspoken for another day, or, better yet, leave it untouched foreverâand this time, you can hear him trailing after you. Quiet, almost careful footsteps that contrast your own hasty ones.
Night greets you when you wrench open the front door. Her tranquil air and inky sky and canopies of stars indulge your avoidance. Youâre relieved. Elated, even; stepping past the threshold into her open armsâonly to be gently tugged back over.
You donât register the fingers delicately clasped around your wrist before your cheek collides with soft fabric. A heartbeat thumps beneath your ear.
Lee Heeseung is hugging you.
Itâs far from a tight hug; if anything, his arms seem to loosen more and more around your waist with each second that you don't react and doubt creeps into his veins. You have every chance to pull away.
You donât. You canât.
âWhat are youâŠâ You hate how hoarse your voice is.
âI don't know,â Heeseung whispers. Dipping his head, his forehead comes to lightly rest on your shoulder, the warm ripples of his breath fanning against your collarbone. â...I think I missed you.â
You immediately scoff into his chest. Of course. How fucking eloquent. âYou think? Are you serious?â
Heeseung laughs. It twinkles in a way that makes your heart clench. âMm, yeah. I think.â
âFuck you.â
âRight back at you, star girl.â
A pause.
âYou're doing this on purpose,â you say weakly.
âLike I said,â he mumbles, a hand lifting to gently toy with the ends of your hair, twirling some of between his fingers. âI think I missed you.â
The statement is raw and painfully honest. It seeps into you like water to a wilted flower and makes your traitorous heart flutter alive with hope. You screw your eyes shutâso tightly the pressure makes colours explode behind your eyelidsâand pray to a higher being that he doesn't notice the way your breaths come out all shuddery.
A car passes by on the street, tires crunching against the asphalt road. Coming, then going. Moths flutter around the overhead porch light as they watch over the two of you.
You fight against every urge that's telling you to let your own arms wrap around him as well.
When his head finally lifts, Heeseung takes a single step backward, hands sliding down to rest on the small of your back. You try to find something interesting about the old, tattered wood of the porch before your resolve wavers under the weight of his gaze and you raise your head.
Subconsciously, your eyes lands on his lips, tracing their shape, then sliding up. His irises shine honey brown under the yellowed light, swirling with a sad sort of fondness. "It's nice having you back."
Longing crashes over you in brutal, vicious wavesâpulling you underâ
âuntil you can't breathe. âKiss me.â
Heeseung's eyes widen. âWhat?â
âKiss me,â you beg hoarsely. âBefore I regret it.â
For the past four years, youâve been trying to forget Lee Heeseung.
Forget how pretty his smile is and how gentle his hands are and how he made you feel a high no one else seemed capable of giving you. Forget how, at one point, the only reason you wouldâve ever stayed in California was because he had made it feel like the good would've outweighed the bad. That it would've been worth it.
Yet, all that progress feels for naughtâbecause muscle memory is anything but fickle, and your lips mold to Lee Heeseung's like not a single day has passed since he last held you in his arms.
The world seems to fall away around you.
Heeseung doesnât falter as your arms sling around his neck to pull him in, his own arms banded around your waist pinning you flush against him all the same. The kiss deepens, and when one of his hands slides down the length of your back to squeeze your hip, you exhale a shaky breath that you didn't even know you were holding in.
Closer. You want him closer.
âCloser?â he whispers, teasing.
Fuck. Did I say that out loud?
You slap him on the shoulder. Heeseung only laughs.
Without letting go, he turns the two of you around and starts to guide you back into the house, kicking the door shut behind him. You stumble over your own feet, clinging to him on instinct as to steady yourselfâsomething that makes him smile against your lips.
He walks you backwards until he can push you up against a wall. The impact doesnât hurt, but itâs firm enough to rattle the photo frame next to your head and make you choke out a shocked gasp. The wall is cold behind you. Seeping through your clothes and biting at your spine before sprawling across the expanse of your backâyet you still feel like youâre burning alive.
Thud. Your head falls back against the wall when his mouth finally leaves yours just to reattach to your neck, lips parting as he nips and sucks at your pulse. Your hips buck reflexively, but his handsâhis stupid fucking handsâkeep them in place.
Heeseung clicks his tongue. âImpatient.â
âI'll fucking kill you,â you spit, only for a reedy moan to tear from your throat a second later. âHâHeeseungâŠâ
âMm?â he hums, the sound vibrating against you.
âWant... youâŠâ
âI canât hear you.â
âHeeseung, I swear to godââ
He shushes you between laughs, lips trailing up to find yours again. â'm just messing with you, baby. You have me.â
And when you feel his hands slide to the backs of your thighs, subtly urging you up, the last shreds of your resolve crumble into ash. A white flag flies high.
Fumbling with your phone, you manage to send your mother a sloppy, typo-riddled message about 'staying at Maeâs' before carelessly tossing it aside.
Legs wrapping around his waist as he kisses you dizzy.
You wake up to the mockingbirdsâ song and the whirring of the garbage truck down the street.
For a moment, you donât know where you are. Your eyelids weigh a thousand pounds, and you can't seem to bring yourself to care about prying them open. All you know is that youâre cocooned in warmth. Deep, impossible warmth that you want to sink into forever and never come out of.
But, slowly, the fog lifts. Youâre naked, you realize; thereâs an arm around your middle and soft puffs of air brushing the nape of your neck. The cool sheets skim your bare skin, rustling softly as you shift around until youâre met with Heeseungâs face.
On the same pillow, inches away from yours. Washed in early sunlight and softened with sleep. Your eyes flit over his every feature.
As memories from last night come trickling back in, you think you're in a dream. A sickeningly lucid one, but a dream nonetheless. That none of thisâcoming back home, seeing Heeseung againâwas real, and if you pinched yourself right now, you'd wake up in your shoebox of an apartment in Boston, having passed out at your laptop in the middle of tweaking your resume for the billionth time.
At that moment, Heeseung stirs. His brows scrunch, as they always did, before his eyes blink open to look at you.
Lee Heeseung had always been easygoing by nature. Relaxed. Nonchalant. Sometimes just cocky enough to get under your skin. So, when you meet his eyes and find something terrifyingly vulnerable pooling in them, you feel like your heart is free-falling through the sky.
He reaches a hand out, gently tucking a loose lock of hair back behind your ear, lingering thereâbefore he pulls you close in a hug.
Fuck.
âSleep okay?â he mumbles into your hair. âKnow this mattress isn't the most comfy.â
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
Your arms wrap around him just as tight, burying your face into his neck.
â's okay,â you reply weakly.
Clean cotton.
He smells of clean cotton. A smell youâve learned, over and over again.
Tenderly cradling the back of your knee in his palm, he gently draws you toward him before settling between your spread thighs, hips slotting into yours. His body drapes over you like a blanket. You like the weight of him.
You feel a shaky breath exhaled next to your ear, followed by a kiss pressed to the skin beneath it. âYouâre okay, star girl?â
âYes,â you snap, immediately regretting it.
You canât help it. You want him to be bitter; to give as good as he gets so youâd have something to push against. But he doesnât. He's so gentle it's unbearable; checking in with you, handling you like youâre made of glass. Every time you bite at him, he just meets it with patience. Teasing, at most.
It makes you feel like the shittiest person in the world.
The corners of your eyes water, ever so slightly. âJust... just fuck me. Please.â
Hot, white sparks burst behind your eyes when he finally pushes in. Your mouth falls open, a broken moan akin to a sob tumbling past your lips. âFuckâ fuck, oh my godâŠâ
He shushes you softly, his own voice frayed with pleasure. âI know, baby. You feel so good. Soâfuckâgood around meâŠâ
Heâs still for a moment, letting you adjust, before starting to move. Slow at firstâthen just fast enough. At some point, his hand finds yours, fingers interlacing beside your head. All you can do is arch your hips up and cling to him as tightly as possible as you're swallowed whole by sensation.
God, you had missed him.
âTake me back.â
Itâs like a bucket of ice water dumped over your head.
You think you mishear him. He had said something else, perhapsâitâs not like youâre the most coherent right nowâor it had just been a sound of the night outside.
But, it replays in your mind. Once. Twice. A third and fourth time, for good measure.
His movements had slowed, now just barely rocking into you. You turn to look at him, but his face is buried deep in the crook of your neck, hiding there. Your fingers tremble as they thread through his hair, lightly pulling at the roots. A silent plea for him to look at you. He doesnât budge.
âTake me back.â His voice catches, muffled against your skin. âI wasâ I was so stupid.â
Youâre at a complete loss. âYouâre not thinking straight,â you blurt.
A laugh escapes him, quiet and broken around the edges.
âYeah?â he whispers. â'm not?â
Your throat feels so, so dry.
âYouâre not,â you whisper back.
Heeseungâs arm falls from around your waist as you swing your legs over the edge of the bed. Propping himself up by the elbow, he watches you pick your clothes up from off the floor and slip them on, half-lidded gaze following the lines of your movements.
When you check your phone (which youâd also picked up from the floor), thereâs a missed call and a text that says Use protection xx from Mae.
Pause. You frantically scramble to parse through the haze of last nightâuntil you reach the memory of you tearing open a condom packet.
Oh, thank god. Thatâs a relief.
âWhereâs the bathroom again?â you ask over your shoulder.
Heeseung nods toward the hallway. âSecond door on the left.â
Murmuring a small thanks, you drag yourself to the bathroom, flicking the light switch onâonly to stop short when you catch sight of yourself in the mirror.
Your eyes zero in on the fat bruise at the base of your neck.
You groan.
âLee Heeseung!â you yell, dragging a hand down your face.
A moment later, Heeseung appears in the doorway, now at least with a pair of pants on, though heâs still shirtless. You make a pointed effort to not look for too long, opting instead to shoot him your most annoyed glare.
His gaze flicks to your reflection in the mirror, then to the mark on your neck. He bites back a smile. âNice hickey.â
You shove at his chest. âYou gave it to me, dipshit! My parents are gonna see this shit when I go home!â
âJust donât go home,â he muses, catching your wrist lightly. âStay here. Jake wonât be back until tomorrow morning.â
Rolling your eyes, you briefly scan the bathroom counter. There isnât much on it, save for a soap bar, some shaving products, and a few bottles of womenâs anti-aging skincare. âDo you have any makeup?â
Heeseung steps behind you, arms snaking around your waist, squeezing your middle. âYou wanna cover it up? It's pretty, though.â
Your cheeks flush. âIt's humiliating,â you mumble, pushing his arms off.
An airy hum. âMrs. Sim probably has some. You can probably use some of hers, Iâm sure she wouldn't mind.â He gently pats your hip before ducking to leave. âCome to the kitchen after.â
"Why?"
"Breakfast."
"I... appreciate it, but I'll pass. I really should get goâ"
He's gone before you finish speaking.
"Bastard," you curse under your breath, starting to rifle through the drawers.
Theyâre mostly stocked with bathroom supplies: spare toothbrushes, towels, floss picks. A misplaced dog toy, maybe.
But, youâre pulling things open a little too quickly, and one drawer slides farther than expected, revealing a discreet side compartment with an orange prescription bottle sitting inside. Certainly not something that would help you cover a hickey, so you move to push it closedâwhen you catch a glimpse of something in the corner of your eye.
âE, HEESEUNG
You squint.
Before you can decide whether itâs a good idea or not, you carefully pick it up, turning it over in your hand to read the label.
LEE, HEESEUNG
SERTRALINE 150 MG Tablet
Used to treat moderate-level major depressive disorder
Mfr: AAA
Prescriber: Dr. Wang, Martin
Take one tablet by mouth once daily
Qty: 30
Refills remaining: 1
Oh.
Hm.
A voice pops in your head.
Since when?
Another.
Why?
Another.
Back then... too?
Another. Another. Another. Some new, some resurfacing after lying dormant for a few years. The rational, slightly self-conscious part of your mind argues that thereâs no point in trying to answer them because you donât have the right to and, even if you did, what does it matter?
But if this wasnât recentâif it had been going on for a while, maybe even back when the two of you were togetherâwouldnât you have wanted to know?
Whatever.
Youâve really been here for too long.
Heeseung pokes his head out from the kitchen as you briskly walk by, a can of instant coffee in his hand. âYouâre really not staying for breakfast?â
Glancing back at him, you falter. He looks a little confused, as if he hadnât expected you to actually be in such a rush to leave.
For a second, you consider it; sitting at the kitchen table, nursing a cup of coffee while he makes breakfast. You would jokingly complain about how you're starving and he needs to hurry upâto which he would crack a stupid sex joke and you would tell him to go to Hell.
The scene is so tempting it makes you sick. Instead, you force a smile.
âIâm good. Thanks,â you say, slipping on your shoes.
He frowns as you pull the door shut behind you.
Itâs tragically ironic that all youâve been able to think about is Lee Heeseung when you havenât heard from him since.
Five days have gone by in unsettling silence. At first, you thought he mightâve gotten caught up with shifts at the bar and what not, too busy to check his phoneâonly to see him in the background of Jakeâs Instagram story, watching his friend shotgun a Modelo.
Youâve been trying, sincerely, to not overthink things (like how heâd reacted to the last message you sent himâan affirmation that youâd gotten home safely that morningâwith a heart, only to change it to thumbs up a few seconds later) but between him asking you to take him back, him ignoring you after asking you to take him back, and the fucking agonizing realization that you would in fact, given the chance, take him backâHeeseung has occupied an unreasonably large space in your brain. A crowded space where questions bleed into assumptions, and assumptions into long-repressed memories that leave you awake at night.
Mae told you to reach out. You laughed in her face, so you donât tell her where youâre going today.
Walking down the same winding staircase Yerim led you down weeks ago, you swallow your pride before pulling the door open.
The Magnolia is busier this time around. It seems like every seat is occupied, and the air buzzes with conversation, punctuated by bursts of laughter and clinking glass. Itâs Friday evening, after allâand, judging by the tipsy group of people loudly serenading a noticeably embarrassed woman, someoneâs twenty-sixth birthday.
If you remember correctly, Heeseung should be working tonight.
You approach the crowded bar and slide into a seat that's just been emptied. Wringing your wrists, your eyes dart around the area, the blur of movement, the faces of others.
You spot him.
Reaching for bottles without even looking, cracking an easy smile at something a customer says (whoâs clearly interested in him, you can see it in her eyes). Heâs magnetic when heâs in his element, and you canât help but stare, even while you try to tamp down the lump in your throat from seeing him just fine while you feel like youâre going insane.
When he turns, he sees you.
You know he does.
For a second, he doesn't move. Then, he looks away.
Instead of coming over, even just to serve you as a customer, he heads towards another bartenderâa middle-aged man with tattoo sleevesâwhile untying the apron around his waist. They exchange some words that you can't hear before Heeseung disappears into the back, tongue in his cheek.
You wait for him to come back out. Your stomach is in knots.
A minute goes by, then two.
Then, he finally comes back out, but he doesnât come towards you. In fact, he doesnât stop at allâhe walks straight past the bar, past the tables, and straight out of the exit.
You emerge out onto the street, the murder of crows overhead on a telephone line cawing as you do. Your knees burn from the stairs, and soft pants blow past your lips with every rapid pump of your lungs. Closing your eyes briefly, you compose yourself as best as you can before swivelling around.
Heeseung is sitting on a wooden crate propped up against a parking metre. A lit cigarette dangles from his fingers while he scrolls through his phone.
Your hands clench into fists, nails biting into the flesh of your palms.
You want to scream. Curse him out for everyone to hearâbecause what the fuck happened? Why did he just run out? Why is he avoiding you? What did you do wrong?
Why do you feel like crying?
Instead, you force your fingers to unfurl. âI thought about it,â you say.
Heeseung doesnât look up.
âI think we should try again.â
He takes a drag from the cigarette, blows the smoke out, then taps the ash onto the ground. âNah, we shouldnât.â
You blink. What?
âExcuse me?â you sputter, voice ringing hollow.
âWe shouldnât get back together.â
âYou literally said a week agoââÂ
âI wasnât thinking straight,â he drawls. âRemember?â
You just stare at him, stunned. You try to make sense of what his words, but your mind is muddled with scratchy white noise. Then: âHeeseung, what the fuck is wrong with you?â
Letting the hand holding his phone drop limply, Heeseung finally meets your gaze with his own bored one. âWhat?â
âWhyââ Hurt bleeds into the cracks of your anger. âWhy are you acting like this?â
âBecause we dated when we were seventeen,â he responds dryly. âWe were stupid and young, and weâve grown since then. Weâve always been different, Y/N, and we probably still are. Maybe too much. Itâd never work outââ
âAre you over me?â
He falls silent.
