My vid from tt^^

shark vs the universe

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Acquired Stardust
Sade Olutola

Discoholic đȘ©
Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her
Claire Keane

ç„æ„ / Permanent Vacation
we're not kids anymore.
d e v o n
Jules of Nature
let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open
PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH
Alisa U Zemlji Chuda
wallacepolsom
trying on a metaphor

romaâ

@theartofmadeline
hello vonnie
2025 on Tumblr: Trends That Defined the Year
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@enhaartz
My vid from tt^^
Recent Heeseung artâŠ
Dada come back to us
Saw this on twt and I couldnât agree more. I donât understand ot6
It has been 22 days, and still no answers. Only more questions, piling up one after another.
First, the core issue. Why couldnât Heeseung continue as a member of ENHYPEN while also pursuing solo activities? These paths are not mutually exclusive, and many artists manage both with proper scheduling and support.
If scheduling was the concern, why were adjustments or a temporary hiatus not considered? Why was the most extreme outcome chosen instead?
Second, the claim that this was planned after extensive deliberation.
If that were true, why was he still actively involved in promotions and content? Why were preparations clearly structured for seven members rather than six?
From March 10 until now, all visible indicators pointed to his continued participation in future activities. The hints, teasers, and spoilers that were released all included him, clearly showing that he was part of what was being built. This does not align with something that was carefully planned in advance. It points to the opposite.
This suggests that the outcome was not part of a long-established plan.
Third, the timing and execution.
Why did this occur at such a critical moment?
There was also no proper closure. No send-off. No acknowledgement of his contributions. This reflects a lack of respect not only toward him, but also toward the members and ENGENEs.
Finally, the aftermath.
Why are the members unable to publicly mention or support him? Why does it appear as though his presence is being erased despite nearly six years of shared history?
If BELIFT truly cares about him, shouldnât they allow the members to support and promote him as well? Wouldnât that naturally contribute to a stronger and more successful debut?
Why is his nearly six years of hard work being erased this easily, when it could have been acknowledged and carried forward instead?
And beyond that, why is the situation being handled in a way that allows both him and the members to be framed negatively?
Recent jungwon art^^
Kind of old but here is sunghoon stippling arttt
Also please follow my ttđđ @enha_artz
Recent Heeseung artâŠ
Dada come back to us
Being a kpop stan is so crazy because they'll tell you on a random Tuesday that the guy the entire group was formed around is leaving out of nowhere
My vid from tt^^
Finding Where We Fit
Pairings: Autistic! Jake x Caretaker! fem! reader Wordcount:32k
Summary:Hired to help a brilliant, autistic young man navigate a world that is far too loud, you, a newly graduated social worker learns to speak his unique language of logic, LEGOs, and quiet routines. As you become the one permanent variable that makes the static in his mind finally stop, the strict boundaries of your job description slowly blur into a profound, life-changing connection.
Warnings:Caretaker/Client Relationship (Blurring of Professional Boundaries), Autism Spectrum Representation, Sensory Overload & Severe Meltdowns, Ableism & Public Bullying, Mild Self-Harm (Frustration Stimming/Hitting Head - quickly stopped by Yn), Panic Attacks/Hyperventilating, Emotional Angst (Self-Doubt/Feeling "Broken"), Hurt/Comfort, Protective Reader, Extreme Fluff, Touch-Starved Jake, Slow Burn, First Time/Virginity Loss (Jake), Smut (M/F)(FULL CONSENT Iâm not a weirdo đ), Sensory-Focused Intimacy, Emotional Overstimulation (Happy Tears).get those tissues ready for the absolute softest boy.
A/N: can you tell I love writing for jake because I can. I did a lot of watching videos with people that have autism and this fic came to mind, how we all should treat people even if theyâre different from us the same because theyâre trying too! But Iâm such a sappy girl.Anyways Like always Please Like, Reblog and Comment! They are very appreciated.
[Masterlist]
The diploma on your wall was still crooked. It had been hanging there for three weeks, a piece of expensive cardstock in a cheap black frame that declared you were now a Bachelor of Social Work. It was supposed to feel like a victory lap. Instead, it felt like the starting gun of a race you weren't sure you were qualified to run.
You were twenty-two years old. You had a head full of theoryâsystems theory, behavioral psychology, crisis intervention modelsâand absolutely zero real-world experience. The imposter syndrome wasn't just a whisper in the back of your mind; it was a scream.You sat at your small kitchen table, staring at the file folder the agency, New Horizons Support Services, had couriered over that morning.
Kind of old but here is sunghoon stippling arttt
Also please follow my ttđđ @enha_artz
this is the most insane video of enhypen ever
⯠PRETENDING FOR THE A p.sh
nerd!ParkSunghoon x reader
⊠Summary â Youâre the life of every party, the center of every group, and the girl everyone noticesâ but one day your best friend bets you canât make the schoolâs resident nerd fall for you. Only problem? Heâs brilliant, socially awkward, and completely oblivious⊠which works perfectly when you ask him to tutor you. What starts as a harmless bet turns into something neither of you saw coming. Could the fake love be real all this time?
⊠Genre â strangers to lovers (kind of), slow burn, university AU, romance, angst with happy ending, smut
⊠Word count â 29.6k
⊠Warnings â explicit sexual content (MDNI), penetrative sex, oral (male & female receiving), semi-public sex, multiple encounters, strong language, alcohol & smoking, party culture, emotional manipulation (bet trope), betrayal & trust issues, crying/emotional distress, brief social media harassment mention, heavy angst
⊠Now playing â Electric Love by BĂRNS
⊠Authors note â Okay so this fic has been living in my head rent free for way too long and i finally sat down and wrote it. This got away from me (nearly 30k, oops) but i hope every word is worth it. Reader is intentionally flawed because the messiness is the point. Listen to the assigned song for this while you read, especially the middle parts, youâll understand. As always comments, likes and reblogs mean the world. Enjoy the angst, youâre welcome in advance.đ
My masterlist
The bass thrums through your body like a second heartbeat, vibration crawling up from the soles of your heels and settling somewhere in your chest. Youâre three drinks inâsomething sweet and deceptively strong that Mina mixed in the kitchenâand the party is exactly where you like it: chaotic, loud, and utterly yours.
You stand near the center of the living room, red solo cup dangling from your fingers, wearing a black crop top that barely qualifies as a shirt and a skirt short enough that youâd tugged it down twice on the walk over. Not that you care. You know you look good. The stares confirm it, the way eyes track you when you move through a room, the way conversations pause just slightly when you laugh.
âBabe!â Minaâs voice cuts through the music, and you turn to see her shoving her way through a cluster of drunk business majors, her own outfit just as devastating as yoursâa tight red dress that clings in all the right places. Sheâs holding two fresh drinks, wearing that wild grin that always means trouble.
You take the cup she offers, raising an eyebrow. âWhatâs that look for?â
âIâm bored,â she announces, taking a long sip. âThis partyâs gotten stale. Everyone here is so predictable.â
You glance around. Sheâs not wrong. Same people, same drama, same bullshit. Heeseung is doing keg stands in the corner while Jake hypes him up, Jay is flirting with some girl from your Econ lecture, and everyone else is just going through the motions of a typical Friday night.
âSo what do you wanna do?â you ask, leaning against the wall. âLeave?â
âNo.â Minaâs eyes glitter with mischief. âI want to make a bet.â
You laugh, already intrigued. Minaâs bets are legendaryâlast semester sheâd dared you to steal a traffic cone from campus security, and youâd done it just to see the look on her face. âIâm listening.â
She leans in close, her breath smelling like vodka and cherry chapstick. âSee that guy over there?â
You follow her gaze across the room. At first, you donât see who sheâs talking aboutâthereâs too many people packed into the spaceâbut then the crowd shifts, and you spot him.
Park Sunghoon.
Heâs standing near the bookshelf, looking deeply uncomfortable in a neat button-up shirt and glasses, holding what appears to be a bottle of water. His posture is stiff, like heâs not sure what to do with his hands, and heâs nodding along to something Heeseung is saying with this polite, awkward smile.
You know who he is, obviously. Everyone does, but for different reasons than they know you. Where youâre known for the parties, the chaos, the way you light up every room you enter, Sunghoon is known for being the biggest nerd on campus. Statistics and Data Science major, perfect GPA, the guy everyone goes to when theyâre desperate for tutoring. Youâve seen him aroundâusually in the library, hunched over a laptop, or walking to class with his nose in a textbook.
âThe nerd?â you say, taking a sip of your drink. âWhat about him?â
âI bet you canât make him fall for you.â
You almost choke on your drink. âWhat?â
Minaâs grin widens. âCome on. Look at him. Heâs like⊠a different species. You really think someone like him would ever go for someone like you?â
Thereâs no malice in her wordsâthis is just how you two operate, all teasing and challengeâbut something about it pricks at your pride. âSomeone like me?â
âYou know what I mean. Party girl. Confident. Hot as fuck. He probably faints if a girl even looks at him.â She gestures toward Sunghoon, who is now adjusting his glasses and looking around like heâs searching for an escape route. âI donât think heâs ever even been to a party before tonight. Heeseung probably dragged him here.â
You study Sunghoon more carefully. Heâs taller than you expected, with sharp features that might actually be attractive if he didnât look so perpetually nervous. His hair is neat, parted carefully, and his clothes scream âI iron my shirts on Sunday nights.â
âThatâs the bet?â you ask, turning back to Mina. âMake him fall for me?â
âYep. And Iâm talking actual feelings. Not just him stuttering around youâI want him gone for you. Pining. Obsessed.â
You laugh, loud enough that a few people glance over. âThatâs almost too easy.â
âThen you wonât mind putting money on it.â Mina pulls out her phone, thumbs flying across the screen. âTwo hundred dollars says you canât do it.â
Two hundred dollars. Thatâs not nothingâthatâs a weekend trip, or a new pair of boots youâve been eyeing, or enough drinks to not worry about your bank account for a month.
But more than that, itâs the principle. The idea that Mina thinks you canât do something, that Park Sunghoon is somehow immune to you, needles at something deep and petty in your chest.
âYouâre on,â you say, shaking her hand. âTwo hundred dollars. And bragging rights.â
âBragging rights,â Mina agrees, her grin turning wicked. âThis is going to be so fun to watch.â
You drain the rest of your drink, feeling the alcohol warm and loose in your veins, and set the empty cup on the nearest surface. âHow long do I have?â
âEnd of the semester,â Mina says. âThatâs what, fourteen weeks? Should be plenty of time. If youâre as good as you think you are.â
âPlease.â You flip your hair over your shoulder, already feeling the familiar thrill of a challenge. âIâll have him obsessed with me by midterms.â
Mina cackles, pulling you into a quick hug. âGod, I love you. Okay. Go work your magic.â
You glance back toward Sunghoon. Heâs still standing with Heeseung and Jake now, looking like heâs barely contributing to the conversation. Jay has joined them too, and the contrast is almost funnyâthree effortlessly cool guys and one awkward nerd who looks like heâd rather be literally anywhere else.
The smart play would be to approach him tonight, start planting the seeds. But youâre tipsy and the party is loud, and you know first impressions matter. You need to do this right.
âNot tonight,â you say, turning back to Mina. âI need a strategy.â
âOoh, strategic. I like it.â
âMonday,â you decide. âIâll figure out his schedule, and Iâll make my move.â
Mina raises her fresh drink in a toast. âTo the downfall of Park Sunghoonâs GPA and emotional stability.â
You clink your cup against hers, grinning. âHe wonât know what hit him.â
Monday morning comes with a hangover you shake off in the shower and a determination that feels almost dangerous.
You dress carefullyâa tight cropped sweater that shows a sliver of skin above your low-rise jeans, paired with heels that make your legs look longer. Your makeup is flawless, lips glossy, and you know you look good because your roommate actually stops mid-bite of her cereal to stare.
âWhere are you going looking like that?â she asks.
âLibrary,â you say, grabbing your bag.
âThe library?â
You just smile and head out.
Youâd done your research last night, scrolling through social media and asking around until you had a decent sense of Sunghoonâs schedule. Turns out, heâs a creature of habitâevery Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, heâs in the library from 9 AM to noon, tutoring students for credit. Something about needing volunteer hours for his degree, or maybe itâs for some honors society. You donât really care about the why. You just need the when and where.
The library is quieter than usual, the Monday morning crowd sparse. You spot him almost immediately, sitting at one of the large tables near the windows, his laptop open and a stack of textbooks beside him. Heâs alone right now, tapping away at his keyboard with the kind of focus that makes you think heâs probably forgotten the rest of the world exists.
