☁️ @cloudedteacups - Tumblr Blog

— futile devices

chapter 2: futile devices (doveman remix) by sufjan stevens

pairing – idol ! keonho x f ! reader

tags – idol au, strangers to ??? to lovers to ???, deep talks (my beloved), angst, emotional turmoil, reader canonically has curly hair & glasses if that bugs u, fluff at times, kissing, skinship (but all sfw!)

a meet-cute with a cute boy was not what you had planned at all—at the very least, not anytime soon. but when you chance upon him again on the streets of downtown, one thing led to another, and now you're stuck between your worst nightmares and wildest dreams. exactly how much emotional turmoil would you have if you let this romantic spark catch flame...?

word count – 33.5k 😬

☁️ notes – yasss part 2 of chapter 2 who is excited 🗣️🗣️🗣️ i edited this on sunday but had to rewrite a few scenes HAHA sorry abt the delay 🥹 hope y'all enjoy teeheeeee this one's so fluffy! and angsty! it gave me sm whiplash writing LOLL. WARNING there is how to train your dragon 3 spoilers and talks of a scene from perks of being a wallflower! there's other references sprinkled in there!! lmk if u figure out what keonho's drafts are supposed to sound like LOL i wna see if anyone can figure it out reminder: must read prior parts to understand! 😉💞

masterlist – prev – next

Martin first messaged you in the second week of March on an unknown number.

Unknown [7:49 PM PST] hi is this y/n?

You [7:52 PM PST] uh who is this?

Unknown [7:55 PM PST] this might be very creepy but i promise it’s real but i’m martin, cortis’ leader and keonho’s friend

You [7:56 PM PST] oh how’d u get my number 😭

Unknown [7:56 PM PST] plz don’t tell him but i snooped thru his phone

You [7:57 PM PST] LOL how do will ik this is real and not a set up

Unknown [7:58 PM PST] *insert picture of your photo strip*

You [8:00 PM PST] oh shit ur real

Unknown [8:00 PM PST] yea

You [8:01 PM PST] my bad gng 🤞

Your anxiety eased a fraction, fingers slightly trembling as you saved his number as “martwin”.

martwin [8:02 PM PST] UR GOOD anyways i wanted to ask if u were ever planning to visit keonho here in korea

You [8:03 PM PST] oh uh i was actually planning to go next month LOL to surprise him

martwin [8:05 PM PST] shit that’s so cute

You [8:06 PM PST] yeah LOL i've been working overtime to save up he’s been pretty moody bc we haven’t called in a bit but plz don’t tell him that

martwin [8:07 PM PST] oh yea for the next game caterers x hybe (coming out next week but plz keep it a secret 🤫) he won’t have much screentime bc this kid has been so emo

You [8:08 PM PST] omg i’m so sorry 😭😭

martwin [8:08 PM PST] plz don’t be sorry LOL it’s a him problem

You [8:10 PM PST] 😭

martwin [8:12 PM PST] anyways me and the members wanted to chip in for ur flight n accommodations n whatnot to visit him bc he’s been rly missing u

You [8:13 PM PST] oh i can’t accept

martwin [8:15 PM PST] plz 🙏 to get me out of this MISERY

You [8:15 PM PST] has it rly been that bad? 😭

martwin [8:16 PM PST] yeah the managers hv noticed alrdy

You [8:16 PM PST] shit i’ll talk to him about it

martwin [8:18 PM PST] plz take our offer 🙏 consider it a gift

You sighed to nobody but yourself. Could you really do this? Visiting him had been a frequently brought up hypothetical since the week he left, offered initially by your mother. She also offered to pay as well, as long as you broubght her back whatever skincare or snacks she asked for.

You [8:22 PM PST] only $250 max.

martwin [8:22 PM PST] $3000

You [8:22 PM PST] wtf $300

martwin [8:23 PM PST] $3500

You [8:24 PM PST] $500

martwin [8:25 PM PST] deal i knew all that haggling with thrift sellers was worth it

You [8:26 PM PST] bye 😭 anyways i was actually gonna book this weekend i js need to find a place to stay

martwin [8:26 PM PST] gotcha i’ll send u a good airbnb nearby our dorm msg me ur etrans

You [8:27 PM PST] yessir happy early birthday btw!

martwin [8:28 PM PST] thx :)

You had been planning for your trip ever since. You had found a cheap enough but overall nice AirBnB near their dorms, area courtesy of Martin.

You watched their “Game Caterers X HYBE” video later that week. And Martin was right—Keonho had been much gloomier than usual. He had let his emotions drive him to what seemed like a dark place. But this was the complete opposite of the boy you know. He was bright like sunshine in the summer, smiling and laughing like an innocent kid. He was passionate about his career and was uncontrollable in his jokes like fire left unattended.

But even with you, he was still him, only amplified. That fire burned brighter and got more passionate. Even sitting in stillness felt nice. It felt real. It felt human. And you loved that.

And you had to confess—you missed him too. You miss both your shallow and deep conversations and your adventurous hang outs and casual dates. You missed when life with him felt domestic—when he’d go with you to grocery shop, when he’d pick you up from outings with your friends, and playing with Nerf guns with your brothers whenever he came to your house.

The normal moments were when you missed him the most. Because the weather had gotten warmer with the changing of the seasons, cherry blossoms had begun blooming, the wind became refreshing rather than sharp, and the sky was more sun than clouds. You knew Keonho would take advantage of the weather and ask to play at the park, walk the streets of downtown, or even talk by the pier. And that selfish part of you knew he looked heartwrenchingly handsome under the sun’s golden beams. Who wouldn’t waste an opportunity to stare at your boyfriend where he looked like nature’s very muse?

You missed moments when you could admire him, and it wasn’t through the pixels on your screen.

You missed him. His scent on one of your favourite navy-blue “Drew” hoodie was wearing off, faster than you'd like. The fabric still reminded you of him, but it felt like a part of him was fading alongside the scent.

The boy you met at Blend café had fully intertwined his fingers into your brain and you were entirely unaware that you had even given him permission to do so in the first place. You didn’t realize—or want to admit, maybe—that he had such an effect on you, too.

You went into this relationship with a wall built between the world and your heart. And Keonho had unknowingly found a defect in the corner and climbed in as if it was the easiest thing to do. You kept your distance at first, but you felt your sense of control slipping the more time you spent with him. He crept his way into every crevice of your heart. But that same pit in your stomach bubbled up from where it retreats every once in a while.

It comes back every time you guys haven’t had a proper conversation in a few days. Every time he bails on a planned video call. Every time you see a new CORTIS article pop up on your feed.

Yes, the boy was yours. But simultaneously, he was the world’s. He was idolized and essentially ogled at by many other women and men. You weren’t jealous that other people loved him or found him attractive or simply perceived him. You were just saddened by the fact that he was put in the front for the entertainment and leisure of other people. He wasn’t some thing to be looked at and unraveled. He was Keonho. He deserved to show his true self and be supported wholeheartedly.

It was what rubbed you the wrong way in the beginning. It was what made you hesitate in the first place.

But, really, who could you truly place all the blame on?

He was simply living the consequences of not only his past actions, but of his pursuit of his dreams.

Those walls around your soul were turned from hard, set cobblestone to crumbling sand in a snap of a finger the second he got real with you. You didn’t want to let this stranger into your heart, but here you are now, missing him, a piece of your heart left with an indentation that only fit him.

You missed him after your shifts when your eyes wandered to the door, almost always anticipating him standing there, waiting for you with a soft smile. You missed the late nights in your car every time you drove by the Dairy Queen, remembering the mess of ice cream you both had to clean up every night.

But you’d never go there by yourself. Scared that it’d ruin the sacred memory you had with him. And you’d never tell him of the weight on your chest when he couldn’t call after a particularly difficult shift.

It all worsened that pit in your stomach.

You really didn’t like how this was going.

A small voice in your mind mumbles, grumbling low like a kitchen vent, the likelihood that this was all rushed into too quickly.

You two had only been dating for around a month

Maybe you should have listened to that voice since the beginning.

Because you knew this was a bad idea.

But every time you open your lock screen and see your wallpaper of him, you shake your mind off of the thought.

You liked this boy. You loved this boy. He meant so much more than the distance between you two.

And it wasn’t like he was making things intentionally worse. From what Martin had been telling you, it sounded like he was going through the same thing as you. You were simply two teenagers trying to figure out this whole long distance relationship thing.

But it was killing you. No matter how much you knew you loved him, it still felt… off.

But you knew you had to try.

You had to keep going for this love.

One that was real for the both of you.

The day of your flight came faster than you anticipated.

One day, you had just booked your AirBnB. The next day, you were beginning to plan out your outfits for the trip. And suddenly, you were all packed and spiralling with anxieties the night before your trip.

“You checked in with your AirBnB host?” your mom asked as you paced the kitchen floor.

“Yes.”

“All the dates line up?”

“Yes.”

“You checked in for your flight?”

“Yes.”

“It’s your name, right?”

“Yes!”

“Okay, relax. Martin knows the timeframe of your arrival?”

“Yes.”

“You know how to switch your service for when you get there?”

“Yes.”

“Then you’re all set. Why are you so anxious?”

“I don’t know! It’s kinda my first time travelling. Alone, at that.”

“You’ll be just fine,” she sighed with a small, comforting smile, standing from the kitchen stool and patting your shoulder before heading to her bedroom. You could hear her call out from the open door. “You should be more anxious about how you’re gonna bring all my snacks back!”

You simply chuckled at your mother’s remark. You’d gone over everything you could possibly be anxious about. Bookings, payments, correct traveller’s information, your packing list—every and any thing someone could be worried about. But at the root of it all, you knew you simply wanted everything to go smoothly because you wanted to have the best time with Keonho. And maybe the rest of CORTIS. But you couldn’t wait to reunite with him and tell him of everything that he missed and everything you couldn’t tell him over the phone.

You didn’t necessarily hide the fact that you were visiting him. You simply omitted the fact. You ensured to be as normal as possible, still calling as often as you would and messaging like usual. And he hadn’t said anything out of the blue yet, so truly, he hadn’t figured it out. Unless Martin or one of his members ratted you out. But you’d probably hear of it by now. He couldn’t keep one thing secret when it came to you. It was almost like he needed to empty out his thoughts to you. And you found it endearing, if ever. But at moments, it got annoying. He’d tell you of the stains in his underwear, no matter how many times you insisted he keep those, out of all things, to himself. But he was just a boy after all. Your boy.

You had landed on Korean soil the next day, home only being one day behind. Martin wanted you to go to their dorms right away, but you insisted on at least dropping off your things at your AirBnB. Martin had arranged some sort of car service for you—apparently courtesy of YCC team and HYBE—that would help you travel from your AirBnB to their dorm with strong safety. You easily avoided the main, busy buildings full of fans hoping for a glimpse of their idols. It would probably also help avoid any scandal. That was another thing to be worried about.

You sighed as you dropped your bags off in your apartment. You were actually in South Korea. On the same concrete that Keonho was on. Finally.

You were only staying for a couple of weeks, so you knew you had to make them last. You knew you had to say things you were afraid to say on call. To do things you missed with him.

And this time, you were the tourist. He could show you around the secret places he went to escape to. He could show you the hidden gem stores and restaurants he adored.

You couldn’t wait to see the look on your boyfriend’s face.

But most especially, that first look of shock when you surprise him at his dorm in only an hour’s time.

The driver, whose name you learned was Hwanwoong, picked you up at your AirBnB right on time and drove to their dorms.