Your laughter drips with mockery. âClearly neither of us have grown that much.â
â...Whatever.â He leans back against the parking metre, shaking his head. âJust drop it. I donât think it would work.â
âNo, I wonât drop it,â you grit out. âYou donât get to tell me to drop it.â
Taking one last drag, Heeseung lets the cigarette fall to the ground, grinding it out underneath the sole of his shoe. He shoots you a brief glance. Youâre noticeably upset. He runs his tongue over his teeth in thought before breaking the silence.Â
âYou left my meds on the bathroom counter,â he deadpans.
Hearing that makes you deflate. You donât remember doing that. Â
âOâ Oh,â you stutter, embarrassed. âSorry, I justâ I saw it while I was flipping through the drawers andââ You cut yourself off, taking a deep breath. âYouâre depressed. So what? Big deal.â
A harsh sigh. âY/N, I donât need you to pity me. Stop pretending you didnât leave the second you found I have fucking problems.â
âWhat? I didnât leave that day because of anything that I found out.â
âOkay.â
âI didnât!â
âThen why were you in such a rush to leave?â
âI donât know, maybe because I wasnât proud of the fact that I had sex with my ex-boyfriend?â you retort incredulously.Â
âOkay, and what about when we broke up? Wasnât that because you were tired of putting up with my bullshit?â
Heâs angry now, too; voice louder and thunder flashing behind his eyes. The apathy heâd been wearing this whole time had given way to an irritation that mirrors your own. Even so, thereâs a bitter edge to it allâthe words strained with a contempt directed more to himself than towards you.
You tear your gaze away from him. âYou know what? Fine. Maybe I left. But youâ you let me.â
âWhat?â
âYou let me walk away.â
âWhat are you talking about? You broke up with me.â
âAnd you just let me.â
âY/N, you arenât making any sense. You wanted to leaveââ
âI wanted you to care!âÂ
The words tear from your throat, breaking near the end. Cutting him off and settling between the two of you heavily. You donât notice how the fight seems to drain out of him at your outburst, because your heart feels like itâs about to crack open into a million pathetic pieces. âIâ I was tired of you shutting me out. Do you know much I wanted to help you but I couldnât because you wouldnât talk to me about anything? If you had just told me how you were struggling I couldâveâ done something. Anything.â
âY/Nââ
âAnd⊠and Iâll admit that I was stupid, and that I broke up with you on a whim but oh my fucking godâ I thought you would at least tell me not to go!â You card a shaky hand through your hair, blinking back tears. âBut you justâ you just let me leave. You didnât say anything, Heeseung. Not âwait a minuteâ or âletâs work this outâ. You didnât fight for meâ for us at all. So of course I left. What else was I supposed to do?â
Silence hangs in the air, suffocating the both of you. He lets out a chipped, disbelieving laugh. âYou⊠wanted me to stop you.â
âOf course I wanted you to stop me!â
The first teardrop traitorously slips down your cheek. You furiously wipe at it with your fingertips before any more can follow. You know heâs looking at you, and you refuse to let him see how small you feel under his gaze.
So, you spin on your heel.
âFuck you,â you spit before storming off.
Heeseung has been staring at the ceiling for a really, really long time.
He canât be sure how long, but itâs long enough that his spine has essentially fused to the couch, his longest playlist has looped three times through, and heâs become so disconnected from his surroundings that he doesnât notice Jake coming back from his date with Minjeong until heâs looking down at him with a cocked brow, hair slightly mussed and a jacket tossed over his shoulder.
The fog in Heeseungâs eyes clears as sensation returns; the room settling back into focus, the weight of his hands folded over his abdomen.
âOh. Youâre back.â He gently removes the pair of silver headphones slotted over his ears. âHow was your date?â
Dropping into a nearby armchair, Jake slouches back against it, an easy smile on his lips. âIt was good. We went to some fancy Italian place Minjeong saw on Reels.â
âYouâre a little red. You drank?â
Jake shrugs. âJust one glass. Minjeong thoughâŠâ He pinches his nose bridge, exasperated. His girlfriend has never been particularly good at holding her liquorâalways winding up loud and clingy and extremely giggly after having a barely substantial amount to drink. âWhen I dropped her off at her place, I offered to take care of her, but Rina shoved me out the door. Iâll have to call her in a bit. Make sure she hasnât died or something.â
Heeseung hums absentmindedly. It takes him at least thirty seconds to realize that Jake is giving him a very particular look.
A sigh leaves his lips, gaze rolling back up to the ceiling. âWhat?â
âAre we gonna sit here until you talk or are you gonna make me do the corny shit where I have to ask you whatâs wrong?â
That pulls a laugh out of Heeseung. âY/N knows that Iâm depressed,â he says, after a while.
Jake blinks. âYou told her?â
âI didnât⊠tell her.â
Heeseung flip-flops on whether or not talking to Jake about this is a smart idea before deciding that thereâs, quite literally, no point inholding back. So, he recounts everythingâyou coming over, the two of you sleeping with each other (âYou screwed a girl in my parentsâ house? Do you not have a lick of shame?â âStop fixating on unimportant side details.â), you finding his medication, the fight from a few days agoâin the nonchalant, offhandish way guys do when theyâre talking about their feelings with each other.
For a long moment, Jake just stares at him. âWow.â
âWhat?â
âYou gotta be the dumbest fucking person I know.â
âThanks. Good talk, Jake.â
âNo, seriously.â Jake leans forward, elbows on his knees, hands clasped in front of him. âMost people would be geeked out of their minds if they wanted their ex back and their ex not only wants them back too, but goes out of her way like she did.â
Heeseung doesnât meet his gaze. Flicking a bit of dust off the couch cushion, he murmurs, âI donât know what sheâs doing.â
âAre you fucking with me? She literally said she wants you back.â
âPeople say things.â
âJesus Christ,â Jake groans. âYou always act like the only reason anyone would want you is because they feel sorry for you.â
âI donât know, man. Didnât you parentsââ Heeseung bites his tongue, not wanting to end up arguing with his best friend either. âI just donât know.â
âMy parents took you in because theyâve always loved you as their own son.â Jakes says it casually, matter-of-factlyâas if itâs stupid for anyone to think otherwise. âYou ever think maybe she loves you too?â
Heeseungâs eyes screw shut as the words hit his ears. âEven if we got back together,â he starts, voice thready. âWhat then? Iâm still all kinds of fucked up.â
âYouâre not fucked up, dude.â
âI still have a shitty temper. I still shut down over the smallest things and push everyone away. Itâll just happen again and sheâll end up hurtââ
âSo work on it,â Jake says firmly. âYou stop assuming she wouldnât do for you what you would for her and you start trusting her.â
âI canât give her what she deserves, Jake.â
Pushing himself to a stand, Jake looks down at Heeseung, sprawled out on the couch in quiet defeat. Something sympathetic crosses his face at the sight of his best friend, who always kept his emotions neatly tucked away, visibly anxious. He must really be tearing himself apart over this.
âIf Iâve learnt anything from having a girlfriend, itâs that they donât want you to decide for them what they can or canât handle. Evenââ Jake points a finger at Heeseung when he opens his mouth, cutting him off preemptively. ââif we think weâre doing the right thing.â
His arms fold over his chest. âDonât you love her?â
Heeseungâs gaze drifts to the far wall. âYeah,â he says, barely audibly. âI do.â
A nod. âThen hold onto her this time.â
Itâs not to say that the beaches on the East Coast donât have sand and water too, but rather that here, the sun sinks toward the horizon until the ocean swallows it whole. Surfers bob beyond the breaks and skateboards clatter on the bike path behind you. People heading home from late afternoon grocery store runs walk along the seam where asphalt breaks into sand. The air is sunscreen-smudged and nicotine-stained.
It still leaves a bitter taste in your mouth; you spent years wanting to leave it all behind, insisting that you didnât miss it, and yet sitting here now, watching the sky fade from golden orange to lavender, you canât help but suppose that, even after everything, this was the closest thing youâd ever know to home.
Perhaps youâve gotten more sentimental with age. Perhaps your heart has grown softer with distance. Perhaps nostalgia preys on everyone, no matter strong or weak.
Or, perhaps, youâre really fucking sad, and some small, childish part of you wants the waves to cradle you until you felt okay again.
Youâve been sitting here for a while. Long enough for the late afternoon to slip into evening, for the sand beneath your feet to cool. The breeze coming off the water has sharpened, and youâve drawn your knees up to your chest in response.
The ocean stretches on endlessly in front of you. The waves roll in, then retreat. Roll in, retreat. Roll in, retreat.Â
After your confrontation with Heeseung, youâd gone home and cried.
Everything felt like it was unravelingâa spool of thread skittering across tile that your clumsy fingers couldnât stopâbecause the prospect of having Lee Heeseung back in your life mightâve been the first time youâd hoped for something this deeply since leaving for Boston. Funnily enough, in your fit of anger and hurt and sheer melodrama, you had had the urge to crack open your laptop and start looking for job openings in Boston, as if youâd learned nothing at all.
You wonder if youâll ever stop running.
You scrub a hand over your face.
âHm.â
A voice drifts over the sound of the surf.
âSo you are here.â
You still.Â
When you dare to glance over your shoulder, you see Heeseung walking towards you, hands tucked in the pockets of his jeans. A motorcycleâhis, you recognizeâis parked farther back on the bike path.
âHow did you find me?â you ask curtly.
âI stopped by your house first. Your mom said you went to the beach,â he answers. âBit of a long walk, you know.â
âI like walking.â
His voice is soft. âI know.â A pause. âCan I sit?â
When you donât respond, you hear the crunch of sand. A soft exhale comes from him as he lowers himself to the ground, a small bit away from you. Heeseung stares ahead, watching the waves crash against the shore and the gulls peck at the sea moss.Â
Silence sits heavy between the two of you, brewing.
âMy dad kicked me out.â
Your head whips to face him, so fast you nearly pull your neck. You think you hear him wrong. âWhat?â
Heeseung keeps his gaze fixed on the horizon. âYou asked me why I live with Jakeâs family now. Itâs because my dad kicked me out of the house.â
âHeâd been threatening it for years,â he murmurs, idly picking up a handful of sand. Letting it spill through the gaps of his fingers. âMy mom was a doctor, so he wanted⊠or, I guess, needed me to be one too. So, when I told him I wasnât gonna do it, he gave me a ton of shit for it. It got really bad around when we were applying to college.â
He gently clears his throat. âThatâs whyâ thatâs why I was like that, back then.â
Oh.Â
You were right about it having something to do with his fatherâbut you never wouldâve fathomed it was that bad.Â
âI think it was during third year of college that he realized I really wasnât gonna switch my degree, so he followed through. Kicked me out and stopped helping me pay for college. Said if I wanted to waste my life making music, I could do it somewhere else.â His lips quirk up into a rueful half-smile. âIf that answers your question.â
Heeseung nearly laughs when he finally glances over at you. You look alarmed, all wide-eyed. Heâd forgotten how endearing it was. He can also tell youâre biting something back, eyes narrowing slightly before understanding dawns on him.Â
âOh.â His gaze drops back to the water. âIâm on meds because after he kicked me out, I really, really wanted to die.â
The words roll off his tongue with a horrifying simplicity, as if he was talking about something as dull and inconsequential as yesterdayâs weather. Your pulse pounds loudly in your ears and a horrible, gutwrenching ache curls in the centre of your ribs.
Beside you, Heeseung merely runs a hand through his hair. âI guess it was kind of obvious because Jake kept on nagging me to get help.â His nose wrinkles at the memory. âIt was weird as fuck to be coddled by him, but Iâm grateful.â
âAreââ Your breath catches. âDo you stillâŠâ
âIâm better now,â he says immediately. âNot, like, great or anything⊠but better. I really owe it to him. And his parentsâtheyâre letting me live with them until I have enough saved up to⊠I dunno⊠move in with Jake and another guy we met in college. They have a place downtown with a spare bedroom. Or maybe get my own place?â
You nod solemnly. â...Heeseung, Iâm sorryââ
âNo, donât be. It was never your fault.â He stops you before you can say anything else. âI shouldâveâ I shouldâve trusted you and told you this stuff earlier. Iâve been a dick. You had every right to be upset, both back then and the other day. Iâm sorry.â
God, your nose burns. Your nose burns and your throat feels like itâs closing up and even while you still resent how he had pushed you away, you feel so, so bad for him.Â
âI couldâve been there for you,â you say thickly.
âI know, star girl.â
âI thought you let me leave because you didnât want me anymore.â
Something in Heeseungâs expression cracks. âNo,â he whispers. âNever.â
He gently brushes the hair out of your face, smoothing his hand over your head. âI thought I was doing the right thing. I was upset with myself about being a shit boyfriend and I thought you wouldnât⊠want to deal with me. I didnât hold on because I couldnât imagine that you wouldâve wanted me to. I thought youâd be happier if you left.â
You bark out a laugh. âGod, youâre so stupid.â
âSo Iâve been told.â A sad smile. âForgive me.â
You only sniffle. Your gaze is stubbornly trained on the sand between your knees while you will the sting in your eyes to fade. When you finally look up again, chin perched on your forearm, heâs still looking at you.Â
âStop looking at me like that,â you mumble.
âLike what?â
âLike that!â
âThatâs just my face.â
You scoff and reach over to push at his cheek. Heeseung easily catches your wrist, turning your hand over and pressing a small kiss to the centre of your palm. Your heart jolts, breath stuttering.
âTell me why you came back,â he mumbles softly.
âWhat?â
His grip loosens, shifting from your wrist to threading through your hand, which you donât pull away from. âYou never told me why you came back.â
âI did. I told you that being there wasnât for me.â
âYou could poll every person youâve ever met and they could all tell you how much you fucking hated Orange County.â
âYou think youâre so funny.â
âMhm.â
â...Itâs really lame.â
âSo what?â
Youâre quiet for a while. âI donât know, it justâ nothing worked out, once I got there. I kept waiting for it to get better, but it never did. I was just miserable all the time.â Humiliation wraps around you and tints your cheeks red. You let out a weary sigh. âI just⊠I spent years thinking that thisââ you gesture vaguely at the coastline. ââwas the problem.â
âI think I had a lot of false hope,â you murmur. âThat, you know, nobody here understood me or cared about what I cared about, and if I could just get out of here, everything would finally click. I would feel like I belonged.â
Heeseung nods thoughtfully. âBelonging is a useless, made-up metric,â he says eventually.
âHuh?â
âThink about it. No one âbelongsâ anywhere.â
Youâre unconvinced. âThat just feels objectively wrong.âÂ
 âDoes it?â A lazy smile tugs at the corners of his lips. âPeople just find places they want to stay.â
âThatâs your philosophy?â
âMm. Iâm still workshopping it.â
A laugh escapes you, despite yourself. âI think,â you say after a moment, pursing your lips. â...I think I just have to unlearn my pride.â
âMm.â
âWhatâs that supposed to mean?â
âIt means âyeah, maybe a bit.ââ
You try to shove at his shoulder, a curse on the tip of your tongue, only to be caught by the wrist again. Heeseung lies back against the sand, tugging you down with himâto which you let out a very startled yelpâuntil you land square on top of him. Your hands shoot out, planting on either side of his head to keep yourself stable, but all it does it bring your face closer to his.
Sand catches on the ends of your hair, and his hands naturally find your hips. You can feel the laugh rumbling through his chest in your own.Â
âAsshole,â you mutter weakly.
Smile softening, Heeseungâs gaze drifts down to your lips before back up to your eyes. âI love you.â
The air drains from your lungs in one big whoosh. Yours arms tremble as you hold yourself above him, threatening to buckle. âYouâ HeeseungâŠâ
âI do,â he says, certain. âIf you can just ignore everything I said the other day about not wanting to try again, I swear, I swear I wonât let you go this time.â
And oh, how fear swirls in your gut at his words, because it fills you with hope. Painful, treacherous hope that asks you to imagine a future. To dream of something again and reach for it, even after being beaten down, time after time. To risk being disappointed again. You wish you could know how this ends before you take the leapâbut thatâs never been the bargain that hope offers.