You take a breath, adjust your bag on your shoulder, and walk over.
He doesnât notice you at first. You have to actually stop in front of his table and clear your throat before he looks up, and when he does, his eyes widen slightly behind his glasses.
âUm,â he says, his voice soft and uncertain. âHi?â
âHi,â you say, flashing your most disarming smile. âYouâre Park Sunghoon, right?â
âUh. Yes?â He blinks up at you, clearly confused about why youâre talking to him. His gaze flickers down for just a secondâtaking in your outfit, probablyâbefore snapping back to your face, his cheeks flushing pink.
Perfect.
âI heard you do tutoring,â you say, sliding into the chair across from him without waiting for an invitation. âFor Statistics?â
âOh.â His expression shifts slightly, relaxing into something more familiar. This is territory he knows. âYeah, I do. Are you⊠do you need help with a class?â
âDesperately,â you lie, letting a little frustration creep into your voice. âIâm in STAT 400, and Iâm completely lost. Like, I donât even know where to start.â
STAT 400 is a class you could probably teach at this pointâyouâd aced it last semesterâbut he doesnât need to know that.
Sunghoon nods, pulling out a notebook. âThatâs a tough class. What specifically are you struggling with?â
You wave a hand vaguely. âHonestly? All of it. Probability distributions, hypothesis testing⊠I just canât make it click, you know?â
Heâs scribbling something down, his brow furrowed in concentration. âOkay. Yeah, I can definitely help with that. I tutor that class a lot, actually.â
âReally?â You lean forward slightly, resting your chin in your hand. âYouâre a lifesaver. I was seriously worried I was going to fail.â
His eyes flicker to you again, and you can see him trying very hard not to stare. Itâs almost endearing, the way heâs fighting to keep his focus on his notebook.
âSo, um,â he says, clearing his throat. âWhen works for you? I usually do sessions twice a week, an hour each.â
âWhatever works for you,â you say easily. âIâm pretty flexible.â
He checks his phone, scrolling through what looks like a calendar. âHow about⊠Tuesdays and Thursdays? 5 PM?â
âPerfect.â You pull out your own phone, typing in the times. âShould I meet you here?â
âYeah, hereâs good.â He looks up at you, and for a moment, youâre struck by how dark his eyes are behind those glasses. âCan I get your name? For my schedule.â
You tell him, and he types it into his phone, his fingers quick and precise.
âGot it,â he says, offering you a small, polite smile. âIâll see you tomorrow, then.â
âLooking forward to it.â You stand, slinging your bag over your shoulder, and give him a little wave. âThanks, Sunghoon.â
His blush deepens at the sound of his name, and you have to bite back a grin as you walk away. This is going to be easier than you thought.
You show up to the library on Tuesday at 4:55 PM, which is late enough to seem casual but early enough to seem eager. Youâve dressed down slightly from yesterdayâa fitted long-sleeve shirt that still manages to show off your figure, paired with jeans that sit low on your hips. Still hot, but approachable. Youâre playing a character here, and the character is a girl whoâs struggling with statistics and needs help, not a girl whoâs about to ruin someoneâs life for two hundred dollars.
The guilt hasnât hit yet. Right now, itâs still just a game.
Sunghoon is already at the same table by the windows, his laptop open and a thermos of what you assume is coffee beside him. He looks up when you approach, and you catch the tiniest flicker of surprise in his expression, like he half-expected you not to show.
âHi,â you say, dropping your bag onto the table and sliding into the seat across from him.
âHi.â He closes his laptop and pushes it aside, pulling out a notebook instead. âReady to get started?â
âAs ready as Iâll ever be,â you say with a self-deprecating laugh. âFair warning, Iâm really bad at this.â
âThatâs okay,â he says, and thereâs something unexpectedly kind in his voice. âEveryone starts somewhere. Can you show me what youâre working on in class right now?â
You pull out your own notebookâyouâd actually done some prep work last night, writing out problem sets from the STAT 400 syllabus you still have saved on your laptop. Youâd deliberately gotten some of them wrong, made your handwriting a little messier than usual, added some confused notes in the margins. It has to look real.
Sunghoon takes the notebook and studies your work, his brow furrowing in concentration. His fingers tap against the edge of the paper, a nervous habit, and you notice that his nails are neatly trimmed, his hands surprisingly elegant for someone so awkward.
âOkay,â he says after a moment. âI see whatâs happening here. Youâre getting tripped up on the notation, I think. The concepts arenât that complicated once you understand what the symbols actually mean.â
He flips to a blank page in your notebook and starts writing, his handwriting neat and precise. As he explains the basics of probability distributions, you force yourself to pay attention, nodding along and asking questions that someone whoâs actually confused would ask.
âDoes that make sense?â he asks after a few minutes, glancing up at you.
âI think so,â you say. âCan you go over that last part again?â
He does, patient and thorough, and you notice the way he relaxes slightly when heâs teaching. The nervousness fades, replaced by something that almost resembles confidence. This is where heâs comfortableâexplaining things, breaking down complex ideas into manageable pieces.
Itâs⊠not what you expected.
Youâd thought this would be painful, sitting through tutoring sessions for a class you donât need help with. But Sunghoon is actually a good teacher, and thereâs something almost soothing about the way he talks through problems, his voice low and steady.
âTry this one,â he says, sliding the notebook back to you with a new problem written out.
You make a show of working through it, deliberately hesitating in places, second-guessing yourself. When you write down the final answerâwhich you know is correctâyou look up at him uncertainly.
âIs that right?â
He checks your work, and a small smile crosses his face. âYeah. Thatâs perfect.â
The praise shouldnât feel as good as it does.
âReally?â You let yourself sound surprised, pleased.
âReally. Youâre getting it faster than you think.â
You beam at him, and his cheeks flush pink again. He looks away quickly, clearing his throat.
âLetâs do a few more,â he says.
The hour passes faster than you expected. By the time Sunghoon checks his phone and announces that your session is up, youâre almost disappointed.
âSame time Thursday?â he asks, packing up his things.
âYeah, definitely.â You stand, slinging your bag over your shoulder. âThanks, Sunghoon. Youâre really good at this.â
âOh. Thanks.â He ducks his head, and you catch the small smile on his face as he turns away.
As you walk out of the library, you pull out your phone and text Mina.
Session one: complete. He blushed like four times.
Her response is immediate: youâre evil. i love it.
Thursdayâs session follows a similar pattern. You show up right on time, dressed in a crop top and high-waisted pants that make Sunghoonâs eyes widen for just a second before he forces his gaze back to his notebook. You work through more problems, ask more questions, let him guide you through concepts you already understand.
But this time, you start to push things slightly.
âGod, I donât know how you keep all of this straight in your head,â you say at one point, leaning back in your chair and stretching your arms above your head. The movement makes your shirt ride up slightly, exposing your stomach, and you donât miss the way Sunghoonâs gaze flickers down before he quickly looks away.
âItâs just practice,â he says, his voice a little strained. âOnce you do enough problems, it becomes automatic.â
âYou must be so smart,â you say, propping your chin in your hand and looking at him with wide, admiring eyes. âLike, seriously. I feel like Iâm barely keeping my head above water in most of my classes, and youâre just⊠breezing through everything.â
He shifts uncomfortably. âIâm not that smart. I just work hard.â
âDonât be modest.â You nudge his foot lightly under the table with yours, and he actually jumps a little. âYouâre like, a genius. Everyone says so.â
âIâm really not,â he insists, but you can see the pleased flush creeping up his neck.
You let it drop, returning your attention to the problems in front of you, but youâve planted the seed. Compliments, physical proximity, attentionâthese are the tools you know how to use.
Near the end of the session, as Sunghoon is explaining something about confidence intervals, you let your knee bump against his under the table. Itâs brief, could be an accident, but you see the way he falters mid-sentence, his train of thought derailing completely.
âSorry,â he says, blinking rapidly. âWhere was I?â
âConfidence intervals,â you prompt, biting back a smile.
âRight. Yeah.â He takes a deep breath and continues, but his voice is slightly shakier now.
When the session ends, you pack up slowly, deliberately taking your time.
âHey,â you say as heâs closing his laptop. âCan I ask you something?â
âSure.â
âWhy do you tutor? Like, I know itâs for credit or whatever, but youâre already so busy. Donât you ever just⊠want a break?â
He seems surprised by the question. âI donât know. I guess I like helping people. And itâs good practice for me, too. Explaining things helps me understand them better.â
âThatâs really nice,â you say, and youâre surprised to find that you actually mean it. âMost people wouldnât go out of their way like that.â
He shrugs, looking uncomfortable with the praise. âItâs not a big deal.â
âIt is, though.â You give him a warm smile. âAnyway. Thanks again. I actually feel like I might not fail this class now.â
âYouâre not going to fail,â he says firmly. âYouâre doing really well.â
Something about the conviction in his voice makes your chest tighten, but you push the feeling aside.
âSee you next week,â you say, heading toward the exit.
As you leave, you glance back and catch him watching you. He looks away immediately, his face flushing, and you canât help the satisfied smile that crosses your face.
This is almost too easy.
By the third week of tutoring, youâve established a routine. Tuesdays and Thursdays, 5 PM, the same table by the windows. Sunghoon is always there early, his materials already laid out, a thermos of coffee within reach. Youâve started to learn his habitsâthe way he taps his pen against the table when heâs thinking, the way he pushes his glasses up when heâs concentrating, the way he smiles when you get a problem right.
Youâve also started to push boundaries more deliberately.
You sit closer to him now, close enough that your arms brush when youâre both leaning over the same textbook. You ask him to show you how to work through problems on your laptop, which means he has to lean in close, his shoulder pressed against yours, his face inches from yours as he points at the screen.
Heâs still nervous, still awkward, but heâs getting more comfortable with you. He makes eye contact more often, laughs at your jokes, occasionally offers comments that arenât strictly about statistics.
âAre you going to the game on Saturday?â you ask during one session, glancing up from your notebook.
âGame?â He looks confused.
âThe basketball game. Against State.â
âOh. No, probably not. Thatâs not really my thing.â
âWhat is your thing?â you ask, genuinely curious despite yourself.
He thinks for a moment. âI donât know. I like hiking, I guess. And I play chess online sometimes.â
âHiking?â You raise an eyebrow. âI wouldnât have pegged you for the outdoorsy type.â
âWhy not?â Thereâs a hint of defensiveness in his voice.
âI donât know. You just seem like youâd rather be inside with a book.â
âI can like both,â he points out, and thereâs a glimmer of something in his eyesâamusement, maybe, or challenge.
âFair enough.â You grin. âMaybe you should take me sometime. I could use the exercise.â
His eyes widen. âOh. Uh. I mean, if you want. Thereâs a good trail about twenty minutes from campusââ
âIâm kidding,â you say quickly, laughing. âCan you imagine me hiking? Iâd die.â
âRight.â He laughs too, but it sounds slightly forced. âYeah.â
You almost feel bad for teasing him, but you push the feeling aside. This is the pointâkeep him off balance, make him think about you, wonder about you.
Later in the session, when youâre both bent over a particularly complicated problem, you reach out to point at something on the page. Your hand brushes against his, and you let it linger for just a second longer than necessary before pulling away.
âSorry,â you murmur.
âItâs fine,â he says, but his voice is tight, and when you glance at him, his jaw is clenched. Interesting.
After that session, as youâre walking back to your apartment, Mina calls.
âHowâs Operation Nerd going?â she asks immediately.
âGood,â you say. âHeâs definitely noticing me.â
âNoticing you, or noticing you?â
âBoth, I think.â You push open the door to your building, nodding at a couple of girls you recognize from a party last weekend. âHeâs still really awkward, but heâs warming up.â
âHave you guys hung out outside of tutoring yet?â
âNo. Iâm taking it slow.â
âSlow?â Mina sounds incredulous. âBabe, you have like eleven weeks left. You need to speed this up.â
âI know what Iâm doing,â you say, climbing the stairs to your floor. âIf I come on too strong, heâll get suspicious. Heâs not stupid.â
âFine, fine. Youâre the expert.â Thereâs a pause, and then: âAre you having fun, at least?â
The question catches you off guard. âWhat?â
âI mean, is this entertaining? Or is it just a chore?â
You think about the way Sunghoonâs face lights up when you get a problem right, the way he listens so intently when you talk, the way heâs slowly becoming less guarded around you.