“First time in Korea?” he asked from the driver’s seat, words entirely fluent, only a slight accent in his throat.

“No,” you chuckled softly. “I’ve been here before with my family. But that was almost 8 years ago. So much has changed in such a short timeframe.”

“That’s very true. You caught Korea right before 2020. That’s such a great experience. I remember how it was that time. Everyone’s so sad now.”

“I’ve noticed that,” you sighed. You recalled how much Hawai’i had changed last you were there and how much emotion that brought out of you. Your attachment to Korea wasn’t as strong, however, the feeling lingered on your chest, spreading to the base of your throat. “It’s everywhere, really.”

“But it’s good that you’re trying to help a certain someone out of their sadness.”

Your breath hitched and eyes went wide in slight surprise.

“Martin told me,” Hwanwoong laughed as he glanced at you through the mirror.

“Oh,” you breathed shakily, chuckling nervously. “Sorry. I didn’t know he’d… out my relationship.”

“Don’t worry. If you were dating a BTS member, that would be an entirely different conversation.”

“True,” you laughed.

“Take it easy. The YCC team and their staff are very chill. We do our best to create a comfortable and real atmosphere in our work. That also just means we share a lot with each other.”

“I see. It’s nice seeing the authenticity, then,” you said, tension in your shoulders slightly relaxing..

“Right,” he smiled. The car came to a slow stop right in front of a grey building. Boring, normal, and typical for this part of Seoul. You wouldn’t tell that this dorm was housing 5 famous K-pop idols. Your head tilted slightly as you looked at the building through the window.

“How’s the security here?” you asked as he turned off the car.

“Not bad. Big-boss HYBE has a large team of security for them. They alternate every couple of weeks. The technology is also pretty secure. It gets heavier and heavier as you make it deeper into the building,” he replied, shoulder against the seat as he faced the building beside the car.

“Good,” you sighed.

“Somebody in CORTIS or one of the staff team will always have to take you in, though. So, no surprise visits,” he smirked.

You flushed at his words. “Oh. Thanks for the heads up.”

“No worries.” After a few beats, he spoke up again. “Alright. Let’s get you inside.”

The walk towards their dorm was nothing like you expected. Maybe compared to a big artist like BTS or BLACKPINK, you would think that their security measures are tight. But here, everything looked quite… normal. Not that it was a problem. At least they had security measures in place. But it made you feel a bit more at ease. You anticipated the questioning looks of security guards or someone at the front desk quirking an eyebrow every time you entered the building—which would be often during your stay. But every person you saw in the hallways greeted you with a smile and a small bow. Your nerves eased with each step.

“Remember this number,” he said, as you arrived in front of a door with metal 1608 in the middle of it. He knocked on the door and rang the doorbell.

“Thanks, Hwanwoong,” you smiled.

“Of course. See you around!” he beamed, already walking away.

Seonghyeon was the first face you saw as the door opened. You recognized his face from a lecture from Keonho when he was introducing you to each of CORTIS’ members. You were stumped for the first 30 minutes trying to differentiate Seonghyeon and Keonho, his eyes in genuine disbelief when you mixed them both up. But you could tell with Seonghyeon’s broader face shape, distinct nose, and plump lips. He had his hair parted in the middle with the hood of his grey sweater up.

“Hi!” he greeted with a small smile.

Seonghyeon looked so much more unreal in person. You had to confess, if Keonho wasn’t your boyfriend, you would have totally had a fat crush on Seonghyeon. His alluring gaze and dimpled yet charming grin lured you in. Your brain stuttered as your gaze lingered on his face for a beat too long. “Hey,” you finally stuttered out.

“So, you’re the infamous Y/N,” he mused, smirking and tilting his head. “Welcome to Korea! Come in,” he said, opening the door wider for you to enter. “It’s a bit messy in here but we tried to clean up as much as we could.”

“It’s okay. I had brothers growing up, so I’ve probably seen worse,” you chuckled.

“Oh, you haven’t seen 5 teenagers in one dorm kinda messy,” he leaned in a fraction. “Anyways, I’ll introduce you to the rest of the members. Martin went out to distract Keonho, by the way. Just in case you were curious about where he is. They’re buying these Chinese donuts not too far from here.”

You couldn’t help but be drawn to the way he spoke. Soft and gentle, yet with a teasing edge after joking remarks. When you watched CORTIS’ content, you couldn’t help but be intrigued by Seonghyeon. He stuck out to you more than any other member. A cinephile, a reader, an intellectual. If ever, you had a big friend-crush on him.

He led you all the way to the living room where the rest of the members were. “This is James,” he said, pointing at the man with short hair. He looked quite intimidating with his Wasian features and indifferent gaze. But with the way he smiled softly when your eyes met, small dimples on his cheeks appearing, you found him to be quite handsome, nonetheless.

“Hi!” you shyly muttered out an introduction.

“Hey,” he said as he began walking towards you and Seonghyeon. “Nice to finally meet you.”

“And this is Juhoon,” he said, pointing at the taller boy, who was now making his way to the living room.

“Hey. How was the flight?” he asked in fluent English.

“It was alright. Kinda stuffy. But it’s nice here.”

“Good. Now, please fix Keonho,” he joked with a smile.

“I’ll do my best,” you countered with a small chuckle.

“Anyway,” Seonghyeon interrupted. “Could you check his location, James-hyung?”

“Sure,” James said, pulling out his phone.

“They’re getting donuts. We forgot to pick it up earlier with our dinner. But I guess this made for a great excuse to get him out of the house to hide you,” Juhoon added.

Your bottom lip jutted out, impressed with the coincidence.

“They’re on their way back now,” James said, fingers zooming in and zooming out on his phone.

“Shit,” you cursed.

“It’s okay. You can hide in his room. So that when all his tears come out, it’s in private. I’ve seen him cry enough,” Seonghyeon said with a small sigh.

“Yeah,” James added.

“Too many times,” Juhoon said, eyes zoning out slightly.

“Dang… is it really that bad?” you asked.

“Yeah. He misses you a lot,” Seonghyeon replied. You pouted at the thought.

James interrupted the silence. “They’re almost here.”

“Shit, okay. Where’s his room?” you shakily breathed.

“This way,” Seonghyeon said, already walking towards the hallway.

“Here you go,” he said, opening the last door.

“Thanks,” you muttered. You could feel the sweat in your armpits dampen your shirt.

“Just come out whenever you two are ready. We ordered jajjangmyeon for dinner. Hope you like it.”

You only nodded in reply, your nerves on edge. He closed his door on his way back towards the hallway, leaving you alone in Keonho’s room.

His room was dark—curtains pulled all the way shut. The first thing you did in his room was open them, finally letting fresh light in. Dust particles flew into the air, sparkling like snow, after opening his blinds. You frowned at the thought of him rarely opening them. It worried you slightly.

Keonho’s room wasn’t bare, but it was a teenager’s. Clothes were scattered all over his floor. You couldn’t even tell if they were clean or dirty. There were no distinct piles, simply garments thrown onto the ground. You sighed, in both annoyance and fondness, as you thought of your boyfriend’s negligence in his room’s cleanliness. His walls were decorated with a few posters. A few Radiohead ones, a Weezer one, a random grunge band you had never heard of, and one of CORTIS. He even had an “OK Computer” Radiohead vinyl on his bedside table. You recalled how Martin had gifted it to Keonho, details of the conversation and unboxing vivid as the memories of that call came flooding back. The thought made something warm bloom in your heart.

You went to sit on the edge of his bed, dipping slightly with your weight. It was made—thank God—and smelled exactly like him. You took a long breath in, finally smelling his scent. It overwhelmed your senses, head going fuzzy at the realization that this was all real. No longer a figment of your imagination. You couldn’t wait to bring home many hoodies that smelt exactly like this.

“He’s almost here!” you heard James yell through the walls.

Shit. Keonho was almost here. Did you look good? You opened your phone’s camera, fixing your hair, putting on lip balm, anything to make sure you were presentable. Your leg began jumping in anxiety, anticipating when he opened the door and saw you for the first time in a while. What do you even say? I’m here! Welcome back! I missed you! I brought your favourite hoodie back! Or, well, mine. It all felt stupid as you said it in your mind.

You took a long breath in and out, closing your eyes as you focused on the air on your skin and his scent in your nose. It calmed your nerves slightly.

You gazed at the wall near where his pillow was, assumedly where he laid his head every night. It had your guys’ pictures there. A printed selfie of you that you had sent before you went out with your friends. He freaked out, spamming you in your texts when you first sent it. He was so cute about it, even going as far as asking for your permission to save it. There was another photo beside it, one of you in bed with a pout. You sent that one when you said you missed him a lot that day.

There were a few other photos of his family, his dog, and some friends on the wall. But in the centre of it all was your photo strip that you took at Metrotown. Stupid poses that you still laugh at to this day. It was your favourite photo strip of all time. You also had yours right by your bed, a constant reminder that he existed before you slept and as soon as you woke up.

The thought that he’d intentionally placed these photos in a particular way brought a warm, fuzzy feeling to your chest. You missed this sentimental part of him.

You heard the door close from the outside. Conversation between a few people were mumbled through the walls.

You could feel your heart vibrate in your ears, going a hundred miles a minute. Your heartbeat was so fast, you’d think that you just ran a 10-kilometre race. And won. Adrenaline was rushing through your veins, anxious as to what your boyfriend’s reaction could be.

As soon as you saw the door handle twist, you shot up. You looked back and forth between the bed and the door as it opened, slightly unsure of whether you should sit or stand. You quickly landed on standing somewhere near the edge of his bed. You put on a soft smile on your face, hopefully masking any anxiety that might be written all over it.

As he opened it, he froze, his phone in hand, stuck in mid air as he was about to place it against his ear as he did a double take in your direction. Your phone’s ringtone resonated throughout his room, the one that you had changed to a specific tune to distinguish when a particular person was calling.

Time seemed to have stopped for the both of you again.

He stood there, frozen in time, blinking slowly, like with each blink, he was proving that you were actually there with him. No longer something of his wildest dreams.

The world went silent, save for your phone softly ringing in your pocket. You also stopped your movements. Your words died on your tongue, throat closed up as your gaze lingered on the boy in front of you.

He had gotten much handsomer. He seemed to have grown up a fraction—jawline sharper, eyebrows more defined, yet eyes still youthful and shimmering. He seemed to have come from practice beforehand, a slight sheen of sweat glimmering on his skin, glistening in his room’s warm light. Some of his hair stuck onto his forehead in an unusually attractive way. His cheeks were flushed red from his practice, but it reminded you of what Keonho looked like when you first met him. He wore a plain black tee, slightly clinging to his body, and grey sweatpants that further accentuated his fit form.

Tears were beginning to well in your eyes, vision slightly going blurry at the sight of him. “Hi, my lovely boy,” you smiled, finally breaking the silence.

He uttered your name. He blinked, voice slightly cracking, as he walked towards you. He set his phone down as his hands went to hover over your shoulders, jaw, and waist, hands shaking and refusing to finally touch you as if he still couldn’t quite believe you were there.

“Keonho,” you breathed, a tear finally slipping from your clutches. He had his own set of tears now, streaming in a beautifully cruel way down his face. His eyebrows were furrowed together in sadness, face a reflection of his feelings.

“I…” he breathed shakily, hands finally landing on your arm and hip, “…I missed you.”

Before you could utter out a response, the boy collapsed into your arms, head falling to your shoulder. You could feel your shirt dampen with his tears.