You dare to hope.Â
Your lips press to his. Something tingly and warm sprawls throughout your body that you can feel in the shells of your ears and the tips of your fingers and the nooks of your knees. Heeseung exhales softly into the kiss, lips curving into a smile against yours. You feel his hand glide up your back and slip into your hair. The ocean sighs behind you, pleased.
When you part, he looks up at you through half-lidded eyes. âIs that a yes?â
You snort. âAs if. Iâm not that easy.â
âYou just kissed me,â he says, grin splintering his face.
âDoesnât mean anything.â
âMhm. Whatever you say, star girl.â
Itâs a rare summer day where rain had just passed through. Nothing more than a drizzle in the early afternoon, but enough to leave dewdrops clinging to the leaves and fill the air with the scent of wet earth and petrichor.Â
The flowy hem of your canary yellow dress swishes against your calves as you make your way down the street of your neighbourhood. You step into one of the puddles dotting the road, watching the water ripple around your sandal.
You glance back over your shoulder. Heeseung is trailing a distance behind you, a small bouquet of white carnations dangling from one hand. Heâd picked it up from the floristâs before your date.
âHurry up,â you call out with feigned annoyance, hands finding purchase on your hips.Â
He stops walking, staring at you across the rain-darkened road. âYouâre walking too fast.â
âYouâre slow.â
âIâm carrying flowers.â
âAs if they weigh anything!â
Heeseungâs head tips back in laughter. The sound follows you down the length of the street.Â
You smile, letting it settle somewhere deep inside your chest.
synopsis: lee heeseung has been your self-proclaimed nemesis since you were in grade school. from academic rivalries to petty fights, he is in every way the person you canât stand the most in this world. but when the boy youâve been pining after for months pops out with a girlfriend, youâre forced to turn to your nemesis for help. a fake relationship. no real feelings. and if things go well, youâll have the love of your life and heâll have a finished portfolio. simple, right? except nothing is ever simple when it comes to lee heeseung.
wc: 20k
warnings: photography student!lee heeseung x fem!reader, fake dating trope, rivals to lovers, he fell first and harder, slow burn (reader takes a second to realize sheâs in love with hee, but she gets there), kind of love triangle but not really, sunghoon is in here because who would i be without my heehoon agenda, also ft jake and yunjin and chaewon (le sserafim), fluff, alcohol consumption, college!au, cussing, romcom vibes (obviously. this is me writing this) // smut, p in v, oral f!receiving, fingering, soft sex, praise kink, pet names (baby, princess), body worship (? i think), begging, spitting, multiple orgasms, cream pie, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it)
rose thinks⊠for those who donât know, fake dating is my absolute all time favorite trope, so of course i had to write it with my favorite guy. i also watched off campus so yk⊠itâs been a while since iâve uploaded, so i hope this lives up to any expectations you might have had for it. a special thanks to my lovely @sjynlvr , because you unknowingly gave me the motivation i needed to write this. your kindness in enhablr is felt by this entire community, and it seriously would be so much scarier here without you. as always, reblogs are always appreciated <3
playlist: double take - dhruv // the way i loved you - taylor swift // just a little bit - enhypen // roommates - malcolm todd // boyfriend - ariana grande & social house // pov - ariana grande
You donât hate Lee Heeseung, mostly because your mom always said that hate was just another word for love (whichâabsolutely not), but you do find him extremely infuriating.
Itâs in the way heâs always just had to be a step ahead of you. Like that time in the fifth grade when your teacher held a mock election for your government lesson, and heâd deliberately ran against you with the sole intention of annoying you. And when he won, he didnât even do any of the things heâd promised! All he did was pass out whiteboards, and he always made sure to give you the one with the annoying black scribbles on them.
You went through high school like that, with him constantly one upping you in everything you did. Heâd even almost beaten you for valedictorian, but you scored two and a half points higher than him on your AP Physics final and the spot was rightfully given to you.Â
He didn't even seem mad about it, which made the entire thing even more infuriating. Heâd spent years trying to prove he was better than you and didn't even flinch when it all amounted to nothing? What a tool.
University was supposed to be an escape. Not just from the mean high school girls and the boring small town you came from, but from him as well. Youâd finally be able to breathe without him constantly hovering, youâd finally be able to relax without the constant worry that he was going to do something to ruin it.
So when you walked into your first day of classes at Decalis University, fully expecting to see no one familiar, you can imagine your absolute horror to see him sitting front and center like he owned the place.
He was already making good conversation with your professor, you could tell by how the older man was talking so admittedly with his hands and smiling like he couldnât get enough of whatever it was Heeseung was talking about.Â
Thatâs the thing about Heeseung, everyone around you always seems to think heâs this perfect, charming guy. They donât see what he really is, not like you do. You seem to be the only person he decides to be his actual evil self with. Why he chose you, you arenât entirely sure. You donât think you ever will be.
But that was six months ago, and despite the giant Heeseung shaped stain on your university experience, the entire thing has been significantly better than high school. You donât see him as much for starters, and when you do he seems too busy to actually try and annoy you. Not for a lack of trying thoughâthose first few months were torture.
Youâve got an eight am class today, which means you have an excuse to make a stop at the coffee shop on campus. Itâs right next to your dorm which is insanely convenient and definitely bad for your health, but you're a freshman in college. You donât think you could name a single person who isnât surviving off of cheap coffee and gas station noodles.
The line is long, which wouldnât normally be an issue, but youâre running late and your professors decided he'll dock a letter grade for every tardy. You havenât had to go through that pain yet, and you really donât want to change that now.
You rock back and forth on your feet uncomfortably, the line seeming to move slower and slower. You almost consider saying fuck it and just going to class, but then you remember that youâre running off of two hours of sleep and decide youâd rather not fall asleep during your lesson.
It takes another ten minutes before you place your order, and then youâre solemnly waiting off to the side and trying to act like your nerves arenât tangling up in your stomach.
âLong line, huh?â
You tense. You recognize that voice, and when you look up, the face that accompanies it is enough to ruin your entire morning more than it already has been. So much for not bothering you.
Your eyes narrow, lips curling downwards. At this point, youâre starting to believe your body's natural reaction to Lee Heeseung is immediate disdain. âWhy are you talking to me?â You ask bluntly. No point in small talk with him, especially when you know heâs just trying to get under your skin by speaking to you.
He laughs, teeth on display as he does. âAre you this hostile with everyone when you first wake up?â
âOnly people who annoy me.â
âI just made an observation, why would that annoy you?â
You shoot him a glare, crossing your arms over your chest. He knows exactly what heâs doingâhe always has. His innocent act may work on every other person in this university, but not you. You know Heeseung, you know that getting under people's skin is his favorite pastime. You just wish you understood why he loves to do it to you specifically.
âCan you justâŠnot? You know what youâre doing.â
âI promise I donât.â The smirk threatening to break onto his lips says otherwise.
You take a deep breath and choose not to play into his game anymore. Itâs pretty easy actually, because the barista calls out your name and you practically trip over your feet to grab it. Youâve got ten minutes to make it halfway across campus and into your lecture hall before youâre docked an entire letter grade. Youâve made it there with less.
You donât bother saying goodbye to Heeseung, but you feel his gaze on you as you leave. Your skin prickles from the weight of it, but you donât have the mental capacity to dwell on that right now. Itâs too early for that.
Tonightâs the last game of the football season, which means practically the entire university showed up to the stadium to show their support, if support meant getting drunk off their asses.
You hadnât planned to go, mostly because sports had never really been your thing, but Yunjin insists you have to come.
âItâll be fun!â She pleads, her lower lip jutting out in a pout. She grabs your wrist and pulls on it, but you donât budge from your spot at your desk. You told her that you had a big test to study for and thatâs why you couldnât go. It wasnât exactly a lie, but you didnât really need to study, you already knew the material like the back of your hand.
You sigh and pull your arm from her grip, âI canât do bad on this test, Yunjin. You know whatâll happen if I do.â
âYes, yes, the big bad Heeseung will score higher than you and your entire life will be ruined. Believe me, I know.â She clicks her tongue and walks behind you so her hands can rest on your shoulders. âBut I think Sunghoon would be so sad to see that you didnât come to support him for his last game.â
You immediately tense, your face going hot and stomach flipping in ways you didnât know were possible. Even just the mere mention of Park Sunghoon forces a physical reaction out of you. Itâs honestly a little embarrassing.
Sunghoon is the kind of boy you read about in romance novels or watch romcoms about. Heâs sweet, smart, and the kind of handsome you werenât aware a person can actually be. And he does it all effortlessly, like being perfect is something he was just born with. It probably was.
It doesnât help that heâs always going out of his way to talk to you. Study dates, coffee runs after class, texts about nothing in the middle of the night, all things that feel like a relationship but actually arenât.
Yunjin keeps insisting that you go for it, and you know that itâs probably not going to be as scary as youâre thinking it will be. After all, all it would do is put a title on whatever song and dance it is that the two of youâve been putting on for the past couple months.
âI doubt heâd notice if I was there or not.â You shrug, doing your best to seem casual and not like the thought of him has hearts forming in your eyes.
Yunjin squeezes your shoulder and spins your chair around so youâre forced to face her. Her red hair is pulled back into a ponytail, her brows furrowed in determination. She looks a little bit like some kind of strange love coach who takes their job way too seriously. âYouâre going to this game.â She says firmly.
âIâm not.â
âThatâs what you think.â
The stadium is loud, people talking over each other in the hopes their friends will be able to hear them. They donât, which means people just talk louder. The lights are bright and overwhelming, and you almost feel claustrophobic with how close the seats are to each other, like whoever designed the place did it without any regard for personal space at all.
Yunjin and Jake are on either side of you, both of them way too invested in the game. You are too, but not for the same reasons as them.
Sunghoon got into Decalis on a football scholarship and is the school's best starting quarterback in fifteen years. Even though he has every right to have a big head about it, heâs so humble you donât think the thoughts ever even crossed his mind. Someone always approaches him about it when youâre out together on campus, and every time without fail his cheeks go bright pink and he gets this bashful smile on his face. Itâs one of the reasons youâve fallen for him as hard as you have, because unlike most guys youâve interacted with, he doesnât seem to have much of an ego at all.
Itâs a very welcome contrast to Heeseung.
You can see him on the field too, walking behind the players sitting on the bench and getting candid shots of them. Even though you hate admitting it, heâs always been a gifted photographer. His photos were always hanging up in local art shows or featured in your high school yearbooks. Strangely, itâs the only thing he doesnât brag about, despite it being the only thing he deserves to.Â
âOh, thatâs bullshit!â Jake yells, popcorn spilling from his lap as he gestures wildly. âThat was our play!â
You give him a side-eye and sink further into your seat. You honestly couldnât care less about this whole thing; you're just excited to see Sunghoon in his post-game glow as you like to call it. Damp hair, face glowing with a sheen of sweat, his chest still heaving from running up and down the field. The entire thing is admittedly your guilty pleasure.
Yunjin elbows your ribs gently, her chin poking out to the field. You follow her gaze and find Sunghoon with his helmet in hand, drinking out of a green gatorade bottle and laughing at something one of his teammates says. He looks perfect. He is perfect.
And if things go right, heâll be yours.
By the time the game ends, youâre more than ecstatic to finally get out of your seat and see Sunghoon. Yunjin teases you the entire way down, but you barely notice her. Not when your heart is nearly fluttering out of your chest.
But when you get down there, itâs not Sunghoon you see. No, itâs something much worse.
Heeseung.
He doesnât notice you at first, and you almost think youâll be able to sneak around him, but then Jake decides itâs a good idea to open his big mouth and alert the enemy to your presence.
âHeeseung!â He calls, raising his hand in a wave. âWhatâs good, man?â
Heeseung looks up then, sharp eyes falling onto Jake, and slowly trailing over to you. He grins, all teeth and something akin to mischief, and casually makes his way over to your small group.
âHey Jake,â he greets, jutting his chin out swiftly. âYunjin.â
Yunjin returns the greeting politely. âHeeseung.â
She has no reason to be mean to him, but as your closest friend, she understands that she must, by international girl-code law, dislike anyone you dislike, which includes him.
He turns to you then, and you swear you see something flash in his eyes. He keeps the same smile on his face despite the way you glare at him. âHi, Y/N.â
âHi.â You respond shortly. You donât know why he even bothers trying to be nice to you in public, especially when he knows you're not going to return whatever sentiment it is he has.
He smirks like youâve just said the funniest thing in the world. âWould it hurt you to be nicer?â
âYes,â you respond easily. âIt would, actually.â
He frowns and grabs at his shirt dramatically, right over where his heart is. âAlways so mean.â
âYouâll live.â
He chuckles, reaching out and roughing up your hair. You smack his hands away and rush to fix it, palms smoothing down the parts he frizzed up. âDonât do that!â
He ignores you and turns to talk to Jake about the game, and you can hear them say something about how the referees almost cost the team that last quarter, but you arenât paying attention to that anymore.
Because behind Heeseung you can see a familiar head of damp black hair, thick eyebrows, and a perfect smile.
âHey guys,â Sunghoon grins as he approaches. Heâs ditched his football uniform and is instead wearing a black long sleeved compression shirt, and you swear your brain short circuits at the sight.
His attention falls to you first, just like it always does, and his smile widens just a fraction. Not enough for it to seem like anything else but a friendly gesture, but it doesnât stop your heart from fluttering out of control or your cheeks from heating to near impossible levels.
âHey!â You chirp a bit too loudly, hand shooting up in a wave.
âNice game tonight, man!â Jake gushes, his hands moving animatedly. âThe way you got that goal right at the beginning was insane! I swear, Penn didn't even know what hit them.â
Sunghoon grins and brings a hand up to his neck, the way he always does when somebody praises him, like he still canât quite process the amount of attention on him. âThanks, Jake. Seriously.â
âThose refs were awful though,â Yunjin throws in.Â
The three of them end up in conversation about the game, all of them spewing out football lingo that you couldnât be bothered to understand. Heeseung's still here too, justâŠlingering.
Heâs friends with Jake and Sunghoon, yes, but heâs always on the sidelines. Heâs been like that since high school. Heâs friends with everyone, but he never lets them in. Doesnât make any attempts to know them outside of a surface level friendship.Â
Itâs a little sad, honestly. But you stopped questioning the way his brain worked a long time ago. If he wanted to keep to himself, then that was perfectly fine by you.Â
You donât notice her approach, not until sheâs sliding into the spot next to Sunghoon like she belongs there. Short black hair, bangs that frame her face like she was born with them, big brown eyes. Kim Chaewon is as beautiful as she is smart, and unbelievably kind. Not to mention sheâd made cheer captain as a sophomore, and has kept the title all the way into her junior year.
âHey, Hoon,â she says, voice sweet like honey. You know it shouldnât, but something twists low and deep in your chest at the way she looks at him. Like she knows him. Like he belongs to her.
You expect him to greet her like he does everyone else. Always polite, but without the extra tenderness he saves for you. Without the small quirk of his lips or the subtle softening of his eyes, because that had always been yours. Your look.
Instead, when he looks at her, his lips quirk up, his eyes soften, and he snags a hand around her waist like he canât imagine it being anywhere else.
You think this must be a joke. Not a very funny one, but a joke nonetheless. A tasteless prank. Because there is no way Park Sunghoonâthe same Park Sunghoon that calls you in the middle of the night and insists he walk you home from classâhas his arm around Kim Chaewon and is giving her the same look he gives you.
Yunjin looks just as shocked as you feel, but sheâs never been as good at having a poker face as you. Her jaw drops, eyes going wide as she stares at the pair of them. âUm,â she laughs uncomfortably, âSunghoon do you mind maybe⊠informing us as to who this is?â
Yunjin knows who Chaewon is, you know that. She's doing that thing she does where she tries to indirectly ask someone something without coming off as rude. For once, you're thankful for her weird methods.
Sunghoon clears his throat, his eyes flickering to yours for a split second before they return to Chaewon. âRight, uh,â he swallows, and you watch as his fingers flex at his side. A nervous habit. âThis is Chaewon. Weâve beenâŠseeing each other.â
You blink, your mind going a million miles a minute as you try to make sense of what heâs saying. The words are coming out of his mouth, and yet they still feel fake. Like a figment of your worst nightmare where the boy youâre in love with tells you heâs seeing someone.
âSeeing each other?â You repeat, voice raising in pitch.Â
Chaewon nods, her lips curling up into a shy smile as she places a hand on Sunghoon's chest. âIt was a recent development,â she chuckles.
You feel like youâre going to be sick.