âItâs fine,â you say eventually. âHeâs not as boring as I thought heâd be.â
âHigh praise,â Mina says dryly. âOkay, well, keep me updated. I want all the details.â
After you hang up, you find yourself thinking about the question. Are you having fun?
The honest answer is yes. You are. And that should probably worry you more than it does.
The following Tuesday, something shifts.
Youâre halfway through the session when Sunghoonâs phone buzzes. He glances at it, frowns, and then looks at you apologetically.
âSorry, do you mind if I take this? Itâs my friend.â
âGo ahead,â you say, waving him off.
He steps away from the table, phone pressed to his ear, and you watch as his expression shifts from confused to annoyed to resigned. When he comes back, heâs running a hand through his hair, making it stick up slightly.
âEverything okay?â you ask.
âYeah, sorry. That was Heeseung. Heâs having people over tonight and wanted to make sure Iâm coming.â
âAre you?â
âI guess. Heâll give me shit if I donât.â Sunghoon sits back down, but he seems distracted now, his usual focus scattered.
âYou donât sound excited,â you observe.
âParties arenât really my scene,â he admits. âToo loud, too crowded. I usually just end up standing in a corner wishing I was home.â
You laugh. âThen why go?â
âBecause Heeseung, Jake, and Jay are my friends, and they actually want me there. I think.â He says it like heâs not entirely sure, and something about that makes your chest ache.
âThey definitely want you there,â you say. âThose guys donât do pity invites.â
He looks at you, surprised. âYou know them?â
âEveryone knows them. We run in similar circles.â You lean back in your chair, studying him. âHowâd you end up friends with them, anyway? No offense, but youâre not exactly the typical crowd they hang out with.â
âWe lived in the same dorm freshman year,â Sunghoon says. âHeeseung and I got paired as roommates, and Jake and Jay lived down the hall. They kind of⊠adopted me, I guess. I donât really know why.â
âMaybe because youâre cool,â you suggest.
He snorts. âIâm definitely not cool.â
âYouâre cool in your own way.â
âThatâs a nice way of saying Iâm a nerd.â
âBeing a nerd isnât a bad thing,â you say. And then, before you can think better of it: âIâll be there tonight, probably. At Heeseungâs thing. Maybe Iâll see you.â
Sunghoonâs eyes widen slightly. âOh. Yeah. Maybe.â
The rest of the session is slightly stilted, both of you distracted by the knowledge that youâll be in the same place later, outside the safe confines of the library. When you pack up to leave, Sunghoon clears his throat.
âHey, um. Thanks. For saying that. About me being cool.â
You smile. âI meant it.â
And as you walk away, you realize with a start that you actually did.
Heeseungâs apartment is packed when you arrive just after ten, Mina in tow. The music is loud enough to make the walls vibrate, and the air is thick with the smell of beer and too many bodies in a small space.
âThis is going to be good,â Mina says, already scanning the room. âIs your nerd here yet?â
âDonât call him that,â you say automatically, and then catch yourself. Since when do you care?
Mina gives you a look but doesnât comment. âWell? Do you see him?â
You crane your neck, looking over the crowd, and finally spot Sunghoon near the kitchen. Heâs wearing jeans and a plain black t-shirtâthe most casual youâve ever seen himâand heâs talking to Jay, looking significantly less uncomfortable than youâd expected.
âThere,â you say, nodding toward him.
âOh my god, heâs actually kind of hot when heâs not dressed like someoneâs dad,â Mina says.
Sheâs not wrong. Without the button-ups and the overly neat hair, Sunghoon looks⊠different. Younger. More relaxed. And yeah, hot.
âIâm going over,â you say.
âGood luck,â Mina calls after you, already veering off toward the makeshift bar.
You weave through the crowd, dodging drunk dancers and people shouting over the music. When you reach the kitchen, you tap Sunghoon on the shoulder.
He turns, and his face lights up when he sees you.
âYou came,â he says, and he sounds genuinely happy about it.
âI said I might,â you reply, grinning. âHi, Jay.â
Jay gives you an appreciative once-overâyouâre wearing a tiny black dress that leaves very little to the imaginationâand nods. âHey. You two know each other?â
âSunghoonâs my tutor,â you say.
âTutor?â Jay looks at Sunghoon with mock suspicion. âYou didnât tell me you were tutoring hot girls.â
Sunghoonâs face goes red. âItâs notâshe needed help with statsââ
âIâm just giving you shit,â Jay says, clapping him on the shoulder. âIâm gonna go find Jake. You two have fun.â
He disappears into the crowd, leaving you and Sunghoon alone in the relative chaos of the kitchen.
âWant a drink?â you ask, already moving toward the counter where someoneâs set up a chaotic array of bottles and mixers.
âIâm okay,â Sunghoon says, holding up a bottle of water.
âOf course you are.â You pour yourself something strong, turning back to him. âSo. How are you surviving so far?â
âItâs not as bad as I thought it would be,â he admits. âMaybe because youâre here.â
The comment catches you off guard. Itâs surprisingly bold for him, and when you meet his eyes, thereâs something there you havenât seen beforeâa flicker of confidence, maybe, or just the tiniest bit of flirtation.
âSmooth,â you say, taking a sip of your drink.
He looks immediately mortified. âSorry, that wasââ
âIâm kidding. It was sweet.â You step closer to him, close enough that you have to tilt your head back slightly to maintain eye contact. âYou should let yourself relax more often. Youâre less uptight when you do.â
âIâm uptight?â He sounds offended.
âA little,â you tease. âBut itâs part of your charm.â
Before he can respond, someone cranks the music even louder, and the kitchen suddenly floods with people trying to escape the living room. Youâre jostled forward, and Sunghoon reaches out instinctively to steady you, his hands landing on your waist.
For a moment, youâre pressed against him, close enough to feel the heat of his body, to see the way his pupils dilate slightly behind his glasses.
âSorry,â he says, but he doesnât let go immediately.
âItâs okay,â you murmur.
The moment stretches, tension coiling between you, and you realize with a jolt that your heart is beating faster. Not because youâre playing a role, but because heâs looking at you like youâre the only person in the room, and it feelsâŠ
It feels good.
âDo you want to go somewhere quieter?â he asks, his voice low.
You nod.
He takes your handâhis grip warm and surprisingly steadyâand leads you out of the kitchen, through the crowd, and out onto the apartmentâs small balcony. The noise fades to a dull roar as he slides the door shut behind you, and suddenly itâs just the two of you under the night sky.
âBetter?â he asks.
âMuch.â You lean against the railing, looking out at the campus spread below. âThanks.â
âNo problem.â He stands beside you, close but not touching, and for a few moments, neither of you speaks.
âCan I ask you something?â he says eventually.
âSure.â
âWhy did you come tonight? You said parties are your thing, so you probably had other options.â
You turn to look at him. âMaybe I wanted to see you.â
His breath catches. âReally?â
âReally.â Youâre not sure if youâre lying anymore.
Sunghoon holds your gaze, and something shifts in the air between you. He takes a step closer, and your pulse spikes.
âIâm glad youâre here,â he says softly.
âMe too,â you whisper.
And when he smilesâa real, genuine smile that makes his whole face light upâyou feel something crack open in your chest.
This was supposed to be simple. Easy. A game.
But standing here with him, the city lights glittering below and his hand just inches from yours on the railing, youâre starting to realize that you might be in over your head.
Sunghoon is already at your usual table, but today thereâs something different. Instead of his typical setup of laptop and textbooks, thereâs a white paper bag and two coffee cups.
âHi,â he says when you approach, and he looks almost nervous. âI, uh. I brought coffee. And pastries. I wasnât sure what you liked, so I just guessed. I hope thatâs okay.â
You stare at the cups, something warm and unfamiliar blooming in your chest. âYou brought me coffee?â
âYeah. You mentioned last week that you didnât have time to grab any before our session, so I thoughtâŠâ He trails off, rubbing the back of his neck. âIs that weird? Thatâs probably weird.â
âItâs not weird,â you say softly, sliding into your seat. âItâs really sweet.â
His face lights up, and he pushes one of the cups toward you. âItâs a vanilla latte. But if you donât like it, I canââ
âVanilla latte is perfect.â You take a sip, and itâs exactly the right temperature, exactly the right sweetness. âThank you, Sunghoon.â
âYouâre welcome.â Heâs smiling now, that soft genuine smile that makes your heart do stupid things.
The session proceeds normallyâproblem sets, explanations, the comfortable back-and-forth youâve developedâbut the coffee and pastries feel like something more. Like heâs trying to take care of you in his own quiet way.
Halfway through, while youâre working on a problem, Sunghoon speaks up.
âCan I ask you something?â
âSure,â you say, not looking up from your notebook.
âWhy economics?â
You pause, pen hovering over the page. âWhat?â
âYour major. Why did you choose economics?â
No one has asked you that in a long time. Most people just assume you picked it because itâs practical, or because you wanted something that would make money, or because you didnât know what else to do.
âI like understanding how things work,â you say slowly. âLike, why people make the decisions they make. What drives markets, what causes crashes, all of that. Itâs like⊠a puzzle, I guess. And Iâm good at puzzles.â
Sunghoon is looking at you with this intense focus, like heâs genuinely interested in your answer. âThatâs really cool.â
âYeah?â You feel oddly vulnerable suddenly.
âYeah. Most people just say itâs for the money.â
âI mean, the money doesnât hurt,â you joke, but it falls flat.
âI get it, though,â he says. âThatâs kind of why I like statistics. Everything can be understood if you have enough data. The world makes sense when you can quantify it.â
You find yourself smiling. âWeâre more similar than I thought.â
âIs that surprising?â
âA little,â you admit. âI thought youâd be all⊠I donât know. Textbooks and equations and no personality.â
He laughs, a real laugh that makes his eyes crinkle. âWow. Thanks.â
âI didnât mean it like that!â Youâre laughing too now. âI just meantâyouâre not what I expected.â
âWhat did you expect?â
âI donât know. Boring? Uptight? But youâre actuallyâŠâ You pause, searching for the right word. âYouâre actually really easy to talk to.â
Sunghoonâs expression softens. âSo are you.â
The moment hangs between you, charged with something you canât quite name. Youâre suddenly very aware of how close youâre sitting, how his knee is almost touching yours under the table, how easy it would be to just lean forward andâ
Your phone buzzes, shattering the moment. Itâs a text from Mina: party at sigma chi friday. you coming?
You type back a quick yeah probably and set your phone down, but the spell is broken. Sunghoon has already returned his attention to the textbook, his expression neutral.
The rest of the session passes normally, but something has changed. Thereâs a weight in the air now, a tension that wasnât there before.
When youâre packing up to leave, Sunghoon clears his throat.
âHey, um. Are you doing anything this weekend?â
Your heart skips. âWhy?â
âThereâs this new exhibit at the art museum. Photography from conflict zones. I thought it might be interesting, and I was wondering if⊠if maybe you wanted to go? With me?â
Heâs asking you on a date. Park Sunghoon is asking you on an actual date.
You should say yes. This is perfect for the betâspending time together outside of tutoring, building a connection, making him fall harder.
But the thought of it makes your stomach twist with something that feels uncomfortably like guilt.
âI canât this weekend,â you say, and youâre not sure if youâre relieved or disappointed. âI have plans with friends.â
âOh.â He tries to hide his disappointment, but you can see it in the way his shoulders slump slightly. âThatâs okay. Maybe another time.â
âYeah,â you say. âAnother time.â
As you walk away, you can feel his eyes on your back, and you hate yourself a little bit.
Friday night comes, and youâre at the Sigma Chi house with Mina, three drinks deep and feeling reckless.
The party is packed, bodies pressed together in every room, music so loud you can feel it in your bones. Youâre wearing your sluttiest dressâa tiny red thing that barely covers your assâand you know you look good because youâve been turning heads all night.
âThereâs Jake,â Mina says, pointing toward the kitchen. âWith Heeseung and Jay.â
âSo?â you say, taking another sip of your drink.
âSo, isnât that Sunghoonâs friend group? Maybe heâs here.â
You scan the kitchen, but you donât see Sunghoon anywhere. Just his three friends, laughing and drinking and looking effortlessly cool in a way Sunghoon never quite manages.
âI donât think heâs here,â you say.
âProbably for the best,â Mina says. âYou can actually have fun without worrying about the bet.â
But thatâs the problem. Youâre starting to realize that you have more fun with Sunghoon than without him.