“Oh, my poor Keonho,” you cooed as he sobbed into you. Your legs were already shaking from your own emotion, unable to hold up yourself, let alone both of you. “C’mere,” you said, guiding you both to sit on his bed. You wrapped your arms around him as he clutched onto you like a sloth.

You tightened your embrace, fingers clutching against the back of his shirt as you brought him closer to you—to your heart. His shoulders were trembling with emotion, breath uneven on your neck as he tried and failed to find some sort of composure. You could hear his choked sobs muffled into your shirt, which was now notably wet with your boyfriend’s tears.

You had pushed your glasses up to the top of your head, the fog from your tears being too overstimulating. You sniffled as you cooed into his ear. “I missed you too. So much. You don’t even know.” You trembled and stuttered through your own words.

He perked up from where he found refuge in your neck to lean into his palms, eyes and nose red from his crying, as he wiped his face with his arm. You sat up yourself and couldn’t help but reach out and cup his cheek with your palm. Your heart stuttered and warmed as he relaxed into your touch, leaning further into your palm as if cherishing your love. “You’re really here,” he breathed, eyes remained closed as tears continued to flow down his face.

“Yes, I am,” you muttered softly.

He sighed, stretched and drawn out, then took a deep breath in, slightly trembling from all of his crying. “You’re really here,” he repeated, the sound coming from his throat, confidence slowly seeping into his tone.

“Yes, silly. Is this all not enough confirmation for you?” you giggled.

“Ugh. I missed you so much,” he sighed shakily, returning his head back to the crevice in your neck where you felt like he belonged.

“I know,” you replied, bringing your hands to brush your fingers through his hair for the first time in a while.

“I missed this,” he muttered, breathing relaxing now. He intertwined one of your hands with his, gripping tightly, like if he let go even a fraction, you’d escape from his grasp.

“Not too tight,” you softly winced.

“Sorry,” he mumbled as you felt a pout form on his lips by your neck.

“I’m not leaving for a long while, Keonho,” you giggled. You missed this. You missed his voice. You missed his touch. You missed him. You tapped his jaw with a finger.

He perked up, smiling sheepishly in anticipation, breath stuttering as he breathed in. “I haven’t done this in a while. I’m rusty,” he murmured, his eyes darting from your eyes to your lips

“Well, I’d fucking hope so,” you teased with a small smirk forming on your lips. “I haven’t personally kissed anyone that wasn’t you since you left.”

“Hey, I’m not saying that!” he exclaimed in exasperation. “I’m just saying that we haven’t kissed… in a bit. I’m nervous.”

“Then let’s be nervous together,” you said, leaning in with a smile as you finally brought your lips to his, snapping the gentle and vibrating tension in the air.

An ocean roared inside of you. Being here, finally, with him felt like diving into the deep end, letting the water consume you, pressing and pushing onto your bones in such a loving and ardent way.

His kisses were tender, almost chaste like he was scared that if he kissed too hard, he’d snap out from this dream. His lips were soft as they inevitably pressed onto you, gentle like ocean waves in the afternoon. But yours had a touch more passion than his, tears falling down your face from emotion, as you let it all consume you. Your touch was fervent and consuming, like the sea in a storm.

You pushed with hunger, giving into the tension in the air, while he pulled with a soft and sweet love. You were like the waves, and he was like the shore. Pulling and pushing gently against each other.

Tears were warm against your cheeks, your brain too fuddled and fuzzed with his kisses that you weren’t entirely sure if they belonged to you or him. Your fingers trembled where they stayed behind his neck. His body shook slightly with an overwhelm of love.

You weren’t sure who released from this kiss first. You kept your foreheads pressed together, slightly gasping as your breaths intertwined in the small space between you.

You sighed. “I missed you.”

“I missed you more,” he replied, letting your breaths carry the conversation.

After a beat, you gently shattered the intimate stillness. “We should probably head out already. They’re looking for us.”

“No,” he whined.

“Huh?”

“I want to stay here with you,” he said firmly.

“We have all the time together after dinner. And if you’re allowed to, you can stay with me for tonight?” you asked, an unsure tone in your voice as you tested the waters.

“Maybe. I’ll ask. I want to.”

You hummed in reply as you pulled back to look at him properly. “I only offered because I know how clingy you can get,” you giggled.

“Geez, sorry. A man can’t miss his girlfriend and want to be attached to her hip anymore?”

“Maybe not a man…” you trailed on, leaning back onto your palm on his mattress now.

“Hey!”

You only laughed in response, the crinkles by his eyes deepening as he smiled. You missed that.

“Let’s go, Keonho.”

“5 minutes.”

“One minute.”

“10 minutes.”

“3 minutes.”

“Fine.”

You giggled at his reluctant remark. “You’re just like Martin when it comes to haggling. He did the exact same thing when we were talking about me coming here. Same strat and everything,” you chuckled, rubbing sweet shapes into his forearm.

“How do you know that?” he asked, almost taken aback at your words.

“Jealous?”

“Uh, yeah! How come my own friend knew you were coming but not me, your literal boyfriend?”

“Sorry. We just talked about you and my flight and stuff.”

“Did you pay for it?”

“Not really. Your members wanted to pay for it all, but I said no. They ended up paying for almost half of it. I still feel really guilty.”

“Don’t feel guilty. But that’s good. You need to come more often,” he replied firmly.

You two remained together in silence, a soft electricity lingering in the air between you two. His eyes just bore into yours, mouth still open in slight disbelief that you were right in front of him. Sometimes, he’d lean in to place a chaste kiss on your lips then giggle like a little kid afterwards. You would join in his giggling, heart warming at the sight of your adorable boyfriend, cuteness aggression skyrocketing in your chest.

By the time you two came out of your room and into the living room, everyone roared with cheers.

“Fucking finally!” Martin exclaimed.

“We were waiting for like an hour,” said Juhoon.

“Hey! It was more like, 25 minutes, no?” you argued with a slight flush in your cheeks.

“Whatever. Let’s eat. Please. Now,” said James.

“I’m starving,” sighed Seonghyeon.

You took an empty seat as Keonho took the one right next to you. James was the first to get his food and the others followed in suit. Before you could reach your hands towards the serving utensils, Keonho scooped a serving of food for you first.

“Thanks,” you murmured, only loud enough for him to hear.

He simply smiled warmly towards you.

“How’s the jjajangmyeon for you?” Martin asked you.

“Oh!” you exclaimed softly, mid bite. “Not bad. I only tried whatever was given to me back home, so I have no standard. Unlike you guys.”

James hummed. “It’s much better here, I think. The flavour of the black bean stands out more.”

“Huh. I never noticed that,” said Juhoon.

“It’s in the bitterness, hyung,” replied Seonghyeon.

“My bad,” chuckled Juhoon.

“You’d think rich-boy over here would have a sophisticated taste, no?” Martin asked you.

You only shrugged with a soft chuckle as small laughs resonated through the dining room.

“Are we going out later?” asked Seonghyeon.

“For what?” asked Keonho.

“Well. Dessert. Duh.”

“We have ice cream here,” replied James.

“The one you bought too,” murmured Juhoon.

“Geez, gang. Not too much on me.”

“Didn’t you literally beg for us to buy the ice cream for weeks? Complaining about some craving so strong you thought you were pregnant?” asked Martin with an amused smile.

“’Kay. Whatever. Maybe I just wanted something a little different. And offer our guest here something cultured.”

“What’s the ice cream?” you asked.

“Papico,” replied James. “Chocolate only.”

“I love those!” you replied.

Keonho’s chin retracted slightly in surprise. “I didn’t know you had even tried those.”

“They’re so good! My neighbor’s brought it over one time. It had 50% plastic for my first time, though.”

Martin laughed. “You gotta cut it properly.”

You hummed in reply. Juhoon began telling them something in Korean and you continued eating your food.

“You never told me that,” muttered Keonho beside you.

You shrugged in reply. “You never asked.”

A small pout appeared on his lips.

You chuckled softly at him. “They’re Korean. We don’t really talk that much. But they’re nice.”

“What if they were Martin’s relatives?” he asked in genuine curiosity.

You considered it for a moment as you stirred your noodles. “Maybe. You know from where he came from in Canada?”

“Not really,” Keonho shrugged.

“Dude, you made such a mess!” whined James, eyebrows furrowed as he stared at the few noodles on the table which should be in Martin’s bowl.

“I’ll clean it up, don’t worry, hyung,” replied Martin.

“You better,” muttered Seonghyeon.

“Wait. Isn’t it literally your turn to do dishes,” said Martin.

“You made all this mess!” bickered Seonghyeon.

Juhoon’s eyebrows went up in annoyance and amusement.

“Fine! Fine. I’ll help. But you owe me,” replied Martin.

“How the hell do I owe you?” questioned Seonghyeon.

“Because I’m cleaning for you!”

“Bro.”

“You know what? Both of you clean it up. Settle it over basketball on Friday or something,” muttered James.

“Hell yeah. Your ass is beat, Martin.”

“That’s not fair, James!”

James merely shrugged, no emotion in his face. You turned to Keonho beside you as he smiled at the bickering in front of him.

“This normal here?” you asked with a grin.

“Oh, it’s so much worse. Sometimes it’s me and Seonghyeon. Sometimes it’s everyone. It’s so funny to witness and remember,” he said, leaning in slightly. “It’s also just so easy to rage-bait Seonghyeon. It’s a fun game of whoever can get to do it first.”

“Does James ever rage-bait?”

“Oh, yeah. A lot,” he laughed.

“Huh. He doesn’t seem like the type to do that.”

“I pride myself in being the D1 rage-baiter and prankster, but James is a good second.”

You hummed in reply, your heart warming and cheeks laughing from whatever else Seonghyeon and Martin were fighting over now. They seemed so fun to be around. It felt like a real friend group, not just coworkers. They were like a group of friends who wanted to have fun but also do what they loved. Their bond flowed through the air so naturally and their silliness complimented each other so well. And it was honestly a refreshing contrast to the tear-fest you and Keonho had not even an hour before.

Even if it was your first evening with them, something in you warmed up to their goofiness.

Everything felt real.

Authentic.

Later that night, Keonho insisted he take you on a tour to his “hidden-gem food stalls”.

You were already stuffed with the jjajangmyeon from earlier and Seonghyeon’s Papico ice cream. Keonho bought a red bean bungeobbang to share, almost shoving it into your hands, arguing that it’s unlike anywhere else. And he was right, as per usual. Afterward, he brought you to a fishcake skewer stand. Even with your insistence that you hated seafood, Keonho begged for you to at least try it. After a few minutes of adorable pouts and stupid promises, you gave into it and took a cautious small bite. It wasn’t as bad as you had anticipated it to be. You were more fulfilled by the wide grin that was plastered all over your boyfriend’s face. But at this point, your belt was 3 notches looser than when you arrived.

“Just around that corner is my favourite sweet potato stall. They always have it fresh. It’s never too hard or too soggy. Just the perfect in-between. And I think they even grow their own sweet potatoes, too,” he rambled, arms intertwined in the cold alleyways of Seoul.

You simply nodded, even though you knew your stomach could barely handle anything more. “The glaze better be worth it, boy,” you teased. “I’m fucking stuffed.”

“Oh, trust me. It is,” he promised with a wink.

And true enough, as soon as you took a bite, your tongue was met with an incredibly deep flavour and interesting sweetness. “Shit,” you said as you began nodding.

“Good, right?” he said, cheekbones flushed and prominent as he smiled.

“Yeah. Holy smokes, bro. I gotta remember where this is so I can visit it again.”