Sunghoon smiles at her before removing his arm from her waist so he can gesture at the three of you. âHow do you feel about dinner so Chae can get to know you guys? My treat.â
Chae. How long has this been going on for them to already have cute little nicknames for each other?
The thought of sitting at dinner with them sounds like torture. Having to sit there and watch him touch her? Smile at her? You donât want to sound jealous (you are), but thatâs supposed to be you. Youâre the one he should be smiling atâyou were the one! You canât wrap your head around how he could suddenly be seeing someone when just last week he was smiling at you like you meant something to him?
Had you imagined it? Convinced yourself there was something there when he was just being friendly? But even Yunjin said he looked at you differently. Was she just feeding into your delusions?
Heeseung's voice pulls you out of your frenzy, and when you look up, heâs looking straight at you like he can read your mind. âSorry, man,â he says, eyes staying on you for a moment longer before they shift to Sunghoon. âIâve gotta get these pictures developed before they close the red room.â
Sunghoon waves him off, âdonât worry about it.â He says, âIâll see you when we get home tonight. What about you guys?â
Thereâs absolutely no way youâre going to dinner with them. You canât, like, physically canât. You think youâll die if you do.
Instead of saying that, or coming up with some kind of excuse, what comes out is, âIâm free.â
Yunjin's head snaps to you in shock, and then she blurts out a sudden, âsame!â
Jake shrugs, âIâve got nothing better to do.â
âGreat!â Sunghoon grins, âletâs meet at that diner off of fifth? Theyâre usually open late.â
He walks away after that, hand in hand with Chaewon, and you watch them go while your heart sinks deep into your chest. Sheâs laughing at something he says, her free hand slapping his arm lightly, and he smiles down at her like sheâs the only girl in his universe. The same way you thought he was doing to you.
âWell,â Heeseungs starts, his eyes finding youâd once again, like he can feel the hurt radiating off your body. He probably can. âSince when was that a thing?â
Jake shrugs the way most clueless men do. âNo idea.â
The two of them walk away after that, and youâre thankful to be left alone with Yunjin.
âWhat the fuck?â She says, hands resting on her hips. âThatâs gotta be a joke. Or maybe some kind of dare. I donât fucking know, but thereâs no way theyâre actually seeing each other! He was literally blowing up your phone two days ago!â She snaps her fingers like sheâs made some kind of profound discovery. "It must be some kind of spell. You know, Iâve always thought witches and magic were realââ
âYunjin,â you interrupt, eyes already glassy and throat closing up with an onslaught of tears. You arenât going to cry over himâthat would be ridiculous, especially since you werenât even dating, but that doesnât mean it still doesnât hurt. If youâre being completely honest, it hurts like hell.
Yunjin notices immediately, and before you can process it, sheâs throwing her arms around you and pulling you into her chest in the middle of the field. âIâm sorry, babe,â she sighs, âI really thought he was going to ask you out tonight.â
Sheâs not the only one.Â
You just shrug, doing your best to mask your hurt, even though you know thereâs no point when it comes to Yunjin. Youâve only known her for six months, yet sheâs the only person who can read you like an open book. âItâs fine.â
âItâs not,â she mumbles, pulling away from you and placing her hands on your shoulders. âBut it will be. Because weâre going to show Sunghoon exactly what he missed out on.â
You snort, rolling your eyes and shrugging her off of you so you can make the trek back to your shared dorm. âWhat are you talking about?â
She shrugs, âyouâll see.â
You should question her. Should refuse to go anywhere with her until she tells you what her plan is, but you donât do any of that. You trust Yunjin, and you know that while her methods may be strange, she does everything with good intentions. Besides, you doubt you wonât be able to handle whatever it is sheâs cooking up.
The diner off of 5th is the only place that stays open after ten pm and still serves edible food. Itâs a campus staple, which means itâs nearly always packedâespecially after games. So, you arenât too surprised that you have to weave through multiple bodies just to find the table Sunghoon had managed to snag for the five of you, and nobody comments when it takes you nearly five minutes just to make it from the front door to your seats.
âIâm starving,â Yunjin groans, her tongue swiping over her lips as she flips through the menu. The both of you know sheâs just going to get the same thing she does every time, but she says she finds joy in looking unpredictable.
âMe too,â Sunghoon agrees.Â
He looks good. Tired, but good. His hair is falling over his eyes in that dorky kind of way and heâs wearing his glassesâa rare sight. Normally, youâd be the only one doing this much analysis into his look, but when you glance over at Chaewon, sheâs staring at him with a dopey grin on her face.
You frown and look down at your menu. You still donât understand how this couldâve happened. It just didnât make any sense. When you take out the part where youâre totally in love with Sunghoon, it still makes no sense for him to hide his apparent relationship with Chaewon. Was it a relationship? Are they even dating? Or are they just in that weird space between where you both know itâs going to happen, but theyâre still choosing to dance around it?
Youâd thought you were there with Sunghoon. You thought it was only a matter of time before he swept you off of your feet and confessed his love for you with some kind of grand, dramatic gesture.
But your life is clearly not a movie, because Park Sunghoon is reaching for Chaewon's hand under the table. His thumb is rubbing small, comforting circles into her skin, and sheâs doing a very bad job at hiding her smile.
You shouldnât have agreed to come.
Jake, for all his strange qualities, has always been observant (except when it comes to possible romantic partners), and he watches the entire exchange with narrowed eyes and bated breath. Youâd never talked to him about your relationship with Sunghoon, but he (along with your nemesis) was the guy's roommate, so you assume he must've known that there was something going on between you. Unless you really are just delusional and everything had been entirely friendly.
âSo,â Jake starts, wagging his finger towards the couple. âWeâre so glad youâre here, Chaewon. Seriously. But I just canât believe this is the first Iâm hearing aboutâŠthis. I mean, not to sound like a douche or anything, but I live with Sunghoon and he hasnât brought you up once. Heâs talked aboutââ his eyes find yours for a fleeting moment, before he clears his throat and tries to pretend it never happened. âItâs just kind of unexpected.â
Chaewon giggles, reaching a hand up and swiping her bangs over her forehead. They fall right back into place. âIt was a recent development.â
Yunjin snorts, taking a sip from her cup with the kind of casual confidence you wish you had. âClearly.â
If anybody catches the irritation in her tone, they donât comment on it.Â
âHe actually hit me with a football during practice,â Chaewon laughs, bringing her arm up to rest casually behind Sunghoon. You can nearly make out her fingers playing with the soft hair at the nape of his neck. âIt was the total opposite of a meet-cute. But it still worked out anyway, because he invited me to coffee as an apology and things just went from there.â
Coffee? He always takes you to coffee. Did they go to the same place you go to? Did he show her the secret menu thatâs not really a secret? Did he joke around with your favorite barista like he does when heâs with you?
Your throat feels tight again, but you suck down a gulp from your drink and try to act like you arenât on the brink of emotional collapse.
Yunjin smiles, but it looks forced. She taps your thigh once, like sheâs warning you, but before you can question it, sheâs already opening her mouth. âYou know, thatâs honestly kind of crazy. Two of my friends are getting into relationships at the same time. Youâd think Iâd get some of that luck too considering I seem to be the common denominator here, but nope!â
You blink. You love Yunjin, you really do, but outside of you the only other person you saw her consistently speak to is her pet gerbil. And even that was leaning into more of a casual situation lately.
Sunghoonâs eyebrows raise briefly, but heâs quick to lower them. âReally?â He mumbles. You can practically feel the curiosity radiating off of him. Heâs always been way too nosy. âWho?â
The next few moments are still a bit of a blur in your mind. You remember feeling like someone had spilled a bucket of cold water on you, but when you ran a hand through your hair, it was completely dry.
Yunjin smiles, and she looks so innocent you almost believe the lie that rolls off of her tongue like honey. You probably wouldâve if it didn't have to do with you. â[Y/N], youâve been seeing someone recently as well, havenât you?â
You nearly choke, eyes widening into saucers. You splutter for an answer, blinking rapidly as you do. âWhat? A relationship? I donâtâwell, I meanâmaybeâ?â Itâs not until Yunjin sends a swift heel to your shin do you manage to get out a full sentence. âYes,â you squeak. âI have beenâŠseeing someone. Itâs very recent. Very new. Honestly, Iâm just as surprised as you are that it happened so quickly.â
The table goes silent for a moment, and you suddenly feel very, very exposed. You know Yunjin knows youâre a terrible liar, she witnessed it firsthand when you tried to lie about eating her leftover cheesecake, and yet she thought making you lie in a group setting would make your skills any better? If anything, it just made them ten times worse!
Youâre waiting for the inevitableâfor someone to give an uncomfortable laugh before attempting to move the conversation forward. Meanwhile, youâre going to pray to whatever is listening up in the sky for the floor to swallow you whole and for this day to have never happened.
But that doesnât happen. Instead, the next few moments are probably the most confusing of your life.Â
âThatâs good, [Y/N],â Sunghoon says, smiling at you the way he does with everyone else. Itâs not the smile youâre used to. Not the curl of his lips that would send butterflies fluttering around in your stomach and make your cheeks burst with color. This one is practiced, easy. Entirely wrong. âWhoâs the lucky guy?â
You pale, parting your lips to give some shitty excuse. Maybe your delivery man? You met when he was dropping off your amazon vibrator and he complimented you on the brand. A very plausible start to any college relationship, and itâd be easy to hide considering heâs not real.Â
But before you can tell your made-up story, Yunjin beats you to the punch.
âOh, youâre going to lose your mind. I know I did when she told me.â She laughs aloud, and when her eyes find yours, you suddenly wish youâd never even gotten out of bed this morning. Maybe finishing the course with a B wouldnât have been so bad if it meant you got to avoid this terrible fate.
She leans forward on the table, lowering her voice into that soft teasing tilt sheâs perfected. âSheâs been seeing your other roommate. The one she apparently canât stand.â
Jakeâs eyes widen, his hands slamming on the table so he can lean against them and get a better look at you. He practically screams when he asks, âyouâve been seeing Heeseung?â
You shouldâve just taken the dock off of your grade.
âYunjin, do not come near me right now or I swear to God youâre going to be missing chunks of hair.â
She winces, hands immediately tugging on the red strands. âAnything but the hair! You know itâs my best feature.â She attempts to joke, but youâre having absolutely none of it.
âYou realize they live with him, right? What happens when they ask him about his apparent relationship with me?â You snap, slamming the door to your dorm behind you. The walk here had been completely silentâor, at least, it had been from your end. Yunjin spent the entire time trying to act like she hadnât just lied to all of your friends that you were dating Lee Heeseung. The one person in this world everyone knows you cannot stand.
She flops onto her bed and stretches her arms over her head. âTheyâre guys! They donât talk about that kind of stuff. Jake didnât even know Sunghoon was seeing Chaewon! Which, can we talk about that, actually? I mean, seriously, what the fuck? One second heâs taking you on these cute little dates and the nextââ
âYunjin,â you groan, rubbing the heels of your palm into your eyes. Youâre absolutely exhausted, and you arenât sure how much longer you can talk about Sunghoon without your head wanting to explode. âAs much as Iâd love to talk about Sanghoon's sparkling love life and my lack of one, Iâve got a nine am tomorrow that Iâd rather not have to sleep through because I stayed up all night talking about my nonexistent love life.â
She nods, a small smile on her lips. "No, yeah, of course. But, before you become dead to the world, youâre actually kind of wrong about something.â
âWhat?â
âYour love life isnât nonexistent,â she says thoughtfully. âYouâre seeing Heeseung, remember?â
You throw the pillow at her so hard youâre surprised it doesnât mold to her face.
Youâve always enjoyed your nine am literacy analysis lecture. After all, youâre an English major. Literacy analysis is kind of your whole thing.
The only part of the class that is mildly annoying is the fact that you share it with Heeseung. But, surprisingly, he rarely ever bothers you. You arenât sure if itâs because heâs finally matured and realized itâs stupid to bother you during lecture, or if heâd just gotten bored of the entire thing. Either way, youâd be perfectly fine with whatever the answer was as long as it kept him away from you.
Today though, your nerves are practically fried. Does he know? Did he expose you? You donât know why he would lie for you, and honestly, you donât expect him to. He probably laughed out loud before Sunghoon and Jake even asked him about it.
God, you love Yunjin, you really do, but right now you wish sheâd stayed home with her gerbil last night. Maybe that way she wouldnât have been able to open her big mouth.
You donât look at Heeseung when you enter. You donât even look in his general direction. You just keep your head down and try to look as normal as possible through the lecture, which is exceptionally difficult when your mind is buzzing with so much nervous energy it could power the entire university.
The usual hour seems to pass by in a blur, and when your professor releases you for dismissal, youâre quick to pack your bags and make a swift exit. You're practically out of breath by the time you make it outside, but youâre relieved you managed to get out without having to make any contact with Heeseung. You arenât sure you wouldâve been able to survive the embarrassment.
You pull the strap of your bag further up your shoulder and pull out your phone, fully ready to call Yunjin and complain to her about the mess sheâs gotten you into, but a call of your name forces your head up.
Heeseung makes his way over to you casually, a backwards baseball cap covering up his dirty blonde hair and his hands stuffed into the pockets of his jeans. He isnât giving you that usual teasing smile he always wears when he sees you, instead he looks unusually serious.Â
You tense, pulse pounding in your ears and alarm bells ringing in your head. You have half the mind to turn and make a run for it, but he reaches you before your feet can move.
âHi,â he says simply. Casually. Like heâs talking to a friend and asking about the weather.
You hesitate, but return the greeting nonetheless. â...Hi.â
He cracks a smile, but scrunches his nose before it reaches his eyes and his lips fall back down into a straight line. âWe need to talk.â
Your blood turns to ice, skin paling before you can stop it. He knows. And if he knows that means he told everyone the truth, and heâs probably already told the entire campus about your stupid lie as well. Youâre going to be known as the girl who lied about being in a relationship because she couldn't accept that the boy she likes has a girlfriend, and then you're going to have to transfer somewhere else and start going by a new name.Â
God, you are going to kill Yunjin. Itâll be like a final goodbye before youâre forced to move across the country.
You shake your head immediately. âNo, uh, we donât actually. I already know what youâre going to say, so Iâll just start packing my things now. No need for this awkward rejection or whateverânot that Iâm being rejected by you. God, Iâd rather die before I go out with you. But, Yunjin has a big mouth and I never know how to stop her before she says something stupid, so now my social life is totally dead andââ
Youâre rambling so fast it takes a moment for you to register that Heeseung's laughing, and even longer to realize that heâs laughing at you. His shoulders shake from the force of it, and the back of his hand comes up to cover his mouth. If this was anyone else, you might even think he looked cute.
You swallow, unable to help the pout that forms on your lips. âAnd now youâre laughing at me.â
âIâm sorry,â he chuckles, taking in a deep breath and trying to find some composure. âItâs justâŠyouâve always been really good at jumping to conclusions.â
Your brows furrow, mouth parting as you try to process his words. What does he mean youâre good at jumping to conclusions? Why does he always talk like he knows anything about you? You know they shouldnât, but the words tick you off. âWhat are you talking about?â
He shrugs, lips curving up into that smile youâve unfortunately become way too familiar with. The one that screams trouble and always means heâs up to no good. âI have to admit, I was pretty surprised when Jake grilled me for half an hour last night on our apparent relationshipââ you visibly wince, but he ignores it and continuesâ âbut, I thought to myself, why on earth would [Y/N] [L/N] tell our friends we were in a relationship? I figured you had to have a reason, so I went along with it.â
Your jaw drops, eyes blinking a mile a minute like maybe thatâll help everything make sense. Newsflash, it doesnâtâif anything it just makes everything feel ten times more confusing. âYou what?â
He shrugs, âyou have a reason, right? Otherwise, we just became a couple for no reason. Unless thatâs what you wanted? Was this whole thing just an elaborate scheme to get with me?â His voice drops an octave, and he takes a step closer, until suddenly heâs in your space and you can smell the fresh linen from his detergent and his cedarwood cologne. âYou know, princess, if you wanted to be with me, all you had to do was ask.â
You might be extremely confused right now, but youâve got enough sense to know that the last thing you want in your life is to be in a real relationship with him. And you definitely donât want him calling you princess.Â
You take a step back, your arms coming up to put space between the two of you. âEw, no, absolutely not. Like I said, Iâd rather die before I dated you.â
He hums, shoving his hands back in his pockets and beginning to walk away. âOkay. Iâll just go tell Jake and Sunghoon that you lied thenââ
Your hand shoots out and wraps around his arm before you can stop yourself, and you feel the muscle tense up beneath your fingertips. He stills, his head tilting as he looks back at you.