You push the thought away and drain your drink. âI need another.â
The next hour is a blur of alcohol and dancing and the kind of mindless fun you usually thrive on. You dance with strangers, do shots with girls from your econ class, lose Mina somewhere in the crowd. And then Jake finds you.
âHey,â he says, appearing at your elbow with that easy smile. âYou look like youâre having a good time.â
âI am,â you say, and you realize you have to raise your voice to be heard over the music.
âWant to get some air? Itâs hot as hell in here.â
You follow him out to the back porch, where itâs marginally quieter and cooler. There are a few other people out here, smoking and talking in low voices, but Jake leads you to a corner thatâs relatively private.
âBetter?â he asks.
âMuch.â You lean against the railing, looking up at him. Jake is attractive in an obvious wayâtall, athletic build, sharp jawline. The kind of guy youâd normally go for without thinking twice.
âIâve seen you around,â Jake says, moving closer. âYouâre hard to miss.â
âIs that a compliment?â
âDefinitely.â His gaze drops to your lips, then back up. âYouâre friends with Sunghoon, right?â
The mention of Sunghoonâs name sends a jolt through you. âHeâs tutoring me.â
âThatâs all?â
âWhat else would it be?â
Jake shrugs. âI donât know. He talks about you a lot.â
Your heart stutters. âHe does?â
âYeah. He tries to be subtle about it, but itâs pretty obvious heâs into you.â Jake grins. âCanât blame him.â
You should ask what Sunghoon says about you. You should care more about the implications.
But youâre drunk and Jake is hot and heâs leaning in, and when his lips meet yours, you donât pull away.
The kiss is goodâhe knows what heâs doing, his hands confident on your waistâbut it feels wrong somehow. Like youâre kissing the wrong person. When you break apart, Jake is smiling.
âWant to get out of here?â
âIââ
âThere you are!â
You turn to see Mina stumbling out onto the porch, clearly wasted. âIâve been looking everywhere for you. We need to go. Now.â
âWhat? Why?â
âBecause Iâm about to throw up and I need you to hold my hair.â She grabs your arm, pulling you away from Jake. âSorry, Jake. Emergency.â
You let her drag you back through the party and out the front door, and itâs only when youâre halfway back to your apartment that you realize youâre relieved.
âDid I really interrupt something?â Mina asks, her words slurring slightly.
âNothing important,â you say.
âLiar. That was Jake. Heâs hot.â
âYeah.â
âSo why do you sound sad about it?â
You donât have an answer.
Saturday morning, you wake up with a pounding headache and a feeling of vague dread that has nothing to do with the hangover.
You kissed Jake. Sunghoonâs friend. One of his only friends.
It shouldnât matter. This is a bet. Youâre not actually dating Sunghoon. You donât owe him anything.
But the guilt sits heavy in your stomach anyway.
Your phone buzzes with a text from Sunghoon: Hey! I know you said you were busy this weekend, but if you have any free time tomorrow (Sunday), Iâd love to show you that trail I mentioned. No pressure though!
You stare at the message for a long moment.
You should say no. You should keep your distance, maintain the boundaries of this fake tutoring relationship.
But instead, you type: Sure. What time?
His response is almost immediate: 10 AM? I can pick you up.
Sounds good.
You set your phone down and bury your face in your pillow, trying to ignore the voice in your head thatâs asking what the hell youâre doing.
Sunday morning dawns clear and bright, and you find yourself actually putting effort into your outfitâathletic leggings, a fitted tank top, your hair pulled back in a high ponytail. Hiking clothes, but still cute.
Sunghoon picks you up at exactly 10 AM in a slightly beat-up Honda Civic thatâs meticulously clean inside. Heâs wearing athletic gear too, and without his glassesâheâs wearing contacts, he explainsâhe looks different. Younger. Even more attractive.
âYou ready?â he asks as you buckle your seatbelt.
âAs ready as Iâll ever be. Fair warning, I havenât hiked since high school.â
âItâs an easy trail,â he assures you. âMore of a nature walk, really.â
The drive takes about twenty minutes, filled with easy conversation and music from a playlist thatâs surprisingly goodâindie rock mixed with some Korean R&B. You learn that Sunghoon is an only child, that he grew up in a small town, that his parents are both engineers and have very high expectations for him.
âIs that why you work so hard?â you ask. âBecause of them?â
âPartly,â he admits. âBut also because I donât really know what else to do. School is the one thing Iâm actually good at.â
âThatâs not true. Youâre good at lots of things.â
âLike what?â
âYouâre a good teacher. Youâre patient, you actually listen, you explain things in a way that makes sense. Thatâs a skill.â
He glances at you, surprised. âThanks. That means a lot.â
When you arrive at the trailhead, itâs not crowdedâjust a few other cars in the small parking lot. Sunghoon grabs a backpack from the trunk, and you start walking.
He was right about it being an easy trail. The path is well-maintained and mostly flat, winding through trees that are just starting to show their fall colors. Itâs beautiful in a quiet, understated way.
âI come here when I need to think,â Sunghoon says as you walk. âItâs peaceful.â
âWhat do you think about?â
âEverything. School, the future, whether Iâm making the right choices.â He pauses. âSometimes I feel like Iâm on this path that was decided for me, you know? Like, Iâm going to graduate, get a good job, make my parents proud. But Iâm not sure if itâs what I actually want.â
Youâre surprised by the honesty. âWhat do you want?â
âI donât know. Thatâs the problem.â He looks at you. âWhat about you? Do you know what you want?â
The question catches you off guard. What do you want?
A month ago, you would have said you wanted to graduate, make money, have fun. Simple things.
But now, standing here with Sunghoon, you realize you donât know anymore.
âIâm figuring it out,â you say finally.
You walk in comfortable silence for a while, and then Sunghoon leads you off the main path to a clearing that overlooks a small lake. The view is stunningâwater glittering in the sunlight, trees reflected on the surface.
âWow,â you breathe.
âRight?â He sits down on a large flat rock near the edge of the clearing, and you join him. âI found this spot last year. I donât think many people know about it.â
âItâs beautiful.â
He pulls out his backpack and produces two bottles of water and some trail mix. âSnack break.â
You laugh. âYou really came prepared.â
âI try.â
As you sit there, eating trail mix and looking out at the lake, you feel something loosen in your chest. This is nice. Simple. Real.
âCan I tell you something?â Sunghoon says after a while.
âOf course.â
âIâm really glad you agreed to come today. I know tutoring is our thing, but I wantedâŠâ He trails off, looking uncertain. âI wanted to spend time with you outside of that. As friends. Or, I donât know. Whatever this is.â
Your heart is pounding. âWhatever this is?â
He turns to face you fully. âI like you. I know thatâs probably obvious, and Iâm sorry if that makes things weird, but I canât stop thinking about you, and I thought maybeââ
You kiss him.
Youâre not sure why you do it. Maybe because of the way heâs looking at you, so open and vulnerable. Maybe because you want to stop him from saying more things that will make you feel guilty. Maybe because youâve been wanting to kiss him for weeks and youâre tired of pretending otherwise.
Whatever the reason, you lean in and press your lips to his, and for a moment, he freezes.
Then heâs kissing you back, tentative at first and then deeper, his hand coming up to cup your face. His lips are soft, and he tastes like trail mix and mint gum, and itâs goodâbetter than it should be, better than kissing Jake, better than anything you expected.
When you finally pull away, youâre both breathing hard.
âWow,â he says softly.
âYeah,â you whisper.
âDoes this meanâŠ?â
âI donât know what this means,â you say honestly. âBut I like you too. I think.â
He smiles, bright and genuine, and pulls you in for another kiss.
You lose track of time there by the lake, kissing Sunghoon like teenagers, his hands respectful but wanting, your fingers tangled in his hair. It feels right in a way that scares you.
When you finally break apart for real, the sun has shifted position, and you realize youâve been here for over an hour.
âWe should probably head back,â Sunghoon says reluctantly.
âYeah.â
The hike back to the car is different from the hike out. Sunghoon holds your hand the entire way, his grip warm and steady, and you canât stop smiling.
This wasnât part of the plan. You werenât supposed to actually like him.
But as he helps you into the car and leans over to kiss you one more time before closing the door, you realize youâre completely screwed.
That night, lying in bed, you finally respond to Minaâs texts.
howâs the bet going?
You stare at the message for a long time before typing: Good. Heâs definitely into me.
perfect. keep it up. easy money.
Yeah. Easy money.
But it doesnât feel easy anymore.
The following week, everything changes.
Your tutoring sessions become something moreâstudy dates, really, where you spend as much time talking and laughing as you do working through problems. Sunghoon brings you coffee every time now, always remembering exactly how you like it. You find excuses to touch him, and he finds excuses to touch you backâa hand on your shoulder, fingers brushing when you pass papers back and forth.
On Thursday, after your session ends, he walks you back to your apartment. Itâs out of his way, and you both know it, but neither of you mentions it.
At your door, he kisses you goodbye, slow and sweet, and you have to physically stop yourself from inviting him inside.
âIâll see you next week,â he says, his forehead resting against yours.
âThatâs so far away,â you murmur, and youâre surprised to find that you mean it.
âWe could⊠do something over the weekend?â he suggests. âIf you want.â
âLike what?â
âThereâs a film festival on Saturday. Foreign films. Probably boring to most people, butââ
âIâd love to,â you interrupt.
His face lights up. âReally?â
âReally.â
He kisses you again, deeper this time, and you feel yourself melting into him.
When he finally leaves, you float into your apartment in a daze. Jiwoo takes one look at your face and grins.
âOh, youâve got it bad,â she says.
âShut up,â you say, but you canât stop smiling.
That night, youâre lying in bed scrolling through your phone when you see a post on Jakeâs Instagram story. Itâs from the Sigma Chi partyâa blurry photo of the crowd with the caption good times.
And suddenly you remember. The kiss. Jake.
Your stomach drops.
You need to tell Sunghoon. You should tell him before he hears it from someone else, before it becomes a thing.
But how do you explain that you kissed his friend while you were⊠what? Were you dating him then? Are you dating him now? You never actually defined what this is.
You open your messages with Sunghoon, type out Can we talk? and then delete it.
This is fine. It was one kiss, weeks ago, before you and Sunghoon were actually together. It doesnât mean anything.
Except it does mean something, because it means you were pursuing the bet. And if Sunghoon ever found out about the betâŠ
You close your phone and stare at the ceiling, your earlier happiness curdling into anxiety.
What the hell have you gotten yourself into?
Saturday arrives, and you meet Sunghoon at the small independent theater on the edge of campus. Heâs dressed nicelyâdark jeans and a fitted sweater that makes him look older, more sophisticated. When he sees you, his entire face transforms with his smile.
âHi,â he says, pulling you in for a kiss that makes your toes curl.
âHi yourself.â
The film festival is showing three movies back-to-back, and you settle into your seats with a large popcorn between you. The first film is French, subtitled, about a woman navigating love and loss in Paris. Itâs beautiful and melancholy, and halfway through, Sunghoon reaches over and takes your hand.
During the second filmâa Japanese drama about familyâyou rest your head on his shoulder, and he wraps his arm around you. It feels domestic and comfortable and utterly terrifying.
By the third film, youâre barely paying attention to the screen. All you can focus on is the warmth of Sunghoonâs body next to yours, the way his thumb traces patterns on your shoulder, the way he occasionally leans down to whisper commentary that makes you laugh.
When the festival ends and you step out into the evening air, you feel drunk on happiness and caffeine from the terrible theater coffee.
âThat was amazing,â you say.
âYeah?â Sunghoon looks pleased. âI wasnât sure if it was too pretentious.â
âIt was exactly pretentious enough.â You loop your arm through his as you walk. âThank you for inviting me.â
âThank you for coming. I know itâs not exactly a typical date.â
âWho says I want typical?â
He grins and pulls you close, kissing you in the middle of the sidewalk like youâre the only two people in the world.
You end up at a small cafe nearby, ordering hot chocolates and splitting a piece of chocolate cake. The conversation flows easilyâhe tells you about his thesis project, you tell him about your internship applications, and somehow you end up talking about childhood dreams and fears and all the small details that make up a life.
âI wanted to be an astronaut when I was a kid,â Sunghoon admits. âI was obsessed with space.â
âWhat changed?â
âI realized I get motion sickness really easily.â He laughs. âNot exactly ideal for space travel.â
âThatâs tragic.â
âWhat about you? What did you want to be?â
You think back. âA lawyer, I think. I liked arguing.â
âThat tracks.â
You kick him lightly under the table, and he catches your foot between his, holding it there.