“Just let me know when you wanna have some!” he exclaimed as you began walking. “I’ll go with you.”

You simply smiled at him, continuing your attack on your sweet potato. “You know, my mom misses you.”

“Really? Have I really left that big of an impression on her?”

“Well, yeah. You always ate everything and brought food. How did you know she didn’t like flowers or chocolates or any of that shit?”

“Well, I noticed the fake flowers around the house. And well, the severe lack of plants,” he chuckled, whisps of white ribbon in the evening air. “My mom’s the same way, too. She says they just die anyway. She also just can’t take care of them.”

You laughed at that.

“And you don’t even like flowers that much.”

“I do!” you exclaimed, looking at him slightly offended. “What are you talking about?”

“You prefer food, big back.”

“Okay, not too much on me. Guess who keeps asking me out for dates that include food?” you said, bumping his shoulder with yours. “Plus, I’d rather get something physical. Like a photo or a train ticket or some shit.”

“Yeah, I know,” he smiled, eyes on his shoes. His grin stretched from flushed ear to flushed ear, soft giggles escaping his mouth every few moments.

“What are we laughing at?” you asked.

“Oh, nothing,” he said, giggling low not 2 seconds after.

You hummed in suspicion. “Where are we going now?”

“Mmm. Somewhere.”

“Wow, ‘kay, mysterious guy.”

You let him lead you in silence, fingers still intertwined with each other. You two arrived in front of a store full of books. The Korean in front read “Bookstore”. It looked like some indie bookstore, deep brown shelves, stacks of books on the floor, warm lighting, and the occasional person reading a synopsis on the back of a book. Your mouth hung open slightly.

“Can we go in?” you murmured, eyes now on him.

“No. We’re here to just to fucking look in.”

You gave him a nasty side-eye, and he just laughed at you. Oh, how you missed that sound. “Just kidding. They close in two hours. I’ll buy whatever book you want,” he said with a warm, loving, and real smile, one that you learned he only gave to you.

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

“You’re so sweet. How can I ever repay you,” you replied with a pout, closing the distance between you two, hips now flush against each other.

“Well, you gave me the honour of being your boyfriend. On my birthday of all days. I think that’s more than enough for me. Did your pretty little head forget all that already?” he said, tapping your head softly.

“No, actually. I just didn’t know that it mattered that much for you.”

He scoffed in slight disbelief. “Let’s go in now. You gotta get all the books you want. All of them, okay?” he insisted, hands now resting quietly on your waist. “No putting any back on the shelf because you feel bad or whatever.”

You pouted. “Fine.” You held eye contact with him and searched his eyes, looking for what else he could be trying to say in this very moment. But with the way his breath hitched slightly, the way his mouth was left slightly agape, and the way his eyes kept darting to your lips every few seconds, you already knew. You simply leaned in, fingers clutching his arms to bring him closer, letting him meet you in the middle, pressing a kiss to his lips. “I love you, Keonho.”

He blushed and began softly giggling like a little kid. “I love you too,” he breathed your name, head tilting slightly as he bored into your eyes. “C’mon,” he said, already pulling your hand to the entrance.

As soon as you stepped through the bookstore’s doors, you were greeted with the wooden smell of books and their bookshelves. It brought a soft warmth to your cheeks and a smile to your face.

You beelined for the fiction section, browsing their fantasy and literary selection. Your mind was careful in choosing your next read, intentionally scanning each book’s synopsis to see which one would be worthwhile—and worth the money.

You ended up with a few books your friend recommended, a book series you had been wanting to purchase anyway, and you even picked up an interesting enough Korean book. You didn’t know how you’d read it, but you’d learn the language one day, right?

You carefully placed your books down on the counter by the cashier, fingers trembling slightly from the sheer number of books. Keonho did most of the talking for you as you simply smiled politely whenever she glanced at you. Your focus went to your bag, fishing for your wallet.

“Nuh-uh. Remember?” he quirked as the machine beeped. “On me.”

You let out a breath of annoyance and adoration. “You’re so…”

“Amazing? Handsome? Caring? Hot? Perfect? Yours? Why, of course,” he listed with a cute wink.

The lady handed you your bag of books with a smile as you bowed in gratitude. “Thank you, Keonho,” you smiled sheepishly, leaning into his shoulder.

“Of course,” he beamed.

As you two were making your way back to your AirBnB, the building already in sight, your steps came to a halt.

“Shit!” you exclaimed.

He jolted in surprise. “You scared me. What’s wrong? Forgot something?”

“No. I just realized that I do not have space for all of this,” you said, slightly gaping at him. Now you had to worry about making room in your already stuffed suitcase. Or even extra charges on your card for an extra bag.

Keonho seemed to have thought about it for a moment. Then, he simply shrugged. “I’ll pay for the extra bag. Just take it home.”

“But—”

“Please.”

“I owe you too much already.”

“Please.”

“I…” you sighed, looking at your tempting haul of books.

“Plus, it’d be a shame to let these go to waste… Seonghyeon rarely reads anymore and Juhoon only reads non-fiction,” he trailed on.

“Fine,” you grumbled.

“Yay!” he exclaimed adorably, grin widening with your approval. “I can finally pay for my beloved girlfriend’s shit.”

“Whatever,” you mumbled, looking down at your shoes. Suddenly, you felt his lips on your cheek. His warm affection made you giggle a little.

As you got into your AirBnB, taking off your shoes, Keonho said, “Hey, why don’t you give me a haul? Tell me about the books you got.”

“Yes! Okay!” you replied, already running towards the living room. He followed your figure, copying the way you skipped in your step.

“Okay!” you exclaimed, sitting down against the couch, his shoulders flush against yours as you took out each book with care. “This one is my favourite fantasy series.”

“Percy Jackson,” he read.

“Yes! It’s a 2010s series that so many people have read. It was even adapted into a movie and a series! The series is out on Disney+ I think. The main character is your age I think. Well, further into the series. It has elements of Greek mythology and stuff. And the main couple literally yearns for like 5 books straight. 2 out of those 5 books, the guy doesn’t even realize he likes the girl. Can guys genuinely be that oblivious?”

“Yeah, unfortunately.”

You nodded. “Actually. You know what? Yeah. That checks out.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he laughed.

You giggled. “Anyways. I’m still saving up for The Hunger Games series. But the one with the new book. I want the special editions with the pretty edges, but they’re so expensive because of how many books there are. But after I buy that, I essentially have all the series I want,” you beamed.

“And this is the classic book I got. I’ve never really read them because they seem so intimidating. Like the words they use are so old.”

“Right! I never liked reading any of them in school.”

“Yeah. But I loved the ‘Pride & Prejudice’ movie. Especially the 2005 one. And this one, I promised to never watch the movie unless I read the book. So, now I can watch the movie! As long as I get to reading it,” you laughed.

“Let’s watch it together,” he offered.

“You’ve never watched ‘Perks of Being a Wallflower?’”

“No. It was never really on my radar.”

“Insane. I guess that makes you and me,” you laughed. “Anyways! That was my book haul paid for by my lovely boyfriend,” you beamed, leaning in a little closer to his face. “Thank you, my favourite boy.”

He giggled at your words, eyes flickering to your lips. “Of cour—”

You let your lips meet again before he could let the electricity in the air simmer for longer, choosing to show your gratitude through action. Your kiss lingered longer than you needed to. Your happiness from the books you’ve acquired and the way Keonho chose to express his love made you want to offer him some of your own. The way his breath hitched from surprise and his face quickly melted into yours made your head go fuzzy. It awakened something deep in you that you couldn’t quite name yet.

When you two separated his eyes flickered with something hungry. It wasn’t new, but one you hadn’t seen in a long time. The way his eyes were slightly dazed made your own brain melt to mush and cheeks flush as a corny idea flashed through your mind.

“I should, uh, go to bed,” you nervously muttered, already standing up so that he wouldn’t see your flustered face.

“Huh?” he asked, tone adorably dumbfounded.

“I gotta get used to the time here,” you said, hand reaching out to the handle to your room. Something in your heart told you to look back at him, fearful in whatever awkwardness this moment might leave you if you simply abandoned him. His gaze was adorably dazed as his eyes lingered on yours. “Wanna watch me do my skincare?” you asked.

“Yeah!” he jumped from where he sat to follow you.

He sat on the toilet as you did your skincare. He commented occasionally, muttering products you didn’t even know were beneficial to skin in the first place. The “did you know” explanations were adorable as he said them with utmost certainty and confidence.

At some point, you ended up in your bed, limbs tangled comfortably, as one hand scrolled through Netflix in search for a movie to watch.

“I wanna watch an action movie,” he murmured by your shoulder, your sitting position making you taller than him.

You hummed. “Which one?”

“We watched Top Gun last time.”

“Yeah. Then La La Land afterwards. You absolutely bawled your eyes out when we watched that,” you snorted.

“Hey! It was a sad ending,” he defended as his eyebrows furrowed together. “They didn’t need to end that way,” he murmured with a pout.

You sighed. “But it’s realistic, no? Not everything will end with a happy ending.”

“Yeah,” he breathed. “Sometimes the only thing you gain is a newfound understanding.”

“How wise of you, Keonho. Said exactly how I’d say it.” After a few moments of scrolling through your laptop, your mouse hovered over a familiar movie. “What about How to Train Your Dragon? Have you watched any of ‘em?”

“I think I watched the 1st and 2nd one. I forgot there was a third one,” he mused, staring at the series on your screen.

“You’re in for a ride, then,” you grinned, pressing play. You scooted lower, now closer to him, chest pressed against his shoulder with your arm laid over his stomach.

It was moments like these that simultaneously made your heart flutter—knowing that a domestic yet romantic love could exist—and your stomach uneasy with an ache that you’ve grown too accustomed to in the past couple of months.

Keonho was nice. He was good. He was charming. He was thoughtful. He cared. He saw you for who you were. And he really reminded you ofthat faceless boy in your dreams that would resurface every once in a while. He constantly made you want to be better—to eat better, to be kinder, to live better.

And the love you two had for each other felt so real. It didn’t feel conditional. It didn’t feel like it would fade like a sunset into the night sky, it’s beauty fleeting and temporary. You would need to cherish a sunset more in the moment than anytime after.

And you saw how much he depended on you. For love. For support. His insistent begging to be essentially attached to your hip like a koala warmed your heart affectionately.

So, why did you feel so guilty?

Why won’t that pit in your stomach go away?

Was it because you knew this had to end? Was it because you saw how your friends’ relationships went? How they crashed and burned and ended in two broken people? Or worse, one unphased heart and one shattered heart?

You knew you could love him. You did—

You do.

With your whole heart. You’d find a way to fly to space and capture the moon if he said he wanted it in passing. You couldn’t imagine what life would be like without him in your life, loving you, supporting you, holding you, like his own life depended on it.

So, what was it with this melancholy that held your stomach captive?

Usually, in moments like these, your mind was quick to offer you some sort of final decision. Some final statement, final action, that made you sure of what you felt and what you needed to do next. But right now, it was dead silent. Hushed. Still.

It could be because he was right next to you. His arm wrapped around you lovingly and intentionally. His chest going up and down softly as the movie went on. His heartbeat soft and relaxed in your ear as you laid beside him. His perfume washed out through the day’s activities on his shirt. Dialogue between Hiccup and Astrid being the only sound in the room as your thoughts washed over you like diving deep into water.

Moments like these back at home were easily brushed off because you knew you were firm in your love for him.

But, what changed since coming here?

How did this guilt get so amplified?

What do you even do in this situation?