You swallow, taking your pride down with the saliva. âIâm sorry,â you sigh out, âI just don't know how to go about this without sounding like a total loser.â
His lips curve up and he turns so heâs facing you fully. âYouâre going to sound like a loser to me no matter what, so just tell me.â
You glower, your hand dropping back to your side. You try to ignore the warmth lingering in your palm as it balls up at your side. âIâve had a thing for this guyââ
He nods. âSunghoon, right?â
Is it really that obvious? You narrow your eyes, âHowâd you know? Did he say something about me?â
He shakes his head. âNo, but Iâve seen the way you follow each other like lost puppies. Iâve gotta admit, I was surprised when he popped out with Chaewon and not you.â
You donât know if that makes you feel better or worse. If even Heeseung, the one person you absolutely cannot stand, could see that there was something between you and Sunghoon, then that must mean you arenât delusional. But, on the other hand, it makes you wonder what made Sunghoon change his mind so quickly.
Were you trying to take things too slow? Did he get bored of the waiting? You thought the dancing around each other was sweet, but maybe he was looking at it differently. Maybe he just got sick of waiting around for you.
Heeseung must notice how your thoughts have wandered, because he waves a hand in front of your face and raises his brows. âYou still with me?â
Your eyes snap to him and your cheeks heat with embarrassment. âYeah, sorry, um, as I was saying, Iâve had a thing for him for a while. So, when he took us to dinner with Chaewon last night, Yunjin had this bright idea to say that I was also in a relationship withâŠyou. And the whole thing just kind of spiraled from there.â
Heâs silent for a moment, like heâs processing your words. âShe said we were dating to make Sunghoon jealous? How does that work?â
You groan and run a hand over your face. âI donât know! I donât know what she was thinking! Iâve already yelled at her over it!â You feel your frustration building again, but you take a deep breath and force it down. âIt was stupid. And now youâre dragged into this entire mess and I donât know how Iâm going to tell everyone the truth.â
There are a lot of things you dislike about Heeseung. Heâs rude in that passive aggressive kind of way, and he only ever does it to you. He always forgets a pen and never gives yours back when you lend one to him. Heâs wildly selfish and thinks that the entire world revolves around him. He also always manages to catch you by surprise, and you absolutely loathe surprises.
Today is no exception.
His lips part in thought, and for the first time you can actually see him thinking about what heâs going to say before he says it. Usually, he just blurts out whatever's on his mind and deals with the consequences later.
âWhat ifâŠâ he hesitates for a moment. âWhat if you didnât tell them?â
âWhat?â
He splutters for a moment, a nervous laugh bubbling from his lips. âI just mean, what if we let everyone think weâre dating? Not that we actually date. That would beâŠawful.â
âWhy would we do that, though?â You ask, crossing your arms over your chest. âItâs not like me having a boyfriend is going to change Sunghoon's mind. And what would you even get out of it aside from undeniable blackmail material?â
He shrugs, âactually Sunghoon looked pretty distraught last night. He kept asking me about you and our budding relationship.â
Your heart skips a beat at that. He was asking about you? It shouldn't affect you like it does, especially when heâs got a girlfriend, but the thought of him thinking about you has butterflies flying around your stomach.
Still, it doesnât explain why Heeseung would want to help you. Heâs never gone out of his way to do it before, so you donât see why he would now.Â
âBut, what do you get out of this?â You ask, pointing a wary finger at him. âYouâve never been nice enough to actually help me before.â
He scoffs, âfirst off, that's not true. What about that science project we did Junior year? The one with the ant colony? I partnered up with you after Stella got that weird illness.â
âYou mean the ant colony you released into Mrs. Hong's room? She made us deep clean the room every day for, like, two weeks. And Stella had pneumonia.â
âYeah, but that was after weâd already gotten an A.â
You resist the urge to roll your eyes.
He sighs and pulls out a creme folder from his bag. He taps it once and hands it to you. You accept it questioningly, looking up at him through your lashes with suspicion. âWhat is this?â
âMy portfolio,â he explains. Just as he said, when you open it there's what you think must be hundreds of photos. Some of nature, some of the people on campus, some of just random mundane things. Theyâre all breathtaking shots, and it's then that you remember heâs here on a full scholarship after winning some national photography contest. Itâd been the only thing he talked about for weeks.
You knew he was going to win the moment it was announced.
âWow,â you mumble, continuing to flip through the photos. âThese are amazing.â
He brings a hand up to his neck and scratches at it nervously. âThanks.â
One picture captures your attention. Itâs a candid shot of Sunghoon in class, his glasses slipping down the bridge of his nose, eyebrows tucked in that adorable way they always are when heâs frustrated. The people around him are blurry, and you assume theyâre getting their stuff for dismissal.
âThe photography committee on campus is holding a competition,â he continues, â$100,000 and your pictures are featured in international art shows. But, in order to enter, I need a muse. Someone I can get consistent pictures of. If weâre âdatingâ, no one will question why Iâm constantly taking pictures of you, and it saves me the hassle of having to ask anyone else.â
You raise a brow. He wants to be in a fake couple so that he can take pictures of you for a contest? It doesnât feel like a fair trade to you at all. âWhy donât you ask Jake or Sunghoon? Iâm sure they wouldnât mind.â
He gives you a fixed look. âI already did, but they both claimed they were too busy. Youâre my last resort before I start asking random people on campus.â
The explanation still feels weird to you, but you arenât going to fight him anymore on it. Besides, youâre still trying to wrap your head around the fact that youâre now in a fake relationship with public enemy number one.
âSoâŠwhat now?â You ask, closing the folder and handing it back to him. He takes it with steady hands, and when his fingers brush yours, thereâs a solid five seconds where your breath catches in your throat and you almost forget about everything you dislike about Heeseung.
âJay Parkâs having a party tomorrow night,â he breathes, lips turning up into that awful smile. âBeer. Dancing. Maybe some weed. Sunghoon and Chaewon will definitely be there, which means you and I will also be there.â
Your nose scrunches at the thought. Youâd only gone to one party so far, and the entire experience had been so awful youâd sworn them off completely.
âI donât really do parties,â you mumble.
Heeseung snorts like thatâs the understatement of the century. âWe won't stay for long. Just long enough for Sunghoon to see us, and then weâll go.â
You nod, and the air between the two of you suddenly feels heavy. Your tongue darts out to wet your lips and your eyes fall to the floor. âThank you,â you say sincerely. âFor helping me.â
He doesnât smirk. Doesnât tease. Just nods casually like fake dating people is something he does daily. âIâll see you tomorrow night, princess.â
You really need to tell him to stop calling you that.
When you tell Yunjin, she doesnât even try to act surprised. âI knew it would work out,â she says confidently, staring at a pimple in her reflection. âThat's why I said it in the first place.â
You roll your eyes, fingers moving over your keyboard rapidly. You need to finish up your analysis paper before the deadline next week, but every time you sit down to write your brain wanders to dirty blonde hair and that annoyingly perfect smile.
âWhatever.â You mumble, âheâs expecting me to go to some party with him tomorrow night, but I donât know. I really need to finish this paper, and the last time we went to a party I got so drunk I collided with the wall.â
Yunjin snorts at the memory, and then sheâs standing and making her way over to you. She sits crisscrossed on your bed and ever-so-gently forces your laptop closed. You donât argue with her, itâs not like you were getting anything done anyway.
âSo, your fake boyfriendâwho by the way, is super hotâis asking you to go to a party with him, and you donât want to because youâd rather stay at home and analyze Edgar Allen Poe?â She asks, drawing out the sentence so you feel completely and utterly stupid.
âItâs not Edgar Allen Poe,â you mutter, âand, I donât know, this entire thing just feels so insane! Like, what am I hoping happens? Sunghoon realizes heâs actually in love with me and breaks up with Chaewon?â
âExactly that, yes.â Yunjin nods, like itâs obvious.
You shoot her a glare. âThatâs not fair to either of them. If theyâre happy, why should I try to ruin that?â
Yunjin sighs, her hands reaching out to grab yours. She brings them into her lap and squeezes them comfortingly. âIf theyâre happy, then you being in a relationship with Heeseung isnât going to matter. But you said he asked about you, right? That means he still cares at least a little bit, and if thatâs the case, then itâs not fair to Chaewon for him to stay with her.â She smiles softly, her shoulders bobbing as she shrugs them. âI donât know what heâs doing right now, but I know that there was something going on between the two of you. And if you care about him, you shouldnât let that go without a fight.â
When she wanted to, Yunjin could give some seriously killer advice. Your lips curve up, chest feeling lighter and mind not so hazy. âThanks, Yunjin. Seriously. I donât know what Iâd do without you.â
âDie, probably.â
You laugh loudly, throwing your head back with it. âYeah,â you agree, âprobably.â
The next night, your nerves are absolutely shot. Heeseung texted you that heâd pick you and Yunjin up from your dorm at seven, which meant youâd spent the entire day stressed out of your mind.
Sunghoon was going to be there, that much was obvious, but the thought of parading yourself around with Heeseung in front of him makes you feel sick. For one, he knows you. Heâs always been able to see right through you, and you have half the mind to think heâll make your little lie before you even step through the door.
You suck in a breath, your hands smoothing out the sides of your skirt. The dress Yunjin lent you is a lot shorter than anything youâre used to wearing, and the black cloth hugs your curves in a way youâre not entirely used to seeing on yourself. Your heels force your back to arch, highlighting the curve of your spine and the plump of your ass.
You give yourself a once-over in the mirror, hands coming down to tug the fabric further down your thighs. âAre you sure this isnât too much?â You ask.
Yunjin clicks her tongue, and you can see her fighting with the straps of her own dress through the mirror. âAbsolutely not. You look amazing. The guys are going to lose their minds when they see you in that.â
You raise a brow and turn around to face her. âGuys? Like, plural?â
âWell, yeah,â she shrugs, âSunghoon and Heeseung.â
Sunghoon, yes. Youâd love for him to notice you. But Heeseung? Absolutely not. You could seriously care less about what he thinks about you. He was there when you didnât understand how to get rid of your acne and when makeup was more of a suggestion then something you actually did everyday.
âEw, no,â you gag, âI donât care what Lee Heeseung thinks about me. The only reason heâs even helping me is for his portfolio or whatever. Heâs not doing it out of the kindness of his heart.â
Yunjin hums, smoothing out her dress and giving herself one final look over in the vanity mirror. She looks amazingâshe always does. You arenât jealous of Yunjin, but sometimes you wonder what itâd be like to have her confidence. âYou seriously think heâs doing this just for his portfolio?â
âUm, yeah. Thatâs what he said.â
She walks over to you then, her chin resting on your shoulder. âI thinkâand donât go nuclear on me for thisâbut I think he likes you. Like, like-likes you.â
A laugh bursts from your chest. That is the single most absurd thing youâve ever heard in your life. Heeseung can barely stand being in the same room as you without having to get under your skin. He doesnât like you, he just enjoys pissing you off.Â
âYouâre funny,â you snort, âand so insanely wrong.â
She shrugs and takes a step back from you. âI donât know, [Y/N]. I donât know many guys who get into fake relationships with people they dislike just so they can finish their portfolio.â
Your phone buzzes from your bed, and when you pick it up youâve got a text message from Heeseung saying heâs here.Â
âYou donât know many guys in general, Yunjin.â You retort. You quickly grab your purse and stuff your phone inside. âHeâs here. Donât say anything weird in the car, please. I think youâve embarrassed me enough in the last two days to last a lifetime.â
âNo promises,â she winks.
Heeseung's car isnât super nice. Itâs pretty typical for any college student, actually. Thereâs a scratch on the passenger side door and a dent on the hood, and it looks like it could definitely use a round through the car wash. But, despite that, the sight of it makes you nostalgic.
You remember when he pulled into your first day of Junior year with this thing. He bragged about it to anyone who would listen. Heâd saved up the entire summer to buy it, and he treated the run down thing like it was his pride and joy. You wonder if thatâs still the case today.
Heâs leaning against your door when you step outside. Dirty blonde hair, backwards baseball cap, that same fucking smile. The sight alone is enough to irritate you.
But thereâs a brief moment where the smile falters. His eyes trail over you, all the way from your heels to your eyes, and you swear you see his ears go the lightest shade of pink.
You raise a brow, but before you can comment on it the smile is back and heâs acting like nothing happened. âNice dress,â he clicks his tongue, âI didnât think you owned anything that didnât look like it came from a librarian's closet.â
You hate him. You hate him so much it hurts your soul. It envelops your being like an ugly monster.
You want to tell him that, but you donât, because at the end of the day heâs helping you for whatever reason, and your mother told you that hating people was inherently wrong. So, you swallow down your annoyance and make your way to his car. âCan we try and go one night without you being a dick?â
âI donât know,â he smirks, âyouâre the one dating this dick, princess.â
You frown and try not to think about the double meaning behind his words. âFake dating,â you correct.
âRight. Fake dating.â
The tension between you is thick, and not in the way youâre used to. Instead, this feels like some sort of gravitational pull towards him. Something youâd kept buried that is trying to dig its way back from the grave.
Yunjin groans behind you. Youâd nearly forgotten she was here. âGod, can you guys just fuck already and get it over with? Your sexual tension is starting to make me jealous.â
âYunjin!â You practically screech. Your hands gesture wildly as you attempt to defend yourself. âThis is notâthere is no sexual tension! Thatâs not what this is!â
She gives you a look that says: donât make me call bullshit.
You sigh and run a hand over your eyes. âJust get in the car.â
The party is just outside of campus, in Jay Park's two-story home that he mysteriously pays for by himself. (Everyone knows heâs a trust fund baby.) Thereâs some stragglers outside, all holding red solo cups and trying to act drunker than they really are. Youâve never understood the appeal for parties. To you, they just look like sweat fests that people gaslight themselves into thinking are fun.
Yunjin gets out of the car as soon as you pull up and quickly makes her way over to some guy by the front door. You watch as she tries to talk to him, and for once he doesnât look intimidated by her outgoing nature. Itâs kind of cute, actually.
You, on the other hand, feel a bit sick. For one, you donât know what youâre going to do when you see Sunghoon. Is he even going to care? Probably not. He literally has a fucking girlfriend, and here you are trying to show off for him like thatâll change anything.
âHey,â Heeseung murmurs from beside you, his eyebrows knitted together in what you think might be concern. âYou good?â
You blink. âI donât know.â Itâs the most honest thing youâve said all night.
Heâs silent for a moment, before heâs letting out a breath and turning to you. âYou look good, [Y/N]. Really fucking good. Donât let a dress like that go to waste because youâre in your head.â He emphasizes his point with a gentle tap to your forehead. âLetâs go in there and show Sunghoon exactly what he lost, yeah?â
You feel your cheeks heat at the compliment, but you force the words to the back of your mind to be dwelled on later. Right now, you just need to get out of this car and get through tonight without wanting to explode. And, honestly, you do want to show Sunghoon what heâs missing out on.Â
âOkay,â you nod.
He grins. âOkay.âÂ
Inside, the party is practically buzzing with people. Thereâs a few people you recognize, but itâs mostly randoms that you didnât even realize you went to school with. Thatâs the thing about college; youâre always meeting someone new. Your high school was the complete opposite of thatâyou knew everyone in your graduating class on a personal level.
Heeseung keeps a hand on your lower back the entire time, and for some reason, youâre grateful for the subtle comfort it gives you. Like itâs a reminder that heâs here and that you arenât going into this mess alone.
You eventually make your way over to the drinks, and Heeseung grabs a can of alcohol for himself and water for you. You raise a brow as he hands it to you. You hadnât planned to drink, but him handing you water makes you feel like heâs treating you like some little kid.
âActually,â you clear your throat, pointing towards the other beer can on top of the ice, âIâll have that.â
He looks caught off guard for a moment, but then he shrugs and hands the can over to you. You open it with a pop and immediately take a swig. It goes down like tar against your tongue, and your nose scrunches in disgust.
He chuckles, âsure you donât want the water?â
You really do. âIâm sure.â
Your eyes search the crowd for Sunghoon, and sure enough heâs here. Heâs playing beer pong with some of his friends from the football team, and Chaewon is at his side cheering every time he scores. They look perfect for each other, and your heart squeezes painfully at the sight. Your hands shake as you take another gulp of your beer.