The cafe starts to close, and reluctantly, you both leave. Sunghoon walks you home again, and at your door, the goodbye kiss turns into several goodbye kisses, which turn into you pressed against the door with his body flush against yours.
âDo you want to come inside?â you breathe against his lips.
He pulls back slightly, his eyes dark. âAre you sure?â
âIâm sure.â
You unlock the door and pull him inside, grateful that Jiwoo is gone for the weekend. The apartment is dark and quiet, and you lead Sunghoon to your bedroom, your heart pounding.
Inside, you turn to face him, suddenly nervous. This feels different than all the other times youâve done this with other guys. This feels like it matters.
âHey,â Sunghoon says softly, stepping closer. âWe donât have to do anything youâre not ready for.â
âI want to,â you say. âI want you.â
He kisses you then, slow and deep, walking you backward until your legs hit the bed. You fall together, a tangle of limbs and breathless laughter, and as he hovers over you, looking down with so much want and tenderness that it makes your chest ache, you think: Iâm in so much trouble.
But you push the thought away and pull him down into another kiss, losing yourself in the feeling of his hands on your skin, his mouth on your neck, the weight of him above you.
When you pull him inside your bedroom, the air between you feels electric. Sunghoonâs hands are tentative at first, skimming over your waist like heâs afraid you might disappear.
âIs this okay?â he asks, his voice low and rough in a way youâd never heard before.
âMore than okay,â you whisper, reaching up to pull him into another kiss.
That seems to break something loose in him. His kisses become deeper, more urgent, his hands more confident as they explore. You pull at his sweater, and he breaks away just long enough to tug it over his head.
Youâve never seen him like thisâshirtless, his body leaner than you expected but defined, his chest rising and falling rapidly. Your hands find his skin, tracing the lines of his shoulders, his ribs, and he shivers under your touch.
âYouâre so beautiful,â he murmurs against your neck, his lips trailing down to your collarbone. âIâve thought about this so many times.â
The admission sends heat pooling in your stomach. âYeah?â
âYeah.â His hands find the hem of your shirt, and he looks up at you, waiting for permission.
You answer by pulling it off yourself, and his eyes go dark with want.
âFuck,â he breathes, and the curse sounds foreign in his mouth, which somehow makes it hotter.
His hands cup your breasts through your bra, and you arch into his touch, a soft moan escaping your lips. He kisses down your sternum, your stomach, his fingers hooking into the waistband of your jeans.
âCan I?â he asks, looking up at you.
âPlease.â
He unbuttons your jeans slowly, reverently, sliding them down your legs along with your underwear. When you are finally bare before him, he sat back on his heels just looking at you, and you feel genuinely seen in a way that should have made you self-conscious but instead makes you feel powerful.
âYouâre staring,â you say, but is no bite to it.
âCanât help it.â He leans down to kiss you again, his body presses against yours, and you can feel how hard he is through his jeans.
Your hands go to his belt, fumbling with the buckle until he helps you, kicking off his jeans and boxers in one motion. And then there was nothing between you, just skin on skin, his weight pressing you into the mattress in the best way.
âDo you haveâŠ?â he starts.
âNightstand,â you gasp. âTop drawer.â
He reaches over, finds a condom, and you watch as he rolls it on with shaking hands. When he settles back over you, positioning himself between your legs, he pauses.
âTell me if anything doesnât feel good,â he said, his eyes searching yours.
âI will. I promise.â
He pushes into you slowly, carefully, and you both groan at the sensation. He fills you perfectly, and when heâs fully seated inside you, he drops his forehead to yours, breathing hard.
âOkay?â he manages.
âSo okay,â you whisper. âMove. Please move.â
He did, starting with slow, deep strokes that have you gasping and clutching at his shoulders. His technique was unpracticed but enthusiastic, and when you shift your hips to find the angle you need, he paid attention, adjusting immediately.
âLike that,â you breathe. âRight there.â
âHere?â He hits the spot again, harder this time, and you cry out.
âYes, fuck, yes.â
He set a rhythm then, his hips snapping against yours, one hand braced beside your head and the other gripping your hip hard enough to leave marks. You wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him deeper, and the sounds he makesâlow groans and whispered cursesâwere pushing you closer to the edge.
âYou feel so good,â he pants against your neck. âSo fucking good.â
Your nails rake down his back, and he hisses, his rhythm faltering for a moment before he regains control. You can feel yourself getting close, that familiar tension building low in your belly.
âTouch yourself,â he says, his voice strained. âI want to feel you come.â
The command sends a shock of heat through you. You slide your hand between your bodies, finding your clit and rubbing in tight circles. The added stimulation combined with the feeling of him inside you is too much.
âSunghoon,â you gasp. âIâmââ
âCome for me,â he says, and thatâs it.
Your orgasm hits you like a wave, your body tensing and shaking as pleasure rolls through you. You feel yourself clenching around him, and he groans, his movements becoming erratic.
âFuck, Iâmââ He doesnât finish the sentence, just buries himself deep and comes with a broken moan, his body shuddering against yours.
For a long moment, neither of you moved, both of you catching your breath. Then he carefully pulled out, disposed of the condom, and collapsed beside you, immediately pulling you into his arms.
âThat wasâŠâ he started.
âYeah,â you agreed, your voice still shaky.
He pressed a kiss to your forehead, your temple, your lips. âYouâre amazing.â
And lying there in his arms, your body still humming with aftershocks, you feel something crack wide open in your chest. Something that feels dangerously close to real feelings.
Laterâmuch laterâyou lie tangled together in your sheets, Sunghoonâs arm wrapped around you, his breathing deep and even. You should feel satisfied, content.
Instead, you feel like youâre standing on the edge of a cliff, waiting to fall.
You wake up to sunlight streaming through your window and the unfamiliar weight of someone else in your bed.
For a disorienting moment, you forget where you are, who youâre with. Then Sunghoon shifts beside you, his arm tightening around your waist, and everything comes rushing back.
The film festival. The cafe. Bringing him back here. The sex.
Oh god, the sex.
Your face heats at the memory, and you bury it in the pillow. Sunghoon makes a soft noise in his sleep, nuzzling into your neck, and despite everythingâthe guilt, the confusion, the looming disaster of the betâyou canât help but smile.
âAre you awake?â His voice is rough with sleep, muffled against your skin.
âMaybe.â
He presses a kiss to your shoulder. âGood morning.â
âMorning.â You turn in his arms to face him, and heâs unfairly attractive like thisâhair messy, eyes soft, a small smile on his lips.
âHi,â he says.
âHi.â
He kisses you, slow and lazy, and you can feel him hardening against your thigh. Your body responds immediately, heat pooling low in your stomach, but before things can progress, his phone buzzes insistently on the nightstand.
He groans, breaking away to check it. âItâs Heeseung. He wants to know if Iâm alive.â
âAre you?â
âBarely.â He types out a quick response and sets the phone down. âI should probably go. I have a study group at noon.â
Disappointment lances through you, which is ridiculous. You just spent the entire night with him. âYeah, okay.â
âUnlessâŠâ He looks at you hopefully. âDo you want to get breakfast first? Thereâs that place near campus that does really good pancakes.â
You should say no. You should put some distance between you, figure out what the hell youâre doing.
But instead you say, âI love pancakes.â
The diner is busy with the Sunday morning crowd, but you manage to snag a booth near the back. Sunghoon orders a truly obscene amount of foodâpancakes, eggs, bacon, hash brownsâand you raise an eyebrow.
âWhat? Iâm hungry.â He grins. âLast night was⊠athletic.â
You kick him under the table, face flaming. âShut up.â
âIâm just saying.â His grin widens. âYouâre very⊠energetic.â
âOh my god, stop talking.â
But youâre laughing, and so is he, and when the food arrives, you end up stealing bites from his plate while he pretends to be offended.
Itâs domestic and easy and terrifying.
Halfway through the meal, Jake walks in with Heeseung and Jay. Your stomach drops.
Jake sees you first, and something flickers across his faceâsurprise, maybe, or understanding. Then heâs heading over with the other two in tow.
âSunghoon!â Heeseung says cheerfully, sliding into the booth beside him without asking. âYou never came home last night. We were worried.â
Jay smirks, looking between you and Sunghoon. âClearly not that worried.â
Sunghoonâs ears turn red. âWe were just⊠we went to the film festival and thenââ
âAnd then you stayed over,â Jake finishes, his eyes on you. Thereâs something unreadable in his expression.
âHi, Jake,â you say carefully.
âHey.â He slides in next to you, forcing you to scoot over. âLong time no see.â
âYeah.â
The tension is palpable, at least to you. Sunghoon seems oblivious, too busy fielding questions from Heeseung about the films, but Jake is looking at you like he knows something.
âSo you two are like, together now?â Heeseung asks bluntly.
Sunghoon glances at you, and thereâs vulnerability in his eyes. âI⊠we havenât really talked about it.â
âWeâre seeing each other,â you say, reaching over to lace your fingers with his. âRight?â
âRight.â His smile is so genuine it makes your chest ache.
âCute,â Jay says, stealing a piece of bacon from Sunghoonâs plate. âOur boyâs all grown up.â
âFuck off,â Sunghoon says, but heâs grinning.
The conversation shifts to other topicsâan upcoming game, someoneâs disastrous Tinder date, plans for Halloween. You mostly stay quiet, hyperaware of Jake beside you, wondering if heâs going to say something about the party. About the kiss.
But he doesnât. He just eats his food and makes jokes with the others, and when they finally leave, he gives you a long look that makes your stomach twist.
âHe knows,â you say once theyâre gone.
âKnows what?â Sunghoon asks, signaling for the check.
âNothing. Never mind.â
The next week passes in a blur of classes, tutoring sessions that turn into makeout sessions, and stolen moments in empty classrooms and dark corners of the library.
You canât keep your hands off each other. Itâs like a switch has been flipped, and now that youâve crossed that line, neither of you can go back.
On Tuesday, your âtutoring sessionâ lasts all of fifteen minutes before Sunghoon is pulling you into his lap, his mouth hot on your neck.
âWe should actually study,â you gasp, even as you grind down against him.
âWe should,â he agrees, not stopping.
You end up in the single-user bathroom on the third floor, Sunghoon pressing you against the door as he kisses you breathless. His hands are everywhereâyour waist, your hips, sliding up under your shirt to cup your breasts.
âGod, I canât stop thinking about you,â he breathes against your lips. âItâs affecting my grades.â
âLiar. Youâre incapable of getting bad grades.â
âWant to test that theory?â His hand slips between your legs, rubbing you through your jeans, and you bite back a moan.
âSomeone could hear.â
âThen youâll have to be quiet.â
He drops to his knees, and your brain short-circuits.
âSunghoon, what are youââ
âLet me,â he says, already unbuttoning your jeans. âPlease. Iâve been thinking about this all day.â
You should say no. Youâre in a public bathroom in the library. Anyone could walk by.
But then heâs pulling your jeans and underwear down, and his mouth is on you, and all rational thought flies out the window.
âOh fuck,â you breathe, your hands flying to his hair.
Heâs enthusiastic if not entirely skilled, his tongue exploring with scientific precision, trying to figure out what makes you gasp and moan. When he finds your clit and sucks lightly, your knees buckle.
âThere,â you manage. âRight there, donât stop.â
He doesnât. He works you with his mouth, his hands gripping your hips to hold you steady, and you have to bite down on your fist to keep from crying out. The knowledge that youâre doing this here, in public, with Sunghoon of all people on his knees for you, makes it even hotter.
You come embarrassingly quickly, your orgasm hitting you hard and sudden. Sunghoon works you through it, lapping at you until youâre shaking and oversensitive, and when he finally pulls away, his lips are shiny and his eyes are dark with lust.
âYou taste amazing,â he says, his voice wrecked.
You pull him up and kiss him hard, tasting yourself on his tongue. âYour place. Now.â
âI have a roommate.â
âMy place then.â
You somehow make it back to your apartment without attacking him in public, though itâs a close thing. The moment youâre through the door, youâre on him, pushing him toward your bedroom and stripping off his clothes.
âBed,â you command, and he goes willingly, lying back and watching as you undress.
When you straddle him, positioning yourself over his cock, he groans.
âCondom,â he manages.
âNightstand.â
He reaches over, fumbles with the drawer, and rolls one on with shaking hands. Then youâre sinking down onto him, both of you moaning at the sensation.