Keonho and the rest of CORTIS had invited you out to karaoke. You had dinner once again at their dorms, the air warm and filled with a welcoming laughter as they joked and ate and joked some more. It helped push down some of your doubting thoughts from the night before.

The air was crisp and a little like the air you had at home, the cigarette bums, urine on the wall, and gas smell mixing to create a disgusting yet familiar scent. The other members each stood beside another, talking about everything and nothing. You and Keonho lingered near the back, your baggy jeans swooshing with each step, arms brushing every time he leaned in every few seconds. It was like he yearned to be glued right next to you, never wishing there to be a gap between you two.

“What’d you think of the movie last night?” you chirped.

He hummed in thought. “I think it was pretty good. I don’t know if I told you yet but I watched How to Train Your Dragon 1 and 2 this morning because I forgot some things. But the drawing and animation style has improved so much.”

“Right? I mean, when I first rewatched the first one, I thought I was watching some downgraded version of it. The quality looked so ass.”

He chuckled, the sound sending vibrations to your chest. “I think story-wise, the second one was better. The first one was and always will be peak, though.”

“Yes,” you beamed. “What do you think about the message, though?”

He hummed, whisps of a sheer-white breath coming from his nose. After a beat, he spoke. “I think it was very needed. Toothless leaving to be with the rest of the dragons. Hiccup letting go of the very thing that he thought made him who he was. But sometimes, you do need to move on and let go of some things to truly be yourself. On your own. I think his identity relied too much on Toothless. On him being a “dragon-whisperer” or whatever. Hiccup needed to be Hiccup. On his own.”

“But, don’t you think they still could have been together? That Hiccup didn’t need to let go of something beautiful just to find himself?” you offered.

“Well,” he breathed. “That’s true. But then, Toothless would have been stuck. Stuck in a world that technically wasn’t his. Stuck with a person that understood him but didn’t truly compliment him. I think Toothless and the Light Fury was a good choice. And Hiccup had to rely on Toothless for his entire identity.”

After a moment of considering his thoughts, you spoke up again. “Do you believe in somebody that completes you?”

“Not really. I think that’s a stupid idea. That you have to find somebody else to be whole. You are your entire self on your own. You are a mosaic of the people you have encountered. Another person isn’t the missing puzzle piece or whatever. You’re just you.”

“That’s very wise of you, Keonho,” you mused.

“What about you?”

“Same. I think that just takes away from your purpose in your life. That you need to find your someone, or else your life hasn’t really started. There’s this whole dependency on the other person that comes with that concept. Like you said, it’s stupid.” After a beat of stillness, you spoke up again. “Though, I do believe in the concept of soulmates.”

“Soulmates?” he repeated.

“Yeah. At least when it comes to true, romantic love. All the love stories that I’ve heard were simple when you merely touched the surface of their relationship, but when you go deeper into it all, you see how it seems… fated. Like somebody reconnecting with their high school classmate. Or somebody bumping into someone on the street. Or going on a blind date. It all seems like God made it so that they intentionally met up at that specific moment in time. Sometimes it’s not perfect, but it’s real.”

“That’s nice to think about. Everything happened in the past made them who they are now, and at that moment is the perfect time for this person who is destined to be yours.”

“Exactly,” you grinned. “You get me.”

“Great minds,” he mused.

“They think alike,” you finished for him.

You simply smiled at your conversation, interlocking your arm with his.

The karaoke room was freezing cold with the air conditioning blasting when you first entered, but now everything was fogging up with the body heat and sweat. James and Keonho were singing “You Belong with Me” by Taylor Swift, Keonho’s voice cracking every few lines with how high he had to sing. You simply giggled at their actions, sometimes singing along with James as he exaggeratingly acted out the storyline of the song while Keonho danced so stupidly, limbs flailing everywhere as he spun.

You hadn’t anticipated to see this childish part of James. His persona came off as very cold, blunt, and intimidating in the beginning. But seeing him smile, scream like a little kid, and sing as if he was the youngest in this group, made you wonder how someone could be two entirely different people at the same time. It was a thought you knew you had to visit once more at another time. Preferably one where you had pen and paper ready.

James sighed loudly in defeat as he collapsed on the couch opposite from where you were. “I’m done. Someone else next.”

“I wanna rap,” muttered Martin.

“Yeah? What song?” asked Seonghyeon.

“Hm. I wanna sing something she knows,” Martin said as your head popped up as you heard yourself mentioned. “You listen to rap?”

“Oh, uh, it’s not really my taste,” you nervously chuckled. “But I’m sure whatever you choose will be good!”

Martin stared at you, thumb and pointer finger rubbing his chin gently in thought, seeming to be flipping through a mental catalogue for a few moments. “You like BTS?” he asked.

“Who didn’t?” you chuckled. “Their 2020 album was so good. That was the last time I listened to their other music, I think.”

“I got it! I know the perfect song,” Martin exclaimed, typing in the numbers for the right song into the remote.

The screen flashed “UGH! By BTS” as the driving rhythm took over the speakers. It had been a long while since you heard this song, but memories attached to it, as well as how the song went, slowly came to you as each line was played. The bass vibrated so loudly in the karaoke room, Martin’s rap flow sounding tired and slightly all-over-the-place as it echoed in the speakers. Your head continued to bop to the beat as Keonho finally sat beside you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders, almost as if it was muscle memory.

“You good?” he murmured into your ear as he brought you in, voice low and quiet enough for only you to hear.

“Mhm,” you hummed, mouthing the chorus’ lyrics.

“Like this song?” he asked with a smile.

“I remember how much I loved this song,” you mused fondly.

“I remember when this song first came out, too. Hearing this during COVID was something else.”

“Right.” You let yourself lean in a fraction into his chest as the song finished. The contact warmed your back and seemed to have melted his heart as he placed a chaste kiss on your temple.

“’Kay, Y/N. Your turn,” said Martin, handing you the catalogue and remote.

“Oh! Please. Skip me.”

“I insist,” Martin urged with a curious sparkle in his gaze.

You thought about what song to sing for only a moment. Then your eyes scanned the catalogue as your finger ran over each page, searching and finding the one song on your mind. You grabbed the remote and typed in “101341” as the instrumental of “My Boo” by Usher and Alicia Keys began playing.

“Oh my God, I know this song,” you heard Martin mutter from the other side of the room.

“Yeah. It sounds familiar,” replied James as he stared at the screen as if he was trying to decode each sound coming from the speakers.

By the time the chorus came around, everyone was singing along with you, successfully easing your nerves, sweat now left to dry as you got more comfortable with your environment. You could hear Keonho and Martin doing stupid adlibs, hyping you up every so often, urging you to finish the song completely. Martin seemed to simply be that person. Passionate, loud, and so unapologetically himself. He wasn’t constantly talking for the sake of filling silence, but because it seemed like life didn’t feel complete if he wasn’t saying something. He creates a warm and happy atmosphere that it makes you want to join in on the fun. You finished your song with a sudden burst of laughter as Martin attempted a high note and failed miserably, a voice crack now forever recorded on Juhoon’s phone.

“Please delete that. From your phone. From all your minds,” Martin groaned, face going red as a strawberry.

“This is getting saved, backed up, and locked in on my phone, bro,” laughed Juhoon.

“Send that to me too, please,” James said as his shoulders shook with his laughter.

“Just send it to the group chat,” Seonghyeon somehow muttered out as he doubled down, clutching his stomach as he giggled.

“Whatever,” groaned Martin as he hid his face in his hands. The laughter mellowed down to an occasional soft giggle. “I’m getting out of here. I’ll get snacks. Who wants to come with?”

“I’ll go,” responded James with a smile, whisker dimples coming out.

“Anyone want anything specific?” asked Martin as he stood up. Heads shook around the room in response. “Amazing,” he replied, sarcasm laced into his voice. “Do not complain that if you don’t get the snacks you want.”

Juhoon muttered something in Korean to Seonghyeon as the two left, a smirk left on Juhoon’s face as he put in a song into the machine. “Superpowers by Frank Ocean” flashed the screen.

“Aye,” Keonho beamed. “The Juhoon classic.”

“Of course. Karaoke nights are never complete if I don’t sing this song,” he smiled as he began singing.

The song was simple. Soft. Special. So Juhoon. All-together, he resonated this calm and interesting persona that made you feel at ease. It wasn’t charisma or appeal, rather it was gently and simply living as he is. The authenticity of him and the raw emotion in his voice as he sang made you have a newfound appreciation for him.

“One more song for me. Then I’m done,” muttered Juhoon as he scanned the catalogue.

“Already?” asked Keonho with a small pout.

“Yeah, bro. Practice was brutal today.”

“Valid,” Keonho agreed.

“Let’s sing this one,” Seonghyeon said, showing Juhoon what song he was referring to. Juhoon nodded.

After Seonghyeon typed out the numbers on the remote, the screen flashed with “Nobody Gets Me by SZA”. The emotion in Seonghyeon’s voice drove this song—lyrics raw and real and personal. Underneath his frustratingly perfect facial proportions and charismatic smile and smooth, flirting voice, it can often get lost on people that he had his own feelings and thoughts. Ones that might be worth listening to. Considering that he watched movies and read often, it shouldn’t be a surprise when he expressed mature emotions and ideas. Hearing Seonghyeon sing with emphasized emotion, you could feel how much he felt and how true the lyrics were to him. This ethereal sheen of “idol-image” had disintegrated entirely, the raw, real, and true Seonghyeon now sat across the room from you.

Eventually, Seonghyeon and Juhoon also left, speaking words of “finding Martin and James” and “making sure that they’re actually coming back”. You and Keonho simply shrugged in reply, his fingers already flipping through the catalogue for the next song.

“Let’s do this one,” he said, a smirk already forming on his face.

“Oh?” you said, a grin growing on your lips, as you read “Sk8er Boi” by Avril Lavigne across the screen.

“C’mon!” he said grabbing your wrist. “No one’s here. Let’s dance!”

“You know I can’t dance!” you exclaimed, already giggling.

“Who cares? I certainly don’t! No one else is here!”

“Fine,” you huffed.

You let your fears and anxiety go entirely, comforted by the fact that it was truly only you and Keonho in this karaoke room. You let your shoulders dance to the beat, voice choosing to do the harmonizing as the song progressed. The fun electric guitar added to your excitement, now pretending to be the one doing all the little riffs. As the instrumental came in, Keonho grabbed your hands as you danced stupidly like weird teenagers. But that was who you two were. You sang along with him, hyping each other up and bopping your head to the rock beat.

“That was fun,” he said as he flopped onto the couch, opening a water bottle and taking a swig.

“Yeah,” you giggled.

“You do the next song.”

“You sing with me, though.”

“Sure!” he exclaimed with a soft smile.

“Teenage Dirtbag by Wheatus” flashed the screen after you typed in the corresponding numbers.

“I love this song,” he mused, eyes growing wide. You walked up to where he sat, almost singing the first verse to him, remembering your emotion from when you hadn’t known him entirely when you first met. The crinkles near his eyes deepening by the second as he watched you with a smile. Keonho got up and started singing with you after the chorus, both of your heads swinging to the beat like kids at a concert. You laughed as he danced around like a toddler.

“You sing the 2nd verse?” you asked into the microphone.

“Duh,” he smiled. He walked up to you, too, eyes boring into yours as he sang the verse’s lyrics. He gestured and looked you up and down as if you were the very muse of this song. You let yourself jump and dance freely as the chorus came about, the lyrics repeating and sung loudly by you two through the speakers.