Heeseung taps your waist once, before heâs tugging you into his side and pulling you towards the dance floor. Alarm bells ring in your head as you weave through the crowd. You canât dance, anytime youâve tried youâve embarrassed yourself so bad youâve debated never showing your face in public again.
âHeeseung,â you attempt, âI canât dance!â
âNeither can anyone else here. Besides, we canât just sit in the corner and expect Sunghoon to care. If heâs having a good time, you need to be having an even better one.â He says easily.
You scoff as he comes to a stop in the middle of the floor, directly in Sunghoon's line of sight. Heeseung has always been able to make confidence look easyâlike itâs something he was born with. You, on the other hand, are not like that. Your movements are awkward and you fumble to find a rhythm that doesnât make you look like youâre on the verge of collapse.
âWow,â he laughs, whistling lowly when you nearly trip over your own feet. âYou werenât kidding.â
Your eyes narrow as embarrassment flushes your cheeks. âI told you! God, Iâm going back to the drinksââ
Before you can walk away, he catches your wrist with his hand and pulls you back towards him. Your chest nearly collides with his, and his face is suddenly so close you can practically taste his breath on yours.
âIâm not making fun of you, princess.â He murmurs, his hands sliding up to rest on your hips, âjustâŠobserving.â
His voice is right beside your ear, and the proximity makes your body feel like itâs on fire. Suddenly, the room is too small and all you can think about is him. Sunghoon is a thought so distant in your mind you nearly forget youâd ever been thinking about him in the first place.
He brings his lips to your ear, his grip on your hips tightening the smallest bit. You wonder if heâs able to hear your heartbeat. If he can, does he know itâs beating so rapidly because of him?
âHeâs looking,â he murmurs into your hair.
The call back to reality feels like a bucket of ice water against your spine. If Heeseung notices the way you tense, he doesnât comment on it.
You clear your throat and try to ignore the way your voice shakes. âHe is?â
âHe was,â he grumbles with a click of his tongue. He pulls back so you can see his eyes, and for a moment you think he almost looks as wrecked as you feel. âIâm going to kiss you.â
Your eyes widen and you nearly choke on your own spit. âWhat?â
You barely have time to process before heâs bringing a hand up to cup your cheek, the other sliding to your spine and pulling you impossibly closer. Youâre so close your noses are nearly touching, and his cedarwood cologne feels like itâs enveloping all of your senses.
âTrust me, okay?â He murmurs.
Later, youâll say you donât know how it happened. Youâll tell Yunjin that it all happened so fast and that it really wasnât that big of a deal. He was just helping you get Sunghoon's attention.
But the truthâthe truth is that you want him to kiss you. You want him to take your breath away and for his hands to hold you like heâs afraid heâll die without you.
And that scares you.
All you can manage is one simple word. âOkay.â
And then his mouth is on yours.
The kiss is awkward at first, more a peck than anything else, but he slides his hand to the back of your neck and pulls you closer and suddenly his tongue is in your mouth and heâs kissing you like youâre something precious.
Your hands slide to his chest instinctively, fists balling up the fabric of his shirt between your fingers. His breath mingles with yours, and his tongue licks into your mouth like youâre the best thing heâs tasted in years.
You canât help the whine that slides from his lips when he pulls away, your own lips chasing his without your permission. Itâs like your body's an addict and heâs your drug of choice.Â
Heeseung's lips are swollen and his pupils are completely blown, but you doubt you look much better. His tongue darts out to swipe at his lower lip, and then heâs smiling at you. But itâs not the teasing smile youâre used to or the one he gives everyone else. Itâs softer. Real.Â
Your lips part to say something, anything, but then your thoughts go back to Sunghoon and what comes out instead is a soft, âdid he see?â
Heeseungs smile immediately drops, and something akin to disappointment flashes over his face. You donât know why the sight makes you cringe internally.Â
He glances up and nods his head. âYeah,â he says, using his grip on your hips to turn you around, âhe definitely saw.â
When you look, Sunghoonâs cheeks are pink and heâs staring directly at you. When he sees you looking, heâs quick to avert his gaze and try to act casually, but you know Sunghoon. Heâs jealous.
This is a complete win.
So, why donât you care as much as you should?
You should be ecstatic that Sunghoonâs feeling a certain way towards you. Thatâs the whole point of this stupid dealâto get Sunghoon back.
But when you turn back around and look at Heeseung, all you can think about is the way he smiled at you like you meant something to him. And how you hope he does it again.
Itâs been a week since the kiss. A full week of acting like a couple. Holding hands on campus, cheek kisses in class, coffee dates at the cafe you used to frequent with Sunghoon.Â
ItâsâŠweird. Somewhere along the way, you stopped hating Heeseung's general presence. Instead of a nemesis, heâs managed to turn himself into someone you donât really mind having around. A frenemy, maybe. Heâs funny, something you never cared enough to notice before, and heâs got this soft side to him that makes your heart melt the smallest bit.
âSo,â Yunjin grins, taking a bite of her ramen. âAny word from Sunghoon?â
Your mouth goes dry at the mention of your apparent crush. In truth, you hadn't really thought about him at all. You used to go to sleep imagining it was Sunghoon next to you, whispering sweet nothings in your ear and holding you like you were something fragile.
Now when you close your eyes at night, all you can think about is the way Heeseung's mouth felt against yours. The way his hands gripped your hips and held you close to him.
It takes everything in you to remember that Sunghoon is the goal. Youâre just feeling this way because Heeseung kissed you. Once you have Sunghoon, youâll get over it completely.
âUm,â you mumble, sinking further into your blankets, ânot yet. But Heeseung said he saw him looking at us in the coffee shop the other day. Thatâs good, right?â
She turns to you, her eyes narrowed the tiniest bit. âIt is. So why donât you sound more excited?â
You immediately go on the defensive. âI am excited! Iâm justâŠtired right now. Itâs late, and Iâve been up since seven.â
âWhatever you say.â
In truth, you arenât that excited. Itâs nice that heâs thinking about you. Itâs the entire reason you and Heeseung are doing this anyway. So why can you not bring yourself to care more?
Your phone buzzes next to you, and you have to dig through your sheets to find it. When you do, the screen is lit up with a message from Heeseung.
Hey, it reads, got time to take some photos tomorrow? Thereâs this park just a little off campus that I think would be a good spot.
Right. The portfolio. Youâd been so busy with yourself you nearly forgot you were supposed to be helping him as well.
Sure, you reply, what time?
It doesnât take long for him to respond. Iâll pick you up at eleven. Wear something nice, please.
You heart the message and set your phone down. You arenât sure what something nice is supposed to entail, but youâll do your best.
The next morning, youâre waiting outside your dorm in an outfit that you deemed appropriate for the park while also being cute. It isnât something you usually wearâthe long skirt feels restricting and the jean vest is more form-fitting then you thought it would be, but Yunjin swore up and down that you looked great, so youâre choosing to believe her.
You rock back and forth on your feet while you wait, scrolling mindlessly through your phone. Heeseung is never late, but today seems to be an exception to that.
You sigh, ready to turn around and go wait in your dorm, but the sound of your name catches you off guard.
When you look over, Sunghoon is walking over to you. He mustâve been on a run, because his arms are on full display in his sleeveless tank top. Usually, the sight would send your mind reeling. But now you barely even glance towards them.
âHi, Sunghoon.â
He nods, coming to a stop a few feet in front of you. Heâs close enough for you to see the moles on his face, but far enough that you canât smell his usual expensive cologne. A complete opposite of Heeseungs soft cedarwood and linen.
Why the fuck are you thinking about Heeseungs cologne right now?
âI havenât seen you in a while,â he says shyly, eyebrows knit together. âIâveâŠmissed hanging out with you.â
Your heart skips a beat, but for all the wrong reasons.
âSorry,â you murmur with a shrug. âIâve just been super busy lately. You know how it gets.â Itâs not a lie, you have been busy. JustâŠbusy with Heeseung.
He pauses, his tongue darting out to lick at his lips. He looks like heâs contemplating his next words, which is something youâve never seen him do. It hurts a bit that your relationship has turned into this. Just a month ago the thought of ignoring Sunghoon wouldâve seemed unfathomable. Both of you being in separate relationships (given yours is fake) wouldâve been a complete joke. And yet here you are, talking like complete strangers.
âYeah,â he says eventually, the words quiet and hesitant. âIâve seen you and Heeseung around campus. I was a little surprised, honestly.â
Your response is dry. Bordering on the edge of annoyance. âYeah. So was I.â
You both know youâre not talking about Heeseung. For a moment, he almost looks regretful.
â[Y/N]-â
âHey.âÂ
You didnât even notice Heeseung's beat up Honda pull onto your street, nor notice him walk out of it. Heâs dressed casually in a Decalis University sweatshirt and gray sweatpants. His camera hangs off his neck and rests against his stomach, and his hand instinctively hovers over it as he approaches.
Relief floods your chest at the sight of him. You donât know why. It must be some kind of hormonal thing.
Sunghoon takes a step back like heâs trying to put up an invisible wall between you. The two live together, and yet the tension radiating off of them makes you wonder what their living situation must be like right now. Jake must be in a constant state of stress.
âYouâre late,â you murmur.
Heeseung smiles, his hand reaching for yours and pulling your wrist to his mouth. He leaves a soft kiss on your inner wrist, and your cheeks flare at the gesture.Â
âSorry,â he mumbles against your skin. âTraffic.â
You fold immediately. âItâs fine. I was just worried.â
Sunghoon must sense that heâs no longer wanted, because he murmurs a soft goodbye and makes a swift exit. You watch as he jogs away, his forming growing smaller and smaller, and it doesnât hurt like it used to. It just feels likeâŠnothing. You look back to Heeseung, and any tension you had melts.
âWhat was that about?â He asks.
You shrug. âWas just saying hello.â
âAnd?â
You raise a brow. âAnd what?â
âDid he say anything about me? About our relationship?â
Oh. Right. Youâre in love with Sunghoon.
âOh,â you clear your throat and attempt to act like you hadnât completely forgotten your deal. âYeah, he did. I think heâs jealous, but heâs still with Chaewon, so does it even really matter?â
âTrust me, it does.â He snorts, leading you over to his car. âHe was talking to Jake last night about how he apparently isnât feeling any sparks with Chaewon. He wants to break up with her.â
Thatâs good. Thatâs what you wanted. You should be ecstatic and your heart should be fluttering in your chest. Instead, all you feel is a cold pang of disappointment.
âGood! That's great. Amazing, even.â You say, attempting to sound the littlest bit excited, but it just comes off flat and dull. Like youâre talking about an assignment and not the boy youâve been in love with for months.
He gives you a side-eye as he opens the passenger door for you, and you slip in like itâs second nature. At this point, it is. âYou donât sound too excited,â he observes.
Youâre not, but you canât say that. âIâm just shocked, I guess. I donât understand why he even got with Chaewon in the first place if he didnât feel anything for her. Itâs kind ofâŠmean.â
Heeseung takes a second to respond as he climbs into the driver's seat. He wordlessly hands you his phone and lets you put on your playlistâsomething you hadnât even realized was an option. You play Ariana Grande and watch as Heeseung tries to act like he doesnât enjoy it.
âSunghoons always been like that,â he says eventually. âHeâs impulsive. Doesnât think about what heâs doing until heâs regretting it and trying to act like heâs not.â
âWhy?â
Heeseung shrugs, glancing at you from the corner of his eye for a split second before going back to the road. âDonât know. Itâs just how he is.â
You chew at the inside of your cheek and look out the window. The campus passes by in a blur, people walking to class together, pigeons scavenging for any scraps they can get, the lecture hall you walk to every morning. Itâs familiar. Comfortable.
You look back to Heeseung, and instead of annoyance, you get the same feeling you do when youâre looking at campus. Familiarity. Comfort. And it scares you so much your throat nearly constricts.
âWell,â you croak, running a hand through your hair, âthatâs stupid. And all it does is hurt the people around him.â
âYeah,â he agrees softly, âit does.â
You donât talk the rest of the car ride, and youâre thankful for it. Your mind is too alert for conversation right now. You can smell his cologne, can hear him humming along to Needy by Ariana Grande, can feel his presence consuming your very soul. Itâs too much. Itâs not enough.
You donât hate Lee Heeseung. Because your mother used to say that hate was just another word for love, and that is the last thing you feel for the boy you grew up with.
When you arrive at the park, youâre entirely too eager to get out of the car. You barely wait for him to park before youâre practically stumbling out of your seat with the ordinance of a baby giraffe.Â
Heeseung gives you a look, but he doesnât say anything about it. Just directs you to where he wants to go with confidence. His hand hovers at your lower backânever touchingâjust there. Like heâs unsure of what to do with himself when youâre not around your friends and having to keep up your act.
You donât comment on it.
Eventually, he takes you to a small pond in the middle of the park. Thereâs white lilies around the water, each of them dancing in the wind while the water flows around them. The sun is bright, shining in your eyes and making you squint slightly. Itâs pretty beautiful, actually. You had no idea this place was so close to your campus.
Heeseung directs you on how to pose. How to smile like you have no idea youâre being watched. Itâs awkward at first, mostly because the only time youâve ever had someone take pictures of you like this was during your high school graduation, but it doesnât take long for the tension to ease into something softer. Easier.Â
He tells you to sit on the grass and tilt your head towards the pondâbut each shot he gets just doesnât feel right.
âMaybe lean more towards the left?â He mumbles, hand flying out to gesture at you. You do as he says, but apparently, heâs still not getting the shot he wants.Â
He clicks his tongue in frustration, ânoâthatâs notâjustâlet me fix you.â
You furrow your brows. What does that even mean? âYou donât need to fix me, Heeseungââ
He interrupts you with a laugh. âNot like that, idiot. God, youâre always so defensive.â
You part your lips to retort, but before the words can get out, heâs walking towards you and your chin is in his hand, and you suddenly forget how to communicate entirely.
He tilts your head where he wants it, the pink of his tongue poking out the tiniest bit. His face is so close that it takes everything in you to not remember how heâd tasted when his tongue was in your mouth.
You feel your cheeks heat up, but you let him do what he needs to.
âThere, thatâs the angle.â
âYou couldnât have just told me to tilt my chin up?â
He smiles and goes back to his camera. âI did, princess. You just donât listen.â
God, heâs so annoying.
But still, your lips curve up and your heart gets that same feeling it did at the party. The one that youâre not quite ready to name.
âDo we really have to go to this brunch?â You groan, flopping down onto your bed. âSunghoon and Chaewon are going to be there, and I really donât feel like watching them be all over each other.â
Yunjin shakes her head, âthatâs exactly why we have to go. So that you and Heeseung can do it right back to them.â
âThey already saw us kiss! What more do we have to do? Feed each other and do that weird baby talk bullshit couples do?â
Yunjin gags and rolls her eyes. âI donât know what couples youâre talking to, but please tell them I said to stop doing that immediately. But, no, thatâs not what I meant. How is it going to look if everyone's there except for you and Heeseung?â
âUm, fine? No oneâs going to care.â
âItâs going to look suspicious. Everyone knows you had a thing for Sunghoon before he popped out with Chaewon. You and Heeseung need to prove to everyoneânot just Sunghoonâthat youâre actually in love.â
You sigh. You know sheâs right, you just hate it. Why do you need to prove your fake relationship to your friends? It feels wrong. It feels like lying.
Actually, it is lying.Â
âI hate lying to everyone,â you sigh, hugging your pillow to your chest. âMakes me feel like a bad friend.â
âYouâre not a bad friend,â Yunjin reassures, rolling her chair over to you. It gets caught on the rug for a moment, but sheâs quick to force the wheels to move again. âBesides, what they donât know wonât hurt them.â
You give her a look. âThatâs like, the worst advice youâve ever given me.â
She chuckles, âsorry Iâm not well versed in the art of therapy for fake dating. Iâll make sure to switch my degree to better accommodate you.â
âThat would actually be great, thank you.â
She takes in a breath, her hand reaching for yours. âJustâŠdonât think of it as lying. Think about it like two friends helping each other out.â
âHeâs not my friend.â You scoff, but the words donât hold any bite behind them. Not like they used to, at least.
Yunjin grins knowingly. âYeah, he is.â
You donât bother correcting her again.
Brunch is at noon at that diner off of fifth. The same one youâd gone to when this entire mess started. The same one youâd started falling in love with Sunghoon at. Itâs weird now, seeing how much your life has changed in the short amount of time since you were last here.