âFuck,â he breathes, his hands gripping your hips. âYou feel so good.â
You start to move, riding him slowly at first and then faster, chasing your pleasure. His hands roam your bodyâyour breasts, your stomach, your thighsâlike he canât decide where to touch you first.
âYouâre so beautiful like this,â he says, his eyes locked on you. âSo fucking beautiful.â
The praise sends heat through you, and you lean down to kiss him, your movements becoming erratic. He takes over then, thrusting up into you hard and fast, and the change in angle has you gasping.
âTouch yourself,â he says, echoing his words from last time. âI want to see you come again.â
You do, your fingers finding your clit, and the combination of his cock inside you and your own touch is too much. You come with a cry, your body clenching around him, and he follows a moment later with a groan, his hips stuttering.
You collapse on top of him, both of you breathing hard, and he wraps his arms around you.
âIâm never going to be able to concentrate in the library again,â he says, and you laugh into his chest.
Thursdayâs session is more of the same. You try to actually studyâyou really doâbut Sunghoon keeps looking at you with these heated glances, and his hand keeps finding your thigh under the table, and eventually you give up and suggest going back to his place.
His roommate is at class, and you have exactly ninety minutes before heâs back.
You make the most of it.
This time, youâre the one on your knees, learning what makes Sunghoon gasp and curse. Heâs bigger than you expected, and you take your time, using your tongue and lips and hands until heâs gripping the sheets and saying your name like a prayer.
âIâm close,â he warns, but you donât pull away.
When he comes, you swallow, and the look on his face is worth itâcomplete bliss mixed with awe.
âHoly shit,â he breathes. âThat wasâŠâ
âGood?â you ask, crawling up his body.
âUnderstatement of the century.â He pulls you in for a kiss, apparently not caring that you just had him in your mouth. âYour turn.â
âWe donât have timeââ
âWe have time.â
He proves it by going down on you again, this time with more confidence and skill. Heâs a fast learner, youâll give him that. He remembers exactly what you liked before, adding new tricks that have you squirming and begging.
When you come, itâs intense enough that you see stars, and Sunghoon looks so pleased with himself that you canât help but laugh.
âWhat?â he asks, grinning.
âNothing. Youâre just⊠youâre really into this.â
âInto making you feel good? Yeah, I am.â He kisses your inner thigh. âIs that weird?â
âNo. Itâs perfect.â
And it is perfect, which is the problem.
Because every moment with him feels more real, and every real moment makes the lie bigger.
That night, Mina corners you at a party at some frat house you donât remember the name of.
âOkay, what the fuck?â she demands, pulling you into a relatively quiet hallway. âYouâve been dodging my texts for two weeks.â
âIâve been busy.â
âToo busy to update me on the bet? Because from what Iâm hearing, you and Park Sunghoon are basically dating now.â She raises an eyebrow. âWhich is great for the bet, obviously, but youâve been weird about it.â
âI havenât been weird.â
âYouâre being weird right now. Whatâs going on?â
You take a long drink from your cup, buying time. âNothing. Itâs going fine. Heâs definitely into me.â
âAnd are you into him?â The question is pointed.
âItâs a bet, Mina. Of course Iâm not actuallyââ
âBullshit.â She crosses her arms. âIâve known you for three years. I can tell when youâre lying.â
âIâm notââ
âDo you actually like him?â
The question hangs in the air between you. You could lie. You should lie.
But youâre so tired of lying.
âI donât know,â you admit quietly. âMaybe.â
Minaâs expression softens. âBabeâŠâ
âI know. Iâm an idiot. This was supposed to be easy, and Iâm making it complicated.â
âSo end the bet. Just tell him the truth.â
âAnd say what? âHey, funny story, I only started talking to you because my friend bet me two hundred dollars that I couldnât make you fall for me, but surprise, I actually caught feelingsâ? Thatâll go over well.â
âBetter than him finding out some other way.â
âHeâs not going to find out.â
âJake knows.â Mina says it casually, but the words hit like a punch.
âWhat?â
âJake knows about the bet. He was there when I made it, remember? And heâs Sunghoonâs friend. You really think heâs not going to say something?â
Your stomach drops. âJake wouldnâtââ
âWouldnât he? You two hooked up at that party. And now youâre dating his friend. You donât think thatâs going to come up eventually?â
Panic rises in your throat. âWe didnât hook up. We just kissed.â
âDoes Sunghoon know that?â
âNo.â
âSo youâre keeping secrets on top of secrets. Great plan.â
âWhat do you want me to do, Mina?â Your voice comes out sharper than intended. âI canât unfuck this situation. Itâs already fucked.â
She sighs, her expression gentler now. âLook, Iâm not trying to be a bitch. Iâm worried about you. This isnât like you. You donât do feelings, you donât do relationships. And now youâre in this mess because I made a stupid bet. So Iâm giving you an out. Call it off. Keep your money. I donât care. Just⊠donât hurt him. And donât hurt yourself.â
âItâs not that simple.â
âIt could be.â
But she doesnât understand. Itâs not about the money anymore. Itâs not even about the bet.
Itâs about the fact that youâve built something real with Sunghoon, even if itâs built on a foundation of lies. And you donât know how to tell him the truth without destroying everything.
The next morning, you wake up to a text from Sunghoon: Canât stop thinking about yesterday. When can I see you again?
Despite everythingâthe guilt, the fear, the looming disasterâyou smile.
Tonight? My place?
Perfect. Iâll bring dinner.
You spend the day in a state of anxious anticipation. Part of you wants to cancel, to put some distance between you and figure out what to do. But a bigger part of you just wants to see him, to pretend for a little while longer that everything is okay.
He shows up at seven with Thai food and that soft smile that makes your heart hurt.
âHi,â he says, kissing you hello like itâs the most natural thing in the world.
âHi.â
You eat on your bed, cross-legged and trading bites of pad thai and spring rolls. Sunghoon tells you about his thesis advisor giving him shit for missing a meeting, and you tell him about your nightmare group project in your econometrics class.
Itâs domestic and comfortable and you wish you could freeze this moment forever.
After dinner, you end up tangled together, kissing lazily. His hands are under your shirt, yours in his hair, and itâs not urgent or desperateâjust sweet and slow.
âCan I ask you something?â Sunghoon says against your lips.
âMm?â
âAre we⊠I mean, I know we said weâre seeing each other, but are we like, exclusive? Because Iâd like to be. Exclusive, I mean. If you want.â
Your heart squeezes. âYou want to be my boyfriend?â
âYeah. I really do.â He pulls back to look at you, and thereâs such open honesty in his face that it makes you want to cry. âIs that okay?â
You should say no. You should end this before it gets worse.
But instead you kiss him hard and whisper, âYes. I want that too.â
His smile is brilliant, and he pulls you closer, deepening the kiss. Things heat up quickly after thatâclothes coming off, hands and mouths everywhere.
This time, Sunghoon takes his time. He kisses every inch of your skin, mapping your body with his lips and tongue. When he finally settles between your legs, he looks up at you with dark eyes.
âTell me what you want,â he says.
âYou. Just you.â
He works you with his mouth until youâre trembling and gasping, and when he finally pushes inside you, it feels different. More intimate. Like youâre not just fucking but making love, which is a thought that should terrify you but instead just makes you hold him tighter.
âIâm falling for you,â he breathes against your neck as he moves inside you. âI know itâs fast, but I canât help it.â
You should tell him the truth. Right now, in this moment, you should come clean.
But instead you just kiss him and whisper, âIâm falling for you too.â
And the worst part is, you mean it.
Later, after heâs fallen asleep, you lie awake staring at the ceiling.
Youâre in love with Park Sunghoon.
Youâre in love with the boy you were supposed to play, the bet you were supposed to win. And he loves you back, except he doesnât really love youâhe loves the version of you that youâve been pretending to be.
Or maybe he does love the real you. Maybe all the pretending has become real. Maybe thereâs no difference anymore.
Your phone buzzes with a text from Jake: We need to talk.
You stare at the message, your heart pounding.
Everything is about to fall apart. You can feel it.
And you have no idea how to stop it.
You meet Jake at a coffee shop off campus, somewhere youâre unlikely to run into anyone you know.
Heâs already there when you arrive, sitting in a corner booth with two cups of coffee in front of him. He slides one toward you as you sit down.
âVanilla latte,â he says. âI remembered from that party.â
âThanks.â You wrap your hands around the cup, more for something to do than because you actually want it.
For a moment, neither of you speaks. Jake studies you with an unreadable expression, and you force yourself to meet his gaze.
âSo,â he says finally. âYou and Sunghoon.â
âYeah.â
âHow long has that been going on?â
âA few weeks. Officially, I mean. Weâve been doing the tutoring thing for longer.â
Jake nods slowly. âHeâs really into you. Like, really into you. Iâve never seen him like this with anyone.â
Guilt twists in your stomach. âI know.â
âDoes he know about the bet?â
There it is. The question youâve been dreading.
âNo,â you say quietly.
âAre you going to tell him?â
âI donât know. Maybe. Eventually.â
âEventually,â Jake repeats, his tone flat. âSo youâre just going to keep lying to him?â
âItâs not that simpleââ
âIt actually is that simple.â He leans forward. âYou made a bet that you could make him fall for you. You did. Congratulations. Now either you tell him the truth, or you donât. But this middle ground where youâre pretending everythingâs fine? Thatâs fucked up.â
âYou think I donât know that?â Your voice comes out sharper than intended. âI know itâs fucked up. I know I should tell him. But how do I do that without destroying everything?â
âMaybe everything deserves to be destroyed if itâs built on a lie.â
The words hit harder than they should. You take a shaky breath. âWhy do you care so much? You barely know him.â
âHeâs my friend. And heâs a good guy. He doesnât deserve this.â Jake pauses. âAnd honestly? I donât think you deserve to hurt yourself like this either. I saw your face when youâre with him. Whatever started as a bet isnât a bet anymore. You actually care about him.â
âSo what do you want me to do?â
âTell him the truth. Before someone else does.â
Your blood runs cold. âAre you threatening me?â
âNo. Iâm warning you.â Jakeâs expression softens slightly. âLook, Iâm not going to tell him. Thatâs not my place. But Mina was drunk when she made that bet, and there were other people around. Someoneâs going to say something eventually. And itâs going to be a lot worse if he hears it from someone else.â
Heâs right. You know heâs right.
âIâll tell him,â you say. âI just⊠I need to find the right time.â
âDonât wait too long.â Jake stands, leaving his coffee untouched. âFor what itâs worth, I think heâd understand. Heâs not perfect either. None of us are. But he deserves honesty.â
After he leaves, you sit alone in the coffee shop for a long time, staring at your phone.
You pull up your messages with Sunghoon, dozens of texts full of inside jokes and sweet nothings. Then you scroll to Mina, her most recent message asking if you want to go out this weekend.
You type out three different messages to Sunghoonâvariations of âwe need to talkââand delete them all.
Tomorrow. Youâll tell him tomorrow.
But tomorrow comes and goes, and you donât tell him.
You tell yourself youâre waiting for the right moment, but the truth is youâre a coward. Every time youâre with him, you see how happy he is, how he looks at you like youâre the best thing thatâs ever happened to him, and you canât bring yourself to shatter that.
The week passes in a strange tension. On the surface, everything is perfect. You and Sunghoon are inseparableâstudying together, eating together, sleeping together. Heâs introduced you to his parents over video chat, and youâve started keeping a toothbrush at his place.
But underneath, youâre drowning in guilt and anxiety, waiting for the other shoe to drop.
It happens on Friday night.
Thereâs a Halloween party at one of the bigger fraternity houses, and everyone is going. Sunghoon isnât thrilled about itâheâs still not much of a party personâbut youâd promised youâd go together, and heâs trying.
Youâd put actual effort into your costumeâa devil, complete with red bodysuit, horns, and a tail. Sunghoon is dressed as an angel, which heâd been embarrassed about until you told him how hot he looked in all white.
âWeâre very on the nose,â he says as you walk to the party, his hand in yours.
âI think itâs cute. Heaven and hell, together at last.â
âIs that what we are?â He grins. âIâm corrupting you or youâre corrupting me?â
âDefinitely the second one.â
The party is already in full swing when you arrive, the house packed with people in various states of intoxication and costume creativity. You spot Mina almost immediatelyâsheâs dressed as a sexy nurse and is already drunk, dancing on a table with some guy from her marketing class.