Some time in the middle of the song, right before the bridge, you spoke. “Wait! You do melody, I’ll do harmony.”

“Gotcha!”

As the post chorus came, you reached high for the harmonizing line as Keonho remained lower with the melody line. Your voices aligned almost perfectly, save for the split second that you were flat, creating sounds that complimented each other. It didn’t sound like either you were trying to overpower each other, neither in volume nor technique. Your voice remained quieter to compliment the main melody line, letting his part shine as the lead. His eyes locked onto yours as you both continued to sing. There was a quiet understanding that flowed between you two like shallow blue waves running over your feet. Even when it would ebb back into the water, you knew it would eventually come back, just like the way this specific harmony line returned to the same note as the main melody.

As the song finished, a warm feeling bloomed in your chest. A content and giddy emotion that you couldn’t quite name. Spending this time with him felt fulfilling, more than you had ever anticipated. “That was nice,” you mused as he sat beside you.

“Yeah,” he breathed with a smile, eyes remaining on yours. You let yourself gaze at him for a little while longer. Linger for a little bit more. He leans in a smidge before halting, boring into your eyes, searching for any hesitancy or refusal, yet—like always—yearning for you to let him in. As if he didn’t own your entire heart already. You only gave him a warm smile in response as you glance at his lips then back to his eyes once more. His breath hitched in anticipation, your own fingers twitching to reach out and touch this loud lover.

You can never tell who leaned in first. But with the soft press of his lips on yours, you couldn’t care less. In this moment, you were with a boy you had liked—loved—and that was enough. It was sweet, lingering, and so full of a bubbly warmth that it overflowed in your heart, making you giggle.

“Why are we giggling?” he asked with an adorable smile.

You hummed then shrugged. “Why don’t we go around the room and say what’s on our minds?”

“Okay. You go first.”

“Well, I’m thinking about your lips. How they’d feel on mine, maybe. How warm your cheeks would get, maybe. But also if we’d get caught by your members. What their reaction would be like. How often they’d tease you about this, even when I leave for home.”

“That’s a lot of thoughts,” he said with an amused smile.

“Who am I without them?” you quirked. “What about you, pretty boy?”

He hummed for a moment. “I’m thinking a lot about kissing you too,” he mused as his eyes flickered to your lips for a second. “And I’m also thinking a lot about how you never tell me why you love me. Not as a joke. But truly what’s on your heart,” he said with a slightly bittersweet expression.

Whatever defense you thought you had died on your tongue before it could come to life. A stutter of half-thought words dissolved in your throat as you failed to counter him. In some way, you had owed him that. To some, it might have been a simple thing to indulge him in. As if it had no pressure whatsoever to your heart. Or to your relationship.

You weren’t one to say things like this. It was mostly Keonho, attempting to profess his love for you in mumbled words and phrases that could be poetic if he arranged them properly. You accepted his professions with a tender care, holding them near your heart no matter if that one part of you cringed at him.

But now, he was prompting for you to be… cringe. It wasn’t entirely cringe, really. It was simply an outward expression—or rather, confession—of love. It was so raw. So intimate. But you halted your spiraling before it could even begin. Because when were you two ever not raw? Or emotionally intimate? You knew him the way you had the back of your hand memorized. You felt for him and felt him like it was the most natural thing. And it was. So nothing could truly stop you from doing this.

You breathed out, exhaling each negative thought, as you leaned in. With each inch of movement, the gap between you two grew smaller and smaller. You watched his pout turn into a pucker as he anticipated your kiss. It made you giggle warmly on the inside. “I love you, Keonho, because you’ve given me a reason to be happy again.” And it’s true. Maybe it’s simply the changing of the seasons, but your days feel brighter, warmer, more colourful. He’s made you desire a better life. A life to be loved. You place a chaste kiss on his lips, pulling back to watch his eyes go slightly dazed.

“I love you, Keonho, because you see and hold and understand a part of me that you’ve seemingly intentionally become fluent in.” He understood you like it was his first language. As if he knew you already. As if he studied you diligently beforehand. It was almost like you two shared a brain. You never had to explain why for him to understand anything. Yet he gave you the space to explain when you wanted to. He offered you that perfect balance between understanding the silent expressions and understanding your oftentimes chaotic words and phrases. He desired to be fluent in you, and he did his best to learn all of you. And that was the most attractive thing anyone could ever do for you. You kissed him once more, lingering a beat longer than before.

You let out a shaky breath, the rawest parts of you being exposed to the boy in front of you. Tears were already welling in your eyes, and you could tell that he was also tearing up. But you both refused to let them fall, your grip on each other’s arms tightening with each passing second. You could feel the warmth of his breath mixing with yours near your lips as he tenderly bore into your eyes. “And most of all, Keonho, I love you because despite knowing all of me, you aren’t scared of me. You don’t push me away when things get too vulnerable or deep. You stay. And I don’t know why. And I don’t want you to. I really hope you don’t want to either.” He lingered. He stayed. Even when he didn’t have to. When you knew that this would be the one thing that ticked him off or was the last straw. And you couldn’t find a logistical reason why other than he truly loved you. And who were you not to reciprocate true, real, and raw love? Who were you to give up a connection so special when you desired it just as much?

You sealed your confession with one final kiss, one that almost hurt with how vulnerable you were just now. You were laid bare emotionally to this boy. Your fingers trembled where it gripped his sleeve. Your shoulders shook with the anxiety of being perceived. But you weren’t exactly scared that it he wouldn’t accept you.

Because he would hold you. He did hold you in this exact moment, arms now wrapped around your torso. He’d hold your body with as much intention he would hold your soul.

Because no matter how raw you felt with him, you could rest assured that he would be just as raw with you.

Any and all thoughts of everyone else returning to the karaoke room and finding you two tangled up in each other, now consumed in the way he touched you and held you.

The only thing that mattered in this moment was the confession that you let leave your lips and the way he accepted it with gentle care.

Your heart was laid in front of him, and he cherished it so much that he gave you his.

What was love if it wasn’t reciprocated, shared, and in union with another?

The Korean barbeque place was too warm. You’d stripped of all your jackets and layers, the only remaining piece of clothing being a black long-sleeve Uniqlo heat tech. But the warmth was already so overbearing that you had the sleeves scrunched to your elbow, leaving uncomfortable marks on your arms. Your had forgotten your spare hair tie or claw clip, so your hair was uncomfortably down on your shoulders. Keonho was already asking the staff for your second jug of water with how much you were drinking to cool yourself down.

“You okay? Wanna go somewhere where it isn’t so warm?” he asked.

“Nah. I’m okay. Just give me a couple of minutes,” you said, sipping on your ice cold water to let it cool you down slowly.

“’Kay. I’ll start cooking though.”

“Yeah, that’s fine,” you murmured with the cup still at your lips. “Oh!” you exclaimed as you laid your cup down. “Do you like kimchi?”

“Not really. You want more?” he said, glancing at the tiny plate of kimchi.

You hummed. “Maybe. We’ll see. I know you don’t like it. So maybe I’ll finish it myself instead.”

“Well, it’s free anyway,” he said. Before you could stop him, he was already turning around and calling a waiter for more.

A small pout adorned your lips. “Thank you, Keonho. You didn’t really have to.”

He shrugged. “I wanted to,” he said with a soft smile, one that you desperately wanted to memorize, yet it almost hurt to commit to memory.

He flipped the galbi meat, the marinade sauce splattering aggressively on the pan. Sizzling and murmurs of conversations were all that was heard in this small Korean barbeque spot. Old couples, friend groups, and families of all sizes surrounded you two. Some were laughing at a friend, all collectively laughing at some inside joke. Some were deep in gossip, one person’s eyes going wide as the other spoke fast. Some were busy eating, content smiles on their lips as they ate silently.

Your eyes drifted towards Keonho’s hands as he worked diligently to cook your food. His knuckles were going white as he gripped the tongs, his other hand swiftly cutting the meat into smaller pieces. A silver bracelet dangling graciously from his wrist as he moved all the cooked meat on a separate plate. The white nail polish was chipping all over his nails, but it gave his hands a very grunge accessory. One random day, he had asked you what colour to paint his nails. You offered white, your brain logistically coming to that decision because it was a good neutral but was flashy enough to be seen in his outfits. His expression through the phone at first looked like he didn’t want to take your recommendation, but after a few moments of silence, he chirped an adorable “okay” and smiled. The memory made you smile in thought.

He began cutting the bones off the galbi meat.

“Wait, you don’t have to do that.”

“It’s okay. You never clean it off the bone anyway. You always end up giving them to me.”

“True,” you chuckled. “Thank you.”

He hummed softly, already putting a few cut up pieces of meat onto your dish, all ones you were already eyeing while he was cooking.

You stared at the boy in front of you. Part in awe and admiration. Part in fear and confusion. Because since when were you one to let someone else cook for you like this? When was the last time you were the one waiting for the food instead of flipping the meat for them? Maybe when you were 7 when your dad was the one cooking. Maybe when you were 12 when your mom was flipping the meat on your birthday. But since then, you were always the one making sure everything was cooked to perfection, with the perfect amount of char but not burnt.

Since when would you allow someone else, especially a boy, do all this for you?

Order extra side-dishes because he knew you loved it.

Cooked each piece of meat to perfection, just the way you liked it.

Notice when your water was running low and ask the waiter for more for you.

Since when did you let your guard down so low that you’d let someone else do it for you?

The thought baffled you. Because that meant you were deep into this. This wasn’t something you could easily get out of or let go of anymore. You were stuck in the middle of a deep and unknown ocean with no land nearby. This was something that was so ingrained into your soul that it took over how you let yourself be loved. And you didn’t know what that meant now. You didn’t know if that meant you should love him more and stay in the middle of that deep water, because at least it was with him. You didn’t know if that meant you should start letting go before it gets worse. The pit in your stomach only grew. Because there was so much you could do to get out of it. And you should do it now before you get more attached, or worse, you fall deeper in love—

“You waiting for me to eat?” he asked, snapping you out of your spiral.

It took you a moment to form a reply. You landed on: “Yeah.”

A hand went to flick off the heat as his other hand placed down the tongs. “Let’s eat.”

So, you ate.

You ate as if you weren’t doubting him a mere minute ago. He smiled at you warmly as if you weren’t second guessing your intentions for this relationship, one that you desperately desired and anxiously fought for. He refilled your plate with meat, taking the pieces with bones and cartilage that you didn’t eat, as if you weren’t just considering breaking up with him.

He hummed. You closed your eyes for a moment, grounding yourself in the vibrations that sent through your chest. After swallowing his bite, he spoke up. “What would you do if you knew that once you woke up, it would be your final day on earth? Like, what would be the places you go to or who would be the people you see?” he asked.

“Ooh,” you mused, setting down your chopsticks. “That’s a good question.”

He gave you the silence you needed to think about it.

“Well, for the sake of my heart, you are visiting me. So that I can see both you and my family. I think I’d rather kill myself than choose between the both of you.”

“Valid,” he chuckled.

“But I think I’d wake up early and go to the beach. Watch the sunrise and enjoy a good sandwich. Focaccia, mozzarella, tomato, pesto, arugula. Toasted only slightly. Then, I’d try to meet up with some of my friends for brunch. Take some photos, tell them the things I don’t say often, hug them tight. You know, the usual. Then I’d spend some time alone. Probably go downtown and visit my favourite café, order my favourite ham and cheese croissant, and do those cringey K-pop idol photo strips. I’ll probably do a bunch. Even one with you,” you laughed in thought.