You have a fake boyfriend now. You donât talk to Sunghoon. Your life feels like itâs falling apart and coming back together all at once.
You and Heeseung sit next to each other wordlessly, both of you more cautious about touching. It feels like thereâs enough space between your leg and his to fill out the Grand Canyon. It shouldnât bother you, but it does.
Sunghoon holds Chaewon's hand under the table, and their shoulders brush every time they move. Itâs irritating and annoying and you strangely enough couldnât care less about it. That sense of jealousy youâd felt the last time you were here no longer spills over your guts like acid, instead you feel nothing.
You try to force yourself to remember what youâd liked about Sunghoon. Heâs kind. Smart. Dedicated. Absolutely fucking gorgeous.
But heâs notâŠ
âHonestly,â Jake says between spoonfuls of biscuits and gravy, âwhen Yunjin told us you guys were seeing each other, I thought she was lying. I mean, you guys couldnât even be in the same room without having some kind of argument.â
You tuck a strand of hair behind your ear nervously, âyeah. I was pretty surprised too.â
You donât miss the way Heeseung cracks a smile at that. âIt was kind of sudden, but I'm glad it happened.â He says easily, âmeans I finally get to stop pretending I canât stand her.â
You can tell he hadnât meant to say that last part, because his eyes go wide and he tenses for a second. Not long enough for anyone to catch it, but you do. You see the way fear flashes behind his irises for a moment, the way his breath catches before filling out his chest once again.
Sunghoons throat bobs as he swallows, dark eyes darting between the two of you slowly. âPretending?â He asks cautiously, like heâs testing the words on his tongue.
But you donât care about Sunghoon. All you can think about is what Heeseung said. I finally get to stop pretending I canât stand her. Is he being honest? Or is this all just a part of your act? You hate that you canât tell.
âUh,â he laughs nervously, bringing a hand up to scratch at the back of his neck. âWhen we were in school, I didn't know how to get her attention. She was smart and kind and friends with everyone, and I was justâŠthere. She used to do this thing in kindergarten where sheâd wait for everyone else to fall asleep during naptime before she did because she didnât want anyone to have to sit there alone, and I remember thinking she mustâve been sent by some kind of angel.â He laughs then, a genuine one. The kind that lights up his entire face.
You hadnât even remembered you did that, but itâs true. You did. It always just felt like the right thing to do, but the fact that he remembers it all these years later makes you feel almost dizzy.Â
âI think it was in third grade when I figured the best way to get her attention was to piss her off,â he continues. âI donât know why. But I spent the next ten or more years making sure I annoyed her to the best of my ability. I think I just decided that Iâd rather have her hate me than not have her in my life at all.â
The table is silent aside from the people talking around you. Theyâre all having normal conversations while you're going through the biggest existential crisis of your life. You understand that this is supposed to be fakeâbut that didnât feel like something he made up on the spot. It felt like he was finally coming clean about something thatâd been sitting on his chest for years. And if thatâs true, where does that leave you?
âHeeseungâŠâ You attempt, eyes searching the side of his face. When he turns to you, he looks more sincere than youâve ever seen him. His hand reaches for yours under the table and he intertwines his fingers with yours. The hold is gentle, soft, right. It feels like youâre exactly where you were always supposed to be.
âSorry,â he laughs, turning back to the group. âThat was kind of sappy.â
âNah, man, that was beautiful.â Jake murmurs, bringing a hand up to his chest. âIâm happy for you guys, seriously.â
âYeah,â Sunghoon nods, âyou guys are good for each other.â He looks resigned. Like heâs accepting defeat. It makes something click in your brain.
For the first time in your life, you think youâre starting to see Heeseung exactly for who he is.
You donât notice the way he looks at Sunghoon. Or how he swallows back his pride and comes to terms with what he knows he has to do.
You don't comment when he pulls his hand away from you, you just assume it's because he wants to be able to properly eat his food.
When brunch is over, you say your goodbyes to everyone with a pep in your step. You know that telling Heeseung how youâre feeling might complicate things, but he basically just confessed that he remembered things you did in kindergarten. You donât remember that kind of stuff unless it means something, right?
âIâll walk you back to your dorm?â He murmurs next to you, and you nod.
âIâd like that.â
Thereâs tension in the air as you walk, one that youâre practically dying to address. But Heeseung doesnât look like he did in the diner. He looks conflicted, scaredâhe keeps his eyes ahead and his hands shoved into his pockets. Nothing like the bright boy youâd been sitting next to barely an hour ago.
âAre you okay?â You ask, voice soft.
He doesnât even glance at you. âIâm fine.â
âThen why do you look like a kicked puppy?â You attempt to joke, but he doesn't laugh. Instead, he pauses on the sidewalk, and you barely get a few feet in front of him when you notice heâs stopped.
âWhatâs going on, Heeseung?â You attempt again, reaching for his hand. He pulls it back so sharply you nearly flinch.
âI thinkâŠI think we need to stop.â He says finally.
Your heart drops. âWhat? Why? Did IâDid I do something to make you uncomfortable?"
âNo, no, itâs notââ He runs a shaky hand through his hair, âfuck, itâs not you.â
You raise a brow. Heâs not making any sense. He wants to stop now? After what he said in the diner? âThen what is it?â You snap.
He shakes his head like the words are too painful to speak. âYou like Sunghoon, [Y/N], and heâs going to break up with Chaewon soon. I got the pictures I needed for the competition. Thereâs no reason to drag this on any longer than we already have.â
His words shouldnât feel like a breakup, but they do. God, they do. They feel like heâs pulling away from you after youâve finally come to terms with what you feel for him. âWhat about what you said in the diner?â You ask finally, voice breaking. âI canât just act like that didnât happen, Heeseung. Not when Iâm finallyâIâm finallyâŠâ The words get caught in your throat, but you both know exactly what you mean by them.
His hands squeeze into fists at his side. âThat didnât mean anything, [Y/N].â he says lowly, like breaking your heart is something he does daily. Maybe it was and you just never noticed before. âIt was just helping the act. Keeping up the lie. Thatâs all.â
Tears come to your waterline, the back of your throat beginning to ache from the force of it. âYou donât mean that.â
âI do,â he says firmly, but you can see the way his eyes are beginning to turn glassy. âI really do.â
He turns on his heel then, leaving you alone on the sidewalk and turning his back onto whatever fucked up thing it is youâve built together.Â
Your mother used to say that hate and love were synonymous. You know now that she was wrong.
Because what you feel for Lee Heeseung has nothing to do with love, and everything to do with pure, unadulterated hate.
Your phone chimes, and when you check the notification, what you see doesn't make you feel good. It doesn't bring joy to your heart or make you want to skip down the street. Instead, it makes your heart break a little bit more.
Yunjin: Sunghoon just broke up with Chaewon. Weâre so in
You should be happy. This is exactly what you wanted, right?
So why do you feel like you just lost the one thing that mattered the most?
You havenât talked to Heeseung in three weeks. He transferred out of your shared classâsomething you didnât even know was possible this late into the semesterâand stopped showing up to any group hangouts. Not that you care, obviously.Â
The both of you said your breakup was mutual. That the stress of school and work just didnât make a relationship possible, but there werenât any hard feelings. Jake had raised a brow at the entire thing, but ultimately accepted it without a word.
But, Sunghoon seeing the both of you being single at the same time again, decided that meant he could shoot his shot. Which is goodâit was the entire point of this entire thing, right?
Sunghoon is nice. He holds the door open for you and he pays for your meals and he takes you back to that coffee shop the both of you loved so much.
He is perfect for you in every sense.
But when he sits next to you, you donât feel that same spark low in your belly. When he makes a joke, you donât laugh until you swear youâre going to run out of oxygen. He doesnât look at you like you mean something to him.
Yunjin's not dumb, she knows something's wrong. Just a few months ago you wouldâve been ecstatic at the idea of going on dates with Sunghoon, so why do you seem like you couldnât care less about him now?
âAre you okay?â She asks, voice filled with concern. âYouâve beenâŠdistant.â
âIâm fine,â you answer a bit too quickly. âWhy wouldnât I be?â
âI don't know, why donât you tell me?â
You blink, turning to look at her in your mirror. Youâre in the middle of getting ready for you and Sunghoons third date. He told you to dress nicely for dinner, but all you can think about is the fact that Heeseung would be presenting his pictures for the contest tonight. You didnât even get to see them, which is more annoying than anything else.
âI donât know what youâre talking about, Yunjin.â You lie.
She sighs, crossing her arms over her chest and making her way over to you. She smooths down the hem of your skirt without a second thought. âFine. You donât have to tell me but, if itâs because of Heeseungââ
âItâs not.â
ââIf itâs because of Heeseung, then Iâd understand.â
You freeze, eyes snapping to hers. You never told her about the last conversation youâd had with Heeseung, because you figured there wasnât really any point. Heâd âbroken upâ with you, and that was that. It doesn't mean anything else.
You want Sunghoon. You know you do. Itâs the entire reason you and Heeseung came up with that stupid plan in the first place. You arenât going to throw away a good guy because youâd gotten confused.
âItâs not,â you lie again, âIâm just stressed with finals and stuff. Thatâs all.â
Yunjin obviously doesnât believe you. You donât blame her, of course. Youâve always been an awful liar.
She doesnât say anything for a moment, and youâre already dreading what sheâs going to say. Every time Yunjin goes silent, it always means sheâs going to say something that you probably donât want to hear.Â
âYou know,â she starts, voice soft and low, âIâve never seen you look at anyone the way you looked at him.â
You freeze, a shiver rushing down your spine like ice cold water. âWhat?â
âI just meanââ She backtracks for a moment before deciding to just say it, âyou never look at Sunghoon the way you looked at Heeseung. You lookedâŠhappy with him. Like, actually happy. Not just because you thought you were supposed to be, but because you actually felt it.â
You go silent at that. You were happy. Even if you hadnât wanted to admit itâeven if you were fighting it for whatever reason. âIâm happy with Sunghoon.â You say with finality, but you both hear how your voice shakes.
âIf you say so,â she sighs, turning back and sitting at her desk. âWhatâre you guys doing tonight?â
Youâre grateful for the change in topic. âHeâs taking me to dinner,â you shrug, clipping on your earrings. âSomewhere fancy, I guess.â
She hums. âDo you think heâs going to kiss you tonight?â
God, I really, really hope not.
âI hope so,â you answer instead. Maybe kissing Sunghoon will be exactly what you need to get your mind off of him. âI think Iâve waited long enough.â You laugh, but itâs weak. Dishonest.
Yunjin frowns at the sound of it, but she doesnât push. âYeah,â she mumbles, âme too.â
Sunghoon arrives at five on the dot. Just like he said he would. You shouldâve been watching the clock because you were excited for him to get here, but instead all you could think about every time you glanced at it was how nervous Heeseung must be right now. The contest starts at seven, which means he finds out in the next two hours if he wins the money. Your hand twitches at your side. You want to text him and say good luck, but you donât.Â
âYou look beautiful,â Sunghoon says. Heâs all dark hair and dark eyes, not a single hair out of place. His suit looks expensive, and you wonder if he bought it just for the occasion. That definitely feels like something he would do.
âThank you,â you respond, hoping he doesnât see how fake your smile is. âYou clean up pretty nicely as well.â
âI try,â he jokes, outstretching his arm for you. You take it easily, but it doesnât feel right in your palm. Itâs sturdy, easy. But, it doesnât have any of that fire that you think it should.
Sunghoon is a gentleman the entire night. He takes you to eat, makes corny jokes, kisses your knuckles with pink cheeks. And itâs good. Itâs so, so good. Itâs exactly what youâve always wanted.
But when you close your eyes, itâs not Sunghoon you see.
Itâs dirty blonde hair covered by some ratty baseball cap. Itâs that fucking teasing smile that you used to hate seeing. Itâs watching him grow up and having him remember things about you that youâd completely forgotten about.
Itâs him. Heeseung.
Sunghoon leads you to your front door nervously, his eyes searching yours like heâs trying to get some kind of read on you. You wonder if he can see that your heart isnât hereâthat it never was.
âI had a good time tonight,â he says, lips curling up into a soft smile. âI hope it was the same for you.â
âIâŠâ Your words catch in your throat. You know what the logical thing would be to do right now. Accept his compliments, kiss him sweetly, go into your room giddy and wait for him to text you. But itâs wrong. Itâs so, so wrong.
âSunghoon,â you start, eyes filling with tears. âIâm so fucking sorry.â
Heâs silent for a split second, like heâs trying to process your words. âWhy?â He asks, âDid something happen? Did IâDid I do something?â
God, you wish he had. That would make this entire thing so much easier.Â
âNo,â you laugh wetly, âItâs not you. Itâsâitâs me.â You know itâs cliche, but it's true. Because while you shouldâve been enjoying him tonight, all you could think about was Heeseung. About the way heâd kissed you at the party. About how he always looked at you like there was more he wanted to say but he just never knew how.
Sunghoon blinks, his eyebrows knitting together and creasing his forehead. âWhat?â
âYouâre perfect, Sunghoon.â you start, the words flowing out of you like youâre finally admitting them to yourself. âAnd for a long time, you were everything I ever wanted. You went to the cafe with me. You invited me to your games. I thoughtâI thought that Iâd finally found the person I was meant to be with.â
âIâI donât understand,â he murmurs, âIs that not how you feel anymore?â
Your heart constricts as you shake your head. âI wanted to. I really, really tried to remind myself of how I felt for you before. ButâŠâ
It takes him a second, but you see the exact moment recognition flashes across his face. He takes a step back from you, lips falling into a straight line. âBut Iâm not him.â
You canât help the sob that rips from your throat. âIâm so sorry, Sunghoon.â
You half expect him to yell, maybe flip you off and drive off in his Porsche while he gets Chaewon on speed dial. But he doesnât. He stands there for a long moment, breathing slowly, tongue poking the inside of his cheek every now and then.
And then he looks up at you, at the tears staining your cheeks, at how the honesty ripped out of you like a force of nature. He checks his watchâ6:50 pm. Ten minutes before the contest starts.
âCome on,â he says, already jogging to the driver's seat.
Youâre frozen, watching him with wide eyes. Did he not hear what you just said? âSunghoonââ
He gives you a look so sharp it nearly steals the breath from your lungs. âWeâve got ten minutes to make it to that contest, and unfortunately, Iâm not very big on breaking traffic laws. So, hurry up and get in!â
You gawk at him, a smile curling onto your lips, but you run into his car, nevertheless.
He was right, heâs not big on breaking traffic laws. But you see heâs going five over the speed limit compared to his usual three, and that feels like it counts for something. Even though youâd been leading him on for the past three weeks, heâs still trying to make sure youâre happy. Heâs still looking out for you.Â
âThank you,â you sniffle. And you truly mean it.
His gaze stays glued to the road. "Don't mention it.â
You arrive at the photography center with two minutes to spare. Sunghoon doesn't even let you say bye, just rushes you out of the car and wishes you good luck. You donât look back as you run inside.
Youâre thankful you at least dressed nicely for the date, because everyone in here looks like they come from money. Women in floorlength gowns, men in suits youâre sure cost more than your entire tuition. These must be the donors.
The hall is filled with pictures, some simpleâsome you think you have to be involved in the community to understand. But even as you practically sprint down the hallway, Heeseung is nowhere to be found.
âPlease make your way to the dining hall as the photography committee prepares to announce the winner of this year's $100,000 grant!â A voice rings from the intercom, and you blindly follow the crowd into the large room parallel to the hall.
Itâs filled with tables, and thereâs a stage right at the front of the room with a podium and a giant projector. Thereâs nothing on it yet, but youâre assuming thatâs where theyâll show the winning portfolio.
The tables all have name cards, so you do your best to conspicuously make your way to the back where nobody will notice you standing awkwardly. Plus, from back here itâll be easier to try and find Heeseung.
You study the crowd, looking for the familiar head of blonde hair, but you come up empty. For a second, you wonder if heâs even here. He has to be here, you think. This is everything to him.
But every time someone new walks in, itâs never him.
You rock back and forth on your feet, a nervous habit. Pretty soon all the chairs are filled out and Heeseung is still nowhere to be seen. You wonder if heâd dropped out of the contest, but that still wouldnât make any sense. Why would he drop out when photography was so important to him?