âIâm going to get us drinks,â Sunghoon says, kissing your temple. âWant your usual?â
âYeah. Thanks.â
He disappears into the crowd, and you start making your way toward Mina. But before you can reach her, someone grabs your arm.
Itâs Jenna, a girl from your econometrics class. Youâve talked to her a few times, but you wouldnât call her a friend.
âOh my god, Iâve been looking for you!â Sheâs clearly drunk, her words slightly slurred. âI need to knowâis it true?â
âIs what true?â
âThe bet! With Park Sunghoon!â Sheâs practically shouting over the music. âMina told Sarah who told me that you made a bet you could make him fall for you. And oh my god, you guys are actually dating now? Thatâs hilarious. How much did you win?â
Your blood turns to ice.
âI donât know what youâre talking about,â you say, but your voice sounds wrong even to your own ears.
âCome on, donât be modest! Itâs genius, honestly. I mean, heâs such a nerd, it probably wasnât even that hardââ
âStop.â The word comes out harsh, cutting. âJust stop talking.â
Jenna blinks, taken aback. âWhoa, okay. I was justââ
But youâre not listening anymore. Youâre scanning the crowd frantically, looking for Sunghoon, praying heâs still in the kitchen getting drinks, praying he didnât hear any of that.
And then you see him.
Heâs standing about ten feet away, two cups in his hands, his face completely blank.
Your heart stops.
âSunghoonââ
But heâs already turning away, setting the cups down on the nearest surface and heading for the door.
âShit,â you breathe, pushing past Jenna and fighting your way through the crowd. âSunghoon, wait!â
You catch up to him outside, on the front lawn. Heâs walking fast, his shoulders tense, and when you grab his arm, he jerks away.
âDonât,â he says, his voice cold in a way youâve never heard before.
âPlease, just let me explainââ
âExplain what?â He whirls to face you, and the hurt in his eyes is devastating. âExplain how you made a bet that you could make me fall for you? Explain how this entire thing has been a lie?â
âItâs notâit wasnât all a lieââ
âHow much?â His voice cracks. âHow much did you win?â
âSunghoonââ
âHow much?â Heâs shouting now, and people are starting to stare.
âTwo hundred dollars,â you whisper. âBut I donât want it. I never wanted it. Thatâs not what this is about.â
He laughs, a bitter sound. âRight. So what is it about? Entertainment? Did you have fun? Watching the awkward nerd fall all over himself for you?â
âNo, itâs not like thatââ
âThen what is it like? Because from where Iâm standing, it looks like you played me. You pretended to need tutoring, pretended to be interested in me, pretended toââ His voice breaks. âDid you fake all of it? Every moment, every kiss, every time you said you cared about me?â
âNo!â Tears are streaming down your face now. âI didnât fake it. I swear, I didnât. It started as a bet, yes, but it became real. My feelings are real.â
âHow am I supposed to believe that?â Heâs crying too, and seeing him cry because of you is the worst thing youâve ever experienced. âHow am I supposed to believe anything you say when everything has been a lie?â
âBecause I love you,â you say desperately. âI love you, Sunghoon. Thatâs real. Thatâs the realest thing Iâve ever felt.â
For a moment, something flickers in his expressionâhope, maybe, or want. But then it hardens again.
âYou donât love me,â he says quietly. âYou donât even know me. Because if you did, if you cared about me at all, you wouldnât have done this. You wouldnât haveââ He stops, taking a shaky breath. âI need to go.â
âPlease donât leave. Let me explain properly, let meââ
âThereâs nothing to explain.â He takes a step back, putting distance between you. âYou made a bet. You won. Congratulations.â
âSunghoonââ
âI donât want to see you anymore. I donât want to talk to you. I just⊠I need you to leave me alone.â
And then heâs walking away, and youâre standing alone on the lawn in your stupid devil costume, crying so hard you can barely breathe.
Behind you, the party continues, oblivious to the fact that your entire world just imploded.
You donât remember getting home. One minute youâre on the lawn, the next youâre in your apartment, Minaâs arms around you while you sob into her shoulder.
âIâm so sorry,â she keeps saying. âIâm so, so sorry. I should never have made that stupid bet. This is my fault.â
But itâs not her fault. Itâs yours.
Youâre the one who accepted the bet. Youâre the one who lied. Youâre the one who kept lying even after you started developing real feelings.
Youâre the one who broke Park Sunghoonâs heart.
Your phone wonât stop buzzingâtexts from people at the party, from Jenna apologizing, from people you barely know asking if itâs true. You turn it off and curl up in bed, still in your costume, feeling like youâre suffocating.
âWhat do I do?â you ask Mina, your voice hoarse from crying.
âI donât know, babe. Give him time, maybe? Let him cool off, then try to talk to him again?â
âHe said he doesnât want to see me.â
âHeâs hurt. People say things they donât mean when theyâre hurt.â
But you saw his face. The betrayal, the devastation. That wasnât just hurt. That was something deeper.
Youâd made him believe someone could care about him, could see past the nerd label and the awkwardness and love him for who he is.
And then youâd proven that it was all an act.
âI ruined everything,â you whisper.
Mina doesnât argue.
The next morning, you wake up with a pounding headache and swollen eyes. Your phone is still off, and youâre afraid to turn it on.
But you force yourself to. You need to know how bad it is.
The damage is worse than you thought. There are dozens of messages, multiple group chats discussing the drama. Someone apparently recorded part of your argument with Sunghoon and posted it online. Your mentions are full of people calling you a bitch, a heartbreaker, cruel.
And theyâre not wrong.
You scroll through until you find messages from people who actually matter. Heeseung sent you a long text that essentially amounts to âwhat the fuck is wrong with you.â Jayâs is shorter but somehow more cutting: âHe really loved you. I hope it was worth it.â
Jakeâs is the one that makes you cry again: âI warned you. I hope you figure out how to make this right.â
Thereâs nothing from Sunghoon.
You open your conversation with him, looking at the last messages he sentâa string of heart emojis in response to a photo youâd sent of your costume. It was less than twelve hours ago, but it feels like a lifetime.
You type out a message: Iâm so sorry. I know you donât want to talk to me, but please, let me explain. What I said last night was true. I love you. I never meant to hurt you.
You stare at it for a long moment, then delete it.
Words arenât going to fix this. Nothing is going to fix this.
Youâve lost him.
And itâs entirely your own fault.
The first week without Sunghoon is the worst week of your life.
You stop going to parties. You can barely drag yourself to classes. Your carefully constructed social lifeâthe one where you were always the center of attention, always having fun, always in controlâcrumbles around you.
Because it turns out that when people know youâre capable of something that cruel, they look at you differently.
Mina tries her best to support you, but even she doesnât know what to say. She canceled the bet immediately, told you to keep your money, apologized a hundred times. But it doesnât change anything.
You avoid the library completely. You canât bear to walk past your usual table by the windows, canât bear to remember all those tutoring sessions that turned into something more. Your statistics homework sits untouchedâyou canât bring yourself to look at probability distributions without thinking of Sunghoonâs patient explanations, his neat handwriting, the way his face would light up when you got a problem right.
Your roommate Jiwoo walks on eggshells around you. She brings you food you donât eat, suggests watching movies you canât focus on, and eventually just sits with you in silence because thatâs all you can handle.
âYou need to get out of bed,â she says on day five, opening your curtains despite your protests. âYou havenât showered in two days. Youâre not eating. This isnât healthy.â
âI know.â
âSo get up. Take a shower. Weâll go get coffee or something.â
âI donât want coffee.â
âI donât care what you want. Youâre getting out of this apartment.â Her voice is firm but kind. âCome on. Iâll wait.â
You drag yourself out of bed, shower on autopilot, and put on clothes that arenât pajamas for the first time in days. When you look in the mirror, you barely recognize yourself. Your face is pale, eyes hollow and red-rimmed. You look like youâve been through a war.
You feel like it too.
Campus feels different now. You walk with your head down, avoiding eye contact, hyperaware of every whisper and pointed look. The story has spreadâeveryone knows about the bet, about what you did. Some people are sympathetic, but most just see you as the girl who broke Park Sunghoonâs heart for two hundred dollars.
You deserve it. Every bit of judgment, every dirty look. You deserve all of it.
Jiwoo takes you to a small cafe on the edge of campus, one youâve never been to before. Itâs quiet, mostly empty, and youâre grateful for the anonymity.
âTalk to me,â Jiwoo says once youâre settled with your drinks. âWhat are you feeling?â
âEverything. Nothing. I donât know.â You wrap your hands around your cup. âI keep thinking about his face. When he found out. Iâve never seen anyone look so⊠broken.â
âHave you tried to reach out?â
âWhat would I even say? âSorry I made a bet to make you fall in love with meâ? Thereâs no apology big enough for what I did.â
âMaybe not. But maybe he deserves to hear that youâre sorry anyway.â
You shake your head. âHe said he doesnât want to see me. I have to respect that.â
âSo thatâs it? Youâre just giving up?â
âIâm not giving up. Iâm accepting that I fucked up so badly thereâs no coming back from it.â Your voice cracks. âI lost him, Jiwoo. And itâs my own fault.â
She reaches across the table to squeeze your hand. âFor what itâs worth, I think your feelings were real. I saw how you were with him. That wasnât fake.â
âIt doesnât matter if they were real. Not when everything else was a lie.â
You start seeing Sunghoon around campus, though âseeingâ isnât quite right because you make sure he never actually sees you. Youâve become an expert at ducking into buildings, changing directions, hiding behind groups of people.
Each glimpse of him is like a knife to the chest.
He looks tired. Sad. Heâs always alone now, you noticeâno more walking with Heeseung and the others, no more sitting in groups at the dining hall. Heâs retreated back into himself, back into the lonely, isolated version of himself that existed before you.
Before you ruined everything.
On Tuesday at 5 PM, you walk past the library and see him at your old table. Thereâs a girl sitting across from himâyou donât recognize herâand sheâs working through what looks like statistics problems. Heâs explaining something, using the same patient tone he used with you, and seeing it makes you feel physically ill.
Heâs moved on. Heâs replaced you.
Which is what you wanted, right? For him to be okay? But watching it happen feels like dying.
Week two is somehow worse than week one.
You run into Heeseung at the gym. Youâve been going at odd hours to avoid people, but apparently not odd enough. Heâs on the treadmill next to yours, and for a moment you consider just leaving. But he speaks before you can.
âYou look like shit,â he says bluntly.
âThanks.â
âSunghoon looks worse.â
Your chest tightens. âI donât want to talk about this.â
âToo bad.â Heeseung stops his treadmill and turns to face you fully. âYou fucked up. We all know it. But Iâm not here to lecture you.â
âThen why are you here?â
âBecause Iâve known Sunghoon since freshman year, and Iâve never seen him as happy as he was with you. And Iâve also never seen him as miserable as he is now.â He pauses. âAnd because Jake told me what you said. That you actually fell for him.â
âIt doesnât matterââ
âIt matters to him. Even if he wonât admit it.â
You stop your treadmill too. âWhat do you want me to say, Heeseung? That Iâm sorry? Iâm sorry. That I wish I could take it back? I do. That I love him? Iââ Your voice breaks. âI love him so much itâs destroying me. But he doesnât want anything to do with me, and I donât blame him.â
Heeseung studies you for a long moment. âHeâs stubborn. Probably the most stubborn person I know. When he decides something, itâs really hard to change his mind.â
âSo Iâm fucked.â
âI didnât say that.â He grabs his water bottle. âIâm just saying, if you really love him, youâre going to have to fight for it. Because heâs not going to make it easy.â
âHe shouldnât have to make anything easy. Iâm the one who screwed up.â
âYeah, you did. But people screw up. Thatâs life. The question is whether youâre going to let one mistake define you, or whether youâre going to do everything you can to make it right.â
He leaves you there, heart pounding, his words echoing in your head.
On Saturday morning, you wake up to a text from Mina: brunch? you need to eat and i miss you
You almost say no. But Jiwoo would just drag you out anyway, so you agree.
Mina picks the placeâa cute little diner near campus that does bottomless mimosas on weekends. Itâs the kind of place thatâs usually packed, but you arrive early enough to get a table.
Youâre halfway through your pancakes when the door opens and Sunghoon walks in.
Your heart stops.
Heâs not alone. Thereâs a girl with himâthe same one from the library, you realize. Sheâs pretty, with long dark hair and a sweet smile. Sheâs laughing at something he said, and heâs smiling back, and seeing them together feels like someone reached into your chest and ripped your heart out.