“Then I’d go to the park with my family. So that my dog can be with us, too. Tell them I’m proud of them, lean on my dad’s shoulder, hold hands with my mom, make fun of my brothers, run with my dog. One last time,” you replied, eyebrows furrowing in sorrow.

“And of course, I’d save the best for last and go on a date with you. We’d go out for dinner, probably McDonald’s or some sort of fast food. Then, we’d drive to White Rock again and have a deep talk. Maybe even let myself make out with you in the backseat,” you teased.

“Dang. That’s pretty detailed. Have you answered this before?” he chuckled.

“No. Well,” you mused. “Not really. I guess, I just thought of the things that I would really hate not doing before dying.”

He hummed with an impressed upside-down smile.

“What about you?”

He put down his chopsticks as he thought for a long moment. “Okay, well I’ll have the same rules as you, too. You’re visiting me here while my family’s here.”

“Of course,” you giggled.

“I’d probably do the same. I won’t wake up early, though. I hope it’s a day off. I’ll sleep until like 9:30. Then, I’ll wake up, go to your place and stay with you for a bit. Maybe we’ll cook breakfast together. Then after eating, I’ll take my family out to the movies. They always love it whenever we watch something together. After that, I’d probably go thrifting with my members. I’d bring you along too. Get some cheesy shirts for the giggles,” he smiled.

“I’d probably end the day similar to yours. At the beach, watching the sunset, your hand in mind, while we talk about everything and nothing. Then come back to your place. And I’d pass away peacefully in your arms.”

“Aw,” you said with a small pout. “That sounds so sweet.”

“Yeah. I mean, it sounds pretty sad to think about. But it also makes you think about all the things you need to do and say before you die. It’s dark but deep.”

“Right,” you mused.

The walk after was freeing. The breeze blew graciously on your face as the fresh air breathed refreshingly in your lungs. Your free hand, one that thankfully escaped Keonho’s possessive hold, rubbed your full stomach. You had to loosen your belt at least 3 notches before you could breathe properly. Some might have thought that conversation could have burned a couple calories in the meantime, but man, were they wrong.

“How far’s the walk, Keonho?” you whined. “I’m tired. I could literally pass out right here, right now.”

“It’s literally right there. You see the big neon orange sign?”

“Yeah.”

“It’s 5 minutes from there.”

“Bro.”

He chuckled at your expression. “Sorry. I love rage baiting you.”

“I will literally kill you.”

“You wouldn’t.”

“Oh, I would. Then kill myself right after. I don’t want the guilt eating at me.”

“Why do you have this planned out?” he laughed, throwing his head back in amusement.

“Of course I do. Do you even know me?”

“I was just joking,” he giggled, bumping his shoulder with yours, clutching your hand just a fraction tighter.

The thrift shop had few customers but was packed with racks and racks and racks of clothing.

“This one is my favourite because it has so many good pieces and is always restocked. Like every couple of weeks. I go here so often, I think the owner would know my card information by heart by now,” he laughed. You laughed with him.

Your feet took you to where your eyes staring. You landed by a short sleeved henley you had been eyeing since you got inside. The hanger was rough under your fingers as you took it out to look at it in full. It looked around your size. Cream and faded with dark purple accents on the hem of the shirt and sleeves. In the middle was a simple floral purple branch that decorated very simple top. It was very much your style, and especially for the price, it’s a perfect buy in your book.

You feel Keonho brush up close to you. “That one looks nice. You gonna buy it?” he asked.

You hummed, scanning the top once more. “Maybe. I’ll think about it.” You took a step towards the rack on the other side of you. “I was looking at these jorts, too. But I don’t know if they’ll look good on me.”

“Well, the flower detail on the side looks good.”

“Yeah.”

“But I also like the wash.”

“I think you have something similar. I think you wore it when we went to the pier.”

“Right! I love how you remember it,” he said as his expression softened. “You should buy them,” he replied, as you finally looked at what he had in his hands.

“Whatchu got?” you asked.

“Oh, yes. This grey-brown long sleeve.” It had a cream cross, wings, and swirls that decorated the left upper portion, near the collar.

“Ooh, I like that one.”

“Yeah?” he asked, eyes lighting up. “I’ll get it then.” He rearranged the hangers, putting the long sleeve in the back of the pile in his hands. “And I saw this hoodie.” It was a grey hoodie lined with a dark blue and black plaid. “I don’t know, though. I feel like I can find this for cheaper.” He leaned in closer to your ear. “And with better quality fabric,” he said, eyes now scanning the shop to see if anyone heard him.

You giggled at him. Then, you replied with a lower voice. “Yeah, I think you could probably get this somewhere else. The wear on it is pretty good though.”

“Eh, that’s more Martin’s style.”

“True,” you chuckled.

“But I do need more hoodies. You’ve stolen a total of 5 already. I can’t even imagine how many I’ll have left when you have to go back.”

“Ugh. Let’s not talk about such negative matters. Let’s focus on the fact that I’m here with you.”

“Oh, of course. Not the fact that you are literally committing a crime.”

“It’s not a crime if you don’t catch me,” you smirked. “Or do anything about it.”

“Oh, I have,” he retorted. “You just haven’t noticed.”

You took a moment to process what he said. And suddenly, it was like the moment when everything clicked when you were learning math concepts. “Oh my God.” You hadn’t had any spare hair ties or hair clips in your bag for a while. You had looked through your luggage twice already, all leaving you empty handed with the hair accessories you desperately needed. A serious debate about spending money on buying some here had popped up in your mind more often than you’d like. “Are you stealing my hair ties and hair clips, Ahn Keonho?”

“Woah, full government name. But no. Matter of fact, I deny that baseless accusation,” he replied with his shit-eating grin, already walking away.

“Do not walk away from me, Keonho,” you scoffed, attempting—but failing—to fight a smile.

You find him by the pants. “Give me back half my hoodies and I’ll give them back to you,” he offered.

“But they’re comfortable!” you whined. “And, c’mon, bro. That ‘Drew’ hoodie is so fucking expensive. I can’t find it anywhere.”

“You can take it. I don’t mind,” he said with a small tilt in his head. “Just give me back a few of them. It gets cold sometimes, you know?”

You sighed, a grin now plastered on your lips. “Fine,” you replied reluctantly. “I promise to give some back. But I’m keeping that ‘Drew’ one.”

“Of course,” he smiled. “Let’s go?”

“Sure.”

The walk back to your AirBnB was quiet. The good kind. The one that seeped into the crevices of your brain and carefully caressed the layers of your soul. It was the silence that only came about when you were with Keonho. But with the eerie lack of people on the street, the quiet hum of buildings nearby, and the stillness that the boy beside you let consume your atmosphere, you were left to your thoughts. Again.

In your hand was a bag of clothes. It wasn’t anything special to someone looking in. But they were ones that you from three years would have never bought. Even you from three months ago would have bought something a bit more girly. Something that was bright or had frills.

Some part of you had always thought that “the one” would bring out the feminine side of you. It sounded very backwards to your logic, but it was something that you had been anticipating for a while.

But some time after you met Keonho, that idea disintegrated into dust and was let into the wind. Because somehow, your style now became more like him. Dark wash jeans that were a bit distressed at the ends, neutral henleys that sat a bit looser than what you would usually wear, and graphic tees of bands you didn’t really listen to. It all felt backwards looking back.

But the more you thought about it, the more it made sense. In a way, he was leaving his mark on you. Your clothing style, something you never really had entire autonomy over due to your indecisive mind, had become something like his.

And it was fine. Because you could tell you left an impression on him too. His phrases got deeper, in a sense. He spoke of words and phrases that sounded like they belonged in poems. It sounded like he had picked up little sayings in the same way a friend would pick up phrase that you would use often.

And, yet, you didn’t know what to do with that thought. You didn’t know if you liked that you both had an impact on the other. You didn’t know if that was good or bad. Because you were now chest-deep in dark, cold water. And you couldn’t stop the tide from reaching higher and higher. You wished for your feet to bring you back to shore, back on safe land, where you could rest assured that nothing new or scary would come at you. Back on the sand that grounded your feet, where you knew you could run back to safety with ease.

All at once, you knew you were being undone. You were letting yourself be loved in ways that you didn’t think you would and letting in a boy you hadn’t planned to love at all. The fabric barrier of your soul to the outside world was slowly being unraveled and exposed to the boy beside you. Each stitch broke every time he looked at you like you were something worth loving. Every time he sent you a cringey TikTok that you knew he meant from the bottom of his heart. Every time he held you like you were fragile, yet worth keeping.

The guilt ate at that pit in your stomach when he suddenly interlocked his arm with yours. You could feel the emotion bubble up into your throat. You couldn’t say anything about it all, and you knew you wouldn’t.

Like always, you’d let it simmer in that part of your chest until it exploded.

Because Keonho didn’t deserve your doubt. Your fear. Your anxiety. He deserved your love.

And right now, that was all you could offer.

All you could do was simply wrap your arm tighter around his and lean your shoulder into his.

His chin was heavy as he peered over your shoulder. You could feel him gazing at the book you were reading. Your pinky and thumb were holding the paperback open, your mind only half-invested in the main character’s dialogue as you could feel the warmth radiate off his body behind you.

“Have they kissed yet?” he murmured softly.

You sighed. “No. Can you believe that? Two-thirds through the book and they’ve only held hands.”

“Talk about a slow burn. The candle of their romance is longer than my patience.”

Your shoulders shook with laughter. “Right.”

After a few beats of silence, he shattered the stillness. “Can I show you something?”

“Yeah, sure.”

“It’s just on my laptop. I’ll get it. Stay put.”

“’Kay,” you replied, indulging once more into the story in your hands.

Right when you finished the final line on your current page, you could hear his slippers slapping against the floor as he made his way towards you.

You placed your bookmark onto the next page and placed your book down. “What you gonna show me?”

“Well, it’s nothing bad,” he breathed. “Hopefully.” You saw the way his eyes were blinking faster than usual, eyelashes fluttering beautifully against his cheeks. You could hear the stutter in his breath as he sat down next to you. You could see the crimson that flushed his cheeks to the end of his chin. He desperately avoided your gaze as if when he looked at you, he’d simply pass away. You chuckled at his nervousness as you scooted closer to him, your side flush against his as you placed your cheek near his shoulder.

You watched as he moved his mouse to launch some sort of audio on his laptop, his other hand increasing its volume.

“I’ve been, uh, on this creative streak.”

“Oh?” you chirped.

“Yeah. I made a few drafts. I haven’t really submitted it to management or any other producers because, well, we technically have everything we need for our comeback. You’ve probably seen it. Everything’s being released soon. We have choreo’s and marketing things ready.”

You simply hummed in reply as you bore into his eyes, searching for ways to comfort him. You saw the way he cleared his throat, eyes jolting from side to side in anxiety. His knee jumped in anticipation while his hand started patting his chest. You simply placed a comforting hand on his knee, staring into his eyes, urging him to continue.

“Well, I, um, made two songs. This one’s pretty long. It has very simple production, but the focus is more on the, uh, lyrics,” he swallowed, finally looking back at you. The corners of his eyes softened a fraction as he exhaled shakily. “I actually had the rest of the song done, but I was stuck on the chorus for a while. It was only the other day when I finally wrote something I thought was worth keeping.”

“Play it for me?”

He didn’t respond with words, but pressed play and retreated his hands.