You reach for your phone, half tempted to call him and ask where the hell he was, but the lights dim and the president of the photography committee walks up the podium. Sheâs an older woman, with pin straight grey hair and huge glasses. She has to pull down the microphone to match her height. Heeseung used to joke that even though she looked like she belonged in a Disney movie, she was the toughest mentor heâd ever had.Â
âThank you all for coming tonight,â she starts, voice light. âWe had many great admissions this year. All of which I personally took the time to look through, and let me tell you, there was some tough competition. I almost threw up my hands and gave the money to everyone!âÂ
The crowd laughs at that, but you can tell itâs just them being polite. âBut, unfortunately, we canât do that. So, after many sleepless nights and lots of talks with the committee, I was able to come to a decision. This year's winner is someone I think has put in more effort into his photos than anyone else Iâve ever had the pleasure of working with. Heâs not naturally talented, no, but heâs dedicated. He takes risks. He tries new things and doesnât shy away when they donât work.â
The projector begins to come to life. âAs you know, this year's theme was muse. The participants were meant to find a singular person and put together a portfolio of said person.â
The first photo flashes against the screenâand your breath catches in your throat. It's you. But itâs not the ones from the park, no, itâs you in class. Your pencil is in between your lips; brows scrunched together the way they always are when you get frustrated. Youâre not wearing any makeupâhell, you look like you just rolled out of bed!
Your breath catches as the photos continue. Some of you in class, in the diner, at that God forsaken party. All pictures that look old and new at the same time. You can tell some are from after this entire mess started, when you and Heeseung started to actually enjoy each other's presence. You look happier in those ones.
But thereâs some from before tooâwhen the only times you ever thought about Heeseung were when you were thinking about how much you canât stand him. Those ones are mostly you in class, all of them shot from the same angle. Thereâs a few of you from group hangouts, and you wonder how you never noticed him taking them. Maybe itâs because youâre just so used to seeing him with his camera that you stopped noticing it entirely.
Itâs the last photo that really gets you though. Itâs from the park, youâre sitting in the grass, head tilted to the side, lips curling up into a soft smile. Youâre looking into the cameraâor, behind it actuallyâdirectly at Heeseung, and the look in your eyes is enough to knock the breath from your lungs.
You look like youâre in love.
âThis year's winnerâthough I doubt anyone's surprisedâIs Lee Heeseung!â
You barely register her words, because all you can see is Heeseung walking up onto the stage. So thatâs where he was, you think.
Heâs wearing a suit, though it doesnât look nearly as nice as everyone else's here. His dirty blonde hair is actually styled for once, and his lips are curled up into a small smile. But itâs not the one youâre used to seeing. It doesnât quite reach his eyes, doesnât make his face light up like it usually does. Despite winning, he looks almost sad.
He gives a small bow at the podium, shaking hands with the Committee President. He looks nervous as he comes up to the mic, and you squeeze your hands together. Does he want you here? Should you try and make your presence known?
You are the girl in his photos, after all.
âWow,â he starts, voice shaking slightly. âThis isâŠan honor. Really. I didnât go into this contest thinking I would win. In fact, I wasnât going to enter at all. Not until I realized Iâd already accidentally found my muse.â He laughs then, but itâs short. âI entered for selfish reasons. Not for the money. Not so that I could get my photos in international shows. But, because I wanted an excuse to get closer to her.â
His eyes scan the crowd, until finally, they land on you. His eyes widen for a moment, lips parting in shock. For a moment, you think he wants you to leave. You wouldnât blame him if he did.
But he smiles. Really smiles. âNone of this wouldâve been possible without her.â He continues now, voice more confident. âThese photos wouldâve sat tucked away in my camera forever. But she made me confident. She reminded me of why I love photography in the first place. So, Iâm dedicating this grant to her. To my muse.â His eyes find yours again. âMy [Y/N].â
You donât get a chance to go up to Heeseung until after all of the sponsors have congratulated him, which admittedly takes a lot longer than you think either of you would like.
You can see him on stage, shaking hands with people who you assume must be important. He never keeps his eyes on them for too long. Instead, they trail over to you, like heâs hoping heâll be able to communicate with you through eye contact.
By the time you can actually speak to him, the hall is mostly empty aside from a few stragglers. He approaches you with caution, like heâs scared of getting too close.
âHi,â he breathes, stopping a few feet in front of you.
âHi,â you say back.
The air is softer than it had been the last time youâd seen him. Then, it was harsh. Like smoke filling into your lungs. Now, it feels like a breath of fresh air.
Youâre both silent for a moment, like youâre unsure of what to say to each other.
âI broke it off with Sunghoon,â you say eventually, eyes falling to the floor.Â
He blinks. âYou did?â
âI did.â
âOkay.â
More silence.
âYou took pictures of me,â you observe.
âI did.â
âWhy?â
He laughs, a full hearty sound, like heâs caught off guard by the question. You donât know why he would be. You think itâs a perfectly fair thing to ask.
He shrugs, âI felt inspired by you.â
You raise a brow at that. âInspired? By whatâme chewing my pencil like a child?â
He grins, shoving his hands into his pockets. âNo. I was inspired by how I felt when I looked at you.â
That makes you pause. âWhat?â
He fiddles with the corner of his pocket, thumb grazing it once before darting away. He sucks in a deep breath, and then finally, he says everything you know heâs been holding back.
âIâve been in love with you since we were six years old,â he starts. âEver since I watched you stay up the entire nap time because Jungwon couldnât fall asleep. I knew right then and there that I loved you and that I was going to continue to love you for as long as I knew you.â
You canât help the way your eyes go glassy, heart thumping a million miles an hour in your chest. âHeeseungâŠâ
He doesnât let you finish. âBut I was shyâwell, scared is more like itâI was scared that you werenât going to want to be my friend and I would never be able to be around you.â
âWhy would you think that?âÂ
He shrugs, âwhy does a third grader think anything?â
You donât have a reply for that.
He sighs before continuing. âAfter that it justâŠbecame a thing. Our thing. I annoyed you and therefore I got to keep being in your life. Even if it wasn't what I wanted, I figured it was better than not being around you at all.â He swallows, tongue darting out to wet his lips. âBut then we got to university and you met Sunghoon and I felt you slipping away from me, and I didnât know what to do with that. I thought that maybeâŠmaybe it was time for me to let you go.â
Your heart cracks at the strain in his voice, like heâs recalling a bad memory.
âSo, Iâm sure you can imagine my surprise when Jake came home and started asking me a million questions about our apparent relationship.âÂ
âOh, God,â you laugh, shaking your head at the memory. At the time, itâd genuinely felt like the end of the world. Now, you really canât imagine where your life would be without Yunjin's lie.
For starters, he probably wouldâve never told you this, and you wouldâve gone your entire life chopping up your relationship to nothing but a high school rivalry that didnât have any deeper meaning. You wouldâve never found out he felt this wayâor that you feel the way you do.
âIt was good,â he starts again, âpretending. Even though it wasnât really pretending for me. And then we went to that diner and I justâŠI got scared. I didnât want to hold you back from what you really wanted. I thought, sheâs hated me for years, at least now sheâll have an actual reason. And I wanted to be okay with that. I really did.â He takes a step closer. âBut now youâre here. And I think I know why, but Iâm getting tired of assuming things, princess. So, I think youâll have to tell me.â
You suck in a shaky breath, your own hands fiddling with the hem of your dress nervously. âIâŠtried. With Sunghoon. I thought it was what I wanted, the easiness of it all. He was kind and he made bad jokes and I thought I was content with that.âÂ
You roll your eyes, âBut then you happened.â You say it like itâs an insult, but you both know itâs not. âAnd every time I was with him all I could think was how his car didnât have that mysterious dent in the front. How he didnât let me play pop music and pretend he wasnât singing along when we both knew he was. How he didn't make me feel like I actually meant something to him.âÂ
Your eyes find his for the first time since he approached you tonight. âAll I could think about was how he wasnât you.â
For a brief second, the only noise between the two of you is your breathing and the faint hum of people around you. Heeseung's lips part, his Adam's apple bobbing as he takes in your confession. Heâs silent for so long you nearly think you overstepped.
But then heâs taking a step towards you and cradling your jaw with his hand. You donât move away.
âIâm going to kiss you now, okay?â He says, and the familiarity of his words brings a smile to your face.
âOkay. I trust you.â
And then his lips are on yours.
This kiss is different from the first one. Itâs not hungry, not a performance for anyone else. This kiss is solely for you, for the love youâve found and never plan on losing. It tastes like him and feels exactly like coming home.
His thumb rubs the apple of your cheek, his lips moving against yours slowly. He doesnât use tongue, but you donât need him to.
When you finally pull away, he rests his forehead against yours and brings his hands down to your waist. They feel heavy against you, like a claim you never knew you needed.
âIâve wanted to do that for so long,â he murmurs.
You giggle, bringing your own arms up to wrap around his neck. âHave you?â
âYeah,â he responds, âalong withâŠother things.â
You raise a brow at that, âyeah? Like what?â
Thatâs exactly how you end up back at his apartment, his lips moving against yours like heâs trying to memorize your body with them. Jake and Sunghoon are out thankfully, which means youâve got the entire apartment to yourself.Â
Heeseung leads you blindly to his room, never once turning away from you or attempting to look where heâs going. You laugh as he trips over the carpet, but he swallows it with his mouth on yours.
âYouâre so beautiful,â he says against you. You donât even notice youâve made it into your bedroom before your legs hit the mattress and suddenly, heâs pulling you down onto it. âBeen waiting so long to have you like this.â
âYeah?â You manage to say, your voice airy. âShow me, then.â
He pulls back for a moment, eyes looking directly into yours, and then heâs moving his lips to your neck. He leaves wet kisses down the column of your throat, your shoulder, sucking marks into the delicate skin of your collarbone.Â
His teeth graze a particular spot at your neck that makes you gasp, and he processes the noise with a slight groan of his own. He bites down on the spotânot hard, just enough for your back to arch and your fingers to find purchase in his hair. Your legs wrap around his waist as his tongue shoots out to soothe the bite.
Slowly, he brings a hand up to the strap of your dress, his fingers slipping under it but never pulling down.
âHee,â you practically whine, âplease.â
He grins, and then he pulls the strap down ever so slowly. You know heâs teasing you, and the thought makes heat pool between your legs.
Once the dress is off, he throws it to the side and sits back on his heels so he can stare at you. You still have your underwear and bra on, but the sight of your bare stomach and legs is enough for him to let out a low whistle.
âYouâre so beautiful, princess,â he murmurs. The sincerity in his voice makes your cheeks hot. âSo fucking perfect.â
Your lips part to respond, but he leans down and kisses you again. This kiss is different from all the others. Itâs messy and deep and pulls noises out of you that you werenât even aware you could make.
He sucks on your bottom lip once, and then he pulls away and leaves kisses all down your body. Down your neck, your cloth-covered breasts, your stomach, all the way down until he leaves one final kiss at your ankle.Â
He seats himself at the edge of the bed and ever-so-gently pulls you down so your legs hang over the edge of the bed and your cunt is level with his face. He stares at it for a long moment, at the wet patch growing on the lace. At your pretty white panties.
Your hands fist the sheets, legs nearly closing on instinct, but he just pushes them over his shoulders and keeps you open for him. âDonât hide from me,â he mumbles. His hand slowly trails up your thigh until it finds the edge of your underwear.
He keeps it there for what feels like forever. Never touching. Just looking.Â
âPlease,â you whimper, âplease touch me.â
He grins, âyeah? Want my mouth on you, baby?â
You nod, hips rolling against nothing. âYes, fuck, please.â
That seems to finally break him, because he licks one large stripe up your cunt through your underwear. You gasp at the feeling, your back arching slightly.
He continues licking small kitten-licks over your panties, and the mixture of his saliva and your arousal begins to turn the cloth nearly translucent.
He groans like the taste of you is his favorite meal. âYou taste so good,â he murmurs against you, âlike heaven.â
You bite your lower lip to keep yourself from crying out when his tongue catches your clit, and then he brings his hands up to your waist and pulls your underwear down your legs. You donât miss the way he stares at them for a second before letting them drop to the floor.
He spits on your cunt, watching the way his saliva drips down your slit before he sucks your clit into his mouth.
You cry out at the feeling, your toes curling at his back. He groans at the taste and brings his hands up to your hips, gripping them and keeping them still.
âFuck,â you moan when he brings his tongue down to your hole, collecting the arousal there like it's his own personal ambrosia.
âAll this is for me, right?â He questions, trailing a hand down and rubbing his thumb against your clit. The feeling has your head spinning. âNot for Sunghoon, all for me, isnât that right, princess?â
You nod feverishly, his possessiveness nearly enough to make you finish right there and then. âYours! âS all yours.â
He smirks, âthatâs a good girl.âÂ
And then he brings a finger to your entrance, circling over it once before letting it slip inside the ring of muscle. The air punches from your lungs at the feeling, but then he sucks your clit into his mouth again while his finger thrusts into you and you really think youâre going to start seeing stars.
âHeeâHeeseung,â you cry, âfuck!â
He hums but doesnât stop. Instead, he pushes a second finger inside and begins to curl them upwards. You feel him hit that spongey spot inside of you and you know youâre done for.
âIâm closeâfuck,â
He doesnât work you harder, just keeps going at the pace so he can drag out your orgasm for as long as possible. âCome on, baby, cum for me. Show me just how bad you want it.â
Thatâs all it takes for you to release all over his face and hand. Your muscles tighten and relax over and over again, back arching and vision going white. He groans and licks up every drop, working you through it without a complaint.
You expect him to stop now that youâve finished, but he doesnât. If anything, he goes harder. The overstimulation begins to border on the edge of too much, and your hips buck up without your permission.
âFuck, too much, I cantââ
He doesnât let up. âYeah, you can. Come on, wanna see you fall apart for me all over again.â
It doesnât take long for your second orgasm to crash over you, and this one nearly leaves your body feeling limp and your pulse to blare against your ears.
Your body is still twitching from aftershocks when he climbs up next to you, and you watch with blurry vision as he brings his fingers up to his mouth and licks them clean. He hums at the taste and then brings his hands to the hem of his shirt and slips it off.
Your eyes trail over the sight of his bare chest, noting every ridge of muscle and mole, watching the way his chest heaves slightly. Heâs absolutely beautiful, like a painting youâd find at some stupidly expensive art show.
âYouâre beautiful,â you murmur.
Now itâs his turn to blush. His ears and cheeks turn a slight shade of pink, but he brings his lips down to yours before you can tease him for it.
Before you know it, his underwear is off and heâs lining himself up with your entrance. He looks up to you for permission, and you nod at him.
Pressure blooms between your legs as he pushes in, but it isnât exactly painful. It just feels like something you never knew you needed. Like he was made exactly for you.
You keen, back bowing off the bed and eyebrows knitting together. He brings a hand up to cup your cheek and rests his forehead against yours as he finally bottoms out.
You can feel him kissing your g-spot, and he experimentally rolls his hips against yours once. You both groan at the feeling of you tightening around him, and then he pulls out slightly and snaps back in.
You cry out, your nails raking down his back. He hisses slightly at the sting but doesnât make any moves to stop you. Instead, he begins to rock onto you like his life depends on it. You can feel every ridge of his cock; can feel the way it curves at just the right angle.Â
âYou feel so fucking good,â he gasps, âso perfect. Always knew you would.â
He buries his face into your neck, his hips snapping against yours like his life depends on it.Â
You feel yourself getting close, but before you can warn him your back is arching and you're finishing against him.
He cries out, his thrusts beginning to turn sloppy. âFuck, fuck, Iâmââ He finishes inside you without another word, painting your insides with his cum.Â
You both lay there for a moment, trying to catch your breath. He pulls out of you with a low breath and then reaches over for something at his nightstand to clean you up silently.
You watch him as he does, noting the way he cleans up your thighs with so much care. He doesnât rush the aftercare process either, he kisses your skin gently and murmurs sweet words against you.
By the time your thighs stop shaking and you actually feel like you can breathe without your chest caving in, heâs laying down beside you and pulling you against his chest.
You lay there for a moment, feeling the way his chest rises and falls against your back. The warmth from his skin.
âHeeseung?â You mumble.
âHm?â
You blink, a smile curling onto your lips. âI love you.â
He doesnât even hesitate. âI love you, too.â
And for once, you know that you both mean it.
Your mother used to say that hate was just another word for love. And right now, you know that she was right. Because what you feel for Lee Heeseung used to have everything to do with hate, but now you know it was really just another word for love.