âOh shit,â Mina breathes, following your gaze.
You canât look away. You watch as theyâre seated at a booth near the windowâthe same booth you and Sunghoon sat in that Sunday morning after your first night together. The morning when everything felt perfect and possible.
The girl says something and Sunghoon laughsâreally laughsâand you realize with a sick feeling that you havenât heard that laugh in weeks. Not since before everything fell apart.
âWe should go,â Mina says, already signaling for the check.
âNo.â Your voice sounds strange, hollow. âItâs fine. We were here first.â
âBabeââ
âI said itâs fine.â
But itâs not fine. Nothing is fine. You watch as they order coffee, as Sunghoon does that thing where he pushes his glasses up when heâs happy, as the girl reaches across the table to show him something on her phone and their fingers brush.
Does he touch her the way he touched you? Does he kiss her like he kissed you? Does he tell her about the hiking trail, about his dreams of being an astronaut, about all the little things he shared with you?
Has he replaced you that easily?
âI need to go,â you say abruptly, standing up. Your chair scrapes loudly against the floor, and several people look overâincluding Sunghoon.
Your eyes meet across the diner.
For one terrible, eternal moment, everything else falls away. Itâs just you and him, all the hurt and love and regret hanging between you like a physical thing.
His expression shiftsâsurprise, then pain, then carefully controlled blankness. He looks away first, turning his attention back to the girl across from him with deliberate focus.
The dismissal is clear. You mean nothing to him now.
You barely make it outside before you start crying.
Mina follows, wrapping her arms around you while you sob on the sidewalk. People walk past, staring, but you canât bring yourself to care.
âHeâs moved on,â you choke out. âHeâs already moved on.â
âYou donât know that. Maybe sheâs just a friendââ
âDid you see the way he looked at her? He was happy, Mina. Really happy. Like he is when heâsââ You canât finish the sentence. Like he was with you.
âCome on,â Mina says gently. âLetâs get you home.â
You let her lead you back to your apartment, your mind stuck on repeat. The image of Sunghoon laughing with that girl, the way he looked away from you like you were nothing, the realization that youâve truly, permanently lost him.
This is what you deserve, you tell yourself. This is the consequence of your actions.
But knowing you deserve it doesnât make it hurt any less.
That night, alone in your room, you finally let yourself break completely.
You pull out your laptop and open the folder of photos from the past few weeks. There are dozensâcandid shots of Sunghoon studying, selfies you took together, photos from the hiking trip. In every single one where heâs looking at you, his expression is so full of love it makes your chest ache.
He really did love you. Completely, genuinely, without reservation.
And you destroyed that.
You find yourself scrolling through your text messages with him, reading through months of conversation. The early ones are formalâjust coordinating tutoring sessions. But they gradually shift into something more. Long conversations about nothing and everything. Stupid jokes. Good morning and goodnight texts. The kind of constant communication that happens when you canât stop thinking about someone.
The last text is still the string of heart emojis he sent in response to your costume photo. Youâd been so happy that night, getting ready for the party, excited to show him off to everyone.
And then it all came crashing down.
You start typing before you can stop yourself: I saw you today at the diner. You looked happy. Iâm glad. You deserve to be happy. I know you donât want to hear from me, and I promise this is the last time Iâll bother you. But I need you to know that Iâm sorry. Iâm so, so sorry. What I did was unforgivable, and I understand why you hate me. But I need you to know that my feelings were real. Are real. I fell in love with you, Sunghoon. Really, truly in love. And I know that doesnât excuse what I did, and I know it doesnât change anything, but I needed to say it. You made me want to be a better person. You made me see that thereâs more to life than parties and surface-level friendships and keeping people at armâs length. You made me feel things I didnât think I was capable of feeling. And I ruined it. I ruined the best thing that ever happened to me because I was selfish and careless and stupid. I donât expect you to forgive me. I donât even expect you to respond to this. I just need you to know that Iâm sorry. And that I love you. Iâll always love you.
You read it over three times, your finger hovering over the send button.
Then you delete it.
Heâs moved on. Heâs happy. And sending that message would just be selfishâmaking yourself feel better at his expense.
So instead, you close your laptop, turn off your phone, and cry yourself to sleep.
The next morning, you wake up to pounding on your door.
âGo away, Jiwoo,â you mumble into your pillow.
âItâs not Jiwoo.â
You bolt upright. Thatâs not Jiwooâs voice. You stumble to the door and open it to find Jay standing there, looking uncharacteristically serious.
âWe need to talk,â he says.
âI donâtââ
âItâs about Sunghoon. Let me in.â
Your heart racing, you step aside. Jay walks in, looking around your disaster of an apartmentâtissues everywhere, empty takeout containers, your laundry piled in the corner.
âJesus,â he mutters. âYou really are a mess.â
âIf you came here to insult meââ
âI came here to tell you that Sunghoon is miserable.â Jay turns to face you. âThat girl you saw him with? Thatâs his cousin. Sheâs visiting for the weekend, and he agreed to show her around campus. But according to Heeseung, the entire time they were at that diner, he kept staring at the door like he was hoping someone specific would walk in.â
Your breath catches. âWhy are you telling me this?â
âBecause heâs too stubborn to admit that he misses you. And youâre apparently too much of a coward to fight for him.â Jay crosses his arms. âLook, what you did was shitty. We all agree on that. But Sunghoon isnât some innocent victim in all this either.â
âYes, he isââ
âNo, heâs not. He put you on a pedestal. He built up this image of you as this perfect girl who chose him over everyone else, and he didnât give you room to be human. To make mistakes.â Jay pauses. âIâm not saying what you did was okay. But I am saying that relationships are complicated, and people fuck up, and maybe if you both actually talked to each other instead of suffering in silence, you could figure this out.â
âHe doesnât want to talk to me.â
âHave you actually tried? Like, really tried? Or did you just accept his initial reaction and give up?â
You donât have an answer to that.
âThatâs what I thought.â Jay heads for the door, then pauses. âHeâs going to that hiking trail. The one he took you to. He goes every Sunday morning. Maybe you should accidentally run into him.â
âJayââ
âOr donât. Keep wallowing in your guilt and let him keep wallowing in his hurt. But Iâm telling you, youâre both miserable apart. So maybe itâs worth at least trying to be miserable together.â
He leaves, and you stand in your apartment, his words echoing in your head. Maybe itâs worth at least trying.
Sunday morning dawns gray and overcast, threatening rain.
You almost take it as a sign to stay home. But youâve spent two weeks being a coward, and youâre done with that.
You dress in the same athletic clothes you wore the first time Sunghoon took you hiking. No makeup, hair pulled back. This isnât about looking good. This is about being honest.
The drive to the trailhead feels both endless and too short. Your hands shake on the steering wheel, and you have to give yourself a pep talk in the parking lot before you can get out of the car.
Sunghoonâs Honda Civic is already there.
Heâs here.
You start up the trail on unsteady legs, every step feeling monumental. The trees are mostly bare now, leaves crunching underfoot, fall having settled fully into the world while you were busy falling apart.
You find him at the clearing overlooking the lake, sitting on the same flat rock where you first kissed him. His shoulders are hunched, head down. Even from a distance you can see the exhaustion in his posture. He looks like he hasnât been sleeping any better than you have. You step into the clearing.
He hears you immediately, head snapping up. When he sees you, his expression cycles through surprise, pain, anger, and finally settles on something carefully neutral.
âWhat are you doing here?â
âI needed to talk to you.â
âI thought I made it clearââ
âI know. Five minutes. Give me five minutes, and if you still want me to leave after that, I will. Iâll never bother you again.â
A long pause. Then he gestures stiffly to the rock beside him.
You sit, leaving space between you, and for a moment you both just stare out at the lake. The water is choppy today, reflecting the gray sky.
âIâm sorry,â you say finally. âI know thatâs not enough. But I need to say it again. What I did was cruel and selfish and unforgivable, and I hate myself for it.â
âWhy did you do it?â His voice is quiet. âWas I really that much of a joke to you?â
âNo. You were never a joke. Thatâs the thingâyou were supposed to be. It was supposed to be easy. I was supposed to play a part, win the bet, and move on.â You take a shaky breath. âBut then I actually got to know you. And everything changed.â
âWhen?â he asks. âWhen did it become real?â
âMaybe when you brought me coffee without being asked. Maybe on Heeseungâs balcony. Maybe the first time you made me laugh for real.â You look at him. âI donât know the exact moment. I just know that somewhere along the way, pretending became impossible because what I felt was completely real.â
Heâs quiet. You press on.
âI saw you at the diner with your cousin. I thought she was someone you were moving on with, and it destroyed me. The idea of you loving someone elseââ Your voice breaks. âThatâs when I knew I couldnât just accept losing you without a fight.â
âJay told you she was my cousin,â he says flatly.
âYes. And Heeseung told me you still had feelings for me. And Jakeââ You pause. âJake warned me weeks ago to tell you the truth. I should have listened.â
âYou should have told me from the beginning.â
âI know. I was a coward. I kept telling myself Iâd do it tomorrow, and then tomorrow became two weeks, and then it was too late.â Tears stream down your face. âI donât expect you to forgive me easily. Iâm not asking for that. Iâm just asking for a chance to prove that Iâve changed. That my love for you is the realest thing Iâve ever felt.â
Sunghoon is quiet for so long you think heâs going to ask you to leave. Then he speaks.
âIâve been miserable without you,â he says roughly. âIâve been trying to be angry. Trying to hate you. But every time I come here, I think about kissing you on this rock. Every time I tutor someone new, I compare them to you.â He exhales. âI told my cousin about you. She called me an idiot for not hearing you out.â
Something flickers in your chest. âYou talked about me?â
âI canât stop thinking about you.â He finally turns to look at you, really look at you, and his expression breaks open. âYou look terrible.â
âSo do you.â
âYeah.â He reaches out hesitantly, brushing a tear from your cheek. The touch sends electricity through you. âI missed you.â
âI missed you every single day.â
âI want to forgive you,â he says slowly. âBut Iâm scared. How do I trust you again? How do I know this isnât another performance?â
âYou donât. Not yet. I canât hand you trustâI have to earn it back. Slowly, honestly, for however long it takes. Iâll be transparent about everything. Iâll go to therapy. Iâll do whatever it takes.â You lace your fingers through his. âJust donât give up on us before we even try.â
âYouâd go to therapy?â
âIâd do anything for you.â
He looks down at your joined hands. âI really loved you. Love you. Present tense. I canât seem to stop, no matter how hard I try.â
âThen donât try.â You move closer, until your knees are touching. âLet me love you back. For real this time.â
He closes his eyes, and when he opens them again, something has shifted.
âNo more lies,â he says firmly. âNo more games. If we do this, we do it honestly. Complete honesty, always.â
âComplete honesty. Always.â
He leans in slowly, giving you every opportunity to pull away. You donât.
When his lips meet yours, itâs careful at first, tentativeâlike youâre both afraid of breaking something fragile. But then youâre kissing him deeper, pouring everything into it. All the guilt, all the love, all the desperate hope that you havenât destroyed something irreplaceable.When you finally pull apart, youâre both crying.
âI love you,â you whisper. âI love you so much.â
âI love you too.â He presses his forehead to yours. âEven though I probably shouldnât.â
âWeâll make this work. I promise.â
âWeâd better.â He squeezes your hand. âCan I take you to breakfast? Somewhere new. Not the diner.â
âNew memories,â you say softly.
âNew memories.â
He stands and offers his hand. You take it.
Three months later, youâre back at the library table by the windows.
Actually studying this time. Sunghoon is beside you, working on his thesis, occasionally stealing your coffee or reaching over to help with a problem. His hand finds yours between pages, a habit neither of you noticed developing.
Things arenât perfect. There have been arguments, moments of doubt, nights where old wounds reopened. But youâve worked through them. Therapy helped. Honesty helped more.
Mina waves from across the library. Jake gives you shit sometimes, but itâs affectionate now. Heeseung and Jay have folded you into the group like you were always there.
Your life looks different. Quieter in some ways, fuller in others. Less performance, more presence.
âWant to get out of here?â Sunghoon asks, already packing up his bag. âI know this hiking trailâŠâ
You laugh. âAlways with the hiking.â
âYou love it.â
âI love you.â
âI love you too.â He takes your hand. âCome on. Letâs go make some more memories.â
Park Sunghoon was never just the biggest nerd on campus.
He was the love of your life.
And this time, there was nothing fake about it.
Recent jungwon art^^