The song began with a metronome-like beat of some sort of synth, acting like the heartbeat of the song. It never failed, though, at some moments, you swore it stuttered and stumbled over itself. But with the way the tracks were laid, you could tell it was aligned perfectly. A mellow electric guitar melody filled the room. It was simple—some notes prolonged in a way that lingered on the chest. Then, you could hear Keonho begin singing. It started with words of confession. Words of fear. Words of anxiety. But as the chorus rolled in, it spoke of reassurance. Somewhere in the end of the chorus, a line played that sounded familiar.

How can I make you know that you deserve all the love in the world? And more?

The reference was on the tip of your tongue. You scanned through everything in your mind that you could think of, yet nothing came up. But the line pulled at your heart. It was a line so simple, yet so raw. Just like the love you two shared. The same way ocean water can feel so refreshing on a sunny day, yet so salty when you accidentally swallow it. The line soothed your soul, yet at the same time, its taste made you want to shrivel away from it.

As the bridge came, you could tell that he wrote this at his most vulnerable. The melody ran fast, his diction getting sloppier and sloppier as he let out the secrets of his heart. He sang of his fear of losing you. He sang of the anxiety that held his chest captive at the mere thought of not being loved by you. He rambled of the ocean—the contrast between its roars or crashes in a storm and its soft caress as you glide through it. As the final repeat of the chorus came, it was like everything clicked.

You blinked. “That line’s from Perks of Being a Wallflower,” you mused as your eyebrows knit together.

“Yeah,” he sighed. “I watched it the other day because you said you liked the book and movie. It was really good.”

“So, you wrote the chorus based on that dialogue?”

“Yeah. Because, I think,” he exhaled, “there are moments that you refuse to let yourself be loved in the way you deserve. You hold your heart too close to yourself that I feel like sometimes I don’t have all of you. And you deserve to have total autonomy over your heart. But it blocks out the affection I want to show you.”

“I’m sorry,” you muttered.

“Don’t be. I just wanted to,” he exhaled, “say it to you somehow. And this was… the best way I knew how. At least without stuttering over my words.”

After a beat, you spoke up. “I’m sorry if I’ve ever blocked you out of myself. I guess, I just don’t know how to navigate this. It gets overwhelming.”

“Well, you need to tell that to people who deserve that permission.” After a moment of silence: “And we can go through this. Together. Like you said when we first fought: it’s easier to go through things with someone else. Because then, the burden is shared. Sadness shared halved, and joy shared is doubled.”

Your shoulders relaxed at his words. “You’re right. And that was a good quote. Write that down.”

His chest shook with laughter. “Of course.”

“I loved that song, Keonho. I liked that heartbeat synth.”

“Thanks. I’m glad you like it. I really wanted it to sound like a heartbeat. Like when you’re going through a panic attack, where your heartbeat just sounds amplified.”

“Yeah. That’s good. Send me the lyrics?”

He nodded. “I’ll send you the audio file, too.”

You sighed, cuddling closer to him, wrapping your arms around him. “I love you, Keonho.”

“I love you so much more,” he whispered your name against your temple as he brought you closer to his chest. He pressed a chaste kiss on your forehead, then one on your nose. “I think you’re my favourite muse.”

You scrunched your nose at his words. “Are you implying that you have a second favourite muse?”

“And if I say yes?”

You jolted back in shock. “Who is she?”

“Who said they were a she?”

“Oh my God,” you sighed in exasperation.

“I’m joking,” he laughed. “You’re my only romantic muse.”

“I better be,” you mumbled as he cuddled into the crook of your neck.

“You’re my always muse,” he mumbled, the words tickling the spot below your ear.

That word… always. It hit you like ice cold water over your head. Because it held weight. It promised of eternity. And you weren’t sure if you were quite ready for that. You liked what you had now. You liked how you were living in your childhood dream. But going through the motions of it all made you think that maybe “happily ever after” was scarier than you had anticipated.

As much as you wanted this “forever” with Keonho, you simply couldn’t shake the way that the word worsened the pit in your stomach.

The day after, Keonho invited you to his studio to work on another demo. Some interlude that he insisted needed your voice instead.

“The vibes are like that time between 5:30 and 6:45 in the evening when the sun has set and the breeze is cool on your skin,” he explained. “I just need these head-voice vocals to compliment the piano arpeggios. I have the sample in there already. You can either follow the melody or make one of your own.”

“Can I listen to it first?” you asked.

He hummed, giving you a pair of headphones as he pulled up the file.

The interlude was only a minute and 4 seconds long. His vocals didn’t begin until the 41st second, all low hums of some melody he created. It all built up to a flurry of instruments—a piano countermelody, a mellow guitar, a soft harp, and a vibrating synth all layered on top of each other, ultimately coming to a peak as the song came to an end. It began to sound like the month of March. The harp soothing the ears like breeze on a cool day. The piano glistening and shimmering flecks of harmony like the sun through the trees. The melody changed and flipped like the shift from winter to spring. It sounded like the promise of starting anew.

And from that first listen, you knew exactly what it needed. Accents of vocals—ones that harmonize with Keonho’s pre-recorded melody, which you insisted on keeping, and ones that compliment the electric guitar. It didn’t need much. Like he said, it just needed a higher voice. One that sounded like the chirp of birds in the morning. One that sparkled like morning dew on tree bark.

You recorded as much as you could offer. At first, it was frustrating. Getting used to his recording system and audio layering was an entirely different thing you had to learn. Sometimes, the mouse wouldn’t click the right button, or it wouldn’t even be recording the sample you just sung. Keonho must have sensed your irritation before it eventually bubbled over and calmly taught you with a patience you hadn’t expected from him. His hands took over the keyboard controls while he directed your other hand on the mousepad. His voice moved to a register that was calm, unwavering, and undeniably attractive. A small warmth spread across your cheeks as your heart stuttered with the intimacy.

After scrapping it once and a few redo’s, you were able to produce a sample you were alright with. You took off the headphones and played the audio for the boy beside you. You watched as his eyes lit up as a wide smile adorned his face.

“It’s perfect,” he beamed. “You captured perfectly what I was trying to portray.” He grabbed your cheeks and kissed your forehead roughly. “Ugh! You’re so perfect. I love you.”

“I love you too, Keonho,” you giggled.

“Oh, by the way,” he mumbled as he closed his laptop. “We’re doing this free concert thing in a few cities nearby. You wanna come watch?”

“Sure! What time?”

“Uh, in around an hour. Hwanwoong will take care of your ride there. Just dress warmly and be smart around crowds.”

“’Course, dude. You think I haven’t been to these things before?”

“I don’t doubt you,” he laughed. “Fans just get crazy here. It’s genuinely scary.”

“I can take care of myself. And I’ll be there to support you. And it’s free,” you emphasized, widening your eyes as if it was obvious. “Who am I to skip on free music and support my very talented and handsome boyfriend?”

His cheeks flushed even more, adding to his boyish charm. “Oh, please,” he said with a smile, looking away. After a moment, he returned his gaze to yours. “But I’d love it if you were there.”

You simply nodded in response.

And he was not wrong about the crowds. Their first stop, Dongmyo, was small. Somebody on their team decided the corner of the street was the perfect place to host a free concert of 5 charming and popular kids. Every thought in your brain thought this was a bad idea, but really, who were you to complain? You were simply a bystander—a mere girlfriend of one of their members. At least you were given a heads up about the locations and times. At least you had a safe ride to each venue.

You lingered near the back to avoid getting cramped somewhere in the middle of the crowd. Their first song was more awkward as the crowd was getting used to their sound. But as usual, slowly but surely, little kids and even grandparents started bopping their heads to the song’s beat.

You saw the way he scanned the crowd when it wasn’t his line, smoothly mouthing the song’s words as he tried finding you. His face lit up with a smile so wide, the sides of his eyes crinkled deeply, once he spotted your face. After a few moments of eye contact, he moved his eyes to the rest of the crowd to avoid suspicion. But with the way his eyes flickered to your general direction every few seconds, you knew he wanted to look at you the entire time. To let his eyes remain on yours as he looked at you with such longing. To commit your face to memory as if he hadn’t been staring at it every day for a few weeks already.

Hongdae’s crowd was worse. By then, fans must have caught onto the hints that the members had left on Weverse and gone to the nearest concert location to them. It was packed unlike no other. Full theatres back at home were never this packed. Thank God it was an outdoor concert, or else the warm air would trigger some sort of claustrophobia for you.

The sun had come out right behind the stage they were performing on. Half the time, you had to keep your hands up to shield your eyes. But the other half was spent admiring your boyfriend. This visual of Keonho was your favourite. His outfit wasn’t necessarily your favourite—sagging striped joggers, a dark grey crewneck, and a deep powder blue jacket—but what brought your gaze back to him again and again was the way the sun hit his features. Every time the sun landed on him, it was like he was the sun’s very own muse. Its rays shone on his face, illuminating his honey-like skin, creating a contrast to his already dark and prominent eyebrows. And from a particular angle, small shadows appeared from where his long eyelashes fluttered.

A sun-kissed angel was the perfect way to describe how Keonho looked.

He looked beautiful. So incredibly charming that you couldn’t entirely believe he was real.

Because how could this person, attractive on the inside and out, love you? What had you done in your previous life that made you deserve to love this boy so expressively and be loved so fully in return?

Ttukseom was the most packed. You began standing at a spot somewhere near the edge of the crowd. But as people started coming in to see the commotion, you got stuck in the middle, cramped between girls your age. The girls beside you had Keonho signs, ones asking for a heart or a kiss. Inside, you laughed because you knew you didn’t have to ask him for any of those. You simply had to give him a look, and he knew exactly what you were asking for.

And you liked that about Keonho. You liked that he knew you so well that you didn’t have to utter a word. But you also liked the fact that he gave you space to talk when you wanted to. You liked that he listened to you intently, actually asking valid questions about whatever you had been rambling about.

You liked this boy. You liked the way he kissed your forehead whenever you two were close. You liked the way his eyes sparkled whenever he was listening to you talk. You liked the way he annoyed you like he was one of your little brothers. You liked the way he loved you like it was muscle memory.

And you wanted to stay. To remain in this relationship that fulfilled you in a way that you hadn’t felt before. But you could already feel a part of you retreating. Shriveling away from his affectionate words and warm cuddles. Because you knew you had to let go soon. The impending doom sat familiarly yet uncomfortably on that pit in your stomach.

Because he wasn’t doing anything wrong. He loved you wholly and fully. And you loved him just as much.

But why wasn’t any of that enough? Why did this guilt eat at your chest months into your committed relationship?

You could feel his gaze linger on yours a little while longer. To others, it seemed like he was simply reading the sign of the fans beside you. But you knew that the faint sparkle in his eyes meant he was longing for you. Keonho effortlessly winked and blew a charming kiss in your general direction. You smiled at his antics and at the girls who were beginning to freak out beside you, giggling at their shared joy.

The whiplash of your emotions sat weirdly in your chest. You knew you couldn’t go on bottling up these thoughts—just waiting for the day that it gets too overwhelming and eventually explodes on something, or someone, you don’t want it on. You knew you couldn’t go on kissing him and blushing at his affections as if your thoughts weren’t doubting your intentions with him.

It didn’t make sense to you anymore.

You knew you had to do something about the pit in your stomach.

To talk about it.

Because he deserved so much more than silence.

And stillness.

But every time you thought of what to say, your throat closed up. It was almost like your body didn’t want you to… potentially ruin this beautiful thing you had.

And you didn’t want to either.

But for now, maybe the best thing you could do was smile at him as he performed.

To hold him tenderly when you get back to your AirBnB.

To love him in this moment of purity.

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